It was the onset of quintahl (PS Autumn). Cooling weather urged Yliakum's farmers to bring in harvests. Preparations were underway for the bountiful celebrations and feasts of the season, a reward for tremans (PS summer) long toiling under crystal lit fields. Aware of none of these things, a female nolthrir lies sleeping, aqua blue skin glistened, slicked by the early morning's dew. Her near nude body shivers between gusts of brisk dawn air. Awakening, her teal irises peer from behind reluctantly parted eyelids. She idly recognizes the tangled mat of inky black strands of hair blocking most of the view as her own.
A coalescing sense of fear permeates her waking thoughts as she stirs, her mind groping for consciousness and evasive answers that refuse to come. Where is she? How did she come to this place? Even her own name eludes her. The surrounding fields of grasses in which she lay gradually come into focus as her fitful thoughts give way to more immediate needs. She winces sitting up, pain throbbing from the side of her head. Her hand reaches instinctively to rub against the bump she knows it will find there. Shaking hair from her vision, she studies the surrounding field and hills.
Eyes refocus to her tightened fist as she realizes, clutched within, is a crumpled parchment. A furtive glance around reveals no one within sight. She delicately unfolds the parchment. A bright gleaming first diverts her attention to a highly polished golden ring contained within. Without stopping to read, she slips the ring onto a finger. "Perfect fit" she mouths silently, then noting, as she holds it to the morning light for closer examination, engraved lettering. "Dannae Reinor," she speaks aloud. Vague recognition tingles her mind. Yes, she knows this nameā¦ it feels somehow right on her mind's tongue. Glancing back to the parchment, she begins to read what appears to be hastily scratched lettering. Her lips move in a trembly whisper as she reads aloud to herself,
"My Dearest Dannae, A new startā¦ a new beginning, a new life. I give you this, though my heart breaks for it. Your past will be lost to you, as will I. I have made certain of this. Do not, I plead of you, attempt to find me, retrace your past, or leave the dome level. That path leads only to ruin and will undo all I have so carefully contrived. I've ensured your safety from events you cannot understand nor have any knowledge of. You are young, fair, and smart. I trust you will find it easy here to make acquaintances, friends, and yes, new loves. With my deepest sympathies and heartfelt regret, I must leave you to your new life, Miss Reinor".
A frown creases her brow as she crumples the tear-stained parchment tossing it to the ground. On impulse, she retrieves the wrinkled paper, folding and tucking it into a waistband pocket. Rising gingerly to her feet, she shakes off stiffness which had crept into her limbs after a nights sleep on cold ground. She glances around one more time to gathering her bearings. Reaffirming she's been left with nothing but the sparse skirt and breast wrappings she awoke in, she sets off toward a distant path visible along the valley floor below. "Dannaeā¦ Dannae", she repeatedly speaks in a low voice to herself as if fearing the name would be lost again should her thoughts be interrupted.
At length, she had clambered a good way down the hill. As she rounded a copse of trees, a flash of dark gray movement caught her eye. "Screeeeeee" rang out in a high pitched, deafening, cacophony of sound. Instinctively, she ran low, hurling herself into a nearby thicket to lie still, heart pounding. "Screee, scree" the screetching continued until gargantuan wings unfolded casting Dannae into shadow as the startled pterosaur took flight. She breathed a sigh of relief as the creatures cries faded into the distance. "You'll be safe here?" she recalled sarcastically from the morning's note. "Just what in Yliakum was that thing?" Gathering herself up and squirming her way out of the tangled thicket vines, she moved onward cautiously. Finally reaching the path spotted from high above, she squatted in short tufts of worn grass by its edge. She rubbed at her now thorn scratched thighs, calves, and arms as she looked down the path one way, then the other. Not a solitary person anywhere in sight. "Which way now?", she thought.
To be continued..... maybe
Motivated by the recent stories here from these friends and guild members, Aramara, Onilise, Ixi, Arjaya, Jilata, Miomo, and Caraick, I wanted to take a stab at it myself. Hope you like.
And please don't point out the lame amnesia thing. I know. The storyline was created before I knew much of anything about PS or RP in general, but I'm trying to build on it anyway.
