<strong>Neria Zathrieal - Day 1 - Falling from the sky in the Fields of Faraway....</strong><br/><br/>A small electrical storm appeared to the east and north of Solo's current position, an early indication of a dimensional rift about to open up in this strange new world from a different one.  The small lightning arcs and bolts that crackled in the sky without a cloud to be seen became significantly worse before a rip in the very fabric of space and time appeared before spitting out a woman in elven mithril chainmail.  (See pic in profile.)  The elven woman's golden blonde hair was trailing beautifully behind her, her face a masterpiece to behold, ageless and without a single blemish or scar to mar her image, and an hourglass figure that was kept through rigorous exercise and traveling was just a few things that could have been seen if Solo had been watching the entire time before she fell to the ground.  The heavy pack on her back didn't help to cushion the fall at all, rather it made it worse since she fell face first into the dirt, an audible groan escaping her full lips before she managed to roll herself over into a sitting position.  "I am never doing that again with a pack on my back."  She groaned, sore but otherwise alright as she stood and dusted herself off, a slender straight sword on her right hip with a shield slung across her back along with her heavy brown traveling pack.  She had plenty of healing potions, salves, balms, and enough herbs to mix up several new batches of whatever she needed with the tools to match.  She also possessed the basic in survival gear for travel in the wilds such as flint and steel, a few torches, rope, a tent, and other necessities that she had thought to bring.  Turning her sharp sea green elven eyes towards the green haired youth, Neria smiled warmly before waving at the man.  "Hello!  Do you know where I might be?"  Her voice was melodic and soothing to the ears, further telling any that listened that she was a gentle, compassionate person once they got to know her.<br/><br/>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/><strong>Giselle Do'Urden - Day 1 - Small village on the way to Stoneholm</strong><br/><br/>"You know, from what I heard, I can't really blame him for stealing if your new king is as corrupt as they say."  A voice sounded out from behind the group before the owner was seen standing by a tree, her black skinned arms crossed over her chest, silver gray long hair blowing elegantly to the right as the wind picked up just then.  Two slender scimitar blades rested on her slender hips within easy reach of her very dexterous hands, showing that she was capable if not competent in her abilities as a ranger and a force for good.  "Petty bandit he might be, but people do what they must to survive, something I'm sure you can appreciate, eh guards-woman?"  She continued before standing straight and walking over to the group, keeping her hands from her swords for now, black mithril chainmail armor adorning her slender figure that was perfectly honed and toned to a razor's edge.  Everything about her exuded confidence and ability that was hard to match by most save for the most skilled of warriors.  Giselle was the best in her home world, having came down much as a certain light elf had about the same time.  "I just have two questions for you.  Where am I, and where can I get a good meal?"  A large coin purse of gold coins, while not in their currency, was visible on her sword belt and should work well enough for what she required, unless they wanted to raise a fuss over it.  Her chestnut brown eyes zeroed in on Daria's face as she awaited a reply, the heavy traveling pack on her back starting to weigh her steps, but she paid it little mind.  Her brown leather boots on the other hand were needing to come off before too long after her long trek through the Trollbark Forest back home in Faerun, but that could wait as well, at least for now.  She'd still be glad to get off of her feet though, regardless of where she managed it.  Black pants covered her legs, the entire ensemble hiding the multitude of scars her body bore from her 300 years of life so far.  Underneath the tough exterior and the marks of battles along the way, Giselle was a good friend to have at your back, and she was powerful enough to keep it safe through even the most trying of times.