A human, once a wealthy aristocrat, is begging in the streets now. They'd made mistakes, big mistakes, and now begged the Elven wizard and hir friends for help. They were truly sorry for what they did. What help did they want? Money? Power? No. Even though they were broke, they were trying to save those they, themselves, had impoverished, before it was too late. -- Anon Guest
Some in rags, and some in tags, and one in a velvet gown... The robe had once fit a much larger person. Now it hung on them like a tent. The grime of the streets turned the frayed hems dark, and the signs of other, thrown debris littered what had once been a very nice blue velvet. She had a charity box that she rattled at anyone who paused long enough to stare.
"Alms? Alms for the needy? Help the poor?"
An Elf stopped completely, staring at a face that had long since gone thin. Frowning. This person did not have the charity box shoved into their face.
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