Roen

Sad and demented... ...But social! (it was fun!)

I should have posted this weeks ago. I totally forgot. Verad Bellveil. You have made me laugh and chuckle through some scenes where Roen was not in a happy place. Enough so I told other people about you, so that they came to see what the fuss was all about. (sorry about that last day... heh!) You are a delight.

Yes! I would contribute something if something was set up. It isn't fair for one person to foot the bill for this wonderful place. And you've been doing a fantastic job FreelanceWizard (odd calling you that...). People running things do not get enough credit. And unfortunately sometimes only grief. So thanks!

Minfilia and Thancred? Is that canon? Oh wait though... Thancred is a cutie... can I ship my own character with an NPC... >.>

I was an extra in the Power Rangers.

We should go on a noble pilgrimage to find Mr Face once more, and dedicate ourselves as his loyal disciples. Okay, so that means I'm adding Crisiet and Thaarus to the hit list, got it. *Writes down names* Are you not merciful?! .... I also feel the need to run around looking for Mr. Face.

I am proud of myself whenever I update my wiki after some major event. Don't ask what qualifies as a major event, I get to decide that so I can procrastinate as long as possible. And... Xydane. Just how many "come at me bro" memes do you have??

Great post Askier! I admire your positive attitude in dealing with all the questions and issues that rose. You are a patient and wise man. With a lot of spelling errors. Sometimes. I too have complete faith that everyone who has been collared/non-collared, no matter what their involvement, will play out the aftermath accordingly. That's what I am sooo curious about! From Osric who attacked the defenders, to Kiht who tried to kill Osric, to Crofte who hasn't even gotten involved yet... (I know there are more of you, I just am not aware yet what happened to you all...) Let the story play out! I am excited to see where this goes. AND! I do love the fact that this mutual threat is bringing people together (Brass Blades working with Flames! Free Paladins being pulled to work with Sultansworns!) against a common threat. (even some "villains" are going to try and help Ul'Dah... o_O ) As for those who are not involved in this RP... it could just be as vague as "Yeah there's some tension in the air alright" to... "Shite, I am paying WHAT for this glass of water??" Up to every individual to take it as they will. Keep up the good work, showrunners! Askier, Khan'a and Osric. Showrunners don't get thanked enough. :thumbsup:

So very lovely.

I LOVE it Suri! The backdrop is just stunning.

I will add my hello here with the rest. Welcome to Balmung! Perhaps our RP paths may cross someday!

“His actions have gone too far, Miss Rae.” “I had not expected the absolute complete success that he achieved. Or such ambition from one such as he.” “You expected him to fail. He has not. He has targeted every water supply within the Jewel.” “Indeed, Mister Taeros. I have vastly overestimated the defender’s capacity to stop him in time.” “The poison still takes hours? A day?” “The initial version took minutes. I convinced them to lengthen it, but it is only up to a day. But now there is a new element. Aether toxicity. Any attempt to cure it with aetheric energies will result in immediate death of one poisoned.” “Clever. And what of the Morbolvine Clan? Have they discovered the link?” “Of that, I am unaware. Miss Jakkya has been compromised.” “But if there is another within the Clan that--” “There are none other there that I trust.” “... Very well. And what of the antidote?” “The old one is defunct. You have the new one, as do I.” “Will more be forthcoming?” “Perhaps.” “...” “Do what you will with it, Mister Taeros. Do not think I know not where your true loyalties lie.” “As you would, Miss Rae. As you would.”

As a player whose character has alliances with the Syndicate, and plotting all the time with another player who works intimately with the Syndicate... Mass poisoning of the water supply of ALL OF UL'DAH is not something neither of these two characters above are happy with. And like with everyone else here, and with the cut scenes that were seen with the Leviathan main scenario, I would think the Syndicate opinions on this would also be split. Some looking solely to the profits, and others to the welfare of THEIR OWN BACKYARD. But because Syndicate is an NPC organization of the setting, I will only voice what the characters I control think and react to. That being said, I think there are some interesting developments on the horizon! :bouncy: And it seems no one that created the diversion yesterday actually knew what Jin'li was up to, but is now potentially accessory to mass murder. Let RP decide how that plays out, let's not go pass hard fast judgments yet. This is just the beginning after all! Let the story play out folks!

I think the consequences for all those that were collared and willingly took part in poisoning of the waters to result in hundreds unaware that would/could die from it... I think *that* is what I am looking forward to the most at the end this. Yes. I absolutely think there needs to be consequences for every action taken in RP. Else nothing holds weight. I am super excited to see how things play out. :bouncy:

((This post follows the events from here and here.)) She did not want to sleep. To sleep was to dream, and her dreams were filled with dark tormented things. Roen sat near the edge of the cliff with her legs folded under her, in a meditative pose. Her eyes were closed, her senses filled with the sound of the pounding waterfall in the distance. The cool misty air soothed her skin as it drank in the warm midday Noscean sun. Since Hornet’s visit to the camp Gharen had set up--a camp hidden within a remote alcove in Middle Noscea--her nights had been free of nightmares. Roen suspected it was in thanks to Hornet’s strangely scented herbal tea that she was no longer waking screaming in terror. But whenever she was left to her solitude to meditate, despite her best efforts to clear her mind and focus her thoughts, the forbidden memories returned. Memories of that cursed boat in the middle of the sea, to where she and the unconscious form of Askier were taken by Crimson Mountain after their hurried departure from Coerthas. “I'm going to mark your body, signify it as my own.” The memory of the Roegadyn’s voice still made her shudder. Screams followed; such screams filled with anguish, pain... begging for life, then begging for death. Askier had wanted to die. “We can escape. We can kill ourselves,” the golden-eyed Miqo’te had rasped, struggling to breath. "If we are driven to end our lives... he wins," Roen had whispered back. "We must survive this.” Roen was clinging onto what little hope she had left, that singular intent to survive not permitting the despair and hopelessness to overtake her. "Roen, if we get through this, is there any way I can repay you for the suffering I have forced you to endure?" Askier asked her, his swollen eyes closed, his head hung low. “Let us survive this first,” she said, trying to reassure him, though her voice faltered at his first hint of true regret. After a breath’s pause, another plea suddenly rose from her chest: “Please do not die.” Those words echoed in her memory and made her grimace. Even now, many suns since she and Askier were carried off that forsaken boat, and had been free of Crimson’s cruelty, even now she recalled the fear and loneliness, her desperation of not wanting to be left alone with the monster. She had asked Askier to live. He was nearly dead by the time the boat docked on Crescent Cove. But thankfully, he still drew breath when they were both carried off of it together. Delial had agreed to exchange herself for the hostages, agreeing to sail off with the Roegadyn. Because in some twisted way, Crimson Mountain still loved the Highlander woman. “And then Delial ended his life,” Gharen told her later. Roen felt nothing stir within her. No relief. No vindication. It was like an empty call that went unanswered within the black chasm that pitted her insides. "Roen. You're relieved of your duties.” Roen flinched in her mediation as Natalie’s last words came roaring back into her mind. Her former Sultansworn mentor’s voice had been cold and deliberate when she approached her at Crescent Cove. There was no sadness, no regret upon the Miqo’te’s unaffected exterior. “Ul'dah is no place for you. You’re far too weak for this city.” Tears fell onto her balled fists as Roen bowed her head, her meditative form broken. Her frame shook, all vestiges of focus and calm lost. All that she had endured, it had been because Natalie had arranged for her to be taken so that her brother’s death could be arranged. That knowledge crippled her like no other, shaking her to the core. Of all the people she loved and trusted, Natalie… she was the one who began all this. “Get away from me!!” Roen still remembered her own distraught words as she shrieked at the Miqo’te. She had crumpled to the ground, after her hands were freed from their unnatural contortion, being bound behind her to a collar around her neck. She could recall now how weak they were; she could not even raise them to her face to hide her humiliation and anger. Even now her fingers twitched upon her lap, as if trying to recall the simple task of moving again. Her arms had lost much of its muscle and strength, being held immobile that way for many suns. The recollections came with emotions that battered her with gale force winds of shame and torment. “Focus on the clear waters. Calm your thoughts.” Roen's voice shook. She struggled to recall Gharen’s lessons on meditation. Roen blinked through the blurriness of her vision as more moisture fell onto her hands that twitched again. Her form bent, she stared at her fingers as they opened, then closed into a tighter fist, her knuckles white. More voices flitted through her memory, like frightened fireflies skirting through the air, twisting and spinning, too flighty to catch and yet lending for a brief moment a glimpse of a promise. “You do not have to remain in the mud they drag you through," Ser Crofte’s voice came back to her. She shared with Roen an insight about her past that Roen did not truly appreciate at the time. “You are what you choose to be." "S'good t'see ye, too. E'en if tis a spectre." These from Qaeli Varily. The silver-haired Hyur had returned from her months of absence without explanation, and yet it only took her a few minutes to notice something was amiss. "Unwell or nae, ye're nae beyond repair." “I am not broken,” she heard herself say. More than once. She needed to believe it. “I just need to learn to get back up.” “Oh, aye," another voice said, floating past her conscious mind. "Even those things that I sell that are tangible - the blank books, the false maps, the fool's fool's gold - these are all things that have some kind of value, somewhere. They can be used, made good again. Even the most destitute, desolate thing, is worth something." Verad Bellveil, a curiously odd merchant of “dubious” goods that Roen had accidentally encountered in Limsa. He too had lent her threads of wisdom in their conversations. His words left her with inkling of hope, the same hope he held for his own goods. "This isn't your fault," Osric offered, his growly voice promising retribution. "And you can be gods-damned sure the rest of us'll see to balancing Nald's scales." Was that what she wanted? Would that close the gaping wound that still bled her from within? Crimson Mountain was dead; Delial, his lover, had done the deed herself. Askier had been tortured to an inch of his life. Gharen was free and alive, and Natalie… Natalie was still back in Ul’Dah, serving as a Brass Blade, answering to the will of the Syndicate. “This will most likely be my goodbye to you.” Kage had looked upon her with sad tearful eyes. “I... I couldn't let it only be my beret.” That white feathered beret. Osric had delivered it with the rest of her things from her room in Ul’Dah. She knew it was not hers. “Come now, Roen!" Kage's voice came to her from a simpler, happier time. "It’s the new trend! We both have one. You should too!” The Lalafell had worn such a proud grin when he modelled his newest prize, those many moons ago. The beret had a brilliant golden chocobo feather sticking out from one side. The pristine white fabric seemed to drink in the shining gleam of the new white paladin armor all three of them wore. The dark blue Sultansworn surcoat hung proudly from the shoulders. Even many suns after the Oath ceremony, it had still made Roen pause with admiration at the paladin regalia. Natalie had mirrored Kage’s smile, looking down at the Lalafell. Both tipped their beret in Roen’s direction, the slight breeze of the afternoon causing the fine golden feather fingers to dance and wave in the air. “You would look ravishing,” Natalie said with a laugh. Roen just shook her head, her arms crossed in front of her with skepticism. “Ah, nay. I think I can do without. I prefer my helm.” “You can’t wear your helm all the time! Especially not in the city!” Kage’s enthusiastic smile was almost contagious. “We are all Sultansworns now! I am just going to have to get you one, and you will have to wear it.” “You would not dare!” Roen vehemently waved her hands in front of the Lalafell, though a smile broke through despite her dismay. The three of them had laughed, there in the middle of the Ul’Dah thoroughfare. The memory seemed ages past. "It has been a pleasure and my honor to have known you, and to have been your oath-brother." Those were Kage’s last words as he visited Roen, bearing the grim warning that Captain Anduron was planning to send men after her to bring her back on charges of desertion. Kage had been charged with the task, but he defied the orders in warning her instead, intending to resign as a Brass Blade upon his return. He seemed resigned to whatever fate awaited him after. Roen glanced to the side where that white feathered beret sat, on the stones next to her. Her eyes lingered there, watching the wispy fingers as they trembled with each passing breeze. Such pride used to swell her chest before, back when the Oath was as real to her as the love her brothers and sisters of the shield bore her, and she them. And now… It only brought her sorrow and doubt. Would it always be this way? Kiht had looked upon her with such pity, her dark ears flattened against her head. Was that how the rest of them saw her? I am not broken. I just need to learn to get back up. Roen slowly straightened, drawing a deep breath in. Her eyes followed the course of the white waters as it made its descent from the clifftops to the rocky landing below. Such a violent fall... But the mists that resulted from it caught the sun’s rays, calling forth an arc of colors that that shimmered and painted the blue sky. Roen sat motionless and stared at the misty air, trying to discern the colors for a long time.

I do think taking on a mentor, or a mentor taking on a student, is a GREAT way for relationships to be made, for characters to meet other characters. Erik was Roen's first mentor when she arrived to Ul'Dah looking to become a Sultansworn, and one of the first players I met when I started to RP in this game! While their stories eventually branched away from each other, as all students eventually leave their teachers to grow on their own, I have to thank Erik for helping me out regarding learning some of the new mechanics in this game (I was an FF newb) and through him I met many other lovely characters too (hi C, Siha, and Jace!) early. Natalie and Gharen were also her mentors and needless to say, that has lead to so many interesting stories that are still going! So yes, I wholeheartedly recommend players starting out, that mentorship is a great way to go.

Whaaaat? He has multiple reasons to be pulled in!

....I must be the only one who has no idea what this judging thing is.

Oooo oooo ooo we need bad guys! Jin'li has so Mich he can promise . Lol. Seriously though, I'd be thrilled to have you rped in. Jin'li has had his ear to to ground looking for quality employees. Hook could be he has heard of your characters talents and approaches him to make an offer if you'd be up for it. I can do pm rp or in game, though my in-game time is kinda stretched and rp via rock is easier with my work schedule. Forum/PM RP is perfect by me. ...it's how I survive a full-time job. (Gotta love IT) As for Merc, his face was hidden in the last episodic RP during the kidnapping scene, but he's been a bit more public lately, after some events with Kage and Natalie. There's definitely some....""instability" left. And public rumors so far say "look for the grumpy guy in the Quicksand who's a mercenary without a name" and "don't call him 'porkchop' " (thank's to Nat). It could make some nice, complicated, RP if he ends up on an opposing side than Kage, at least in the beginning. I could have certain someone send Merc Jin'li's way... she knows Merc has been getting restless...

I had to think a long time for this! Okay for Roen: Olivia Dunham from Fringe, in terms of her quiet voice, her expressions, her tendency to be introspective, and seriousness and devotion to her work. She does not smile often, but when she does it really comes from within. If I had to pick just one character, it would be Olive. Then there is her stubbornness and a pinch of naivete in how she sticks to her ideals and Oaths. That's Brienne of Tarth. Lastly her tomboyish nature and her youthful innocence. I like Ivy Walker from The Village (anyone watch that movie?) and the look of Bryce Dallas Howard in the picture below is so perfect. (I could have picked Merida from Brave for the same reason, but she is no longer quite as rebellious or carefree since running away)

That is gorgeous Tiergan. Seriously.

Drybone Roen, I’ve need of you. Please forgive my silence. Please forgive me. Meet with me in Drybone. It is safer there. Please. D. Roen approached the cliffs overlooking Drybone with a tightness in her chest that she could not dismiss. Dark clouds gathered above, the desert sun quickly giving way to the thick press of humid air and ominous shadows. It mirrored the dread that choked her breath and weighed her thoughts. She had never heard such grim tidings from the Highlander before, the dark-skinned woman always ready with words of wit or comfort. Delial had been Roen’s confidant in her times of need since their meeting in Little Ala Mhigo; she had been there after the conflict at the Nanawa Mines, to lend a sympathetic ear to Roen’s distressed thoughts regarding her two mentors. Roen had despaired over her seeming betrayal of her Master at Arms, and the near deadly confrontation between her Sultansworn mentor and the Resistance. Delial had reassured her that both mentors would come to believe her innocence in the matter, and the misunderstanding would work itself out. And she was right, Master Gharen did forgive her, and Natalie had decided not to pursue the Resistance in favor of tracking down the Rose. But now this letter came for her, written in Delial’s hand. Roen did not know what to think. Even when Master Gharen warned her of Delial, and then decided to tail the Highlander for clues, Roen did not want to believe that she had anything to do with Aylard’s disappearance. But now… She was not so certain. She had not heard from Master Gharen in suns. But if he was tailing her, and she was to meet Delial, perhaps there was hope that she could see that he was well. Surely he would give her some sign, or perhaps even tell her that he had found nothing on Miss Delial to support his suspicions. So why was she finding it harder to believe it as she approached the lone Highlander overlooking Drybone? Delial waited alone in silence, a palpable heaviness in the air as Roen approached. Perhaps it was the woman’s posture: her head was lowered, eyes closed, and her lips coiled into a sharp frown. This was not the usual coy and confident Highlander Roen had come to know. Stranger still was the wooden box that rested at her feet. Roen approached, though even as she did so, her grey eyes darted about, looking for any other figures in the area. There was a part of her that hoped to catch just a glimpse. “You came,” Delial broke the silence, her eyes opening. “Your missive was alarming.” “My apologies. I did not know what to say.” Delial turned to face her, although her gaze did not rise to meet her. Indeed, there was an uncharacteristic uncertainly drawing tension to the woman’s jaw. “Something is wrong,” Roen tried to ignore the sudden dryness in her throat. "I've... I've come to learn a great deal these past suns. Thinking I might take the initiative, I..." Delial frowned deeply as she paused. "I must apologise. I am so very sorry, my dearest Roen. I had to..." She drew her breath and looked down to the box at her feet. “I had no choice. I…” Roen blinked quickly, her eyes shooting to the box. “What is… what is this?” "It is probably better not to see. I needed to deliver it. She wouldn't… If it was not done, she would know. She knows everything." Roen’s gaze darted between Delial and the box, dread drawing her brows low. "What is in the box, Miss Delial?" Delial Grimsong closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I believe he is ...was... called Greyarm." Roen felt all her breath leave her then. She darted forward, falling to her knees, her hands going to the box. “Roen, don’t--” was the only warning that was offered before the lid was opened. And soon as it was given air, an overwhelming stench of decay erupted from the box. The severed head inside wore a furious and pained expression even in death, his grey skin taut and dried, eyes sunken and shrivelled into dark black things. Roen staggered back from the parcel, her hand rising to her lips to stave off the wave of nausea that rose. "Do you know who -- no -- what it is that hunts us, Roen?" Delial asked, her eyes turned away from the grisly content of the package. "A monstrous woman. A Garlean. She seemed so…” Delial paused, shaking her head as if to correct herself. “I thought I might learn something. I didn't think she'd..." Roen was still staring at the severed head, its mouth opened in a silent scream. The face was screaming at her even in death. “She… she did this?” She could not pry her eyes from the dead man’s face. There was a long pause before Delial answered, as she wrapped her arms around herself. “No. I… I’m so sorry. I had no choice.” Her voice was strained whisper. “You…? You did this?!” Roen turned to Delial in horror. Heavy raindrops began to fall then, drumming against box and streaking the gruesome countenance. Roen’s hand trembled as she slowly closed the lid over it, as if giving it shelter would give it some reprieve from the violence that was visited upon it. "She knew everything. Aylard, Hroch. Shael and Ruva." Delial hesitated a moment as she leveled her gaze at Roen. "And... Gharen." Roen felt a chill run down her spine, and she stiffened. She met the woman’s gaze with dread. “Miss Delial." Her voice shook. "Have you seen... Master Gharen?" The Highlander nodded slowly. "He's alive. He is." Her eyes dropped down to the box, the closed with a frown. "She's had me watching him. I had to... prove myself. She wanted proof that I could be trusted." The rain and wind were pelting the two women now, tossing their hair and robes haphazardly about them. “...Alive..??” Roen stared at her eyes wide with fear. "I don't know what she means to do with him. Kill him, probably. Take what information she can from him, as she did with Greyarm...." "No... no!" Roen bolted to her feet, stepping towards the woman. "Where? Where is he?" "I-- I'm so... so sorry, dear Roen, please believe me. I can't... tell you. I can't. You must understand." Her thoughts whirled even as distant thunder rumbled above. She felt her panic give way to something else, her hands curling into a fist at her side. "Miss Delial, you did not call me here to apologize for his impending death." She gritted her teeth. "You called me here, because you knew I cannot let that be. You need to give me something." "No. I... You must understand. You... your friends... You stormed a Castrum, did you not? They're on edge now. That I even told you is a risk. They have ears and eyes all over Thanalan. Everywhere. It is safer here , but... If they know that you know..." Delial grimaced. "I know it is not what you want to hear. But... please. Give me time." “Give you time? For what?” "I swore that I would help you. Let me protect Gharen. I ... I think I can find a way. He is the key to everything. I must..." Roen spun away, her hands digging into her hair as panicked eyes looked to the greyness all around. A part of her was desperate to see a figure, some sign, to show her that what Delial was saying was untrue. That she would see the his face, out there, watching them. But all she saw were whirling and spinning leaves ripped from trees bent by the storm. "I... misjudged. One forgets that not everyone is as they seem. Please, believe me when I say I thought I was working for the good of Ala Mhigo. I was wrong." The Highlander let out a heavy breath. “Call it haste, or desperation. I needed to act, to do something... and in doing so, mayhaps I sealed my own fate. I do not expect to walk away from any of this alive. But seeing what I have had to do... it would be but a fitting punishment." Roen still stared out into the dark stark landscape, clinging to the last vestige of hope. "You said he is alive..?" "He is. She's keeping him safe." "Who is she, this woman you speak of?" Roen turned to face Delial, her hands trembling. "She is called Banurein. A cold woman, heartless. I would dare say she is a voidsent in a hyur's skin, so... so empty and cruel as she is. I expect that my usefulness will run low soon, and I will likely vanish as well. Time has never been more important. So I am begging you, Roen.” Delial took a step towards her, her pale eyes pleading. “Let me help. Let me atone for my wrongdoing. Give me time to fix this." "What will you do?” Roen narrowed her eyes, suspicion now steeling her voice. "She's been doing something to him. Some sort of wicked magic, the likes of which I have not seen before. I need to attend to him, ensure he survives it. And when he is strong enough, I will... I will send him on his way. Break him out. I think. I don't know." Her voice lowered morosely. "I'm no hero, Roen. I'm no adventurer. But I must do what I can." All the air left her chest and Roen felt herself grow cold. "So what are you asking me to do…?" "Nothing. Go on as if nothing is amiss. I know it is difficult, I know it is... infuriating. But that is what you must do." "As if nothing is amiss..?" She asked incredulously. "This woman, she is... it is an unnatural spirit she carries about her, this knowledge of things believed secret. The Garleans are here far more entrenched than either of us could imagine. Eyes and ears all over Thanalan, and all over Ul'dah itself." Single pale amber eye stared at Roen with a warning. "One false word and she will know. And she may kill Gharen rather than risk another attack." Roen turned her gaze back down toward Drybone, the torrential downpour now having soaked through her hair; water was running in rivulets down her face. Was Delial to be believed? Roen desperately looked about as if to search for any other option than to accept what the Highlander was telling her. If she were to arrest the woman… then what of his fate? What did the woman have to gain by telling her all this? By bringing her Greyarm’s decapitated head? Did she have any other choice than to believe the woman? To save his life? "... I could not risk exposing this within earshot of anyone down there. There is no telling who is who. People are not as they seem, my dearest. You are with the Sultansworn, yes? Do you truly know everyone who wears the title?" Roen Deneith twisted her lips, not liking the answer that rose from her lips. "Nay. I do not." "Then you know I am not wrong in asking this of you." Roen narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards the Highlander woman. “Miss Delial, perhaps I can do something. They wanted me back. They were willing to trade for a man’s life, for my return.” She pleaded desperately, her mind racing. “I will return. This time with no deceit. I need to help him. If there is anything that they want from me..!” Delial stared back at her, certain keen intensity gathering about the woman. “I know, Roen. I understand. Believe me, I do. I can only promise you that I will come to you, and only you, if I think I may need your help.” Delial rubbed at her temple and gave her a small pitiful grin. "You are of stronger stuff than me, I expect, though I may carry myself otherwise. If there is anyone I can trust, if there is anyone I could turn to... It could only be you, naturally." There was naught she could do. She felt her stomach twist with a pit of despair. “I will continue as if... nothing is amiss." She surrendered. Delial stepped closer to her, clasping her hands about Roen’s shoulders. “I swear to you, Roen. If it is the last thing I do, you will see Gharen Wolfsong again. I will do whatever it takes to get him back.” Roen struggled to remain stoic, meeting the Highlander’s gaze. “Please. Keep him alive.” "I will keep you informed. But please. Burn the letters after." The darker woman canted her head. “We will be... strong for him. Together, yes?" her gaze drifted to the box at their feet. "Please beg the son for my forgiveness. I ... wish I could in person. It is a most painful thing I have done to him. It is not only to you whom I must atone." "I do hope you find your atonement, Miss Delial." Roen heard her own voice, dull to her ears. She was still trying to grip with this news. Her eyes sought that of the Highlander. "I am taking you at your word. That you will do whatever you can to bring Master Gharen back." "It will be so. Trust in me." Delial nodded once, then glanced about cautiously before she walked off into the swirling grey winds. Roen watched her leave, her silhouette slowly swallowed by the dark storm. She turned then to the rest of the desert, desperation tightening its grip around her heart. It was a long moment before she buried her face in her hands and wept.

If there's a better place to meet sweaty muscular men Hornet has yet to hear about it. You know, if I ever dust off my bard alt for live RP... Grindstone was where she was going to go to do just that. Enjoy the scenery of sweaty muscular men.

HAHA Nooooo worries. I don't want anything manufactured out of the blue on purpose for my girl. I will still watch from the periphery happily and entertained. And yes, we should set up a meeting for the Doctor. This plot however has taken some interesting twists! "What have you done..."

NICE. So that's what he looks like without all that hair. I don't know that many would recognize him now. Which is ... kind of awesome. ... *cries* I wish I could be involved. Alas!