Camp Bon Fire Rumors and Stories
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_Often an elf leaning heavily on a staff, and wrapped in a tattered cloak with the hood drawn low is seen watching Tala. Though he does not bother to speak to many people, every now and then he walks over during her sparring and is seen to check on her shoulder. Often enough he is seen giving a light prayer that seems to ease some of her pain, but seems unable or unwilling to fully heal the wound and weakness.
Oddly enough, it almost seems he prefers it that way. When one of the Romani ask him why he does not just heal it away entirely, his soft spoken response is simply…_
"But then… what would be learned?"
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stands with Raver's assistance pulling raver forward and slapping her on the back as she steps forward and past her
Two can play that game old lady. grins and rubs her smarting hand on her thigh
There are places he could hide in the hall. I think he is young though by elven standards.
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For his part, Aramuil seems quite mystified by the sudden attention as the entire camp seems to finally come to ther realization that he is courting Cherry. Though, at least for now, he seems to put up with it.
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easily sidesteps the feint, a foot sweeping out to land Tala on her arse
Careful old woman…. yer butt ain't so padded as it could handle landing on it many more time.
chortles and offers a hand to help her up
He'll wait on Miss Cherry, or he'll answer to nae only me…
glances to the sidelines where her Warriors keep watch
He'll be answerin' to the whole Camp.
would hate ta see him fall into the Ravine.
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Its not the age that bothers me. Its the way any children from such a union would be treated…As you and I both know first hand. If he's willing to treat her like royalty and wait till she's an adult...Maybe the patience of a elf will out.
Tala makes feint at Raver while she is distracted to see how fast her reflexes are
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Raver spars with Tala for short periods, helping her regain the strength she lost. She spares a glance for the dandy, stepping back to let Tala catch her breath… murmuring in her ear
What is it with these old men sniffing about Miss Cherry. Don't they know she's just a child?
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Tala has been seen using the combat training areas when they are not in use by the guards. A garish looking scar encircles her left shoulder it is red and raised. She seems to favor that shoulder as if it pains her, but is determined to regain strength in it. Pausing in her practice to wipe her face, she looks to the fires and seeing Aramuil she clucks her tongue
He doesn't know the Romani way. I will talk to him about propriety and ask where are the gifts for her family. He is a good lad, but thats no reason to let him off easy.
she grins almost ferally at those near her
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@a12fb56c6e=ShadowElf:
If the elven dandy is close to Cherry, he soon notices that at least 2 Warriors, armed to the teeth are close by as well. Always smiling, always polite, nevertheless, the charming Miss Cherry is well protected by her comrades-in-arms.
And by her bodyguard, the Purple haired Charlie.
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If the elven dandy is close to Cherry, he soon notices that at least 2 Warriors, armed to the teeth are close by as well. Always smiling, always polite, nevertheless, the charming Miss Cherry is well protected by her comrades-in-arms.
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According to some of the gypsies in the camp, a well-dressed elven mage called Aramuil Holimion has regularly been visiting Cherry at the camp; at all times of day and night. The more gossip-driven gypsies have been wagging their tongues with rumours of what he does, some saying he's an elven noble, others saying some sort of charlatan and still others hear he does some sort of work protecting Norwick. Whatever the case may be, it doesn't appear that the elf plans to stop visiting anytime soon.
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The messenger stood dumbstruck at the sight of the pretty lass. For a long moment he maintained a gawking expression as he watched her disappeared out of sight before regaining his senses, smoothing his hair and adjusting his collar.
"Da't be one hot little lass… Aye cannae wait for 'er to grow up!"
With that he disappears out of sight and returns to Norwick, with tales of pretty lass to be shared amongst the envious men of the town. Days later, there seems to be a surge of male visitors or suitors in the romani camp wanting to catch a sight of this silver haired lass.
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A pretty teenage girl with silver-white hair overhears the Norwick messanger at the Heart fires, as she struggles with the strings on a small lute. Her light blue eyes blaze with sudden anger as she rises and approaches the man:
"Her name is RAGNHILD, and that spear is tipped with the tooth of the great white dragon Sharn, ripped from his mouth by my father himself! My mother is typical of no one but -herself-, you Norwick simpleton, and if you want her help, you better not call her a toothpick weilder."
With a huff, Lycka turns on her heel, walking away with a posture every bit as proud as her mothers. Her long legs carry her quickly into the inner parts of the camp, where Ragnhild is busy burning the dinner boar to a crisp. Half a day later, a score of hobgoblins have a fatal encounter with the end of a wickedly sharp toothpick as the tall blonde runs south with an easy, wolflike step.
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_During Cherry's vigils, a few female Warriors are at a respectable distance, yet close enough to keep people away. The women simply nod to the other purple haired lass and continue to watch the area.
Aelthas occasionally comes up and speaks to the Warriors then wanders off shortly after._
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Whether she notices or not the other purple haired lass is usually close to Cherry during her vigils. Not always awake, but always alert, waking at the smallest sound and glaring at anyone going to try and watch.
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_In light of or in spite of recent happenings, Cherry throws herself into the training sessions even training by herself with the archery targets and combat dummies.
When not keeping busy training,, she has the little stoen of hers out and set in her Grandma's tree are near the heartfires in prayerful meditttation. It could rumoured that a couple times, when the bright light of the moon breaks through the forest canopy, she has been seen near the waterfall into the chasm toward the south edge of Camp, nude and clasping that very same stoen of hers in two hands while keeping an all night vgil until the mon set and sun rose. For most of the vigil a soft white glow from her stone wrapped around the girl while she chanted her prayers.
On aside note, Cherry often wears the sakuras Celebring routinely ifts her behind her ear. Only recently has she stared placing them behind her left ear instead of the right. The older blossoms are dired and added toa wreath that hangs in Cera's tree._
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_A quiet talk at the fire about Celebring entering the black-armband forces, took a turn by the arrival of the ghost of Aelthas. After provoking him with a sneer regarding his sexual preference, he turned to newly arrived Ezachiel, calling his preference of black and green with a devlish smile.
As Celebring retired for the night, the follower of Azuth and the black-haired Wolf scout came to the conclusion that it would be wise to follow Aelthas's ghost to find his bones to bring to Jeni.
Later that night, a bruised and battered company was seen travelling back from the Jiyyd deep swamps towards the gypsy camp._
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_The Gypsy Warriors of the Black Armband seem to have taken another as their own, or at least include him in the early hours of training before dawn. He is one known as Celebring, having lived there for quite a few years, developing a reputation as a skilled and respected Wizard…
He seems very calm and focused during their training, detached even. However, it is not his spellcraft he focuses, but rather his proficiency with a beautiful Elven Longsword and a finely crafted Oak Longbow, along with the other Warriors. He seems practiced enough already in the traditional forms of Elven Swordsmanship and Archery, but leaves room for improvement among the elite.
Of average strength, yet greater stamina, it is still a struggle for him to keep up with the other Warriors, but a struggle he seems determined to overcome.
On another note, he seems to be one of the few familiar faces to greet the Lavender-haired girl, Cherry with a faint smile and a bow of the head. With an almost endless supply of Sakura's* he presents her with graciously each time he sees her, it has become a near daily ritual, or perhaps it has already been for some time._
*Cherry Blossom
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A messenger from Norwick has been seen of this late loitering by the Heart fires of the Romani camp, inquiring the residents where one could establish contact or send word to one known as 'Ragnhald'.
"So yah. Wonderin' ye seen dis warrioress dat our scout, Jerr, called her 'Ragnhald' or somethin'. Described as ya typical Maya of Norwick militia 'cept she uses a giant toothpick with its pointy end made of a tooth of some o'l giant lizard instead of axe eh. Was it dragon or lizard? Nay remember dat bit.
Tell 'er dat Norwick has a work proposal for 'er dat Jerr specifically recommended this Ragnhald…Raggie- Rabbie- BAH! Whateva her 'ard-ta-pronounce name be! Tell dis toothpick wielder dat our Seneschal, Harmonee, be wantin' audience with 'er eh/
So ya'll simply tell her to drop word in Norwick if she is interested. Offer won't be holding out long since our Seneschal not da patient sort, being an iron lady and all with Norwick in a knee-deep crisis now heh. So she betta make up her mind quickie quickly soon.
Here ya go, ale's on me to show me thanks for 'elp!"
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It seems that more than one lavender haired lass has joined the men in their training of a dawn, and if the slightly younger of the two seems to push herself harder and further than she needs to or perhaps even should then perhaps the answer lies in the looks she occassionally gives Aelthas. Looks both of challenge and of yearning.
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A group is rumored to have encountered a frozen ogre in the pass. The group apparently went looking from whence the ogre came only to be met with fierce resistance from the hobgoblins. Returning to the camp many hours later battered and bruised the party disbands quickly and goes their separate ways finding what rest they may.
