Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on Oct 19, 2009 23:35:25 GMT -5
Mehran bustled around her tiny cottage in the woods. There was much cleaning to be done around the house before Winter struck. Despite their arrogance, the Starks of Winterfell were correct in their family motto: Winter is Coming. None of the other major houses had such, well, stark words. There was much the cold taught a man. Mehran knew all about the cold. She shuddered, and pulled her cloak tight against dark memories. Letting the sun set on herself when she was in the Hagen Woods was the least of threatening situations she had seen herself through.
Plus, she had the magic the elves of Ravenwood had taught her. When the elves, Ilyia especially, found out that her tragedy with Disraeli had began due to inexperienced toddling with misunderstood magic, they had began an intensive training for Mehran. Over time, the woman began to understand the use of different energies to bend the appearance of items around her, a type of illusion. She started to understand the strange dreams she'd had. Most importantly, she began to control the mysterious power that Disraeli had left her with when Eldrin exorcised the demon from the woman. She was now capable of surviving and thriving on her own, and she was happy to do so. The days of old had passed.
Now bent over, she plucked the weeds from her herb garden. It was a daily task; the Hagen Woods, where she resided, was a vortex of Chaos. She was a tiny bit of Order at the boundary. The witch kept her guards and glamours strong, and so far, had lived with great success in the Woods, where she had been warned never to stay at night. This was her tenth fortnight there, and she had fended off some scary creatures. Bears were the least of her problems when the mriswith attacked her tiny cottage, startling the faeries and wrecking the garden. Angrily, Mehran attacked until the creatures left. Then she diligently studied until she warded the mriswith off. They still existed, but more peacefully around her. That's all she asked for.
She went out to check the Mailbox. It was charmed, of course -- no courier would ever venture into the Hagen Woods to deliver a simple letter. Instead, letters addressed to her found their way to the box attached to her fence. She didn't question the gift of the elves, and it always worked. Now she pulled out a small flier, curious of its contents.
[Here, there be Dragons![/font]
The feast seemed a wonderfully warm event. Mehran looked at the piece of paper wistfully, wishing she would be willing to go. She had been afraid to be too close to large Dominion gatherings, concerned that she would be recognized by old acquaintances. "It would be better to not concern myself." With that, she cast the paper into the wind, willing the thought of it from her mind.
She continued to clean the cottage, ridding the abode of refuse undesired. It had been some weeks since her last human interaction, and inwardly, she wished a lost traveller might come by.
Plus, she had the magic the elves of Ravenwood had taught her. When the elves, Ilyia especially, found out that her tragedy with Disraeli had began due to inexperienced toddling with misunderstood magic, they had began an intensive training for Mehran. Over time, the woman began to understand the use of different energies to bend the appearance of items around her, a type of illusion. She started to understand the strange dreams she'd had. Most importantly, she began to control the mysterious power that Disraeli had left her with when Eldrin exorcised the demon from the woman. She was now capable of surviving and thriving on her own, and she was happy to do so. The days of old had passed.
Now bent over, she plucked the weeds from her herb garden. It was a daily task; the Hagen Woods, where she resided, was a vortex of Chaos. She was a tiny bit of Order at the boundary. The witch kept her guards and glamours strong, and so far, had lived with great success in the Woods, where she had been warned never to stay at night. This was her tenth fortnight there, and she had fended off some scary creatures. Bears were the least of her problems when the mriswith attacked her tiny cottage, startling the faeries and wrecking the garden. Angrily, Mehran attacked until the creatures left. Then she diligently studied until she warded the mriswith off. They still existed, but more peacefully around her. That's all she asked for.
She went out to check the Mailbox. It was charmed, of course -- no courier would ever venture into the Hagen Woods to deliver a simple letter. Instead, letters addressed to her found their way to the box attached to her fence. She didn't question the gift of the elves, and it always worked. Now she pulled out a small flier, curious of its contents.
[Here, there be Dragons![/font]
The feast seemed a wonderfully warm event. Mehran looked at the piece of paper wistfully, wishing she would be willing to go. She had been afraid to be too close to large Dominion gatherings, concerned that she would be recognized by old acquaintances. "It would be better to not concern myself." With that, she cast the paper into the wind, willing the thought of it from her mind.
She continued to clean the cottage, ridding the abode of refuse undesired. It had been some weeks since her last human interaction, and inwardly, she wished a lost traveller might come by.