Darkon, Winter 778The bards voice was clear and joyful in the little room, his lute playing an upbeat tune, much to the enjoyment of those present. Adriano da Cimento, who's real name was Matteo Papacizza but had chosen the other for his stage performances, sat on one of the wooden chairs, boots kicked up on the table as he played, a cup of wine beside him, his dark hair tied back, his dark brown eyes sparking with enjoyment as he watched his companions.
Eifiona, wearing the traditional darkonese elven winter fashions, a white and black dress, danced on one of the tables, twirling on the tips of her boots, laughing as her silvery white hair fell over her face, covering pale skin and violet eyes. Her purse, heavy with coin saved up from several weeks worth of work as a barmaid and associated tips, smacked lightly into her side. She intended to visit the jeweler later and pick up a necklace she intended to gift to someone, the person, she was looking at in this moment in fact.
The half elf Francesca Ovinis, painter and present lover of the flighty dancing elf watched on with a smile, a future painting of a similar scene already forming in her head. The dark haired darkonian woman tapped lightly to the beat with her own expensive shoes, she wore a blue dress, less conforming to her half-kins sense of fashion. On the other end of the table sat Lucius Sentis, a tall and quiet human writing on what was one of his manifests, his visions of Kargs and Darkon overall, future. The buttons of his shirt opened, his cheeks slightly flushed from the amount of wine he had consumed this evening, a fresh cup sitting next to him. Next to him sat the gnomish poet Pangratio Grissoni, wearing an elegant, if at present slightly dishevled suit, his greying beard and hair still immaculate however. The gnome was thinking through his next political series, he intended to capture hearts and minds with them, so they had to be spot on.
Across from them sat the Ciecherella, who never stated her last name, the sculptor wore her golden blonde hair open this evening, her gaze wandering between the dancing elf and one of the windows, where snow fell. She wore her working clothes still, brown trousers, heavy boots, a brown workshirt, all of them covered still with the dust from her craft. They planned to chisel their messages into several of the cities walls in the coming few days, and had practiced to make sure the letters would be spot on.
"One in the morning, two at noon, three at night I will see you soon!"
Eifiona laughed wildly, spinning on the tips of the toes of her boots, her fingertips outstretched, when the music suddenly stopped. Eifiona glanced up, amusement still on her lips, presuming Adriano had played a prank on her. She turned to the bard, then froze. The bard had dropped his instrument and his face displayed a horrified expression. Startled, Eifiona now realized something she hadn't noticed before, a cold draft coming into the room. Men were standing in the doorway, with dark expressions, weapons in hand. They wore dark, nondescript clothing and armor, and by their sides stood shambling figures, a terrible stench reaching her nostrils shortly after.
The men charged into the room, charging at the group. Cries filled the room a moment after. Eifiona watched as a blade was thrust into Francesca's eyes, Adriano raising his instrument to defend himself futilely against the two undead who had come for him. Her horrified eyes met the pained eyes of her lover. She turned her head, when she realized she herself was approached by one of the undead. It's head thrust forwards, biting. The elf cried out in panic, thrusting her heand it's way. It bit into it, pain rushing through Eifionas body. With an act of strength possibly greater than any she had ever performed, she wrenched her hand back, a sickening noise accompanying the action. In blind panic she launched herself from the desk and through one of the half-opened windows, rolling on the floor, then running with all she had, the sound of her boots muffled on the floor.
Suddenly, Eifiona slipped, below her a puddle of ice. She fell down a slope, tumbling down along the way until she fell into a large pile of snow, deposited there by those who kept the roads free of the white mass. She sank into the cold mass, then lay still, having lost any strength, or will to go on. The elf was lying in the snow, quietly crying, as she felt the cold seeping into her, her tears slowly freezing into the snow.
-
Eifona was not sure how long she had been lying in the snow. It was still dark, and she felt cold, so cold. She dug herself out of the snow. She felt like she was in a daze. Her body was cold, her mind foggy, but the fear had not left her. It had sunk into her, taken hold of her. The elf shivered, uncertain of what to do. It was at this point when a memory struck her. It had been decades ago, but she still remembered. She was working in one of the taverns of lower Karg at the time, before she had managed to find better work. An old scholar had been there that day, a human, slightly mad, she suspected. And he had told her of a place, deep in the woods, where something lingered that would speak to those who went there. Who made offers of power.
-
Eifiona left the store, wearing a set of warm clothing, reinforced with leather, a short cloak over her shoulder and a cowl over her head, her legs set in comfortable wandering boots, ready to take her many miles. A sword on her hip, a pack on her back with rations, bedroll and water. Her left hand she had bandaged with linens she had previously soaked in strong alcohol, then covered up with a glove.
The elf began her walk. She had quite a march in front of her, and she wanted to get a head start. Barovia would be her destination. "One in the morning, two at noon, three at night I will see you soon!" She sang briefly, then hummed, she tried, but she couldn’t quite remember how the rest of the song went. It was such a cheerful one. She hummed a few notes of the melody, and a smile showed on her lips. Eifiona could almost pretend to feel the joy.
The elf shivered, her mind locking onto that thought. Power. She could protect herself with power. Eifiona stumbled off, still half-dazed, leaving the city behind.
