"Ride to Freedom"

Log Date:
	6/4/99

Log Cast:
	StormBearer, Faanshi, Tonol, Thomas, Seria, Vesuvia, Milane, 
SwiftTongue

Log Intro:
	Kiera Khalida has spoken -- or at least, the Herald StormBearer has
spoken on her behalf -- and Faanshi, Kiera's shudra, has received the
permission she has sought to journey with Thomas Murako and the Mongrels 
who follow him to the new nation of Avalon. The shudra girl is allowed only
one month away from Haven -- but for Faanshi, who has made only a tiny
handful of journeys in the short span of her life she's been free of the
vara of Clan Sarazen, the mere fact that she gets to journey is more than
enough of a wonder.
	Now, having received an unexpected but most gratifyingly kind farewell 
from the soft-spoken Sevilen in Atesh-Gah, having gathered up her meager store 
of personal possessions as well as her puppy Kosha, Faanshi Khalida hastens
southward from the Varati citadel to meet Murako and those who will journey
with him at the Gem Inn. First to meet the young shudra, however, is the
Herald who has unexpectedly sought Murako's leave to travel along with him
as well...

----------
What, no crow? StormBearer sits at the bar, waiting patiently. Apparently he 
  was early. An empty glass is just now being removed from in front of him.

The Sylvan Herald might be sans his crow -- but the shudra halfbreed girl who 
  tentatively makes her way into the Gem Inn is not without her own animal 
  companion. In addition to the large, simple woven-string sack she bears off 
  one slender shoulder, Faanshi is also carrying a small and rather lively 
  puppy. The creature is wriggling about enthusiastically in her arms, peering 
  about with eager brown eyes, and yapping at practically everyone and 
  everything they pass. "Shhh, Kosha, shhh, we will go soon," she murmurs to 
  the little dog, trying to calm him as she enters the establishment.

As the door of the Inn swings open, the Herald's head turns lightly to see who 
  it is that is now entering his place of rest. Hey look, it's Faanshi. He 
  turns around the rest of the way to welcome her, and notices the puppy. A 
  grin breaks across his face as he waves lightly towards Faanshi from across 
  the mostly empty room..

Yap! Yap! What's that over there? Who's that? The puppy's head swivels around 
  in all directions, and as Kosha spots that being over there waving at his 
  mistress, he yaps again.

Faanshi, too, espies the Herald. Still trying to calm the small dog in her 
  arms, she ventures shyly in StormBearer's direction, bobbing her head to 
  him, and murmuring, "Namaste', Imphadi Herald... I am on time?" Although she 
  does not look straight at the Sylvan, there's a little note of hopeful 
  anxiety in her voice.

Faanshi
     At first glance, some things about this individual are easy to discern. 
  The garments worn are those oft seen on Varati females, yet while this 
  figure stands tall at 5'9", the build is small for a woman of that race. But 
  woman she clearly is, if the glimpses of slender hands and feet and of the 
  shape beneath her flowing garb are to be believed. What portions of her skin 
  are visible are a warm shade of gold; a hint of a braid of coal-black peeks 
  out from beneath her sari. Shy or perhaps simply trained to submissive 
  silence she must be, for she rarely raises her eyes to anyone unless 
  specifically bidden, and she speaks so seldom and so softly that it is nigh 
  impossible to determine the quality of her voice. Only the most astute of 
  observers might notice that every so often -- perhaps when she thinks no one 
  is watching -- this silent one peeks with furtive curiosity out from behind 
  her veil at the world at large, with eyes set at a slight un-Varatish slant 
  in her face, eyes the color of summer leaves.
     She is simply clad, her garments of humble make but excellent repair, 
  perhaps the clothing of a servant whose household garbs even its servants 
  well. Her choli is a bright shade of red; her silwar, bright blue. A darker 
  blue sari with gold trim is wrapped about her slender frame, and a veil of 
  translucent light blue silken stuff conceals the lower half of her face from 
  easy view. On her feet are a penniless shudra's version of boots -- several 
  rags of blue, red, and gold cloth tied there and there along her calves, 
  ankles and feet, held in place by the long thongs of her sandals.
Carrying:
Kosha

StormBearer laughs lightly "No, you've arrived with plenty of time." His 
  bright green eyes move quickly to examine the puppy "My, thats quite an 
  energetic little animal you've got there" he says with a smile

Kosha wriggles, his big floppy, pointed ears perking up as he peers over at 
  the Sylvan. Who are you and do you have food?

Faanshi does not laugh, and her veiled countenance cannot easily relay a 
  smile. But she replies promptly and earnestly, "He is a very vigorous 
  puppy." A pause, and then, "Do you think it will be all right if I bring 
  him, Imphadi StormBearer? I forgot to ask...!" Worriedly, the maiden peeks 
  towards the stairs, as if expecting Thomas Murako to descend them and 
  possibly inform her her little companion cannot come along on the impending 
  journey.

StormBearer looks back from the puppy to where the face of it's owner would 
  be, if it were not hidden by the many viels. "I am sure it will not be a 
  problem" he says "I myself bring my friend the crow, who I believe you have 
  met before." he says. Those green eyes, so characteristic of a Sylvan, seem 
  to be shining a bit brighter than usual. Perhaps he's in a good mood, though 
  isn't he always in a good mood?

Tonol has left.

"Kosha would miss me if he had to stay in the kennels," Faanshi says solemnly, 
  and at the utterance of his name, the puppy starts wagging his tail at top 
  speed. Kosha! That's him! Yap! His mistress, in the meantime, adds, "And 
  yes, imphadi, I met your bird." Is that a touch of awe in the maiden's soft 
  words?

StormBearer does a bit of a shiver when Faanshi mentions the kennels. Just the 
  thought of animals being cuped up like that and treated like, well, treated 
  like animals. After that shiver however, he shows no other signs of discord. 
  "Yes, that would be a shame." he says "Would you care for something to 
  drink?" he asks

"I... do you think that I should, Imphadi, before we begin the journey?" 
  Faanshi inquires. And in the midst of his wriggling, Kosha manages to wedge 
  his nose in under Faanshi's veil, and the shudra girl has to stop a moment 
  to persuade the pup not to pull the gauzy blue silk out of its proper place. 
  "Stop that," she murmurs gently to him, provoking a little 'yrf' from him. 
  "Be good now, Kosha!" Carefully, tenderly, she sets the young canine on the 
  floor; animal though Kosha might be, and Varati-bred this maiden, but deep 
  affection can be gleaned from the movements of her hands and the tone of 
  that quiet voice of hers.

StormBearer nods happily, catching a quick glance of the face behind the viel 
  as the puppy noses its way in. "It should be fine, as long as you do not 
  have anything to strong, or you could have some Kaffe. I do not believe that 
  has any liqour in it at all." he watches quietly, waiting for a response..

A brief glance -- but just enough to show a bit of skin too pale for most 
  Varati, the curve of a delicate jawline. Then blue silk is back in place, 
  leaving only the black-lashed green eyes whose gaze remains generally 
  lowered. "Sit, Kosha," she instructs the puppy, and Kosha promptly parks his 
  haunches on the floor. But the maiden is prevented from telling him "good 
  dog", as she starts ever so slightly at the Herald's observations. And then 
  she shakes her sari-covered head, murmuring bemusedly, "I think perhaps I 
  should just have some water."

StormBearer turns to the bartender, asking simply for a glass of water. Water. 
  The bartender looks at the Herald a bit oddly, but gets the water. The 
  Herald plops down a coin for the man, just for the effort, and hands the 
  glass to you. "There you go."

Thomas enters down the spiral staircase from the second floor.
Thomas has arrived.

"Thank you, imphadi," Faanshi says, gravely but gratefully; it seems that 
  every word this maiden utters is done with sobriety. She turns to bob her 
  head and repeat the same words to the person behind the bar, looking up 
  neither to the Herald nor to the bartender. It takes her a moment, though, 
  to figure out how to properly sip at the water while veiled -- not the 
  easiest or daintiest of tasks. And at last she murmurs to StormBearer, 
  "Please excuse me." With that, she turns slightly away from him, using her 
  free hand to lift up the blue silk about her face, just enough to manage a 
  furtive sip or two at the proffered water, not enough to get any kind of 
  real impression of her features.

StormBearer respects Faanshi's wishes, and so as she does this, he turns his 
  head away also, though only a bit. How good his Pheripheral vision, however, 
  and wether or not hes actually watching as she drinks, are undetectable.

Thomas's boots can be heard descending from the stairs above, and soon the 
  Mongrel man emerges into the light of the main room of the Gem. Slung over 
  his shoulder is a pack which apparently contains the whole of the belongings 
  which he brought to Haven. Looking around the chamber for a moment, he lets 
  out a soft exhale, as if he were almost giving things a look over before he 
  left them behind. It is Faanshi and StormBearer both who catch his eye, and 
  a small smile comes to his lips, "Greetings." The sound of his heavy boots 
  as he crosses the floor towards them, "Are you of you prepared to depart? 
  I've been informed that all has been made ready and everyone who's coming 
  has arrived." A pause as he glances towards the exit, "Unfortunately, 
  Dremmond and Numa are going to be staying behind to continue work here in 
  Haven."

Tonol has arrived.
Tonol heads up the spiral staircase to the second floor.
Tonol has left.

At Faanshi's feet, the puppy Kosha sees the Mongrel man coming down the stairs 
  before the shudra does. Immediately, the little dog leaps up, yapping 
  brightly, and once more enthusiastically wagging his tail. This startles 
  Faanshi into turning around, one hand hastily smoothing out her veil. At the 
  same time, though, there is a childlike eagerness lurking somewhere in her 
  demeanor and tone as she pipes, "Namaste', Thomas!" She has a bag made from 
  woven string dangling off one shoulder -- not particularly large, but 
  apparently thoroughly stuffed.

StormBearer's head also turns to see what has excited the little dog, though 
  for him, very little turning is needed indeed. "I am ready." thats it. 
  Though, notably, he is more relaxed then when delivering messages. His voice 
  is not that mild monotone he uses for such tasks, but full of life and 
  exuberance. He reaches down under the stool he currently sits on, removing a 
  sack. The sack bears the compass mark insignia of the Heralds, identical to 
  the one on his cloak, and appears also to be stuffed.

"Namaste', Faanshi." Thomas turns his head towards the halfbreed shudra and 
  then glances at Kosha, the eager little puppy. "Seems as if Kosha is excited 
  about our future travels," the Mongrel makes an offhanded comment with a 
  smile, "and personally, so am I. I believe this is going to be a good trip." 
  Turning to glance at the Sylvan man first, he asks curiously, "Do you have 
  much experience riding, StormBearer?" And then towards the young girl, "And 
  you, Faanshi? Have you ever ridden before?" Standing there amid the tavern's 
  main room, the Mongrel shifts his weight just a touch, adjusting the pack's 
  weight so that he doesn't have to set it down.

"It _is_ all right if I bring Kosha?" Faanshi asks anxiously, torn for a 
  moment between scooping up the puppy and drinking down the rest of the 
  water. She at last opts for the second, turning quickly away again to remove 
  her face from the line of sight of the men, thirstily draining down the 
  glass -- for what a day it has been, thus far! -- while Thomas addresses 
  StormBearer.

StormBearer's face contorts at Thomas's comment. Its not sadness, rage, hate, 
  what is it? It in fact seems that he's trying not to laugh. After a brief 
  second, he speaks quickly, with an amused lilt in his voice. "Yes, I can 
  ride. It sometimes seems that I was born in the saddle." He says. Apparently 
  he can ride.

Seria enters down the spiral staircase from the second floor.
Seria has arrived.
Seria climbs down the stairs from above, moving quickly out of the inn.
Seria exits the inn in favour for the street outside.
Seria has left.

After a comment like StormBearer's, Faanshi is given a significant bit of 
  pause. Her bearing slumps, and she murmurs in doleful tones, "I do not know 
  how to ride a horse." A pause to consider; then, she straightens up again, 
  trying to look stoic. Three diffrent surahs advise her to face this well, 
  after all! "But I will ride a horse if that is how we have to go to Avalon!" 
  she appends.

At StormBearer's response, Thomas looks at him evenly, "You must excuse my 
  ignorance, sir. I did not wish to assume that you made your passage by 
  horseback or otherwise. It does please me to hear that you can handle a 
  mount. We have one ready for you in that case." And then to Faanshi, the man 
  nods to her comments, "That is well, Faanshi. We have a cart which you can 
  ride in, or you can walk if it pleases you. We will not be riding hard to 
  reach out destination, so speed is not so much an issue." Then, with a 
  glance towards the exit, the Mongrel clears his throat, gesturing for the 
  others to come join him, "We should be going. I want to get as much of the 
  day in as possible before we break to rest for the evening." He starts with 
  wide steps in the direction of the exit.

StormBearer's face flushes at Thomas's apology. He pulls lightly on the string 
  of his satchel and takes a long step forward. He quickly takes many more, 
  catching up to Thomas somewhere right by the exit..

Well, _that_ sounds like it's time to go! Faanshi steps as quickly as she can 
  to the bar, proffering her empty glass back to the 'tender and murmuring an 
  earnest "thank you". Then, before Kosha can scamper off to explore the 
  fascinating smells coming out of the kitchen, she scoops up the puppy. A 
  glance to StormBearer, and then she hastens in the wake of the men, 
  murmuring solemnly, "I can walk..."

Tonol enters down the spiral staircase from the second floor.
Tonol has arrived.

Thomas exits the inn in favour for the street outside.
Thomas has left.

Seria enters from the street.
Seria has arrived.

StormBearer exits the inn in favour for the street outside.
StormBearer has left.

You enter the street outside the inn.
Fairway and North - Haven
     Imposing buildings line the four corners of this intersection, some built 
  from wood and stone while others sport the organic curves and flowing 
  designs of shaping magic. One of the grandest belongs to the illustrious 
  city guard, more commonly known as "the Hounds." Their headquarters is a 
  squat, stone structure with a tile roof and a wide archway that leads into a 
  courtyard beyond. Flanking it on either side are marble likenesses of the 
  legendary Cerberus--the hound that earned them their name.
     This close to the center of town, the streets are active even into the 
  early hours of morning. Shops and stalls outnumber private homes, many of 
  them brightly painted with wood or stone columns along the front. Carts and 
  the occasional chariot clatter along the paved road, moving to and from the 
  famed Rialto to the south.
Contents:
StormBearer(#1891PJOncem)
Thomas
Vesuvia
Obvious exits:
The Gem Inn <GI>  Streets <N,E,W>  Bastion <B>  City Park <CP>  The Rialto <S>

Vesuvia trails after Seria into the inn.
Vesuvia enters the Gem Inn.
Vesuvia has left.

Going? Going? Ooh, going! Yap! In Faanshi's arms, Kosha wriggles this way and 
  that, doing his level best to try to thoroughly inspect both Sylvan and 
  Mongrel as his young mistress trails after them. Only a day or two ago, a 
  new friend had invited Faanshi to walk beside rather than behind him; here 
  and now, though, she is more than content simply to try to keep up with the 
  longer strides of the men she follows.

StormBearer once outside the Inn, Stormbearer breaks off a bit, and to anyone 
  who knows him and is looking, his destination is obvious. Nearby stands a 
  night black horse, perched upon which is a crow. As the Herald approaches 
  the horse, the crow alights, settling upon his shoulder once he has mounted 
  the horse. It could be noted that the Herald is riding bare-back (Without a 
  saddle)

Outside the Gem Inn, the procession bound for Avalon has begun to gather. 
  Murako rode into Haven with less than ten, but he returns with perhaps a 
  hundred or so souls, mostly Mongrels. Many are citizens of Haven, or others 
  who have been swayed by the words of either Dremmond or Thomas. There are a 
  few carts that are drawn by heavier horses and some invidual mounts which 
  support some of Avalon's makeshift army -- young men dressed in leather 
  armor and carrying weapons at their side. Most are on foot. Murako himself 
  emerges from the Inn and looks around at those which have gathered. One of 
  the men upon horseback calls out to him, "Thomas!" A pause as he waves his 
  hand to gain attention, "We are ready to ride." The large Mongrel looks back 
  towards the Sylvan and halfbreed at his heels. The man seeks his mount, so 
  he turns to the shudra girl, "Faanshi, would you like to ride with me for a 
  bit?"

Milane enters from the Gem Inn.
Milane has arrived.

Amazement straightens Faanshi out of her customary shy posture, and for as 
  long as it takes her to breathe, "May I?", she actually looks up at the 
  Mongrel leader, green eyes wide. And then she catches herself, looking 
  around in growing shyness at the large gathering beginning to surround them. 
  "Should I... should I hold Kosha on the horse?"

With a tiny sack of "her belongings", Milane walks quickly out of the Gem with 
  a worried expression on her face. Her eyes sink in concern, as they dart 
  about the space -- to the left -- to the right -- north -- south -- where 
  are they? Milane's steps grow more haphazard, evidence of her confusion 
  until her voice takes over and she calls out, "Avalon?!" in an emotional 
  tone. Did she miss the caravan?

Now Mounted, the Herald nudges his horse towards the growing crowd, which 
  contains about a hundred or so people. He moves it closer to where Faanshi 
  and Thomas near the mongrel leader's horse.

Thomas shakes his head slowly, "Kosha can ride in the wagon." He smiles a 
  touch and motions for one of the women who stands nearby to come closer, 
  "Kira, can you take Kosha and hold him in the wagon, so that Faanshi can 
  ride with me?" He takes a few steps towards the warhorse which is the man's 
  mount. The creature is tall and almost a pure white -- a stallion for 
  certain. Walking up to the horse's muzzle, he strokes it softly, "Good boy." 
  The woman, Kira, comes closer to the shudra girl and offers to take the 
  puppy from her hands. And then, with little effort, he holds the reins in 
  his hands, sliding into the saddle and resting his weight upon the animal. 
  It is now that he sees Milane emerge from the Inn, "You are running late, 
  Milane! Do you know how to ride?" His large hand extends downwards to offer 
  a lift for the girl when she's freed her hands.

Defiantly, with a hint of arrogance, Milane retorts, "Of course /I/ know how 
  to ride, Thomas! Running late? I was doing those errands you sent me out 
  on!" Meek, and shy, yes. But when it comes to getting something done and 
  having her skills challenged, the polite Milane is a brat. Milane hands her 
  bag to a familiar mongrel and offers him a sweet voiced "Namaste" along with 
  a reassuring wink. "You didn't tell me the exact position of the sky when we 
  were to leave, Murako. . ." she says playfully -- in that tone a woman can 
  use to both reprimand and endear. Breathing in one of her last breaths of 
  Haven's air, Milane relaxes into her place among friends. Her smile grows 
  wide on her bow-shaped lips and her eyes beam with affection for the people 
  among her.

Kosha yapyapyaps in bemusement at the presence of this large white creature... 
  and then whines as he is handed off to Kira. "Shhh, Kosha, shhh, be good 
  now," Faanshi murmurs, and then she bobs her head to the woman who has come 
  to her, saying softly, "Thank you, imphada. He wriggles!" Then, her hands 
  duly free though her well-stuffed string bag still hangs from her shoulder, 
  Faanshi turns to Thomas Murako's white stallion. Horses are not so big as 
  wyverns, but still, a good-sized horse is still much bigger than a 
  soft-spoken halfbreed healer, and Faanshi swallows hard behind her veil at 
  the sight of this creature. Shyly, trustingly, she lifts a hand to curl it 
  around the one Thomas offers, even as Milane's approach... and that voiced 
  'namaste'... startles her into looking in this newcomer's direction. But 
  only for a moment. Thomas wishes her to get on the horse; the only question 
  is, how? It looked very easy when the Mongrel leader climbed onto his mount, 
  but Faanshi is not at all certain that she can mimic him. "What do I do 
  now?" she whispers up plaintively to the man on the horse.

The direct glance of the elegant Faanshi warrants Milane's immediate attention 
  almost at the same moment. Mud-brown eyes make contact with the woman, who 
  she recognizes from the Rialto a few hours before. Milane smiles to herself 
  and thinks -- another woman friend -- one of the few she has ever had the 
  opportunity to make. She watches the delicate lady move with hesitation about 
  the large stallion, and cocks her head to one side in concern. These horses 
  can be overwhelming, and Milane has helped many an Imphada mount a horse as 
  to remain demure. It is her pleasure to help a friend of her own free will. 
  With tiny steps, and a bowed head, Milane asks in simple tones, "May I help 
  you mount the horse, Imphada?" before lowering herself into a humble and 
  subervient curtsey.

StormBearer's Steed comes into proximity of Thomas and Faanshi, the crow upon 
  his shoulder observing the scene carefully. The Herald's cloak flaps lightly 
  in the morning, and his hood is up to protect him from the light rain. This, 
  in fact, ends up obscuring part of his face, but those who know him will 
  have little trouble recognizing him. It Seems a stark comparasin indeed, The 
  Herald's night black horse, which also seems a Stallion, standing so near to 
  Thomas's white one. In fact, the Herald himself seems much the opposite of 
  the mongrel leader. While he is cloaked and somewhat mysterious at the 
  moment, with the crow upon his shoulder as it is, Thomas is dressed in 
  leather armor, full of leadership.

SwiftTongue meanders in from the west.
SwiftTongue has arrived.

Sarra travels the Fairway, heading east.
Sarra has left.

The Mongrel leader, Thomas Murako sits high upon his horse amid what appears 
  to be a gathering of others -- mostly Mongrels. Some are mounted and others 
  ride in carts, but all appear as if they are preparing to travel somewhere 
  beyond the city. Foodstuffs can be seen laden on flatbeds: flour, wheat, and 
  the ilk. Livestock can also be seen, young boys gathering them into neater 
  herds. From atop Tempest, his white stallion, Thomas leans down and helps 
  Milane in lifting the small shudra girl, Faanshi, onto the back of the 
  steed. At the Mongrel girl's comment, he smiles a touch, chuckling, "I 
  apologize for not giving you more notice, Milane. It was my belief you were 
  aware of our schedule. No matter though, you are here and we are ready to 
  ride. Come on Faanshi, up you go!" ...he grunts a bit as he helps her on. 
  Meanwhile Kosha is safely stowed in a wagon.

SwiftTongue travels the Fairway, heading east.
SwiftTongue has left.

Milane's demeanor and the mode of her address are so utterly familiar to 
  Varati-bred ears that Faanshi is utterly taken by surprise at her approach. 
  "You... honor me," she blurts, her voice equally soft, "but I, I am only 
  shudra, you do not need to curtsey--" Assistance in mounting, however, is 
  obviously needed, and she cuts herself off to conclude tinily, "--thank 
  you...!" Up, indeed, she goes, with the combined assistance of Milane and 
  Murako. While Kosha yaps at the top of his puppy lungs, trying to figure out 
  why his mistress is over there getting on the Big White Thing while he is 
  not with her, Faanshi has to take a moment to get her bearings. Ushas, but 
  everything looks different on a horse! She peeks down at Milane, then, her 
  eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thank you...!"

There is something very maternal in the way Milane lifts the delicate veiled 
  lady on to her horse. Every finger laid on the woman's body is placed with a 
  careful affection, and when she uses her strength to bring the light woman 
  to Murako's side, she shoulders the weight off of her mongrel body, not 
  Faanshi's form. Milane downcasts her brown eyes to the ground and shakes her 
  head a few times. "You. . .honour /me/. . .Imphada. . ." Milane then brings 
  her circular pools up to look at Faanshi, and offers her a reassuring smile. 
  "We will be great friends. . ." she says, warmly. Milane _hopes_ they will 
  be great friends -- there is just something about this Faanshi that is so 
  familiar, so near. A nearby male mongrel leads Milane onto "her" horse, a 
  white mare slightly smaller than Murako's, but just as ceremonial. With an 
  easy motion of her strong body, the mongrel woman is on the horse and making 
  it her pet with loving pats of her hands along its sides. She looks up, 
  beaming with pride, to Murako and Faanshi on their companion horse and says, 
  "We leave for our freedom, now, do we not?"

Several of the men dressed in leathers ride around, surveying the situation. 
  Its odd to see Mongrels fitted in armor and adorned in weapons, and though 
  they have very little battle experience, Dremmond's training appears to have 
  them looking at least something like a military. One stops not far from 
  Thomas' horse and calls out, "Are we ready, Thomas?"

"Start the wagons moving, Gaiden." Thomas calls out as he finishes helping the 
  halfbreed onto the wide back of Tempest. His eyes scan the crowd from this 
  lofty position, one hand shifting to his side and untying the wide belt 
  which holds his sword in place. Moving it to a position on the side of the 
  horse, he hooks it into place. Such a thing can be a minor hindrance when 
  riding long distances. As StormBearer draws his mount closer, he gazes over 
  at the man and nods slowly. A small smile before he leans back towards 
  Faanshi and speaks in a softer tone, "Hold your hands tightly about me, 
  Faanshi. The horse will bounce a bit at first, but don't try to resist it. 
  Just allow yourself to move with him. Feel how he rises and falls. It is not 
  a difficult thing to learn. If you get in trouble, don't hesitate to tell 
  me?" Then, he grips the reins in his hand and turns his horse in the 
  direction of Milane, waiting till the Mongrel woman has gotten herself 
  properly situated, answering her question, "Aye, Milane, we leave for our 
  freedom." There is a strong sense of purpose and destiny behind those words. 
  And then, he starts to urge the beast beneath him forward at a slow, 
  leisurely gait.

SwiftTongue moves in from the east along Fairway.
SwiftTongue has arrived.

Sarra moves in from the east along Fairway.
Sarra has arrived.

SwiftTongue moves west quickly, followed by Sarra
SwiftTongue wanders west toward Fairway and Border.
SwiftTongue has left.

Sarra wanders west toward Fairway and Border.
Sarra has left.

The man who Thomas called Gaiden takes his horse and rides towards what 
  appears to be the 'front' of the procession. Already, this number of people 
  in front of the Gem has attracted a goodly deal of attention from some of 
  the citizens and shop-owners in the area. They have come out to see what 
  this spectacle is. Though the words are difficult to make out, some of them 
  look blank, others vaguely hopeful -- as if they wished they were among that 
  number who had the courage to leave this place. Still others point and 
  mutter amongst themselves, Murako atop his horse is certainly cursed for his 
  'rebellious' ways. One man even spits upon the ground, focusing on the core 
  group near the middle. He mutters something and points. Slowly, the process 
  begins to move off down the street and towards the northern gate of Haven. 
  People are walking, riding, and even several dogs yap and chase at the feet 
  of 'mooing' cattle. It is quite a sight to behold.

StormBearer nudges his horse forward at a gait matching that of Thomas's 
  horse, wanting to remain near the Mongrel leader.

Faanshi's face might be mostly hidden by her silken veil, but still, there's 
  something like a smile in her eyes as she peeks over at Milane from behind 
  Thomas's armored form. At his instruction to her, she bobs her head, not 
  really realizing he might not be able to see her do so from in front of her, 
  but her acknowledge of his words is obvious enough as her arms creep about 
  him, her hands clasping in front of him like those of a child putting her 
  arms about her father, or perhaps her older brother. Riding, indeed, to 
  Mongrel freedom... and perhaps for one shudra halfbreed in the colors of the 
  Varati Clan Khalida, freedom of a kind for herself as well, freedom to grow
  both in terms of magic and in terms of inner strength. Still, though, she 
  remains a silent, shy presence at Thomas's back, daunted by the crowds that 
  watch the procession depart.

Thomas continues to the north.
Thomas has left.

You continue north toward the crossing of Palisade and North.
Palisade and North - Haven
     Some have likened the Varati home to a geode--rough and plain on the 
  outside, while opulence and splendor lie within. Certainly the first part of 
  that analogy is true. The only hint that these buildings house the more 
  prominent members of Varati society are their size. Massive structures loom 
  on either side of the street, crafted from brick, marble, granite, and even 
  metal.
     And here, also, is the grand embassy of the Varati. Only shaping magic 
  could have created such a structure, for it gives the impression of having 
  grown out of the earth itself. Like the others, its decoration is minimal, 
  yet flowing curves and the use of obsidian and marble make such 
  ornamentation unnecessary. Flanked by stone pillars, the entranceway is 
  constantly guarded by sentinels who may as well be stone themselves, so 
  humorless are they. Only guests of the kingdom and ambassadors from other 
  realms may pass within.
     A gate leads out of the city to a road that eventually winds into the 
  distant, northern mountains, though few ever dare venture that far.
Contents:
Thomas
Obvious exits:
Atesh-Gah <AG>  Streets <S,E,W>  Gate <N>

Milane arrives from the south.
Milane has arrived.

StormBearer arrives from the south.
StormBearer has arrived.

Purposefully keeping her mare a few paces behind Murako's stallion, Milane is 
  the picture of a loyal mongrel to her leader. She has pride in her eyes and 
  posture, a confidence in her ride, and a confidence in her people. It is 
  with sadness, however, that she tugs at the Varati style pendant around her 
  neck and strokes it with affection from time to time. A memory. . .a piece 
  of her heart. . .was left behind.

The group continues along the way, passing the massive walls of Atesh-Gah. 
  Some of the Varati guards who patrol stop and slow their pace, a pair of 
  them pointing towards those who walk. They are all expressionless, but they 
  make note of the passage. Thomas himself, encourages the mount to move a 
  touch faster, though he is well aware of Faanshi's newness at this. Looking 
  over towards StormBearer, he grins a bit at the man and makes idle 
  conversation, "So, tell me a bit about yourself, StormBearer? You are a 
  Sylvan, I know this much. How did you become involved with the Heralds, and 
  what made you want to come with us to Avalon?" As Atesh-Gah comes into his 
  sight, those darkened eyes drift away from the conversation and towards that 
  stony fortress. Indeed, many of the group look to that spot, for not a few 
  of them have known the prejudice and slavery of the Varati.

Odd enough, indeed, for her to be trying to accustom herself to the movement 
  of the horse upon which she now rides; odd, too, to realize that she has 
  never been so close to someone as she is now to Thomas upon his stallion. 
  What crosses her guileless mind, however, are thoughts of safety and 
  protection -- though Ulima singing lullabyes over her small head does not 
  quite compare to the solid armored presence of the Mongrel leader. As 
  Atesh-Gah comes into view for those who ride for the northern gates, she 
  peeks out once or twice from behind Thomas's shoulder, part of her not at 
  all sorry that she will for a time escape the baleful gazes of most of those 
  within the Varati Citadel... but the rest of her vowing dutifully that she 
  will return, hopefully with her powers improved, for the service of her 
  people and their God-King.

StormBearer's mount also, moves a bit faster, to keep up with Thomas. "Yes, it 
  is true that I am Sylvan. I joined the Heralds not to long after coming to 
  Haven from parts far removed. I decided to come to Avalon, because at the 
  moment, my assignment in Haven had been to find informaton of your country. 
  However, while thinking, it came into my mind that maybe this was not my 
  only reason for my wish to go." he says, his voice moving quickly over the 
  words..

Thomas ventures beyond the city's walls and onto the road leading north.
Thomas has left.

You venture beyond the city's walls and find yourself on a road leading north.
Gates of Haven - North Road - Farmlands
     A wall surrounds the city of Haven, though it has less the appearance of 
  a fortress barricade, and more the look of a boundary designed to mark the 
  difference between outside and in. Tiled rooftops peek above the wall, and 
  at times an armed guard or two might be glimpsed patrolling the top, or 
  standing sentry at the tall gates that lead into Haven. They give a cursory 
  nod to farmers and merchants traveling in from the north, where bountiful 
  farmlands and wheatfields stretch across the land like a patchwork quilt. To 
  the west, the trees grow thicker until a dense forest spreads over the 
  sloping hills, while rugged mountains hem in the horizon to the northwest. 
  And far to the east lies the sea, caught in an occasional whiff of salt on 
  the wind, if not glimpsed in actuality.
     The city of Haven, with its colorful mixture of cultures and races, lies 
  directly south, through those tall gates which welcome one and all.
Contents:
Thomas
Tent City - Outside the City Walls - Haven(#1077Je)
Obvious exits:
North <N>  Haven <S>

Milane emerges from the city's walls along the road leading north.
Milane has arrived.

StormBearer emerges from the city's walls along the road leading north.
StormBearer has arrived.

The group begins to move out Haven, streaming beneath the gate and out onto 
  the North Road. The 'soldiers' of Avalon ride at the head of the procession, 
  ten in number, and all mounted. As soon as the party breaks free from the 
  confines of the city, the apparent 'commander' motions to two of the men and 
  issues some orders. Almost immediately, those horses set forth at a full 
  gallop along the road, riding ahead of this cadre. Before they disappear 
  into the early morning light one can see that they take a sharp turn and 
  head towards the Northwest -- towards the direction of Avalon. As soon as 
  the procession has passed completely from the city, several people begin to 
  cheer, their faces bright against the sunshine which rises to your right.

Thomas himself remains still upon the horseback, slowing his pace a bit so 
  that Milane might ride next to him with StormBearer. He answers the Sylvan 
  with his next words, "You are curious about what we are doing then?" An 
  apologetic smile creases his lips, eyes watching the scouts ride off towards 
  the North, "Many people are. Milane came to us because she heard of that 
  which we were offering." A pause as he tightens his hands on Tempests' 
  reigns just a touch to keep the animal from wandering off the road. "There 
  are many rumors circulating around Haven about us," the Mongrel intones as 
  his voice grows somewhat somber, "and I believe this is because none have 
  seen the good we are doing here. How much progress we have made. They view 
  us as insurrectionists. As a danger to the established governments. They 
  could not be further from the truth. As I explained to so many, we are 
  merely attempting to give people a chance to start over. Yes, we will seek 
  the liberation of slaves and the betterment of the downtrodden classes, but 
  not through the violent means that others have come to expect."

Milane quickens her pace on the white mare to step alongside Murako, for just 
  a moment. Her brown eyes look up at him with a mixture of concern and 
  humility, "Rimposhe. . ." she begins quietly. . ."the Varati listen. . ." A 
  warning. Liberal speech on the group's goals may not be wise at this point 
  in the journey. Her lips curl up and down in a grin of apology for her 
  foolishness, before the woman slips her white mare behind the mongrel 
  leader's. She dare not ride in equal stride with Thomas and Faanshi for it 
  is not her place.

StormBearer nods understandingly to the mongrel leader, with a glance over to 
  Milane at her mention. "This is indeed a noble goal. I myself know how 
  difficult starting over can be." he says, and for those listening carefully, 
  a small tone of saddness marks this last sentence, but then it is gone. "I 
  hope that you succeed Thomas, and I tell you that I will do what I can too 
  help your purpose."

The last time Faanshi left Haven, it was by wyvern, taking her to Masada to 
  help serve for the wedding of the Amir-al and the Queen Maharani; thus, she 
  had not been able to see the lay of the land around the city. And the last 
  time she had travelled on the ground, it had been in the midst of the mighty 
  assembled hosts of the Varati armies, invading the Empyre -- and thus, she 
  had been barely able to see more than the campsites of Clans Sarazen and 
  Khalida. Now, though, she finds herself with the chance to peek wonderingly 
  at everything she passes. Every so often, she cranes her head around to try 
  to catch sight of her loyal little puppy, whining plaintively in the wagon, 
  at least until someone takes pity on the little fellow and gives him a scrap 
  of leather on which to chew. Once Thomas and StormBearer begin to converse, 
  though, her attention is drawn back to the men, and she cannot help but 
  listen. Murako's words permeate her consciousness, most of them beyond her 
  ken, but seeming to her to carry weight and meaning. The maiden clasps the 
  words into her memory to be considered later, when she has time to reflect.

Milane's words cause Thomas to focus his gaze upon her for a moment. The 
  mention of the Varati listening to their words causes him to glance back 
  towards the ramparts of Haven, towards the round domes of their 
  architecture. He answers, though his voice is somewhat distant, "We have 
  nothing to fear from them, Milane. The rumors which have been spread are far 
  worse than the truth. If we hide our intentions, it will only give those who 
  would see us fail, more fuel for their beliefs." Releasing one hand from his 
  reigns, a motion is made across those who have assembled in this procession, 
  "I cannot deny that we will attempt to free our brothers and sisters who are 
  still held in bondage. If I did, what kind of a leader would I be to these 
  people?" Turning his head towards StormBearer for a moment, he shakes it as 
  if to emphasize his points, "It is my desire to accomplish these goals, but 
  to accomplish them through fair and just means. Not all paths to our goals 
  mean we have to take the path of greatest resistance. Are these ways 
  liberal? Yes, because they go against the established governments. But I 
  will always state. Avalon is a /nation/. We are a group of people who move 
  to establish their own government and gain recognition from its peers." A 
  pause as he motions Milane to ride forward again, "You speak wisely though, 
  Milane. However, I fear it is too late to convince others that our 
  intentions are other than they truly are."

Thomas continues along the road to the north.
Thomas has left.

You continue along the road to the north.
North Road - Farmlands
     Farmlands stretch like a patchwork blanket on all sides save the south, 
  where the city of Haven beckons with its gleaming towers and tiled 
  rooftops--a harbor of civilization in all this rural countryside. Cottages 
  and farmhouses are clustered together near the city, but the further north 
  you travel, the fewer there are, and fewer horse-drawn carts and footsore 
  travelers pass you by. The road cuts through the gently rolling hills and 
  wheatfields, paved near the city, but stone soon gives way to packed 
  earth--tamped down over the years by foot and paw and hoof alike. It 
  continues northward, swallowed in the distance where a rugged mountain range 
  separates earth from sky. Even in the midst of summer's heat, a stray breeze 
  might whistle down from those peaks and bring with it the kiss of winter and 
  the promise of snow.
Contents:
Thomas
Training Camp -- In the Shadow of the Foothills(#2889Jne)
Obvious exits:
Mountains <N>  Path <NW>  South <S>

Milane travels along the road from the south.
Milane has arrived.
Milane's shoulders slouch slightly on Murako's words. He is strong, willful 
  and confident. But. . .but. . .these traits inspire both pride and 
  hesitation in the mongrel female. It is her overly conservative approach to 
  leadership to Murako's cleverness. Yes, the rumours are spreading and the 
  mongrel gang cannot hide their purpose. But, there is another way to go 
  about the message. Milane cautiously lets her white mare approach Murako's 
  more grand stallion and looks up at him with wary eyes. "We cannot hide our 
  message, Thomas. No. However, we weaken our position to act if we speak with 
  what the pure bloods consider 'foolish pride'. We know what we wish to do in 
  our hearts, and can speak freely in our private time. But when there is a 
  chance that we may be heard. . .and looked down upon. . .during our moment 
  of triumph on this journey. . .I would be cautious. . .that is all, Thomas. 
  The voice was meant to be used in moderation."

StormBearer travels along the road from the south.
StormBearer has arrived.

Convincing people? Notions? Rumors? These are among the things which Heralds 
  speciallize in. "You may find, that A Herald at your service can do much to 
  sway public opinion." he says, and the seriousness in his voice is plain. "I 
  think that opinions could be swayed in your favor," he says "though it would 
  not be easy" after having said this, he slips into a look of intense 
  concentration, seemingly trying to think about something...

From behind Thomas upon the white stallion, Faanshi glances back with furtive 
  curiosity as the woman called Milane, hailed by someone further back along 
  the group, draws back out of the conversation. That one knows Varati words, 
  and the shudra girl, watching her, feels a flare of hopeful interest -- 
  perhaps there will be more on this journey than Thomas to provide her with a 
  sense of familiarity? Such a thing she finds deeply helpful, especially with 
  the feel of Tempest's motions beneath her. It is very _strange_, different 
  from riding on a wyvern, and Faanshi surreptitiously shifts about a bit to 
  try to find a more comfortable position, a silent but noticeable reminder of 
  her presence.

The words of his Mongrel advisor settle heavily upon Thomas Murako, and for a 
  moment he grows pensive. As StormBearer speaks, he turns an eye towards the 
  man and nods, yet he answers Milane's wisdom before any other, "You will not 
  find me arguing against the use of caution, Milane, for I agree that if we 
  portray ourselves as upstars and pompous of the success that has been seen 
  so far, it will lessen us in the eyes of our fellows. Certainly I am not 
  overlooking the racial prejudice which exists against Mongrels. The first 
  hurdle we must overcome is convincing others that our efforts are sincere. 
  That as a race we are capable of existing as a nation." A pause, his eyes 
  still not looking at the woman who now falls back once again, "Don't mistake 
  my confidence in our efforts for arrogance or 'foolish pride'. In order to 
  be taken seriously by the other nations we must first reassure them that we 
  are serious about these tasks which we are undertaking." The horse continues 
  to bounce along the road as the party travels farther North from the walls 
  of Haven, "I appreciate your offer, StormBearer, and admittedly I was very 
  pleased when you said you would accompany us. If word was brought back to 
  the other nations of the gains we have made I think it would do a lot 
  towards gaining us recogition in the eyes of our fellows. Perhaps others 
  would begin to believe that what we are doing here is real. That its going 
  to happen with or without them." That confidence which the Mongrel leader 
  mentioned seems to be exuded in every word. There is no doubt in his heart 
  about anything he does or says.

If one were to look at the Herald at this moment, they would see a look upon 
  his face as he stairs into the distance. It is a look of indescision. Its is 
  a look of longing. It is a look of Sadness. It is a look of hope. "Thomas" 
  the Sylvan starts, his breath held in as he pauses for half a second. "What 
  is the fianancial status of Avalon?"

"We are but a settlement at this time. The concept of money is something that 
  has not stricken us thus far." Thomas intones, his gaze coming to a rest on 
  StormBearer with some mild curiousity. "Our citizens number less than two 
  thousand and we have bearly established our government. Admittedly, our 
  resources are at best meager," the Mongrel man continues in a softer tone, 
  "but I believe that once we have opened trade routes with the major 
  governments, we can begin to gather solid coin for the goods which we will 
  put on the market. It has been hard to gain some of the basic goods that we 
  needed without signifigant capital, but Mongrels are hard workers, my Sylvan 
  friend. They are a people who are used to doing hard labor with little or no 
  pay. Many of those who have put their backs into this, have done so without 
  complaint, never asking for anything more than the fruits of that work. Its 
  more than many of them ever had ...hope. Knowing that they are working for 
  something that belongs to them?" His lips curl into a small smile. As if 
  this pleased him in someway. Looking over his shoulder, he asks Faanshi, 
  "Are you doing well back there? Enjoying your first ride on a horse?" Again, 
  Tempest tries to stray, but Murako's strong grip keeps him in line.

As the train of people and horses proceeds, Faanshi rides meekly behind 
  Thomas, not interrupting his conversation with the Imphadi Herald. Still, 
  though, that she gets to listen to it kindles a small spark of gladness 
  within her. Not for the first time she muses that Thomas speaks beautifully. 
  And only when the cadences of his voice alter, only on his last few words, 
  does she start and rouse out of her silence. "Yes, Thomas," she pipes shyly.

The Herald's lips pucker as if he is about to say something, but then he 
  pauses. Should he do this or not? Most of his upbringing tells him that it 
  is wrong, pure and simple. But his heart, his consience tells him otherwise. 
  "Thomas, there may be a way in which I can help you other than through news, 
  and If ever there was a worthy cause, yours is one." his gaze is steady upon 
  the mongrel leader "What would you say if I told you, that I could lead some 
  of your men to a /very large/ quanity of gold and silver, which no one 
  living claims?

Tempest continues to plod along the road, his massive hooves striking along 
  the ground and stirring dirt beneath it. All around you, the Mongrels and 
  other travellers mill about, some walking, others bound in carts pulled by 
  mules. However, the actual conversation seems to have taken a different turn 
  as StormBearer mentions the possible discovery large quantities of gold and 
  silver, /this/ causes Thomas Murako's eyebrow to arch, "I would say you were 
  a very generous man, StormBearer. And self-less for not claiming a fortune 
  such as that for yourself." There is a brief pause, "If you truly know of 
  such a cache and you feel it the right thing to do, I would welcome that 
  kind of generousity. Admittedly, it may not be the best time to become a 
  people of 'wealth', for we have little in the way of defenses, but I am 
  certain that at least a small portion of that could be put to very good 
  use." He chuckles very softly, "One of my quandries was how to establish a 
  system of coinage for Avalon. Without raw metal to back it, the system is 
  useless, and I cannot see the other governments being able to deal with us 
  in barter alone. We would be at a disadvantage, for certain."

The conversation slowly fades off into murmurs as the group continues its 
  northward trek out of the lands around Haven. Above, the sun grows high and 
  then begins to sink as afternoon approaches. A rest is taken around mid-day 
  and a repast of bread and water is given to all. Then, the journey continues 
  in earnest, those who travel to Avalon giving a good pace despite the heat. 
  But, as the sun begins to grow low on the horizon weariness sets in and the 
  Sylvan who rides next to Thomas Murako casts his eyes skywards and makes a 
  wise observation...

StormBearer looks to the sky for a minute. Yes. Its the right thing to do. 
  Then, realizing the encroaching nighttime, decides he should concentrate on 
  that. "It seems to be getting late," he says, stating the obvious. "I think I 
  will explain the gold to you once we've set up camp. To fully explain, it 
  requires a story."

Thomas's eyes are cast skywards as he considers the sun's place in the sky. 
  Then, with a fairly loud voice, he calls out to the head of the line, 
  "Gaiden!" His voice is strong and carries all the way with good clarity, 
  "Lets break for the evening!" One of the horses supporting the 'commander' 
  of this division of Avalon's meager defense force turns his horse and 
  acknowledges Murako with a wave. Then, he sets off to the side of the road 
  at a full gallop, attempting to find a spot where the group might settle in 
  for a rest. The Mongrel leader turns towards StormBearer and nods, his lips 
  curling into a small grin, "I look forward to hearing this story, 
  StormBearer of the Heralds. Let us ride forth then and get settled into 
  camp. There shall be time for tales around the fire this night." With that, 
  he gives his mouth a little urging, soon clearing the crowd and setting off 
  at a faster pace to follow Gaiden's steed to the clearing which he has 
  found. Hold on Faanshi! Soon, the others in the group follow and camp is 
  broken.

[To be continued...]