Name: Osanna
Age: About 21
Race: Human
Occupation: Gypsy
Appearance: http://i177.photobucket.com/albums/w...Cs/anime-1.jpg Her except she normally wears brightly colored clothes and leaves her hair loose.
History: Osanna was born in a gypsy caravan, and she's lived with that caravan her whole life. Her mother is long dead, but she still has family among the caravan.


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Osanna yawned quietly as she moved to the front of her wagon, pulling herself into the driver's seat and clucking her tongue at her horse, Starlette. The rest of the caravan was also starting to move, wagons lumbering along and brightly colored cloths stuck in the back. A few dogs trotted alongside the wagons, or even rode shotgun or in the back of the wagons. The children had all been scooped up and put into their wagons, under parents' watchful eyes, and the leader was up front, deciding where they would go next.

None of that really concerned Osanna. She no longer paid any mind to the noise they made, or the preparations for leaving, because she'd gone through it all many times before. The only thing she wanted to do was get going so she could go see the next town. She hadn't quite been everywhere yet, but she was working on it. And she liked meeting new people and seeing the different towns. The only thing she didn't like were the vague mutters and threats about the forest and the mountains and the deep lakes, and the things that were said to reside within.

Name: Rowan
Age: 25
Race: Human
Occupation: Wandering Bard
Bio/History: Rowan comes from a long line of Bards. While not every male in his family is a bard, it is a very common occupation and he loves it because it is one of the few occupations out there where he can travel the human world and get to meet people from far away that have very different cultures. He has been a roamer since the age of four when he started traveling around with his odler brother, Merrick, because his mom became ill and could not take care of him. While Rowan can be very playful and a flirt, he is harmless and is really just trying to drum up an audience and some food to eat.
Picture:http://i1143.photobucket.com/albums/...wanthebard.jpg
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Rowan got up from the pub table after finishing his ale and stew, waved goodbye to the patrons of the establishment that were kind enough to give him enough money for his services to afford the meal, and headed out into the town to see about securing a place to sleep for the night: he did not have enough to stay at the inn that was above the pub.
Sometimes, to get his money, he brought messages from one town to another. While it might take a little longer for Rowan to get messages from town to town by foot than an official messenger or scribe that has a horse to travel on, Rowan worked for less than they did and people in the towns got to know him and trust him, so it was a good side venture to get some extra money from time to time. In fact, if he was really desperate and the night was cold enough, he would deliver messages for a place to get out of the weather until the morning.

At the outskirts of town, there was a second pub, a seedier pub than the one that he usually patronizes and since it was getting late, it was his only hope left to get some copper pieces or else he would have to venture in the woods and sleep under a tree. He had a really bad feeling about it, but he didn't have any other choice and night was going by quickly. He stepped up to the door and walked into the dark mumbling bar that was filled with smoke and hoped for the best.

By that time, the gypsy caravan had arrived outside town, the wagons forming a large circle. Dogs chased children, teenagers stayed by the adults, hoping to learn something new or hear some new story, and the adults cooked dinner, sang songs, told stories, and generally entertained themselves.

Osanna sat back against one of the wheels of her wagon, petting the mutt that had come to travel with her. He was a pretty thing, with silky white fur blotched with copper, and long ears and a long tail that almost always seemed to be wagging. He'd also gotten into the habit of bossing the other dogs around, having made himself alpha of the pack.

Chuckling at a store she was only half-listening to, Osanna gave the bones from the ribs she'd been eating to the mutt, who chewed on them happily, gnawing on the bones with much happy growling and crunching.

What Rowan found inside the pub was not all too different than any of the other darkly lit pub that he had ever been in on nights that he had been as desperate as he was now. He knew that he would not be making his money by telling stories and singing songs tonight- at least not the same way that he normally would with a more reputable crowd of people. Instead, he took the last coin to his name, bought a drink and sat down at a table to survey the room to figure out what his next move would be.
After only about a few minutes, he had concluded the only way that he was going to get any money is if he got in on the game that was going on in the center of the pub. At the largest table, there were five men sitting around rolling dice, heckling each other, sometimes even threatening each other and money was going from one man to another in a blink of an eye. Hoping that his wit was smart enough to earn him a seat at the table, he approached them cautiously.

"I hear that you all are the WORST dice rollers in town, I'm surprised that any of you have any money left, but I suppose that's why you are here at the outskirts of town."
A burly man of about thirty or so years stood up and looked at Rowan.
"If we're so bad at it, how come I have handfuls of copper coins and half a handful of silver coins? Do you think you can do better than me?"
"Yes, actually, I do."
Rowan pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. When it came his turn to bet, he put his guitar on the table.
The men looked at it warily, but decided that it could pay for one or two rolls and so Rowan took his first roll. The men laughed at him and stared. Rowan realized his mistake: he had forgotten to watch long enough to learn the rules of this paticular game. He put up his hands in defeat and walked out of the pub, without his instrument and out of town, towards the woods where he saw a caravan in the distance.

The gypsies didn't notice Rowan approaching, too focused on their own entertainment, teaching the younger ones how to play instruments or dance or sing. That was how they made most of their money; they'd perform at gatherings and festivals.

A few of the dogs went to investigate Rowan once he got close enough, and Osanna's dog got up and trotted over to him, since he was the alpha. He sniffed Rowan careful before he barked once, turned around, and went back to his meal.

Osanna stood when she saw the man outside the circle of wagons, stepping through a gap between two of them and approaching him. "Evening, sir. Can I help you with something?"

A dog came up to Rowan, sniffed him and started barking, all of which was something that Rowan was use to as traveler of the world. What surprised him was how quickly a young woman came between him and the dog and started talking to him, politely but with a sense of authority: this gypsy was highly thought of, or at least she thought highly of herself.
Rowan smoothed out a non-existent wrinkle in his clothes to give himself an extra second to compose himself and then began to speak.
"Yes well, I'm a bard and I'm just trying to find a place to sleep for the night. I don't have enough money to stay at the inn, in fact I've run broke and I was just going to spend the night in the forest. I had a bit of bad luck in town at the pub on the outskirts of town and lost my instrument."
Rowan quickly glanced at the colorful clothing that the gypsy was wearing, astonished how she could wear so many colors and still look so...well, attractive.

Osanna nodded wisely. "Yes, that does sometimes happen. Well, for the night you can stay here. It's much warmer and safer than the forest. I know some of the younger men were planning on sleeping out of the wagons tonight anyway." She smiled a little at the bard before her.

"My name is Osanna, by the way." She held out her hand for him to shake, watching him, her dark blue eyes almost black without the firelight. "Welcome to our caravan."

Rowan extends his hand out to Osanna, "The name's Rowan. Thank you so much for the hospitality. I know that it is safer among the group of people than out in the woods by myself. If the men and women of your caravan take watch shifts, I'll be happy to lend a hand in that, its the least that I could do to show my gratitude."
Rowan smiled, genuinely happy that he met Osanna, who he was now sure, although young, perhaps even younger than him, had some status in the caravan, if only one of respect.

"We normally don't bother," Osanna said, motioning for him to follow as she led the way back to the caravan. "If there's something around, the dogs wll tell us. They can hear better than we can, and looking for things at night is not always successful."

Slipping between two wagons again, Osanna wended her way over to the leader of the caravan, a man in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and gray eyes. She spoke to him quietly and he looked at Rowan for several long moments before he nodded.

"This young man will be staying with us tonight," he said to the gypsies around him, who all turned to listen. "Does anyone have a spare sleeping roll?"

"We do!" A teenage girl piped up, while her mother merely rolled her eyes. The teenager batted her eyes at Rowan, while Osanna merely chuckled and made her way back over to her wagon.

While Rowan would have happily kept watch, he was relieved that he didn't have to, because it meant that he could get a little bit more sleep, which he really needed after a long day. Rowan was mesmerized by the ease that Osanna passed through the caravan, not caring about anything but her goal.
Rowan breathed a sigh of relief when the gypsy in charge told everyone that he would be staying the night and then laughed a little and smiled broadly when the young girl offered a bed roll to him. He walked over to her and with exaggerated motions pointed to a sleeping roll he saw laying on the ground.
"Is this the roll you are speaking of my lady? Shall I lay it down near yours so we can chat?"
Rowan hoped that he would not offend the girl's mother...he really just wanted some company and this young eager teenager was more than will to spend probably hours listening to his stories.

The girl nodded, smiling broadly. She pulled her own bedroll out of the wagon, and her mother merely smiled tolerantly and went back to her conversation with her husband.

"Do you know any stories?" the girl asked, looking at Rowan. The chatter of the gypsies quieted a little; they were all curious to know the answer. Maybe this stranger knew some stories that they didn't.

Osanna sat down where she had been before, the dog's head resting in her lap, and watched everything going on around her, though her attention kept turning to Rowan. He was rather curious, really. She'd never met a bard before, and at the mention of stories she sat up a little straighter.

Rowan smiled, knowing that was exactly what the girl was going to ask about.
"Why yes, I do know some stories, quite a few in fact since I am a bard. I do not know what stories you may know, so I shall ask you a question. Do you know the story of the boy who was friends with a cenataur?"
He waited patiently while the girl thought about his question and let his eyes wander around the troupe of gypsies. He had never stayed with gypsies before although he had crossed paths with them before, which is inevitable for people who travel like himself. He found he was already enjoying the company.

The girl nodded, and the gypsies all turned their attention to the bard. It was normal for them to take turns telling stories, and Rowan had just started that a little early tonight.

"We know that one," the girl said with a smile. "Although we could hear it again."

"You just want to keep talking to him," another teenage girl said, and the first blushed and glared half-heartedly at her friend while everyone else laughed.

"Come, bard," another gypsy said, "tell us a story of your chosing. Doesn't matter if we've heard it before or not."

Rowan decided he was going to tell the tale of the boy and the centaur, it really was one of his favorite stories to tell and as there was a mixed age group, it was also quite appropriate for that as well. He stretched his arms, as was a habit because he often did that before playing and singing, which he unfortunately wouldn't be able to do and then began.
"There once was a little boy who liked to wander off in the woods away from his mother..." Rowan continued to tell the story, making sure to use different voices for the different characters and adding embellishments or altering the story a little, because a good story was never told the same way twice. When the story ended he stood there, waiting to see if it were appropriate to bow, couldn't tell and gave a small bow anyhow and sheepishly sat down: these people were probably just as great story tellers as he was, if not some of them better- he would not doubt if in their travels that they had seen some places he'd never seen before. He hoped that perhaps at some point that night or in the morning, hear a tale told by one of their master story tellers.

The gypsies all listened attentively and cheered for him when he was done. Several of them clapped, while a few whistled or told him he'd done a good job. After they'd calmed down, one of the gypsies stepped forward, an older woman. Silence fell.

"Long ago, when humans were still building their cities and their walls, there was a girl. This girl's family had been killed, and she wandered into the forest, hoping to die herself. But she was saved by werewolves, and had many adventures with them." The woman continued telling the story, which was one very well known by the gypsies but almost never told anywhere else.

(Sorry I had a really busy day, most days I will try to post earlier.)
He was happy when he got a good reception, hoping that he would now maybe hear a story from someone else. His wish came true rewarded immediately. He was not aware that the story being told was most likely partially because he was there.
Rowan sat and listened intently to the woman who told the story. While he had of course heard of werewolves before, Rowan had never heard this story, in fact he did not know much of the lore at all. He was fascinated by it. The more time he spent with the gypsies, the more and more he respected them.

((Don't worry about it, whenever you can post is fine with me))

Once that story was done, another gypsy started telling the story of the dragon and the same girl who befriended the werewolves. Apparently the girl had been a very brave human.

Osanna listened to the story with some amusement. These were some of her favorite stories.

Rowan was enjoying listening to other people's stories for once and was taking some mental notes on the stories so he could pass them on to other people and hopefully make a little something off of it. These people were really superb story tellers. He could learn a few lessons from them, if he could just remember their strategies.
Rowan yawned, and what a yawn it was- he was ready for some rest as soon as these stories were over. By the darkness of the sky and his feeling of time, it was probably about an hour past when he would have gone to sleep if he were alone in the woods, but he was enjoying the stories and the communal feel he never quite had before.

The gypsy finished his story, and by mutual, wordless consent, everyone started settling down. Some people moved into their wagons to sleep, while others pulled out bedrolls and settled into those to sleep.

By the time everyone had settled down, Osanna swung herself into her wagon, settling down with her dog. She gave one last thought to Rowan before deciding he would be warm enough by the fire.

Seeing that everyone else was settling in for the night, Rowan tries to settle down the best he can on his bed roll. He turned towards the girl who he had been sitting next to all night and had given him the bed roll to sleep on and thanked her again for the company and bed to sleep on. He told her to thank her mother too. It was quite warm by the fire, so Rowan knew that he would sleep good that night. As he cleared his mind, he took a few seconds to think about his day and decided that it was the most eventful day he has had for over a month and the best night that he had had for a long, long time. He decided that he would thank Osanna in the morning to thank her for inviting him to share the night with her community and see how long the gypsies were planning to stay outside the town before heading off. Maybe he would be able to travel with them to the next town at least. He knew this would be a good night sleep despite sleeping outside, something he did not usually enjoy doing.

The next morning the gypsies all got ready to go into town to gather some supplies and maybe earn some money. Osanna was dressed in bright colors again, her hair held back with a long strip of multi-colored cloth. She helped everyone else pack up their things in their wagons for the day, though they wouldnt be leaving until the next day at the earliest. Then she started walking towards the town, humming to herself as she did.

Rowan woke up with the sun in the morning, stretched, looked around, and saw that most of the caravan was already awake. He brushed himself off and went looking for Osanna, hoping to talk to her. Very quickly though he realized that everyone was heading into town for the morning, perhaps even day and knew he needed to get going into town if he hoped to make any money at all.
He smiled at the members of the gypsy gang when he passed by them, but he did not stop to walk leisurely with anyone...he couldn't afford to. He was hoping that perhaps he could find out what happened to his guitar and be able to retrieve it that day. As he headed into town, he went over in his head. some stories that the thought the villagers would like.

Osanna made it into town and started asking around about a guitar. She remembered that Rowan said he'd lost his in town, and maybe she could get it back for him. It shouldn't be too hard in a town this size.

Slipping among the people out in the streets, Osanna headed towards the seedier pub, having already heard things about that pub. She looked around and saw a group of men in the corner, one of them twanging away horribly on the guitar and all of them laughing.

"What do you want for the guitar?" she asked, walking over to them fearlessly.

One of the men looked her over with a leer. "Well, you could spend some time with us, see if you can convince us to give it to you."

"I don't think so." Osanna took another step forward. "I can give you money for the guitar."

"How about you play us? We win, you stay here. You win, you can take the guitar."

"Alright. Pick your game." Osanna watched the men steadily.

Rowan found that with the gypsies in town, he was pretty much old news: everyone wanted to hear their stories about travel...he had been through this town before and he supposed that these gypsies hadn't. He wandered into the pub to see about telling stories or delivering messages for some food.
After being given three letters, some breakfast and a gold coin, Rowan chatted with the pub owner for a few minutes and then headed outside. He decided that since he had not had anything to drink yet and there would be less people at the other pub at this time of day, he would go and see if the owner knew what had happened to his guitar.
Rowan got a few looks of confusion from gypsies he past on his way back out of town, but he paid them no mind. He really needed to get his guitar back, one way or another. When he got inside, he saw that there was a bigger group of people than he expected for late morning and they were all crowded around one table. Rowan looked at the owner, who was the only one who was not around the table and asked him what was going on.

"Gypsy girl challenged a couple of guys to a game over some guitar." The owner shrugged, clearly not about to get in the middle of it.

Osanna smirked as she won another round. She just needed to win two more and she would win the guitar back. Although she doubted the men would let her go that easily. So she stayed alert, just watching them."