The year had been exceptionally long, longer it seemed than it should have been. The Gods themselves seemed to have selected Gaelwen for special attention. First with the death of her mate and then to lose her parents as they faded and went on to the next life. It was too much, and yet, there was peace no. Now, as the moon rose over the hot springs, filtering green on this particular spot she disrobed and placed her weapons beside the glittering pool. Gaelwen disliked the hot sun, preferring moon bathing, as the night simply felt calmer. The hot springs were quiet, the water the only sound at this late hour, as Gaelwen stepped into a large pool of warm water, moaning as she leaned her head back.

This was the bliss she had needed for some time.


As her eyes slipped closed, Gaelwen felt the tension melting from her limbs and dissolving under the magic of nature. This was a time to start anew, time to look to life and the hunt. The water flowed through her hair, leaving white trails like ancient fishtails trailing beneath the surface, taking with it the pain and uncertainty that had settled in her heart. Sirona, the goddess of light, of storm, had sent tempests for weeks over her home. This night, this night, she had shone her light over the young elf. The light that would guide her forward.


“Now,” she mused, “Where to continue this life, I wonder.” It would be a hard decision to stay here or find a new land, with new possibilities that would bring about a change of winds for her. Meditation and reverie had been elusive on the matter, making the future uncertain and the gods less than helpful. Then again, had there ever been a time when the gods themselves had actually answered a question directly? Surely not that she had heard, either in her lifetime or the lifetime of the elders. Did the Gods answer prayers, did they hear the cries of the children of Revaliir? Surely this was what it meant to have faith, to question your heart but see the divine in every small moment that passed, to see the divine in the moons and their phases and to know that there was more?


She shook her head, laughing at her foolishness and setting her mind to rest. Slowly washing each limb, wistfully going through a ceremony of self-indulgence with each movement, humming as she sank beneath the surface of the water to soak her hair through, only to lay back and float. Lost in thought, and relaxation.

As Gaelwen was msuing on the nature of faith, asking herself the questions of wether or not Gods listened to pleas and prayers of mortal men and women, an singular individual with more mundane concerns on his mind was fast approaching the hot springs.

Johann Helmut-Ribentrop von Blackwald was not having a great day. First he had to take a boat to get to the island in order to meet with his employer and he very well much hated any form of travel based around water, be it sea, river or ocean voyages. Then he had to actualy find his employer, who seemed to activeley avoid any contact with a person they hired to do their job. Then ha had to actualy make a return to the continent, by the fraking boat, in order to complete his assignment after which he had to take the damned and acursed boat back to the island yet again. And if that wasn't enough his employer instead of being normal and staying in one place in order to wait for the return of his employee, vanished leaving behind a note that said that they will be waiting for him at the Hot Springs "When moon will be fully visable and in it's most beautiful shape" whatever that garbage meant.

But unnecesserly semi-poetic stylings aside, the mercenary took upon himself to trek up to the hot springs so he could be payed fair and square for his services as an hired blade. His left hand was resting upon his main weapon, an enchanted Khopesh, while his right rested atop his wide brimmed hat decorated with a red ribbon and two black feathers.

After a good while of just walking, the Adelunan Mercenary finnaly got up the proper destination and……..and there was no sign of his employer
- Scheisse - he cursed underneath his breath as he looked around, finding noone except a singular person that was cleaning themselves. It was an woman, with white hair, peach skin and pointy ears, And Elf of some sort……and boy were those pleasent…….

The Mercenary sighted and weighed his options. He could just leave and return to the continent without getting paid……or he could ask the elf if she had seen anyone coming through here. While an prospect of intruding upon a woman's private time was rather un-appealing to him, he had worked too hard this day to just give up and leave this place empty handed. So he moved up to the spring in which the elven lady was bathing and turned his face towards her.

- Entschuldigen Sie Liebe Frau - He bagun calmly while trying not to come of as…….well…….creep - Have you seen anyone near the springs recently? Someone with an avarage height, white robes, wierd mask and a grey sash/belt around their waist? Talking in overly flowery ways like they were in a performing in front of a public?