| twerboart | Дата: Понедельник, 03.06.2013, 18:52 | Сообщение # 1 |
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| Toel's underchefs — Intovar and Yeum — got into a shrill argument in the hall.When Lord Irrel came down, everything hushed.AnnaГЇg had never seen a lord before.She had supposed they looked like everyone else, possibly in finer clothes.She was right about the clothes.Irrel's robe seemed to be made of black smoke within which winked thousands of tiny sparks.The form-fitting garment beneath might have been made of liquid iron.Irrel himself was somewhat translucent.When he turned his head, flashes of skull showed through his fine, long features.His large eyes glowed with a soft purple light that shone through his lids when he closed them.
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He stood a head taller than anyone else in the room.His voice was soft, but it carried easily to every corner of the kitchen.
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Can you win it?Tell me now, and do not dissemble.He looked terrified, and AnnaГЇg could see his fingers shaking.He gestured — as if flicking something from his finger — and Intovar shrieked and dropped to his knees before falling on his face.Not without Chef Toel.
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