The room around her seemed to steadily pulse just below her senses. She couldn't see so much as feel the steady rhythm of the room, and it unnerved her. Rooms weren't alive, couldn't live and breathe. Yet here they were in a room that seemed to do just that. The chilling miasma that seemed to seep from every part of the room made her shiver, and it took all her might to focus on the man in front of her. Burningwood, the man behind the man. Hell, the man behind every damn thing that they had gone through. Slowly, a new surge of anger started to flow through her, burning away the dread that this place was instilling. He spoke a few words, words that didn't even reach Bryn's ears as she drew back the string of her bow, an arrow of light materializing as she did so. "This is for my family," she muttered as she loosed it. Burning wood managed to easily sidestep it, and with that the real fight started. Her allies all moved in, and although Bryn stayed close enough to see every expression on Burningwood's face, she knew better than to get too close. They had fought before, and if Bryn had learned anything all those years ago, it was that Burningwood always had a trick or two up his sleeve. She could almost feel the echo of pain from her former scar, although the symbol on her hand had long since healed.
Arrow after arrow missed her target, and although her friends were doing a good job holding him off, Bryn felt her self-doubt nagging at her. As she watched Quilli fall, her thoughts became too much. She moved to him, tears steadily falling. This is my fault. I'm useless; I couldn't even help them. It was so comsuming that she almost didn't notice the failt, pearly white glow her tear had taken on, the way her energy seemed to diminish, but also the way Quilli looked as if he hadn't been touched this whole time.
As her friend rose and she continued firing arrows, Bryn's thoughts seemed to grow heavier, physically weighing her down. Each arrow fired, wach easy dodge was met with a new round of mental bombardment. Useless. Worthless. Annoying. A burden. Every new word made her cringe, sometimes visibly. The energy was seeping out of her, and ever so slowly the voice in her head turned from mocking words and became more sinister. They won't even notice if you're gone. They may even celebrate it. Your clan doesn't care. Your friends don't care. No one cares. Eventually, even those shifted. No longer was it you but instead her own voice. I'm not going to be missed... I do nothing but get in the way... I should just die. With that last thought echoing through her head, Bryn notched one last arrow and fired. Her eyes slid closed moments after it hit, and the smallest of smiles slid onto her face. None of her friends were around, none close enough to her her final words as her heart stopped beating.
"Not...completely... useless."
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Friday, September 30, 2011
Turn around, bright eyes
Ashley Gardner
I walk along the avenue
I walk along the avenue
I never thought I'd meet a girl like you
First Name: Ashley
Last Name: Gardner
Nationality: American
Spoken Languages: English
Age/Date of Birth: 21 / May 21st
Looks
With auburn hair and tawny eyes
With auburn hair and tawny eyes
The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through
Eyes: Tawny
Hair: Ashley has straight auburn hair that falls just above her shoulders.
Height: 5'6"
General Appearance: Ashley is a fairly skinny girl. She looks almost frail at times, not at all like someone who belongs behind a drum set. Her arms do show signs of the lifting she has to do on an almost daily basis, but that is the only sign. She is fairly tall, taller than almost everyone else in her band.
Dressing Style: Ashley typically goes more grunge than pop, preferring the ripped jeans and finger less gloves to the bright, shiny materials that infest the pop scene. She'll often dress however her band is when they go on stage.
Personality
I'll fuck you just to make you cry
but a lie + a lie + a lie makes it all just fine
I'll fuck you just to make you cry
but a lie + a lie + a lie makes it all just fine
General Character Traits: To say that Ashley is temperamental is putting it mildly. She is easily put into a bad mood, something that she tries to avoid as often as possible. After her turning, this was only made worse, and she finds herself struggling for control more often than not. That's not to say that she can't appear composed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Ashley tends to seem calm on the outside while her rage stews away inside her. Since she was never one to start a fight (not a physical one at least), she normally cools off in the only other ways she knows how: sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Moderation doesn't exist in her vocabulary, which occasionally leads to some problems.
Although she is easily put into bad moods, it is just as easy to put her in a great mood as well. Her emotions swing wildly, and they hop all over the place. Thankfully none of this matters when she drums, but outside of her performances, it is plain to see. Almost anything can trigger a change in mood, from seeing someone from her past, to hearing a song on the radio. It's annoying at the best of times, and can be a real risk in the worst.
Ashley is a drummer, yes, but outside of that she doesn't really do physical things. She much prefers to be in the social scene, schmoozing or sucking up to the big times than she does anything else. While she does have a little classical musical training, most of her play style involves "feeling it out". This lack of physicality hasn't stopped her before though, and indeed, she's quite brave despite being petite. She stands up for her band-mates, and is the first to put herself in danger if one of them is at risk. Instead of using her fists, Ashley uses her words to fight, her sharp tongue just as important as any sort of weapon.
Likes:
Music: Music is a key part of Ashley's life. It's something that, although her parent's disapproved, she always knew she would end up being a part of. It is one of the few things that can calm her down should she get into a poor mood.
The human body: Ashley has always been fascinated with the human body, especially when used as art. It's always been a facilitator of art, but seeing it used as a canvas is something she enjoys. She doesn't quite know what it is about that, but when she sees something or someone, she gets fixated on it.
Habits/Mannerisms: Ashley isn't the most polite person ever, and it shows. She often forgets to do things like cover her mouth when she yawns, and will talk with food in her mouth. Most of this only happens when she is around people she has known for a while though. She is also often seen twirling something, be it a pen or other writing implement, or a drumstick.
Strengths: Ashley is a brave, adventurous person. She enjoys doing things, and is willing to put her own neck on the line to do it. She's also very friendly when she's in a good mood, and cares about her friends a lot.
Weaknesses: For as brave as she is, Ashley is also very brash, and sometimes will speak without thinking. This doesn't happen often, but it does tend to happen at the worst times. In addition, she can be fairly selfish, and is often irrationally angry. Although she is confident, this sometimes comes off as being smug or cocky. Because of what she is, Ashley becomes transfixed when in the presence of something beautiful. In her case, it's normally someone with what she considers a beautiful body.
Bandmates: Karen Hart - Lead Singer Daeva, Lorraine Singer - Keyboard/Synthesizer Ventrue, Jean Maddox - Guitar Gangrel, Helen Anderson - Bass Guitar Mekhet
Music: Music is a key part of Ashley's life. It's something that, although her parent's disapproved, she always knew she would end up being a part of. It is one of the few things that can calm her down should she get into a poor mood.
The human body: Ashley has always been fascinated with the human body, especially when used as art. It's always been a facilitator of art, but seeing it used as a canvas is something she enjoys. She doesn't quite know what it is about that, but when she sees something or someone, she gets fixated on it.
Habits/Mannerisms: Ashley isn't the most polite person ever, and it shows. She often forgets to do things like cover her mouth when she yawns, and will talk with food in her mouth. Most of this only happens when she is around people she has known for a while though. She is also often seen twirling something, be it a pen or other writing implement, or a drumstick.
Strengths: Ashley is a brave, adventurous person. She enjoys doing things, and is willing to put her own neck on the line to do it. She's also very friendly when she's in a good mood, and cares about her friends a lot.
Weaknesses: For as brave as she is, Ashley is also very brash, and sometimes will speak without thinking. This doesn't happen often, but it does tend to happen at the worst times. In addition, she can be fairly selfish, and is often irrationally angry. Although she is confident, this sometimes comes off as being smug or cocky. Because of what she is, Ashley becomes transfixed when in the presence of something beautiful. In her case, it's normally someone with what she considers a beautiful body.
Personal History
They resigned to what their fate is
But not us, no not us. We're far too young and clever
Background Story: It wasn't planned, although one doesn't normally plan for things like this. Ashley was out celebrating her 21st birthday the best way she knew how: drinking and watching a local band play at a bar. Sure, she had been drinking long before this, and the band there wasn't killer or anything, but legally being there felt nice. And there was something about the lead singer that captivated her. So, just like every other time they played, Ashley found herself humming along and sipping her beer. Only this time wouldn't end like every other time. When the band had long since finished and people started filtering out, Ashley felt someone sit next to her. It didn't take long for the two to strike up a conversation. The singer introduced herself as Karen. That's where things got hazy.
Ashley rarely drunk herself into a stupor, and the fact that what happened after Karen introduced herself is hazy at best irritates her. It's one of many parts to her past that she can't quite remember, but that particular piece is doubly damning, because that was when she Turned. Details eluded her, and Ashley tried many times to pull things from her sire, but it never happened. She soon moved in with the other band mates, since just about anything was better than living on her own with her new... "condition" to deal with. The others helped her a lot, although they didn't always see eye to eye. This became very clear soon after Ashley was introduced to the wonderful underground world of vampires. It had happened quickly, although this time she remembered every detail.
He had been in an alley way, drunk on something and stumbling around. It was sickening to say the least, seeing him like this. Ashley had sneered at him, almost turning away to do something else when memories came to her. Memories of him hitting on her not ever a week earlier. Of offering to "show her a good time" and making lewd gestures. Surely he hadn't thought much of it then, but now she'd make sure he didn't forget it. A malicious smirk appeared. She'd have fun with this one.
It shouldn't have surprised her that Karen would find out. After all, she seemed to know everything that Ashley did. Sure, the younger Daeva knew enough to look guilty, to play the part. Because if she didn't, Karen would be even more mad, and that was never good. But he had deserved it, that much stayed firmly planted in her mind. She was going to do something anyway, so why couldn't she have a little bit of fun before she did? After all, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, or Ashley a dull girl.
A mere month after taking up residence with the other girls, Ashley was offered a spot as full time drummer. The old drummer was moving, and Ashley had proven herself multiple times over. She gladly took the position, glad to finally be on stage where she wanted to be. Sure, it was no big time gig, but it was a start. She had been playing music since she was a little girl, and now was her time to shine. Plus it meant the others trusted her enough to offer the spot as well as let her stay with them. Yeah, the place was cramped, and it wasn't in the best part of town, but it was a place to sleep and a crew to hang with. That was good enough for her.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme
It had been a long day, and it wasn't even over yet. "Hey thar, p'rty lady." Emily tried to hide her sneer as she stepped up to the bar, earning the attention of quite a few other people there. Sure, it wasn't the best idea to split up from her pack, and it would earn her more than a little punishment. But they weren't getting anything done, and it wasn't like she was helping anyway. They never let me contribute anyway, she thought, thinking back. How exactly she had come to be the lowest on the ladder was beyond her, and how her few shots at helping always managed to turn into something worse... Maybe it was karma. Maybe she shouldn't have ever left the FBI. At least there she had been someone. An up and coming agent on her way to getting a team all her own. Now what was she? Some Omega out in the middle of god forsaken no where, trying to find some new pack-mates who somehow managed to start off higher on the ladder than she had been given the chance to. And the idiots in here were still trying to pester her.
But maybe she should have paid attention to the pestering, because it was better than the blindside that hit her next. And when she woke up with one hell of a headache the next day, she knew that splitting up with her pack really wasn't the best idea. Trying to escape a week later probably wasn't either. But Emily wasn't really known for her bright ideas. She just tried to get shit done. If that meant breaking out of here her own way and wandering back on her own, so be it.
But maybe she should have paid attention to the pestering, because it was better than the blindside that hit her next. And when she woke up with one hell of a headache the next day, she knew that splitting up with her pack really wasn't the best idea. Trying to escape a week later probably wasn't either. But Emily wasn't really known for her bright ideas. She just tried to get shit done. If that meant breaking out of here her own way and wandering back on her own, so be it.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The bulls are sedated, and this fight's fixed
"So do you understand now?" Bryn continued to avoid Aran's eyes. She had been avoiding them for almost the whole second half of her story, and she knew that he could tell something was off. And it wasn't just her family this time. She actively avoided certain things. Like the confrontation in the ruins. Like her run in with the people of Evermeet. Like the fact that she wasn't nearly as redeemable as he liked to think she was. He was too forgiving, and the more she looked, the more she saw some of her brother in him. And that just made her sad, because she had only come to terms with the fact that she saw some of Killian in Stalar as well. So that made three people she would be letting down: Aran, Stalar, and Killian by proxy. That was why she had left in the first place. So that she would stop letting people down.
Aran's words finally drew her out of her thoughts. "If you want, we could work on decoding the impossible again." His voice was soft, and the hiss of draconic was a comfort. It was so different compared to the harsh sounds of dwarven that she had been listening to. Even common felt weird to her after she spoke for long enough in her friend's native tongue. She nodded slightly, and the papers suddenly appeared in her line of sight.
Maybe it was the fact that she had just relived the last ten years of her life. Maybe it was the fact that friends were on the mind, or maybe it was the strong drink running through her veins. But something seemed to click, and the symbols on the paper seemed to make sense. Not literally, though. No, they were still just as unreadable as ever. But it dawned on her, the missing piece. "This is a code." Aran looked at her like she had lost her mind.
"Yes, we've established that."
"No, no. Like it's not just encoded. It's a code itself. We have the code and not the key. And it's not just that, but the encoding for the code is in another language translated into another language. There's got to be like two other layers of languages on top of whatever it started as. Look, it looks like regular Iokharic script, right? But when translated, it makes no sense, and it seems really... weird, right? Flowy and flowery and shit? I was wondering why that seemed odd. It's because we're translating into common, when it should be elven! Or whatever they write in." Bryn beamed and Aran just continued looking at her as though she had taken one too many blows to the head. She pointed to the other parchment, the one they had written their makeshift translation on. "That right there. I was wondering where it seemed familiar. Try saying it." There was no need, though, because she attempted the very thing a second later. "It's like one of the words my friend used to say. Whatever this was, it was important enough for someone to either learn a bunch of languages to keep it from prying eyes, or they had a lot of people helping. Because no one just knows a lot of languages." Her mind supplied Stalar, but she ignored it and amended her statement. "Most people don't just know a lot of languages. It's not something you really think of." She saw recognition in Aran's eyes as well, and she knew that they had stumbled onto something.
"You're right. But how do we do this then?"
"I got it. But it's gonna take time. And energy. And you're gonna have to trust me. This wedding comes first, because honestly, I'm still really nervous about it. This has been a nice distraction, but now I have to really focus and make sure I don't screw this up." She left out the again. Aran nodded in agreement, and she smiled. Once the wedding was over and the excitement blew over, she'd ask Stalar for help with all of this. He knew a bunch of odd languages, and since one was Elven, she knew that he could help. It was exciting. Almost like stealing and disarming traps. Almost.
Her thoughts were far from the code, however, when the wedding occurred. They stayed off of it when she followed Rockwell to Goldpoint. And it may as well have been in a different plane of existence when they were fighting off the giants during what should have been the honeymoon. What a way to spend a wedding.
Aran's words finally drew her out of her thoughts. "If you want, we could work on decoding the impossible again." His voice was soft, and the hiss of draconic was a comfort. It was so different compared to the harsh sounds of dwarven that she had been listening to. Even common felt weird to her after she spoke for long enough in her friend's native tongue. She nodded slightly, and the papers suddenly appeared in her line of sight.
Maybe it was the fact that she had just relived the last ten years of her life. Maybe it was the fact that friends were on the mind, or maybe it was the strong drink running through her veins. But something seemed to click, and the symbols on the paper seemed to make sense. Not literally, though. No, they were still just as unreadable as ever. But it dawned on her, the missing piece. "This is a code." Aran looked at her like she had lost her mind.
"Yes, we've established that."
"No, no. Like it's not just encoded. It's a code itself. We have the code and not the key. And it's not just that, but the encoding for the code is in another language translated into another language. There's got to be like two other layers of languages on top of whatever it started as. Look, it looks like regular Iokharic script, right? But when translated, it makes no sense, and it seems really... weird, right? Flowy and flowery and shit? I was wondering why that seemed odd. It's because we're translating into common, when it should be elven! Or whatever they write in." Bryn beamed and Aran just continued looking at her as though she had taken one too many blows to the head. She pointed to the other parchment, the one they had written their makeshift translation on. "That right there. I was wondering where it seemed familiar. Try saying it." There was no need, though, because she attempted the very thing a second later. "It's like one of the words my friend used to say. Whatever this was, it was important enough for someone to either learn a bunch of languages to keep it from prying eyes, or they had a lot of people helping. Because no one just knows a lot of languages." Her mind supplied Stalar, but she ignored it and amended her statement. "Most people don't just know a lot of languages. It's not something you really think of." She saw recognition in Aran's eyes as well, and she knew that they had stumbled onto something.
"You're right. But how do we do this then?"
"I got it. But it's gonna take time. And energy. And you're gonna have to trust me. This wedding comes first, because honestly, I'm still really nervous about it. This has been a nice distraction, but now I have to really focus and make sure I don't screw this up." She left out the again. Aran nodded in agreement, and she smiled. Once the wedding was over and the excitement blew over, she'd ask Stalar for help with all of this. He knew a bunch of odd languages, and since one was Elven, she knew that he could help. It was exciting. Almost like stealing and disarming traps. Almost.
Her thoughts were far from the code, however, when the wedding occurred. They stayed off of it when she followed Rockwell to Goldpoint. And it may as well have been in a different plane of existence when they were fighting off the giants during what should have been the honeymoon. What a way to spend a wedding.
I'm a mascot for what you've become. & I love the mayhem more than the love.
She had seen cities before, but Bryn had never seen anything quite like Evermeet. Small, squat taverns sat in between large buildings held together by magic. One building was twenty times taller than her, and she couldn't even see the top if she bent backwards. It was invigorating and dream-crushing at the same time. Just the kind of place she needed.
The people in said city were about as nice as the atmosphere. Most people ran into her and then ran on, not even mumbling an apology. It was as if even that recognition would be a burden to their apparently busy lives. The change of pace threw her off kilter a bit. And it didn't get better as the day slowly shifted into night. The normally stunning display of oranges and pinks that signaled the end of the day were covered by buildings and smoke, the by product of some spell or another. The result was a dreary mix of brown and grey that honestly made Bryn feel depressed and a tad homesick. But she had gone come to the big city for a reason. And experience, but that was looking less important now. No, now she was focused on two things: getting the information she was looking for, and seeing if any of her friends had made it here. If she could find one of them, maybe she could travel with them for a bit. It would make her feel better after having been away for so long. Something in the back of her mind was itching, telling her that there was no way things were finished, that at very least there had to be others like her & Rockwell.
It took her over a month to finish her search. Over a month of stopping in every arcane store, scouring every library and archive, of visiting and talking to every magic and ritual caster she could find. None of them had what she was looking for. There were a few names she hadn't gone over yet, but her hopes were starting to fall. She looked across the counter and listened to yet another shopkeeper drone on about the period it was from, the fact that she shouldn't have things like this, this and that. It was boring. Bryn interrupted him with a sigh and waved her hand. "Look, can you read it or not? Because if you can't read it and tell me what it is, I'd like to know." The shopkeeper scoffed at her.
"Can I read it? This is older than either of us can imagine, and you ask if I can read it. Do you even know what it is you're holding?"
"I'm pretty sure you just lectured me on it for the past ten minutes. Look, I really want to get something to eat. I'm starving and running out of patience. Can. You. Read. It." A beat, then a sigh.
"No. And I don't think you'll find anyone in this city who can. But you might want to try... Here." He scribbled something onto a piece of paper. When he handed it over, Bryn felt a twinge of recognition, but she couldn't place it exactly. She knew the place written down, but didn't know why she knew it. "There's a guy there who may be of more help. He may not be there, but he shouldn't be hard to find. Only arcane user in that or any other nearby village." Bryn thanked him and left, trying to figure out why the name looked so familiar. It wasn't until she was halfway to the town that it hit her like harder than Rockwell's hammer or Emeire's spells. But she continued on. "Well, this is just going to ruin the surprise now, won't it?"
Bryn hadn't stepped foot into Hartshire since... well, since the incident with the robbers. There was no telling how Aran would react, but Bryn was sure it would be just like old times. He'd be patient, understanding, and she'd just sit there and look as though she had been caught sneaking sweets. Again. It had been a common occurrence when she had lived there. Her hand was poised at the knocker, and although she wanted to just get on with it, something stopped her. Her heart was almost certainly racing around her lungs and through her stomach, doing laps that she had long lost count of. She could have thanked the gods that the papers were in her bag, because her hands were sweating and she could have sworn she saw one shake. The great Bryn Swiftrunner, nervous to meet an old friend. It was almost too good, but she couldn't really appreciate the moment right now, seeing as how she was living it. Before she had a change to act, however, the door swung open and a young lady walked into her. "Oh I'm so sorry, I wasn't... Bryn? Wild Woman Bryn? Well, I'll be! You remember me, right? Little Charissa? Probably not, I was only about seven last you saw me. Oh, I'll let you go, but it's good to see you back!" Her words were a jumbled to Bryn's ears, but Bryn somehow managed to separate them from the noises that she was producing to show that she was indeed listening, and did indeed remember. That's when Charissa decided to do something before Bryn could stop her; she turned back toward the inside and yelled for Aran. "You got a visitor, Ar! Little Bryn's back."
Time seemed to slow down as Bryn watched events unfold. She gave Charissa one last hug and wished her and her brother well (apparently he was off adventuring now), and suddenly copper scales filled her vision. "Bryn. It's been a long time." Everything was the same. It was as if Bryn had been transported back over 10 years to when she was still living with her friend. Before she had gone on grand adventures. Before she found and left her clan again, and certainly before she was the mess she was now. Her feet suddenly became very interesting, and she shifted from one to the other with a nervous energy that seemed unsuited to her.
"Um, hi. I got you something. I hope you like it but I can't find anyone to translate it, and that's actually why I was here, and this isn't going as planned at all and I'm sorry but I tried I can't believe it's really you and you aren't mad at me because I'd be mad at me why aren't you mad at me and the town people still remember me this is - " her long winded rant was cut short by deep laughter. It had started as a chuckle somewhere in the middle of her speech and ended up full blown laughter.
"Bryn, slow down. You're going to confuse me more than I already am. I got that this is mine," he motioned to the papers he now held, "and I got that you're nervous. But that's about all I got." Bryn felt herself go red, and just nodded. He gestured inside and the two of them quickly found themselves seated in the kitchen-slash-workshop. "Please, continue. And slowly this time." She repeated all the information, leaving out details such as where she had come from and where the papers had been before finding their way into her possession. In true Aran fashion, he sat through the whole thing and just nodded, listening and apparently deep in thought. The two of them bounced ideas off each other as to what the papers were, and why they had been intact for all these years when they were obviously so old. It was almost just like old times.
It took another two years to get even close to breaking the code that was in the papers. It was odd, because Aran had all but confirmed it to be Dragonborn text, but even then neither of them could understand it. By that time, Bryn had fallen back into the habit of living with another person. She found comfort in the small village, telling stories both to the kids and to the people who were kids when she left, and were now young adults. Some of them even had their own kids, and those were her favorite. It was odd, because seeing them all grown up should have reminded her of her own age, but she didn't really feel any different. Maybe it was because she had spent the time travelling and training. Or maybe it was another perk of Sehanine's grace. She didn't bother to think too much of it though. By the time they had made any progress on the papers, she was more worried about other matters.
"Aran, what do I do? What do you even wear to a wedding? A DWARVEN wedding! How in the gods name am I supposed to know what to wear to a DWARVEN WEDDING?" Bryn paced about nervously, not wanting to screw this up for her friend. Sure, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. But that didn't change what they had all gone through together, and it didn't change the fact that she considered Rockwell one of her closest companions. Same with everyone she had traveled with. Aran chuckled at her antics.
"Well, you could research it a little. The wedding isn't for another few months, Bryn. You have time. Plenty of time to figure out what you're going to wear, and what you're going to do. And I'll work on the scroll." Bryn whipped around faster than either of them thought was possible, and for a second she was worried about whiplash. But only a second.
"Oh no," she growled, sending a glare at the still chuckling Dragonborn. "If I have to suffer through this, so do you. How amusing do you find it now." An eyebrow ridge quirked up and she smirked in response. They spoke with their actions, and finally she won, earning a sigh from the older dragon. "I suggest you find something to wear too. Nice robes or something. The journey to Stonehaven from here is a good month if we're lucky, so that leaves us just a couple months to figure this out before we have to prepare and leave." Her friend just nodded, and as he stood to leave, hesitated. What Bryn often called "the look" passed over his face. It was that look he got when he wanted to say something but thought better of it. It was a look she had seen on others before too, but it would always be his look first, and Bryn was glad when he let it go and left the room. She sunk into a chair and sighed. It wouldn't be long before he asked about her adventures. He had probably heard stories from the townsfolk, but that wouldn't be enough. That much she knew. Aran was inquisitive, he loved asking questions and finding answers. It would only be a matter of time before he decided to ask her about her own past. And although she didn't mind telling him, Bryn didn't think she could handle reliving all of that right now. It would more likely break her than help her.
The two of them skirted around the issue for the remainder of their time together in Hartshire, and continued to do so during the journey to Stonehaven. The question of just when he would ask haunted Bryn for the next few months, and when he finally cornered her in a Stonehaven tavern, she had already resigned herself to her fate.
The people in said city were about as nice as the atmosphere. Most people ran into her and then ran on, not even mumbling an apology. It was as if even that recognition would be a burden to their apparently busy lives. The change of pace threw her off kilter a bit. And it didn't get better as the day slowly shifted into night. The normally stunning display of oranges and pinks that signaled the end of the day were covered by buildings and smoke, the by product of some spell or another. The result was a dreary mix of brown and grey that honestly made Bryn feel depressed and a tad homesick. But she had gone come to the big city for a reason. And experience, but that was looking less important now. No, now she was focused on two things: getting the information she was looking for, and seeing if any of her friends had made it here. If she could find one of them, maybe she could travel with them for a bit. It would make her feel better after having been away for so long. Something in the back of her mind was itching, telling her that there was no way things were finished, that at very least there had to be others like her & Rockwell.
It took her over a month to finish her search. Over a month of stopping in every arcane store, scouring every library and archive, of visiting and talking to every magic and ritual caster she could find. None of them had what she was looking for. There were a few names she hadn't gone over yet, but her hopes were starting to fall. She looked across the counter and listened to yet another shopkeeper drone on about the period it was from, the fact that she shouldn't have things like this, this and that. It was boring. Bryn interrupted him with a sigh and waved her hand. "Look, can you read it or not? Because if you can't read it and tell me what it is, I'd like to know." The shopkeeper scoffed at her.
"Can I read it? This is older than either of us can imagine, and you ask if I can read it. Do you even know what it is you're holding?"
"I'm pretty sure you just lectured me on it for the past ten minutes. Look, I really want to get something to eat. I'm starving and running out of patience. Can. You. Read. It." A beat, then a sigh.
"No. And I don't think you'll find anyone in this city who can. But you might want to try... Here." He scribbled something onto a piece of paper. When he handed it over, Bryn felt a twinge of recognition, but she couldn't place it exactly. She knew the place written down, but didn't know why she knew it. "There's a guy there who may be of more help. He may not be there, but he shouldn't be hard to find. Only arcane user in that or any other nearby village." Bryn thanked him and left, trying to figure out why the name looked so familiar. It wasn't until she was halfway to the town that it hit her like harder than Rockwell's hammer or Emeire's spells. But she continued on. "Well, this is just going to ruin the surprise now, won't it?"
Bryn hadn't stepped foot into Hartshire since... well, since the incident with the robbers. There was no telling how Aran would react, but Bryn was sure it would be just like old times. He'd be patient, understanding, and she'd just sit there and look as though she had been caught sneaking sweets. Again. It had been a common occurrence when she had lived there. Her hand was poised at the knocker, and although she wanted to just get on with it, something stopped her. Her heart was almost certainly racing around her lungs and through her stomach, doing laps that she had long lost count of. She could have thanked the gods that the papers were in her bag, because her hands were sweating and she could have sworn she saw one shake. The great Bryn Swiftrunner, nervous to meet an old friend. It was almost too good, but she couldn't really appreciate the moment right now, seeing as how she was living it. Before she had a change to act, however, the door swung open and a young lady walked into her. "Oh I'm so sorry, I wasn't... Bryn? Wild Woman Bryn? Well, I'll be! You remember me, right? Little Charissa? Probably not, I was only about seven last you saw me. Oh, I'll let you go, but it's good to see you back!" Her words were a jumbled to Bryn's ears, but Bryn somehow managed to separate them from the noises that she was producing to show that she was indeed listening, and did indeed remember. That's when Charissa decided to do something before Bryn could stop her; she turned back toward the inside and yelled for Aran. "You got a visitor, Ar! Little Bryn's back."
Time seemed to slow down as Bryn watched events unfold. She gave Charissa one last hug and wished her and her brother well (apparently he was off adventuring now), and suddenly copper scales filled her vision. "Bryn. It's been a long time." Everything was the same. It was as if Bryn had been transported back over 10 years to when she was still living with her friend. Before she had gone on grand adventures. Before she found and left her clan again, and certainly before she was the mess she was now. Her feet suddenly became very interesting, and she shifted from one to the other with a nervous energy that seemed unsuited to her.
"Um, hi. I got you something. I hope you like it but I can't find anyone to translate it, and that's actually why I was here, and this isn't going as planned at all and I'm sorry but I tried I can't believe it's really you and you aren't mad at me because I'd be mad at me why aren't you mad at me and the town people still remember me this is - " her long winded rant was cut short by deep laughter. It had started as a chuckle somewhere in the middle of her speech and ended up full blown laughter.
"Bryn, slow down. You're going to confuse me more than I already am. I got that this is mine," he motioned to the papers he now held, "and I got that you're nervous. But that's about all I got." Bryn felt herself go red, and just nodded. He gestured inside and the two of them quickly found themselves seated in the kitchen-slash-workshop. "Please, continue. And slowly this time." She repeated all the information, leaving out details such as where she had come from and where the papers had been before finding their way into her possession. In true Aran fashion, he sat through the whole thing and just nodded, listening and apparently deep in thought. The two of them bounced ideas off each other as to what the papers were, and why they had been intact for all these years when they were obviously so old. It was almost just like old times.
It took another two years to get even close to breaking the code that was in the papers. It was odd, because Aran had all but confirmed it to be Dragonborn text, but even then neither of them could understand it. By that time, Bryn had fallen back into the habit of living with another person. She found comfort in the small village, telling stories both to the kids and to the people who were kids when she left, and were now young adults. Some of them even had their own kids, and those were her favorite. It was odd, because seeing them all grown up should have reminded her of her own age, but she didn't really feel any different. Maybe it was because she had spent the time travelling and training. Or maybe it was another perk of Sehanine's grace. She didn't bother to think too much of it though. By the time they had made any progress on the papers, she was more worried about other matters.
"Aran, what do I do? What do you even wear to a wedding? A DWARVEN wedding! How in the gods name am I supposed to know what to wear to a DWARVEN WEDDING?" Bryn paced about nervously, not wanting to screw this up for her friend. Sure, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. But that didn't change what they had all gone through together, and it didn't change the fact that she considered Rockwell one of her closest companions. Same with everyone she had traveled with. Aran chuckled at her antics.
"Well, you could research it a little. The wedding isn't for another few months, Bryn. You have time. Plenty of time to figure out what you're going to wear, and what you're going to do. And I'll work on the scroll." Bryn whipped around faster than either of them thought was possible, and for a second she was worried about whiplash. But only a second.
"Oh no," she growled, sending a glare at the still chuckling Dragonborn. "If I have to suffer through this, so do you. How amusing do you find it now." An eyebrow ridge quirked up and she smirked in response. They spoke with their actions, and finally she won, earning a sigh from the older dragon. "I suggest you find something to wear too. Nice robes or something. The journey to Stonehaven from here is a good month if we're lucky, so that leaves us just a couple months to figure this out before we have to prepare and leave." Her friend just nodded, and as he stood to leave, hesitated. What Bryn often called "the look" passed over his face. It was that look he got when he wanted to say something but thought better of it. It was a look she had seen on others before too, but it would always be his look first, and Bryn was glad when he let it go and left the room. She sunk into a chair and sighed. It wouldn't be long before he asked about her adventures. He had probably heard stories from the townsfolk, but that wouldn't be enough. That much she knew. Aran was inquisitive, he loved asking questions and finding answers. It would only be a matter of time before he decided to ask her about her own past. And although she didn't mind telling him, Bryn didn't think she could handle reliving all of that right now. It would more likely break her than help her.
The two of them skirted around the issue for the remainder of their time together in Hartshire, and continued to do so during the journey to Stonehaven. The question of just when he would ask haunted Bryn for the next few months, and when he finally cornered her in a Stonehaven tavern, she had already resigned herself to her fate.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost
It was hot out, that was the first thing she noticed. And not just the normal heat. After all, she was in the desert. Hot was normal.
It had been two years since she left her clan again, but Bryn was gone. She had traveled around a bit, undergoing her own form of "training" as she called it. There had been jokes about her recklessness leading to setting off traps in a very... unusual manner. But her skill was there. Now she just had to work on finding the traps, and learning more wouldn't hurt too much either. So that's exactly what she had started doing. She started in Southvale, making sure to stop and say hi to old friends before moving on. After that, a quick romp through elven territory nearby and off to the desert she went. The Greysand Oasis was where she currently resided, and it really earned its name. Maybe it was minerals in the water, or maybe some sort of magic was at play, but the sand was always ash grey. Not that Bryn bothered enough to actually look up why it was that way. She just went with it. Because that wasn't why she was here. No, she was here for the ruins. Just outside the oasis city is where the real fun was. Some of the ruins had been cleared long ago, little more than tourist attractions meant to draw in trade and commerce. A little further out is where the treasure was, and with it, traps. Lots and lots of traps.
She really should have payed more attention to where she was going though. Maybe researched a little into Dragonborn architecture, since they were the ruins of an ancient Dragonborn civilization. The part of her that missed her companions told her that Aran would have been a valuable asset, but she ignored it. Just like she ignored it when the gang had split up, and when she had left her family for a second time. She was good at that. But no, instead she was here, pinned to a wall, trying to figure out if the hallway in front of her would have blades or arrows. Her gut said blades, but only because she knew Leonidas liked them. For all she knew, they liked neither and acid would spew out at her when she tried to walk. Bryn shuddered at the thought and tried to find the trigger. Keyword: tried. Before she had a chance to actually do anything, some halfwit looking for treasure tried to walk down the path. She blocked him, giving him a sturdy glare. "There's a trap. So unless you want to be mince meat, you'll stay put for a second, sparky." The traveler (a human) just laughed at her and tried to continue on. Her eyes flashed once in irritation before she reigned it in. In the blink of an eye, her dagger was out and pinning his shirt to the limestone walls.
"Who do you think you are? I would like to go down here, and no matter how cute you are, pint-sized, you won't stop me." Again her eyes flashed. This guy was trying her nerves, and she had half a mind to let him just trigger the trap for her. It would certainly make life easier. But instead she held up a finger and threw one of her coins onto the trigger stone. Just as she had hoped, it was heavy enough, and arrows started shooting through holes in the walls. The human just watched, wide eyed as puffs of air disturbed his bangs. As the arrows died down, Bryn pried her dagger loose with a smirk.
"That's why I was stopping you. But if you'd like to continue, than please do. By all means, I'm no longer stopping you. But at least let me finish my work, alright?" She ignored his comments, her mind slipping into diagrams and tools. She knew the stone was the trigger, but she couldn't figure out quite how it would reload. There had to be at least another trigger, because the stone she had thrown her coin onto was still tripped. Finally her guest's words reached her.
"The off colored stones. But that doesn't stop the actual arrows." Her eyebrows shot up at his comment, and she could have smacked herself for not realizing it earlier. The off-color stones were the safe stones, something for someone who needed to get by but didn't want to fully disarm the trap. With careful precision and practiced ease, Bryn hopped from stone to stone until she reached the other end of the trap. Or at least, what she hoped was the other end of the trap. It had something for her to do, and that was enough.
The nice things about ruins was that they tended to be falling apart. This one was no exception. Large portions of the walls had holes, and she was staring into one now. Only, instead of more chambers like most of the holes had, this one was full of firing mechanisms for the arrows. "Why, hello there. Let's just have a look see," she murmured, and her hands went to work. A few minutes (and annoying shouts from her guest) later, the trap was done. She had managed to disarm it without setting it off. Well, without setting it off on accident (she wouldn't count the coin thing.) "It's safe. Keep the coin, maybe it'll bring you luck. You're gonna need it if you keep blundering forward like that." He looked less than impressed.
"I would have been fine, I'm sure. Besides, you look like you need it more. Not many halflings decide to wander through ruins on their lonesome. You sure you don't want a little company?" Bryn gave the human a once over, although she already knew her answer.
"Are you kidding? You were about to stumble into a trap, you're wearing leather, so you don't expect anything to go wrong. Either that, or you really can't get much else, because it's always better to be prepared. And you have no clue where you're going, because the treasure rooms aren't this way, but left at the last fork. I know, I looted them. So it seems like you need my help, not the other way around." A sneer managed to find its way onto her face as she spoke, and Bryn couldn't help but let it stay. She didn't let her eyes go haywire, but she was almost certain her body language spoke volumes about her feelings right now. "Now one of two things can happen: I can let you go now and we forget you ever stumbled across me, or you keep running that mouth of yours and I find a trap that hasn't been triggered or disarmed to shove you into. Because you're testing what little patience I have left. I have been in these damn ruins for the last two days for training, I have had next to no sleep, I want real food not rations, and I'm sick of all this damn sand," she ended, her words coming out more like snarls. She just wanted peace and quiet to do her thing, to look around and maybe find some cool stuff that she could actually use. He was having none of it though, opting instead to be offended by her words.
"Excuse me? I must have you know, even leather is extremely hot in this weather, and full armor would be worse. You're in leather and you seem to be just fine. And who says I'm looking for treasure. How can I even know you actually did what you said. Two days? For 'training'? I think you're full of Minotaur shit and just won't accept it. Who do you think you are, pretending to play the lone adventurer?" His words piled up on Bryn, and she could feel herself snap. It had been four days (two in the ruins and two for travel), she had been plagued with nightmares (which was currently normal) and thus had no sleep, the rations sucked and she wanted real food, sand was getting in her boots, and worst of all she had to deal with this asshole. Her eyes didn't glow with their normal vigor, instead casting an almost eerie, blood red light just in front of her face, illuminating what little bit was in shadow. Ire and some irrational rage seared through her, and before she quite had time to process it, her dagger was back out and pointed.
"Who do I think I am? You really want to ask that? I think I'm the one who's faced down countless creatures you've only seen in your nightmares. I think I'm the only one of us here who's looked death in the eye and lived to tell the tale. I think I'm the one who's been in this desert for a god's damned week prepping in the heat before I even touched these god's forsaken ruins. And I think that, of the two people here, I'm the one who has the map. You know, the one from the archives in the city? No, you wouldn't. Because no one goes to the damn archives. How do I know? Because if they had, they would have known I have the only copy of said map." She left out the part about stealing it, because the nice people in the building hadn't wanted to let her make a copy. That was better left unsaid. "So I think you'd best turn around and walk home, green stalk. Because I think you're out of your league." Before Bryn could do much else, her feet were walking away, through the hallway, past the (now disarmed) arrow trap, and to the next area.
It was a good hour before she calmed down even a little bit. Thankfully there weren't any living things she could take it out on. Well, unless reanimated skeletons could be counted as living, but she didn't count them. Finally she found what she had come there for (besides the traps, that is). In one of the far corners of the ruins there had been an archive, or a library of some sort. And even though she hadn't seen him since before her adventures, somehow Bryn knew that if she could get one of these books for Aran, he'd be grateful. Not that she cared. No, she just wanted to do something for an old friend. He had been on her mind a lot recently, and had their last encounter not ended... well, she just was hesitant to go back. Maybe she'd leave it on his doorstep with a note. And maybe the gods would take pity on her and the earth would swallow her whole before that actually happened. Either way, she found a room that seemed to be mostly intact, and they appeared to be the right area according to the map. Quickly taking whatever was still intact after all these years, Bryn set up the instant camp and called it a night.
For the first time in two years, Bryn didn't see the faces of her family in her dreams, wasn't haunted by the derisive laughter of fate, couldn't feel the pitying stares of her former friends and companions. Instead she slept more soundly than she had in a very long time.
It had been two years since she left her clan again, but Bryn was gone. She had traveled around a bit, undergoing her own form of "training" as she called it. There had been jokes about her recklessness leading to setting off traps in a very... unusual manner. But her skill was there. Now she just had to work on finding the traps, and learning more wouldn't hurt too much either. So that's exactly what she had started doing. She started in Southvale, making sure to stop and say hi to old friends before moving on. After that, a quick romp through elven territory nearby and off to the desert she went. The Greysand Oasis was where she currently resided, and it really earned its name. Maybe it was minerals in the water, or maybe some sort of magic was at play, but the sand was always ash grey. Not that Bryn bothered enough to actually look up why it was that way. She just went with it. Because that wasn't why she was here. No, she was here for the ruins. Just outside the oasis city is where the real fun was. Some of the ruins had been cleared long ago, little more than tourist attractions meant to draw in trade and commerce. A little further out is where the treasure was, and with it, traps. Lots and lots of traps.
She really should have payed more attention to where she was going though. Maybe researched a little into Dragonborn architecture, since they were the ruins of an ancient Dragonborn civilization. The part of her that missed her companions told her that Aran would have been a valuable asset, but she ignored it. Just like she ignored it when the gang had split up, and when she had left her family for a second time. She was good at that. But no, instead she was here, pinned to a wall, trying to figure out if the hallway in front of her would have blades or arrows. Her gut said blades, but only because she knew Leonidas liked them. For all she knew, they liked neither and acid would spew out at her when she tried to walk. Bryn shuddered at the thought and tried to find the trigger. Keyword: tried. Before she had a chance to actually do anything, some halfwit looking for treasure tried to walk down the path. She blocked him, giving him a sturdy glare. "There's a trap. So unless you want to be mince meat, you'll stay put for a second, sparky." The traveler (a human) just laughed at her and tried to continue on. Her eyes flashed once in irritation before she reigned it in. In the blink of an eye, her dagger was out and pinning his shirt to the limestone walls.
"Who do you think you are? I would like to go down here, and no matter how cute you are, pint-sized, you won't stop me." Again her eyes flashed. This guy was trying her nerves, and she had half a mind to let him just trigger the trap for her. It would certainly make life easier. But instead she held up a finger and threw one of her coins onto the trigger stone. Just as she had hoped, it was heavy enough, and arrows started shooting through holes in the walls. The human just watched, wide eyed as puffs of air disturbed his bangs. As the arrows died down, Bryn pried her dagger loose with a smirk.
"That's why I was stopping you. But if you'd like to continue, than please do. By all means, I'm no longer stopping you. But at least let me finish my work, alright?" She ignored his comments, her mind slipping into diagrams and tools. She knew the stone was the trigger, but she couldn't figure out quite how it would reload. There had to be at least another trigger, because the stone she had thrown her coin onto was still tripped. Finally her guest's words reached her.
"The off colored stones. But that doesn't stop the actual arrows." Her eyebrows shot up at his comment, and she could have smacked herself for not realizing it earlier. The off-color stones were the safe stones, something for someone who needed to get by but didn't want to fully disarm the trap. With careful precision and practiced ease, Bryn hopped from stone to stone until she reached the other end of the trap. Or at least, what she hoped was the other end of the trap. It had something for her to do, and that was enough.
The nice things about ruins was that they tended to be falling apart. This one was no exception. Large portions of the walls had holes, and she was staring into one now. Only, instead of more chambers like most of the holes had, this one was full of firing mechanisms for the arrows. "Why, hello there. Let's just have a look see," she murmured, and her hands went to work. A few minutes (and annoying shouts from her guest) later, the trap was done. She had managed to disarm it without setting it off. Well, without setting it off on accident (she wouldn't count the coin thing.) "It's safe. Keep the coin, maybe it'll bring you luck. You're gonna need it if you keep blundering forward like that." He looked less than impressed.
"I would have been fine, I'm sure. Besides, you look like you need it more. Not many halflings decide to wander through ruins on their lonesome. You sure you don't want a little company?" Bryn gave the human a once over, although she already knew her answer.
"Are you kidding? You were about to stumble into a trap, you're wearing leather, so you don't expect anything to go wrong. Either that, or you really can't get much else, because it's always better to be prepared. And you have no clue where you're going, because the treasure rooms aren't this way, but left at the last fork. I know, I looted them. So it seems like you need my help, not the other way around." A sneer managed to find its way onto her face as she spoke, and Bryn couldn't help but let it stay. She didn't let her eyes go haywire, but she was almost certain her body language spoke volumes about her feelings right now. "Now one of two things can happen: I can let you go now and we forget you ever stumbled across me, or you keep running that mouth of yours and I find a trap that hasn't been triggered or disarmed to shove you into. Because you're testing what little patience I have left. I have been in these damn ruins for the last two days for training, I have had next to no sleep, I want real food not rations, and I'm sick of all this damn sand," she ended, her words coming out more like snarls. She just wanted peace and quiet to do her thing, to look around and maybe find some cool stuff that she could actually use. He was having none of it though, opting instead to be offended by her words.
"Excuse me? I must have you know, even leather is extremely hot in this weather, and full armor would be worse. You're in leather and you seem to be just fine. And who says I'm looking for treasure. How can I even know you actually did what you said. Two days? For 'training'? I think you're full of Minotaur shit and just won't accept it. Who do you think you are, pretending to play the lone adventurer?" His words piled up on Bryn, and she could feel herself snap. It had been four days (two in the ruins and two for travel), she had been plagued with nightmares (which was currently normal) and thus had no sleep, the rations sucked and she wanted real food, sand was getting in her boots, and worst of all she had to deal with this asshole. Her eyes didn't glow with their normal vigor, instead casting an almost eerie, blood red light just in front of her face, illuminating what little bit was in shadow. Ire and some irrational rage seared through her, and before she quite had time to process it, her dagger was back out and pointed.
"Who do I think I am? You really want to ask that? I think I'm the one who's faced down countless creatures you've only seen in your nightmares. I think I'm the only one of us here who's looked death in the eye and lived to tell the tale. I think I'm the one who's been in this desert for a god's damned week prepping in the heat before I even touched these god's forsaken ruins. And I think that, of the two people here, I'm the one who has the map. You know, the one from the archives in the city? No, you wouldn't. Because no one goes to the damn archives. How do I know? Because if they had, they would have known I have the only copy of said map." She left out the part about stealing it, because the nice people in the building hadn't wanted to let her make a copy. That was better left unsaid. "So I think you'd best turn around and walk home, green stalk. Because I think you're out of your league." Before Bryn could do much else, her feet were walking away, through the hallway, past the (now disarmed) arrow trap, and to the next area.
It was a good hour before she calmed down even a little bit. Thankfully there weren't any living things she could take it out on. Well, unless reanimated skeletons could be counted as living, but she didn't count them. Finally she found what she had come there for (besides the traps, that is). In one of the far corners of the ruins there had been an archive, or a library of some sort. And even though she hadn't seen him since before her adventures, somehow Bryn knew that if she could get one of these books for Aran, he'd be grateful. Not that she cared. No, she just wanted to do something for an old friend. He had been on her mind a lot recently, and had their last encounter not ended... well, she just was hesitant to go back. Maybe she'd leave it on his doorstep with a note. And maybe the gods would take pity on her and the earth would swallow her whole before that actually happened. Either way, she found a room that seemed to be mostly intact, and they appeared to be the right area according to the map. Quickly taking whatever was still intact after all these years, Bryn set up the instant camp and called it a night.
For the first time in two years, Bryn didn't see the faces of her family in her dreams, wasn't haunted by the derisive laughter of fate, couldn't feel the pitying stares of her former friends and companions. Instead she slept more soundly than she had in a very long time.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
He's got inside my head, got hold of my hand
"Is everything alright?" Bryn blinked and the forest was gone, replaced by dwarves drinking their ale and a worried dragonborn to her left. Well, she knew he looked worried at least. She had long gotten used to his eyebrow ridge things.
"Yeah. Sorry, I lost myself for a moment there." She almost decided to drop it, to not continue the story any further. Aran was looking at her like she would break, and it was starting to annoy her. Not that she would let him know that. "Look, it was nothing, alright. I met up with my family, hung with them for a bit, and left because I wanted to go see more. Nothing big." The look persisted, although it wasn't as strong. That was good at least. She put on a lax smile and tried to convince him. "Really. I'm just being silly and remembering all the good times I had during those five years. It's nothing to worry about, alright?" That seemed to put him at ease.
"If you say so, Bryn. But if there's anything you need," he started, trailing off with another pointed look. The second half was unspoken between them, as it had been when he found her in the woods all those years ago. As it had been when she had managed to find him again.
"I know. Anyway, where was I?"
"Travelling around, something about a desert."
"Oh right! So there I was..."
"Yeah. Sorry, I lost myself for a moment there." She almost decided to drop it, to not continue the story any further. Aran was looking at her like she would break, and it was starting to annoy her. Not that she would let him know that. "Look, it was nothing, alright. I met up with my family, hung with them for a bit, and left because I wanted to go see more. Nothing big." The look persisted, although it wasn't as strong. That was good at least. She put on a lax smile and tried to convince him. "Really. I'm just being silly and remembering all the good times I had during those five years. It's nothing to worry about, alright?" That seemed to put him at ease.
"If you say so, Bryn. But if there's anything you need," he started, trailing off with another pointed look. The second half was unspoken between them, as it had been when he found her in the woods all those years ago. As it had been when she had managed to find him again.
"I know. Anyway, where was I?"
"Travelling around, something about a desert."
"Oh right! So there I was..."
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