Current Character Description - Koniev Naysa Sofronio

Head held high and scanning the horizon, you first notice a visible scar starting from above his right brow; ending diagonally at the middle of his cheek bone. His body is covered by a linen viborg tunic. Wrapped around his waist is a brown leather belt which holds his tanned pants tightly to his waist. His boots are made from the best material well suited for travels and adventures. He appears well-toned for his size: Stark, agile and prepared to take on any battle that lies in his path. Draped about his shoulders lies a grey hooded cloak; tailored from simple yet elegant cotton. His hair, cut short in military fashion, shines darkly in the light. Around his neck gleams a small faint gem of rosey hue; a disk showing his devotion to the deity Lathander. Scabbards poke out from above his collar behind his head, revealing the hilts of the blades with which he dispenses justice. Twinkling from a strap on the middle of the scabbards, like a glowing star in the midnight sky, is a medallion bearing the insignia of The Dragon's Hoard. "I have to see me like the rising sun."

Runaway

Emalia walked out of the House of the Moon with laden pockets of fruits and vegetables. She was actually in good spirits, having had a tune played for her by Koniev, though his flattery was a little awk-ward for her to handle. He was definitely nice enough - even lending her a little money when she couldn't find her bank ID. Most refreshing was her freedom from Nephesh, Colin, or anyone else for that matter.

As she parted ways with Koniev, she wondered if it wouldn't just be best to set out on her own. It would be so much easier for her to go out alone, no one to worry about or talk to... after all, this was her quest - she was seeking herself.

Emalia kept her eyes shifting around every corner, drawing more attention than she avoided, but bought what little supplies she thought she might need. Her heart raced as she flipped her white hood over her head and darted through the city. 'North to the mountains, north to the mountains,' she chanted as she shuffled amongst the crowds of the Northern Gate and onto the road ahead.

"Sir!" Emalia ran behind a groaning cart, the horse pulling it looking as unsteady as its load.
"Sir! Please... wait..."
"Hold," the older man called, pulling on the reigns and stopping his horse. He looked down at Emalia with chubby sun-reddened cheeks, waiting.
"Are you going far north?"
"Ayea."
"Might I ride along?"
"Well, goin' only as far as Port Llast. Might take a day ern two. Dunno ya eithern."
"I will give you the last coin I hold." Emalia pulled a platinum coin from the fold in her robe, passing it up to the interested man. He grunted as he looked it over.
"Climb in the back. Don't eat my food or drink my wine. Best to not drink my wine - that's the  only damn thing tha sells in Blasted Llast."
"I won't touch a thing, I have all my own provisions."
"Mmm."

The wheels began complaining again and Emalia sat between a couple of barrels of wine while the slats that made up the wagon groaned against each other. She watched the city walls slowly - slowly - grow smaller as the cart miraculously headed up the mountain road. As day turned  into night and into day again, Emalia wished for the sake of her back side she would have run  away while she was already *in* Port Llast.

Seeking Emalia

Sanria let out a long, deep sigh. She had now been in Westbridge for two days, and no one had seen Emalia. She was sure to leave a small note for Thasmudyan, letting him know where she had gone. There was not going to be a repeat in the disappearing act again. She had begged him, in fact, simply to stay home and let her handle it, to allow her to search for their daughter while he stayed safe in the cavern. It was harder than she imagined it would be.

She had stopped in to get a cup of coffee when she met Koniev. Though she had intended to drink her caffeine while she walked, Sanria ended up sitting and listening to the young man's tale. She couldn't imagine what Koniev had endured, any more than she could imagine all that Sandorin had endured, and toward the end of the conversation, she had discovered exactly how she had made Emalia feel... overlooked and unimportant.

Sanria decided to take Koniev's suggestion and post a bulletin in the middle of Market Square, and to the sides of all the buildings she could. Hastily, she scrawled out a missive and rushed to the paperboy. "I need to see your boss. Where is he?" It shocked her to see the boy recoil from her, clutching the papers to his chest. "Take it easy, lady... I don't have coin." "What?" "Quit begging." "Begging?" "I know your type, you can't have a free paper, and you can't have my money." "No no, I'm looking for my daughter."

The paperboy eyed her for a moment, relaxing only slightly. "Does she look like you?" "A little," Sanria nodded, "yes." "Does she need a change of clothes just as bad?" Sanria stood up, glancing to the ground in shock. "Never mind... t-thank you."

The paperboy merely shrugged, falling right back into his sales pitch, though still clutching the papers to his chest, as Sanria wandered away. Before, she might have asked Catrina for help, but having been so long gone, nothing seemed the same.

It was a quick walk to the pub, the one place she felt none would stare at her for her dingy clothing, and even faster to find an empty table near the corner. Amidst the din of drunkards, Sanria began the task of making flyers-hundreds of them.