500 posts for the AAR!
Boris: Glad you liked it!
blsteen: Indeed!
Chicken: Thanks!
Aliasing: I agree, but sadly that timeline is now dead. It'll come back in a vision though.
Dewirix: That's the same map I looked at! I needed to get her back into things, and this seemed the best way. I estimated that it'd take between 2-3 years, and happily that coincided with my next plot event!
morningSIDEr: We shall see! If it doesn't work out I can just change back to my old method. I didn't want things getting too out of whack with reality though. After all, she needs to be born in order to ever go back!
Sather: No, I'm not actually playing for this part, but using it for pictures etc. We'll see how it goes.
Chicken: LOL! I had considered this.
Chapter 2 – The Conquistador
9/4/1532
Talena was jolted from her uncomfortable slumber under a tree by a sound. Getting to a half prone position she crawled to the edge of a sand dune and peered through the morning light.
A horseman was picking his way over the ground. The man himself was tall and dark haired, handsome in a way, and dressed in armour and sword. More importantly Talena realised that he was a European, a Latin of some sort. His arms and armour reminded her vaguely of something…something so long ago that it couldn’t even begin to be coherent in her mind.
Talena wasn’t thinking straight, but the sight of someone, anyone in this wasteland filled her with joy. She burst from the dunes and staggered towards the man.
Instantly he saw her, and obviously thinking her an enemy drew his sword. But then he stopped, blade held, and stared. It clearly was not in his expectations to see a half naked European looking woman emerging from the dunes of a wasteland far from civilisation.
He called to her, still wary.
Talena collapsed to her knees, looking up. The words he spoke were…familiar. So many years…decades, over a century she realised. Now the renewed impetus to remember made her remember a few words of the old Castilian language she had used so long ago.
The man sheathed his sword and dismounted, looking down on her with deep confusion. “What is your name?”
“Talena…my name is Talena Mazari,” she replied in what must have sounded truly archaic Spanish to the man.
“I am Rodrigo Sanchez…Count of Albura. How is it you are here?” He spoke slowly, and most of the meaning between them could only be guessed.
“I…got shipwrecked,” Talena said, pointing vaguely at the sea.
Rodrigo looked down at her matted and dirty hair, her torn clothes and vague look. There was certainly no reason to doubt her.
“Come, Talena. You will return with me to camp. You must tell me more about what happened. Here, take this.” He offered a waterskin, and then a blanket for her. “Now mount up, you may ride behind me.”
Talena gulped down the water greedily and pulled herself up behind him, pressing herself close to his armoured back. In seconds she had dozed off again.
She was awoken by hands lifting her down from the horse. For a moment she flailed, but reassuring people helped her, and carried her to a tent. There two people knelt down beside her; a Spanish woman and a priest in the robes of a Dominican friar.
Rodrigo entered the tent, now divested of his armour and spurs. “I found this woman in the dunes not five miles from here. She says she was shipwrecked, and I believe it. Though she seems in fine health otherwise.”
“I will find clothes for her. Maria will have a spare dress she can use,” the woman said. She laid a blanket over Talena to cover her, and adjusted her pillows.
“Truly an astonishing find. God has blessed her…and you, Lord.” The priest kissed his rosary and stood. “I will see to her receiving some food. She looks hungry.” He adjusted the blanket and rested her more comfortably.
“Thank you, Father,” Rodrigo said. “Isabella, my dear, let you maid tend to her. Later when she is clothed you may speak to her again.” He reached down and smoothed some of Talena’s hair from her face before reordering the pillows more comfortably.
“Of course. Excuse me, Talena.”
Talena waved a hand vaguely. Despite her supernatural healing powers she was still no more certain where she was, who these people were, or even what year it was!
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of a maid, clearly identified by her rougher clothing. This was clearly Maria. For a moment though the woman just stared curiously at Talena.
“Yes?” Talena asked, not unkindly.
“Sorry, Lady. I…I was just surprised by what you looked like,” Maria said.
“Oh yes. I could really do with some clothes, food. Maria, yes?” The language was slowly coming back, though it was probably garbled, and by the looks of it Maria barely understood her.
However, the maid caught the general gist, and brought a bucket of brackish water, a cloth and a plate of bread, cheese and salted meat. Also there were some dresses and shoes of the same sort the maid wore.
“I will be back soon, Lady,” Maria said. As she left she pulled the tent closed.
Talena was left to wash, dress and eat in private, and to reflect on her new situation. She had many questions she wanted answered, but with her limited grasp of the language she would struggle to understand or be understood….
However as she lifted the dress from the bed she caught sight of something odd. There, just visible under the pillow was something artificial, not like the cloth of the sheet or the stuffed straw of the mattress.
She picked it up. It was a translator. Someone had clearly put it there. Someone with a knowledge both of who she was, and where she came from. She tucked it into her ear, and instantly the jabber outside became understandable. The day kept getting better and better….