Prologue
"So what are we doing going to Dementlieu again Tsara? I mean, the cards didnt say anything about that. It just mentioned fog, primalistic nature and a meeting."
The solemn blonde looked to her friend who was dressed all wrong for a Mordent. She sighed.
"Tsara, i wish you would quit this. I mean, i understand about love, i mean i, too, had a lover who once dissappeared." She looks away sadly.
"But we found him later in a feild. Dead. Something had ripped him to shreds." She turns to look at Tsara who kept walking on under the cynically grinning crescent moon. "Tsara! Listen! Please ... I know you need to find this girl but please, we shouldn't be out this late at night. You know what roams the lands. We already took a chance and were lucky to make it through the mists thanks to that Anchorite. We shouldn't keep pressing our luck."
Her black dress swished in the night as her friends multicolored outfit stood out. She never did understand why she always wore dark colors and her friend Tsara always wore bright colors when her friend always liked playing Hide-N-Seek.
Elizya sighed and walked after her friend, the highway they were on usually bustled with activity but not at this late hour while the two lone figures trekked across the roads hoping to get to Port-a-Lucine before daybreak. Elizya wasn't so sure that was going to happen. Maybe she could convince Tsara of stopping by a small villiage on the way there to rest. Granted the mists took some time off their travel and they were lucky, but she chose not to press her luck.
Deep inside she was kind of excited. Here they were, two best friends, on a secret mission into a realm ruled by a lord govener who had an advisor who was still actrive and yest still single despite all the girls who must flock to him and was a well respected lord. The mystery, the intrigue, it thrilled Elizya so. Secrets always intrigued her ever since she started working with the Weathermay-Foxgrove sisters in Mordentshire. They rarely spoke of the sombre looking man in the portrait hanging in the herbalist shoppe but she knew who he was. The great Dr. Rudolph von Richten, a powerful man who beleived in the supernatural and fairy tales.
She vowed she would be like him, maybe not as popular, but she would prove that what some say in hushed whispers and behind closed doors about their little world is true. She would show them all. Id she didnt die first. She stopped all of a sudden.
"Tsara? Look!"
She pointed out on the horrizon where a thick, heavy blanket of fog began to start rolling in, ever so slowly.
"This isn't good!" Panicked Elizya.
Tsara emits a slight giggle at her friend's discomfort "Relax, you'll never get to be a great monster-hunter if you panic every time the mist rears it's head. Look at it this way, the worst that will happen is that it will transport us someplace else. But in all likelyhood we'll eventually get where we are going; and if there is something else out there, we are fairly well prepared to deal with it".
Tsara will grip her arm "The most important thing is not to get seperated. As long as we maintain a firm grip wherever the mist takes us, we'll wind up there together".
"Oh yes" she adds as an afterthought "I'm certain Shevaun won't wind up dead in a field someplace because as a Vistani I very much doubt that she has to worry about the same kinds of problems that we do".
"I dont know. You have always had the calm and collectedness that most people envy." Her head rears back. "Did you hear that!?"
"Hmm, I have no clue what that was. So let's go find out! That's what adventuring monster hunters are supposed to do!" she will playfully begin dragging her friend off towards the creepy noise.
