There might be some emo-porn in the beginning, but as soon as she meets someone else it should end pretty quickly. I'm not all that into writing miserable stuff and I might end up giving her some ray of sunshine just to get something new to do. After all, writing depressing stuff all the time is pretty depressing. Hopefully I'll be able to weave her strong will to fight through the pain and determination to make something of herself into the posts so that it won't become too emo.

[hider=The outcast post]In the rain everything looked grey and bleak. She stood beneath a mighty oak tree and tried her hardest to enjoy the shelter it gave her. Every now and then a raindrop would find its way through the maze of leaves and branches overhead and drop down on her clothes. But it didn’t matter. She was always cold now, cold and trapped, might as well be wet too. 
Back home there was no walls, no forest, no hills. You could see for miles around you. Some mornings she had left her bed early, slipped into her lover’s kaftan and left their tent just to see the sun rise an almost impossible distance away. The air would still be cold, like every damn day in the outlands, and she’d feel like there was still magic in the world, like in the stories of the world before…

She watched the road in silence for a few minutes until she was satisfied that no one was following her, and she turned away from it. 
Roads were like double-edged swords in her mind. They made travelling easy, and she could easily walk twice as far on a proper road than on the desert sand in a day. On the other hand other people had found out the same thing and at any given time someone could come. Sometimes the strangers didn’t bother to look, sometimes their eyes filled with hate and they wanted to fight. It had taken its toll on her. 
She kept walking for a little while and found a small clearing where she sat down. Tired, exhausted, but there was still work to be done and little time. You can rest when the sand claims you.

Despite the rain she managed to get a fire going and sat close to it for warmth. Her blanket was spread out under a tree much like the one by the road, and in a little while she’d retire to it and try to sleep. A sound from behind caught her ear and she turned around quickly.
“Who’s there?” She asked without thinking, and regretted it immediately. In the Gurgan outlands no one understood Gor. She repeated the question in the outsider-language, but it was too late. If her native language hadn’t revealed her identity, surely her brown skin would do the job. Silence. Seconds turned into minutes and she grasped the shaft of her wooden weapon a little bit tighter for every time she blinked. 

Footsteps.
She brought up her staff and got into a fighting position. All her weight on her right leg, the left leg slightly in front, only her toes touching the ground. Her right hand gripped the shaft tight and held it at her hip while the left hand held it loosely at arms length in front of her chest. The staff had made a swooshing sound when she got ready, after that only the soft pat-pat of raindrops could be heard.
The leaves on the bush in front of her started to rattle and she got ready to strike. A red and white face poked out, it was furry and looked almost like a dog, yet different somehow. 
She relaxed her stance and looked at the small creature with a smile. 
“Oh woe is me, such a horrible demon has come to plague the fallen Caz dan Ro further.” 
She spoke in Gor, for she was once again convinced that she was all alone… 

She put out the fire and went to bed. Even though she was going to sleep she held her weapon in her hand. As she closed her eyes the image of a pale-skinned woman returned to her mind like so many nights before. Her face twisted into a mask of fear, surprise and agony. How she loathed that woman, not only for being an outsider, but for costing her everything. She fell asleep shivering, cold, wet and alone. 
[/hider]