[Game Thread] Prologue: the Gathering

[Arion Wind]

*tchoo!* The foreign woman sneezes as she drifts into town. The northern air had been a shock for Elleria, and compounded with the season, her body was having some trouble adjusting. I can nap in a thunderstorm and have magic that make a desert comfortable. Yet I can't beat these sniffles. Rather than frustrate her, the thought is almost comforting. She might some day twist the motions of the clouds to her will, but she can't change the fundamental quality of the air the gods placed here. All the more reason to serve them when they call.

Lost in her musings, she very nearly trips over the group of people on the road to the chapel. Only the glint of shining mithrial alerted her in time to avoid plowing headfirst into one of them. "*sniff* Oh! I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention . . ." Embarrassed, Elleria trails off, searching for a better apology.

[Mal Radagast]

Alona barks a laugh at Athkar's formality but plays along, sweeping a grand (if somewhat ungraceful) bow. She comes up smiling broadly at their game, then punctuates her own introduction by roughly clapping him on the arm. "Alona Cailean - I have journeyed from the This is actually a local joke - the town isn't large enough to warrant anything in the way of an organized militia, and even if it were the would all be down at the pub. The "arms" on the sign are two arms wrestling.Eidsdale Arms down thot whey."

Poking a thumb over her shoulder, Alona almost hits Elleria in the face, apparently without noticing. When the southern woman speaks, Alona whirls around in quite-possibly-feigned surprise. "Hah! Hey, another other - and yew all are jus tin time for the feastday!" Giving the newcomer a hearty slap on the back, Alona takes another deep autumn breath. "You smell that? Ah, lyke lyfe's ewn blood! I ken tell already, we are going to get along lyke ay house on fyre - the best First Brewing since the tyme we did have ay house on fyre!"

[Ehlana]

"It is nothing of greatness." Kismet excuses the newcomer with the cold, eyes still glimmering with amusement. "I am so small, here among this land of giants, that everyone misses seeing me. Sometimes, they actually step on me, and at least you have not done that."

Since events seem to be trending more towards conversation than battle, she reaches up and removes her helm, tucking it under one arm. Rich black hair that is probably very long when let down is pinned up on her head, flattened by the helm, with soft, untidy little wisps curling about her face. Her skin is the color of saffron and her features are more or less what the bards have in mind when they tell tales or sing songs featuring exotic beauties from the east. She is smiling, only slightly, but with the air of one who has just seen the point of a quiet joke.

"I must also point out that it is Athkar who is representative of his order. None of them are anything like me at all." She gestures at herself and then at the tall Svallander with a wink and indeed, it would be hard to imagine two people more different from each other. "I am a daogu of Tu Di Gong. A...servant of the god here known as Torag."

[Avelestar]

Not long after meeting up, you find a man standing just off the main road bent over a pair of collapsed stone columns. He seems entirely engrossed in whatever it is he's doing with that paper and charcoal, and a stack of books sits on a rock nearby. The sound of whistling floats on the wind, a steady but cheery tune, and as you approach the man stands up, stretching his back and turning to face you.

Isaiah squints in the sun, pulling down the brim of his hat a little more. "Damnit, is it really that late already?" Quickly gathering up his stuff and placing it into a pack on his horse, Isaiah waves at the group at yells out. "Hey, which way is the church? I kinda got distracted here...and then my map blew away."

[The Fool]

Athkar doesn't really show any surprise when Elleria suddenly shows up, simply turning and bowing to her. "Good afternoon," he says to the foreign stranger, proceeding to let Kismet do the talking as she introduces herself fully, himself busying himself with adjusting the harness of Patience. As the others talk, he hears the whistling of the man by the stone columns and, seeing him wave, waves back.
"We are in fact heading for the church," he answers politely, his voice soft and even as always. "Would you care to join us?"

[Avelestar]

"I would, thankyou." replies Isaiah with a smile. Not wanting to place himself higher or outpace the group Isaiah walks next to his horse, gently leading the beast with her reins. "I'm going to guess from your gear and strides that you're headed to the church for the same reason as I." begins the dusty looking man. "It's very rare to see more than farmers and the odd pilgrim along these roads, unless I'm bringing my group though of course."

Isaiah's attention is suddenly snatched away from the conversation as his head snaps towards a pair of stones off in the distance. No, no, we did those two summers ago remember? That brute of a half orc dropped the charcoal boxes and you were forced to hand draw everything. "But where are my manners? Too many days on the road alone erode the most basic of social customs. I am Isaiah Crell, Archaeologist."

[The Fool]

Athkar bows again, something he seems to do very often. He does it very particularly, too, with his hands clasped before his chest and his head and torso inclined at precisely chosen angles depending upon the situation. He has opted for a neutral, middling-depth bow this time, as it customary for new introductions. Patience snorts as she plods along behind him, still industriously chewing the apple.
"I am The Speaker of Athkar," he answers placidly. "I represent the Followers of Al-Tariqa. This is Kismet, my friend and a Priestess of Torag, and these two are fellow travelers we met on the road, bound for the same destination as you and we."

[Ehlana]

Kismet makes a slight, comical grimace at the word "priestess". She'd chosen to avoid it earlier because the term, as it is was explained to her, is not exactly correct, though it is as close as this language can come. "You can just call him Athkar." She adds with her usual calm friendliness. "Because the whole thing's rather a mouthful and he'll answer to it. In fact, he'll answer to almost anything, though I've yet had no success with calling him "Flower" and getting a reply." She grins up at the tall monk. "Though I think it possible that with time, I could train him to answer even to that. He already answers to "Dinner". At least he comes when someone calls it."

[Arion Wind]

Elleria smiles at the exchanges before remembering to introduce herself, "Oh, and I am Elleria, a mage in service to Iomedae." She nods politely, "It seems we're all heading the same way." She turns her head in preparation for a sneeze that doesn't come, and seems put off before continuing on down the road.

[The Fool]

Kismet sees Athkar look down and let out a very short, inaudible breath, the corners of his mouth turning nearly imperceptibly upwards. This is as close to actually laughing as he ever really gets. "And by the time I get there, you have almost already arrived ahead of me, Kismet."

Seeing Elleria looking like she's about to sneeze, he then draws a soft, thick handkerchief out of thin air and hands it to her. "This will vanish after six minutes; just toss it by the road when you're done with it," he notes without inflection, "It's a pleasure to walk with you, Elleria."

[Ehlana]

"Well, where else would you expect me to be if I am calling you in to dinner?" Kismet demands, looking up at her tall friend, eyes full of amusement. "Don't blame me if I am the only one who tells you these things. You're the one that decided to join an order where practically everyone takes a vow of silence. In fact, if it weren't for me, you'd probably never eat at all." She pauses briefly, as if in thought. "You know, the more I think about it, the more I think that must have been the case before I arrived. -That's- why you are so skinny." Extending a hand, she pokes Athkar's stomach lightly, in a thoroughly playful and highly undignified manner. "I tell you, you hug this man, you get paper cuts!" She appeals to the others. "What is it here that you eat that is very fattening but has no meat in it? You must tell me. If I were at home, I would stuff him with fried tofu and red bean buns. Here though, you ask a man if he will give you some tofu and you end up involved in a very undignified incident because he has a -very- confused idea about what tofu is."

[Avelestar]

Isaiah laughs at the exchange, liking that what will likely be his partners in the near future are so jovial and light-hearted. "Kismet my dear, a man can survive solely on a strip of jerky and a mouthful of water a day. Infact doing so is beneficial for one trying to get a large amount of work done." The archaeologist is quite skinny like Athkar, but his skin has a more toughened look to it.

Rummaging in his holey backpack for a few seconds, Isaiah pulls forth a thin strip of jerky and tears off a piece. Pushing it to the back of his teeth to soften up he asks "So how far is this church? I meant to arrive many hours ago and peruse their library but got distracted on the way." Grinning he adds, "I'm quite happy with the rubbings I have taken, but very excited to visit a monastery. Just think of the secrets hidden within!"

[Fragmaster01]

Upon arriving at the chapel, the horrible girl with the scowl is leaning against it, waiting for someone. Probably you people. You sincerely hope she's not your boss.

OOC Feel free to shovel the conversations along without me. Posting is painful at the moment.

[Ehlana]

"That is a view -very- often argued by men." Kismet retorts cheerfully. "Personally, my belief is that a filling, well-balanced and pleasant to taste meal is much more beneficial in allowing one to get large amounts of work done and done well." Having spent all but her earliest years in a temple and most of her months in Svalland in a monastery, she isn't sure what Isaac expects to find that is so interesting. However, there is no reason to spoil his enjoyment. Instead, she turns and grins at Alona. "It seems we will travel to the monastery surrounded by all these skinny men. Anything wishing a good meal will surely attack us first. We must be most careful."

[The Fool]

"Kismet, they would probably attack you last of all," Athkar notes, and it's hard to tell from his deadpan tone if he's making a serious observation or teasing. "You're as thin as I am, and I do not possess a metal shell to chew through.