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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Eva of Sirrion" data-source="post: 3012796" data-attributes="member: 26520">MironalliaMironallia had went out on her pilgrimage from Qualinost in order to bring the word and healing gifts of Mishakal wherever they were needed, but she'd never thought she'd end up in a place like this.  The ever present stench of industry, the almost-complete lack of flora.  It was definitely not a place friendly for elves.And the people, the people!  The races she was familiar with were bizaree and totally unlike any Mironallia had encountered.  And worse, there were outright monsters, not just roaming the streets mind you, but interacting with people, drinking at the bars, and going about business as though they're not even aware they have auras of flame and palpable evil about them!  The worst part about it was when she tried to talk to some of them.  Oh sure, she knew it's customary for locals to poke fun at newcomers wherever they went.  But these locals gave her some of the worst derision she'd encountered in her travels.  It was almost as though they considered her more daft than most new arrivals they cross paths with.  Eventually, Mir ran into another group of new arrivals that welcomed her.  Well all of them save one.  She looked vaguely human, only someone had beaten her with an ugly stick, a wart-growth stick, and an awful body-odor stick for good measure.  This woman seemed to have an equally low opinion of her, and of all elves in general.  Oddly enough, the orc (as the woman called herself) wasn't the oddest of the bunch.  There was the metal-man (the likes of which Mir had never even dreamt of), the kobold (familiar enough), the dwarf (rather odd that his oath of choice was by "Moradin's hammer" than by "Reorx's beard") and the hunter, each with their own peculiarities.  This pilgrimage had suddenly become a lot more interesting.</blockquote>

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