Quesse Tindome

Indeed not entirely done. There are changes to be made and things to, perhaps, be added on, details to be fleshed, even, though much of it is prepared for critical inspection. I dare not leap out and say who I am, for I fear if I do no one would bother to read this profile! I won't try to hide, though, should someone find me out: probably Catchfire. He's good at such things.

I am in dire need of sleep, I think.

Name: Quesse Tindome
Gender: Female
Age: 44 (appears in her early 20s)
Race: 7/8 Human, 1/8 Elf
Tribe: 7/8 Avennorian, 1/8 Aellenrhim (Predicted Lifespan: 170)
Class/Title: Elven Heart

Appearance: At 1.7 peds, Quesse is shorter than most of her race, though she would be considered average among her Avennorian tribe, and weighs hardly 1 pygge. Her body is rather lithe: slender and yet with a muscle tone that makes her anything but scrawny. However, though toned, she isn’t so muscular as to thwart a certain degree of speed and agility. Her skin is rather soft and only lightly tanned, despite her being in the sun a lot: perhaps because of her Avennorian blood.

Quesse has long hair, slightly wavy, and very light blond, bleached from the sun. Her hair, reaching down to the middle of her back, is embellished with beads, beads that are colored in light, almost faded, reds, purples, and blues. Her hair is often worn down, falling loosely and nonchalantly across her shoulders, though she will also sometimes wear it in a ponytail. If she has the time she will sometimes even braid it.

Her head structure is very elven-like, with slightly higher cheekbones than most humans, a careful jaw line and a small, charming nose. Her eyebrows, light like her hair, are slender streaks above her shimmering indigo eyes. The color of her eyes looks washed-out, almost as though the sun had lightened the color of them, but they retain a depth despite, and light, star-like quality. Her eyelashes are not so long or delicate as many others but seem to have a beauty of their own. Quesse’s lips are very light pink and rather slender.

Her careful, thoughtful head is held on an elegant neck and carefully sloping shoulders. Though muscular, her arms are very slender and her hands are long and sturdy. Her chest is generous but not large, fairly proportional to her body. Her hips are carefully curved, but not too wide and are also fairly proportional to her body. Her stomach is toned but not too muscular; while not al her abs are visible, there is a noticeable toned groove down her stomach.

Quesse has long legs, slender but not like bird-legs. She has muscles that give them a toned shape. Her feet are proportional: not big but not especially tiny. They give her a careful attractiveness but also a size that allows her to walk comfortably for strals. Her nails, both fingernails and toenails, are very clear and clean. Although Quesse does a lot of traveling, she has a way of always keeping a very clean feel.

Clothing: see Possessions

Personality: Quesse is more elf-like than some elves. She has a very elven personality in the way she views the world and how she is able to accept and understand. Promises of power and wealth do not appeal to her, and this is perhaps why she never really had much of an interest in learning how to fight and use a great number of weapons or how to use magic. However, one could assume that if she really wished, she would make a wonderful Xeuá Mage. She likes to see how things connect and work together: how a gust of wind make the leaves rustle a certain way and how a bird flies different based on slight changes in the weather.

Quesse loves nature, and unlike many humans, is able to see a tree or flower without thinking of what it could be used for, of where it might belong in categorization or how it might be taken and grown in a private garden of her own. This elf-like human sees things are they are, enjoying them for what they are and where they are. She believes that, for the most part, where things grow naturally and healthily is where they belong, and they shouldn’t be moved.

Quesse also has an amazing ability to accept the way things are in nature. She can feel and listen and see the imbalances in the car’all of different animals and plants, but believes that the imbalances are natural and thus as they are meant to be. Quesse herself loves nature and all related to it, understanding the necessity of death and life, accepting them as they are and seeing their place in the natural cycle. However, though she understands many things, there are many more things she wants and tries to understand.

However, Quesse’s acceptance doesn’t stop with nature and its natural cycles, but also when it comes to different races. She acknowledges each race for its strengths and weaknesses (the great smiths of the dwarves, and yet their stubbornness, for example), and believes there is a beauty in their weaknesses and strengths, because it is how the Tree of Life and Avá created them, and what makes them unique. However, this doesn’t stop Quesse from seeking self-improvement, to change things about her that she doesn’t like. This quality has helped her rid herself of many unattractive characteristics, such as greed and stubbornness, though at times the latter may show through.

Though she is rather social, Quesse still enjoys being on her own, out in the wood where she can listen to the music of nature. She tends to be, not necessarily cheery, but optimistic. There are times when she seems evocative and profound, but at the same time mysterious in her own way, strange in all her understanding given her race. Many are drawn to her, even elves (especially elves), finding her strangely like them, if not more concentrated in elfishness then they.

Love has always been something Quesse was curious about, something she has considered but has been extremely shy about. She has often been approached with the proposal of love, of a relationship, but her traveling always got in the way, and she was often too frightened to accept, too afraid of getting hurt. However, her curiosity of the subject is not lessened because it remains something of a mystery to her. She can be thought of as pure and innocent when it comes to the realm of love and romance.

History: It was the morning of August (maáh'valannía) the 16th that a child was born to a student-mage and a lovely woman, far older than her appearance might imply just outside the old town of Ciosa. The little girl moved from the womb of the woman and fell into the arms of the midwife. Immediately the mother reached out her slender and weak arms to hold her child: the bright-eyed babe who looked around in wonder at the world around her, seeing the light and the shadows across the walls and the colors that brightened the room. The child made no face and did not cry. No tear fell from her soft indigo eyes.

The mother, with her child in her arms, moved weakly from the bed now wet with sweat and tears and blood. The midwife begged the woman to lie where she lay, to rest, but the woman already knew her fate, and summoned the last of her strength to open the door and bring her child to the outdoors. The sky was bright with the first rays, and the soft gray clouds, brushed with pink, released delicate drops of rain. The child looked about in awe, and felt the sunlight across her face for the first time, and the rain baptized the child, bathing away the water of the womb with the water of the sky. The mother lifted the child to the heavens, then stumbled, and fell backwards into the arms of her husband.

So it was that as one heart took its first beats in the world, another’s softened, and faded away, speaking the last words of “Quesse” into the promising morning.

Lebimir, the new father, found himself in a new dilemma: one that he had been forced into, driven into, and by recent death of his wife. As he watched her casket descend into the earth, he wondered what would become of his small daughter. Soon he would have to return to Ximax Academy and continue his studies. He had hoped that his wife would be able to care for the child until his studies ended, but now she was gone, and the thought of caring for a child with her blood filled him with sorrow.

He thought of sending the child to his father-in-law, but the father-in-law, like he, has responsibilities at Ximax: not as a student but as a teacher. His grandfather-in-law, a clock-maker in Southern Avennoria, was one he didn’t feel he could trust, for Lebimir believed him to be mad. However, there was one family member that, though Lebimir had not talked to since the wedding of his late wife and did not know well, was available and, because he was a full-blooded Aellenrhim elf, was still alive and sane. His name was Elear and it was said that at one time he had been one of the Elite Archers with a bit of magic under his belt, though he was now retired in Bolder, though it was said he traveled from time to time through Santharia.

Before Quesse had reached 6 months of life, she was sent on the first of many journeys she would take through Santharia, and at a young age was exposed to the wide world, to different plants and animals and to different people of all races whom she and her father, her traveling companion, met up with. After several months of travel the two came to Boulder forest, and there, after a brief meeting and explanation that Elear perhaps didn’t really understand, Lebimir left and quickly began back towards Ximax, where over a year of make-up work awaited him.

Elear had long forgotten the traditional customs of human child raising, but felt that it would be better for the child to be raised like an Aellenrhim would be. At a young age she was taught to read and write and was read aloud to before she became skilled at reading by herself. She was human and learned far more quickly than the elves. However, as she grew, she often found her love of nature was stronger than her love of reading and memorizing, and escaped to the woods often. There she fell in love with the beauty all around her, and learned to appreciate it as it was.

The other elf children were a bit hesitant of her at first. She wasn’t like them in appearance, for her ears were not pointed like theirs, and her body was not as lithe, and yet after a time they grew to love her as she was, as a friend and one with an appreciation and understand of nature that, in some cases, exceeded their own. She had no desire to learn magic or gain power, and enjoyed simply being in a world so wondrous and magical in its own right.

However, as a child of the Aellenrhim, though not an Aellenrhim herself, she was taught of the history and geography and lore. She even learned languages, though she quickly lost interest and never learned how to speak orc, trollish, or gnomish. However, she learned how to speak both Tharian and Thergerim, and, of course, knew styrash, which she had grown up knowing. She also learned how to use the bow: perhaps more of a dim hope of Elear to somehow capture his past as an Elite Archer. However, though Quesse was a good shot, she was nothing special, though she did try hard for her great grandfather.

At the age of 12 her father, who had just graduated from Ximax, sent her for. Elear and Quesse traveled toward Ximax on horseback. Quesse was rather excited, for now many years had passed and what her father was actually like had passed out of her memory. She often times pictured herself being taken up in his arms and hugged, told that she was loved and that she would be able to stay with him and they would live together as a family should. However, throughout the journey, Elear had many a quiet moment where his brows furrowed and he looked disturbed and full of displeasure, but when his eyes met hers, he always smiled. Quesse loved her great grandfather greatly, and believed she would miss him very much when she went to live with her father.

However, things did not go quite as Quesse expected. She arrived at Ximax where the great spires touched the sky and the academy was filled with magic and history. Elear and she dismounted from their horses and Lebimir was sent for. He came, a book under his arm and gnomish “spectacles” on his nose. He was now in his late thirties and the years seemed to have washed away any link Quesse ever had with the man. Still, there was the hope that he would love her as his own and he would ask her to live with him in a great house in the forest, as her fantasy had chosen. However, it was not to be, for her father told them that he was going into a teaching career, and would become even more powerful than before. He visited with them only a few minutes before he was off again. Quesse let him go, knowing in her heart that she could never truly love him, and knowing that she would probably never see him again.

Elear, feeling sorry for his great granddaughter, decided to take her on a trip. Instead of going straight back to Bolder, he took her on a journey through the Shivering Wood and Steppe of Kruswik. They went through Elsreth and Paelelon, where the Eophyrhim, and whom were acceptant of her despite her human blood, as she was very elven indeed. Many of them knew Elear, it seemed, and open their arms to her and called her “friend.” They passed around the Seanian Swamps and through the merry Alianian Hills, where she met hobbits. She stayed and laughed with them a while, and they grew quite fond of her and her sweet laughter. In Istarin, she met the Jhelhellrhim elves, who seemed interested and drawn to her as an elf-like human, and were indeed quite accepting of her, both for her elfishness and for her relation with Elear, whom was known in the tribe.

Passing around the Ancythrian Sea, they rode through Jernais and Thaelon. Much to Quesse?’ displeasure, they met no light elves, though she felt something magical in the air, and felt as though there was always someone watching her with invisible eyes. They went to Voldar and returned to Bolder after several months of traveling. She had already turned 13.

Quesse finished her education before most of the other elves, and by the age of 18 had learned what most elves, because of their lifespan, take decades to learn. By this time she had gained many friends, but had developed even more skills with nature. Much of her free time had been spent outside and she had learned and noticed many things about the woods and the birds. She learned how to listen to the forest and feel the car’all of the trees and the leaves and the ground beneath her feet. She could hear their voices, their song, their laughter and tears.

Animals seemed curiously drawn to Quesse, though most were too timid to come very near. She learned, though, to listen to the birds and in doing so learned their different languages and gestures, and though they were often too shy to come down to meet her, they spoke for her and looked to her as a friend, as one of them, in a way. She loved them and they, in some way, loved her and were curious of her. Often she would have dreams of flying through a starry night, over the hills and trees.

By 20 the elf in her blood was beginning to take effect, and though there was only 1/8th of elf in her blood, her aging still slowed a bit, and made her look younger than she really was. Elear saw that his granddaughter was turning into a young adult right before his eyes. When Quesse left to find adventure, Elear found it hard to let go. He had been used to children staying at few centuries more before they left, but Quesse promised to come back. When he realized that nothing he could say could stop her, he bought her a dapple gray female horse named Merielle. If she wouldn’t stay, then "let her ride like the wind.”

Quesse proceeded to journey across Santharia and through Santhala, where she met an array of different races including dwarves and Brownies, as well as a few gnomes and hobbits. She went through the Paelelon and met-up with many Eophyrhim elves that recognized her: and a good thing, too, for one was drawing his bow to shoot her through the heart! After all, humans are not much loved within the borders of Paelelon.

She rode with Merielle to the forests of Zeiphyrian, where she was very taken by the spirit of the Quaelhoirhim. The feeling was indeed quite mutual, as many of these elves became quite smitten with this darling human who seemed so close to nature and so understanding of the world. However, her travels lead her onward and soon she stumbled into the Auturian forests, coming across the Tithinrhim, who, like their Quaelhoirhim cousins, grew very curious of Quesse. Many believed that she was an elven spirit stuck in a human’s body. She learned a bit about the ways of the tribe before heading off again.

Quesse indeed met many and had a few adventures on her pilgrimage to Avennoria, but soon arrived there with no more than a few scratches and an empty space in her money pouch. She knew her father to some degree, had met him and seen what he was like, and had decided that she was nothing like him. She wanted to see the land where she was born and where her mother had lived and died. Arriving after nearly a year of travel, for she had passed through many a village and town and had learned a great deal, she arrived at Avennoria and visited her mother’s grave. She earned money by selling the fish she caught and by doing chores for others. She let her horse nonchalantly graze and play in a pasture nearby.

All the while she explored and asked and questioned, finding paintings of her mother: a lovely young woman with very elven characteristics and beautiful eyes they seemed to look into one’s soul and see all their thoughts and desires. She seemed very innocent, though, in all her paintings, and somehow small, like herself. She found the midwife who had helped to give birth to her living in the house her mother had once lived in: keeping it for when the master (that is, Quesse’s father) finally returned. There amongst the old clothing and boxes and shelves she found a necklace of her mother’s, and heirloom perhaps, and indeed quite old, for it was made of mithril.

She also found another resident in the house: a lazy, and pregnant, Avenor-Brendolian cat of dark gray and white. The midwife, Eleanor said that the cat, named Marcy, was the kitten of her mother’s cat, whom had died from sorrow after the death of Quesse’s mother. Often times Marcy would contently sit in Quesse’s lap whilst Eleanor spun tales of the former mistress of the house. And Quesse listened with an undying appetite for the stories.

She spent almost three years among these people, learning to fish as they did and talking to those who knew her mother. By the time she was ready to leave, Marcy’s kittens were born and Quesse eyed one, a runt for sure, that was often pushed aside and unable to suckle the milk of its mother. The kitten was of a tabby pattern and gray from head to tail with one white streak from its neck to its belly. Quesse nursed it with cow’s milk and it became strong, though fairly small, too. When Quesse left the town on the back of Merielle, the kitten came with her, by now affectionately named “Dabble.”

She wandered to Klinsor where she had been told her grandfather lived as a clock-maker. She still vividly recalls, after asking about to find where his shop was located, wandering through the doors with a little gray kitten on her shoulder, and seeing clocks all about the room, all ticking simultaneously, in perfect rhythm and staying on the same beat. The hands upon their faces all moved together and Quesse was left wide-eyed, staring in awe at the many styles and shapes, and yet at the sound of their ticking which seemed to unite them all in a common melody. She saw her grandfather sitting there, the years hardly showing upon his face, carving the base of a clock. He looked up at her and he must have seen her mother in her, for his eyes widened and he welcomed her.

She stayed with him for many months, talking to him of what had happened since her birth and where she had stayed, what had become of her father and all the things she had seen and done. He was very impressed with her and they often talked together. Quesse could see the bit of insanity in him that her father saw, but did not see it as insanity, but uniqueness: a strangeness that made him so utterly beautiful in her eyes.

She moved southwards, into the forests of Sharadon, where the Maeverhim dwell, and was curious about them, as they were unlike any elf she had met. Their dark fingernails and faded irises were a bit startling, but she spent time among them and learned of their ways, and became very accepting in the same way they grew to accept her. She eventually moved to the Razah Dath desert.

She spent a 2 years among the Shendar people (during which she got three earrings in her left ear) and among the artists and bards of Bardavos before she took a ship to the town of Chylikis where she met the Black Butterfly Rovers, and traveled through Quallian where she and the Black Butterfly Rovers were hesitantly welcomed by the Yifferhim elves. The elves were fairly isolated and were not at all used to having Rovers wander in, but they seemed to embrace the morals of the Rovers and were very impressed with Quesse. Indeed the human greatly enjoyed the company of these elves and loved to hear their stories and their musical voices. They shared tales and taught her a bit of their native language and by the time she left with the Black Butterflies some of the Yifferhim called her “daughter.”

She moved with the Rovers to the Vale of Brownies, and stayed there amongst them while the Rovers moved on. She was very interested in their way of life, in their history, which she had not been as educated in as she would have liked. The brownies seemed more than happy to talk of their history, about Keekoo and Graybark and their lore. She learned a few words of Browniin, but not nearly enough to have a conversation. She left the Vale and continued onward.

She met many friends as she traveled, and moved along the Anios Gap into the Steppe of Kruswik. From there she took the same path she had taken years before: through Elsreth, Paelelon, the Alianian Hills, Istarin, Jernais, and Thaelon, By the time she had returned to Boldar Forest, she was over 32, but still looked no older than 21. Her twelve years of travel did not show in wrinkles upon her face but rather in the brightness of her eyes.

She stayed in Boldar forest for a while. Elear was happy to see her again and many of the elves, especially the younger generations, greatly enjoyed her stories and loved to hear of her adventures. She had many adventures, after all, and there were many tales to tell and things to teach. By this time her horse, Mirielle, was not only growing old, but also pregnant. She bore a colt of dark gray, and Quesse named him Shator.

For a while she stayed among those with whom she had grown up with, the closest family she had ever known, but after a few years her heart grew restless for travel and she went to the Silver Marshes, meeting more hobbits, those of Helmondsshire. They grew quite fond of her, for she would happily listen to their tangents about history and family relations, about their achievements and recognitions. The children seemed very smitten with her, as it was not often they saw strangers, and they found the stories she told them exciting and new. By the time she was on her way to Nyermersys, the Hobbits of Helmondsshire had accepted her whole-heartedly. She went up into Astran and as far north as Calamarios, where she could feel the presence of elven spirits and heard the trees speak their tales in an unknown tongue. She then rode down through Ishmarin and back to Boldar. Shator was taken with her on her little journey through the north, but not ridden until he was old enough to bare Quesse’s weight.

She made her way to Milkengrad from where she, Dabble, and Shator sailed to Strata and then made their way to the Norong Sorno Volcano. She had heard it was the tallest place in all of Santharia and when she saw the mighty Volcano, she certainly believed it! She watched it from a distance. Some nights she thought she saw a dragon flying through the air, when it was too dark to see if it was truly a winged beast or merely a passing cloud.

She took a boat to Caelum with Shator, meeting the Thrumgolz tradesmen there, and then to the Ilian Plateau. She then passed by the Aerelian Lakes and Salsair, and then returned to Bolder, now 38, though still looking very much in her twenties. Shator was now big enough to ride, and very trusting of his mistress and the little cat who rode contently on his back. Dabble was also very faithful to Quesse, and very obedient in that he, like his mistress, neither hunt nor ate the meat of birds, save Taenish.

She stayed in her Bolder home for a year, with Elear, talking to him and doing some work to earn money for him before she began off again. Now, remembering the great spires of Ximax and the magical feeling of that city, she has made her way back to it, to see what there is to see, Shator and Dabble with her.

Occupation: Quesse is a ranger in most every respect. She usually makes her money by doing random jobs: sometimes by doing simple chores and errands, other times by being a waitress or barmaid for a while. She has learned how to shoot with her bow to get food if she needs it, but no matter how hungry she gets, will not steal, preferring to wait until she can get enough money or find a place to buy it for herself. At times she will use her knowledge of the land to guide others through it.

She is especially good as a guide because, not only has she just knows the land, but has actually traveled through it, and has relations with almost every tribe of Santharia, and every relation she does have is a good one. However, even among strangers she is able to relate. Her manner is one that appeals to most everyone, and she seems very sincere in her actions and her words.

Weaknesses: Quesse is not as strong as many, and would certainly not be able to handle hard or strenuous labor, although she is able to travel pretty far. She isn’t particularly fast and is not skilled with any weapons accept the bow, and even then she is only moderately skilled with it. She can’t use swords or axes or any such weapons. If forced to fight close-range in serious battle, the consequences, for her, would indeed be fatal.

Quesse, despite having many mages in her family, possesses no magic at all. She doesn’t believe in altering the way things are, that even in the imbalances and imperfections in nature, they are as they are meant to be. Even in life and death, nature is following a natural path, and one that shouldn’t be influenced by magic. The best things come in time, and what should happen will in time, is Ava so dreams for it to. Also, her father’s obsession with his magic studies also makes her a bit unwilling to learn it. She doesn’t want to turn into someone like her father. She thus knows no magic and also cannot really defend against a magic attack.

Stubborness can sometimes be one of Quesse’s traits, but often she keeps it in check. She has a tendency to downplay things that might be important when related to her. For instance, if she is wounded, even if the wound is severe, she’ll try to ignore it, hoping the wound will heal on its down in time. She has trouble receiving help from other people and does not wish to burden others with her problems, but instead share with them only things they might prefer, like stories and tales.

Strengths: Quesse has a deep understanding of nature and the world around her, and how different elements of nature affect others. She is also fairly knowledgeable of the world on a more academic standpoint, having been educated in the Aellenrhim way of life. She knows three different languages: Styrásh, Tharian, and Thergerim. Because of this, she can talk and relate to many people. She is very profound at times, and has a way of making one feel accepted, and has an aura that draws people to her. She thus makes friends easier.

Quesse has a lot of experience in travel under her belt, and has many friends willing to aid her if she needs, though she isn’t often one to go and ask for assistance. She is very knowledgeable, and at times her appearance can deceive one into thinking she knows less than she actually does. She also has a way with words, being fairly well read. Quesse has wonderful endurance and an ability to understand the language of nature, especially of birds, which seem drawn to her, and look to her as a friend.

Because of her travels, Quesse has built some skills such as sewing and herb healing. She also is fairly knowledgeable in the cultures of different tribes, and has learned a lot from traveling around. Having spent a lot of time traveling with horses, she is pretty good on horseback, especially riding bareback.

Possessions: Quesse keeps her wooden short bow (Composite Bow) with her along with a quiver of about 16 arrows. She also carries two daggers, not to fight with, but rather to help her cut the skin of the animals she kills and also uses them to eat if needed. They can also be used for cutting berries and nuts from their vine to eat, and can use them to hold food over the fire to cook without burning her fingers. The daggers she has were gotten from the Black Butterfly Rovers as a token of friendship and are fairly elegant with intricate carvings on the hilt, though now they are a bit faded from use.

Quesse has a few changes of clothes for the different kinds of weather she may come across. She has a white, long-sleeved shirt, fairly loose and comfortable, that she picked up while traveling amongst the Shendar. She has brownish-tan skirt made from deer hide with two slits up either side for maximum mobility, a present from a Tithinrhim along with a bikini-like top. She has a deep bluish-indigo skirt of the same style gotten from the Jhehellrhim. The jean-like pants and shorts that she carries were gotten when she was visiting Avennoria. She also has two cloaks, both of which have hoods. One is brown and the other is gray, and she commonly uses them to help her blend into a crowd, gotten from the Ylifferhim. She has an elegant white dress with wing-like appendages that she picked up from the Meaverhim, as well. She also has a mithril necklace, an heirloom of her mother’s.

Quesse carries many things practical to carry, such as a sewing kit. Often times her clothing may be torn or ripped, or may wear away in some place. For this reason she carried a needle, thread, and some loose cloth with her in case need arises for it. She is also sure to carry bandages and healing herbs. Some of the healing herbs she buys in the cities and towns she comes across in her journeys, but many are found and picked by her own hand, and are kept in a pouch as blue as Nehtor’s skin. She also carries a blanket-hammock in which to sleep.

Animals/Familiars: Shator is Quesse’s horse, a fairly young stallion and also rather fast, with a great deal of energy. He remains very faithful to his mistress, having spent much time around her and seeing her, perhaps, as a second mother in some ways. Being a stallion, as he is, he can be a bit rough and wild sometimes, especially when a stranger tries to touch him or ride him. He can be very temperamental, but is indeed very loving of Quesse. Shator is a dapple gray, fairly dark, with a star on his forehead.

Dabble, as he is affectionately called, was gotten as a runt-kitten in Avennoria. Like Shator, he is a dark gray, but had a streak of white running from his neck to his belly. Though gotten in Avennoria, he does have from Brendolian in him as well as perhaps a bit of the Common Cat blood. His eyes are a kindly blue-green. As a runt, he is fairly small and though he is well into adulthood, still seems like a little kitten given his size. He is very loving of Quesse, seeing her as his mother.

Edited by: Quesse Tindome at: 9/11/03 7:21