Roque's Recess, Samheen 1224 to Chyril 1225 AD

[Syra]

Samheen, traditionally a time of peace and quiet before the holiday season. This month proved to be a bloody exception for the Summer City. After yahren of neglect by the Royal House Balthasar suddenly showed up to demand troops for his desperate fight in the West. Unable to countermand the royal command the city gave in, only to face a terrible fight of their own shortly after.
With the boundaries between realities fading a bloodmage turned all deaths towards his growing spiral of power, forcing the innocents to slay those around them. Searching for the true power of this splendid city he almost managed to ruin it to the bare foundations.

Now that the imminent threat is gone, people turn to rebuild their city and their hopes. The cost has been great: the entire council of noblemen and merchants has been murdered. Many noble houses lost their ruling member. Families are regrouping, trying to regain their standing and strength while the commoners walk around, wondering why Balthasar did not protect them; why this had to happen to the protected city by the Mer. They too lost their voice with the strong people who were whisked away by the Western armies.

It leaves Roque d’Ancourt vulnerable and open. Those that realize the gap are trying very hard to usurp that position, causing new Houses to rise to power as they are all gaining their own group of followers.

In their example the lawless people –the pirates, the bandits- too are regrouping, having lost two of their three leaders who held the balance in check. After the initial victorious looting they realize that a plundered city has no worth and are trying to rebuild in their own way while famous swashbuckler Raven Darkheart escapes the falling city with his crew to resurface in Nether' Gate.

The trade is hardly touched as there are plenty of people to do the work that needs to be done. It is the shock of so many deaths, so much wanton destruction that has shaken the inhabitants into either despair or the profound need to start anew.

More volunteers spring up from nowhere with the theatergroup the Flightless Waterfowls picking up the pieces and bringing back hope and encouragement to the people. The monestary still stands, harbouring those that lost their homes and feeding the ones that cannot take care of themselves. The Summerpalace -former retreat of the King- has been spared miraculously, the people inside untouched by violance, albeit shocked by the devastation of the surrounding city.

Roque soon decides not to need any ruling body from outside, seeing the horrors that it brought upon them. Commoners and nobles alike finally stand together in a serious attempt to become –and stay- independant from the Western Kingdom.

This is the time to stand up and speak.
This is the time to grab what is yours by right.
This is the Splendid Summercity where nothing will ever be taken for granted again.

This is the Roque d’Ancourt of today, Chyril 22nd 1225 AD.

ooc
Please post your recess summaries in this thread. Enjoy your time and remember to pm your moderator in case of doubt or questions.

[Callara]

OOC: This write up is under the assumption Callara will live to see the next morningtide…

Callara goes back to the home of her aunt and uncle in uptown Roque after a day of insanity and mental pressure to find them alive and well, though a bit shaken by the events of Samheen 30th. Not surprising due to everything that has happened thus far.

Several tides pass and more clarity arises about what has happened outside of Callara’s scope of view. Noble families were killed, heads of important houses assassinated. Callara’s family being somewhat wealthy, but not noble, has been spared. Callara is still debating wether this is a good or a bad turn of events for the goals she has set for herself in the short span of time she has spent surviving in the city.

She discovers that Jules has gone missing. Too tired to assist the search immediately, she leaves her cousin and her aunt and uncle to work on it while she rests up a bit to sort her thoughts. This turns out to be somewhat different from what she is used to as somehow she suddenly seems to be getting input from other senses outside of the five regular ones. But she manages and after a few weeks of anxiety and desperate searching by her family, Jules returns back home on her own accord. Not for long though, for as it turns out, after she ran out into the streets on that faithfull morning, she got caught up in the mayhem. After the storm had passed, she met someone amidst the ruines of Roque. Someone she is determined on spending the rest of her life with. As such, Jules plans to leave her parental home immediately, causing a lot of tension in the house, as her parents had had very different plans for their “little girl”.

This does however make life a little easier on Callara, with her aunt and uncle focussing their attention on Jules rather than her, she is free to go explore all the new knowledge and sensations she has aquired. After several moons she has found that she is capable of detecting the use of magic. She “sees” the flow of magic, particularly elemental magic related to air jumps out strongly at her.

This new ability requires some researching, and well into the new yahren she has grasped the basic ability to trace magic usage pertaining to air with a rather satisfying degree of accuracy. In turn, upon tracing the origins of a particularly powerful magical centre just outside of Roque she happens upon a mage by the name of Ushuaia. He is quite unpleased with Callara discovering his presence high on top the cliffs of Roque, but Callara is reluctant to let herself be sent off back into the rebuilding city with it’s feuding noble houses.

OOC: Not sure if we should play out this next bit or not, I’ll leave it in there for mod discretion. Chocolate anyone?

This man could educate her, and she is not going to pass up an opportunity like that. Both persist in their point of view, but after a while Callara’s stubborn reluctance to let him off the hook and after Ushuaia pushing and testing her with some of his magic he sees some potential and does eventually agree to teach her. To what this will lead, only time will tell…

EDIT BY SYRA:
Granted!
The final scene is simply a dramatization of what we agreed upon. Stars have been distributed.

Star Distribution:

Manipulation... [Mindcraft] +****
Aura Perception +**
Blood Magick +**
Resolve +*
Inner Calm +*

[Finley Ward]

To any who knew Finn it would seem preposterous that such a thing might have come about, even impossible. The man's character could have led nobody to believe such a situation might be likely, and certainly there were people both alive and dead who might have scoffed at such an idea and called it ludicrous. However, things are not always as they first appear, and for appearances' sake, it is here, at this most unlikely situation, that we shall begin.

Here, as the morning bells toll in the tall, white tower of the Monastery of the One, their bright sound carrying over the dockside and fisherman's district, as the monks began to open their doors to the people of Roque, their morning prayers completed and already awake since before dawn; it is here, in this most unlikely of venues, and among these most unlikely of people, that you would find Finley Ward. And here, he wears the white robe of the faithful.

He had been a monk for almost three months now, since leaving World's Mouth for the sunnier shores of Roque and finding the city in ruins. Since arriving dockside only to be taken in by the men in white robes. Initially, it appeared to be simply a question of convenience, for the monastery were offering shelter and food to the displaced and Finn was never a man to turn down anything free unless there were some vast catch. The lies began immediately, of course, Finley pretending a lost wife, and later lost children. His false sorrow and mourning for lost loved ones gained his entrance to this religious shelter. Becoming one of their number was merely a way to remain.

Nobody suspects the holy man. Finn pondered this idea for at least the hundreth time, watching the parishioners file into the entrance way of the monastery and trying to keep the slight smirk from his face. Here, his robes were spotlessly white; his hopelessly messy hair, now reaching his shoulders, was neatly tied back at the nape of his neck; and his face and fingernails both were clean. Little seemed to remain of his former self besides his dark eyes, which despite his efforts at playing the part - and quickly, he learned to do this exceptionally well - remained somewhat cold. Try as he might, he could not quite disguise the look of utter uncaring blankness that so frequently invaded his expression. Thankfully, the true monks of this place explained away this behaviour for themselves. Finley was playing the part of a husband and father in mourning, and it could hardly be surprising to see such a man withdrawn, silent, apparently uncaring. Finn had been careful to ensure his actions appeared the opposite, and nobody could ever quite place blame.

On the contrary, it seemed he was (for the most part) well-liked about the monastery. He had taken steps to learn to read and write in one of the many classrooms - in order to teach the word of the One better, of course. His broken leg had healed nicely enough - though not quite perfectly, leaving him with a slight but noticeable limp in his left leg, something that would never quite go away. With every day that passed he meticulously maintained this facade... it was essential to the continuation of the scam.

But, as he crossed the broad entrance way to begin his day's duties as a (false) monk of the One, he became aware that he was growing bored with it all. While the mask of a monk was an ideal way to prevent fingers pointed in your direction - more than once in the last three months had a blonde corpse washed up on the beaches of Roque, but none had ever come to the monastery asking for a culprit - it became tiresomely restrictive. It had provided disguise for many opportunities, and sating his confused desires towards young women had been the least of it. With the rebuilding of Roque, the monks had spent much time around the neighbourhood offering support and religious aid to those in desperate need, and this had provided Finley with a neat excuse to spend many hours absent from the monastery itself and pursue other, less holy, intentions.

And with the rebuilding of Roque there had been a great many desperate, needy people. People who would do almost anything for help. Help came in more than one form, Finley had reasoned... and it was this reasoning which had led to the primary scam he was running at present. In the guise of a monk he provided aid to the people, aid that came in the form of opium, brought in by the pirates of the Mer and moved nicely into town via the conveniently located Monastery of the One. Setting up such an operation had been the tricky bit - initial funds not being readily available - but a simple raiding of the collection box early one morningtide had solved that minor problem, and Finn had even replaced the money within a tenday in order to cover his tracks. For almost two months now it had been a small but steady business, customers predictably coming back time and time again. While discretion was essential, Finn had found ample opportunity to 'talk' to his customers as part of the duties of 'religious calling', and provided they didn't speak too loudly of where they had got their latest fix it would all continue to go smoothly.

Those funds the small scam made mostly were stored and saved, carefully hidden away in the cell-like room Finn occupied in the monastery. He had spent little of it, aside from fairly regular sums that went on bottles of whiskey, hidden alongside the money. He could no longer get quite as drunk as he'd have preferred, but his own little habit continued unabated despite his apparent religious vows. These were his small indiscretions, and hidden as only a very paranoid man could hide such things, Finn appeared a paragon of virtue. Any good scam worked entirely around what people wanted to see... and when they looked at Finley, what they wanted to see was a monk. It required only a little additional effort to ensure that was all they saw. Lies, upon more lies - a foundation entirely of sand.

Despite the relative convenience of this pretence of a life, it was beginning to come to its conclusion - this was a fact Finn found he could ignore less and less. The benefits - and there were many, from the free room and board to the constant and convenient cover story, nobody ever suspects the holy man - had begun to be outweighed by the mind-numbing, draining effort of it all. It would have been a hard life without the additional stress and effort of maintaining this false facade, without the constant looking over one's shoulder, without the constant deceit and play-acting. Most of all, Finn yearned to go down the pub, or maybe the whorehouse... and get recklessly drunk, without caring who might be looking on.

It was Chyril already. Finn sighed softly between his teeth, watching with tired eyes the hopeful faces of the faithful, looking to him for reassurance. Most of them were, of course - he noticed one who was looking for something else entirely. The problem was, he considered, that it had stopped being fun... it had become work. Too much work.

He had begun to suspect it might be time to move on...

--------------------------------


As for skills, I'm opting for Literacy as a new skill - and the others? Mod discretion. Perhaps disguise, or acting, or a couple of stars on murder, or similar. :) Award as you see fit, and I shall be most pleased! Thank you! :D

EDIT BY SYRA:
Granted!
Stars distributed as follows:
Literacy (new skill)
Con man + **
Bartering/haggling + **
Business perception + *

[Motley]

Motley's Recess Summary

He later, much later, came to know the man's name as Marcus. For the first few weeks after the ordeal with that same Marcus and the Red Death he wielded, Motley spent much of the time healing and recuperating. The dichotomies in his short life were strange and wonderful. He was ugly and twisted on the outside, yet peaceful and serene on the inside. He was a troubadour and a poet, yet lived a life far removed from such beauty and art. He was cut, beaten, battered and bruised on the outside, yet he had never felt better. Outside his body had been torn and punctured by innumerable shards of broken glass, yet inside, he felt solid and more together than ever before. It was perhaps the most selfless, heroic thing he had ever done, and even more amazing, he had lived to tell about it. It filled him up to know that he could accomplish such a thing. A measure of confidence surged through him as being able to take on the big obstacles now. It had been a contest of wills and of intelligence, and with the help of two lovely ladies; he had come out victorious. The euphoria from that more than made up for the scars that he would carry for the rest of his days.

He took a good long look at himself in the mirror one morning. A shard of glass had sliced a deep, penetrating cut from under his eye to his jawline. It had been serious and painful, and bled for days on end before it finally scabbed over and began to heal. Motley thought it made him look tougher somehow, like he had been roughed up by the world, which of course, he had but now he had proof. The cut had silenced him for a long while, and Motley went weeks without uttering a word for fear the pain of pulling open the wound once more. It hurt to smile but he did it anyway whenever guests came to visit with him.

Gerben was one of those regular visitors, and for the first weeks after Marcus, Motley spent the majority of his time holed up with books about Roque history and magic theory that his benefactor brought during one of his visits, as well as a few he’d filched from Marcus. The enigmatic Gerben apologized for not having better source material for the ugly little bard to absorb, but Motley devoured the information quickly as his thirst for such tomes was rarely satisfied. Angelica came to visit several times as well. The little girl was always a welcome sight to the twisted little man, and they traded stories and songs when he was well enough to speak and sing again. He continued to be amazed by the young girl’s ability to wrap her guardian, the portly Sister Fullys, around her finger, not to mention how Angelica was not afraid to tell deeper, more sinister and metaphysical stories when the Sister was out of earshot.

When he was able to get up and around he knew there were a few things he felt compelled to do. The first was finding a place to live. Since he had arrived, he had been on the go so much that simply hadn’t needed a home. But now that he was trying to recuperate and make a new life for himself here, he knew he needed his own place and his own space once again in the city. He found a quiet, sturdy little place against the wall on the lower side near the merchant quarters that was perfect. It wasn’t much, just a little brick home with a red door and a tiny bedroom upstairs. For the first time in a long time he set his lute down in a place he intended to call home. Luckily the place came with a few sparse furnishings, so at the very least he had a bed and a chair to sit in. He told no one where it was and was careful to watch for any signs of pursuit or being watched as he came and went from his new home. Ghosts of the Lady of Dragonskeep still lingered in him, and he wanted to be cautious as he made a new life for himself. He knew that filling his house up with the books and instruments and furniture and other things he loved would come later as he made money performing.

To that end, another compulsion was to contact Jonah and the Waterfowls and began to perform with them occasionally. In the beginning, he simply played music as singing and being on stage would have been very difficult for him physically, but as his strength returned, he grew content to simply play accompaniment for the troupe wherever they performed, and used this time to hone his skills with his pipes as well as his lute. This brought in enough to live on, enough to buy a few things here and there and even enough to squirrel away a few banners that he saved for an emergency.

Since his performances were largely on a part time basis, he had many free days and nights to wander the summer city and get re-acquainted with her and her people. He visited his mother’s grave often, and each time he did, his third compulsion grew and manifested a new desire in his heart. For many yahren, he had been content to let the past be the past and although he looked back often, it had always been done without regret or curiosity about the circumstances of his birth. With his recent brush with death, he found himself more and more interested about solving the one riddle that he’d left unanswered nearly all of his life. As the days and weeks wore on, he would spend entire tides pouring over old records and scrolls in La Libram Excellence searching for clues and anything that might lead him to the answer. With every book, every tome, every scroll, he inched closer to a solution and he took copious notes about any scrap of information he could. Before long, he had an entire book filled with hints, clues, allegations and innuendo, but nothing concrete. He simply had not found the piece of the puzzle that would unlock the past, but he was determined to keep searching for it anyway. It was easy to lock your self away in a big empty library during the winter and read next to a fire, and that is much of what he was content to do.

When spring came Motley began to find his voice again. He began to do vocal exercises again, and found that the rest and relative silence had made his singing resonant and strong once more. He delighted in playing and singing for the orphans of the monastery, and invented little legends for them to follow and understand. He read to them, sang to them, all under the watchful eye of Sister Fullys. For some strange reason, even now she seemed not to trust him, or so he thought.

It was only a few weeks ago as Chyril dawned where he felt the itch to test his magic again. It was seeing Alazandra again at the monastery and when he saw her, the scar on his face began to throb and burn. He had distanced himself from the Waterfowl for much of the cold winter, but seeing her again conjured up a return to the great pain and wondrous magic of that fateful Samheen day, and to truly move on, he needed to face it once again. He spoke to her of his doubts and his fears, and did his best to explain his withdrawal. They came to an agreement to meet and practice and he upheld his end of the bargain by meeting her on time and every time they set a date. At first trying to exert his power again that way brought pain and fear, and it was difficult for him to overcome that. But over recent days, it began to feel like an unused muscle. It somehow seemed stiff and sore, but use and practice made it better and it began to seem normal again. He tried to use some of the techniques and theories that were in the books that Gerben had given him, and he shared the books and knowledge with Alazandra freely. He never shared the location of his home with her, but he always met with her despite that.

For the most part, little changed in Motley’s world, but that was largely superficial. Under his own skin, he felt profoundly different and headed towards a destination instead of aimless and shiftless wandering.


Skill advances;

Lute = +* to Apprentice ****
Pipes = + ** to Apprentice **
Resolve = +* to Apprentice
Create Music = +* to Apprentice ****
New Skill: History of Roque – Basic

EDIT by Syra:
Summary approved and skills added Enjoy!

[Alexandrya L`handriel]

Samheen 29 - Yulember 6

It took some time for Alexandrya to recuperate fully. Most of the time she was laid up in bed staring off into what looked like nothingness, her eyes unblinking as if her mind had shut down.

Her condition did not seem as physical as Motley's but for those weeks, it was as if she was in a catatonic state. In her mind, the young achadhiel was very much conscious. It was as if she was coming to terms with what she had felt. The energies that had converged was being worked at in her very meditative state.

She knows something was different but that was the extent of it. While others believed her to be an empty shell and even had to force feed her for a couple of days when she did not eat or drink anything, Alexandrya came to terms with the few things she did know but there were still a lot of gaps to be filled.

It was also during last week of her coma that she started to develop a fever. She spoke gibberish at certain times softly as if conversing with someone. The silent tears would appear as if she could not let go. Others times, she cried in her sleep at such a great loss that even Solange could hear Alexandrya in her office and caused most to shudder at the magnitude of the emotions the achadhiel flew about the place even causing some to cry or become solemn.

It was as if she was finally mourning for someone that was dear to her. The only one that could console her during those times was Jonah who listened to every intangible word that was spoken as if he understood as he gently brushed her hair. He would hold her close and whisper stories of his youth to calm her and tried to make her laugh on days she did not respond.

Three days after the fever had appeared, it broke and Alexandrya's eyes opened to a rough looking Jonah. He had fallen asleep by her bedside which caused her to blush but again gave her that opportunity to watch him sleep. She must have ruffled the sheets too much because it had awoken him and after looking surprised to see her awake and staring back at him the silver-haired achadhiel even had the strength to tell him that he looked horrible which caused him to laugh and then hug Alexandrya.

Yulember 14

She was on a fast road to recovery and was grateful that she finally had a room of her own with some help from Jonah who suddenly had a lot to do and seemed to be avoiding her again and then one day he had disappeared completely without a word to any of the Fowls except Antonia who claimed that he had kissed her passionately and stated he would be leaving and unable to marry her because he found another love and left to meet up with her.

This caused quite a stir of outrage with a lot of the other actors and actresses of the house and Solange was probably hurt more than anyone else. Alexandrya was just confused and then slowly it grew into boiling anger for the victim, who in this case was Antonia. She fully believed Antonia's story knowing that he did love someone deeply and even though she had a strange feeling that he did not seem the type to keep ties in such chaos, it hurt her deeply as well that he would not even have enough will to at least say good bye to her. It showed how much he had valued their friendship...acquaintance...whatever. She did not know anymore.

The leading actress made it a point to cry all over the leading men and anyone that would listen to her story which became more embellished and even one time hinted at a possible pregnancy. Most ignored her dramatics but it was still a constant reminder of their own feelings of betrayals that one of their own just left without warning.

The rest of the month, Alexandrya could not understand it, but she felt the people of the city crying. So many on the streets, so many still recuperating and others still mourning the loss of the blood mage's actions.

She knew the next two months would be the most difficult because of the winter weather but it did not stop her from her ideas.

The young actress knew that there was some resentment from Solange because Jonah had given her so much credit and then tarnished his own reputation. It did not stop Alexandrya though as she requested a meeting with Solange pitching the idea of rebuilding Roque while entertaining would both get the Fowls' name out there as well as encourage more people to get to work to building Roque to an even more beautiful city.

So they set to work, advertising to have any help they could get as well as entertaining during the times they were not working. The Fowls with Alexandrya and Solange's instruction also found different avenues of both assistance for the rebuilding and to up the troupe's popularity. Of course, Solange could not resist the idea of free publicity.

There was interest stirred in the rich that had lost many of their homes and even the ones that did not have money to give, had other means to assist through food, labor, etc.

Also, it was she that had talked to Solange about Motley joining the Fowls for a little extra money and when the leader of the Fowls heard Motley's performance it was difficult for her to say no.

Alexandrya even involved herself with the monestary where she met the orphaned children which hit a very emotional cord with her especially a little girl named Angelica who had a heart of gold. She had an idea to teach the children how to sing to occupy themselves and even perform for the ones that took care of them. Even though most might be turned off by the little girl with the burns, the young achadhiel loved the little girl most of all. Hugs were given to her especially as well as all the little children that needed them.

During the winter times, even though construction was slow, they tried to do it on dates that looked good enough to work, and as aid, Fowls would physically assist as well as keep moral by singing carols.

The silver-haired achadhiel had also asked Solange to teach her how to design and sew more costumes as well as mend the old ones. Alexandrya hated the idea of being a burden and did whatever she could to assist the head of the Fowls with any task she could think of or was asked to do especially when she was only a stand in.

On days off, she made sure to visit Gerben and made tea as well as extend her studies with him. The theory of being able to control all the elements of nature's magicks fascinated her. She knew what she had seen during their fight with the blood mage's construct and the use of wind caused her to also dive into water and fire's magic theories as well.

Despite how busy she was, Alexandrya often thought of Jonah and secretly hoped he was all right and even happy. Antonia's recovery was amazing as she had her gaggle of men to keep her company and the achadhiel felt it was best that the scout had found someone that would love him as much as he loved her because to her, Antonia was incapable of loving. Just the presentation of love.

Darkenry

For the first weeks everything went by fast with her busy schedule, she made sure to keep herself working with the Fowls and the builders as well as the funders, while learning what Gerben had to teach her and spending time with the children at the monastery.

There were some strange events that started to crop up which the achadhiel could not explain. Alexandrya was walking home when she suddenly felt hot and her body shook as if being overcome by pleasure. It was a sudden and unexplained onset and it took her a moment to calm herself as she sunk down in the snow trying to overcome whatever was taking over her.

Another time, she knew that she was in a good mood picking up some groceries for the Fowl's dinner when again suddenly she felt a rage in her heart as well as fear that could not be explained. The other strange incident was that there was a couple that was fighting. The husband raged on as the woman looked pale and about to faint. The achadhiel did not stop to ponder as she started to run quickly back towards her home.

During the past months, Alexandrya got to know the Fowls pretty well. She tried her best to stay clear of Antonia who usually got on her last nerve and often made Alexandrya feel like a servant. Faye was not so bad.

At times, Xavier, the dark, handsome bad guy lead would try to seduce the young adchadhiel which she rarely fell for. Instead, she would smile then wink and walk away. The man felt that she was playing hard to get when she was not interested at all.

It also confused the usually shy or standoffish Laurent who was a ravishing gorgeous man who played the male good guy role. He was often shy around women who constantly fell at his feet just so he would have to explain to them that he was not interested. Not that he like to play with young lady's hearts, but because he did not lean towards the feminine persuasion. Alexandrya never considered Laurent anything more than a friend or brother which confused him and he took a great knock on his ego. The actor had pulled the young achadhiel aside to try to seduce her just so he could reject her and she only giggled and kissed his cheek. She told him that he is beautiful and it had nothing to do with him. She also just wanted to be friends and even told him that the Fowls was her first real family. Slowly, Laurent became her confidant when she had something superficial to share but still kept all of her darker secrets hidden away.

Chyril

It was after a time that Alexandrya's headaches started to return and to a magnitude that it was almost crippling and caused her to hide in a darken corner covering her eyes and ears from the emotional assault that made no sense to her. Tears of great sorrow would erupt when she had no desire to cry, but she vaguely remembered a woman weeping just moments before as if her heart was broken. The young achadhiel did her best to hide and even try to ignore these unexplainable changes within her. She was not going crazy as her heart fluttered with fear when she could not control these emotions.

It took Laurent several hours to come out of her room only to find that her eyes were puffy from tears and his anger rose as he tried to find out who had hurt her and she only to say that she was just feeling a bit under the weather and the tears were sort of cathartic. He did not believe her, but he knew her well enough not to push especially when she told him to calm himself and that she will be all right with a stubborn set in her jaw.

One day in early Spring, Alexandrya had met Motley by chance at the monastery when she was visiting the children. She had seen him several times during certain performances with the Fowls but the rest of the time he would keep to himself and she did not feel it was necessary to push him. As it was slowly turning into spring she spent some time with her new friend to learn more about the magic that they held inside of them. Luckily enough, she never had an attack when Motley was close and they usually tried to find more secluded areas away from the city.

Unfortunately, while on one of her visits with Gerben, Alexandrya felt such grief from her mentor that caused her to collapse and stopped responding to his voice except she seemed to feel his emotions. The grief of his murdered son still hung around him quite thickly even more so today. Then it was Gerben's concern for her had reached out and grasped her which frightened her so much that she tried to run only to have the man hold her with a fierce hug that caused her to pass out from being overwhelmed.

She woke up screaming and before Gerben could try to calm her or ask questions, she ran home. Most of the Fowls were out so she decided it was best to take a nap. Inside her room she wept. It was her own emotions that she was at least sure about. She could not figure out what was going on but too scared of what may be going on. With shaking hands, Alexandrya wrapped her body up with the blankets and placed her pillow on top of her head as if hiding. Tomorrow would be another day and she hoped that this, whatever this was, will just go away.

Sewing
Meditation *
Empathy *
Persuade *
Singing *
Manipulation of Energy: MindCraft *

EDIT by Syra:

A lovely dramatization of the things we discussed. Granted and skills added!