[i]Sometime earlier...[/i]

The night against a wooden floor did not bode well for her, how already she missed the open sky and touch of earth. Sleep came only by necessity, but it was not welcome sleep. Rather, it was the sort that came out of exhaustion and the desire to simply disconnect from reality for a time. But how she paid for it when she did at last awake, head nested upon her arm and her towering figure splayed across the floor of their quarters. In the night she had slipped out from her bed to sleep there, not by waking dream, but by the knowing desire to be just that much closer to how things felt inexplicably right, the rest of the company be damned. Owing to this, each joint in her seemed to resist when she at last sat upright, dim golden eyes visibly displeased with the very way she felt.

At least now it was still dark, quiet, tranquil. Things she needed after whatever truthfully they had witnessed but a week or two prior. Some sort of twisted, monstrous omen had overtaken an entire village and a woman only known as a hag was to blame. It had decayed the very environment, perverting it in ways that only disgusted her; if there was ever a time to call down a firestorm it would have been then. Everything in her meditation was turbulent and displeased, filled with violent thoughts or uninvited recollection. She swore that it was that she was cooped up within this inn, this building, let alone this busied city... and that she had made the error of trying to sleep in the bed, if at all.

By the time the rest had awoken, she had managed to redress her disheveled look, but remained seated by herself with her back to a wall and hood draw up, clearly in a thoughtful trance. The entire point was not to distance herself from them, but rather the world as a whole for a time; to clear her mind of thoughts and regain her inherent power. Standoffish and strange as it was, it was not a matter open for debate and they could believe or think whatever they made of it.

When they saw themselves out the door however.

[i]Currently...[/i]

From the moment Arthera crossed the threshold of the door, really even before that, her senses were instantly offended by the presence of the lame folk, a number of who seemed to be gathered around a dragonborn. Before she could even adjust her loose sleeves or conceal her face, she knew well that they all had the same feeling about him and his gathering. In fact, as they drew closer, the scaled man's words became all too accurate to be coincidence. [i]Now[/i] there really was something, other than him being a bit touched in the head and the subject of the elven woman, Ceria's visible scrutiny.

"Daisy", as she so assumed for herself, had already slipped between the figures of the crowd and leaned in to his ear. Whatever words she was sharing his reaction reasonably changed. In the meanwhile during this, Arthera remained on the fringes of the crowd that accompanied the metallic dragonkin, looking the man over with the other company present. Up until the added presence of the tiefling, he seemed to believe what he was saying - something that did not bode well for the primalist's feelings about the man. To be perfectly forthcoming, he if anything was a symbolic problem given the fact he was attracting a crowd at all.

"Typical." Arthera scorned, narrowing her eyes as the words left her tongue.

She glanced from one side of the gathering to the other with underlying disdain, her height aiding her in this effort. Those that seemed entranced, perhaps even honestly believing the creature worried her some. It was too familiar in a way that was eerie enough to concern her thoughts. After all, only a few weeks prior they had witnessed an entire town fall under something's sway.

[hider=Effects]
In the morning when she awakens, Arthera takes the time to clear her mind and restore her psionic reserve by meditating. She begins with 14 power points and assumes her psychic focus of [i]Psionic Restoration[/i]. No less after that, she shrouds herself in a protective field of invisible force through her [i]Mage Armor[/i].

Later on, Arthera's rolled Insight toward the doomsayer is [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/2176]14[/url], suggesting to her that he believes what it is he is saying.
[/hider]
[@JBRam2002][@Oraculum][@Turbowraith][@Mistiel][@Ermine][@Ms Ravenwinter]