In a place full of knowledge and words, it seems only fitting that I, a lover of wisdom, should find all sorts of loves there. Usually, I would browse through all the works of literature that adorns the wooden shelves, which, to me, were gilded stands filled with the wonders of the pen.
But, today, my mission was entirely different. I was here to meet my friends, strangers in a strange land, walkers in the dark, wanderers of worlds, and drifters between dimensions. Of course, they already had a Guide, one of my own, but surely he cannot be expected to perform well while burdened beyond his share.
I walked among the book-filled stands and saw the Guide, standing proud and tall (but not so very tall), alive and well and kicking just a little. I embraced him with a great sigh and remembered our times together, spent mostly insulting each other in jest. My eyes strayed to the right, seeing what I expected there, the sharp features of my Host, looking just as before.
But beyond her, the Ninja lurked...
(EDITOR'S NOTE: At this point, The Dark Wanderer has stopped typing and is instead making a sort of monologue, apparently upon the various assets of the Ninja. I have taken the liberty to record here his speech verbatim.)
Her eyes were the most outstanding quality on her at the moment of my first glance. Softer than those of a doe, they yet outshone the morning star. Her lustrous hair framed her face, which I shall expound on in its time. She wore a flu-mask, which I later learned was to contain her illness, and which covered her other features save her eyes, yet lent an air of mystery and hidden beauty, such as the perfumed veils of Arabia and the Middle East served to hide the virgin perfection of nubile girls in the prime of their youth. This apparatus is clearly what marked her the Ninja.
Of her build, she was tall and slim, yet not tall enough to aggravate feelings of inferiority yet not short enough to aggravate feelings of superiority in me. Slim, but not skinny nor bony, she seemed to be of a younger age than she claimed, yet having the figure many of her seniors long to possess.
Her voice is simply indescribable and perhaps an account of it can already be found in the Odyssey, when the sailors had thus came upon the sirens and their lovely songs.
She bore a sling-bag of a vague and dark colour which served to accentuate the curves of...
(EDITOR'S NOTE: Anything beyond this point does not serve to convey much more about the Ninja other than the, erm, more feminine angle of her. Therefore, here we must stop and leave our audience be.)
I sincerely thank the Host for the intro. :D
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