*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

Alfric hauled himself clumsily from the daybed, knowing that if he stayed seated but a moment longer he would surely lose whatever form of consciousness still remained within his grasp. It was not easy, and once stood, the thought of surrendering seemed suddenly far more appealing.
 
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(Aye Aye Sir. Location: chair, just off the main hall, room temp: approximately twenty degrees Celsius. Slight wiff of elderberries and boredom in the air. Over.)
 
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(Aye Aye Sir. Location: chair, just off the main hall, room temp: approximately twenty degrees Celsius. Slight wiff of elderberries and boredom in the air. Over.)

(I applaud you and your preciseness. Now, let me see, is there anyone in particular you would care to RP with?)
 
(Hmm, lets find a way of getting Al and Redd together.)
(I can do XD )

Redd mumbled something like thank you to the woman, whom he had just finished a dance with, then led her over to the tables and left her.
He backed away slowly from the crowd, trying to not draw any attention as he slipped through a door. If he was going to be here at this party, he might as well have some fun. And fun in his books wasn't dancing and drinking all the night long. He groped along the wall in the nearly pitch black room until his hands grasped a door handle. Opening the door which belonged to said handle, he exited the dark room and entered another, but this one was reasonably lit with several candles lining a mantel above a dying fire.
 

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