OOC
Minecraft Username:
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Searching for a Roleplaying server that uses Minecraft.
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: No.
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond (in character)?
“I am not nervous,” I tell her. “Only attentive. The road maintains its own musical pattern, which I have found to be strangely comforting; although it differs greatly from the ocean's rhythm, which I most certainly prefer.”
The wagon travels slowly as its wooden structure emits loud sounds that become musical when I concentrate on them.
“Perhaps it is the sensation of standing on solid earth that has given me a sense of unease. The Bay of Lluar contains water that remains stationary without any movement. The lake creates a perfect mirror of the sky, making it difficult to determine where the ground ends and its reflection begins. Silence lives there with her lover, Sleep. That is where I belong.”
The elderly woman begins to nod, then smiles once more. “You still haven’t told me why you are here, my dear.”
I reply simply, “Yes... I suppose I haven’t.”
My mind's eye begins to fill with visions of my home. A place I have lived my entire life in the peaceful surroundings of the Eagle Isles.
“Life requires us to face its challenges without seeking rescue, as my sisters and I discovered at a young age. The process requires someone to lead its execution at specific points. Death exists as an open reality in the Mist Isles because people do not attempt to conceal it through walls or door closures.”
“I am an apothecary by trade, although it is not uncommon for your kind to think of me as a witch. Herbs are my constant companion.”, I say as I gently pat the dark leather pouch attached to my belt.
The old woman’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the title of witch. I ignore her and continue.
“I do my best to be gentle, but being direct, is our way. With the right application, my practice relieves all matters of pain. With but a small piece of the right flower beneath the tongue, I can control breathing patterns, including to stop them completely. I can convince the body to release its hold upon the spirit without feeling any fear. In the Bay, those who come to me do so willingly. They want to die with respect, so I give them the serenity they seek.”
“Now, the waters of my home have become unsettled, no, something far worse. The pools remain still, but they have lost their reflection. Clearly, there is something wrong. Silence has left her abode and remains lost to us. The rituals that once brought peace now fail to achieve their intended purpose. Sleep, may he never leave my side, listens for any sign that she has returned, and even now, he has grown restless, yearning to have the comfort of his heart returned to her place.”
My eyes begin to lose focus as I speak the words I have heard in my dreams over the last three months, “Death has started to produce echoes that will continue to cloud and distort what was once clear and perfect. Silence has been lost.”
I shake my head and laugh softly to myself, feeling that my voice has once again become my own. My right hand gripping the leather pouch as I ignore the all too familiar stare from the old woman.
“Stories from beyond the Mists speak of the Southern Reach; of lands once held by the Aedall, now empty of them, their cities hollowed and repurposed, their passing unanswered. It has been said that the location brought immediate death, which occurred without any proper funeral rites, and then it became silent through the wrong means. Among the Mistan, we believe that when a journey is interrupted, it leaves behind an endless ripple in its wake. The Reach presents itself as a place of ceaseless motion, and these broken wakes can be felt in all directions, preventing its inhabitants from finding their way to what lies beyond.”
“I do not come as a conqueror, nor as a savior. That is not my place. I am Awakened. A DreamSeer. I have come because there are those who need to be heard. Among my people, we say that to know only one telling is to murder all others. The Southern Reach has already lost countless stories that should have been preserved. If the dead there have no waters to carry them onward, then perhaps I can be their hands, or their songs. Perhaps it is Silence that has gone to give them what they cannot find for themselves. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
The old woman gives me a friendly smile, though now I get the impression she regrets ever having opened this dialogue. The wagon keeps moving toward new territories, which for the time being remain uneventful. I silently confirm to myself that the outcome with this woman will likely be the norm in the days to come. The living have never truly invited me in to share the warmth of their hearths; not that I mind. A gentle breeze lulls me back into thoughts of home. And just like that it is gone. I open the small vial of saltwater that I keep around my neck. The swift tang of salt overwhelms my senses like a long lost lover, finally returning to take me in their embrace. I shake my head, returning the stopper swiftly to prolong my talisman of the Bay for as long as possible. We shall have to take this one day at a time. I realize now that I have stopped walking entirely and have turned to look back from whence I came. Pursing my lips together I return to my adventure. I look to my side and smile, "And what out there, down the rolling hills and grass carpeted fields, waits for us?" Sleep simply continues walking beside me, as is his way. I nod a few times, "I suppose you're right, we shall find out together."
—
Character Name: Monique Lluaryn
Character Race: Arsa Sidhe
Character Age: Appears to be around 27
Brief Physical Description:
Tall and slender even for an Arsa Sidhe, with short, chopped chalk-colored hair often kept loose and free. The woman maintains a soft yet intimidating expression when she stands still; her dreamrose eyes conveying an unsettling understanding of whatever she sets her gaze upon. Her simple, dark-colored robes include several travel-friendly pieces made from natural materials, while she carries small protective items and dried plant fragments.
Image of Skin and Figura Model:
Adjustments made to a model first seen on Kazemi_Ayaha.
