<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f8/Kryztofs.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_u">Kryztofs</span></strong><br/>The other of the two riders, the cold one, rode with an amused grin at the highborn’s ditty. When she stopped, he took over with one he’d overheard before.<br/><br/><em>On the eve o’ harvest 'twas, the party, it began.<br/>Ne’er forget shall I, me lads, the gath’rin of the clans<br/> <br/>Singing, "Hae ye who, lassie, Hae ye who noo?<br/>The ane hae ye that last time Canna hae ye he noo."<br/> <br/>The gatherin' o' the clans 'twas, mon, ‘n was there everyone <br/>Wi' the lassies all A-playin' an' twinin' curly hair…</em><br/><br/>He stopped at the proffered pipe. “Precedes me the reputation mine does,” he observed. “Most welcome your offer is,” he added taking the pipe, every r rolled in his characteristic diction. A few puffs and then exhaling the purple smoke through his bluish nose before sucking it back the same way, he lowered the pipe and let out the smoke in a ring. “Is balask, yes?” He stopped a moment before adding, “Call it you…konah?” H took another puff before returning the now warm pipe, the fingers peeking from his tatty glove still looking long cold. “Is good. Be thanks for to you.” The smoke swirled in his mouth as his words rolled out.<br/><br/>He rode on humming the tune, the purple smoke leaving his nose in short spurts. On the outskirts of Tanhok. He took in most of the town in a moment from the town square. Nodding to the Ivy Star, he offered, “Believes I the hall is that.”<br/>