Oirwn Herringbone the Moonswept Poetess of Sapphire Dreams, High Herald of the Eternal Star

Role

Chapter 27

Oirwn often felt responsible for the feelings and well-being of others. When
her dearest friends hurt, she did her best to cheer them, but it was the plight
of poor Flackerbuz that confounded Oirwn the most. He was a peculiar Svirf,
and very much in love with another of Oirwn's friends, a paladin of Rayihn named
Rosaline. Rosaline had no interest whatsoever in the Svirfneblin chef, but
Flackerbuz was too swept up in the paladin's beauty, and far too unaware of his
own value to ever let his obsession go, even when she let him down time and time
and time again. It irked Oirwn. She was irked that Rosaline seemed to do every-
thing she could to hurt Flackerbuz. She was irked that Flackerbuz was too much
of a stubborn brat to listen to reason and find someone who'd appreciate him.

It reminded Oirwn a little, just a little, of her trouble so long ago with Leric.
Leric was never coming back to the Heralds now, and Oirwn felt like a little piece
of her had gone missing with him. She understood why Flackerbuz felt so hurt, but
Oirwn, for the good of everyone around her, decided to channel that pain into
poetry and dance. Leric would never have wanted her to be miserable over him,
which is why she never pressed the matter of loving him in the first place.

And then there was the Marshall of the Fortress, Tanion Sunlash. For some time
he had been visiting with Oirwn, asking for a garment here and there. It took
Oirwn a while to figure out that he might be piling up these requests as an
excuse to see her. The notion made Oirwn smile, but she and the Marshall were
so different in their views. Leric, when he was still around, disliked the man
so much for his unwillingness to accept that dark artifacts and magic ought to
be studied for the good of the Light. Know your enemy, Oirwn thought, long
before she was ever asked to guard any secrets. Still, Oirwn found the Marshall's
excitement contagious when he spoke of the building of the new Golden Tower. He
even showed her the site where it would someday stand. His passion for his Lord
and his mission shook her a little, and she began to wonder whether or not she
fancied him.

Role

Chapter 26

"Tell me of your exploits of late, Iderah. You know, I barely ever see you home
any more."

Oirwn took a long drag from the pipe Fyvall offered and considered the bard's
request for a several minutes.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm afraid of anything any more," she mused, and let out a
long ribbon of smoke.

"Why's that?" asked Fyvall, intrigued.

"Well, I went to the moon, for one. For another, I know someone on high watches
over me, and I am blessed with her mark. The Heralds are thriving more than I've
ever seen them. And I'm pretty sure I've outlived everyone I was ever running
from."

"Pardon? You went to the moon?"

Oirwn chuckled. "It really has been a long time, old friend. I'm sorry I never
visit much these days." She told him the story of the storm that led herself,
Aeswren, and Oryntohr to the pegasus in Arial City. She told Fyvall of patching
up the creature's wing, and how it allowed her to ride so swiftly to the surface
of the moon. She spoke of the goddesses who met her there, Lady Amaranthe, and
flying high in the lunar sky, Lyria who wept a single sapphire tear upon hearing
Oirwn's plea for the safe return of Captain Neltouda. The Captain had wandered
lost for many months on the lunar surface, her memories stolen away by the
mystery of the dark side of the moon. The goddesses pitied Oirwn, who felt
responsible for the Captain's loss, and with mercy, guided the Lady Tempest to
Oirwn, who coaxed her back down to Thera. When finally brought to the helm of
her ship, the goddess' memories flooded back to her, but she was forever changed
by her time upon the moon.

"And so was I," said Oirwn. "Going that far, willing to do whatever great task
was needed to bring the Lady home to her faithful safely... It became apparent
there had truly been a change in my spirit. I found my forgiveness, and the
Light found its home in my soul."

Role

Chapter 25

Clouds formed in the sky, the beginning of a storm, and blue lightning cracked,
high in the clouds. The light was followed by a whirlwind that descended from
the clouds and touched the ground behind the Inn. Suddenly it made sense to
Oirwn why the Captain would want to be out in the open. The winds picked the
goddess up and she laughed the whole time as she was propelled far into the sky.
Near the moon, a faint light flickered, and that was the last glimpse any got
of the Captain.

Oirwn set her sundial firmly on the ground and convinced Flackerbuz that they
should keep a vigil over it. Soon after, Aeswren joined in the watch, and the
three of them babbled on in awe of the storm, joked around about moon people
and cheese, talked fighting dragons, and (once Elucien arrived) sculpting
artworks from ice. It was a merry time, for a while, with a handful of mortals
smiling in awe. And then strange dreams began. First it was Hael who slept and
saw a wraith, a woman with empty eyes, without the fury of the storm. Aeswren
heard his recollection and fled swiftly to the Thundering Maiden. Oirwn hefted
the sundial onto her back and she and Flackerbuz followed.

On the ship, Flackerbuz napped, tired from the long ride on top of Oirwn's head.
He too had a dream, much like the one Aeswren was told of by Hael. Soon after
exhaustion caught up with Aeswren and Oirwn and they slumbered as well. They
too had the same dream.

When Oirwn woke, panic set in. She felt somehow responsible for the danger
the goddess might now be in. Oirwn asked Grutiv how high the Maiden could fly.

The deckhand told Oirwn that only the Captain could fly the Thundering Maiden,
and when they told him they suspected the Captain might be in danger, he offered
advice. He assured them that Neltouda was fine. Part of her heart was within
the ship, and if the ship's heart still sparked, the Captain's did too.

Oirwn asked him where the best place on the ship to put the beacon might be, and
he advised to climb as high as could be, up into the crows nest. So they did,
and they kept their vigil in the violent wind, as close to the sky as they could
be.

Role

Chapter 24

It wasn't long before Oirwn and the goddess spoke again, and she told the
Captain of the strange sundial. The goddess seemed intrigued, and they went
to Lord Vindor's and purchased such a timepiece. Afterward, they walked
among the spirits beyond the celestial flames and discussed its importance.

"I don't know what it was about the painting," Oirwn told the Captain, "For
some reason the sundial just struck me as interesting!"

"Little bit o' sun even on the moon," the goddess said. "Figure they need
each other."

"Don't all the heavenly bodies need each other?" Oirwn asked, remembering a
book about the stars and constellations from the Lyceum.

"I teach meh crew that all souls bein' connected," said the Captain, and she
continued on, telling Oirwn to visualize it as a dew-covered spider web,
glistening in the sun.

"Well, seems the hunt fer Lyria be takin' ter a new turn," said the goddess.

"You suppose?" asked Oirwn, surprised.

"Can't be sure what gonna happen, but should be damn well excitin'. Let's
go out in the open."

Out they went, the Captain first and Oirwn almost at her heels, puzzling
over what strange plans the goddess had laid.

"Nay ter sure what a sundial could bring," she said. "Thinkin' it could help
mehself find meh way back?"

"It could!" Oirwn encouraged, "You could leave it as a sort of landmark, some-
thing to follow home. A strange beacon, but something you'd know for sure was
a good guidestone."

"Aye, seems dat dere bein' important ter remember. Yanoreth was bein' a Lady
o' the moon...an' time. Yer thinkin' time bein' different der? O' kept the
same wit the movements o' the sun?"

"Well... I don't know," Oirwn said. "I mean, if there's a sundial on the
moon... It's not as if a different sun shines there...right?" She glanced to
the Captain, hoping for some sort of affirmation.

"Aye, course," said the goddess, then suddenly she clapped her hands. Sparks
began to fly around her, and soon a cloud of ozone rose into the air.

"Always import ter start small, eh?" asked the goddess, almost mischievously
Oirwn thought.

Role

Chapter 17

The night was dark, and Oirwn used it to her advantage. The moon was barely
a sliver of light, and the stars struggled to peek through the low clouds
overhead that heralded the coming of a storm. Oirwn hoisted herself up to
the top of the stone wall that held Horatia Felport captive. As she teetered
precariously, she took a moment to scout the whereabouts of the estate's
night watch. One guard was stationed at the gate, and another watched the
path to the house with a keen eye. If the distance was just right, they'd
be no trouble at all. Oirwn shrugged off her heavy cloak and set it atop the
wall. Underneath it all, Oirwn was barely clothed at all. She'd fashioned
the costume after something she'd seen one of the poor slave girls wearing
when she was just a little girl. With a deft leap, Oirwn landed on the grass
and strode into the light. The guards took no time in noticing her, and as
they approached to apprehend her, Oirwn sang the lullabye her guild taught.
The men hit the ground without so much as a word of protest.

"Now here's the hard part," she whispered to herself. Oirwn had no idea who
might still be awake in the house, or what she might have to do to subdue
them. Her research had told her the master of this pitiful tract of land
kept several women slaves. Oirwn hoped that her outfit would allow her to
walk through his home with little notice.

With her lockpicks, she made short work of the front door, slipped inside,
and held her breath. The house was silent and dark. No one awake, she
assumed, and began her search. It didn't take long for Oirwn to find them.
Three girls, Horatia Felport included, were confined to one tiny attic room.
They looked up at her in surprise when she entered, and all three gave a
dejected sigh.

Role

Chapter 9

Author's Note: This is going to mark the beginning of a story arc in which
Oirwn attempts to redeem herself for sins of the past. I understand the
difficulty involved in an alignment change and am ready for the challenge.
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Good men. There are so many good men; so many who had nothing ever to gain
from Oirwn, yet their goodness touched her anyway. It is hard to forget the
Light when the sun still rises in the morning. It is hard to forget one's
sins when its warmth touches one's soul. It is hard to forget the need to
be forgiven when one finds oneself falling for a good man.

Oirwn remembered, as she had every day, in chilling detail, the events of
that morning, the morning she murdered a good man and doomed a good woman
to resume a life of slavery.

Kam and Knicht waited with Oirwn, masked by the shade, at the corner of the
market. Horatia Felport would be approaching them from behind very soon,
and they all had to get their timing just right. When she passed, Kam and
Knicht would grab and silence her, and Oirwn would stroll casually away, as
though she'd been walking there the entire time.

The moment came, the plan succeeded, and the two thugs dragged Horatia away
to be sold. And that is where everything went wrong.

Oirwn continued through the market without making a single purchase and
walked down a quiet alley toward her predetermined checkpoint. She never
made it there.

Cold steel pressed against Oirwn's throat, and a strong arm bound Oirwn's
own arms firmly to her sides.

"Do not call out," he whispered, low into her ear. "Tell me where they have
taken my wife, and I will let you go."

Oirwn shuddered, remembering Atavia's threat from two days ago.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"Don't lie," Grigori whispered. "She warned me this might happen to her,
and I have been watching. Your trade is over, so help me. Now, where is
my wife?"

Oirwn thought fast and stupid, then pretended to faint. As Grigori moved
to lay her out on the ground, Oirwn relieved him of his sword and, without
even thinking about it, stabbed wildly.

Grigori blinked at her in surprise and stumbled back. The sword wobbled
comically from his chest, right where Oirwn imagined his heart would be.
Grigori fell onto his side gracelessly as blood poured out of him and
pooled up in front of Oirwn's feet.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, and then she ran.

Role

Chapter 10

It's funny how a little careless flirting, carried on through stubborness,
can simmer in a mind and heart and grow into actual affection. Oirwn
found a challenge in Leric, and she liked it because nothing is worth
doing if it doesn't require any effort. He was two sides of the same coin,
often the playful fool, and just as often the obsessed researcher of things
strange and arcane. The thief's appetite for knowledge seemed to greatly
disturb other lightwalkers, who forsaw him going down a path of destruction.
Oirwn found herself easily taking Leric's side in the matter, however,
perhaps because she too believed in the preservation of history, the discovery
of knowledge. She was a Herald, after all. But it was more than that. She
found herself delighting in his excitement and felt a strange ache in her heart
when his thoughts were troubled.

And so the flirting continued.

Role

Chapter 11

The nightmares of Horatia and Grigori Felport's fates haunted Oirwn, and she
did her best to make the right choices to atone for things in her everyday life,
but Oirwn sensed her efforts might not be enough. That was how a chance meeting
with the Cardinal of the Golden Sun, Illanthos, became a discussion on Oirwn's
path toward seeking the Light's forgiveness.

"There are things I want to be forgiven for...to make up for," Oirwn told the
Healer, "But I'm not sure where to start."

The Cardinal was intrigued, and he brushed a few strands of hair from his face
in a motion that seemed almost as if it would help him listen to her better.

"What was done, cannot be undone," he told her, "but with guidance and
dedication, might be atoned for."

Oirwn was pleased to hear this. She had hoped to find in an Acolyte of the
Golden Sun, someone who would not chastise or look down upon her, but offer
concrete advice and a goal she could aim toward. She told Illanthos her story,
about her childhood as an orphan slave, and about how a knack for imitation had
gotten her on the mercenary's payroll instead of being sold off to distant lands
as a slave herself. She told him the story of how she fled that life, and
how she was still hunted, and reminded him to keep his voice down, lest her old
captors track her down.

"I find slavekeeping a most deplorable distasteful practice. The folley of youth,
and the blindness of desperation, I might sympathize with, however."

"I don't really know," said Oirwn, "It was all I'd ever known. When you're a
child, and someone with authority tells you to do something, most children just
do it."

Continued in next chapter...

Role

Chapter 12

"You do it, even if you do not wish to or have any reason to," Illanthos prompted.
He seemed to be trying to get at just why Oirwn wouldn't have rebelled sooner.

"I had a good reason. They would've sold me off somewhere worse if I didn't...
This trade, it was in women. Do you see what I mean?"

The Cardinal nodded and said, "I did have my suspicions." He then continued,
"This misdeed is one that no quantity of flame or steel might rectify."

"I didn't suppose so," said Oirwn, "That's why I wanted to speak to an Acolyte."

After a moment's contemplation, Illanthos advised, "Seek out those who were as
you - desperate for subsistance. Driven to the ragged edge of survival, and
readily turning to a darker path that their basic needs be met. Steer them from
the path of regrets you yourself feel. Let your gift of life and hope inspire a
hundredfold gifts in turn, as they pay it forward."

"Be proof that there is something better out there?" asked Oirwn, smiling at the
Elf.

"Rightly so," he said, "Teach them a better life. They might be suspicious at
first, but be persistent. Offer them unconditional warmth and mercy. In time
they will turn to you as plants seek the sun, and flourish under your
ministrations. By this, might you seek atonement for misdeeds of your past."

"Thank you," Oirwn said, "It's good to be guided when you feel a bit lost."

"The lost who are found might teach the way to others...Just as I have done
with you," said the Cardinal, "But though the way may be cleared, I've not your
feet- only you may walk it."

Role

Chapter 13

Illanthos had told Oirwn to travel to places such as Arkham and Seantryn Modan
to try her hand at helping others. Spending too much time too far East was
risky business, and Oirwn knew this undertaking would involve a great investment
of time. She wandered around Seantryn Modan for a while, investigating the
shops and the city's basic layout before turning her attention to the residents.
Just off the plaza, a young human boy caught her eye. She sidled up to him and
offered a swig of her whiskey. The boy gawked at her as if she were crazy.
Oirwn monologued at the kid for a bit, telling him about herself and how she
once was a lot like him, on the wrong side of happy and prosperous. He looked
the other direction for most of it, trying to ignore here and scout out targets.
"There are people who will help," she told him, before leaving. "I'll be coming
back."

And she did, every so often, to check up on him. He never would speak, and Oirwn
supposed this is what Illanthos meant when he told Oirwn that her efforts would
be met with suspicion. She told the boy she would help him find a legitimate job
somewhere in the city, somewhere he could learn a trade, and turn his life around.

Oirwn talked to Leric about her efforts, hoping a different, but still warmhearted,
perspective might offer more insight.

"It's more than just trying to help one person," he mused.

Oirwn murmered a noise of assent, then offered, "It's about making the right
decisions yourself."

"And a mind set, I think," said Leric, "To help others without expecting anything."

"Well, that's the easy bit," Oirwn said, with a soft smile. "It sort of comes
naturally to me these days. Everyone's always been so kind to me. Always. It's
contagious."

"Good," said Leric. "That's a start. Thera would be better if people just tried
to be a little decent and understanding." He lowered his voice and continued,
"Unfortunately, not everyone believes that, or cares."

"And that's why it's SO important for those who do, to keep at it," Oirwn finished
for him.

Role

Chapter 14

Dear Coxan,
I am writing to let you know that I am settled and doing well. Much more
capable of caring for myself than I was when you saw me last. I have a favor
to ask of you, if you are willing. I need to find HER. I need to help her.
You know who I mean. Please don't scold, old friend. Just send what clues
you might have my way.
With love,
Oirwn
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oirwn,
You're daft. This is folly. You're gonna get yourself killed. Quit being
stupid and sending me letters.
-Coxan
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Coxan,
So you don't have any clues, then?
xxoo
Oirwn
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oirwn,
I know who she was sold to, aye.
-Coxan
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Coxan,
Spit it out!
<3
Oirwn
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oirwn,
I don't know what you've got planned girl, but I'm not gonna be able to save
your life a second time. Just use this map. The house I marked is where
her record of sale ends. I don't know if she's still there or not. It's
pretty well guarded, too.
-Coxan
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Coxan,
If this is the last time you hear from me, I just wanted to say thank you.
You helped me so much, and now I've got to do the same for someone else.
You're the best and I love you like you were my own dad.
Love,
Oirwn

Role

Chapter 15

Ouch, how it stung, Oirwn remembered. Hearing those words from the man whose
affections she'd tried to attain for so long.

"I like you pretty well...but I'm sure you know that," he told her one night
in the garden behind the Eternal Star, "But its mostly as a friend, pretty
sure."

Of course, the thief had always played hard to get, but that Oirwn could take
as a challenge, a dare to just keep trying, for one day her machinations
might bear fruit. But for Leric to finally admit to Oirwn that she wasn't
getting anywhere was something of a change. In Oirwn's head, after Leric
let loose those damning words, eons seemed to pass, but she spoke up almost
instantly.

"Unrequited. That's the word. I am sorry I've tormented you."

It was in those moments, in those long millenia inside Oirwn's head that she
realized there was nothing she wouldn't do for this man. That must be what
time and familiarity does to a little flirt. It grows up, it matures, and it
turns into something wholly surprising. And so, since it was already trouble
enough for Leric to tell her this, and because he was so concerned that he
might upset her anyway, Oirwn decided that she would let him go.

He continued, "A while ago, someone told me they thought I was the man they
wanted to grow old with. Not you, I don't think you ever said it that way."

"That would've been unfair if I had," she replied with a helpless shrug. A
while ago, Oirwn wouldn't have said such a thing. She'd told him, in a huff
one day that he needed to make a decision about all the women who were
apparently pursuing him. She told him to choose, or at least figure out
what it was that HE wanted. So he had chosen, one of the other girls (and
hearing that stung, too), and it had all backfired on him.

"Yes, so we both feel pretty awful," he told her. "You are still like...my
best friend. Which I know probably still hurts to know."

Oirwn offered a slight smile before saying, "That'll do, Leric. And I will
never betray or hurt you, that much I can promise. I will always be your
friend, even if I can't be more than that. And yes. It does hurt, since
we're being honest. But not so much that I'm going to let it come between
us."

And what Oirwn didn't say was, "Because I think I might actually love you,
and that's so new and wonderful and ridiculous that I couldn't stand it if
we didn't stay, even if only as friends, always close."

Role

Chapter 16

It was a beautiful day on the mountain, at least as beautiful as one can be
when you spend it traversing a forest infested with the evil undead. With
two paladins on either side, Oirwn felt herself on a high of righteous fury.
Rosaline, her friend and a holy knight of the Lady Rayihn, had asked Oirwn
to this mountain cleansing endeavor, along with a Dwarf that Oirwn hadn't
met before, named Dorjooma.

The Dwarven paladin strengthened their crusade a few fights in, and it was
at this point he realized a grave mistake had been made. He held up his
weapon, stopping Oirwn from following him further, then explained that he
did not travel with those whose hearts were not fully bathed in the Light.
For a proud moment, Oirwn thought he might understand when she explained
that she herself was on such a path, but the holy knight shot her down.
Rosaline came to Oirwn's defense as well, but Dorjooma was firm. He ex-
plained that if Oirwn truly sought the Light, his lady's graces would have
already smiled upon her. With more grace than she thought she would ever
have been able to muster in her life, Oirwn bid them farewell and climbed
back down the mountain. Hot tears brimmed in her eyes and she trekked
toward the reaches north of Voralian City, stopping in front of the
Fortress for but a moment to remind herself of all those who DID understand.
North of the city, Oirwn climbed halfway up the waterfall on Voralia's
tears where the crashing of the water almost drowned out the thudding of
her heart. There, she prayed to the gods of Light for the resolve to prove
to those like Dorjooma, who would find her wanting in spite of her efforts,
that she was truly dedicated in her redemptive journey.

Afterward, Oirwn went looking for Leric, and explained to him what happened.
Leric seemed more than a little disappointed that Dorjooma would be so
judgmental, but Oirwn told him perhaps the encounter needed to happen. It
could be that she wasn't serious enough in her quest, and it was high time
someone forced her to truly rise to the challenge.

That night, with her newfound skills as a Seamstress of the Eternal Star,
Oirwn began work on a disguise for her her trip back to her long forgotten
home to see if there was anything she could do for poor Horatia Felport.

Role

Chapter 18

"You must be the new one," Horatia said. "We heard you'd be coming soon.
If you want to stay alive, don't act up like Nastura did."

Oirwn ignored her and latched the door behind herself.

"Don't do that," urged Horatia, "You're going to get us beaten."

"Do you want to leave?" asked Oirwn.

The other two girls who had not spoken nodded emphatically, but Horatia
just cast Oirwn a doleful look.

"I'm so sorry, dear, but the only way any of us ever leave here is in an
urn. And that's if he liked you."

"I'm not the new girl," said Oirwn. "The guards' minds are lulled into
sleep, and the house is silent. I have been all through it. If you wish
to go, now is your one and only chance."

Without a word, the two girls, who appeared to be twins in the light, un-
latched the attic door and fled on silent feet to freedom. Horatia, how-
ever, remained seated with her hands folded together in her lap.

"I'm not leaving," she said, simply.

"Why not?" asked Oirwn, who was growing ever more aware of what precious
little time she had.

"Grigori is dead. I'd have killed myself, but to meet him in the after-
life with all my sins upon my shoulders... No. There is no point. I
will stay here."

"Right," was the only word Oirwn could manage to force through her
clenched teeth. She took a moment to breathe and then sang the sweetest
lullabye she could muster right into Horatia's face. The woman was
asleep in seconds and Oirwn caught her over her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, DEAR, but you're coming with me whether or not you want
to."

Oirwn left by the front gate. Moments later, the sound of the two guards
arguing with each other over who fell asleep on duty rang out in the
night.

Role

Chapter 19

When Horatia woke up, she was wedged into an ancient armchair in the back
of a Vistani vardo.

"Where am I?" she demanded.

"Safe," said Oirwn. "I made a few friends here who want to help you."

"Take me back. There's nothing for me outside those walls."

"See, I used to think like that too, and then I found out there's always
something." Oirwn lowered her voice to a pleading whisper, "You just
have to want to try."

"My husband is dead and I am defiled. You want me to try for what,
exactly?" said Horatia, her tone cold and angry.

"For yourself, of course. You won't be hurt anymore here, and once you
get back on your feet, you can do whatever you like. There's a whole
new continent waiting for you if you sail out of Arkham. They won't
find you there. They never could find me."

"Why are you helping me?" Horatia asked, her tone of voice softening with
the realization that she might truly be free.

Oirwn remembered Coxan's words from so many years ago. "I can't make it
right for her, but maybe I can for you," is what he'd said.

"Because I can make it right for both of us," she told Horatia. "Now,
will you try?"

After a long pause, Horatia finally spoke. "Yes. Yes, I will try. When
someday I meet my husband again in the afterlife, I want him to see that
I have lived!"

Role

Chapter 20

It had been a long day for Oirwn. She had been searching for answers to help
the Order of the Temple of Loch Grynmear with their strange demon problem.
Oirwn was very tired, and she decided to sneak a nap in one of the comfy beds
she happened upon in the order's quarters and quickly fell into dream.

In her dreamscape, Oirwn saw constellations too many to number, and a feminine
voice singing in the distance, accompanied by a tambourine. The voice told
Oirwn, "To seek redemption, you must follow your own path..." Oirwn looked up
at the sky and saw a unique star, gleaming sapphire and shaped like a teardrop.
The singing voice began to fade away and whispered, "Seek the teardrop, and you
will find your way..."

Oirwn woke then, and she was puzzled. The sapphire teardrop was something she
knew of from books in the Celestial Lyceum. Why had such a strange dream come
to her? Should she follow it? Oirwn's mind was too swept up to continue her
search at the Loch, so she promised Acolyte Nouttin to return soon, and made
her way to the Celestial Lyceum. Oirwn pored over the books there, and finally
found herself staring at a prayer, written for the goddess Lyria ages ago, by
Celebeleni Ceredenti.

"Perhaps Celebeleni would have advice for me," considered Oirwn, and she left
the Lyceum to speak to the spirit who now spent her days stargazing beyond the
Celestial Flame. Oirwn's friend, and once-Herald, Brindlebum accompanied her
to speak to Celebeleni.

Oirwn told Celebeleni of her dream, and finding the prayer, and asked the
druidess what she might advise.

"You know Lyria always held a mirror," said Celebeleni, trying hard to recall
events from long before her death.

"When you pass through the flames the world spins around you so quickly... the
past and present and future all melded together."

Celebeleni was silent for several moments as she pondered.

"But her sister, Amaranthe... As it says here. I try to remember writing these
words," she trailed off with a smile and gazed up at the stars with a distant
gaze. "Have you seen her?"

"The goddess Amaranthe?" asked Oirwn. "No, I have not. Although I've been to
her temple. Cgadi said she and I should meet, and I just... wanted to take a
look, but I was too nervous to pray."

Celebeleni turned her gaze back to Oirwn and spoke again, "To pray... well, that
is one thing. To pray in style as is in this poem is another. I can see why
the gypsy dancer would come to you. You have the look of one that moves with
grace."

"Do you think I should go to the Lady Amaranthe?" asked Oirwn.

"I think this points to that," said Celebeleni, indicating the manuscript Oirwn
had copied of the prayer to Lyria. "If anyone would know of the gypsy it is her."

Role

Chapter 21

Several quiet evenings of reflection were spent in the Temple of the Harvest Moon,
but no answers made themselves apparent to Oirwn. As Oirwn pondered in the temple
one evening, the priestess Aeswren, faithful of Captain Neltouda, contacted Oirwn.
She came to sit in the temple for a time and listened to Oirwn talk of her search
for atonement. Soon after, Captain Neltouda beckoned Oirwn to the celestial flames,
for a private audience. The Captain talked of those who pass beyond the flames,
and how the passing seems to make it harder to remember one's life.

"Oh," said Neltouda, as if struck by a sudden thought. "I heard yer were havin' a
hard time. So I fixed yer up somethin'..."

The goddess handed Oirwn a small sewing kit with her name carved on the lid. It
was filled with yarn and needles, and a few other supplies.

"Oh, thank you, Captain. It's lovely!" was all Oirwn could exclaim. In this moment
she remembered this goddess had already given her so much, asking for so little in
return. Oirwn began to wonder where her search was truly leading.

"Captain... A while ago, you said something to me... About on your ship, you teach
of the rhythm of life? Do you suppose I should be following breadcrumbs like I am?"

With a crooked smile, Neltouda told her, "Well, thinkin' I'm 'bout ter give yer
almost half a loaf. So breadcrumbs be workin' out fer yer."

The Captain spoke of Oirwn's search for greater covictions and asked if Oirwn was
certain she would meet her potential by finding them. Oirwn assured the goddess
that her efforts would not cease.

"Then I'm willin' ter help yer out. Nay so much cause I care iffin' someone runs
wit dem Scion types o' them Fortress types... But more like I want ter help yer
spirit personal like."

Role

Chapter 22

Oirwn was continually amazed by the Captain's faith in her, by the goddess'
desire to see Oirwn reach her potential. Neltouda began to teach Oirwn of the
forces and some of poetry, which she said was Oirwn's spiritual link to the
mysterious Lyria. Then she talked of the moon, and the sway it holds over poets
and the spirits behind its dark side. They see us, the Captain claimed, but then
told Oirwn she didn't know much of the moon.

"Mayhaps I could take mehself a trip," the Captain mused, and Oirwn smiled.
"Course, danger even fer mehself an' all. Things like deception an' necromancy
bein' part o' the moon ter. No tellin' what sorts o' spirits an' lost godlings
gone ter rest der."

Oirwn thought about it, wondering about the secrets the moon hid, when the goddess
suddenly changed the subject. "I ever tell yer my favorite part o' the storm?"

"No, you never did," Oirwn said, listening.

"Bein' the calm." And the Captain described it, the calm. The light and the
scent and the shivers and the sound. Oirwn's mind reeled a little.

"Thinkin' I'll spend a bit o' time der," said Neltouda, "An' prepare fer the
moon."

"I'd like to see it," Oirwn told her, "The moon. Is that silly?"

"Course nay silly. Seems it bein' a grand idear. But I can't tell yer how much
danger bein' der. The unknown an' all. A realm o' spirits an' forces I nay
understand well..." warned Neltouda.

"Ah, but that's one pursuit I've grown to like," Oirwn told the goddess, thinking
fondly of things Leric had once shown her. "Making the unknown, known."

"Aye," said the Captain, "Somethin' close ter me own soul. Another reason I be
willin' ter go." After a pause, she continued, "Iffin' yer find out more 'bout
the moon... Thinkin' I'd like ter know, aye?"

Moments later, the Captain was swept away by otherworldly waves, leaving Oirwn
to ponder how she might learn more of the moon.

Role

Chapter 23

Aeswren puzzled over Oirwn, wanting to know what she and the Captain had spoken
about, as well as how she could help Oirwn in her search for redemption. Being
a Healer of the Fortress, helping others to see the Light more fully was a
passion of hers.

"The question is...what can I do to assist you in this?" Aeswren asked.

Oirwn thought for a moment and told her, "Go with me to where the moon touches
the land."

When they arrived, splashing their way up the river of time, the pair was met
by an odd cat. It looked at Oirwn and said, "The river of time does not care
whose memories it washes away, Oirwn."

Oirwn and Aeswren puzzled over their surroundings and the water cat for a few
moments, and Aeswren pointed out a spot of light, glowing behind the waterfall.

"I've thought and thought about how to climb up," said Oirwn, who had visited
this place before, long before she ever thought she'd need to learn about the
moon. "I've heard there is a library, or something like it, beyond the falls."

The water cat looked up at her and said, "You may visit the library, but do
not tarry there." Water suddenly overtook Oirwn and she washed up in the
center of a cozy library.

"Oh. Well that's true." Oirwn told Aeswren once the priestess arrived beyond
the falls as well. The pair poked around the library for a few moments,
pondering the texts and artwork, and Oirwn's eyes finally fell on something
that struck her. A painting, entitled "The Surface of the Moon" caught Oirwn's
attention and held it. There was something about the sundial that stirred
Oirwn, and she could not understand why. She resolved to tell the Captain
about it.

Role

Chapter 6

"Drink this," coaxed the bard, "It will warm you up."

Oirwn took a sip from the steaming mug he offered, then coughed it out
violently.

"It burns!"

"That's why it will warm you up. Drink."

Oirwn drank, forcing the liquid down her own throat. The two sat in
silence, and apart from her slurping, the only other sound was a rhythmic
ticking, not the clock, but the bard's metronome.

"What's your name?" asked Oirwn, as the alcohol's effects began to take
hold.

"I'm Fyvall," he almost whispered, peering curiously at her. "And you
are?"

"Ide... Oirwn. I'm Oirwn."

"I see," said Fyvall as he picked up his fiddle to draw the bow lazily
over its strings.

"I don't know how to repay you," Oirwn said, setting her mug to the side
and rising from the mountain of blankets that Fyvall had wrapped around
her.

"No need," the bard assured. "Good deeds will move forward on their own."

"Not where I'm from," Oirwn said, and sat down on his lap. With deft
fingers, she straightened his shirt collar. "Where I'm from, you can't get
something for nothing."

"Then tell me a story," Fyvall snorted impatiently and shifted in his chair
so that Oirwn nearly fell to the floor. "Tell me about the bruises on your
neck."

Role

Chapter 8

For some, being settled means being restless, and after Oirwn established
herself in Galadon, she found herself haunted by whispers of the poem she
once composed, drunk on whiskey and despair. The Inn of the Eternal Star
offered haven from these thoughts. There were good people, good drinks,
and...something else. Could it be that Oirwn belonged here?

"There's more to me than the sum of my parts," she told Fyvall one day, as
they shared a tin of pipeweed tobacco on his back porch. "I've done not
much more than take for my entire life. So many have helped me. So many
have been kind. I'm starting to think that I could also give."

Fyvall chuckled for a moment and took a long draw off his pipe. He blew
several smoke rings which hovered in midair for a bit before the wind
blew them into disarray. "I told you good deeds will move forward on their
own. So. What will you do?"

"Well, thanks to Atavia, I know I'm not an awful actress. And thanks to
you, I'm brave enough to try my hand at poetry... I want to prove to the
Heralds that I have talent enough to join them. I don't want my hands in
any sort of war. I'd rather help others remember there's more to life than
all that."

"Hard to believe," Fyvall said with a grin, "that you are the same girl
I slung over my shoulder in a blizzard two years ago."

"A lot can happen in two years," said Oirwn. "Especially when you start
at rock bottom. You can only go up from there."

Role

Chapter 7

Oirwn could hardly understand why the words poured so easily from her lips.
Perhaps it was a combination of the whiskey and the crippling loneliness
she'd felt since crossing the sea. She told Fyvall everything and barely
stopped to think or breathe.

The bard regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments, then picked up his
fiddle once again. He crossed the room with it under his chin to the fire-
place mantel where his metronome sat. With one finger he ceased its
ticking and drew his bow across the strings of his instrument.

"Close your eyes, Iderah," said the bard, "and tell me what you see."

He played.

"High in the mountains where snows never cease
a woman is waiting; her mind is at peace.
No one is coming, no knight would dare scale
the mountain, her prison, to peer through her veil.
There she'll be buried in centuries of ice,
frozen, a testament to indolent vice.
If once, only once, in her ages alive
she'd reach for her own passion, then she could thrive.
But she waits, she is no one, she might as well die
in her prison of ice, living a lie."

Fyvall stopped fiddling and looked strangely at Oirwn for a moment before
speaking. "So that is what you see? Do you understand it?"

"Yes," she said, burying her nose in her empty mug. Her voice was muffled
by its ceramic shell, "I understand it very well."

Role

Chapter 5

Oirwn stumbled through the winding backstreets of residential Galadon
looking in every rubbish bin for something suitable to eat. This winter
was much harder than she remembered the season typically being, and she
constantly puffed out warm air onto her fingers to ensure they still had
feeling. She was starving. Proper starving, like when one considers
oneself lucky to find a molded apple core or a bone to gnaw on. There
had been jobs to try out for, but none of them seemed to want to commit
to her. She wondered if her falsified credentials had much to do with
it.

Oirwn finally collapsed outside a tiny, hole-in-the-wall pub, and she
curled up on the ground to try and make peace with the fact that she
might just freeze to death. As she closed her eyes, a hint of rhyme
and song drifted to her on the wind.

"Don't leave me," she thought, clinging tightly to the poetry she could
barely hear. "Just stay the night. Stay with me so I can make it."

At close, the pub's patrons filed quietly out into the night, cinching
up their coats and pulling on thick, leather gloves. If any spied
Oirwn lying silently below the window, covered in snow, they kept on
walking. No time for that tonight, just a beggar who gets by dis-
honestly on the city's charity. The entertainer of the evening was
the last to leave. He paused outside the door and took a long drag
from his pipe. A snowball formed atop Oirwn's head and rolled to the
ground, hitting the bard's boot. Oirwn heard his footsteps crunching
up to her, followed by a soothing voice.

"Hello, little one. My, you're blue. Come on, up you get. I'll help
you to somewhere warm."

Oirwn didn't move. She couldn't. Her mind begged and pleaded with her
body, but it would not be pursuaded.

"No? Well, I have something to say about that."

She felt herself being lifted, hoisted easily over a shoulder, then the
footsteps began again.

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Role

Chapter 1

"Hands off, you brute!" protested the young woman, with a kick aimed toward
the crotch of her captor. The heel of her boot nearly grazed her intended
point of impact, and the guard set her down swiftly, too swiftly, as he
attempted to escape her reach. She landed with a thud on her hands and
knees as the guard backed away with a sword pointed steadfastly at her.
The woman muttered and stood up with as much grace as she could muster, and
dusted off her knees. She glanced around the room, casually looking for an
exit, before her gaze fell upon the judge.

The judge was an impossibly old man whose stern expression was made permanent
by a multitude of wrinkles and creases. After a few moments of staring, he
spoke.

"You are Horatia Felport, and you are accused of the murder of your husband
Grigori Felport. How do you plead?"

"Guilty, your honor."

The judge blinked once and smiled broadly. Under his breath, he muttered,
"It's almost never that easy."

He rose from his seat and his stiff robes made a crispy rustling as he
stood to address Horatia again, "Your punishment will be to hang by the neck
until dead at sunup tomorrow."

As the guard pushed her to the door, Horatia smiled, ever so slightly, and so
no one could see.

Role

Chapter 2

--Much Earlier--

"Hello, Atavia! Heard we had a new retrieval! Half-Elf? Looks just like me?
I think I'm about to get a little rich, yeah?"

"Ah, Iderah, yes. My favorite little actress. Let me see." Atavia shuffled
a few papers on the desk in front of her before pulling one of the oldest
looking sheets from the pile. "This one has been a thorn in my side for
years, but we finally tracked her down," said Atavia, with an evil little
smirk. "Horatia Melden, well, Felport now. She's even gone and gotten her-
self married to a handsome sailor."

"Bit mean, don't you think, Atavia? Taking her away from the life she's made
for herself?" questioned Iderah, eyeing the fat coin purse held by the older
woman on the opposite side of the room.

"Since when are you so sentimental? Don't forget, we could just as easily
take you away from yours," Atavia snarled. The tone of older woman's voice
was disconcerting, and she batted her eyes sweetly to drive the point home.

"The girl should not have run from us. She is our property and we suffered
a loss of thousands of gold which we will, I assure you, reclaim. Study her
file. You will play decoy two mornings from now when she is on her way to
market."

Role

Chapter 3

--Two Days Later--

"Coxan, Coxan! LET ME IN!" shouted Iderah, "Hurry!"

Coxan Cwain was unamused and purposefully took his time undoing the seven
locks on his front door. Iderah, meanwhile, beat impatiently on the door as
if it were a drum. When the final lock was undone, Iderah pushed herself
through the door and slammed it behind her, panting fearfully. Coxan Cwain
eyed her up and down, noting her bruises and blood stained dressing down.

"That ain't your blood then, hm? What've they had you up to this time?"

"It was a complete cock-up, Coxan! Atavia's gotten old and stupid, and she
didn't do her research on Grigori Felport at all. Coxan... Coxan, I think
I killed him..." Iderah trailed off as her speech devolved into gentle sobs.
"I've done so much bad stuff... I've never killed anyone. Never! And now
Atavia's going to kill ME! I ran! I didn't know what to do!"

Coxan Cwain rubbed his white goatee thoughtfully before saying, "Nah, she
won't put you away. I've got a crazy idea. Even seen it work before,
long time ago."

Iderah raised a brow. "Tell me, I'll do anything!"

"Right then, what you do is, you turn yourself in to the guard and get
executed for murder. That'll get Atavia off your back, sure as can be."

"Hells bells," muttered Iderah, "You were right about crazy."

"Sure, but I know one thing you don't."

"What?"

Coxan smiled, revealing a well-worn set of wooden teeth. "I know the
executioner, and he owes me a favor."

Role

Chapter 4

--And A While Later Than That--

"My neck hurts. There's bruises," said Iderah, with a pout.

"Oh stop whinin' and put on a scarf. At least you ain't dead."

Iderah chuckled and flashed Coxan a winning smile. "Have I thanked you
for the twentieth time yet?"

"Now, here's your papers. Got your new name on 'em and everything. And
here's a bit of money for the ferry to Hamsah. Now listen, girl, you
really got to get outta this town and stay out. Any of Atavia's folks
spy you around here, you'll get your throat slit. You got me?" asked
Coxan, with his fluffy white eyebrows knit with concern.

"You're too good to me, Coxan. Why are you so good to me?"

"Aw, girl, you just remind me of someone... Someone I hurt a long time
ago. I can't make it right for her, but maybe I can for you."

Iderah wrapped her arms around the old man and bear hugged him.

"Yeah yeah," Coxan grumbled, "Now stop wastin' time and get on the damn
boat! Go live, blend in, color your hair!"

Iderah boarded the ferry and waved to Coxan from the railing. When the
city was almost out of sight, she opened the envelope Coxan had given
her.

"All right, now, what's my name?"

She ran her finger down the page a moment and stopped, then sneered.

"Oirwn Herringbone? Gods, that's rubbish. Even more rubbish than
Horatia. If I had money for another boat, I'd sail right back to Coxan
and have him make up a new one."

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