Underleaf's Thread

[Underleaf]

Character Notes

Name: Akua 'Uhane

Gender: Female
Heigh: 5'6" ish
Body Type: Lithe
Eyes: Leafy Green
Ears: Slightly pointed

Race: Elf or Half-elf
Markings: Tattoo on right hand, finger to wrist
Hair: Note from Discord your hair as you sifted your fingers through the loose tangles was a braided loop around the top of your head in the rough shape of a circlet with what feels like a rose knot at the rear. The remaining hair falls down your back roughly to the middle of your back. The braided circlet does a good job of keeping the hair out of your eyes and off your ears while allowing the majority of your hair freedom at the back.

Class: Bard

Stats: -1 Strength
You can read and write: Elven
12 base score to Dex
15 base score to Cha

Spells: Detect Magic (cast ritually), Dissonant Whispers
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation

Proficiencies:
Crossbows
Herbalism Kit

Thoughts on Character

Likely a goddess.

Per OOC: Players seemed prophetic in initial descriptions

Me was written as calm, focused on her body. Perhaps a monk or cleric? Druid? Druid seems less likely. Leaning towards Cleric or Sorcerer. Sorcerer seems less likely. Ok, I'm either a bard, sorcerer, wizard or artificer. This is from the cantrips, only those classes are possible (unless there is a feat involved). Currently, believe wizard is the most likely due to the vision of the spell on a page.

Un-scarred. Maybe a noble?

Hair implies either nobility or some other person of importance.

What's the deal with the sage?

Background Feature: Shelter of the Faithful modified in some way off of the book...does not mean she is an acolyte

I'M A SPELLCASTER BABY!

Knowledge: Akua recalls that the shadow realm has representation, just as other realms do, in the animal world. Things like whatever those were, just have an affinity for other planes. You'd guess those things showed their "trick" as an instinct to your presence.

 

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #1 - 1 / 4 Memory Tokens

Sage Branch.

The physical properties of the herb were easily enough to identify, but to you, the herb itself is also rare. While the faces and names still elude your mind, other fragments of your mind are already starting to come back to you.

The scent of sage reminds you of a holiday, tradition, or a cultural significant event. Describe it.

 

Memory Token Writing Prompt #1

Soft music played. Rhythmic drums and a lute, they sound far away, she knows their presence is important, the melody specific. Warm sunlight floods through an opening in the ceiling...no, not a ceiling really. Foliage, branches layered above to form an intentional canopy. She looks up, letting the ray of sunshine warm her face.

A voice calls to her. It said her name. He said her name. Who was he? What name did he call her? Other voices, order being brought to controlled chaos. She laughed. Why did she laugh? Warmth again, but of a different nature. An embrace, a woman's voice muffled against her hair.

That scent. The sage. The music stopped and a single voice was heard. A woman's. Was it hers? The scent was stronger, it was being used in a ceremony. A mithril bowl with water and a floating candle. The flame bright came into focus, then the grey wisps from the smoking sage was the center of her vision.

The bundle of sage and smoke appeared over a pair of hands. A man's and a woman's. Their fingers interwoven and ribbon wrapped around them. The woman's hand was the left, the skin was pale and delicate, but was it her own? The voice chanted words she could not hear.

The memory washed over with a final warmth, one internal. A warmth of love and joy. Did she feel it for herself or for others? Had she performed the ceremony of marriage or was she married?

 

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #2 - 2 / 4 Memory Tokens

Dark Hallway.

The atrium and neighboring cells were well lit by the chandelier hanging overhead. As Kalagos headed back, it left you and the kobold to mind for yourself. The kobold did not look terribly concerned and dug through the wardrobe with ease. You too found that the lack of light was not a deterrent. Your eyes adjusted rather quickly and the outlines of furniture and people were easy enough to see with some distinction.

But instinctively, your mind reached for some other option, even as your eyes naturally solved the problem of darkness. An act of utilitarianism or perhaps an instinctual act of kindness for someone beyond yourself. Alongside the practicality of collecting everything you can get your hands on, it would seem you have at some point in your life felt hopelessness in regards to your own abilities.

Briefly describe the location where you first cast this spell. You may also provide how it was used if you like, but it's not required.

You gain the use of the Cantrip Light or Dancing Lights. You may choose.

 

Memory Token Writing Prompt #2

There was an uneasy feeling deep within her, something that called to her past, though she couldn't place it. The unknown, not the lack of knowledge of where or who she was, no, it was the unknown future that caused the elf to collect and gather what she could for survival...and protection.

As she wrapped the settings into her makeshift bag, a cold chill caused the hairs on her neck to stand. The cold sank into her skin and to her bones. The moldy cheese pushed her memory further. A moment flashed, then a few. Akua was alone. She knew she was younger, but how much younger, she had no idea.

Her eyes closed, her breathing slowed as she tried to control the flood of the memory. A tattered cloth lay on a forest floor. Atop it was gathered scavenged debris. A cup, a necklace, parchment...she knew these were important, but no idea why. A sound, branches being broken and a male's voice. Deep and bellowing. Angry. It called for her and she felt her heart race with the fear of a battle about to be lost.

And then the moment was gone.
 

---

 

Walking into the darkness, she knew not to be concerned with an inability to see. Somethings were inherent knowledge, there was blood in her veins and she could see with no light. That single thought, the security in that, brought a tickle to her mind. She knew in that split second that it was a gift of her heritage, not something all could claim as their own.

The sound of the bars slamming shut of the final two cells sent crashes of lightning across her inner thoughts. She was transported, sitting among children. There was pride and panic in her heart, and Akua recalled the moment with clarity. She had been given a task to protect and calm the children of the village during a battle. The lightning was not a storm.

"Shhh. All will be alright." She heard herself saying over the cries of the little ones. She had no children of her one. Not in this moment. Do I now? The thought is fleeting as another loud crash outside causes a child to grab her.

"Ok. Ok." She lifted the child up, his wide round eyes filled with tears. She felt desperate, no way to calm them, no way to draw their attention to where their parents were. Moving around the space her mind could not recall, she bounced him on her hip. "I need a candle..." Her whispered words were to herself. Akua chuckled remembering the thought of a light puppet show.

A moment later, the little boy was leaning back, eyes bright, reflecting a glow that was pooling together on her chest. Then fours pale yellow orbs floated up from her. The children watched them in awe. She knew the balls of light were used to entertain the fear filled youth for hours, until sleep finally found them from exhaustion.

The clear memory brought a wistful smile to Akua's lips.

 

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #3 - 3 / 4 Memory Tokens

Smell of Death.

Natural Death is not a disease your people have an abundance of experience dealing with in your lifetime. It is the boggart that slinks around in the darkness only in the rarest of occasions. When it does come into the homes of your people, it is invited.

But you instinctively know you are different. How or why are questions you likely asked long ago, and maybe you found answers. But you do not recall them in your current state. So Death -natural or otherwise- has always been a curiosity for you. Your curiosity is not morbid or profoundly worrisome, but the jest of a child among her elders. A spring sapling, among the Great Oaks, asking if you'll regrow your leaves after the autumn frost.

You once discovered a dead body before anyone else and you were alone with it for long enough to quench some of your questions. What truths did you uncover?

 

Memory Token Writing Prompt #3

It was the scent. The sickly sweetness of something wrong. Confused and curious. Now, as it was then. Then?

Akua's mind flashes a face she doesn't recognize. Eyes that no longer think, stare to the side, where its head is tilted. Their blank glare following a path she didn't understand.

The feel of Kalagos's hand jolted her. A comforting squeeze and her mind reeled again.

It was her own hand she saw. Lying beside the dead body, the eyes that trailed a forgotten course now locked with her own. Akua's fingers were on the dead woman's cheeks, her pale grey skin cold and stiff like dried leather. No bounce that life would bring.

Now the sound of the mud pulling on her sandals grabbed her attention. It echoed in her ears.

She was removing the arrows from the woman's chest. They released with a gasp from the muscles that died around them. A tear fell from Akua's cheek. The woman's pointed ears informed her that the woman's time had come too soon. There was no way to know if anyone knew she lay here, and she deserved a proper burial, proper death rights. Moments flashed, cleaning the woman's hands, righting her clothing, closing her eyes. She had oils with her, they smelled of peace. Her thumb pressed into the woman's forehead as Akua said a prayer. What were the words?

Her mind strained to recall what she spoke.

And then she was back, standing before the mounds that drew her attention.

 

Sorry for the long delay. I've been mulling over the reward for a bit and I didn't have that 'Aha!' moment with this one.

Reward for Writing Prompt #3: You are proficient with the Herbalism Kit.

[Underleaf]

Basil

You may decide your Dex score from the following numbers:

15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8

Underleaf

12... this feels right...right?

Basil

It's totally up to you. It's safe to assume that those other numbers will show up later for other stats.

Remember to denote racial mods to the stats when putting it on your character sheet (or just keeping a running tab somewhere).

Underleaf

I'm still not sure if I'm a full elf or half elf...and if a full elf, which kind! LOL

Basil

Add Prestidigitation to your repertoire.

I'll let you describe it because it might be more fun that way, but Akua does not know Ray of Sickness nor any ray spells for that matter.

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #3 -

Magical Debris.

Seeing the flecks of magical dust swirl about in the destroyed tower is a reminder that all things that exist can be seen with the naked eye. Magic graces many things and takes many forms, but it is not always something to be controlled. It does not exist indefinitely. The lifecycle of magic is fickle -it ebbs and flows like a wild river- and no one knows that more than the long-lived elves. who see all that is mortal come to an end eventually.

This isn't the first time Akua has seen the magical essence of something expire. What role did she play the last time she experienced it?

 

Memory Writing Prompt #4

Motes of stardust dance in the aether, tickling her mind to a time forgotten. To a life lost. To a memory she didn't want to remember.

A voice from behind her. An elder, sagely in his tone. His words are muffled but Akua nods in agreement, the feel of a thin line of moisture trails down her cheek. 

"Ennas ach na nislesh té.""There has to be another way." She heard herself say. Her eyes blinked, the dark room began to come into focus around her. A loud explosion was heard from beyond the walls. Sulfur filled her nostrils and an unseen heat warmed her skin.

"Baw, Im iest ennas era.""No, I wish there was." He moved past her, the hood of his robe hiding his face, though wisps of his greying beard flow towards her. He gathered ancient tomes, instruments and glass jars full of colored liquids, stacking them into a cart, moving faster than an old man should while she remained still.

Akua followed him, her eyes looked back over the space. Objects she recognized, but could not recall, filled the room she knew she loved. Her pale thin hands wrapped around his arm. "Im tur ú gwann cin!""I will not leave you." His bespectacled gaze met hers, as he gingerly pulled her fingers loose.

His lips curled into a soft smile. "Lilinoe, Im heni cin heni eshi na nor. Cin gar nor tull o cín cuil. Hi gar nin cuil's bodui a nor. Im tur buui cin anand.""Lilinoe, I know you know how to run. You have run most of your life. Now take my life's work and run. I will buy you time." His arthritic hands cupped her cheeks as he kissed her forehead.

She closed her eyes then felt the uneven earth below each clap of a hoof. Craning her neck behind her, Akua saw the cart tethered, bouncing and kicking up dirt. Bright green tendrils of magic whipped out of the windows of the hut she knew she had just been in. Silhouetted figured approached, weapons raised. He was waiting too long, the thought forced its way into her mind.

And then she saw it. A small bead of yellow, hinted with green, like the first growth in spring. It flew from a broken window, and landed too close to the hut. It expanded into a massive dome, she felt the wave of energy hit her like a sonic push. Birds fell from tree branches, the forest groaned with the sudden loss of life. In the distance, the warriors folded to the ground like ragdolls and a silence from the hut signaled what she knew would come. Tears welled in her eyes as she cast the spell to confirm, motes of stardust danced in the aether, scattering in the wind as there was no longer a wielder of the magic present.

 

You know instantly that the reason the memory is strong is because you've held it close to your heart for a very long time. It's the last moments with your father. The last time you heard his voice. Saw his face. Followed his wishes. Experienced his essence as it drifted into the aether.

Daovesti. The name of your people. It rings in the air like wind chimes on a soft spring afternoon. Your elven blood could remain a mystery for only so long before it came back to you. The name holds with it a power that you both adore and hate, but the reason for those emotions are still shrouded for now. But you do know that your heritage and your life are intertwined.

Daovesti Elf, half-blood

Ability Score Increase
Your Charisma score increases by 2, and your Dexterity score increases by 1.

Speed
Your base walking speed is 30 feet.

Darkvision
Thanks to your elf blood, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Fey Ancestry
You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can’t put you to sleep.

Magical Detection (see House of the Marked in the Half-Elf section of DnD Beyond)
You can cast the detect magic and detect poison and disease spells with this trait. Starting at 3rd level, you can also cast the see invisibility spell with it. Once you cast any of these spells with this trait, you can’t cast that spell with it again until you finish a long rest. Wisdom is your spellcasting ability for these spells, and you don’t require material components for them.

Spells of the Mark (see House of the Marked in the Half-Elf section of DnD Beyond)
If you have the Spellcasting or the Pact Magic class feature, the spells on the Mark of Detection Spells table are added to the spell list of your spellcasting class.

Spell Level Spells
1st detect evil and good, detect poison and disease
2nd detect thoughts, find traps
3rd clairvoyance, nondetection
4th arcane eye, divination
5th legend lore

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #4 -

Dragon

The kick of dragon wings overhead caught her attention long before the shadow washed over the tower. Akua and Jack had been on the first floor organizing books, otherwise she might have missed it. As she climbed the staircase to get a better look, she saw the swooping majestic flight of the dragon. She'd never seen a dragon with such a terrifying color scheme on its scales. It almost felt like the black sheen swallowed the surrounding shimmer of the surrounding sea.

As it landed on the ship, she watched in amazement as it seemed to converse -or at least not immediately destroy- the denizens of the ship. The fear of being eaten caused her stomach to rumble, a strange response to such an awe-inspiring scene.

Instantly, she knew that a dragon with a full belly was far easier to deal with. She's been at a feast where the honorary guest was a dragon. What color was it and what food was offered to it to eat?

 

Memory Token-Dragon

The black dragon arched its neck down, conversing with those on the deck below. Akua felt a warmth in her heart at the thought, and a bubble of laughter escaped as her belly grumbled.

The fire was kept steady, the half-elven female poked at the flames, helping them lick the boar that rotated on the spit above. "Not for nothing, Brizzir, but I thought dragons are supposed to be able to handle lighting a fire whenever they need it." A deep rumbling chuckle echoed through the trees. "And I thought all mixed breeds were trouble-makers."

In the pot resting inside the rock circle of the pit, Lilinoe stirred a stew that made her mouth water in anticipation. "Who said we aren't." She sent a playful wink into the darkness. A large emerald claw reached out of the shadows and tugged gently on the cooking animal, juices coating its nail before pulling back. "True. But, alas, your misconception is exactly that. Should I use my breath now, only you, my sweet, would suffer." A moment later a man walked out of the woodline, tall and muscular. Deep chestnut hair lay thick upon his head in waves until his shoulders. His jaw was chiseled like the ancient statues of old. Pale crystal-like eyes, set in contrast to his sunkissed skin, sparkled in the firelight. Just the sight of him made her knees weak. "This all smells delicious." Brizzir approached her, sliding his arm around her waist, pulling her close and whispered seductively in her ear. "Are you sure we need to go to the banquet?"

Lilinoe's cheeks flushed. "Stop. This is all for you. They want to offer you a traditional meal, the hunt earlier a ritual these people have followed for generations, this recipe handed down over hundreds of years." She placed a kiss on his stubble guarded lips. "While there may not be true magic in this, these people wish to honor Brizzir, The Guardian of Lore...the great emerald dragon who protects their histories and shares their stories with the future." He pulled her in closer, his lips peppering her neck while his nose slid into her hair...

The memory faded with pangs of longing and sadness. Her eyes fell once more upon the black dragon in the distance, a sickness now growing in her belly.

 

Memory Token Writing Prompt #5 -

Ruined Books

Many of the books are took far destroyed to give her a clue as to what they held within. But she did realize that many of the books, at least in this particular pile, were all relatively similar in both binding and handwriting. Eventually she's even able to find a name. The author of the books seems pretty prolific, once she spreads out the books to see how many are likely written by him. Many seem to be ledgers or simple thoughts or diaries. Some are in shorthand or even stopped midway through a thought and picked up elsewhere. But all of them have been written from binding to binding. The sheer amount is impressive. She can appreciate the artisanship of such an endeavor even if the art itself is lost to her due to the damage and lack of context. A man may have to write into the wee hours of the night to accomplish such a feat.

Her hand plays with the lantern a moment longer before realizing that there's not actually any oil in it. It casts light without oil, curious.

Even with darkvision, the mortality of sight can only remain focused for so long before tiredness takes it. A lantern such as this would have been an exquisite gift. When was a time that Akua got so engrossed in a creative craft that she could have benefited from a steady light nearby? What did she make?

 

Memory Token-Ruined Books

Dust scattered in the lamplight over the numerous books by Ardum. She wondered what would cause him to write so feverishly, what subject would have driven a mind to focus so consistently on a single task. The mere thought caused her fingers to cramp.

Armidius. The name of the village flared in her mind. Akua could hear the locals walking to the tavern, passing the workshop she sat in. Heat flushed her skin, her lungs burned from exhaustion and the tips of her fingers were calloused thick against the manual labor. The half-elven maiden's hands worked a blue pigment into a hot, malleable, sheet of almost-glass. She smiled as the color swirled into the clear sheet, knowing it would be perfect for Kaylin. The only light was cast from the furnace, providing a glow within the chamber.

Akua felt the tip of the warmed blowpipe against her lips, the sheet now softened and balled against the end, then rolled out on a marver. Her cheeks puffed out, air pushed through the pipe, and the ball slowly expanded while being carefully shaped with delicate curves. Green eyes spied above her, seeing four other glass shapes with cerulean streaks, hung with care from the ceiling in preparation for the final piece.

It had been hours since the last of the villagers had stumbled home from the tavern next door. The final piece had been shaped and cooled, shafts of glass secured to each bulb previously formed, holding them equidistant to each other. The female knew the completed craft was beautiful. It was what Kaylin had ordered. Her eyes and fingers and lungs were tired, but she was filled with the joy that only creating something can bring.

She looked down at the books, her fingers toiling with a disintegrating page. The knowledge of the name of a town she had once lived and a skill she had forgotten, now held within her mind.

 

Passion came in many forms, and the two most notable to Akua sat at different ends of the spectrum. There was the white-hot burn that came with emotion-led motivations. Revenge. Sorrow. Love. There was the slow red embers when something required technique, patience, and forethought. Artistry. Honor. Remembrance.

Akua is led by this dichotomy in a beautiful fit of controlled chaos. She's pulled the very essence of these things from the world itself and harnessed it in a way that only a few possess.

Congratulations, Akua. Your class is Bard. You may add a level of it to your Character Sheet, with all its bells and whistles. You may also use the following scores to choose your WIS score:

15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #6 -

The words: Deep Wood, Outside World

The words were the same, but the speaker was different. So too was the context, but it was emotionally charged enough to conjure up memories.

Akua's sister had spoken those words. Accused Akua of being a part of those things before. It didn't matter that their lives were so intertwined that only the most innate things differentiated them to most outside eyes. It was the little things that felt like chasms.

"These woods aren't deep enough for you. You're too worldly." - The words were meant as an insult used at the perfect time to exact the right amount of pain. The kind of pain only those close to you can inflict.


What was the argument over and what did Akua's sister mean by them?

 

Deep Wood, Outside World

Drifting off to sleep, Akua felt herself fade into the ocean of dreams that awaited her.

"Lili. Lili, are you even listening to me?" A woman's voice pestered her from behind.

"Of course I am, Pakaʻa. Of course I am..." She heard her own voice say as colors began to come into focus. Her hands were in front of her, moving items into a pack.

"Then look at me. Look at me and explain to me what...why...why you are doing this." The other woman's voice was pitched, emotional.

Akua felt herself sigh and slowly turn. Her vision swam with confusion as she looked upon herself without the aid of a mirror. The woman who spoke to her was identical to the image she had seen in the mirror when she had first awoken. She heard herself begin to speak again. "Pak...I've already explained. I want to understand who he was...or is. If I can find him...could you imagine?" The youthful optimism was evident, hope laced every word.

"Why does it matter?" Moisture pooled in her sister's eyes but was held back by the anger that was evident in the tone of the question.

"We're half Daovesti. We're loved and hated for it. Don't you want to know why? Mom is completely unwilling to explain! You're harassing me 'How can you be leaving?'. Really, the question should be 'Why aren't you coming with me?'." Her own voice raised now, frustration from the repetitive argument she knew they had had many times. Akua spun back to her task, forcing clothing into the pack.

"You are really going to stick to that bull shit story, Lili? Try the truth this time. These woods aren't deep enough for you." Her voice cracked. "You're too worldly. You're too curious. We're the same...and yet we couldn't be more different."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to prevent tears from escaping.

The dream faded in a swirl of dark mist. No matter how hard she tried to grasp back to the memory, it slipped past unable to reconnect.

 

Passion can come in many different forms, and Akua has seen her own passion work in her favor. She's also seen it stunt relationships with others. You may choose your CHARISMA score.

15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8

[Underleaf]

Dream-Red Forest

The forest was dyed red, something never before seen in this age. What caused this strange phenomenon, and why was it your fault?

Her rest was fitful. Eyes fluttering open, warm firelight casting long streaks on the floorboards in the gap at the base of the bedroom door. Now and then blended together until the amber tendrils took root in her mind, and sleep finally claimed her.

Loss and death had become a constant in her life. With every breath, Akua felt the pain of those she had lost. The cut was deep within her heart, and it fueled a defiant anger. She would not accept what fate had given her. She would not continue to run. She would not allow the unknown spirits to control her path, she would force the universe to answer to her will, to give back what it had taken.

Music filled her ears, while macabre magicks filled her vision. Names of people she knew she knew, though mostly not recognized, were etched on wooden tablets. Few called out familiarity. Brizzir, Paka'a, Nevarth...

The scent of sulfur wrapped around her as Akua heard her own voice scream out ancient forbidden words. The ground shook and the trees bellowed the names scribed on the tablets. A whirl of wind and leaves whipped around the daovesti, power surged within her veins and lungs. She felt the spirits fighting her magic, vines tore out of the earth and pulled her down, denying the full force of what the woman was casting.

Time lost all meaning, how long she fought the forces she did not know, but when the wind settled and the scent of sulfur ceased, Akua lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by birch trees that now had crimson bark. Closing her eyes, she could hear the voices of those she had tried to bring back, they called from sanguine timber, their blood weeping from the once white wood.

 

As the dream faded and her screams became real a last glimpse of the sanguine forest caught in her eyes and twisted throaty laughter of her sister filled her waking mind.

For your past experiments with the veil of death, choose your Intelligence Score.
15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8

[Underleaf]

Memory Token Writing Prompt #7 -

Ruined Waystation

The facts of the waystations use come like a register, something dry read in a book with no emotional connection - but the thought of dwarves chimes differently. Dwarves once welcomed you into their homes and sheltered you for a time. What were you running from - and where were you headed?

 

Memory Token-Ruined Waystation

The warmth she felt countered the cold air of reality. The poem turned into lyrics beckoned music from her past. Loud laughter layered with a lute and a boisterous song that was certainly lewd in nature. Akua heard herself laughing as drips of honey-mead found their way down her chin.

She was in a tavern, deep aged mahogany tables and heavy stone worked walls held the warmth of the blazing fire in the hearth that was offered to the patrons present. Four dwarves sat at her table, their red beards were braided and beautiful, and also dripping with mead. Their eyes were kind and their voices were booming as they sang along with the bard on-stage. He was singing favorites of the local folk. Myrtle Married Me and Lost My Beard to a Fairy filled her memory. Akua took turns dancing with each of the four, then many others. She was the only elf in the tavern, she knew that to be significant. They had taken her in, offered her shelter and kindness when the road and wood had offered her none.

The night wore on till they spun and wove her to the stage. All quieted, only the shuffle of wood on wood as the many round dwarves found their seats. The jovial talent handed her his lute. "They'd like tah hear yer tale once more, lass." Slowly, carefully, she took the instrument and stepped upon the stage. A single stool waited for her.

Akua's fingers strummed the strings till she found her chord.

"The days they pass
The seasons do to
When the darkness falls
And memories fade
A fresh start is waiting for you

But the wind recalls
And knows your name
And beckons the past
To replay its game

Family and love and life
They wait and they chase for you

But the wind whips by
And scars your name
And pays the future
To rig its game

So I ran from what I knew
I ran from my family
That lied and they died
I ran from my love
That could never survive
And I ran from my life...

She gasped softly at the word, a tear trailing down her cheek.

"And I ran from my life
But I found what I found

What I found was you."

 

The dwaven player wiped a tear from his eye and took back his lute from Akua. "Aye lass, mighty fine song ya got there - I do think it would be better in dwarven."

Your time spent with the dwaves rubbed off on you as much as it impacted them. You are proficient in Dwarven

[Underleaf]

Dream #2

Akua sleeps quickly following her midnight watch and dreams, as her subconscious takes control in the realm of sleep it pieces the fragments of the journal together.

Entry 2

I'm a Seer! Whatever that means... Ardum tried to explain it to me.. it was a lot of information at the same time, including on how I arrived here, I don't think I have the best grasp.. but I'll write what I know down.
Intakes are souls that have been brought back from the 'beyond' (I'm calling it that because its what feels right from my memories... Ardum used different wording for it) who found a way back - still fuzzy on this.

• Seers are rare intakes (there has only been one other one in recorded Bastion history - theorized to be more, while there have been thousands of intakes)
• We (Seers... odd to include myself in that still) have the ability to tap into the 'beyond' and see strong emotional currents and pivotal point other soul's lives..
• From what I've understood is that the 'beyond' is out of the normal passing of time which means my 'dreams' or visions as Ardum calls them could be of the future, past or present.
• Anyway, Ardum says I should find a place to meditate and try to enter the "vision state" easier.. I've always loved the beach, maybe I'll explore the coast for something.

Ardum got me some new materials to work with when he saw some of my sketches. They seem to work pretty well. I haven't had much success meditating but I have been dreaming for the last three nights of a half-elven woman., I've tried to capture her face as best I can remember it. The sketches help in remembering the dream.

She was crowned in a crown of flowers, a regal green and gold gown flowing in the gentle fall breeze. She was standing on a semi circular dais, speaking to similarly dressed woman sitting on the peripheral of the dais. The wind peacefully flowed around her and her words as she orated passionately - the ebb and flow of her meaning crossing more than words and reaching some primal chord being played melodically through the listeners. Discord - one of the listeners stood up abruptly and started yelling at some of the other listeners, who in turn stood up and yelled back. Before long the emotional chord the woman had been playing was drowned out by the chaos of verbal discourse. She attempted to regain control, to have them listen to the peaceful tune, to rise and fall with the gentle breeze, but they ignored her. She slumped to her knees as the fighting broke out, as swords were drawn. A firm but gentle grip guided her away from the soon to be carnage as the breeze playfully danced in her hair.

Akua's dreams have another idea and dig deeper into the last paragraph of the entry, unlocking a memory in her mind. Who guided her away? What happened next?

 

Dream #2-A Rescue

Lilinoe stood central to the audience, a stage for a gifted performer. She told tales of old, sang songs of shared histories, and provided her own interpretation of the allegories for both. Her purpose was to help, a mediator between warring clans, remind them of their past, of their former unity. Everything was planned, orchestrated by the woman at the edge of the dais, her mother. The human woman had born and raised twin Daovesti. She had spent her life trying to make the wood a better place for her daughters, and now she watched as the one gifted in performance, with the ability to sway emotions, offered her talents to help affect treaty talks.

But a note fell flat or a word was misplaced. The magic of Lilinoe's performance was broken, and the peace shattered before her eyes. In the flurry of new battles, enemies were unclear. The woman who had brought them together with hope was undone by the hatred the parties felt for each other. Lilinoe watched in horror as her mother tried to stop two warriors from attacking each other. Their blades still stabbed forward, both going through the woman to reach for their enemy. Neither seemed to notice as the woman fell at their feet.

Lilinoe screamed, though none heard, and her knees gave way below her. "MOM!" Her cry was muffled by the clash of blades on shields. A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "Stand up, you have to come with me now." His voice was soft and smooth, in stark contrast with the scene around them, in contrast to the emotions that flooded her. She looked up and saw a man she did not recognize. His emerald eyes were bright like gems in sunlight, his features reminded her of the myths of old. "You must come with me. You will die here if you stay and your talents are too great to be lost on this day." The half-elf felt the pain fade. A numbness washed over her. She knew magic well enough to know this man had taken control of her. But she didn't care, she knew he would keep her safe.

He lifted her and carried her through the ensuing battle. They left the amphitheater untouched by a single blade and disappeared into the forest. "You shall be called Akua from now on. Lilinoe is dead, as is her mother. It will not be safe for you to return home ever again, my sweet. Do you understand?" The stubble of his cheek brushed against her jawline as he whispered in her ear. She nodded. Tears streamed down her face, the fear and sadness breaking through whatever spell she was under.

 

[Underleaf]

Suspected Akua Timeline

-Inspected dead woman
-Was a glass artisan in Armidius
-Left home in search of father
-Watched over children during a battle
-Father died
-Participated in a marriage ceremony (unclear role)
-Mother died, rescued/captured by Brizzir, renamed Akua
-Dated a dragon
-Tried to resurrect the dead
-Running from someone in a forest with a collection of scraps
-Befriended dwarves