Taalia Giovanni

Taalia was not a priestess, nor did she know any of the restful words of Morr to help consign a body and spirit to the world that came beyond the material plane upon which they lived. Nevertheless, she stood by silently and solmenly as Maso Cestie's remains were inturred into teh earth, forever to rest and never to rise, his soul departed to whatever afterlife awaited them all. Only about a week had past since Cestie's passing, and so the sting had not yet been lost, but Taalia did find it easier to stand by in solemn silence as he was finally laid to rest. The girl had seen many people come and many people go, but it had only been the past few years where she had actually cared about another beyond the surface level special loyalty. Cestie had been the sagacious, wizened looking elder who had entered her life with his skill to unlock that footlocker in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Even now, Taalia smiled softly as she remembered how she had kissed him upon the cheek in the town centre, performing what she thought was the standard greeting among surface humans, but only later learning that such displays of affection from a younger woman to an older man were far from established orthodoxy. Applying herself in his workshop where she learned the basics of gunsmithing. Camping with the elder and witnessing the young engineers hurling themselves off the cliff-face with utmost faith in their personal flying machines. Seeking his advice when the pirates menaced her new home. Taking to the skies in his flying machine, drawn in by his

Taalia drew in a breath as it was all laid to rest on foreign soil before her. Kneeling, drawing up a gloved-fist full of soil and placing it upon the coffin as it laid to rest within the earth, the white-haired girl moved her other gloved hand to her mouth and blew a gentle kiss.

"I'll get you to Nuln, one way or another, Singore Cestie," she remarked gently, wiping a tear from her eye, "and then, I'll see you again in the next life."

oOo

"I owe you very much, Taalia. More than I can say." Your Breton is coming alone now; some illuminating gesturing from Margot - touching her lips and flaring her fingers and shrugging for more than I can say, for example - help bridge the remaining gaps. "You have spared me a... much longer imprisonment within myself that would have cost my mind, if not my life. I do not know how to properly thank you, Taalia. I hope I may one day find a way."


It felt odd hearing such words come from the noblewomans lips. Though her Breton was coming along well, thanks mostly to the similarity between Tilean and Breton - the girl dreaded having to learn Reikspiel, though she knew that mountain lay before her - the shepardess felt an unusual pang to hear a lady of high station praising her as such.

The girl gently and humbly waved away any such talk, although...she remembered just how useful it had been to have the elf ride to the rescue and speak on her behalf at her trial in Verezzo. Though Taalia was not a political animal, she had slave-borne instincts to recognize and acknowledge a potential ally, especially when entering a strange new land such as Bretonnia.

And so, Taalia exhibited her humility, which was sincere, but in the back of her mind she filed away the gratitude of a noblewoman and her husband. Though hardly worth a fief, their words could one day make all the difference.

oOo


The gentle wind of the practice arena picked up Taalia's blonde-white hair and tussled it gently behind her head, the girl smiling as she stood with her body at an angle to diminish her target-zone. She wore no armor, just pants and a shirt. Even her hair was out, drawn behind her head in a loose ponytail that Donallo accepted due to her foreign station: culturally from Tilea and physically...well, clearly from somewhere north.

Receiving lessons in swordplay from the established Knight and Lord was a rich, but humbling experience. She wore no protection of steel or iron, as Taalia wanted to work purely on her skill to deflect and reflexes to avoid, and so, she went through hours of re-learning footwork and acquiring new understandings in the art of using a blade. The girl herself was surprisingly skilled in its use, all things considered. However, her ability was an eclectic mix that made her unpredictable, rather than a trained and refined swordswoman with an expertise clearly borne in a regional method of fighting.

However, once all was said and done, the girl was grateful and gracious, curtseying in etiquette and thanking Lord Donallo for his lessons.

oOo

When it was time to depart, Taalia wished Lord, Lady and household servants all the best. She was not a Bretonnian, and so this afforded her a degree of forgiveness for any lapse in decorum, as the towering shepardess offered curtsey's and physical affection where possible.

With everything packed up and ready, Taalia visited Cestie's resting place one more time. Upon it she placed a flower she had picked from the fields in which they had come down, her eyes viewing her adoptive grandfathers resting place for one final moment before blowing him a parting kiss with one gloved hand.

"Until next we meet, Singore..."

And they were gone.