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Author Topic: Convergence (Chap IV)  (Read 52733 times)

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Offline EchoMirage

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #150 on: December 23, 2007, 02:41:10 AM »
"If you claim to know them, and believe them less zealous than the rest of their ilk, well then - they may join our path."
Back to the Triguans he turned, measuring them with his glare.
"To you - if you ever plan on cleansing my 'taint', so obvious in my features, attempt it now and let it be done. For if I ever see you with a lynch mob at your back heading towards me, I will call you a coward a thousand times."
Truth be said, the latter was said with less conviction than he wished for - the surprise at the Triguan's mellow response was... unexpected; which happens to be the defining characteristic of most surprises, though.

Shaking his head, he turned away.

"Adminster your help to those in more need of it - I can walk, and the Reaper shows no interest in me so far."

He patted Herald and hummed a serene song into his ear, to relieve him from the fright of battle. "My friend will bear anything too heavy for the rest of you to carry. Let us collect all of use and value, and be done with this place."
« Last Edit: December 23, 2007, 03:34:54 AM by EchoMirage »
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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #151 on: December 23, 2007, 10:18:43 AM »
Kyrian's rage being spent for the moment, Adan simply allowed it to wash over him, turning his cheek slightly. Such hatred...  I wonder what man tried to force the gates of his heart, or if it is some ancient ska?

Addressed now by the inspector, the blonde fighter sighed, and shook his head. "He lives, can talk, and likely walk. But, his body is disrupted." With that, he looked over towards Tristan, a beckoning gesture. "Brother, this one, if it pleases our Lord, and we can likely be on our way. Will you lead us on that path, Sir Knight?"

Offline Murometz

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #152 on: December 23, 2007, 11:43:23 AM »
I Left My Heart in Cottar's Bale.

A return to Cottar’s Bale was in order of course, and upon arrival “Vorodon’s Posse” was feted, fed, and celebrated. Though most of the wounded adventurers-upon-return cared for nothing more than warm, dry beds that night, the next day, and the day after, the Snowmelt Festival was back in full swing, and the companions were involved in every way by the appreciative and impressed villagers.

Talia, for the most part was simply gawked at, both her hair and beauty capturing the imaginations of humans and ogres alike. Aerex kept a quiet profile, often spending time with Talia, and exploring the nearby hills when he wanted to be alone and think his thoughts. HE stopped in on Maegla and gave her coin, and tousled  Lil’ Bross’ head, when the fast-growing, little bugger rushed to wrestle Aerex down playfully.

Kyrian took full advantage of the freely provided hospitality and attention. The elf dined on roast goose, drank mead, shared stories of his gladiatorial pit-fights, and tales of his homeland with the rapt villagers, and trained with Herald and his blade, with crowds of humans and ogres watching his martial dances. Most of all he was hailed as the “Bearer of the Bastard’s Head”, and Borgradoc’s head was in fact paraded about the village on a long wooden pole for all to see.

On the second night, Vorodon was proclaimed a Great Hero of Cottar’s Bale, an honor given to only twenty seven ogres over the centuries, and no other half-ogres before him.

He served as the judge of the Snowmelt Maiden pageant, and spent some time with the winner, inside the chief’s Hall, thought he would not speak to anyone of what may have transpired. The next morning, Vorodon even found time to visit with Maegla and “Lil’ Bross”, as well as visiting with relatives and breaking bread with them.
   
The recovered and recovering, Tristan and Adan, mostly kept to themselves, though they could not decline Vorodon’s fervent invites to return to Cottar’s Bale with the group, after the slaying of the Verbeeg. Both men gave out alms to the poorest families of the village. During evening feasts they would exchange ‘pleasantries’ with Kyrian, who was still undecided on his acceptance of the holy rollers.

They visited the local altar to Gor’am the Purifier and heard of other Ogrish demigods and saints, but kept mostly quiet, taking this time to recuperate and quiz the villagers on the best route to Jantir. Tristan for his part, did reacquaint himself with his former companions, as they spoke of Ganse and their respective adventures since the split.

Kasin Mirinar also accepted the invite. The mysterious man said little of himself, but was friendly enough, though he always seemed as if he was in search of something or in a hurry to go somewhere. Occasionally he would check his satchel, examining its contents, but said next to nothing about what may lie within its confines or his plans, other than indicating he was likewise heading for Jantir.

After several days of celebrations and good-byes, the adventurers-upon-return decided to return to the seeming never-ending “road” to Jantir. After visiting the various smiths of Cottar’s Bale and provisioning themselves, the companions gathered on the village edge.

Vorodon announced that the easiest way would be to descend into the Ethddos Gorge and make way across that desolate valley, until its gradual decline toward the south, where they would rise up again, and find an actual paved road, this one leading to the city gates.
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Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

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Offline Murometz

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #153 on: December 23, 2007, 11:46:53 AM »
The Road to Jantir

Vorodon announced that the easiest way would be to descend into the Ethddos Gorge and make way across that desolate valley, until its gradual decline toward the south, where they would rise up again, and find an actual paved road, this one leading to the city gates.

Unlike the Dynast’s Way, that famous road which stretched for hundred of miles east and north from Jantir, penetrating the Empire’s acquired lands, like a snake on constant vigil all the way to Nimz, the Sea Road, which came into Jantir from the north and west, hugging the coast, then briefly turning east by south-east and ending at Jantir’s gates, was much less traveled, due to the wild, untamed lands which surrounded its contours, and the inclement weather. This was the very road the adventurers-upon-return came across after three more days of uneventful travel.

And upon seeing the wide path, once they emerged on the south side of the Ethddos Gorge, the companions were a bit surprised to find that it was quite a busy thoroughfare, with pilgrims, robed monks, priests, and common traders, all moving along the road, like one great caravan. Though there was some comradery between the traveling groups of people, there were few arguments or standoffs, each making their way and steering clear of others. There were several instances of shared bread and even some trading and commerce going on among the moving throngs. There was in fact little empty space along the road, between the various wagons, carriages, horses and walking men, though the procession seemed peaceful enough, as they all meandered toward Jantir.

Though the companions drew stares to be sure as they neared the road, they were used to these, and as soon as the various travelers ascertained that they posed no immediate or outward threat (despite the fearsome looking ogre), they were ignored and left to their own devices.

It was as if for the first time in a long time, the adventurers-upon-return came upon civilization. There were more people upon the road now in plain sight, than the entire population of depressing Ganse had inside its decrepit walls. And the companions were not as of yet even inside the City proper.      

Though its could not be seen as of yet, the Sea made its presence as well, as a familiar to some, unfamiliar to others briny aroma, danced on the breeze.

Twas’ only a full day’s long march from here, until the vivid blues and greens of the Bay of Screaming Eagles would come into view, as well as the onion domes and spires of Jantir, where a Great Convergence was taking place.

As the companions continued along the Sea Road, Dachas came into view far to each side of the thoroughfare, seaside and hilly estates of Jantir’s well-to-do and influential. Not surprisingly, there were mounted guards stationed here in small clusters along the road. Armed and wary of stragglers who may have been tempted to veer off toward one of the palatial demesnes, with mischievous intent, the men kept constant vigil.
Authentic Strolenite™©®

Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline the Wanderer

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #154 on: December 23, 2007, 07:19:57 PM »
The long trip to Jantir was a nice reprieve from the past week of hard travel and near death. The smell of sea air refreshed and revived Kasin, remembering the port city he spent most of his youth in.

The group of adventurers had been civil enough, their company enjoyable.
Vorodon gave him the chance to brush up on his ogrish, which was more than he expected of the rather imposing man. He genuinely liked the brute, especially when he loosened up and spoke freely and comfortably in his native tongue. It turned out that he had quite the wit, a surprise to say the least. He reminds me of Ginamen of the North…

Adan, although a bit “devout” for his tastes, was a pleasant and helpful man. He was, after all, responsible for keeping him at least hovering on Death’s door until proper healing could be done. Better remember to thank him for saving my life…

The knight, though quite a sight mounted and in his armor, seemed a bit…unreachable. Obviously high born, that one…

The one called Tristan seemed well enough not noticing him at the moment, which suited him fine. One less complication to contend with…

Talia, the strange gypsy, seemed innocuous enough. Quiet and a bit reserved, he almost dared to approach her. Remembering the last barmaid he spoke to, and the sting that ended that conversation, he kept his distance. Business first…he reminded himself.

The one that concerned him most was the one called Aerex. Obviously a lawman of some sort by his manner, he also seemed to look toward Kasin a little more often than he found comfortable.
And then there was his pack….the tell-tale rounded bulge he had been so curious about; the whole reason for seeking out the adventurers in the first place.
I have to get a glimpse! I only need the opportunity…

Keeping to himself was always a good bet, but getting past the city gate would prove not so easy. He realized this strategy may not work this time. Hopefully he would be accepted enough to pass with the adventurers.

Just remember….Kasin Mirinar, advisor to Lord Regnant Imshreen of Har Rhun. Reaching into his robes he produced a sealed message. This will do nicely…

He fell into the ranks just behind and to the left of Vorodon.
"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats."
~Henry L Mencken

Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #155 on: December 23, 2007, 08:05:15 PM »
For most of the journey itself, Adan rode in taciturn silence, talking little, and then, almost solely to the Brother of Trigu who was his companion before. For the most part, indeed, he was content to consider the strange folks that fate had placed him next to on this leg of his journey. In a way, after Cotter's Bale, it almost been pleasant to return to the road, to it's now familiar rhythms. Landeel Keep had always been a quiet place, secreted away in the deep woods, and the boister of the ogre's community had been both surprising and discomfiting. And he knew Great Jantir, city of men, could not be much better.

At least the traffic upon the Sea Road seemed orderly, for the greatest part, and Adan was grateful to his Lord that there was little need for him to keep the peace this day, and only in part for his own peace of mind. And as they came closer to Jantir, he pulled close to Tristan's side, riding up from his habitual place as the last in line, looking over at the other from the back of the destrier upon which he rode. "Brother, when we enter the city, may I accompany you to His temple? It is a selfish thing I ask, I know, to associate with one such as I there, but I will need help to find the aid I so sorely require. I have been several months upon the road, und ich habe Angst..." As he spoke, his voice was low and quiet, and as he slipped into his native tongue at the end, shaken, even to the point of disturbance.


Offline Ria Hawk

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #156 on: December 23, 2007, 11:20:36 PM »
Talia had never been to Jantir.  The caravan had always swung around it, missing the great city entirely on the yearly circuit they made.  Though whether that was just because Master Konos had preferred the caravan's settled stops or if he'd had a more definite reason for avoiding the city she couldn't say.  It looked pleasant enough.  She had mixed feelings, though.  On the one hand, the best lead she had about her father's whereabouts was the capital; on the other hand, city folk and gypsy folk seldom saw eye-to-eye, and from her experience, city guards generally took a citizen's side rather than a stranger's.

Now that she was here, Talia had to wonder about a few things.  Like if she'd recognize her father; she hadn't seen him since she was a very small child and the memory was very fuzzy at best.  She also wondered what she'd do when and if she did find him.  Her plans had never gotten that far.  She'd often thought about meeting him, but she had never honestly thought about how that conversation would unfold, or what either of their reactions would be.

It could wait; there were other things to take care of at the moment.  Like finding a weapons-smith.  The smith in Cotter's Bale had wanted to be helpful, but he simply wasn't up to the task of sharpening exotic weapons like her fans.  She'd elected to wait until reaching Jantir; surely *someone* could do it.  She turned to Aerex.  "Can you help me find where the weapons-smiths are?  I don't know this town, and I don't want to get lost."  Or get in to more trouble than necessary, but that didn't need to be said.
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Offline Chaosmark

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #157 on: December 23, 2007, 11:33:05 PM »
"Certainly Brother. All who come in peace are welcome in Our Trigu's temple. You should know this, even after falling on the way. You and all the others are more than welcome. But what aid do you require? Surely you know by now that I'd give you whatever help you need." He looked around, enjoying the peaceful landscape and the calm, if large, crowd of people. He had only seen a crowd like this once or twice before, as a little boy. He tried not to gawk too much. Must keep up some appearances, even if they mattered nothing in the end.

He continued looking around, soaking in what seemed like a totally new life given him. Ever since the fight with the verbeeg above the valley, he had been seeing everything in a new light, as if seeing it all for the first time, as a newborn child might. Whatever it was, whether divine or mundane in origin, he was more than happy to enjoy and revel in it.
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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #158 on: December 23, 2007, 11:56:36 PM »
Aerex nodded to Talia.  "Sure, it shouldn't be a problem," he said reassuringly.  "Jantir's got plenty of smiths."  Aerex had felt particularly refreshed walking along the gorge trail, ever closer to the Great City.  It was more than simple excitement about going "home," however - Jantir no longer felt quite like home.  It was the city of his demise, of great changes, of ideas and loyalties that were becoming less familiar to him.  He looked forward to seeing the glittering metropolis, but was anxious too.

Matare watched a group of Dalraaenite monks pass by.  There were bigger fish to fry than his own worries.  "We need to figure out how to track down this guy who may be your father," he said to Talia.  "If he's as big a shot as we think he is, he might be hard to get close to."
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Offline EchoMirage

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #159 on: December 24, 2007, 03:56:46 AM »
Ah, the pulse of life, trickling into the heart of the world that was Jantir. Every person surrounded by an aura of emotion, his desires and wants, moving, breathing, cheering or weeping - and Jantir had millions of them. Was it home? Perchance. Of one he was certain - he loved it.

Cheering from chek to cheek, he whistled, and then simply had to tell his companions of all the wondrous placs they might see.

"The singing temple to Hamanshet, the lady of the sea, that one is sure a place to visit - fountains in abundance, water-lilies of colors unseen, waterfalls instead of walls, and priestesses in silk, pearl and shell, of spirit and temper truly unmatched!

Or perchance right next to it, the Voyager's market, with produce from all over the world, and especially fish and seafod - tell them, Aerex: some of the delicacies there are truly worth the coin, or for the less comercially minded, a little subterfuge and a run to safety!

Above the harbor, aside from turmoil and aroma of the docks, Halgar Borenkag and grandma Gudrun have claimed the old watchtower on Griffon Cliff and made it into the nicest pension in town; despite them being dwarves, I tell you best breakfast in town, hearty and meaty. You might grow to love it, Vorodon - cabbage and dumplings and pork, pork-filled pierogis, pork roulade, and pork-and-chese fondue. Also, their daughter is fair indeed, unexpected amongst the small folk. Though, be careful not to eye her too intensely, her father keeps an enchanted battleaxe under the bar.

Beneath the Westwind Gate's Viaduct, Bandor "the Joker" Varski thinks up contests for the guests at his inn - every day, something entertaining can be partaken in, or surveyed from a safe distance. Also, his pasta is decent, with a good selection of the spices. On the other hand, forget his wines and go for the beer.

Actually, Wagner's alehouse has a fine selection of lagers, and bards drink for free there, at least as long as they manage to play.

On the other hand, Shandra's - actually called the Phoenix Ascendant - can boast excellent service, music, enchanting staff, luxurious rooms and of course Shandra herself, but the prices are not for the weak of wallet. I blame her for not being a rich man today.

Bartholomey may openly be a thief, or rather, former thief, with the hook hand to prove it, but he charges his customers fairly; his sortiment is varied indeed, if you are not overly concerned about the origin of his merchandise. Fear not, for he sells distinctive items stolen in Jantir elsewhere, and brings in loot from aboard. Ironically, you can find him in the Broken Cobble Street, a stone's throw away from the Palace of Justice. The distinguished gentlemen within care little, for he pays the watch protection money.

Alas, he's not a crafter, but the fine hard-working gentlemen in the Granite Quarters are. A dwarven district may be dangerous for the elven of blood and careless of mouth to walk into, but the people within work all day. Truth be said, they milk the fat cow that is Jantir well enough; they look the part of hard-working plebeians, but from what I have observed, they must be resting on beds of gold by now. Truth be continued, they earned every penny.

For the less hard-working amonst us, money can be won in the arena, for the amusement of common man and noble alike, if you can stomach a little wrestling, or a little blood. I would not advise you to go to the gambling houses though - they are rigged, an belong to the worst sort of businesmen; the victory there does not depend on on your wit or skill, but the whim of the establisment's master. Should you venture in there, and happen to win, be sure to leave at once, for otherwise, you would be stripped even of the hair on your behind, for what it may be worth."

Stopping to catch breath, he grinned at his compainions.

"I feel more alive with every step I take towards it. Jantir is fun. You get cutpurses and muggers to keep you in shape, the city watch if you want to play a prank or two; the city never sleeps. Ever alive, ever vibrant."

His memories tied to the place were alive, as the day he left to join the Order three long years ago.
« Last Edit: December 24, 2007, 04:39:11 AM by EchoMirage »
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Offline Ria Hawk

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #160 on: December 24, 2007, 10:19:16 AM »
"I just hope I can find a smith who works besides common swords, daggers, and what have you.  These belonged to my grandmother, I don't want to chance having an amateur work them."  She laughed at the second part of Aerex's comment.  "Oh, come on.  You really don't believe what that awe-struck and slightly muddle-headed guardsman in Ganse said, do you?  The odds of my father being anyone of importance are vanishingly small.  But of course, that," she said after considering, "will make it all the harder to find him.  I just hope he's not a sailor or some such; only the ancestors would know where he was then."
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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #161 on: December 24, 2007, 03:51:03 PM »
"My atonement will require deed, Brother, as much as faith. I would speak to the learned and faithful Brothers here, in order to seek their aid in reopening my eyes and heart to the Lord... And to seek the knowledge to deal with the ska. I will need help to find those ones." Adan's voice was low, as he spoke beneath the words of the elven knight to his Brother, having intimate enough knowledge of the Jantir of several years past to recall the tourist's packet of information, and to add to it in his mind, Such hives of scum and villainy. I did not miss this place at all.

Ears sharp enough to pick up some of Talia's words, though not all, the withdrawn man finally spoke. "Seek among the Granite Quarter, fair lady. You may chance to find one who has such skill that he may care for all manner of weapons. You would not care to pay the price of those who specialize in the exotic and the concealable."

Sister, I shall recall to write you, as well, whilst messengers are here to be had.

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #162 on: December 27, 2007, 11:36:34 PM »
A Brief Glimpse of Jantir

The gates were open now as a new cluster of travelers was allowed inside, by the ever-vigil guard, perched like birds of prey upon the wall, and peering below at the latest arrivals.

The companions entered  Jantir and an almost immediate assault of the senses began. The air smelled of the sea, of frying oils, and of musky human scents, both pleasant and otherwise. The city was over-ripe with visitors, and the air suffered for it.

Their eyes took in the wide boulevard, wrought of ancient sea-stone, presenting itself to the companions, stretching east and south across the city toward the temple districts, the docks and the bay. Minarets and spires of granite and porphyry, onion domed halls and temples with shining, gilded crests dominated the city center. The ears of the companions were likewise bombarded (shockingly so after all those months in the wilderness) by a cacophony of sounds, too many all at once to identify any single source. Numerous stalls, filled with screaming hawkers lined the great street, with every imaginable item for sale. Though proper markets were deeper inside the city, enterprising (and licensed) merchants, second-rate craftsmen, and most likely charlatans galore, were taking advantage of the influx of travelers. Shamelessly, the hawkers goaded all passers-by, the adventurers-upon-return included, as the group began to slowly stroll east along the boulevard. some were home, some returned with past memories of the city, and some were in complete bewilderment (Voro?)

An uncountable swarm of people, paraded the streets, with a particular emphasis on the religiously-inclined. Priests of every known and unknown faith, cultists, pagans, prophets, monks, penitents, worshipers, wise-men, and fools, proliferated up and down the boulevard preaching their respective causes and debating dogma beneath the shining sun. Guards, mounted and on foot were everywhere, many wearing various stylized bird-headed helms, indicating rank and office. A recent tradition, these helms were the latest whim of Larnassa, the Split-Lipped self-styled “Queen” and the Jantir’s current Dynast, as Aerex soon learned inquiring of a random passer by, as to the nature of the weird helms of the guardsmen.

Further ahead the Temple district could be seen, it could after all not be mistaken for any other district, and it was in this direction, the companions noticed, where the most people seemed to be congregating, as dusk began to fall. The streets were nearly impassable this way, and even Adan and Tristan chose to wait before heading there upon their holy business.

The companions continued down the main boulevard taking in the sites, each silent, thinking their own thoughts, until finally Kyrian and Aerex suggested the group head to an inn, eat, rid the dust of the road from their throats with drink, and speak of plans.

For the next few moments, as Talia and Vorodon continued gawking at the sites, while Adan and Tristan began conversing quietly and Kasin Mirinar simply looked around nervously as if searching for or trying to remember something, Aerex and Kyrian were busy arguing as to which inn the companions should visit. Finally, because splitting up would be so easy to do later, the two agreed on humble Wagner’s establishment in Windside. Kasin Mirinar, overhearing the conversation agreed to play the bard, as Wagner’s was famous for allowing its patrons free ale and sausage for those inclined to perform for their suppers.

Windside, and therefore Wagner’s, was also strategically somewhat away from the hustle and bustle of the central districts, and furthermore, Aerex remembered that Wagner’s was a favorite haunt of someone he knew quite well. It was decided upon, and the group headed to Wagner’s. An hour later, Kyrian scolded the stable boy into treating Herald, as if he was the gods’ own mount, and the group entered the establishment.

It was almost as if Jantir came and went in a blur, Talia thought. It seemed impossible to get a sense of the metropolis upon first go around.

Jantir, and its many sights and wonders would have to wait. Wagner’s was busy, but not as packed as other places around town. For now, the surroundings were familiar. Smoke, loud music, and an absolutely amazing amount of smoked sausages, making their way around the taproom on silver platters, courtesy of a beleaguered staff, were the main sites in Wagner’s. Just now, a sorry excuse for a free-loafing bard was physically tossed from the impromptu stage for sounding like a cuckoo in heat.

A table was found, and for the first time in a long time, seven members of the adventurers-upon-return sat down to dine together, though each one, could be bothered with little other than their own thoughts.

<ooc> Kinda like a transition post. You can post, or wait. Either way, I'll post anew tomorrow</ooc>
« Last Edit: December 28, 2007, 11:30:34 AM by Murometz »
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Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline Dozus

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #163 on: December 28, 2007, 12:23:33 AM »
Aerex quietly nursed his ale mug, ignoring most of the activity around him and simply staring out the window.  It was a lot to take in; the city hadn't been this crowded in years.  The familiarity of the metropolis was distantly refreshing, like a memory renewed by reminiscing with an old friend.  Even so, Jantir still stunk - both literally and figuratively.  He'd spotted at least two constables he knew to be corrupt still on duty.  Perhaps they'd been reprimanded or demoted or something - anything - but it was unlikely.  Jantir's not changed a bit, he thought.  Out the window, he could see the Grand Ramparts that kept imagined enemies out and the hordes of citizens in.  He spotted a niche near one of the parapets, unchanged since he'd last seen it.

* * *
Damiel grunted, shifting his weight on the unsteady pile of bricks sitting at the foot of the wall.  "Can y'see it?" he asked.

"Yeah," Aerex responded distantly, in a hush.  Pop pushed him up higher, high enough to grab onto the ledge and steady himself as he looked over the Grand Ramparts and out into the countryside.  Below were the vendors and merchants he'd always heard hawking wares outside the gates, the many travelers meandering in from the highway, soldiers in shining war gear keeping watch over the jewel that was Jantir.  In the distance, rolling hills ran into smashing seas, the brilliant setting sun gilding the scene in golden light.  The boy's eyes could hardly take it all in.  "Hey Pop."

"Yeah?" Damiel replied.

"Y'think we'll ever leave the city?"

Damiel smirked.  "Well now why would we go an' do somethin' like that?" he asked.  "Jantir's the place to be, boy.  Matares've been making their mark here for nigh on five - no, six generations.  Why change what works?"

Aerex shurgged, the breeze brushing dark hair into his face.  "Iunno.  I bet there's lotsa stuff out there."  He poked his head downward.  "Come look."

The two shifted positions enough so that they were both wedged in the tall crack of the rampart, looking out into the horizon.  "It does look somethin' spectacular, son," Damiel said quietly.  "From here, at least.  Y'know what else is out there, though?  There's ogres an' giants an' bandits an' rampaging hordes of Whosits and Whatsits."  His jaw tightened.  "Lots out there that's ready to squish you like a bug.  In here, we get all the good stuff and not so much of the bad stuff.  Make sense?"

Aerex fidgeted.  "I guess so."  He had seen enough "bad stuff" for a six year old.  Only one murder, but enough muggings and sneakings and robberies.  Between the dirty streets of the city and the distant monsters of the outside world, he'd take his chances on those golden hills.  "I wish it were better in here."

Damiel looked down at his son, then nudged him with his elbow.  "Hey, you listen here.  You wanna see somethin' change here?  Then change it.  Only way it'll ever get done."  He shifted uncomfortably.  "Dynast's toes, this hole's too small for the two of us.  I'm gettin' down."  He shfited and slipped down onto the ground a few feet below Aerex.  "Y'almost done?"

Aerex nodded.  "Yeah, okay."  He began to shift his weight down when he heard something from above.  He looked over to his right down the wide wall - nothing.  "Pop?" he asked.  Aerex looked down to see the heel of his father's boot, attached to his swiftly moving legs.  Before he could utter a sound, Damiel disappeared into the shadows of an alley.  "P-!"  Before he could finish the syllable, Aerex felt something grab his shirt and yank him upward.

He met face to face with a burly, stubbled creature wearing the browns and blues of the Royal Guard.  "Wot's this?" he sneered.  "Li'l man tryin' to sneak up the wall, eh?"  He jabbed Aerex in the chest with his finger, still holding the boy aloft.  "You know what the punishment is fer trespassin' on the Dynast's wall?"  All Aerex could do was shiver and recoil in fear.

"Let 'im down, Rill," another voice came from behind.  Aerex's frightened eyes shifted to see another tall, burly guard, but this one was grinning slightly.  A thick blond mustache hung from his lip.  "Kid found a hole in our wall, that ain't his fault.  Hell, we should be thankin' him."

Rill grunted, lowering Aerex onto the wall.  "I dunno 'bout that, Anton.  Er, Lieutenant Therond now," he corrected himself.

Therond crossed his arms.  "Well I do, Deputy Typas.  An' I'm sayin' we should be thankin' him."  He took a step forward and squatted down to Aerex's level.  "What's yer name, boy?"

Aerex gulped.  "A- Aerex Matare, sir."

Therond nodded, smiling.  "Well, thank you for finding that hole in our wall, Mr. Matare.  We'll make sure to fix it.  You jus' make sure not to climb it again.  Ain't too safe, eh?"  Aerex nodded awkwardly.  Therond grinned and slapped a hand on his shoulder.  "Off with ya, boy.  Stay outta trouble."

Aerex nodded, scrambled down the wide crack in the wall, and ran off away from the wall.  Wondering where his father was, he began to weep.

* * *
Matare took a long swig, draining the rest of his ale mug.  He sighed.  "Jantir looks better when it's not so crowded," he said almost out of the blue to Talia.  "You'll have to see it again after the convergence."
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Offline Ria Hawk

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #164 on: December 28, 2007, 08:46:11 AM »
"I don't know," Talia said to Aerex after a moment.  "Cities are all well and good for a few days, maybe even a month.  But it's so noisy here... it's like there's a desperation to get all you can.  And everything is so large and there's so much of it, it's hard to get any kind of sense of the city."  She looked around idly.  She didn't yet know how much she liked the great city.  The architecture she'd seen was nice, yes, but a city was comprised of more than buildings.  So far, the city overwhelmed her; she was used to much smaller towns and a much less cacaphonous existance.  She didn't really like being overwhelmed.  She finished off her own ale.  "I suppose that most of the swarms of people are here for this Convergence, then?"
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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #165 on: December 28, 2007, 11:08:21 AM »
"Ah, it's the people who make Jantir, otherwise it would amount to little more than a town of ghosts. It's the people who are it's blood, both the virtuous and the wicked. And the crowds? Jantir is known to welcome everyone into its fold, like a good-hearted harlot, interested in but your pleasure and your coin. 'Tis true that you can find yourself drugged and nude as the day you were born, or on the wrong side of her pimp, who wears a crown instead of a feathered hat, but that are the risks of life."

He sipped from a mug of thick black beer, and poked Aerex with his elbow: "At least inside the city, the muggers are closer to our size, than the highwaymen, or rather highwayhulks, in the mountains. Of course, in these days, we have the danger of clergy running rampant with the nearing of the Convergence. Still, most clerics give you a choice about whether your money lands in their coffers. As to answer your question, Talia - yes, Jantir is about one percent less crowded when there is no Convergence."

Then, his attention was caught by Mirinar ascending the stage. Kyrian slapped his thigh. "Let's hear if our silent compatriot is in the favor of the Muses, what say you?"
« Last Edit: December 28, 2007, 11:12:52 AM by EchoMirage »
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Offline Wulfhere

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #166 on: December 28, 2007, 02:29:34 PM »
Vorodon's head hurt from trying to decipher unfamiliar symbols and writing that the folk of Jantir took for granted.  Shuffling through the streets, he tried not to give offense, but found the people here just didn't make room for him the way folk from less populous areas had.  Crushed toes and jostled elbows seemed to be commonplace in Jantir's crowded streets.

Near the inn, a shop had caught his eye.  He couldn't make out the strange script of the place's gaudy sign, but a brightly-polished corselet was visible through the glazed windows.  Perhaps this armorer could mend his battered ancestral harness, the Volgottir reasoned.

Ducking through the shop's wide doorway, he could tell that he had come to the right place.  Beautiful examples of the armorer's craft gleamed on tables and stands, and books contained detailed sketches of even more elaborate gear available to those discriminating nobles able to afford the artists' staggering rates. 

The shop's proprietor rushed to intercept the looming goliath, alarm written on his features.  He had several noble customers in the shop, and didn't relish such an oaf interfering with his sale.  "Ogre-thing!  Whoever your master is, has he no sense?  Go around to the back!  My man Fetzenatz will see to you!"

"Vorodon stanns under,"  the massive warrior nodded agreeably as he shambled through the immaculate chamber.  Muddy footprints and tables knocked askew marked his progress through the indignant merchant's once-elegant displays.  To one side, a group of effete-looking noblemen seemed caught between awe and amusement at the awkward brute's trail of destruction.

In the shop's back room, a harried-looking leatherworker energetically snipped picadils into the edges of an armored jousting saddle.  Apparently, this apron-clad man was Fetzenatz.  A large-eyed little girl clung to him, frightened by Vorodon's unkempt arrival.

"Vorodon hofe for to folish armor ancestor harness," the hill warrior requested, pointing to the rusted and dented iron plates of his battle gear.

The leatherworker smiled vacantly back at him, as if the volgottir had been talking in some foreign tongue.  Nodding enthusiastically, the man held up an elegantly-tooled jack adorned with elfin motifs.  "Want for buy arm boulli?"

Vorodon tried not to frown, as he didn't want to further distress the little girl.  "Vorodon armor mud rust!"  He paused to concentrate on the right word order:  The common tongue's strange articles could be hard to remember.  "The... THE mud rust THE armor THE harness my!  Vorodon ned folish."  Having successfully expressed his needs, the half-ogre smiled, which caused the little girl to shrink further behind her father's sheltering apron. 

Fetzenatz smiled again, nodding with apparent comprehension.  "Not foolish!  Mood to buy armor boulli?" he suggested, hopefully.

Suddenly, the proprietor stuck his head in from the front room.  "Fetzenatz has taken care of your request, I trust?  Good, good!" the man offered helpfully, not lingering to hear any possible response.

It was going to be a long day, Vorodon decided.
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Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #167 on: December 28, 2007, 10:10:37 PM »
Though he had said little throughout the meal so far, Adan did, at last, speak, though flatly, with neither distaste or joy. "The protection of walls is welcome, even if too many are within."  Instead, he would have appeared to have spent most of the meal paying more attention to his own table manners than to the conversation, each motion impeccable, despite the rough surroundings. "... And I pray he sings well. I do not think they would care much for the music I have learned here." A brief nod, as if to confirm his own sentences, followed by a shrug, and he fell silent once more. Soon enough, it would be time to leave for the temple.

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #168 on: December 28, 2007, 11:04:55 PM »
Tristan smiled slightly at the small joke, and turned his ear to the stage where Mirinar was standing up to sing. Hopefully he'd sing sweet melodies to the patrons. However, the priest was also fervently praying that the trip to the temple would be uneventful. With this many pilgrims, inter-faith violence was almost inevitable between those of Trigu and those of a more...darker persuasion.
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Offline Murometz

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #169 on: December 29, 2007, 02:23:31 PM »
Temple Ward

Adan, Tristan, Kyrian


In the morning Adan, Tristan, and Kyrian had set out to the temple district, carrying the holy symbols recovered from the verbeeg. Kyrian led the way, pointing out further establishments, wondering out loud as to the whereabouts of various old paramours and even older acquaintances, and commenting on the city at large. Despite the elf’s haughty and sometimes disrespectful manner, the Triguains had accepted the knight, and he in turn them, and a strange trio did they seem, as they strolled along the promenade.

 Adan and Tristan walked quietly for the most part, Adan thinking his sullen thoughts, and painfully reminded of the proximity of the Hellschwert estate, only several miles north and east of the city, while Tristan looked about hoping that the inevitable  inter-faith squabbles were kept to a minimum in the packed streets. To his pleasant surprise they were. A kind of unwritten rule he wagered. After all, with the upcoming symposium, it seemed that even so-called dark cultists and unholy pagans were on their best behaviors. That is not to say that conflicts did not spring up. Just now Tristan noticed two priests, one of the Daalraen faith, one of dour Drowned God, being pulled apart physically by bemused city guardsmen, as both priests shouted great insults at one another at the tops of their lungs, both insisting the other was the blasphemer.

The temple district as it was the previous day, was overflowing with people.

After making their way through throngs of monks and priests, occasionally acknowledged and greeted by other Triguains, the trio approached the temple, and entered the hallowed halls. While Adan and Tristan knelt in prayer, Kyrian scrunched his nose, and looked around. He was dressed in his casual chain shirt now, the Carmine Rose, sheathed at his side, his feline countenance plain for all to see.

Soon Tristan rose, and whispered to a nearby worshiper. The man pointed toward a corridor and Tristan nodded.

“Come” he gestured to the knight and the two went to return the stolen relics and symbols of Trigu, deeper inside the temple proper.
The elven knight had been thanked by the priest who was bequeathed the relics, while Tristan had explained how they had come to possess these items, and of the bravery and ardor of the elf, in the recapture of the items.

Soon after, Kyrian emerged, and walked outside once more, the incense-laden aroma of the temple, beginning to itch his nose. Tristan was still inside inquiring on attending the upcoming Symposium, as was Adan, tending to his own affairs, but the companions had agreed to rendezvous later at another one of Kyrian’s suggested inns, the one where someone named Shalaya, could be found.

Without further ado, having had his fill of the Temple Quarter, the knight strode forth with a beaming smile, toward his chosen establishment, a warm feeling in his heart and loins.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                           
Trigu, our Lord. The same yesterday and to-day and for ever”, sang the kneeling masses, sandwiched along the gilded pews, led by robed senior priests, who were swinging censers of sweet-smelling incense as they led their congregation

“What ails you, man, that you should look so pale and wan? Surely the world’s iniquities."

After making his way through crowded streets and waiting all morning beside Trigu’s temple, Adan was ushered inside by several acolytes of the faith. Quietly he sat a while longer, praying at Trigu’s altar, several rows back form countless other worshippers who had risen even earlier than the Hellscwhert scion had risen, or perhaps had simply slept in the very streets outside the temple the previous night.

After several more hours, he was once more ushered by a nervous-looking acolyte, this time deeper into the temple, and told to sit beside a smaller alter, and to wait. Looking around, Adan could see words etched into the porphyry wall, lit as it was, by several magical sconces, each giving off a divine light but no heat. 

He that hath an ear, let him hear what Trigu saith.

And Adan heard the prayers from the adjacent chamber just then...

O Trigu, ease my head,
O set thy hand against my back;
So many years and I am not dead
But rive in sunder on the rack.



Adan’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a plain-robed man, young, much younger than Adan, with a shorn head, paltry beard, and the deepest blue eyes Adan had ever seen, came up behind him.

No high-priest this was, but a bishop of Jantir’s Temple.

He repeated his words once more, soft and sibilant.

“What ails you, man, that you should look so pale and wan?”
« Last Edit: December 29, 2007, 03:21:00 PM by Murometz »
Authentic Strolenite™©®

Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline Murometz

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #170 on: December 29, 2007, 03:50:42 PM »
Kyrian

“O many a time he flees and flies across the uplands airy,
And fierce he is, and fleet he is, and light and wight and wary,
And bravely famed in faery lore
By many a hunter sought of yore...”


The Ballad of the Panther Unleashed was being sung by a middling bard, as Kyrian strode inside the Once-Proud Goose. Recognizing the knight, the bard in turn nodded, and sang even louder now, a smile playing on his lips between stanzas.   

How apropos, Kyrian thought, adn looked around the establishment, a grin from ear to ear adorning his fine, feline features.   

Shalaya noticed Kyrian as well, but at first pretended she had not, turning toward one of the other patrons instead, and engaging the merchant in idle banter.

“He has not changed at all. He looked the same this day, Shalaya thought, as the day he had left three years ago. She remembered how she had been smitten by the knight after her first sight of him in the gladiatorial arena. She remembered wondering if his flesh-blade was as potent as his steel one. She remembered—a  familiar clump suddenly welled inside her stomach, and seemingly made its way up through her heart and throat.

“Curses. Now he returns. Two weeks too late, ” she thought to herself, even as she nodded, feigning interest in whatever the Dynast’s herald, Shouting Symeon, was saying to her at the moment.

“So, then, milady, as I was saying”, the foppish blonde-haired youth went on, eyeing  Shalaya’s perspiring bosom. “If indeed  I was able to score an invitation to the Split-Lipped Queen’s celebration for you, how will thee favor me in return? Mmm?” he leered lasciviously at her now, oblivious to the fact that Shalaya had not heard a single word, but was instead all a’twitter inside, at Kyrian’s entrance.

"Who's that?" Symeon suddenly spoke before Shalaya could answer him, finally aware that her attention, however subtle, was focused on the the inn's newest visitor, and not on him.

"That, my dear Symeon" Shalaya said, "is Kyrian. Kyrian the slayer, the lover, the betrayer, the scoundrel, the rapscallion and the endlessly wicked" she purred with a twinkle in her sea-green eyes, then turned to face Symeon once more.

"Now then, you were saying, dear Symeon?" she said, not wanting Kyrian to notice her gawking at him.

"Uhh-I-uh" replied Symeon, as he now blatantly stared at the knight.
« Last Edit: December 29, 2007, 03:53:10 PM by Murometz »
Authentic Strolenite™©®

Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline EchoMirage

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #171 on: December 29, 2007, 05:44:52 PM »
"And this, if I am not mistaken - which would be a fool's mistake to make - is Shallaya, the ever-reborn orchid, first to be kissed by the evening dew, and the reason why the sun does rise, the sole cause why the stars do shine" he grinned broadly. "The chief cause of madness in Jantir; six out of seven men to leap off the Dynast's Triumph Bridge die with her name on their lips, scorched with love unrequitted. What mortal could hope to inflame her heart, what man believes himself worthy of her merest glance?"

Closer he came, reminiscing of days past. How he took the humble post of guard at the red-light establishment after his falling-out with his 'aunt', after he left her marble halls and quit the blood-stained sands; how he was a confidant to the working girls, yet to Shallaya so far more.

He reached out, and brushed her cheek lightly. "Now I feel complete" he smiled.

After exchaning a glance with her, he jovially shifted his attention to Symeon, shaking his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, young sir. I hope this noble haven has been soothing to your spirit and senses. Now, if you would excuse us..."
The knight turned away, forgetting the surprised noble.

Shallaya was the one he came to see.
"But a moment of your time in privacy I humbly ask."
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Offline the Wanderer

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #172 on: December 29, 2007, 06:31:16 PM »
Kasin sat quietly at the table. It seemed busy for so early in the day. He waited patiently for the others to arrive.
H pulled out a parchment and ink, quickly scribbling a note. He handed it to the barmaid with the instructions to give it to one of his companions, Aerex.
The room was filling up fast for morning feast. He stood slowly, looking at the innkeeper behind the bar. A promise had been made…

He brushed his long red curls from his face and feigned a scowl.
Come now” the innkeeper shouted “these people asked a song, and now you must sing it!
Hiding a satisfied grin he reached for his travel worn yarting. The crowd quieted, waiting for the bard. Clearing his throat, he strummed the yarting and began to sing...

When the enemy's surrounding,
and we think our nerves will fail,
when we hear the trumpets sounding,
and they make us quake and quail,
grab your mug and we'll be pounding
down another round of ale!
And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!
If there ever comes the day
when we think that we are lost,
when we think that we must pay
that most dear and final cost,
we'll just pass around the tray,
and feel better when we're sauced!
And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!
When we're angry and upset,
'cause we ain't been getting paid,
when we're tired, cold and wet,
and a little bit afraid,
we'll keep drinking and forget
that we ever were dismayed!
And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!
When the boredom makes us jumpy,
and the motion makes us ill,
when the food is cold and lumpy,
a disgusting, slimy swill,
there's no reason to be grumpy;
tap the keg, and drink your fill!
And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!
When the captain's really sore,
'cause he thinks he's being mocked,
when he's pounding on our door,
and we're certain to get socked,
have a drink, and tease him more;
we'll feel nothing if we're crocked!
And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!




The bard finished playing and leaned the yarting on a close chair.
Looking to the door, he said "I am sorry but this story must end for a time." He turned towards his pack as the crowd began to protest.
He strapped on his sword belt and hefted his pack onto his shoulder.
"I must go for a while, I have to meet a friend down the road" he said as he picked up his yarting. He carefully hooked it to his pack and slid his arm through the other strap "but I will return soon, I promise…"
As he headed to the door he shook many of their hands, some of them palming a copper or two for his performance.
He lifted a stout walking staff from a barrel by the door and waved over his shoulder as he left.

And down the road I go…

(Lyrics reprinted by permission)
"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit upon his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats."
~Henry L Mencken

Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #173 on: December 29, 2007, 08:56:02 PM »
Adan - The Bishop's Chambers

Not quite surprised, but not quite expectant of what stood before him, Adan half started, and half smiled at the quiet, simple question and the poetry of it. From where he knelt by the altar, he could only turn slightly, though he did not get up from the ground, even if his eyes might have risen to look at the other. "Many things, my brother, but no more so than mine own error."

"Thine error? Surely thine errors can be fixed with deed and prayer"

And to this, a deep sigh from Adan, as he shook his head softly. "I allowed my eyes to be blinded, sir, and let myself be lead by anger and rage. I have slain, Brother, and the blood of the innocent is upon my hands. And it was no stranger, but mine own blood, my own sibling. I have been cast out in punishment, and I cannot see the way to return..."

At this the bishop paused in thought, cocking his head slightly, his blue eyes seemingly looking through and behind Adan.... “The mind suffers and the body, cries out.” the bishop said then in a whisper, as he momentarily glanced at Adan’s various scars and healing wounds.

And Adan, in response, could merely lower his gaze from those brilliant eyes, assenting to the truth. "Brother..." For a moment, the wounded paladin's eyes closed, leaving it unclear as of he was speaking to the man before him, or another entirely.

“Your sins are terrible, and it is just that you suffer, my Brother. Your life, could be redeemed, but I know that you probably don't believe that right now. You will not change....will you, brother?", the bishop added and cocked his pale-blonde eyebrow.

"I..." A pause, a memory. "... I ... Under His gaze, all things must grow and change, Brother, or else they wither and die. I have been arrogant... Doth that root of sin still lie within me, that I believe ...?" A deep, and wretched breath from Adan, as he sunk even lower, "... I must begin somewhere."

“You see this pebble?” , the bishop asked rhetorically, lifting up as mooth stone from a small nearby temple fountain, trickling water. It lies in water many years, yet–“ The priest then smashed the pebble with his palm against the marble floor, and picked up several shards. “You see, inside still dry. Many hear the words of Trigu, immersed always in his love, yet many do not listen. Do not let his words penetrate. You came here, brother. That is something. You core is not yet dry. You will begin here. And now. And you have begun."

"In Him, there is always hope. Yes. I must remember that." Despite the sorrow still etched on his face, despite the tears at the edges of his eyes, the smallest of releases could be seen there, for one to look deep within Adan. Some things would be slow. "Brother..."

"Return to your place of birth. Seek out those who would forgive you, brother." The bishop thought a moment then quietly added, "Thine Ska is coming for you now. Face it bravely brother. Trigu be with ye...always." The bishop reached toward Adan and touched his forehead with his open palm, and with his eyes closed, gave unto Adan the simplest of blessings and gently smiled. And then, he opened his eyes once more, and the cerulean motes, bore deeply into Adan's soul... And there, they found the tiniest of sparks of hope.

"Stay in Trigu, Brother. May he keep you and bless you." Knowing himself dismissed, Adan let himself out through the thronging crowds, feeling strangely at peace with them, despite the doubts that plagued his mind from their dark corners, pushed back only slightly by that single spark, and the tiny light it cast of yet. A brief moment, to stand aside and pay the tithe, this time, out of piety and hope that it would help them help another, rather than from simple duty of law.

He would need to begin by finding his traveling companions. Even if he would face it alone, he would need help hunting it. And he would have to gain permission to return to the Citadel. And as he emerged into the sunlight outside, his mind began to compose those letters. Meine geliebten Schwester, ich werde Heim zum dich kommen geben!

(OOC: Built in chat w/ Muro~!)
« Last Edit: December 29, 2007, 09:16:01 PM by Siren no Orakio »

Offline Dozus

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Re: Convergence (Chap IV)
« Reply #174 on: December 29, 2007, 11:08:29 PM »
Aerex stretched as he stepped out of the inn room.  He had slept poorly; there were far too many thoughts in his head to sleep properly.  Judging by the sun, it was already late in the morning.  As he closed the room's door, he noticed a slip of parchment pinned to it.  Matare raised an eyebrow and read it:

Aerex,
I seem to be in need of assistance of the sort I am sure you are capable.
Meet me at Zjerzhon's Emporium in Dockside.
Be sure to bring your pack…
K.M.


"Kay Em?" he wondered aloud.  Oh, of course.  "Kyrian..."  He sighed.  This did not bode well.  He had had plans to take Talia and Vorodon to the smithy shops and get their gear repaired, perhaps look for old friends - or enemies.  Whatever issues the needy elf had would probably need to take precedence, though he half considered ignoring the note and leaving Kyrian to fend for himself.  But no, he would probably somehow bring the trouble back to them and triple whatever damage would be caused.  They'd have to deal with the knight's problem.  At least Dockside isn't far from the Trade District, he thought.

Aerex knocked thrice on Vorodon's door.  "Hey Voro," he called out, "looks like we got a busy day."
Dozus the Windward
Swashbuckler
LEVEL 2
Cartography Guild Minor Minion
Acolyte of the Divine Synod, Merchant of Divine Wealth
STR: 4 | END: 2 | CON: 4 | DEX: 3 | CHA: 3 | INT: 4