Mira Rhelarwen (Jenara)- Private Thread

[TristenC]

The flesh continues to melt away until there are only bones remaining. Mira circles around him and begins to move cautiously West, away from whatever was slaying draconians like so many mice.

A low rattle and humm arises from the dragon man’s bones and they shake violently on the ground. When she is about 20 feet away the clatter reaches a fevered pitch and the ivory remains explode like shattered glass! Mira shields herself from the flying splinters with one arm, feeling them pelt her entire body. Fortunately no damage is done, but the crash was identical to the one she had heard before. It was probably a pretty good bet that the other two draconians were dead… Utter silence hung heavy in the misty night after the explosion. Her ears strained for any noise beyond her own breathing, but no sign nor sound emerged from the thickened fog.

[ooc: visibility is down to about 25’ right now]

[Jenara]

So the creatures exploded? How could one fight creatures that killed even in death? Fighting the sense of dread that was rising in her stomach Mira moves slowly away from what felt like an inevitable death.

If only she could retrace her steps, there had to be a way out, a way to safety.. What had possessed her to make a stupid risk like that? Draconian's here.. She had to find the city watch, and get out of this damn fog..

[TristenC]

[Yeah... some draconians explode after they die... others have different 'surprise endings']

Mira remembers the draconian mentioned carrying her about 50 yards... it was a shame she was asleep during that time and had no way of knowing which direction she had come... or which way she was even facing! The direction she had instinctively thought of as West could actually be anything in this... The only boon was that the odd weather also obscured her from the predator that was certainly still out there...

Although she did not know for sure which way she should go she knew without a doubt which way she should not. Keeping that in the forefront of her mind, she moved directly away from where the last dragon man had emerged. She tried to move quietly, but this area of the park was thick and unkempt. She had visited many times before, but she could not now identify the part of the park she was in.

The moist cloud-like air penetrated her clothing, which clung clammily to her skin. The night aged, and the evening chill had become unseasonably cold. Mira was surprised to see mist escape from her mouth with each increasingly nervous breath. She continued her trek through the dark, now overgrown and tangled trees... A dim, yellowish glow seemed to becon her in the distance; still obfuscated by the fog...

[Jenara]

(I know that, just assumed she wouldn't)

All she knew was she was walking away from the creatures, and whatever killed them, and to her that mattered a lot. Wishing she had warmer clothes she struggles trying to hold the pack close and tighten her cloak around her body.

As eerie as the yellow glow was it didn't feel... "Mira you fool.." She curses herself quietly and walks, wishing her feet didn't sound like a herd of raging cattle.

What in the Abyss could have killed those creatures, a dragon perhaps? Or something just as scary from the a fairytale..

Keeping her sword out and ready before her she grits her teeth and walks in the direction she had chosen, what did that song say? 'Keep your path straight, walk tall, and the road will find you.'

[TristenC]

[OOC: yeah, she didn’t. I just didn’t know if you would or not I always thought that was kind of an interesting aspect to them… it truly fits their vicious nature ]

Mira stepped carefully through the thickening woodland. The source of the light began to grow and waver slightly. It was difficult to define with the mist and trees in the way, but it looked like it might be a campfire. Gradually she began to hear quiet sounds like people speaking in the distance. A burst of laughter in the same direction confirmed her suspicions. Cautiously she creeps closer, but an unseen branch cracks at her step and the laughter stops. She freezes, holding her sword tightly.

A man comes forth out of the fog. He moves carefully and appears to be carrying a piece of firewood as a makeshift club. He is lean but fairly muscular. He wears a red sash with a curved dagger thrust behind it, baggy red and white striped breeches, and an embroidered short vest over a white cotton shirt that is only partially buttoned even in the cold. The dark brown eyes beneath his thick raven-colored brows and short cropped hair land on her. His head jerks back in surprise, and he immediately lowers the club. A smooth shaven face above his square jaw smiles back at her. His lips part and a strong baritone voice asks, Cosa stai facendo qui nella nebbia? Frequantemente è pericoloso…

The language is alien to her, but the tone is full of concern. He extends his empty hand towards her in an inviting gesture. Per favore, vieni al lato di fuoco. He gestures back towards the glow, it seems he wants her to come with him…

[Jenara]

Mira watches the man depart and stands motionless for a moment, she'd never claim to know every language on Krynn, but this was totally alien. She had two choices, stand there like a fool or take the fairy by the wings and walk into the camp.

Deciding on the latter she slides the sword back into its scabbard and lets go of her cloak allowing it to open, trying to prove she had nothing to hide. Walking slowly into the camp, her hands outstretched in a gesture of peace. "I don't understand.." She says in common, her voice faltering she lets her arms fall in something close to despair, her rather ample chest moving in and out as she forces herself to calm down.

[TristenC]

As Mira nears the light she sees that it is indeed a campfire, and a roaring warm one at that. A half dozen people aside from her handsome new acquaintance sit gathered around on fallen logs and stones. There are a couple of middle aged men and one much older who is perhaps in his sixties. They are all garbed similar to her 'guide'. A semicircle of brightly painted wagons stands behind them some few feet off, with a half dozen draft horses tethered between the wagon tongues.

There are likewise two women of middling age seated near the men. A third woman, strikingly beautiful with midnight hair gathered by a red scarf and eyes of a sharp violet, stands waiting for the younger man apprehensively. Her knot tassled red shawl, now draped across her shapely hips, sways as she turns to regard the newcomer. Her expression is one of surprise, and it seems an unpleasant surprise. Her eyes dart back to the young man and narrow.

When Mira speaks, all of the others look about in confusion; as if waiting to see if anyone else understands her. The younger woman smiles almost scornfully and approaches. Ce qui vous amène ici, a perdu un ? The language is different than that of the young man. It is musical and faintly reminds her of Elven due to its musical quality. The others look at her expectantly, presumably having understood the question.

[Lang check: special. 0+5%(elven): 1d100=18 Fail.

[Jenara]

"I'm sorry." She says in common, then pauses, the language sounded like Elven.. "You speak Elven?" Her voice breaking using Silvanesti, then "Elven?" In Qualinesti. She was obviously somewhere, heavens she knew enough of Magic to know something was going on.

Standing with her hands at her sides she eyes the people around the fire with interest, she didn't recognise the way any of them looked, nothing looked familiar. She had two choices accept that she wasn't in the park anymore, or that what? She was dreaming? Stupid choice. No she was here, better accept it and try to communicate.

[TristenC]

The young woman tilts her head at the elven speech, but no recognition crossess her face. She takes a longer look at Mira, and her gaze hesitates on her weapons. Her mouth tightens a bit at the redhead's 'natural resources', and she glances at the man again suspiciously. Finally she speaks to Mira again, Suivez-moi, jeune fille. Nous verrons ce que la Raunie dit de vous.... Turning, she walks towards the door on the lead wagon apparently taking for granted that Mira will follow. Again the harmonic speech hovers just on the edge of her understanding. Perhaps in time she could learn this language...

The rest of the camp watches her without undue concern. They seem calm and content in these unusual circumstances. Mira takes another good look at the camp. It seems almost impossible that this would be part of the park. There was a thicker area of trees in the center of the park that she had not explored, but surely it wasn't anything like this... was it? And where would these gypsies have come from?!

[Lang check: special. 0+5%(bonus for knowing elven):
1d100=71 failed. Mira doesn't understand the words, but body language tells her the woman wants her to follow.

[Jenara]

Raunie that sounded like a name, grasping onto that thought she takes a step forward, "I'm sorry, I can't help the way the gods made me." She utters her hands on her hips, her own self coming out despite the situation.

Motioning to lead wagon she repeats the word "Raunie" expecting the response she starts to walk slowly forwards. Magic.. Whatever happened here magic had played a part.. Later she would have to cope with this, to deal with the situation. But right now, she had to figure out what in the abyss happened here.

[TristenC]

La Raunie, she says almost petulantly as they approach the wagon. The word is invested with reverence, it seems now more a title than a name. As they reach the wagon, the girl knocks gently on the door. After a few moments it opens with a creak and a stooped, elderly woman decked all in dark shawls and faintly tarnished silver jewelry appears. Her weathered face may once have been bautiful, but her piercing blue eyes shone with wisdom and facility.

Lei è qui... the old woman says to nobody in particular, using the same language the young man first spoke. Che appare esattamente come la mia visione, ma senza sangue... Non ancora. She smiles and nods reassuringly to Mira, then says to the other woman, Leggere la sua fortuna, ragazza.

The raven haired lady looks shocked and is about to protest when a stern look from the matriarch cuts it off. She glares at the redhead as if the rebuke were somehow her fault. she sits at the steps and takes out a pack of intricately decorated cards. Mira had seen the like before, carnival gypsies supposedly used them to tell the future.

[Jenara]

Mira grabs her scabbard and lowers herself gently much in the way of a curtesy, "I don't understand you, but I think you deserve some respect." She raises her head again, and kneels before her.

"Mira." She points to herself, "Krynn." She opens her palm, blowing gently as if she were blowing dust from her palm. "My home is gone.." She lowers her head and sighs.

[TristenC]

The old woman nods, for all the world as if she understands her perfectly. She nudges the younger woman gently, who begins dealing cards face down in an elaborate pattern. A spark reaches the younger woman's eye and she extends her hand as if she expects payment...

Before Mira can begin to respond to the gesture, the elderly woman strikes the younger lightly across the back, but her tone is much sharper and more accusing. Lei non deve essere ricaricata. Ma lei è una giorgia! The old woman glares at the raven haired beauty sternly, Sai che quello che lei dovrà affrontare. Ma... Silenzio! the old lady pronounces.

The whole of the camp falls dead-silent. The withered woman grasps a cane from inside the wagon and begins the arduous journey to the bottom of the three wrought iron steps attached to the rear of the wagon. The brunette is much chagrined at the exchange, but humbly assists the matriarch's descent.

Ease your mind, child. The strained voice trills Mira'sown native common, which falls fresh and clear on her confused ears. I have dreamed of you, my child... she continues understandingly. You have survived great perril... a small coughing fit overtakes the woman for a moment. Sandrina, if that was the younger woman's name, patted La Raunie concernedly on the back before she was waved away and the elder continued.

More vast and greater danger will you face, and soon... Companions you may have, if you so choose... the safer way lies within numbers... you will know them when they come. Some will be familiar, some not. You must wait for them... To the dark haired girl she speaks, Parlarle solo in Harmoniee. E di essere gentile! Sai che ciò che lei deve affrontare quando se ne va. Sandrina blushes, very out of place on so bold a personality, and nods in acquiescence.

There are things you will need... the white-haired woman says. Commercio! she calls out to the group around the fire. In a half-stunned state, the middle aged men hurry each to a different wagon and unroll blanket-spreads of weapons near Mira's feet. Each holds a variety of weapons, some very old, some newer but with brightly polished edges. She quickly realizes the newer weapons are bladed with Sterling Silver! The older ones must be nearly pure iron... the two men wait, expectantly. The astonished gaze of the men upon her is somewhat disquieting, but not offensive.

[List of items for purchase:
Iron: Scimitar, trident, warhammer, bastard sword, sickle
Silver: knife, handaxe, longsword]

[Jenara]

Mira stands in shock while the two women talk, hearing her own language almost physical knocks her on her backside. "What.....?" She mutters quietly, what in the Aybss was going on here?

"You speak my language? How can you do that?" Her tone is strained and forced, each breath is fast and drawn. "I don't understand, face challenges, find companions..? I'm just a singer, I sing silly songs I don't fight vast and great dangers.." Like she didn't fight Dracionans in the middle of the Park."

"Please, why would I need weapons, silver weapons? I can't use most of those, I haven't been trained how to use them." What was wrong with her? She did stand almost crying dammit, she got on with it.

"How much would this be?" She asks Reaching for the Longsword, a blade close to her own shortsword she was trained to use.

[TristenC]

[Ooc: Yeah… the random weapon rolls weren’t great for your WP selection… luck of the draw, I guess]

The elderly woman smiles at her reassuringly, though she looks weary. I have traveled far, but that is of no importance… She touches her face gently with a wizened hand. Fear not, child, she adds, tenderly. We all face new challenges, every time we grow… You have a fire within you, and a will to endure. As for the items… I have foreseen that they will be needed… Her voice trails off and she coughs lightly, obviously enduring some strain to speak with her at length.

As Mira became increasingly emotional, she noticed the younger woman look at her critically. Resolving to herself not to let the brunette see her cry, she pulls herself together a bit. Moving to the weapons rolled out before her Mira questions the man, indicating longsword. He obviously doesn’t know her language, but the gesture is enough. He nods and points to each silver bladed item in turn. Pointing to the dagger he holds up one finger, for the axe he holds up two. When he reaches the Longsword, however, He holds up all of his fingers, opening and closing his hands so they show three times. She begins to balk at the price, but realizes the precious metal is likely the reason for the added cost…

The other man indicates his prices in a similar manner.

[Weapon Prices
Iron: Scimitar (15), trident (2), Warhammer (15), bastard sword (25), sickle (1)
Silver: knife (1), handaxe (2), longsword (30)]