[centre][color=fff79a][h1]Lairëcúma the Bard[/h1][/color][/centre]
[centre][img]https://i.postimg.cc/XvwNBn1f/lairecuma.png[/img][/centre]
[hr][right][code] The Waystone Inn - Outside
Interactions: Scene Setting - Random NPCs - Anyone who'll listen really
Outfit: Tattered White Dress[/code][/right][hr]

Lairëcúma wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her face smudged with soot from the fires now burning through the remnants of the winter town as she watched [i]Addring[/i], surrounded by strangers, taking up the strain of a rope holding a shattered crossbeam and the debris fallen across it while people struggled beneath it to dig out the debris.

Leaving [i]Addring[/i] in the company of strangers left a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She loved that animal so.

Her eyes trailed off down the streets lined with shattered buildings and broken bodies. Two hundred years she'd wandered the lands of Faerun. Lairëcúma had seen this sight before. If she closed her eyes it was like travelling back in time through centuries, only it had been another person then, another her. There were a thousand things she'd wished she'd known then, yet still finding herself here once again, she felt the familiar helplessness returning.

She knew exactly what needed to be done.

And she knew she couldn't do it all, and even if she did, it still wouldn't be enough. She was only one person, with one set of hands, and one voice and she knew from experience this would only grow worse over the coming days. 

She knew this, and forced herself to smile as her eyes and attention returned to the matter at hand. One thing at a time. That was the only way through - come what may. And with that thought Lairëcúma forced herself to smile.

[color=fff79a]"I'm going to show you something now children!"[/color] She fixed the little ones that had arrived with their brother, or uncle, or whoever she'd sent to go help pull that buried man from the rubble. [color=fff79a]"We're going to be needing bandages for people who are hurt. Very many of them. So we're going to be tearing them from whatever cloth we can find: like [i]this[/i]!"[/color]

Lairëcúma made a show of kicking up her left heel, and tearing away a strip of cloth from the hem of her white dress now that she'd doffed her riding cloak and tied it about her waist. She bent and tore away large strips of her skirts and the sleeves of her dress to leave the children something to get started with. [color=fff79a]"Long, and thin, just like I'm showing you."[/color] She showed them, holding it up for them to see. [color=fff79a]"I'll have people bring whatever cloth we can spare. You just keep tearing up strips. Yes that's wonderful!"[/color]

Lairëcúma's smile brightened as the children nodded up at her, but faded immediately as she turned away from them heading back towards the entrance of the inn, leaning against the doorframe as she leaned inside. [color=fff79a]"We could use some help gathering whatever supplies can be recovered. And whatever strong spirits is left, we'll need it for the wounded. There's not nearly enough healing magic to go around."[/color]