Well...uh...I, I didnt know that Althaea.  I'm truly sorry you had to pay such a high price for their release.  For that I thank you greatly and please know that we would never expect you or your friends to pay any personal price to rid them of this curse.

Thorin, in a sort of perplexed state, manages a nod at what Sebastian says, now that it seems like the conversation is taking a lighter tone.

Sebastian begins again and says:

I merely meant that I can not go, not because I dont want to, just that I cant.  She will kill me, that much I know.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:33, Fri 11 Sept 2020.

I can accept this reason, I apologize for my rash judgment as well. We have not seen eye-to-eye since the first night we met and I admit, I may jump to conclusions when you are involved. In your past dealings with her, what price did she charge for her services? Was it gold or some other tradeable item? If so, I merely ask that Vertigo as a community pay for the cure, I will still travel to do dealings with her provided this.

I know I have a temper as well Althaea and it's something Thorin, and others, have asked me to work on.  I'm trying, but I must admit, you do find a way to get on my last nerve!  It's quite commendable, actually.  Not many can do that.

In my past dealings with the witch, when I first heard of her and how she operated, I found that her price is never what you think it will be and not something that can be anticipated or understood.  From me, she asked me for three very strange items:

A rusted dagger untouched by air, the eye of a beholder no more than 24 hours old, and a monogrammed handkerchief from one of my Kin.

It was a strange request, but to ensure the safety of my borders where I was stretched too thin, I made it a priority.

So all I can say, is I have no fucking idea what she could possibly want.

She sounds delightful. I said using the same sarcastic tone I had heard from Aleena earlier that evening.

I do believe my Mother may have some words of wisdom in this situation, you are I too much alike and therefore are unlikely to get along. As a result of this, I declare you, Sebastian Manchester III, to be my sworn rival. May it not always lead to venomous disagreements but instead lead us to heightened intellectual conversations that challenge us to do bigger and better things to outdo one another. What do you say? I hold out my hand for Sebastian to shake.

Finally, we arrive at Vertigo and it’s built under an upside down mountain?!? Who builds a town under that? Apparently this Dwarf named Thorin, I keep hearing about. As we move through the city it’s a bit dizzying. I haven’t been this deep into a major settlement in a long time. Andraste keeps me from getting separated and lost in the winding streets and makeshift buildings. I try to keep as low a profile as possible. Most people see the dress and stare but with the hood up and my googles on I’m pretty hard to see. I’m introduced to the Dwarven city leader. He seems nice and hardened like most Dwarves I’ve known, but that’s only until they see what I am. I try to keep as concealed as I can, and there is no mention of me, so I’ll keep hope alive, I guess.

Later there is a celebration of some kind; to be honest there is so much going on in this town that I’m a bit thrown into the deep end. Andraste asked me to join her for a break from everything going on and I’m all for it. I’ll keep quiet and steer clear of making myself noticed. I feel like a bit of her silent shadow, but it keeps me out of trouble. Drow keeps her distance and watches from a bit further. She knows not to bring us attention. So for now I follow and listen.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:18, Fri 11 Sept 2020.

The Feywild spawns such strange creatures, but I can't argue with that logic.  Sworn Rivals it is! Sebastian smiles, probably in the warmest smile anyone has ever seen on his face, and shake yours hand in one exaggerated up and down shake.

Thorin looks on in disbelief, while Corsica continues to remain silent, which is a feat in itself, at everything that unfolded here this evening.

Sand sat still without moving a wooden muscle for a long time after the two women left. Despite the appearances, he was not in his rest cycle yet, but was in deep thought. The fact that he seemed to have much more vocabulary in elven, which he didn’t know he could comprehend, let alone speak, a scant four days ago, was puzzling him greatly. Finally he moved, startling Clacker, that clacked at him.

Erik was still with his new four legged friends, and in a dark corner of the stable, Zail stirred, revealing her presence. Sand wondered if he would need to guard her too, but she seemed more adept at social gathering than Erik. Her reason for being here was probably because of her heritage, when some of her kin attacked the town only a few days ago. That was logical and he looked at her, acknowledging her presence with a nod.

He looked again at Erik, something nagging in his mind. The druid had called Thorin “nice beard”, while playing with his own scraggly and unkept facial hairs. He remembered Gustav brushing the tail of Sprite, and he imagined that Thorin was probably doing the same thing to his own beard. That was something he could do, and it would probably help Erik integrate with the population. Looking around, knowing the inhabitants had an habit of discarding their broken tools, he did not see what he wanted in the stable.

Sand will come back.

He rose and left the stable, remembering where he had seen the kind of garbage dump. There, he picked up what he thought he would need and went back to the stable ten minutes later. Clearing a space on the floor, he used his small mastery of earth to create a workbench where he deposited his loot and opened his hidden tool box in his thigh. Using a combination of craftsmanship and magic, totally concentrated on his task, he first created a metal comb. Satisfied, he took on the more complicated task of making a brush. Finally he called Erik and showed him his creations.

Erik take these. Use them to have nice beard and hairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:47, Sat 12 Sept 2020.

Erik seemed so much more at ease here in his little bubble of safety. Zail's presence didn't seem to change that. They hadn't really spoken to each other but he acknowledged her when he became aware of her presence with a nod, something he may have picked up from Sand. When the metal man came back Erik had moved away from his friends and sat closely to watch what Sand was doing. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. Sand didn't seem to demand or require much communication.

When presented with the comb and brush the wild man first cocked his head to the side slightly but when explained that they could be used to have a nice beard he nodded that slightly distinct nod that was Sand's variation of a smile.

He remembered long ago seeing his father comb through a beard and immediately attempted the same only to be met with the sharp pain of many tangles being yoinked at once. He yelped in pain and looked down at the comb accusingly. Then he started to think about the other things he remembered his father doing first. He lifted his beard and looked at not just the tangles but the gathered detritus there. This would not do. Inspiration struck. He took his wooden shield and laid it on the ground like a shallow, wide bowl. His eyes went to the decanter that Sand had used to put out the fires, his finger pointed to the shield and he looked up to Sand. All this while crouched down. He set the comb and brush down.

"Water,    please?"

When the metal man nodded and acquiesced, Erik's toes began to wriggle in the sand and his hands touched the fresh beautiful delicious water that filled his makeshift bowl in the middle of the stable. Then suddenly he scooped up the shield and dumped the water on himself drenching not just himself but all of his belongings.

For a moment he sat there with the water dripping off of him and then he raised a hand. The tattoo of a narrow running stream that went from his elbow to his pinky on his left hand began to shift and flow and as it did every drop of the water that he'd poured from the shield and that had scattered amongst his things and the floor began to coalesce. At first a mucky sort of water formed in the shield-bowl but with another motion and while tilting the shield back and forth the muck started to be force filtered out by his magic that like Sand's could shape the water itself. He tossed the water on himself a few more times following the same process. After two or three full body showers he then crouched over the bowl again and lay his beard down into it. Moving his left hand to move the water and his right to comb he went through the painful process of cleaning out a beard that had long been uncared for. But now he knew a beautiful beard was a thing someone could have and Sand had given him the means.

He offered the brush back to Sand as he continued the process of cleaning and caring for his beard.

By the end of it all he looked much the same wild man but with a significantly cleaner exterior and perhaps a bit of a more tamed mane. In addition there was a smile on his face that seemed like it would never leave.

Even when the Bargainer Bringer of Food came back to the stable he didn't react as he usually did and the smile stuck around. His eyes went to hers and back down fairly quickly but he stood at an angle in such a way as to make sure his hair and beard were visible while he returned to the horses.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:15, Sat 12 Sept 2020.

In the morning, I will confer with my companions and plan the journey to the swamp witch. For now, I need to finish getting ready for this party you were so kind as to throw for us. If you will excuse me, I will see everyone there shortly.

I bowed to the group and stepped out into the main tunnel. Things with Sebastian would hopefully be better now, though. Regardless, I still wanted to show up Aleena in her own dress so I went to see Sand out in the stables for some magic.

Sand, I do not wish to interrupt your work, but would you be able to use your magic on the dress I borrowed from Aleena? She was not polite enough to borrow me a recent dress that had not already been worn thin. I apologize for the late intrusion.

Sand will fix dress for Althaea.

As Sand got to work fixing the dress, I looked around the stables. I could see a makeshift workbench with spare parts lying around it. As Erik noticed me enter the stables, he made eye contact for a brief moment before looking away again and moving back to the horses. He looked cleaner than when I had been out here earlier, as well. I did a double-take, did Erik comb his beard? He seemed happier, a smile seemingly permanently attached to his face. Behind Erik, Zail was hiding out in the corner, trying not to be noticed.

Sand continued working, occasionally turning me this way or that to better reach bits of the fabric he would have otherwise missed. It took several minutes, due to the sheer amount of fabric but once he was done the dress was of the same quality as when it was first made. There were no longer any worn bits from repetitive use or small tatters from being stepped on.

Sand done. Then, in elvish, Althaea pretty in dress. But you don't need it, you outshine Aleena naturally, like the sun outshines the moon.

Thank you, Sand. It is most appreciated. I looked back toward Erik and his freshly combed beard and thought back to this afternoon and how Erik had looked at Thorin's beard and then played with his own. Erik, would you like me to braid your beard like Thorin's?

Althaea....braid....beard? Erik started to shake his head no as his eyes flared with an almost childlike fear.

Are you sure? It will keep your beard free of tangles. It will not hurt to comb next time.

Not....hurt. He slowly stopped shaking his head. The look turned thoughtful and he ran his hand through the freshly cleaned beard, his head tilting. He took a deep breath as though to steel his nerves and nodded. Okay.

I walked over to him slowly so I would not frighten him. I could tell he was very reluctant to have me do this. Carefully, so as to not pull the hair of his beard, I separated it into three even sections and began to braid it. When I got closer his eyes squeezed nearly shut as he watched me work almost waiting for the pain to occur. Once I was done, I tied a ribbon around the bottom and cut off the excess. There, all done. I have a party to get to. I will be back in the morning with breakfast for everyone.

Once I was back inside, I went to see Mera again. Mera, it is Althaea again. I was wondering if you could help me with some accessories quickly? I stepped through the curtain to show Mera what she would have to work with. Sand mended the fabric to be like new again but I want it to be different than when Aleena wore it. She was not very nice when she gave it to me. Can you help?

Of course dear.

Mera begins sifting through different laces and beads to find just exactly the piece she was looking for. An emerald sash that would perfectly compliment the rest of the dress, while helping to fit it to Althaea's smaller frame. It took but a few minutes for the experienced woman to sew the sash into place and tie it for me.

You look stunning dear. Have fun at your party.

I left Mera's and headed toward the Better Times Inn. I found Corsica as soon as I arrived. Have you seen Jacob yet? I just want to eat and then I can give you some time to mingle.

The festivities got underway shortly after I returned to the main cave complex. People filter into the Better Times Inn slowly at first in small groups but soon all the tables are full and a growing number of people are standing around the perimeter of the main room. Rory and Corsica come out of the kitchen bearing a large platter of roast meat, most likely from the Owlbear we brought back this afternoon, and set it on the bar. Given the short time they had to butcher and prepare the food it was a simple roast and its smell filled the room as soon as the door to the kitchen was open. After the roast they brought out trays of cooked vegetables and set them down in a row along the bar. A line had already started and Corsica began serving people while Rory carved.

Everyone looked so happy; I am glad my last night here would be a happy one.

I join the line for food and I have almost reached the bar when a drunken human man slams into me and splashes his food against my left sleeve. From the smell of him he has already had more than a few mugs of ale. He stained my shirt, how dare he! What an irresponsible, ill-behaved--Whoa, were did that come from? It is just a shirt, it can be washed and if necessary replaced. I gently steady the man and he careens off to a table by the fire.

(Note during this exchange brief streaks of red flash through her hair.)

Once I have my food I make my way to the back corner to quickly eat. My muscles ache from my intense workout and it makes standing uncomfortable but it is only a minor annoyance. I eat quickly and place my dishes on the end of the bar where a growing pile has grown as people finish their meal. The main room of the inn is full so I move out into the main cavern; groups of people are waiting out here to enter the inn and get some food but a growing number are gathering to one end; some are bringing out musical instruments. They are not professional but they are enthusiastic and the music is lively and soon a number of people are laughing and spinning about an impromptu dance floor. Marvelous!

I join the dancers and lose myself in the music. I dance with a number of towns folk, most lacked skill but that was not important. A few man let their hands get a bit adventurous but they respond to a gentle correction so it is not a problem. My heart is beating in time with the music and the sound of rushing blood fills my ears overlaying the music of the impromptu band; I wish all nights could be like this. They were once. Suddenly I am filled with the sense memories of my father's violin and the feel of cobblestones under my dancing feet as I whirl under the street lights.

I shake my head to break free of the memory; those days are long over. I work my way to the edge of the dancing area; I think I am done, for now. I make my way back to my things and reverently take out my violin; it will be nice to play for awhile. A perfect way to end the evening.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:08, Sun 13 Sept 2020.

After fixing the fabric of Atlhaea dress, Sand nodded when his saw the woman starting to braid Erik’s beard. He was happy to have helped his friends, even happier to have built the comb and brush for Erik. After the Eladrin noble was done, Erik could not help to show off his new look and Sand nodded, happy for him. But there was one person in the group that did not see him like that, and the construct had an idea.

Erik likes new beard. Erik wants to show new beard to Andraste? She not see it.

Although he probably had less exposition to civilization than Erik, he was not afraid of it. And they were throwing at party for them, Sand was curious to see what that would be like.

Zail wants to come too? Zail must be hungry, Sand did not see Zail eat.

Erik was strutting the stable when Sand suggested showing off his new pride and joy to his other friend who hadn't seen it yet. Now his hair had changed like hers. Well not exactly like hers. But still. He would like to show her just like Sand suggested.

The man beast stood up and affected the walk of one of the hunters he preferred over the others he'd tried to replicate. It wasn't exactly right but he was standing at least. Which showed off his beard far better and it didn't drag on the ground ruining it's nice new braid.

"We go." His brow furrowed though and he started to take off his pack and slung it into one of the corners of the stable farthest from the door. Wearing nothing but his cloth covering his loins now he nodded his head and looked toward the door. "Only short time, to many people for long time."

Sand nodded when Erik said he would go to the party, but warning that the mass of people would not be to his liking. The basically always naked warforged did not note that the man was very under-dressed for the occasion.

Sand understands Erik. Just a short time.

He looked at Zail to see if she would follow, and after not having a reaction from the young dark elf, he moved out of the stable. He expected her to follow in the background, as she had since Althaea had talked to her in the grove, so was not too worried. She was also looking for her father, from what he understood. For the parent-less construct, such a bond was hard to imagine. But he certainly could help too if she asked.

Entering the cavern that held the Better Times Inn, Clacker and Erik in tow, the Warforged looked over the heads of pretty much everybody, finally spotting Andraste, her color changing hair blonde this time, dancing in the middle of the moving throng. He tried to attract her attention, but there was too much activity going on and the half elf didn’t see him. It was not until after she had decided to stop whatever dance she was doing and moved to the side, that he had his chance. Approaching her when she was going for her violin, he said in Elvish.

You dance very well, congratulations are in order. Erik has something he would like to show you. He will want to leave soon, he’s not comfortable in crowds, but he made the effort to come, which is commendable.

Moving aside, letting the druid express himself, while he looked around for Althaea, curious to see how the repaired dress was faring on the Eladrin.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:40, Thu 17 Sept 2020.

Hearing Sand I turn to face him, Erik barely visible, standing upright and hiding behind his friend."Thank you Sand, if you would let me play a few songs while I recover I would of course love to share a dance with you or any of our companions." I say with a smile before taking a drink of water.

Violin in hand, I take a step to the side so that I can see Erik better and look at him closely; he has taken the time to thoroughly clean himself but here and there smudges of dirt mark his skin, not surprising given his hunched movements and that he is staying in the stable. His beard, once wild and full of tangles and snarls, has been carefully brushed and woven into a simple braid with a green ribbon tied at the end; either Zail or Althaea must have helped him with that. Judging from how he is jutting his chin forward and the tilt of his head he is very proud of his new beard. "Well, that is very handsome. May I?" I ask him softly, raising my hand to indicate the beard. He looks at me warily for a moment before tilting his head slightly to give me better access. I step forward and reach up to gently run my fingers from just below his right ear down his jaw and to the tip of his beard; the hair is a little course but it is clean. "Very nice. Is this for a special occasion or do you plan on doing this regularly?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Fri 18 Sept 2020.

The Better Times Inn was more lively than it had been in ages.  The smells and aromas coming from the plethora of dishes prepared and served by the staff, including Althaea whom was helping out, was tantalizing.  From the roasted owlbear to the spiced potatoes, or buttered rustic corn and cooked vegetables, to divine rhubarb pies that were already making their way out of the oven. Decorations hung on the walls and brightly colored flowers beautifying each of the tables and along the fireplace mantle, where a toasty fire crackled in the hearth.

It seems like the Better Times Inn was saving their best for a occasion just like this.  The staff decided to dress up for the occasion as well; Rory wearing a bright green shirt and black pants, and Corsica wearing a red dress to match her fiery hair, with a black laced corset in the front.

The inn was full of laughter and music, warm-hearted smiles and worry-free inhibitions.  Those not dancing to the music were thumping their feet to the beat of the rhythm, which could be heard coming from the recessed corridors of the inn, as well as outside in the main cavern hall.

With the party now in full swing, Sebastian and Aleena make a grand entrance with an obvious attempt at arriving fashionably late, the music softening a bit at their arrival.  They smile and wave a bit, Aleena looking ravishing in a deep red colored dress that was snug in all the right places.  She wore a necklace with a sparkling silver chain holding a ruby that matched the color of her dress, yet still, the real jewel of the party and where most of the heads still focused, was the emerald clad Althaea.  When Aleena was waving and looking around the room, seeing where most of the eyes were focused, you could almost hear the audible drop of her jaw when she finally laid eyes on Althaea.

It was hard for Althaea to not stand out though, wearing a stunning bright green dress adorned with a lighter emerald green satin sash, cinched tight to accentuate her lithe figure.  She sparkled without the jewelry and additional embellishments that Aleena wore.  There almost seemed to be a lapse in time, at the awkwardness that Aleena clearly felt and her anger was hard to hide as Sebastian did his best to console her; her responding with some less than playful slaps to leave her be, the red in her face almost matching the color of her dress.

It would be known the next morning that more than half of the patrons had a pinch in their necks from all the twisting and craning of their necks following Althaea as she went about helping Corsica with her duties.

After the music picked up again, Corsica took a look about the room, seeming satisfied, smiled, and after a brief exchange with Althaea, tossed her apron behind the counter with Rory, and heading out into the main hall in search of something or someone.

As Althaea was going about the chores, cleaning up the plates at the end of the bar that was never ending, as well as the ones left at the table when the patrons decided to get up and dance or find other amusement, she came across one stranger wearing a wide brimmed hat focused mostly on drink, which was surprising given the levity of tavern.  Can I get you anything stranger?

It was at that moment that the stranger looked up with a huge smile on his face.  Alaric stared back at Althaea, taking her in, You look absolutely gorgeous Althaea.  All eyes are on you tonight, especially mine.  How come you don't dress this way for me when I'm around?  With a chuckle, he quickly got up, his face turned serious, and embraced her, in both body and a deep kiss.

--------
Andraste, in the midst of her dancing saw Corsica head out into the main hall, trying to weave and bob past her and the other dancers, while looking around in earnest.  Once the dance ends, and Andraste pulls out her violin, Sand and Erik joining her, Andraste notices Alicia, sitting by herself looking out into the night, a tear running down her cheek.  Alicia seems to be missing some of the eccentric accessories she is used to wearing, like her hat and glasses.  There's a subtle beauty there that is easier to see without all the accouterments covering her soft and now pained face.

--------
Sand, focusing on the violin was a little surprised to see Scamp flying in, nearly crashing into the wall, before redirecting himself and landing on the Warforged's shoulder.

--------
Keeping herself mostly hidden was a specialty of Thorns, and she was a little surprised when Darcassan, one of the hunters, sidled up next to her in one of the back caverns.  She hadn't even heard him. Hello there.  Not interested in the party I see. Neither am I.  I don't know if we've been formally introduced, but I am Darcassan.  I wanted to thank you personally for helping to save my friends.  From what I've heard, you're a formidable warrior. 

When not getting much of a response, Darcassan pressed further. We're a lot like one another.  I'm more withdrawn most of the time as well, but in my time after the cataclysm, I've found that having someone, anyone to talk to, is a worthwhile endeavor.  We all struggle with our internal demons and from what I could see on our trip back from the church, you have more than your share.  You've helped me greatly by saving my friends.  Let me return the favor by being there for you.

Darcassan kept his eyes on Thorn even though in the darkness where she was mostly hidden, he couldn't fully see her eyes, more of just an outline of her face.  After a good half minute, his eyes moved to stare ahead, but it was clear he was not going anywhere.

As the silent alarm alerted her to another’s presence, Thorn slid the mushrooms she’d been eating into her pouch with one hand while the other reached for her knife – the space being too small for her usual weapons – and looked up to see the leader of the hunters standing in the cave mouth. Blocking her exit. Still, the cramped quarters would prove a greater disadvantage for the larger male who could not quite stand straight. And, since she had not heard sounds of a scuffle, he had likely slipped past Aisling rather than incapacitating him, which meant they could flank Darcassan – then he began speaking. Oh. He wanted to talk. And did not seem inclined to be discouraged by her silence. Unfortunately.

She removed her hand from her dagger and studied him. One of the Sy’Tel’Quessir, she thought. And beautiful. But his words made no sense. She intuited no guile and found herself unexpectedly certain he had stated his intentions sincerely and completely, but what was wrong with these people that they failed to see the implicit threat in asking personal questions? Or – she thought considering her companions’ candor – perhaps the fault lay with her. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The night had been long and draining, leaving her exhausted despite her earlier rest, and she was tempted to send him scurrying, both to reclaim her solitude and to relieve tension, but his tone was gentle and his presence soothing. Combined with his appearance, Darcassan almost reminded her of – she cut off that thought viciously.

Still, he was a potential source of information. He probably knew nothing of value to her, but what harm in seeing where a conversation would lead?

Thorn conspicuously crossed her arms, resting her fingers in a fashion that drew attention to her chakrams. For two reasons. First, she knew herself to be difficult to read and sought to be clear that her willingness to speak was entirely provisional, dependent upon his good behavior. More importantly, however, she wanted to see what he might say about her unusual weapons.

“You should thank Giltris instead. She was most determined. Or Althaea. Rescuing Althidon and Elias was entirely her doing. And they both enjoy talking.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:15, Fri 18 Sept 2020.

Those that are fond of excessive talking, generally have little to say that I want to hear.  From what I've gathered about you so far, is that you only talk when necessary, and when you do, it's concise and to the point.

I'm here to listen and would very much like to hear what you have to say.  I can see you're conflicted and need someone who won't judge you for who and what you are.  I offer you a confidant and perhaps, in time, I may even call you a friend.

Darcassan smiled at his joke, fully knowing how tough this nut would be to crack and the rare chance she be willing to call HIM a friend.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Sat 19 Sept 2020.

He wasn’t mocking her. At least, she didn’t think so. But was the illogic inherent in his statement intended to amuse? He was smiling, so perhaps. She couldn’t tell.

Time to discover more about this male, then. And potentially redirect the conversation where she wished it to go. Besides, a question urgently requiring an answer had occurred to her and she saw little risk in addressing it now.

“Aisling,” she called softly. The stimfay responded immediately to the summons, maneuvering past Darcassan to alight on her outstretched bracer. “Did you see him?” she asked, her normally neutral voice taking on the sort of pleasant, conversational tone which in her experience often presaged violence.

The kite clicked once. With anyone else, her response would have been decisive and brutal. But Aisling . . . she would wait until they were alone to hear his explanation.

Returning her attention to Darcassan, she leaned back, propping her right foot against the cave wall. A casual pose, allowing her to move with considerable momentum if necessary.

“Who and what am I, then?” she inquired, “Surely you won’t claim not to judge without knowing already?” Amusement slightly colored her words, though whether of a predator toying with prey or of a combatant relishing a bout even she wasn’t quite certain.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:35, Sat 19 Sept 2020.

I dont claim or presume to know anything.  I merely want to know your story and offer my hand in friendship.  As far Aisling here, we've already become friends, havent we?  Darcassan said, as he gently and slowly placed his hand on the kite, finding just the right spot behind its metal wing, to offer a firm, but comforting scratch.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:10, Sat 19 Sept 2020.

Though he seemed to be willfully ignoring it, that was her point precisely: he knew nothing.

"It seems to me you presume a great deal," she stated flatly, pushing off the wall. Enough of this. "You want to know me? Draw that blade. If combat doesn't reveal something to you, you'll not understand any words I could speak. Or leave." Her tone suggested she didn't care what he decided.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:15, Sun 20 Sept 2020.

The blade flashed quicker than Thorn had expected, though even more unexpectedly,  it met her Chakram before she had a chance to fully draw it.  A second dagger quickly made its way to his other hand, which now was swinging in an over-arching arc, clearly allowing Thorn the time to react.

As you wish. Darcassan said with a boyish grin.

Sand spotted the Eladrin working with Corsica, and her green dress was really making her stand out. He chuckled when he noticed that Aleena was almost apoplectic with jealousy, bejeweled as she was, the half elf was not holding a candle to the natural beauty of the elven woman.

The moon only reflects the light of the sun…

He nodded, glad to have played a small part in this display. As he was turning back to his companions of the moment, something that Andraste had said finally reached his consciousness.

Giltris wants to dance with Sand? Sand not know how.

He looked at the other dancers and his analytical mind quickly discerned that it was a series of steps and movements, almost mathematical in nature, that made him nod.

But Sand thinks Sand can learn quickly. Sand accepts.

For the remainder of the rest Andraste was taking for herself, he analyzed the dancing patterns to be able to reproduce them when the paladin would be ready to go back on the floor. That's when Scamp decided to show up, nearly crashing into a wall before settling on the construct's shoulder, hooting loudly in Sand's non existing ear.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:50, Sun 20 Sept 2020.

"Only if you would like too. I would like for you to enjoy this evening and I do not know a more enjoyable activity than dancing." Seeing Alicia standing alone looking out the tunnel towards the outside I turn back to Sand and Erik. "Please excuse me for a moment."

I make my way over to Alicia and stand there quietly for a few moments giving her the opportunity to react to and adjust to my presence. "Good evening neighbour, would you care for some company?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:58, Sun 20 Sept 2020.

Oh hi, Andraste.  Yeah of course, you're always welcome to join me, but you seem to be having a good time dancing and all.  You don't have to worry about me.  I don't want to ruin your night.  I'm okay.  Alicia says as she wipes the tear from her face.

I feel out of sorts tonight, even more the usual. I’ve been following Andraste most of the night, a few steps behind, quiet steps. I know she knows I’m following but doesn’t try to stop me or ask me. I’m trying, desperately to wrap my head around what Thorn said about me, who and what I am. Drow lingers in the back somewhere. I don’t see her but I know she’s there. She’s smart, she know she can’t help me with this. I have to figure it out myself. I think Sand asked me something, about food maybe. I don’t eat much nowadays anyway. I’ll have to apologize later I just can’t focus.

I see Andraste dancing, she quite graceful. I could never. This world, it’s a mess, how do these people celebrate? I don’t understand. I found little reason to celebrate before the end of the world, maybe a little while with my father. Things were good then, I was so happy. Why couldn’t have lasted just a little longer? The world ends and people can still dance. I envy them a little, finding joy in all this misery. I don’t think I can. I don’t dance and have no reason to start.

Besides I have to put these pieces together. So Dark Elves live in a society lead by women and powerful houses lead by Matron Mothers and I’m the first born of a matron so I should have been one. That explains why they won’t let me go but what does it mean to be a Matron Mother? I’m sure their some kind of monster to live in the darkness and rule over Dark Elves. Maybe I’m a monster?

You are not a monster. You know that’s not true. Talking like that, what would your father think?

I wish he was here.

He’s not, but these people are. I to no you need to talk to Thorn to learn more, Andraste to ease your mind, oh and apologize to Sand he offered you food and you stared off. He reached out to you, reach back.

Thanks, what would I do without you?

Starve, alone. Go eat and make friends. I’ll always be here with you but other will help too.