(rpg for sterlingrevoer and disturbed66 (myself do not post but you can read!):angel:
way out in the german mountains stood an old town, it was small, with only a few hundred people living there. It was manly an agriculture town, where most people where farmers, there where few people with other skills, one barber, one black smith and the town was only blessed with one school teacher who tough all ages in a one room dirt floored school house. But despite the lack of technology and outside connect the people where happy living day by day. laughter was common, depression less.
But every town had its dark corner beyond the cobble stone paths, the break homes the well care for live stolk and lands up a hill stood an old dark castel the stone wall evil arour replied even the stupiest cow from vnutring too near.
In the town that the castel looms hunting everyone sites bay by daythe building itself was rommerd to be vampire home. Others wisper of screams and and missing forgners appering in town one day then disapper by night fall. That or of witch craft, crazed experiments or even vengeful spirits of their ancestor not yet done with living.
Whatever the case what was true was there was one person living up there, a man, who only went into town during the mos cloudyest of days. man who dressed in the best style and always wore powder (or so it seemed to the villigers) to make his skin white. When ever the man was asked why, he'd answer of having a rare skin condtion that made him algeric to the sun. when ever the man was down he never bought vegis or meat bread or even whiskey whict was a veryc omman drink for men, but hed stroll down to the flower shop one that sold seed and other planting needs to the community.
It was always differnt a bag of maner here, sack of seeds for many colord flowers, rose bushes or a simple flower to tuck into his suit small pocket. He was very kind and soft spoken plus the rare glimps at his eyes showed inmence intlegence. Some days hed by a whole dozen of flower then turn around and gave a flower to every child hed seen on the way home. Making there mothers scoot them away from him quilky scolding all the way. The people feared him, and thank their god that cloudy days where none the common.
One one such cloudy day he man seemed to be lingering a little bit longer among the flowered rows. his gloved hand up to his lips tapping them gently as he walked up and down.
