The Rain's End

[Pipkin]

The sun had crept over the horizon, struggling against the thickness of the clouds above. And as the light clawed it's way upwards, hand over fist, the pounding rain began to die off into a trickle.

A bird chirped somewhere within the trees, as if expressing it's own surprise to the change in environment. Clouds rolled above, breaking off in some places, to display pink through the thinning mist as the sun continued to climb in the sky.

When the fire in the sky reached it's peak, it was if it had sucked all the energy from the clouds themselves. The trickle ended, leaving Myrken soggy, and covered in thousands of tiny puddles and makeshift ponds. Overcast clouds covered the sky still, but it was this breath of pause that brought out such an odd reaction of joy for one.

"HAH! Ah! Ahahaha! HAHAHAHA!"

The manic laughter rang out through the morning air, startling soggy birds, and sending them skyward in frantic flight. The asian woman, as if possessed by a moment of insanity, twirled around in a circle, arms spread, and feet kicking up muddy water in the Dagger's clearing. Head tipped skywards, her eyes closed as her pale, scarred face soaked up the sun that peirced the clouds in some places as tiny streams from the heavens.

Her screaming voice rang out over the tavern, as if to call those out of their slumber to profess the news to them. Surely, something like this was enough to wake up for.

First, she had to thank the gods, and this was screamed heavenwards in her own language for all to hear.

"Alama! Domo arigato! Ohayogozaimasu!!!"

A fit of laughter rang from her scarred lips as she tripped upon her own footing, only to land upon the soggy ground below her. Maroon cloak, along with the delicate silk of her clothing soaked up muddy water, but she seemed to care not. Lying back within the puddle she landed in, Elil spread her arms and rolled with delight.

"GOOD Morning Myrken! You come! See the sky! Is BEAUTIFUL!!"

[Thall]

Haar rose wearily out of bed, trying his best not to distrub dear Shyla from her sleep, but the devoted Hausfrau was already up and cooking breakfast in the kitchen. He walked over to the wash basin and tried to splash the last of the sleep from his face. Looking out the window, he expected to see that same deluging downpour that had fallen for the last several weeks. Much to his surprise and far more effective at waking him up than the cold, crisp water was the clear, sunny skies over the horizon.

"Wunderbar!" he shouted, with Shyla's dulcet voice rising up the stairs in response questioning him what happened. "Der Rain, it stopped!" Immediately, the clattering of the pans stopped and Shyla went outside to look. While not as much of a concern to her as it was to Haar, she was relieved, mostly to be able to walk around without muddying herself. Of course, the ground was still soggy -- but now some real work can be done on the farm without worrying about the crops molding or the animal feed rotting.

Outside the farm house, they both started dancing merrily and gleefully that the horrid flooding storm was over. They could get to work rearing the last seed before winterfall and the extra rain would probably make it all the more bountiful. Hopefully...

[Treadwell]

"Merciful heavens! It stopped raining!"

A flabbergasted Treadwell stands shirtless and wrapped only in a towel, standing ready for a bath in a good warm tub and gently hugging his undressed sixteen month baby boy to his gut. He'd paused in his wobbling out of bed to peek outside. Something had sounded wrong; something was missing. It took a peek outside to bring the town councilor of administrative sanctions to his senses.

He almost steps outside. Then he remembers his state of undress, shuts the back door, and goes about sinking into the warm, somewhat bubbly water with his toddler in his arms. Chubby little hands give a tug at the sides of that floofy white beard, and down Tready goes with a slip and a slump, sending some water splashing about the bathroom floor.

It might be drying up a touch outside, but rest assured that Tready's washroom is still going to be a little bit wet.

[Mongrel]

The square had been quieter than normal during the storms. There were fewer criers shouting their wares and fewer heralds spreading news. The raised dais in the square, which always housed a smattering of postings and announcements, had been largely unused during the rains. Old, soggy papers were left to sag on their nails. Their words, once crisp on the parchments, were streaked to illegibility. In some cases, the ink had bled almost completely, leaving only a wilted bit of pulp barely holding together.

Today, when the clouds cleared and people began to mill about the square again, they admired the blue sky and basked in the warmth of the rediscovered sun. The people of Myrkentown looked upon their square in the brighter daylight that they had almost forgotten.

It did not take long for them to notice that at some point and by some hand all of the old, dampened, and ruined parchments had been removed. They were replaced by crisp, legible sheets adorned with clear, black lettering. There were two distinct postings that had been duplicated many times so that the dais was nearly covered.

The first said:

Rejoice! The rain is gone!

The second simply read,

BELIEVE!

[channe]

There are some times when Agnieszka Kaczmarek (farmhand, horse-tender, and prospective Hand of Death) really wishes she could read.

This is one of those times.

The sun is bright and beating down on her bare shoulders as she stands alone in the square, the only one of the bustling crowd who has yet, apparently, to see the papers that clothe the dias. Those she asks don't know what the words mean, as well; it is still early enough that the word has not spread, and although literacy is at a high level in Myrken Wood it has yet to penetrate to the kind of society Agnie usually keeps.

But word will spread; one does not make mention of the word 'believe' in Myrken Wood without introducing a collective county-wide shiver, these days -- or a slightly anxious Agnie seeking out those she knows to ask them about the possibility of koltists still being in the area.

But there is no shiver as Agnie stares at the words that make no sense and the letters that swim together in a cacaphony of lines -- pretty things, really, that have nothing to do with the language she rattles off. So her thoughts remain a little more in line with what they were when she woke this morning.

She is glad to see the rain gone; maybe things will be back to normal, now.

Perhaps.

There's that issue of the incubus to deal with first. And Kerrak's offer to take up (although she wanted to run that one by Ariane, first). And work to do, above it all.

The blazing sun is some comfort, as she shoves her hands in her pockets and strides on through town.

[Tyralor]

Awn'n'opp`dhazet. 'Uot`im. The sergeant stated around the wad of tobacco that invariable puffed his face out as though he had a huge marble stuck in his cheek. Along with the rest of a squad, they were once again doing the dirty work of removing the various notices that'd been tacked up in the middle of town. The Lieutenant was rounding up the men themselves and asking if any specific individual had been seen within the square the past night, as those wearing white robes were generally being arrested on sight. Hopefully a patrol would be able to provide some leads.

"et`ah dzainoodeder" Sergeant Otis sent a stream of vile brown liquid splattering into the soaking ground, before stomping off to start yanking down more of the various signs.

[Carnath-Emory]

His face is a mask of blood; she spits it from her lips, grins with blood-flecked teeth. He is not afraid, having never learned how to be. She herself is terrified, and so grins again as she raises the slim schiavona, its blade as bloodied as his chin. Three feet of sanguine steel are held even with her sharp-boned cheek, are driven for that sweet, tender spot at the hollow of his throat -- and because this is the dreaming world, Ariane knows that her aim will be off. Because this is but a dream, she is a helpless witness to her own undoing, watching mute as the blade strikes empty air, as his keen nails slice open her throat from edge to edge. And all that she can think, as her traitor blood pours free in an almost embarassing gush of crimson, is that the day is surprisingly quiet --

Which is how, as she shakes herself from a dream gone wrong, Ariane Emory discovers that the rain has finally ceased: it had been such a persistent din for so many weeks that its absence had left the land almost eerily silent. It will not be until much later that she takes herself to the town and hears what latest gossip fills its street. 'Believe,' they will say, and wonder openly at its meaning -- and she will wonder, too, at how many of these guileless faces once smiled at the sight of joyful sacrifice...

[Sherazade]

Unable to sleep, Amarelle sat curled into a comfortable chair near the hearth, she still had not decided how to make a beginning with the proposal put to her.

Chattering as they went about their duties a couple of maids , came into the mainroom discussing what else but the sudden end to the rain and who or what might have caused it. An idea struck Amarelle and she looked towards the pair and spoke timidly "I think i may have stopped it."

Well now she certainly had their attention and the pair came closer and looked at each other in disbelief before amarelle once again had their full attention
"go on then" spoke the slightly taller of the two "tell us what you did"

Amarelle would swallow dropping her gaze for a moment "I always believed i was cursed because of this" She dragged her hair back revealed the birthmark hand print. "everybody did because bad things were always happening, like crops failing and ewes dropping their lambs early " She let the words hang for just a moment unwittingly letting the suspense bulid for there was the distinct sensation of a but lingering a the end of those words.
"Then i started to have dreams, feel like i should be somewhere else..."

Nervous fingers tucked an errant tendril behind her ear "The feeling got stronger and stronger and then i heard some travellers talking about myrkenwood. I knew then where i needed to go" she frowned as if she didn't quite believe it herself that she could be so important . "it was just suddenly clear".

She stopped then let her gaze drift away towards the fire, silence would stretch become a tense thing and then "You 'ave ta tell the rest" The other maid spoke up this time her tone imploring Amarelle to continue.

Amarelle would sigh before continuing "You have to understand i still didn't know why i was coming here. And when i heard tales about the weather and the strange goings on i thought about turning back. My dreams thought wouldn't let me" It was at this point fact entered her tale " Six days ago I stepped over the borders into myrken, stepped into a rain storm only to feel it lift mere moments after if not the very moment both my feet had touched its soil" She chewed on her lower lip for a moment as both maids eyed her with surprise "there have been other times on smaller scales where my presence has seemed to effect a change for the better." Her expression would become ashamed, downcast "I guess i just believed what everyone else did that i was cursed and the good things happened because the gods willed it despite my presence."

"shame they thought such miss" The taller would say and then glance towards the kitchen where she heard footsteps and she would tug the other to her feet "come on we'd best get back to work before we're in trouble".

The pair would then leave Amarelle in peace and whether they believed her completely or not, the tale would being to spread for everyone loved a good story.