Ysolt coughed and sputtered as her mount shifted in shape, weight, and height. She fell to the ground, landing on something small and soft. Rubbing her eyes and clearing her throat, she looked down to find herself sitting on a white-faced, knobby-looking goblin who seemed to be straining under her weight. The priestess quickly rose to stand, apologizing in her native tongue before she raised her gaze to take in the rest of the scene. They were clearly inside the hill, a faery mound if one had to guess. The cavern was lit by small, pint-sized faeries that flitted about in the air, with a blazing light that rivaled that of fireflies. No horses could be seen, but a variety of elves, goblins, and other faery-folk fanned out before her, looking as bewildered as the poor fellow that fell beneath her crushing weight. A pale woman stood before the priestess. She had the pointed ears of an elf, wore a gown made of gossamer webs that gleamed like silver, and a golden crown graced her head. “Explain yourself,” she said sternly, but before Ysolt could, a smaller faery approached to whisper in the queen’s ear. “An oversized mortal has crushed our poor old Gobrash, Your Majesty,” they said with a tone of concern and spite. Ysolt caught the word ‘mortal’, and understood quickly that her intrusion was most unwelcome.
The elven woman made the slightest of gestures when she raised her hand. The others gathered slowly around her, attempting to circle her and possibly entrap her. “By Mistress Maka,” Ysolt whispered as she clutched her staff, pulled it from her back, and struck its base firmly on the ground before her.
SANCTITY DIFFICULTY - 9
“I seek Divine Protection,” Ysolt completed her prayer; a simple incantation requesting guidance or perhaps intervention from her matron goddess. The cup, designed as a flower at the top of her staff, radiated a warm, comforting light that washed over the priestess. A light that the faery folk found to be anything but warm and comforting.
Covering their eyes, the faery folk quickly backed away from the discomforting light. Even the goblin Gobrash at the priestess’s feet had scrambled to get away. He stumbled and tumbled about, causing a small group of fellow goblins and elves to topple over into a heap. The elven queen groaned with disgust and tossed an enchanted spear and a jug of faery mead at Ysolt’s feet. “Take these and begone,” she spat as one of her escorts prepared a portal spell out of the cavern. “The light of your divinity pains us, and we will not tolerate it further!”
The wall behind the young woman shimmered, revealing an opening in the hill. Ysolt peered through it and found Trystan running toward the hill. He was still too far away to help, but he saw the portal open up.
The priestess turned back to face the elven queen and her entourage. “Gratitude,” she said as she bowed, gathering up the items that lay at her feet, and quickly ran out of the opening. The portal snapped shut as she felt the fresh evening air envelop her face, hair, and form. Adjusting her grip on the jug and spear, she waved to Trystan and grinned triumphantly! “You’re back,” he called out breathlessly, his limbs aching from chasing the horses just moments earlier. “What happened? What were those horses?” Ysolt continued to smile; her earthy laughter echoed through the night air as she held out the spear and jug of mead to him. “Faery folk! Not like stowaway,” she answered as he opened the bottle to sniff its contents, and later examined the spear.
He then asked, “They gave you these?” The spear was of very good quality, better than anything he had ever used or seen before. “Mistress Maka reward blessed folk,” she explained as Trystan handed the items back so she could properly store them with the rest of her gear. It didn’t quite answer his questions about what happened, but they both agreed it would be best to continue on and set up camp as far away from the faery mound as possible.
Profession: Priestess
God: Maka
Rank: 1
Defense: 6
Charisma: 4
Combat: 4
Magic: 3
Sanctity: 6
Scouting: 4
Thievery: 2
Stamina: Max – 9/Current – 9
Money: 16 Shards
Possessions – Max 12: Staff, Padded Robes ( Defense +1 ), Faery Mead, Enchanted Spear ( Combat +2 ),
Resurrection Arrangements: -none-
Titles: Outcast
Blessings: Maka’s Blessing - Immunity to Disease and Poison – Ignore 1 instance of being poisoned or diseased.
Description: Long, unruly ebony hair, dark teal eyes, sun-kissed, deep mocha skin, roughly five and a quarter feet tall. Her face has been ritualistically scarred and pierced with tiny gems, a tradition from the Temple of Maka, where she was raised and trained since childhood. Generally wears vibrantly colored robes with gold and black accents, made of comfortable, hand-dyed fabrics, and some gold jewelry she inherited from her mother. Is proficient with a staff, herbalism, and botany. She knows when to listen to the land and how to distinguish between a poison and a disease. She is currently on missionary work, not to initiate new recruits for the Temple of Maka. Many of the other temples have needed outside assistance with various problems. She wishes to assist wherever she can, a show of how Maka is both benevolent and cruel.
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