After five minutes of trekking through Salquedor, grass got old to look at. Really, really old. After five hours of trekking through Salquedor, Natayla thought it safe to say she’d be content if she never saw grass again. Saddled atop the back of a horse she stole from a stable in Estolad, the young wanderer hungered for the bleak gray of cobblestone once more. She thought of drunkards stumbling out of taverns, children with dirty faces and shabby clothes begging on street corners, rats bigger than dogs scuttling beside her feet. Even the bleakest, most depraved aspects of city life were a beacon of hope to her in this barren, seemingly never ending sea of green.

Like most travelers forced to endure the grasslands, Natayla was headed for Lómëdor, but the darkening sky and slowed movements of her horse made it painfully obvious she wouldn’t reach the city as soon as she hoped. Natayla wasn’t fool enough to continue her travels at night; Salquedor was a notorious haunt for bandits and rogues. Just because Natayla was a thief herself didn’t mean she was any less wary of her kind. In fact, knowing the mechanics of how a thieves mind worked first hand gave her even more of a reason to fear them. She could carelessly press her dagger against a man’s throat and rob him blind, but never murdered one of her victims and prayed to the gods she wouldn’t one day have to. Natayla knew that the majority of rogues could end the life of another without even batting an eye, however, and eat breakfast afterward with the money they stole.

Yes, a young woman riding alone at night had the potential to draw plenty of unwanted attention. She’d practically be waving a flashing, neon sign in the air that read, ‘Hello, I’m a young and defenseless female! Come rob me please!’

All right, not completely defenseless. Not while her dagger was safely sheathed at her side, anyway. She had a mean left hook too apparently and lungs that could make even a banshee bow their head and cover their ears. Most of the time, Natayla was simply capable of slipping out of trouble with a pretty smile.

As the horse ambled wearily along a dirt path, a small pocket of woods in the distance caught her eye. Finally, something other than grass! She’d never been so happy to see a bunch of trees in her life. Natayla steered the horse toward the woods, finding it to be a suitable place to rest for the night, the canopies looming over her offering much needed shade. Upon finding a peaceful, secluded grove, she dismounted off the horses back and tethered the creature to the trunk of a tree.

In the east, situated barely above the horizon, a point of light could be seen, even as the cool blue of evening crept up over the horizon. The first star of the evening. The red-wanderer leant back, stretching catlike, and looked out of Salquedors' grasslands, and he felt a deep-seated joy bubble up within him.

For amongst the sea of green he discerned the little veins of lusher green where the little rivulets coursed, their waters choked by the greedy grasses and cress; but where the most delicious crayfishes could be foraged with ease. Here and there could be seen the rooting of herds of wild pigs; the narrow furrowed tracks of deer. This was a living haven for any free man. A veritable city of free things. Set a little deeper into the stand of trees behind, Curin had erected a semi-permanent camp. He had fashioned a crude oven out of stacked squares of sod, and made a terracotta hotplate, upon which the flesh of quails was steadily sizzling, tossed with wild sage, and a shapeless tuber he had found.

From afar the ripple could be seen as it approached, as a fresh breeze blew into the red wanderers face, filled with the scent of the grasslands, flinty and clean. And upon this wind came rumour of a horse; and Curin of Neiruthaun looked back to see if any smoke from his oven could be seen- which, to his comfort, it could not.

Seemingly unaware of him, or of his camp, the rider passed him by, and moved to the clearing right beside that of Curins' own camp. The rider tethered her horse, and looked about herself, taking stock of her position. Curin discerned that she mant no one any harm. But he wondered what a wanderer could be dong, so far from the path to Ondolond, if that indeed could be guessed to be their purpose. He waited an uneasy moment until the rider became clearer to sight; and when he knew that he too could be seen he held up his hand, leaning with his spare hand against his axe. So that it would be plainly seen he meant no harm. He peered at the rider, unable to see clearly. "Hail! I am Curin of Neiruthaun. You have passed deep into the pathless downs. Are you lost? Or wandering free? What business have you in the grasslands?"

Cinaed knew not where he went, only that he went. The events of the night before were as gruesome to him as to those whom had been victemized by the Dragoon leader who accompanied Cinaed on his endeavors out of the Underdark. He managed to excape the patronizing Dark Elf and his squad of knights, stealing the sword they gave him when it was time to once more fight or die. Now, with the blade that his hand had grown so accustomed to over the last century and a half, he fled as quickly as he could away from their camp, putting leagues between himself and the Dragoon over the two nights he had run, stopping only in the day time to avoid the torturous sun and to fill his empty stomach with substance.

With fast and long strides he soared across the lands, wanting no more than to be rid of his captors for as long as possible, and soon enough he had reemerged into the forest. His golden eyes looked into the sky, gazing to the moon; the night was still young, and his legs had begun to ache. His heart pounded against the inside of his chest, yet he kept going; eager to prolong his freedom. With legs like the wings of a hawk, and a breath like the spirit of a wolf, he continued on, though even he had his limits.

He gradually slowed down to a jogging pace, checking over his shoulders gradually. Though, he was unsure they would catch up that quickly; they may be elves, but Cinaed was more athletic than any of them. Besides, they were bulked by their heavy armour. Still, Cinaed checked, his hand ready to grab the hilt of his sword as quickly as needed. However, it was infront of him where a spark of interest lay. His infravision caught the signatures of heat; alot of it. He could have sworn there was a stove not to far ahead. As he came closer, he found that there was, thankfully, only one person there.

And then, not far to the right came trotting the presence of a woman and her steed. Mindedly, she dismounted close enough to join the first camp, yet seemed quite impartial to its existence. Perhaps two travellors who were in a bit of a quarrel. Yet that was unimportant to the Drow. Maybe they could help him.

With an innate elven stealth, he crept behind the trees and shadows, watching as the man stood and moved to the lady. His voice boomed, yet it was a language that Cinaed was vaguely familiar with. He was, however, able to get the just of his inquiry. He decided to remain apart for now; he would allow them to get acquainted before he made his presence known.

Rièle had spent the day wandering the Taurai Woods. The forest was undergoing change as riparian aspen trees became increasingly sparse and scattered amongst the many pines. But where the deciduous trees still persisted life-giving sunlight was able to pass through the dense branches of the canopy to reach the forest floor below. This aspect of the forest allowed a diverse understory to grow beneath the trees. This understory, combined with richer soils due to the increased amount of light, supported a diverse community of plants and animals not found in older forests. A cornucopia of colorful birds sang and flitted about in the trees and shrubs, while small voles and mice ran about on the forest floor. Rièle knew that in less than decades the woods would burn, and the aspen groves would regrow and dominate the landscape until the pines grew tall again.

She walked slowly, often stopping to observe new sights, or the behaviors of animals around her. Often she stood still for the better part of an hour, knowing with some residual instinct how to make herself blend in with her surroundings and remain so still that the animals didn't notice her presence. As she walked she nibbled wild berries, leaves, and mushrooms, along with some salted beef that she'd bartered from a passing tradesman the previous day. The water in the streams was clear and fresh, and when she was thirsty she drank eagerly from their waters.

Her purpose in this place was one of profession, she sought plants and herbs for use in potions. So far as a human she'd learned that she needed a continuous supply of items to trade, in order to have money available to purchase food. Over the past few weeks she'd continually run out of ingredients and had found that where people tended to abide, ingredients were sparse. Her hope was to replenish her stores enough to last her weeks, so that she could focus her activities on more important matters.

Unfortunately, Rièle suffered from the human tendency to let her mind wander. As the afternoon dwindled on and her eyes developed a search image for the plants she needed, she allowed her thoughts to drift while her eyes searched the forest floor. She considered whether an eurideum should be in the same family as a galathium, and whether a cross between two shades of nightflower were likely to produce a more toxic variety. She thought about the ecology of the woods around her, and whether promoting an increase in the hunting of deer would help the native plants compete against the introduced species growing there. She hummed a song she'd learned a few days ago, and struggled to remember the second line of the chorus. Finally, and most importantly, she wondered whether she should seek out allies to help her with her quest, or attempt to gain the information and abilities she needed for herself and face the task alone.

The day grew late. Distracted in her reverie Rièle consciously began compensating for the growing lack of light, without ever realizing that it was getting dark. She continued to find valuable plants, and her thoughts were miles away. Finally, she ran into a tree.

Ow...

As she recovered, it occurred to her that she didn't particularly want to spend the night in the middle of the dark woods alone without anything to eat except berries and mushrooms. She looked around. Was that the stream that ran north along the western border of the woods, or east back to the road? Given that the sun is setting in that direction... this stream runs north by west.

Crap.

Sighing in irritation with herself, Rièle proceeded east. Fortunately these woods had an end, and it was definitely in this direction. With luck she would reach the edge before the sun went down, and she might be able to find the road.

Less than an hour later Rièle was heading down a hillside toward what she was fairly certain was the edge of the woods. She walked quickly and quietly through the bushes, inwardly relieved that the light around her was increasing as the terrain evened out and the trees gradually thinned. She wasn't sure exactly where she would emerge along the road, but at least from here she would be able to find her way. If she spent the night on the roadside she was sure to run into more traders in the morning, and hopefully she wouldn't go hungry for too long.

The peaceful silence of the day was broken by an unnatural noise that pierced the evening air. Rièle stopped and listened. It was a man's voice, but she hadn't caught the words. The source of the voice was not too distant, likely only a few minutes' walk. After a few moments of consideration, she walked towards it.

There was a camp, and a man and a woman were doing something a short distance away that Rièle couldn't see. She presumed they would return. There was a strange structure in the middle of the camp, with something that smelled tantalizingly good cooking on the top. Rièle wondered if they had enough to share. It smelled so good that she allowed her stomach to leap to the decision ahead of her normally more cautious mind. She emerged at the edge of the clearing and stood near the road, waiting for the humans to return and notice her.

(OOC: Really sorry, I don't want to get warned or banned so I have to stop posting with this character. I put a lot of effort into edits and explanations that she's just intended for tagging along and basic character interaction, but the mods say I'm in violation of the rules. If anyone thinks they can help I'd really appreciate it, I'm at a total loss RP'ing on this site. :( )