Reality Fault - Heartwood: Logs for 04August2000

Bordertown: Lady Kara's Temple
This room is bright, washed with light, windows open and airy. A simple space, it seems more suited for a morning's conversation between friends than more serious matters. A set of comfortable chairs, a table of polished oak, a carafe of wine and a plate of bread and cheese set out for the rare occasional visitor. The scent of wild flowers fills the room, each nook and cranny and shelf supporting a crystal vase and spray of color. A single icon betrays the true nature of the room, however. Upon one wall is a huge wooden cross, a simple post and crossbeam made of perfect ebony.

Midmorning and Bordertown is already at full bustle. The streets are full, the townsfolk on their daily takes, be it in merchanting or shopkeeping or partaking in one of a myriad crafts. In fact, Romana has already squirreled away, vanishing into the markets with Trystan, with blushing words asking not to be followed. It is with a soft kiss that she departs Brisa, and then drags her companion this way and that until they vanish into the stalls. For the others following Brisa's lead, they wander back up Lonely Street to the little house without a door. At their knock a bright voice simply calls out, "Come in... please..."

Brisa has a damp-burlap-wrapped clod of dirt she's carefully carrying, which is home to one of the Flowering Path's bright blooms. She steps in and calls out, "Good morn, dama?" Anuje joins the others from the other end of the street. It appears that she made a detour to the market and bought herself a cloak. It has multiple subdued colors and a black lining. It will go a long way towards keeping her warm this cold season. Brisa tilts her head thoughtfully at Anuje's new purchase... then smiles and looks around for the Krystan priestess.

Lady Kara is standing on tiptoes, watering one of her many plants that she owns. Her brilliant clothing mirrors her bright smile as she steps down. "Oh! Visitors!" She smiles, "Come, sit, can I get you all something to drink?"

Brisa holds out the flower, "Ah... maybe for this one a small drink?" She grins a little shyly, "It's for you? It's special... it's from the Flowering Path, dama." Anuje steps in behind Brisa and Roxanna, smiling and looking around the bright room. Brisa adds, "Um... I hope you like it?"

"For me?" Her smile wide, Kara vanishes for a moment, her step light. From the next room comes a clattering of pottery and the splash of water, and when she returns she has her small flower in a little blue crockery pot and a handful of glasses and a carafe. Carefully she balances them all, until she sets them down on a little table. When she sits she carefully holds the little flower in its pot in her lap. "Oh I do... it's wonderful. Thank you."

Brisa looks pleased, and settles in one of the chairs. Politely she adds, "Shall I pour, dama?" Anuje looks for a chair and sits down quietly.

Her attention held by her new gift, Lady Kara just nods, "Thank you... and this is very nice."

Brisa quietly pours water for everyone and hands it around. She has a sip, giving Lady Kara a moment to study the little flower. She waits until Lady Kara looks up before speaking again. She still looks pleased that the priestess seems happy with the flower. She glances around the room as she waits, wondering if her supposition is correct... and the runes for Krysta match those of Attera.

Looking up from the flower, Lady Kara nods. "This is very nice... I'll remember it... but you look like you came here seeking as well as giving?"

Roxanna raises an eyebrow. "You have a very good eye, milady."

Brisa looks faintly embarrassed, but nods, "Well... da, dama. I um..." She flushes a bit, reaching into a pouch and pulling forth a handful of brightly colored ribbons. She says a little shyly, "I... you have such pretty hair, dama... I was wondering, could you show me how to braid ribbons like that? I want to do that for a Midwinter's gift for a friend?" Anuje smiles at Brisa and lifts a brow. Brisa blushes a bit more at Anuje's glance!

Lady Kara blinks, and then she laughs softly. "You really like it? My Mother taught me so when I was a little child. We used to braid it into the tails and manes of the village draft horse. Pity, Masters Mohlkavin and Tannerson won't let me do it with their horses; they say it's too fine for a war-horse named Terrorfang. But yes, I'd be happy too. For one of the ones here? Or your lady who is missing?"

Brisa blinks... then can't stifle a snort of amusement! "Terror..." she laughs out loud at that! -then grins cheerfully at Lady Kara, "It will be for my companion, da, but if Lady Roxy here would like to volunteer I'd be happy to have you braid her hair so I could see how?" Brisa adds honestly, "It's very pretty, dama." A moment later she grins, adding, "Maybe I'll practice on Khari... play on her vanity a little!"

Anuje grins. "Hmm... maybe I better pay attention." She adds, more quietly, "This town could use a little color." Brisa grins at Anuje's comment.

Lady Kay shakes her head, "Men and their destriers, worse than little old ladies..." Brisa covers a giggle.

Roxanna grins. "Oh, why not. If you want to practice braiding my hair, go right ahead."

Brisa beams! "Spacebo, Roxy!" She'll eagerly shift chairs around so the ribbons are in front of Roxanna and she can chose one, and so everyone else can gather behind Roxanna easily, "Is this all right, Lady Kara?"

Roxanna says, "Just unbraid it again, or Romana will be jealous..."

Brisa chuckles, "Da, quite possibly."

Lady Kara laughs quietly, and from the mantle draws down a handful of ribbons... "Yes... try this though, remember, this is a pretty lady and not a horse's backside...

Brisa says with a dignified grin, "Khari has a very nice backside, dama!" She has to cover another giggle at that, though.

Roxanna tries to look sternly at Kara for that, but ends up giggling. "I've never noticed them to be mutually exclusive, though..."

Letting out a deep, deep breath, Lady Kara smiles, "I believe you. I've just never been... well, horses have never been partial to me."

Anuje leans over and whispers to Roxanna, "Do you think Romana's having Trystan try on finery intended for Brisa?" She grins.

Brisa gives Lady Kara a curious glance, "Schto, dama? Whyso, if I may ask?"

Roxanna says, "One ribbon, or two?" She's picked out a red one and a green one, the same colors as her belt. She winks at Anuje and whispers back, "I wouldn't be a bit surprised."

"Midwinters is like that." Kara frowns quietly. "I like giving things at Midwinter's, even if it's something very little..."

Brisa nods happily, "I also, dama!"

Anuje watches the braiding exercise, quietly taking note of Lady Kara's instructions and corrections. "Lady Kara?" Brisa watches intently.

The Priestess nods. "And you have someone shopping for you. That is even better, yes?" She then pauses, looking back to Anuje. "What do you wish, little one?"

Anuje fidgets a little. "You seem to know a lot. Much more than one would just pick up off the wind..."

Brisa beams happily at the priestess' words, still watching intently... then blinks at a sudden thought. Who spends time with the priestess of death... on Midwinter's? She makes a mental note to ask Romishkhhyra if she'd mind spending some time here then.

Lady Kara nods, "Sometimes, Anuje. Sometimes no. My children I look out for, so my gaze sometimes does accompany others."

Brisa looks curious, "Are your puppies the children you look out for, dama?"

Lady Kara chuckles softly. "They are..."

Anuje glances at the others and then back to Lady Kara. "Uhm...would you know the name of the newest bearer of the Red Scarf?" She adds quickly, "Don't say it if you do!"

The priestess' eyes go very, very wide. "Me? How would I know that? Marin's is not my nemesis... and I would think that weaseling out that bit of information... more suits your skills, little one?" Brisa brightens at Kara's comment about puppies -- she's quite pleased at having puzzled out a mystery! -then she blinks in astonishment at Anuje's question. A moment later she blinks again that the priestess actually said the chaos deity's name!

Anuje blinks, blushing a little. "Uhm... well... maybe. Maybe I thought you wouldn't mind if I weaseled it out of you." She grins. Roxanna's eyes flick back and forth between the people she can see... she'd be looking more directly if she could turn her head.

"If I did know it, I would tell... Palinate's is the one that bears my enmity, however." Lady Kara shakes her head. "And Marin's is too new to have developed a reputation."

Brisa nods thoughtfully, "That is understandable." She asks curiously, "Are the other ones old now? Or have they changed since the end of the Second Age?"

Lady Kara shakes her head. "Marin's is new... Dieata and Forlal consume themselves... and there is a young witch of Palinate, who rides a pale horse."

Brisa looks surprised, "A female? I... didn't know they did that!" She adds pragmatically, "Aren't all the eastern horses pale?" then puzzledly comments, "I wonder why the horses aid the chaos people?" She blinks at a sudden thought, adding, "Can you tell if someone's an Easterner, dama?"

Lady Kara shakes her head. "The walking dead don't care anymore, Brisa." Brisa nods slowly at that... rather icky bit of news.

Roxanna says, "Walking dead?"

At the last question, Lady Kara pauses, "If I saw one, yes. Tall and pale, slender pointed ears, a touch of magic in their blood when spilled to death. But on the street in a crowd, probably no more than any other fleeting glimpse. Though from the battlefields I have seen so many of their dead, from the Forest."

Brisa nods slowly, a fascinated look on her face as she listens -- then she blinks, "Er... did I hear you right, dama? They have magic in their blood?!"

Lady Kara, "A touch. But then I've only seen dead of their kind."

Brisa looks very thoughtful, "Why would they have magic in their blood?"

"You would have to ask them that, Brisa. But your church and theirs do not get along." Lady Kara looks down, "You are running out of ribbon... tie it off like this."

Brisa nods, watching carefully, then grins happily at Kara when she's done, "Spacebo, dama! Roxy, is it all right if I try one too?" She chuckles, adding, "I promise to take it out when done?" She adds cheerfully to Lady Kara, "I think I figured out one of your puzzles, dama, that you spoke of the other day -- the one that amuses your Lady Krysta!" She beams at that thought, then says simply, "I like learning new things."

"Oh, and which one is that?" Lady Kara smiles, "I am easily amused, to tell the truth."

Brisa opens her mouth to answer -- then pauses and says cautiously, "Er... it is permitted to discuss this, dama? I don't want to cause problems accidentally?" She starts carefully and slowly (and a little messily, of course!) braiding ribbon into Roxanna's hair as she speaks.

Roxanna says, "I think we can both promise not to get into theological arguments, Brisa."

"Everyone discusses everything with me, Brisa..." Kara smiles, "...eventually." Roxanna's eyes widen for just a moment at that. With her? Not with Krysta?

Brisa nods, reassured, then happily continues as she carefully braids, "All right, dama... in that case, you said there was one that amused your lady, and you said hush or no more puppies to them, da?" She grins a touch excitedly at Kara and asks, "So... is that person the Lady Arilys, and are the puppies your shadows, and are they loaned to her for cloaks?"

Lady Kara just blinks. "Now you have been attentive, you have... and you have just placed yourself in a bit of trouble. Both you and your companion here. There is something I must ask of you now."

Brisa looks a touch worried, "Er... I'm sorry, dama? Should I not have spoken?"

Roxanna turns, ignoring the braiding. "A bit late for that now, Brisa. What do you need to ask us, milady?"

Brisa looks chagrined. "I'm sorry, dama... Roxy, I'm very sorry."

"That you both swear by all you hold dear not to repeat what you've just said. Because if my niece found out you knew... you would be in for a world of her... meanest practical jokes." Lady Kara seems very serious.

Roxanna says, "Your... niece?"

Brisa thinks about that for a moment... then nods quietly, "I meant no harm, dama... but nyet, I will not repeat it." Then she nods to Roxanna, "She must be, if the dama is Anuje's auntie, da?"

"We are all related, one way or another... except for Dayalla." Lady Kara nods.

Brisa gives Kara a sudden, bright-eyed look, "You know that too?" She sighs, "I wish we could talk more..."

Roxanna says, "Then we shall remain silent." She pauses, fighting curiosity, but eventually losing. "One last question, though, milady. You've used 'I' and 'we' all through this discussion. You're an Avatar too, aren't you?"

Brisa blinks at Roxanna -- then gives Kara a fascinated stare -- that would explain how she knows so much interesting stuff! For a moment she wishes she could be a Dayallan avatar, so she could know more fascinating things also... then she remembers the Flowering Path and what it signifies and sighs... much though she'd love to know all those things, she's not willing to risk Dayalla's presence here to satisfy her curiosity.

"Me? An avatar?" Lady Kara shakes her head. "No. I'm just my Lady's servant. Nothing more. We will dance one day, but that's as close as we'll ever be."

Roxanna says, "Then why do you talk about these things as if you were Herself?"

Brisa says, "Maybe the dama is... um... whatever the title is for one of Krysta's ladies that's as high-ranking as possible?" She grins quietly, "Probably not something like sword master though..."

"It is because I am a Priestess, and may speak her words." Lady Kara smiles again, looking to Roxanna, "Just like one day you will speak for that... *cough*... Lady you follow."

Brisa covers a grin at that. Roxanna says, "Ah..." She grins a bit impudently. "Perhaps, milady. I do backslide now and then, I fear."

Brisa cheerfully changes the subject to try to smooth things over a bit, "Um... so then, dama, what are the runes for the Lady Krysta? Are they ah... mastery, death, and man?"

Lady Kara just gives them a look. "Yes." And then she blinks, "Yes they are, actually. Why?"

Brisa brightens, "I was right!" She beams at Kara, "Have you noticed that the ru- uhh..." she cuts off abruptly, looking faintly worried, "Umm... should I not talk about my speculations, dama? I really don't want to cause problems?"

Roxanna says, "Same runes, different order, I suspect. Best we talk with Lady Kara here and now rather than blurt something out later that we'd regret."

"We tread similar patterns, Lady Roxanna," Lady Kara frowns, "And just as I stand against your Lady, you stand against mine."

Brisa nods slowly to Roxanna, "True, Roxy... and I would very much like to talk to someone who knows, but who will not be angry with me for thinking and asking questions..." she hesitates, then continues, "We noticed that two of the Imperial deities have the same runes as two of the um..." her smile is small, "-so-called pagan ones. We... thought that was... puzzling."

Roxanna nods ruefully at the Priestess. "Still... you always win in the end. It makes the game more challenging, doesn't it?"

Brisa adds a little wistfully, "I wish I knew someone who could match up the other two deities. It would be fascinating to see who they umm... were possible derivations of?" Brisa grins even more ruefully, adding, "I have a lot of questions, actually... I'd probably bore whomever was willing to talk to me anyways."

Lady Kara almost snarls, and then she regains her composure, "And your lady can claim a soul back from the dead!"

Brisa blinks at Kara a little startledly... then says softly, "Dama, please... as you said, it is a lovely day?"

Roxanna says, "For a while, Lady Kara. Only for a while. Is that too much to ask?"

"I'm sorry. I apologize." Kara looks down quietly. "It is a lovely day, however." She does smile at that.

Brisa looks relieved, then ties off the braid with the end of the ribbon with a small flourish, "There!" She lays her first attempt flat next to Kara's smooth and elegant braiding... then struggles to stifle a giggle, "Oh, my! I need practice!"

Roxanna says, "That we can certainly agree on, Lady Kara." She chuckles. "Do I even want a mirror?"

Brisa giggles, "Certainly! But ah... just for that side, da?"

Lady Kara just looks down quietly. "Actually, it's very nice. Practice and you'll be even better. But I would go outside like that."

Brisa says pragmatically, "Well, if you were to go outside like that, I'd want to do it over, dama... I wouldn't want to embarrass you or anything!" She grins.

Laughing, Lady Kara nods, "Well, maybe only at night..."

Roxanna says, "Fair enough. We're not known for our neatness, anyway."

Brisa's waking ritual settles into a simple routine for the next two weeks. Each morning well before dawn she rises and dresses, then quietly wakes Anuje and Romana, and knocks lightly on Benedict's door. While they prepare she quietly walks down to the stables, where she starts grooming the horses.

It takes a moment, more perhaps, before Romana slowly stumbles into the stable after Brisa, brushing the sleep and a stray lock of sable hair from her eyes as she draws Dancer from her stall, working next to Brisa to prepare the horses. Benedict and Anuje also join them, and soon the entire herd is groomed and tacked up or haltered. Packsaddles are cinched onto some of the horses to carry up whatever purchases or equipment is going up to the temple today. Sometimes it's supplies for Lady Kay, sometimes a few bags of grain... everyone mounts up. Everyone except Romana takes a lead rope, and the small cavalcade quietly trails out of town via the Eastern gate, heading for the ancient ziggurat. Romana usually still looks like she's wondering just what she is doing up so early, but eventually works her way up the line until she can ride next to her companion.

Once at the mount of the ziggurat all four unload and untack the horses, neatly stacking the supplies in the remaining shelter of the small barn by Lord Random's tower. Then, after the rest of the horses have been hobbled so they can graze, Brisa snaps a longe line onto Benedict's horse and gives him a hard hour's workout in horseback riding. At some point during that lesson they pause so that Brisa can say her morning prayers as Herself rises... then they continue.

While Benedict's working with Brisa, Anuje and Romana stretch out and warm themselves up. After Benny's lessons are over, Anuje, Romana, and Brisa work hard and steadily on their dagger fighting technique. Once that is over Brisa does her own training, which varies on a 3-day cycle -- either she practices her fighting technique, or she mounts up and practices mounted archery or equestrianism.

While Brisa practices, Benedict, Romana and Anuje slowly gather the herd and get them ready to head back to town. When Brisa's done they all mount up again and head back for town -- usually at a much brisker clip than they left, for the herd is eager for their breakfasts. Once the horses are safely ensconced in the barn, complete with a light grooming and a full food bucket, the four wayfarers all troop into the Dragonstooth inn proper, hungry for a breakfast of their own and looking forward to reuniting with their companions.

Brisa's days are spent working within the ruined temple, clearing and cleaning with any who care to join her. She appreciates simple conversation and song while she works as much as a helping hand with the occasional errant branch or obstreperous fallen stone. She'll also gladly buy dinner for whomever is willing to stay with her while she works. She is, of course, somewhat pleased and surprised at how willing friends are to help... and touched at their kindness in so doing.

While the days are cool, the mountain breeze is actually comforting to those working atop the Bordertown ruins. Horses are hitched to fallen trees, dragging them to the side; a makeshift derrick set up above the Temple well shaft to lift debris and lizard carcasses from deep within its depths. A collection of oil lamps now light the buried chambers, the yellow glow illuminating the rooms for the first time since the edge of the Age. Two days it takes to drag out the spoiling carcasses from Tashka's jail. And each night of those two days Romana spends the rest of the evening in the Dragonstooth baths... soaking away the scent of dead hunting beasts. "Cute beasts... smells bads..." Both Roxanna and Brisa give her slightly incredulous, amused looks at that statement, of course.

The last afternoon, however, ends before a large fire at the center of the old temple grounds. What rooms that could be cleared are now empty spaces, and the last remains of Brisa's sisters collected for this final sunset pyre. Afterwards a blanket is wrapped tight about Brisa, driving away the last remnants of bitter cold -- the bitter, biting cold of crystal water. For that was the afternoon the fallen stones from the artesian conduit were broken open, and in a sudden rush the Temple well was now again full -- a perfect remembrance for those who fell here. For as the sky above darkens, if one looks down the well into the still water they can see, once again, the stars reflected.

Brisa is ebullient at the well's refilling! Soaked, but ebullient... she rubs herself briskly with the blanket next to the fire, trying to dry off. She's just glad she wasn't in the way of the stones when the water came bursting free. Romana settles in close to Brisa, warming her hands at the fire, looking to Brisa as the night deepens. "No cold, yes? After all this work, not sick for Midwinter's." She makes sure her companion is carefully and continually wrapped. On the other side of the campfire Dominic sprawls, the little man stretched comfortably against a well-placed log. He too helped as best he could... hauling away the little branches, moving the little stones, cleaning out the little places.

Roxanna, who has been splitting her days between helping Lady Kay and helping Brisa clean out the fortress, says, "I won't let her have a cold for Midwinter's, Romana."

Romana smiles brightly and claps her hands together. "Thank you! That the best Midwinter's for Romanas..."

Brisa grins cheerfully at her companions, "Spacebo -- I also am not wanting to be sick for then!" She unbraids her hair and uses a corner of the blanket flipped over her head to vigorously rub her hair dry.

Leaning back, Romana stretches, working out the last knots in her arms; a slow, luxurious motion. As she does her attention strays to the west, smiling for a moment as her gaze follows the Flowered Path out and downwards. Following the black haired woman's gaze, Roxanna sees it too -- a chain of five wagons, each drawn by a team of horses, slowly ambling towards the town... or, more exactly, towards the temple ruins. Brisa pushes her damp hair out of her face with a grin at Romana... then follows her gaze -- then blinks at seeing folk on the Flowered Path! "Schto?! I thought it was dangerous to walk on the Path?!" She stands, shading her eyes and watching curiously, trying to see who the approaching caravan members are -- then looks surprised again, "Er... is it just me, or do those folks look like they're coming here -- not to Bordertown?"

It is Dominic who raises his head, looking down the temple hill. "On the Path?" Being little, Dominic half stands to get a better look. Indeed, the wagons seem to be following the trail of wildflowers. As the sun sets Her last light catches on the carts. Brightly painted they are, and full sized, with roofs of curved wood and diamond paned windows and lanterns hanging off the side. "I always thought that it wasn't the Path that was dangerous, but where it led..."

Brisa says, "Oh! It's -- er, I mean they're Romany!" She brightens, "Maybe they'll answer some of my questions too!" Then she glances curiously at Dominic, "Doesn't it lead to the Dirkwood? I wonder if one could follow it, then step off before entering?"

Roxanna says, "Interesting. Most likely not, unless you can persuade them we're their friends. Or if I can..."

Brisa grins at Roxanna, "Da, that would work -- I hope!" She continues standing, watching curiously while she hastily re-braids her damp hair.

Romana just claps her hands, smiling. "Romany? Romany! Romany are always nice... well... mostly. If they like... or if polite." Brisa smiles at Romana's enthusiasm.

Dominic raises his head, pushing back his dark hair. "Or if you are family. But that's not very easy to be."

Brisa grins at Dominic, "So are you?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Dominic looks back. "I was festival born... but whom father was... well, I don't rightly know. You see, our village was so small we all didn't have room for each of us children to have a father for our own."

As those atop the hill watch, the wagons slowly draw to a halt at the base of the Temple. The horses are unhitched and a second string of horses cared for. Small figures start moving in the dusk, collecting wood for their evening's fire. A few obviously stop, looking up the hill, as if the fire atop there is just as anomalous as their arrival below. Brisa laughs softly, shaking her head and grinning at Dominic, then cheerfully waves down the hill. She glances over her shoulder at her friends, "So... go down?"

Romana considers, then considers a long while more. "They will know..." But then she swallows, "We could. If we are quiet we might hear them sing. And of course they'd read the Cards, if we asked."

Roxanna grins at Dominic. "Happens in larger places, too."

There is a pause, the figures below talking amongst themselves. Then, finally, one waves back before returning to his tasks. Dominic nods, "Perhaps. But we had to share a lot. Room, breakfast, names..."

Roxanna grins at the little man. "Of course. And the rooms were so small, the mere-beasts were hunchbacked, da?"

Brisa grins at Dominic, "You don't seem to mind sharing dinner with us after helping out here, Dominic, da?" She hms, staring back down the hill, "I wonder if they'll need water... they won't know the well here's refilled..." She glances at Romana, "They will know what, mishka?"

Roxanna says, "I doubt that they'll need water badly enough to trek all the way up this hill for it."

Dominic smiles, "You've been there? Yes, and if you thought normal merebeasts were ornery, these mere merebeasts had no room in their heads for anything except for being angry. But when they ate my brother Dominic, well, it meant we had more room in the bed."

Brisa nods amusedly, "Da, but if the alternative is trekking into town?" She glances at Dominic, "How do the townsfolk see them? Are they polite to them or nyeh?" She blinks blankly at Dominic for a second at his last comment... then laughs!

"They will know..." Romana tilts her head, "...of my hometown, yes?"

Roxanna says, "Ah... they might."

Brisa studies Romana for a moment, her expression quiet... then nods, "Maybe then we will not bother them, da?"

Dominic nods quietly, "Actually, bringing water down for their horses... that would be seen well by them."

Romana shrugs again. "They might say, might say not. Romany... helped Romanas get to... Bordertowns."

Brisa nods to Dominic, "That is easy... we have horses to carry it. Dommy, give me a hand, please?" She'll load up two small barrels with water, then lash them onto the packhorse. She glances over her shoulder at Romana, "Then we will let you decide, da, mishka, whether we stay or go?" Dominic also stands, dusting off his tunic, rustling his cloak out. Then he helps Brisa with the two barrels, patting the horse's neck when done.

"Brisas probably should go... Roxyanna too... if just to meets? Romanas promise to be quiets too..." Romana stands, adjusting the blanket over Brisa's shoulders. "Besides..." she smiles, "-could be fun."

Brisa smiles, giving Romana a gentle kiss on the temple, "Spacebo, mishka. Here, you can use my cloak to cover up and be quiet with." She makes sure everyone's mounted up (including Dominic, who's put up behind the pack saddle), gathers up the lead rope of the pack horse, then heads slowly down the hill with her friends. Romana smiles, her fingers a light brush, a simple gift upon Brisa's cheek before she draws up the hood of her cloak. Dominic doesn't even yeek as he is lifted, and with a soft chuckle he sets in comfortably upon the packhorse.

The Romany camp is an open circle, five caravans set together with three small campfires set within. Around the largest collect most of the extended family, husbands and wives, their children listening to their elders speak. A smaller one each, for the elder sons to gather... and a separate one for the elder daughters. A last fire, small, with a few places to sit about is set at the very edge of the encampment. The wagons themselves are rolling homesteads, each individual and each lovingly crafted. Their horses and critters have their own place, and they are carefully and diligently watched.

Brisa lets Khari pick her own pace down the hill, then draws rein just outside the ring of firelight on the encampment's edge. She calls quietly, "Zhdrazvuts'ya... may we approach?"

Brisa's call is answered by the approaching silent walk of an elder Rom, dressed in a sturdy tunic and trailworn surcoat. The embroidery on the borders, however, betrays a care for their garb beyond the tales told about them. A step or so behind two others follow, one obviously the first's son, the second a Romany matron. The man takes a long look at the little group before he speaks. "Evening, al'Daylna. Yes, approach... whose are you?"

Brisa nods politely as Khari paces quietly forward a few more steps, "Gospodin... we thought you might like some water from the well on the hill?" She pauses, trying to figure out what the man means, then takes a guess, "My Verchovai is the Richter Gwynn, gospodin." She studies the threesome with quiet interest... she wonders if any of them have one of those Romany blades, and would show her how to use it in the peculiar indentations in the well-stone within the temple... or if they even know themselves any more.

"Richter Gwynn. We have heard of her." He pauses, reaching up to rub his chin with one hand. "From the well? We have not heard good words about the waters from that well, al'Daylna." The younger Rom shifts, looking up the hill... at this one's side is a long, long scabbarded dagger.

Brisa smiles, "Gospodin, I believe the well is no longer poisoned, nor dry any longer." Her grin is rueful as she indicates her not-quite-dripping condition, "I took it right in the face when we managed to free the blockage." She adds thoughtfully, "However, I will happily drink from the barrels first if that would be better." She glances at the young man with the dagger... then decides to wait on asking about that.

The Rom considers this for a long, long moment. "Is it your well now, al'Daylna?"

Brisa says, "It is Hers again, gospodin." Brisa's voice has the tiniest touch of pride in it at that statement... a perhaps forgivable pride.

The elder Rom nods once, then turns his head to the younger one. "Take the water to the caravans, yes?" He turns back to Brisa, taking a step to the side. His arm sweeps out, indicating the farthest campfire. "If you wish to stay a bit? We thank you for the gift of water." He then looks to her companions, adding them to his attentions. "And your Companions, al'Daylna? They are whose?"

Brisa smiles, "They are-" she gestures as she names, "-Dominic of Bordertown, Roxanna of Trundle, my companion Romana, and I am Brisa." She nods politely again, "Spacebo, gospodin," then swings down from the saddle, handing the younger Rom the packhorse's lead rope.

A small flash of worry crosses Romana's face for a moment. It is lost on the elder Rom and his son... but quietly the Romany woman speaks up. "Your names, yes... but whose are you?" And one by one she looks at Dominic, Romana, and Roxanna, each individually.

Roxanna says, "I am Attera's, gospazha."

Brisa looks a little puzzled, then ah!s at Roxanna's comment as it clarifies what the woman means. She grins amusedly at herself, wondering who Dominic will claim to belong to... and she pauses next to Romana's Dancer, offering Romana a lift down. She'll turn, one hand resting lightly on Romana's shoulder, and says quietly, "Romana is my companion, gospazha. She is with me." Brisa mentally crosses her fingers that Romana won't be annoyed!

Romana climbs down, resting her shoulder against Brisa, accepting her companion's aid and slipping her hand in Brisa's as her feet touch the ground. She swallows and then smiles, "I am Brisa's, yes." Brisa smiles slowly at Romana's words, her face softening slightly as she glances at Romana... then she looks up at the Rom woman interestedly, to see if they identify themselves similarly.

Dominic smiles, "I'm too small to be anyone's, respectfully, al'Baro. Some might wonder if there's a touch of al'Khyanna in my blood, but I would not be bold enough to claim that."

The Rom nods quietly, glancing to the woman behind him. The woman nods once, and he turns back. "Be welcome then at the al'Kelleni guestfire this night. We can spare some bread, some cheese... and perhaps we might talk? You may call me Stefan... and this is Natya."

Brisa nods politely, smiles her thanks, then follows the Rom to the fireside with her friends. The young Rom lad takes the lead of the packhorse as Dominic slips off. He then leads the other horse into the camp. The two remaining Rom take their place at the campfire, waiting for the others to join. Romana settles in next to Brisa, reaching out to warm her hands once again. She sits close, however, close enough for shoulders to comfortably touch. Dominic just sits cross-legged on the ground, also close to the fire. Brisa opens up the blanket enough that the fire's warmth can help dry her out.

Roxanna says, "Thank you, Stefan. May we in turn offer you something?"

The elder Rom shrugs his shoulders. "Water from a Well for drinking, clear and pure, is worth more than your keepfolk coins, al'Attera. A bit of grain for the horses, though, would be appreciated. Or perhaps the learning of how there is a well upon the old temple when last year at this time all there was were the memories of dead unicorns?"

Brisa grins happily at the Rom's last comment, then looks hopefully at Roxanna... maybe she'll sing the song she's been working on? Roxanna smiles. "The learning we can give you, gospodin Stefan. And perhaps some grain as well."

Dominic nods brightly, "Well, practically, it involved a lot of lumber, a lot of rope, a strong horse, and a very, very, very wet lady."

Stefan just quirks an eyebrow, looking at the slowly drying out Dayallan. "So this is the first water from your Well?"

Brisa laughs at Dominic's comment! then grins, turning to Stefan, "Well, aside from the water that I took in the face, gospodin... da."

It is Natya that answers, a soft smile on her face, "Then we do thank you. Our meals the next few days will be such to be remembered."

Brisa grins happily at Natya, "I am glad to hear that, gospazha -- please enjoy!"

Roxanna blinks at that. "I guess it is, in a sense. The first barrels filled from the renewed well, at any rate."

Stefan stays quiet for a long while, as the stars come out across the night sky. He takes a moment, to look up, as if to count them in a single glance. Taking a breath he looks across to Brisa and company. "Do you bring news of the north and east?"

Brisa hms, thinking... then glances at Roxanna hopefully, "Dama Roxy, do you want to tell them of what we found?"

Roxanna says, "I can, I suppose, though it is really your story to tell."

Brisa laughs softly, shaking her head, "Nyeh, Roxy, isn't it really mostly Verchovai Tashka's and Dama Allena's?" She adds coaxingly, "Please, Roxy, if you will? I'd love to hear your song?"

Natya's head turns, as the names are mentioned... and it takes a moment more for Stefan's attention also to be snared. Natya exchanges a glance with her husband, then stays silent. Stefan makes a simple statement. "Those are very old names."

Brisa beams a little proudly at Stefan, tucking an arm around Romana, and nods, "Da, gospodin... of the Second Age."

Roxanna says, "Da. It was a very old curse. Bear with me, please... I am not yet finished with the song..." She tunes the balalaika as she speaks. "Brisa did most of the work, though. She's just being modest." Brisa chuckles quietly, settling in next to Romana to listen with intent interest. Romana smiles as she watches Roxanna tune her instrument. She gently leans her head upon Brisa's shoulder, her long hair spilling softly. Again the elder Rom's eyebrow quirks, his eyes narrowing for just a flash at Roxanna's choice of instruments -- but he remains silent. Natya just touches his shoulder, shakes her head, and sits back and listens.

The tune is done in a minor key, at first quiet and wistful. The words speak of the end of the Second Age, the attackers from the East, and the overwhelmed garrisons. The second verse is strummed almost discordantly, the story of the polluted well and the fatefully flawed summoning that should have brought strength to resist the One in Red.

Romana listens, her eyes closing. She turns away, burying her head against Brisa's shoulders. Her breath is short and she shivers every now and then at the horrors her people so casually brought forth. Brisa quietly and absently strokes Romana's soft hair spilled across her hands as she listens intently to Roxanna. When Romana shifts she tucks a secure arm around her, making sure the cloak is warm about her companion. Next to the fire, Dominic listens. Then he blinks. Then he blinks again, his gaze turning to take in Brisa, Roxanna, and Romana. He draws his cloak tighter about him, sparing a glance over his shoulder to where far above a pyre's coals glow soft in the night.

The third verse is minor key again, more forceful this time. It tells of the escape of the summoned ones down the Flowered Path, and the last stand of Verchovai Tashka and Lady Allena, calling the Red One by name and distracting him from his deadly hunt... the fourth verse explains the chorus... the curse that the Red One lavished on his tormenters when his hunt failed.
"Caught between Heaven and Hell
Caught between Life and Death
Doomed to walk the same path forever
As long as He drew breath."

The Romany listen quietly, so still and silent, as if they could feel the age of Roxanna's tale. The elder Rom's gaze softens as he listens to Roxanna's skill upon her balalaika, as if forgiving. Brisa sighs softly as the song ends, unconsciously hugging Romana gently close, and smiles a little mistily at Roxanna. Softly she says, "Spacebo, Roxy... that is beautiful!" She beams, then says shyly, "I... am very much looking forward to hearing you sing this in Dawnview, Roxy. Spacebo again for being willing to do that... the women deserve such a lovely song for them."

Roxanna grins. "That's only the first part."

"Cor..." Dominic just whispers, quiet. "...so empty, court pavanes are..." Then he shakes his head, looking across to Roxanna. "Thank you... I think... I think that's a tale that should not be forgotten."

Brisa nods firmly to Dominic, "I also, gospodin Dominic." Then she blinks! then flushes slightly as she realizes she interrupted. She's still listening intently, but looking a bit self-conscious. The two Romany don't speak, but they do cast the others an amused look, since they realized the song couldn't have been over. Brisa gives them an apologetic glance!

Romana just looks up to Brisa, for a moment, before resting her head upon her shoulder again. "I'm so sorry..." But her words fade away as Roxanna continues.

Brisa smiles down at Romana, then whispers gently against her ear, just for her, "It was not your fault, babochkhhya." Romana sighs softly, reaching out for Brisa's hands, squeezing tight as their fingers interlace.

The mood changes now, the music still minor key but a more martial air. An Age later, a Dayallan comes unknowing to avenge an ancient wrong, with companions gathered along the way... the song continues in the new tune, telling of solving an ancient riddle and finding a poisoned well, and the arrival not quite in time to save the two from the last death the curse would manage. The battle with the hunting lizards deep beneath the ground, and the final night in the Heartwood -- finally a night of life instead of death for the two heroes. And the final verse, telling of the summoning (though it doesn't admit to what really happened) of the Red One and Dayalla's acting through Her chosen heroine to finally destroy an ancient evil. The final chorus switches to a major chord,
"Caught between Heaven and Hell
Caught between Life and Death
Finally their pathway was changed
When He no longer drew breath!"

Dominic looks up and smiles brightly, "Hah. I just knew you were a hero! You're so tall!" Brisa beams happily at Roxy, a bit embarrassed but more pleased at the lovely song for the Second Age women. She blinks at Dominic incredulously -- then tosses her head back and laughs! Then she cheerfully applauds Roxanna, "Bravo, Roxy!" Romana looks up proudly, eyes bright. She opens her mouth as if to speak -- then just giggles!

Roxanna strums the final chords and smiles shyly. "It still needs a bit of work, I think."

The elder Rom looks across to Roxanna, clapping his hands quietly in an even, precise rhythm. "May I tell your words to others, come other evenings here, Roxanna al'Attera?"

Roxanna nods. "I would be honored, Stefan." She wonders if he is properly al'Romany, but doesn't want to screw things up by possibly using a term they find insulting. What do they call themselves?

Stefan nods, but it is Natya who speaks. "Thank you... that was a tale well told. What might we offer in return?"

Roxanna considers. Pity Benedict isn't here to get this first-hand... "There are other evils still to be fought, and our paths run together -- al'Dayalla, al'Hastur, al'Attera, and others. We are searching out all the lore we can find... can you help us?"

Brisa thinks about that... she hesitates, then gently frees one hand from Romana so she can use a finger to draw in the dirt. She carefully sketches out the pattern of the swords in the stone in the well shaft, then looks up at the two Rom, "Do you know what this means, gospazha? I am but an initiate... and unfortunately I do not know what to do with this?"

The eldest Rom looks back and smiles, shaking his head. It is not disdainful, but amused. He looks to his wife and nods, "You are the teller of stories for the gadjakane..."

Natya smiles quietly, leaning forward, resting her arms crossed upon her knees. "Long ago, when the World was broken, the Violet Eyed Girl danced and the Dark Haired Man looked towards the protection of his Family. All the old ones he knew. The Dark Ones who Hate us, for from them we cajoled the secret of life, the Firstborn who we cared for and in return they gave us their tail hairs for our balalaikas and their children who are our children now too. But still, against the breaking of Forest we had only our hands; against fangs, claws, talons, and fell magics. Al'Daylna had Her Children, and gifted them Her tears. Her swords long and Her daggers sharp..."

"So the Dark Haired Man came to the al'Daylna and said, here, might I see those daggers You gifted Your children, so long and sharp? And when She agreed, He the long daggers tossed, juggled, and with them tricks He played. And She brightened and laughed and clapped Her hands. "Oh, such enjoyment, what can I give in return, little one?" And the Dark haired Man answered "Anything?" To which She said, still in a good manner, laughing, "Aye... anything..." To which the Dark haired Man said, "Then let these daggers protect My children, and for people to know them as our talons against the Dark."

"And that is how your long knives became known as Romany daggers. True, we cannot smith them of ironsilver as your Family do, but darksteel serves us well." Natya sits back quietly... and Stefan nods with approval.

Brisa blinks a bit confusedly, "Our long knives...?" She falls silent, thinking... then says hopefully, "Gospazha, would it be permissible for me to borrow one long enough to lay it into the indentations in the temple above? I do not know what will happen, but it must be significant that the indentations are there... and if it will help Herself I would very much like to try that?"

Stefan starts for a moment, his eyes narrowing in instinctive reflex. But then he considers more. "No... that we cannot do. However, if it would be acceptable I would be willing to have Tovar accompany you to answer your question."

Brisa brightens, then says happily, "Spacebo, gospodin, I would be most grateful! Perhaps tomorrow when She is at Her height?"

Roxanna tries to smooth this over. "I think she meant that, Stefan. Brisa Marin's bane is sometimes a bit unadept with her words."

Stefan nods, "I shall have him meet you atop the old Temple at that time. I take it the entrance is no longer swallowed by time and ruin?"

Brisa grins a little sheepishly at Roxanna, "Da, I'm working on it... but you know that title really belongs to the group, not me." She turns to Stefan at his words and beams again, "Da, that would be wonderful, gospodin!"

"Marinsbane. A name with heavy portent. Especially where our cousins travel." Stefan rubs his chin, turning to Roxanna. "But you, songweaver, history teller, you haven't asked for anything in return. A tale for you... a..." He laughs softly, quietly, amused, "...a look at the Cards... or something else."

Roxanna raises an eyebrow. "What would you suggest, gospodin? I've told you something of our quest... I would leave the choice in the hands of one who knows what might help us."

The Rom look a bit confused, and then finally Natya speaks up. She nods to Roxanna and speaks softly. "Come then, al'Attera... and sit just before me here, yes?"

Roxanna hands her instrument to Romana and moves to sit where the wise-woman indicates. Brisa wraps her arms warmly around Romana and watches with bright-eyed interest. As Roxanna moves, Romana turns. Her eyes flash wide, bright, looping her own arms around Brisa in return, gently leaning in to nuzzle against Brisa's cheek and neck.

From a small purse the Romany mother takes a small object wrapped in a piece of black samite. Carefully she unwraps the soft cloth to reveal a deck of cards. Tall and narrow, the back of each card is sable pasteboard. With both hands she shuffles the thick deck, the rattle of the cards an almost magical rhythm. She places the deck between herself and Roxanna on the ground. "Cut the deck and tap it once, to let the Cards know for whom they speak this night."

Roxanna does as she is instructed, letting her mind drift into that contemplative mood she uses for talking with Attera Herself. The Romany Cardreader takes the deck back. Slowly, precisely, she slips the first card. She carefully lays it in front of Roxanna. Upon its painted face is a circle of radiating bars in autumnal browns. In the center there is a proud hart. "...the Stag... an old card... a shadowed card these last evenings..."

Shuffling the deck, Natya cuts it herself, and from the top now slips a second card. The circular pattern of bars are now of many colors in a disorganized pattern. In the center is a soft, pale disc. "An older portent, one from beyond the Mountains you call Black... the Sea of Fog..." A shuffling, a cut of the deck, and the last card is placed upon the ground. The broken circle is in browns and greens this time, and rising within is an arc of dusky gray. Natya lets her fingers pause, looking at the three cards before her. "And again, one from the age before... Twilight..."

"The Stag..." Natya speaks slowly, touching each card in turn, "... that is The Horned One, driven mad, heartbroken. At the edge of disaster you walk, a misstep and the darkness will have you. Through Fog you walk, not knowing your way. Or perhaps not knowing what is real or mists of time... having to chose between what really is... and what the minstrels will afterwards sing... and last though, is Twilight; a closing, day passing into night, one age passing into the next..."

Natya considers, looking back at Roxanna and her companions. "The Cards are but a window, a window on the breeze and currents of the world. And yet here, without a question, with but just mysteries before you... only you can answer this question, Roxanna, Brisa, Romana, and Dominic... does this card tell of a fell disaster whose truth you seek... or does it shadow your path and is a warning to be carefully heeded?"

Roxanna nods slowly. "Or both..." Brisa stares curiously at the cards, then back up at Roxanna with a smile.

Natya laughs, quietly, "Then, if you were the gadja we entertain over the next handful days, I would have to charge you twice the coin for such a reading."

Brisa looks puzzled, "Whyso, gospazha?"

"Because I would have just answered two question for one, al'Daylna." Natya takes up her deck of cards and carefully shuffles them, looking to Brisa. "Would you like a look on how The Heartwood swirls about you?"

Roxanna chuckles. "What, with two fortunes for the price of one, Brisa? What else would be fair?"

Brisa grins at Roxanna, then looks at the Rom woman and smiles with gentle rue, "Gospazha, I already know my fortune... as the old saying goes, she who lives by the sword dies by the sword. I do not care to know when, really... I want to enjoy life now."

Roxanna says, "It might give some useful hints, though. You sure?"

Brisa just smiles quietly at Roxanna. Dominic laughs quietly, agreeing with the Dayallan, "Not knowing is often... more fun. Well, at least for me. But then, being just a little one, I'm easily amused."

Romana looks to Natya and just smiles. "Romanas had cards read once. Just once. Brought Romanas here, where Romanas can place hand in another's. That's all Romana need to know for now."

Brisa flushes faintly, looking terribly self-conscious and terribly shyly pleased at the same time at Romana's words -- then tilts her head at Roxanna curiously, "What do you mean by hints, Roxy?"

Roxanna says, "Brisa... I think you should. This is a chance not to be turned down. The Cards read the truth, but... it is not a Truth that eliminates your choices and locks your feet into a foreordained path. It is a Truth that warns you what things must be dealt with."

Brisa looks a bit torn... she hesitates, glancing at Natya worriedly... then smiles suddenly at Romana, "True... and I am Brisas who is Brisas who is Brisas!" She grins then, looking up at Natya, "Gospazha, I'd be honored if you'd read them for me, please?"

Natya smiles then, and speaks, "Come, sit in front of me then..." She lays the Deck upon the ground, "And as you saw your companion do, cut the Deck, let it know who you are... and know in your heart the question you ask."

Brisa gently rearranges the cloak around Romana, then rises and seats herself fluidly before the Rom woman. Dominic's eyes dart, equally interested. Romana leans back, her fingers light upon Brisa's side as she steps away. She takes a breath, hugging herself. Brisa studies the cards for a moment, trying to frame a question in her mind. What to ask... who am I? No, that's a waste of a reading -- not really relevant to what we're trying to accomplish either... maybe what should I uh... should I be... umm... hmm... eeh, make it simple and straightforwardly honest, that's always wisest. How can I best help Dayalla? Finally she follows Natya's directions, then watches with bright-eyed interest.

Natya slowly draws the very first card. Again the card's background is a broken circle of radiating bars. This time the bars are in black and blue, the color of night. The center field is deep blue, a night sky, in which a circle of stars is painted, "...one of your Cards, al'Daylna... the Circlet which we can see in the sky above... Krysta's Dark Crown..." Brisa raises an interested eyebrow, watching intently.

Shuffling the deck again, the Rom cuts, finding a new card now on top. Again the predominant colors are black and blue in the broken circle, a touch of brown and green for balance. A tall dagger spears its diagonal, flanked by two snowflakes. "A second one of yours... Dagger of Ice, seeking of cold tears from the stars above, a path destined as sure as Her setting and rising..."

The last card Natya draws is familiar. Green and brown bars in a radiated circle, and the arch of gray in the middle. "Again, Twilight. The end of the day, drawing to conclusion before beginning anew..." Brisa gives the Dagger of Ice a faintly puzzled glance, then continues listening to the Rom woman. She wishes faintly one of the cards had been a unicorn... then smiles quietly to herself and pays attention.

Again Natya considers, looking across to the Dayallan. "Your path is only half yours... hero... this is a hand not of going but of ending. Krysta is the end of your people, the dagger your direction strong and sure. Both speak of destiny inevitable. What this would tell me, al'Daylna, is that it is dangerous to cross your path... and when you have finally come to the end of your journey, this will not be the same place where any of us walked the day before."

Brisa blinks, looking a little puzzled. She hesitates, then says politely, "Gospazha, may I ask what 'seeking of cold tears from the stars above' means, please? And..." she sounds a bit confused, "-what do you mean by cross my path, please?" Her glance sideways towards Romana is worried... is she going to be a jinx for her friends?

Natya continues, her gaze looking deep into Brisa. "Seeking order where there should be none... seeking the tears from above to give you strength to fight against a world lacking this following naturally from that. For some that is a forging of Destiny. Perhaps for you it is culling what is real from what others say it should be."

Roxanna watches Brisa sitting with Romana... order where there is no order... hmmm... She shakes her head and turns back to the fire. Brisa studies Natya quietly... then smiles faintly and just nods, "Spacebo, gospazha. That is a destiny I would be proud of, I think."

Natya smiles quietly. "I would think so."

Dominic leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He avoids the obvious consequence of the evening as he looks to Roxanna, "Fascinating... it always is... Roxanna, do you think your answer is of the lore you seek, or have I just gotten into trouble way over my head." He pauses, taking one hand and measuring how high he is. "Not that that would be too hard."

Brisa grins mischievously at Dominic, opening her mouth to comment... then just giggles softly and says nothing! She smiles at Natya and thanks her again, then rises to go seat herself next to Romana, warm and close. Romana opens her arms and wraps Brisa beneath her cloak, a gentle kiss gifted upon her cheek. "Be here besides Brisa, yes? Never against..." She looks back to the Romany Cardreader and ducks her head. "Thank you. I would ask, but in al'Kh'lhy'ra's debt Romanas already be..."

Brisa grins at Roxanna, waiting to see what she says to Dominic. Roxanna watches carefully to see the Romany's reaction to their Eastern name, here... as Romana speaks the eastern name, the Rom just nod, taking no consideration of it... or no more consideration of it than when Dominic mentioned al'Khyanna. Roxanna nods to herself, I thought so. Dominic looks to Roxanna patiently. Roxanna turns her attention back to the little rogue. "That depends on whether or not your path entwines with ours. For the rest of us, I suspect it's both." Brisa chuckles quietly.

Dominic looks at Roxanna and covers his mouth with his hands, affecting a rather remarkable blush, "My Lady, I'm not that kind of boy!"

Brisa tosses her head back and laughs aloud! Roxanna looks at the blush, momentarily puzzled... then blushes herself, and sticks her tongue out at Dominic. "Oh... you..." Brisa giggles!

Romana blinks and looks between the three, very confused. She glances towards Brisa for a moment, as both Natya and Stefan add their smiles to the light banter. Dominic sits back, however, a wide smile on his face. "And I guess for a little while our company will be shared. If it's this enjoyable then I guess I'll find the answer by seeing it unfold."

Brisa leans towards Romana, grinning as she softly whispers an explanation of the joke. She chuckles at Dominic's last comment, "You are welcome to travel with us, gospodin Dominic... Anuje thinks highly of you."

Roxanna says, "I suspect we can use your help. We're collecting quite a group here... we don't have a Ramesian yet, or a few others... and it seems we'll need a contribution from everyone eventually." Brisa wrinkles her nose amusedly at the thought of a Jvrillian or a Ramesian joining the group... then smiles and shrugs mentally. If Dayalla chooses one... oh well. She'll just have to get along with them, she supposes.

"A Knight of Rames?" Dominic looks up. "They'd be so tall they'd probably step on me without even noticing. Dangerous folks they be... especially 'round Talantal way." But then he nods, shrugging his shoulders. "Quite a lad Anuje is too. Reminds me of me when I was his age. Only taller."

Brisa chuckles again at Dominic. She adds amusedly, "I do not think we will be going Talantal-way, Dominic."

Roxanna says, "Not likely."

Romana blinks at Dominic, and then she looks to Roxanna. "It's not Rameses or Hasturs, Romana thinks... but more who the persons is, yes?"

Brisa nods thoughtfully, "I hope so, mishkhhyra."

Roxanna grins. "I think so. Look who we have already... an Eye, a Dayallan, myself, Anuje, Trystan... And we're at least on speaking terms with the local Jvrillians. Not the sort of grouping one would normally expect."

Brisa laughs! "I suppose we could call this speaking, da..." She grins mischievously.

Dominic's eyes glint, "I like that thought, yes. All stuffy and just plain humorless down west they are." Brisa nods amusedly at Dominic.

Romana pats Brisa's hand, a soft touch before she wraps her fingers with Brisa's. "Yes. Romanas see, Brisa likes Garricks and Jakemohlkavins."

Brisa blinks at Romana in startlement -- then can't stop the sudden bark of laughter! She grins at Romana, "What did you see, mishkhhyra?"

"Brisa dancing likes... and with Garricks and Jakemohlkavins, saw sparkle in eyes of having fun and folks enjoying, no? Friends... Romanas learn friends are good to have, yes? Even Romanas like them too... but dancing with Brisa, specials." Romana leans her head upon her companion's shoulder.

Brisa nods, "Dancing is far more fun than I realized, da." She beams affectionately at her companion, then just lightly drops a small kiss on the top of her head, "Spacebo for showing me that, babochka."

Across the fire, Stefan and Natya look between each other, listening to the quiet chatter. Looking back into their camp, Stefan waves a hand, and a young Romany lad returns with their packhorse. "You are welcome to sleep by this fire if you wish... for if you have no further need of us or tales to trade deep into the night, to our own family we should return."

Brisa nods politely, not rising since Romana's leaning on her, and says quietly, "Spacebo for your time and kindness, then... and danya to you all. I will be on the temple mount at the appointed time."

The two Romany rise and, with their young kith, turn toward their own campfires. Romana nods once, a simple "Thank you... " her good night to Stefan and Natya. Dominic adds his too as he stretches out in front of the fire. "May the stars guide your path, Master al'Khyanna."

Roxanna gets up with Brisa and Romana. "Until tomorrow. Unless any of your folk need me in my healer's cloak rather than my bard's?"

Romana slowly stands, gathering up the blanket, looking from the fire into the night. She stands close to Brisa, as if her presence helps ward off unseen things in the night. Dominic reluctantly stands, having been comfortable where he was. But with a shrug he brushes out his cloak. "More mis-adven- uhm... adventures then?" Brisa grins at Dominic.

Natya pauses, looking back to Roxanna. "Thank you... but for the moment, no. But your kind offer we will remember..." She frowns slightly and there is a whisper of a single word too soft to hear before she continues, "...over the next handful days, please?"

Brisa raises an interested eyebrow at Natya, "You expect trouble, gospazha, da?"

"It is five days in Bordertown with the gadjekane, al'Daylna. You do your kind honor..." It is Stefan that answers, his voice grim. "Most do not."

Roxanna says, "That... is not the way it should be. She wishes us to offer healing to all who need it."

Natya nods, "That is because your Lady is far older than her ill-behaved younger siblings, Lady Roxanna al'Attera." Brisa covers a smile at that.

Roxanna smiles at Natya. "So I have learned these past weeks. It does allow one some perspective in dealing with my Imperial colleagues."

Brisa has to cough amusedly at that one! She turns to look at Roxanna, then pauses, a thoughtful look on her face. She turns back towards the Rom, "Pardon me, gospodin, gospazha... what did you say the Romany daggers were called again? Wasn't it... stars' tears?"

Natya looks to Brisa and nods. "Stars' tears..."

Brisa nods thoughtfully, "Stars..." With slow curiosity she adds, "I wonder... if it would be smarter to try setting the swords into the indentations... at night, when it is starlit?" She looks with growing excitement at Natya, "Gospazha, might I ask your Tovar to accompany me to the temple now, tonight, please? Would that be all right?"

Natya listens quietly, looking up to the sky. She mimics her husband's motion, rubbing her chin quietly. "And it is a bright and clear night; strange for the season, isn't it." She nods to the young Rom next to her husband. "Go with her, Tovar. See what she sees, hear what she says... so you can tell me and your sisters when you return." With just a nod Tovar turns, and takes a step back into the light of the guestfire.

Brisa will make sure her friends are all mounted up (Dominic on the pack horse again), then mount up herself and offer a hand up behind her to Tovar. She grins, her eyes bright, "Let us see what we shall see, da?"

Roxanna says, "Indeed. Let's!"

The path up the temple slopes is slow and rough in the night, what little light from the single silver moon marking the trail for most. But once atop the brambled hill the way is much easier. The ancient stairs have been cleared, leading into the vaults below. There the oil lamps could be lit, illuminating the empty halls. Empty save for memories, the stained stone making the air heavy, ominous, as if the shadows of Her lost children still watched over this place. From the gallery to the chapel, and from the chapel to the well... with its strangely carved altar stone. Here the little group gathers, Romana a step apart. Above, the stars themselves dance against a sable sky, with the sound of water below a comforting, soft background music.

Brisa is very careful in the night with her friends... she goes down the stairs first so she can light a lantern for them to see to descend by, and leaves her little blue sparkly friend floating at the top of the stairs for those that have yet to descend. Once inside she makes sure no one's standing right next to the shaft hole except her and Tovar -- should something dramatic happen she doesn't want anyone falling into the well! Brisa prays, first in Ancient and then in Imperial for her friends, for Dayalla to guide her, so that she may aid Her in any way possible to reclaiming Her temple and strengthening Her presence here. Then she has Tovar lay in the dagger and step away (just in case) and then... she lays in her own sword in the indentation.

Both the sword and the long Romany dagger fit the indentations... but only to a point. Yes, the length of blade and the width of crossguard, hilt, and pommel match. But the detailing of each blade prevents a perfect fit... as if perhaps these were made of different craftsmen from the same basic principles but not the same pattern. It is silent in the well shaft for a long, long time. Even Dominic frowns for a heartbeat, looking at Brisa standing there alone. Then there is a simple sound -- the fall of a raindrop. And then a second. And a third, until Brisa stands on the altar stone, in the sudden downpour.

Brisa sighs, looking down at the ripple of water below her... then looks up into the rain, a faint smile on her face. Is this a hint, Lady? Not tonight? she thinks. Above, there is no sign of clouds at all... the rain falls from the sky... from the stars. Brisa blinks in startlement.

Roxanna breaks the silence. "I don't think this is what we had in mind."

Brisa says slowly, in wonder, "Roxy... there are no clouds..."

Roxanna steps out, startled, and looks up into the rain from a clear sky. "Bozhemoi... stars..."

Brisa holds her hands out in quiet reverence, her face upturned, "...tears from the stars... it's true, Roxy... but..." She pauses, then calls out, "What should I do now, Lady?"

Roxanna says, "Is this what they meant? Star's Tears? What is it for?"

The cloudburst lasts for but one heartbeat, maybe two. It leaves Brisa soaked to the skin, the water flowing over the altar stone, splashing over the sword and dagger lain awkwardly in the indentations, preventing them from being simply filled with the strange rain. And just as slowly, just as suddenly, the rain trickles off until all is silent again, the chapel so very quiet. Romana listens to the rain fall, watching the water trickle off the stone. And then she blinks, and simply points to the altar, her eyes suddenly wide. Brisa glances at Romana, then downwards at the altar a bit warily.

Roxanna sees it too. There, where a single droplet rested: one raindrop, one star's tear. It sparkles in the night. Not crystal, no. But white. Soft white. Metal. Ironsilver. Brisa stoops and gently picks it up, her expression wondering, "It's... metal...? So... this is where it comes from?"

Romana's hand just goes to her mouth, her eyes so very wide. Dominic just stops. "Oh, my Goddess..."

Tovar steps back once, then twice, then three times. "Mulo..." The Rom looks both shocked and terrified.

Roxanna says, "Apparently..." She looks reverently up to the stars. "Perhaps we should try it tomorrow without the swords in place. Might be that the indentations are to be filled." She looks up, alarmed at Romana's sudden fear. "What's wrong?"

Brisa is still staring at the little teardrop in quiet wonder... she shakes her head slowly, "I am thinking, Roxy-varishch, that this will require a priestess, not an initiate." She looks up finally at Roxanna, her face alight with happiness, and adds, "Captain Koromov is a priestess, Roxy!" She also looks over at Tovar a bit puzzledly.

The Rom lad continues to back away, "Tears of the dead. Mahrime. Polluted..." And with that he turns, running back through the temple halls.

Brisa looks a little puzzled, but just mentally sends her little blue friend to follow him, so he won't trip and hurt himself in the darkness. For herself, she'll quietly gather her sword and sheath it, heedless of her soggy condition, then gather the Romany dagger up in the blanket. She smiles, looking up the well shaft, and murmurs quietly, "Spacebo, Lady... spacebo, my sisters. I will be back with a proper priestess soon, I hope." Then she turns to walk out of the temple for the ride back down the hill. "I hope Tovar didn't try running down the hill alone... and I should return the dagger, I think also?"

Dominic just sits down quietly. "Oh, Goddess. You really must be laughing up there at me, aren't you? And this isn't even funny..."

Brisa gives Dominic a perplexed look, "What is it, Dommy?"

Romana just looks at Dominic and nods. But it is Dominic who speaks first. "Brisa... don't you understand? This is how ironsilver is made. Not only will folks kill to learn it..."

Romana finishes Dominic's sentence, "...wouldn't Priestess kill that secret let out?"

Brisa smiles quietly at Dominic, "Then don't tell anyone you were here, tovarishch. I certainly shan't be... and I can't imagine Dayalla doesn't know exactly what She's doing." She offers Romana a hand as she says calmly, "Shall we?" She adds quietly and gravely, "You just might want to promise not mention this at all, mm?"

Romana simply takes Brisa's hand and holds on. Her grip is strong, holding on desperately -- as if her very life depended on it. Her eyes are wide, and she is scared... but her gaze also speaks deeper. She has already given Brisa her heart... and now she is trusting her with her life.

The Romany camp is a noisy bustle as Brisa and Roxanne approach, the far campfire a tumble of harsh syllables and panicked voices. But when Stefan and Natya return to the guest fire, calm words win out. A young lad over his head... and his elders listening to the al'Dalnya explain. Tears from the stars... tears from the dead... but not the rising of the dead themselves. A gift from beyond the curtain, and not the lost souls seeking mortal habitation. Not to be treated lightly at all... but such a gift is not mahrine. Words of warning were better taken... and then another goodnight and bid farewell.

Roxanna made a point that afternoon of wandering the Bordertown market, nodding politely to local and Romany both, and watching to see if there were any signs of incipient unpleasantness. Brisa had quietly accompanied Roxanna, if she'd not seemed to mind... and had taken care of a few last minute bits of shopping for Midwinter's as well.

Bordertown: Dragonstooth Tavern Commons
The tavern commons is a crowded and bustling place. A short man shaped like a sturdy barrel tends the bar, his voice loud and boisterous. The tables all match, and a pair of very well dressed girls carry buckets and mugs, delivering drinks with a delightful swirl of their long skirts. Merchants and mercenaries seem to be the primary patrons, both alone and in little groups. And there behind the bar is what seems to be a huge jawbone, below which are racked row upon row of kegs and barrels. A single ivory tooth pokes out, a solitary fang.
Soft afternoon light washes across the commons of the Dragonstooth Inn. No trailside hall is this. Instead it is light and airy, slender marble columns rising up to heavy timber rafters. The light falls in from a tall arcade where a second balcony overlooks a central courtyard. Banners of all sorts hang from the walls. Many sport the checkerboards of the horses below though some bear more Noble patterns. The tools of a soldier's trade line the walls, shield and old spears, a sword or two here and there.

It proves true the next night -- no harm made. For while Tovar isn't seen, the Rom make their first appearance in the markets and taverns, mostly quiet and private, mostly shy and to themselves. They are gone before dusk, returning to their camp, the last nodding to Brisa and Roxanna as they take their leave of the Dragonstooth. Romana watches them from her place at the commons table. "Safe... safe I think, yes?"

Brisa says, "Safe how, mishka?"

Romana takes a breath... looking back between the two. "Romanys still like us, yes? And so far, saw no troubles today... but..." Romana frowns quietly. Brisa nods quietly in response to Romana's words, her gaze returning to the room. She's glad the Rom aren't afraid of them... she knows how vital a known bolt hole can be in an emergency.

Roxanna says, "But?"

Brisa waves over Reveka and orders them all some dinner, then glances at the other two women, listening. She murmurs softly, "But Michael's Dark Mark is spoiling for a fight, I think, Roxy-varishch."

Romana slips her hands in her lap and sighs. "Only saw during day... not at night, yes? Bad comes, after sun sets..."

Brisa gently rests a hand on Romana's, "We do what we can to make things better, slatke... but we have to recognize we are not deities... we cannot make everything all better. Not even sure the gods can do that."

Romana nods, "Romanas knows... not that big of fish. But when trouble comes, it will not be in the light of days, that's when one worries... and all of Midwinter's, that not light of days."

Roxanna nods. "It all depends on people, though; and if folks are planning to make trouble later, they'll show it during the light."

Brisa nods quietly, "I know, mishkhyra. I am sorry." She thinks a bit, then endeavors to change the conversation to cheer Romana up -- or at least distract her, "So, mishka... you were telling us about gods, da? So... which god did King Yrick follow?"

Blinking, Romana looks back up. "Yrickkian? The one in the stars, the First King? He did not follow my family's gods... and little ones all were growing. Then, before Forgotten Fleet... maybe Rames, but as a child... all followed Dayalla mostly then, that what tales tell... built keeps, ruled right... till Long War."

Brisa looks faintly puzzled, "But if it was before the Forgotten Fleet it couldn't have been Rames, da? Especially if the other gods were all still um... 'little'? And if he followed Dayalla..." She looks rather bemused, "Men followed Dayalla? Can they do that?"

Romana blinks, looking back to Brisa. "Romanas not know... Dayalla Brisa's Friend!"

Brisa nods slowly, thinking... then says softly, "Then... who are your family's gods?" She muses slowly, "Men following Dayalla... what an idea...!" She looks fascinated. Romana opens her mouth... and then glances around the tavern. She closes her mouth then, quickly, suddenly, and shakes her head.

Roxanna blinks. "And why not? Is it the Gods who now forbid it, or is it just tradition?"

Brisa tilts her head at Romana, then just nods quietly... she turns to look at Roxanna, "I... honestly don't know, Roxy-varishch. But... wouldn't it be nice if they could?" Romana just looks at Roxanna, and Brisa recognizes the glint in her companion's eyes... the one close to panic. Brisa raises an eyebrow, but just lightly lays a hand on Romana's. Her voice is low, calm, quiet, very pragmatic... like talking to a panicky horse, "So... would you like some venison tonight, mishka?" Hopefully the sheer mundanity of the question will let Romana pull herself together.

Romana takes in a deep, deep breath, nodding quietly. "Venison... good. Romana... Romana would like... venison. How fresh, Brisa thinks it is."

Brisa gently and slowly strokes her hand reassuringly along Romana's arm and hand under the table... she smiles quietly, and her tone remains the same low, calm tone as she talks for a few moments about mundanities with Romana. Then she says, "Roxy, mishka, I am thinking dinner in our room would be nice and peaceful, da? Would you both care to join me there?"

Roxanna says, "Why not? Romana?" Romana looks very relieved, and quickly gathers up her plate... and her drink, hugging them to herself as she heads down the stairs...

Some time later everyone's comfortably sprawled across the bed, nibbling on dinner. Brisa waits until most of the food's been hungrily devoured before she brings the subject up again... "Mishkhhyra... do you not wish to speak of family gods? We will not ask if it is so painful?"

Romana looks to Brisa a bit curiously, but then sits up. She sits a little apart, hugging herself, her head ducking. "Because... not painful... not forbidden... not follow family's god... too terrible they are."

Roxanna nods. "That's all right, Romana. Tell us about them, then. If you don't follow a god yourself, we understand."

Romana looks to Roxanna, looks to Brisa, swallowing. "Al'lhahrhonshah gods... old... older... oldest."

Roxanna lets the quiet linger after that admission. Finally she nods again. "I see... What sort of god would you like to follow?"

Romana swallows and looks back so very, very quietly. "Never... never thought of such. So few gods would have Romanas, pointed ears and all... would be one... that said... it good to help... that on own, folks judged, yes?"

Roxanna says, "I would think so..." She smiles, party at Romana and partly to herself. "Do you think you could learn to be a healer, my dear?"

Romana just blinks, looking back at Roxanna, her eyes going wide. "A healer... Romana a healer? Who would teach Romanas that?"

Roxanna just grins. "I might be persuaded to. That's part of my job."

"Romana child of Attera?" The pretty Easterner blinks, shocked, her eyes growing wide. "But Imperials young... hate Romanas, no?"

Roxanna says, "I doubt it. Attera isn't as young as the other Imperials, we've found... and She is the Lady of Mercy. I don't think She hates any who would help instead of hurt." She sends a thought upward as she speaks. Could You do this, Lady? She is a good person, I think, no matter where she was born. If she has it in herself to learn the healing arts, would You accept her?"

The wind whispers through Roxanna's hair, a soft and gentle touch... like when... when... and then it hits her, a memory never brought forth before, but just as sure. As if her mother, whom she never knew, were stroking her little Ann's hair. No words needed, nothing more... because Attera is Mercy for all... for all.

Romana just ducks her head, so very, very low. "Romanas knows how folks feels. Fact of lifes, lives and goes on, no?"

Roxanna smiles to herself, then. She had thought that the creed of the Lady of Mercy was not just empty boasts... and she smiles again at Romana. "It is ultimately up to you, Romana. But there are some Gods who would accept you. Attera will, if you choose to devote yourself to healing. I daresay Dayalla might too, if you do not feel yourself a healer." She favors Brisa with a questioning glance, "Certainly one of Her children favors you already."

Brisa smiles. Romana looks to Brisa and just blushes. She smiles then also, so very sweet. "Romanas loves Brisa, Roxanna. From heart... and soul." But then she lets out a long, long sigh. "But Romana never be a Dayallan... not with swords can Romana fight... but truly... truly, Romana... Romanas believes that one should never take harm of another. And Romanas would... Romanas would like to be able to... help. It feels... right. I see Brisa help folk, change world... what can Romanas do. Roxanna, so very loved and kind... do good work."

Roxanna grins, thinking this might indeed be a good thing. Certainly the best protection she could have in the Western lands, isn't it? "In that case, then, I'll start teaching you what you need to know."

Romana pauses, looking to Roxanna, "Roxanna would ask for Romanas... and that teach? Think Romanas would fit?"

Roxanna says, "I certainly would, Romana. If you wish to learn to be a healer, I'll teach you. Eventually, if you wish to make a formal commitment, I'll take you to see Lady Kay." She adds, "There are restrictions, of course... we're only allowed to accept voluntary donations for what we do, and we're not allowed to fight... but we rarely ever need to."

Romana listens quietly, and then leaps forward, wrapping her arms about Roxanna in a sudden and tight embrace. One heartbeat and then two, before she scrambles back, a playful sprawl, eyes bright and shining. "Would like... would like to tries, please."

Roxanna oofs in surprise at the sudden hug, and is still reacting when Romana withdraws again. "It's not all easy work, and parts of the job are difficult and unpleasant. But it's a necessary job, and I suspect it might be the easiest way for you to fit in here in the West. Nobody questions the origins of any of our order, after all."

Romana looks to Roxanna and shakes her head. "Romanas tries her best... and if fits, not because safest for Romanas... but fits because Romanas are Romanas are Romanas..." And then she pauses, quiet, her head ducking once. "Roxanna?"

Roxanna nods. "And that's the way it should be, dear heart. I think you'll do quite well with us."

Romana smiles, earnest and true, "Thank you."

Bordertown: Dragonstooth Tavern Room
Down a set of stairs, down a small hall, and the polished wood door to the room opens... and inside it is as rich as the commons above. Wood floor and paneled walls, a diamond paned window opening to the court -- a casement too, already half open to let in the fresh air. A small padded couch and a wooden chair are set next to a wooden trunk, and atop the table a pitcher of water and a basin. Dominating the wall beneath the window is a four poster bed. It has a quilted comforter and two pillows.

The last few nights before Midwinter's, and Bordertown is a bustle. The merchants hawking their wares, from gifts to food and wine to support the many feasts; Brandreth's is already in full swing for the storm season celebration; while the atmosphere in the Dragonstooth is one heavy with anticipation. A few souls keep their calm, like Captain Garrick and Captain Mohlkavin... but rumors have it that further down Sword Street one might not wish to tarry, for the Mark seems to be in a dark, dark mood. Even so, especially with the night coming so early, when dusk comes the town quickly settles in to sleep. Perhaps folks are just storing up their rest like groundfoxes their acorns, in preparation for Midwinter's Eve. Except, of course, for Romana -- contrary to a fault.

Her loose chemise a'tumbled about her, Romana lets her head rest gently upon Brisa's shoulder, her sable hair a light fall against her companion's neck and shoulder. Long fingers slowly trace the outline of Brisa's hand before warmly entwining, as Romana looks out the diamond paned windows, out to the stars. She blinks and quietly questions, simply and honestly, just wishing to learn. "Do... do the stars above to each other talk?"

Brisa sighs softly, enjoying the touch and scent and sound of her beloved lying close to her, enjoying the momentary quiet between emergencies... she smiles, cuddling Romana warmly, then says softly, "I don't know for sure, mishkhhya... but I would guess so?"

Romana nods, her white teeth caught upon her lips as she thinks. "What do stars talk about?"

Brisa tilts her head to glance out the window curiously herself, "I... don't know, babochka... I suppose you could try asking them? I know when I wasn't sure whether or not to make the Greenland run or not, Verchovai Tashka spoke to me, and reminded me that Allena had been indispensable to her sanity for the Age they were both caught here." She lightly nuzzles Romana's dark, glossy crown, then murmurs softly, "Why do you ask?"

Romana rolls over so that she might wrap herself about Brisa, long legs entwining, the touch of their ankles drawing a smile to her face. She slips one arm beneath the pillows, her fingers then light upon Brisa's shoulder. "Rommicats are always curious, yes? Often just wonders, thinks, asks questions that some say silly; sometimes, sometimes right questions to ask."

Brisa smiles, lightly brushing dark bangs out of Romana's face, "Is fine, mishkhya... was just curious myself." She's silent for a moment, visually tracing Romana's lovely, pale face with quietly wondering eyes... then she says softly, "Romishka... do you remember the night before we met the Red Avatar? I came around the corner and you said something... do you remember that, babochka?"

Romana looks up and blinks. "Romanas speaks lots. Father used to say... what is word... Romanas are chitteringcrate?"

Brisa grins in spite of herself, "Um... chatterbox?" She adds, "Well, um... I'm not sure I remember it real well now... let me see..." She pauses, thinking, then says slowly and uncertainly, "Umm... shalm-something... something-shishka... then my name, sort of -- Brisa'shka, and then your name, but longer, and with that blood thing on it, I think? It was like um... Romanishkamarrishka sort of, I think?" She looks a bit worried, "Um... what does all that mean, please, mishkhya?"

Resting her chin on Brisa's shoulder, Romana nods. "That is... right. Sometimes Romana talks too much."

Brisa looks a bit more worried, "Uh. Really." She pauses, then lightly runs a finger along Romana's jawline, "Tell me please, babochka?"

Romana closes her eyes at the soft touch, and then she blinks. She blinks once... twice... and then just buries her head against Brisa's shoulder, her ears and cheek turning brightest pink, "Word is... mahrishkhya... and... and... Romanas... wishful dreamings..."

Brisa looks a bit startled -- then grins with affectionate amusement at the bright color Romana's ears have turned! She'll gently draw her finger in a light trail down one of them, and murmur, "Don't be embarrassed, slatke... everyone has dreams. It's what makes us keep trying, da?" She'll drop a light kiss on Romana's glossy hair, then add quietly, "Share with me, babochka?" As she waits she curiously and carefully mouths the word, "...mah-rrish... khhyaaa... something-love?"

Romana shivers, her breath catching as Brisa strokes her ear, and she draws herself closer, her lips softly pressing against her companion's throat. "It... it is sharing... friend... sword friend... bed friend... mate friend... and it is... blood friend. Marin... marishkhya... closest two can be. Mate you can lose, bed friends change... marishkhya... forever."

Brisa sighs softly, feeling rather tingly at Romana's actions, and having a bit of trouble concentrating on her words, "Mmm... umm... sword and blood friend? What does that mean please, m-mishkhhya?" She shivers slightly, then gently hugs Romana close... she feels wonderful! Then she blinks, her attention suddenly focused off of Romana, "Did you say Marin is associated with this?!"

"Sword friend..." Romana lays her head back upon Brisa's shoulder, her free hand rising to trace Brisa's soft slopes from collarbone to belly, a gentle and luxurious exploration. "Sword friend... two who fight side by side, back to back, trust with life... blood friend... marishkhya... mix blood... one to one... when one hurt other knows... when one weak, can from other strength gain." At the change in Brisa's tone, Romana blinks, "No... Marin is lord of carnage, yes? But also marin, marin word for blood, runs through heart, made warm when Brisas smile."

Brisa says, "Oh! So... that's the word for... blood..." She relaxes, thinking about Romana's comments with fascination, one arm still warm around Romana, and her free hand lightly stroking Romana's tumbled mane out of her pale face, "So... this must be something warriors do where you come from? Or..." she sounds a little confused, "You... want to learn how to fight...?"

Romana looks up, her eyes wide. "Fight? Romanas... Romanas and swords... look... very..." She blushes again, burying her head against Brisa's chest. "...silly. Just one of different type friends, yes? That's all. Will always stand besides Romana's Brisa... but with Romana skills, not sword."

Brisa looks faintly relieved, although Romana can't see her face, "Ah! I think I understand better now." She hugs Romana quietly close, closing her eyes as she smiles happily and rests her head against Romana's, inhaling her scent with pleasure, "Slatke, don't feel bad... why are you embarrassed by your dream? I think it's lovely."

Romana leans forward to gently brush her cheek against Brisa's, the fall of her own lashes, as sapphire eyes close, the lightest caress. She whispers quietly. "Not... embarrassed... just... just scared... to reach too far, too soon, and lose all. Romana understands married, yes? Even in Kh'lhy'ra... but always can leave married... marishkhya cannot... forever it is... and Romana hopes, and each time Romana touches Brisa, each kiss one step closer..."

Brisa smiles softly, her eyes quiet and patient, "Mish-...babochka... this is something you need to know for yourself first. Forever is a very long time... I am happy to wait -- it makes me so glad to be here with you! -but I want you to know truly and deep inside what you want. Never do I want to see the day where you look at me and are bored... but I know that can happen where one rushes too soon, and doesn't learn the other inside and out, like fingers on hands, to know that both fit together close and warm like sister kisa." Brisa gently cups Romana's pale face in her own strong, tanned hands and smiles again, "Would be wrong to close my hands on such a lovely babochka... I would rather see you fly bright and free than that."

Romana's sparkling, bright blue eyes meet Brisa's, her own hand reaching up to slip through Brisa's soft hair, her smile so bright. "Romanas just cannot understand how one could ever think that with Brisa the world can be boring. Each day, each day new and bright, and so much to do... and without a Brish'khya smile, the hollowness of market after dusk." Softly she leans forward to gift Brisa a kiss, a kiss and a sigh. "Romana wishes... but Romanas wait. Can only choose marishkhya once... and when time is right. And Romanas wish time to be right... not for Romanas... so that it so perfect for... for you."

Brisa smiles quietly again, sliding her hands down Romana's back in a slow caress as she closes her eyes and tilts her face up towards Romana for the small kiss... she sighs softly herself, her eyes opening dreamily, and murmurs with lazy pleasure, "What's it like, slatke? What do you do? Who do you know that's done it?" She adds curiously, "And how do you know?"

Romana shakes her head, "Romana only knows stories... and what magics taught, what minstrels sing. When one happy... other knows... when one sad... other knows... when one hurt... other knows... and strength can lend. It is... never lonely again."

Brisa looks a little puzzled, absently stroking her hands along the long, smooth curve of Romana's back, "So... it is like... like sharing thoughts? What do the minstrels say of it?"

Romana smiles, her back arching as she stretches, "...kkhhhyyyaaaaaaaaaaaa..." Her eyes close, "Romantics it is... they sing... true love... pledge of heart, pledge of life... that one would give to another. No, thought not shared... just feelings. Brisa would know how much Romanas love Brisas. Not just words, but warmth of blood."

Brisa blinks at Romana's words, then flushes slightly. She beams quietly to herself, turning her head a little to hide, like Romana did earlier, and continues gently stroking Romana, slow and gentle, like she does with tired or nervous horses... although, she reflects with quiet humor to herself, this is an entirely different tactile pleasure! A little muffledly she murmurs, "So... you don't know anyone that's done it? What do the marishkhya romantics do? Are they heroes, or just lovers together, or what?"

Romana's own hand reaches out, returning Brisa's caress with one of her own, eyes half-lidded, her breath a sigh. "Romanas not know... mariskhyaa, true mariskhyaa rare, Brisa, like when both moons shine above the sky blue. But the minstrels, oh the minstrels..." The young woman just shivers, not from her thoughts, but by her companion's touch. "Dahnilys and Rhennish, lovers, their bond reaching from childhood beyond their death... or Kherrisala who was hero Jhennik's mariskhhya... who stayed behind in Kh'lhy'ra... when she from tall tower herself threw, Corhlay knew lost hero al'Jhennik at massacre at Silk Creek Bridge."

Brisa blinks, stiffening slightly, and there's a suddenly very alert tone to her voice as she asks, "Wait... when one dies the other wants to die too?"

Romana leans close to Brisa and gently kisses her chin. "Some do... some don't... all songs different... all marishkhyaa special."

Brisa sighs softly, regretfully, "Oh, mishkhya... but how could I ask you to share that with me? You heard me the other night... remember the old saying? 'She who lives by the sword dies by the sword'?" She hugs Romana very tightly close, "I could not do that to you, babochka. I... don't ever want to hurt you so..."

Romana just looks to Brisa and smiles softly, melting her gentle figure against Brisa at her embrace. She blinks and whispers two soft words, "Too late."

Brisa gives Romana a slightly shocked look, "I... when did I hurt you?!"

Romana smiles again, reaching up to just so lightly tap Brisa on the nose. "Brisa has never Romana hurt... but too late. I love you. If Romana lose Brisa, will hurt to death. So. Simple. Will not let happen."

Brisa opens her mouth to retort -- then suddenly blinks as her breath is stolen away, as Romana's words register... she blinks again slowly at Romana... then finally remembers to say something, "Uh!" She blinks again, then blushes -- oh, that was smooth! Now what do I say, so she doesn't think I'm a gawping idiot?! Unfortunately her mind stays obstinately blank, except for those three shocking, wonderful words... she's heard them before from Romana, but... wouldn't it be nice if they were true? -even though... even though princesses don't do things like that in any of the stories she's ever heard? She abruptly just wraps her arms tightly around Romana, hugging her tightly, warmly, protectively close -- she may not be able to think of anything clever or witty or wonderful to say, but maybe her actions will speak for her. A little distractedly she wonders if Romana can hear her heart hammering in her chest -- does she know what saying that does to Brisa's insides?

The pretty princess in Brisa's arms just curls right up, matching her figure to Brisa's, holding her just as tight. Brisa can feel her smile as she snuggles so close, her whisper amazed yet simple and sweet, "Romana can hear Brisa's heart."

Brisa is still a little shocked, and so says the first thing that comes to mind, "Uh... it's not too loud, is it?" -then blinks slowly... then blushes, "I... cannot believe I said that...!"

Romana just laughs, so light and fine, like music, "Oh, Brish'khhya... Brisa's heart sounds... beautiful."

Brisa grins a little sheepishly, and just keeps hugging Romana for a while -- it feels so nice! She nuzzles gently against Romana's hair, smiling quietly, then murmurs a little muffledly, and very shyly, "Slatke... I... I am Dayalla's, you know that... but... well... if -- if Herself or a unicorn would not mind, and if you still felt like it, then... well, maybe in the spring or something? -I mean, just if you still wanted, you know... um... maybe... we could try that then?"

Romana just smiles and nestles in to Brisa, a so very contented smile on her face. "Romanas love Brisas. So how could not accept Brisa is Dayalla's first... unicorn's second... and then Romana's? Romana fall for Brisas... not Romanas image of Brisa."

Brisa blinks in quiet astonishment... how'd she get so lucky? What did she do, that Dayalla's being so kind to her? She beams a bit bemusedly at Romana, curled up warm and close, and agrees gladly, "All right!" even though she's not exactly sure what she's agreeing to... but it's with Romana, so it must be all right.

"Romana not a dumb pastry." Romana smiles and pats Brisa's tummy. "What is slatke? Sound like fish. Romana big fish..."

Brisa blinks again -- then struggles to stifle a startled laugh! "Ah... slatke, it is... well, not exactly a pastry. It is how they taste? Like honey, so good?" She thinks a moment, then grins, "Sweet! I was calling you sweetling." She grins again, happily, then lightly and teasingly licks Romana's ear!

Romana's eyes close and she just hugs Brisa tight. "Oh... that so nice is... thank you... babochka... is that similar? Romana knows it's nice, from how Brisa speaks, but always curious."

Brisa chuckles, "Oh! Nyeh, babochka is different." She smiles dreamily, lightly rubbing her cheek across Romana's silky hair, "They are in the springtime... they dance with the brisas, with the breezes, like bright jewels from flower to flower... sometimes if you are still and patient they land on your hand for a moment, and then oh! they are so beautiful, up close!" She sighs, still smiling, "-but then, soon, they return to their dancing. That is why I call you that, babochka... because if you close your hand on one you destroy it, with sadly dragging wings and it cannot fly any more... but if you do not try to master it, if your heart is big enough to let beauty go free, then you get to share its finery and joy, even if for just a moment..." She pauses, thinking carefully, then nods, "My mother used to call them as a joking... flutter-butter-by-and-byes." She smiles quietly again, her eyes a little misty with memory, then murmurs shyly against Romana's hair, "That is how I see you sometimes... like the bright butterflies, dancing for joy of living..."

Romana smiles, "Flutterbyes... " She look up and blinks, her cheeks and ears turning so red. "Romanas as pretty as flutterbyes? Not silly joke, no... that's what called, upon thousand towers. Oh, Brisa... Romanas wish, such nice words for Brisa have. Brisa's mother very wise, no?" And she reaches up to slip her fingers along Brisa's cheek. "Romanas glad Brisa a mother had, even if not birth mother. To care and teach about flutterybyes..."

Brisa blinks slowly at Romana, feeling a tingly heat rising inside her, and wonders bemusedly at how amazingly lovely her babochka is, all flushed like that... she draws Romana slowly close and whispers softly in one curved and pointed ear, "Teach me, slatke... we will share learning, da?"

Last modified: 2000-Aug-10 23:43:13

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