Home, Sweet Home!
Under other circumstances, (that didn't involve maidservants who were too noisy for their own good), Zak would have begun to despair of being taken back to the Bar before discorporation set in. Fortunately, the Bar proved him wrong.
Better late than never, right?
The drow had opened the screen door wide open, intending to take in the sight of the garden, only to find the Bar there instead of the garden. He took one step back, then another, to see if the door would vanish. It did not. It remained.
The drow smiled, called loudly for assistance, and, when the curious maidservants (who were finally useful for something) arrived, had them'packing' the silk clothes and the tightly tied reams of paper together into a large bundle wrapped in a coverlet, tied up tightly and tossed into the Bar. The maidservants look at the Bar with open curiosity, and then quickly call for assistance, for some male servants to push some of the small chests in the room over the slim boundary separating their home from the Bar. None of them want to enter the strange world. It's a fairly quick shove. There's not much distance between Bar and room.
The drow himself has stuffed the seed-packets tightly into his money pouch, tied the three sheathed blades together and tied them slung across his back, and then grabbed the last two small chests, and walked straight over.
The door vanished behind him. He dropped the chests, unslung the swords and sat down to rest.
There is a drow, sitting on a pair of chests, surrounded by three other chests, a very large bundle of cloth tied together with string, and with three sheathed blades by his feet. He is pleased to be back home. He wonders if his friends are here.
(OOC:Infinitely Botherable, Slowtimes are loved, am off to a WEDDING, OMGYAY! OOMS will be on my journal and Mara's. HAVE TO GO NOW, WILL POST LINKS TO THEM LATER.)
Better late than never, right?
The drow had opened the screen door wide open, intending to take in the sight of the garden, only to find the Bar there instead of the garden. He took one step back, then another, to see if the door would vanish. It did not. It remained.
The drow smiled, called loudly for assistance, and, when the curious maidservants (who were finally useful for something) arrived, had them'packing' the silk clothes and the tightly tied reams of paper together into a large bundle wrapped in a coverlet, tied up tightly and tossed into the Bar. The maidservants look at the Bar with open curiosity, and then quickly call for assistance, for some male servants to push some of the small chests in the room over the slim boundary separating their home from the Bar. None of them want to enter the strange world. It's a fairly quick shove. There's not much distance between Bar and room.
The drow himself has stuffed the seed-packets tightly into his money pouch, tied the three sheathed blades together and tied them slung across his back, and then grabbed the last two small chests, and walked straight over.
The door vanished behind him. He dropped the chests, unslung the swords and sat down to rest.
There is a drow, sitting on a pair of chests, surrounded by three other chests, a very large bundle of cloth tied together with string, and with three sheathed blades by his feet. He is pleased to be back home. He wonders if his friends are here.
(OOC:Infinitely Botherable, Slowtimes are loved, am off to a WEDDING, OMGYAY! OOMS will be on my journal and Mara's. HAVE TO GO NOW, WILL POST LINKS TO THEM LATER.)