Erisciana of the House Iltani was disoriented and her entire being felt adrift and ephemeral. One moment she was about to respond to her companion Kaylessa, the elf scout. The elf had cast Magickal Missiles at the same target which Erisci had Held. But the words never left her mouth. In fact, she had felt oddly disconnected even as the words of the arcane spell itself drifted out almost aimlessly. It was an unsettling feeling, as though she had no body. She was just… adrift.
Suddenly her whole being seemed to explode all at once with incredible sensations. Like waking up from the deepest of dreamscapes. Or perhaps it mimicked the feeling that no one remembers of the moment of their birth. It was jarring and incongruous. The moment didn’t really fade. Erisci just became increasingly aware of herself as more of a physical being once again.
The first and strongest sensation was of having energy being drawn explosively from her body. Life force? Or was it being absorbed? The priestess of Ishtar could not tell. Maybe it was both. Energy cascaded all about her, in and out, all around. Ultimately Erisci realized that she could finally see. Until this moment, the experience was just emotional, mental, felt on a spiritual level.
Golden spirals sparkled through the air, trailing pink and blue swirls as they burst in and out of existence. Was it air? What was this? She wasn’t in the forest. She wasn’t near the caravan that Wyvern Squad had ambushed. She was…. Here.
More physical sensations began to overcome her and Erisci was once more aware that she had an actual body. The uncertainty that this may not have been the case a moment ago, left her concerned and just a little frightened. What was happening?!
Erisci was now cognizant of the fact that her body was splayed outward, spread eagle. The energy pulsing was not excruciatingly painful but still she gritted her teeth at the harshness of the experience. The priestess was not arrayed in her armor any longer. Instead she was clothed in a pure white garment. It was unnaturally white. She felt that looking at it might burn out her eyes, like staring unceasingly at the sun. She was not held fast by anything tangible. Not that she could tell anyway, but held fast she still remained. Everything was so disconcerting.
Turning her head felt like it took minutes to complete the action. She saw her left hand. Flexed her fingers with the same mesmerizingly slow response. She gasped for a moment as she tried to determine if she was actually breathing. Was this the afterlife? She couldn’t feel her heartbeat, just the inexorable thrumming of the energy which flitted in and out of her and all around. There was nothing but a glow encompassing her. She felt she could see forever, but yet there was nothing there. Nothing past her outstretched hands. Nothing below her bare feet, floating above an endless plane of luminous nothingness. Erisci started to feel panic begin to grip her emotions, but somehow, she also felt soothed. The dichotomy was difficult for her racing mind to process.
After an indeterminate amount of time, there was the voice. No, not a voice, voices. Many voices. Or rather it was the same voice speaking many times in a cacophonic echo. “ErisciERISCIANAItaltaniIltani EriscianaIltani…” The priestess’ eyes went wide at the sudden sound. “It knows my name,” she thought, worry and curiosity mixing uncomfortably in her mind. Where am I?
“There is a DangerousCalamityCalamityDangercalamitydangerousdanger…” Her eyes flitted about trying to find the source of this voice. These voices? But they were nowhere. Everywhere?
“You have a Destinydestinyyourdestinyyouhaveadestiny…” The golden sparkling swirls made a shape of a lion about her and a blue streak swooped into it and they all dispersed in a burst of gleaming scintillation. Erisciana knew to what this may have partially alluded but there was no time to ask any questions. Was she able to vocalize? She realized that she hadn’t tried yet. The voice was speaking again. Voices?
“BloodredscourgeREDbloodbloodscourgeredblood…” This time the voices did not pause or hesitate. The pulsing energy increased in intensity. Erisci realized she could not just hear the words; she could feel them. Could she see them in her mind’s eye?
“Ebonflamingdeathdeathflamingebondeath…” The last string of echoing words had not yet faded as the next cascaded into being. She closed her eyes under the emotional onslaught. Somehow this didn’t stop even the visual incursion of sensory overload. She wasn’t using her eyes to see?
“Toweringarcaneresurrectionarcenetowerresurrectionarcane….” Suddenly it was quiet again. The pulsating surge of energy that both filled and depleted her being began to fade. Likewise, the swirling sparkles became less intense and fewer of them appeared as they faded to nothingness and were no longer replaced.
The priestess of Ishtar remained essentially immobile, although the pulsing energy which had been so strong was now just a light thrumming. Her head dropped from fatigue. Moments passed, but she could not tell how long she hung there motionless. Her eyes were closed with weariness. Once more this did not prevent her from “seeing”. A misty, almost evanescent figure formed before her. She unconsciously opened her eyes, which didn’t change the view before her. That was once more unsettling and eerie.
A shape like a large paw rose up and loomed before her. She flinched and squinted her eyes, but then only saw the lion head stare at her for long moments. Maybe it was only a second? She couldn’t be sure of time anymore. Finally, it nodded its large billowy head and faded once more like the sparkles and swirls that had previously danced before her eyes. Suddenly Erisci felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut and she collapsed into darkness.
When she became aware again, Erisciana did not know how much time had passed. But she felt somehow different. Displaced? She blinked her eyes. Closed them for a moment and it went dark as it should. At least this was normal now. She shook her head slightly to clear it as she raised herself up. She came to awareness in a room, which looked like a typical inn. Was it vaguely familiar? She had been in the forest when she last remembered, attacking the caravan. Now she was here.
Transitions - Erisciana
Re: Transitions - Erisciana
The priestess of Ishtar sat up from the bed she was lying upon and looked around. Her head throbbed and she shook away the fogginess that lingered. It felt like waking up from a dream within a dream.
“I’m certainly not in Immater,” she said as she took in her surroundings. She froze for a second as she caught herself. “Immater? I am from Zakhara, not Immater.” She searched her memories frantically for a moment as she struggled to determine what was real. “Immater was my home in my dream. Lotan. Dormare. Rovach!” She said this last with a smile as she remembered the paladin of Anu fondly.
“It seemed real. Stephanie. “ She said this last name with a scowl and a sneer. “Captain Tamberlaine. What a boorish lout.” She rubbed her neck lightly as she tried to separate “dream” from reality. “Graystone. Crossroads. Eagles Nest. Lucyus…. And Vardra.” Another scowl. What was going on? And what had been that existential experience just before she awoke?
“Dangerous calamity. Destiny. Blood red scourge. Ebon flaming death. Towering arcane resurrection.” The voices had clamored these words at her while she was suspended in the light. Ominous though they were, there was no coherence to them as yet. A warning perhaps? Something to pray about, she decided.
What was real? She couldn’t trust her memories fully. But it seemed like she should be in Crossroads. The humanoid attack on the caravan. The bandits capturing her and the subsequent escape. Arriving in Pyris and reclaiming her staff and armor. The caravan to Crossroads. These seemed real. She hoped they were. But they were also in her “outer” dream. It was at least similar to her “real” experiences. The “inner dream” diverged in many more ways.
Looking around the room, she could not see any signs of weapon or shield, but her backpack held her armor as expected. She was dressed in her dark blue silk dress. Of course, that was the same in (both?) dreams. Were they dreams? Were they some sort of omens? Why was one in places she had never heard of before? Or did she? “I need to know just where I am,” Erisciana blurted out as she rushed out of her room and down the stairs, nearly knocking over a serving girl in her exuberance to get to the front door.
She rushed outside into a light rainfall and looked around. This was similar to her dream. She looked at the sign on the inn. The Fat Cyclops. “How did I ever end up at such a horrible sounding place?” she said to herself. It was much colder here than on the Shining Coast. That didn’t much bother her though. A benefit of being blessed by two different goddesses. Sisters who each influenced her life. Though certainly her dedication to Ishtar was first and foremost to that of her sister, Isharia.
She looked around and the streets were busy with people. A caravan passed by, although not from her homeland. There seemed to be an excessive number of soldiers about in the streets. Some marched by in small patrols, while others gathered on street corners in pairs or threes. The streets were lined by globes with magickal light emanating from them. They helped light up the rainy skies and made the place seem not so dreary. Ignoring some leering looks from passersby, she stepped back into the inn.
“I’m certainly not in Immater,” she said as she took in her surroundings. She froze for a second as she caught herself. “Immater? I am from Zakhara, not Immater.” She searched her memories frantically for a moment as she struggled to determine what was real. “Immater was my home in my dream. Lotan. Dormare. Rovach!” She said this last with a smile as she remembered the paladin of Anu fondly.
“It seemed real. Stephanie. “ She said this last name with a scowl and a sneer. “Captain Tamberlaine. What a boorish lout.” She rubbed her neck lightly as she tried to separate “dream” from reality. “Graystone. Crossroads. Eagles Nest. Lucyus…. And Vardra.” Another scowl. What was going on? And what had been that existential experience just before she awoke?
“Dangerous calamity. Destiny. Blood red scourge. Ebon flaming death. Towering arcane resurrection.” The voices had clamored these words at her while she was suspended in the light. Ominous though they were, there was no coherence to them as yet. A warning perhaps? Something to pray about, she decided.
What was real? She couldn’t trust her memories fully. But it seemed like she should be in Crossroads. The humanoid attack on the caravan. The bandits capturing her and the subsequent escape. Arriving in Pyris and reclaiming her staff and armor. The caravan to Crossroads. These seemed real. She hoped they were. But they were also in her “outer” dream. It was at least similar to her “real” experiences. The “inner dream” diverged in many more ways.
Looking around the room, she could not see any signs of weapon or shield, but her backpack held her armor as expected. She was dressed in her dark blue silk dress. Of course, that was the same in (both?) dreams. Were they dreams? Were they some sort of omens? Why was one in places she had never heard of before? Or did she? “I need to know just where I am,” Erisciana blurted out as she rushed out of her room and down the stairs, nearly knocking over a serving girl in her exuberance to get to the front door.
She rushed outside into a light rainfall and looked around. This was similar to her dream. She looked at the sign on the inn. The Fat Cyclops. “How did I ever end up at such a horrible sounding place?” she said to herself. It was much colder here than on the Shining Coast. That didn’t much bother her though. A benefit of being blessed by two different goddesses. Sisters who each influenced her life. Though certainly her dedication to Ishtar was first and foremost to that of her sister, Isharia.
She looked around and the streets were busy with people. A caravan passed by, although not from her homeland. There seemed to be an excessive number of soldiers about in the streets. Some marched by in small patrols, while others gathered on street corners in pairs or threes. The streets were lined by globes with magickal light emanating from them. They helped light up the rainy skies and made the place seem not so dreary. Ignoring some leering looks from passersby, she stepped back into the inn.
Re: Transitions - Erisciana
The woman waited somewhat impatiently as she stood in line at the bunkhouse in Crossroads. It had been a difficult trip for her to get here and she was greatly disappointed that circumstances had led her to… this! She shook out her dark curly hair from the light rain that was falling outside and she was careful of her steps so her damp feet did not slip on the stone floor.
Erisciana looked around at the various would-be adventurers that formed multiple lines. She wondered silently why some of them would even be allowed to join up. Perhaps this kingdom was in as bad straits as the stories back in Zakhara had told! She tried not to be too judgmental, but it was her nature. Still she had little choice herself. The bandits in that vile territory known as Elcadan had seen to that. In that moment, she wished her dream within a dream had been more accurate. There she had her jewels, her supplies. And her guards still had their lives. She frowned.
Erisci noticed the looks she received and she heard some of the comments that were spoken under their breath. She smiled at their naivete'. Things never change she thought to herself whether in a dream-world or reality. Now she started to ask herself if this was reality. It seemed so. But so did her very detailed dreams as well.
Eventually the diminutive woman reached the front of her line. The recruiter there looked at her with a disapproving eye. “Are you sure you’re in the right place, young lady?” He eyed her silken dress and silver jewelry, lack of armor, lack of any weapons really. “This recruitment is for the soldiers, not for support staff. You can sign up at the Red Kettle Inn for that.”
Erisciana sighed, then raised one eyebrow at the man and frowned. “I assure you that I am in the correct place,” she said with a bit more than a hint of an accent. She experienced this impertinence before and while it was not unexpected, the priestess was quick to react.
The Zakharan woman put her hands on her hips for a moment defiantly. “Since you didn't learn the first time...Very well…” She then turned to one of the young men in the line behind her. She was fairly certain from listening to their conversation that they really were the ones who should not be there. She was a priestess of Ishtar, Goddess of Love and War!
Taking her holy symbol in her left hand, she gestured widely and raised herself up on her tiptoes. Then she thrust her hands toward the young man, with splayed fingers. A horrible face took over his features and he howled in surprise and fear. Pushing past his comrades, the young man raced out of the building.
Erisciana turned back to the recruiter. “I am Erisciana of the House Iltani and priestess of Ishtar, Goddess of Love… and of War.” The recruiter smiled to his assistant and nodded. The assistant covered his mouth with his hand to avoid laughing. The recruiter looked back at the woman and then began scribbling notes on the paper in front of him. He then pushed another paper in front of her.
“I guess I can see what you can do after all. Sign on the dotted line.”
Erisci scanned the simple document. A soldier. In a foreign army. Oh Ishtar, what have you led me to, she questioned silently. Reluctantly, she scrolled her name onto the page and quickly pushed it back across the table. The man’s assistant offered her a small pouch. She took it, feeling the expected coins inside. This was the bonus that they were offering. It would come in handy for extra gear on the way to Eagle's Nest. At least she assumed that would be their mission.
“Go to the second door from the end,” the man said, indicating the far right of the hall. Erisciana turned away and paused for a moment. She wanted to retch. Despite seeing this before in her mind, this was not what she wished for. This was not what she had planned when Aegos sent her on this “important” mission. It was bad enough what had happened in her family. Bad enough that Zarek and Balathu had caused such mischief and mayhem and effectively exiled her from her homeland. None of that was forgotten, either in dream or reality.
There was little else to do except play the hand she had been dealt, once more. Erisci hoped that Ishtar had some reason for putting her priestess through this awful ordeal. And what was the reason for the repeated visions? Raising her chin and steadying her gaze, she strode purposefully to the door she had been directed and stepped inside.
Erisciana looked around at the various would-be adventurers that formed multiple lines. She wondered silently why some of them would even be allowed to join up. Perhaps this kingdom was in as bad straits as the stories back in Zakhara had told! She tried not to be too judgmental, but it was her nature. Still she had little choice herself. The bandits in that vile territory known as Elcadan had seen to that. In that moment, she wished her dream within a dream had been more accurate. There she had her jewels, her supplies. And her guards still had their lives. She frowned.
Erisci noticed the looks she received and she heard some of the comments that were spoken under their breath. She smiled at their naivete'. Things never change she thought to herself whether in a dream-world or reality. Now she started to ask herself if this was reality. It seemed so. But so did her very detailed dreams as well.
Eventually the diminutive woman reached the front of her line. The recruiter there looked at her with a disapproving eye. “Are you sure you’re in the right place, young lady?” He eyed her silken dress and silver jewelry, lack of armor, lack of any weapons really. “This recruitment is for the soldiers, not for support staff. You can sign up at the Red Kettle Inn for that.”
Erisciana sighed, then raised one eyebrow at the man and frowned. “I assure you that I am in the correct place,” she said with a bit more than a hint of an accent. She experienced this impertinence before and while it was not unexpected, the priestess was quick to react.
The Zakharan woman put her hands on her hips for a moment defiantly. “Since you didn't learn the first time...Very well…” She then turned to one of the young men in the line behind her. She was fairly certain from listening to their conversation that they really were the ones who should not be there. She was a priestess of Ishtar, Goddess of Love and War!
Taking her holy symbol in her left hand, she gestured widely and raised herself up on her tiptoes. Then she thrust her hands toward the young man, with splayed fingers. A horrible face took over his features and he howled in surprise and fear. Pushing past his comrades, the young man raced out of the building.
Erisciana turned back to the recruiter. “I am Erisciana of the House Iltani and priestess of Ishtar, Goddess of Love… and of War.” The recruiter smiled to his assistant and nodded. The assistant covered his mouth with his hand to avoid laughing. The recruiter looked back at the woman and then began scribbling notes on the paper in front of him. He then pushed another paper in front of her.
“I guess I can see what you can do after all. Sign on the dotted line.”
Erisci scanned the simple document. A soldier. In a foreign army. Oh Ishtar, what have you led me to, she questioned silently. Reluctantly, she scrolled her name onto the page and quickly pushed it back across the table. The man’s assistant offered her a small pouch. She took it, feeling the expected coins inside. This was the bonus that they were offering. It would come in handy for extra gear on the way to Eagle's Nest. At least she assumed that would be their mission.
“Go to the second door from the end,” the man said, indicating the far right of the hall. Erisciana turned away and paused for a moment. She wanted to retch. Despite seeing this before in her mind, this was not what she wished for. This was not what she had planned when Aegos sent her on this “important” mission. It was bad enough what had happened in her family. Bad enough that Zarek and Balathu had caused such mischief and mayhem and effectively exiled her from her homeland. None of that was forgotten, either in dream or reality.
There was little else to do except play the hand she had been dealt, once more. Erisci hoped that Ishtar had some reason for putting her priestess through this awful ordeal. And what was the reason for the repeated visions? Raising her chin and steadying her gaze, she strode purposefully to the door she had been directed and stepped inside.
Re: Transitions - Erisciana
To one side of the room stands a young brunette woman. At first glance one might think she is a serving girl, especially given her dress and lack of obvious weapons. The barefoot woman leans against the wall, her arms folded across her midsection. A look of impatience seems to exude from her beautiful, exotic features.
Those who look closer notice that her clothing is certainly not that of a serving girl. Her dark sapphire blue dress looked as though it might be made of silk and has silver embroidery along the plunging neckline and lower edges, cut in an asymmetrical pattern across her thighs, longer on the right than the left. A white multi-corded belt circled her hips and gave form and shape to her garments.
Two silver necklaces hung from her neck, including one that ended in a long blue crystal pendant that almost seemed to irradiate its own light. Exhaling slowly in a long sigh, she ran her fingers through her thick curly dark hair for a moment. Despite being held back by silver hair combs, the length and sheer volume of her ebon curls seemed to almost have a life of their own. The silver bracelets on her wrist jingled musically as she brushed a ringlet of hair from her face.
Looking more closely one can see that the woman has quite a bit of silver jewels. Large silver hoops hung from her ears and peeked through her raven tresses. A thin chain, with small silver disks suspended from it, hung from her hips. Her right nostril was pierced and she wore a snug-fitting nose ring hoop. A few thin silver strands were woven into her ebon locks and flashed as the light caught them. A braided strand over her left eye ended in a bright blue fob.
The slit in her gown reached nearly to her waist, showing off her shapely legs. A pair of wide silver cuffs adorned her dainty ankles and were polished to a brilliant shine which reflected the light with a bright gleam. Other belled anklets rested below these and she wore several plain silver rings on her toes and fingers. She was well-tanned, darker skinned than most Cynalonians. Almost a deep bronze she was, her skin accented by the bright blue of her dress and the lustrous silver jewelry.
Her make-up was detailed, but flawless. Dark eyeliner rimmed her magnificent blue eyes and made her considerable eyelashes stand out even more. The blue on her lids highlighted and accentuated the brightness of her eyes. And the warm pink color on her lips made them seem all the more perfect.
She shifted her position and then turned to look as the next persons entered the room. Erisiciana waited for the dwarf to enter.
Those who look closer notice that her clothing is certainly not that of a serving girl. Her dark sapphire blue dress looked as though it might be made of silk and has silver embroidery along the plunging neckline and lower edges, cut in an asymmetrical pattern across her thighs, longer on the right than the left. A white multi-corded belt circled her hips and gave form and shape to her garments.
Two silver necklaces hung from her neck, including one that ended in a long blue crystal pendant that almost seemed to irradiate its own light. Exhaling slowly in a long sigh, she ran her fingers through her thick curly dark hair for a moment. Despite being held back by silver hair combs, the length and sheer volume of her ebon curls seemed to almost have a life of their own. The silver bracelets on her wrist jingled musically as she brushed a ringlet of hair from her face.
Looking more closely one can see that the woman has quite a bit of silver jewels. Large silver hoops hung from her ears and peeked through her raven tresses. A thin chain, with small silver disks suspended from it, hung from her hips. Her right nostril was pierced and she wore a snug-fitting nose ring hoop. A few thin silver strands were woven into her ebon locks and flashed as the light caught them. A braided strand over her left eye ended in a bright blue fob.
The slit in her gown reached nearly to her waist, showing off her shapely legs. A pair of wide silver cuffs adorned her dainty ankles and were polished to a brilliant shine which reflected the light with a bright gleam. Other belled anklets rested below these and she wore several plain silver rings on her toes and fingers. She was well-tanned, darker skinned than most Cynalonians. Almost a deep bronze she was, her skin accented by the bright blue of her dress and the lustrous silver jewelry.
Her make-up was detailed, but flawless. Dark eyeliner rimmed her magnificent blue eyes and made her considerable eyelashes stand out even more. The blue on her lids highlighted and accentuated the brightness of her eyes. And the warm pink color on her lips made them seem all the more perfect.
She shifted her position and then turned to look as the next persons entered the room. Erisiciana waited for the dwarf to enter.
Re: Transitions - Erisciana
Finally the waiting was broken as the next person entered the gathering room. Sergeant Traken was not the most conversational although he had asked about her background and experience. The sergeant also explained that they were not a normal military squad but rather a special group which would engaging in more difficult and challenging independent tasks. That had been explained to her minimally by the kind lord who helped her in Pyris after her harrowing troubles in Elcadan.
The next person to enter was... not a dwarf. Strange, the priestess thought to herself and she stood straight and uncrossed her arms. More variances. This was somewhat expected, as not everything was as in her "dream". And yet enough was the same or similar that it was definitely disconcerting. Prophecy and omens were always somewhat vague and unclear.
This first arrival was an elf. Quite the opposite of the dwarf Vernar, Erisci thought. Besides being a different race, they seemed as different as could be. Vernar was a well-worn soldier in rough armor and leathers and bristling with weapons. This elf, who introduced himself as Anik, was tall and lean and without armor or weapons of any kind, that could be discerned. And Erisci was always very observant.
But then in walked Flare. Erisci's face erupted in a wide smile at seeing the odd ranger as he tried to hide his bird in his cloak and fumbled about like a drunken fool. Kendall was next. She was also pleased to see the big warrior. "Odd," the priestess thought. "Kendall was part of the Chimera squad that we rescued. Not an original member of the Wyvern squad."
Two previously unknown people were next. Daubney was another armored fighter. A veteran of the army previously. And now a mercenary, it seemed. And then there was Saladino. A foppish rake from the Minrothad Guilds to the south of this kingdom. He talked a lot and Erisci thought he boasted way too much. But if he was half the fighter he claimed to be, they would be well-served by his companionship.
A quiet, slight woman walked in next, and instantly Erisci recognized the priestess of Felix. "Laurel!" she said, more demonstratively than she wanted and the cloaked woman looked at her with a hint of surprise and tried to meld into the crowd without drawing too much attention to herself. "Hmm, one from Wyvern squad, one from Chimera squad and one from Talon Squad," she thought they were called.
Lastly was another well-loved companion, who quickly took over the room with her appearance: Wimzy! The priestess of Ishtar watched the bubbly halfling saunter across the room, the memory of it like a well remembered stage play. From her appearance to her exchange it was as if pulled directly from Erisci's dream. She could only smile as Wimzy went through her routine and leapt onto her claimed bunk. Erisci could mouth the words as they came from the diminutive healer. It would be good to have a powerful healer of Azrella with them on this mission.
A fateful mission perhaps. On to Eagle's Nest she presumed and there would be found death and humanoids galore. Erisci took a deep breath as everyone finished their greetings. Traken stepped forward and also the words were just as remembered.
“Alright, listen up!”, Sergeant Traken calls out getting everyone's attention. “Here's the deal. If you need a place to sleep, you may stay here. If you got rooms in town, you may use those tonight. Regardless of where you sleep, you must be here first thing in the morning. We'll be moving out with several other army units to Fort Graystone tomorrow after breakfast.”
“If there is some gear on the racks that you can make use of, you may take it. If you need something not there, you'll need to pick it up in town on your own gold. Tonight is yours to do as you please. Tomorrow you belong to the army. Enjoy yourselves.” How odd that some things were exactly as she dreamt and others so wildly different. Erisci wasn't sure what to make of it all.
The next person to enter was... not a dwarf. Strange, the priestess thought to herself and she stood straight and uncrossed her arms. More variances. This was somewhat expected, as not everything was as in her "dream". And yet enough was the same or similar that it was definitely disconcerting. Prophecy and omens were always somewhat vague and unclear.
This first arrival was an elf. Quite the opposite of the dwarf Vernar, Erisci thought. Besides being a different race, they seemed as different as could be. Vernar was a well-worn soldier in rough armor and leathers and bristling with weapons. This elf, who introduced himself as Anik, was tall and lean and without armor or weapons of any kind, that could be discerned. And Erisci was always very observant.
But then in walked Flare. Erisci's face erupted in a wide smile at seeing the odd ranger as he tried to hide his bird in his cloak and fumbled about like a drunken fool. Kendall was next. She was also pleased to see the big warrior. "Odd," the priestess thought. "Kendall was part of the Chimera squad that we rescued. Not an original member of the Wyvern squad."
Two previously unknown people were next. Daubney was another armored fighter. A veteran of the army previously. And now a mercenary, it seemed. And then there was Saladino. A foppish rake from the Minrothad Guilds to the south of this kingdom. He talked a lot and Erisci thought he boasted way too much. But if he was half the fighter he claimed to be, they would be well-served by his companionship.
A quiet, slight woman walked in next, and instantly Erisci recognized the priestess of Felix. "Laurel!" she said, more demonstratively than she wanted and the cloaked woman looked at her with a hint of surprise and tried to meld into the crowd without drawing too much attention to herself. "Hmm, one from Wyvern squad, one from Chimera squad and one from Talon Squad," she thought they were called.
Lastly was another well-loved companion, who quickly took over the room with her appearance: Wimzy! The priestess of Ishtar watched the bubbly halfling saunter across the room, the memory of it like a well remembered stage play. From her appearance to her exchange it was as if pulled directly from Erisci's dream. She could only smile as Wimzy went through her routine and leapt onto her claimed bunk. Erisci could mouth the words as they came from the diminutive healer. It would be good to have a powerful healer of Azrella with them on this mission.
A fateful mission perhaps. On to Eagle's Nest she presumed and there would be found death and humanoids galore. Erisci took a deep breath as everyone finished their greetings. Traken stepped forward and also the words were just as remembered.
“Alright, listen up!”, Sergeant Traken calls out getting everyone's attention. “Here's the deal. If you need a place to sleep, you may stay here. If you got rooms in town, you may use those tonight. Regardless of where you sleep, you must be here first thing in the morning. We'll be moving out with several other army units to Fort Graystone tomorrow after breakfast.”
“If there is some gear on the racks that you can make use of, you may take it. If you need something not there, you'll need to pick it up in town on your own gold. Tonight is yours to do as you please. Tomorrow you belong to the army. Enjoy yourselves.” How odd that some things were exactly as she dreamt and others so wildly different. Erisci wasn't sure what to make of it all.