Alarael settles in for the night, secure within a small copse of pines.  As she was alone, she bedded down in her leathers.  Her breathing slows and deepens, her eyes closing as she enters reverie, but almost as quickly she stirs, eyes falling upon the marble statue.  The strange feeling of disjointment makes her feel as though this was no more than a dream, but a strange dream indeed!  She walks towards the statue, spiraling ever inward and then she hears the voices.  Her eyes close as she listens, opening only when the voices and finds herself in another, new location.  Her eyes fall upon the large stone, opening wide as she falls to her knees as a rune on her arm springs to life, filling her with searing pain.<br/><br/>She almost literally bites her tongue to keep from screaming, even as a voice pierces the night air.  Cool, damp air coalesces on her bare skin, and she notes for the first time that she is nude, her clothes and items folded neatly by her feet.  She makes no move to cover herself, feeling no embarassment at being nude, or seeing others nude.  Slight of figure, she stands just under 5' in height, average height for an elf.  Dark, reddish-brown hair hangs to her lower back, straight and true.  Her deep green eyes flow from one girl to the next, doing her best to 'record' their images in her mind.  With the others engaged in coversation, she quickly dresses and checks her weapons and items.<br/><br/>Clothed in snug brown leather armor, she steps foward, speaking softly in a rather coarse voice, in fluent elvish,<em><strong>"mae govannen ar' vedui`."</strong></em>The thought that the other women might not speak Elvish does not occur to her, but then her common was rather poor, if only from lack of use.<br/><br/><em>*greetings and well met</em>