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Returning Winds

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Isis:
The figure watched as the land grew closer to the rickety boat she sat in. The scrawny men struggled as they rowed to the rocky shore, every so often glancing at the cloaked form. The only sign of impatience was the tapping from her nail against the edge of the boat.

Finally the boat touched shore and before the men could hold out a helping hand she was leaping out onto the land, water lapping briefly against her bared feet. The woman takes a moment to inhale deeply as her stormy gaze takes in the all too familiar surroundings, a hint of a smile touching her lips. She turns back to the men who seem unable to stop watching her and lazily tosses them a bag of coins which they argue over briefly. When they turn back to the shore, the woman has disappeared into the mists.

Hurry home.

The woman tilted her face to the sky as the storm threatened to break overhead, the urgency of the wind-whispered words causing her to break into motion once more. Her feet kept to the winding path as she made her way to Naerlan, an odd smile on her lips as she keeps to the shadows once near the city's wall. Her gaze paused on the graveyard as she headed that way, her body growing tense as she wanders through the gravestones.

She drags her fingers over a particular gravestone and uses a shovel found against another as she digs into the hardened dirt.  The shovel soon enough hits something metal causing birds to scatter at the unexpected noise. She falls to her knees as she brushes away the dirt almost lovingly.

Old friend, I have need of you again. She murmurs softly. Her fingers sweep over the blackened bracer as she tugs it gently from the ground. A spectre appears briefly as she holds onto the bracer, elven features apparent before it fades transparent. She looks startled briefly at the more solid form but the spectre merely bows and falls into line at her back as the storm finally opens and rain drenches her and the surroundings.

As you wish it.


As she walks into the gates of Naerlan, the lightning flashes brightly overhead as the familiar mark of Elbar circles her neck and glows brightly. Once she reaches the temple she makes her way in with a faint smile that lingers on her lips as she takes in the ever familiar sights.I'm back and the storm will be known and embraced once again.

achaierai:
As Achaierai sits at the alter in Elbar's Temple she notices a figure in the entrance. Being curious she walks out of the temple where she sees a familiar face.  She whispers to her beloved Bezekira "could it be? could that really be her?" The woman just stares at Achaierai as she tries to talk to her. It's almost as if the woman doesn't recognize her or something happened on her journey which made her not want to be friends anymore.  Achaierai keeps trying to talk to the woman and asked her name.  The woman just stands there as if Achaierai wasn't saying anything at all.  Achaierai asks the woman numerous times if her name is Isis but gets no reply.  Does the woman know who she is? After a few hours of trying to get something other than a blank stare out of the woman, Achaierai decides it would be best to leave the woman alone and let her decide when she's ready to talk.  As Achaierai turns to walk away from the woman she says "maybe we can go hunting one day?" and then finally an answer! The woman said "perhaps".  Achaierai hopes the woman comes around and hopes its who she thinks it is.

Taliesin:
while sleeping deep within his labrynth Taliesin was suddenly awoken to a change of the energy that surrounds him

"Markov help protect us, it coudlnt be?"

Taliesin lowers his head, mutters a small prayer and dissapears.

hundreds and thousands of halfing heads away Taliesin appears on a cliffs of the Pyrainn Mountains, almost at the summit.
He takes in a deep breath, in threw the nose and suddenly sneezes! shooting green and black duergar snot into the oncomming
winds effectivly covering his face with his own spewtum. oddly enough he smiles

"They are here, and from the smell of it. more will be following"

He stands proud, pulling his flail from its hilt he holds it upto the sky

"For now we wait! but when you get here you had better come prepared, FOR WE WILL BE READY!"

Archaeon:
Archaeon took a long draft of his drink, savouring the burn as the liquid warmed his throat. The bard looked around the tavern room and drank in the sights, all of them lovely to his eyes.
Yet, something was missing to the traveller. Someone important to him.
Archaeon sighed. It had been months, years even, since he had thought of his last love. And how she was taken from him so violently. He took another drink, the alcohol not doing anything to ease his pain anymore.
Standing, he flicked a coin to the waitress, who smiled at him as he passes. He smiled back, not feeling like company anymore. The call of the city beckoned, along with a new sound. One that be had long since thought gone.
Still, it was somewhat familiar.

Isis:
A shifting in the wind, the barest whisper and she was awake once again. It was abrupt and as confusing as one might feel when waking from a nightmare. The cool air brushed against her skin as she rose to peer out the windows at the darkened sky. The translucent figure at her side shifts as he murmurs.
"Something brews."

She shrugs lazily as she mutters "Perhaps."

The chill of the night breaks through her grogginess which causes her to tug her blanket tighter around her and step toward the fireplace.  She takes her place in a worn over-sized chair as she stares into the dancing sparks, brooding.

You can't keep doing this, there was nothing you could do to stop the inevitable.

Only the tightening of her hand around the crystal glass held between her fingers a sign of hearing the words. Recklessly, she takes a long drink of the bitter substance, grimacing briefly.

"You can't hold yourself responsible for this matter, Lady, you are letting it eat you up inside and it wasn't.."

The words trail off as a flash of familiar rage flashes through the woman's eyes before she abruptly rises to her feet, swaying slightly, before she whispers softly. She allows the blanket to fall to the ground and moves with cat-like grace out into the night, waving off the figure that would follow her with an abrupt motion, words hanging in the air echoing with despair.

"I should have been there."

The figure sighs, retreating back to the window to stand watch for the woman's restless midnight wanderings to come to an end. His hand solidifying just enough to press against the glass briefly before returning to his spectre state.

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