<center><font face="Times New Roman"><font size=5><font color=darkgray>A Mourning Star</font></font>

<font color=silver>"Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream."</font>

<font color=darkgray>Excerpt from "A Dream Within A Dream"
Edgar Allan Poe</font>

<font color=DDDDDD>...They have spent years wandering this world, seeking their destiny or trying to avoid it. Now it draws near. Each of them is different, emerging from the tangles of their past to be seen and judged by all the others. Some will hide their scars, others will inflict new ones. Some will know and others will hope. Eyes will flicker like flame across their trials, their surroundings, and their company...
They will live. They will die. They will find their fate.</font>

</center><font color=darkgray>[*]This game is invitation only.[*]This game is utterly free-form.[*]This game is going to rock.

Let's do it!</font></font>

<font color=white>As she made her way through the crowded streets of Athklata, she could sense the curious eyes of the passers-by drilling holes into her back.

It's only to be expected.

Her long white robes swept the ground as she turned around, catching the surprised looks on her little audience ~ Teacher would have just grunted and walked off. ~ The thought brought a tiny smile to her small lips ~ And he would grunt at you too, if you continued to keep thinking of him the way you do...

A strong breeze sent her flowing black hair swishing, save for the tiny braids twirled with long white ribbons ~ Now where did we go, the last time... the One-Eyed Wolf, wasn't it?

Abruptly, she turned again and began to scrutinise the shop names one by one, at a leisurely pace...</font>

<font color=darkgray>Irinisayn gave a quick tug to the edges of her cloak, keeping the garment protectively tight to her shoulders. Every eye that washed over her felt like an icy needle to her mind. She readjusted her hood as well, hiding the small horns atop her head. This was Athkatla, a greatly tolerant city... For anybody with coin. She shot a short glance to the near empty pouch on her hip. At this rate she'd barely be able to afford a meal, much less acceptance.

I will have to find someplace to duck into. These streets set my flesh afire.

So her eyes began grazing the signs on either side of the street, seeking a temporary haven. Any old tavern should do.</font>

[ 01-10-2004, 12:32 PM: Message edited by: Killing Spree ]

<font color=white>It had been so many years since they last came, that after a while, she began to have doubts ~ A city as rich and bustling as this... surely there is more than a slim chance of shops being torn down, and new ones springing up all over the place. ~ The whisperings behind her continued, but she steadfastly advanced, darting glances about to check out the landmarks.

The little bridge... ~ Here, she stopped briefly, to peer down at the brightly hued fish ~ ... Temple of Mystra... ~ Her heart was thumping faster now, for some strange - nay, silly reason ~ Yes, there it is! ~ Her lips parted in a rapturous smile, then pressed together as she took a deep breath to recompose herself.

But to everyone that she brushed against, as she made her way towards the rustic tavern, it was obvious that she had found her little heaven within this prosperous, yet treacherous city.</font>

http://server5.uploadit.org/files2/070104-XLN.bmp

[ 01-10-2004, 12:44 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkgray>The unfamiliar sensations of the city flew past as she weaved her way carefully through the crowds, making a point not to touch anything or anybody. As she quickened the pace her two-bladed sword thumped against her back, reminding her of its presence. It was somehow very comforting.

She continued to navigate, ignoring the multitude of things she knew she'd see again. She didn't even bother taking note of the streets she chose, she just wanted out. Needles pricked the back of her neck and an inaudible hiss seethed forth from her throat. Frustrating, idiot humans. The desire to kill every breathing thing she saw began to claw at her heart. She persisted toward her goal, she could hear the bustle of a tavern nearby.

Her eyes shot to the sign above the doorway. The One-Eyed Wolf, how quaint. At this point she didn't care. She swooped through the door and found the nearest alienated seat. She was slightly out of breath as she tried to reclaim the missing shards of her control.</font>

<font color=white>As she tucked her skirts neatly behind and seated herself at a corner of the tavern, she eyed the barkeeper somewhat suspiciously as he plopped a large mug of ale in front of her.

"This... isn't the Moondog Grog, is it?" ~ Her clear, stern tone brought a rush of colour to the man as he began to protest, stammering a little.

"Good." ~ And she smiled her dismissal, turning her attention to the sudden arrival in the tavern.

A hooded character, seemingly restless and a little out of its humour, probably ~ Better to keep a distance for now.</font>

<font color=darkgray>As she was regaining the last of her composure, Irinisayn was approached by a handsome young half-elf. He bit his lower lip as he came closer, uncertaintly apparent in his aquamarine eyes. She inhaled deeply and watched him from underneath the shadows of her hood. She could feel the muscles in her shoulders slacken and the corners of her lips twitch upward. Well isn't he cute.

The half-elf was Zared Tahl'las Leafblade, youngest son of the owners of the tavern. He was barely sixteen, tall like his father, and gangly, with whisps of facial hair and big dark eyes. He stammered when he reached her side, a slight squeak to his voice as he began his sentence.

"C-can I get you something, ma'am?"

Quite amused, Irinisayn pulled off her gold pouch and emptied its contents into her palm. She divided out out a small fraction of the currency with her fingers and held it out to the boy.

"What can this get me?"

Zared examined the money and replied, "Uhhh, well... Any drink you like, really, ma'am."

She gave a small chuckle of approval as she handed him the gold, saying, "Get me whatever you like to drink."

The boy nodded hurredly and dashed off toward the bar, the wood floor squeaking under his boots. Irinisayn winced.</font>

[ 01-10-2004, 01:30 PM: Message edited by: Killing Spree ]

<font color=skyblue>Markul

A man walked into the bar named the One-Eyed Wolf, and took a seat alone at a table. He waited for an attendant to see to his wishes, and then lazily surveyed the room and the people found within. He was an average-looking guy..not one that would draw attention with his looks, and seemed to be of common-folk standing.

He had the air of the sea with him, which betrayed his route in coming here, for the docks were but a carriage ride away of about 20 minutes, and a ship had been docked in the harbor for less than an hour from the Western countries. Yet Markul did not have the appearance nor the accent of a Westernese. In fact...it proved difficult for anyone that had been taking survey of him when he entered of exactly where he was from. He just seemed to be a normal guy of no consequence nor bother to anybody. He smiled politely at the waitress as she brought him a huge meal that seemed a bit more costly than this man looked like he would have the ability to pay for. Yet this did not hinder his appetite, and he began eating with a surprising vigor.</font>

</font>

<font color=darkgray>Zared returned with her drink shortly and she thanked him warmly, though her nod was a bit stiff. He stepped back and watched her take her first sip, which she savored before cracking a small smile. Apple cider, what a little pinprick.

"Very good, that will be all for now."

The half-elf then left her to her drink and she took the opportunity to survey the tavern. A couple of other half-elves she was sure were related to her waiter were scampering around, as well as some hired staff. The establishment was relatively busy, but nothing in comparison to the wretched enovironment of the streets. A shiver tweaked down her spine as she took another sip. She'd overexposed herself today, gotten too close to snapping and letting her demonic side loose. And that certainly wouldn't be good...

She then eyed the room for more interesting inhabitants. She spied a beautiful robed woman at the bar, a plain looking man gorging himself at a lonely table, and a small, sleek black wolf nipping playfully at her waiter's heels. The boy cried, "Bah, Maverick, leave me alone! It's not dinner time yet!"</font>

<font color=skyblue>Markul

Markul ate in a hurry. He was also very thirsty from his voyage in the salty air, and had reordered drinks thrice. Always fruit-based sweet drinks, made with milk. His meal was done yet this meager fellow seemed to still have room for dessert. It was ordered, with a look of astonishment from the waitress who had never seen a human engorge so much, and keep it all down.
Finally, and to the expectancy of the onlookers that had begun taking bets on this guy...the common-looking human stood up and found the bathroom. </font>