[Open] [Open to 1] A New Arrival in Town

[Beatrixia]

Loshis 1, 2720

A loud grunt filled the air, as her dark brown eyes fluttered open, the sailor's boot leaving her stomach as he turned to walk away, "We're 'ere. Gerroff mah ship." Curled up in the pain around her stomach, Beatrixia took in the sky overhead. The sun was rising, filling the sky with pinks and oranges. She smiled, it was going to be a good day, she knew it, the Mona of the world was telling her, in its own way. She had been told that the Mona didn't communicate back to her people, or any people at all. But she knew better, no matter what anyone else said.

She placed her palm on the boards of the river ship, and pushed herself upright, reaching up to grab the slippery rail of the ship, pulling herself to standing. The captain had never made his disdain for her kind hidden, and she appreciated that about him. Open and honest. That and his magnificent beard, brown and peppered with grey, wild and unruly. Like an untouched forest. He had let her on his ship to travel here, and that was all she needed. A few kicks here, some lovely new insults there, it was all part of what came with meeting new people. Not everything could be cheery and lovely. She was thankful for this captain.

As she watched him light his pipe, she smiled weakly at him, before turning away, the smile growing devilishly. She listened carefully, heard him sucking in the air to stock the flame, to ensure a good light. Once he had it going, she began speaking softly over the river as they neared Vienda. She spoke to the Mona in the winds, asking that they Darken the light source that was the man's lit pipe. And she waited a moment, praying that the winds were feeling as mischievous as herself.

She turned back toward the captain and crew, watching them go about the preparations for docking at the upcoming river port. And the smoke from the pipe kept rolling. She kept a stoic smile up, but inside she was disappointed. It seemed to have fizzled out. Maybe the winds weren't up for morning shenanigans.

She stooped down, grabbing her pack and hefting it onto her shoulders. Well, she wasn't going to let a failed spell get her down. The Mona had already showed her today would be a good day, and she was not about to be convinced otherwise. She saw many other ships coming and going at the upcoming docks, smiling bright as that new experience wash of emotion took her over. It was the best feeling in the world.

As the ship docked, and the gangplank was lowered, she walked over toward it. She stopped by the captain, smiling up at him and his wonderful beard, "Thank you for providing me safe passage. I hope the winds continue to blow true for you." She stepped toward the gangplank, then stepped back toward the captain, one hand up, as though she forgot something. The captain had started forward, and the two bumped into one another. As they did, her other hand slipped two fingers into a pouch hanging from his belt. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry." She backed up, the thieving hand slipping into a pocket, "Do you know any good places to eat here? I'm starving."

He grunted, pointed off in the direction, "That's Hollow Street. Ya can find food your kind like there." She smiled at him and nodded, patting his chest with her raised hand. She turned and descended the gangplank. She walked along the docks, and around the corner onto Hollow Street, and only then she pulled her hand out of her pocket. She sighed as she looked at it. She had plucked a small amount of tobacco from his pouch. Oh well, she could learn to enjoy smoking. But she'd need a pipe.

She pocketed the tobacco, and walked up to the first person that she caught looking at her, a wide smile on her face. "Hello! Do you know where I could get a smoking pipe?"

[Khy Marah]

Loshis 20th, 2720
VIENDA | MORNING

Vienda’s Hollow Street was probably the last place Khy would have decided to sit herself this bright Loshis morning, knowing that these types of clear crisp mornings were perfect for bringing in a brace of garmon or even searching for a shedding stag, but in her current profession there were no choices in her days. Eyes and ears were ever on the watch for signs of Jon Serro, for an inkling of his whereabouts to share with Alyssa. Everyday they dug a little harder, a little deeper. The Wisp knew he was alive, she’d lured Azmus into a trap to reveal their leaders where abouts—and it had backfired awfully. Now, the High Judge and the Resistance played a careful balancing game, both with full hands on the rook board. It was a stalemate, until one of them found something that gave them the edge.

And so, like any of her companions, the witch found herself watching. And waiting.

Hollow Street wasn’t known for it’s hustle and bustle, but it was often at times a good place for a keen ear to hear whisperings of things. A wick could find herself a comfortable out of the way spot on a street corner or doorway to set up and restring her bow. Or to fletch an arrow, ears listening to all around her even if eyes were not on the people.

She’d felt the woman approaching even before she heard her, glamour brushing against her with the remaining citrus taste of a failed spell. Her own aura was unfettered, though she drew it back a little at the touch, aware that some folks reacted funny to hers. It was thick, like molasses, and rich with her carefree attitude.

"Hello! Do you know where I could get a smoking pipe?"

Dual colored eyes looked up at the woman, an arrow in one hand as she wrapped the feathered end in a wet leather strip.

“Oes, though depends on what ye smokin’ as t’ what pipe, ye chen? Ye ent wanna waste a mana pina o’ spur in a benny macha thing. An’ ye wouldn’t want th’ reverse either.” Finishing the wrap, the red head slipped the arrow into her quiver, pointed end down, standing smoothly and brushing street dirt off her long beige colored dress. She adjusted the long tan colored knitted cardigan that hung loosely from her shoulders, bow tucked into the holster across her back where her quill also sat. Beaded necklaces of varying lengths slung themselves across her chest where the V of her dress bared it, and a woven leather belt hung lazily over her hips. Approaching the other woman, Khy’Marah eyed the tobacco in her hand, gesturing with a soft clatter of wooden bracelets to indicate she would like to smell the dried leaves.

“If it’s Mugrobi blend, well tha’ stuff is olio than a boch’s erse. Ye don’ wan’ t’ be wastin’ it in jus’ any ol’ pipe, oes?” She smiled, wide and welcoming, tucking the last of her gear into a travel bag and waiting to see whether the stranger would let her smell the weed or bid her farewell, long tresses brushed smooth and loose down her back this day.

[Beatrixia]

Beatrixia felt the woman withdraw her own glamour, though she herself hadn't even considered such an action. She never consciously manipulated her field, letting it flow free and wild as it might, wispy and smoky and excitable. She smiled at the fellow witch, curious about the field that seemed so similar yet so opposite her own.

And as that accent rolled off her tongue, Beatrixia relaxed even further. She always felt more comfortable with people with strong accents. They, in her limited experience, were always more open and honest than those that hid their accents. Although she did lose herself in the peaks and lilts of the voice that she was slow to realize she didn't know some of the words that had been spoken to her.

Curious eyes watched the redhead as she quivered her arrow and stood up, coming closer. She had a wild look about her, in the best of ways, and as she came closer to examine the tobacco, Beatrixia's field crashed against the woman's, a pleasant smelling smoke blown directly into one's face. She raised her hand up to allow the woman to inspect the leaves, her own cloak fluttering open, revealing the garb she'd worn while traveling with the sailors. Her shirt was of loose linen, a soft v-neck, cream in color, and thread bare, showing the swirls of tattoos upon her chest and stomach easily, and her trousers were of old canvas, from a worn out sail, ending in a pair of well worn leather boots. It wasn't one of her showier outfits, but she didn't mind. She felt she'd fit the role while she was on the ship traveling here, but it was time to find her new attire for the area.

Smiling back at the woman, "I'm a bit hopeless when it comes to tobacco, a sailor gave me this as a parting present. He was kind to me, so I would hate to waste it on a crap pipe. I think his normal route runs from Thul Ka to Florne, where he's heading next I think."

Beatrixia continued to eye up the woman, finding her look to be more and more fetching the longer she looked her over. And then she remembered her own manners, It was time for a new name for a new town. "I'm Xia, and I'm so glad to have met you!"



"Dialogue goes here."