Post by Myralthrine Host on Jan 25, 2018 20:52:41 GMT
Dwarves, elves, and humans oh my. The world was full of fascinating creatures and mixes between the two. Blood quartered and drawn and tossed about to where it made but little sense in how humanoid creatures were able to come together in strange and exciting ways. Myra had dreamed about seeing more outside the walls of the school that would lead her to new depths in her research. Carrying her journal on her at all times it was filled with drawings and schematics of the human kind. Not to say there were not ones of dwarves and elves in there as well but they were less common.
The grasslands were vast and wide mainly filled with farms and with paths that were beginning to be grown over. The passage of carriage and foot kept some of the grass matted down and it also pointed to where the main cities were. When Myra stood on the edge of the vast lands it excited her. The world was so much larger than she had ever anticipated. Every step was a step in the right direction until she was lost again and wandering through the field of a farmer who invited her in for the night. His wife was kind enough and they offered all they had but she could not help but notice the cough that the woman attempted to hide and the warmth on her skin when she leaned over her.
In the middle of the night she attended to the woman while they were both asleep. Feeling her forehead the heat coming off was of a fever she knew she had felt for some time. Relieving her of the fever she pulled the energy from the woman as she had traveling to do the next day. She left before either could wake. The morning would come and the farmer would rise and the wife she would feel exhausted but her fever had broken.
Following the path again having received new directions she would come to an Inn that most travelers took to as a way point. A tavern with the sign ‘Rosewood’ outside the wood was painted with a single red rose. Its hinges swung as the wind grabbed hold of it. The tavern itself was large a few homes residing around it as well as a smithy, an open market, and a mill that ran off of a stream the rolling wheel creaking and providing most of the noise in the town if one came in at night. The tavern was set up as one usually was with two stories, the first with tables and bar and the kitchen, the second with rooms for board and rent and a private meeting room that could be rented.
The jingle of coin in her pocket and the calling of the rumbling in her stomach had her going in. Settling in next to the fire the world was cooling down in the later seasons and she was not dressed as warmly as she should have been. Her cloak was a thin cotton with openings for her arms to come through. Her dress was the same material. A deep brown with a simple white apron that really wasn’t much white anymore the bottom tinged red and pink. Her sleeves were long and her neckline modest scooping around her collarbones. Her deep brown tresses were allowed to flow down freely in gentle curls that surrounded her face.
Scooting her seat along the wooden floor so her side was close to the fire and the table was in front of her she was between the door and the bar. Her hands outstretched beside her as she clenched and unclenched her fingers driving warmth back into the long digits.
The grasslands were vast and wide mainly filled with farms and with paths that were beginning to be grown over. The passage of carriage and foot kept some of the grass matted down and it also pointed to where the main cities were. When Myra stood on the edge of the vast lands it excited her. The world was so much larger than she had ever anticipated. Every step was a step in the right direction until she was lost again and wandering through the field of a farmer who invited her in for the night. His wife was kind enough and they offered all they had but she could not help but notice the cough that the woman attempted to hide and the warmth on her skin when she leaned over her.
In the middle of the night she attended to the woman while they were both asleep. Feeling her forehead the heat coming off was of a fever she knew she had felt for some time. Relieving her of the fever she pulled the energy from the woman as she had traveling to do the next day. She left before either could wake. The morning would come and the farmer would rise and the wife she would feel exhausted but her fever had broken.
Following the path again having received new directions she would come to an Inn that most travelers took to as a way point. A tavern with the sign ‘Rosewood’ outside the wood was painted with a single red rose. Its hinges swung as the wind grabbed hold of it. The tavern itself was large a few homes residing around it as well as a smithy, an open market, and a mill that ran off of a stream the rolling wheel creaking and providing most of the noise in the town if one came in at night. The tavern was set up as one usually was with two stories, the first with tables and bar and the kitchen, the second with rooms for board and rent and a private meeting room that could be rented.
The jingle of coin in her pocket and the calling of the rumbling in her stomach had her going in. Settling in next to the fire the world was cooling down in the later seasons and she was not dressed as warmly as she should have been. Her cloak was a thin cotton with openings for her arms to come through. Her dress was the same material. A deep brown with a simple white apron that really wasn’t much white anymore the bottom tinged red and pink. Her sleeves were long and her neckline modest scooping around her collarbones. Her deep brown tresses were allowed to flow down freely in gentle curls that surrounded her face.
Scooting her seat along the wooden floor so her side was close to the fire and the table was in front of her she was between the door and the bar. Her hands outstretched beside her as she clenched and unclenched her fingers driving warmth back into the long digits.
