Dominaiscna
The Dreamer
<p>
<em>A line of warriors, merchants, and everyday men stretches long outside a grand establishment. Over the archway, a banner that speaks purpose hangs, proclaiming... in intricate calligraphy, “Ye who would save the princess, enter herein for examination.” At last you are inside. The candles flicker as a young scribe approaches you. His messy hair and tired eyes denote the fatigue of his work. He ushers you behind a yellow curtain that sections off a narrow space, one that contains only two small stools and a bare table. As he sits, he unfolds a scroll. With his quill poised over the ink bed, he surveys you from top to bottom, and bids you sit. As you settle in, he asks the first question.</em>
</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
<span style="font-size:22px;">Application of Intent to Retrieve the Stolen Princess</span>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your name?</em></strong> <em>" I was once named Lady Renata Grace of the Gallandar Knights...Though I doubt I deserve such a title, not anymore. It was a gift, but now it is more a curse that haunts me day and night. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your age?</em></strong> "<em> I will tell you what you have asked, it is 22, but do not make a judgement on the number of years I have existed for. After all, I have seen more than most will see in their lifetimes. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your height and weight?</em></strong> <em>" I was 5 foot and 6 inches the last time I measured. As for my weight... Perhaps around 126 lbs. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Did you bring a portrait? Good, give it here.</strong> The female produced a paper with a faint painting on its rough surface. For a moment, she scrutinized the womenly figure in the painting as if she were a disgraceful creature before she handed the paper to the scribe.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<a class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image" data-fileid="151520" href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/34231.jpg.2c8a2ef44fb64e31a4a1dbed6befd67f.jpg" rel="external nofollow"><img alt="34231.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" data-fileid="151520" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/34231.thumb.jpg.1557e33cc8a85c07160e265036954eec.jpg" /></a>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>He sets the portrait aside and begins to write, curling the scroll over his leg as his eyes glance up at you now and again. It dawns on you that he is writing a description of how you look.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>The person before me seems... </em></strong><em>burdened. Beneath her layers of protectives clothes is a thing frame holding up a fairly slender yet lean body. Though her posture is upright and correct, she is trembling. It would seem that there was a severe wound to her abdomen. It was recent and fatal but is healing wdll. There is also this tenseness in her shoulders... As if she were bearing some incredible weight on them. She seems at a lost, yet no where near broken. </em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their eyes is... </strong>hazel, but upon closer inspection, they appear to hold the faintest of golden flecks. Perhaps they would've been pretty had they not displayed such sorrowful a look and held such a feeling in their depths...regret?</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their skin... </strong>is just barely tanned. Perhaps, at one point, she was fair like the other ladies of her time with skin not riddled with the marks of war.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their hair?...</strong> the darkest of brown in the dim light sans any features of significance.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>The quill is set aside, the scribe leans back. There is a shift in the air. A new line of questioning begins.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>What motivates you to want to rescue the stolen princess?</strong> " There is a debt I must pay, a trust I must regain, an honor I must redeem and a friend I must save. " There is grimness in her voice as she speaks and her eyes cloud over as if replaying a dark memory. " I've failed to protect Her Highness in her greatest time of need so I will gladly do anything, even at the cost of my life, to bring her back. It is the least I can do, for her... And for myself. " It happened years before, when both Renata and the Princess were but small children. During a little outing, the Princess had bumped into a recently orphaned Renata. Finding the peculiar girl, she decided to take her new play mate with her home. Though it was against the court's wishes, they came to an agreement that Rena would serve under her Highness. Years passed and, despite the ever critic of the court, they remained friends under the pretence of servitude. In the hopes of repaying Her Highness, Rena trained to be both a knight and her hand maiden to both protect and serve her. Though she reached her goal at the Princess's side, she failed her sole task of protecting her when the creatures came. Renata had been mortally wounded and, through darkening vision, she watched the Princess get captured. " I owe my life to Her Highness. That... Is my motivation. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>What makes you necessary for the success of this venture?</strong></em> <em>" I was trained to protect Her Highness, from the day I learned to read and write. There is noone more suited to protect her Highness and fight for her and, though I failed once, I swear on the Eternal Coal that I will not fail again. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Your strengths and weaknesses, what are they?</strong> " I am one of the best duelists in the Kingdom. Though I have not much muscle nor strength to boast, I have my agility, speed and wits. I did not just get my place as Her Highness's body guard by my friendship with her ; I earned it all, through sweat and blood. As for my weaknesses, I currently have a weak point in my abdominal area where I was stabbed. It has not yet healed completely, and I doubt it ever will. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Give me a list of your equipment and the beasts of burden you own.</strong> " I have the longsword I was presented upon completing my training as a knight. To suit my needs, it is light, slender and long and bears the royal insignia in the steel. I too have two daggers, one crafted of stone.. Something in remembrance of my childhood. The other is made of steel with my name engraved in it.. A present from Her Highness on my birthday the year I decided to begin training. Elanor.. She was my horse, but I know not where she is now. We were separated during the attack. My poor beautiful steed... Please be safe out there."</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Does your family line bear any significance?</strong> " I knew not of my name nor my family's. I was named Renata by Her Highness after the french word for "reborn". As for Grace... As children, Her Highness thought me wuite graceful." A faint smile. "As for my family, I know not who nor where they are. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>Abruptly, the scribe stands. Fanning out the scroll, he nods to the door in clear indication that you should let yourself out. “Thank you for your time. We will be sure to send for you if any further lines of inquiry arise.”</em>
</p>
<em>A line of warriors, merchants, and everyday men stretches long outside a grand establishment. Over the archway, a banner that speaks purpose hangs, proclaiming... in intricate calligraphy, “Ye who would save the princess, enter herein for examination.” At last you are inside. The candles flicker as a young scribe approaches you. His messy hair and tired eyes denote the fatigue of his work. He ushers you behind a yellow curtain that sections off a narrow space, one that contains only two small stools and a bare table. As he sits, he unfolds a scroll. With his quill poised over the ink bed, he surveys you from top to bottom, and bids you sit. As you settle in, he asks the first question.</em>
</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
<span style="font-size:22px;">Application of Intent to Retrieve the Stolen Princess</span>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your name?</em></strong> <em>" I was once named Lady Renata Grace of the Gallandar Knights...Though I doubt I deserve such a title, not anymore. It was a gift, but now it is more a curse that haunts me day and night. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your age?</em></strong> "<em> I will tell you what you have asked, it is 22, but do not make a judgement on the number of years I have existed for. After all, I have seen more than most will see in their lifetimes. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>Your height and weight?</em></strong> <em>" I was 5 foot and 6 inches the last time I measured. As for my weight... Perhaps around 126 lbs. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Did you bring a portrait? Good, give it here.</strong> The female produced a paper with a faint painting on its rough surface. For a moment, she scrutinized the womenly figure in the painting as if she were a disgraceful creature before she handed the paper to the scribe.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<a class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image" data-fileid="151520" href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/34231.jpg.2c8a2ef44fb64e31a4a1dbed6befd67f.jpg" rel="external nofollow"><img alt="34231.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" data-fileid="151520" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_08/34231.thumb.jpg.1557e33cc8a85c07160e265036954eec.jpg" /></a>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>He sets the portrait aside and begins to write, curling the scroll over his leg as his eyes glance up at you now and again. It dawns on you that he is writing a description of how you look.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<strong><em>The person before me seems... </em></strong><em>burdened. Beneath her layers of protectives clothes is a thing frame holding up a fairly slender yet lean body. Though her posture is upright and correct, she is trembling. It would seem that there was a severe wound to her abdomen. It was recent and fatal but is healing wdll. There is also this tenseness in her shoulders... As if she were bearing some incredible weight on them. She seems at a lost, yet no where near broken. </em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their eyes is... </strong>hazel, but upon closer inspection, they appear to hold the faintest of golden flecks. Perhaps they would've been pretty had they not displayed such sorrowful a look and held such a feeling in their depths...regret?</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their skin... </strong>is just barely tanned. Perhaps, at one point, she was fair like the other ladies of her time with skin not riddled with the marks of war.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>The colour of their hair?...</strong> the darkest of brown in the dim light sans any features of significance.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>The quill is set aside, the scribe leans back. There is a shift in the air. A new line of questioning begins.</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>What motivates you to want to rescue the stolen princess?</strong> " There is a debt I must pay, a trust I must regain, an honor I must redeem and a friend I must save. " There is grimness in her voice as she speaks and her eyes cloud over as if replaying a dark memory. " I've failed to protect Her Highness in her greatest time of need so I will gladly do anything, even at the cost of my life, to bring her back. It is the least I can do, for her... And for myself. " It happened years before, when both Renata and the Princess were but small children. During a little outing, the Princess had bumped into a recently orphaned Renata. Finding the peculiar girl, she decided to take her new play mate with her home. Though it was against the court's wishes, they came to an agreement that Rena would serve under her Highness. Years passed and, despite the ever critic of the court, they remained friends under the pretence of servitude. In the hopes of repaying Her Highness, Rena trained to be both a knight and her hand maiden to both protect and serve her. Though she reached her goal at the Princess's side, she failed her sole task of protecting her when the creatures came. Renata had been mortally wounded and, through darkening vision, she watched the Princess get captured. " I owe my life to Her Highness. That... Is my motivation. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>What makes you necessary for the success of this venture?</strong></em> <em>" I was trained to protect Her Highness, from the day I learned to read and write. There is noone more suited to protect her Highness and fight for her and, though I failed once, I swear on the Eternal Coal that I will not fail again. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Your strengths and weaknesses, what are they?</strong> " I am one of the best duelists in the Kingdom. Though I have not much muscle nor strength to boast, I have my agility, speed and wits. I did not just get my place as Her Highness's body guard by my friendship with her ; I earned it all, through sweat and blood. As for my weaknesses, I currently have a weak point in my abdominal area where I was stabbed. It has not yet healed completely, and I doubt it ever will. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Give me a list of your equipment and the beasts of burden you own.</strong> " I have the longsword I was presented upon completing my training as a knight. To suit my needs, it is light, slender and long and bears the royal insignia in the steel. I too have two daggers, one crafted of stone.. Something in remembrance of my childhood. The other is made of steel with my name engraved in it.. A present from Her Highness on my birthday the year I decided to begin training. Elanor.. She was my horse, but I know not where she is now. We were separated during the attack. My poor beautiful steed... Please be safe out there."</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em><strong>Does your family line bear any significance?</strong> " I knew not of my name nor my family's. I was named Renata by Her Highness after the french word for "reborn". As for Grace... As children, Her Highness thought me wuite graceful." A faint smile. "As for my family, I know not who nor where they are. "</em>
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<em>Abruptly, the scribe stands. Fanning out the scroll, he nods to the door in clear indication that you should let yourself out. “Thank you for your time. We will be sure to send for you if any further lines of inquiry arise.”</em>
</p>
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