Crimson Moon Report 50

Crimson Moon Report #50 - August 24, 2011
Summary: Yuratlya continues to recover from the poison, and sees the Lornonites walking in the open, unafraid.
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Official post by Naionna, 8/24/11
[Solhaven, Mid-Morning]
Recovering a bit more each day, she has finally reached a point in the healing process where she gets up daily and walks without assistance. The days are hot and bright, even as she wanders past the docks where the breeze from the sea brings a bit of relief from the humidity. She savors them, though. Too long she felt no heat in her flesh as the venom's effect took hold of her very core. Many healers labored over her in an effort to help, and most of them brought some little bit of comfort, truth be told. But noone had been able to decipher the source of the poison. Various herbalists and alchemists came to look at her, conversing with the healers and studying her in great detail while she lay fighting internally. There was never a conclusion made, only conjectures and possibilities. She was not sure that it would ever be figured out, but she had managed to beat it and that was what she cared about at the moment. Sometimes, the path of her life took her down dark roads, but never quite as dark as this. Still, she clung to her convictions and the faith that she was on the right track, as she'd been directed her entire life.
As a child, she'd been deemed 'marked' by the locals as one who would foretell of prophecy. This was such a mixed declaration for her family, and for her, if she were honest. On one hand, it was amazing and exciting to know that you could be the vehicle for the Arkati, and indeed even for the more mystical powers that are not spoken of except with others who have the gift. On the other, it was a lonely life and filled with obstacles and difficulties that noone could help her with. She would have to be strong, and perservere to make it down the path chosen for her. There would be those who scorned her, called her demoness and declared her a fake, or worse, a harbinger of evil. There would be those who did not understand, and by nature, people always fear what they do not understand. If she were honest, sometimes she did not understand either. But she did not need to understand. She just knew it would be what it would be, and that is what she was meant to know. Rather subjective, but honest. And if she were nothing else, she could be called honest. She never lied, and she never tricked. She always gave the news she had to give without anything coloring it. Sometimes, she could not say everything at once, as it was not given to her in that fashion. But she never withheld, nor lied. It just wasn't how it worked. Convincing others of this was no easy task. And so she enjoyed these moments when she could walk outside in the sun, away from the darkness that had been with her most of her life.
A group of men and women robed in sanguine silk with emerald lining crossed through her path, stepping past her with ease as they chatted amongst themselves. A quick flick of her eyes took in one's appearance in its entirety and she noticed the pewter pendant shaped into a stylized wisp of smoke. Further down, her gaze took in the thin emerald band on the woman's finger, engraved with the same wisp as the pendant. Another quick glance noted that the others wore the same things. "Ivasians.." she thought to herself, and nodded as she continued on her walk, though now not quite as leisurely as before. "They have come into the light in full, it seems." she murmured to herself and her companion, the guard sent with her by the church, shot her an inquisitive glance. "Oh, nothing. Just an old woman's ramblings." she said, forcing a smile to her wrinkled visage as she hobbled on. Once she reached the healers' abode, she nodded to the guard, who nodded in turn and took his leave of her once she was safely to the steps. As she closed the doors, another group passed nearby - this one smaller than the last and comprised of three young women and a single young man - their robes of crimson linen chained with onyx-set bloodjewels and their black scimitar-shaped medallions dangling from their necks. Though, she noticed, one of them was clad in something different - the young man she realized - he was clad in a pristine ivory robe with bloodjewels edging the sleeves and a blackened steel chain suspending a glass-encased petrified heart. "Oh. They are now mixing together openly as well.. Yes, I need to get to my notes." she thought to herself, closing the door behind her as she watched the group walk away from her window, none of them concerned about being seen in the slightest.
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