[center][color=007fff][b][u]Azura[/u][/b][/color]
Level 2
Day 3
Location: The Land of Skyrim
[b]Experience: [color=orange]||||[/color][color=black]||||||||||||||||[/color] (4/20)[/b] 
Word Count: 506[/center]

Whispered words sifted through the night, filtering into the tent and into the dreamless sleep of the woman in white.  At first Azura took them to be figments of her imagination, or mistaken whistles of a wandering wind, but the more she ruminated upon them the realer they seemed, until she could have sworn some mysterious visitor was beckoning to her from beyond the flaps of the tent.  Yet, at the same time she knew her caller to be neither conjuration of the night nor hidden stranger.  Earlier in the day she heard that voice, and soonafter had she heard it denied to her.  This voice came from far away and from on high, neither malicious nor enigmatic, but rather like a grandfather calling his grandchild to an important talk.

[color=007fff]“The Greybeards,”[/color] she breathed, eyes blinking open.  Finding herself plagued by stiffness when she tried to move, she rolled her neck and stretched her muscles with gritted teeth until the soreness passed, and stood.  In a moment she stood outside, staring into the night.  Her thought did not lay upon the dreariness of her habitation or the less-than-pleasant company she kept, but upon the distant summit silhouetted against the moon.  Dim visions of stone walls and arches, bathed in snow and awash in wind, slipped through her mind, and with a shiver she wondered if this was a dream after all.  

But her surreal fixation on the call did not abate.  Danger waited out in the darkness, and more noises than the biting breeze interrupted the night's tranquility, but she had been chosen.  Lance in hand, she made her wait through the camp, a silent white wraith in the torchlit dark.  When she reached the walled camp's perimeter, she slunk toward the wooden wall away from the nearest brazier, for she saw several figures standing guard.  They were talking in low tones, she realized, and after a short time one moved away on patrol, leaving the other behind to stare out into the night.  The remaining sentinel's silhouette struck Azura as familiar, and after a few moments she came to a conclusion and approached.

[color=007fff]”Captain Piper,”[/color] she began, her voice soft.  [color=007fff]”I should have expected you here.  I must confess that I do not have much knowledge of beings such as you, but the magical constructs of my world have no need of things like food or sleep.”[/color]  She fell silent for a time, then leveled the tip of her Blessed Lance at the mountain not too far off.  [color=007fff]”A short time ago, I was called again.  They called me 'the chosen one'.  I feel...like I have to go there.  Not rational, but a sort of...deep-seated urge.”[/color]  She gave the machine a slight, rather woebegone smile.  [color=007fff]”I am glad it is you that I met here.  You will not, I don't think, try to stop me.  If you are especially charitable, I would be grateful for accompaniment as well, but I ask nothing more than your leave.”[/color]  Azura offered a bowed head as if begging permission.