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The Children will not suffer...

Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2008 6:44 pm
by Lilira
"Its bloody cold," the bard muttered to herself. Even with the little trinkets she'd managed to collect over the years, including her boots which had a protection against the cold that was supposed to cover her body, Lilira huddled in her thick fur cloak and shivered. She was perched on a ledge in the middle of the mountains, freezing her non-existent bum off. The icy wind ripped her words out of her mouth and sent them south somewhere. The singer had come up to visit the avatar of Deneir only to run into that damnable shield around him, so she sat and waited, her sour mood increasing with each shiver. She was aware of a cave nearby, but it had housed one of the monoliths and for some reason it didn't feel right to the bard for her to move in, so she froze instead. The enchantments kept away frostbite and the other deadly hazards of the weather, but that strained them to their limits, leaving her uncomfortable.

To take her mind off of the miserable conditions as snow piled to turn her into a half-elven ice sculpture, Lilira began planning. She had promised Ashstone orphans. Initially the Lady had requested slaves, but the idea of slavery left a bad taste in Lil's mouth, and while she recognized its existence, she also knew it was far too widely spread for her to make a difference. Instead, Lilira proposed an alternative. Children, who had no homes or families elsewhere, could be relocated to the new city to add small hands to free larger ones for more important tasks. It would also provide the city a future, those same hands having pride in their new home as they aided in its building. They could also bring purpose to those who still mourned the loss of their own children. Lilira always had a soft spot for them, and recognized the failing in herself that would never permit her to have her own. If she could give lives and opportunities to some who did not, the bard would find a way, even if it meant paying for their necessities out of her own purse. Money meant little when there was no one to share it with.

In the process of giving her suggestion, the bard hoped she had made it quite clear to Lady Ashstone that she would personally be checking in on them regularly to ensure they were being taken care of. Hard work was one thing, abuse another. Something the Lady said during their conversation, after the departure of an odd person Lilira had never met before, pulled something to the forefront of her mind, hence the reason she was perched on this thrice cursed mountain ledge freezing.

Wagons. Clothing, provisions. All those would have to be gathered. As for the actual children... perhaps Alyo could be of aid in Baulder's Gate for a start. As it was, Lilira would be leaning upon the ladies who were relocated to help keep a weather eye upon those the bard would bring.

Gods help her, transporting twenty of them would be difficult, she only hoped friends would answer her call to lend aid when the time came.

Re: The Children will not suffer...

Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 1:50 am
by Lilira
Lilira strode through the door of her house in Arnd'ir, casually tossing her cloak over the back of a linen enshrouded chair while dropping her pack just inside the door. She paced the floor with legs that were accustomed to long journeys on foot, and cursed silently under her breath. "Be careful what you ask for," she muttered under her breath, "Denier just might give it to you."

The bard stopped, and sighed loudly, moving over to lay wood and light her stove to start some tea. A soothing blend went into the pot and she resumed her pacing. What to do? Confrontation? Such a thing was not part of her nature unless completely backed into a corner. Her first instinct was to protect. Send messages to the people who mattered most and warn them of the snake that slithered within, spying then reporting her activities, attempting to sabotage. No. Somehow Lilira sensed 'that one' was tied somehow to one she would protect, and truly the hypocrisy was laughable.

The kettle sang, and Lilira poured the hot water into the tea pot to steep with the herbs. She inhaled their delicate fragrance, drumming her fingers upon the workspace in agitation.

No. She would remain silent, and watch. Watch for another betrayal and hope the 'snake' revealed his fangs before striking again.

One thing was for certain. Her 'children' would be protected from it.