<<Sezen's bio and pic coming soon to the web site. Are your characters up there?>>
...Two days after the Inn's burning... Ingrid Hazen pulled back the curtain of the hired carriage as the driver called out "The Dragon Myst" and she thought she would surely suffer eye strain at the sight she saw. The older woman and her nineteen year old daughter, Sezen were the only two passengers that morning on the cross-country MystHaven-Brookshire public coach. A means of travel for those who did not have their own livestock and gear. Somehow, they'd missed the talk in downtown MystHaven: the damage done to the DragonMyst Inn set in the countryside. And Ingrid had told the driver they had business at both Brookshire and the inn, thus silencing the man further as they'd begun the journey. The Inn was in shambles. Oh sweet gods and goddesses, it resembled a piece of burnt toast on a plate of muddy jam! Ingrid sighed with despair. What would they do now? Their one-week stay had long since been paid in full, and as Ingrid heard Sezen gasping in alarm beside her, she knew that her delicate daughter could not stay here. The scent of smoke alone might bring on her spells. "Well, clearly we can't stay here...we'll just stop briefly to see about a return on our reservation...maybe the Brookshire orphanage could spare us a bed..." Ingrid murmured as the carriage came to a stop outside the inn. Meanwhile, Sezen blinked rapidly to dispel the tears that loomed in her royal blue eyes. The last time she'd seen the inn was such a precious memory that everything shined extra brightly about that day, standing in such stark contrast to the image before her now. Five months ago during the court festival activities, she had the experience of a lifetime meeting painter Jackson Jonas right there in the common room. That day had changed her life. That was the day, Sezen believes, Mr. Jonas painted her well. Yes, well, as in healthy. For five long years Sezen had been prone to shortness of breath, blackouts, and moments of shaking that would leave her incapacitated for hours with a mild spell, days with a bad one. Each bad spell seemed to steal a bit more of her spirit. When her illness caught the attention of the medical scholars at the isle's only university, her mother was grateful for the protection from the overly religious types seeking to "take the demon out" of her daughter. The scholars could do little for her, but they did enjoy presenting her to others and discussing in near wager format how long they thought the girl had to live. However, Sezen hasn't had a spell since that day Jackson Jonas painted her and now that she's well, the scholars don't want to know anything about her. Of course most insist the illness is just mysteriously dormant after five years and her mother believes them, for fear of giving in to the false hope that her daughter might live. Sezen on the other hand, remains determined to prove them all wrong. It would just take a bit of time. Ingrid and Sezen had travelled north this week because they had obligations with the Widows & Orphans Society, a charity they had benefited greatly from since Chaz Hazen died mysteriously several years ago. All this year Sezen had crafted candles, and she intended to sell them during WinterFest to benefit the charity. It was with a quiet determination that Sezen soon followed her mother down from the carriage, her long blonde braid sliding down the back of her brown wool cloak as she looked around at the destruction. Ingrid was already off, inquiring for the Innkeeper. "Oh no Mother, we must stay. I'm certain there is something we can do here to help..." Sezen whispered with resolve. -- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://www.dragonmyst.f2s.com/lists.php3
