Kansas Stormcursed

In brackets?

Yes

Aeryn looks around. "Where is this, exactly?"

"Sure."

"I have done nothing for the past two decades but search. Endlessly. With no result. Please. I need anything to do."

"Very well. Not as if any of these doors chances to lead me where I need to go...at least it's something to do. How shall we begin?"

Aeryn stands up. "Sure. What do you need?"

Knowing something from just a trailer

Aeryn comes to a door that looks more like a tree trunk than a door. She pauses, takes a deep breath, then steps through— —into an open forest. A tangle of roots from a tree pokes up from the ground, and within two children—one a boy, blond with deep brown eyes, around eight or nine; the other a girl, hair dark and matted, eyes shocking green, maybe four at most. They huddle down, hiding from something. Shouts can be heard in the distance, quickly drawing closer. Then the baying of dogs. A bunch of men on horseback crest a hill, following several dogs who head straight for the roots. The men call the dogs back, then two dismount and shove aside the leaves partially covering the roots. They reach in, hauling out the children. The boy screams for help, but the girl remains silent, shaking and wide-eyed. The two are thrown over a couple horses and carried off. The scene shifts. The same girl, about ten years older by her appearance, huddles in the back corner of a dead-end alleyway. Her hair is short and ragged, her clothing smudged and tattered. At the opening of the alleyway, a group of similar-looking street kids share a loaf of bread that one of them brags of having stolen. Hungry, the girl begins to crawl forward, but stops when one of them looks at her and puts his hand to a makeshift knife at his belt. She falls back against the wall, and a flickering whote blur surrounds her. Time passes. At last, the blur fades and the girl opens her eyes. It is night, and the urchins are sleeping. The girl's eyes harden. She creeps forward. The scene jumps again. Back to the forest. The girl, now in her late teens, crouches in the underbrush, dressed in dark brown and green. She clutches a knife in each hand, and wears several more strapped around her. Her face is hardened and emotionless. Only her eyes show a hint of emotion. Rage. A group of horses crosses into view. The walk slowly, carefully. Suddenly, a horse screams. Then another, and a third. Their legs have been caught in steel traps. They fall, pinning their riders, as the others panic and begin to run away, their riders cursing. The woman stands up and calmly walks forward, scanning the three who have fallen. She kills the first two with a quick knife to the chest, then comes to the third, holding a knife to his throat. "Where is he?" She snarls. Moments later, she walks away, hands red and eyes alight with an emotion she has not felt in a long time. Hope. Aeryn stumbles back out of the door, barely breathing. Her eyes glisten, and she sits down on the floor.

HAH I see you, too, are plotting TLT in here

Alym shifts so that he's in front of the gun, blocking with his body as he remains focused on Nikolas.

I don't own a cow, and don't believe in honor. I will fight as dirty as I need to to win

Alym steps up. "When. When was this?"

LEAVE THAT WHOLE SERIES WAS GOOD THERE'S THE DOOR *POINTING* I have no words

It's Stick I actually have no clue I'm dumb

"Common? No, I suppose not. But then, this isn't a common place."

No rust Sherlock WAIT HONOR?

Nightwatcher?

Aeryn pauses, about to step through a door. "Who are you?"

Sibling?

Stormfather

Auxiliary?

"I believe you must search for it." With that, she opens a nearby sturdy oak door and steps through.

Syl