The only pair of boots Zevran will never wear
[Well, Zevran asked for - and received - quite a few gifts from Santa. Of course, as everyone else who's gotten gifts could tell you, that's not exactly a good thing.
The tombstone was in the first package he opened. He stares at it for a few minutes before getting to his feet and picking up the phone.]
Is this supposed to upset me, Santa? [His voice is cold, amused.] Did you expect me to believe this? I wrote my letter to you before she came back, but now that she is, how do you expect to convince me she is dead? And even if she were...presumably she would have died at home in her own world, doing what she loved. And I am no stranger to death. Not the most effective approach, I am sorry to say.
So what else do you have for me, hm? [There is some rustling as he opens the next gift, a pause as he examines it - and then a sharp gasp as realization dawns, followed by a thud as he flings the box away from him. He's found the elfskin boots.] You - what sort of sick trophy is this? Not even humans would go so far as that! [He sounds well and truly angry, one of the few times he's ever been genuinely riled.] You have a very sick definition of 'leather', and I will take my time correcting you.
I hardly know why I am surprised anymore.
[Here Zevran hangs up in order to tear through the rest of his presents, looking for more nasty surprises...but the only surprise comes from the fact that everything else seems to be in order. His bow and arrows, his blades, his poisons, and some Antivan brandy. He reaches for the bow, first, picking it up and slinging the quiver over his shoulder.
Fortunately, no one else is in sight at the moment, so the murderous effects of the weapons go unnoticed for now...]
The tombstone was in the first package he opened. He stares at it for a few minutes before getting to his feet and picking up the phone.]
Is this supposed to upset me, Santa? [His voice is cold, amused.] Did you expect me to believe this? I wrote my letter to you before she came back, but now that she is, how do you expect to convince me she is dead? And even if she were...presumably she would have died at home in her own world, doing what she loved. And I am no stranger to death. Not the most effective approach, I am sorry to say.
So what else do you have for me, hm? [There is some rustling as he opens the next gift, a pause as he examines it - and then a sharp gasp as realization dawns, followed by a thud as he flings the box away from him. He's found the elfskin boots.] You - what sort of sick trophy is this? Not even humans would go so far as that! [He sounds well and truly angry, one of the few times he's ever been genuinely riled.] You have a very sick definition of 'leather', and I will take my time correcting you.
I hardly know why I am surprised anymore.
[Here Zevran hangs up in order to tear through the rest of his presents, looking for more nasty surprises...but the only surprise comes from the fact that everything else seems to be in order. His bow and arrows, his blades, his poisons, and some Antivan brandy. He reaches for the bow, first, picking it up and slinging the quiver over his shoulder.
Fortunately, no one else is in sight at the moment, so the murderous effects of the weapons go unnoticed for now...]