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Kingdoms of Kalamar; Rancor of the Unholy - Act 1: Scene 1
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7561503" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p><img src="http://www.dawnindustry.com/Temp/Quarzi_sm2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>Quoso, Tanner, and even the kind folks of Sovrven who sought aid with their livestock, pets and animal friends, they were young Quarzi's tribe this day. Well, as close as the little golden halfling could get, to being part of such a thing in the traditional sense. It didn't bother her that preconceptions rarely fit. </p><p></p><p>Indeed, Quoso had realized early on that this woman was very much a peculiarity. The rabbit, the affection for nature, the desire to help and her spiritually-driven yet simple view of the world. This was no druidic lass or ranger of the forests. A symptom of horrors and hardships as well as friendships and peace, a wild desire to survive and adaptability were the ingredients she'd been crafted from. Quarzi was both a shaman and a golden halfling, a mismatch if ever there was one. It didn't come down to training or the judgements of kin either. She was a product of circumstances, and though some of them were dire, they had formed in the way a mountain river might choose its winding path, or how a branch grows to one day bare the weight of a buzzing hive of bees.</p><p></p><p>Like the hare, a creature of speed and cunning in efforts to avoid hungry preying eyes, Quarzi tried her very best to live in the present. Be thankful for the thorny bushes that protect one's burrows. Be alert and careful, lest something unexpectedly cause stress and surprise. When all else fails, run, kick those legs and seek the safety of earth! Such thinking had saved her life, not to mention the cottontail that had showed her the way. It was her totem animal. It could be no other way. Like the hare, Quarzi was very much an innocent soul. Skittish and easily startled perhaps, yet also capable of deep feelings, affection and attachment. Friendships like she'd formed here, in Sovrven.</p><p></p><p>It was a peaceful existence and a blessing. She was contented. Few ambitions or thoughts of greater things caused bother. One day at a time, she lived in respect of those around her, and the animal who'd saved her skin. A species often seen as little more than a provider of pelts, strangely enough. </p><p></p><p>However, even hares have dreams. A little meditation can go a long way, but some memories will always stick. Even the smallest of animals can learn from the fear and experience of childhood memories. Quarzi would never rid her mind fully of those terrors and screams. She had to just go on, accepting of it, and let it only be a distraction during times set aside for rest.</p><p></p><p>Revenge. It had crossed her mind more than once. These days though, such emotions shamed her. Hares didn't secure full-lifetime or multi-generational tribes by waging wars or chasing down the explanations of olden ills. No. Warrens were chosen based on safety and convenience. Few might ever consider how this peaceful and natural way brought about success, but consider this, across the borders of continents, throughout forests and fields, plains and hills, they are there. They were there before you, and their offspring will be there well past the time you have gone.</p><p></p><p>Distractions helped too. There was always something to do, even here in Sovrven where she went by the name of Quella...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>At first, it had pained Quarzi to deceive these folk, not being able to speak freely her true name... or homeland. But Quoso knew best. He'd been clear as the morning sun about it, and as firm as those granite tors out far beyond the grove. And what did a name matter anyway? Such trivialities were of no consequence to the spirits. And the hare? We'll, he didn't seem to mind. At least it was a pretty name... and less likely to arouse questions of heritage.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Gently, Quella returned her cupped palmfulls of eggs to the ground. She set them down softly if she could, upon the cool fluffy safety of morning snow. They would keep. Keep until she knew who approached.</p><p></p><p>It was instinctive to show caution like this. A habitual reaction though simple, that was brushed with as many undertones as one might seek. The reaction of a woman who'd sworn never to be caught unawares, ever again? Or was this simply her totem's way? Indeed, her hare had already left her gaze, probably tucked away under the hutch's stumps, or some other sneaky bunny-sized place. But make no mistake, Quarzi was no simple creature. That brain beneath long strands of sunshine-blonde hair, it was always weighing and summing, wondering and learning. She could fathom and philosophize with the best of them. Her observations and perspectives rarely went uncherished by her friends.</p><p></p><p>Why would someone visit so, without announcing themselves? And this manner of gaining access to the block, it wasn't what one might call polite or conventional! No, none of this had the aroma of "normal". It was time to play safe.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #006400"><em>What dares come closer?</em></span></p><p></p><p>She decided to follow the hare's lead, shuffle to the side, and secure a place to hide.</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Rolls etc]Rolled in the rolz.org Kalamar Character Creation room. Hide = <strong>18</strong>.[/sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7561503, member: 6799460"] [IMG]http://www.dawnindustry.com/Temp/Quarzi_sm2.jpg[/IMG] Quoso, Tanner, and even the kind folks of Sovrven who sought aid with their livestock, pets and animal friends, they were young Quarzi's tribe this day. Well, as close as the little golden halfling could get, to being part of such a thing in the traditional sense. It didn't bother her that preconceptions rarely fit. Indeed, Quoso had realized early on that this woman was very much a peculiarity. The rabbit, the affection for nature, the desire to help and her spiritually-driven yet simple view of the world. This was no druidic lass or ranger of the forests. A symptom of horrors and hardships as well as friendships and peace, a wild desire to survive and adaptability were the ingredients she'd been crafted from. Quarzi was both a shaman and a golden halfling, a mismatch if ever there was one. It didn't come down to training or the judgements of kin either. She was a product of circumstances, and though some of them were dire, they had formed in the way a mountain river might choose its winding path, or how a branch grows to one day bare the weight of a buzzing hive of bees. Like the hare, a creature of speed and cunning in efforts to avoid hungry preying eyes, Quarzi tried her very best to live in the present. Be thankful for the thorny bushes that protect one's burrows. Be alert and careful, lest something unexpectedly cause stress and surprise. When all else fails, run, kick those legs and seek the safety of earth! Such thinking had saved her life, not to mention the cottontail that had showed her the way. It was her totem animal. It could be no other way. Like the hare, Quarzi was very much an innocent soul. Skittish and easily startled perhaps, yet also capable of deep feelings, affection and attachment. Friendships like she'd formed here, in Sovrven. It was a peaceful existence and a blessing. She was contented. Few ambitions or thoughts of greater things caused bother. One day at a time, she lived in respect of those around her, and the animal who'd saved her skin. A species often seen as little more than a provider of pelts, strangely enough. However, even hares have dreams. A little meditation can go a long way, but some memories will always stick. Even the smallest of animals can learn from the fear and experience of childhood memories. Quarzi would never rid her mind fully of those terrors and screams. She had to just go on, accepting of it, and let it only be a distraction during times set aside for rest. Revenge. It had crossed her mind more than once. These days though, such emotions shamed her. Hares didn't secure full-lifetime or multi-generational tribes by waging wars or chasing down the explanations of olden ills. No. Warrens were chosen based on safety and convenience. Few might ever consider how this peaceful and natural way brought about success, but consider this, across the borders of continents, throughout forests and fields, plains and hills, they are there. They were there before you, and their offspring will be there well past the time you have gone. Distractions helped too. There was always something to do, even here in Sovrven where she went by the name of Quella... At first, it had pained Quarzi to deceive these folk, not being able to speak freely her true name... or homeland. But Quoso knew best. He'd been clear as the morning sun about it, and as firm as those granite tors out far beyond the grove. And what did a name matter anyway? Such trivialities were of no consequence to the spirits. And the hare? We'll, he didn't seem to mind. At least it was a pretty name... and less likely to arouse questions of heritage. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Gently, Quella returned her cupped palmfulls of eggs to the ground. She set them down softly if she could, upon the cool fluffy safety of morning snow. They would keep. Keep until she knew who approached. It was instinctive to show caution like this. A habitual reaction though simple, that was brushed with as many undertones as one might seek. The reaction of a woman who'd sworn never to be caught unawares, ever again? Or was this simply her totem's way? Indeed, her hare had already left her gaze, probably tucked away under the hutch's stumps, or some other sneaky bunny-sized place. But make no mistake, Quarzi was no simple creature. That brain beneath long strands of sunshine-blonde hair, it was always weighing and summing, wondering and learning. She could fathom and philosophize with the best of them. Her observations and perspectives rarely went uncherished by her friends. Why would someone visit so, without announcing themselves? And this manner of gaining access to the block, it wasn't what one might call polite or conventional! No, none of this had the aroma of "normal". It was time to play safe. [COLOR=#006400][I]What dares come closer?[/I][/COLOR] She decided to follow the hare's lead, shuffle to the side, and secure a place to hide. [sblock=Rolls etc]Rolled in the rolz.org Kalamar Character Creation room. Hide = [B]18[/B].[/sblock] [/QUOTE]
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