If you'd like someone to help her on her way, I can happily offer a wagon and perhaps a restorative drink. ;)  My peddler could serve either as a transport for Eadon Sedai or a messenger. :)  Let me know. :)

ooh, welcome.  It's nice to see people writing :D  If you want to meet up with a peddler or a bard, I'm always up for something :D

I could be persuaded to make a bander... ;)

A mercenary would be excellent - plenty of opportunities for RPing with lots of different people :D

~Nadeann~

The cold was not affecting her old bones anywhere near as much this morning.  As though she had not slept under a hedge the night before, Nadeann walked the few remaining miles to Cairhien.  Had she worn the multicoloured cloak of a Gleeman, she doubted she would have had to suffer the night’s cold fingers on her aching back, but the divide between men and women still remained in some areas.  Women were expected to be delicate and pretty, or else still delicate and pretty and an Aes Sedai.  My, I’ve become so cynical in my old age!  The situation isn’t half as bad as I make out, but with regards to matters of performance, people want either something to look at or a table singer; a performer such as myself is not what they want to look at!    Nadeann snorted at her own thoughts and trudged onwards over the grassy countryside until she rejoined the main road leading to the Foregate.

To look at her, a person would not credit her with the forty-eight years she carried.  Her hair may have been streaked with silver, but her posture and outlook where very much that of a younger woman, and her flexibility and stamina was greater than most of her own age group.  She put that down to the lifestyle and the amount of walking she did.  Certainly no extra pounds had attached themselves to her backside in soft comfort! 

Nadeann’s satchel banged against her hip.  She was tempted to sit down and enjoy the morning’s sunshine before heading into town, but the Lords and Ladies of this land would not wait for her, a mere performer, to dally among the daisies.  The small pots of minerals she carried, ready to be mixed with egg or oil to make paints, banged together in the satchel with each step, giving her approach a percussive counterpoint.  In Cairhien, if she could survive the daggers and Daes Dae’mar, Nadeann would make enough money to retire.  The life was everything; she would not give that up, but at least she could gain enough coin to buy a wagon and horse, and travel in a much more comfortable fashion than her own two feet provided.

It had been sketching the flowers in the forests that had first given her the idea.  A flower was so temporary, living a few days, perhaps weeks, and then dying until the next time.  She had sketched a friend of hers, now long dead, but the little parchment scrap that Nadeann carried in her belt pouch held the likeness forever and it would not now be lost to memory.  When she had discovered just how much the nobility would pay for having a decent portrait, Nadeann had practiced her work and used pigments and minerals found naturally to create longer lasting paints.  Her first commission had been a minor Murandian Lord that had proudly displayed his likeness for all that came to his manor to see.  Naturally, it sparked off fighting as his peers did not take kindly to it, and Nadeann had been in work for quite some time.

A patron would give her housing and food for the duration of the commission and she asked for enough coin up front to cover the cost of the canvases only, the rest being paid on a satisfactory portrait.  It supplemented her income from performing nicely and still allowed her to roam the lands, tied to no one but herself or, for a time, her patron.  Now, age was catching up to her and the wagon she wanted was becoming more of a necessity with each night she had to spend sleeping under a bush.  There were nobles a-plenty in Cairhien, each of them impressed with their own success and with enough coin to make the ownership of her wagon a lot closer.  And so she trudged closer to the Foregate, wondering whom she would meet first.  An inn was her first port of call, bed and board exchanged for performances until she could find a patron, and a hot meal was just what she needed.

I should have it, but if you PM it to me then I've got the most up to date information.  Perhaps my Maiden and meet your Cor Darei sometime. :)

~Dilora~

She looked up at him, her mood penetrated by the sincerity in his voice.  A smile spread tiredly across Dilora’s face.  On impulse, she across the table and touched Esyndor’s hand before grasping it and stroked the top of it with her thumb.  In her life on the road there had never been many moments like this; people were transitory beings, fleeting, with no sense of permanence.  Now, thank the Light, she had found something that had returned to her. 

“Thank you,” she began simply, not releasing his hand “you have no idea how much that means to me.”  The recent events were beginning to catch up with her, and she put her head on the table, exhausted.  “I won’t say what has happened to me lately, but it was traumatic.  I need some time away from everything, I think.”  From the wagon, from the world … Dilora needed to get away from it all for a time.  She wanted to find somewhere warmer and let the chill that had been engraved in her bones through fear fade away. 

“The truth is,” she told him, the further she got down her drink the bolder she became, “that I am feeling a bit vulnerable.”  She covered her eyes with her free hand as though shamed, as though she had already told him too much.  Dilora liked to build up an air that she was a strong and independent woman, not needing a guard because her wagon was too small scale for most to approach with anything but legitimate business.  The shock would keep her company for many a night still.  “I want to get out of civilisation for a while and perhaps go home for a bit, but I’m scared to travel by myself.”

Her frown was hidden, but it did not mask the defeated slump to her shoulders.  What had started out being a bad day was now turning into a horrible mess, one she should not have put onto this young lad.  He was just starting to get his life back together, Dilora chided herself, and here was she upsetting the cart with her emotional baggage.  “I’m sorry,” she began, pushing herself to her feet “I should go.”

~Dilora~

The hot tea splashed over her, and she gasped at the sting.  Dilora’s mouth opened and some of the liquid just brushed her chin, but mainly it scalded her neck.  So, this was a prickly one.  She would not call the woman Aes Sedai any more – that she did not like it was obvious and the contempt with which use had replied to her was obviously not feigned.  The other possibility now made her shiver.  She had fallen into the hands of Darkfriends, powerful ones, and it would be best to comply with their wishes as much as she could.

It was odd how even at the most dangerous moments, Dilora’s mind ran to matters of trade.  Well, bribery was probably the more correct word.  She had lots of useful items in her wagon that might be of interest to the woman.  Again, it was unlikely that some trinket would sway her interest in Dilora’s companion; nothing she had was of sufficient value to be of use here.  The Light burn her!

Struggling, she tested her bonds again.  “She was a stranger I picked up in Tar Valon, saying she wanted to be out of the city.”  Dilora remembered something.  “She was a strange one, too, keeping going on about things that I couldn’t hear.”  In a confiding tone, Dilora nodded and said: “between you and me, I don’t think she is entirely sane.  Some noise spooked her when I set up a camp, and she’s probably hidden so far in the undergrowth by now she’ll be picking twigs out of her underwear for months.  If she hasn’t been eaten by wolves or something.”

Well, I found a mention to her, but where the rest of the mentioned characters had links, the one for Saerythra Al'Thorin had no link.  Sorry :(  I'll keep looking - who knows, it might turn up yet. :)

Owen, great, nice to see Yrean is about.  Does he have any loose ends in his past that he needs tying off?  Or if he is at a loose end, maybe he needs a voyage of self-discovery or something.  :)  Plenty of opportunities, should he need them.  I might start to mention the skills my characters have, just in case they should ever prove useful. :)

By the way, for future reference - I also have an Aiel Maiden of the Spear, Caliendhra, and another Freelander - Nadeann Durrass, a bard. 

Nope, you're right, it wouldn't have worked.  Mind you, neither would "Whose Line is it Anyway?" :D

Raeyn, can you remember your Wisdom's name at all?  I can have a look and see if I can find the bio for you. :)

Jehaine, cool - when things are sorted we can look at any directions you want to take Mara in and then the RPing can begin in earnest! :D

Quip, Ahh, now this could be useful.  Dilora isn't usually the kind to be a damsel in distress but against a whole load of bandits she might need a hand.  Her peppermill can take care of a couple - would the Mighty Mehrin like to lend a hand?

Tigara, nice, nice, always good to have some Kin around, and a dancer would go well with Dilly at some point in the future. Dilly has been known to get on tables and sing from time to time, or I have a bard. :)

With regards to your Hunter for the Horn bio, I am working on it. :)  I'll try and get to it as soon as I can :)  Thanks for bearing with me!

Ata, cool.  Good to see you've got a few characters in the Freelanders :)  If you ever feel like writing for any of them, just post in here and I'm sure there'll be no shortage of volunteers to write with. :)

Cross-checked by Freelanders. :)

cross-checked. :)  Sorry for the delay.

Thanks :)  This is going to be both a challenge and a pleasure.  Bear with me while I find my feet which, all being well, won't take long at all. :)

And so to the Freelander Party!

Alright, alright, my lovely Freelander lovelies!  Post here to let me know who is about and if there are any RPs that you'd like your characters to take part in.  Freelanders travel the world and are not limited to one place.  If you post here, there's a possibility another character is waiting in the wings to write with you.  I'll start.

Dilora Fashelle, peddler/adventurer/goodtime girl

Current Location = Caemlyn

Would Like to Meet = someone interested in a fight against some bandits

Alright, people.  Who's here?

Oh, I'm so happy I got introduced with a satirical news quiz as a title. :D  Let's hope I can keep up the good work that's been done so far, and breathe wind into the sails (both sea-going and windmill-like) of the Freelanders.  Come on, don't be shy!  *cracks whip*  *giggles*  I jest, of course.

I've written a Freelander for most of the time I've been writing at DM.  Dilora Fashelle, my peddler, goodtime girl and all around adventuring lass, was my first character at the DM RP (our lovely roleplay here) and I have to say she is still my favourite.  She's met, I think, every kind of character there is and she's always up for adventure as long as there is a tavern at some point along the way.  Watch out for her - she writes songs!

So step right up and come along for the ride!

~Dilora~

Dilora swallowed, and for long moments after the woman had started sipping her tea, she felt a sting on her cheek and the finger that had traced a line across her throat lingered as an imaginary reminder of just how precarious her situation was.  That was all she had to cling to, that shiny wire of hope, being allowed to leave with a scar to remind her against carelessness.  She shivered, realising she had not seen the woman touch her and yet her face hurt meant the woman had to be an Aes Sedai, unless Lanfear had come to take her or something.

Yes, and pigs were going to fly overhead.  Sweat blossomed on Dilora’s forehead and the temptation was gnawing at her to rub her cheek where the fire-touch had landed.  The restraints saw that she could not.  She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder instead.

“I set up camp with some stray girl that wanted passage from Tar Valon, but I think she has run off by now, Aes Sedai.”    Perhaps that’s what it was about.  Maybe this strange woman was after her companion, not Dilora.  Her mind raced, watching the woman staring thoughtfully over the edge of her teacup, eyes a mystery above the faint steam. 

If you want to write something that isn't standard to the Wheel of Time world, you might try looking at the Revolutions Board - there could be something we could do there.

Welcome :)

~Dilora~

Shivering, Dilora took another drink and was surprised to find she was at the bottom of the tankard already.  Wordlessly, she picked up another and took a drink from that.  It helped; the numb sensation the ale gave her was a cushion between reality and the worst of what she had recently suffered.  There were happy enough memories that could be shared with this lad though. 

“I’ve met a few Ogier over the years.  One was a really tall one, and strong, while the other was a bookish one.  That one was a bit smaller but he had such a sense of humour.”  Reflectively staring into space, Dilora realised she missed the keen, if slightly ribald wit of Jeran and wondered what had become of him.  “I’ve met a lot of people, and have had a lot of adventures.”  She would not tell him about the most recent encounter.  No.  “I’ve also met a party of Aiel – I trade with them frequently as they pay generously for books – and they defended my wagon a year or so back when it was in danger of being attacked.”

“There have been Ogier, Aiel, Aes Sedai, Lords and Ladies … lots of different kinds of people.”  Dilora finally took a bite of pie, enjoying the cloying sweetness.  “I’ve had some near misses and some good nights, too.”  He most definitely would not be interested in the nights.  Some of Tar Valon’s finest trainees had made lasting impressions on her.  She took another bite of pie.  “I’ve met all kinds of people: herbalists, Sea Folk, lots of different people.”  And one or two I could do with forgetting.    Dilora recalled her most recent encounter again, and wanted to put her head down on the table and weep.  Instead, she forced herself to listen to the music of lutist that had just taken the stage and accompanied a pretty looking girl with a sweet voice.  The words came to her unbidden and filled her mind with sadness.

We’ll dance from moon to sunrise

The days will hold our sleep

To leave now would be unwise

For I shall surely weep

The song went on to describe a young girl feeling lonely waiting for her love to return from war.  This is the path I have chosen, no, not that word!  I have decided upon for myself.  I cannot dwell in loneliness forever!    She was being maudlin again.  Forcing a smile at the lad, who had certainly grown up since Dilora had last seen him, she listened to the last words of the singer and applauded politely.  As a song it was one of the old ones, not suited to a tavern where men sought to lose themselves with naughty thoughts.  Dilora looked at the singer.  She was pretty, in a buxom way, and with her white shirt unbuttoned quite far down her chest, Dilora knew full well why she had been employed.  It was not just for her voice.  I want to hear some of the old songs!  I want to hear songs of the road to remind me of the good old days. 

If the chance arose she would put in a request.  If not, she would slip a couple of coins to the lute player and sing the songs herself.  It would be good to lose herself for a while.  Realising her company was staring at her, Dilora turned back to Esyndor and began a tale about how she had had to flee Caemlyn thanks to an old friend causing a commotion that ended in violence in a tavern not far from here, and how they had fled north.  I want to sing again.  I want to feel free again. 

~Dilora~

She had not been prepared for what she saw.  Dilora’s shock had stunned her into the same sort of silence and stupefaction that a rabbit feels when staring into the path of a wagon, unable to move in time.  Was that her fate now?  She tried to move but was unable; something was pinning her arms tightly to her sides, her legs were held by the same invisible bonds and, just as she tried to cry out, some substance filled her mouth so she were unable to summon help.  Not that anyone would have come.  The girl she was travelling with would have been useless, and had probably run away now to safer grounds.  Prudent of her, Dilora decided, her eyes rolling around wildly trying to find some way of escaping this woman’s bonds. 

Little details, she had to remember the little details.  They could save her life later on.  No speaking, no words of explanation, just actions that were nothing but hostile.  The ground receded under her feet as Dilora lifted up into the air and across, over to the back of the woman’s horse.  Altie! she thought, considering her horse and hoping the mare would not be harmed.  Her wagon was still out there, somewhere, and she’d have to get back to it.  But just how did she plan to escape from a woman that could control air like this?

An Aes Sedai had captured her.  An Aes Sedai had business with her, either for her intrusion into some plot or because Dilora was prey for something.  From what she remembered, an Aes Sedai could not use their powers to hurt people.  And from the intent and the way this one were looking at her, she wondered just how true that was.  Craning her neck, she tried to see the woman’s hand to see if she wore the golden ring of a Great Serpent on her finger, but she saw none.  She had the same proud carriage as any Queen would.  Why had an Aes Sedai captured her?  Unless…

She did not want to think of anything more, but Dilora had nothing but time as she was jostled on the horse’s back.  Their midnight prowl through the forests of Andor gave her nothing but time to think.  She felt the muscles play under her skin: the smells of horse mixing with the damp smells of earth and her own sweat.  Was she afraid?  Yes, she was.  Her jaws ached from the gag in her mouth.  This night was never going to end! 

In a way, she was relieved to get to the small hut in what appeared to be a glen.  Dilora made note of a few of the details; soft moss decorated the sides of trees here, and the grass appeared to be lush but there was a sense of chill and doom.  This was by far the worst situation she had been in since the carnival at Caemlyn!  With a shiver, Dilora swallowed, trying to bite back her fear. 

Within moments the invisible bonds had been freed and Dilora was tied with ropes to the strange woman’s bed.  She was saying something Come on Dilora, think, think! Blinking back tears, she looked at the woman with wide eyes as she heard her say something about not visiting the forest at night because of dangerous creatures or something, and then asking why she was visiting her.  She fought for rational thought.  Illianer, she decided, the accent was definitely Illianer.  For the rest she would have to watch her.  Swallowing again, Dilora spoke.

“… Heard a noise in the forest.  I wondered what it was and came to have a look.”  She felt so naked without her weapons.  Sweat trickled down her brow and she felt uncomfortable in other places.  At least she was comfortable on the woman’s bed.  “Water, please?  And how about untying me?”  Oh yes, she was afraid, but she’d be damned if she was going to be treated so!

*big hugs*  Hope you feel better soon, hon.  *makes chicken soup*

Anyone???

Welcome, Jehaine :)

The Light shines!!!

Hey Empy :D  We should write sometime.  :D

I do like writing day to day stuff, as sometimes the ordinary shines when the extraordinary is commonplace.  I love writing things with twists and turns, and most of all I love comedy!  Dilora is a funny character, and quite sweet with it.  I love working funny songs into her posts.