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[[quick note, PC story around 2 characters. If you have something that can be involved in meeting them or the magic locators of speedy for messages can be post.]]

Torzeng wrote:

Wes sits down on the sands next to Edonil and pats her hand lightly. "Just me love. You've already caught an eye but I think the understand you're a prize I'm not letting up." He states it calmly and peeks in the tent a moment. "I'm not sure I'm hungry just yet, thank you."

He ducks into the tent to shuffle his bag and make sure his rapier is sat across so it would be easy enough to grab if he really had to. He didn't see any reason for there to be trouble. But caution was never a bad thing either. As he moved to join Edonil outside again he ran his fingers through her hair and pulled a some of her bangs forward over her face jestingly. "You torment me oh so sweetly Er'thurkiitu."

He makes sure to go light on the wine so that his reflexes are not dulled, or not enough to be noticable. Joining Edonil for a little to eat without interruptions as the others are busy with their song, dance, and cheers still.

Taking both of Edonil's hands at once, he pulls her to standing with him with the excitement of festivities finally sinking under his skin aplenty. "Come with me my love and see if you can't teach my feet a little more grace," he laughs in bringing them around into the gathering where there is some space. Away from the individual dancers but they are not the only couple either. Weston can only do his best to push back his thoughts of the other lad about, near his own age, that hops around with grace.

Edonil was always able to outlast Weston when it came to the movements of dance with her years over him of practice. He let his legs wobble around as long as he could go before he insisted to take a break. He gave her a small cheer to keep dancing, and so did somebody else. Weston was not going to miss his chance to watch a performance of his beloved. Faith and duty had long kept him from seeing her truely weave along the ground in art and dance. Not to mention her rather exotic choice of clothes.

"She'll sing for us!" Weston called out as some of the music let down. He had better aquanted with a few others, a little drink may have gone around, and Edonil had some chance to rest of course if she wished it. Weston didn't quite regain his strength to dance with her a second time on purpose. "Won't you dear? A good song of merry."

It helped them leave a good impression with the gathered, some hospitality, joining the festivity, and Edonil's own performance of dance and song. But the night was resevered specially for the two once they parted from the main fire and cuddled inside the tent.

---~---

Next morning was met by Weston at the traces of dawn, a bit of sleeping in for him really. He had slept quite well once sleep was had. He could feel a sting of hangover much surprised he had enough to drink to aquire one. He did his best to clean up and prepare for the heat of the desert without bringing Edonil to waking. He stretched out and stepped outside to glance at the camp about with his shirt still off. Something very rare of his behavior, but the heat was still warm and not hot, dry and not muggy. It felt good over his skin and reminded him of a short-lived time when a long time dream of his was appearing to come true.

It is not unreasonable to say he was surprised at the whoops and jeer he got in good sport when a few of the men spotted him. Yes, the men, for he had realized Edonil's veil had caught on his pants much by mistake and was working on extracting the gauzy material without damaging it when spotted. To the others, it looked as if he were holding up proof of his prize. He swallowed the embarressment that came with his confused mind, the hangover sting did not help, and cheered back just hoping it was the right thing to do.

And then ducked into the tent the moment the whoops died down into chatter and laughing of the others back in their own affairs.

As Weston was moving into the tent, someone taps him from behind. Another voice of an old woman calls to the men "Tu tu tu" making them even more move along.

As he turns around its a woman bowing to him, she speaks the common tongue with a heavy accent, "My husband welcomes you to our encampment. He graciously, enjoy the dancing and musical voice of your prized wife. Especially, the song of her voice coming out the tent later. He wishes to see you, but first we are to tend to you in bathing and proper clothing" She bows again to him.

-------

Within the tent, Edonil did hear his voice and movements. She never was one for great endurance herself, a bit stiff still, she feels around for her clothing, finding all but her veil then pauses with a smile. ~He must have it, that would explain the cheering. A custom way of showing he took me as his wife. I wonder if he knows that, to keep others away from me?~.

She moves around to find the other robes for traveling in the desert sun. She struggles to get them on as the voice, she heard talking to Weston outside. She stops and tilts her head to listen.

-------

Weston, knowning it would rude to decline such an honor frets, as he turns back to the tent with concern for Edonil. The one woman that was shuu'ing off the men bring with her two plump figured veiled woman. The one talking in the common tongue grabs his arm and steers Weston away, to the riverside that is on the other side of the encampment, with one of the plump women. He would see the other two go into his tent while being dragged along.

Weston would see that there is plenty of life along the river with blushs, palms and more of shrubbery. The two women take off to a path that splits in two. He come to a place with a straw mat with a stool, a bucket with sponges, off the side other baskets on a fair size rug with sitting pillows. The two women only smile through the veils, start to remove his pants. Lucky for Weston, keeps something of undergarment on as they stop there and have him sit on the stool with the mat underneath.

They start to bath him with the sponges, giggle and talking once in awhile in the native tongue. Even take to wash his now med length hair and pony tail is in the back. They move him to the carpet with a few pillows, where he dries off. He can swear once in awhile hear Edonil not far off from him. Her laughter is unmistakeable, he can only smile in relief that she is okay.

Once dry the women opens up one basket with cloth within it. They have him stand and dress him in the custom white pants, shirt, waste scarf of dark red to white and a white robe. The last is the long scarf upon his head that matchs the scarf of waist. They wrap it about his, showing how to cover and uncover his face. "Honor and trust to another is to keep the face uncovered with men. Husband knew you not of desert by clothing and actions of last night. Your taking of prized wife to tent show as much too. Good of you to show the veil that you conquered wife as yours. Her looks would be exotic, yet her voice and movement makes her more prized."

She helps Weston get his new boots on that are another gift. "Now you are ready to see Husband. Follow" She leads Weston off to a large tent with an awning with a rug, sittling pillows, low tables with bottles and food. The elder woman and the plump one, bows to the closed tents and sits off the side with no pillows. Out steps a tall man with mustache, well tanned face and a white turban. He speaks well common to Weston "Welcome Stranger to my encampment, I am humbled by your actions last night with your wife" he smiles offerring Weston a sit upon the pillows, "My wives treating you well?"

------

Meanwhile, Edonil was treated the same in the bathing by the two women. They kept looking at her oddly, as one waves a hand before her eyes. The other shakes her head. "Pardon, I might have no sight but I can still hear you move around" They look a bit shock and mumble thousand apologies. "It's alright, I will not harm. I only defend" They two look confused. They take her off back to her tent. They start to show her what is to be expected in being a wife in the desert ways of living and surival.

A few times, Edonil sings her magic in doing something. They women in awe, saying "She is blessed by the Goddesses" Took awhile to understand what they mean. Isis and Hathor, the old pantheon of the Mulhorandi. She sat and learned much during the time that Weston was seeing their husband. They even showed how to set up a proper tent to welcome others.

Still, Edonil keep feeling there was someone watching her every move...

-----

Weston never got his chance to try and hide away in the tent and recouperate his thoughts. In all honesty it was not occuring to his mind what had just happened and why. He turned around to see whom wanted his attention.

He could tell the woman was being quite serious, and as much he wanted to duck and cover, he was obligated to nod politely "If he insists, then of course."

--~--~--

Given a moment while the wife of the leader went for her peers, Weston poked his head in the tent, passing Edonil her veil, and having to go being the women are ready to take him aside.

He is ready to give a firm hand during the bathing at anytime, but never has to, doing his absolute best to keep his mind steady that he is in a new situation, a different culture, and acting the part to the best he can would ensure he did not offened.

It gave him some time to mull over what was going on. Edonil had mentioned to him customs before, she understood them better so far. He stabilized his sensability recalling that he was not just able to take charge of situations, but rather expected to be a dominant male; depending. They were newcomers, he had to come off strong but hospitable.

Weston was grateful for the pointers on how to keep is garment portrayed correctly and staggered slightly when the wife woman spoke so openly to him of what was the situation. He acknowledged that, indeed, he wasn't quite one of the desert.

--~--~--

Weston kept his face scarf down as he was shown to going before the leader of the group.

"You're wives are quite kind," he compliments and offers the man a bow. "And it sounds as though my wife was being treated equally well. Which is good for I am quite protective of her." It is not a threat but quite a factual comment. And strange to Weston that he finds himself using the term "wife" when, to his culture, there has yet to be that status of union made.

"I am gracious how openly you welcome us to the gathering here of last eve'." Weston takes a seat upon the pillows as he sized up the man, the distance to his tent, and how well he can move in the new sun-bleached white clothes. There was not a sense of underlying hostility from anyone but Weston would be a fool to assume along the sands. Nomads had assaulted him before plenty a time while in need of chinchona bark.

"You are an astute observer to realize my wife and I are not ones of the desert quite yet. Though I lived here a time, it was still among the adobes and markets. The extent of which you offer your welcoming suggest to me there is something you wish to discuss of importance."

He keeps himself sat up straight with a confindence and his general kind smile. It felt like there could be a contest of supremacy, Weston already with a gimp leg for the fight being a foriegner. Not that it was a matter of winning, but a matter of testing mettle.

The nomadic leader boldly laughs to his words, "Indeed my wives have served me well over the years. My first is getting old but her intelligence is of great value, I am Akhem Shara, the leader of this nomadic clan." He eyes Weston a bit.

"Yes, it was quite obivious by your attire. What you both worn into the camp before changing into the clothes for the festive relaxation. Yourself play your hand well in greeting us all. Then your claim of your prize wife." he grins, clapping his hands. "She enthralled a few men around here with her dancing a few new moves not seen before. Her voice was of serene joy to us all."

His wife comes forward with a pot and cups, pours two drinks "Black tea, enjoy and fruit. My clan is of merchantile business now. Traveling at times of the season for goods. You will see many of my people around this area selling and teaching." The wife gives him a small cup with the warm tea, setting the fruit down. "I was told you even shown to the men that your prize is claimed by our customs of the viel ceramony."

He watchs Weston reactions, letting them soak in a bit.

----

Meanwhile in the camp, Edonil is quickly learning a few new customs, she did not know about. They showed her the feeling of fresh cleaning linen and how to dry on the lines. Things of being a wife and what is expected. While working with them, she sang softly hymns then the others picked up and sang in their own native tongue. This only made her smile all the more.

Many at first were unease, because of her blindness. Edonil, with her other sense made up in other areas. It was later, the two took her to the main leader's tent. They had her sit down just outside in silence. As they listened. The other two that served Weston, goes to open the tent, letting the breeze blow into the covered shade. That would be when Weston finally sees Edonil.

They have her hair back in serveral braids with beads on the end, the linen robe is the simple fresh white, draped upon with a mid section sash that matchs his. She just sits on her knees, with head slightly tilt listening.

Akhem claps his hands, few of the wives bring forth instrustments. "Please, entertain us this hot day with a song." He looks at Weston for permission, not Edonils. She was just about to speak up when she felt the tap of one of her escorts with a slight shh.

Weston ajusts how he sits to lean forward softly showing attentiveness to the conversation. "Then it is well to meet Akhem Shara," he nods kindly like to any other he might and replies, "I am Weston Carter, a healer."

It had occured to him that while Salandra's teachings were known to the adventurous of the main island, this far to the desert Her words might not be so well heard. If the importance of the goddess was known to the people here, they would know Weston's faith by the pendant he kept displayed. Even in the wrapped attire he inisted carefully that his pendant be able to be seen.

It was not a matter of knowing he had to keep his composure, but it was certainly difficult to know in what way to act accordingly. Weston accepted the drink offered to him simply holding it between his hands. "So I did," in response to the comment of the displaying the viel. "If I have been told correctly, it is blessing as well that the showing is acknowledged." Yes, that seemed right, seemed so. His mind was fast-tracking his thoughts with limited consideration before speaking.

Weston still delayed testing the tea in his hands, turning his head as the tent was opened. There, Edonil, she was safe but something tingled under Weston's skin that something was not quite right either. Maybe it was simple paranoia of a lover parted unwittingly.

His eyes traced the braided hair, over the beads threaded in, and the way Edonil sat wrapped in equally clean linens as Weston had been presented with. It was how she sat upon her knees that triggered his concern whether it had merit or foolishness.

"I am obligated," Weston replied quickly to the request directed at him. "But it will be my wife's choice of song. Her repertoire is more vast than I've yet to hear all myself." "That should be the best I can do," he considered in his mind realizing what put goosebumps on his skin. He understood many cultures had such an emphasis on the leadership of the male, but it was not a way he learned by as an orphan, nor with his finacee-wife with how strong her own personality was to live free. He took a sip of the black tea biting down the urge to cough with the bitterness of it. "Show my wife the space she needs," Weston commanded as he glanced at Akhem's women or wives, whichever they were.

Hearing Weston voice eased some of her own tension. This was her choice to come this way. To live among the people, the customs of old and accepting a few of the new ways of the treatment of women. Some of the old ways will never die, that she did learn today. In some ways it was comforting, others not.

She leaned over to the two women she can hear nearby that moved just behind her, "Play something soft, that of the gentle breeze" Oddly, she felt the women understood the metaphyors. She heard alot of that type of speaking from them. They start to play as her voice low in tenor.

~I sit and listen to the winds,
Blowing softly across the shifting dunes,
A simple life to await the return,
Of a desert flower in full bloom,
A rare chance to see such,
A trial of the spirit to await,
Patience needed to remain so strong, O`..~

Her voice range in the tenor octave, keeping the tones in harmony.

~A virtuous heart to contain the joy,
Delving deep into the mystery of life,
Awaiting the time for this single chance,
The moon rises high across the night,
A sky filled with a thousand wishes,
The desert moon comes to its full,
A single flower blooms in the night. O`..~

The two women continue to play, noting the O' again, they move the sounds of their instrustments, letting Edonil A' O' to a hum in her tenor voice before the last line.

~A single flower blooms in the night. O`..~

The players understanding that is the end of the song of peotry then finish nicely. Akhem claps, "Wondereous an ode to evening flowers. Insteresting, do you know there are some flowers that do bloom in the evening than the sun? They are rare, highly valued smell among us. Evening Jasmine is such a flower, harvested into a perfume. Only grows around water, if you smell that in the evening out in dunes, you know there is an oasis around."

He turns to Weston with a hearty grin, "You both are welcomed here anytime under my protection. You being healer?" he hums in amusement, "Then I need your aid for a few children are sick with fever. No insect bites, even a few of the men are starting to show signs. We been praying for aid. Hathor has seem to bless us with twice over with the two of you coming to our troubles"

Upon hearing the words of Akhem the leader, alerted Edonil. She turned her head to where Weston voice has been. She only blinks once to him with a slight nod. Letting him know, this is good to help. She always been proud of his healing ways. She might be a Warsong of Tempus, but healing the wounded and sick took real courage. To face the dying and all the blood shed and at times the loss of losing those within your care.

This alone, she always felt that what Crunch was amused and happy for upon hearing them together. Edonil can sing and fight in glory of Tempus in battles for the men and women, Weston next to her, aiding the wounded warriors that fallen to fight another day, even to see to the safety of those they are protecting.

War Knights of Amia, always waits to see the balance of those around before taking up arms. They often see to the people that can not defend themselves, the innocents of people caught. A decision of withhold a blade is also a hard choice as well. Those, that select the Warlord of the War Knights, face this everyday of where the Knights should stand.

The two women guide Edonil to sit next to Weston. She nods to them and sits side-ways to lean toward him, a switch this time for them. Weston normally lets Edonil take the pillows and him leaning toward her, as she carressed his hair and shoulders in relaxing him. Oddly, she found this not so bad, a nice switching of positions.

She knows that Weston could not resist the aiding of sick children and others. She whispers softly for him to hear only "I can help you with this my love. Just tell me what to do."

--

"You'll have to love," replied Weston as Edonil sat up against his side. "I am needed in two places."

Indeed, while Edonil had been singing her second verse, Weston sat with his head between his hands and slightly bowed. His lips had been moving in silent words to nobody in the tent. He had a bit of distaste for the headache it always caused him. But what happening elsewhere was important as well.

Not now, not now, he considered selfishly. He hated these moments more than the headache of words being spoken into his mind from afar. Akhem had people, children, who had apparently unexplained fevers. But elsewhere, Weston knew the time was dawning for the opportunity long awaited to settle other matters that were potentially lethal.

Weston draped his arm about Edonil's shoulders and smiled to Akhem. "Of what I may need is in my tent still. We'll ajurn for a moment as I do need private word. It is in my faith to help, so you shall have it." He tapped Edonil's hand before moving to stand up, "hold my arm," he whispered to her as to be guided along.

Weston dismissed himself from Akhem's tent with Edonil set to his left side. They walked the to their own setting and he led her to ducking inside. Two of Akhem's woman had followed, naturally, to show who was ill when Weston was ready.

"Words from Cordor," Weston spoke softly to Edonil not wishing to be overheard. "It's the right time to go. The threat to Cordor to be ended in all hopes." He shuffled his messenger bag taking one of the spiderwebbing pouches from inside to put in Edonil's hand. "I'll see to the people here when I get back. Of all times," he muttered at the end.

He gave Edonil a kiss (sliding the viel aside) and guided her hand over the two pockets on the pouch. It was a general medicine to take two of the herbs for making a tonic drink to keep the body regulated to which he quickly explained to her. They embraced inside the tent before Weston had them step back out to the waiting women.

"Tell Akhem my sincerest apologies I must delay. There is a promise I have to fulfill. Edonil has my medince pouch, make the tonic as she can show you for those with fever." "We'll be speaking again by sunfall at the very latest Er'thurkiitu."

[[ooc = was determined this post to 'catch up' to events elsewhere by timeline]]

Edonil nodded in understanding, she took his medicine bad and headed off the women. Lucky for her that she has learned the bases of healing techinques. She first went and checked the children there.

Light fingers on the foreheads, leaning down to smell their breath and many questions. Then it hit her "Water!" she went looking around the water source to the river itself. Children do not drink the boiled tea of the parent. Weston and herself, used their waterskins so far.

She made her way to those sick with fever and the continual drinks they been having since. Edonil beamed at herself for figuring out the basic issue. Even back in the Temple of the swamp, nobody drinks the water their straight, always boiled the water first.

She went through Weston medicine kit he left with her, starting to smell each herb. She placed them around her, as the two women escorting around watched on with curious looks. "Please get a large pot of river water and set it boiling hot. Enough for a cup per person in the encampment." They called out and gave orders to the other women around. Edonil raised her hand to one of the women to get her attention, "clean linen for those with fever, the children first".

Once the kettles going she drops herbal packets, "get all cups in the water the big pots to clean, smaller pots drop this packet in to brew tea for the sick." As the packets get sent around, "the clean linens dip and let it cool in the wind to place on the forehead. The river warer is sick to drink til you purify the water with heat. Its is poison to drink, bathing is okay. Men not sick because of hot tea removed the sickness." Alot of "Ahs where heard."

It was many days that past in tending and cleaning out the sickness of the body's. Her assumption was on the mark as laughter of children could be heard. Edonil, spent her time keeping busy as she slowly made allies or friends with the women. Her songs of the world beyond the sands, were in slight amusement. She did not dance for them without her 'husband' to watch her.

Still the whole time, she felt odd at times. A smell, soft movement of steps in the sand outside the tent, to even the feeling someone watching her. She did not want to say anything to those she made friends with. She content they accepted her odd looks and blindness, not comply over compensating for her. She kept her staff near her at all times.

It was one day with the children playing around her that she heard it. A slithering hiss in the sands. Many of the children came to her tent often for she earn that trust in healing the sick to watch over them. Odd, being blind and taking care of the mid age children of five to twelve seasons when they are not doing chores.

She moved quickly with her staff in hand, slamming it down on the body, swings it up, sending it flying into the river nearby. As her staff spun around and into place as a walking stick. A combat move she learned from her many mentors, although it was more to swing between legs of men or women. The children stood looking at her in silence.

"Everyone alright? Nobody is harmed?" A few of the children took off back to the encampment calling out in their native tongue. An older girl of the children speak out for she was learning the more common tongue "How.. how, women are not fight as such". "I was defending not fighting, even a Mother knows how to wield a knife. I use the staff for it does serve many functions for me."

Few women and men came out to find out what all the yelling is about. Edonil only sighed, for this could be bad or good. She heard the camp leader voice in the mix. When it was time came to explain it all ending with "No offense to your custom ways was meant just protect anyone from getting harmed". A roar of laughter from the leader then echo'd by others.

"We thank you for the aid, Hathor sent us a blessing in disguise. We are going to move the encampment for more clean water. Since your husband is still away, you are under my tent in care and protection. It has been decided and shall be done." He claps his hands and calls to the people in native tongue. Edonil now was worried, they are leaving and she can not refuse this offer. ~Weston, I pray you can find me. Tempus, forgive them for the misguideness of thinking of another diety, I shall help these people.~

-

Weston slipped from the camp with the use of his portal rod once everything was in order for what could be done. Edonil could keep herself safe, that was not largely a concern of his. Then again, he was not expecting to be away for more than the day.

---~---

But things had to be done in Cordor. He met with allies as agreed and time was fortiutious. What came of it all was questionable to Weston however. He found himself swept up in a fury of emotions and had to set himself upon at the Temple to calm down and collect his thoughts. This carried him over into the second day, and that into a third as he realized his life was going to feel divided for a time.

There was good news in it all. A few trite matters arranged that could at least tend themselves when he could not be around to oversee the matters himself. It was going to be more difficult and yet he was determined to use his gift of time to track how well he could balance between his tenets, family, and training.

He was upset with himself over the extended stay away from where he felt he needed to be with Edonil. He was loosing his naive thoughts of family life being easy to maintain, be happy with. Once he was satisfied things seemed in order again, he used his portal rod to get as far in the desert, as close to the old camp, as the laylines of magic allowed him to.
---~---

Weston made sure he was in the linens he had been given. He had not worn them as to best preserve the cleaness appearance while about the cities of Amia's main island. The sands were calm with little wind, but he kept up his shawl all the same in case. He was meticulous in taking it off and was quite sure he had wrapped himself again as shown once before.

"It is a kind motion but won't be required," Weston stated as he walked up to Akhem and Edonil. He had found himself dodging what seemed to be a flying snake as he spotted the encampment. It was not hard to realize what must have happened by how the people gathered. And the fact the snake was tossed instead of decapitated.

Weston felt a bit lost at what he should say. He had been away on matter that he'd vowed to see through. All he could think of was the need to hear what had transpired at the camp over the time he was away. Although the crowd's inclusion of children nearer Edonil suggested that whatever fever had been was not so much anymore.

"Once the encampement is moving, I hope there can be chance to speak Akhem," Weston drew his eyes back to the man offering a small bow. Why he was developing this habbit so readily was strange to Weston but it felt quite correct to be doing so instead of his usual nod to friendly strangers.

Edonil was guided back to the tent so that it could be prepared for moving with the nomads. Weston spoke with her casually with news that would sound strange, surely, to all the others around.

"It was the affairs of Cordor," Weston began calmly. "Another of the commonwealth's council has died. The minister of magic, Reyes, is dead." Weston said very simply. But the importance was still there. "What I agreed to be part of is over to the best of my knowledge. Which also means that the zeitgest, that time creature, should be gone."

He picked up the poles of the tent with the inside packed up and rolled them into the canvas. It was an easy to set-up gnomish design, but pulling it apart was still just as much work as a normal tent. "Sister Angelita discovered the cure as well to that plauge. The drow plague is ending, or over, I'm not sure how far the treatments have gotten. But the most critical cases have been cured."

He was only partly consciencious about the public display of affection whilst guests in a nomadic community. He stayed close to Edonil, he had after all said he was very protective of her, and occasionally trailed his hand over her braided hair and the beads woven in. "What has happened here?"

Ahkem to was happy to see the return of the husband and less protections of all his responsibilities. "Ah good good, we are departing for cleaner waters." He acknowledges the bow and returns it in kind. Claps, his hand to all around can calls out to ready to break camp.

She was so relieved upon hearing Weston voice as well. Going off with Weston back to where their tent is. Listening to all he has to say before replying. "So everything on the Amia island is settling down for awhile, which is good to hear. The people here were sick from bad water in the river. Taught them to boil all water before use. Few of the women said there are places around where the water is sweet to the taste, clear as the the morning sun to the sand below. Also, think they made up their mind to leave about a large crocdile posting around the area." She helps place things her their packs for traveling.

"For every blessing, the dark ones reply in kind. That was one saying I heard over the last few days. O' I did not use all the herbs in your sashel pack, could use more of the sage." At the touch of his hand she wanted to just fall into his arms. Only held her stay for did not want to look weak, nor have the time to tell him about the lurking around her that she just kept feeling. "I think they are going to head more up river or to a location around a small pond of an oasis."

She sat down their rug, the last thing to pack up before moving. She felt the cool breeze of the evening starting to set in. "Evening breeze just arriving, guess we be moving under the stars. Reasonable when you have children to worry about." Once Weston sit down next to her, she leans in with a whisper, "I think I have a strong admirer. Its no child, but one that is stealthy on their feet in the sand. Think Ahkem knows a little of it. Why else wanting to protect me while your away?"

Edonil moves her hand between them to hold his and squeezes. Whispering still "Never a dull moment for our lives. I am very happy you came back when you did. Been missing your warmth at night."

Weston nodded to Edonil's words to acknowledge he was listening despite the fact she would not be able to see it. He had grown that acustom to how she made up for her lack of sight at times that it could slip his mind.

"It seems to be calming down, but it won't be Cordor if there isn't a crisis in two weeks. I know it's horrible to say, but you'd be hard pressed to find a citizen there who doesn't agree when they think about it."

"The water supply?" Weston looked in the general direction of the river before he sat down next to Edonil to peer at the rest of the camp just about ready as well to move on. "Upriver may not solve the issues alone, boiling the water is a good move though -and it would shock me if you went through all of the herb satchel. That was three months worth of dried herbs; some I still kept with me."

Sitting down gave proper chance to finally place his arm around Edonil's waist and hold her up to his side on the smaller rug. He dropped his voice soft like she did hers. "An admirer?" Weston may not have been too worried if it was not for how Edonil chose her words. "Or it is Akhem having you watched." He sighed to give himself pause and spoke carefully. "I have been attacked many times crossing the sands by nomadic bandits. Not always far from adobes and guarded walls."

'Never a dull moment...' "I suppose so." Weston kissed Edonil upon the forehead. "They are readying to walk," he gave his hand to help her up (if she needed it or not). Weston ajusted his bag comfortably and used his sash to retain his rapier to his left side he'd be able to easily grab it. Although it was not his better skill, using the rapier was more logical in the desert so far. The morningstar was just as accessable but not as quickly with it resting on the top inside his bag.

Weston moved with Edonil through the group until they were nearer Akhem again. Most of the other faces were only familliar, he had not had chance to work on names yet. Still, it was enough that he would get to speak unless Akhem had other plans. It was his goal to ask, carefully, about the god that was being praised- Hathor; once the group was in motion.

"You already know well that I am still quite unexperienced with the dune and sand for living. Unfortunately my lack of study extends to the pantheon as well; which you keep praising Hathor. I am interested to hear of this faith you have."

//I hate clocks.

Akhem looks at Weston for a moment on his question "Hathor is one of the eight old gods that graced our lands. This was long ago, many have been forgotten over time, yet some of us of the nomadic ways keep them remembered." He looks to one of the men as another tent comes down.

"She is the nuturing Mother. One who does not have care of status, we all children are equal in Hathor’s eyes. Provide sustenance for the hungry, healing for the hurt, health for the diseased, and protection for the endangered. Provide sustenance for the hungry, healing for the hurt, health for the diseased, and protection for the endangered. That is her calling." Our clan looks highly up the old ways. This has served our women well in caring for us men.

"Some has said the old ones have left us. We do not believe this, we accept the new ways of the people around, but respect the old as well. There been said a rise of the old ones is coming. We pray for Hathor and Isis for strong children, merriement and protection. Nephthys for the ways of the merchant and protection of the wealth we hold. Anhur, our Champion of the Physical Prowess in the battle we face daily in surivial. Protecting our land for it is our Mother. Protect the people of Khem and the property of the church of Anhur, for it is your home you defend with the fury of a lioness defending her cubs." Ahkem says with pride to Weston and Edonil standing next him.

He frowns "Beware the wiles of Set, for his spies are everywhere, and his actions turn brother upon sister and parent upon child; his taint poisons the waters of the land of your heart. Defend against the fierce storms that sweep down from the north, for they are the work of crimson magic. Carry the peace and prosperity of Khem and shepherd the people during their time of need." He still looks around the encampment. Camels packed and loaded.

"You do not need to come with us, but would be more than welcomed. Thus, can teach you more of our ways of lands of Khem. We are heading a direction of an oasis pool that we know is clean and not tainted." Akhem smiles upon Weston and gives a slight bow with the roll of the hand from his forehead to them both "May the blessings keep you both safe from harm. We have seen these suns and moon in passing show that you two are watched from above. Hathor and Isis are well seen in your wife. Her praise of your skills as a healer and defender are marked upon by her words. May they protect you." He says as he goes to the head of the ready caravan.

Edonil covers her face with the scarf that is provided in the robes for traveling. She whispers to Weston, "Its a rich enviroment here with alot of history. I have noted that some of their dieties our like our own. Hathor is like yours. While this Anhur is like Tempest of a warrior. This clan waviers the old and the new, keeping thier mind open but holding to traditions." She waits for what Weston like to do in following them to a new place for water or travel around this area.

Weston takes in what Akhem has to say about the gods and goddesses, lightly interested and partially unsure. He steps back and next to Edonil as Akhem fronts the caravan and the nomadic people begin their steady walk under Akhem's guidance.

It comes across to him as being odd there is the choice they could follow, or be on their own way. Somehow he expected that choice was made in silence already to try and stay with the group. Where the notion had come from, Weston was unsure, but he felt it. He slipped his hand into Edonil's as if they were getting ready to stroll through a town back on Amia. Follow, leave? He believed to know what Edonil's answer would be if he asked her. And so they moved with the group as it stretched itself into a short line.

They slowly fell towards the back of the group by Weston's own slower pace. And an odd reclusiveness washing over him. There had been short talk with a few and then he went silent until just the two of them could speak softly while walking.

"You've learned more than I have of these nomads, what they consider to be tradition. Is it what you want?"

Edonil going along in the slow pace with Weston. Herself unsure what to do, it was strange to just be with the nomads. Over the short time, she honestly felt as a just a woman. A dancer, singer, storyteller to the children of this clan. Most of all, content in some ways.. her a wife by customs here to Weston. To just be...

She tilts her to Weston question, not sure what to say for once. She was enjoying this nomadic company. They were most welcoming and willing to teach both of them the ways of the desert.

"I am not sure, I have had no calling of Tempus or the War Knights. I told them where I will be. Someways, kinda here as a scout in wondering if they could survive this type of terrain and life." She pauses in her thought, was that the reason why she came? One of the many excuses or reasons..

"hmm husband and wife we are here, outside to the rest of the world beyond, we are two that has been tangled in the web of troubles and time. Our luck or fate has drawn us to these people that are willing to teach us how to survive out here. Learn of their culture. I heard what he said about the old dieties and they know of the new influences coming into their lands." She pauses in her words, walking with her staff, her face covered from the dust that is kicked up by the camels and few wagons.

"West'on my husband.. Its not just about me, its about us. I know there are several oasis pools along the Khalem river we can stay to camp near and live. I know you have alot of duties to your higher Lady in healing and many back on the main island of Amia. I also know there is several dangers around us. Including having someone continuing to watch me. This choice is not easy, I do feel they rather have us with them. There are no healers among them. Just basic knowledge. That also all I know too."

Inside, Edonil is cringing in the decision, not knowing what to do.. they did need someone like Weston with them. Did his Lady Salandra easy us towards them in an odd way? Tempus as well so we both and learn more of these people? Was is luck or fate.. ? "My husband, I am not sure myself.. oddly think we should stay awhile longer with them. To learn the truth of the people of Khem. Not just second hand like those of Nes'ek, where it is a trading spot of faith. Even them Kellies are pushing into what they do not understand of the customs of the people. Respect the old ones and give light hand of the new. We both know there are similarites among the many dieties. Let us learn the right way.. not the forceful way as many are doing now."

She felt her wisdom was true enough from her own perception. She has heard how many of the faith come and push their ideals upon the people. Only makes them retreat and resent more. If nothing is learned of the people themselves, how they survive, live and view life in general, it will cause a holy war.
War is something she knows of being Tempus follower and a war knight. Tempus not one for a holy war. War for another cause in protecting, not enforcing his presence. What her Father taught her about Tempus, protect what you feel is right, rage war if need be to protect that cause. What feels right now is learning of the people to work with them, not against what they already have and believe.

"Weston what does your instincts tell you? Not so much your mind, but your instincts from your gut. I think that would be our answer to all this. My own is stay along and learn more. They have patrons like our own faith, it would not betraying them or our own if we stay to learn. Cordor will always have saviors, you were apart of it. I just listened to it and laid a few trails for my family to follow if they wanted too. We both have wands that we can use to port back in forth." Then she facepalmed, "This clan are merchant nomads.. you can work with them in tradeing of your herbs and medicine. That is or this is what fate brought us together." she smirks and grins still walking along. "Choose your path wisely for its before you now." smirking "an old proverb from a book or perhaps it is true not so much a story. Let your gut tell you where to go."

Weston genuinly enjoyed hearing Edonil's choice of wisdom regardless how it further stirred the butterflies in his stomache. There was certainly some things that left him hesitant to seek a sense of home in the desert. The first few days of travel had seemed quite easy as he lost himself in the notion when he caught up with Edonil. Reminders had come to him however when he went back to the main isle. Time was the greatest concern of his if this was going to happen.

"It is hard to choose by instinct, by faith, or by commitment Edonil. I am trying to balance the logic of all my feelings. But for now we are following them."

The pace was steady for the caravan as it worked around small dunes caused by the winds. On occassion it was possible to spy where a face of the canyons lifted out of the sands by how the dark outlines hid stars.

"By instinct, I want to turn away. I fear the presence of Kelemvore's under Sharina's zealot leadership. I have memories that linger in djedet that are as bad as there are good. I get an eerie feeling from the concept of living with a home that moves depending on where the tent is set. I have always desired something more reliable to a sigular location."

He let go of Edonil's hand for a moment so that he could rest his palm in the small of her back, walking closer with enough managable room for the odd terrain of slightly loose sand.

"If I consider it from a perspective of commitment, we're joined by their traditions and our own love. I want to try very hard to satisfy your interest even when it may not be as much my own. I realize you appear comfortable within their group already and feel it would be wrong to try and change that."

A chinchora tree sat alone at a puddle worth of water marking a bend in the traveling path that Akhem seemed to know with minimal landmarks; perhaps using astrology to help guide the path. Weston could only speculate.

"If I consider it by my faith, there is a fair point they have only a basic understanding of healing. That is with most any group that could be found. By staying, they may learn, or at least can have my aid. But there will be more than these people who have to find me- or I find them. My duty entrusts I can make the right choice as to where I need to be."

He laughed softly at the suggestion of trading. "I do not barter my services, Edonil, it would be sin. It is understandable one may trade the herbs when there is surpluss. But giving it in gift and benevolence is an act of worship. I am no merchant love, it is not a place for me to be." He gripped her hand to pause her (the caravan clearly going on if they came or not) and unwrapped the cowl o'er her face so she could be kissed.

"For now we're just following them."

Wrapping his own scarf up correctly, he thought, Edonil getting her own, they returned to walking as to catch up. They would blend back into the group only falling slightly behind if words were preffered kept more private.

She thought upon his words and even her own. She does not know where her knowledge or wisdom comes from. By far she is younger than him still by the aging of even drow. She will look young for a long time once she hits that age.

How she enjoyed that kiss, that feeling of his love. Even the odd confidence he has in knowing where they are going or not going in some since. "Following.. Guess even with your eyes, we be following blind in some ways. As for that one order here now. You know I have no care for their kind. They are more blind than I am. I do in some ways, fear for these people from them. Pushing upon them their ideals, when its clear from learning, they already are content in their ways."

She pauses in thought before speaking again, "Live day to day, not knowing what the future brings, for the future is only a step at a time." frowns a little "I think I read too many books. I know one day, I would like to set down in one place, but so much to learn and to learn is to experience. We both are still young, West'on... well your a grown man but I am not full grown into my adult body yet. Perhaps, when we do conceive a child between, then a home. Agreed?"

----

Up at the front of the caravan train of Akhem's, they been following the stars and landmarks both. A few runners scouts by horse and all well armed for bandits are known everywhere, no matter the countryside. Over head a few stars shooting by in the heavens as a few of the folks mummer "An omen, a time of change is coming to the land." "We already have two that reflect that change." "tut tut tut" cries a few of the older women to silence the gossip.

[[AGAING PCs & DM's are welcomed to add upon anything here for Fun and interaction, just keep IC]]

"A child deserves to have a proper home," Weston said very flatly, but still meaning to agree with Edonil. He looked out towards the shadow against the stars that gave outlined notion of the cliffs that sprouted over the desert. It seemed to be generally the direction Akhem was leading the nomads.

The location was a bit shy of reaching the rocky plateaus. By the time the perimiter of the camp was being roughly determined, there was only a few hours left to daylight. Weston's reactions had grown sluggish halfway along the invisable roadway with oncoming sleep deprivation.

As intended, an oasis was only meters from a tent. It was sizable enough to sustain the people for two or three weeks, longer upon chance of good rain. A few date palms survived there as well. It was perhaps a classic notion of what a desert nomad lived by in a story book.

Weston worked on setting their tent finally admitting to himself he was not prepared for the long night and asked for a helping hand from one of the other men. "You would make a poor scout to be so tired in just a day," was jestingly said. Weston could only offer a dry chuckle not wishing to debate that.

"I do need to lie down," he told Edonil. "Four hours until sunrise here. I'll have my morning prayers at the temple." With the clocks inside his head, missing morning prayer was impossible. Tomorrow would possibly require a good nap.

---~---

Indeed, the crack of dawn had Weston already sitting upright and trying to stretch himself awake. It was easy enough to move quietly when the sands under the tent rug did not creak like wooden planks. His desert wraps were left behind along with a division of medical supplies. The portal rod had been traced over the ground with the name of the destination crystal whispered to send Weston on his way in temple robes.

He returned by noon, even though morning prayers never took more than an hour. He had lied down in the Nomad in Cordor at beset by old aquantances. The two hour nap was enough to revive his better senses. Yet it gave the men of the camp a good chuckle when Weston was spotted with his full helm on. They didn't of course recognize it was him right away, and thought some hapless desert fool had spotted the camp as a chance for refuge from the heat while being much overdressed.

"Get that man some water, throw him in a stream," laughed one of the children, causing others to laugh as well in their games.

Edonil was just as happy to rest at mid noon, not needing as much sleep. Seems many do take one at the peek hot hours to just lay down and relax. The childrens laughter a woken her from her slumber. She felt around, not feeling Weston. She sat up and prepared a small light meal of breads, dates and thin goats cheese.

As someone opened their tent, Edonil looks up "afternoon, care for some refreshments?" a woman smiles to Edonil "No thank you, but we have some guest in heavy robes and a cooking pot on his head" Edonil stops thinking a moment "What are the colors?" Woman looks out then back again to Edonil "Mostly red with white" Edonil grins "That would be my husband coming back from his prayers. The cooking pot is a helm for protecting his head."

The woman "tu tu tu, we need to see to his head then we do not need a husband with a cooked brain" Edonil smirks, thinking of all those of the Tempus in full armor trying to march in this heat and how they will need to learn to adapt. "Agreed, perhaps we can make something that is fitting for both sides"

As Weston comes closer after all the teasing, the woman steps out and bows to him before shaking her head wondering off. "Come in, husband have a light meal" He would see that Edonil its just laying there on a few pillow with not much on for the imagination. "You might want to remove your helm. Have some news for you when your ready"

Weston hardly looks at anyone as he passes into the camp and doing his better to ignore their commentary. The expense to their jesting for a helm was well worth being a point of joke to why he did have the helm still on.

He nods at the woman if slightly and makes sure the tent flap is closed well to minimize the slit that would let any curious peek in.

"Better the helm than them seeing," he muttered. Weston moved around Edonil to find where the turban cloth was. He set the helm aside only once he was ready to be wrapping his head up. The robes of his temple did not cause him as much trouble with the heat as the helmet did. His cheeks and brow were certainly reddish.

She would be able to tell as he huffed a little sitting down the spot next, like seating around a table might. He fidgeted with the head wraps until satistified it was covering his scalp entirely. He picked up a date and toyed with it it in his hands. "News?"

She reachs to him, finding his leg and rubs it a few times. "Apparently, there been gossip going on in the cities. A few other smaller travellers came to this spot. Which is only here for a two day rest. There been a call of the old ones by someone. Signed with a snake at the bottom, an old symbol of Set." she moves up to lay her head on his leg now.

"Set is known as the Father of Jackals by these people. However, is also known for loyalty to one comrades. Another is the Defiler of the Dead, greedy and known for the activities of thieves, assassins, and other evil beings. So we need to watch out for snakes and jackels. Someone is trying to drive out the non-Khem dieties." She sits up again and digs into her bag, pulling out a small bag of date fruit. "I nearly forgotten theses, the children picked them for us this morning." as she sits them down.

"So hot at midday, need to open the flap of the tent soon for air. it is recommended at midday for the resting period. How did the visit go back at the temple?" She lays back down next to him. He would notice her skin a tinge more purplish around her eyes like a mask and her hands as if gloves, sun baked. "Really tired today.. guess we did travel far last evening to get here." She yawns, just using his leg like a pillow.

"Heh," Weston spun the date between his hands for a llittle longer as Edonil spoke and dropped it back into the small pile of food not being interested in eating.

"I may know one of those followers, if not of Set, one of those who are working to drive out the intrusion of the Kelemvores. They had spoken quite harshly." Weston rubs his hand over Edonil's hair and looks at the sink coloration change near her eyes. "As it stands to my impression, perhaps you've noticed it, but I am keeping subtle to avoid speaking of my godess here."

Weston grumbles softly and picks at the turban hiding his scalp. At a mix of a whispering and quiet complaint, he mentions "...bad prank, shaved me bald while I needed to nap..." His eyes narror at the tent flap feeling rather humiliated of the fact his hair is shaved completely off. The ponytail that was forming, the messy parting of hair he usually had, gone to baldness; even if it was temporary.

"I met a War Knight. Shae, I believe she said her name was. Sounded like you two have met before when I gave your name. And I asked about Crunch in joking if he still challenges everyone who seeks to join. I do not remember being told before that Crunch has retired." Weston watches for Edonil's reaction, shifting to tie back the tent flap for some air circulation as long as his head is covered from being seen. "You've not mentioned your War Knight family for a while... have you lost contact with them?"

He moves back to the middle of the tent after grabbing the flask of water giving it a small shake, half full, and tapping it to Edonil's hand. He would be available as a pillow again.

Edonil moved away so he can readjust his position. She thought back to her family. "I was asked to keep quiet about Crunch retiring from being the Warlord. Seems its out now if Shae said something now." her eyes saddeen, "Many of the family have faded and moved on, perhaps the time of peace moved many away. Those of Tempus are not ones to settle down and be patient during peace times. Wars come and they go, only to rise again. That is the cycle of humaniods to war among eachother. History shows such. Peace can last long or a short period. I am a warsong, I can survive in both periods. As now, in peace times, sing the songs of glory past, the heroes, the enemies, the keeping of morale. Times of war, be beside my family, singing still of morale of battle hymns."

She drinks a bit of the water and holds it out for him, "What is this about being bald? Who would do such a thing? Nobody here would dare for it is a sign of pride in having a long lock of hair" She curious goes out to feel his shoulder and moves up his neck to feel nothing, quickly pulling back her hand covering her mouth before speaking, "Oh my word, who does this?" her white eyes open wide in the shock that it was true.

"I would have expected it to trouble you enough you'd want to talk about it anyways as the War Knights change with the time. You must be growing," Weston takes the water canteen and caps it again. "I was rather stunned to hear that. It will be hard to challenge Crunch one day. I figured being able to stand up to a few blows from him as my goal in self-defence training."

Weston tensed as Edonil's hand traces up his neck, it would be clear. And indeed, there is quite nothing save odd patches of hairs trying to grow back (although quite hidden under the turban). "I don't know," Weston does sound bitter. "I met Vesad in Cordor, we talked a while and with Nik'ta as well even though she's left Salandra's temple. We went inside to have tea when it began to rain; the sleep deprivation caught up to me, and they both nudged me until I went to get a nap. I woke up bald with my hair on my chest. Like some Abyssal joke." His jaw clacks shut from trying to keep his voice down. Last intent he has is to look like a bald fool to the people in the area. "Obviously why I came wearing a tin-can on my head."

Weston flopped back on the rugs to stare at the top of the tent not minding that he still wore his temple robes. It made a large red blotch against all the brown and beige shades of color, some blue with a detailed rug, and the fading purple of the sun-baked tent.

She smiles and leans over him with a soft kiss to his chin then another up to his lips, leaning up over him with her smile, "Its alright. Nik'ta.. I have meet her once? She was of higher rank than you? So many you know." soft shrug then kiss him again, "Vesad, how is he doing? He better now?" She was enjoying the soft pecking of kisses til she went down again for a longer soft kiss, distracting herself and him of the current affairs...

"You may have met Nik'ta. She was almost a templar acolyte." Weston kissed Edonil back each time she attacks his lips but only when. "And Vesad seems to be doing well on his own, to the best I know. We've had sparse contact."

He takes up his arm around Edonil trying to settle her down a bit, his mood not quite there yet. Her efforts to comfort him were not entirely without merit. He does bring his head up from the rug and touches his nose to the tip of her own. "Have you thought about it, what it means that we are married by these customs?"

He was reasonably clueless to any elven tradition Edonil may know about in what marriage rituals were supposed to be of. And the nomadic ways were perhaps not quite like that of a city's for the human races. Still, Weston considered it something different now for them even though their lives had not changed.

"I suppose I'm getting at traditions. Edonil Carter," he makes a half-chuckle. "Or, it would be with human marriage. That you would take my last name."

He slids his free arm up along his chest and braces on a folded elbow to prop up a little. "Or that, normally, there is a celebration to it all. Just besides the recognition of a union, but a gather of everyone who's family and friends and such. We could use a good excuse to hold a celebration, yeah? Humans love weddings. Men tend to go for the beer and women always cry at eachother." Weston's last comment is hardly said with a straight face making fun of the truth.

Her face becomes puzzle looking in expression. "Women cry? That seems silly for it is to be happy no?" pauses a moment, "Edonil Carter, would be only time having a longer name. I know Mother had one but she exiled and detached herself completely from the underdark. Father never mentioned a last name."

She frowns and move to hold him as saddness over comes her, "My family is gone.. I am not sure even many are around to come to such an event." leans back and holds his face with both hands, "I would love to be apart of you, in tradition that you feel is right. I do hope that your sister and her family can be there too." She lean forward and kiss him again, before falling on her back with a soft laugh.

"Means a trip back to Cordor or your temple for this?" looking up to where his face would be, "I have many interesting songs to sing. I remember Jud, silencing anyone around so I can sing my songs." soft smile "Even a few others, then you have some that just call me names." pauses as her expression soften "There is much I would do for you. West'on Carter, husband of the sands and healer of Salandra"

"That's the joke of it, women cry being too happy," Weston nods softly and returns Edonil's kiss.

"I think the idea should be to have as many of anyone we can. Of course with all the family we can find, and with friends, but even welcome to strangers too." He props himself on an elbow giving Edonil's belly a pat with his other hand. "Well all of the War Knights are somehow part of your family, are they not?" He traced a dented circle over her skin with the tips of his fingers, more the shape of a heart. "I'm thinking about how you did your party to celebrate being of age. You sent invitations for anyone to see, you must have met a hundred strangers? And look what came of it. On a miracle's whim I met you. We might be privelidged to meet more new friends."

"I know time is showing to pull our families sparse, I'm not sure how my sister is doing these days. I think her love of exploration may just have taken her beyond the islands with her family." Weston kisses Edonil first this time. "We should do it, have a party to celebrate our being wed; even if it by these different customs, we still are. We'll find a good spot, you'll get to sing all you could want even. Perhaps not Cordor, though." Weston recalled a letter he had sent off and small plans of his he'd not shared yet that could cause him some trouble.

"If we plan far enough ahead, we could gather people at the stage in Khem, or perhaps if I spoke with Yaston about the Kohligen Keep...they have used it for a ball once before, it is vast but would carry your voice so well. And then not a concern of weather. Someplace...but I doubt Cordor will work..."

She felt the warmth of his hand on her and the impression made, which brought a heart warming smile. Even at times, when he loves to rest his hand there often, she always gets the warm feeling he is thinking of their future and the possible of one more. ~One plus one equal three or more~ She thought when it comes to loved ones.

She frowned, moving her head gaze up to him, when he mentioned Kohligen Keep, "Weston, you forget? That city does not allow drow. Oddly enough, I do not wish us to be bais on racial differences. Both our beliefs are against that. Even if some are vile in nature, should not judge them all as one." She pauses, "Cordor festival grounds or Khem stage, we can fund the whole wedding, if I leave out my bowl for denotation that would help us. Mother.." she gulps, "She helped me do the signs and ran to put them all up for me. It would be up too you this time in placing them up."

Then it finally hit her, the importance of this to Weston, the meaning of it. She moved his one hand off her belly to her side and pulls him into an embracing hug. Her head into the corner of his neck and shoulder being smaller than him, muffles as she speaks, "Silly, you will never lose me. We are just to good to eachother. I know I been out here in the sands hiding it seems, but I am learning about a whole new kind of people and how they live. I always been since we came together finally one night yours. If it was not meant to be, then that time of you gone, I would have wondered off. You never have to fear that from me. My heart is your heart, together we are one. I love you, Weston Carter, my Linoin'on."

She nuzzles his neck as time of the high sun moves along in the heat of the day. There is never much movement in a camp at this time, yet soon there is as some of the women are the first to liven up the camp. It has always been intriging how the balance of both sexes in survival of the sands is needed, orderly but ready for any chaos. Then a scream came from one of the scouts that sit and watch "STORM! STORM!" Quickly there as a scurry as men moved and yelled "Make sure all the tents spikes are down tight! Get the animal inside! MOVE MOVE MOVE"

Edonils eyes are wide with the yelling and looks up to Weston, "We must do as they say! They mean a sandstorm!" She quickly breaks from him to grab a robe and the tent mallet..

-

Weston let the heat push him into being lazy as the day was allowed to roll on. He made sure to enjoy the time being in bliss of deliberate ignorance of the tasks that all still were before him. Soon he knew he'd need to sit down and arrange himself a proper sense of scedule.

It was easy to tell that Edonil winced when she mentioned her mother. It didn't afflict Weston in the same way being he'd always grown without parents. He could only marginally understand how it must have hurt for Edonil. So he said what seemed the best reply in any sad situation, "I'm sorry."

Edonil shifted and Weston made it easy for her to direct him to the hugging. "It's not a concern of losing you. I just learned different expectations, I guess. Besides, it would be a fun way to share the news."He tilted his head and nipped her neck. "Er'thurkiitu. Ssinssrigg dos." His pronounciation wasn't exactly good yet, but he thought he remembered the words well enough that Edonil would understand.

"STORM!"

Weston couldn't deny the fact the call confused him. The laying of many voices talking rapidly to organize didn't help much either. For never having experienced a sandstorm, see one or the aftermath, there was still two things Weston could understand: Edonil comprehended the situation and his training was to follow the orders and figure out events later.

He took the mallet that Edonil offered over so she could get herself covered. Looking around outside wasn't really possible, priority was literally what he could hear for orders to make sure the tent was down securely. The nomads didn't give a sense of panic, they lived in these conditions, and that made air about the situation seem lesser. Had Weston the time to observe, he would have been impressed by the rapid response in the camp coupled with methodic motions to get ready wasting time.

Or had he the chance to notice, he would have been awe-struck by the half-mile high wall of dust rolling along. His first notice of the storm was when his eyes could tell the sunlight went dim. He doubled-back into the tent and tied the cord that held the tent flaps shut. It took just a little more than six minutes for the storm to be over the camp, which was plenty of time for the camp to look deserted.

Inside the tent was a different experience. It didn't sound like rain on the roof or a door being pounded. Yet it was as rapid as raindrops and loud as a heavy fist. The thousands of dust particales buffeting the tent created a fearsome noise that compounded with the felt winds that carried them. The tent stayed down, but still air seeped through the flaps and forced itself under an edge with all the pressure. Weston's instict put his back towards the direction of the winds and sat there with Edonil into his arms, he hadn't gotten a chance to put something over his mouth or eyes for the traces of dust that was being carried into their simple mobile home.

The entire thing, Weston knew it down to a millisecond, had passed after ten minutes. Or at least the stronger winds had since much of the kicked up sands now had to begin their slowfall to the desert floor again. The air not only felt dry, but it had become very thick. He doubted he was the only left with a dry coughing once things were calm enough to begin thinking again.

"Edonil?" It was all the questions in one, starting with how she was doing. Had she been through a storm when he was away?

((I don't know really anything about Sandstorms, let alone ever seen one. I'm guessing on times 'ere >.> ))

Edonil just held Weston there, while the sandstorm rushing by. The noise of the wind was deafening to her sensative ears, thus truly everything to her was blinding. The snearness of nothing in her own percepation scared her more than anything. A fear that kept to herself.. only thing keeping her sane at the moment is Weston warmth. Knowning he is here with her.

Time creeps along, a moment to some but to her seemed longer. The air so dry from some of the sand seeping inside. She wanted to speak but the words could not come out as her spoken instead ~Weston.. its too much. I..~ the dulling of her senses overwhelmed her as she faints into him.

"Edonil?" It was all the questions in one, starting with how she was doing. Had she been through a storm when he was away?

Finding her light frame on him heavier than normal as he begins to shake her awake. It taking the ticking of minutes passing by then a sudden inhale of breath.. dry and gritty as it goes. She starts coughing from it as one hand clutchs on him.

Weston kept his arm around Edonil's limp form as he does his best to pull across the rug and grab around for the water canteen. Still half full, thankfully, just needing a good dusting off. He was not so directly trying to shake Edonil, he knew his medical, she wasn't more than having blacked out. Although it was a terrible thought to consider that the storm had such an impact over his wife. He questioned in his mind if she had fainted to a fear of what was happening.

He felt her hand grab his robe harshly and dropped the canteen on his lap from trying to brush the dust off from the cap. "Easy, easy," his words were probably too soft with the impact of the sound to Edonil's ears. He spoke carefully trying to keep down how dry he made his own throat. His body pivoted to sit like a leaning post for Edonil. He fussed with the canteen again, having to be content it was mostly clear of sand at the mouth peice now once uncorked. He wet his sleeve near the hand and brushed dust off from his face so he could see and breath slightly better; once so, he did the same for Edonil being able to open his eyes again.

"Drink what you can, breathe slowly." Weston directed Edonil to hold the canteen with two hands. It would be fine if she could drink, sand could pass through the body if causing a slight stomache upset. Dust in the air and lungs would hopefully work itself out. Once sure his loved one managed to drink at least a little, he dismantled a medical kit from his bag reweaving a few of the bandages into a crude facemask. He wasn't sure where they'd let their scarfs get to for covering the face, more than likely covered in sand as well now. Creating one facemask to each of them, his eyes tried looking at the flap of the tent, but there was nothing to see short of a dusty opaque color. He'd go take a look at the camp after he got Edonil and himself more relaxed.

"Try to drink a little more, there's not shortage of water. Let it wash your throat."

Coughing slowly subsided with the short sips of the dry air, she only nodded. As he looked out the tent cracks most of small oasis was covered in sand, tents half buried. Dust still filling the air as most of the major sandstorm has past. Out of the big tent movement stirs, few men out with covered faces. Hand gestures and signals moving rapidly as they scurry along, each one with something of large bowl or shovel.

One of the men heading to their tent, notices Weston peeking out and nods as then turns away to another area and kneels to moving sand away. As Weston recalls there was another of the smaller tents there they use for storing supplies.

Then a sudden surprise as one area of sand just jumps up suddenly with aweful sound, shudders and shaking off the sand. A soldier first reaction would to be to attack what it was but the people he sees are not doing a thing but digging. Soon, would it was one of the mounts of camels as two other people come busting out the sand that were next to it.

Survivors are moving, just as the same honking noise of a cry right next to their own moves around, snorts and spits in Weston direction of the tent he was peeking from, to his luck misses him. Edonil pats Weston on the back, handing him the canteen and a spade shovel. "Follow your instincts, let faith guide you. I will be alright now that I can hear again." as she whispers. "I thought storms like these only happen in the deeper parts. Something must be off, I will clean up here and pack my love" She nearly pushed out of the tent so she can work.

---

Edonil kept busy while he was outside, cleaning off everything before she can pack into there bags. Stopping to sip every once in awhile for wetting her throat, last thing she needs is to lose her singing voice. One thing she has pride of being one to hit all octaves of the tenor vocals. ~I must be a fool, an elven body is not meant for the desert climate. I do love the customs here, simple, survival, the beauty they have in spirit. Weston love forgive my youthful flight of fantasy on this pursuit but not willing to give in so soon. Especially, after a scout came before you came back this afternoon. I didn't want to tell you.~ She stops and closes her eyes feeling a knot in her stomach.

~Those that seek your downfall are in nearest city. Ones that took my uncle away, them that want to change the way the people are in the sands by their blind faith. They are more blind than I am, those Kellies.~ she leans forward holding her stomach ~what is wrong with my belly? too much sand.. can not be child, for that tea medicine that Weston gives me every morning afterwords.~ The pain ebbs off as she finishes up most of all the packing, except the rug and the tent itself.

-

Weston took a pathetic sip from the canteen when it was put back in his hand, he was unaware of his progressing dehydration still. Besides the smell of camel spit was rather repugnant and bothering his senses enough to disrupt his thoughtfulness.

It was a heck of a sight, once he had the small spade in hand. The camp being buried enough that the tents looked like they should be their own dunes were it not their irregular shapes. And the jumping up of the few caught outside who ducked under whatever cloth they could get ahold of. A tap to a mound of sand and somebody sat up with a push and a rush of harsh breath. The air was saturated with the dust particles making sight quite limited.

He had thought to look at the oasis, why he wasn't sure, but it was clear what hinted in his perifial vision to take a glance. There wasn't an oasis anymore, but a thick dark mud hole. Water would be difficult to siphon out of it if any was needed. He moved among the other men, bidding them to "bring me your canteens and water skins that need filled." He dragged a rought circle in the sand just to make himself some space as any containers were grabbed. Meanwhile he helped with the digging away of sand where pointed to do so.

The few ready to trust Weston had something in mind of good use with their water flasks gathered by the circle a little confused. It was women whom been instructed to gather the canteens. Weston set the spade aside and used the circle just as a general spot, it having no significance other than marking where to have the few stand around him to make the prayer easier. "Uncork the flasks and cover them with your hands so they don't break." He got a few odd looks, but their ways were simple enough that Weston would be run off if he was going to do anything stupid. He wasn't, however, as he recited a prayer for water. It was one of the most simple of cantrips for the clerical, and it was learned by Salandra's healers to ensure they could always have clean water for use no matter their situation. The creation of water suddenly was difficult to control the exact amount, Weston touching a flask to denote where the water to fill would cause it to swell full and pour over, through the fingers holding it from sand getting inside from the thick air. Seeing what he was doing, a few more quickly ran to get even partially emptied containers. Nobody knew quite how long it would take the sandy air to clear, expecially with the clam that followed the gale of wind that first brought it.

--o--

"Knock knock," his voice said in slight effort to be humorous, but a very dry joke, as he went to join Edonil again. "I am not sure if the camp is moving, or if they are simply regathering themselves. Priority was getting everyone accounted for and the tents dug out. We'll find out soon enough what is going to happen. Which, looks like you're ready to move on?"

Weston patted at his robe in a futile effort to return some of the reddish color from the brown dirt stuck into it. "Well...now I feel bad what I want to tell you. With this little fiasco, it might sound like bad news." He brushed his hand barely over Edonil's long hair feeling all the gritty sand in that too. He could only imagine how bad his own head could have been were he not recently made (still to his upset) into a baldy. "Just another thing that is going to happen in Cordor, that I'm going to be in the middle of..." his skin was getting warm enough Edonil would be able to feel it like he had a fever settling in. Although he'd not been coughing earlier, he did so now passing it off as sand in his own respitory catching up to him.

"Camp is moving far-landers!"

When Weston was brushing her hair she holding still, something resting her in arms. She smiled looking where his face would be. Then the call of moving on. It was then a swall an infant squirms in her arms. She looks up to Weston with a worried look. "A woman came in saying protect this little and left. There was none here in the camp that was with child Weston."

She pulls the vail off the infant face. Fair of skin, black hair and deep set blue eyes of a newborn. "Umm Weston.. What should I do? What should we do?" She picks up the little and covers the vail again. "What woman would bring an infant to us outlanders or even birth of one in the middle of a storm, then abandon it?" She stands up in the tent, "Should we tell the others? I do not know the customs they have for orphan. What if they view the infant as some sort of omen.. not like we need another one."

She reaches out one hand to touch Weston's face. Feeling the caked sand from being outside and his warmth. "Weston.. you alright? Your awefully heated, your not .. Cordor again in trouble." She looks at him with concern on her face. "Alright lets pack and go together this time. This will okay with you?" faint cry from the bundle, she looks down. "Need to feed this one.. but what and how? I don't know what do on taking care of infants.. not yet at least. Time to learn now I guess"

She looks at Weston, feeling a bit scared for him and this newborn. "Tell them we are heading Djedet or something for more water, we can find them. I am sure we can."

Last edited by Torzeng on Mon, Oct 26 2009, 22:27 PM, edited 1 time in total.

((Sorry the double post, it kept crashing if I tried to put it together. Odd))

Weston didn't catch on that he was staring at the little child Edonil had just showed him. It sent a spark through his thoughts that tripped and stumbled faster than he could keep up with. An array of confusing misconceptions left him in a bit of a daze. Staring at this child Edonil suddenly had like it was dropped from the sky. On her. In the aftermath of a sand storm. To a charcoal skinned woman who was blind for that matter.

"What woman would bring an infant to us outlanders..."

Weston hardly picked up on the words and just muttered, "I don't know." Edonil could have put a dagger to Weston's throat and he'd be more focused than this. The touch of Edonil's hand gave a snap to his system like being pelted with a snowball after stepping out of a warm house.

"Cordor trouble I'm doing fine right now." He shook his head like something would rattle around inside. "The trouble in Cordor, in a moment... "I'm doing fine, just warm from moving about so much." He still felt like his head was thick, too think for him to create a coherent thought.

"Find the woman? We can do that." He kissed Edonil's brow trying to put himself back into feeling like a sentient being and not a large mobile rock. "I replenished their water, we'll simply part ways from the camp."

Food for a newborn? A few months perhaps? Weston looked at Edonil, but no, her body wouldn't know, it hadn't reason to be ready for rearing a new child. "Thin cloth, wrapped over something soft for food. Like a pacifier for now." He said the first thing that can to mind, and it seemed alright, the cloth could be pushed down enough to fit in the mouth and held back from being in danger of chocking, just at the lack of any real ability to give food. They were just not the ones ready for this, Djedet they could definitly get something to work there.

"I'll get the tent up, say a fast farewell, and we'll go."

"Idiot" shot through his mind as it backlogged what he'd been trying to collect together. "I'm a healer, I can conjure foods. This certainly must be an appropriate time, an infant!" "Back a step. Best thin cloth we have- where did my scarf get to, I had left it here. A grape or date, something more with flavor we can crush. A prayer and I can make food just enough to hold the child over. And go from there. Your body wouldn't know what to do, how could it? A child. Now. Of all things." Weston's shock with the situation finally came back out with his words. He was not angry, perhaps upset, but mostly just kicked off his balance beam and trying to get back on.

"Then I'll get the tent up, say a fast farewell, and we'll go. If you don't mind carrying the sand child for now."

She nods to his words. She digs around and pulls out fresh bandage linens and his scarf, "Milk.. we need milk right? Goats milk and yaks are known around here for such. Goat cheeses." She finds the dates and grapes in their supplies and lays them out. "Here West'on what I have"

She ponders on his tone and the situation. Herself just as lost on all of this as him. She don't even know the sex of the infant yet as it was all a shock to her as he came back inside from helping the others. "You just named the child West'on" She smiles "I'nikmaral" as she rolls and then pause and growls in draconic "Inik'kepesk" She grins bigger "I been learning a little, oddly that word is nearly the same in both drow and dragon tongue, elven would be "Malmys, in all three it is sandstorm"

She mainly trying to make the best of the situation that is happening to them in countless of times they come across a challenge in life. She touches her own chest and ponders if she can even be a Mother. She softly sings the child to sleep as they make something for her or him to drink. Now is no time to waste in checking the minor details. The air is still every dust outside, enough it could kill this newborn. She brushed the newborn face, still feeling the stickness of birth on the edges of the swaddle wrappings.

"New life, I never held in my arms before. So soft and gentle" covers the face gently as Weston is done and goes to let the people know, then him busy on the tent disabling it quickly. Once done, he would lead them away a bit before using the portal to where he knew where to go. Right now, even the temple of Salandra would be wise with a newborn to check the health and for them to recollect themselves on what to do next.

"New life.. I'nikmaral Carter. Humm Inik'kepesk Carter if a boy then.. " she whispers hold the infant close to her as they move along. "Child of the sandstorm, coming to us in mystery, a destiny, a fate of the unknown future. Shall teach you all that you wish to know of our world and the people and legends they have." as Weston opens the portal for them to go through.

Weston picked out a few of the dates and grapes, and in short order he find means to make-do with something of for the child to consume. Weston didn't pause as Edonil pointed out he had called a name with "sand child". But the thought still drive into his mind.

Saying goodbye to the camp was largly underplayed. Weston told the first man he knew was often nearer or speaking with Akehm, and simply asked the message passed along. He didn't leave much room for reaction nor was he in a mindset to care.

Had he named the child? Or more-so, had he done it inentionally? Weston's eyes would have carried a glazed appearance were it not for the sand laced air irritating them and causing him to squint.

Weston did as they first planned to do, and his portal moved them safely to Djedet, just outside the gate wall. He paid the advanced on a place offering rentable space just so there was a shelter to sit in for a moment. His eyes had scanned the people whom lived in the town so well known for its bazaar and exotic trades. He wondered just how he should go about if they were going to seek the woman who'd brought the sand child to Edonil.

He looked at Edonil, across the vacant room they were borrowing now, and at the door. He hung his head down hearing Edonil's words about a name, as a Carter, repeating in his mind. He had spent the last couple of minutes in traveling being very silent.

"You are confusing my emotions, my love." He still watched the floor. Tomorrow he was to meet with a councilor in Cordor. What was to be done, it was a strange choice set in front of them. "A Carter...not a Carter..." Weston glanced up to Edonil's face, wondering if it even made sense to her, or if the doubt he felt in his confusion was strong in his voice. They had not been planning to be as parents, not yet, but now they could be, with a child not quite their own. And Weston was as excited for the possibility as daunted by it. A Carter not quite a Carter.

He moved close enough to look at the infantile face of fair skin, hair of glossy black, and eyes of clear blue. "I'm going to... go see if I can learn anything." A bazaar such as this town had could carry rumors faster than the wind. "Just... in case we need to know?" Weston was not sure himself now what kind of intent he would have, say he even found the stranger. He guided Edonil around the single open area with a bed, cushions, stove, and all the such that the houses were known for being with for renters.

His hand touched Edonil's and slid from it over to the brow of the small child. And he had to turn himself away for the door to see what he could learn, just... in case?

Once around the small home to know where everything is, she picks up a good size bucket and some water from the pump in there. All the while still holding the infant in balance. She sits down and wraps the infant and slowly baths.

Weston clear note right away, that it is newborn with the cord of life still fresh and its a girl. The bathing reveals fair skin, which is rare for the region and highly respected. Edonil bumps the cord and gets a perplex look on her face. "Weston.. What is this on the baby's belly?" Weston knows its just the birth cord and needs to be taken care of in cutting and having it healed down.

The baby starts to wiggle and wail in crying to movement of the cord, a bath and just not cuddled up. Worse came, as Edonil reaction to that as well, as she covers her mouth in horror and shock, then drops her hand in slight panic. "I hurt the baby! Weston! what .. What am I do?! If I hold her like that it would crush whatever that is! Is it some snake?" she feels around as the infant just gives a screaming cry.

Realizing is they are still dirty too. She scrambles undress and washes. The infant just wailing as Weston tends to her as apart of his training. He is done and bundled up in new dressings and Weston holding the child, she starts to calm down and lull back to sleep. Edonil, collaspes to the floor looking up confused.

"I am going to be in trouble aren't I in being a Mother? I do not know what to do with infants.. older children I think I can manage..." she gulps, knowing her blindness, Weston has business coming the next day. "Love, think I need to call upon help with this. Maybe my Aunt who had children recently?" She sighs.

"I am so sorry, love. All this seem unfair and confusing too. I don't even know why the woman came to us. We are strangers here still, even if are trying to learn their way of living. I mean there was plenty of other women that more capable than me." she looks down to her hands "I am useless as a wife. Not a great cook, either. I am blind, only seeing by my touch and hearing. I must be kidding myself to even think we can parents."
...

Weston didn't really make it out the door. His body was turned to do so, but he was still needed to get themselves in order enough that the infant could be safe and Edonil settled down from her anxiety. It was easier for him to keep his head straight once Edonil panicked. It was knowing he had to keep a level head for somebody else that encouraged his ability to focus.

"Imbillical cord," Weston's answer came too slowly as the infant plodded into Edonil's lap. He reached over and removed the small girl from Edonil's care for the time being. Altough he was stunned that the infant was indeed a very newborn, but how and why it wasn't with a mother- things that were eerie to consider that such a darkness existed in people to simply leave a child of any age; behind.

He accordingly tied, cut, and cleansed the infant's belly button. He'd dilevered two children, once of Elle's, once of his Sister's. This was simple to him although he had to put a little extra care to see if anything went wrong, so much could go wrong before a new life was well and stable. He supports the little girl's head and rocks on his feet until she has calmed down. Once so, it seemed Edonil finally let herself relax again as well.

"What would be best first is to find a wetnurse to feed I'nikmaral." He caught himself after he said the name, but let it slide. He put his arm on Edonil's opposite shoulder and puller her into leaning upon him. As soon as Edonil did, Weston guided her on more properly holding the newborn. "Hand here, cradled over your arm, always supporting the head. Just like that."

"It's not that we can't be parents Edonil. Or you a mother, and a good mother. It's that we need to plan for being parents. I know, I want to have a family, but when the time is right."

He traced the shape of Edonil's ear with a fingertip. "You are a wife because you are the one I love. And I know I want to one-day rear a child with you as our own. It may just be a more difficult task for us, that is all."

The girl wriggled, Weston moving his hands back up under Edonil's so she wouldn't accidentally move the wrong way. "Let's just try to relax and in an hour we'll find a wetnurse."

Edonil listened to Weston confidence of her. She relaxed and holds the infant the right way in craddling. "I heard many stories that having children is never planned. I guess this holds true to us. Imbillical cord.. This what they mean in reading 'cord of life'?" She smiles looking down feeling the infant in her hands.

The infant is quite healthy from Weston examination, even her scream was something else. Edonil still there in the buff with Weston, she looks in his direction "I'nikmaral.. you know this is drow name in pronoucing.." The infant nose crinkles when the word of her name, or perhaps it was from Edonil caress the face with a gentle finger.

"She just made a facial expression. I felt it." Edonil smiles, as her eyes soft to half closed. "I'nikmaral" the infant nose crinkles again. "I don't think she likes the name. Malys Carter" a soft smile on the of a curl of the infant "I think she likes that.. She feels beautiful, fragile to me." Edonil young as she is has 'glow' of being a new mother in that moment of time.

Edonil look to the touch of Weston with a profound look, "What is a wet nurse exactly? Did not Aunt Elle have two children not long ago? Maybe she can help us with the feeding and care." Edonil stops in her words with a sudden look of worriedsome "Weston, I just remembered.. the Eternal Order is here aren't they? I want you to be careful and stay looking like a normal resident here. I just hope they are still not after you for being a Salandran in helping anyone with injuries for that is your duty to your faith. Just I am a warsong of Tempus in defending and supporting comrades in battle and in peace."

She then shifts in thoughts, as her mind is still churning from all the turn of events. "I do not even the colors of Malys.. her hair, eyes and skin." sighs, "Not as if it matters since I never seen colors before but helps me envision sometimes. Food, we should be going soon or do you want me to stay here and wait for your return?" she smirks suddenly "I am rambling like an idoit aren't I? No matter love, think we need to get some help from our families and friends for a little bit. On that thought, Malys and I will wait here. We have goats milk for a bit to hold over Malys."

Edonil stop and sniffs suddenly then looks down Malys "Umm, uhh think she just releaved herself. O' my word of the stink" Hold Malys out to Weston with a horrid look on her face. "Uhh.. help?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[[Correction on the elven name. Two ways of being pronouced 'Sandstorm' Malys or 'Sand storm' malmys'.
Those that like to where found this translation here is the link
http://www.coveworld.net/eberron/aerenal_translator.html ]]

Weston wasn't going to deny to himself that he wanted this as much as Edonil did in her being caught up in the moment. The coming of newborns always seemed to change people, for at first. It was very difficult for him to try and think ahead of the fact and contemplate both sides of the scale.

Perhaps it was too late though. Malys Carter. "Malys, Carter."

"I would not wish to ask Elle the burden. Of the last times I've seen her, she's been very busy in needing to keep her own family safe. Besides the time and energy a new child takes. This is going to be a lot of work, but for feeding, it would be best we did find a wet nurse. A woman who's still able to breast feed, for Malys's health."

Weston took Malys when Edonil moved to hand off the little girl. He wanted Edonil to feel more calmed, her blindness was proving a difficulty; something that was not very common. "Malys's hair is black, so it is darker than your skin, but a little shiny. Her skin is said to be fair, she looks more naturally of health than I do. Her eyes are blue, pure blue..." Weston had been changing Malys while he spoke. "She is certainly a human girl. As soon as you feel confident of it, I can go find a wet nurse and better cloth for diapers." This time Weston craddled Malys in his arms. "Her eyes a very blue. They just may stay that way."

Edonil calms down as she listens to Weston with slight nods of acknowledgement. Once the noise of squirming stops, she goes over to their gear and finds her normal adventure gear to dress. Out of the common garb for the area. "Alright I am ready, think we should go soon. I do not care where or how far for one of these wet nurses." she sighs "Would this feeding make children more bondable with Mothers? No that can not be right, for Fathers do not feed and children bond with them."

She holds out her arms to releave Weston of the burden if he wants too. "Pure blue.. so there are many shades in color. She sounds really beautiful as she feels under my fingers. Let us hope we can retain the beauty in personality as she grows as well."

Edonil is quite for awhile as they go out for a bit. "Weston, what is the business you have coming up?"

Weston looked over Edonil as she again seemed to change her mind. First she thought to find the mother, now to not worry that. Then to wait with the child in the rented house, now to go with Weston to find the wetnurse like he first suggested. He felt sorry for her.

"I would expect we can find one here in a busy town such as Djedet. And from a medical standpoint, breastfeeding is simply healthier for the newborn. I've never seen a medical record that can prove anything of breastfeeding corrilating to a mother's relation with a child."

He wrapped up Malys to keep her comfortable and touched her brow. She was passed back to Edonil. "Malys will feel a little warm. She is alright, that is natural still."

They departed the flat for a bit, door locked behind them intent to come back once they found a wetnurse and probably some other supplies, surely cloth for Malys's diapers. Weston kept one hand on Edonil's back at all times and stayed very close to her. They also avoided getting too far in the thick of the bazar crowds. He mostly looked to speak with woman who seemed approachable on such a matter of any known wetnurses in the town.

"My buisness in Cordor," he would answer between brisk conversations with strangers. "Has to do with Mynna. I'm going to meet with one of the councilors. I'm actually hoping to give her a medical check-up, given she's a golem, she could bear nasty illnesses without being afflicted herself. So really, she could be a carrier to make others sick, which troubles me." Weston dropped his voice so only Edonil would hear as he whispered to her ear. "The truth, though, is that my hope is to free Mynna from the prison. Because she's not the criminal, but nobody knows better." He straightened up, "It should go well when I present my concerns to the concilor. I know what I'll need to do and how I'm going to do it."

[(I know that doesn't match other IC on the forums, thus, this is getting all caught up with what has happened...)]

Edonil back stiffens to the whisper, "Please be careful, I .. well guess can say 'we' now would be lost without you. Beyond that I would be heart broken beyond repair" she says softly to him. That information alone she could understand why he kept silent up til now. She wonders, if people understand the things that Weston gets himself into for the care he has for others. That this kind of fighting is what makes him strong within not just without.

They would find a woman who can feed the infant for them, as soon as the woman looks upon the infant she feel in love with her. The old was older who just had been released from another's care. She calls Weston "Master" no matter how much he protests it. The woman also seeing that Edonil is odd colored and blind just looks to Weston with an understanding that he rather have his wife for pleasure than being an oversized woman. Just another thing that Weston has to deal with later on.

The woman takes the infant and the greedy feeding begins. The nurse also said she can cook, clean and more. It seems the woman is nearly selling herself to them. Edonil nodded to Weston that she will be fine. Squeezes his arm that she can get back to the rental home and he should be going back to Cordor.

"Please be safe. This does worry me. Everytime that Cordor is in trouble, your still a hero in your own way. This goes for friends who are in need. Just remember, I need you too, My Linoin'on" She kisses him softly and long as her lips quiver a bit. She pulls back and gently feels his face "May both our faiths watch over you. Call on any War Knight to help you, they will be there with you." She pulls out her staff and leads the nurse and her alone.

Edonil was never good in departures between them, only she must be patient and wait for his return, now she has another to care for.. no two with the nurse, who seemed all to eager to come with them. Which leaves a wonder on what is going on around this small city-town.

Weston heartily did try to protest the "master" comments of the woman hired to help with the health of Malys, and Edonil too it seemed since she was so eager to bring up her skill to cook and willingness to clean. He didn't stop trying to correct to have his name used until he had to depart company.

"I'll make it back, I know I'll be able to make it back regardless. I've got you to make it back to. That can always carry me through." Weston returned Edonil's kiss with the embrace. "Goodman Yaston from Kohligen knows a bit of my intent. I'll have help if I find to need it."

The departure was hard. Weston remembered that it was actions of his, like this, so sudden and risky, that had harmed past relationships and friendships. That was the behavior of a Carter, though. It was something he'd learned ran in the blood when he met his sister. A Carter lets nobody stop them, and sometimes that isn't easy. Weston set off for his meeting...

--o--

Day one.

--o--

Day two. Edonil felt a soft message play in her mind, that voice of Weston's so far away, that he was in Cordor and waiting an event.

--o--

Day three.

--o--

Day four. Weston knocked on the rented house door for he had left the keys with Edonil and the wetnurse. He was greeted by the woman who shushed him softly for Edonil lay asleep on the cushions with Malys lightly in her arms. "She sleep so still, safe for the child." Weston nodded to her and let down his bag as the door was closed for him.

He crossed the room to wash sand from his hands and scrub his face a little. A change of clothes so he would not be too warm as he had traveled in his jacket with the magical protections in case of bandits. His hair was still short, hardly around two inches, but tolerable enough for him now.

"Tea for the Master?" "Weston, please," "Master Weston, tea then?" Weston frowned but agreed. He sat down on some space of the cushions Edonil was sleeping on. He brushed his hand over her brow to wake her up gently having tried hard to stay quiet from distrubing the two sleepers.

"I never made it to Mynna...but... I think we will be welcome in Cordor for a long time now." He mentioned this as Edonil still roused awake, greeting her after she was clearly awoken, "I'm home, my Edonil."

Edonil been quite busy with an infant even while the feeding time was going on she was working on her music. As the days drifted by she kept an ear open on the market time with the nurse for any news of Cordor and other affairs going on as well.

When she heard his voice she was in her dreamstate and responsed with a whisper, "Linoin'on? I worried for you that you might be arrested." Then his voice more solid in the mention of Mynna, her eyes blammed open and turned her head, "Your home" she smiles sweetly up to him with a breath of relief.

She reaches out her hand to find his in holding, squeezing. "I was starting to worry a bit without any news" She shifts Malys a little so she can turn up to Weston better. Edonil face still young with life as her hair is flowing around her, seems to be longer now that he finally has time to take in the view without it being hidden or bound up. Malys sleeping next to her seems a happy innocent life in her sleep.

"Please tell me all that is going on? I am sure there is much happening in Cordor. Always seems to be busy compared to out here." She smiles as she bring up his hand to kiss his knuckles. "Before you ask, we are fine. Heard that the Kellies are in Nes'ek not here. Market is health with foods, the nurse been quite helpful. Oh good cook, spicy too.. so your warned now. Malys, well she quite a greedy gut on feeding so I am guessing that is a good thing. Another about her, is that nobody has records of anyone woman leaving or abandoning children unless they can not feed them. Somehow I do not think this was the case. I am researching, but there is little written information here." she sighs, but her white gaze looks up to where his face should be. "I am happy your back, my love"

Weston scooted himself so Edonil could prop up against him. Tea was put down on the little center table for the two, Weston nodded to the woman to thank her.

"I never made it to trying to rescue Mynna as I was intent to do. It seems she isn't even in Cordor's prison, which is suspicious. But, during the talks with the coucilor, I mentioned that man Johnathin Leohnard; he was the councilor who was helping us save Cordor." He threaded the fingers of his free hand through Edonil's unbraided hair. "I had tried to save his life once before, to no avail, because the prayers require one to know the time of death. But the guardman at the meetings told me the correct time of death. It completely distracted all things from trying to get to Mynna."

Weston had to take his hand free so he could try his tea. Even that seemed to have been spiced, just like Edonil had warned, although it was more of aromatic spices than strong drinking one. He coughed softly as it caught in his throat. Malys groaned with her tiny voice at Weston not wanting to be woken up for his noises. He paused his storytelling to let Malys get settled down again.

"Johnathin Leohnard is something of a hero to Cordor's people, he was. His death actually was like matyrdom, the people were still inspired. Yet I've known that Johnathin would come back, if only he had the opportunty. And I gave him one. With the help of the citizens who still believed in the man, Johnathin Leohnard lives once more. The people of Cordor will probably be celebrating through the week. Some of my friends were smiling again. We are all so glad to have him back with us. I performed the ritual to ressurrect Cordor's hero."

Weston hugged Edonil tightly, as if she couldn't comprehend already how good of news this was. "Oh dear, oh dear," he laughed softly again waking up Malys. This time he gently reached to take the little girl and hugged her too. "She'll not unterstand this for years, and even then, she'll never have to fear some of the things we have." It was somewhere in how his voice carried that Weston confirmed the silent agreement that they would be keeping Malys as their own.

"I am glad you both have been safe and well. Soon, very soon, there won't be all this comotion and this insanity. Soon the world will get to rest for a while. Very soon. How have these last four days been for you, and the little one?"

Edonil listened to his voice and his words carefully. "You brought him back.. You came a long way in your teachings, My Love. Even Mynna be happy for this but I recall there is much more to be done in hers and the other cause, if I recall." She hears the cheers in his voice as he plays with their daughter a bit as she awakes and smiles.

"She been a handful, I understand now what they mean now in the saying the smaller they are the more your exhausted. She loves to hear my voice and Dalha our nurse says the tricks I do with my fingers in song. The little magics basically, she calls Malys a little Isis at times in beauty.. whispering to her as if I can not hear her." She looks up as the Dalha is still out of the home on the town for shopping for awhile with a sigh.

"Dalha is a good woman but has her quirks. I asked to have a wall built for a more private room for us here its almost done, since I found that her snoring is what gotten her fired from her last job and I can see why.." she giggles and then laughs hard holding her sides. "West'on Love.. its so loud.. If it wasn't for Malys exhausting me during the hot noon when we both nap together we would not sleep at all!" She catches her breath and leans over to kiss him soundly.

"Miss you madly however! Need to tell me more about what happened while you were away. Plus, when are we going to make these plans for having this ceramony for marriage? Will Malys be in it? How are they done what religion and.. and I have so many more questions that I thought of while you away! To much time to think beyond singing away lulluby's for this little one!" reaches down the length of Weston's arm to Malys tummy and tickles her sides that a small smile curls on her natural rouge lips.

~

Weston looked about where Edonil meant that the openly connected rooms were being slightly altered, the adobe clay being worked onto one of the decorative fences to create more of a barrier to, in all hopes it seemed, block much of the noise carrying around. It would make the home appear smaller but for Edonil's needs, more practical.

"It was nothing easy, but I don't take the creadit strongly. I would never have succeeded without the people of Cordor who came as well and stood unified. They eased much of the strain. Johnathin walking again, I look forward to the chance when he's recovered to speak with him again."

He returned Edonil's kiss with enjoyment to have lover's touch again. "We need Dalha, for Malys's health until she doesn't need to breastfeed. And by then I can be around more, as things are going at least." Weston shifted how he held Malys so it was easier for Edonil to tickle the small girl.

"Knowing that Cordor will welcome us so? I say we use the festival grounds as with it's popularity already and welcoming to everyone. We can make it a celebration, and yes, with Malys to share out little adopted girl. And give you a chance to sing as much as you want. Did you want it to be a full ceremony? I would say we do it by witness of both Salandra and Tempus; that is how I've performed weddings for others when I was the cleric to annouce it. And by witness of everyone that comes of course. I think we need to wait a week still, a bit longer so I can make posters to put around and let people really know. I would hope a lot of our friends and extended family could make it.

So what are all your questions?" Weston passed Malys back and pulled Edonil into his lap so it was one holding the other. Expecially when Malys got a hold on Weston's finger and reflexively refused to let go with the surprising strength of grip such a small body could have. They discussed their plans, at least through what Weston would sit down later to start scribing out for posters to make their announcement.

--o-- (to make things work time-line)

A few days were allowed to pass. Weston slipping off as always in the early dawn of the morning to chase the sun back to Salandra's temple so he could perform his prayers at dawn for strength through the day. It was so routine to him that he had not yet given much consideration to the fact he need not really do it at the temple each day, so long as his prayers were true. And it also gave him his chance to pass through Cordor, greet faces, try to keep an eye open for anyone who would ask his healing. He would be back home quickly though, usually just near noon and get the rest of the evenings and night with his family.

He returned home a little later one day, as planned for, since he needed to gather more of Chinchora bark across in Khalem. He opened the door to the home, part theirs', part still the sense it was just being rented. He was greeted by the smell of a Malys needing to get her diaper changed.

"Whew... What do we feed her again?" he tried making the joke, but his voice came across to monotonous. Trying to be a good husband, he offered to do the change, but Dalha was very insistent she it being paid for the task. Weston had started agreeing with Edonil that Dahla made sure to work a little harder with her... quirks. He did not have the heart to consider replacing her, she made a very honest effort.

"So... how would you feel if we needed to live like the nomads for a while again?" Weston put his hand on Edonil's elbow gently to speak aside quietly. He didn't want Dahla hearing until they had a notion of what to do. "I ran across Sharina, the 'witch' sounds to be pushing her people into Djedet, but I met her in Khalem. She demanded to know where we're living Edonil. I don't like it. We argued, she explained Khalem isn't safe; but not before issues an arrest on my head for not respecting her self-proclaimed authority. I had to beg and plead like a pauper and kiss her ring to get the warrent removed. Like the abyss I'm about to trust that..."

Weston looked over at Dahla and offered her a smile as she came over. His hand tapped on Edonil's arm so she wouldn't reply just yet. "Dahla, I was thinking a little chalk might help Malys when she gets gas after feeding. Would you be able to find any stomach chalk here?"

"It should be around, I'll look hard, there was a tent up few days past for wives-tales remedies. Anything else Master Weston?"

"Get something nice for yourself and don't worry about the cost, I'll pay you the worth back. You've worked so extra hard for us of late. I insist."

Dahla took a little bit of convincing worried it was a ploy, but Weston assured her it was earnest she deserved something extra of her choice. With Malys back in his arms, Weston was able to finish talking with Edonil. Malys was getting grumpy again prompting Weston to rock side-side on his feet as he spoke just over the crying.

"In short... I think we need to move arond. For a while. I didn't tell Sharina where we are, but if the Eternal Order comes looking, we're sitting ducks. I don't even know who's given her authority around here. Not a single flier I've spotted that says obey them outside of Ne'sek. I won't risk it though, they did this to us before when they marched on Dber, and brought war next to Salandra's temple and called us cowards for not being warmongers." Weston cut himself off there realizing he was from the point and Malys seemed to be screaming louder now; like she could pick up Weston was upset and in turn was too.

[IC] Tales in the Delta

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