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Outlands > Elwha River

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message 1: by [deleted user] (new)

A river to bathe in, canoe across...

message 2: by Blood Bone and Muscle (last edited Jun 04, 2013 09:32PM) (new)

Blood Bone and Muscle | 23 comments Out near the sweet mulberry tree, in harmony with the higher rocks, in a small wool and wood tent habituated musical hands to an odd shaped musical instrument.

To the sound of rain, it twanged a sharp five sharp drillings of quick fingers and strong nails.

Suddenly, the rain did not seem so isolated and dreary, rather a breathing space to collect anxious minds and bring new beginnings. The sense of vanishing opportunities was changed to a token of reflection during a time of blurred eyes. When nothing visible was clear, your own subconscious could be seen.

"Oh woe is the sky.
The raindrops plunge to rest,
Great possibilities and good fourtune,
It is lost, it is lost," the crazy old man by the river lamented, smiling despite himself.

He sat in bright pyjamas. Orange robes of dyed burlap performing the first of the first Gene Kelly. His bones to easily broken to dance in the mud, he preferred his tidy little shelter near the sirens and mermaids.

Upon his tent scrawled the words 'OLD MAN FU OFFERS WISDOM FOR SMILING COMPANY'.

message 3: by Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (last edited Jun 08, 2013 03:39PM) (new)

Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (miriamdaisyrose) | 65 comments Ralin Merriweather was riding a mule through the forest. She did not use a saddle, but rather a bright woven blanket. Saddle bags rode on the beast also, filled with goods to trade- and all of her earthly possessions. One french braid wound round her hairline, while the rest of the thick black tangle of locks fell about her. She didn't wear any shoes, but both feet were bound with strips of cloth, both as bandages and for shoe-like protection. Her clothes- they were plain and simple. An old peasant's shirt, tucked into a plain and old circle skirt, with a few warn-out layers for warmth underneath. A brightly colored woven sash around her waist, though it was in keeping with the rest of the clothing and thus was somewhat plain, was the only ornament to the outfit. A green wool cloak only tried to shield her from the rain, but she was, inevitably, drenched.

The sky was dark and cloudy, making the forest a smaze of deep greens and browns. The clouds were tumultuous and moody, billowing and folding upon themselves, painted with great contrast in color. As she road, she sometimes looked up to gaze at them in wonder.

Soon the soft sound of mule hooves in the sandy dirt of the forest floor, mixed with the sounds of drops of rain and the groan of the trees in the forest as they bent with the wind of the coming storm, were met with a new sound, the sound of Old Man Fu and his instrument. It seemed fitting with the rain and the river and the forest, though Ralin hadn't been expecting it, and made the mood of the air serene. She kept riding, and eventually the man and his tent came into view. She smiled naturally at the sight, though she wasn't literate and therefor could not read the Old Man's sign.

message 4: by Blood Bone and Muscle (last edited Jun 05, 2013 05:49PM) (new)

Blood Bone and Muscle | 23 comments His face was hidden from the tent's coverage but as for his hands, oh, creepy and leathery brown tweaked the odd wooden box with long nails--no, finger picks--seemingly much too entertained with his own sound reverberating. Sometimes it would fall into the wrong key but he quickly picked up again. The key didn't matter as much as the quick snapping it made.

Stones glistened in the rain, glossed like pebbles cleansed, thunder rolled across the mountains far off in the mist.

To the song, there was not catchy, repetitive chorus like folk songs had. This was no pub time instrument. Rather, it was as if someone had taken a piano bench and mysteriously laid on it a sleeping harp. But its melody was too gritty to be the dulcet angel's harpsichord. Each note pierced explosively, like the bell tower effect at noon, a simple tare at a jester's strings.

Only when her mule's hooves scrapped over rocky texture did the elder behind the sheepskin stop for a second to listen. The shuffling of someone on their knees resounded and he settled back to linger on a pleasant drilling which made his music so distinct and so akin to the rain.

"I have nothing to steal!" The accented old man boomed over his instrument and the rain. A clear smile in his voice, "There is nothing but good music here."

message 5: by Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (last edited Jun 07, 2013 01:30PM) (new)

Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (miriamdaisyrose) | 65 comments She had never heard anything quite like it before, yet it was reminiscent, more than anything she had heard in years, of some of the most unique music of Grindor that she had heard and played so often many, many years ago. She looked up at the mountains, to the source of the thunder, water droplets falling on her eyes and making her blink. Perhaps she should have been more alarmed by the old man's hands, or his piercing music, or the hidden state of his face, but she sensed that he was safe. It was not so much a naive whim, as it was the product of acute perception.

She heard the smile in the Old Man's voice, and it translated into a smile on her own as she turned away from the mountains and back to him.

"But that is better than all the riches in the world." Her own voice still bore a slight accent itself, though very different from his own and very nearly undetectable altogether. Her reply to his words was not sarcastic in the slightest, but truly simple and sincere.

She took his warm tone and somewhat welcoming words to be a sort of invitation that it was alright for her to stop here rather than continue on into the stormy weather, and she climbed down from the back of the mule with the slight difficulty and stiffness that comes with bearing a wound of some sort and not letting on that it is there.

Blood Bone and Muscle | 23 comments "Ah, you have come a long way with beautiful taste in words," he said kindly, "But what you really need is a shelter which I am delighted to share on such a windy evening. You must be wet from head to toe. Let me offer you a cloak for your benefit," every sentence was short and precise, each word tasted in an odd ringing tone to listen to it ring, he always put the emphasis on the oddest syllable and he loved that quirk to death.

The old man peaked an eye under the sheepskin veil, a white wool beard elongated to his mid pot belly falling to the floor when he bent over to see.

His eyes crinkled in pleasure, it was affirmation enough of welcome to his very humble abode among the black river pebbles. Pressing his hand on the floor, he lifted himself back into sitting like a monk, joints shuddering like brass metal doors.

There was no need for him to sorrow, while Ralin had taken a trip (this being an extremely rare occurrence for governance relying on serfdom, it took a gypsy mind to be profitable and nomadic), Old Man Fu stayed sedentary in his little tent, never worrying when there was nothing to take. Not even his life.

Within the little tent a stone brasier bowled coals in its black centre, flaring like magic. Blankets and herbs were spangled around like stars on a banner and a pile of hay off to the side was the old man's cradle. The only thing that could be worth a piece was his piano like string instrument--but even that looked like an impossible keyboard who's secrets were much too complicated to bother furnishing it a worth. You couldn't sell a book to a blind man or a child's crutch to an adult in need. This clavier would be no different for bandits.

The doorstep was a dozy, slick flat rocks near an ever spraying river.

message 7: by Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (last edited Jun 29, 2013 06:36PM) (new)

Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (miriamdaisyrose) | 65 comments Ralin looked down into his welcoming eyes as he peaked out from under the tent, appreciation in her own. She watched him until his long white beard rose up from the ground yet again, the rain drops pattering against the pebbles on the ground all the while, each one splattering into a tiny explosion of water when it made contact. Already, she liked this curiously odd Old Man. And she had a vague sense of admiration for a certain spunkiness in his character.

"I thank you very much." Her voice was markedly not overwhelmingly articulate, but somewhat lagging from weariness and cold. All the same, it was a voice truly grateful.

Taking in a long breath, she turned back to the mule. Because everything was soaked so thoroughly anyway, she needn't have bothered with attempting to keep it dry. With a painful wince, and working with numbed fingers, she relieved the beast of all his burdens, and laid them at the base of the near-by mulberry tree. The task tired her out far more than it normally would have, so stealing a quick moment of rest for herself, she glanced up at the powerful sky; the wind was picking up and the storm-clouds were obligingly racing to keep in pace. Slowly, she made her way back to her calm and loyal travel companion as he let out a "whinhee-haw," and amid the rain she stroked his muzzle, her hand lingering in the minute comfort of his warm breath before sending him away. He would find shelter during the storm, and then obediently come back to meet her afterward, when he was ready.

She relieved the cloak of it's unhappy duty, letting it fall in a waterlogged heap next to the saddlebags. It was both impolite and imprudent to bring a soggy cloak into a host's home. Her whole body by now was shivering violently so that she had to bite her tongue to keep her teeth from joining in and making chattering sounds. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face, and she gathered it back and held it in her hand as she relieved herself of some other now-unnecessary layers that no longer provided warmth and would only make her and her remaining essential clothing remain wet longer. Then, still holding all the wavy black strands, she made her way to the Old Man's door. Still a bit insecure on her legs after riding so long, she was careful not to loose her footing on the slippery ground. She did her best to wring out her clothes before entering, but it was a hopeless cause. The rain pelted down mercilessly as did the spindrift of the river, and undid any progress she might have made. She stopped for a moment, standing there, wiling every muscle in her body to cease it's shaking; then having succeeded in her goal, she entered the hut.

The atmosphere changed so suddenly that it was striking. The beating rain and splashing ground, whistling wind and whispering trees, booming thunder and foreboding clouds were all things of the world outside- and inside, all that was muted, and the pleasant undertone of a crackling little fire flittered the air with amenity, and the dried herbs hanging about gave off a pleasant aroma to this distinctly oriental and almost mystical atmosphere. And Old Man Fu sat there, unperturbed and peaceful as could be. The girl found herself hushed by the warmth of his home.

She looked down at the puddle of water at her feet, her clothes clinging to her body and the weight of the water pulling them towards the ground, making them look long-faced and embarrassed to be so wet. She looked up at him, almost ashamed to bring all of this rain-water -a fabrication of the chaotic outside- into this Old Man's pleasant home.

Blood Bone and Muscle | 23 comments ((The first two paragraphs were originally written like this. They sounded much better in french due to the vocabulary: (view spoiler)))

Mud near the river was cracked with dryness, soon she would crack with mold. Bubbles stretched for a moment before emitting a kind of demonic scent that could only happen because of the sewer of a hundred villagers. Strewn with mud and unworthy unknown black pieces, the bed expanded to take the overflowing casting.

Down here, thieves and characters stood far from the river. Probably due to the myths (or in this case, the realities) of the Slavic Rusalki--or Sirens as they were called here.

The stories of men harking up their own lungs in attempt to breath underwater matted into the words of the daily crier and thus, the Old Man had very few unwanted visitors.

Inside, the sound of heavy rains dialed out into the crackling of a very tame fire pit. His bronze, silken face took in her hooded eyes which pierced like needles into his flesh, they sent little electrodes to his already cramped fingers and he frayed for a second. An overwhelming chill.

Automatically, everything was clearer. Old Man Fu had not seen a person with such appearance anywhere near here. She had the facial angles of a Scythian and bended ears unlike those of the nymphs breaking the day. Such an odd looking girl surely hadn't strolled either kingdom's streets from four centuries of integrating families, she had none of the incestuous seeming features which beheld every member of the kingdoms. The mysterious stranger's pallid pellicle hadn't been trodden by the sun.

Perhaps that is where the shock of her appearance dug its roots, it was reasonable to question the pretext of where a woman, so pale and willowy in visible frame, had acquired no sun during the last forty days of cloudless drought.

Sure enough, a wool cloak had been strewn across the foot of the fire, its filaments a dull grey mass, "I would have given you the dynamic colour yellow as it promises sunnier days," The old man admitted sheepishly, suppressing a smile, "It is stabilizing. Something you surely need, yes? But I have not yet mastered the art of dieing good cloths so you must remain humble for to-day."

message 9: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe ((HEY BBAM~!))

message 10: by Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (last edited Jun 29, 2013 08:10PM) (new)

Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (miriamdaisyrose) | 65 comments She looked at the old man for only a second, standing there dripping on his floor, trying to hide any indication that she felt as cold as the ocean's deepest depth, or that she was as tired as the groaning old tree trunk under the stress of a high wind, ready to break, or that she was, indeed, in some amount of pain. As penetrating as her gaze was, it wasn't as if she were forcibly penetrating- it was just naturally so. Simply; innocently.

Her eyes lingered on the man only for a moment, for she bent down and wrung out every inch of cloth on her body before she did anything else.

And by the way he spoke, she knew the cloak laying near-by was meant for her, and she brought herself over to it with the particular purposeful walk of someone who was once used to performing domestic chores. She picked it up just as his words fell on the the happy thoughts that yellow brings, and she looked up at the top of the shack at the mention of hot sun and pleasant weather, though her eyes wandered not to the shabby tatters of the roof but to the fantasy of comfort, in pleasant weather, and rest. A faint, and sort of longing and distant smile smoothed across her lips, almost undetectable in nature.

The cloak easily found it's way onto her shoulders, and offered insulation to her back as she left her front exposed to the fire, standing close to it and letting it begin to dry her clothes while warming her body.

It was odd, the way this Old Man spoke. But it struck a note which she seemed to understand. She allowed a silence to linger after his words were done and before offering her own, in which the rainfall once again came into focus, and the crackle of the fire was more keenly sensed. And once allowing this silence to feel comfortable, she broke into it with her voice, admitting and reassuring in tone, but having meaning deeper beyond the colors expressed. "Gray suits me better."

message 11: by Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (last edited Jun 29, 2013 08:38PM) (new)

Belladonna (~Miriam Daisy Rose~) (miriamdaisyrose) | 65 comments ((I'm learning French in school, so I could pick out some of the words. :) Are you bilingual?))

message 12: by Erin (new)

Erin Willow lay upon a low hanging bough of a tree that stood on the river bank. Her long hang hung down toward the water and she had her eyes closed.

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
Micky was walking along the creek bored

message 14: by Erin (new)

Erin Willow heard the snap of a twig and Micky walked along. She opened her eyes and looked down at Micky as she walked nearby. Without moving and hidden by leaves she said "hello stranger!"

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"hi" micky says not really caring

message 16: by [deleted user] (new)

((it does sound better in french. I can understand it coz I'm part French ;) sorry for bursting in. :) ))

message 17: by Erin (new)

Erin ((Haha it's cool Sarah))
Willow fell down, her legs still hanging, her upside down, her hair almost trailing the water. "Whatcha doing here?" She said with a twinkling smile

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
she shrugs "killing time"

message 19: by Erin (new)

Erin Willow shimmied along the branch until she was above ground and then she dropped down. When she stood up straight again she held out her hand "I'm Willow"

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"Micky" she says giving her a smile realizing she had been rude before and taking her hand shaking it

message 21: by Erin (new)

Erin "Pleasure to meet you Micky" willow said returning the smile "so, what do you make of all this fighting?"

message 22: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe followed Elizabeth to the river.

message 23: by [deleted user] (new)

They sat dow at the river bank. Elizabeth gave him a small smile. she dipped her fingers in the water and said "there are no direns here you know."

message 24: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe then said, "Well, that's good then."

message 25: by [deleted user] (new)

She nodded and looked down at the rapidly flowing water. the occasional leaf or twig sailed by as she watched the river water froth around rocks that jutted out.

message 26: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe then sat near her and laid down on his back and said, "This is very peaceful." He then closed he's eyes.

((Elizabeth should try to flirt with him XD))

message 27: by [deleted user] (new)

((ok but dont blame me if she sucks at it because ive never flirted before :)))

"It is, isnt it?" She lowered her voice to a soft whisper. "The first time i saw a sprite was here." She lay down next to him and looked up at the slowly appearing stars.

message 28: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe ((It's okay... I haven't either XD))

Valshe nodded and said, "That's nice."

message 29: by [deleted user] (new)

She nodded. A whiteish purplish thick band of staars streaked acrossthe midnight sky like a necklace of diamonds. "What is that?" she whispered toValshe and pointed it out.

message 30: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe then opened his eyes and looked at where she was pointing, "Stars."

message 31: by [deleted user] (new)

"No i know that but look at the formation... It looks like a galaxy or something... anyways its beautiful," she breathed and then turned her head to look away from Valshe suddenly feeling embarrassed.

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"do what?" she asks her confused on what she had meant by the question

message 33: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe then noticed she was embarrassed and teased smiling, "What's wrong? Did I make you nervous?"

message 34: by Erin (new)

Erin "You know, guild star, white knights, all that crap" Willow explained, standing closer to Micky

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"i'm glade it's happening" she says smiling about the wars being solved

message 36: by Erin (new)

Erin "God I know right. My favourite bit about wars are the spoils afterwards" she said with a cheeky glint in her eye

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"okay..." she says taking a step away from her starting to get a little weird-ed out

message 38: by [deleted user] (new)

Elizabeth sighed and murmured, "I feel so stupid."

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"umm..." she says not sure what to say and takes another step back

message 40: by Erin (new)

Erin Willow bushed and took a step away "god I'm sorry I have personal space issues" she laughed "sorry"

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
she laughed and says "no biggie, so what are you?" she asks her simply knowing she wasn't human

message 42: by Erin (new)

Erin "I'm a siren" she said pushing her hair back "and you?"

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"a fairy" she says smiling "i've never meet a siren before" she says smiling even more to meet someone and something new

message 44: by Erin (new)

Erin Willow pondered that "I met a fairy boy once.. Well... When I say met..." She blushed and then laughed "I can't believe you've never met a siren before! We seem to draw people in"

message 45: by Glitchieyt (new)

Glitchieyt TTV | 71 comments Daluk appeared before them. "Hee hee! An I'm a sprite! What a coincidence meeting a fairy with a siren!

message 46: by [deleted user] (new)

Elizabeth sat up as she heard a familiar voice. of coure. thad odd demonic thing that had annoyed her on the battlefield. she followed his voice and peered through the foliage. "You!?" she hissed at him.

message 47: by Caramel Cat (new)

Caramel Cat Universe Valshe then took her hand, "Elizabeth calm down just relax you don't always have to look for someone to fight."

message 48: by [deleted user] (new)

"I wasnt going to fight him. i was going to warn him." She said cheeks flushing.

ᏖᎥᏁᏦᏋᏒ ᏰᏋᏝᏝ | 1571 comments Mod
"what happened with you and the fairy boy?" she asked her smiling

message 50: by Erin (new)

Erin She blushed again and laughed "oh it was nothing, you had some information, I erm, used some alternative methods to get it"

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