A Break In The Storm

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Not found on any map, Endrykas is a large migrating tent city wherein the horseclans of Cyphrus gather to trade and exchange information. [Lore]

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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on November 25th, 2016, 12:12 pm

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57th FALL 516AV
Syna's Rise, Hot

  
     rufio awoke early this day. Syna was just peeking over the horizon as she stepped out into the morning. It was warm, for fall.

Consequentially, the flowers about the grasslands, confused by the unseasonal warmth, were still abundantly in bloom. Their sweet scents drifted on the barely-there breeze. It soothed the fortune-teller.

The Drykas had suffered of late. As always, it seemed.

Life was hard in the Sea Of Grass. Attacks of Zith, of raiders, of animals, even of the elements themselves in wildfires or droughts, was relentless. It was fortunate, then, that the Drykas were strong.

Taking a deep breath of the sweet air, Rufio smiled as she found her wheat-haired pavilion sister had already started a small fire amidst the Stormblood camp. She and Ixzo had joined Azmere Stormblood's pavilion a season ago.

Yet surprise stole into the fortune-teller's freckled features that she had spent so little time with any but Ixzo since. With a flicker of her ochre gaze over her shoulder, Syna catching on her nose-ring, she glimpsed the night-lion kelvic sleeping softly.

The nocturnal hunter had returned sometime in the wee bells, and would not rise not til the afternoon. Thoughtfully, Rufio considered her morning. Her work would not begin til the eve. With a warm smile, the fortune-teller decided she would spend time with Jasmine.

"Mornin', Jasmine." Rufio announced her presence cheerily, a grin seeping across her lips and making her round cheeks even rounder beneath her cropped mane of unruly curls. In bare feet and bare legs beneath the large mustard scarf wrapped about her as a skirt and fringed crochet vest, the fortune-teller pottered about.

She hummed a Drykas nursery tune as she gathered a pot and dried hyssops from a sack among her humble stores. She filled the pot with water from a pail standing under the awning of a tent, and came to sit with Jasmine by the fire.

Setting the pot to the flames, the fortune-teller waited for the water to simmer to a boil, before sifting a smal handful of the hysopp leaves into the pot to make tea. Soon, the mint-like aroma of the hysopps wafted and melded with the sweet scents of the warm Fall air.

"It's a beautiful morning." Rufio commented amicably, and asked with curiosity in the flutter of her sign. "What do you do today?"

  
Last edited by Rufio on January 15th, 2017, 8:26 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Jasmine Stormblood on November 27th, 2016, 2:21 am

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Jasmine brushed through her wild mane trying to get it tamed as she contemplated the day. With a sigh the girl just let her hair fall behind her not bothering to put it up. Grabbing her tie just in case it got in the way the young woman walked outside and stretched in Syna's light. A loving feeling encompassed the girl before she walked over to the main fire pit in the middle of all the tents. Kneeling down the girl began working on getting a fire started. She had to figure out what she was going to do for the day. But hunting was not an option as finicky as Chaser had been the last several times. The blonde wanted to give the stallion some time to rest and relax around the camp before going out again. The only thing was that Jasmine knew NOTHING of what goes on around a pavilion every day. She had not minded hard work growing up, but she had not wished to be around her father. So the female had stayed gone most of the time unless her fat-or rather man that had raised her was out hunting.

The blonde had stopped calling him Diahk(father) shortly after he had changed. Her past had left many scars that made the young woman jumpy. Maximus had decided to “train” her when she wasn't looking, causing her to be very paranoid when others walked up unannounced. Kneeling the pit the young woman put down the dried goat dung first, before putting some dry twigs and grass over it. Grabbing her flint and steel the girl struck the pair together getting just a few sparks. Nothing yet had caught so she got as close as she could to the kindling and struck it two more times. Finally a small spark caught, getting down low the woman blew on it gently as the flame grows bigger. Moving back the girl watches as the blaze starts to slowly gain heat. Her name being called caused the blonde to look up and meet her new sister. The young woman had previously met Ixzo, but her bondmate was a new person.

“Hello, Rufio. I have no plans currently. Is there anything that you need help with?” Jasmine wanted to ask the girl if she had any experience to share around the pavilion, but her pride kept from admitting it out loud.
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on March 21st, 2017, 11:50 am

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the short, freckled Drykas regarded Jamine's offer with a thoughtful smile as she settled down beside the fire. Watching the water warm to a simmer, steam wafting lazily, she flashed considering in her sign.

The fire was a vital source of heat, cooking and protection for the pavilion, so gathering the goat dung that fueled it came to mind. So did cleaning up the camp by washing last night's dinner dishes and gathering laundry to be washed or mended. It was a dry, hot day, suited for airing out sleeping furs and blankets too.

Rufio leaned forward to take up a spoon and stirred the hyssop infusion that had risen to a gentle simmer, releasing the flavour and herb's benefits. When the water was bubbling lightly, Rufio took a rag in hand and hefted the cooking pot away from the flames.

"There is much to do and I won't go to Ferem's until later."
As the pot left her hands, Rufio's sign fluttered bells spent home spent well.
"We can collect the goat's dung. It'll dry out in no time in this heat, for the fire-store. We could groom the goats, give Asher a day off?"

She chuckled lightly.

Elaborating her amusement in sheepish flurry of her hands lazy goat owner, bad habit. Rufio did not tend to spend time with her goats, as Asher managed them well.

The older Drykas was always trying to coax her into learning how to look after them herself. Useful skills to all Drykas He'd often chide her.

"It's so hot out..."
She mused with a drifting tone.
"It would be nice to go down to the lake for the day." wistful "We could gather water and bring it up for dishes, or we could take some clothes down for washing."
With a quirk of her brow she added.
"Or both." Kill two birds with one arrow.

As she rhymed her thoughts aloud to Jasmine, Rufio collected two clay cups from a pile of messy dishes sitting in an empty washbasin and set them by the pot of tea. With a quick look inside with a dubious frown.

Deciding they were clean enough, she made an offer of tea to Jasmine in her sign. After carefully pouring the tea, she handed a cup to her pavilion sister if she had said yes to the offer. When she spoke again it was with decisiveness underpinning her voice.

"Whatever we do, we should hang out the sleeping blankets and furs before we get to anything. No telling how long the rains will hold off. The smells and pests will flee under Syna's touch, freshen them up."

The half-Drykas puckered her lips by the egde of her cup and blew gently, peering down at Jasmine through the haze of the steam from where she stood, leaning into her hip and Syna's generous warmth massaging across her freckle-specked shoulders.
  
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Jasmine Stormblood on April 12th, 2017, 6:21 pm

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Jasmine looked up at the girl as she listed off a lot that needed to be done. Nodding the blonde tried to remember it all, though of course she knew there was no way she would. Hanging out all the furs seemed like a quick thing the woman could do before the tea was even finished simmering. Looking up the girl smiled seeing Asher walk over. He was the only one who knew of Jasmine's embarrassing secret. Thankfully the older drykas had not spoken a word about it to any of the pavilion members. Sure a good bit of them was outsiders, but the Drykas would look at her with disgust and pick on her about it. Or at least Lodai would pick at her; the others were likely to just look at her with a condescending face. The girl thanked Rufio when she tended to the tea as the blonde had forgotten about it in her nervousness. The feeling was becoming worse and worse as of late.

“So what are the two of you trouble makers up to today?” Asher asked and sat beside Jasmine.

“Just going over what needs to be done today,” Jasmine stated.

The blonde hoped that her short haired pavilion sister would not notice the strange look he gave Jasmine. After clearing her throat the girl made herself a cup of tea when it was ready. Asher followed suit as well; the blonde sipped on the concoction to calm her nerves before looking up at the two around her.

“Will you be out long today Asher?” Jasmine asked gently.

“Yes I have to go to the Healing Hoof and pick up some medicine for the goats then I will return after that,” Asher spoke and took a sip of his tea.

“Okay. We are going to drag as many of the bed pallets as possible and let them air out,” Jasmine explained.

“A good idea,” the man said and nodded before finishing his drink. Jasmine watched as he dismissed himself limping off for the moment.
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on April 16th, 2017, 6:13 pm

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   rufio quirked a brow and a faint grin in greeting over the steam of her tea as Asher approached.
“So what are the two of you trouble makers up to today?” He said as he settled himself beside Jasmine.
“Just going over what needs to be done today,” Came Jasmine’s reply, and Rufio watched as the two exchanged a glance.

    Oh, the fortune-teller saw the shared look. It was at the heart of her craft, after all, to notice things, to read signs, to interpret patterns and make meaning out of the vibes cast about her. Take in what emanated around her and reflect it back when the moment was just right, when the client was receptive to the messages borne for them.

        A reader of ripples in a lake.

The Benshira-born said nothing, and turned her seeing gaze to the distant pavilions about theirs, so as not to ruin Jasmine’s hope the look would stay subtle and secret. Rufio thought about their pavilion, then.

The Stormbloods, a kaleidoscope of spirits tied together by their quiet Ankal. Wandering winds, given direction by a Stormwarden.

At a glance, Rufio took Jasmine for the epitome of a good Drykas woman—quietly strong, neither in the flashy way of the men nor passive or meek, beautiful with her shining hair the colour of Summer grasses and a kind blue gaze, good with animals and a huntress. Rufio thought Jasmine was so unlike how she thought of herself.

Once upon a time that might have made her envious, but not now. Not after Ixzo. So much had changed since the night-lion Kelvic had bumped into her and made herself a presence in Rufio's life. Ferocity had grasped the half-Drykas and brought out her spirited heart.

In that glimpsed interaction between Jasmine and Asher, the fortune-teller caught a peek at something she was missing about the woman. Quietly, she reevaluated her impression, ebbing and flowing with the tides of getting to know another.

“Will you be out long today Asher?” Jasmine asked the old Drykas in that gentle way she had, and Rufio stood, listening in the lean of her posture.
“Yes I have to go to the Healing Hoof and pick up some medicine for the goats then I will return after that.”
“Okay. We are going to drag as many of the bed pallets as possible and let them air out.” Jasmine elaborated on the women's plans, and Rufio felt a smile lilt across her lips as he approved. Her hands took the shape of her appreciation, thanks "-for seeing to the goats."

As he nodded and took his leave, Rufio found herself watching Jasmine watching Asher leave. Rufio was reminded of how children sometimes watched their parents wander away as they were left with stranger relatives, their apprehensive gazes clinging to the backs of those they trusted most.

The fortune-teller sipped at her tea and wondered if Jasmine was uncomfortable in her company. If so, the thought didn't bother her, and that surprised the fortune-teller. Before—in her birth-pavilion, before Ixzo—the acceptance of others had been so integral to her happiness. What drove her now?

As her introspective mood took an uncomfortable turn, the woman took a breath and shifted her mood. In her hands she signed her need to get moving as she swigged down the rest of the tea.

“Let’s start with Lodai’s furs, he’s the sweatiest.” The half-Drykas chuckled to herself quietly. Of the Stormbloods, the big warrior was the closest to her in mentality and humour.

She set down her cup by the fire-side and rolled her shoulders before wandering towards the warrior’s tent, her feet padding against the dry, compacted dirt quietly. “We’re an odd bunch, Stormbloods, eh?” Her tone teetered between the innocent conversational, and curious digging.
  
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Jasmine Stormblood on May 25th, 2017, 5:12 am

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Jasmine finished off her tea before getting up and heading back towards the pavilion with a smile. Walking into Lodai's bed pallet first, she took it apart bringing it outside. Listening carefully the blonde hung them up on the lines out in Syna's light. The woman slowly walked over to the short haired Drykas and grabbed the rug beater. While Rufio made a list in her mind of all that needed to be done, the blonde walked over to the furs and began to beat the dirt and sand out of them. It still amazed the woman how the people of Endrykas could get so used to sand and dirt right against them as they slept. She would beat everything out more often, if her pavilion sister was willing to teach her what needed to be done.

The young woman's mother had actually taught her early on what all the tools to clean were, but never bothered trying to make her use them. Jasmine chastised herself daily for not listening to her grandmother and grandfather more as a child. Of course to that day, she believed that making amends with Maximus was useless and impossible. As the dirt came off, the blonde was reminded who's bedding she was working with. A disgusting smell floated into her nose making her eyes water and a shiver go down her spine. Shaking her head the blonde coughed some and used her shirt to cover her nostrils before continuing. Finally done after almost ten chimes, the blonde quickly moved away trying to breath clean air.

“I swear girl. That smell is from all his fur he wears on his back,” Jasmine spoke through a cough and winked with a smirk.

The female drykas was actually really excited to get all of the chores done. At least before Zulrav's rain set in again. Looking up at the sky, she shielded her face trying to see if any clouds had appeared. To her relief, everything appeared clear for the moment any way. The longer the weather acted right, the more the two women could get done about cleaning. It was time to made the pavilion smell of anything but sweat. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail already starting to feel the heat of the day. Nodding she fetched the next set of bedding. Standing on a log around the main fire pit. The woman held up the furs allowing Rufio to beat them out. Once she was happy with the amount of dirt that had fallen; the two laid them out flat on the ground.
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on July 27th, 2017, 10:03 am

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After sipping down the dregs of her tea, Rufio gathered the cups into the washbasin and set it aside. Perhaps she and Jasmine would have time for the dishes after the chores at camp were tended to. She followed suite, as Jasmine took to gathering Lodai’s sleeping furs Rufio steered herself towards Azmere’s.

Kneeling to grasp the ends in her small hands, the woman folded it inward, and then rolled the thick wools forwards, shuffling in her crouch as she went. Roughly rolled into a more manageable shape, Rufio braced her bare feet against the pavilion floor, and with bent knees and straight back, heaved the roll onto her shoulder to carry outside.

Avoiding the dust clouds that Jasmine conjured from Lodai’s furs with her beating of them, Rufio unrolled the Ankal’s blankets onto the ground. “I swear girl. That smell is from all his fur he wears on his back,” Jasmine smirked as she finished her task, and Rufio laughed in enthusiastic agreement.

Taking the length of knotweed stem they were using to beat the blankets, the crop-haired Drykas took it in two hands and, aligning herself side-on as Jasmine held out the blanket for her, swung it at the thick, hardy fabric. A poof of sand and grit shifted within the fibres, tossing up a cloud of dust.

With the two of them working away, it would not take them long to dust off their small family’s bed-furs. Syna’s generous touch warmed Rufio’s shoulder and prickled at the nape of her neck, sweat beaded along her forehead and the woman lifted an arm to wipe it away. The swing of the rug-beater tugged and pulled on her shoulders, and Rufio felt the muscles between her shoulder blades stretch pleasantly. Hard at work, it didn’t take the women long to dust down the small family’s bed furs.

By time they were done, Rufio’s freckles were slick with dust stained sweat and she was panting heavily. With a grin she signed glad to be done. “Let’s leave these to hang so Zulrav can sweep the sweet grass scents into them, and take away Lodai’s…” The woman’s brow quirked and she held back a girlish giggle as her hands fluttered unique musk.

Rufio was glad of Jasmine’s height and strong arms as they lifted the furs and blankets over the line. As they worked quietly, Rufio began to wonder about her sister. Why she had left her blood-pavilion, unmarried. Not able to keep the curiosity out of the posture of her shoulders, Rufio’s hands, freed from hanging hers and Ixo’s furs last, gestured to Jasmine. As I, you come here, Stormblood, from another pavilion?

The short, dark-haired Drykas stood before her taller, fairer sister a tick, peering up into her glowing features and a warmth of well-meaning, would like to know your story better was the undercurrent in her grass-sign.

Seeking ochre eyes visibly danced with thoughts. Rufio wondered if Jasmine was reserved, like their stoic Ankal, or open and trusting, like their favourite pavilion-uncle, Asher.

If Rufio sensed any sort of hesitation in the woman, she offered the woman a relief distraction by gesturing to the goats and horses. “Let’s gather the dung, I do not want to sit a night without fire if Zulrav will bless us with his song again.”

The Wildmane-now-Stormblood glanced up at the sky, and spoke with a amicable sarcasm, as if the thunder god was a grouchy, impish old man, and she a grand-daughter who hoped the old man would overhear and decease his mischief.
  
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Jasmine Stormblood on August 29th, 2017, 7:05 pm

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Jasmine looked over as the smaller woman brought out their ankal’s furs next. Once everything was shaken, beaten, and laid down; the blonde waved most of the dirt away from her face. She was kind of stunned to hear Rufio ask about her story. The woman tried to remember if she had ever explained to the pavilion what had happened between herself and Maximus. Not able to recall such a time the woman felt bad. The drykas had not intentionally left her pavilion members without this knowledge.

“Yes, I came from a very dysfunctional family,” Jasmine started out, “I don’t mind sharing at all. My past has shaped my future with all of you. As I told Azmere many seasons ago, I stand behind my actions right or wrong it does not matter.”

Jasmine paused a moment and knelt down helping collect the dried dung into the bucket. The two women had not spent much time together since joining the pavilion. Of course, the blonde had not wanted to come between the spirited young girl and her kelvic friend. She had not seen much of Ixzo since the beginning of the season. Taking a deep breath, the woman figured it was time to tell her story before asking Rufio of her relationship with dark skinned outsider.

“I’m sorry I seem to have gotten distracted,” Jasmine explained, “my story is a strange one. From the time I was born, there was a tension between myself and my pavilion’s ankal. When I was small my grandmother would assure me that everything would get better as I got bigger. She explained that as I grew and could do more for the pavilion Maximus would change. She was right he did change, but not for the better. Around the time I turned thirteen years of age, he became more violent than ever. It was as if the very sight of me just enraged him. About that same time Chaser was brought in to be broken so that he could be taken to the Windrunner pavilion to be kept until the bond happened. Well I never told anyone, at night I would sneak to where he was."

"After a season or so we bonded, Maximus was furious that I had “stolen” his “victory” from him. He beat me after I came back with grandpa from getting my windmarks. It wasn’t until the day I came here that I found out the truth behind his anger. Maximus was furious with my hair color and eye color because it proved I wasn’t his child. My mother had relations with another the night before they were to be married. I was the product of that meeting with the other man. Maximus could never let go of that anger; he never touched my mother the way he did me. I was glad if it meant she and my siblings weren’t in pain; I could learn to live with it," Jasmine explained.

Jasmine let her words sink in if the woman was doing the math in her head; she would know that the blonde had been beaten for fifteen years. Her words were true though, the blonde would take any kind of pain that kept her siblings from feeling it.
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on September 17th, 2017, 10:10 am

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      " Yes, I came from a very dysfunctional family,” Jasmine began telling Rufio, “I don’t mind sharing at all. My past has shaped my future with all of you. As I told Azmere many seasons ago, I stand behind my actions right or wrong it does not matter.”

    As Rufio set the bucket down to reach for a Syna-baked, crumbling patty of dung, she was struck by the openness and courage with which Jasmine was telling Rufio about herself. Quietly, with respect, her posture leaned into listening.

As Jasmine spoke, Rufio weaved herself this way and that, following the faecal treasures that her goats left behind. Every now and then she came near a doe, she pressed her hands into their warm sides and brushed her fingers through their thickening Fall coats to dislodge a tuft of grasses or a few stones tangled in dried dirt, before pushing the goat off and reaching for the fire-fuel under its feet.

        Jasmine spoke of her childhood, the kinds of tensions a child should not need to bear, and Rufio felt sad for her past. An ankal should be strong, and fair, someone his family could trust and confide in. When Jasmine spoke of her coming into womanhood, and bonding with a strider, and the violence that was wrought into her ankal, Rufio resisted the signs that wanted to lash into her hands, kept them working, collecting.

    Her nose wrinkled, tugging on her freckles, though, and her gaze prickled with her disapproval. Her hands gathered the dung, while she worked out the knots that were tangling in her stomach. Where came the ankal’s hate for a child in his pavilion? Rufio wondered. Children were the future of the Drykas.

As she searched the grasses for a patty, she glanced at Jasmine periodically, watching her golden locks and Syna-kissed face as she spoke.

        “It was as if the very sight of me just enraged him.” Her pavilion-sister said, and Rufio made a disapproving noise, hands breaking from their work, she could not resist a spat of anger for Jasmine’s past muttered under her breath. “A man who cannot control his anger or his jealousy is not worthy of leading.” Weak hearted, ill spirit.

  “I found out the truth behind his anger. Maximus was furious with my hair color and eye color because it proved I wasn’t his child.” Jasmine went on to reveal the secret of her birth, and Rufio paused, straightening up with surprise in the shape of her hands. Her heart felt conflicted as she wondered how she might have felt if she had been in Maximus’ boots.

        The feelings tugged in her gut tugged this way and that, before her hands shaped love “All children, no matter where they come from, should be loved.” Children are sacred. Even as she spoke and signed her thoughts, Rufio felt their uncertainty solidify in her hands. Yes, children were sacred, and an ankal that beat a child that didn’t invite punishment was a coward.

“Maximus never touched my mother the way he did me. I was glad if it meant she and my siblings weren’t in pain; I could learn to live with it.” Jasmine might not have meant to, but she spoke to Rufio of her selflessness. It drew a gentle smile into the fortune-teller’s freckles under a sadness that had settled there. She wondered at the woman she was living with.

    “You were strong...strong for your mother,” Rufio praised her, pride glowing in her hands and in her posture proud to know you, “Now you have a home that you don’t need to sacrifice yourself for us,” live for yourself, “we can be strong for each other.” true family.

As Rufio heard her shiber-tinged voice shape the words and her hands convey her meaning, and was surprised by how much she meant it.

      Jasmine had shared so openly with her, so much more than she had thought her asking would draw. Jasmine was the kind of brave that wasn’t in how much weight she could carry, or how deadly she was with a bow or a blade, or how loud she could roar over a challenger in a fury. It was in the quiet, iron-strength of feminine compassion and self-sacrifice. Rufio was reminded of Ixzo, and her fierceness, of Taurina and her soul-deep empathy, of Haena and her warmth in raising two children alone.

              Rufio felt something in herself waken to it.

      A chime of quiet settled over them comfortably. She gathered up the last lot of dung she could see about the small pavilion, before signing good work, finished, before asking Jasmine to help her with the bucket.

As they hefted the bucket in between them and began back towards the fire-pit, Rufio’s thoughts turned towards the Stormbloods, and Azmere, and the ways this family of strangers had a different spirit to Jasmine’s Maximus, or even her own line of Wildmane ankals.

“Stormblood is a fortunate name.” luck, strength, honesty, honour, Rufio grinned and light-hearted laughter tumbled off her lips into the Fall warmth.
  
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A Break In The Storm

Postby Rufio on October 2nd, 2017, 8:44 pm

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G R A D E



R U F I O

Click :
xp

Cooking +1
Socialization +1
Rhetoric +1
Organization +1
Observation +1
Bodybuilding +1
Cleaning +1
Wilderness Survival +1
Grooming +1


lores

Hyssop tea has a minty aroma
Organization: Listing tasks by necessity
Drykas Saying: Kill two birds with one arrow
Stormbloods: Wandering spirits tied together by their ankal
Cleaning sleeping furs by beating dust & dirt out
Jasmine: Strong, beautiful, skilled
Wilderness Survival: Gathering dried animal dung to fuel a fire
Drykas Culture: Children are sacred & should always be loved
Jasmine: Beaten by a violent ankal
Jasmine: Child of an affair



J A S M I N E

Click :
xp

Wilderness Survival +2
Socialization +2
Cleaning +1
Observation +1
Storytelling +1
Rhetoric +1


lores

Wilderness Survival: Gathering dried animal dung to fuel a fire
Wilderness Survival: Making a fire from scratch
Cleaning sleeping furs by beating dust & dirt out
Observation: Lodai’s smelly furs!
Rufio: An inquisitive woman
Jasmine tells Rufio of how she came to be Stormblood
Jasmine: Stands by her actions, right or wrong
Jasmine: Child of an affair
Maximus: Blames Jasmine for her mother’s affair
Maximus: Violent towards Jasmine


  
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