Mira Rhelarwen (Jenara)- Private Thread

[Jenara]

The music seemed to drag her from the black mood that seemed to surround her, was it the mists? Or was it just this place? Either way she had to fight it.

Stamping her feet her body took on a life of its own, was the music magical? Regardless she needed to dance. Darting into Raunies wagon she divulged herself of the constricting bodice and tied the plain white shirt up below her considerable assets exposing her bare midriff. (A shocking thought in the urban sprawl that is palathas.)

Stepping outside without her sword she let her hair fall and moves towards the ladies, watching their movements before joining in, an occasional giggle leaving her lips as she spins and twirls. She had never been taught to dance, although a young nobleman did once try to teach her a formal dance for a ball, but this was different, this was a dance with free and graceful abandon.

[TristenC]

Unencumbered by gear or guilt, possessions or propriety, Mira danced. There seemed to be no set form, which was just as well as she had never learned any formal steps. The men nodded their approval and the women made kind words. Lesorna and Bertolli danced as one with their bodies tight together in quick motions as impressive as they were passionate. Her hostess danced before her husband, twirling agilely with the music, and he played all- the-more fervently in response. The other couple sat together until the lady whispered something to her husband, smiling and nodding in Mira's direction.

He stood and crossed to meet her, making a formal leg with a flourish of his hand as he offered it to her. The lady watched them jovially. On a whim, she took his hand and they began to dance. They did not press together like the young couple, but they twirled and spun and stepped lively to the violin. She was unpracticed and he quite nimble, and only her natural grace and hi steady hand kept her from falling. He watched her eyes with joy, like a father for a favored daughter. Her bright hair flung about and she felt the wild urge to never stop welling within her. She could stay with these people, perhaps become one of them. It didn't seem a bad life by any means. Good food, good fellowship, good music... what else was there worth having? She laughed and giggled with the movements; and all the cares of the world had fallen away.

The song ended, but another began shortly. This time the fiddle was passed to her dance-partner, and he played another vibrant tune; though not so masterfully as her host. The couple that shared their wagon paired off and began to dance quite close, but less intensely than the other to match the music. Bertolli came to her and offered his hand. Lesorna, it seemed, was getting some water after her two fast-paced dances.

[Jenara]

Taking Bertolli's hand a smile flashes across her features, "Good sir" she says (in common) followed by her best curtsey. She lets him lead allowing the music to take her, she felt the way the wind fluttered through the red nimbus that was her hair, the airs on her bare skin, tomorrow she would have to ask one of the ladies if she might barter for a skirt...

Nothing mattered right now, she was inside the music, it surged like the magic that flowed through her, the magic all those stuffy old mages didn't understand. Perhaps this was where she belonged? Was this her task? She could grow to love these people, they had music oozing from them.

[TristenC]

[Ooc: mini-montage time! Yay!]

The young man was even lighter on his feet than her previous partner. His movements were smooth but quick, and she had some difficulty keeping up. His gorgeous smile and the enchanting music left her a little lightheaded by the end of the song. They stood there breathing heavily for a moment after the final notes died away. So close to his powerful chest and the sweet scent of fresh sweat, she felt as if she drifted between waking and dreaming. Her red hair lay in a tangle about her eyes, and she watched him with a heavy-lidded gaze.

Just then the music began again, a jaunty tune that evoked images of feastday celebration. Bertolli was pulled gently away by the dark beauty, and laughed at something she had said. Her host, the fiddler, came by for his turn about. On into the night the company danced, musicians and dancers took turns at each task and it seemed Bertolli pkayed the dulcimer as well; though rather simply. The girl took up the violin at one point and proved an impressive talent at it. No unpleasantness spoiled the evening, save perchance a slight tightness in the eyes and lips of Lesorna whenerver Mira and Bertolli danced.

Her sleep that evening was the total rest of the exhausted. The night was filled with dreams of dancing and music. She was awash in a world of song and beauty, endless flowered fields and bright forests. All the while there loomed something... something just outside the edge of knowing. The next day moved much like the last, with kind conversation in the new language and good fare. When approached about a skirt, her hostess only laughed and gave her one of the long white cotton garments and a red-tassled shawl as well; saying something about Mira reminding her of her own daughter.

The night followed with more music and dancing, and she began to hope it would never end. It did, however. In the late afternoon of the third full day, the path led out of the woods from the southwest. A sparkling river, swift and deep, flowed powerfully westward before curving north. It passed a walled city, perhaps a quarter the size of her one-time home of Haven. Low foothills rising to steep cliffs better than 40' high bordered the city to the east, and a long moat guarded the 15' stone walls to the south. Little else could be seen from thia vantage.

The caravan stopped and everyone turned out to see her off, including the Raunie who rarely left her wagon outside of camp.

[Mira gains 4% to her language check for the last two days for a total score of 11%. Mira gains a white cotton skirt and a tassled red shawl. I'll add the below map of Harmonia along with some details to the 'party knowledge' thread soon.]
[Ooc: I read a mention of your husband's hospital visit. Hope things are going well!]

===========
XP Awards:
Coming to a stranger's aid (park): 50xp
Surviving Draconians [total HD> or = 2x party HD: 1%/rnd]: 140xp
Casting Shield: 25xp
Casting Web: 50xp
Musical performance/Dancing/Rp w/Visitani:75xp
Total XP Award: 340xp
5,340/10,000

[Jenara]

Mira stood by the wagons, her somewhat pale legs on display in the white skirt she was kindly given, the white shirt hung loose from her body, unbuttoned slightly at the waist while she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders. She kept her blade at her side and the silver axe wedged in her belt.

Oh to feel this free all the time, letting her hair fly loose, her mind uncluttered, in the days to come she would remember this no doubt.

"Thank you." She attempts to say in Harmonian (1d100=32 failing) realising she has a long way to go with the language she simply curtsy's offering the people she counted as friends a smile.

"Please tell everyone thank you, you have been most kind, I couldn't have.." Her voice breaks as she addresses The Raunie. "You welcomed a stranger into your midst, with open arms." Offering her hosts a hand she smiles warmly before moving to the woman who had guided her. "In my culture it is considered polite to hug someone you care about.. May I?" She asks the Raunie.

(Now she promised to tell Mira something about what awaits her, Saying she wouldn't be left unprepared, can we assume that happened during the journey?)

(And yes he is quite ill indeed.)

[TristenC]

Her words of thanks fail, but her intent is plain and the group of nomads smile and make kind words over her a bit; even Lesorna wears a genuine grin. She finally comes to the woman who had quieted her fears and shored up her doubts. Emotion begins to well up within her and in response, the Raunie gives her a grandmotherly hug. As she draws back, the old gypsy looks into her shimmering eyes. Seeing the burning question there she speaks.

The language will come, as you know, but the most important thing is that you remain steadfast in your resolve. Being prepared does not mean understanding all things in your path, and not I nor any other can pierce the veil well enough to answer them for you... but three things I can say:

That which at first seems to be your goal, may not truly be.

There are those you may trust aside from the outlanders who will meet you; do not reject everyone in fear.

When all seems finished there will come a choice. The choice to go on or turn back... that choice will determine your true fate.

One final thing. This land has a dual nature; one of great beauty by day, and of danger by night. The old woman gives her a final comforting embrace. We have prepared you as we can, girl. Go now, be within the walls before dark... that is safest. At the final words ahe turns and Mira sees the wagons are being lined up to go. The Raunie steps into the last and favors her with one last sad smile before shutting the small door. The wheeled boxes trundle back into the forest.

With the Visitani disappearing into the woods, there was little else to do. There appeared to be two gates to the city, one to the south and one westward near the river. A well-worn path, not quite a road, led to the southern gate where a 20' drawbridge was drawn up. The glint of metal on the walls suggested there were at least guards there to hail. The other was farther out of the way, but the drawbridge was open at the moment, letting in shepherds with their flocks, of all things. By the sun she had about an hour of daylight left, and it would take nearly half that to walk to the far gate laden with her gear as she was.

[My thoughts and prayers, such as they are, are with you both ]

[I set up a few things in the 'party knowledge' thread. Mira will pick up much more very soon as we do some montage work. I was thinking of having each mini-montage represent about a week, jumping through about 3 wks to bring you to the point the others arrive. Each 'week' we'll see what you want to accomplish once you have a better idea of what's available in the city. For a couple more posts let's keep a normal pace as we get Mira set up in town.]

[Jenara]

Wiping back a tear Mira shoulders her pack and lute gives a final wave to the now vanished Caravan and turns to the city. Her intent clear as she walks to the gate.

The heavy pack hung on her shoulders, she' have to find a bed, a place to stay, perhaps she might get work as a musician?

[TristenC]

Taking a chance and heading for the nearer gate, Mira smells the moist earth as it has begun to form a light mist. She did not shiver at the sight as she might once have after that dark night what seemed ages ago. She had since learned that the fogs dispersed early in the morning and came on again nearly every night. The farmland before the city was scattered with weeds, almost as if spring planting had not yet begun. Frigid wind swept around her and stirred her skirt and loose hair with the feel of waning winter. She shivered, but continued. With luck, she would be within the walls soon enough.

As she neared the moat, an unpleasant smell greeted her. The 20’ wide span of stagnant water lurked between her and the high stone wall, a row of wooden spikes set into the earth on both sides making it look not unlike a gaping maw waiting to devour the unwary. Patches of oily film clung to the surface, and dark shapes floated about innocuously. Even in the cold the buzz of biting insects can be heard, perhaps attracted by the stifling stink. For a moment the surface seems to ripple, but it is impossible to tell if there is anything within those murky depths.

Closer to the wall itself now, she sees several mail-clad guards on a rampart above the drawbridge. She hails one with a wave and a wordless cry, not sure what to say. They regard her suspiciously, but one disappears and moments later the well-worn wood begins to descend smoothly. The oiled chains run from ring pins on the bridge up through a small opening in the stone-towers to either side. Iron-bound double-gates stand imposingly in the stone wall here, marred by deep gouges and scrapes. She sees a man-sized door set in the middle of one, with a steel grate across a small window set in it. As she approaches, a slide is drawn back and a pair of sharp blue-violet eyes watches her from behind. The guard asks her questions in a gruff voice, and it takes a several exchanges before they understand each other. Finally, with a slight narrowing of the eyes, he closes the small window.

A moment or two passes, and Mira begins to wonder if she should hail them again when the door finally opens. Two guards in chain and helm, hands not-quite casually on the swords at their waists, watch her as one extends an arm into the city indicating she is free to enter. One is tall and fair-haired young man with a pleasant smile. The other, of a height with her, sports thick black hair and appears disappointed to be on duty. He perks up a little at her appearance, actually letting one corner of his mouth draw up in an almost smile. Both have those startling eyes she first saw on Lesorna.

She passes quickly through the entryway, which she could see now was made of overlapping layers of wood nearly two feet thick! The door closed firmly behind her by a third guard. This one’s hair was so pale it was nearly silver and he had the look of a seasoned fighter. He was lean but muscular, and his serious eyes were clearly the ones that had regarded her through the doorway.

The spacious houses around her were almost exclusively single-story white stucco with broad wood-beamed frames and thatched roofs. Small, arched windows flanked by surprisingly thick wooden shutters of blue or green decorated the walls; every last one fitted with a strong bolt or latch. Several people stood around in clusters talking in that harmonic language or walking along… she even heard singing flowing from down the street! Everyone she could see had a light, almost pale, complexion. Those with fair hair, ranging from summer-wheat to platinum blonde, outnumbered others with jet-black hair nearly five-to-one. Her own bright red would definitely stand out.

A wide dirt road continued northward into the city, and she could see it met a large intersection some distance ahead with a sprawling two-story structure on the western side. The 40’ cliffs outside the city seemed to provide a formidable wall to the East, and even shaped a smaller hill within the southwest corner of the wall that looked to support some larger buildings sporting red roofs. The sound of the drawbridge thumping closed brought her back to the moment.

[Jenara]

(Sorry for the earlier short post, wanted to move things along and didn't have much time.)

Tightening the shawl around her neck and in turn covering her cleavage she tries to fight back the cold, the clothing choice wasn't ideal when she thought about it, but the Visitani made her feel so welcome, she almost felt like one of them. It only felt fair to enter this city as one of them.

Pondering how the people here would treat both her form of dress and her lack of language she walks with purpose towards the two storey building with interest.

[TristenC]

[Ooc: nothing to apologize for, truly.]

The road merges with a wide cobblestone street here, running both east and west for blocks before curving northward. The path she followed narrows considerably to the north and leads to a large man-made hill the same height as the outer wall to the city. Another imposing wall, apparently hexagonal and nearly the height of the hill itself, rises above it. Above even that, the top of some fortress-like tower peeks barely over the side.

The crowd is much thicker here, and Mira finds it difficult to believe so many people reside in this town year-round. Focusing on the two-level structure to her right, she sees that it has a painted sign out front depicting a man sitting a long bench with his walking staff propped beside him. Blood red words, written in an elegant form, adorn the sign below the image. They are strange to her, but somehow familiar. Beside the sign itself is a painted black plaque in the form of a shield, bearing a golden lute; which matched the guards' tabards exactly.

An angled bay-window on the second floor overlooks the corner and perhaps the whole of the town, given the smaller stature of the surrounding structures. A warm light flows from the window as well as a gap between the thick twin doors at the entance. The familiar sounds of a common room wash through the small opening.

[I forgot to mention the tabards on the guards. Here is an image below.]

[Jenara]

"Well this looks like my kind of place." Mira comments under her breath as she walks closer to the building, whoever these people happened to be they appeared to appreciate music..

Pushing one of the twin doors wide she steps forward with purpose, she lets the Shawl fall off her shoulders and walks confidently into the common room.

[TristenC]

Mira stepped into the common room. She had seen dozens in her life, perhaps even hundreds. There was something comforting in the familiarity of it in the midst of this strange land. The sounds of people talking and eating, and the warmth of a room full of people with a roaring fireplace washed over her. The inn was crowded and decently kept, and she saw at least three servers attentively addressing the needs of the patrons. Another tended the bar along with a hefty man in a white apron.

While most went about their business, a few heads turned as she entered and a mixture of surprise and mild suspicion greeted her. Whether it was the gypsy garb or her fiery red hair, clearly she stood out. The faces turned back to whatever they had been doing before, but here and there a glance stole in her direction.

The man in the apron noticed her as well, taking in her clothing, hair, pack and lute. He said something to the bartender before walking to meet Mira at the door. He speaks to her in that melodic language, as indeed it appeared the rest of the room was using it also. As it had gone with the guards, her current grasp of it meant they had to speak carefully back and forth a few times to be clear.

Gradually it came out that if she wanted a room there was only one left for 5 silver. If she was a musician looking for work, he gestured to the lute, the room would be free for the night... something about the arranged entertainment not showing up...

[Jenara]

"I can play, yes." She responds in Harmonian as best she can using simple language, unslinging the lute and allowing a few simple notes appear. Flocking back her hair she wishes her friends were here, heck she wished anyone who could talk to her were here.

So invis castle is down, rolled on another roller at Unseen servant but didn't have an option to link. Roll was: Output: Language: [1d100] = 8

[TristenC]

[Ooc: Lang thing sounds good]

He seems relieved when she admits she can play and takes it to mean that she is willing to do so for the room. He leads her upstairs and after a few attempts explains that she may rest a bit before performing, and that a meal for dinner would be included as well. The room, which she thinks he called 'small' is actually bigger than she expected. There is a single bed, a wash-stand with a pitcher of water, and a simple table with a chair. It was clean, and probably four paces long and three wide.

He leaves the key to the room on the wash stand for her and heads back downstairs.

[Ooc: when she is ready, there is a small stage-like platform near the fireplace on the common room. The cooks will prepare a meal for her during the night, and provide her with water or some wine of she likes. Although people won't understand the words to her songs, music is music and they might find it unique. She can also attempt some Visitani-style play if she wants to keep up the gypsy theme. She'll be able to earm tips for this, and a mug will be set out to collect them. Sonce she'll be earning, go ahead and roll a proficiency check. If invisible castle is still down you can use the other site, or I can roll it when I do the post after (assuming IC s up by then)]

[Jenara]

Walking into the room she makes a sign of thanks and softly closes the door, she lowers the pack by the bed with a sigh.

Her lute is rested lute lovingly against the wall as she checks the strings and the body for damage before dropping her weapons and flopping her weary body onto the bed.

Within moments her eyes were closed, she was walking the markets of Palanthas with her friends, giggling and laughing.. She could smell the perfumes, the aromas of the food, she was home.. The children were playing in the street.. Smiling in her sleep she drifted away.

------------------

Waking a short time later she rose shakily from the bed, her body somewhat rested from the nap. Shrugging off her clothes she sings "Clean the dirt, Clean my soul, clean the body, make me whole." When nothing happens she shrugs and splashes water on her face and body, the cold water making her jump back in shock.

"Bring me heat, make it boil, bring me life, save me toil." She sings softly her hands aimed at the pitcher she watches the slight bubbles appear on the surface.. Testing the water with a finger she smiles in satisfaction. Splashing the now warm water in her body she breathes deeply.

So, she needed a story, not everyone were like the Visitani. Many were cruel and untrusting, a stranger was a target. She hated the idea but perhaps should she hide her roots for now?

Pulling a clean shirt on her body she ties the fabric under her ample chest once again exposing her bare midriff, next she pulls up the skirt and leaves her feet bare.. She was a Visitani from a far away place, the language was new to her, but she could play.

Grabbing the lute with reverence she turns to her pack, hiding it under the bed she sings once more. "Sound the bells, Call the alarm, keep them hidden, call the alarm!" (Places a small alarm on her bags, to warn away thieves). Keeping her pouch she makes sure she has her valuables.

As she walks into the common room her left arm grabs a stool and carries it onto the stage she takes a simple bow and sits, the lute resting firmly in her hands.

The first note rings loud a true as she conjures up the smells of the sea.

"It's of a damsel both fair and handsome,
These lines are true, as I've been told.
Near the banks of the River, in a lofty mansion,
Her father garnered great stores of gold.
Her hair was black as raven's feather,
Her form and featuresoh! describe who can?
But still, it's a folly belongs to Nature:
She fell in love with a servant-man.

As those two lovers were fondly talking,
Her father heard them, and near them drew;
In anger home her father flew;
To build a dungeon was his intention,
To part true love he contrived a plan,
He swore an oath by all his mansion
He'd part that fair one from her servant-man.

So he built a dungeon with bricks and mortar,
With a flight of steps, for it was underground;
The food he gave her was bread and water,
The only comfort for her was found.
Three times a day he cruelly beat her,
Unto her father she thus began:
If I've transgressed, my own dear father,
I will lie and die for my servant-man.

Young Edwin found her habitation,
It was secured by an iron door.
He vowed, in spite of all the nation
He would gain her freedom, or rest no more.
So, at his leisure, he toiled with pleasure
To gain the freedom of Mary Ann;
And when he had found out his treasure
She cried, My faithful young servant-man!

Said Edwin, Now I've found my treasure
I will be true to you likewise,
And for your sake I will face your father;
To see me here it will him surprise.
When her father brought her bread and water
To call his daughter he then began,
Said Edwin, Enter, I've freed your daughter,
I will suffer - your servant-man!

When her father found that she was vanished,
Then like a lion he thus did roar,
Saying, From here you shall be banished,
And with my sword I will spill your gore!
Agreed, said Edwin, I freed your daughter,
I freed your daughter, do all you can;
But forgive your treasure, I'll die with pleasure,
For the one fault is your servant-man.

When her father found him so tender-hearted,
Then down he fell on the dungeon floor,
Saying that love should never be parted,
Since love can enter an iron door.
So soon they're one, to be parted never,
And roll in riches this young couple can,
This fair young lady is blessed with pleasure,
Contented with her young servant-man."

As the last note ends she lowers her head for a brief moment before switching to a fast Arpeggio picking style number.
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Cleaning cantrip: Cantrips [1d20] = 15 fail
Heating: Cantrips [1d20] = 11 pass
Bell cantrip: Cantrips [1d20] = 11 pass
Conjuring the sea: Cantrips [1d20] = 10 pass

Proficiency check:Singing / playing [1d20] = 9