Editing Ilsa Utterbutten (section)

== Background ==

Pig farming stinks. You don't notice it as much if you grow up there, but you can never completely ignore the fact that pigs are filthy, disgusting animals. They make everything around them smell awful. Ask Ilsa. She knows. She grew up on a pig farm in Tabecland. It was miserable. More then 20 of the awful things wandering around in it's own filth at any point in the day.

It wasn't until she left the farm to head to market that Ilsa noticed another, stranger smell in the air. It smelled... Green. Green with hints of a roar to it. A very complex smell. And something she couldn't even begin to describe to her parents or her brothers. But she could smell it. While her family sold off pound after pound of pig flesh, and pig milk, Ilsa followed the scent. It lead her away from the little town they were in, through the forest, to a dark glade hidden far away. It was there this scent revealed itself in a sudden burst of light and fury.

Ilsa realized what she was smelling. It was magic. She could smell the wind of mana as it rolled through the world. Of course, she didn't know enough to discribe it that way. She barely knows enough now to describe it that way. But, slipping away from the farm whenever she could, Ilsa was able to use her particular talent to good effect. Learning little tricks, how to bend and move the strange currents of scent to her will.

The carnival came to town a few years later, just after Ilsa turn 15. She was pretty enough to convince the illusionist  with them to take her on as his assistant. She abandoned the farm, only to find that the so called 'magician' was nothing more then a sly trickster. But, with little other choice, Ilsa learned all the tricks and gestures she could from the man. Better that then nothing.

It was on the road, traveling with the carnival that she met Eckhart. He wasn't part of the carnival, but that really doesn't matter when one's a traveling entertainer. They were in some village for a local harvest festival. It drew townspeople from all over. Enough to attract entertainers, which drew yet more townspeople, from further away. The two got along well, though their friendship was a brief one. Occasionally, they would bump into each other on the road, long enough to keep their names, but knowing little of one another.

Ilsa's magic act- her former teacher retired some time ago- is a bit particular. She's not prone to stage patter. In fact, she's a fairly bad joke teller or story smith. Instead, she steps onto the make shift stage, in front of whatever crowd she can gather. There, in silence, she begins her act. Without saying a word, she flips through all the illusions and tricks one expects to see in such a show. Allowing the silence to add a sense of wonder and effort to the event. And, if the crowd seems right for it, she has the best close in the business. A tiny ball of fire lights in her palm, unbidden.