[center][IMG]http://i1214.photobucket.com/albums/cc493/zarkys5/azira-banner_1.png[/IMG]
[color=18A0B3][h2] To Craenak and Back || Thinking About The Future || Mood: Melancholic[/h2][/color]
[@Melo][i]- at least in a bit[/i]

[hider=skills][list]
[*] [color=136E7B]Performance - [/color][color=33B85F] Azira is proficient in flattery, and usually faces no issue in using this to get what she wants, particularly when it comes to the opposite gender or those sexually attracted to them. One of their greatest skills is the mask they wear to convince others of their usefulness.[/color]
[*] [color=18A0B3]Perception - [/color] [color=33B85F]Azira is quite skilled at reading people. She's become proficient in acknowledging the body language and behaviour of people and she can usually tell what someone is "actually" trying to say.[/color]
[*] [color=136E7B]Nimble Hands - [/color] [color=33B85F]Usually finding something to barter with, Azira became pretty good at making small things out of the dirt or the nature around them and selling it on the road. This could be beneficial in the way of lockpicking or pickpocketing as well. Untying knots? No problem![/color][/list]
[list]
[*] [color=18A0B3]Scavenger - [/color][color=33B85F] While Azira was usually exempt from hunting (or she would find someone to do it for her), she became great at looking through places, finding plants and fruits and small rodents that were edible with her own hands and finding what she needed to keep going.[/color]
[*] [color=136E7B]Brute Strength - [/color] [color=33B85F]Hiding behind her delicate persona is a woman of dangerous strength. She can overpower most woman and men her size and she isn't above strangling someone or using her hands to kill. When on the road, sometimes you'd have to break the sturdy bones of your kill. [/color][*] [color=18A0B3]Daggers - [/color] [color=33B85F]Almost a Rumasra staple, Azira is great at using daggers both in direct combat and stealth. She's smart enough to know that going for the kill is the best way to make it out alive. [/color] [/list][/hider][/center]

   Azira had prepared ages ago for the moral quandary that was coming with the oncoming Gathering, but the benefit to all the events that were happening within the Karill tribe meant that there would be numerous occasions for her to fade away into the background and set up everything that needed to happen.

 That meant one last night with the man of her dreams.

  She’d given up on a happy life a long time ago. Back in the plains outside the Hollafoth clan as she held her dying father in her arms, and then decided to murder the man that took his life; that was when she gave up on ever having the things that she wanted. That being said, she couldn’t say that her past few years with the Karill had been appealing. Essentially having unbridled access to a group of rather prideful royals left her with plenty of time to work on her performance, to twist the people around, and make her presence known wherever she went.

 She knew what they said about her, how people were afraid of that powerful woman that guarded their Clan leader. The woman whose beauty could destroy the hopes of any man. She’d played her role well, and she would continue to play that role for as long as she needed. But the Gathering always brought about thoughts of change, of growth, and transformation. In terms of age, she was approaching her middle age, and if she ever had a chance to try and gain a life that was more than pretending to be this dangerous slaver, this may be her only chance.

 The Clan Leader told her she was free for the Gathering. As he prepped to marry off his daughter, Azira really had no need to hang around. Grabbing a small slip of paper, and her white mask, she slipped it onto her face and wandered out into the dusk hours, past the numerous campgrounds that were set up, and the central fire, where children were already gathered around story tellers and travelers, who shared their journeys and crafted brilliant stories about the Gods above. The children from all the different clans gasped and giggled at the stories these performers crafted, and Azira had to remind herself there was a task at hand before she became enthralled herself. She missed the days when there was joy in performance.

 Instead, she spent every day as a performer, and it threatened to become her. 

 She shook her head, and pulled her hair back as it dangled down her back. Her sandaled feet tapped lightly against the dust as she walked with purpose past the camps. She heard whispers flying around about a missing Narcissa, but Azira thought nothing of it. It was not unusual for Narcissa to walk off on her own for whatever reason, based on what her father said.

 No, her focus was somewhere in the Craenak clan. She’d heard that a certain mercenary had been travelling with them recently… It had been a long time since they last saw each other.

 Quietly she dodged the eyes of people moving past as she pulled her mask off of her face. She’d used it as a symbol before. An icon to represent the night the spent together last. Hopefully the rugged man would know what it meant. It took a few moments, but eventually she found what she was looking for.

 A small tent just on the outskirts of the encampment. A soft grin came to her face as she wandered into Floran's tent quietly and lay the mask on the ground. 

 She was unsure what would come of this. Her brain was playing numerous contingencies, planning multiple exit plans… she never let her guard down, for even a second.
 
[color=18A0B3] “Whatever deity is listening,”[/color]
 she muttered under her breath,[color=18A0B3]  “let this Gathering decide my future.” [/color]