Like a Leaf on the Wind

[Win Sabre]

Before noon, Win and Angren found themselves in the middle of Main Street in the heart of the downtown area. As afternoon shoppers passed them by, they kept throwing nasty looks at the barbarian. Angren silently watched the smaller man keep glancing back and forth between a piece of paper he held in his hand and the street signs.

"Where is it... tarnation... you'd think after livin' in this burg my whole life, I'd know where the hell everything is. Lessie..."

Win didn't want to take Angren to the hospital... he knew the barbarian might not get fair treatment by the way he had been looked upon in the city so far. Win had another plan: a friend of his that was a healer and an apothecary.

"She knows a thing or two about medicine... she's around here somewhere..." Win spun around with a look of determination and almost knocked over a young woman carrying an infant child.

"Excuse me!" she scoffed.

"Sorry ma'am..." Win apologized hastily.

The woman's face twisted into a frown that she presented to Angren, then she walked away hurriedly. Win looked up at Angren. "Heh heh... people in Marn are pretty swell once you give them another chance, honest, pardner."

After a few more minutes of displaying his "I'm-actually-lost-but-I'll-pretend-like-I'm-not" dance to Angren and the rest of the public, he finally figured out what he was doing.

"Shoot, I was holdin' the map upside down... sorry, pardner..."

* * * * * * *

The two looked up at the small apartment building.

"On the third floor is a lady friend of mine... er, well... she was a friend of mine until I... uh..."

Win suddenly remembered the time that the healer went out of town and asked Win to take care of her pet mice. Win brought them back to his house, thinking that he could control his hunger, but at midnight...

"Well, you probably don't have to mention me, pardner. Here," Win said as he offered Angren a few bishani. "She might try to sell you some crazy tonic or something... so go in there and let her have a look-see. I'll, uh... wait here."

(ooc: feel free to do whatever you want here, dude. You can go in there and get healed, or make her a fortune-teller that foreshadows something in Angren's future, or Angren can just deny Win's suggestion altogether.)

[Angren Paur]

It was actually quite a while later before Win came up to the room to retrieve him. Angren was a bit perturbed by his having slept late, but decided to let it go as Win didn't seem to mind. The sunshine and fresh air of the city helped bring his still restful mind around.

He followed Win around in circles, watching the man try to figure out where to go, and didn't pay nearly as much mind to the looks he received as his new friend did. It seemed odd that Win defended the actions of the people when Angren didn't even mind. He just stared blankly at people that past them by and at the woman with the child.

It took a force of will not to laugh when the cowboy realized his map was turned wrong, but the barbarian pulled it off well and followed Win to their true destination. From outside the building he could smell bitterroot and a conglomeration of other herbs. He didn't really want to go in, but he figured that it would be better to humor his friend. So through the door he went, without taking the offered money.

The smell of herbs on the third was so strong that it burned Angren's eyes. Now he really didn't want to be here. He walked to the indicated door and knocked. Luckily no one answered. He could leave without seeing the woman and not have to lie to Win. He turned and moved back towards the stairs only to find an odd woman looking at him questioningly.

"Who're you?" She asked in an odd accent. Angren struggled over an answer, but eventually came up with one.

"I am Angren Paur. I was told to seek you out with help for my injuries. She looked him up and down with a disapproving eye. Angren did the same to her, however. She wore a ragged olive coat, that was probably once much brighter, over some other clothing, her face was smudged with some kind of grease, and her mousy brown hair was extremely mussed. A few seconds later she began moving towards him, then past him, grabbing his arm and dragging him along in her wake.

Once inside her cluttered apartment she took off her coat to reveal a much nicer sun dress and pulled her hair up and tied it with a black ribbon. "Sit down over there," she said, pointing at a cushioned bench in a corner of the room. Angren moved to where he was told and sat while the woman began digging through some glass jars on a shelf. After five or so minutes of glass clinking together and some muttered curses the woman turned and moved to where the barbarian now sat.

Without the coat and her wild hair obscuring what the woman looked like, Angren could tell that she had a good bit of potential to be an attractive woman. Now his mind began to spin with all the possible way Win might have separated himself from her graces. "So, who led you to Ol' Milly?" She asked, her face extremely close to Angren's as she smeared some pungent smelling cream on his bruised cheek. Seeing that he was hesitant to answer she pushed the question again.

"Win Sabre," he answered timidly. Her eyes, glaring furiously, snapped to meet his. She shoved the jar into the barbarian's large hand and stepped back from him quickly.

"Rub that on your bruises twice a day. Now, get the hell out of my home. And tell that bastard Win, that if he ever comes around here again or sends someone my way without getting the guts to come apologize for what he did, he won't like what happens." Angren stood hurriedly and moved out of the room. The door slammed right behind him. He met his friend out front, and greeted the other man with a shrug.

[Win Sabre]

"Whaddya mean you don't need any new equipment?" Win asked as he looked the barbarian up and down. Despite the condition that Angren had been in when they first met, his armor was in suprisingly neat shape.

"Well, I have no weapon of any kind. I'd like one of them new-fangled guns. One of those gnomish deals..." he continued to mumble to himself as Angren watched. Finally the smaller man turned his head to the north.

"Up that a-ways is the Industrial District," he explained to Angren. "There's a bunch of gnomish junk shops and smithies there... they also run the power plant. Maybe we'll stop and I'll show you how they make Marn's electricity. You... you know what electricity is, right? Well, c'mon!" He called behind him as he started heading through the crowd of shoppers towards the bleaker and less inhabited part of town.

[Angren Paur]

(OOC: Sorry I didn't see your post go up earlier Win, but I see it now )

Win hadn't asked about the barbarian's visit with the woman, no surprise given the hostility the woman obviously held for him. Instead he'd asked if Angren needed new armor or weapons. He had responded by patting the pommels of his swords, holding his arms out and turning them for inspection of the red painted armor, and saying a simple "I own all I need." He had been expecting the mild disbelief that bordered on shock, but was glad to see his new ally let the subject go at that.

He simply stared at the cowboy with a raised eyebrow when the comment about electricity was made. He really didn't have any clue what the substance was, but he felt it was probably some potion or other magic that allowed Marn's powerful military to stay as formidable as it was.

He dismissed the thoughts with a shake of the head and followed Win into the crowd. "Gnomes are strange creatures." He said once he was back at the side of the shorter man. "Very peculiar, but they have their uses I suppose."

He scanned through the memories of all his many travels for those of gnomes. A few particular individuals of that race came to mind as soon as he began looking for their presence there; a hot tempered little man who liked the drink a bit more than he needed to, a feisty female who's only goal in life was to prove herself mightier than humans and males alike, and a soot covered "alchemist" who enjoyed making things that would blow up in peoples' faces, especially big strong barbarians. "I have known a few in my travels. I pray we not run into any of that unpleasant lot."

[Win Sabre]

"Yeah, they are a little peculiar, huh? You'd think that this here little 'burg'd be no place for 'em. You'd think they'd live over in Caelteth Eyrop, in the big cities. You don't come from a big city, do ya, pardner? I ain't never seen one... but I betcha there's hundreds'a gnomes 'round there. And we will have to run into that 'unpleasant lot;' it's unavoidable." Win searched his mind for bad experiences with gnomes, but there were not nearly as numerous as Angren's. Overall, the smaller man did not find them to be all that bad.

Before long, they reached a corner in the northernmost part of town, where the buildings thinned. Win led Angren across a vacant lot occupied by some homeless people, and after trekking through a field of some tall grasses, they arrived on a hill overlooking the river.

"This here's the Ofriyu Mar... you probably are smart on this one, since if ya came from the north, you had to cross it to get here. It's dangerous in some places, so be careful, pardner."

Win gestured with his hand to their left, at the Power Plant. "There it is, Pardner. Where we get all our electricity from. One of man's greatest inventions, if you ask me." Angren looked over the towering building and the 75-ft high water wheel as it churned the river with its massive display of iron and wooden parts. The spray of water from the wheel's disturbance seemed to create a mist around the Plant that made it all the more mysterious and powerful.

Man's greatest invention...

"Man's worst invention is the gun... it can kill, it really can. But hey, I need one to take care of man's worst. The gnomes take everything that man does and makes 'em better, and I think it's dandy. You saw them gizmos in my room, right? Gnomish clocks and stuff. Real int'restin'. Well, let's go," he shrugged as they walked back down the hill to the gnomish firearm shop.

[Angren Paur]

Angren followed Win through the city, staying silent for the most part. "Aye, I have not seen a large city either. The coast and the inner lands are not kind to large settlements," he said, looking piteously at the homeless they passed. He did begin to speak, however, when they reached the hill.

"What is electricy?" He asked, completely ignoring the topic of the familiar river and guns. "I've never heard of it, but if it is created in that place it must be wondrous." He pads along after Win staring up at the huge water wheel like a delighted child.

[Mercedes D'Amour]

It’s not that they were new to the realm of magic by any means. They had been pretty much drowning in it for most of their lives – for one of them, magic was her sustenance, her lifesource.

Maybe it was because it was such horribly conducted magic that they reacted so poorly.

At first, neither of them could sense anything coming from the strange book or the costumed freaks delivering the lines scripted there. Mercedes’ guitar was slung over her shoulder and her knitted satchel was looped around her neck in the other direction, as though she were merely waiting for a carriage, ship, or long lost love – not impending doom. Aimee was the first to see the whispers of true magic arise from the false medium like snakes breaking out of their burrows in spring. Her mind’s eye received the information as a series of orange-yellow streams collecting in a sort of sulphurous pool before rocketing towards the women – eating up the air as they came. Mercedes stumbled back at the perceived impact, but it was Aimee who was truly suffering.

It was stifling, this magic. She felt as though every fibre of her soul was being scratched away from its neighbours by jagged talons. Aimee screamed – and Mercy screamed right along with her. Her sister’s awareness bled into Mercedes’ consciousness, though she perceived it with her physical bias, doubling over and grabbing her resonating temples.

What the collected populous saw was a simple woman screaming, then the very air seemed to bend and she disappeared as though into a fold of fabric. She was gone, and they cheered. Cheered. It was probably for the best that Merc hadn’t heard their enthusiastic cries.

***************

The space in between their departure location and their destination was completely indescribable - from a single perspective. For Aimee it was a terrifying whirlpool of sensations that tore at her, trying to separate her from her sister. It was intense and painful. For Merc it was a sea of blackness – she had passed out. So when the astral plane puked them back up into the realm of physical laws, they arrived with all the grace of a muskrat that had been pitched out of a second storey window.

The air was sweet, the land green with plush vegetation, a stream was bubbling nearby. Any of those places would have been a more pleasant place to land than the stony path they did land on. The impact caused blood to spout from Mercedes’ nose and bead in the dust. Miraculously, she didn’t flip over, thus saving her guitar from a similar fate. Their body scraped to a halt in some thorny bushes next to the trail, the guitar and bag catching in the branches and partially suspending it above the undergrowth.

Aimee was reeling from her trip, and thus unable to open Merc’s eyes. Mercedes was down for the count. Still there was nothing wrong with their body and the repetitive sound of dripping was the most immediate sense to filter through into the chaos, followed by birds singing and moving about in the wood. After that, footfalls – one light, but the grating of the rock under the soles would be harsh, the other heavy, obliterating the stones where they offended the heel. Instinctively, their foot moved to conceal itself among the foliage. The movement caused the thorns to dig deeper into Mercedes’ flesh and a light moan pushed through her lips. She stirred further and her brain revved up enough to think, “Not again.” before cycling back down into darkness.

[Geldenwing]

She had been picking more wildflowers for the cavern she now called home, and was moving with a skip and a giggle along the road. A few of the "flowers" had been weeds with long roots which pulled up along with them when she ripped them from the ground. Inspired by some human fashions she'd seen done with ribbons, she'd woven these into her hair to form disastrous braid-like formations which dangled at odd angles along with her hair.

More of the weeds had been shoved into her pouch at her hip with the vague notion that Illilli could make a tea or stew using them. Likely the dragon shifter would give her a companionable smile and just accept the offerings rather than inform the small woman that the weeds would make the most disgusting broth possible. It was always better to humor her.

She paused and pulled the bouquet of flowers and assorted grasses to her face, taking a large sniff of their earthy scent and fluttering her wings in appreciation of nature. Of course, the poor things would be dead in just a few days, but this fact was neither here nor there to the fae. She was just happy they were pretty at the moment.

She walked right past the unconscious woman lying by the side of the trail, distracted by scent and sight of flowers, but the globular mass of roots she'd wedged into her pouch worked itself from its prison with desperate diligence until it popped free and cascaded to the trail in a waterfall of stringy plant life. Some seeds scattered as the ball hit the stony trail, and the fae let out an anguished cry at sight of the mess she'd made, though more for the fact that she would now have to clean it up.

With a dramatic sigh and rolling eyes, she crouched and began scooping the weeds into a new ball, packing it tightly enough that some of the roots broke and poked into her palms. She harrumphed and jammed this back into the wayward pouch, which immediately began the steady process of pushing it right back out. The fae didn't notice that the ball didn't make it halfway back inside of the pouch before falling into the road again. She was busy staring at the woman. Or at least the bits she could see.

Or even more specifically, at the woman's guitar.

"Ooooooh, pretty!"

She clapped her hands and hop-skipped over, beaming at sight of the instrument and the strings it presented to the air. The human was assumed to be taking a nap in the most unfortunate and uncomfortable location possible, but Gelden understood that humans were very odd and did things that couldn't make sense to her. Besides, there was no pool of blood. Pools of blood meant bad things, and since this scene was severely lacking in a pool of anything beyond woman-flesh, she couldn't think there might be something wrong.

She reached out to pluck one string, giggling at the sound. Another string, and another. The guitar vibrated with the untrained noises it made, causing the thistles to vibrate as well. The fae grinned wider at the odd sight and kept right on plucking.

[Mercedes D'Amour]

AaaaaGeeeeEeeeeeAaaGeeDeeeDeeeeAaaaaa

Mercedes subconsciously called out the names of the notes as the fairy strummed her guitar. Aimee had heard the giggling long before the young girl approached, but only now found herself able to prop open her eyelids. Brown and green swam in undifferentiated streams and it reminded her a little too much of vomit to keep her eyes open for much longer. A breeze shifted the branches, causing their body to bob slightly, which didn't help the feelings of nausea. She reached her arms forward in an attempt to find the ground, but halted as the thorns tore at her hands and scratched along the smooth leather of her jacket.

Where were they? Maybe it didn't work. Maybe they were still home. She had to know..."Mercy?" she said aloud.

Who the hell was playing her guitar?! Merc gave a sudden start and pulled herself to her knees in one smooth movement...and instantly regretted the decision. As deftly as she had risen, she rolled onto her hip and sat flat on the ground. Mercedes wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand and looked at it with a sort of resignation before hanging her head between her knees and starting up an internal conversation with Aimee.

~Okay. Bloody nose. Better not be broken again - it's crooked enough as is.~
*Mercy?*
~Yeah. I'm up. You okay?~
*Mmmhmm. But I can't see straight. You?*
~I think I will be. We got some scrapes and a busted nose, but not too bad - considering. At least we still have a head.~

Aimee quieted; she was obviously still feeling the effects of the poor magics and was feeling much worse for wear than she'd admit. It was then that Mercedes remembered that someone was strumming her guitar while she was lying there bleeding. What kind of person would be so cold? Merc turned her head so that her left cheek still rested on her knee and looked over her shoulder for the mysterious picker.

[Geldenwing]

"AIEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The moment the woman jerked and sat up, the fairy shrieked and tumbled backwards, falling over herself in her scramble to get away. Humans weren't so bad when they were asleep, they stayed still and didn't say anything mean or scary. But when they were awake all that changed. They were only nice to certain people, and Geld could never be sure if she was on the Be Nice To Me list or the Stuff Me In A Little Jar list.

But the woman just sat there and sat there and it occurred to the fae that maybe she wasn't OK. Or maybe this was one of those people who sat real still and then attacked. Or maybe she was just pondering over the sorrow of being woken up from her nap and losing her most uncomfortable position to sleep in. The fairy didn't know and couldn't tell; what she could tell was that the woman had blood coming from her nose.

It wasn't a pool of blood, but it was still blood. Blood normally meant Bad Things. The fae had seen humans dealing with Bad Things before. She knew just how to make this better.

She crawled forward into the road and took up the tumbleweed-like mass of roots and weeds which had fallen from her pouch earlier. She shook it out once, then twice, to make as much of the earth still clinging to the brambly roots fall. Then, still in the center of the road and so far enough to run away if needed, she offered the ball to the human. Dust from the road and assorted seeds continued a steady trickle onto the fairy's hand and arm as her little hand trembled, anticipating being attacked.

"You can make a poultry. So that you don't die."

[Mercedes D'Amour]

Somehow they weren't overly surprised. They really should have been - fairies weren't the most common things in the world - but somehow seeing the little "girl" with wings didn't startle them in the slightest. Mercedes and Aimee had seen far too much to even consider responding to Geldenwing in any way other than they did. Merc looked at the ball of weeds, back up at the fairy - the poor thing was shaking so bad it looked like she'd just fall to pieces - then smiled faintly and slowly stretched out her right hand to take the offered bunch of herbaceous matter.

"Thanks."

She wasn't sure what a "poultry" was, but she had an idea of what the fae was getting at. Merc also didn't know what to do with the weeds. Cooking was not her strong point, let alone making potions. Yet, not wanting to slight the fairy's kindness, she did what first came to mind - she rubbed the scratchy roots and mangled stems across her face in an attempt to wipe the blood off. What resulted was a red-brown goatee and some rather unpleasant grit stuck in her nostrils. Despite the remaining discomfort, Merc summoned up another smile.

"I'm not gonna die."

Mercedes shifted so she could turn around and survey her surroundings without having to turn her head so much. She didn't recognize the waterwheel, nor did Aimee. Every forest looked the same to her, which didn't help her figure out if they had actually gone wherever the jerks back home had tried to send them.

"Where are we?" they whispered in unison, momentarily forgetting the presence of anyone else.

[Geldenwing]

Genden felt a fine, overwhelming sense of accomplishment when the woman accepted her root ball cure. An even larger smile and giggle emerged at the resulting semi-muddy stain that now rested under the woman's nose. Gelden put both hands to her mouth and tried to stop the giggles from being too loud. She managed to make them come from around her hands instead.

"I'm glad you won't die, 'cause dying's bad. You can't do anything fun again when you're dead. It's just quiet and boring."

Of course, the fae's theory on what death actually entailed was based on her own personal opinion. She just couldn't imagine that becoming a rotted, bloated body was much fun. Though if one could become a spirit and waft about playfully, she might be more open to the idea of a fun death.

The woman's question brought a look of pure concentration to the fairy's face, including a scrunched nose, squinty eyes and a tongue being pinched between her lips. She gave up with a dramatic sigh.

"You got a funny voice. I dunno what humans call here. We should make up a name!"

Excited about this new diversion, Gelden turned to survey the surrounding landscape. Beyond the grasses and trees, she saw weeds. Lots of weeds. Enough to make about a hundred more little weed balls to rub under this woman's nose and make funny stains. At least the woman wouldn't die, with so many weeds available. She looked back at the human and pondered.

"Maybe somethin' like - like Weedonia. It's not so pretty but it sure describes the place!"

[Mercedes D'Amour]

Merc's eyes rolled back over to the fairy with a half-way puzzled, half-way incredulous look. What was so funny? She'd forgotten how funny the fae could be...compared to what? That thought made her laugh - there really was no such thing as normal - maybe societal norms existed, but they certainly weren't as all-encompassing as everyone made them out to be. Laughing hurt, and Merc caught herself before more than a couple of chuckles could get out. Gelden's next comment on death awarded the fae another strange, yet humoured, glance.

"I dunno. Sometimes death is quiet and boring - sometimes it isn't. *And you can still have fun.*"

The third sentence was with the same voice as the first two, though there was a slightly lighter inflection to the tone. Still, if the fae was attentive enough, she may distinguish something...abnormal. Aimee caught herself and Mercedes' spine straightened with a sharp intake of breath. They were tired. Usually they didn't have difficulties with breaking into the middle of the sentence - taking turns made it more difficult for people to clue in. They were brought out of their reverie with the little winged girl's suggestion. Great. The first person they meet doesn't know where they are either. Typical. Merc struggled to her feet, spending quite a bit of time in the half-crouch position steadying herself with her hands.

"Weedonia, eh? Works for me."

She paused, uncertain of what to do or say next. The fae weren't known for sticking around for long, but she didn't want to be the first one to leave. First of all, she didn't know where to go - secondly, she didn't want to tick off one of the "good folk" as they were known back home. No sense in burning bridges. She made a wavering step toward the stream.

"Think I'll get a drink, if you'll excuse me."

She would go as soon as she stopped swaying on her feet.

[Angren Paur]

Angren was still staring up at the wheel, following Win along, when something caught his attention. Something that sounded almost like musical notes ringing out from the woods far behind them. He stopped in place and turned towards the forest. He couldn't see anything.

He started to turn back around, but then the giggling became audible. Someone was out there. He took a few tentative steps towards the wooded area, then a few more, and stopped to survey the area again. His eyes narrowed in concentration. A flash near the edge like light on skin, but it was gone as fast as it had come.

He took another step, but was halted mid-way by a shrill whistle. He looked over his shoulder to see Win staring uphill at him. "What're you doin' pardner? We got places to be now." The barbarian just nodded and headed after Win, but not before stealing one more glimpse into the forest. Something was definitely there, and probably still was.

He trotted off into this loud, dirty part of the city after Win. Carefully watching his path, making sure he didn't trip over some spare piece of metal or bump in to any of the shorter, humanoid race that occupied this area. He was paying so much attention, in fact, that he didn't see his friend enter a shop up ahead. If it hadn't been for the still open door stopping him in his tracks, he would have been lost in the city.

Once inside the building, Angren's eyes had to adjust to a near absence of light, the two windows in the large room either covered by boards or soot. The big barbarian, having no interest in Win's discussion with the dirty faced gnome behind the counter, walked to the side of the room and perused the bladed weapons on display.

There weren't many, most of the shelf and hanging space being occupied by strange inventions and odd guns, but the ones that were there were nothing short of magnificent. Not a frill to be seen, no intricate and useless little engravings, just pure, unadulterated killing efficiency. He slid his finger along the side of a long sword, just below the line were the angled cutting edge began. The metal rang slightly as the calloused finger flicked off the weapon's tip. A good sword, but not as good as his own.

[Geldenwing]

The woman's assertions on death brought a furrowed brow and partially-sneering upper lip as confusion claimed the small fae's mind.

"How would you know? You sure look alive, Miss. Unless you're a ghostie. If you're a ghostie that's even better, 'cause then we can play pranks on people and it'll be fun!"

The final word was shouted with excited drama. Fun!

As the woman stood and swayed, Gelden stood and swayed, too. She began humming a little ditty, rocking back and forth and beaming. The woman had only just met her and was already dancing! This human was gonna be double fun!

"It's better if you sway like this, then you won't fall over 'cause you look like you're gonna fall over and you might get hurt if you do."

The fae demonstrated by splaying her arms out wide from her body, planting her feet about shoulder-width apart, and swinging her upper torso back and forth from one foot to the other, as though she kept thinking of doing a cartwheel in either direction and then forgot before she finished the move.

"See? Like this!"