Vanyalanthiriel's page

Vanya surveys the cart and halts stops suddenly. She let's out a long slow wail. Her keening cry resounds through the forest. Flocks of birds flutter from the trees at the sound of her shrill cry. She shakes and shudders. The she elf points to a corpse..then another. Her body shakes with convulsive energy.
Those ones....Her arms outstretch and the gossamer cloth of her vestments billow in the morning air. Her finger points to two of the bodies.
"These ones. They .. " she sobs, " They... want to return to the Oerth. "
She rests her arms on the cart and bows her head in silent prayer. The veins in her arms and along her temples throb. Her jaw twitches. Several crows land near her. The young wolf walks forward and sniffs her.

As if on cue, Vanya seems to understand Sigeweards translation. she speaks in very broken common. " Elf spend days cutting away darkness. Clearing away the webs. Making room for new beautiful things. New elfs. Elf celebrate how much beauty is to the life of the dead. How much good is left behind. And sometimes..they go to be with Seldarine. And sometimes they come back. "

Vanyalanthiriel gazes at Nomin. She lets out a lengthy soft sounding rant. It's in Olven, the elf tongue. Though undecipherable it sounds like music. A lullaby or sonnet. It could just as easily be a list of chores or accounts receivable, yet the sweet soft sounds are truly beautiful to anyone who appreciates such things. It is apparent, that she is choosing her words and phrasing more careful this time. Perhaps it's important, that this answer be accurate.

Vanya scans the road and looks for signs of more goblins.

Vanya advances 30'

Furnok misses. Vanya advances 30'

Vanya draws her curved elven blade and holds it aloft. She once again chants in the haunting multi-vocal language. A chorus of sounds emerge from her thin berry colored lips. "రాత్రి ఆకాశాన్ని కుమార్తె , మీ దూరదృష్టి నన్ను కప్పి ఉంచే!"

Vanya is wary. She looks from Nomin to Timur. The elven cleric nervously checks her weapons and armor. She seems to be drawing strength from knowing she has them. Vanya inhales and squares her shoulders, then follows Solara outside.

Vanyalanthiriel carefully watches Nomin's mouth and face as he speaks. It's as if she's trying to read his lips. Or perhaps she's just trying to translate it. Her common is very limited. She squints her eyes and nods, though her expression seems slightly confused. She resumes her cool nonchalant manner. She looks to the priests as if for some assistance.

Vanyalanthiriel's breathing intensifies for a few seconds, then returns to normal. She remains still yet conscious during the procedure. Her initial impatience seems to have dissipated. She utters something under her breath. A few of the words seem familiar, famous elves or some such.
"Sehanine Moonbow, చంద్రుడు, Corellon యొక్క అంకితం తోడుగా దేవత, నేను కవల చంద్రులు కాంతి కింద నాకు మొత్తం చేయడానికి నిన్ను బతిమాలుకొనుచున్నాను."

As she whispers, the places the innkeeper smeared the pasty medicine also seem to radiate or reflect the moonlight. Her forehead cheeks and shoulders glow softly then return to normal. Many of her cuts and bruises fade or shrink down to nothing, like a dozen small ponds drying up. There are no scars or blemishes left behind.

It's all rather fast and subtle, if it not been watched closely, most of the effects might have been missed. Anyone who had seen her wounds or tried to dress them would appreciate the results of the healing.

She still seems frail and light headed, but she slowly sits up and defiantly stands.

The elf woman seems dizzy, she gazes around at her surroundings. She looks from Nomin to Timur. She grimaces, perhaps in pain or maybe displeasure at being so helpless.

Vanyalanthiriel rolls to regain consciousness DC 10
Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
She succeeds

Vanyalanthiriel's breathing becomes more relaxed. Much of her bleeding seems to be staunched. A few makeshift blankets seem to keep her from shivering.

Assuming Nomin has no ranks in first aid, my call is he know's the elf woman is dying, but has no idea how to help her. This put's her at -2 HP.
Vanyalanthiriel is coughing up blood. Multiple fractures are apparent. She gazes up at Nomin. An unearthly wisdom seems to descend on her. Her eyes show no fear or worry. in broken common speech, she asks him, " you to has bring mine to Cuthbert church. I'm to go..soon. Y'dey!" She holds up her twin moon medallion. Her eyes implore you to perform this task. She says the name again, "Y'dey, she priestess. Her to help send them."
She is barely able to raise her other hand. She motions to her dead brethren.
" Bones to dirt, dirt to bones"
She coughs up more blood.

The elfin priestess continues to chant in the alien multi-toned voice. Her hands let go of the staff and she sinks slowly to one knee, never losing focus of her actions. Sweat beads up on her forehead, mixing with blood. Her hands splay out and her fingers gnarl into claw like half fists. An electric blue flash of light plays along her knuckles and fans out, arcing between her outstretched hands and the remaining green humanoid.

The lone female also appears to have elfin features. Her silver hair and gleaming violet eyes mark her as a Grey Elf. She is quite wounded, leaning on a staff to remain standing. She wears a translucent robe, with badly smashed delicate chain mail accents now useless as armor. A tiny silver circlet rests upon her head, balanced and not out of place, despite her ordeal. Simple sandals cover her feet. A silver lace sash, embellished with silver bells, rows of tiny hooks and threaded with hundreds of beads circles her waist. A mirrored shield lies on the ground near her. She wears a medallion, depicting a small silvery crescent moon, with a larger full moon suspended by it.
You can see her coughing and retching. Blood sprays from her lips as she heaves.
" నన్ను రండి! నేను వెళ్ళడానికి , కానీ నేను పాస్ నేను హెల్ పంపుతాము ఒక మంచి ప్రదేశం తీస్ ! "

Two smaller forms emerge from the brush along the side of the road. A pair of small sickly puce colored humanoids, with blades drawn, close in on the girl. They have extremely long tapered ears and fierce scowling, savage faces. They advance upon her slowly, as if they are afraid of her, yet also trying to intimidate her. They growl and hiss, chattering in a strange tongue. Gleeful snickering emits from them both as they charge her.