"I suppose that's a possibility... if you consider other skills besides fighting to be warrior-like..."
Akelda turned to Ellise with a look that suggested folly. Her eyes, rimy blue and unyielding, bored into her like ice picks, judging and gelid. But behind them there was the inexplicable sense that an old soul was watching through them. A woman who knew a different world, to the one both idlers currently sat in.

"That's... an interesting statement," she spoke, in her small, high voice, her dress shuddering lightly from the neck down. She said so quietly, and slowly, as though she were trying to process all the ways in which Ellise did not belong to her world. And as though she had picked her words deliberately, to cause as little offence as she, in her regal state of mind, could manage.
"Odd you should assume so few of us are fighters, though. You would, perhaps, be shocked to find that in times as dark as these, most everyone who wishes to wander is taught to defend themselves. This world is full of very stiff breezes."
Akelda squared her shoulders slightly at that, wordlessly suggesting there was much to her Ellise, and indeed nobody in the room, might have expected. But the gesture was hollow, almost invalidated entirely by her emaciated frame, which only proved to poke at the shoulders of her gown like the poles of a tent.
"And it's also odd you'd assume others might say it's a sword that makes a warrior. Is a warrior not one who wages war? Are they not politicians, who rally the men? Are they not writers, or artists, who vilify the enemy?" she asked, although it was in a dreamy, pondering sort of way, as though she were- at last- truly interested in what Ellise might have had to say. She had marked Ellise's statement as an odd one, but not necessarily one which displeased her.
"It is not my capacity to cause physical harm which makes me a good ally," she drew her spiel to a close, exhaling deeply. Her breath was a billow of icy mist, but the room wasn't particularly cold.
"Although... that should not be underestimated, either. What is it that makes a warrior, in your eyes?"

Audra's mind was swept in a hurricane of thoughts as the country woman confirmed that this Rowena was also the creator of her dream. What could be so important so as to send people dreams like these? Who was this woman? And why would she pick people like the country woman and Audra herself? A spark of stubborn pride flared, wanting to believe that she was not just a useless little girl like her brothers had always told her. Still, uncertainty cooled her temper and seemed to chill the very air around her - she had nothing to prove them otherwise yet...

Audra's thoughts were stilled abruptly as she realized that Rowena was looking at her, "Oh, good. Two more," The girl turned quickly and noticed that she hadn't been the only one listening. The woman behind her was dressed like she was from the country as well, her hair tied back in a unkempt bun. Audra faced Rowena once again, letting out a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I believe the others will be here soon. But... until then, please come with me."

Audra, feeling a burst of bravery that both excited and surprised her, asked "When do you plan on telling us what's going on? How do we know we can or even should trust you?"

Rowena stopped mid turn, intending to lead them down the conjoining hallway.

"How do we know we can or even should trust you?"

She was silent for a moment before a conceding sigh left her lips, "I suppose there's no way of truly knowing... but maybe I can entrust you with a secret of mine? In exchange for a moment of your time to explain?"

She waved aside her cloak and pulled a small cloth from her satchel. As she did so, her cloak was jostled just enough to reveal the long sword resting at her opposite hip as well as the finely made leather armor she wore. She brought the cloth to one ear, running it along the edges as if she was trying to wipe something stubborn off of her skin. As she removed the cloth, her long, unmistakably elven ear was revealed. She quickly did the same with the other ear, leaving a black, powdery looking substance with a glittery sheen all over the tip of the cloth.

"Will this suffice?" Rowen asked, her lips twitching into a coy smile. Saevel had told her that revealing her identity should be enough to ensnare their trust.

"Or at least their curiosity," he'd added.

"There is much I need to tell you all... about your unique abilities. Where they came from and why you have them...," Rowena trailed off, looking apologetic, "But it would be best if we found the others first."

Petra was absolutely dumbfounded. An elf? The unmistakable voice from her dream was an elf? Why would an elf call her to Jeorva? What does this woman need her and these other girls for? She certainly had a difficult time trusting this mysterious woman but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity had been peeked.

“Sorry, but did you just say there are others? Who else are we looking for?”

Wait did Petra just say ‘we’? She had no idea who these people were! So far, she met the hesitant red headed girl who stood in front of her and the young lady who seemed to have wounded the cloaked elf with her sudden realization. The same lady elf who also happened to have a long sword in an academy (which Petra was determined to ask about during the time for explanation). Actually, there was no better time to discover more about this woman like the present.

“Why are you carrying a sword? And wearing armor? Why-”

After seeing the apologetic look on her face, Petra quickly shut her mouth and nodded acknowledging her willingness to follow the elusive cloaked woman. She had absolutely no idea what was in store but anxiously anticipated learning more about ‘the others’.

As Rowena turned and paused, Audra couldn't help but swallow uncomfortably. Had she perhaps been too bold? The young girl's pride pushed that thought out of the way quickly, however. Didn't they deserve to know the meaning of all this? And she had obviously been somewhat right as Rowena had to consider her question seriously. Letting these mental notes bolster her, Audra stood with her shoulders squared as she waited for the anticipated response.

Finally a sigh left Rowena's lips, "I suppose there's no way of truly knowing... but maybe I can entrust you with a secret of mine? In exchange for a moment of your time to explain?"

Audra, uncertain but now definitely curious, nodded her consent. With an eyebrow raised, she watched as Rowena pulled out a piece of cloth from underneath her cloak. The farm girl took in a small gasp of surprise - had she seen a sword underneath that cloak? She could have sworn she had glimpsed what she would have imagined as leather armor as well. Maybe she had blinked and just thought she saw those things. But then Audra looked over her shoulder to the woman behind her and, judging by the expression on her face, they both had seen the same thing.

Audra faced Rowena again, only to be baffled as the cloth retrieved was being used to wipe the mysterious woman's....ears? As Rowena's hands lowered from the sides of her face holding the now blackened cloth, the farm girl's jaw dropped. Rowena's ears were now long and pointed, which meant only one thing... but it seemed too strange to be true. Audra had heard of elves from the lore told in the marketplaces or by her own family on late nights gathered around a fire after a long day's labor. But they had long disappeared, so she had been told. And yet here she was, staring at Rowena with intense awe and curiosity.

"Will this suffice?" Rowena inquired with a demure smile. Audra fumbled for words momentarily before collecting herself enough to say with a weak attempt at appearing unshaken "I suppose it will suffice."

Rowena looked at her and the others with an apologetic expression, "There is much I need to tell you all... about your unique abilities. Where they came from and why you have them...," she trailed off, "But it would be best if we found the others first."

The woman behind Audra spoke suddenly, mirroring some of the farm girl's questions whirling around in her own head, "Sorry, but did you just say there are others? Who else are we looking for? Why are you carrying a sword? And wearing armor? Why-?" The woman seemed to catch herself as she studied Rowena's face. After a moment, she nodded her agreement to follow the elf.

Audra sighed, her curiosity peaked and her impatience simmering. She approached Rowena, trying to appear calm and adult, "Well, lead the way then," she extended her small hand, hoping the elven lady wouldn't notice that it was shaking, "If you were sending us dreams, you probably know who we all are, but I may as well introduce myself. I'm Audra Hesten of Diedremere."

“Well, lead the way then,”

The girl who introduced herself as Audra Hesten appeared to be trembling slightly even through her bold words. Petra herself was practically jumping out of her dust covered clothing. She couldn’t quite tell whether it was from excitement from meeting another person from her home town or an inexplicable feeling of what could possibly be coming. Their steps seemed to echo off of the high ceiling of the academy as they continued following Rowena down the hallway. No one seemed to recognize anyone aside from the lady elf leading who seemed to understand everything while the rest of us seemed to be equally confused. Petra glanced around to see if any of the others were going to follow Audra’s example and introduce themselves to his newly formed group of gifted strangers. After a brief pause Petra decided to take the initiative and follow suit.

“I’m Petra Ducat, also from Diedremere,” she nervously pulled at the end of her sleeve as she attempted to suppress this unusual burst of shyness. “I was a mine worker down in the tunnels there," Petra turned towards Audra to find out more about how she came to Jeorva from their home.

"So were you a cook for the miners? Diedremere is a small town so I'm sure we've had several encounters but I can't seem to place exactly when and where. Did you live in the heart of town?"

At the Academy...

"I'll answer all of your questions soon, I promise," Rowena reassured in response to Petra's many questions, "My name is Rowena. I'm afraid names are a fickle sort of thing to find out. It's a pleasure to meet you, though."

She began to lead the girls down a longer hallway, which led to the back kitchen. This time of day, she knew it to be empty.

“I’m Petra Ducat, also from Diedremere. I was a mine worker down in the tunnels there. So I guess you could say I’m as good with a pickaxe as you are with that longsword.”

"Elspeth," the other girl nodded. She was still staring, unabashed, at Rowena's ears, "Of Inisad... I guess."

As Rowen continued leading the small group down the hall, she listened with quiet intent as the elementos named Petra started speaking to Audra.

----

On a street in Jeorva...

"Well, it's not every day one gets to enjoy such open defiance of the greedy bastards. I swear, he got winded picking up the scattered pieces. Allow me to apologize for the intrusion, I'm simply an admirer and a friend in a city where both are in exceedingly short supply.

"Some words of advice from a man who might as well been this boy when I was his age, if you'll have them. I don't know if you're sick of people like that, new to this city, or unaware of how dangerous it is, but they won't likely let something like this slide. The humiliation, you see. Slights fester like infected wounds, so I'd keep a low profile until that fat bastard's ire is on somebody else.

"Also, it's incredibly dangerous to be flashing money like that, especially if it's to help someone else. People here will gut their own mothers for a loaf of bread. Unless you plan on avoiding a city that seems to be comprised entirely out of suspicious alleyways, somebody in this crowd took notice of that and word's going to spread. Somebody's probably planning to see what else you have on you, and honestly, I'm not comfortable with the idea of the first decent person I've seen in months get punished for actually giving a shit about somebody the world gave up on.

"Ah, my apologies. Manners. The name's Randall. Just that, nothing fancy or extra. Keeps people like your friend from finding my whereabouts when I decide to knock him down a peg."

Raine politely listened to the stranger's introduction, though she was slightly alarmed by his sudden appearance. He'd been watching the entire time? She tentatively shook his extended hand. "I'm Raine," she nodded, "Thanks for the advice. I'll... try to be more careful."

"Ah--" her attention then turned back to the boy, "Is this what you're looking for?"

She retrieved the small pouch from her pocket and held it out to him. The boys eyes lit up and it seemed as though he were about to dive for it like it might suddenly fly out of her hands and into the atmosphere. He quickly composed himself, however.

"You-- you had it the whole time?" he said in astonishment as he stood up, "I... I can't thank you enough. Is there any way I can repay you?"

"You could start with your name... and maybe an explanation," Raine smiled as she placed the pouch in the boy's hand.

The boy hesitated for a moment-- either out of caution or shock that someone would bother asking. "My name is Zander," he sighed. Finally, he opened the pouch, removing a small bottle with thick blue glass in the shape of a tear. The liquid contents inside glowed faintly in his palm.

"This is medicine," his sharp demeanor softened as he gazed at it, "It's for my twin sister, Zanna. She's extremely sick and this is the only thing that will help her get better. I made a deal with Maucolyn several weeks ago-- I did some... less than pleasant jobs for him. In return, he said he would give me the medicine. But when the time came for me to collect it...."

Zander's hand wrapped around the bottle tightly, "He said he had a buyer and the money was too good to pass up. He said he'd get another one next fall, but... my sis is dying."

"She needs this right away then, right?" Raine said, looking genuinely concerned.

"Yes...," Zander nodded, "We're staying right in that inn there, actually. I was hoping to make it there and have her drink it before I got caught at least." As he spoke he motioned to a large building located adjacently to the stall that the Periset man had smashed. An elaborately designed wooden sign hung outside the door-- The Capering Caribou, it read.

After Audra's brief formal introduction to Rowena, the women followed the elf down a long hallway. The farm girl couldn't help but mull over and over in her mind the endless possibilities of their purpose there. Who are the "others"?, What did Rowena mean by "unique ablities"? Audra had never noticed anything about herself that she could describe as such. She felt like an ordinary girl, especially in such uncertain circumstances, despite her personal aspirations toward becoming something great.

A voice broke the silence, “I’m Petra Ducat, also from Diedremere.." Audra turned to see the woman that had been behind her as she continued her introduction nervously, "..I was a mine worker down in the tunnels there. So I guess you could say I’m as good with a pickaxe as you are with that longsword.” Looking her briefly up and down, Audra noted that Petra's strong physique and work-worn clothes certainly seemed to support her words. The farm girl could relate with coming from a background of hard work, but she had never really been fond of miners. They oftentimes made up the riff-raff around Diedremere, and her brothers had had more than one run-in with a drunken miner as they spent the occasional evening in the town's bar. Still, a young female miner was unique enough to make Audra curious as to Petra's background, despite her developed suspicion and distaste for the young woman's chosen livelihood.

"Elspeth," the other woman stated with nod, although Audra noted she was still staring in disbelief at Rowena's protruding ears," Of Inisad... I guess." Audra couldn't help but draw her brows together in disbelief the longer she looked at Elspeth. It wasn't her distinctly muscular body that threw her off (although at this point Audra had a small and irritating realization of how small she was amongst her current company, causing her to blow out a small heated puff of air). The farm girl noticed as the woman had stated her name that some of her teeth were prominently pointed, much like a dog. Then there was the unique shade of her large eyes - a deep amber with... slitted pupils? Audra shook her head slightly in confusion - she had no idea what could possibly cause such a unusual physical condition in a person, but perhaps that was what Rowena had meant when she had hinted at "unique abilities"... Audra hoped that wouldn't be the case for herself and had to suppress the urge to pat her body down to double check that she hadn't changed since her arrival in the academy, as if it were contagious.

Audra nodded in acknowledgement of both women's introductions. She didn't have anything else to say so, with a sigh, the farm girl was quite content to remain silent and observe. Her resolution was disrupted, however, as Petra addressed her, "So were you a cook for the miners? Diedremere is a small town so I'm sure we've had several encounters but I can't seem to place exactly when and where. Did you live in the heart of town?"

Audra unconciously wrinkled her nose slightly in disgust at the suggestion of being a cook for miners, but responded simply and without realization that she might come off offensively, "No, I've never been a cook for the miners. My father would have tanned my hide if I had been anywhere near any of the miner camps,seeing as how some of the characters around there are less than pleasant. Anyways, my family cares for our vast orchards," the girl couldn't help but feel a pang of pride in talking about her family's success, despite her eagerness to seek the world outside of that life, "best produce you'll find anywhere! Me and my brother's work everyday out there, tending the trees and land..." Audra bit her lip at the homesickness that hit her but like a gust of the east wind, but she remained composed and finished with a determined shrug, "But, I'm moving on from all of that now. Gotta find my place in the world besides farming all day, ya know what I mean?"

Meanwhile, in a grounds keeper's shed...

When Brande laid his eyes on the red that coated Zanna's hand, the same shade drained from his face, and he lost his air of wild enthusiasm.
"Right, right - Of course. Here."
Brande took a sharp glance out through the filth-encrusted windowpane, to assure himself they were now safe, before sheathing his blade with a metallic shhh... and swiping most of the clutter off of the work bench.
Then he spoke calmly, but there was a sort of weakness to his voice: Brande felt a painful sympathy for those locked into battles they couldn't overcome with a swift blade and a witty retort. Brande had lost much in his life, but he'd always had his health.
"It isn't much, but it should do."

He smiled at her, in a way he at least hoped was comforting. Then he reached into his bag, unfolded his shaving kit and fumbled about until he managed to take out his face cloth. It was a small patch of white, upon the corner of which was his own initials, B. A., written in a red thread. It looked fairly fancy, but its value was largely sentimental.
"And here, use this - quit ruining your dress."
He handed it over to her, "Will you be alright?"

Zanna sat on the work bench, still coughing. She hesitated before accepting the cloth.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes visibly watering a bit. She took a clear breath and it seemed her coughing fit had passed. Dabbing at the corners of her mouth, she sighed, "I'll be okay now... Sorry you had to see that."

Brande had motioned to say something along the lines of "I'm no stranger to blood," but caught it in his throat, upon realising it was hardly a comforting sentiment. He played it off as a cough of his own, into his balled fist.
He settled on simply, "Don't be - I'm sorry you had to go through it. How long have you been unwell?"

Zanna looked down at her hands, twisting Brande's handkerchief around her fingers, "Since I was very young. It's gotten much worse recently. I'm... not actually supposed to be out of bed." She attempted to nervously chuckle, but it broke into small cough.

A pang of guilt ran through him, and it stung like a sword-swipe across the cheek. She wasn't meant to be out of bed, but he had her running through the streets.
Then, he supposed, it was better that than in the bed of an orc. That might very well have killed her.
"Well then, we'll have to get you home, or at least to a nearby bed."
Brande contemplated that for a moment, and then glanced back over his shoulder, to the shack's door, "Is there anywhere near here where you can rest?"

"I'm pretty familiar with back alleys and I don't live too far from here. It shouldn't be too hard to--"

Zanna stood from the bench, absentmindedly patting the surface beside her as she moved. A look of alarm washed over her face and her eyes quickly swept the floor. "Agh... I left it back there," she frowned, running her hand down her cheek.

Brande quirked a brow, "Left what? Is it something important?"

"M-my slingshot...."

Brande stared at her for a moment in silence, as though he'd expected an answer with a bit more gravity behind it, and wasn't quite prepared to react to anything less.
"A... sling shot?", he asked, dazedly. Then it hit him, like a tomato to the chest.
"Ah - the slingshot you used to hit the orc, right?"

"Yeah...," Zanna's face flushed a deep shade of red, "It's... it's not actually mine. I borrowed it from someone."

He cast a glance over his shoulder, as though he were looking back into their joint past. In the excitement, he must have missed her dropping it.
"Well, they're gonna have to find a new one - or wait a couple days, and hope it isn't stolen."

Zanna was silent. Her eyes drifted off to the corner of the room as her mind obviously wandered, concern creasing her forehead. "I guess he's going to find out I borrowed it without asking," she chuckled uneasily, "And that I was out of bed...."

Brande felt himself sigh internally. Why had he thought it would be as easy as saying "too bad"?
He cursed quietly at his own quixotic drive to play the swashbuckling hero: "I- Don't look so worried, alright? We'll... figure something out."

Her eyes shifted to Brande and she stared at him. Hard. "Why did you help me out back there?" she said suddenly. Her voice was accompanied by a powerful gust of wind that caused the ivy leaves surrounding the shack to beat softly against the dirty windows.

Startled wasn't the word, nor was bewildered. Brande suddenly felt as though he were in trouble, for doing what he at least believed to be the right thing.
"A... A swordsman's code. My father's. Why else, if not to uphold virtue, amica?"

Her eyes softened into a pitying look, though whether it was pity intended for Brande or herself was less clear. "Yes, but... I'm the one that shot the tomato at that orc. You didn't need to cause yourself so much trouble."

Brande turned his head towards the dim light of the window, and for an instant he was silent, introspective. The grim glow of sun on dirt cast lines about his face. Why had he leapt to her defence?
"The orcs have taken enough. The tomato was your small act of rebellion - this was one of mine."

"Rebellion...," Zanna pensively bit her lip as she approached the door, waiting for Brande, "You could call it that, I guess..."

“Raine. A pleasure.” Randall said with a smile before returning to observe the exchange between the boy and his rescuer, curious as to what had been the cause of such a fuss. Raine produced the pouch, and handed it to the boy, who revealed it to be medicine for his sister. Randall looked away, frowning. It seemed to be a never-ending cycle for the poor, having to steal such necessary and basic things so they and their loved ones could survive. There simply wasn’t enough to go around for anyone else, and like the laws of physics, it was a constant that could never change.

He espied the well-shingled and polished glass façade of a mansion towering over the houses the next street over, regarding it as a blight. The masters of that domain probably had enough to go around to house and feed twenty families while children, sometimes literally meters from their doorstep, starved. It was a world Randall wanted to change, but no matter how many nobles he robbed how much food he shared, it amounted to throwing a stone in the water and hoping the ripples never faded.

Turning back to the boy and Raine, who were concluding their agreement. “Ah, the Caribou. Not a bad place to grab something to eat. Tell you two what, go help his sister out and I’ll keep an eye open for guards while seeing if Rosie still knows how to make a good mutton. After that, you’re on your own, I have some business to attend to.” Randall said, gesturing to the inn. “After you, little man.”