Граф Орлов
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-- Hmm... -- Ushumgallu flips through a book, searching for inspiration. -- Only three entries, that's strange. Erika, I know an Erika, but it definitely isn't her. Definitely not. Okay... Maybe you can suggest a better way to phrase this; I'm not exactly the most eloquent or intelligent. I've always been particularly drawn to a woman's neck, especially when it's so slender that you can wrap your hand around it, or, let's say...
"With a single strike... Say it, come on! Wouldn't you like to see such a slender, delicate neck, where beneath the thin skin lie countless vessels, fragile bones, and a throat from which usually comes a voice so gentle, sliced in half by a blade, revealing what lies hidden?!"
Ushumgallu shook his thick mane of black hair, dispelling the unwanted voice. It's just a completely random idea, I hadn't thought of anything like that before, right? Right?
"Quickly, say something... Decent."
-- And I like semi-transparent garments. Those that reveal almost everything, but not quite. Like some of the priestesses of Nanaia. So, how should I write this entry?
"With a single strike... Say it, come on! Wouldn't you like to see such a slender, delicate neck, where beneath the thin skin lie countless vessels, fragile bones, and a throat from which usually comes a voice so gentle, sliced in half by a blade, revealing what lies hidden?!"
Ushumgallu shook his thick mane of black hair, dispelling the unwanted voice. It's just a completely random idea, I hadn't thought of anything like that before, right? Right?
"Quickly, say something... Decent."
-- And I like semi-transparent garments. Those that reveal almost everything, but not quite. Like some of the priestesses of Nanaia. So, how should I write this entry?
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers