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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 8, 2004 20:08:45 GMT -5
*Shanel had recovered from her laughing fit in the streets, and had quickly come to asess her situation. She was free of the camps, true, a fact that still made her look around, afraid this was all just a plesant dream that would fade at any moment. However, she was alone in a strange city, without food, water, or friends...not that she had had much of any of those any time recently. She wandered the streets for awhile, her emancipated form drawing much attention...untill she wound up here. Here, her emancipation, although extreme, was not too far from the norm. Although the atmosphere here was so much like the camps to almost make her weep, she still new she had freedom here, more freedom than she had had in over a hundred years.
After much seraching, she finds a somewhat narrow alley between two buildings. A large wooden crate almost blocks the entrance entirely, and a wall at the back, about ten feet in...perfect for what she needed. She slipped between the crate and wall, untill she was in the alley. To her joy, she found a muddy puddle of water and a half eaten apple here - more water than she had had in months, and the first fruit she had seen in years. She greedily devours the apple before lapping at the puddle like a dog, not caring who saw her - in the camps, there was no room for shame.
Satisfied for once, she crawls over to the corner of her alley and curls up. She strokes her clay medallion lovingly, her only possesion and her only memory of her sister. She does not enter the elven trance, though. Instead, she keeps her ears open, and begins planning what she will do to survive in this strange new land of such bounty.*
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 8, 2004 20:24:20 GMT -5
*She begins to go over herself mentally, making a list of things to do.*
.oO (Well then...I nae be in the best of me health. I nae have food, and I be doutin that the puddle will be lastin me for a time. I have nae idea where I be, and I have nae idea who anyone is. In all honesty, I be thinking in nae be a bad idea if someone be stumblin upon me. It would be makin things much easier for me.)
*She shakes her head and lets out a low laugh, a sound completely without mirth. She speaks aloud to herself next, her beautifully melodious voice hinting at the beauty she would have had.*
"Oh, that be a brilliant idea girl. Next, you'll be hopin to go stumblin into a viper pit. Maybe be throwin a few cobras in there as well. That would be doin you a good deal of good, wouldn't it now?"
*She shakes her head again and heaves a sigh, a low, rattling sound, enough to give a vampire chills.*
"Face it, girl. You be on your own. Of course, that nae be nothin new."
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 8, 2004 20:40:44 GMT -5
*Shanel sighs wearily, looking around her alley. Noticing the food and water had distracted her from everything else. She began to take stock of what she had. Not much, but more than she had before. Her amulet, and her rags, of course. The puddle, which was significantly smaller than it was before. The rocks that rested in the mud around her. The crate, which was completely nailed shut.
That made her pause. If she could get the nails out, maybe she could sell them, and the wood. It was surpizingly fine oak, now that she looked at it. And, even if it wasn't sellable, she could fashion some sort of club or spear from the wood, and use the nails to give it an extra punch. Or, she could use the nails to add something else to her punch. In a small corner of her mind, she wonders if she ever would have thought of that before her time in the camp. The rest of her mind, though, begins searching the mud for some way to pry the nails loose of the wood.
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 8, 2004 20:54:37 GMT -5
*She steps back, shaking her head in frusteration. It couldn't be that easy, could it? She had no way to get the nails out.*
.oO (The gods nae answered me prayers before, but I be thinking i be havin a stock stored up greater than any mortals be. I be hopin this works...)
*She places her finger in the mud, and begins to draw the sign of one of her people's gods. Three stars, over a mountian, with three fethers places just so...without concious thought to guide her, she draws the sign of one of her people's goddess. On the final pass, she slips her finger a bit deeper into the mud..and hit something solid.
Shocked, she rapidly begins to dig in the mud. She quickly discovers, not more than half a finger down, part of a broken blade of a knife, discarded. She clutches it in both hands, almost weeping for joy. The Goddesses had not forsaken her. There was hope.
She scuttles over to the box on all fours and slips the knife edge under one of the nails, then begins to pry it out. Slowly - oh so slowly - it begins to come loose. Once it is far enough out, she grasps it with her fingers and pulls it out. One down, many, many more to go. Still, she grins. This is definatly a new beginning.*
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 9, 2004 1:22:30 GMT -5
Hours pass. Day fades into night, and Shenal, exhausted and exilerated, pauses in her work to sleep. She has removed three of the boards from the back, a total of ten nails...enough to make out that there is indeed something inside the box.
Unfortunatly, she is not so tired that she does not dream. It is an old dream, a dream that part of Shenal, a part she despises, welcomes like an old friend.
The snow was white, the first snow of her 16th year. It was a relief for Shenal. She had seen snow stained red for most of her life, for the small time she had seen snow, and the pure white of this snow comforted her. Still, it terrified the elders. They had fled further and further north to escape the yuan-ti, but many of them were seeing their first white snow of their lives...
She tossed fitfully in her sleep. She knows this, she lived this, and doesn't want to remember. Her mind jumps ahead, trying to finish it...but stopping on the worst part.
...she stood over her fathers body, his villik'swia crossed before her. Her own bladestaff was buried deep in the Anathema's chest, but it still hissed at her, it's six heads hissing in a horrible symphony.
"You will ssserve ussssupremely, sssmalling."
She snarls at it - them? - tears over her father's death streaming down her face. She hadn't seen what had happened to Shenel, her sister, beset on all sides by purebloods, but grimly knew she was likely dead. Shenal was all that was left of her family. With a wordless howl, she prepares to leap at it...when all of a sudden, a blast of psionic energy washes over her sending her reelilng, paralized. She drops to the ground, wondering how this had happened. How the Yuan-ti had found them. The Anathema's chilling words, as darkness closes around her, answers that question.
"Make sssure the tratior is ssspared. Without her, we would not have found them."
Even in her paralysis, she forces some sound though her lips. First, it is just a groan, but it begins to sound like she is shouting...
"NO!"
She screams, sitting upright. She sits in that crouch, panting...until the tears begin to stream down her face. She curls herself up into a fetal position, weeping openly, grieving her family for the first time since her capture...weeping tears that she had kept inside for a hundred years. For the first time, she is free to mourn.
It is in that position, hours later, that she falls back asleep.
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Post by Rumerin on May 9, 2004 4:06:33 GMT -5
*Nerkori wanders around the slums. This is home, she's Eluria scum born and bred. She's just returning to Greyfriars from a visit to her parents and siblings. Because of this, she's not dressed in her usual clothing, but just a plain brown shirt and a long grey skirt. Her hair hangs on her back in a neat braid, and she is barefoot. She isn't in a hurry.
At one corner, she spots an old friend and colleague, a slightly round Halfling lad. He's leaning against a wall and yawns. He seems to be there to beg, but he's not really thin enough to really go for starved. Nerkori greets him in passing. He looks up*
Kori, hey.
*The expression on his face and the tone of his voice clearly indicate he wants her to stay. So she stays. They have a short, whispered conversation, in which the Halfling's eyes dart towards the alley on the other side of the street more than once. In the end, Nerkori nods, and smiles, and says goodbye. She walks away, nothing indicating that she would suddenly be in a hurry, but her slow, nearly bored steps, are now directed towards the gate to the centre of town.
The Halfling lingers. He takes a mandarin from his pocket and peels it leasurely. He runs his hand through his brown hair, plucks at his thin faded red trousers, his once-red tunic. He yawns, and eats the mandarin very slowly. A thin man in rags strolls by after about an hour, and nods politely. The Halfling nods back. When the man has gone, the lad throws the peels on the ground in the mud, makes a great show of yawning, puts his hands in his pockets, and walks towards the alley.
He slips by the crate and takes in his surroundings with a quick eye. Seeing the woman there asleep, he studies her carefully, though he never comes closer. He notes the state of the crate. For a moment, he considers something, then sighs. Damn his chaotic goodness. It's bound to get him in trouble anytime soon. Ah well. He reaches in his pocket and draws out two more mandarins and one half crumbled almond cookie. He should have a sandwich here somewhere... But where? Oh- right. He ate that for 11-o'clock snack. He puts the mandarins and the cookie on the ground behind the crate, out of sight from the road, and after some hesitation adds four copper pieces. She does seem mighty thin.
After this, he slips between the crate and the wall again, and takes up his station at the wall opposite the street, trying to beg from anyone who passes by. After a while he makes a show of having had enough of it, and walks away slowly. Not two minutes later, another beggar takes his place, a human man with ash blonde hair hanging down to his shoulders, clad in dirty brown clothes.*
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 9, 2004 18:38:25 GMT -5
Shenal wakes slowly, her eyes still red with tears. Still, she feels somehow more refreshed than she has in years. All those tears, bottled up, finally let loose, was like a weight lifted from her shoulders. The pain is still there, to be true, but it feels like she could finally move on. She stands up and stretches, but halfway though the motion, freezes.
There was food there.
She stares at it, motionless, hardly daring to breath. It was impossible...unless...without a second thought, she dives on it as if it might dissappear, and begins to eat, devouring the cookie first. Her tounge feels like it was about to explode, and she actually let out a small moan of pleasure. She had not tasted anything this good in...gods, far, far, far too long. She takes one of the mandarins and begins to eat it with as much fevor as she had cookie, her mind working slowly as she does.
.oO (I do be wondering who be givin me this. This nae seem like the place to be findin one so generous. not that I be complainin. still, I do be owein this one a debt I be doubtin I can be repayin anytime soon.)
She looks around, her pointed ears quivering in hope that her savior was still nearby. She picks up the remaining mandarin in shaking hands, but then tucks it into the only patch remaining on her rags. She did not know who had given her the food, but she could not count on his or her charity forever. She would eat it tommorrow. Only then does she notice the coppers, her eyes truley buldging at this. To her, it was a fortune. She hesitantly picks them up, then looks around nervously before tucking them into her pouch and peering around the box. She sees the man, and with a squeak, pulls her head back in, breathing heavily.
.oO (Do your wits be leavin you, now? Who knows what that man be wantin? The chances of him nowin who helped you, they do be slim. You can nae be trustin everyone, just because one of them be showing a kind heart.)
Dispite herself, she takes her knife blade and marks on the mud next to the box, in a script that would be elegant were she not shaking so badly, "Thank you." Sighing, wondering why she even bothered, she goes back to work on the box. As she digs out the nails, her mind wanders…and is inevitably drawn back to her hidden savior. At first, childish fancies take her, that he was a strong, fine elven warrior, well versed in the arts of battle and magic. When she found him, he would go back, and help free her people – all of the elven people of her land. She lets out a low, mirthless chuckle. Such fancies had sustianed her for her first little while in the camps, but the daily struggle had erased them – she had thought permanatly. She goes back to work, thinking more pragmatically.
Whoever had found her had to either have heard her, or seen her enter. She tries to remember if there had been anyone around, tries and fails. Whoever had saved her could have been right under her nose then, and she would not have noticed him. Or her, she reminds herself. Nothing said her hero was not a heroine. Still, she wishes she knew who he was. He or she had helped her and expected nothing in return, a charity she had almost forgotten existed.
Of course, part of her new what she was really doing. Thinking about her hero, working on the box – all of it was an excuse to not leave the alley. She had spent a night here, alone, and had not been hurt – quite the opposite – and it had begun to take on a measure of security for her. Part of her was terrified of the idea of leaving her alley. Who knew what she might meet, or if she would find her way back, or if her alley would even still be hers when she got back. Stupid thoughts. Irrational feelings. But they were thoughts and feelings that were very, very real to her.
.oO (I do need to be leavin this place sometime…if I nae be findin my own food, and my hero nae be returning, then I be dead soon. I nae be wantin that. I’ll be leavin tommorrow. I’ll be usin the boards to seal the alley up, hope no one be goin in while I be gone, and then I’ll be comin back the day after. Oh, I do be hopin I be able to be comin back here.)
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Post by Rumerin on May 10, 2004 3:45:57 GMT -5
*The beggar leans against the wall and doesn't seem to notice the activity in the alley across the street. The Halfling returns, carrying a small Halfling backpack*
Mornin' Flink.
Morning. Any change?
She's been busy, she has. Nuthin' much though. I dun' see nuthin' important 'bout her. Dunno why we should bother 'bout her. What did they say?
*Flink shrugs*
Told me to keep an eye on her if I so wished. You can go if you like, but I'll stay. She's terribly thin...
She ain't the only one, ya know. You can't take care o' all the beggars in town, lad.
I know, I know. I'm not trying to. One at a time, Zil- one at a time.
You Halflings are funny people. I'll see ye round, Flink.
Yes, see you.
*Zil leaves and Flink takes up his station. He sits down on a small fence and takes a small pipe from his pocket. He takes it easy and smokes away the hours. The food he had asked his girlfriend to make this morning weighs heavily in the pack, but he's afraid to go over and hand it to the lady. Perhaps if she falls asleep again. A few people pass by that he knows, and he chats with some. At times, he wonders why he's sitting here with a pack of food for a lady he doesn't know, while he could be with Milly right now. Or busy in Caleria picking rich pockets. Sitting here won't pay the rent, because the Corporation didn't care much about the thin elfwoman, and didn't order him to keep an eye on her. They're not paying him for this. He sighs and makes himself another pipe. At least Milly was proud of him when he told her about this. And he likes when Milly is proud of him. So he'd better stay*
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 10, 2004 8:49:53 GMT -5
*Shanel stops, leaning back against the wall with an exhausted sigh. Sweat runs down her verdant brow, but she still manages a pleased look as she digs out the remaining mandarin and begins to eat it. Although certainly not strenuous, it had been difficult to completely remove the back boards of the box, and all ten of them leaned against the back of her alley, the nails lying in the mud next to them. This had been the first time she had accomplished something with her hands for no one but herself since...since before the camps. She shakes her head, and almost manages a pleased grin. Almost. Her eyes still have that same haunted look, and just the thoughts of the camps causes her to break out into sweat again, though this one much colder. Suppressing the memories, she bends down and drinks at the last of her water, lapping it up slowly. She has to go out, and soon. She cannot last long without water.
Tired as she is, she decides to look out once more, checking for her hero – lacking a name, she had come to think of him as that – though she doubts she will see him – again, lacking a gender, she had come to think of it as a him. She wonders what race her rescuer was of. Perhaps human, or elven, or maybe – ha! – a …. halfling?
She freezes as she looks outside and sees the halfling there. Memories of a different halfling cascade through her mind, memories of her only friend after her sister vanished, indeed memories of the only person who did not betray her trust as soon as he gained it. Rationally, she knew that one good halfling did not make the whole race good, but emotionally, she hoped he was her hero. However, she still froze, out of sight – or so she thought. However, the light still managed to catch one of her brilliant emerald eyes, so it would be easily seen from the street.
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Post by Rumerin on May 10, 2004 8:57:16 GMT -5
*Having been watching the alley, she doesn't escape his notice. He wonders for a while whether he dares to approach her, but then thinks of how disappointed Milly would be if he came home with a full bag. And anyway, the lady's seen him now, so much is obvious. Trying to tail her wouldn't work anyway. Ah well. Now or never then. He takes a deep breath and walks over to her. He takes his cap off respectfully*
Morning to you, ma'am.
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 10, 2004 10:45:36 GMT -5
*As he approaches, she shrinks back into herself, her hand grasping the broken knife blade tightly enough to draw blood. Still, she nearly jumps at his words, before swallowing deeply and replying shakily. Every part of her stance screams terror, though she herself is very quiet.*
"Who..."
*She has to swallow again before the can force the rest out.*
"who be you?"
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Post by Rumerin on May 10, 2004 10:52:05 GMT -5
*He looks rather taken aback by the stance, and considers for a while that perhaps he should've stayed home with Milly after all. Heck, he's a thief, not a social worker. And this lady looks just freaky. No turning back now though. He hopes she's not going to hurt him as well as herself with that blade, and feels with his leg against the dagger hidden in his boot. He shifts nervously from one leg to the other*
Ehm- I'm just Flink ma'am. I- ah- I just happened to see you enter, see. And I was wondering, whether you might be a bit hungry and stuff, you know.
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 10, 2004 10:58:20 GMT -5
*Shanel almost laughed, it was so rediculous. Here she was, terrified, and she had almost scared him off. She lessened her death grip on the knife, baring her teeth it what she hoped was a grin - she hadn't done one in so long. She changes her stance, trying to put him at his ease, afraid of scaring him off.*
I be sorry, just Flink. I be Shanel. I..*she pauses a second before continuing.* I do be hungry. Thank you.
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Post by Rumerin on May 10, 2004 11:12:02 GMT -5
Just Flink? No, no no- Flink. That's all.
*Shrugs*
You know. Flink. Just- Flink.
*He smiles nervously*
You scared me there, ma'am. I- I got some food and stuff for you. Nothing much, mind.
*He puts the bag on the ground, kneels by it and starts unpacking. There are two sandwiches, an apple, three mandarins, a small chunk of cheese, a pack of almond cookies, a small box with some vegetable stew, and two bottles of milk. He smiles again, slightly embarrassed, and picks up the bag again. He puts one silver piece by the food, and gets up*
There, we're not rich folk, but I hope it's some help to you ma'am. If you need a roof ma'am, I suggest you go to the Church, or perhaps the Evensong Inn. They both take in people for free you know. They got beds there. Anyway. Hope to have been of help ma'am. Cyrrollalee protect you.
*He nods politely, slips out between the crate and the wall into the streets, and should Shanel go after him, she will not see him there anymore either. He knows the neighbourhood and needs to make some money today, so he is gone*
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Post by Shanel Maelinial on May 10, 2004 13:14:12 GMT -5
*Shanel's eyes buldge, and she barely manages to croak a hoarse "thank you" out before Flink runs off. She stares at it for a few more moments, practically drooling. This much food...she had not seen it's like in far, far, far too long. An idle part of her remarks on how often she has been seeing things and doing things she has not done if far too long - including such generosity. Her opinion of halflings as a race, already high, skyrocketed to place them right along equal to other elves, if not slightly higher.
Looking at her hands, she wonders how half a sandwhich got there, and where the other half was. Embarassed, she realized she had been eating while she thoughted. However, she was no where near embarassed enough to stop eating. As she does, she turns the halflings words over in her mind. She just now realizes that she had made up her mind to leave the alley, and this Evensong sounded like a good place to go to. Vaguly, she remembered her father saying that Inns always needed work, and would hire almost anyone. She hoped that held true for this city.
Finished with the sandwhich, she begins packing the rest of the food, save the apple, up, wrapping it in a strip of cloth torn from what remains of her clothes. With one of those almost laughs, she shakes her head and scoops up the silver peice. Some of the food Flink had given her would last for only a few days before it began to go bad, so she would have to watch how she ate it. Hopefully, it would last her untill she found some other way to make money. With a final look around her onetime home, she slips out though the side of the box, her food slung over her shoulder, the apple in the other hand, and all the money she has snug in her one remaining pocket, secured so no jingle would give away it's presence. Part of her still wanted to dark back into the saftey of the alley, but she pushed it aside. That alley would be the death of her if she stayed much longer. Looking around, she decides to wander untill she finds the Evensong.
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