Post by Zib on Feb 8, 2009 7:43:53 GMT -5
Zibfred sat at the Welcome Desk in the kinhall for the Pillagers of Pipeweed, in Maltmead. He looked over the application and pondered. It had been several weeks since Zibfred had started adventuring with the kin. And it was time for him to take his place, as most of the more adventurous Zoots had done before him.
With a flourish that indicated a little pride, Zibfred signed his name. He filled in Zoot Hall, Crickhollow as his current address. The occupation field gave his a little challenge. Expert treasure hunter or Pie Champion of East Farthing? Zib nodded and wrote Pie Champion of East Farthing. As an afterthought, he considered listing his weapon smithing, but decided against it. Really, he made other tools that a treasure hunter would find useful more than great weapons.
Zib smiled as he looked over the question about motive for joining. He wrote out It is what we Zoots do. He chuckled as he thought, let them ponder that!
Zibfred stepped up from the desk but left the parchment out so the ink could dry. He wandered over to the cabinet in the spare room and looked over the various tarts and pies. He selected a nice coney pie. Then he pulled a chair over to the hearth and settled in for some "training". "It isn't easy being Champion of the East Farthing," Zib said gleefully as he smelled the pie.
With a flourish that indicated a little pride, Zibfred signed his name. He filled in Zoot Hall, Crickhollow as his current address. The occupation field gave his a little challenge. Expert treasure hunter or Pie Champion of East Farthing? Zib nodded and wrote Pie Champion of East Farthing. As an afterthought, he considered listing his weapon smithing, but decided against it. Really, he made other tools that a treasure hunter would find useful more than great weapons.
Zib smiled as he looked over the question about motive for joining. He wrote out It is what we Zoots do. He chuckled as he thought, let them ponder that!
Zibfred stepped up from the desk but left the parchment out so the ink could dry. He wandered over to the cabinet in the spare room and looked over the various tarts and pies. He selected a nice coney pie. Then he pulled a chair over to the hearth and settled in for some "training". "It isn't easy being Champion of the East Farthing," Zib said gleefully as he smelled the pie.
