Out of Character:
Solo. Events take place after "The Spinner's Web."
The height of noon brought with it the brilliant light that filtered through the leaves of Concordia Forest like the translucent stained glass of a lovingly-adorned temple. Erissa sat upon the ground in awe of the verdant beauty, a sylvan wonder the likes of which she could only dream when she resided in Anebrilith. There, she dared not venture into the Red Forest, and rarely did she venture outside of Caedron Hall, her father's home.
Erissa shuddered as she imagined the wrath of her father at her hasty departure. The young elf would have harbored guilt that her mother bore the brunt of his anger - had she not been a co-conspirator in her husband's manipulations. Her mother's passivity concerning the events in their lives fully implicated her in Erissa's assessment. The anger she could not abandon grew within her again; she had been blind, betrayed by all those around her. She expected it from her father, and to a much lesser extent from her mother. However, the acts of her servant were a stark blindside that shook her world to its core.
Having decided that there was no place for her in Anebrilith, Erissa had willingly gone from the very lap of luxury to sleeping on the ground in a few short weeks, and her stomach rumbled constantly as the food quickly spoiled on the road north from Serenti. It was purely good fortune that in the current time of year the fields of southern Corone brought forth a variety of foods she quietly and regretfully pilfered for subsistence. The same fortune abandoned her beneath the eaves of Concordia and her hunger was perpetual, never sated by the wild berries and bitter roots she found therein.
Erissa forced the barrage of thoughts from her mind and focused instead on the emerald leaf in her hands. Almost imperceptibly, the leaf trembled, though the high elf remained as still as stone. Not a breath of wind was upon her skin in the moments that followed, but the leaf flipped from her cupped hands and floated gently to the ground. Satisfied, Erissa quickly rose and shook the debris from the cloak she had spread beneath herself. The budding arcanist took a deep breath and wondered at herself; the new powers she had recently acquired were very foreign to her. She had not yet become intimate with her abilities and the practice of them left her feeling alien.
The sun began its descent beyond the canopy of the forest as Erissa wrapped the cloak around her diminutive frame. The cloth was rough and irritated her bare arms, but her fine attire would only attract the type of attention she did not want. The master tailor regretted not purchasing different clothing during her month's stay in Serenti, but at that time she could not bring herself to discard her wardrobe. She walked with her head down, studying the elven songbook she'd taken from her father's extensive library as she made her way back to the nearby road. After a few moments, Erissa began quietly singing in rhythm with her footsteps as she walked.
Her feet ached and her body hurt. The traveling song she sang did somewhat bolster her resolve, but Erissa was painfully exhausted. Underwood was her destination, and she had remained on foot since leaving the boat that carried her from her native home of Raiaera. A handsome price Erissa had payed to secure a private cabin; she spent the journey across the sea in solitude. When she had arrived in Corone, indecision and a longing for familiarity had kept her in the southern port town of Serenti for so long.
At mid-afternoon, the high elf breached the outskirts of Underwood. The town was alive and populated with people of all sorts; newcomers were not unusual here and she rarely endured more than a moment's scrutiny from wary and watchful eyes. Erissa kept her head down and trudged forward, searching for a place to rest and eat. She was relieved when she found her way to the local tavern, The Peaceful Promenade. Attempting to remain inconspicuous, she took stock of the patrons as they arrived and went. None seemed overly threatening, so Erissa steeled herself as she stepped quickly and lightly across the path to the doors of the establishment. She slipped in through a barely opened door and took the first open seat against the wall she could find. The tavern was more populated than she would like, though it could have been much worse. The patrons were only beginning their warm-up for the evening rowdiness, and Erissa intended to find an inn before then.
She slipped the hood of her cloak back so that it rested on her shoulders. The light from the window behind her created a glowing halo as her silver hair caught the light, though the back-lit quality of it somewhat obscured her features. A waitress bustled to her table.
“What'll ya 'ave?” She asked with a friendly smile that well suited her rotund face.
“Wine, if you have it. If you offer a meal, I will have that as well,” Erissa said quietly.
“Just so happens we got both,” said the waitress. “How 'bout our special?”
“Thank you,” Erissa said with a grateful nod. Several minutes later, the waitress returned with her wine and a bowl of stew. Erissa looked around nervously as the waitress stood near her in uncomfortable silence.
"You've money to pay, I 'ope?" The waitress shifted her weight to her other leg and jutted out her generous hip. Embarrassed, Erissa quickly removed the coins from her satchel; to the plump woman's pleasant surprise, Erissa tipped generously. With an extra spring in her step she whisked away to the next table.
Erissa gingerly dipped her spoon into the stew and dared to stir it. The clumps of meat and brown vegetables floated in a steaming, gelatinous gravy. Slicks of spicy red grease had already formed on the skim; it was a far cry from her normal fare. She considered sending it back, but the immediate demand of her hunger would not allow such a thing. In spite of its appearance, Erissa found the stew to be very satisfying, even rather tasty. She sopped the last of the gravy from the bowl with a bit of crusty bread and savored the spicy warmth that lingered in the back of her throat.
The petite elf pushed the empty bowl to the opposite edge of the table and removed her songbook from her satchel. She lay it on the table and hunched over it, taking care to make herself appear busy. From time to time a raucous would arise, but for the most part she was ignored by the patrons who seemed unfazed by low-profile strangers in their tavern.