”Sorry. I’ve never heard of Chauntea or the Northern Light but they both sound great. What has she given the world? Was it trees? I’m really fond of those.” Rowan says before barreling on. “No, the only thing I’ve ever lost is self control. Sometimes my emotions just bubble up and out and then all of a sudden I’m across the room or rainbows are shooting around or even extra arms spring out. But thankfully nothing like that has happened today. Do you think it’s still today?”
"chauntea, hmm, I've never been the religious type but knowledge, as they say, is power, pleased to meet you all either way, I think we'll have our work cut out for us here and yes indeed it was a hoe that was stolen from me, but not just a hoe, an heirloom, a rite of passage really, something that signifies a certain respect in my community" Greg sits and listens, stretching his feet out and using this time not only to chat but to rest... "wait wild magic? I've only ever read about that kind of thing. Does that not make you dangerous!? Or at least a risk, if indeed that is what is afflicting you?" he asks Rowan with some degree of surprise.
"You know, I've never thought of it that way," Rowan says. "But, yes, wild magic is the best name for it. Sometimes, if I focus hard, and that's really difficult to do, I can even tell if a spell has been cast or if there's magic nearby. But the wild magic, well, it was a bit scary the first few times it happened. Something that looked like a flumph showed up and floated across the lane to the grainery where it promptly exploded. That was quite the sight but it took hours to explain that I didn't do it. But I've had years of practice dealing with whatever shows up. So now I can generally control at least who gets caught up in the magic."
He pauses for a moment and looks lost in thought.
"Do you think the flowers that bloom whenever I walk by have something to do with the wild magic too?" Rowan asks. "My parents were almost as scared of that as the rainbow lights that come sometimes."
Then Rowan laughs.
"I would very much like to see your hoe," Rowan begins before adding. "And hear your voice, and well I guess I don't really want to see your grandmother's recipe but I think I would like to taste whatever it made. What was it for? A cake? That is interesting that you've all lost something at the carnival. But I didn't. I actually don't think I've ever lost anything. Though I did overhear my mom telling my dad that she thought I was lost. But I was just in the other room so not really sure why she thought that. Did any of you see other people in the mirrors back at the carnival? People besides you I mean? I saw my parents but I saw other people too."
"I think you may have lost something, but I'm not sure Barria would like me to guess at what it is" Greg notes, eyeing the dwarf and remembering her admonishment of his previous comments. "What I know of wild magic is mostly the dangers, what's been written in books on the subject, though in sure if there are silver linings to it you would most definitely find them hm?" He closes his eyes making the most of the short period of rest his hiding space allows and then begins reminiscing, "oh my hoe was a beautiful tool, she was hand crafted in the mountain, etched with gnomish symbology along the holds, perfectly balanced and oh the curves, haha, passed down from one generation to the next, oh how my parents were angry when I came home from one of my jaunts without it, I almost blamed myself for being careless but knew deep down, it wasn't my fault, those condescending sisters are to blame! And wouldn't you know it, I was bloody right! As per usual! Hmph, parents know nothing, always stressing and complaining, I'm only in my 50's plenty of life ahead of me, no need to take over the family farm or... Well whatever else it was they were drowning on about" he pulls his hat over his eyes with a chuckle.
Rowan smiles and waves at Barria as she speaks.
”Sorry. I’ve never heard of Chauntea or the Northern Light but they both sound great. What has she given the world? Was it trees? I’m really fond of those.” Rowan says before barreling on. “No, the only thing I’ve ever lost is self control. Sometimes my emotions just bubble up and out and then all of a sudden I’m across the room or rainbows are shooting around or even extra arms spring out. But thankfully nothing like that has happened today. Do you think it’s still today?”
"chauntea, hmm, I've never been the religious type but knowledge, as they say, is power, pleased to meet you all either way, I think we'll have our work cut out for us here and yes indeed it was a hoe that was stolen from me, but not just a hoe, an heirloom, a rite of passage really, something that signifies a certain respect in my community" Greg sits and listens, stretching his feet out and using this time not only to chat but to rest... "wait wild magic? I've only ever read about that kind of thing. Does that not make you dangerous!? Or at least a risk, if indeed that is what is afflicting you?" he asks Rowan with some degree of surprise.
Rowan settles down a little at gReg's question.
"You know, I've never thought of it that way," Rowan says. "But, yes, wild magic is the best name for it. Sometimes, if I focus hard, and that's really difficult to do, I can even tell if a spell has been cast or if there's magic nearby. But the wild magic, well, it was a bit scary the first few times it happened. Something that looked like a flumph showed up and floated across the lane to the grainery where it promptly exploded. That was quite the sight but it took hours to explain that I didn't do it. But I've had years of practice dealing with whatever shows up. So now I can generally control at least who gets caught up in the magic."
He pauses for a moment and looks lost in thought.
"Do you think the flowers that bloom whenever I walk by have something to do with the wild magic too?" Rowan asks. "My parents were almost as scared of that as the rainbow lights that come sometimes."
Then Rowan laughs.
"I would very much like to see your hoe," Rowan begins before adding. "And hear your voice, and well I guess I don't really want to see your grandmother's recipe but I think I would like to taste whatever it made. What was it for? A cake? That is interesting that you've all lost something at the carnival. But I didn't. I actually don't think I've ever lost anything. Though I did overhear my mom telling my dad that she thought I was lost. But I was just in the other room so not really sure why she thought that. Did any of you see other people in the mirrors back at the carnival? People besides you I mean? I saw my parents but I saw other people too."
"I think you may have lost something, but I'm not sure Barria would like me to guess at what it is" Greg notes, eyeing the dwarf and remembering her admonishment of his previous comments. "What I know of wild magic is mostly the dangers, what's been written in books on the subject, though in sure if there are silver linings to it you would most definitely find them hm?" He closes his eyes making the most of the short period of rest his hiding space allows and then begins reminiscing, "oh my hoe was a beautiful tool, she was hand crafted in the mountain, etched with gnomish symbology along the holds, perfectly balanced and oh the curves, haha, passed down from one generation to the next, oh how my parents were angry when I came home from one of my jaunts without it, I almost blamed myself for being careless but knew deep down, it wasn't my fault, those condescending sisters are to blame! And wouldn't you know it, I was bloody right! As per usual! Hmph, parents know nothing, always stressing and complaining, I'm only in my 50's plenty of life ahead of me, no need to take over the family farm or... Well whatever else it was they were drowning on about" he pulls his hat over his eyes with a chuckle.