<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/06/Cirven150.png)</div><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/79/Cirven150a.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Cirven<br/><strong>Current Form:</strong>Trithos<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Myeliae<br/><strong>Players Nearby:</strong>Nilofer<br/><br/><hr/><br/>She wouldn't even take the time of day to try and believe him. People like her irritated him, since they had that feeling that if the elves lost all of their warriors, there would be no war. Well, it was true, as well as the fact that there would be no elves either, free leastways. He nodded at her first words," It won't bring her husband back, no, but in her grief, for some reason she believes that if others are as miserable as she is. She is allowed her grief, and, according to law, her revenge. If you would like to try and convince her otherwise, I would be more than happy to support you," He wasn't being sarcastic, and his voice said so. Negotiations were always preferable to bloodshed,  and unthoughtful action. Unfortunately, like in many other items in his life, he was merely following orders, and to refuse would mean only greater dishonor, and escalation in the hostility between the two families.<br/><br/>It was unfair that she blamed him. How she saw him was unfair. He hadn't made the legends. He had never told anyone that he had scaled a mountain, entered a wyrm's cavern, slain a dragon, and left with the two blades from the hoard, and was even now writing a map  to guide adventurers to the perilous mountain to claim their own treasure. He hadn't made the legend that he had bathed in the blood of a Golem to make his own skin as hard as stone. He was a general, a soldier, who took orders like any other elf, and executed them to the best of his ability. He ground his jaw to keep from pointing this out in a vociferous fashion, but he knew that this would only make her feel more strongly about what she was saying. It was obvious that she had formed this opinion of him, not because she disliked soldiers in general, obviously, since she had slept around with a cartful of them, but instead because she had had to think up a bunch of distasteful details to present to her father in an effort to avoid marriage. And, having said it so many times in her head, and out loud, likely as not, she had started to believe her own concoctions of him based on legends that were had been told about him, somehow twisting him from being the hero, something that he never saw himself as anyways so he didn't blame her, into a villain.<br/><br/>When he spoke, his voice was low, not dangerous, but controlled," Have you ever heard any eyewitness accounts?" A twist of mockery entered his voice then," Or have you just listened to men speaking of things that they heard that people have seen? Not all stories can be believed, but I guess you wouldn't know much about that, would you? You live in a dream world, Nilofer, and I have been trying to pull you to the real life, how things work in this twisted world of ours," He pushes himself to his feet, suddenly sick of this conversation. She wouldn't understand. She was hard-headed, and refused to listen to reason because reason refused to allow her to see things in a way that she liked them," I am sorry that you hate me. I am sorry that you need someone to hate at all. Gods know that there is enough of it in this war. But hate me if it makes you feel better about our marriage. I would never want anything but the best for you, Nilofer, if you were my wife," He scowled, his voice flat. She didn't know him, and thought that it meant that he wasn't putting meaning into his words. If she had, she would know that this was how he spoke when he was growing angry. He dusted himself off, and walked away.