First necessity is to identify ally and enemy. We stand out in this crowd; there is no room for subterfuge, even if there wasn't someone in particular whose eyes just crossed the entrance.

Second observation, this is an open hall. We will have bodies hastily leaving, bodies trying to get in our way, and bodies standing aside, perhaps even infighting going on, depending on their affiliation and motivations. Though we should be cautious about being surrounded, caution may over slow our advance, and give them time to adapt and counter.

In any case, Aranwen knows what she must do...

New avatars... wonder if it's about time for me to update mine *considering...*

That is one very powerful looking portrait there Brom

Winter arrived early this year. Crops froze with the frost, and the lake had completely frozen over. There was no snow, but it was surely a matter of time with the bitter chill in the air. Without the bounty of the harvest, the village seemed as though it would falter. Perhaps even starve. A few townsfolk left to see what goodwill they may have been able to receive of neighbouring villages.

Yet as they left the area, they found not only were their neighbours unaffected, but the cold itself faded the further they went.

Many families left, coming to believe that the area had become forsaken by Kith-Jora, or perhaps wrest from the proper flow of the seasons by Khamaruz for unknowable reasons. Other villages did provide aid to the people that stayed, and tales of the winter locked village spread to the city, especially with the appearance of snow without any clouds to carry it.

Such tales caught the attention of the Eyes of Creation, and a few of their number gathered to visit the afflicted settlement.

It took them little effort to learn that what afflicted the town was caused neither by Kith-Jora nor Khamaruz - it was something else entirely. Something old, from a time long forgotten. Something that had taken up residence in the nearby lake, now shrouded by a shimmering mist at all hours.

Seeking to understand, to see what they would, the Eyes journeyed to the edge of the lake. There, the mists parted at their approach, revealing the frozen lake, but nothing visible upon it. They looked and looked, but though they knew they were where they needed to see, they were not seeing anything.

Then, one of them stumbled upon the icy surface, and cried out, pointing down into the lake.

On the other side of the reflection stood an icy castle, large enough to blot out the sky from the lake's surface...

And I was going to have Lt. Tal ask about the known locations and possible trajectory of the Serapis to cross reference with the distress beacon coordinates in her analysis, too  

A cross reference of the two sets of words shows some strange differences. A'rna are the lesser fey, where O'rna is the material plane of Audalis. How did this happen?

In my mind, I considered it like this:

Originally, you had the A'nia and the O'nia of the shared dream, the fae deities and the outsider deities, in a manner of speaking
The individual denizens of each referred to as A'rna and O'rna, the people of the fae and the people of the outsiders
Then the denizens of power that could create and destroy on a smaller scale, the A'rnia and the O'rnia. Greater fey and high grade spellcasters.
At this time, niorna as a word didn't really exist. There was another word at the time for dream
Then you have the exodus of the fae, where the A'nia withdrew from the material world, building together their world of dreams, the A'niorna, where niorna was a blend of denizen and creation, a place for denizens, later adapted to simply 'dream'
At this time, the A'nia held the O'nia in contempt for letting their shared dream falter as a result of the denizens they influenced; the word o'nia became something to laugh at, and the entities that were the O'nia were grouped together with the O'rnia
If the A'nia made A'niorna, then that only meant that the domain they had left would be the O'niorna
But over time, the fae came to associate O'niorna with what they had left behind, the old world, the world some would like to see once again
O'rna, now in disuse because there were none in A'niorna, came to reference not only those denizens, but the world from which they hailed, the material plane of Audalis of the present.

I don't know how well this will mesh with the history and language evolution in general, but this is what went through my mind as I formed the words and assigned meanings to them

I said it before and I'll say it again; thank you for inviting me to partake in this story. I can't help but wonder how things may have been different if I were there for the beginning, but I'm glad to have made it enjoyable from where I picked up the bladesinger come to be Aranwen

I had not played the role of the leader before in an adventuring group prior to this, and so it has been a very unique and enjoyable experience for me. To see her in both a place of strength, and a place of weakness, I've gotten to see her from a variety of angles. Really, I can't understate how much I've connected with her, even in as short of a time as it has been, and it's been lovely.

Really, all the hearts for everyone

The word A'nia loosely comes from Titania if you tilt your head to the side a bit and instead see 'The A'nia'

Yes, I wanted that reference in here somewhere

So far, I have one word in fae - A'nia

From this, I can break it down into particles and roots

nia - dreamer
niorna - dreams (derive from modification of 'nia')
rna - craft/creation/art (derive from the other half of niorna)
rnia - artist/maker of things

a' - particle - related to or belonging to A'nia, similar to the use of 'royal' as an adjective

A'nia - queen/mother/dreamer
A'niorna - the world of dreams; the Wyld; the fae realm
A'rna - the lesser fae of all kinds
A'rnia - the greater fae dreamed by the A'nia, those with significant power

If I add another particle as relating to the "undreaming world" as the fae would call it (Audalis)...

o' - particle - related to or belonging to O'rnia/Audalis

O'rnia - creator/deity/shaper of the undreaming world
O'nia - an oxymoron to the fae - from the fae perspective, the deities of Audalis don't dream given that they've let what once was their shared dream/world become so different. Used as a word for 'impossible' or 'inconceivable', ie in similar cadence to 'when pigs fly' - "Like an o'nia? Hah, as if"
O'niorna - archaic word in fae used to reference Audalis - specifically 'the old world'
O'rna - Audalis of the present time - "the undreaming world"

This is all pending further thoughts and considerations but, first steps in trying to make a fantasy language, maybe?

Eol using the Kazari native tongue so easily makes me a little bit jealous - I only have one word in the language I'm trying to figure out!

Oh well, one word is still more than none

Especially the part where Tal overanalyzes the message... that'll be coming up

Well... From screens we know what Davena intends Kithran for. And about a month has passed...

This may be Davena's second cycle of making an attempt, to put it lightly.

On the one hand, if this is true, Aranwen is going to be extremely impressed that Kithran did what she could to see Davena fail in the first cycle. 

On the other hand, if this is true, Aranwen is going to feel absolutely terrible after getting Kithran out of this place. 

I mean, you can trust me whenever it is that I get around to being GM/DM/Storyteller... completely and absolutely

"What else remains in the place where skill, armour, and steel have faltered, but the grace of the Dancer of Fortune? All of us who know battle know that her favour can be the subtle hand that sways the outcome, even where all else should seem lost. Perhaps it seems strange for me to call on her only at the most dire of times, but I wouldn't ask more of Haren'selkya; to request to change her dance I imagine like asking me to change my song. An uncomfortable request, at best..."

With the change in what was being provided to eat, Aranwen knew that the time would be coming sooner than later; it seemed that she had surmised correctly, the situation as a whole.

"Alas, it is not of the quality of the one you surrendered, but I trust it will be functional."

Aranwen regarded the blade brought by the ghoul. A far simpler blade, but she accepted it in hand without hesitation.

"Let us find out."

She turned away from the priest, so as to not cause undue alarm, and closed her eyes. Unsheathing it, she lifted the blade before her, holding the guard just in front of her chin, and simply kept it steady for a moment, testing the weight in her hand. Opening her eyes, she lowered the tip, pointing it at the far wall of what was her cell, once again holding it steady. With deliberately slow movements she swung the blade, and with each arc she began to feel the new instead of the old, the center of weight on the blade, the reach, imprinting the texture of the handle upon her hand, observing the many imperfections that made this sword into the unique blade that it was forged to be.

The priest was right, the quality was indeed significantly less than her old. But as she bore the blade, she accepted its imperfections. If anything, it felt appropriate that the blade she wielded now was less than a pristine one; she herself had been less than an pristine leader, in her mind, and where before she might have taken minor issue with the blade, she instead began to feel synergy with this blade, as it blended with the worn and cracked blade of her heart. As she practised with the blade in silence, she listened to the sound it made in the air, and she could hear its song. Different than her older one, but she could hear it nonetheless.

Sheathing the blade, she turned back to the priest and the others. Aranwen would have liked more time to attune her being with this new blade, but not even she knew how long it may take to truly attune to it in as strong of a manner as her old one, and she knew time was scarce.

"It will serve our purposes," Aranwen confirmed, giving a wry smile, "And it is far better than entering battle unarmed."

In acts of preparation, Aranwen once more donned her armour, securing the sheath of the new blade at her hip. This was all she needed to do physically, but in her mind she retraced her more recent battles, steeling herself, her resolve, and feeling the flame that yet burned in her heart. Her body was far from the ideal condition, but she had kept up with her fitness as best she could, and right now, she'd take fighting over waiting. To wait longer would be to be in worse condition.

Still, she afforded herself one brief moment of luxury. Having spent so long confined to solitude, she needed to feel that the others were indeed real and not a product of a shattered mind. She helped Gib with his armour, she helped search for and return Cedric's holy symbol directly to his hand, and Ch'dau... she stood beside him, leaning into his warm fur. In the darkness, she felt a few tears fall from her cheeks in relief.

* * *

"When my Mistress is dead, I will honor you safe passage out of our domain. I give you this solemn vow in the name of D'hurgen, the Devourer. Of course, if you act against me, this seal is broken. Do you all understand?"

Aranwen nodded her head, "I understand," She returned, "At the moment, I am far more concerned with the present than what comes after. We can know she will not be undefended, even with avoiding guards on our approach - she doesn't allow herself to appear vulnerable at any time," that is what initially drew my curiosity, Aranwen thought bitterly.

"I might not know how the room looks before we arrive, but I do know that she will have attendants. Ch'dau, if Garn is present and not blocking the path, I leave him to you. Keep him occupied. I will rush those that wield magic - if I should be able to get to her and hinder any spellcasting by my persistence, then all the better for our chances of success in this endeavour, I should think. Gib, attend and aid Ch'dau if I go for her. Cedric, see to our injuries as they come as best you can, and be ready with your light; we know that they will use darkness to stay our advance, as they have done so before. Avoid being in a direct line with her sight - we know of the lightning she can wield."

WIth a deep breath, Aranwen once more steadied herself.

"For whatever it is worth," She whispered, "Kithran, I am sorry for my lateness. Heren'salkya, please... please grant us your favour in our time of need."

Aranwen had a strong feeling that they would need it.

She would take the mask as a souvenir... A kill trophy  

... On waiting before that last one I did for you to have an opportunity post as well, but I did want Aranwen to fully disclose the deal offered by Morgana for people to react to 

“Perhaps we can pry a few answers from her though before we make her insides into her outsides?”

"Adedre's just an employer," Aranwen mused, "Aside how she contacted Morgana in the first place, I don't know how much she'd truly know. We can at least try and ask, if there's an opportunity."

"I'm not worried about making such an opportunity happen," Aranwen added, looking to Ch'dau then to Kithran, "Not if it puts you both at risk. In any case, I have a suspicion the slavers likewise may have a connection to her, if only by other contracts."

"It's possible Morgana may approach me again of her own accord, some time later," she observed, gritting her teeth, "... She was surprised to see me alive, and offered a deal as she put it. 'Life for a life' - pledge my life to her and she'd see Saeriel restored. Ludicrous and impossible," though she clenched her hands and teeth, there did seem almost a desperate longing in her eyes.

"But that can be dealt with later."

"... it will be nice to go in with a plan for once. Alright, my savage mercenary Kazari and tactical warrior bladesinger, thoughts?”

Aranwen tilted her head a bit in surprise at Kithran's unfamiliarity with the language. But then it did make sense that, given circumstances, Kithran wouldn't know. 

"Haren'salkya," Aranwen repeated, before adding, "Fortune's dancer, I believe she is also referred to by Shinara."

"And in a strange twist of fortune, knowing that Morgana is after you two does give us one possible opportunity," Aranwen observed, "From what you've told me, she tried to capture, not kill, so Adedre clearly wants you brought back alive. If we could make a mask that looked like Morgana's, perhaps they'd simply open the gate for us if we walked up to it. Not unlike the first time I gained entry, posing as a city guard."

I just kind of wish I had Aranwen from the beginning. A bit selfish but I've definitely gotten attached to her. Thank you for inviting me, it's been a pleasure

It's interesting seeing into Ch'dau's thoughts here, something of a mirror of Aranwen's own. I imagine they both know that they both are willing to do whatever it takes to see the others and Kithran through this, even if the path results in either of theirselves not making it. All the while hoping for the best and hoping they all survive...

Thank you for letting me borrow Tara for that, Breebles

I told you I'd be gentle with her

436 E.R, Elanfalee tavern Sunflower Drops

It had been an eventful day. A broken livestock pen led to a few loose cattle, a particularly unfriendly scenario. Tara winced as she felt the aches in her muscles from the acrobatics she had employed to catch their attention and lead them away from onlookers, before leaning back a bit on her chair and giving a wistful sigh. The tavern was relatively empty this evening, all things considered. She might have enjoyed some evening company, but she at least had the company of the glass in front of her.

"You look pretty sad. No wait, pretty and sad?"

Hearing the sudden voice was like being splashed with cold water, and Tara could not help but hold her concealed dagger ready. Then she turned and saw the speaker.

A little girl with messy, sandy hair stood beside her, looking up at her with curiosity in her eyes. As their eyes met, the little girl gave a smile and a shy wave.

"Hiii."

Tara frowned slightly, unable to shake the chill she felt, "Where did you come from, little one?" she asked gave her a small wave back.

"Oh! That's what I wanted to ask," the little girl clambered up on to the chair beside Tara, "Never see you before. You are amazing. The cow was like grr and you were all nope not there now. Are you a dancer? Where are you from? Who are you? Where are the others like you? There were others. All red and white clothing. Not here? Did you have a fight?"

Tara blinked in bewilderment at the cascade of questions she was getting from the child, "S-slow down, little one," she finally said, "To answer you: no, lots of places, a Laughing Maiden of Shinara, at the temple, and no, we have not fought . . . to any great degree . . . today." Taking a breath she took a look around the tavern, "Where are your parents?"

"Mom's always busy," the girl replied, "Soo bored."

"It's evening. She lets you wander around on your own? At night?" Tara asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

"I go where I wanna!"

Tara lifted a finger to her temple, rubbing lightly before she shook her head, "Not this evening, little one. Come on, let's go find your mother."

Placing the coin beside the glass, the girl peered over the table, "Is that juice? Are you going to finish that?" She asked.

Tara shook her head, "It's not for little girls," she replied firmly, before taking the child's hand and leading them from the bar.

"Tell me of your mother," Tara asked as they walked outside, "What is she busy with?"

"Talking, talking, and more talking! She wants fabberric to sell."

"Ah," Tara's eyes softened a little bit, "Yes, those talks can certainly take a while. You're not from here then?"

"Nope!"

"Where are you from, little one?" Tara asked.

"Iiiiiiiii" The little girl gave a yawn, "Dunno. We're always on the road."

A travelling merchant and her daughter... Tara mused, "So am I, more or less," she gave a wry chuckle.

"Oooh can I go with you? You seem fun!"

Tara shook her head, "No, little one. You are too young, and I already have someone I'm looking after. Try to stay with your mother, okay? I'm sure she's-"

"There you are!"

Tara turned her head to see a woman rushing towards them, panting in her exertion when she arrived. Despite wearing what were clearly travel ready clothing, they had details of nobility to them, particularly in the jewelry she wore. She didn't look at Tara, her eyes only directed at the girl beside her.

"Good evening," Tara tilted her head, "Please try to keep a closer watch over this one," She smiled, "As hard as I know that may be."

"Mom I have a new mom!"

The woman sighed, "No dearie, stop bothering the kind lady. You look just about ready to fall over."

Pouting, the girl walked over to be picked up by the woman. Within moments, the girl had yawned and snuggled into her mother's arms, quickly falling asleep. Whispering softly, the woman mused aloud, "She's such a handful, but she's my handful," The woman's face had a gentle smile, her gaze wistful with distant eyes.

"Don't be too hard on her. Listening to adults talk and sitting in one place doesn't usually suit well with children," Tara spoke gently, "Take care now."

"You as well, and thank you for looking after her."

As Tara returned to the inn, she found the other Maidens surprised at her quick return.

"Huh, this is a surprise. Didn't expect to see you back so soon."

Tara shrugged, "I did go to the tavern, but a girl surprised me there. I had to see her safely returned to her mother."

"Surprised? You? That's almost unbelievable," Serah laughed.

Tara frowned, "Yes... it is almost unbelievable," she looked back out the door in the way the mother and child had left.

Goth-ish college student "Lumina", backyard gardener and also part time nurse/volunteer. A "witch" with her own coven (really just a hobby sharing group of various people) and kendo practitioner. Wore vampire fangs because she's used to them; being without feels weird.

Ah, the nostalgia of finding an old character concept

Are you talking about the game series I had made Lumina for?

"I couldn't say, my love," Aranwen replied, her voice soft as it travelled along the floor from where she sat next to the door of her cell, "Without the stars, moon, or sun, I've no sense of time here," She added, "I have slept nine, perhaps ten times, but that has no bearing on whether a day or a night has passed."

Aranwen looked around through the darkness, before her eyes settled on Ch'dau's prone form, "I am sorry for my part, once again, in bringing you back to this," she spoke softly, "But, it seems the situation is far more different than I had originally seen. We may not have learned the whole of that priests' intentions, but they appear to overlap with ours, if marginally. His price in return for our freedom, and in saving you, is to aid him in one endeavour which he said he will disclose later."

She leaned back against the wall, feeling the cold stone against her mostly bare back, "But, for his silence, there are things we can determine. From those things that do not add up," She mused, "He originally said that we were his guests in a manner. I originally assumed that to mean he was overseeing us until such time as we were brought in for whatever else the cult may have wanted. But we are unmoved, and when Gib sent the ghouls to fetch someone, they brought him, and him alone. We have also seen no other cultist. Not even Garn nor her, who I could certainly see gloating over victory.

Then, consider also what has been given us. Water, meager meals. At a glance, it seems typical unfavourable treatment for prisoners. However, we now know he has something intended, something planned, something that necessitates our wellbeing, to a degree. This doesn't add up, unless, perhaps, he and only he knows that we are here. If he has kept our lives a secret from all others, then for what purpose?

At best, I can only guess that he has quarrel with her, or perhaps desires leadership for himself. He cannot use his ghouls in his favour, given they also answer to other cultists as well. So he has need of forces he knows cannot be controlled, and has made certain to the best of his ability that we will comply with his request.

I do not like it. It has the feel of dealing with one problem only to leave another in its place. But we have little choice but to concede, if we are to survive."

At least for now, Aranwen mused, in the coming battle, I wonder what I may be able to buy us with my blood.

I'm a bit partial to longbow, having used one in reality

The 'elven curved blade' is a weapon that has been on my mind lately, and I also remember it being one of the first blades I found intriguing, courtesy of seeing Ginafae's character with one in the first game I joined here

In the end, my absolute favourite fantasy weapon though - claws

As soon as she heard the name Morgana, Aranwen's eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened, "Damn that witch," She swore, her hand shaking in anger as she took a deep breath, "Thirty years... thirty years, no sign of her, no way to find her, no way to track her down, and now, all of a sudden, she shows up here," she nearly growled in frustration.

Aranwen looked around quickly, expecting a puppet to show up just to spite her. She looked back to Kithran but didn't lower her guard, "I know very little of her," she sighed, "One terrible memory, her name and the look of that mask most don't know. Or those that do stay silent. I only know that she's a formidable mercenary. After her puppet confirmed I wasn't you, she said I wasn't part of her contract and left me in the alley she ambushed me in. I can only guess that Adedre hired her."

She shuddered in recollection, "If we're dealing with her, of all things... we got lucky... but we can't rely on Heren'salkya's favour against the likes of her."

Aranwen began to pace again, her mind racing as she tried to think of the next steps that they should do, "If Adedre did hire Morgana, then we need to take out Adedre as soon as we can. If we kill her, we get rid of Morgana's source of payment. If she gets nothing out of her efforts, she leaves. I've seen it before."

"Oh I'd love to take my sword to the smug face behind that mask if I could..." She muttered, her eyes burning with a simmering fury.