Setting and other fun information: This is set in the small medieval village of Bright R'ndomain; mostly farming in what land is left between the three mountain ranges. There have been strange rumors of late and those of the Queen's guard who live in the outpost a day's hard ride by horseback away bring unease with them when they come to seek the aid of the half-elven healer who lives here.. There are perhaps a half score of huts here and the village blacksmith had taken up residence a few months ago. There are two roads leading out of the village one into the tallest range of the Breaknecks in the west and the other to the outpost.
This is a place to enjoy and have fun. Please feel free to join in and become your alter-ego for a bit of time..
*Ellendryle awakened abruptly, the image of a scarred face haunting her mind and fear clutching her heart. Even though it had been a day or so since the strangers came seeking aid, the elf-healer hadnae been able to get a full night's sleep. The best thing she could do was get up and find something to keep busy with, she definatly did not want to go back to sleep and see that face again! She picks up the wooden bucket and quietly leaves the hut, noting the glimmer of reddish orange clouds.. that meant more storms soon. Faint tendrils of woodsmoke drifted up from the inn and the blacksmith's house, 'twas certain she'd have visitors later wanting to know the news. *
This is a place to enjoy and have fun. Please feel free to join in and become your alter-ego for a bit of time..
*Ellendryle awakened abruptly, the image of a scarred face haunting her mind and fear clutching her heart. Even though it had been a day or so since the strangers came seeking aid, the elf-healer hadnae been able to get a full night's sleep. The best thing she could do was get up and find something to keep busy with, she definatly did not want to go back to sleep and see that face again! She picks up the wooden bucket and quietly leaves the hut, noting the glimmer of reddish orange clouds.. that meant more storms soon. Faint tendrils of woodsmoke drifted up from the inn and the blacksmith's house, 'twas certain she'd have visitors later wanting to know the news. *
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