[By nature and by choice, Liem is a man of action. He prefers to keep moving, to have a quarry to seek, whether it’s through darkened woodlands, the alleys and thoroughfares of the city, or jewel-toned parlours and gilded government halls. There is little in life that can match the anticipatory focus of a hunt, or the thrill of its conclusion.
In work and in play, however, downtime is inevitable; particularly when the realities of Liem’s unique physical condition catch up with him, as they often do when he pays too little heed to his body’s limits, or when he unwisely indulges in excess. Tonight, though Alenroux’s pitiless sun has long since sunk below the horizon, leaving the landscape to the gentle light of the moon and innumerable twinkling stars, Liem is in poor condition to be going on any hunts through the woods. He leans against the stout watchtower’s wooden rail, overlooking one of Meridian’s hastily erected encampments, as weary and haggard as if he’d been marching for hours through midday sun.
It is a poor time for him to be suffering the effects of withdrawal; he is far less useful to Meridian while so-afflicted, too ill for solo excursions into the forest to be wise, a liability because of his weakness and limited stamina. But he knew nothing of these plans when he agreed to indulge his blood-thirst earlier in the month. Now he suffers the consequences.
His senses, at least, are just as keen as ever — and the camp does need someone to keep lookout during the long, dangerous hours of night. The woman with whom he’s been sharing this watch tower has a rabbit’s sharp ears, but his night-piercing eyes remain a boon in present conditions. Beside him, his crossbow, Dignity’s Barb, rests within easy reach, to be used as weapon or signal at need.
It is his companion who first hears someone approaching the tower — but by the time her replacement ascends the ladder to join them, Liem has turned his head to regard the newcomer as well.]
for Voryn — night watching
In work and in play, however, downtime is inevitable; particularly when the realities of Liem’s unique physical condition catch up with him, as they often do when he pays too little heed to his body’s limits, or when he unwisely indulges in excess. Tonight, though Alenroux’s pitiless sun has long since sunk below the horizon, leaving the landscape to the gentle light of the moon and innumerable twinkling stars, Liem is in poor condition to be going on any hunts through the woods. He leans against the stout watchtower’s wooden rail, overlooking one of Meridian’s hastily erected encampments, as weary and haggard as if he’d been marching for hours through midday sun.
It is a poor time for him to be suffering the effects of withdrawal; he is far less useful to Meridian while so-afflicted, too ill for solo excursions into the forest to be wise, a liability because of his weakness and limited stamina. But he knew nothing of these plans when he agreed to indulge his blood-thirst earlier in the month. Now he suffers the consequences.
His senses, at least, are just as keen as ever — and the camp does need someone to keep lookout during the long, dangerous hours of night. The woman with whom he’s been sharing this watch tower has a rabbit’s sharp ears, but his night-piercing eyes remain a boon in present conditions. Beside him, his crossbow, Dignity’s Barb, rests within easy reach, to be used as weapon or signal at need.
It is his companion who first hears someone approaching the tower — but by the time her replacement ascends the ladder to join them, Liem has turned his head to regard the newcomer as well.]