“Look, I understand they’s not respectful but they’s the customers and they’s bring coin in. If you gonna clock them all in the head you’re out, sorry.” The red faced barkeep was doing his best to stay calm and collected. She had lost him a table full of patrons and who knew how many were watching that would not be coming back simply over how she had acted today. This was not the first job she had been thrown out of. At every tavern and inn they wanted her working as a barmaid to attract coin with her pretty face. She didn’t much like having her bum slapped or being grabbed around the waist without warning.
 
“Well if it’s all the same to you, I have higher dignity than to keep a job letting arses like that grope me and use me like a possession. I’s got greater respect for myself than that.” The barkeep spit and nodded and turned around to go back inside. The rain was driving out today and he left her standing there with what crescents he owed her for the work she had accomplished that day. Bryndis gathered her bow and quiver and small satchel of goods and left.
 
There was no home to go to- not really. She had been bargaining with the innkeeper or barkeepers to let her sleep in some open room even if it was one way up under the thatched roof and it dripped. She didn’t mind. It was just sleeping after all, she wasn’t doing much of else to need a house. But she had been studying the rumors and the rumors were there was a Huntress that was a Goddess and that she could be found in the most peculiar of ways.
 
She made her way out to an open hill and then she could smell it- the salt marsh that wasn’t there. Bryndis cut her hand with a dagger and let the blood flow out as offering to the ground. She thought of the place- the Wild Lands they called it- and then suddenly when she looked back she saw an ocean, not a town. Ahead she saw a rolling heath and a forest. It took her time to make her way to the forest. By the time she was there, it was getting dark. There were white stone paths and she was finding these paths led to settlements.
 
When at one she asked how to find the Goddess. They all chuckled at her and told her to follow the black stones. So, she began searching for black stone until the found a path that led to a bigger path where all the smaller paths met. She was brought out to a stone henge that looked like the night sky. In the distance there was mountains and facing away from the mountains was an empty chair that looked of pure metal and gems. “Don’t tell me I made it all this way and she’s gone,” she murmured,

She always knew when someone set foot in her realm.  Moliira was not at the circle of stones when her visitor arrived, but that was on purpose.  She wanted to see just how this guest would react, and how she would take to her realm.  The girl seemed human, but something else as well.  That was interesting.  The little human made her way through the paths, asked questions, and finally found her way to the circle of stones.  "Well, that all depends on just who the 'she' is that you would like to meet, little human.  I can guess though," she said, appearing from the shadows.  The words were surprisingly well formed, considering they came from a wolf's mouth.  For now, Moliira chose to take on the form of the Storm Wolf, a massive lupine creature with silvery white fur and blue gray eyes reminiscent of storm clouds.  Tiny sparks danced between the hairs, giving the whole wolf a shimmering appearance in the night. 

Pacing around the human for a moment, she went to sit at the foot of the chair.  "She doesn't always appear, the Huntress is… rather whimsical at times.  Perhaps I can help you though?  The Huntress does trust me to greet strangers," the wolf added with a fang filled grin.  It was clear that she was also quite willing to deal with whatever threats might find there way into Maral'hal as well. 

[Apologies for the length, still working out a funk.]

Bryndis didn’t know how Gods and Goddesses worked. She didn’t know if the Huntress knew when she entered the realm or even knew now that she stood before her throne. Right now all she knew was that her leathers and the clothes beneath them were drenched from walking in the pouring rain. Even the dark wood of Santsorg was wet and creaked with its pores full of water as she moved. Even its dangerous arrows were yet slick from the downpour. She was certain her light brown hair was a frazzled mess.
 
There was a voice in the shadows, a predatory voice, and in an instant she had pulled back one of the slippery arrows and had Santsorg knocked and ready to fire at the shadowy mess from which the voice came. When it arose from the shadows as a wolf, Bryndis lowered her weapon and stuck the arrow back in its quiver though she was not sure why. This was no natural wolf. The silvery gray color seemed unnatural and the small electrical charges dancing around its fur was certainly not natural. Its eyes were almost alien- a blue gray that was only seen in clouds of great storms.
 
“I’m here to see the Huntress. But you say you already can guess.” Her own blue eyes followed the wolf as it came around and sat on its haunches before the throne that held no Goddess. The wolf offered to help and for a moment Bryndis narrowed her eyes. She could have sworn in the rumors that among the Huntress the Goddess was also known as the Storm Wolf. Given the canine’s stormy eyes and the electricity in her pelt, she thought for a moment that perhaps this could be the Goddess.
 
“Ya sure you ain’t her? Folks also says she’s a Storm Wolf. And here you are with your eyes looking like storm clouds and your fur snapping electricity. Now I ain’t calling you a liar but I am sayin’ it’s a rather large coincidence.” Bryndis smiled, not wanting to offend the creature for if she did there was little to stop it from mauling her to death or whatever it was that creatures like her did.

[Sorry that probably wasn't the best either, still acclimating to this character]

Her reaction satisfied Moliira, it showed that the girl was wary and watchful.  It was something that the Huntress could appreciate, some dropped their guard in a place they thought to be safe.  "And I guessed correctly.  Some come here seeking refuge, others looking for the rare things that can be found here.  But many are like you," she said, settling in front of the throne.  A deep rumbling chuckle came from the wolf's throat when the woman asked if she was sure about not being the Huntress.  It was nice to know that her name was getting out, Moliira was rather enjoying this new world. 

"No, you are not a liar.  I just enjoy seeing how people react when they come across what they do not expect.  Many do not expect to meet an actual wolf," she said with a toothy grin.  Not entirely in a mood to shift back just yet, she realized it had been entirely far too long since she had worn her lupine skin.  Moliira studied the girl again for a moment, the bow was interesting.  And there was something about her essence that was unique, something that she had yet to encounter here.  "The weapon that you carry, it is interesting.  Tell me a bit about it.  And yourself, for that matter," she requested.  She could have demanded the information, or compelled it, but the drow was in a friendly mood.  And there was nothing threatening to Moliira's senses in this realm. 

A half elf male appeared in the circle, bearing bread, cheese and roasted duck on a platter.  A woman with a pitcher soon followed.  Placing it near the wolf, he spoke to the woman.  "The pitcher contains elvish cider, if you wish something else, we will see what we can do," he said, before bowing to the wolf with his companion and leaving.  Shifting back to her drowish form, Moliira helped herself to the offerings and gestured for her guest to do the same. 

Bryndis was interested in what other people might come here for. It was interesting that some came here seeking refuge but it wasn’t surprising. If you had a Goddess watching over you it very well might be one of the safest places to be. The wolf that she assumed was a she based on her voice, also mentioned that there were rare things that could be found here that people sought. For a moment she wondered what those were and if she found them could she sell them for money? After all she had no job and no real home. “Well the way I sees it, you ought meet and talk to someone before taking any refuge in their lands.” She smiled wryly.
 
The wolf let out a rumbling sound that sounded something like a laugh. It must have meant that she was either right about her being the Goddess or she was embarrassingly wrong about it. But when the wolf spoke again, it seemed that she was right in her assumption. The creature before her was the Goddess indeed. The Goddess was certainly right though. Not many people likely came to her domain expecting to see a wolf, especially one as interesting looking as her. Surely it threw most people for a loop.
 
Bryndis bowed her head politely to the Goddess. “It is a pleasure to meets a Goddess like yourself. It’s an honor it is.” It was not meant as flattery. It was true in her eyes. It would be the same if she were meeting some high fancy noble man or woman. Only this was even more so for a Goddess was certainly greater than either of these. Then the Goddess asked her of her weapon- her bow- and what it does remarking that it was interesting. Obviously she had some supernatural senses.
 
She took the bow from her back and presented it to be looked at. The bow was made of dark and twisted yew wood from Koschei Forest. It was oiled to nearly black and the string was taught and frequently adjusted. “Ah this here is Santsorg, it means true sorrow. It’s was made from some twisted and warped yew wood from Koschei forest. It ended up cursing the whole bloody weapon itself. One arrow from this can instill such a deep sorrow in someone that theys end their lives before giving in to injuries.”
 
After an appropriate amount of time had passed for the Goddess to examine the bow, Bryndis took it and hung it from her back once more. “Me? There ain’t much interestin’ about me. I grew up with a loving ma and a dad who liked to use his fist. I learned archery when I got older as a means of defendin’ myself. I tried to get out early and been working odd jobs ever since. Mostly working at taverns, though I keep getting meself fired because I ain’t one for have my bottom slapped.” Her face scrunched up in disgust at the thought of the matter. She got herself a glass of cider and thanked the servants and drank a bit of it finding it to be much better than any cider she had tasted before.

She nodded, it was a good way to approach things, especially if one was going to be dependent in any manner on hospitality.  "Smart girl," Moliira commented.  And Bryndis did know her manners, another good sign.  Perhaps the drow could use this one in some manner too.  But first things first, Moliira preferred to show her own sense of hospitality.  Her eyes lit on the weapon when she was present with it, and Moliira took it with careful hands.  It was only respectful, and the drow examined it while Bryndis described it.  There was an interesting story to the bow, and she had a feeling that it was used in a very effective manner.  There was a tingle from the bow, and Moliira knew that she spoke true.

"A weapon like this is something to be cherished, and I can see that you take care of it," Moliira said as she handed it back.  "Take care of Santsorg, and it will take care of you.  But I have a feeling that you already knew that," the drow added with a smile.  Her eyes narrowed just a touch when Bryndis insisted there was nothing interesting about her, Moliira had never found that to be true about anyone.  But it was also difficult to point that out to come people.  In her experience, it was people like the young woman before her that tended to surprise the most. 

Chuckling at the mention of having her bottom slapped, that little bit of information told Moliira a little more of what she needed to know.  "Well now.  That is something to always remember about yourself.  You have enough pride in yourself that you left a situation you did not like.  Always have enough pride in yourself to never be taken advantage of," she offered, it had been sound advice for her for a long time.  There was a certain amount of pride that had always carried her through the difficult points in her life.  Taking a bit of the food for herself, Moliira chewed for a moment before adding something else.  "So tell me, Bryndis.  Why seek me out?" she asked, a curious tone to her voice.

Short of going back to some grimy tavern and getting groped, slapped on the bum, and otherwise felt up in her efforts to simply serve drink and food at the establishment, Bryndis had no where else to go. She did not want to go back to working at a tavern where the men patrons of the establishment thought a swift slap on the bottom or a feel of her breast sufficed for a tip for her, as if she and any of her fellow barmaids enjoyed their handsy attitudes. Well, perhaps there were a few who might but they were the same ones that sometimes moonlighted at brothels.
 
Bryndis smiled sheepishly and looked down at the dirt that she scuffed at with her boot when the Goddess complimented her on her smarts. It wasn’t something she was used to. Working in taverns and being around the rough folk she was around, well they didn’t exactly prize smarts. They prized a good bottom, big breasts, and a flirty personality. While she might have had two of those things, she certainly was not a flirt. She never had been and certainly wasn’t going to let the need for coin drive her to being as bad as those brothel girls.
 
“Thanks me Lady. I do my best. I may not be no scholar but I ain’t no brothel woman either.” She made the statement with a sense of pride. As it stood, a girl that came from a poor home and to even poorer circumstances in life should have turned to a life of easy money. But no, Bryndis had pride in herself and so she would not delve that low, not now. It was why she found herself here beseeching the Goddess wanting some kind of work, any work, that she could take pride in.
 
When the Goddess mentioned that Santsorg appeared to be a well-taken care of weapon, Bryndis nodded in response. Her smiled only widened when the Goddess remarked that if she took care of her weapon it would take care of her. “Od course, me Huntress. I oil him up every night all nice and shiny and of course to keep the special wood in tact. It’s what keeps the curse going. And I replace or tighten up the bowstring. Sharpen his arrows and give them a nice rub down too. Hasn’t failed me yet. And I hope it never does. Only use ‘im if I’m in pretty bad trouble.” After all, you couldn’t go willy nilly inflicting such great sorrow on others for no good reason.
 
Thie Goddess seemed to realize how important pride was to her and perhaps, just maybe, it was because pride was something she valued too. It wouldn’t be that surprising. Drow were proud people or so that was the talk of the tavern folk, which was sometimes right. “Well, Goddess, that be exactly why I’m here, ye see? I need to do something with my life worth a damn. All’s I’m good fer most places is being some prettiied up bartender getting passed around the tavern like a piece o’ meat. But you. You are the Huntress and surely you need faithful servants to help you and do work for you. If I wasn’t so proud I might beg.” Then she laughed. “Still might.”

"Sometimes street smarts can serve you better than book learning.  Something I found out a long time ago," the drow said with a chuckle.  There was pride in the girl's voice, and that was good.  She seemed to be the type to be set on a path, and one who would follow it to her dying days.  Moliira had a feeling that the girl's path had not been an easy one so far.  And if she chose to follow the Huntress, that it would still not be easy.  But there would at least be a purpose to it. 

When Bryndis told her of the care put into the weapon, Moliira nodded.  That was a good answer, and it was one that she found satisfactory.  And it showed she had good sense in that she wasn't shooting off arrows all the time.  Though it did bring up an interesting question to the drow's mind.  "So is it only capable of shooting those sorrow filled arrows, or can you just shoot arrow normally from Santsorg?" Moliira asked.  It would be interesting to know just how the weapon worked, and if Bryndis could manipulate it even a little to her will.  And if not, then perhaps Moliira would be able to assist her with that.  After all, she did have at least a passing familiarity with magical weapons.

A slight smile crossed her face when the girl all but asked for a place within her faithful.  While she did not have an organized church as some of her cohorts, Moliira did keep a loosely based group of rangers, druids and other stewards of the wild places.  And just perhaps this girl could find her place among them.  "Well, first off you will have to prove yourself.  It would be careless of me to send you somewhere to protect if I wasn't sure that you were ready," Moliira said, the smile turning slightly mischievous.  Already, there were a few things she could think of this girl would have to learn, and be able to do before she was willing to release Bryndis into the world in her own name.  But first, she would have to see just what the girl could already do. 

A wolf appeared from the gloom of the forest, and sat by Moliira.  Her golden eyes contrasted with her white coat, and the tundra wolf gazed calmly at the girl.  "I've told Szorafay here a secret.  And you need to learn it.  Either by reading her body language, and asking her to help, or by speaking her tongue.  I can help you learn either language," Moliira said.  Being able to communicate with the wild would be very important, and it was something the drow knew could be very useful in many situations.