Jan 20 13:44:57 109 PA - Recovering Objects from the Original Village
From Chronicles
Jan 20 13:44:57 109 PA.
VILLAGE OF VISORNERA - 175 Miles North of Kingsdale
The small village of Visornera finds itself in a relatively peaceful moment of winter. Cloud cover and large blowing flakes are the worst weather for the moment, though much of the countryside remains in nearly hip-deep snow. The village is a very simple place. Its buildings are simple wooden scaffolding over which pelts and furs have been lain, somewhat like North American yurts. It is more-or-less ovoid, with a central area designated only by a few flagstones. The remaining area is grass and dirt, or would be if it wasn't covered with snow. At this hour there are perhaps two-hundred men, women and children going about chores and morning work, from cooking to milking cows to getting ready to do whatever it is that they do for a living here. Rubidia's sudden appearance as a burst of light is perhaps not surprisingly rather unsettling, sending the adults to reach into the flap entrances to their homes, retrieving rifles and knives. Nothing good ever comes from sudden flashes of light.
Rubidia is something good that comes from flashes of light. She doesn’t keep lit at the moment though, making it a brief flash that leaves her in its wake. Caution and weapon grabbing is understandable and expected. To counter she makes herself more approachable by pulling back her armor's hood and placing her bow on the ground before her. "Good morning!" She greets cheerily over her armor's speakers, cranking the volume to deliver her trained voice to maximum effect. Good looking, good sounding. Now she just needs the benefit of the doubt.
A low murmur of 'good morning' follows. In Faerie speak, but with odd tones. No one makes any motion toward the girl who has just appeared. No one looks happy, but neither are they pointing weapons or advancing with knives. Even the children have run to their mothers' aprons.
Rubidia blinks a moment as the reply comes back in gobbley. Clearly they understand English though so she hesitates to speak through her translator. This makes her task a bit harder though as it underlines her need to be very clear. "Alright, I can understand why you're all shy and bashful. Just moved in to a new place and already you got a superstar visiting. Completely understandable that you have no idea what to make of me, whether you know of me or not. So to make this easier is there perhaps and elder or leader I should speak to that would ease my introduction?" She states first in English, then switches to her translator to repeat in gobbley.
Sudden, unexpected public speaking performance is not always the best way to attract friends. As Rubidia speaks, a number of men do start to advance. Not quite threatening, but making their presence known. The way they walk is heavy. A group of a dozen healthy adults stops about ten yards from the woman who materialized only moments ago. One of them speaks, though there is nothing about him otherwise that says 'leader.' His language continues in Faerie speak. << If you are here for peace, you are welcome to stay. But we suffer no leaders here, as none are to be better known than any other. This is the equality of nature that we respect. You may be a superstar in your home - but here, you are a stranger. >> The tones come out somewhat stilted and with authority, but not confrontational. << You have business here? Not many do. >>
Rubidia shrugs at the correction, not looking intimidated. "Yes of course, didn’t think you knew of me, I don’t perform in gobbley. But never hurts to check. Anyway my business here is minor, and may not turn up anything. I'm aware you are the new residents of this village. I actually came looking for ones who lived here before. Apparently they got taken by slavers. Which I'd like to warn you about as well, red sun over the breast, bad people." She starts to explain with her focus on the man who spoke to her but then spreading it evenly among the others.
The man listens, as do the other men. Very bulky men, some of them. Even some of the women. Perhaps they're simply waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Rubidia nods as no one has any questions about the slavers and moves on. "So what I came here for is I was hoping there might be something that the people who lived here before left behind. Anything really, doesn’t have to be of any value, the more sentimental the object the better. And knowing this might be a bit of an inconvenience to you to give up or search for such things I'll offer 100 credits for up to ten items. Even if it's not even worth one credit. Or if you want I could bring you comparable goods from the city. Farming tools, arrows, spears, if you prefer." She offers, her gaze continuing to distribute itself.
A low rumbling chuckle starts among the gathered men. << We don't need anything, thank you. We're quite safe and self-sufficient. I don't know if anyone has anything left. It's not really in our habit to scavenge and keep. This place was very empty. Perhaps if you asked around, would be better than a public announcement. No one here is better than the other, and while we live and work happily as a collective... we do not generally interfere in people's private possessions or matters. >> He looks to the other men gathered - some of them still chuckling - and they seem to trade a general agreement on something. He returns with, << As long as you bring no harm, you're welcome to speak with whomever is willing to speak with you. >> That said, the little greeting band starts to dissolve, and the village goes back toward its daily business.
Rubidia nods again as she is left to do her thing. She carefully collects her bow and slings it on her shoulder as she looks around to consider where to begin. To aid her she opens her mind to the general feelings of those around her so she can avoid those that are clearly scared of a stranger such as herself. She starts walking around the village, looking for a hint of curiosity, and anything that she might find herself.
Suspicious and distrustful, perhaps, but the only feelings of fear at all come only from the small children who are have already telegraphed their feelings by hiding behind aprons. Everyone else? 'Careful and confident' would be a good descriptor. The yurts vary little from one to the next. Only slightly in size, appearance changing only due to the necessary randomness of their fur and pelt walls. The adults go about their business, with really only the children - those ten and younger - showing interest in the stranger. However, as it has only been minutes since Rubidia's flashy arrival, only a handful of them have even taken a few steps from their mothers.
Rubidia takes her time walking around, spending a good half hour touring the village and taking in everything for consideration. Keeping her mind open the entire time as well to try and get a good impression most 'careful confident' area. There she will knock softly and say "Excuse me?" In hopes for an audience.
Knocking is more of a flop-flop-floping on a prepared skin, unless one knows where the wooden bracing is. Thankfully, it's unnecessary, as there is a woman in front nursing the few vegetables that will grow in a winter garden. Her feelings are exactly as sought out - and those of the little girl next to her, equally obvious. << Yes? >> It's a clear but peaceful tone with a hint of something deep behind it. Obviously the people of this village put a premium on words.
"Hello miss. I'm hoping you might be able to help me. And maybe I might do something to help you in return. At least I would like to, if you would let me. I'm here looking for any traces of the people who lived here before you. You feel like a strong person, a strong heart, like you might be able to sway others to help as well." Rubidia explains, her voice soft and sincere.
The woman chuckles. Perhaps at the content of the address, perhaps for being addressed as 'miss' when she clearly has a child of her own. Nevertheless, she is polite and in good spirits. << I don't have a strong heart, I can guarantee that. But I wouldn't expect that anyone would listen to me organize people to go through their belongings. Perhaps if you could narrow down what you're looking for? >> She smiles - odd and clunky, but a smile. << Besides, people like physical contact and the personal thought! >> She leans forward, being at least as tall as the performer. << Particularly when they may feel as if they're being considered to be people, more than intelligent cattle. >>
Rubidia snickers softly with a nod. "Well maybe you don’t think so, but I do. I really don’t know much about what was here before. All I know is it was a village with good healers and rare magic, mostly if not all elves. Maybe the best way to narrow it down would be to understand how it was when you came? I imagine the huts are your own. Where there any structures or remains of structures standing when you people arrived?"
The woman smiles, and puts her hands inside her opposite sleeves, a little girl, perhaps four or five clinging to her left side - interested, but wary. << There wasn't much left when we arrived. It was mostly just the clearing. >> Her eyes pivot with machine-like precision to indicate the village. << I'm sure that some people managed to salvage some wood, maybe turned it into part of the yurt, a little statue? These people - slavers - they were very thorough. At least, that's what I know. My daughter found this dress. It's simple, but it's still good for a little girl. Perhaps others have.. others? >> Her daughter sneaks back a few inches when the mention of her existence comes up.
Rubidia's expression brightens notably at the mention of the dress. It takes some measure of will for Rubidia not to gaze at it but she manages, keeping her focus on the older woman. "Is it hers to give if she wishes?" She asks simply.
The woman looks down. << Yes. But only if she wishes to never have a change of clothes. Iyana is probably smarter than that. >> A look of pride crosses the woman's face. << May I ask? What is it that you're looking for? You're not here to scavenge for old goods and re-sell them. >>
Rubidia shakes her head. "No no, my partner, she has a mental aptitude that allows her to read objects, to find out things about their previous owners. We are hoping to find such an object so we can track the slavers, and free the elves they captured." She explains to the woman before kneeling down to turn her focus on the girl, switching to the translator. << And she wouldn’t have to worry about lack of outfits. I'll get her a dozen new dresses better than that one if she so wishes. Or maybe she'd take a doll or sparkly ring instead of a few dresses. If she is interested. Might you be? Maybe a story as well? >>
Iyana is a bit bashful, blushing at first. Then jumps at Rubidia to toss her arms around, saying that she can have it, but she wants it back. And the other dresses would be nice too! It's her favorite dress, she makes that quite clear. Little girl also has a hug that could crush a boulder into powder.
Rubidia smiles widely. << And I see you have a strong heart as well. Which suits you, that’s what the heroine had in my story. See long ago there was a peaceful village, knowing nothing of hate or sorrow, they had much good fortune and lent it to others. But evil is always present in the world, one day evil men came to the village and swept it away like dust to the wind. All hope seemed to be lost, but a single woman escaped the bad men and went in search of help. She was strong to, gave everything she had to find help and ensure it would find her people. She gave her life for that. And help was found, a healer and a lady of light took up the woman's quest. The lady of light can travel very far and very fast, so she searched the land for clues to lead her to the elves. But she couldn’t find anything until she met a strong and generous little girl. A little girl wise beyond her years, who understood, even though it's her favorite dress, it could save a lot of people if she gave it up for just a week. And maybe, maybe even more. Children are always the best a finding things. Maybe the little girl knows other children who have found things that might help the lady of light? >>
The little girl is very interested to hear the story, her death-grip released as she listens. And listens. Story goes on. Iyana gets slightly distracted. It's not easy to hold the attention of small kids all the time. But she does offer her dress again - but demands that Rubidia cross her heart and hope to die if she doesn't bring it back, << Before eighteen-hundred hours five days from now, it's exactly eleven-hundred twenty-two point five hours right now so you have four-hundred and fifty-five thousand, eight-hundred and fifty seconds to bring it back. >> That's quite specific for a little girl, but she doesn't seem to notice. Her mother smiles, and then the little girl points east. << Ceeny's mommy has something, I think. >>
Rubidia nods encouragingly. << Cross my heart, hope to die, pinky swear that I will bring that dress back if its the last thing I do. >> She confirms, offering her pinky for the vow before continuing. << Well then I'd love to meet them both and see if they are heroes in the story too. Could you perhaps introduce us? >> Rubidia asks, rising back up to offer her hand to the little girl for her to lead the way. << And what are your favorite colors for your dresses? >>
Iyana seems pleased, offers the return pinky swear - a strong tug - and shows that the dress is just a simple tie. Its green fabric will come right off, when it's time to hand it over. The offered hand is accepted and possibly crushed beneath her fingers. Not that the little girl seems to notice. She skips off presumably toward Ceeny's house. << *All* colors are pretty, but I like six-hundred and fifty nanometers, five-hundred and ten nanometers and four-hundred and seventy-five nanometer colors the best! >> It isn't long before a few yurts have passed, and Iyana stops without comment. There's no one immediately apparent here, but the little girl doesn't run off.
"Ow.." Rubidia whimpers under the girl's extraordinary grip, showing clear discomfort. << A little gentler please Iyana, the lady of light, or Rubidia, is a delicate person. >> She explains as she follows to Ceeny's yurt. Reaching she knocks again. << Excuse me? >>
- floofyfloofy* Knocking on a loose fabric is a quiet affair. Rubidia's voice is what gets someone's attention. Another woman of extremely identical build and body structure opens the flap and walks out. << Yes? >> Then a smile directed downward. << Hello, Iyana. You brought a friend? >>
<< Hello there. >> Rubidia greets cheerily with a nod between the woman and Iyana. << I'm Rubidia. Are you Ceeny's mom? Iyana here said you might have something I'm looking for. Something that belonged to the elves that lived here before? >>
<< Oh, yes. They were very strong healers. Sad story. Yes, Ceeny is my daughter, and has a mouth wider than her wisdom, but that's to be expected with a little girl, isn't it? >> She calls for Ceeny, and the little girl comes out to giggle with Iyana, two little girls very much alike in shape and size. << I don't know if I really have anything that belongs to them. Doesn't exactly seem right to keep the items belonging to a someone and call it yours. I have something made *out* of something that belongs to one of them. Is that close enough? >> Perhaps she recognizes the distinction between 'belongs to' a living but missing person versus 'belonged to' a dead person. Or a person presumed dead.
Rubidia looks unsure. << I really wouldn’t know. Could I borrow the item for a few days to find out for sure? It is my partner Sage who will do the reading, I have to take the items back to her for the answer. >> She explains.
The woman nods and retreats back into the yurt. Some rustling sounds can be heard, perhaps drawers opening and closing. A minute later she returns and hands across a long-handled wooden spoon. << It was a broken stool's leg when we got here. My husband carved it into something that we could use. But I do use it, so I would like to have it back soon. >> Much like Iyana, she offers a very precise time frame given in seconds, a little over a week from now. << Do you know who they were? >>
Rubidia shakes her head. << I never met them no, but from what I've heard they were a very noble people, healers who would help others without hesitation. Hopefully through your and Iyana's help though I will meet them, and free them to make a new home. >> She says with some certainty. << Thank you for lending this, I should be back in a few days with it. Would you like me to being you anything in return? >>
A shake of the head followed by a smile indicates that the woman requires nothing further than the simple return of her spoon. << Yes, they were very powerful, very special. Mages, psychic healers. They also worked with machines; they were quite adept. Always peaceful, of course. Despite what they knew of mixing organic with inorganic, they would rarely even utter a harsh word. >>
Rubidia raises a brow at that bit of information. << So you knew them? >> She asks, not sure just what to make of the revelation so she opens her mind to the woman to get a glimpse of her thoughts and feelings.
<< Goodness, I guess Ceely isn't the only one with a wide mouth? >> The woman smirks at herself. << We knew them, long ago. Decades ago. All of us were very sick, even Ceely and little Iyana. They helped us, as they would help anyone in need. >>
Rubidia nods and gives a confident smile. << Well if they are still on this world I will find them, maybe even if they are on another world. There is no where light can't reach. >> She promises, reaching to take the spoon. << Thank you. >> And then she turns to Iyana. << Back to your place for a change of clothes little miss hero? >> She asks.
<< Okay! Come on, Ceely! >> The little girls take a brace of Rubidia, one on each hand. Iyana remembered to be gentle. Ceely has the same crushing grip that her playmate has. A few skips later, and a few minutes later, Iyana comes out of her yurt as naked as the day she was born, and apparently not even phased by the cold as she happily holds out the promised dress. When you're young, clothing is something not always noticed. Her mother notices, of course, and covers her with her apron. << Little girls, >> she says, as if that explains it all.
Rubidia grins with a faint blush, remembering her own days of running through the woods naked as a jaybird. << Completely understandable. Thanks again. I'll be back in a few days. >> She bids with both items in hand. Then in a bright flash of light, she is gone.
