Layariel
It has been long since you have seen Edorion, you brother, and his trail has grown cold. The seer in the last elven tribe you visited foretold you that you might learn something about him from your distant relative, Naheniel. Until now you had not wanted to go there. No matter how obsessed you are with the telor, the rose-ears or humans as they call themselves, you had tried to remain a true elf. Not so Naheniel: she is really badoc, living her life as if she is one of the telor, even accepting some kind of title from them. Countess Naheniel Quellentanz is what she calls herself now and you are not even sure she would remember you as her second cousin.
In the absence of any other trail, though, you knew of no better option to follow the seer's suggestion and so you are on your way to castle Silz, where she lives in the Realm Forest. Now, you are just entering the edge of the forest and can still make out the fields behind a few rows of trees but before you, the path enters into a darker and denser copse. A small forest pond and you see a few wild geese; one bobbing on the water while two others are foraging in the grass nearby. Suddenly the geese look up and take wing as another wild goose comes flying at high speed, straight at you, honking loudly. Then it speaks with an elven voice: Quick, by Travia! By the Twelve! Help! and then flies off towards the north.
Natanaele
You made your escape on board the Unicorn of Belhanka. Somehow you impressed its captain when he asked you to demonstrate your prowess with the rapier and hired you on the spot for the journey from Belhanka to Havena. There, you took your pay and with the coins weighing down the lining on the inside of your cloak in the most satisfactory way, you considered where to go. Stay in Havena? That might have been good but captain Alessandra Calvacanti might send word back to people you'd rather avoid, so you made up your mind to go to Gareth, the largest city on the continent. There would be opportunities to make money and the crowds would hide you if it came to that.
Passing by the southern edge of the Realm Forest, you had heard that there was going to be a hunt tomorrow. Since you need a place for the night anyway and these gatherings are certain to bring many people who are too busy to mind their purse much this seemed as good a waypoint as any and so you are now trudging along a narrow track in the forest. Not what you're used to at all but pleasantly alone so you can think of your future. Just then, a wild goose comes down the path towards you, honking loudly. With a human voice, even with the characteristic accent of your native Fairfield it tells you urgently Quick, by Travia! By the Twelve! Help!. It turns around you and then flies off to where it came from.
Tjalva
You had tracked the whale-murderers down to the south where they tried to sell the liver oil. By Swafnir, you had put paid to that transaction! Those were five less who would commit the blasphemy of laying their hands on Swafnir's holy animal. But you had ended up so far from Thorwal; close to Gareth. You should maybe make your way back north or join a troop to fight. Against Al'Anfaner if possible, or maybe against those demon armies you keep on hearing about. For now, though, you have to admit that you're a little lost in a rather thick forest. Hadn't you seen that tree before? And that one? Bah, too many trees here and none suitable to lay a keel or erect a mast.
From a little track to your left you suddenly hear loud honking and soon a wild goose flies at you. Making a turn about your head it yells, in Thorwalian, Quick, by Travia! By the Twelve! Help! and flies back where it came from.
Arbosh
The High King had highly praised your work. Swords and axes of the best dwarven quality he had said, and those are weapons that are needed now in the shadowlands to fight against the remaining demons, the brigands and other evil that remained there after Borbarad was dealt with. From what you have heard in their dwarven cities, Galotta and Leonardo were as dangerous as Borbarad himself. It was an honor to forge weapons for the struggle of the Middle Realm and so you find yourself on the way east, closer to the front lines. Perhaps you would even get a chance to swing an axe?
For now, you are trudging alone through some forest. Your forge and your tools have been sent ahead by wagon and you were delayed a little by your friends. Ahead of you the forest grows lighter and you can already sense the fields that lay behind it. Flat fields, though. No mountains on this side, you would need to go as far as the Troll Peaks for that. Then suddenly there is the sound of wings and loud honking coming from behind you. Even before you can turn around to look, a wild goose circles you and cries in perfect Rogolan: Quick, by Travia! By the Twelve! Help!
OOC
Travia is the goddess of hearth and family. Coming from the part in Aventuria that worships the Twelve, Natanaele knows her. Thorwaler worship mainly Swafnir, the godly whale, but also know the Twelve, especially Travia. Elves do not worship the Twelve but Layariel may have heard of them in her dealings with humans. Dwarves are familiar enough with humans to know the Twelve even if they worship Angrosch. ETA: the wild goose is Travia's holy animal.
Your entrance in the story is geographically close but you can't hear or see each other just yet.
The stag is by xKyrillx and taken from deviantart. The name of ship and captain are taken from a forum post on dsaforum.de
