Spoiler: For Ancient
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Quote Originally Posted by Ancient View Post
It was all a simple misunderstanding, really. The man had paid, quite generously, for a piece of paper. What the man thought the paper promised, and what the paper really said, were another matter entirely, but it certainly wasn't Amelie's job to ensure the man was properly literate, nor was it her duty to properly explain to the man that refunds certainly not done. That is when Cheyanne intervened, simply asking what the problem was and reassuring the simpleton that it could all be worked out, like there was a cure for loutishness. THAT, was when the man, had called Miss Julus a name, a rather uncharitable name, and to mind her own, thrice-damned half blood business. So, Miss Julus promptly broke the man's jaw, and all sorts of chaos erupted. Cheyanne didn't see the knife coming for her, but I, being used to such sorts of chicanery, did. I removed the would be stabber from the fight with a well placed kick to the nethers, but unfortunately recieved a broken bottle in my side from yet another of the man's neverending supply of associates. Really, if the man had half as much brains as he did lackwits, all of this would have never transpired. Needless to say, after the fight, Cheyanne put a kind touch to the wound and all was better, and we, have been watching each others back ever since.
Cheyanne is not a Paladin yet, in spite of what our DM said. Monk 2 so far, so no Lay on Hands.

As for the rest, I like it. Once Cheyanne's 'voice' is more familiar it will be easier to work quotes, but the basic idea is solid.

Cheyanne was never very good at meditation - "inner peace" just wasn't her thing and it took so long! - but she tried every morning. The mists on the edge of the woods near Kolton were particularly thick and cloying as the sun peeked over the horizon and in spite of her efforts to harden herself against the elements Cheyanne shivered. Her eyes were still closed as she tried to focus her mind and direct her thoughts inward, but the constant chill was making it difficult.

Perhaps that's why she didn't notice the three men sneaking up on her, their intent obviously hostile. The detail-oriented observer might note several bruises, a broken nose, and a jaw wired shut - all souvenirs from the previous night's barfight where Cheyanne had met Amelie. (Wait! Miss Pentagrast, Cheyanne would have corrected herself.) As the female monk sat and the men crept a fourth figure appeared from the woods and with some deliberately loud steps walked towards the cross-legged woman. This new figure looked like a seasoned warrior - breastplate and axe and flail - and Cheyanne opened one eye to look in his direction as he approached.

He got to about ten yards from Cheyanne, saying nothing, just staring back over her shoulder at the trio, who had all stopped. All semblance of concentration lost, Cheyanne turned to look in the direction of the town and saw her would-be attackers. "Oh come on! Wasn't it bad enough losing to me last night? Go home, you three - you've already ruined my morning meditation!" she admonishes them, calling as she twists at the waste and raises an eyebrow questioningly. Looking between here and the new man, the three grumble and turn away, walking sullenly back into town.

Turning to the new man, Cheyanne rose in a short series of intermediate positions and bowed at the waist - a graceful series of movements that showed off her lean muscle and balance. "Thank you for warning me, good sir. My name is Cheyanne Julus. Who are you?"

Ted Hundred answered and the two spoke for several minutes before he continued on his way into the city on private business. Cheyanne watched him go as she performed her stances and forms, memorizing his appearance, name, and the sound of his voice. She was sure she could recognize him again and repay his timely presence sometime soon...