::Varen Rivera is seen laughing and smiling:: Hah! A new head-master of spellweaver? What they really need is a new chef! I didn't see a single one of those spellweavers eating any kind of noodles whatsoever. Tut tut tut. ::Sighs sadly:: And I think I would make a lovely noodle chef too. I mean really, my mom always told me that I made the best darn noodle soup in all of faerun! Really, she did. Of course, that was before her untimely death, I mean.. ::Sighs again:: Who'd of thought my noodle soup would be high in cholesterol? Her poor heart couldn't take it.. regardless, my dad kept on eating them. He's still alive, too! Heheheh… He even payed my boat ride from Cormyr to peltarch! I mean, really, what a swell guy. Did I ever tell you about the time he saved the entire city from those ravaging killer lemmings? Those lemings, ooof.. ::He shivers, huddling on his seat:: THOSE were some scary lemmings. They had brown furr and big big teeth. Oh man. The horror… the horror... I cannot begin to describe there TAILS. Oh! Gods... gives me nightmares just thinking about them. Those tails, oh gods.. the tails.. those alarming, chilling, scarey, shivery, shuddery -- Whatever it is, you name it, those tails were it. Ooooh brother. ::He shivers some more:: …but alas! ~My~ father, sir John Rivera, slew them all! Hah! And that's not all, he also -- ::He strikes a pose, with an imaginairy rapier, before stumbling on a rock and hitting his head on a bench in the commons::
::He is then carried away by a few commoners to the temple of Tyr, unconcious::
