A Humble Beginning: The Gypsies(PM if you would like to join)

[Morgoth]

He stumbled through the woods, pitch night and heavy fog cutting his vision down to a few feet. "Sound!" he gasped to himself as he heard human voices. Drawing on newfound energy, he rushed forward. "Nearly there!" he panted to himself, seeing the light of a large fire warm even this cold, foggy night. As he was nearing, his foot snagged a root, hurtling him down, where his head slammed into a tree. He lay there. Just lay there for a moment, motionless, dazed. Then, wearily, groggily, he stood. The pain in his head was like an earthquake, except as a constant pounding that forced him to the ground once more. He pushed himself up once more, blood trickling from a large gash on his forehead over his breastplate, dripping to the ground. He sat there for a few moments, resting, regaining his energy. Finally, he stood, and took a few halting steps. Finding his strength slightly replenished, he charged to the light. Suddenly, he had burst from the trees and emerged in the middle of a large clearing. Wagons by the dozend stood clustered around a large fire, where a large group of people were dancing and singing. He groaned, amazed at this new turn of bad luck. Gypsies! He had stumbled upon gypsies! Even as he thought what these murderous thieves would do to him, all eyes shifted to him.

 

[Mistress]

The Gypsy Gentleman
I'm the Romani rai,
I'm the true didikai,
I build all my castles beneath the blue sky,
I live in a tent, and I don't pay no rent,
And that's why they call me - the Romani rai.
...
Chorus
Kakka chavvi, dick akai,
Father's gone to sell a mush a kushti grai,
And that's why they call him-the Romani rai.
..
I'm the Romani rai,
Just an old didikai,
My home is a mansion beneath the blue sky,
I was born in a ditch, that's why I'll never grow rich,
And that's why they call me - the Romani rai.

Rai = lord
didakai = loo-'ere fellow (A rough ignorant person)
kakkachavvi, dickakai = quiet boy, look here
mush = man
kushtigrai = good horse



Ruman had just finished the song when the man came rushing out into the clearing, surprising all who was near by. His eyes wild as he realized who he had stumbled upon, he seemed to take a step back but instead stood their frozen. Lyanka saw the look of disgust cross over the stranger’s features as well and she slightly frowned. She dropped her tambourine to her side and stood eyeing the man, waiting to see what would happen. Naturally Ruman and the men were on their feet quickly, cautiously surveying the man….

She noticed also the large open wound on the man’s forehead and the healer in her blood rose up, but she didn’t dare make a move just yet. It would be out of place for her to take charge, she was already on warning for speaking her mind one to many times, she did not need to be banished from the Tribe like Donka and her family. Patiently she waited, standing there in silence with the others, her hands itching from the need to help the stranger, regardless of the circumstances. Finally Ruman gestured to the others and returned to his seat, choosing to ignore the stranger for the moment. He started up his song again and began to sing the melody, his violin wailing. After a moment when he noticed Lyanka had not joined back in, he raised and eyebrow to her and nodded.

Sitting down her instrument she picked up a small bag near by and slowly approached the man, nervously she strained to see the wound in the fire light. She gestured to the wound and said nothing, for he had not spoken yet. She kneeled to the ground and made herself comfortable, setting the contents of her bag out in front of her. Lyanka’s dark eyes gazed up at the man expectantly, and a slightly smile tugged at her full lips as she thought about the fact that he had stumbled into what he probably considered ‘bad luck’.

 

[Morgoth]

He looked down in shocked surprise. "You... you mean you're not going to kill me and... and eat me?" he asked tentatively, half-fearing the answer.

 

[Mistress]

She raised an eyebrow and smirked, gestering to the herbs infront of her, "Aye, why do you think I have laid out these spices eh?" She chuckled and shook her head, "Sit, and I will tend to your wound, yes?" She tried to smile as friendly as possible but the man was starting to make her nervious with his wild eyes. She glanced back at the men around the fire and noticed Ruman watching from the corner of his eye, she calmed with the fact that he was keeping an eye on her.

 

[Morgoth]

He settled down some, seeing the reason behind this notion. He sat, letting her tend to his wounds. "I'm very sorry about my past comments, but the stories told about you made me fear for my life, I'm afraid. They're not very charming or pleasant stories", he said gently, watching her work.

 

[Mistress]

"Bah, people fear what they do not know." She blotted the wound with the edge of her long skirt and then gently patted a mixed paste upon it. "Hmm not as bad as it looks, no, it will be fine." She blew softly on the paste helping it dry quickly, then she pulled out a bandage and wrapped it around his head. When finished she quickly scooted back from him and nodded, "All finished now." Her accent was rather thick, but he could hear her clearly. Her dark eyes turned back to the fire and her people, "I do not know what is wished upon you now."

 

[Morgoth]

He turned to the leader of the gypsies. " I am sorry for stumbling upon you. If you wish, I will depart. Please, I am just a lone knight, shunned by his peers and cast aside by the state. Please, let me join you! I have skill with the blade and I can cook and hunt", he pleas.