Throughout the streets of Iria laughter, joy and conversation could be heard. Songs filled the air, as bards and poets told tales of great adventures and wonderful times under the sun. The men and woman walked around happily, enjoying the sun and the smell of fresh pastries. Children would run along playing catch, or hide and seek, as young men and woman lay in the shade of a willow tree. Enjoying the soft breeze as they fell into a day of romance.

However, in a small inn, a rather tall girl, with deep brown eyes and red hair, sat down on a stool near in front of the bar. With her Lute in hand, and dagger resting on her hip, she appeared to be play a few strings at a time, and whispering under her voice. It appeared that she was attempting to play a song. Although quiet, any person close enough would be treated to her enchanting words. It was as if she was casting a fragile spell. With care and patience.

It didn't take long for her presence to be noticed though. Some shy men and woman, desperate to hear more, soon came and sat near her. While some of the bigger and more brutish types just crowed around her. If Rossie hadn't been so focused on her song, she would of been quite nervous for the company. Thankfully she didn't notice for now. As time went on, she became louder and more confident, yet unaware of the crowd now around her. Then throughout the inn musical notes drifted through the air, cutting out any enchanting vocals she might of had, and replaced them with a tune that the god of dance would of played himself.

The crowd soon began to spread away, yet they did not leave. Instead it was as if Rossie had just placed a spell on their feet. Soon everyone, shy and bold, young and old, weak and strong, customer and owners were on their feet. Everyone of them tapping and moving to the tune of her Lute. Rossie was not exempt from this either. Her normal shyness had been swept away as her mind had begun to go with the music.

Becoming totally unaware of her surroundings, she was off her stool within moments. Dancing with her own beat she twirled in triumph, and the crowd split apart around her. Twirling and dancing, the crowd watched in awe as Rossie played the instrument with such talent and ease, while swiftly danced around the room with such grace. When the beat suddenly became predictable, the crowd around her soon began to clap along. Kicking down a chair, Rossie used it as a stairway up onto the table where she played with such skill and grace.

She continued her song for a few minuets, not uttering one word, but instead letting her musical prowess say it all. With swift kicks into the air, and brilliant twirls, she had became aware of her surroundings. Yet it didn't matter to her, all the fear that would of been there had disappeared, now replaced with happiness and fun. Then without warning she suddenly lost her balance. Her leg slipped of the table and she came crashing down. With a brutal smack her head hit the hard wooden floor. The joyful atmosphere had suddenly dissipated and a feeling of fear and worry flooded in.

Blood, thick and crimson red, seeped through the back of her head, staining the wooden floor. When she opened her eyes, everything was just a faint blur. Her vision soon started to strobe in and out of dark and light tones. Blurry and rough figures of concerned customers surrounded her. Many of which didn't know what to do and begun to panic, all while Rossie lay there in pain and in need of help, after the abrupt end to her little show.

Liselotte was back in Iria again, having caught wind of new exotic ingredients for alchemy for sale. Unlike the horns and hairs of beasts and plant leaves, there were items that contained powerful properties that could be used to imbue items with enchantments. Having spent a good amount of time studying her new book on alchemical enchantment, the lady alchemist was eager to start and only the best quality items would do. Walking the familiar streets of the city that had become her home away from home in her years as a student, she heard a commotion as people were swarming in and out of a local inn. There was an uneasy tension in the air, as looks of worry and fear were upon the people's faces. Something was wrong but the whispers from the crowd spurred within her a new sense of urgency. 

"Oh good heavens! She's gone and hit her head on the floor!" "Is she alright? Somebody quick, call a healer–she's bleeding!" "What should we do? Should we move her and try to stop the wound?" Pushing her way into the crowd, Liselotte came to the center of the cause of the gathering. Her eyes quickly assessed the situation before her and she turned around asking the people nearby loudly. "What happened here? How long has she been like this? I am a graduate from the Mage's Academy and have some medical expertise." One of the men standing closest to the fallen woman spoke up. "The lass was dancin' up on the table there when she slipped and fell. T'was but a moment ago when she were playin' that there lute." He pointed to the stringed instrument lying not too far from the table, eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pity.

"Alright then, time for me to get to work." Immediately Liselotte set down her bag and pulled out her alchemy kit and opened the case with a quick flip of the clasps. Withdrawing a roll of bandages, a bottle of smelling salts, and her canteen she set them on the table and went over to the injured woman. Kneeling, she laid a hand on the red-haired woman's head and cast a healing spell. It would stop the bleeding and repair what damage had been done more quickly than any medicine she had could, and hasten the woman's recovery. Taking the bottle of smelling salts, she placed it under the woman's nose until she woke up. The alchemist didn't want to move her until she gained consciousness. Hopefully the injury was not too grievous, or else she would have to call a healer from the Academy to tend to her. "Hello? Miss, if you can hear me, open your eyes."

She had never treated a concussion before, only cuts and the occasional sprain. Asking for a clean rag, she wiped up some of the blood that had pooled on the floor. By now some of the crowd had thinned, and only a fraction of the bystanders still lingered out of sympathy. "Oh please be alright…" Liselotte whispered as she kept watch over the woman's condition.

Darkness soon surrounded her eyes, leaving nothing but the occasional blur of some colour. Voices came in and out of her mind, carrying no sense or meaning, just the faint thud of voices. However, there was one voice that she was able to separate from all of the other nonsensical thudding. A voice that seemed feminine, although she wasn't entirely sure, a voice that seem to come from a person who knew what they were doing. It was both comforting and clean.

Pictures of beings who could of fitted the voice flooded into her mind. Pictures of her mother, when she wasn't so ill came to mind. It comforted her. In this moment of darkness, she was able to look onto the one person who could truly bring a smile to her lips. Her red hair, which Rossie had inherited. Sapphire blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean. A tall and strong body that could protect you from anything. These were the images that came to mind, when she heard that mysterious voice. Something that could comfort her, even in the dark.

Within moments her eyes were opened wide, and her back was straight. It had appeared that after a few moments of the salts being placed under her nostrils, she had been brought back to life. She had sprung up into a full sitting position, with her eyes wide and wild. She had only fallen a few moments ago, and yet she had almost forgotten where she was. Her wild eyes, filled with fear and confusion, searched the area for any familiarity, however, nothing sprang to mind. Unaware of the woman by her side, who was helping her, she turned her head around like some type of dazed animal, until she came face to face with the woman. Stopping in her tracks, she was silent. Confusion residing in her eyes, yet no fear.

Her mind worked at an unprecedented rate, trying to figure out what just happened, but still nothing. The last thoughts that came to mind where blurry figures standing around her, before her mind was plunged into darkness. For how long, she did not know. She could remember the throbbing in the back of her head, and the sensation of blood pouring out, but when her hand reached for her wound, she found no injury.

Dumbfounded, she placed both her hands, firmly on the ground, before looking back at the woman with rather concerned eyes. "W-What happened?" Her uneasy hand then reached for the back of her head. She knew there had to of been an injury, a cut or even a bruise. It just seemed logical to her, that there would be one.

Liselotte noticed the woman's body twitch and she backed away just before the unconscious woman sprang back to life. Corking the vial of smelling salts, she checked to see how the woman's condition was progress. Dazed and confused, as expected but no other pressing concerns as of yet. Standing up and packing her instruments back into her case, she looked over her shoulder at the bard. "Goodness, that was quite a fall you had there miss. Feeling any better? The pain in the back of your head will subside after a while once the recovery fully sets in. I'd give you something to dull the sensation, but it'll be easier for me to tell if anything else needs fixing without it."

Rinsing out the borrowed rag used to mop up the blood in the inn's kitchen sink, she returned it and thanked the innkeeper for their assistance. Thankfully the bandages and canteen she had prepared would not need to be used with the healing spell having handled most of the work.

As the red-haired woman regained her bearings, she explained to her what had happened. "You suffered a concussion, a nasty one with some bleeding. Someone up there must be looking out for you. You're lucky I happened to come by this way and notice the crowd of people spilling out into the streets. Now, if your vision becomes blurry or your physical condition abruptly changes, I suggest going to the Mage's Academy for further treatment. I may know how to heal a wound and mix medicine, but I am not a healer by occupation." With all of her things packed and accounted for, she went over to the bard's lute sitting on the ground and picked it up. Dusting it off with a handkerchief, she brought it to the woman and handed it to her. "Here you go. Your tools of the trade. Should you choose to continue your current profession, I would earnestly advise you against standing higher than three feet off the ground–for safety reasons." The alchemist smiled at her and shooed the gawkers away from collecting more material for gossip.

This was Evelyn's first time in the City of Iria. She came to the city known for magical learning hoping for an opportunity to get some answers. Since she was a little girl, Evelyn seemed to have a talent in dealing with animals and other creatures; but this skill was raw and never developed because her parents had been against it. Now was her chance to learn more about it, and she was excited at the prospect of developing a magical ability.

She strolled toward a small inn in such unusually high spirits that it took her a moment to come back to reality when a large man dressed in all-black clothing with a nasty-looking expression on his face pushed passed her. He was clutching a bag of what appeared to be coins, and was running. A scream from the direction the man had come from alerted Evelyn that something was wrong. She lunged after him, capturing him around the shins. He tripped and landed face-flat on the floor. Evelyn climbed on top of his back, trying to pin him down, but he turned around and punched her jaw so hard that she fell off him. By the time she picked herself up, the man was gone.

Evelyn lightly touched her hand to her jaw and sighed. It had been a while since she was in a brawl (four days, in fact!); it was bound to happen eventually. She walked to the inn with a somewhat lethargic gate, and was initially surprised with the scene that greeted her. The room was far too quiet for a place that sells beer and ale. People were gathered around a woman on the floor with a confused look on her face, an obvious injury on her head. Another woman kneeled beside her. Some of the witnesses seemed to have seen what they needed to see and appeared to be returning to their tables, mumbling in low tones to one another.

Suddenly, Evelyn realised what must have happened: the man she had encountered earlier must have done something to the red-headed woman on the floor. She approached the two women. "That guy who hit you.. I tried to get him, but he ran off." She said, crossing her arms and looking away - a stance that was somewhat detached from the fact that she was the one who had approached them.