As the sun rises over Karick's Bend, the town begins to stir.  First on the streets are a handful of the guards, but they're quickly followed by others, as people wake up, get ready, and start their days.

Within an hour after the first light breaks over the horizon, people are bustling about their business - almost as normal, although it can hardly be denied that there are frequent glances in the direction of the Schoolhouse, and the Strangers are already the main topic of conversation.

Yona wakes, soaked in sweat and tightly bound in her blanket.  She struggles to get free, further hampered by the fact that she has, as usual, moved onto the floor under the bed at some point during the night.  She finally gets free, slides out, and stands up.  And belatedly remembers her stick.

This is followed by several minutes of thought, sitting on the edge of the bed, regarding the terrifying dream.  A check of her ankle reveals no bite marks, and she doesn't seem to have sustained any other injuries either.  But she still has vivid flashes of disturbing images from the dream - feral children, encroaching darkness, madness, having Peck for a brother...

Finally she stirs herself and goes to the kitchen for breakfast.  Her father is already out at work, so she settles for a hunk of bread, the last of the cheese, and a cup of milk that would probably have been entirely undrinkable in a couple of hours, even by her undemanding standards.

Then she heads for the school, leaning on her stick as she hobbles towards the village.

Nearing the schoolhouse, she can see that there are already others there.  Embarrassingly, everybody in the village seems to be looking at the place, at least in Yona's eyes, which means that everybody is also watching her as she approaches the structure.  For a moment she wishes she could simply vanish.  And that stops her in her tracks, as she suddenly recalls that she had done exactly that in her dream.

So not everything about it had been bad.  The vanishing part had actually been interesting.  And enjoyable.

Walking onward, she pushes into the schoolhouse...

Despite having had trouble going to sleep Anora had eventually drifted of to the land of dreams.  As usual it was strange dreams that haunted her, things that made little sense once she woke up even if they felt less so when dreaming.

But she had woken up early, as always in the Sawtvest household.  Laying in a big pile with the others rarely made for a comfortable sleep, with elbows, knees and fingers sooner or later waking someone up.

Shaking her head to clear away the bizarre dreams she struggles to her feet and makes her way out of the pile.  The first one to awake, always good, especially before Pemrem.  She resists the urge to do something to him while he is asleep, in return for the countless times he has done something, and makes her way towards the doorway.

The sun is not yet up, so she climbs up on the roof of the crumbling shack she calls home and sits down next to what passes for a chimney.  Trying to recall the dreams she frowns and then her eyes goes wide.  Had it been a dream?

She reaches inside her tunic, into a little pocket she made herself and feels something there.  Her heart misses a beat as she reaches into the pocket and pulls out the content, clasping it tightly in her hand so should will not lose it.

There she sits, gazing fearfully at her closed hand.  What if it is not true?  What if it is?  She swallows hard and opens her clenched fist, slowly.

There it is.

She snaps her hand closed and looks around.  Is she awake or is this one of the less weird but still weird dreams?  No, the stench is real enough.  Her eyes are drawn to the hand again and it opens just enough to reveal its treasure.  Feeling faint she quickly but carefully pockets the item again and slides down off the roof.

Today will be one curious day, she thinks as she steers her way towards the school, a slow leisurely walk.


As she approaches the school she almost turns around.  So many people.  Her stomach chimes in, telling her to go hunt down something to eat, but then she sees her.  Slouching down more than usual she attempts to approach the school without drawing any attention whatsoever.  Sometimes it works, no one likes to look at a dirty and evidently lowest of all kid.  So low is her gaze that she does not even see Yona just ahead of her.

Ariadne stormed down the stairs from her bedroom and directly through the house and out the door.
"Ariadneee..." Neela called.
Ariadne turned on her heels and rushed back in did a circle around the dinnertable where she grabbed an apple and the basket with lunch for her and her siblings in the passing before speeding out the door again.
"Thanks mom. Love you mom. Bye mom."
"Ariadne" This time Neela's voice was a bit more firm.
Ariadne stormed back into the kitchen, grabbed a bun and placed it in the thatched basked before heading toward the door again.
"Ariadne!" This time Neela used a voice that would cause skidmarks on the floor if Ariadne had managed to pick up more speed.
"What? what have I forgot this time? Angie and Sally don't have to go to school today..."
"I know young lady... Which is exactly why I want to know why you are in such a hurry.
You have plenty of time to both check on Bandit and ask if your father if he needs anything from the neighbours before you're off."
Neela crossed her arms and gave Ariadne an inquisitive look.
"What are you trying to hide?"
Ariadne gave an embarrassed laugh.
"Ahem... "I-am-not-trying-to-hide-anything-and-I-am-going-to-bring-these-delicious-looking-apples-to-Angua-and-Salicia"" Ariadne replied in the extremely rehearsed monotone voice (all while taking a little bit firmer grip in the palmed knife from Flechette. Neela scoffed with mild amusement.
"Oh alright. I suppose you're up to something with your friends...
Very well. You can go. Oh and tell Opluriko that now his snout is too big to fit in the jars he is welcome to come help Hamilcar with gathering the honeycombs."
"Will do. Now off to school. Tell Angie and Sallie that I'm holding lunch until they both meet in the schoolyard."

Ariadne ran off into the road and after a while she looked over to see if she was still being watched. Then ducked off the road and into the trees before sneaking off into school.
A single stick was later picked up and used. Partially as a walking stick and partially to match up with Chaia in case she decided she wanted a rematch.
First priority was to get lunch for her and her sisters to the classroom and out of reach of Chaia and other undeserving people.

Ariadne stopped dead in her tracks.
It seemed like the entire village was gathered outside the schoolhouse.
"What are they all doing here this early in the morning?..." she muttered.
Pretending nothing was out of the ordinary Ariadne walked nonchalantly passed all the people, around the house and climbed in the window out of everyone's view.
At least she hoped so.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:27, Tue 17 Sept 2013.

The T'skrang had woken far earlier, but had taken the time to calm her mind and heart after the strange, terrifying dream. Pressing herself against the rock by the riverside where s/he liked to sun had cooled not just her mind, but also her body, making her a bit groggy, and her attempt to think about what the dream could mean slowed.

The first neigh of a horse, though, 'woke' her from her groggy, but not fully asleep, state. Wanting to get her chores done quickly, s/he got up and went about the morning tasks of feeding and turning animals out for the day, having to wake more than a few of them in the process.

Starting so early, s/he managed to avoid even the other T'skrang, although s/he could see the smoke from the chimney meaning that someone was up and making breakfast. But s/he just really didn't feel hungry. Grabbing an apple, s/he headed into town, but half way across thought that maybe the strangers would be hungry, so turned back. There were several apple trees in the area that the T'skrang called their own, even if they were more used for beast treats than anything else. S/he took the time to pluck two apples for each of the strangers, using a feed bag to hold them, before heading back to town. Still not wanting to face anyone, and finding that there were more people awake in town already than s/he had expected, s/he approached the school from behind. It wasn't that s/he was afraid of people, s/he just didn't want to deal with them right now. Not being able to avoid the rest, once s/he had basically arrived, s/he went around the school and into the door as if she belonged there. After all, s/he thought, puffing up a bit, s/he had been the first to meet the strangers, who had more right than her?

Shard woke up at his usual time, sometime before dawn rolling out of bed and rubbing eyes and other places that itched.  Moving to the wash basin Shard washes his face with cold water helping to remove the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and mind.  Rubbing his face with the warm towel, he dries off before quickly brushing his beard and braiding his moustache where needed.  Selecting tow black smooth stones for his braided moustache he ties them on to keep the hair out of his mouth and face.

Stripping off his sleeping garments Shard washes the rest of his body before doning his work clothes and sets to the table finding his mother, father and grandmother doing their usual.  The porridge was hot and the honey a nice touch.  Eating quickly Shard sets to the meal and grabs a pear as he heads out to do his morning chores.  "I'll be at the schoolhouse after chores." he calls out as he leaves the door, letting his mother know where he could be found if needed.

Moving to the stone yard, Shard inspects the new rocks brought in from their contract and selects a few that were not cracked and looked to be in good shape for stonework later.  Those that were so badly cracked he placed them in the stonemason yard where each rock would be chiseled to its larges form then used to build walls, fences and other manufacturing needed in their line of work.

Glancing at the sun, Shard figured it was time.  Taking off his old leather apron, he sets his stone mason hammer to his belt and looked about at some of his better work.  Taking a finished stone lion he had worked on he placed it in his pocket and picked up several wooden blocks and a soap block into his pocket.  Taking a carving knife and fine chisel, he placed both Artisan instruments in his pocket before setting out eating the pear on his way.

Keeping an eye out for his two nemesis he was glad neither had woken up yet or perhaps were too busy with the strangers to bother him.  Glancing about at those gathered Shard wove his way through the crowd gathered at the School house and entered taking a seat in the second row, by himself if possible.

Peck wakens abruptly, shouting in fear (if silently, for no sound can pass the constriction in his throat) and swinging at the air with his fists, unaware for the moment that he is no longer in the dream.

But as his blows strike none of those pressed about him, he gradually comes to realise that whatever demons of the night assailed him they are gone now, banished by the light of dawn and wakefulness.

The pickle.  Yona.  Merchant's son.  The madness.  Yona.

Shaking his head and rubbing his scalp with hard-pressed fingers does naught to lift the confusion ... but the icy cold water in the pale begins the task, and the mundanity of morning chores furthers that end, if not entirely banishes the unreality.

Food is the last thing upon Peck's mind, but the blacksmith chokes down his morning meal ... and then he is out, in the streets of the town.

No better.  Shying at every look cast his way (or not) as if his neighbours are but a heart's beat away from turning upon him tooth and nail.  Head down, Peck hurries towards the schoolhouse, seeking if not answers, then at least a semblance of security.

Different faces here today, but Opluriko is back again and ...

"Yona !" relief washes over him as he sees his sister ... no ! ... his friend,  though he is uncertain how to explain any of this to her.

Yona flinches at the familiar voice, and turns to face its source, "Peck." she says, nodding as noncommittal a greeting as she can manage.  She'd hate to give anybody any sort of impression that might make them think the wrong thing.  Most of all Peck, who'd likely see her dream as a sure sign of insanity.

Probably best not to mention it.

"I had to come and talk to Jenette about something." she explains, unnecessarily as she looks about for the woman.  "You know... she's one of the strangers."

The nervous girl with the limp is many miles from the confident young woman in his ... he supposed it must have been a dream after all, though nothing so vivid had ever visited on him before.

The smile he returns to his friend is genuine, though.  "Aye, and I for Kira," he answers in return, "she promised to share with me more of her knowledge of metal working."

"Strange indeed are their ways," the smith remarks, nodding in agreement.

"Some new faces today ?" he looks around the room.  "And some missing ... our strangers must have scared them off.  Or scared their parents."

Ariadne walked in from one of the back rooms and with her usual air of nonchalance placed the thatched basket on what was evidently her seat. Good view of the curious villagers in the window and within earshot in case teacher would say something she would deem as adequately important.

"So what did I miss?"
It was the usual question signifying as much interest in what has been going on in her absence as it was an indicator she had been grounded again.

In reply to Ariadne (msg # 10):

Shard looks back at the others invited to attend.  Shard gave the others a good look, after all if he was invited then he must have something special they wanted or that they saw in him.  By the same logic, these others must have a spark in them that the strangers saw.  He didn't see it, but perhaps that was because he had lived with these people his whole life.

Shrugging he chewed on his bottom lip in quiet contemplation for a few seconds before deciding to answer Ariadne.

He thought about coming up with something funny to say, but his dwarf sense of humor was often misunderstood, so was blunt, as usual.  "Nothing.  Just got here myself though, but seeing as nothing was started yet, I doubt we missed anything."

The Strangers have started making the building comfortable - at least, as a campsite, if not really a home.  The sawdust has been swept out, some of the building wood moved around for seating, and bedrolls and blankets laid across it for a bit of comfort.  The place where the roof isn't filled in yet has a tent stretched out and pinned across it - not covering it fully, but effectively.  Jenette is just putting away what are presumably the remains of a simple breakfast.

One still lies curled up on his roll in the back corner; Kira steps over by him and gives him a nudge with her foot, hissing down, "Psst!  We've got company.  Time to wake up."  The elf sits up and stretches languidly, hair falling over his face until he dismisses it with a toss of his head, and then crosses his legs and remains seated, leaning back against the wall.

It's the T'skrang, of course, who actually comes up to the doorway and waves everyone in expansively.  "Welcome! Welcome!  An excellent morning to you all.  I trust," he looks at Shard, "Your curiosity is attendant?  So...soft Alia, young Kerric, solid Mace'aurek.  A shame, perhaps we'll see them later, one hopes.  If I may introduce to you all, Shard Hammerhand," he turns back to his own friends, twirling his hand and bowing towards the dwarf.  "An Earthshaper in all its forms, but one who, I dare believe, yet breathes the air and drinks the water.  But who, may I ask, are you?"  He looks at Ariadne and Anora, curiously.  "I've a fair memory for faces, but I don't believe I saw either of you yesterday.  Quite curious.  I am Tralistaire Ten-Tails, otherwise known as the talkative one.  It is my honor - indeed, my pleasure - to meet you."

Ariadne got out of her seat and walked up to the T'skrang before curtsying.
The difference between her patched dress and her manners seemed underlined.
"I am Ariadne, the millers daughter.
It is a pleasure to meet you"
She kept her head down and the position for several minutes.

"Unfortunate circumstances have kept me at home for the last week, but it is nothing to concern ourselves about now..."
A suppressed smile appeared on her lips as she thought of just how close she had been to pushing Chaia off the bridge when she was interrupted. At least that was how she chose to look upon the situation.

In reply to Vestrial (msg # 12):

Shard tilts his heed in greeting to the T'skrang speaker of the house or at least the strangers.  Looking at the othes as they were introduced, he nods morning to them as well, though he knew several of them; the village wasn't that big after all.

Looking back to the one who had invited him, "Good morning Tralistaire.  I have my curiosity with me as requested, will there be answers today?"

Yona makes her way across to a place which is as much out of the way as possible and sits, taking the weight off her leg, at least while introductions are being made.  She keeps a firm grip on her walking stick, not wanting it to vanish as it had in the dream classroom.

Unlike the dream self, her real self has need of that stick.

She shakes her head to clear away the unwelcome vestiges of the dream, and the equally unwelcome emotions they bring with them.

Fortunately the T'skrang's enthusiasm is infectious, and helps her drive out the memories.

"I'm uh..."

Anora tried to sink down further in her seat after the miserable attempt to speak on her part.  Her gaze fell down on the desk and she started to pick at the ever present muck under her nails.

The thought of getting up in front of everyone nearly made her panic, her blushing face betraying her embarrassment.

Gathering what willpower she still had she rose to her feet and quickly spurted out a few words.  "Anora Sawtvest, I was invited by, uh, by..."  She lifted her gaze long enough to try to spot the visitor from last night.

"I don't know her name, but it was her."  Courage quickly dwindling she caught herself before she could point at the Windling and instead nodded in her general direction, holding back the offending hand with the other.  "....and the honour's mine."

She more or less fell back into her seat, too nervous to look at anyone.  She had been invited, had she not?  If she had dared to move she would have checked her hidden pocket for the treasure she had been given.  The treasure she meant to give to her parents, but feared their reaction.  When time was right, she told herself.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:56, Tue 24 Sept 2013.

Peck too is surprised that Alia and Kerric at least are not here, for a moment the terror of the night's dreaming washes over him once more - the pair wandered off on their own, did they not, and now ?  But Ariadne's explanation for her absence produces a spurt of laughter that turns into a coughing fit that quite drives such thoughts from his head.

The young smith grins broadly at his neighbour, but says naught that might give her secret away.

Opluriko didn't say anything, as s/he had not been addressed, which was fine. But s/he was anxious to get the day started - already s/he had been up for hours, and the idea of waiting more was not easy for her at this point. Her tail twitched, like a cat waiting for a mouse to make the wrong move.

"Answers," Tralistaire repeats.  "Yes, I think we have a few of those lying around.  Flech, have you seen my answers?"

The Human in the leather armor rolls her eyes dramatically.  "Ask Jenette.  I don't clean up after other people."

The Dwarven woman laughs at that.  "Yes, you do.  In your own way.  Anora..."  She looks at Anora, tilting her head.  "Nice to meet you."  She glances up curiously at the Windling, who drops down with a brief flutter of her wings to land on the floor.

"Calisaren," she says, with a small bow.  "Jenette, Flechette, Orm'gha, Llewenden and Kira.  And Tralistaire, of course," she quickly runs through their Names, each one nodding, smiling, or waving as they're indicated; the last she says quickly, as, though he's already introduced himself, the T'skrang is opening his mouth to speak until the Windling cuts him off.  "And I think we should start with some of these answers.  We met several of you yesterday, as well as a few other people in your town.  The Mayor has asked us to meet for lunch, which gives us," she glances again at Tralistaire, "A bit of a time limit this morning."

"We told those of you who were here yesterday, but I shall repeat for those who weren't - it is odd that there are no Adepts in your town.  Moreover, while we haven't met everyone yet, we're finding no adults with the potential to be Adepts, which is also odd.  Not to say that it's always easily spotted, of course, the theories underly--"

Kira clears her throat loudly, and Calisaren blushes.  "Sorry.  Theory.  My weakness.  Well.  The important thing is, we don't understand these oddities, and haven't even confirmed half of it, but we think it's important to investigate.  But while we're doing that... well, we're relatively certain that you all do have the potential, even if some of the specifics have yet to be determined.  Certainly in those of you we spent yesterday afternoon with, and you three, Shard, Anora, Ariadne, we invited because you showed promise."

She frowns a little.  "Actually, as I think about it, there is a remarkably high percentage of potential in your..."  Kira clears her throat again, and Calisaren sighs.  "Right.  We don't wish to do anything intrusive, and we think it's probably best that we don't start telling everyone - perhaps anyone - until we know more of what's happening here, but, we would like to formally offer apprenticeship to each of you.  Yona, Peck, and Opluriko began yesterday, actually, and you're welcome to ask them how it's gone so far, or to ask any of us... well, anything you'd like.  Though I cannot promise to answer everything at this time, albeit mostly because we remain ignorant on many issues you might inquire about."

In reply to Calisaren (msg # 20):

Shard frowned as he listened to the Windling.  While he understood most of what she said, a bit he let slip by because he didn't care too much about why many in the village didn't have the capability to become an 'adept'.  Not all stones were good for foundry work just as not all trees were meant to be fruit trees.  Such was life and best to get over any fault of the stone or tree to save yourself headache and get to what can be done with the assets on hand.

Shard rubbing his chin thinks for a second then asks, "What apprenticeship do you offer and to whom?  Do you have a magic eight ball that will tell us what is best or what magic may be brewing inside us?  How long will you be here and will it be enough to finish what you start?  What I mean is, how long will training take?  My father won't be happy if I am not around to do my chores, so will take some explaining to him and he'll want to know how long I'll be away." he asks pateintly.

Peck grimaces in sympathy with the dwarf, the moreso as Kerric's absence is only too easily explained in similar terms. "I am lucky," he tells Shard, "my father is wary, but sympathetic, even if that tolerance will only stretch so far."

"But though I've only scratched the surface of what Kira is trying to show me, I think ... feel, that this is important, perhaps the most important thing I will ever do. For all I love my parents dearly, I will risk disappointing them to make the attempt."

In reply to Peck Murtagh (msg # 22):

Shard nods silently as he studied Peck.  He had known of Peck, but had never really spent a lot of time with him, however of all the children, it was likely safe to say he felt the most kinship with him, or rather his profession.  As the son of a Blacksmith, he worked with the earth just as Shard did.  "Perhaps my father will be as wise as yours and agree to the training giving me the time I need, we will see." he offers shrugging.

"I spoke to my father.  I told him about meeting you yesterday, and that you want to teach me, and he didn't object to me coming to learn."  Of course, had she told Jander what she would be learning, he might have expressed a little more doubt.

Which was, of course, why she had told him everything he needed to know to make the right decision.

Ariadne kept completely silent, a very uncharacteristic trait for her, and smiled deviously.
Her mind quickly went to basket where she kept her secret.

"I'm eager to continue," Opluriko chimed in, feeling that she should, but not really knowing what to say.

Still attempting to sink down into the nonexistent hole in the ground, Anora remained silent and merely watched and listen, trying her best to keep up and understand what was happening so that she would not disappoint someone somehow, even though she was not really certain what was really going on.

Did they say she was special, and not the way the bullies did?  She did not feel special in either way, other than being too tall, which perhaps was special in one way, but neither of those two other ways.  She felt a bit dizzy and remained silent.

Shard nods and looks back to the strangers "Whats the agenda?  Do we break into separate groups or we doing a large classroom?  The sun is up, lets get to it." he offers frowning wanting to get to the training so he could get back to work.  He had tasks assigned to him by his father and the instructors seemed to be dragging their feet.  If something needed to be done, it helped not at all to wait and complain about the deed, however much one may not want to do the task.

Ariadne was more or less jumping in her chair.
Her eagerness to find out more about the newcomers made her struggle to contaminate the huge amount of energy and curiosity that had been building up inside her.
If Peck had been sitting in front of her he would most likely have been slapped for his impertinence.
Instead she contemplated volunteering him to babysit her sisters at a later point.
Contemplated was perhaps the wrong word as it indicates spending time on the subject.
Ariadne had already moved on to shifting her gaze between everybody in the room and trying to stare down the villagers looking into the room.

Oblivious to Ariadne's barely contained enthusiasm, Peck grins broadly at Shard's Dwarvish directness, though with a certain wistfulness as he missed having Kerric by his side. "They are as eager to teach as we are to learn, though they need to know more about us ... you," he bluntly amends his statement realising that Shard will better appreciate blunt words than those diplomatically couched.

"For me, the learning is an ... extension of what I already do, what I love to do," the blacksmith's son's lips purse as he ponders this revelation.  "Working with steel, shaping it."

He looks to Kira, hoping she can explain matters better than he.

Shard looks to Peck and listen nodding when he finished.  Looking back to the strangers, he continues, "Very well, bring out your magic, ask your questions, we turn to dust and rust unless we have motion.  As the river must flow, as the air sings and the earth moves in its own way, so must we.  Ask what you will." he growls determinately.

"What!? But... But... But...
Does that mean we have to sit in here... all day!?
Let's get outside and do something!!!"
Someone was clearly in a hurry

Kira smiles and walks over to Peck.  "Well, we'll try not to disappoint him," she says.  "He might be upset for a bit that it's not coming from him, I don't know 'im, but `disappointing' is definitely not the end I'm going for."

Jenette gives Yona a smile that suggests she's caught that subtle difference that lies between not-objecting and informed-consent, and gives the girl an approving nod. 

Llewendan stands up in a languid motion, walking up to Opluriko.  "Eager to meet us, eager to begin, eager to continue," he says, softly.  He reaches out and cups her chin briefly, looking into her eyes, tilting his head this way and then that.  "No, the timid mouseling is not your path.  Tell me, do you prefer to stalk or pounce?"

  Tralistaire laughs in response to Shard's questions.  "The sun is indeed.  Individual instruction is usually the best beginning, although I'm sure we'll sort out some group exercises in time.  I think you have answered my question and my hope - the elements are part and parcel to your being, and I do believe I can expand your understanding of them.  Help you learn to shape the air, water, even fire, as you already do stone."

And Flechette, with a smirk, stalks up to Ariadne.  "You brought my dagger," she says - a statement, not a question.  "I'm not an easy teacher - and no," she curls her lip up in a smile, "You won't learn much just sitting there.  When I'm done with you, you'll be on your way to being the best.  But once you agree, you're my student 'til I say you're not.  Agreed?"

Calisaren walks over to Anora, though, and looks up at her thoughtfully.  "You remain an enigma," she says.  "I see that it is uncomfortable for you.  If you prefer, we may speak in private.  But as Peck says, I must know more about you."

Although s/he did not flinch from Llewendan's had and he cupped her chin, Opluriko resisted for a brief moment, unaccustomed to such forwardness. But then s/he let him tilt her head around - after yesterday, s/he did trust him, after all. "Hm, neither of those words are what I would choose to describe myself. Both imply a certain... stealth... and predatory intent. I guess of those choices, I would say stalking, I guess, as it implies a certain amount of activity, but really, I would say more..." S/he paused as s/he considered how to articulate herself, "More active and exploratory - I'd compare myself more to a squirrel that scampers and pokes its nose in things than to a feline that pounces or a canine that stalks."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Fri 04 Oct 2013.

Seeing Calisaren - it was good to finally have a name for her - approach, Anora wished she was as small and winged so that she could fly up and hide somewhere in the ceiling.  At least the others seemed busy with others, so she was not being in the absolute centre of things.

Even so, she felt as if she had done something wrong.  Perhaps she had not said enough at her introduction, or perhaps she had made another error.

"Sorry, Mistress Calisaren," she said apologetically and managed to look even lower than the Windling, while red roses bloomed on her cheeks.

She cleared her throat and briefly lifted her gaze to meet that of Calisaren.

"I'll do my best, but perhaps you've the wrong person, I'm no one, just the child of a garbage collector," she said with slightly stronger voice, "Perhaps one of my brothers?  We're so many confusion even happens for our parents."

She glanced around nervously, hoping no one paid any attention to her as she potentially offended the Windling by the brass statement that she may have been mistaken.

"Here," she said and dugs into her secret pocket for the golden treasure she had been given.  Surely it was merely used as a sign of that she was the one Calisaren had met, and not for keep.  She held it out towards the Windling in an open palm, biting her lower lip apprehensively.

In reply to Vestrial (msg # 33):



Shard listening nods slowly, "How would one shape water or fire?  I do not think you mean by torch, lantern or campfire nor by freezing water into ice or slush, do you?  Magic?  I have heard of the old ways, but they were lost.  You seemed to indicated that you are an Adept and that we have the potential to become an Adept." Shard continued as mater of fact as he put the pieces together.

"I have heard the songs and the stories of those old Adepts and how they could weave magic.  I know Peck is the son of the blacksmith.  He works with metal as I work with stone.  I have heard of Weaponsmiths in the songs, but I don't think this is my calling but since you are not working with Peck, I don't think that is yours either.  I accept your invitation and look forward to what you have to teach.  My father may be disappointed if I miss some chores, but I feel he will be very proud if I can master this new magic over fire, water, earth and air that you offer."

Ariadne nodded.
Slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed as the smile grew on her face.
Her enthusiasm was hard to hide.

The Dagger also emerged from her basket and was cordially presented to Flechette with both hands.

Without another word, Yona stands and, leaning heavily on her stick, hobbles outside.  Once there, she finds a place to take the weight off her feet, off to one side of the door, and a short distance from the building.

Just far enough that it would be difficult for those inside to hear what's being said, without being so close to the passer's-by that they can hear it.  Not much she can do about the windows, but she's less concerned about people seeing than she is about them listening.

She sits and waits, doing her utmost to look disinterested in what goes on inside.

The blacksmith's son listens on with interest to Shard's analysis, fascinated by the dwarf's mention of the old stories ... which quickly turn to confusion as he speaks of Weaponsmiths and the inference that Peck is set upon that path.

Confusion ... and, well, fear.

But as the implications of that flit back and forth in his mind, those emotions slowly give way to resolve, outwardly manifested by a set of his jaw.

Llewendan looks slightly perplexed at Opluriko's answer.  "A squirrel?" he asks.  "Ah, the little ones.  Yes, I can see that.  Can you take me to one?"

Calisaren smiles as the coin is offered back to her.  "Certainly not a Thief, then," she says, glancing back.  Realizing that Jenette isn't where she was standing a moment ago, she shrugs and turns back to Anora.  "Keep it; it was a gift.  Actually, I am curious about one or two of your brothers, but I'll need to watch a little longer to be sure... but no, I don't think that you're a mistake."

Kira nods.  "You're certainly not no one," she asserts.  "You've already said you're Anora Sawtvest; can't take it back now."

Calisaren smiles a bit, but waves the Ork back.  "Tell me," she suggests, pointing at the coin, "What is that?"  She meets Anora's eyes as she asks the seemingly simple question.

Tralistaire, meanwhile, is nodding to Shard.  "You guess well and wisely.  And `weaving' is an excellent word for what we do, and also starts with a double-u.  As I believe I mentioned last night, I am what is called an Elementalist.  It's a simpler path than some - more intuitive, I find - but no less effective for that.  But to master it, we will need to draw you away from your beloved stone... not far away, of course, just enough.  It is all too easy to set upon a single path, and close doors without ever seeing them."

Flechette takes her dagger back, casually dropping it, point down, into its boot sheath.  "Thanks.  So now," she asks Ariadne, reaching over to her pack and picking up her flail, "What do you have to defend yourself with?"


Outside, Yona looks casual for several quiet minutes before she hears Jenette's voice, lower down but from the other side of the same post she's leaning against.  "That one," she says.  Looking down, Yona sees the jewel-bedecked Dwarf nod out towards someone walking past; she recognizes Kerric's father, whose Name she can't quite remember.  Starts with an `L', much too important to introduce himself to farmers.  He's walking past in a very officious, too-busy-to-stop-and-chat sort of way, but there's also something fairly deliberate to his overall arc.  It would be an easy bet to say that he's going past here because he wants to make sure Kerric isn't.  Jenette, though, goes on quietly, "Seems to have more than he needs, doesn't he?"

"Sure!" Opluriko replied. She hadn't brought a horse this morning, but she was quite use to using her own two feet just as well. She didn't really mean to start running, but she was excited, and her pace kept quickening. "You can swim, right?" She had just the squirrels in mind. On the other side of the river (she knew the other side much better, after all), near the horse pastures, was a giant oak tree. While the first section was difficult to climb, if you could leap, or if you had a horse under you who you could use as a sort of ladder, the branches above were large and spread out, so that even someone not that great at climbing could move around reasonably easily, if they could get up. From there one could watch the pastures with all of the beasts within, or face the other direction, and enjoy the forest. On the higher branches there were at least two squirrel nests - the old oak provided plenty for two families - and she spent enough time up there - or was it that she just related well enough to them? That they were rather unafraid of her, and sometimes she enjoyed seeing how long it would take before one of them would take food from her hand.

The quickest way was to just swim across the river - but the bridge wasn't really that far out of the way. But if Llewendan could swim, then why not get there to start that much quicker?

Shard nods, "The name Elementalist implies something of a master of the elements, I'm fine with learning of the others, for it takes both heat, pressure, cooling and often times water and time to make a stone what it is.  The wind and water will smooth a rock or given enough time, carve it to what it is today.  Led on Tralistaire, I will follow."

"I wish I had known.
After last weeks incident father did tell me not to wield weapons...
In fact; he said that now I'm reaching that age where he will consider telling the boys he is carrying weapons.
Anyway, I'll have to improvise..."

Ariadne walked up to the blackboard and took the long staff used by the teacher on occasion when explaining stuff like levers, measurements or physical education.
That staff was now for all intends and purposes a quarterstaff in Ariadnes hands.

"I'll bring something better tomorrow"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:10, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

"More than he needs, yes, and more than he thinks he needs, but never more than he wants." Yona agrees, amiably, and just as quietly as Jenette.  In her opinion, now she thinks about it (or, rather, now that Jenette has made her think about it) the Dwarf probably has more than the whole village needs.

"Then there are people like Anora... you know, the tall girl... if she had a fourth of what she needs she'd think she was rich.  Or even a sixth."

Anora is dismissed from Yona's mind almost as quickly as she had come into it.

"He's got so much on him, it's a wonder he can walk."  The Dwarf is back, occupying her thoughts, "And a bigger wonder that he can walk without dropping something.  You see the silver pin in his hat?  The one with the blue stone?  That's fastened in place with a sort of clip that's really badly made - I got a good look at it one day - and it's a wonder it doesn't just fall out."

"No, not a thief," Anora said quietly and smiled, albeit briefly, as the offer was refused.  But the smile faded as Calisaren spoke of her brothers.  As her gaze dropped she realised it would not be a surprise if indeed she was not the one, she never had been, other than for some of the bullies.

However, as the words from the Windling and the Orc reached she felt hope soar anew, and she looked up on them with another, somewhat braver smile.

The question posed by Calisaren then morphed Anora's expression into one of puzzlement.  Looking at the coin she pondered what answer might be expected from her.  No doubt it was another test, but how to pass it she had no idea.

"It's...  It's food for my family," she said, turnign the coin over in her hand and pondering how to best answer.  "Best give it to mum, dad'd think I've stolen it."  She realised she had said the last part out loud and promptly blushed, giving the Windling a shy glance.  "I..I..I mean...  Uh..."

Peck too sees Kerric's father ... and from habit moves carefully out of his line of sight, as if his friend were standing next to him and the two sought to avoid accusations of idleness and the work that might be found for them.

Alert to the Dwarf's movements, the blacksmith's son notices that Yona and the Stranger Jenette share his regard, and while their low voices do not carry to his ear, Peck fears he can guess the gist from their manner.  Torn between loyalty and what he sees as right, he chooses to look away.

Llewendan's face lights up as he follows Opluriko.  "I can," he replies.  "I haven't swum in years."  The two hurry out of the schoolhouse, rush down the street, and are soon running, side-by-side, dodging around people who aren't quick enough to dodge around them.  It's all going reasonably well until Opluriko curves around the wall of a house and nearly crashes into Anje, an old woman with a sack over her shoulder.  Anje stumbles out of the rushing T'skrang's path with a shout, bumping into the wall of the house, and losing her balance as her bad leg turns underneath her.  Her sack hits the ground with a rather unfortunate sound of ceramics breaking.

Tralistaire considers.  "I'm not sure `master' is the word I would use," he admits.  "Custodian, manipulator, sometimes ally, but it's my experience that they resist outright subjugation.  But," he allows, "Different outlooks allow different approaches, and that may very well be my own..."  He breaks off suddenly, straightening, tilting his head a bit.  His tail twitches, and then he lets out a long, steady breath.

"Food, indeed," he says, looking at Anora.  "An answer I might have given once myself."

Calisaren looks up at him, frowning.  "That's an acceptable interpretation," she allows, "But it could as well--"

"No," Tralistaire interrupts.  "No, no, that's not the symbolism of economics and you know it.  She speaks the truth of its nature, wrapped in context and hidden in simplicity.  Luckily," he smiles, "I am a consummate juggler, if," he allows, "A somewhat less accomplished Illusionist than I am Elementalist.  Give me the morning with her.  If I am mistaken, you may continue your examination," he promises.  With the Windling's shrug, he gestures to Anora, inviting her to come closer to him and Shard.

Flechette watches Ariadne, shaking her head.  "With a little luck," she says, "Within a couple weeks, we'll be able to tell him you can take care of yourself.  Not now, of course - you'd be lying.  That?  You're as likely to rip your own hand open as hurt anyone else; would've done better to bolt for the door."

Jenette's head turns slowly as she watches as Kerric's father continues down the street.  "So, just what does a man do in a town this size to earn that kind of wealth?" she asks, curiously.

With Anora at least on the way to sorting out, Kira turns her attention back to her own protege, and notices Peck shadowing in the doorway.  "Whatcha think?" she asks, walking over to him, not noticing his momentary discomfort.  "Too soon to bring me in to the shop, or better not to wait?"

Ariadne gave Flechette a sour look.
"It's not my nature to flee.
Besides you never told me to come armed. What other options do I have?"
Ariadne discarded her makeshift weapon with an annoyed motion.

In reply to Tralistaire Ten-Tails (msg # 48):

Shard, patiently folds his arms waiting for the instruction to begin.  Watching the T'skrang he raises a bushy eyebrow ...
This message was last edited by the player at 21:43, Fri 01 Nov 2013.

Peck eagerly turns to Kira, relieved at the distraction. "Marden's ..." happy is not the right word, "... accepting of you and will allow you to use the forge.  But not so sure of your teachings."

"I think I've persuaded him to hold his judgment ... at least he says he will allow you to show me ..." whatever it is I'm trying to grasp "... but he wants to keep an eye on you ... us."

The young Smith shrugs.  "He's a good man.  He cares for me and I for him."

"Sorry!" Opluriko says as she rushes past. But she sees the bag dropping and, although she doesn't have time to turn around to catch it, maybe she can catch it with her tail.

Feeling she somehow did something not quite right - a feeling she was familiar with - Anora silently rose to her feet and approached Tralistaire, giving a small nod to Shard.  One last glance at Calisaren and then her full attention rested with the T'skrang that spoke, to her, in riddles as much as the Windling.  Whatever was going on, Anora felt as if she did not see what was in front of her, so quiet observation was the course she stayed.

"I'm not really sure.  He talks with the mayor a lot, and helps run things around here.  Doesn't talk so much to me and my dad." Yona replies, still keeping her voice low.

"Maybe helping to run things pays well?  But I heard that he got a lot of money from his family too.  They've always been rich, at least that's what people say.  I heard that when his father died, they offered to pay for a big statue of him in the middle of town, but there was some sort of argument about it, and the mayor said the town didn't need a statue."

The girl shrugs, "But that was when I was still a baby, or maybe even before, so I can't say for certain."

Flechette's flail whips out as Ariadne tosses her club aside, but instead of striking at Ariadne, the leather strands wrap around the wood, plucking it out of the air and twitching it back to Flechette.  She catches it in her other hand.  "Didn't I?" she asks.  "I'd've sworn I told you to bring a dagger," she notes, resting the wood against her shoulder, while the flail hangs deceptively loose.  She shifts her stance just slightly, only moving a few inches, but it puts her decidedly between Ariadne and the doorway.

"Why don't you tell me?" she asks.  "Unarmed, outclassed, and if fleeing were suddenly to become part of your nature, now I'm in your way.  Just what are your options?"

Kira smiles.  "Sounds like a beginning I can work with," she says.  "Show me the way."  As they start walking, she asks, "So, what've you told him so far?"

Opluriko stops suddenly and jumps back, catching Anje's sack on her tail.  It's too heavy for her to hold that way, but she lets it slide down to land... relatively gently on the ground.

As Llewendan rounds the corner, he stops, offering her a steadying hand as she catches her breath.  She seems momentarily caught between yelling at Opluriko for bumping into her, or thanking her for catching the bag, and finally settles on a reproachful look at the both of them, and muttering, "Watch where y'r going, young'un," as she picks her bag up and hobbles away.

In the opposite corner from where Flechette has Ariadne, Shard and Anora both stand before Tralistaire, who smiles gently at Anora, and then nods to Shard.  "Very well, then.  I, as it happens, do indeed follow both the paths of the Elementalist, and the Illusionist - though the elements came first, and may well color my thinking on the art of illusions.  As an Elementalist, I see the world as concrete; absolute.  Water is Water, Earth is Earth, and so forth.  It's all quite reliable, I find.  Illusionists... seek the truths within, beyond, and behind.  Truths that lie hidden from easy view.  For example," he holds a hand up, the coin balanced between two fingers, "Where an Elementalist might call this a thing of Earth - a statement undeniably True - an Illusionist sees a further Truth, lurking behind the shine.  That of food," he nods to Anora, and turns his hand over, palm up; the coin is gone, revealing instead a handful of nuts.  "Or tools," he closes his hand briefly, opening it again to show a handful of small nails, "Or even friendship."  Turning his hand he holds it out towards Anora to shake, a movement unaccompanied by the scattering of nails that it should be, as they seem to have vanished.

"It was clouds that started me on the path," he continues on, conversationally, "But as I was just beginning to explain to Shard, your paths will not be mine.  Similar, perhaps, and they may cross in places, but every Adept must find their own way."

Jenette looks duly impressed.  "A statue, eh?  Interesting.  We should learn more about that.  I'm curious.  It's my humble opinion that when you get some folks significantly richer than those around them, that there is, once in a very great while, a good reason for it.  But usually, it's just because the people around them have forgotten they're equal.  That just maybe, somebody like our friend Anora needs a dinner perhaps a bit more than somebody like that needs another pair of boots."

She lets her eyes drop, watching Kerric's father round the corner and out of sight.  "Actually, the cost of those boots would've feed her family for a week, I'll bet."

Opluriko couldn't help a flash of glee spread across her face at having caught the bag with her tail, even when she could imagine the sound of shattering goods if she hadn't, but Anje's reproachment brings her back to reality. "Sorry..." she repeated again.

But when she was released as Anje hobbled away, she just turned rather than offering to help. Her excitement now a bit tempered, she picked back up at a jog instead of at a full-tilt run. When they reached the river, she picked a point she knew was clear, and dove in, swimming across.

Yona nods, thoughtfully, "It doesn't seem likely that he would just give Anora's family money for food, instead of using it to buy new boots for himself.  He is worried about how nice he looks, not about how full anybody else's belly is."

And there is a brief moment which Yona would have referred to as an epiphany, if only she knew the meaning of that word...

"Perhaps somebody could find a way to turn his boots into food, or money for food, and see that Anora's family, or another family like them, got at least some of it."

And there it was - the realisation that theft doesn't always have to be entirely selfish.  Followed swiftly by the realisation that she quite likes Anora who, after all, has never used Yona's limp or the difference in their heights as an excuse to bully her.  Perhaps I could do something to help my friend?

Secretly, of course.

"You could teach me how to do this?"

In reply to Tralistaire Ten-Tails (msg # 61):

Shard nods watching and listening sensing the comments were more for Anora than himself, he simply nods and grunts having a few thoughts about entertainment and illusions, but choose to keep the thoughts just that and didn't speak them aloud.

"Every ship must set sail from a harbor to launch on its journey.  What harbor will you have us sail from?  Where do we begin?"

Anora listened intently to everything that was being said, the smile from Tralistaire being briefly reflected with a insecure twitch of her cheeks and the corners of her mouth.  Then her gaze wandered down to the coin and the hand, with but brief flashes of her gaze flitting up to meet his.

The previously infinitesimal smile returned as the content of hand altered and changed and then, for but a moment shifted between surprised humility and joy, as the hand was offered to her.  Even as she timidly reached out her own hand her face flushed visibly even through the seemingly ever-present dirt.  Upon taking his hand she gently shook it and performed half a curtsey simultaneously.  The look on her face that for a moment turned to Shard suggested she greeted him as well.

In her mind something stirred, so deep it had yet to form into a concrete thought her mind could recognise.  A blend of promise and self-worth that sent a shiver up through her subconscious, ending up as a glimmer of hope in her eyes.  Consciously she somehow knew that even if she did not move beyond the here and now, she had gained something, something that would for ever alter her life for the better.

In reply to Flechette (msg # 58):

"Fleeing has never been part of my nature" Ariadne said defiantly.
A second or two passed in silence before she continued in a matter-of-factly manner.
"It's called a tactical retreat... Or re-deploying sources elsewhere... Or attacking in a different direction..."
Ariadne's self secure voice trailed off as she gradually became more and more distracted by her own speech.
"But in the current situation I think negotiations is the best option."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:00, Thu 28 Nov 2013.

In reply to Kira (msg # 59):

"I told him that you're not teaching magic," Peck answers, leading Kira south and west, rounding the Pavilion.

"You're not, are you ?" the young smith blurts out as a sudden worry on the score floods over him, and he turns to her with concern at what response he might get.

"I said it was a ... 'different way of looking at things', that's all.  Complementing honest craft, not replacing it.  Not a shortcut."

Llewendan dives in smoothly after Opluriko.  He's a strong swimmer, and soon, the two are across.  Climbing out, he gives a quick shake to his head and brushes his wet hair back a little.  He seems to skip straight past `bedraggled' and directly on to `glistening'.

"Now, then," he says.  "Squirrels?"

Jenette looks up at Yona and smiles.  "I can.  Something like that, at any rate.  This is a small community; no chance of turning his boots into food for anyone, I'm afraid, because too many people would recognize his boots.  But his money, before it becomes boots, could..."  She nods her head back towards the open doorway.  "Like she was saying when we left.  It can turn into anything, if you just catch it young and nurture it right."  She looks back out to the town, watching more people pass by.  "Now, I've got to say - I like your home, but it seems to me it's got quite the gap for its size.  Fixing that..."  She shakes her head, thoughtfully.

"That's a high goal to set, full of hard lessons for people who won't want to learn them, but it's a worthy one."

Tralistaire smiles as Anora takes his hand, and bobs down in a bow to return her curtsey, likewise angling himself to include Shard.  Shard's question, though, recieves a blink, his tail twitching.  "Er," he says, with a glance over at Calisaren.  Looking back at Shard, he says, "We'd already begun.  I was lecturing.  Could you not tell?"  He reaches up, scratching absently at his crest.  "That's odd, usually I hear I do it too much.  But no, no, you're quite right, ours is a hands-on Discipline.  Tell me, then, with which of the five do you think you'd prefer to begin?"

Flechette actually smiles, turning briefly to look back, gesturing towards Ariadne.  But she quickly sees that nobody else is particularly paying attention to their corner at the moment, and, with a small shrug, turns back.  "I knew there was something about you.  Too many who follow my Discipline feel helpless without an actual sword in their hands.  I'll grant you - Swordmaster; it's in the Name.  But we're truly weapon masters.  And everything can be a weapon.  Axes and flails, clearly.  Sticks and stones, of course.  Elbows and feet, when needed."  She grins, and gives a small shake of her head, tossing her hair back.  "Words and smiles, the way we walk and the way we breathe.  A properly trained Swordmaster is never unarmed."

"But all the same - the first thing we need to do is get you a weapon of your own.  Your parents going to be a problem with that?"

Kira stops in the street, looking Peck in the eyes, and pauses a moment to consider her answer.  "Yes, and no, and it is too important to leave at either.  Yes; there is magic in what I do.  There's no getting around that.  Much as your father stands on the shoulders of his master, who stands on the shoulders of his - I am part of a weaving of Weaponmasters through time, all learning from each other's mistakes, sharing tricks and techniques and tales, and it is more than memory.  When I swing my hammer, a thousand who came before me, and a thousand who stand beside me, are there."

"But, a shortcut?  The easy path?  Can I wave my hands over a blade, mumble a bit, and hand it back sharp enough to slay a Dragon?  No.  Can I teach you to bend all twenty two thousand rings for a chain shirt in a day?"  She just snorts.  "Our magic is accepting iron into our hearts.  And I can't teach you that - either you will, or you won't, and ultimately, that is up to neither me nor your father."

Anora noted how different it felt to shake this hand compared to what few she had shook before.  Not many had ever offered her a hand, except the back of it.  Indeed, not many had ever offered her much of anything beyond either pointed dismissal or an indifferent shove to get her out of the way.

The differently coloured eyes wandered between Tralistaire and Shard as she chewed down lightly on her lip.  The question surely was aimed at Shard, she believed, and so she held her tongue.

Her attention briefly flittered around the room, her mind wondering what was being said, but soon they both returned to the two near her.  She was indeed in the midst of something that would be talked about for years.  It humbled her and sent a shiver through her even as her cheeks flushed under the dirt.

In reply to Tralistaire Ten-Tails (msg # 71):

Shard nods and rubs his beard thinking, "So, you are going to teach me the ways of the fire, water, air, earth and wood known as Elementalism and Anora illusion both at the same time?"  The dwarf had his doubts but he did want to learn this new magic, for he had heard the stories but he also knew that trying to work two projects at once would mean it would take longer for them both to learn.

He heaves a sigh and nods, "Very well.  I figured you were teaching with words, but I'm a more hands on learner."  Holding up his callused hands, "I'm sure you've figured that out though."

"I am listening, please continue.  I will be as the stone, patient and enduring.  Not like water, quick to evaporate and diminish under duress."

In reply to Flechette (msg # 72):

"Not as long as I don't use it at the dinner table...
Or was it inside the house? I'm getting confused now... In either case; as long as I know when and where my parents will accept it...
Well as long as I don't get too much dirty laundry out of it. Mother is already complaining I only have two dresses without patches on them now. No need to start a fight I can't possibly win."

Oplurik climbed out as well. S/he didn't bother shaking, the water sliding easily off her scales. But s/he had never seen someone not T'skrang look so good immediately after getting out of the water. S/he did take a moment for a long, maybe even admiring, second look at the elf upon noticing this.

But his words broke her from whatever thoughts were running through her head. "Yes! Squirrels!" She started again at a jog, following the fence around the horse pasture, but broke into a faster splint as she came close to a gnarled old oak tree, leaping up to catch one of the lowest of the branches. It was high for a first branch, but was up that high, the rest was relatively easy. She pulled herself up another level, her tail gently wrapping around part of the trunk for balance. She didn't have any extra food at the moment, but she had fed the squirrels that lived in the upper branches enough times that she hoped that they would still come to her, as they often did when she brought some snacks for them. She pointed up for Llewendan, "There's two nests of squirrels up in the tree."

"I see what you mean about the boots.  Too recognisable.  Money is more anonymous.  Harder for a person to prove that it used to be his because it all looks the same."

As for the rest... "I want to learn.  When can we start?" Yona answers, almost too eagerly, then tempers her enthusiasm, "That is, I want to learn, but even if I can't learn to fix the gap completely, that's no excuse for not trying, is it?  And I might still be able to make it smaller."

She watches as the boots disappear from sight, "It's like my dad says - you should always try to patch a hole in the roof, because even if you only stop some of the rain getting in, that's a bit less to mop up off the floor.  And at least it's better now than what it was when it was worse than what it is."  Somehow, now that she says it aloud, it sounds a lot less wise...

Peck's feet fail him, and he is glad enough when Kira stops, though scarcely aware of aught but her words.

Magic ... dread and longing war within him.

"I am indeed glad that I had no inkling before I spoke with my father," he blurts out, brutally honest.

His lips tighten and his head dips abruptly in a nod of acquiescence. "Though if I'd dared admit it to myself, as much would have been apparent ..."

... a moment more.  "Aye." that acceptance a strange mixture of resignation and eagerness. "The need drives me.  I'll not say damn the consequences, but truth be told, I'd risk much to gain even that little you have been able to show me ... that I have been able to see."

His feet suddenly work again.  "Though I'm glad you'll be there when father sees ... better you be there on hand to explain it than my feeble explanations !"

Tralistaire grins.  "Funny thing about water," he muses, looking at Anora.  "Even when it disappears, it doesn't really go away."  Turning back to Shard, he ducks his head briefly.  "You know that, of course, and I'm only teasing.  Hands on, then, and," he nods again to Anora, "Then again, hands off.  It's an approach I think I can manage."

He takes a deep breath, and gives his head a quick shake.  Then he takes a handful of pebbles out of a pouch, and holds them flat on his palm.  "These.  Rocks, yes.  Dust in an enemy's eyes, perhaps; grit in a clock's works.  Or, alternately, the filler in a stone wall, shouldering the weight of stones far larger than themselves.  A pebble, it is said, can change the course of a raging river... and there is truth to that saying, but it's a subtle one."

"In the hands of an Illusionist, they are most commonly used for this."  He turns his other hand up, and reveals a glowing sphere of... light.  He closes his fist for a moment, and simply has a closed hand inside the sphere.  Then he opens his hand, and rops one of the pebbles into it.  He then tosses it up, and the light bobs up with it.  When he catches it, closing his hand around it, and this time, the light vanishes, save for what peeks out from between his fingers.

"In the hands of an Elementalist..."  He lifts his other hand, then, and suddenly flicks it towards the wall.  The remaining pebbles fling out, but rather than scattering, they cling together, almost immediately taking on a dart-like shape, and then changing from simple stone to quartz-like rock.  Three crystalline darts peg into the wall with a single thud... and then, a moment later, vanish, a handful of pebbles clattering to the floor.  "They are a trademark weapon.  Indeed," he grins at Anora, "One need hardly be an Elementalist to make use of them - a wizardly seeming sort, knowingly hefting a handful of dirt, will often back away simple threats.  Although," he allows, "Probably not here, as it seems even these well known magics are no longer expected."  Returning his attention to Shard, he continues, "It's a simple transformation - Earth to Earth - and momentary, as you see, but a true change."

Flechette laughs.  "Oh, a dress torn in the right places can be a weapon, too," she says, promptly.  "Now then," she turns and starts towards the doorway, "I suppose our own Peck's forge would be the place to go?  If you'll lead the way, perhaps we can make Kira's day a bit easier, too.  Or more difficult.  I haven't decided yet."

Opluriko bounds up and hauls herself into the tree, making it look suitably casual, and manages to shake the tree little enough that only a pair of birds flutter off.  Llewendan nods when she points.  "I see one," he confirms, but waits on the ground, head tilted back, looking up.

Opluriko stills herself, and waits, hoping the squirrels will remember her from times past.  Llewendan, too, goes quiet.  Moments turn into minutes, but then she feels... something.  One of the squirrels comes around the trunk, having climbed down to almost eye-level with her on the other side, but she's not startled.  As she looks into its eyes, it climbs forward, and then onto the branch she's holding onto, tilting its head  curiously.

Jeanette blinks, her eyes shifting several times as she sorts that out.  "Um, right, that's... oh!  Right, exactly," she confirms, as the grammar sorts itself out.  "And for a Thief.. wanting is a very good beginning already."

"I just got here.  Where would you start?"

Kira shrugs, picking up her pace to keep up with Peck.  "I don't know that it'll look so different, really, and I hope you'll forgive me if I don't immediately offer all of that up for your father's ears... but I'll answer honestly any questions he asks," she promises.  She grins, then, and claps Peck on the shoulder.  "And I'm glad you'll not say that.  Consequences should be weighed.  If you cast them aside this soon, I'd be very much afraid the risks weren't fair to ask of you - but so long as you keep your judgment, I'm glad to trust in it."

In reply to Flechette (msg # 81):

"If she's with Peck her day can't get any more difficult...
But then I'd certainly be willing to try.

Oh... If we're going that way can we stop by Mort the leatherworker?
Father told me to look for a new whip and some leather straps."

In reply to Tralistaire Ten-Tails (msg # 80):

Shard watching, was in awe of the magic.  Frowning he studied the T'skrang intently, "But how did you summon the ... magic to make the rock into the dart?  I've picked up dirt and rocks and thrown them before but never had that happen."

Scooping up a bit of dirt and pebbles he holds him in his hand, "How do you gather the magic to focus it into what you will, and isn't the taint of the scourge something to be feared?  I've heard stories that were the horrors walk, the taint is left upon the land much like a snail and the trail it leaves behind."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:30, Thu 09 Jan 2014.

Opluriko was a bit surprised that Llewendan didn't join her in the tree, but didn't protest his decision. S/he then focused on the squirrel. After all, that is why they had come here. S/he could be a patient waiter, if s/he saw the point in waiting, and so let her breathing calm from the run and swim.

When one came, a grin spread across her lips. As their eyes meet, s/he feels... somehow a deeper connection than s/he has ever felt with a squirrel before. S/he couldn't have described it in words, but words were often so inaccurate, imprecise... "Llewendan?" s/he asked quietly, though her eyes still met the squirrel's.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:02, Sat 11 Jan 2014.

The blacksmith's son slows to allow Kira to catch up with him, though her words have no trouble reaching his ears.  Self-consciously he adjusts his pace to match her stride, the action made more awkward as he analyses her response and almost trips himself up.

The hand on his shoulder finally convinces him that the Half-Orc finds some merit in his response, and he nods his head, chin bobbing up and down.  Though he has promised to weigh an decision, still he feels he has committed to something ... and that is both thrilling and terrifying.

"I guess Marden taught me that much," Peck ventures, wanting Kira to know that he respects his father - both the smith's skill, however mundane its origins, and the man himself.

Yona thinks for a few heartbeats, licking her lips as ideas chase each other through her mind.  Then, "I'd follow him to see where he's going.  I know where he lives, but if I know where he's going then I know how long it's likely to be before he gets home.  If he's going to see the mayor they'll talk for a long time - they always do."

"Truth be told, the mayor doesn't get a chance to say much - I've seen them together in the market.  Oh, and he talks a lot to other dwarves too."

A nervous smile follows, and the girl licks her lips again.

"After that I'd maybe take the long way home.  Just because it's a nice day and my leg isn't hurting too much, and because if I do that then I can make sure I pass his house on the way.  Maybe stop for a rest nearby.  There's a good place for sitting in the sun."

At the mention of water Anora feels a bit of confusion setting in.  Why did he look at her?  Was it just a glance or was it something more?  The fact that she tends to try to stay from sight, if possible?  Self-awareness sent a slight blush to her cheeks.

Then the slight blush grew deeper as the hands on-off comment was made, and two thoughts fought in her mind.  The idea of someone, anyone, touching her and the notion that he would not want to do it, hence the comment.

At the same time she knew she was being silly and over-thinking and overreacting - how often has she not been told that - and yet, that poor lone logical notions was swept away without mercy by the torrent of the other two emotions as they fought each other for domination.

So occupied is she with her internal struggle that she barely register the demonstration beyond a deep sense of awe.  Surely they cannot expect her, a no one of nobody, to ever do something similar.

Painfully aware of her flustered face she bends her head forward to, in her own clumsy way, use her hair to provide an illusionary shield for her blush, although blushing usually makes her blush deeper still, as it betrays her insecurity so blatantly.

Flechette barks a laugh at Ariadne's comment.  "Sounds like a challenge," she replies, with a grin.  "But sure, let's get you a whip.  I don't suppose I really have anywhere better to be.  Lead on."

"Mm-hm?" Llewendan replies, quietly.  "I think it likes you."  His voice is soft, quiet without having to be a whisper.  "You feed them sometimes?" he guesses.

The squirrel doesn't come closer, but still doesn't run away, watching Opluriko curiously.

Kira and Peck reach the Forge, and find Marden, unsurprisingly, at work.  He glances up as they approach, but doesn't pause in his hammering, the steady clang ringing out in a regular, comforting rhythm.  After a couple of minutes, he stops and sets the piece aside -- Peck recognizes it, one of a dozen pieces being shaped to reenforce the fencing along the T'skrang ranch.

"Ah, Peck," he calls over, stepping out.  "Glad you could make it today."  He gives Peck a mildly stern look, clearly having hoped the boy would be back a bit earlier after yesterday's shenanigans, but his eyes shift quickly to Kira, and, after a quick wipe on his apron, he offers a hand politely.  "And you must be Kira.  The boy told me he'd be asking you by.  Hear tell you could teach me a thing or two about Smithing?"  His tone stays firmly polite, but there's an unmistakable steel in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kira, though, just smiles back and takes the hand, giving him a firm shake.  "Aye," she agrees, "And you, me.  Been Smithing fifteen years, and I've never seen a cold forged twist as neat as you just put on that post.  If it's not a family secret, maybe you could show me how it's done and we can help get the rest of those matching?" she asks.

Jenette lifts an eyebrow, tilting her head.  "You think about this sort of thing a lot?" she asks, curiously.  "That's... an almost disturbingly good start for a first try.  Most I've known - including me - jump straight to thinking about how to get in and where to get the good stuff."  She grins.  "If I could take us back a step, though, your friend Peck was giving us a bit of a worried look on his way out... like he thinks I'm taking you down the wrong path.  And that," she shrugs, "Got me thinking, I guess.  A lot of Thieves work alone.  Think alone.  Call themselves `Solitaries'.  It's actually a pretty popular view in our line of work."  She pauses a moment, eyes narrowing briefly.  "Maybe ironically so," she laughs.

"But I've always found them a little bit creepy, to be honest.  There's nothing about my philosophy that says I can't have friends, too.  But let's say we did this - crept into the windbag's home and made off with some coin he has to spare, passed some of it on to some people who could use it and kept a share because, well, if they could afford to pay us for our services, we'd have passed it on to someone else.  What do you suppose your friends'll think about it?  And, good or bad, how do you feel about that?"

Anora ducks her head down, letting a cascading curtain of hair cover her face as she sorts through a torrent of thoughts and feelings.  Then Tralistaire reaches over, with one finger, and brushes the hair lightly aside, tucking it gently back behind an ear.  She finds that he has leaned forward slightly, looking into her eyes.  "Some disguises reveal more than they hide," he says, softly.  "And the one thing we may never hide from, is ourselves."

He shifts back a little bit, withdrawing from her personal space, and tosses a hand lightly.  "I have other pithy sayings, of course, but those two seemed the most applicable at the moment."

And that gives Yona pause for thought.  She doesn't think about this sort of thing very much at all, at least not on this scale.  It had just seemed like the right way to think about it.

Like when she found that rusted old lock in the mud by the river last year.  She knew straight away that if she just poked around in it then something would break and she'd never learn how it worked.  So she had spent some time carefully learning which parts would still move, and how far.  Questioning it.  Getting a feel for it.

This feels similar.  Think of the dwarf's house as a lock.  A big, fancy lock.  She needs to know what she can possibly get away with before she starts trying to get away with it.

"My friends?" she ponders as she looks in the direction Peck had gone, "I think that what they'd think would depend on the why of what I was doing.  How I'd feel about it would depend on what they think.  But I hope that I'm not stupid enough to do something that would make them hate me.  Or, at any rate, not hate me so much that it couldn't be fixed."

"Yes, sometimes," Opluriko replied simply, though her eyes remain upon the squirrel.

"Sounds good.
There is something enticing about leather.
Let's go. The two aren't that far apart.
Have you got a good impression of town so far?"

Ariadne and Flechette chit-chatted as they walked toward the blacksmith.

Peck lowers his head at Marden's rebuke, matter not that it was mild, but looks up again quickly enough, and with no little trepidation as his father ... not so much challenges Kira, but leaves the half-orc in no doubt that he is wary of her intentions.

But Kira's pleasant, almost concilatory response brings an audible sigh of relief from the young smith.  A moment of doubt as to whether Kira might be simply be trying to flatter his father passes swiftly - the work was good, no doubt of it, and better than he himself could manage, and fashioned with pride if not with heart and soul.

That exhalation of breath also stirs Peck into movement.  As Marden has just reminded him, there's work to be done.  Taking his thick apron from it's peg, he quickly ties the strings, then sets to the chores, filling up the water bucket and topping up the fuel stores, before taking up the stiff wire brush and setting to work on that fence post, looking out for burrs and sharp edges where the metal file will be needed.

When Tralistaire puts her hair behind her ear Anora is amazed that is does not catch fire, because her ears must be hot enough to melt metal, or so it feels to her.

She listens to what he says, being rather unable to do much else since she seem to have misplaced her tongue.  When he withdraws she cannot help but smile a little, and it breaks into a short-lived giggle at he comment about pithy sayings.

Keeping her lips tightly together she nevertheless looks at him with gratitude, because somehow she feels better now despite fearing her face might melt.  But even so the smile rules her cheeks and eyes alike.

Eventually, or so it feels to her at least, she inhales deeply through her nose.

"Thanks."

For what she is grateful she is not sure.  Perhaps for the meaning of his words, perhaps for not laughing, or touching her.  Or maybe something else.  Sometimes she confuses herself.

So, one way or another, you find yourself back at the Schoolhouse; the Strangers have left, but all of you are there.

Opluriko finds Llewendan's method of teaching very odd. She tries to be subtle about it, but questions him, trying to learn from him even while showing him her normal, suddenly far less interesting, chores. Yes, she's use to learning by experiencing, but not learning by teaching with a few hints thrown in. Having no idea how long the strangers will be here, she wants to learn more quickly, or at least understand what she might be learning. She does her best, though, not to be impatient, which was not exactly one of her strengths.

Still, at least it is not boring.

With her morning chores, at least, done, she goes along with Llewendan's suggestion, heading to the schoolhouse. She looks around at the others, "How long do you think they'll be here?"

Peck is weary but exhilarated ... and grateful that Marden unbends enough that he is, if not encouraged to continue the association with Kira, then at least somewhat accepting of it ... for the moment anyway.

But the young smith keeps his thoughts to himself as he finishes up, banking down the forge for the night, refilling the water buckets from the nearby Bend, cleaning the tools, and all the other matters that needs be seen to.

That done, and himself cleaned up to boot, Peck hurries across town to the schoolhouse.

Opluriko's question is somewhat discomforting - that these wonderful strangers who are just starting to share their secrets might not stay for long is not a happy prospect, and he shakes his head glumly at the T'skrang.  "Don't know."

"Probably some weeks... Maybe a month"
Ariadne uncoiled and coiled the whip repeatedly as she tried to get a better feel of it.
The basket of apples stood on the floor next to the door for whomever wanted one.

Opluriko took an apple from the basket and bit into it, chewing it thoughtfully as she tried to frame a question in her mind. "So what happens to us when they leave?"

"I don't know." Yona says, not taking an apple, "I don't know if we'll be able to go back to the way we were."

She finds a place to sit, and thinks for a few moments.

"I already feel as though I'm not the same as I was - I'm seeing things a bit differently now.  And too many people know we were with the strangers today.  They, like as not, don't think we're the same either."

"Maybe we'll be expected to leave with them?"

Peck pauses at Yona's last comment, putting the apple in his hand back in the basket. "Leave with them ?"  The young smith looks troubled.

"Maybe... But is that so bad?
Sure I'd like to grow old and have children here when I get old...
You know. Like, real old. 23 or something.
But wouldn't it be fun to travel a bit? See the world? See if the bees are different somewhere else? To go somewhere where they also have Pear-crumble? And maybe some dresses that can survive a climb into the Silverstone family's appletree without tearing when we go scrumping.
It's not like I like spending half my time mending the ones I do have...
Besides..."

Ariadne uncoiled her whip and positioned to strike again, but instead of letting the whip crack she tried coiling it up with a flick of the wrist like Flechette had.
She didn't even come close to succeeding. Ariadne sighed thoughtfully.

Waking early, Shard got his chores down as expected, the teachings he had been learning whipping through his mind trying to come to grips with what he had learned.  There was so much more to learn, to practice and master and at times it seemed overwhelming however the promise, the lure of learning how to use magic was enough to drive him to almost any extreme.

Hurrying to the school house the Dwarf nods to those gathered and takes his seat looking about hoping he was not late.  Finding the strangers still absent he heaved a sigh of relief.

Not one to usually have her head in the cloud, Anora nevertheless found her training, for lack of a better word, fascinating.  As it ends she feels confused and uncertain what really occurred.  She waves farewell to Tralistaire and turns her gaze upwards again, towards the clouds above.  Did she really do that?

Lost in her own thoughts she barely notices the others even as they speak, until talk of leaving stirs her.  She would not mind leaving.  While it would be loss of income for her family it would also mean one less mouth to feed, and more space to sleep.  She doubts anyone would truly miss her.

"I hope we will leave."

A moment later she realises that she said it out loud and promptly tries to make herself smaller, hoping no one heard her.

The young blacksmith finds Anora's comment quite upsetting, though he does his best to hide his reaction.  She wants to leave ... I most certainly don't ... but if it came down to it, what would I do ?  Could I leave my family ?  Could I turn my back on ... whatever it is that Kira is trying to show me ?

Opluriko polished off the apple, thinking about things, looking around for everyone different reactions. But it sounded like the others all thought that they were already learning quite a bit - something she didn't really feel. To her, Llewendan seemed like he had a lot to teach, but didn't have any idea how to do it. She hoped it wasn't just that she wasn't listening properly. She knew that she could be impatient, and that her attention tended to wander in normal class teaching, but with him, she had felt engaged in the world around them. So surely it wasn't that she wasn't paying enough attention, was it?

"Oh come on Anora...
Wouldn't it be nice to return some day with loads of gold and some stories?
I bet your family would love to get the capital to start the first inn in the city...
And you Peck... What about opening up a real smithy? One that has weapons in them.
All the stuff we weren't allowed to play with same time last year?"
Ariadne swung her whip in a large horizontal bow in an attempt to strike the empty part of the wall. Failing to pay attention to her surroundings the whip happily entangled itself around the table leg instead of connecting with the wall.
Ariadne looked less than satisfied as she tugged on her end in an attempt to free it.

Peck looks startled at Ariadne's suggestion and mumbles something non-committal in response ... then leans back against the wall as his thoughts wander off down the path Anora and Ariadne have lead them.

Yona shakes her head at Ariadne's vision of a bright future where they return as wealthy heroes, to buy everything that their family needs.  "We've been seen with the strangers, going about the town.  That makes us different.  Nobody likes you if you're different."

They should all know that.  She does.  Knew it since she was old enough to stand up on her own feet, and promptly got knocked over by one of her cousin - Batran as she recalls.

"No mum" counted as different to some of her cousins, and being passed from family to family to family counted as different for the rest.  Being quiet and a bit of a loner was just the seasoning in the soup.

"If we go away, and come back again, nobody will be pleased to see us.  Might as well stay away."  A shrug, "No skin off my nose."  Linking her hands behind her knee, she lifts her bad leg and rests it on the stack of boards where she sits.

"Ari, that implies we would leave," Anora says quietly, having become the attention of too many others, in her own mind.

But of course her folks would like it, no doubt about that.  Whether returning would happen even baring not having died is another matter.  She sighs, quietly, and starts to pluck with her hair, once more partly hiding her face behind her forelock.

Her family, running an inn.  It would close after a week, no, a couple of days.  If they were lucky.  A giggling snort escapes her as her mind paints up the image for her.

It faded with Yona's words, however.  She knew already how it was to be on the outside.  Elsewhere she would not be that, she would merely be a stranger.  Unlike outsiders strangers can become part of something.  Under her breath words escaped her once more.

"I would never look back."

It is Yona's stark assessment of the situation that decides Peck.

"She's right," the young blacksmith says. "We do this ... we master these lessons that the Strangers are doing their best to teach us, and we'll not be able to stay here, will we or no, family or no."

He purses his lips in sympathy, nodding to Yona.  Their situations weren't too different, with parents gone, one or both ... but he'd been lucky enough to be accepted by a couple who loved him.  And he them, which only made it harder.

"If any of us can't do that ... then they need to walk away now, while they still have the chance."

Peck shakes his head, suddenly scared. "I don't think I can give up now.  Not after what Kira's shown me, matter not how little I truly understand it."

More terrifying yet.  How long would the Strangers stay in Karick's Bend ?  Weeks ?  Days ?

Opluriko raised a scaley eyebrow, surprised at the direction the conversation was taking. "I see no reason that we can't stay here, even if we are viewed differently than before."

"Aren't we always? I mean... I've been fighting Chaia for the best fruits around here ever since we first managed to get out of our parents sight, but...
I noticed how much easier the boys get distracted from their music ever since I started sprouting these..."
Ariadne pressed the full length of her thumb against her sternum to underline her figure.
"If that isn't enough I heard one of the boys tell Llewendan he would owe him if he steals our clothing the next time we jump in the river. One year ago they would rather pull my hair and grab my buns if I left them on the table.
And it's not like I'm the only one. Both Yona and Anora have their own admirers.
No matter what I think it's safe to say things are going to change around here regardless of whether we want them to or not. We might as well acknowledge it and get the best out of it...
Travel, make some gold on our own, meet some new people and get a dress that Chaia can't get her fingers on."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:31, Fri 18 July 2014.

"Huh!  First I've heard of it!  I don't fit... won't fit... so who's going to be interested in me?"

Yona glares at Ariadne, "I'm nearly sixteen, but I look like I'm twelve.  I'm too small, my clothes are all old, and my leg's no good.  Where are these admirers?"

"Oh come on Yona... It's not there's a lot of choices for us in Karricks' Bend and even if there was beauty isn't everything. Take our good friend Shard here...
Don't you think he would rather be with someone intelligent over someone like me that can't sit still for five minutes?"
Ariadne cracked her whip once into thin air as sort of punctuating her point. Then looked at with a satisfied grin.
"Besides, Auntie Em says there are no ugly people. Just poor makeup."

If the suggestion of leaving town was an uncomfortable one for Peck, then the direction of Ariadne and Yona's discussion is so much more so.

Strange that Ariadne should mention Chaia ... she and Peck had been close when young, before things got complicated, and even now ... well, if there was one girl in Karick's Bend, then it would be her, though perhaps she'd changed rather too much ...

But Yona ... Peck's surprise at her outburst is that of a big brother looking out for his little sister, and that's the way he's always thought of her ...

"I had the strangest dream ..." the young blacksmith begins as it comes flooding back to him, face colouring nicely as he realises how that must sound on the back of the girls' conversation.  "Began in a schoolroom, underground," he hurries on.  "I was a merchant's son.  Yona was there ... my sister ... in fact most of you were there.  Then there was some sort of uproar ?  And we were attacked."

"By the townsfolk ?" he struggles to recall the fleeting dream-memory, disturbed at how it mirrors the current conversation.

"I... I had the same dream!" Yona exclaims, glad of the change of subject.  "We were there, but we weren't us.  We were different.  That is, everybody looked and acted the same, but the memories were different.  And I didn't need a stick to walk."

In reply to Ariadne (msg # 121):

Shard, pondering the lessons taught by his mentor half listened to what the others talked about, not really concerned about the future figuring if the group or members failed to understand the lessons then the future would be different.  'Why worry something that hasn't come to fruit yet.' he thought to himself before returning back to the reflection of the lessons.

Glancing at Ariadne he frowns, girls were still a mystery to him and he hadn't given much thought about dating much less marriage.  He took another look at the young woman and shrugs, letting Ariadne at least know that he was listening to the group.

At mention of dreams, Shard had to really think about what he had dreamed of last night and ... really couldn't even remember.  Listening to the others, he takes in what they had to say.

Ariadne once again coiled her whip and laid it under the basket with apples before taking one and trying to listen to what Yona and Peck were going to say about their dream.
Apple in hand and a face that at least looked interested.

"Different," Peck nods eagerly, fascinated and more than a little scared that Yona shared that dream.  "I was not really me," cheeks colour again as he recalls the less than pleasant way he addressed his Dwarven friend.

"Kerric was there, and Opluriko," he looks towards the T'skrang, wonderingly, "and Alia ... and Chaia and Laethwyr."

"School, we were in a schoolroom ..." and that gets a furrowing of the brow as he draws the obvious parallel, though at least the place they are now is in the light, " ... then something happened."

"I remember.  We were trying to keep people out.  It was dark, and they were acting strange." Yona's voice is quiet and low, as she recalls more details, "As if they'd gone mad.  And whatever caused it was away from us at first, on all sides, and then it got closer as the people did.  Like they were carrying it towards us."

"Hammering at the door," Peck nods, shaking his head, more than uncomfortable in the light of their earlier discussion.  "At the time it was just ... terrifying, least when I woke.  Now ... it has the feel of a sending."

""Sending"... What do you mean "Sending"?"
Ariadne cocked her head and gave Peck a wondrous look.
"Like they were sent to you by the Passions?"
Ariadne polished her apple absentmindedly in her dress while keeping her eyes on Peck.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:16, Mon 28 July 2014.

Shard gave a grunt as way of letting Peck know he heard what had been said.  Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, he gave the two's dream a quick mulling over.  "Could be some sort of foretelling or vision of a prophecy that may take place." he offered really not sure.  "Teachers may know more.  Perhaps its just the magic we are learning waking up some hidden talents ya'll have."

"Felt like just a dream at the time," Peck mumbles, looking to Yona to see her reaction to Ariadne and Shard's suggestion.  "Unpleasant certainly, and in the cold light of day it does seem a reflection of what might happen if things go bad."

"My father is ... uncertain about what Kira was showing me, and he has always been fair and open-minded."  The young man tries to close his ears to the Dwarf's mention of magic.

A soft breeze takes advantage of its relatively unfinished nature to brush through the schoolhouse.

"I... don't think it did feel like a dream.  It felt real to me.  Like... " Yona stops, staring down at her hands, as if she could find an answer to this new mystery there.  "It felt real.  Scarier than any dream would be.  I could do things that I never learned how to do.  Things that I'd say are impossible, but they weren't impossible in the dream."

She looks around the room, at the faces of her friends.

"And they didn't help at all.  We were still trapped, and the townsfolk came."

Opluriko hadn't really wanted to add her voice to the dream, but with the continued talking, felt that maybe she should. "I remember it to. I thought if I could get around them, through them, maybe I could see what had riled everyone up. But the crowd, they just kept attacking...

That's not a dream I care to spend a lot of time remembering."

Peck's brows furrow at Ariadne's mention of the Passions, though he swiftly turns back to the conversation, shaking his head in agreement with Opluriko.  "Not at all pleasant," he replies, shuddering at the memory, despite the warmth of the patch of sunlight he's in.

"As Yona says, too real for one thing.  And less comforting that we all dreamed the same thing.  I've not heard of that before ..."

"How do you remember what you dreamt?  I never do."

Anora speaks quietly as she ransacks her mind.  She is not even sure she ever had dreamt, since she never had recalled a single one.

"Sometimes when I dream I find out I'm dreaming.
I love when that happens. Then I can fly and all kinds of everything.
It's quite handy when I'm dueling with Quendaala and she thinks she can get away."
Ariadne took a crunchy bite off her apple followed by a slurping sound as the juice started cascading down her chin.
"Hng! Juicy!"
Before she wiped her face clean with her hand before it dug into her apron and reemerged with a ragged piece of cloth resembling something that was once a napkin.

Anora's question confuses Yona for a moment.  Then, "I don't know.  I dream, I wake up, and I remember what I dreamed.  At least for a little while."

She shrugs, and lays back on the boards, staring at the sky through a hole in the ceiling which somebody needs to cover up before the next time it rains.  "If I don't try to remember the dream straight away, it fades away quickly.  Unless it's something that isn't nice.  Those dreams hang about for ages, no matter how I try to not think of them."

Ariadne's comment is interesting, "I don't know if I've ever had a dream where I knew I was dreaming, and changed the story."

"Ha!  There's a cloud that looks like old Marawel!"

"Well, I... don't remember dreams..."

A feeble protest, barely worthy of the label.

At the mention of a cloud Anora looks up and is quick to point out, "I had nothing to do with that.  Um, I mean, how could I?  That is to say, I...  Never mind."

Silence, always a good option.

Shard listened to the others, but didn't put much in store by dreams.  Like Anora, he usually didn't remember much of his dreams.  They were fragmented at best and usually made little sense or logic.  Flying dogs, hammers that talked, fires that couldn't go out no matter how much dirt or water you threw at it, Spiders with crossbows that were invading the village and many other odd dreams that in Shard's opinion were simply bad dreams, not omens or fortellings of things to come.

Rather than be rude and say as much, Shard closed his eyes and attempted to meditate and review what the instructor had said yesterday to learn the lesson better.

"I don't dream much ... or if I do then I suppose I just rarely remember my dreams," Peck adds.  "Marden says if you have time to dream then you're not working hard enough !" he grins.

"Last night, though ... definitely more nightmare than dream," the young smith agrees with Yona, "though it felt like my choices were affecting what was happening to me," he shrugs to Ariadne.

"Lunchtime" stretches on for longer than simply lunch might reasonably take, even if one assumes the Mayor is trying to impress the Strangers with a fancy, multi-course sort of luncheon.  Nevertheless, your perseverance (or in some cases, perhaps it's laziness, as staying in the Schoolhouse is certainly easier than going home to find out if there are chores available) pays off, and after a few hours, Tralistaire's voice carries through the doorway.  "..nk it's worth remaining wary, nevertheless.  If there is one thing reliable about a Horror, it is their talent for deception."

This is followed by a sound of agreement; Kira's voice.

Then Calisaren's, from above you, "Our protegès are still here!"  She's standing, of course, on the edge of the wall, waving down through the open ceiling.  Moments later, the others - Flechette in front - start coming in through the doorway, save Jenette, who, yet again, pulls herself up over the wall and sits, legs dangling, a few feet from Calisaren.

Yona, half dozing, comes fully awake as the strangers reappear.  She sits up, turning to dangle her legs over the edge of the boards where she rests.  But she says nothing... Tralistaire had been talking, of course, just before they entered, and Yona doesn't much like the subject matter.  It makes her feel nervous.

Stifling a yawn, she looks for Jenette.  Not surprisingly, the woman does not simply walk in through the door.  Yona smiles at a sudden thought which occurs to her, Of course she doesn't.  Doors are for ordinary people.

Ariadne quickly sat up straight and folded her hands neatly on the table as her mentors strode in the door. Once she saw her chance for it she leaned over and asked Peck "What's a Horror?" from the corner of her mouth.

Opluriko was bored. She was the active type, and what she did was active, and sitting in a schoolhouse for half of the day was not her idea of... well, anything, really. She was only doing it because she really did want to continue to learn from Llewendan. "Thank goodness you are back. I was thinking I was going to go through another molt before you returned at this rate," she blurted out.

Wary.  Horror.  Deception.

A moment before, Peck had merely been torn between 'I ought to go; I want to stay', but the conversation that presages the return of the Strangers gives him an altogether different kind of uncomfortableness.  One that he is determined to address, though before he can say anything he finds Ariadne leaning towards him, and can't help but turn towards her ... and that's awkward again, though he couldn't say whether her question of him makes that better or worse.

"Horrors ?  I've heard of them, just tales though, creatures from elsewhere."  Killers, eaters of flesh ... not, that he won't say.  "They always bring woe."

"You know of Horrors ?" the young smith looks away, up to Tralistaire, his tone adding the unspoken 'you've seen them ?  "Is that why you've been so long with the Mayor ?  You bring warning ?"

Shard had started out by thinking about the masters training, but like Yona had fallen asleep at his desk.  Hearing someone enter, he jerks up quickly and looks about slightly embarrassed he had submitted to sleep.

Stretching he looks about, slightly perplexed as to the questions of horrors.

"I'm not sure I understand. Creature of woe from another place? Like Urdon's mind? or like when he throws his socks at us?"
Ariadne whispered to Peck

Her inner monologue was of course rather different.
"I know what Horror is. It's an emotion. Like mothers expression when Angua and Salachia (Ariadne's younger siblings) stole a bag of flour and ran around the house making 'Hogswatch', but a Horror? A creature that bring woe? Sounds too stupid to survive! Where's Chaya? I'm in a mood for a fight... No wait. Mum says girls don't fight. Hmmm... I'm in he mood for righteous retribution. Even if I have to start it. Maybe Flechette will teach me to duel like a lady when we're done with stabbing apples? I better listen what they have to say. Hopefully I can get to use some energy soon."

Ariadne did her best to stop her mind from continuing as she straightened her back and sat up in the attempt to be teachers pet... Or at least appear interested in listening rather than acting.

Horrors.

What an unpleasant turn this took all of a sudden.  The idea of such is unsettling enough that she does not wish to dwell deeper into that particular subject.  As always, trying hard to not think about something in particular usually has the exact opposite effect.

She attempts her best to blend with the wall which she is leaning up against with her back, sincerely hoping that it is not the next 'test', dealing with such... horrors.  For now she would merely observe and take note, practising the better part of survival; passing unnoticed.

Tralistaire pauses for a moment, his smile freezing, caught offguard by Peck's direct question.  "Ah, well, no, nothing so.. specific.  Indeed, the topic didn't come up at lunch, and..." he looks a bit chagrined, "Was not intended to come up here, either.  It's not really an ideal subject for such a pleasant afternoon," he suggests, waving a hand towards the sky, his sleeve trailing gently behind it.

"But yes, indeed," he hurries ahead, "We have confronted a number of Horrors in our days.  Standing before you are none other than Skel'cha'ach's Avengers!"  He draws himself up proudly, as does the Troll, Orm'gha.  The others, too, react to the name, if less noticeably; smiling, straightening slightly; Jenette brushes a strand of hair back.  "We have traveled together more than two years now, and in our time, together and apart, we have done a great deal of good."

"The Scaly Chachaha Avengers?
How come I have never heard of them? What kind of good?
Tell us one of your stories."

Shard, listening to his T'skrang master frowns, as usual, thinking of what the Elementalist had said.  "Who is Skel'cha'ach and why did he or she need to be avenged?" he asked carefully.  "What is this good you speak of?  Good for the group, good for Barsaive, good for your pocketbook?" he asks tapping his fingers against the desk.

Sliding off the boards to stand on the floor, Yona scowls and unhitches her skirt from a projecting splinter, then retrieves her stick.  This is all starting to sound less and less like a good thing.  First it was all we can teach you things, but now it's angling towards talk of danger and horrors unknown.  And the dream still lurks in the back of her mind, making her even more uneasy.

"I never heard of Skel'cha'ach either." she volunteers, "They never lived here, so you need to speak more plainly if you want us to know your meaning.  Start at the beginning... who was Skel'cha'ach?"

Uncertain as to why, Anora felt sort of embarrassed over the fact that she, like the others, had no idea what these names represented.  Not that she was at fault, unless it was merely gossip and not news, but even so she felt as if she had missed something.

Or perhaps Karick's Bend was indeed so backwater that it was embarrassing that way.  She was not certain.

"I'm uh, afraid I-I haven't heard of you.  I-I'm sorry."

Somewhat redundant what with the others sharing similar points, but she feels she ought to say something, however insignificant it may be, as well as apologise, although she was not sure what for.

Peck snorts. "Not as if Karick's Bend gets many visitors who might bring us such news," he notes.  "That's why your arrival caused such a stir.  Tales of long ago are the best we can manage."

"But like my friends, I too would know more of your adventures," he pleads with Tralistaire, eyes shining.

Tralistaire waves his arm again, though Anora's comment makes him smile.  "No, of course not - though our reputation does, I assure you, exist, one could hardly expect it to have spread to a place where neither we, nor, indeed, anyone else, has visited from afar.  Believe me, less isolated towns than this have," he bows his head modestly, "Somehow, overlooked us."

"Right now, I fear, I owe you less an explanation and more an apology; this conversation has quickly ranged beyond my intentions, and appears to be stirring up a good deal more discomfort than is needed.  Perhaps I can alleviate some of this by laying a few more of our cards down, as it were."  He looks to the others, briefly, pausing longest at Orm'gha.

"Skel'cha'ach," he pauses again, and Orm'gha gives a very slight nod, "Soulthinker Bloodsteel," Tralistaire finishes, "Was Orm'gha's younger brother.  His truly is a tale for another time, and not mine to tell, but I may say that he was not an Adept, but simply... young, even younger than yourselves."

Orm'gha's deeper voice interjects, "And then a Horror found him.  And now he is Not."

Tralistaire nods, waiting a moment to see if the Troll is going to continue, and then goes on himself.  "Indeed.  Orm'gha, rather than meekly accepting his loss, set out to avenge his brother; he found others who had been touched by the same Horror, and, in time, we Named ourselves Skel'cha'ach's Avengers, in his memory."

"There is," Calisaren interrupts briefly, "Power in Names."

Nodding, the T'skrang holds onto his thread.  "And there you have our purpose and beginning.  The end, I fear, is yet to be told; we hunt the creature still."  He sighs at that, looking down for a moment, and then shrugs.

"Well, we are nothing if not tenacious," he laughs, and Flechette rolls her eyes.  "And in the meantime, we have done good - a daring exploration here, a dashing rescue there.  Why--"  He breaks off as Jenette stands up suddenly, her head tilted a little to the side.

"We've got another visitor," Jenette says, with a chuckle, quickly hopping up to sit in one of the paneless windowsills along the north wall.  "Who might as well join us."

Listening to the explanation, Yona isn't altogether sure that she believes it.  A group that is actively hunting a Horror.  That's just ridiculous.

But then... why would anybody lie about something so unbelievable?

Jenette goes to look out of the window, and Yona directs her attention, and her questions, to Tralistaire.

"How long have you been searching for this thing?  And why did you come here to find it?  Do you think it's here, or has been here?"

Ariadne was confused.
She had a million questions. Her classmates knew this and just as she inhaled sharply to start her barrage of questions Yona took over with more sensible questions and Tralistaire pulled her short attentionspan to the window.
It was about time Ariadne did something. She had been sitting still for way too long.

From the other side of the window, a surprised looking young elven woman with long dark blue hair and wide violet-grey eyes, stared up at Jenette. "Uh... I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean to... the walls aren't quite finished and it's rather easy to hear outside," she stammered. "I'll... um... yes... come around..." she said, hurriedly gathering up her long grey skirts and carefully stepping around the carpentry supplies toward the more proper "front" of the school. She couldn't help but be a bit unnerved... did she hear right that they were talking about Horrors? Here? It was a good thing she had come, surely these other town children wouldn't have relayed any of this to her father.

All this talk of Horrors ... and then t their teachers' reactions to whatever lies outside and by the Dark you can be sure that Peck's gaze turns that way and quickly, until he hears Feydra's voice and he can release the breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Inviting her in too ... mirrors what they seem to be saying about there being no shortage of would-be Adepts in the town, for all that everyone has nigh on forgotten what that means.  And underlines that the calling isn't for everyone, matter not their potential.  Kerric for one, though more like the Dwarf is absent because his father forbid him, while Opluriko came, but the dream and all the talk of leaving ... well, he sees the doubt in the T'skrang's eyes now.

"She's the mayor's daughter," the young smith blurts out, meant half as introduction and half as warning for belike every word Feydra hears will go straight to Marawel's ears.

Tralistaire gives Feydra a friendly smile.  "Ah, Feydra, yes?  Your father mentioned you.  It's a pleasure to meet you.  I," he draws in a breath, and is promptly interrupted by Kira.

"Is Tralistaire," she says.  "I'm Kira, that's Calisaren, Flechette, Orm'gha, and Jenette."

Deflating slightly, Tralistaire gives her a mock hurt look.  "Indeed, a most... efficient introduction.  Please, be welcome.  Now, Yona, the answer to your question is simple, and I hope reassuring: We didn't."

Flechette chuckles.  "Remember how you'd never heard of us?" she interjects.  "We'd never heard of you, either."

Tralistaire shrugs.  "Put a bit more politely, our arrival in your fair township was not intentional at all.  And to be clear, we can be certain the Horror we hunt is not here.  Of that you need have no fear whatsoever.  We have been hunting it for just over a year now as a group, though individually Calisaren has been aware of it the longest - she first encountered it nearly fifteen years past, though she was not hunting it for most of that time.  I would say Orm'gha has been actively seeking it the longest, but even there, much of that time was spent in finding allies, for even someone as robust as Orm'gha is wiser than to hunt a Horror alone."

"So that's us.  If we might ask, what brings you, fair Feydra, to grace our afternoon?"

Feydra makes her way to the 'front' proper of the school, as her eyes go wide with the barrage of information. First, Peck completing her introduction for her, followed by the abrupt introduction of all the Strangers, and finally some summary of Horror talk. Her head fairly spinning by the time Tralistaire focuses attention back to her.

Clearing her throat slightly, she lets the bottoms of her skirts drop back to the floor and clasps her hands in front of her, "Apologies for the interruption... I... my Father wished to know if your accommodations were adequate and I have more spare moments to inquire than he does." She hedged a bit, "I'm also glad to hear that your arrival doesn't suggest any danger about our parts," she noted solemnly, as one hand subconsciously reached up to her neck to fiddle with a delicate silver chain partially hidden behind her dress bodice and the wrap across her shoulders, tied across her chest. "Not Horror related ones, anyway...." Suddenly remembering herself, she drops her hand and looks at the Strangers, "How much longer will you be with us? And is there anything else you need?" Her eyes stray to the other town folk in the room, questioningly, as if she's not really sure why any of them are there.

Peck suppresses a grin as Kira efficiently interrupts what would undoubtedly have been a most long-winded introduction by Tralistaire, appreciating the Orc's economy with words as the T'skrang does not.

Though the tenacity of the Strangers in following the trail of the Horror, some of them for almost as many years as he has, both awes and comforts him in terms of the commitment that requires (in equal measure to the fear and revulsion that the thought of such a creature invokes).

In the face of such marvels, the return to the mundane, as Feydra correctly delivers the Mayor's enquiries, is somewhat jarring leaving him much disturbed.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:15, Sun 06 Oct 2019.

Ariadne exhumed and leaned forward over the table. Her pen moved idly to her mouth and started to bite gently on it as if she lacked something to do.
After a few seconds she turned her attention to Peck and mimed silently "What?".
Pen still resting in the corner of her mouth.

Yona hunches down in her seat as Feydra enters, and carefully does not make eye contact with the other girl.  This is hardly surprising, since Yona has spent a relatively large portion of her short life learning that any sort of connection with others is often a bad thing.  Usually resulting in a variety of negative situations.

Insults, threats, cruel jokes, hurt feelings, and occasional violence.  Just to name a few examples.

Still, she pays close attention to what everybody is saying.

Peck notices Ariadne's silent enquiry, but shakes his head, trying to persuade both her and himself that naught is amiss.

Tralistaire raises an eye-ridge amusedly.  "Your father's concern is greatly appreciated," he says, inclining his head.  "We are fine, of course.  Compared to the nights we had to spend high in the windswept peaks of Ustrect, almost anything is comfortable, and this," he gestures grandly to the half-built walls, "Is luxury.  Of course, the mountains were the worst for me, perhaps leading to an unfair comparative," he allows, looking over the other Strangers with concern.  "Does anyone here find this schoolhouse to be untenably abominable?"

Jenette chuckles.  "What, after the swamp?" she asks.  "I don't think so."

Calisaren wrinkles her nose.  "It was the sewer for me.  Ugh," she shudders.

Llewendan stretches, shaking his head and leaning back against the wall.  "I'm comfortable anywhere," he demurs.

Kira cocks her head, looking at him skeptically.  "What, even in the Badlands?" she asks.  He shrugs.

Tralistaire lets the silence sit for a beat, until it's clear that neither Orm'gha nor Flechette are going to deign to join in the fun.  "Well, I believe we all find our circumstances tolerable, and the people of your town quite welcoming.  But in speaking with your father," he turns his attention back to Feydra, "It came out that until the building is finished and something more formal might be arranged, teaching is generally done by anyone who has time and something to teach, and attended by anyone who is interested.  We... have both of the former, and some of your peers, to our unending delight, have turned out to be the latter."

Calisaren flutters up briefly, hovering at eye-level and looking at Faydra curiously.  "What about you?" she asks, curiously.  "If you could learn anything at all, what would it be?"

Yona sits a little straighter and listens with interest as the visitors discuss other places they have been, and compare them to their current location.  And mentally, she agrees with them.  She, herself, has been in far worse places (in fact, many of those places have been among her various homes over the years).

The question for Feydra really draws her attention though - what is the mayor's daughter interested in learning?

And following that comes a dreadful thought... What if Jenette needs to abandon me, to teach her instead?

Feydra listens curiously as the Strangers discuss the other places they'd been, her eyes going wide as they start naming names. "All the places on the maps..." she says quietly. She almost seems shaken when Tralistaire looks back at her. "Uh, yes, that's how learning here works... mostly...." she turns to look over Ariadne, Puck, and yes, Yona again, silently wondering what they were studying. Calisaren fluttering past her steals her attention away again, "What would I...?" She seems wholly caught off guard by the question. "Well, I... I have tutors that come teach me... politics and trade, mostly. And social conduct. Sometimes I sit in on meetings...." She looks around at nothing in particular, seemingly trying to find the correct answer wedged in the corners of the half-built room.

The places the Strangers mention are but words to Peck, if ones that invoke a certain curiosity and wonder.

"Not that," he says quietly as Feydra's words fail her.  "He speaks of what calls to you ... to your heart.  Not what you are required to do or even what you want ... but what you must."

Feydra's eyes wander to Peck at his words. "I... what I must?" She blinks slowly and looks down at her feet thoughtfully for a long moment. "I... I like going to the fields and the orchard... but I don't really know much about caring for them." She almost sounds sad as she says it, but just as suddenly looks up and tosses her hair over one shoulder, "I'm not very helpful there, but it's fine, because I shouldn't be around that area anyway. That's for other people to do." She looks over the others not exactly pointedly, but certainly not in the best of judgement.

With more-or-less permission to be absent from his tasks at his adopted father's forge to learn what Kira might teach him, Peck realises no offence at Feydra's perhaps unconsidered remarks, though her answer puzzles him, more than enough for him to forget his habitual shyness in speaking when but moments before he'd been hanging on Tralistaire's words.

"What draws you to the fields and orchard ?" he asks, wondering if his own fascination with the making of blades has a parallel ... or if the compulsion he feels is perhaps a fault in himself, not shared.

"I..." Feydra's hand drew back to the chain she'd been fussing with earlier, "Just... memories..." she replied hurriedly, averting her eyes back to her delicate shoes.

"They aren't taken care of like they used to be. That's all. Someone should do something about it. There are better ways to do it, but you have to know how." She chews her lip, getting distracted by her thoughts, "The way it all works together... there has to be enough water running into the lake when the rainy season comes for the fish and the crops and the soil has to be right so it doesn't all run away in the rain, or the winds, when they come, but not too much that it can't be worked... and... and you need to take care for the bugs and the other animals too, because it all sort of affects each other." She pulls her hand away from her chain to make a rotating motion with her index fingers, "You can't just leave parts of it out, or it doesn't work as well."

She stops suddenly and just stares dumbly at her hands. "But... I mean, I don't really know how. Just someone should do it right." She blinks a few times and looks up somewhat confusedly at Peck, "I guess it's complicated...."

Calisaren blinks, looking back at Tralistaire, and settles lightly back on the ground.  "More complicated indeed," she agrees.

Tralistaire chuckles, nodding.  "Not everyone has such a calling as Peck identified, though," he gives Kira an appreciative look, "He did quite efficiently find the heart of the matter, didn't he?"

Kira wrinkles her nose.  "You make us sound like Archers," she complains.  "We understand the true shape of things.  That's all he did."  She winks at Peck.


Tralistaire bows his head in apology, and then turns back to Feydra, taking a step closer to her, though not so close as to risk seeming threatening.  "But in that I heard echoes of two... perhaps three?  It is not our intent to make you uncomfortable, but if you don't mind exploring this avenue just a bit, would you say it is more the interplay of land and sky, the rain and soil themselves, that call to you?  Or the intricacies--"

Flechette taps Ariadne on the shoulder.  "Bored yet?" she asks.

Tralistaire continues without acknowledging, "--of the system and the drive for perfection?  Or, to approach from another angle, might it be the caretaking, a sense of stewardship?"

Calisaren nods slightly at each of these, and then adds, "Or, naturally, something entirely different, possibly even using your own words," she suggests.

As the daughter of an illustrious (for the village at least) maverick father who owned both apiaries and a watermill Feydra's words were a challenge.
Her eyes narrowed to two dark slits on her face as she targetted in on Feydra.
She had expected this sort of insult from Chaia, but not from the mayors daughter.
Ariadne leaned back and whispered to Flechette
"On the contrary. This has just become interesting. I've been struggling to sit still and focus, but now there's something I need to do."

Ariadne leaned forward again, hands still folded on the pult in front of her.
"Feydra... Are you saying my father is doing a poor job?" Ariadne interjected.
"I mean I know our fathers butt heads every time Hamilcars* ideas get a bit... Expansive, but would you say we are not providing enough fish for the village? That the apiary is not tended well enough? That he has focused too much on his mill to be creative with fertilisers? Perhaps that he is getting on in years and now no longer persues new ideas with the same fervor as when we were toddlers?
Please. Tell me; where is it exactly you think my father has failed the community and environmnet?"
Ariadne gave a polite smile that barely hid how insulted she felt on her parents behalf. Perhaps Feydra was on about something else, but a challenge was a challenge and Ariadne wasn't about to back down just because she couldn't beat it with a stick.

*Hamilcar, is Ariadnes father and inventive citizen. He is briefly mentioned in the "Welcome to Karrics Bend" thread. I modelled him after a young Da Vinci living in a village with less resources and more time. That he has a daughter that is too energetic to actually sit down and think out a plan is just one of the great ironies of life.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 23:30, Wed 06 Nov 2019.

Feydra's attention is redirected to the Strangers and she seems to be grappling for an answer again, when Ariadne interjects. As if drawing her back from the odd reality she'd walked into, she turns to regard Ariadne evenly, but coolly and clasps her hands in front of her. "Your father, Hamilcar, has provided a great many services to Karrics Bend that have benefited the town. Without his... expertise and resourcefulness we would no doubt be short many things. His endeavors in so much as the town has supported them have proven to be good investments, on the whole. However," she tossed her head sending a few stray locks over one shoulder, "your father is but one man and the town cannot have its vast resources managed expertly by only one person, who indulges in one thing just long enough for it to lead to another. Perhaps if he had an additional assistant as passionate as yourself to further aid him? Then it might be improved upon even further," she let her cool gaze linger on Ariadne a beat before turning back to Tralistaire.

She shrugged non-nonchalantly, "The feeling of connectedness," she blurted out. "The sense that it's more than a lake, or a field... that everything is alive and connected to everything else. You can't touch one thing without touching another. We're a part of all that, too. It's not... we're not separate...." she stops short, her lips parted. We're not alone. She seems to decide her answer is complete and resets her lips, looking at Tralistaire expectantly, as though he's about to either impart further knowledge to her, or give her some kind of a grade.

Ariadne leaned back and replied quietly to Flechette.
"Okay. Now I'm bored. These kind of insults are a bit too high-brow for me.
Got any suggestions on what to do?"

Yona frowns.  What Feydra is saying makes little sense to her.  Being unable to touch a thing without touching everything else would soon become uncomfortable if, for example, you were to pick up a knife and, instead, put your hand in a nearby fire.

Unless that isn't what Feydra meant...

Maybe she's talking about something else, and those words are the closest ahe can come to a clear explanation?  Or maybe Yona is dreaming?  She raps her knuckles hard on the lumber she is sitting on, and gasps at the sudden pain and the loud noise (loud enough to draw the attention of many in the room).  Not a dream then.  "Sorry.  I was... testing something."  And it was a test of something else too... the only thing Yona touched was the wood.  So she has clearly misunderstood what Feydra said.

Maybe Jenette knows what Feydra is talking about?  But a quick look about shows that Jenette isn't here.  Which deepens Yona's frown.

Peck too listens attentively as Feydra struggles to make herself understood (or perhaps to understand), doubting that he'd be any more eloquent in trying to explain himself, despite Tralistaire's comments and the alarming wink that Kira bestows on him to which he returns his best non-committal smile.

But then it seems things go sideways as Ariadne replies not without some heat and he realises that the words themselves which the mayor's daughter struggles to articulate are not without an impact of their own.

Connectedness ... that one word sums up the crux of the matter, though it seems the opposite of what he felt when he held Kira's knife, the weapon whole and complete into itself, a ... rightness to its being, that blade so much more than just worked metal with a good edge.

Flechette leans forward, watching the exchange between Ariadne and Feydra with a broad grin.  At the end, she applauds, chuckling.  "High-brow, maybe, but nicely done.  Parry and riposte, almost without sounding like either."  She gives Feydra a nod.  "You don't have the fire to be one of mine, but someday, if the urge strikes you, don't ignore it."

"You two..." she waves at Tralistaire and Calisaren, "Should just duel it out, though.  Or flip a coin.  This is taking forever."

Calisaren, though, takes a small step back with a brief bow.  "No, I think we have it.  The intricacies of systems is one thing, and I always enjoy a good debate over holistics, but connectedness?  That sounds like something Tralistaire would say."

The T'skrang winks.  "Indeed it does," he agrees.  "But I'd not like to bore Ariadne further, for that, too, will bear its own ripples, I'm sure.  Shall we separate for some individual instruction again?" he proposes.  "Feydra, perhaps you could show me one of your favorite spots, if you would be so gracious?"


Flechette, meanwhile, is already heading out, looking back at Ariadne.  "There anywhere to go in this town if you're looking for trouble?" she asks, hopefully.

Ariadne sweeped her things off her pult with a, perhaps too, rehearsed swoop and headed out the door before most of her classmates had a chance to react.
"See you later guys!" she shouted not really caring if she interrupted some of the more verbose members of the room.
"Hmmm... Most the time that just means figuring out where Urdons Gang is hanging out and see how you can foil their plans without getting their attention.
I'm guessing they'd either be hanging around the watchtower or near the trisnari."
"I hope it's the trisnari" she added.

Feydra's eyes strayed to look questioningly at Yona with the sudden rapping, but are snapped back to the Strangers with Flechette's praise. The woman made little sense to her with her talk of weapon play, but it was evident something had amused her. "Of course?" She replied, not entirely sure what the offer was exactly, but feeling she ought to at least acknowledge it politely. She felt self-conscious as the others discussed her almost as if she wasn't there. Until....
"Of course, I can show you the orchard...." she paused a little, trying to think if there was any reason not to do so, or at least any reason her father wouldn't want her to do so. And, well, there were certainly plenty... but if she was to be a proper liaison, that meant doing something different than she normally would anyway. "It's this way...." she motioned, looking to see if Tralistaire meant, right-right now. Though it certainly seemed so, as Flechette and Ariadne headed off.

Peck listens, making what he can of the debate, though his own interpretation is coloured by his own experiences, and perhaps wanders far, far along a distant and dusty trail to the one the others walk with their words.

They seek the fire, but the fire tempers the blade and yet somehow becomes a part of it ... and the duel to which Flechette so casually refers most certainly requires weapons, if but a clenched fist, and that same heat, even if it but enflames anger.

Though like as not, he seeks deep meaning where there is none.  Or perhaps but a simple truth ...

Flechette's parting remark brings a grin to the young man's lips.

Looking for trouble ?  Try the schoolhouse.  Feydra, like the rest of them, found it there.

"Back to the forge ?" he asks Kira, as Tralistaire urges them depart, eager to learn everything.  "I think Marden almost as keen as I !"

Puzzled, Yona thinks about what to do.  People seem to be going with their mentors for further instruction, but her teacher has apparently vanished.  A moment's thought gives her the answer to the conundrum - it's a test.  Jenette wants her to see if she can find her.

Obvious really...

She siides down from her perch, and starts limping across the room, leaning heavily on her walking stick.

Looking around the room, she announces, "The weather is so good, I think I'll take a walk."

Like a bubble popping on the surface of a pond, the group wobbles for a moment and then suddenly the cohesion is gone and where there was a gathering, suddenly there are but individuals and pairs, each following their own trajectory.

Llewendan stretches lazily and settles down in a spot of sun, looking almost impossibly content.  Calisaren and Orm'gha, arguably the most mis-matched pair one could find in the erstwhile assembly, set out together, the latter carefully and automatically shortening his stride to match the former.


Ariadne and Flechette are the first pair out the door, Flechette clapping her hands together cheerfully.  "Trisnari it is!  Lead the way."  Kira and Peck quickly realize they'll be walking along roughly the same path, and drop back a little, either politely giving the two space of, perhaps, not wanting to be associated with them during their own stroll across the open pavilion area.  Meanwhile, Tralisaire does, indeed, follow Feydra cheerfully, his tail waving gracefully as he walks.

Orm'gha gives a polite nod to Yona as she announces her own intentions. 



As Ariadne and Flechette approach the Trisnari, they don't see any immediate signs of anyone commonly associated with Urdon's Gang, though Ariadne notes that Maestil is working there today, carrying drinks out to people's tables.

At roughly the same time, Marden glances up from his work and spots Peck.  Pausing, he waves.  He even seems to include Kira in it a bit, though his eyes remain somewhat suspicious.

"So they do can be useful too..." Ariadne told herself thoughtfully as she beheld Maestil working the orders.
She then leaned to Flechette and said, in a somewhat hushed voice;
"I don't know what our possibilities are, but here is a bit of background information you'd probably like to know.
My dad supplies the Trisnari with a lot of their consumables.
Anything fish, honeyroasted or grinded is probably from the watermill.
In fact; if it isn't from a field or hunters it's probably my fathers doing.
Now. I'm not sure what you have in mind, but I don't want to pick a fight I can win. That includes keeping my father out of the breach.
Think we can work with these conditions or should we go to the old watchtower and see if there's easier targets there?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 14:51, Sat 28 Dec 2019.

Well, the good thing is that Karick's Bend isn't a big place.  The odds of finding Jenette before it gets too dark to see are pretty good, all things considered.

Yona limps out of the school house, supported by her walking stick.  She sees Peck heading off towards the forge, and for some reason decides to start her own search in the opposite direction.

That plan is modified, almost immediately, as she spots a couple of members of Urdon's gang, Janin and Avahur to be exact, loitering about not far from the Troll Enclave.  A sharp right turn sees her moving in the general direction of the T'skrang Ranch instead, with occasional nonchalant glances over her shoulder.

True, Avahur can sometimes be reasonable, but Janin has enough spite that some of it rubs off on the other orc when they are together.  On the whole, Yona wants to avoid them...

In between keeping an eye on that pair, Yona continues looking for her new mentor.

Peck's confidence lessens as he sees the suspicion in Marden's face. Perhaps not so keen, then ... or perhaps it is neither Kira's work nor herself which earns that glance, merely her methods.

Keeping his mouth shut and head down, the young man busies himself about the forge, all the fetching and carrying and cleaning and the like that needs to be done around the actual Making.

Feydra looks a little surprised at the responsiveness to her offer and looks about for a moment to choose the best way to get to the orchard, as it's not exactly close to the center of town. "Um, this way," she affirms again and leads them down a few roadways with a confidant stride that in no way reflects the uncertainty of her expressions. She stops as the well paved road gradually transitions into a dirt path leading toward a copse of trees that stand decidedly apart from those that grow naturally in the area. "The orchard," she gestures toward it, looking with uncertainty at Tralistaire.

Flechette gives Ariadne a sidelong look, and then smiles, nodding.  "Lecturing is more 'Staire's style," she muses.  "But, if you want to be a champion, picking your battles is an important part of that.  Doing it without looking like that's what you're doing..."  With a wink and a laugh, she turns towards the watchtower.  "It's also," she adds, "A pretty careful balance between turning the tables and becoming the bully.  I've sometimes said it's like juggling flaming daggers, but if I'm being honest, that's easy.  So, just what kind of trouble are you hoping for?" she asks.


Out of the corner of her eye, Yona keeps an eye on the pair of boys.  Just before she can move out of their sight, Avahur spots her, and she sees him move to try to block Janin from doing the same.  Unfortunately, it just draws his attention - she sees him look past, and a wicked sneer crosses his face.  Pushing Avahur aside, he starts stalking towards her with a very predatory expression.


Marden and Peck work easily together, while Kira tries to watch and stay out of the way.  Marden keeps working rather stoically, but Peck can see a tension in his muscles that isn't usually there.  After a little while, as he sets a nail aside to finish cooling, he clears his throat loudly.  "So, ah, your mom's promised pie for dinner," he says.  "Should be finishing up the last of the meat.  We'll need to pick up some more tomorrow."


Tralistaire follows Feydra's lead, walking alongside her in an easygoing way that still lets her show him where to go.  He hums to himself as he walks, enjoying the stroll.  When they reach her orchard, he pauses, tilting his head, and then steps forward hesitantly.  "Ah."  He steps quietly between the trees, watching where he sets his feet and keeping his tail lifted, then turns to face her and smoothly sits down.  "I see."  He closes his eyes, breathing slowly.

"Hmmm...
How does these 'duel of wits' function?"

Yona looks about quickly, searching for a place to hide, or even for a place where she can get through but Janin can't follow.

And then, of course, she is still trying to find Jenette... and then a thought strikes her.  What if Jenette doesn't want to be found?  The thought is soon dismissed - Yona knows the village far better than any outsider.

For now, she should focus on her own safety.

Feydra purses her lips, being equally unsure what to do in this situation. She opts to gently lift her skirts to avoid the dirt that readily awaits the opportunity to cling to them and takes a seat on a nearby log facing Tralistaire. She watches him a long moment, before flickering her eyes closed, not quite sure what they were doing, or what she was expected to do. She cracks them back open periodically to see if Tralistaire has done anything different. It wouldn't do for her to lose him here, after all, or to let him be up to some other mischief while she wasn't paying attention.

While the work of the forge is nothing new to him, Peck finds himself viewing it as if anew, looking at each component of his and Marden's labours in a different way.  Perhaps it is his intensity that is worrying his adopted father ...

Pie for dinner.  The young man smiles for that is both familiar and his favourite besides.  He's not sure if Kira is invited, but it's not his place to offer.  And besides, she is certainly not shy and as like will invite herself if she wishes.

Pick up more tomorrow. Peck almost feels the uncertainty and question in Marden's voice.  Has the coming of the strangers and his keenness to learn from them really changed things that much between them ?  And how does he feel about that.

"Of course," the young man tries to set Marden at ease for while the older man continues to labour at the forge.  "I'll need to accompany my mother to the market tomorrow," he explains Kira, almost surprising himself that he's telling her, not feeling the need to ask her permission either, though he's sure he would have but days ago.

Perhaps these strangers change things wherever they go.