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    1. Galloway 10 yrs ago

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Yar sorry for the late reply. Also anybody feel free to hit me with a stick if I'm being a boring sod.
~~~Dunbar, Scotland.~~~

Morwyn awkwardly bowed in return -- she wasn't going to attempt curtsying in pants -- and hesitantly joined him by the fire.

"Well," she started slowly, "You'll forgive me for being frank, sir, but I am the illegitimate daughter of one of the, ah, lesser nobles. I'll think you'll understand if I don't want to name him. His wife was the jealous sort you see, and he feared for his reputation, but he had a kind heart so he sent my mother off where she'd be safely removed from those silly court politics. He paid for a tutor in secret and so I learned to write. Though I've always been more interested in sword fighting," she cleared her throat and stared at the ground, "which as you can imagine he never approved of." Morwyn figured the lie would be uncomfortable enough to discourage him from prying further.

She paused. "What makes you think the Scots aren't involved in that debacle you described? You don't trust your brother's judgement?" If there was trouble brewing between Scotland and Ireland she needed to know. She wouldn't want to get caught in Perth with that sort of tension going on.
Mortalbean said I'll try but I'm pretty sure I'll have to pop a squat so you can even punch above the belt.


oooOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sorry. That wrek was too good. I concede. You win this round.
~~~Dunbar, Scotland.~~~

Morwyn stared slack-jawed at the man while he ranted, not making a peep. When he was finished she spoke up. "Sorry, are you saying that you're a son of Richard Burgh? And that he's dead?" Though listening into conversations that she had no business listening to was a favorite pastime for Morwyn, unfortunately she had very little care for politics and the like. If anyone ever brought up so much as a word about any of it, she was likely to tune them out completely. If word had come of the recent changes to Ulster, she hadn't heard of it. Her interests typically lied elsewhere, but she did make an exception when it concerned her own country.

Morwyn was tempted to believe him mad, if she hadn't been aware of the previous Earl's failing health. And if the man himself hadn't sounded so frustrated over the tale.

But that last line had rubbed her the wrong way, so regardless of whatever status he had -- Morwyn wasn't actually sure how you were supposed to treat the supposed brother of an Earl -- she retorted quickly. "Are you daft? Those were..." but she trailed off, hesitating. She was quite familiar with Ulster and even more familiar with the general distrust of sorcery in that area. It was rampant, even, at least it felt that way to her when she'd last been there. She doubted that she was in any actual danger, but still had no desire to put him off. Especially if he was so eager to babble all these secrets to her.

"Oh, ah, what was I saying? Er, the name's Morwyn by the way. I didn't catch yours?" She asked, fumbling quite badly with her words, quickly trying to work out some lie about why she'd be wandering alone all the way out here.
~~~Dunbar, Scotland.~~~

Morwyn considered the man as he picked his way among the rocks towards her. She saw no signs of companions, no shadows, no sounds of footfalls or clanking or shifting clothing beyond what noise the man made. Satisfied that it wasn't some sort of trap, she relaxed, and perked up upon hearing his offer. "Cheese, did you say? Well in that case come and warm yourself," she said, walking the short distance back to her fire. "Funny the two of us meeting eh? Hailing from the same country and all." Morwyn idly tossed a branch on the waning fire, noticed the runes she had used earlier were still scratched into the sand, and so casually kicked them until they were gone. It was just bad practice to leave those sorts of things written down if you were done using them. She wondered how she could have honestly forgotten to get rid of them in the first place. Normally, she was very mindful about that sort of thing.

Shrugging off her carelessness she leaned against the cliff-rock. "What's a lone Irishman doing on this side of Scotland anyway? I thought I was the only one crazy enough to venture all the way out here, and then here you show up in the exact same place, most likely thinking the same thing of me."
Morwyn jerked her head up when she heard the call, and was shocked to find it distinctly Irish. She stood up and peered out from the edge of her hideout, and saw a man a little ways from her. He appeared to be alone, but she was cautious. What would an Irishman be doing all the way out here? Let alone with what appeared to only a sack for gear, and no horse. Someone could have watched her wander off after she stabled her horse, perhaps some scoundrel had seen her and wished her ill. Was this man bait to lead her out of her hiding place? She had no interest in being robbed tonight, or worse, so she hesitated.

Eventually she decided that she would rather indulge curiosity over caution. She had often shared fires with similar travelers, after all, but never before in such a foreign place as this. She stepped further out so he would see her, waved one arm, and called out loudly, "You there, did you say you were looking for a fire? I've got somewhat of one." She left it there, without a clear offer to share it just yet. Her left hand settled comfortably on the hilt of the dagger at her hip.
Well it's no one's fault with the guild being the way it is. I'll be writing a post momentarily.

Edit #2: oh it's up I can finally write this

>unnaturally short
>almost thought she was a little girl.

OI MATE them's fighting words YOU WANNA GO

fight me 1v1 irl
~~~Dunbar, Scotland~~~

Morwyn stood on an outcropping of rock, poised and gripping the edges of a net that sunk into the sea below her. When her quarry unknowingly swam into the trap she heaved her arms upwards and pulled the unlucky fish out onto the rock, where it writhed and strained against the rope. She had been there a good long while, and though she could have hurried the process, she had always been adamantly opposed to the aid of magic when it came to hunting. Just didn't seem fair, she'd always said. And anyway, she quite enjoyed the quiet and the patience; to her, it was a type of meditation.

After she killed the thing she walked towards the cliff-side, where she hoped the tall and looming rocks would hide her fire from the townsfolk. She had gathered wood prior and stacked it, so she sat in the sand and drew the runes that were long burned into her mind: fire, catch, wood. The kindling easily took to flame and she hung the whole fish on a spit to cook, not caring enough to scale it. It was a spare thing, unfortunately. She would not have extras left tomorrow.

She sat back on her heels and considered the fire. Though these runes came easy to her, they were common, and she desired to know more of the nuances of the Ignis style. She was nearly in Perth now. Tomorrow she would pay for a ferry to cross the bay, then she would be in Fife. She thought she might stay there a while and ask around to get a feel for the place. After all, though she was not technically from Connaught, being Irish and being strongest in the Ventus style of magic would both be counts against her. Well, she thought, perhaps there is at least one open-minded master I could appeal to.

For now she let her thoughts wander. To save her money Morwyn did not opt to stay in an inn tonight, despite her heavy travelling and aching back. Instead she had paid to have her horse stabled, and would likely spend the same amount on a supply of grain from the locals.

As the sun set over the ocean Morwyn found it a profound sight. Here she was, near the heart of those who studied the great Fire element in depth, and it looked to her as if the sea itself were set ablaze.
Bump.
I would go for it Blaze, you can always emphasize that you're looking for a low-casual, faster-paced RP, I'm sure there are people there interested in that.
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