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This northernmost city is the home of Morwen, The Goddess of Winter, and her followers who dwell year round in a land of frozen wonder. [Lore]
The gentle lapping of waves upon rocks and the sides of docked ships was a comforting song as Syna rose steadily into the sky, bringing on a new day. For the wolverine it was business as usual. Stocky legs walked at a comfortable pace down the quay, the noises of the calm waters gradually being overtaken by the noises of Vantha selling, bartering, and exchanging goods. Since tensions had only continued to rise after last season, the Icewatch was keeping a careful eye on any areas where multiple Holds met in large number, and top on this list would be the markets where everyone had necessity of going and interacting with their fellow Vantha.
Despite the sideways glances and hushed whispers, the mood of the place seemed relatively pleasant, people were wary, but it wasn't as if anyone was looking for a fight, at least Sliver hoped not. The smells of cooking seafood and trade goods from traveling merchants come to take advantage of the slightly warmer weather caught her attention and she made slow circuits around tables and booths, ever watchful of the goings on.
As she did she heard a few cries of delight as a light and fluffy snow began to descend upon the city. Many Vantha liked to think that snow was Morwen letting them know they were never alone, despite the fact that she had left for the season. Sliver had readily adopted this belief, for it gave her comfort when looking towards the icy Palace that dominated the landscape, knowing it was devoid of the city's Queen. She smiled a bit to herself, arms folded behind her back, admiring the light grey sky before turning back to her duties as guard.
H'veen sat excitedly on one of the stray benches that lay around the docks, the sun bringing warmth to the snowy day. She was bundled in a heavy, wool jacket that seemed to suffocate her, rather than protect her. Her hat did likewise. It looked as if she had wrapped a rabbit around her head. While silly, it was warm. And that's all that mattered to the Inarta. She huddled close and smiled, thankful to be in the sun's warm, loving embrace. She smiled up at it, happy to be with the ball of fire. It felt like so long since she had seen it. The boat trek over had been through intense fog, and the warm rays could not penetrate the cloud.
She began her people watching, her eyes trained on the shopkeepers. The way they gestured and acted, trying to best advertise their wares. The way their voices would rise above the wind, expressions of excitement, delight, assurance, and glee. It fascinated her. The reactions of the people; weather they be amused or annoyed. Some would stop to watch the madness, others would try to ignore it. It amazed her how odd these shopkeepers acted. And for silly things like fish and bread! But business was business, she supposed. So she continued to watch.
To an outsider, her intense interest in the shops was... unnerving. The way she studied them, as if she were looking for some flaw. A weakness. The way she watched the people, her eyes never straying. Trained. Intensely trained. Of course, she did not mean any harm to these shops. They were simply observations for a means of higher knowledge. Watching the culture and language at play. And although her Vani was poor, she could pick out the important bits of information. So she imagined it as a Language Class as well.
At first she saw the bundle of furs as devoid of ownership: They most certainly could have stood alone and by themselves, a singular furry entity in the midst of the shops, occupying a bench by themselves, waiting for the attention of the passerby who left them there. But no, they shifted here and there, and the wolverine could catch a slit of skin and eyes peeking through the containment mass that suggested a living presence residing within.
Glancing around for a moment, Sliver smirked then headed over to the bench, sitting herself down beside the large supply of furs.
"Just off the boat, aye?" She glanced over in a friendly manner, grinning at the chilly Inartan revealing very clean, very sharp teeth. The expression faded momentarily and the wolverine resumed her careful watch, glancing away when she spoke next. "You can always pick out one without Morwen's mark easy enough in this city."
To be fair the woman sitting next to H'veen looked like a stanger as well. Her clothing, hair style, tattoos, they all marked her as somewhat apart from fur-lined Vantha with their ever changing eyes and smooth Vani tongue. The woman spoke to her in common, with no trace of the lilting accent accustomed to the storytelling people residing in the snow.
H'veen kept her eyes trained on the passerby's, and found herself completely startled by the woman's approach. Her rather intimidating form struck her first, and the rebound shot was the aura that seemed to hover around her. Something in the Inarta told her to listen carefully to this woman's words. Or they might be the last she ever heard. The style in which she presented herself, this... Vantha? No... maybe it was something else. Kelvic? Perhaps. But definitely not Vantha. She seemed more like a warrior, and the tribal tattoos and axe-like hair made that idea even more solid. Again, H'veen felt as if this woman's words were not to be taken lightly. And the question she was presented with made her feel more like she was being intimidated, rather than greeted.
"Uh, sh- yeah. Yes. Well, I got here a couple days ago." she said, feeling as if she had done something wrong, but the smile on the woman's face brought a new warmth to her body. One not unlike the warmth the wool was trying to hold. As the words rolled around in her head, they seemed to lose their savage undertone and revealed themselves to be kind. H'veen let a smile spread across her face. Perhaps she was not in trouble after all. There was no threatening body posture, no evil in her eyes. The Inarta relaxed.
"I imagine so." she replied, regarding the mark. "It was probably really stupid to come out here during the winter. But honestly, I couldn't stand another day in Wind Reach. Ugh..." she said, slumbing a bit in her chair. Her eyes traveled to the woman's and she tried depserately to decipher the tattoos, as well as determine her race. Neither prevailed.
"Um... what are you?" As she spoke a white, pale hand appeared from the bundle of wool and pointed towards the marking. "And what are those for?"
Sliver was glad her initial intimidating appearance was overcome by her politeness, the mass of fur had sort of stiffened for a moment before relaxing when she continued to speak. Sliver rather rudely stared at the individual, trying to discern her origins, not feeling so bad for it was exactly what the woman was doing to her as well. Though the fur was nearly all encompassing she saw the tiniest flare of red hair. When H'veen spoke next she smiled a bit, this expression more a tug of the lips and without the threatening canines.
"Believe it or not this is the warmest season to come in. Morwen has left us and gone to give the rest of Mizahar winter, so though the Everwinter City would never thaw, it does warm up a few degrees."
She chuckled. It was a most tiny and insignificant change, but Sliver appreciated it nonetheless. When the girl mentioned Wind Reach her suspicions about the Inarta were confirmed, and her head bobbed thoughtfully and slowly, a perfect transition into how to answer the questions offered to her. They were both rather blunt, but Sliver was used to facing most of the world with a certain amount of bluntness and thus did not mind a certain lack of civil rhetoric now and then.
"I am Kelvic." That part was easy, and perhaps a bit obvious, the other question, however, was infinitely more difficult. "As to my markings...they are a way to keep the story of my travels where everyone can see. Each one tells of a different time and place." Sliver scrutinized the Inartan for a moment. A blunt and curious individual clearly not immediately cut out for the Talderan cold, leaving her home of Wind Reach...to what?
"What bring you here, Red Head? There are warmer places to take a vacation or sight see."
Her own curiosity was plain. She was well adapted to the tundra and the cold, and coming here was like the answer to a long unanswered question. That was not always the case for strangers, so she was always curious as to what brought them so far up north.
Snow in Winter: Morwen’s Way of Assuring Her Presence
Identifying a Foreigner in Avanthal
Avanthal: It’s Warmer in Winter
Notes: Yet another unfinished thread. It’s sad when I think of all the possible friends Sliver could have gained by now if these meet and greet threads have ended well. It happens though, however sad it may be.
I laughed out loud when Sliver first thought that H’veen was just a massive pile of fur. Sliver’s way of thinking always amuses me. Some silliness every once in a while is always welcome, after all!
H’veen :
Experience:
Observation +2
Anthropology +1
Lores:
Joy at Seeing the Sun after a Long While
People Watching at the Market
Avanthal: It’s Warmer in Winter
Notes: Your PC’s concept looks really interesting since, as far as I know, an anthropologist is quite unique in the setting of Mizahar. You’re writing style looks good as well and I feel that H’veen would have turned into a great character. That is why I find it sad that I don’t see H’veen around very much anymore. Please note that I am not imposing roleplaying to you, but I'm just tossing in my two cents here!
True nobility lies in being superior to your former self
If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out. Heehee.
by H'veen on December 11th, 2012, 12:27 am 
