OOC
Minecraft Username: Xeno_Wyvvern
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Hello! I'm Xeno, and I'm just someone who likes to write stories with the help of others.
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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)? (150 words minimum - please make sure to include at least three references to our lore in your response, with two coming from different pages in the Compendium. Two of the three selected should also be in-depth, avoid simply name-dropping lore terms. Tie the terms into your character's backstory. Why are they important to them?)
"Well, I spent the last of my coin for this ride, so you could say I'm in need of a place to stay."
Is what she would have said; if she had the emotion to open up about such things. Cold winter air gave a certain charm around the mouths of those who had much more energy than her—hushed mist, with all manner of conversation. The old woman's breathy question fell on stunned, red ears as a much younger receiver turned to slowly register that someone had noticed her presence. 'Right,' her emerald gaze seemed to say, widening ever so slightly. 'I exist.'
Instead, the pale woman said-
"...To...disappear."
How poetically trivial.
"I-I mean, you only travel with the caravan so many times before- well- not that the falstoners are boring!" she added quickly, struggling for words. The older woman chuckled life into the frigid air. How interesting it felt to exist.
"Sure, it's a nomadic lifestyle, but the people made it as homely as any other village. I got to see a lot of the world from a young age." She pressed on, turning to scan the endless horizon. The wagon jostled lightly for a moment, and it felt only natural. Her voice was hushed with wonder and frost, invisible amongst the other conversations.
"At the time, I thought trusting paper lanterns to carry our wishes into the sky was...odd. How could such a small thing keep all of my secrets? What can assure me that it won't just steal them away to a place I'll never find? I'd rather keep those wishes to myself now, after watching them be for naught...but...perhaps I asked for too much." The sun was beautiful this time of year. It cast the sky in oranges and reds that felt strikingly familiar. Phoenix had returned to take its turn up above, it seemed. And for a moment, the murmuring hushed. Everyone on that wagon stopped to witness the universal wonder of the bird's warm brush strokes. The young woman continued, as if narrating the cold, softly sonder scene for them all.
"My parents taught me that the land is something you can always trust, once you get to know it. To that end, I followed their teachings to study the plants we'd find along our travels. And oh how lovely the world was!" she exclaimed suddenly, reaching a hand toward the coming dawn as if its warmth could soothe the redness of her fingertips. Someone across the wagon began humming an agreeable tune. "The flower wardens too, ha! I miss seeing them carry flowers near the wagons sometimes. I'd love to meet one of them again...perhaps that's what I could do! Never had time for a garden, moving around..."
To meet anything familiar again...
"All manner of wildlife that live to serve the creatures that co-exist with them! Our very nature as differing nations, as people...some see division, but I see a strength that could work alongside this world. And the colors of the land? Beautiful!"
Some of the travelers cheered, regaining the energy to converse once more. A few even broke out into song.
"I love it all," she whispered.
But its warmth was impossibly far. She drew her hand inward, conserving what little heat her fingers had left around herself.
"...One day, the land took my Mum. Something less natural than sickness. I couldn't...find something to heal her." she paused. For a moment, the flaming bird of rebirth threatened to leave a bright spot in her vision. She didn't dare shut her eyes.
She had begged for a cure. Her cries fell on deaf ears.
To be honest, herbalism was all she had left. She had nothing, deep down, and this travel to the Reach was the remaining embers of her curiosity from a caravan that was no more. A truth like that wouldn't make the road any warmer though.
There was that silence from before. How human it felt, to feel light one moment and heavy the next. Something nudged at her other shoulder - a larger-looking man with a cheery face, and a charming beard to match. He held out a pair of wooly gloves that looked much too small for him, and she accepted them graciously with a tired smile full of life.
"So...to answer your question..." she turned to the other woman, thoughtfully feeling the insulating cloth between her fingers. What relief.
"I want to find new meaning at the reach!" she grinned. As she spoke, the song had made its way to the rest of the wagon. Multiple strangers sang the same song in multiple languages, few she could understand.
How quickly a place on the road could feel a little like home.
How interesting it was to exist.
How lovely, she thought.
To hope for something meaningful.
—
Character Name: Hazel Smokewood
Character Race: Nua Sidhe (Human)
Character Age: 22
Brief Physical Description: A pale face, containing green eyes and a lazily kept amount of blonde hair, with a small shock of white amidst her bangs. She wears work clothes that pay little mind to appear nice, if only a little presentable.
