The Maze
“Let’s go to the left,” you say. You both walk to the left and immediately stumble onto a man who seems to be the same age as Elizabeta.
“There you are! You know you can’t even get out of a paper bag without getting lost! Also, here, but next time you have to pick it up yourself, Roderich,” Elizabeta scolded, handing Roderich the dirty handkerchief in irritation.
Roderich, as Elizabeta described, has a dark purple coat and looks to be the same age as Elizabeta. The “scarf,” that she also pointed out, is actually a “ruff,” or one of those frilly lace that you would see on musicians and colonials in the eighteenth century. His attire and mallet-coloured, combed back hair gives an impression that he stepped right out of a history book. “I left that there on purpose, it was there if I were to go in a circle,” Roderich replies indignantly.
“Yeah sure, whatever you say,” you shot back, knowing very well from Elizabeta’s stories that he drops things all the time, “Now, let’s get out of this accursed place!”
“There you are! You know you can’t even get out of a paper bag without getting lost! Also, here, but next time you have to pick it up yourself, Roderich,” Elizabeta scolded, handing Roderich the dirty handkerchief in irritation.
Roderich, as Elizabeta described, has a dark purple coat and looks to be the same age as Elizabeta. The “scarf,” that she also pointed out, is actually a “ruff,” or one of those frilly lace that you would see on musicians and colonials in the eighteenth century. His attire and mallet-coloured, combed back hair gives an impression that he stepped right out of a history book. “I left that there on purpose, it was there if I were to go in a circle,” Roderich replies indignantly.
“Yeah sure, whatever you say,” you shot back, knowing very well from Elizabeta’s stories that he drops things all the time, “Now, let’s get out of this accursed place!”