I. Cecelia has heard of dragons, of course. They're the monsters in stories that kidnap a princess and then a brave knight comes to slaughter it and rescue her. And when she landed in this strange world with the green glow in her hand, she learned that dragons supposedly existed here. But hearing about dragons and being prepared to see one are two different things. The screech it lets out as it flies overhead chills her to the bone, and she can't move for fright.
Someone really should instruct her to move before she's eaten.
II. Taverns are rowdy places for the working class to gather and drink away their coin. At least that was what her father had often said, as he was a landed gentleman and could say what he liked. But Cecelia is far from a gentleman's daughter here. She's a rifter, an outsider, and she admits to a bit of curiosity about what a tavern is like. When she sees other Inquisition agents enter, she slips in behind them, a small slip of a woman the height of most elves. Her eyes dart around, and she hopes for some guidance on what to order.
"I do beg your pardon, but what is it you have there?" she asks, nodding towards your drink.
V. If not for her husband, Cecelia wouldn't be a werewolf. But she knows what the change does to the mind and his biting her was never his intent. It's certainly not her intent here to bite anyone either, but with the full moon comes the loss of her human mind, and she needs to get as far away from people as possible so she doesn't hurt them. Back home they had a cellar with cages and a staff who knew their secret. Here she's alone and can't trust this secret to anyone.
And yet the intrepid explorer on the mountain tonight will hear the howls. Hopefully that will be enough to scare them away. If not, a very large wolf is hunting them down.
Cecelia Wynn | OC (Regency-era Werewolf what what) | Rifter
Cecelia has heard of dragons, of course. They're the monsters in stories that kidnap a princess and then a brave knight comes to slaughter it and rescue her. And when she landed in this strange world with the green glow in her hand, she learned that dragons supposedly existed here. But hearing about dragons and being prepared to see one are two different things. The screech it lets out as it flies overhead chills her to the bone, and she can't move for fright.
Someone really should instruct her to move before she's eaten.
II.
Taverns are rowdy places for the working class to gather and drink away their coin. At least that was what her father had often said, as he was a landed gentleman and could say what he liked. But Cecelia is far from a gentleman's daughter here. She's a rifter, an outsider, and she admits to a bit of curiosity about what a tavern is like. When she sees other Inquisition agents enter, she slips in behind them, a small slip of a woman the height of most elves. Her eyes dart around, and she hopes for some guidance on what to order.
"I do beg your pardon, but what is it you have there?" she asks, nodding towards your drink.
V.
If not for her husband, Cecelia wouldn't be a werewolf. But she knows what the change does to the mind and his biting her was never his intent. It's certainly not her intent here to bite anyone either, but with the full moon comes the loss of her human mind, and she needs to get as far away from people as possible so she doesn't hurt them. Back home they had a cellar with cages and a staff who knew their secret. Here she's alone and can't trust this secret to anyone.
And yet the intrepid explorer on the mountain tonight will hear the howls. Hopefully that will be enough to scare them away. If not, a very large wolf is hunting them down.