<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/c/c0/Fd5e741b1b90361f6a2643d2aad8e6d3--felicity-jones-hair-photo-pro.jpg/450px-Fd5e741b1b90361f6a2643d2aad8e6d3--felicity-jones-hair-photo-pro.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Kirien Silverlark<br/><strong>Class: </strong>Cleric/Mage<br/><strong>Time: </strong>Patchwall, 7, 577 CY, dusk<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Greyhawk territory, Two Fords, Idle Boar Inn, common room<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>all<br/><strong>Content Warning: </strong>none<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>The Idle Boar was busier than she'd ever seen it, and that was bound to happen at times, but it wasn't a bad thing.  She'd gotten comfortable with the friends she'd ridden there with, and greeted Pansy when she'd arrived as well.  Kirien was happy.  Happy, and yet...<br/><br/>Teria seemed observant, too...of her mistress' attitude.  Being a priestess was often filled with waiting--attentive to more senior clergy, or waiting on communications from your deity.  Not open, spoken words, but...signs.  Omens, even.  These were not a common occurrence, but they were gifted to her on occasion.  They left her with a feeling of awe and a sense of foreboding.<br/><br/>Like she felt now.<br/><br/>She greeted Melan and Eferhild when they entered, politely rising.  The paladin she knew of, from an encounter in Greyhawk.  She was well-spoken and humble.  The other she did not know, but was respectful to.  And while she was by no means a shy person--much the opposite--she was still mostly a private person, much given to keeping her own company when not attending her duties, reading and researching and curled up with her beloved Teria.  She felt a tug at the back of her mind as one of her hands slipped from caressing Teria's wings, and slid down to the interior pocket of her cloak.  There within it was the unusual piece of metal.<br/><br/>Enastril had shown her one that was much similar, and they had, like is common with mages of the elven race, made thoughtful and interested commentary on what they believed they were and where they might have come from.  It was quite curious to have had such a coincidence.  It was curious enough to make a tale of it to her other friends, in fact.  After all, she'd only told Enastril where hers had come from.  She withdrew the piece from her pocket, rolling it in her palm, then taking it between a thumb and slender forefinger.<br/><br/>"Here's a strange tale I have to tell, my friends and acquaintances."<br/><br/>She held the piece up somewhat, showing it's pale, silvery sheen, without a score or scratch upon it, and lacking any sort of tarnish.  Upon one side--the flattest--the metal was a deep red, with an inverted 'V' upon it.<br/><br/>"This was given to me, by a stranger to Beratana; a fellow elf, and a warrior, from Celene.  He'd stumbled into the village, gravely wounded, missing his blade and any other gear, and was brought to my cottage for aid.  I found his wounds worse than they had first appeared, but when I asked him how he came about them, he would not listen to my words.  No, all he would do was press this metal into my hand, and insist I keep it hidden well."<br/><br/>She placed it softly upon the table, where it sat, crimson-side up.<br/><br/>"Alas...his wounds were too serious for my simple magics, and he passed on to Arvandor within the hour.  I gathered no more information about this piece of metal he gave to me...not until Enastril arrived during Brewfest."<br/><br/>She looked up at her friend from Highfolk.  "He arrived for an extended visit, with much to discuss of personal matters.  But while he was there, I showed this to him, and he did something most amazing...he produced another piece of metal, too similar to the first to be coincidental.  He told me he received it from his arcane master, through his sister...in Highfolk, a good many leagues distant to the north, across the Velverdyva River and the entirety of Furyondy."  Eyes on the metal, she paused, then sighed.<br/><br/>"I suppose that is where the mystery comes to an end, however.  I do not find it likely to ever discover the source of these pieces, or understand their purpose.  Perhaps some day I may approach a smith in Greyhawk, or even visit the Mage's Guild and inquire of it.  They are a curiosity, but likely nothing more than a leftover of some armorer or jeweler.  I know nothing of goldsmithy or the artistry of such.  Perhaps they are simply the castoffs of such a crafter?"<br/><br/>She shrugged, but even if she appeared to show indifference, her body language betrayed her by leaning forward.  No, even without understanding what they were, she felt there was something more to them than her bare hypothesis.