Character || Itotia
Stage || Rogue
Crafting || Short Performance
Crafting Stat || 24 (+3)
Difficulty || 10
Roll Needed || 50-100
Rolled || 69
Outcome || Success
Experience earned || 15 EXP

Itotia was fuming silently in her room, her glowing eyes illuminated in the dark as the moon hid away from the sky. She had books around her room, some opened but most haphazardly thrown about in riot. Aseara was pushing her to learn about the mainlands. Which race was which, which leader did this, how did that even occur; it was all such a mess, and Itotia refused to deal with it any longer. Standing from her bed, she rushed out of her room and the housing quarters, down the steps and out into Afsana's private gardens. That woman could hiss and spit all she wanted, but Itotia decided she would get some air.

As she stood in the cooling night, a soft melody reached her ears. A flute from one of the musicians, most likely bored and practicing in a windowsill near the side of the building. It was a lullaby of sorts, but also had hints of sorrow, enough so that Itotia felt a stirring. It made her want to move, and slowly she felt her feet drifting across the sandy path and into the dry grass. Her arms move next, waving about as she danced with her gods in mind.

Soon, she was slowly moving in a patterned step, lifting and falling with the song in the air and her eyes closed. She poured her emotions into the step, building and building until suddenly a sharp shout was heard and the music cut off. Gasping lightly, Itotia stilled and slowly lifted her hands, her fingers brushing her cheeks where tears dripped. Wiping it away quickly, she pursed her lips and moved back inside, the emotion and pain left in the gardens behind her. The dance was her emotion, and maybe one day she'd be ready to share it with someone around her. For now, she hid it all under her rage as she made way to face another day.

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