the mirror
You walk softly to the mirror and bowl, feeling uncomfortable in this
unfamiliar place. You pour the water into the bowl. As you dip your
hand in the water to wipe the blood off your face you gaze into the
mirror. It reflects your face dully, the burnished surface showing
your delicate elven features. Your ragged hair constrasts with your
fine silver and green clothing. Your face is beat up but other wise
healty looking, and your large, deep eyes have a sort of sad look to
them. You stare intently at your reflection, trying to make out some
detail, some hint that might help you figure out who you
are.
