Realm of Garrn: The Call of Adventure



"Sit ye'selves down and I will spin you a tale 'at were long lost t'er this human world.. Tis a tale of epic adventure, grand duels 'n combat in a world o' warcraft, magic, dungeons an' the like. A place chock full o' such mystical things ne'er seen in this world. T' tales began Lon' ago, when t' King of The High Tower, Riley Kyon the First, an' his kin marched on the darkened soil of Depthre in t' final march o' t' Great War. All t' races was united 'gainst t' dark lord. T' King 'ad when all 'o a sudden out come a massive Fire Drake from t' North! T'were a battle to end t' ages, an-

'Poligies lads and lasses, seem's like I got a wee'bit carried away. Now then, where was I? Oh! 'Ere it comes back! I reckon I was startin' t' story way too early, about a hundred years, if'm bein' precise. So, 'ere's how it went: Lon' ago in t' mythical and wondrous land o' Garrn, there was a group o' heroes who set out 'pon a dangerous quest. Their journey took 'em all'round t' continents, across t' sea, through forests and mountains, an' forced then t' overcome many difficult obstacles that threatened their mission. They was guided 'long on their quest by a power th' was said t' long since have vanished from t' world. Through determination an' vigil, t' heroes managed to destroy the evil an' make t' world safe once again.

The tale started out, much like any great tale of adventure does: some'were quiet an' cosy, most likely 'n a tavern o' some kind.. Ah, yes now I remember! 'T were t' town o' Vestial where t' take first began! On a night o' celebration, no less. With the findin' o' a magical artifact, the heroes would meet in t' local tavern and venture out into t' world t' begin their quest!

So, lads and lasses.. Are ye ready t' hear t' greatest tale o' Garrn?"

The sun rose once more over the peaceful Realm of Garrn. It was hard to believe that the harsh winter winds had, until recently, covered the earth with snow. With the snow, brought a relaxing quietness which absorbed all sounds that arose in the land naught but a few months prior. Almost as soon as the sun's daily rise had begun, the smell of the air turned sweet and the winds blew gently. In the midst of the day break, a small flower bud burst gently from its foundations, slowly growing into a beautiful purple blossom. Most saw the first flower bloom as a sign that spring was upon the land, and more would soon follow. Almost as quickly as the first, more and more beautiful flowers arose from the once snowy plains, quickly covering the vast landscape with nothing but sheer beauty. In a few weeks time, the snow had all but melted and all was well and calm. However, most people could not say they had been able to witness this scene personally, except one. It was a young boy with long, pointed ears, who was perched precariously on a nearby cliff ledge. His feet wildly swung about as he carefully and quietly regarded the rising sun.

He sighed at the sight of the land and lay down on the grass, staring up into the clear and bright blue sky. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of birds chirping, animals going about their business and the raging roar of the nearby waterfall where the townsfolk received their water. The thunderous crashing of the waterfall was only toned down by the gentle noise of running water coming from the stream that followed. The pale boy opened his eyes and sat up, searching the soft green grass gently for the book he had placed beside him. Even in the sight of such a wondrous and beautiful landscape, he could not help but write, even if he had no stories of his own to put into writing. He took another deep breath, and began writing in his book. Suddenly, as he had just thought of a good starting point, he heard a voice calling him. “Mercanor”, the deep, musky voice called. Mercanor placed the empty book on the ground once more and turned his head to see his father standing behind him. He had a spade in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other. “Come on now, son” Saan said, indicating towards the spade. “Time for your daily chores. You can deal with the crops and take care of the animals today. You’ll have time for your writing afterwards, but right now we need your help.” Mercanor let out a small, but content sigh, taking one last look at the horizon before him. He then gathered his book, placing it in the small pouch he kept tied to his belt, and stood up. Dusting his shirt off, he began walking towards his father.

Mercanor took both the spade and the gloves, smiling at his father, who in turn, returned the smile. “If you need any help,” Saan said as Mercanor began to walk away, “I’d advise asking Vent. Gii and I are working on the house. I’m afraid that the hole causing the leak in the roof is getting bigger, and we might have to stay at the Inn for a few days before it’s fixed fully...” Mercanor turned around and began walking backwards so he could see his father. He raised a hand to form a cup around his lips and called out “I’m quite sure I’m capable of doing what’s asked of me." with a playful tone. A smile spread on Saan’s lips, which was followed by a small chuckle. “It’s not like I’m heading off to war or anything, unless those damn worms are back. I'm just tending to some crops, and then some animals.” Mercanor called again, before turning around and rushing off to complete his chores as fast as he could. As he neared the farmhouse, he pulled a small leather flask from his pouch and walked over to the water pump beside the house. It was normally used to fill buckets of water that were needed for the crops, but he often used it for other reasons. He quickly filled his flask with drinking water, knowing he would need it later in the day.

After the flask had been filled, Mercanor started on his way to the barn, grabbing a few buckets and a set of sheers. Mercanor took another breath of air and sighed. He loved the feel the early spring air had: it was crisp and cool because of the remaining hints of winter, but warming up just enough because summer was approaching quickly. The smell of the flowers now blooming was sweet and tender, which was mainly the reason he spent so much time outdoors during the spring season. He hated to admit it, but flowers were something he found mildly interesting, although it wasn't something he would mention or bring up in a conversation. In secret though, he marvelled the beautiful planet and even went so far as to learn about all the different varieties of flowers located throughout the Realm of Garrn. He learned many interesting facts about them, such as what type would be good for clearing a headache, or simply what ones to avoid so one doesn’t get a nasty rash from rubbing his or her skin against it.

Mercanor finally entered the barn and began to complete his daily chores, which involved milking the cows, sheering the sheep, feeding the animals, collecting eggs from the chickens, disposing of any feces he saw (or smelled) and grooming the horses. Mercanor usually let the animals outside during the spring, summer and fall months, but not because his family didn't have enough feed. He thought it must've been hard staying in a barn all winter, so he let them roam free outside in the fields as a sort of apology. After he had finished his duties with the animals, he gathered up the collected resources and placed them in a bin, ready to go to the market. Mercanor then proceeded to fill another bucket, except this time, with water, and grabbed a small pouch filled with wheat and Pumpkin seeds. After making his way to the acre of fields they owned, he proceeded to plant new crops. Due to the fact the winter had only finished recently, there was no crops for him to harvest, which he found was a slight disappointment. As a Farmboy, Mercanor always enjoyed taking a bite of the first fruits and vegetables of the season.

When Mercanor had managed to finish all of his chores, the sun was just reaching its position high above the world, symbolizing the arrival of Mid-Day. His flask had run out of water, so after he refilled it, he took a long swig and quenched his thirst. The half-elvish boy made his way back to the fields so he could watch the animals graze and possibly get inspiration for his book. Mercanor had learned and knew all of the barnyard animal’s names, most of which his father had given them upon their birth, or gained from their previous owner upon purchase. Mercanor used the names commonly when he was handling the animals or even simply comforting them when they were upset. He watched them graze for a half hour or so before he decided to grab some breakfast. Just as he was about to leave, he heard a loud whinny and turned around. He saw one of the new horses who was born during the winter, seemingly distressed by something. Mercanor placed his flask back into his pouch, then walked towards the young steed, rubbing its nose gently as he began to comfort the mare. “There there, Brèàngul. What’s bothering you then?” Mercanor said, in a quiet and comforting tone. The horse turned its head slightly, ushering another whinny, this time much quieter and calmer. Mercanor turned to see the horse looking towards the Droala Mountain's laying to the Northeast of Vestial. He sighed with displeasure, knowing almost exactly what the mare desired: to roam free and discover the lands for herself, seeking truth and the answers, and discovering lost cities and exploring the many continents and regions that consisted within the Realm of Garrn (except, of course, for the dreaded Issei Torul region, which was once the place where evil dwelled). Mercanor knew the thoughts of the mare, not because he could read the minds of beasts, but because he too often thought of leaving the farmhouse, Vestial, and his Farmboy life behind. He wished to just wander the lands, looking for adventure and become part of legend. Mercanor chuckled, still gently patting Brèàngul on the nose and stroking his mane.

“Aw, it’s alright girl..” Mercanor explained. “I know exactly how you feel... Tell you what.:I promise that if I ever get a chance to go out and explore the world, I’ll be sure to bring you along with me. It would be a great opportunity for the both of us, wouldn’t it?” The mare clopped it’s hooves against the ground, almost as if it were ready to ride off into the distance with Mercanor upon its back. Mercanor smiled, giving the horse one final pat on the head, before grabbing a small handful of grass, feeding the mare one quick snack. “One day, we'll see it all. For today, you are to remain in Vestial, but one day soon, you and I will be climbing the Droala Mountains, running across the Feria Plains alongside the men of the West, and seeing the splendorous sights the world has to offer... One day...” Mercanor said, sighing slightly in disappointment. He knew that he was needed at the farm, but he wished he could just get away from it all, and choose to go wherever he desired and maybe even learn more about himself along the way... as well as his mother. He had so many questions about her that still remained unanswered. “Who was she? Was she as beautiful as everyone said she was? How did she die? How did his father and her come to be lovers?” Mercanor wished to know more, especially after hearing his appearance is from his “mother’s side”. Did that mean she too had pointed ears and many of the features easily pointed out on Mercanor? If she had those features, then that meant she was an Elf, that much was obvious to anybody with eyes.. But what Mercanor didn't fully understand was: if his father was human, and his mother was an elf.. Then what was he? And why was he so different from Vent and Gii? So many unanswered questions.. But little if he know that he would soon be remembered, along with a group of heroes, as the greatest defenders of the Realm of Garrn..

Xukhezur was on standby, currently relaxing in his quarters, in the underground complex of the Lorosfyr Imaskari Enclave on the planet of Toril. Deep beneath and to the east of the complex lay its primary portal terminal, a huge cavern with rune-etched columns arranged in a large circle around where a small thrumming singularity of blackness hovered, bobbing up and down about ten feet above the ground. Capable of opening a large two-way portal to nearly any location on any planet or plane, barring areas that were properly warded against such intrusion or subject to unusual magical conditions or dead magic zones, the portal terminal was currently being attuned to a location on the distant planet of Garrn, which lay in a far off system. It had been deemed habitable and populated by the enclave's small explorer's council of diviners and seers, who observed what they could of the planet from afar. Lord Turrex, who was one of those in charge, was eager send someone to Garrn on the enclave's behalf, despite warnings that anyone crossing the threshold of any portal opened to Garrn would be subjected to a substantial risk of harm and injury... perhaps resulting in death.

"If interplanar means of travel to or about this world proves difficult, then perhaps this world would remain a difficult mark for the likes of the githyanki, fiends, and other would be invaders. It could be that the world has land and resources to spare, and might prove itself a good location to establish another enclave. We should at least try to send a few of our constructs to the other side, to explore the world for an optimal place to set up shop and perhaps build and create a receiving platform that would help stabilize later uses of our portal." Lord Turrex suggested.

Lord Urzaius Turrex was tall, lean and dark, with short cropped white hair, garbed in a broad-collared nightscale greatcoat and a sash bearing the sigils of his station. Wall sconces bearing everburning torches lit the long hall, revealing the lord, the guards and three of the diviners from the explorer's council. The diviners nodded begrudgingly as a guard was then sent for Farseeker Xukhezur Kavinath and Quartermaster Karlvar Nissavu to requisition the use of some optic orbs, and attempt to send them to Garrn as scouts.

The optic orb homunculi, appeared as dull mottled metallic spheres, each one inch in diameter and covered in a multitude of miniscule recessed mox gems. They were able to propel and maneuver themselves about by means of manipulating an aura of artifical gravity. They could see, hear, 'feel' and telepathically communicate great distances under a variety of conditions, analyze magical phenomena, cloak themselves with invisibility, and establish mind and sense links with their designated master across any distance on the same plane. Such as it was, both the quartermaster and the farseeker had a few of them, and were each asked by one of the lord's attending messengers to bring a few of them to the portal terminal.

Coming to stand outside the cylinder formed by the rune-etched columns that marked the center of the portal's cavern. Xukhezur and Karlvar met with the portal's personnel and members of the explorer's council, as they all helped activate the terminal by laying their hands upon the outside surface of its columns. The runes on the columns pulsed and flared to life with a violet light, as bolts of energy were slung between the columns and the singularity at their center. As they all focused their minds on the intended destination, eventually all of these bolts of energy jumped between a single pair of columns on opposite sides of the cylinder. These bolts pulled at the singularity, stretching it open and out like a sheet of fabric to form a vertical plane. About twenty feet wide and thirty feet tall, this plane eventually fixed itself and stopped wavering, held in a fixed location between two of the columns.

The cylinder formed by the eight columns, measured thirty yards in diameter and stood about forty yards tall, yet none were willing to step into this cylinder with the rectangular portal, despite being given a sprawling view of Garrn's vibrant landscape through the portal itself. The farseeker and the quartermaster reached into their pockets to produce a pair of optic orbs each, which they released and commanded to fly within reach of the members of the explorer's council who had gathered around them. "Everyone ready?" Karlvar said, as the council cast their own spells upon the optic orbs to help protect them and to share in the information they might gather. Once they all, more or less nodded or stepped aside, Xukhezer and Karlvar telepathically bade their orbs through the open portal without further ado.

It was barely two months into his journey, and already, Jagred had experienced some difficulties. The worst and most pressing of them was probably his coin purse, or more specifically, the lack thereof. It all started with a pint of free ale and the promise from the innkeeper that it could hardly give him buzz. Afterward, he could only assume he had downed a keg or two, got into a brawl, broke someone’s jaw, then lost his coin purse somewhere along the way. Fortunately, the rest of his belongings remained untouched, so he still had enough rations to carry on this far, after the innkeeper kicked him out. The next few weeks had been hard. Jobs were hard to come by, since the folks down south didn’t seem to need his services that often. Nice people, but thanks to them, he might starve to death. Without a proper bow, he could barely feed himself while traveling through these woods, and traps only got him so far.

However, coins weren’t his biggest concern at the moment.

He was looking for a quaint little village somewhere south of Vish. The name had completely escaped him, but with the trees thinning and animals growing scarce, he knew that civilization wasn’t too far away. If what that innkeeper said was anything to be believed, it would be just a tiny village, a perfect place for him to get his next meal ticket without any fear from the local militia, should the need for less legal methods ever arose. However, as a personal code, he would like to stay on the good side of the law as much as possible. Without the Reaverrend Company at his back, he had to cut down on the killing, or else the result could prove to be quite fatal. Try to play nice, his father would have said. Well, that easy said than done.

The village, as it turned out, wasn’t as small as he was led to believe. Netherless, it was too late to turn around now. He would have to make do. Adjusting the heavy cloak around his shoulder, Jagred strolled down into the village, as casual as a simple farmer who had just returned from a day of hard work. Some villagers turned their eyes when he walked past, and he could see the suspicion in them. Not outright hostility though, so that probably meant they didn’t see many Draconians around these parts. His kind had managed to mingle quite well with most races, especially humans, but sometimes, the horns and split pupils still made folks nervous. He didn’t mind the attention, really, as long as they didn’t go overbroad with it. Last time an idiot called him a demon and attempted to correct that with holy water, his temper had really flared. Luckily, most of the villagers didn’t seem to have anything of that sort planned. They provided him with directions to the nearest inn when asked, only squirmed a little while doing so. And when he finally decided to head off, they barely glared.

Maybe those questions were unnecessary, after all. He could basically taste the stench of stale ale and sweaty bodies in the air as soon as the establishment came into view. He paused for a moment at the door, quirking an eyebrow at the sign, then proceeded to open the door and step inside. The odor was even worse, but he doubted screaming that fact in the face of its owner would change anything, so he kept quiet, glancing around the tavern in search for an empty seat. And right then, a group of men caught his eyes. They had a card game going on, the wooden table was littered with cards, chipped mugs filled with some murky liquid that might be what passed for alcohol around here and of course, shiny coins. He smirked then, a ghostly twitch of his lips that was barely there. Walking briskly toward said table, he removed the heavy backpack, placing it at his feet, did the same for his cloak, before taking a seat. The men all turned to look at him then, confusion and annoyance lined their features. Holding their gazes, he offered a half smile, then spoke up.

“It looks like you’re missing a player. Mind if I join?”

While the men was still too busy sharing glances and talking between themselves, he sat back, one hand reached into the hidden pocket of his coat for the spare deck of cards. Good thing he had changed into this long sleeve shirt beforehand.

A thick, withe smoke was carried by the morning breeze along the dirt road that passed the sparsely forested hills, bringing with it a strong cherry aroma. The trail of dissipating smoke could be followed to a small camp just off the road. There a dwarf was laying on his back, letting out rings of dense smoke from under his thick, black mustache. An extinguished campfire, no longer emanating any traces of heat was a few feet from Fognar. The tobacco in his pipe was all burnt up and he threw the residue in the ash of the campfire : " Guess it's time to go... " Fognar was used to talking alone, from the time that Yeena spoke to him : " Oh, my dear, how I miss the hours we spent together, talking nonsense for so long... " He had not heard it's voice in years, but he knew it was there. He could feel it, deep inside...

Fognar grabbed his backpack and swung it on his back, then took up his mace and wondered off towards the road, leaving the site of the camp as it was, for any future travelers. Birds chanted above his head and rabbits hopped along with him on the nearby hills as Fognar slowly walked along the road. He liked it in the south of Garrn, warm weather, peaceful surroundings, even at night, small, welcoming towns and farming villages, nothing like the bustling cities in the northern parts, filled with garbage, beggars, thieves and shabby pubs or the mountains in which Fognar started his journey, filled with wild, horrifying beasts and the occasional tribe of hostile, uncivilized orcs or goblins : " I quite like this place ya'know ? I think this would be the perfect place to stay if we were ever to settle down. "

Carrying on like that Fognar spent half the day, talking alone and enjoying the peace and the playful sound of nature around him. The sun shone bright in the middle of the clear, bright sky when he reached the small town that was at the end of the road, at least from what he remembered from the map he had seen in the last settled place he slept in : " We ought to buy a map of our own someday soon, otherwise we might end up as lost as that time in the mountains of Plancti Roshan " From the hill overlooking the town he could see the outlying farms, all with a moderate amount of land attributed, none too poor and none too rich, a paradise for many it seemed.
As he hurried up the pace downhill he saw the many farmers, some working their fields, some resting in the cool shadow and some bringing goods to town, most likely to sell in the market. Looking the people in the eyes Fognar did not see a trace of sorrow, or anger, only content men and women who lived their lives as they knew and enjoyed it. Walking into town the atmosphere became a bit more crowded and the smell of bodily odors, combined with the one of fresh fruits and vegetables hit Fognar's nose. He walked straight into the market. It was a small one, nothing like the large markets he had seen, with wares so diverse, the king himself would not have enough money to buy them all, or find a use for every one of them. This one was small and the most exotic thing sold here were steel arrows and a wooden bow.

As Fognar was looking around a rather young man called : " 'Ello there ser dwarf ! Never seen you 'round these parts before ! Care for a fresh apple ? As sweet and juicy as you've ever tasted. " The lad was barely in his twenties, maybe even younger and Fognar hadn't tasted an apple for so long even he forgot about it : " How much for one ? " said he, smiling. The boy returned the smile and handed the approaching dwarf one of the largest apples he could find in the bunch : " First one's free ser. Just taste it ! " As Fognar took a bite the bitter-sweet taste flooded his mouth. It was almost heavenly : " Damn fine apples you have here ! Give me a few ! " The boy give him some 4 apples and was paid with a few coins : " Do you mind telling me if there is any place in this town where I can rent a room ? Or at least a bed ? Also, would you care to inform me of any work around here that might suit a wandering dwarf like me ? The young man listened carefully : " You'll want the tavern for rooms ser. Right over there ! " He pointed towards a wooden, two-floor building with a sign above it : " And for work you should check one of the message boards around town. There's one right there in front of the tavern. "

Satisfied with the answers he was given Fognar thanked the lad and carried on towards the tavern, one already half-eaten apple in his hand, the others put inside his backpack. He stopped before the message board and looked at the few messages that were nailed on it : " Old Man John needs help with a rodent problem at his farm; payment : 15 coins " Fognar chuckled a bit : " No thank you ! Let's see... " His eyes strolled through other messages of the like before he found a suitable job : " Warning : Dangerous ! Local beast known to eat livestock and even kill a couple of hunters in the nearby woods. Able-bodied men required. Payment : 1000 coins "
Fognar was surprised : " 1000 bloody coins ?! I'll be damn rich if i pull this off ! " Of course, he underestimated the view these people had on " dangerous beasts ". He thought that it was an oversized bear, probably with cubs.

With a large smile on his face Fognar opened the tavern door, instantly filling his ears with large amounts of noise. The tavern was surprisingly full for the size of the town and what surprised him most was seeing a " half-drake ", as he is used to calling draconians playing cards at a table. He did not mind him and proceeded towards the bar. The barkeep was a short robust man, no doubt human, even though he did look a bit like an overfed dwarf who called to him : " Oh, a dwarf ! Haven't seen one of your kind in these parts in years. What would you like ? " Fognar inspected the barkeep with his eyes then ordered a mug of the best ale they had and sat down at one of the few unoccupied tables : " I'd also like a room for a few nights, if you have one ! " The barkeep hurried up with the ale and although it was served in a chipped and frequently used mug it was of pretty good quality : " Oh, we certainly have a room, a few even. How long do you wish to stay ? " After a drink from the mug and a bit of thinking Fognar decided three days should be good. He paid the room and the ale, which left him with about enough for a few more drinks and, maybe, another night in here, and started drinking.

Down the road he came on that peaceful day, the only sounds being that chirps of the birds and the clinking of his armor as he moved. How long he had been wandering, it was hard to even remember when he started buy his life style forced him to move on, not to stay in one place for a long time, for there was always trouble that needed to be prevented all over the world and the only way he could do that would be by traveling throughout the land, preventing these misdeeds as well as spreading the word of his faith. They did not need covert to it, merely as long as he was able to express his faith and they listened he could not care if they wished to follow what he believed, merely that they had at least listened and that was what mattered.
He past a few farms that early morning, before by the stroke of midday he came upon a quaint village, far different from the usual cities he had visited. He wandered for a short while, looking at the few shops to see if they had any supplies he may need and debated on staying in the village for the night or to keep going. Eventually he decided to stay for the night though it meant spending the little coin he had left, something that had become far more sacred these days having no real means to get payment besides deeds which he did not enjoy asking money for doing, merely as long as he was able to make someone happy he was happy to oblige.
He entered a nearby tavern which contrary to what appeared to be outside, was full of a variety of different people, he eyed a dwarf along with a draconian amongst the hustle and bustle of the normal humans that seemed to reside in the village, most appearing to be humble farmers or workers at the few stores that resided here. Though they seemed to be the only two out of place here, it still was an odd site since the last dwarf he remembered seeing was several months back. As for a draconian, he had seen at least one before but when he couldn't remember for it had been quite a longer time ago.
Thalesin found his way to the barkeeper through the others that resided within the tavern to ask about accommodations and pay for a night. It seemed that he was in deed in luck for there were several vacancies. At least some fortune smiled upon him as he empty a few coins from his pouch, the last town he had past through had had no vacancy and he had had to press through a nasty storm that night so at least he got at least one night of good rest in a bed here.

Rocking from side to side, the cart traveled down the long road towards its destination. The hay on the back fluttering in the light wind, leaving a small trail along the road. Sounds of snoring echoed out from the cart, a strong but short arm handing over the edge in absence of caring, however with a mighty jolt of the cart the person within burst from the hay. "What be there?! You wanna... Oh, right..." With a loud yawn Orin stood up from the hay, dragging his pick hammer with him.

Using the curved side as a hook, he pulled himself up to the from of the cart, the sudden appearance of the weapon spooking the driver a little, though he soon calmed down when he noticed it was just the old drunk of a dwarf Orin. "Be we there yet?" He spoke as he climbed into the front seat. "Aye, it is just ahead. With this we are even, understand?" Orin gave a dismissive wave at what the cart driver said. "Sure, sure."

As said, it did not take long for them to arrive, and as any good dwarf Orin headed towards the nearest Inn to get a good drink! On his way he bought a apple pie, nice vendor, taking it to the tavern and bursting in, taking the food up to the bar and placing it down. Using his pick hammer he grabbed a stool and pulled it over for him to sit on. "A pint of ale would wash this down finely!" He clearly did not care about bringing food in, but since he was paying for drinks, or maybe because he was a dwarf, they did not care and just gave him his drink after he paid.

The first thing Jinayah noticed about the outside world was it's color.

There was so much of it. All sorts of green, for the trees and grass. Reds, yellows, even purples for the flowers. The blue of the afternoon sky was pale and calm, with puffy white clouds like some sort of thick dust. Even the sun was brilliant white-gold, a color so strong it hurt her eyes to look toward it.

She'd never realized there was so much beauty outside of the caves. Inside, in the dimness, things were deeper. Deep greens, plenty of browns, and all manner of gray and black. Her body suited the caves- her skin was rich, healthy and brown, her clothes were bat-leather black. Even her weapons, though shined to a prideful gleam, were gray. It was just what she was used to, and she didn't see a problem with it.

Not until she reached her first town did she even realize she was different, and that was only because people were giving her strange looks. The women were muttering, pointing at her, glaring. She didn't know why. They were all dressed so strangely, too. Long shirts, and skirts to the ankles, in all sorts of colors. Why were they all so... bundled? It wasn't even cold outside, but they dressed as if it were winter. Maybe they were all ill? But they didn't look ill, just... angry. Why cover the skin so much? No one would know who they were... Her hand strayed to the complex, ritual scars on her torso, tracing the lines on her skin. Already she missed home.

She tried to brush off the feeling that she was out of place, and stepped into what seemed to be some kind of market. Just in time, too. She'd been walking since dawn, and was quite hungry. There was a cart before her, full of shiny red fruit. It looked appetizing. She reached in one of her belt pockets, removing a handful of glittering stones. Turning back to the shopkeeper (who was gazing at her midsection rather intently) she smiled and held them out.

“>How much for the shiny redfruit?<”

(The little arrows indicate she's speaking Goblinese.)

Karansto Lakamov was not a bad guy. In fact, he liked to think himself quite nice, thank you very much. But as he stood there, staring at this little imp with her glittering rock and her gurgling - which could only be Goblinese, that utterly savage and inferior language - he could not help but feel his patience and good-nature slip ever so slightly. Was it not enough that he had just now given that little orphan boy a pear? True, he might have asked the boy to lick his boots clean, but that wasn't much when you came to think about it. He put on his best smile and bent down ever so slightly, looking the girl straight in the eye.

"Yes," he said slowly, as if speaking to an extremely dim child, "they are very nice stones," he nodded very slowly and took them from her hand and inspected them. He had never seen a more plain set of stones in his life. If these were what she took for valuable, then she had a lot of learning to be doing.
"Now, if I remember correctly," he said with a big smile on his face, "the school is th-"
"Who're you talkin' to Lack-a-move?" rolling his eyes, the fruit merchant turned around to the short, plump man who had popped up from behind the wagon. Why he had ever hired him he would never know.
"That's none of your business. And how many times do I have to tell you, it's Lakamov!" but the short man was no longer listening.
"Ooh! What's this?" the plump man had run around and was staring intently at the girl.
"Kristoff, get back to work," the fruit merchant gave the girl a patronsing smile as he made a grab for the short plump man, but missed him completely and fell over. Unfazed, Kristoff continued starting intently at the girl, then, very slowly, he reached for her nose and grabbed it, squeezing it a few times in fascination.

"My goodness, what a strange one this is, eh Lack-a-move?" he looked around himself, still squeezing the girls nose, "Lack-a-move?"

Jin smiled warmly at the tall man with the cart of shiny fruits. While she couldn't understand what he was saying, his voice sounded friendly and did take her stones to look at them. Then another man, shorter and fatter appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The two men started talking, and she could see the agitation on the bigger one's face. The short, fat one ran around the cart, and came close to her. Way too close. She leaned backward, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with the man's stare.

And then he grabbed her nose, squeezing it like a ripe mushroom.

">Hey! Let go of me!<" She swatted at his hand, more out of complete surprise than anger. Was this some kind of weird human custom? She didn't like it, not one bit. She yanked herself back out of the man's grasp, glaring upward with her dark eyes. ">Don't touch me again, you fat toadstool!<"

She looked back at the other man, who was on the ground, and she pointed eagerly to the fruit, her patience now thinning. ">Is it a fair trade or not?<"