Collision on the road.

Angwe

Backstory: 15 years ago, @Tolemy entered the greater part of the land of Sapience from an unknown village of women and bumped into Angwe in Delos.

PART ONE:
[spoiler]Near the peak of an arching limestone bridge.
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A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey. The peak of the arch in this bridge can be seen from here, as well as the other side of the bridge, just barely over the top of it. A brisk wind blows here, coming from the turbulant weather patterns over the chasm created by the drastic pressure differentials from the hole in the earth. Tolemy is here. She wields a plain wooden pipe in her left hand.
You see exits leading northeast and southwest.

She is a resilient Human whose complexion is a fair, muted golden brown. Her face is long and serious; the bridge of her nose is nearly flat, her forehead high, and the brow over her dark, slanted eyes is shallow. Short and fit, her thin frame holds a limber grace. Her hair has been bound up and tucked beneath the many layers of her headdress; what little of it can be seen at the nape of her neck and her temples is black. She walks with the blessing of Slyphe.
She is wearing:
a simple brown pouch, hanging from the belt
tight, tan leggings, worn on the legs
a pale sheepskin cape, hanging from the shoulders
a smothering brown headscarf, draped over the head and shoulders
a white, form fitting blouse, worn over the torso
a beaded belt of reds and browns, strapped around the hips
a lacy white surcoat, worn over the torso
a sleek scabbard of knotted ribbon, wrapped around the waist
a pair of scrimshaw ivory bracers, securing both wrists
ornate, pale boots with curled toes, worn on the feet
sheepskin gaiters with crisscrossing straps, worn over the boots
a headdress of cloth and baubles, worn atop the head
an ivory, gilt-trimmed pack, worn on the back

You nod your head at Tolemy.

Tolemy turns to regard you, offering a smile. "Hello," she says.

You have emoted: "Well met," Angwe returns, inclining his head before making to move on.

"I remember you," Tolemy calls after you.

You have emoted: Angwe slows, glancing over his shoulder. "You know me?"

You have emoted: A surprised smile comes to Angwe's face.

Tolemy brushes her fingertips across her collar bone. "I remember your voice," she explains.

The firmament grows darker as the clouds begin to smother the light.

You have emoted: Angwe slows to a stop and reverses, chuckling to himself as he approaches Tolemy. "You've a clearer memory than I, little traveler! I wasn't sure if you were the same girl."

Looking Tolemy over, you say, "Or not so little anymore. It's been years, ain't it."

Today is the 16th of Lanosian, year 389 of the Midnight Age.
Your innate calendar sense tells you it is autumn.
In your world it is Tuesday, the 30th of April, in the year 2013.

"I wouldn't forget you," Tolemy assures you, widening her eyes. "Not in the number of years its been, and not in a thousand more."

You ask, "Isle of Delos, the Black Flagon? Think it was... 'round 370, weren't it?"

The sun begins her downward journey towards eventual sleep, casting even, full light upon the land.

Tolemy rolls a shoulder, casting her gaze shyly to the ground. "I'm not certain," she admits, quietly, and then adds, "You've changed."

You have emoted: Angwe nods, acknowledging the truth of this. "In many ways, aye."

You wryly say to Tolemy, "The years haven't failed to leave their mark on yourself, either."

A very long length of cream ribbon and a dark leather sheath, cut from its original fitting, form this strange scabbard. The sheath is not large, and seems meant to house little more than a dagger. It is ornately tooled with abstract designs, its whorls and spirals rich with the gleam of well oiled leather. The ribbon has been wrapped a dozen times around the scabbard itself, with enough length left over to wind once around the hips, back around the scabbard another handful of times, and, finally, around the hips again, where the ends can be tied into a tight knot. Though odd, it cannot be said that the scabbard is not effective; the sheath is firmly secured to the back of the left hip, keeping the wearer's weapon within easy reach.

Three distinct layers of cloth, wrapped snugly around the head, form this headdress. The base layer is pale cream cotton, wrapped into a tight little cap, with its ends knotted and tucked under at the base of the skull. Over that is a second, looser layer of grey; it has been embroidered in white with a neat, geometric pattern. It winds twice around the head, draping across the temples and behind the ears. The ends of the fabric are crossed and folded at the back, then brought to the front, where the loose ends are tucked in at the crest of the skull. The last layer is little more than a dark grey headband, patterned with darker stitching, and trimmed with fur of the same hue. It sits high on the head, and ties in the back with the help of two strips of leather. Weaving in and out between the layers of fabric are a handful of trinkets. There are some porcelain beads, a length of ribbon, at least one oversized, metal ring, and the hint of a strip of canvas, which seems to have had odd symbols inked on it.

Tolemy lifts a hand to her cheek, her fingers resting against her jaw. The gaze she lifts is dark, and calm. Her smile is sweet. "No," she says, "I haven't been able to outrun them, though I tried."

A distant keening howl seizes your attention, and you stop to listen. It is the sound of some creature, somewhere, experiencing inutterable sorrow. A chill ripples down your spine as the sound trails off, but you remember...

You have emoted: "You seem to be doing well for yourself-" Angwe falls silent as the Howling echoes throughout the land, his ears standing straight up. His eyeless gaze seems to draw upwards slightly, though it's difficult to tell for certain.

(Market): Calipso says, "Selling gifts, tricks and men's bits."

You have emoted: "...Yourself," Angwe continues at length, turning his attention squarely back to Tolemy. "Find yourself a place to belong?"

(Duiran): You say, "Seems Aarbrok isn't the only Spirean woman with extra parts."

(Duiran): Arbre says, "Huwah?"

(Duiran): Xavin says, "He's referencing calipso's market advertisement."

"What's your name?" Tolemy asks as the mournful cry rips through the land, nearly drowning out her voice. When silence falls again, she is frowning at you. "And...I'm not sure," she answers, honestly.

(Duiran): You say, "To sell men's bits, one must first posses them, no?"

The deepening dusk yields to impenetrable darkness as night claims the land.

You silently summon the shadows to soften and conceal your footsteps.

(Duiran): Aisling says, "One can get them from any man."

(Duiran): Jensen says, "I find some men lack 'em."

(Duiran): Arbre says, "I have a large collection of mens' testis on me."

(Duiran): Xavin says, "...that's awkward Arbre."

(Duiran): You say, "Quite."

(Duiran): Murad says, "Consider the source."

You have emoted: "Uncertainty is a thief that steals our time," Angwe muses, the viridian tempest behind his lids roiling in some imperceptible way. "May you soon be free of it."

Raising his right claw to his chest, you say, "As for my name, it's Angwe. Angwe Arcan."

You incline your head politely to Tolemy.

The sky above you opens up some, leaving only partial cloud cover.

Raising his head, you ask, "Your own?"

Tolemy laughs aloud, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes spark, and her teeth are a white flash behind her fingers. "My mothers," she sighs, giggling, "Would -love- you."

Lowering her hand, Tolemy says, "And I'm Tolemy."

The stars wink into existence, familiar constellations illuminating the night with tales of myth and legend.

You have emoted: Angwe's smile is warm, even with the disconcerting flashes of thin, off-white color it reveals. "Tolemy," he repeats. "Tell me, what've you been doing with your life since last we met?"

You have emoted: "Feel free to summarize where necessary," Angwe adds, reaching under his lupine hood for something.

You remove a slender white cigarette.

You carefully light a slender white cigarette.

You take a long drag from a lit slender white cigarette, holding the insidious, hot smoke in your lungs for a moment.

You exhale a pale cloud of smoke, redolent with pleasant scents.

"Serving," Tolemy says, grabbing the edge of her headscarf and pulling it back. The beads of her headdress click merrily. Her smile is a challenge, her lips closed, her teeth hidden.

Tolemy says, "And you?"

You have emoted: "Growing," Angwe replies, just as concisely. He nods at the scabbard hanging from Tolemy's waist. "Dun look like you've been scrubbing floors in some city-man's manor, though."

Deepest Stygian night steals over the land as the symbolic hourglass empties and turns, ready to begin a new day.
It is now the 17th of Lanosian, year 389 of the Midnight Age.

You tilt your head back and deeply inhale any scents from the air.
You pick up the faint scent of Sotir at Four Corners on Nordau Street.
You pick up the faint scent of Rou at Four Corners on Nordau Street.
You pick up the faint scent of Tolemy at Near the peak of an arching limestone bridge.
You pick up the faint scent of Belanthus at Spectator stands.
You pick up the faint scent of Aala at A grand library.
You pick up the faint scent of Xiuhcoatl at North of Trees.
You pick up the faint scent of Alistaire at A training room.
You pick up the faint scent of Iana at Palace street south of Jeweled Terrace.
You pick up the faint scent of Ciarelle at Within the archive.
You pick up the faint scent of Lianca at Within the archive.
You pick up the faint scent of Gabriele at Before the bridge to Delos.
You pick up the faint scent of Calipso at Highway through the grasslands.
You pick up the faint scent of Cole at Plaza at Jeweled Terrace.
You pick up the faint scent of Sion at Bend in a wide hallway.
You pick up the faint scent of Saybre at East of the gates.
You pick up the faint scent of Mireia at Four Corners on Nordau Street.

You ask with a smile to Tolemy, "You any good with that dagger?"

Tolemy lifts an eyebrow. "I don't kneel for men," she says, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Do you assume that I would?"

Tolemy says, "I don't belong on my knees scrubbing -anyone's- floor."

You have emoted: Angwe hoots and claps his hands. "G'donya!" he cries.

You take a long drag from a lit slender white cigarette, holding the insidious, hot smoke in your lungs for a moment.
The final part of your cigarette burns away to ash.

Tolemy wraps her hand around the hilt of her dagger, squeezing it briefly. "But there's more to service than rich men and cleaning," she explains, and adds, "The dagger is strictly for utility."

You have emoted: "Kneelin' is for the tame," Angwe breaths, rolling the butt of his cigarette into a ball as the last of its smoke seeps from his nose, the hollow caverns of his eyes...

"And the humble," Tolemy shoots back, staring at you bluntly.

You smile and say, "Even the Lord dun demand His to kneel. Prefers us strong, wild. Proud."

Tolemy's lips tip. "What Lord is that?" she asks.

Calipso arrives from the northeast.

You have emoted: "M'lord Eadha, the God of Beasts," Angwe answers. "Lord Haern the Hunter. I am the one of His servents, his... Claw." The widening smile that splits his lips would perhaps be more pleasant if it didn't expose a mouth far too full of broad, fanglike teeth for any one creature.
Near the peak of an arching limestone bridge.
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Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. The peak of the arch in this bridge can be seen from here, as well as the other side of the bridge, just barely over the top of it. A brisk wind blows here, coming from the turbulant weather patterns over the chasm created by the drastic pressure differentials from the hole in the earth. Tolemy is here. She wields a plain wooden pipe in her left hand. Calipso is here, hidden. She wields a gruesome crescent scythe in her hands.
You see exits leading northeast and southwest.

She is a powerful Idreth vampire and is a mesmerizing sight. Her skin is tinged blue, like that of a Kelki, caressing her entire body, yet her appearance speaks of something more than mere Kelki...her breathtaking beauty almost haunting in form. Her body is designed in perfect reflection of the femine form..almost too perfect, from the curves of her bodice to the size of her hips, all the way down to her slender sleek legs, her entire form almost amazonial in perspective. Her height is quite tall, almost to 7 feet, her indomitable form rearing up over any mortal man. That she is aquatic is no mystery, with small rainbow-hued translucent fins extending from her arms and calves. Strangely enough, two large thin translucent dorsal fins extend almost gracefully from her back, somewhat similar to the wings on a butterfly. The two dorsal fins extend sharply upwards, giving the impression that she is able to both glide through not only sea, but skies as well. Her eyes shine like amethyst, the purple hued irises filled with mystery and wonder, energy she no doubt harnessed and channeled to rise into her current Idreth form. Her lush pink hued lips part easily, almost too perfectly, and a faint whisper of a hauntingly beautiful melody fills the room, its song mesmerizing in sound. She has no mortal hair upon her entire sleek form, not even her head, yet several long black tendril locks of midnight flow from her scalp down to her waist, giving almost an illusion of hair. Though she stands before you as almost the epitome of beauty and grace..a dark quality lingers around her that sends a chill in the air. Truly, she is an ascended of her Kelki race. She walks with the blessing of Maghak.
She is wearing:
an exquisite, crystalline diamond choker, around the neck
a thick, purple Tekura belt, around the waist
a length of corrupted prayer beads, around the neck
a silver star nosering stud, through the nose
a silver rose brooch, worn on the shirt
a mesmerizing rainbow ring, worn on a finger
a leather workman's belt, around the waist
feminine trousers of green and gold, worn on the legs
a lace-accented corset of emerald green, covering the torso
a pair of diffusal goggles, covering the eyes
a gold stud earring, worn on the ears
a pack outfitted with petite, bat-like wings, worn on the back
an entwined venantium locket, around the neck
4 silver rings, worn on a finger
a darkbow, slung over a shoulder
a white crystal amulet, around the neck
a snowy quiver, emblazoned with a gyrfalcon crest, worn on the back
a tower shield
an iron ylem-binding gauntlet, worn on the hands
2 clusters of snapdragons, worn on the shirt
3 clusters of chakra blossoms, worn on the shirt
a tiger lily, worn on the shirt

Calipso gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Calipso says, "Oh my dear Angus, you would make such a useful Consanguine."

"Shoo! Shoo!" you say to Calipso as you wave her away.

Calipso leaves to the southwest.

Shaking his head slightly, you say, "Moronic creature."

Tolemy narrows her eyes at the interruption. Her voice is a low murmur. "That one," she says, "Where is she going?"

You shrug helplessly at Tolemy.

You say, "Maybe goin' to jump on an 'Norian's pike, hey? We can hope."

You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Calipso.
Though too far away for you to accurately perceive details, Calipso is in the Pash valley.

You frown and say, "Smells like she's over by the Pachacacha."

You ask Tolemy, "Why? You have some business with that numbskull?"

Tolemy sighs deeply, and nods once. "Very well," she says, wrapping her hands in the long end of scarf. She rests them, swathed in brown fabric, against her chest. "I wouldn't say that. But I do not like her near the Beacon."

You have emoted: Angwe snorts. "She's more a danger to herself 'n anyone else." He scoffs. "Still, might be worth it to keep tabs on her. It ain't as though she dun -try- at grander mischief than her stature."

You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Calipso.
Though too far away for you to accurately perceive details, Calipso is in the Mhojave desert.

You have emoted: Angwe closes his eyes briefly, a look of concentration flashing across his face. "Mhojave," he reports. "Likely headed to that pit under the volcano."

The shadows fade, leaving your footfalls audible once again.

Tolemy snorts loudly. "I know very little about your Lord," she admits, biting her lip.

Riding her chariot of light, the great life-giver rises from her long sleep and shoots a timorous ray over the horizon.

Tolemy says, "Will you tell me of Him?"

Aryanne tells you, "Hello, Ranger Angwe!"

You think for a moment before nodding slowly at Tolemy.

You say to Tolemy, "Meet me in a days time before the Beacon's gates. When the sun rises."

Tolemy nods her head at you.

You say, "I'll take you to see His temple, and p'raps speak of His Ways."

Tolemy's smile is sudden, and it is radiant.

You tell Aryanne, "'Lo there, Aryanne O'lyryus."

Tolemy says, "I would like that very much."

Casting off her final fetters, the luminous lady awakens fully, shedding her joyful light from horizon to horizon.

The sky above you opens up some, leaving only partial cloud cover.

Your pose is now set as:
Hands stuck in his pocket, Angwe is here.

You turn to see Zion shimmer away.

You say to Tolemy, "For now, I have things to attend to... I will meet you then, Tolemy."

Tolemy nods her head at you.

You smile and say, "Blessings of the Heartwood on ye."

Tolemy says, "Until then, be well."
[/spoiler]

Angwe

Warning: Long log is loooooong.

PART TWO:
The next day, Angwe travels to Enorian to meet up with Tolemy as promised.

http://pastebin.com/DH7trnZ4

Angwe

Sooooo.... @Haern, how bad did I mess up the lore?