[SpringsSong]

(Click on Rossa for her human form.  Or, well, Elven form.)

"I said that spell was a bad idea, Master."

"Oh, be quiet, Elen..."

"You know that I'm right~"

"I said be quiet."

A rather irritated and out-of-place Elven female walked along the desert, wearing a black cloak with a mask of some sort pulled up over her face and her blonde hair blowing out into the wind.  The cat was perched upon her shoulder, and though he looked just about as uncomfortable in the heat as she, he was at least a little more content.

"What did Kenshi and Vorraine tell you?  'Mage Armor us, Rossa!  Don't attack the lich!', and you said, 'Ah, but I have True Strike now!', and..."

"What did I tell you about being quiet?" the Elf snapped again, wiping her forehead slightly.  "Ai, I know I wanted a change of scenery from the Orclands, but this is just a little extreme!" she said, and the cat gave a slight sigh.

"It would help if you took off your cloak~" Elendórë teased, and Rossarinya gave a frustrated sigh.

"And... why did I choose to have you as a familiar?  I'm starting to think it would be easier without one..."

"You know my ability to move silently compensates for it," the black feline said smuggly.

[1.2][1.2]

[Ander]

(Human form)

"Well. That was fun."

She was talking to no one in particular, brushing sand from the chinks of a chain mail shirt with quick, agitated strokes. Her hands were small and slender, artfully keeping the claws at her fingertips from catching in the masterwork metal - and likewise, as sparks leapt here and there, from the defensive magic twisted into every link. "Didn't know the trip would be quite that exciting. Go left, I told them. Don't make so much noise, I told them. Don't shift into a dire lion in the middle of the encampment! But nooooo." Her voice, heightened as her exasperation with the memory grew, finished the grumbles with a sigh. Odds curse that druid. As much as she liked him, he was so incredibly short-sighted. And the rest of the party followed him like sheep after the king...

Verona started, frowned. Bolt upright, her masculine form twisted as she looked around her in bewilderment. Speaking of her party, the so-called adventurers...where the bloody hell were they? Had they seen the escape tunnel she'd darted through as those dark-skinned devils - hah, she was one to talk - chased them? Oh...for goodness' sake. "Who was the one who said "never split the party", huh? And now where are you lot!"

Lifting a hand to her horned brow, Vera focused on the dim outline of shapes in the distance. Humanoid shapes. She could only differentiate one, but who was to say that more weren't hidden by the desert's mirage? Perhaps six more. Six so-called adventurers.

"Hey! Hey, there you are!" Vera's call was loud, delicate alto barreling unusually over the desert wind. Unable to lope, she managed a graceless pace toward the shape she'd mistaken for her friends. "What happened to you down there? Did you kill the drow?"

[SpringsSong]

"What happened to you down there?  Did you kill the drow?"

Rossarinya stopped as she heard this voice, knowing in a heartbeat that it did not come from any of her party members--she was the only woman in the group that she had departed from Arcaebus for Erlemon with--and she paused hesitantly, one hand on her rapier and the other prepared to dart for her crossbow, should she need to.  After all, she was only wearing her normal clothes and a robe--not much protection, unless she cast Mage Armor on herself, which she hated doing.

"If there were any drow around, I would have made sure to make quick work of them, let me assure you," Rossa said in a clipped voice; a voice that could not really be distinguished.  "However, fortunately, I've not had the misfortune of encountering any of those dark-skins..."

Here, though, she stopped as Elendórë gently dug his claws into her shoulder, and she turned and glared at her familiar, her face marred with a scowl--though only Elen could perceive it, as her face was covered.

"What, Elen?" she said in an irritated voice.

"This is not someone that you know," Elen warned.  "If she lures you into a place where the drow are, I cannot help you.  If I die, you suffer too, Master--and I don't want you dying."

"Have I died yet?" she snapped, before looking back to the odd woman.  "You'll have to pardon my familiar--he tends to have a bit of a mouth on him.  But, ah... I'm almost certain that I do not know you from my travels..."

[1.4][1.4]

[Ander]

The smile died on Verona's face. The healthy clip she'd set for herself had, unfortunately, taken her quite close to the figure she could now see wasn't of her party at all - and hadn't, in point of fact, been anywhere near the drow they had fled.

Or so she said.

One of Vera's hands strayed closer to the bladed whip that bounced on an ample hip, but it was nothing more than a precaution. Her true weapon wasn't physical: even as she spoke, a distinct, sickly violet aura began to build around the fingers of her right hand. "Your familiar is pardoned. Forgive me; I mistook you for some traveling companions of mine." What had the druid said? Keep cordial, no matter where you are. Don't tell too much; but keep eyes open always for a possible alliance. And of course, don't split the goblinsnacked party.

"We were besieged by the fiends in the Underdark. I only just managed to escape, through a tunnel to the surface - it was long, crumbled and winding, but it led me to these sands." It was more than a little unsettling for the Hellbred, being unable to see the face of the woman to which she spoke. At least, Verona was somewhat sure she was female; with that hair and build, she supposed it could be a particularly pretty male elf.

[SpringsSong]

"You are forgiven," the elven woman said, keeping her hand close to her rapier within her cloak as the cat lounged comfortably on her shoulder.  She could also begin to sense that the woman was slightly distressed at not being able to see her face, and she was also certain that Elendórë could sense her discomfort within the black robe.  However, she was not so quick to abandon her one defense that she had against the possibility of encounters.

"At least remove your hood and scarf," Elen purred, and the Elf sighed slightly as she loosed the scarf and pushed back the hood, revealing her pale skin and hair.  Glaring at the feline again, the Elf cleared her throat.

"You will also have to forgive me for being so disguised.  It's because of the drow I must disguise myself constantly, or else I would likely already be dead," she replied.  "As for me, I was traveling with a Paladin--I would say he was human, except that when we were pulled from the world we were in and into this one, he suddenly awoke as a Dragonborn.  No idea where he's off to; probably training to fight off some grand evil dragon or something."

[1.6][1.6]

[Ander]

Not a male, then, but an elf nonetheless. Vera had a feeling that particular body shape told no lies. As the lady spoke, the demonic woman could only nod. "No need to apologize. In different circumstances, I too would be under cloak and guard. Where I come from, folks don't take kindly to Hellbred." A slight shift in weight brought her hand away from the whip. Verona hoped it would give the illusion of relaxation in the elf's presence - she was happy to be able to see a face - but it wasn't that simple. Pulling out and wielding the auxiliary weapon would just be too cumbersome at this distance.

Verona shrugged, the roll of her shoulders surprisingly ladylike in the heat. Given her infernal origins, she had no aversion to the desert's warmth. The smart thing to do at this point would be to ask her unusual counterpart about her association with the drow: wanting her dead, her in particular, made the warlock's eyebrow twitch. But something she said distracted Vera just enough... "You say he awoke as a Dragonborn? Into this world?" The sense of something horribly wrong crept into her tone, a frown tilting her lips, stance growing defensive. "What do you mean, pulled into this world?"

[SpringsSong]

Rossarinya could sense the change in the woman's voice and tone as she spoke of the incident that ended up pulling her and Kenshi out of their world of Yath and into this world.  She nodded when the Hellbred asked about him awakening as a Dragonborn, which the sorcerer had honestly not found odd at all.

"We were fighting a lich," she said.  "Once it fell, the others fled the room while I cast a spell, to make sure that the lich's phylactery had truly been destroyed.  What I had not counted on was the fact that, in a sense, the spell backfired on me.  Where I thought I had it contained, it suddenly had be caught in the blaze, and the darned paladin... I told him I was fine; that I had things under control, but no, he had to come back and try and drag me through the flames.  The next thing I knew, I was waking up just below the surface here--and I could feel an enchantment breaking and shifting." She paused here.  "For some reason or another, the paladin had an enchantment placed upon him to hide that he was a Dragonborn, but I guess it was only designed to work in his home realm of Yath, which was where we were... we were in the far north, in the Orclands... so awakening in the desert was just a bit of a shock."

"I told her that the fireball was a bad idea," Elendöré said smugly.  "But it seems that Mistress doesn't like to listen sometimes~"

"Quiet, you," Rossa said to the feline in a clearly annoyed voice.

[1.8][1.8]

[Ander]

"So this is a different realm than your Yath...that makes me wonder if this is even still Eberron." Part of Vera hoped that the elven woman would recognize the place, but she wasn't holding her breath for it. If what she said was true, then her companion's answer to the Dragonborn call was proof enough that they were in another realm entirely. Possibly a realm wholly alien, which was an even eerier thought. Although she smiled at the feline companion's mirth, she found herself chilled by the thought of being so far away from the plane she called home.

"Where is your Paladin now?" The sickly violet aura condensed around a loosely clenched fist, pulsing vaguely; it shimmered into the translucent outline of a longsword as its bearer's instincts sharpened. "Surely he didn't abandon you to the desert? Newly championed or not, that's doesn't seem like a knight's way." Hiding somewhere in the sand, though, that would be somewhat more paladin-like. She didn't know this elf from Khyber - she didn't know what tactics she might employ to keep herself safe in a strange situation.

[SpringsSong]

"You know, I'm not entirely sure where he is now," Rossarinya said.  "I just kind of... pressed on when I realized that we were not in Yath and didn't really pay any mind to the fact that he was not with me.  He is probably somewhere nearby, though; he and I were in the service of the same Goddess, and apparently, she instructed him to follow me, so he did."

"Even though Mistress told him several times that she needed to do this quest on her own~" Elendöré said, purring smugly.  "But no, the honorable Paladin would not let Mistress go on her own~ he insisted on coming, but now he is nowhere to be found~"

"Elendöré, if you do not stop with this commentary, I will unsummon you; for the sake of my sanity, please..." Rossarinya said, shaking her head as she placed two delicate fingers to her temples.  "...you know, I do not believe we have properly introduced ourselves to each other.  I am Rossarinya Haeronalda Isaya," she said; "...and the feline is my familiar, Elendöré."

[Ander]

Verona smiled despite herself, unable to help but be amused at the familiar - Elendöré's? - commentary. "Be at ease. I happen to know a feline who is just as mouthy, if not more." Well, he was only a feline part of the time - and only then when he wasn't balefully polymorphing some poor sod. Dratted dire lion. Where was he when he was needed?  "The pleasure is mine. I am Verona the Kinless." The partially summoned soulblade in her hand dispelled as the demonic young woman offered it up to shake. "Forgive me for asking, but...'Haeron'? I knew a comrade by that name. It implies 'distance' among elves, does it not?"

She was grasping at straws and she knew it. But, Vera reasoned, if there was a common thread anywhere between them - even something so trifling as language - then maybe there was hope of their realms not being so far apart after all. For a reason she could not rightly describe, nor feasibly shake, the Hellbred found herself feeling more and more convinced that she'd crawled right out of Eberron and into someplace else entirely.