It is a wild storm, this night, with the soul-chilling rain sweeping down from
the mountains in sheets of pure spite cast forth from the mouth of hell and the
viciously howling laughter of a shrieking windsprite echoing through the
groaning forest, lashing at lonely travelers misfortunate enough to be without
shelter in such a gale.  A timbered doorway looms up from the darkness and I
hurriedly take shelter from the wind beside it.  In my pitiful state, I scarely
take notice of the strange symbols carved in the lintels. I knock firmly upon
the door and it swings open of its own accord, the illumination within spilling
outside with the warm air.

In the shadows of firelight cast by the flickering warmth of a vast hearth, a
dark misshape chuckles softly to itself.  "Come in, come in.  The storm shan't
cease just because the door stands open, nor shall your waiting hasten the
moonlight gleaming to light your path home.  Come in, and close the door behind
you."

"Who....wha..?"  I sputter meaninglessly.  "You seem vaguely familiar... but I
forget myself and my manners.  I am a traveller who seems to have been trapped
in these parts by the weather, really I'd planned to be much further along than
this.  Would it be too terribly presumptious of me to beg a night's lodging
here?"

A small figure cloaked in darkly shimmering silver-opal glides out of the
shadows and gestures to me in graceful motions that speak of waterfalls at
midnight, of the silent welcoming chill of starlight, and of watching waiting
wanting... sleek, coiled danger lurking behind lovely innocence.  "Nrasain,
jyarstad naev."

My hands suddenly gain a life of their own as they fluidly form movements that
somehow seem familiar, yet awkward as well.  I watch my hands in confusion as
they flow to a finish and I find myself bowing slightly in answer to the
beautiful young woman's... greeting?  Yes, greeting, for that's what that almost
certainly had to be.  Was that also an answer to my request?

She smiles brilliantly up at me and suddenly she is gone, vanished back to the
shadowed depths from whence she came forth.

Once more I am left startled and befuddled, only to turn at the sound of a peal
of pure liquid delight.  "'kaasan!"  A slim bundle of condensed sparkling energy
flings herself into my arms, spinning me clear around and resolving into a
gold-brown pigtailed minx with a pair of long, floppy bunny ears attached to her
head.  Which, of course, were quite at odds with the engine-grease warpaint
decorating her impish face.  "'member me, 'kaasan?  I'm Tessa!  'Roid's around
here somewhere too!  Heya, Dana!  'kaasan's here!"

Surely enough, I must of certainty be dreaming, for I am no mother.

A harsh chuckle and a sneering voice comes echoing from another corner. 
"'kaasan?  Ya right."  Another girl not much older or larger than the first
steps forward challengingly.  From her ragged brown hair and spitefully aloof
expression to her leather jacket and bewildering assortment of knives, she could
be no further at odds with this Tessa.  "Youse ain't my mother.  I's a BloodHawk
an' dey's da only fam I gots."  Golden eyes with reptillian pupils stare into my
own, clearly demanding some kind of response to her attitude.  

I only have a chance to blink intelligently before another voice answers the
defiant kid.  "Dana, be silent and someday you might attain the slightest
glimmer of wisdom."  The woman speaking was tall with intricate braids wrapped
around her head and her leather riding breeches were decorated with gilded
patterns.  Clearly, she was used to being in charge.  "Be welcome, honored
mother.  We owe you far more than a night's lodging.  Itaga, please bring your
mother some of that bread and stew."  




Molten gold ripples through the room on the rich tones of a harp.  "Feach, an'
tha'rt soaked clear t' th' skin, Mamai.  Come, sit down by th' fireside an' be
th'sl warmed.  Sure an' I' be a'spinnin' th' a tale, if th'sl be willin' t' be
a'listenin'."

I nod my acquiesence and am transported to faraway lands by the melodies as I
seat myself.  The stew is hot and spiced with things I have only dreamed of,
while the bread is soft and hearty.



I woke in a clearing, bathed in the sunlight of a glorious morning.  There was
no trace of the building I had fallen asleep in, or even of the bitter storm of
the night before.  Shouldering my pack


Muria
Vryie
Tessa
Dana
Correna
Achmuid
Yznobel
Marcy
Itaga