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1st day of Mirtul, 1372 DR
Sep. 25th, 2006 11:41 amOw.
Where am I?
And why is there a Drow female kneeling over me with a dagger to my throat?
I should probably start from the beginning.
Greengrass is one of the High Holy Days for Mielikki followers like myself, and let’s face it, it’s an important holiday for just about everyone else. People from all around the Marches come in for a day of joy and revelry, of riding and dancing and drinking and yet more dancing. Except for the people who worship evil Gods. Not them so much. I almost feel sorry for them. Their festivals don’t sound like much fun.
The small town of High Hold, nestled snugly between the Moonwood and the Evermoors, was chosen as the site for this year’s Wild Ride, and since I’d only freshly arrived back in Silverymoon from the High Forest, well, let’s just say I felt obligated to attend. I hadn’t participated in a Wild Ride since it was held in Quervarr ten years ago.
The festival was like a debutante ball for a newly ordained druid like me, if by debutante ball you mean starting with a bareback ride by moonlight through the woods on a unicorn and ending with copious amounts of elverquisst and dancing at the local inn, The Stallion’s Mount. Well, that’s where it would have ended, were it not for the drow.
I stared up at the girl whose silver eyes matched the dagger she held and tilted my head. Despite her threatening stance, she didn’t look scared, or angry. She looked cautious...and curious. I took the opportunity to get a quick scan of my surroundings. She and I seemed to be in a barn and it was just before the crack of dawn. We were surrounded by bales of hay, stacked that way on purpose, and recently at that. Hiding. I reached out with my mind to the animals in the place, telling them to make a little more noise, not so much as to raise suspicion, but enough to evade detection were we to finally speak.
I looked down. Hmm..I'm fully clothed...so that’s not why she’s pointing a knife at me at least...ow...it hurts to move, more than any other hangover I've ever had. But different. Oh, what have I done now?
She narrowed her eyes at me, slid the blade into her boot and sat back a little, rocking on her heels. It soon became clear that she didn't consider me a threat, as she pulled a handkerchief out of her pack and dabbed at my mouth with it.
Quietly, she whispered to me in elvish: [You have a few bruises, but nothing that won't go away in a few days.]
The rest of the evening’s activities slowly started to come back to me. I was pretty drunk last night after the festival. I was bouncing from lap to lap of every handsome gentleman in that small town pub when I saw a small, hooded figure being pushed around. I remember striding over, filled with wine and confidence after I saw the men pouring their ale on her. I got a quick glance at her - she was, well, a drow. No matter. Bunch of small-town human hick bully boys think it's fun to pick on a minority. I drew my sword and smacked the first one on the side of the head, knocking him out cold. She drew her sap and soon we had a pub full of human males to fight…
[Nothing broken.]
She showed me a mirror. I had a black eye, a split lip, a bruise on my cheek and...about six love bites I assume I got before the fight broke out. I hope. For all her small size, she was in better shape than I.
...I remembered lots of groaning and the clinking sound of coins...being helped out of the pub by the tiny girl...stepping over a lot of moaning men...drinking something warm...waking up here.
She handed me a flask and I drank. The same warm liquid from the night before, only it didn't make me sleepy. I suddenly felt a lot less sore and was sure that I could move about a bit. I smiled at her. She got up, extended her hand to me, and helped pull me to my feet before looking out the window, a little anxious.
Those were healing potions she gave me, when she very easily could have poisoned me, robbed me, and left me for dead.. She saved me as I had saved her. And something in my heart told me as I watched her uneasy expression that she was in trouble. Big trouble. It was then that I made my decision.
I told her, “[My name is Seledra. I’m a city druid, from Silverymoon.]” I extended my hand and she shook it with her own.
She replied while looking away,“[I hear it’s...nice. Never been there, though.]” Maybe she’ll tell me her name in time.
I laughed quietly. “[No doubt. They don’t usually let drow into the city. Unless they’re vouched for by a city employee, that is.]” I paused. “[Would you like to come with me?]”
At first it was like what I said didn’t quite register with her. She stared at me like I was daft. “[Are you serious?]”
I smiled. “[Of course. I have a nice house in the Northbank area. You could stay in the guest room, if you like.] I held her gaze, to let her know I was being sincere.
I swear I saw something glint in her eyes. She nodded, smiled and said, “[It’s a day’s journey. Let’s head out before it’s light out.]”
Onward and outward!
Where am I?
And why is there a Drow female kneeling over me with a dagger to my throat?
~
I should probably start from the beginning.
Greengrass is one of the High Holy Days for Mielikki followers like myself, and let’s face it, it’s an important holiday for just about everyone else. People from all around the Marches come in for a day of joy and revelry, of riding and dancing and drinking and yet more dancing. Except for the people who worship evil Gods. Not them so much. I almost feel sorry for them. Their festivals don’t sound like much fun.
The small town of High Hold, nestled snugly between the Moonwood and the Evermoors, was chosen as the site for this year’s Wild Ride, and since I’d only freshly arrived back in Silverymoon from the High Forest, well, let’s just say I felt obligated to attend. I hadn’t participated in a Wild Ride since it was held in Quervarr ten years ago.
The festival was like a debutante ball for a newly ordained druid like me, if by debutante ball you mean starting with a bareback ride by moonlight through the woods on a unicorn and ending with copious amounts of elverquisst and dancing at the local inn, The Stallion’s Mount. Well, that’s where it would have ended, were it not for the drow.
~
I stared up at the girl whose silver eyes matched the dagger she held and tilted my head. Despite her threatening stance, she didn’t look scared, or angry. She looked cautious...and curious. I took the opportunity to get a quick scan of my surroundings. She and I seemed to be in a barn and it was just before the crack of dawn. We were surrounded by bales of hay, stacked that way on purpose, and recently at that. Hiding. I reached out with my mind to the animals in the place, telling them to make a little more noise, not so much as to raise suspicion, but enough to evade detection were we to finally speak.
I looked down. Hmm..I'm fully clothed...so that’s not why she’s pointing a knife at me at least...ow...it hurts to move, more than any other hangover I've ever had. But different. Oh, what have I done now?
She narrowed her eyes at me, slid the blade into her boot and sat back a little, rocking on her heels. It soon became clear that she didn't consider me a threat, as she pulled a handkerchief out of her pack and dabbed at my mouth with it.
Quietly, she whispered to me in elvish: [You have a few bruises, but nothing that won't go away in a few days.]
~
The rest of the evening’s activities slowly started to come back to me. I was pretty drunk last night after the festival. I was bouncing from lap to lap of every handsome gentleman in that small town pub when I saw a small, hooded figure being pushed around. I remember striding over, filled with wine and confidence after I saw the men pouring their ale on her. I got a quick glance at her - she was, well, a drow. No matter. Bunch of small-town human hick bully boys think it's fun to pick on a minority. I drew my sword and smacked the first one on the side of the head, knocking him out cold. She drew her sap and soon we had a pub full of human males to fight…
~
[Nothing broken.]
She showed me a mirror. I had a black eye, a split lip, a bruise on my cheek and...about six love bites I assume I got before the fight broke out. I hope. For all her small size, she was in better shape than I.
~
...I remembered lots of groaning and the clinking sound of coins...being helped out of the pub by the tiny girl...stepping over a lot of moaning men...drinking something warm...waking up here.
~
She handed me a flask and I drank. The same warm liquid from the night before, only it didn't make me sleepy. I suddenly felt a lot less sore and was sure that I could move about a bit. I smiled at her. She got up, extended her hand to me, and helped pull me to my feet before looking out the window, a little anxious.
Those were healing potions she gave me, when she very easily could have poisoned me, robbed me, and left me for dead.. She saved me as I had saved her. And something in my heart told me as I watched her uneasy expression that she was in trouble. Big trouble. It was then that I made my decision.
I told her, “[My name is Seledra. I’m a city druid, from Silverymoon.]” I extended my hand and she shook it with her own.
She replied while looking away,“[I hear it’s...nice. Never been there, though.]” Maybe she’ll tell me her name in time.
I laughed quietly. “[No doubt. They don’t usually let drow into the city. Unless they’re vouched for by a city employee, that is.]” I paused. “[Would you like to come with me?]”
At first it was like what I said didn’t quite register with her. She stared at me like I was daft. “[Are you serious?]”
I smiled. “[Of course. I have a nice house in the Northbank area. You could stay in the guest room, if you like.] I held her gaze, to let her know I was being sincere.
I swear I saw something glint in her eyes. She nodded, smiled and said, “[It’s a day’s journey. Let’s head out before it’s light out.]”
Onward and outward!
