Sunday 14th December 1952
[It is night as Artanis emerges into the city; of course, the nights in Veles are long and the days short, but to one who knows only night this would be a comfort were she to know of it. Though the snowfall has stopped, what remains still forms snowy banks against the shadowy outlines of buildings, crisp and white save, now, for the faintest of impressions which mark in footsteps the passage of one for whom they are no obstacle...
Artanis leaves only the faintest of footprints on the snow as she walks, and even those she would attribute more to the boots than to her own feet. As for the clothes which she has been given... she would rather have kept within her possession the white robe and sandals which first they gave to her, rather than have been given these. Her hair, long and shining silver-gold, is unbound and flows past her shoulders to her waist as she moves slowly, cautiously, glancing around at the unfamiliar buildings which face her. There are like nothing upon which she has ever set her eyes, so peculiar: harsh and grey, and built of some stone which she has never seen before.
This world, encased though it is in snow and ice, is harsher than the land which she had walked before she came here, or at least that portion of it which she had immediately come from, the dark bridge of the Helcaraxë. And even if the stars do not seem so bright here, they are stars still, and that is enough.
It would seem also that she has a star clutched in her hand, but to those who had knowledge of the jewelsmiths of the Noldor it would be possible to recognise the gemstone that she cradles. There is a suggestion of a scar upon her right cheek, and burns upon her hands, from a world far beyond this place that seems still very close in the mind of Artanis, as if she is awaiting only the lifting of some veil before her world returns to her again.
For this is not Endor, nor Valinor, and she wonders whether the exile placed upon her kin by the Valar has taken a darker turn than ever she could have thought. To her relief, there is no sense of Mel-- of Morgoth here, no darkness of that sort in this land save for the vestiges of darkness in her own mind, and yet there is something... unrestful here. She wishes again for a sword at her side, but has none, only directions to a place named by those whom she was apprehended by 'Midgard'.
Such... strange creatures. She had not come across such before. They looked almost like her own kind, the Children of Iluvatar, save not so fair nor so tall as she, and the tongue in which they spoke had seemed fractured and uncouth. They had not answered to her questioning about their kind, and had carried those strange metal items that...
The hand which does not hold tightly to the Noldorin jewel raises to her left cheek, where a faint red mark can be seen. In another time and another place she would have made any who acted so regret the impertinence of their behaviour, but here Artanis senses, if does not fully know, that there are many things which she must learn.
But first, she makes her way across the snow to the place called 'Midgard', and thence to unravel what was meant by the cryptic comment of the strangely-dressed... men? she is not sure if such a word is correct... beings regarding the third of some thing of which she is not yet aware.
For all that she fears she has to learn, she does not know one part of what awaits her.]
((OoC: I seem to be wordy today. Catch her, if you wish, on her way through Veles or once she's into the apartments~))
Artanis leaves only the faintest of footprints on the snow as she walks, and even those she would attribute more to the boots than to her own feet. As for the clothes which she has been given... she would rather have kept within her possession the white robe and sandals which first they gave to her, rather than have been given these. Her hair, long and shining silver-gold, is unbound and flows past her shoulders to her waist as she moves slowly, cautiously, glancing around at the unfamiliar buildings which face her. There are like nothing upon which she has ever set her eyes, so peculiar: harsh and grey, and built of some stone which she has never seen before.
This world, encased though it is in snow and ice, is harsher than the land which she had walked before she came here, or at least that portion of it which she had immediately come from, the dark bridge of the Helcaraxë. And even if the stars do not seem so bright here, they are stars still, and that is enough.
It would seem also that she has a star clutched in her hand, but to those who had knowledge of the jewelsmiths of the Noldor it would be possible to recognise the gemstone that she cradles. There is a suggestion of a scar upon her right cheek, and burns upon her hands, from a world far beyond this place that seems still very close in the mind of Artanis, as if she is awaiting only the lifting of some veil before her world returns to her again.
For this is not Endor, nor Valinor, and she wonders whether the exile placed upon her kin by the Valar has taken a darker turn than ever she could have thought. To her relief, there is no sense of Mel-- of Morgoth here, no darkness of that sort in this land save for the vestiges of darkness in her own mind, and yet there is something... unrestful here. She wishes again for a sword at her side, but has none, only directions to a place named by those whom she was apprehended by 'Midgard'.
Such... strange creatures. She had not come across such before. They looked almost like her own kind, the Children of Iluvatar, save not so fair nor so tall as she, and the tongue in which they spoke had seemed fractured and uncouth. They had not answered to her questioning about their kind, and had carried those strange metal items that...
The hand which does not hold tightly to the Noldorin jewel raises to her left cheek, where a faint red mark can be seen. In another time and another place she would have made any who acted so regret the impertinence of their behaviour, but here Artanis senses, if does not fully know, that there are many things which she must learn.
But first, she makes her way across the snow to the place called 'Midgard', and thence to unravel what was meant by the cryptic comment of the strangely-dressed... men? she is not sure if such a word is correct... beings regarding the third of some thing of which she is not yet aware.
For all that she fears she has to learn, she does not know one part of what awaits her.]
((OoC: I seem to be wordy today. Catch her, if you wish, on her way through Veles or once she's into the apartments~))