After the war

[Lukmar]

Merely rising an eyebrow as Esteban makes his tardy appearance, Jacopo is content to allow the others to handle Olben. However, both eyebrows arch upwards when Rolec steps in with his explosion of gesticulation. Ooookay. Keep Rolec away from the negotiating table… unless of course the purpose of the negotiations is to make the other party doubt our sanity…

Glad that Adelard is able to wrap matters up, he nods to the merchant and simply states. We’ll be there.

With that he motions the group towards the exit of The Pickled Hog with his eyes, and makes his way back to the street. Outside, he waits for the rest of the group to emerge.

That went rather well... He says with a wry smile. Shall we find the Song and Bucket and have some dinner?

[MeklorIlavator]

Adelard follows Jacopo out, and replies to his question.
Sounds good, but I should probably get my equipment first, so I'll meet you there.
Having done so, he heads off.

Spoiler

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Decided that wearing Full Plate and a huge polearm would be somewhat awkward due to being just a citizen. Plus, he lives in the city, so at the very least he needs to get all of his equipment. Still, shouldn't take long.

[PrivatePlatypus]

Esteban nods at the mention of food. "That sounds divine. As luck would have it, I have all of my belongings present, so if you're ready Jacopo I would gladly walk with you." He pulls slightly on the bag at his side. "Maybe you could point out some of the lesser known jewels of Venice as we make our way."

Spoiler

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Esteban is already wearing his Chainshirt under his clothing and his sword is hanging on his belt. His other weapons and armor are in the bag of holding, or his belt pouch (for wands and potions)

[Ahus]

Rolec notices the expression cross Jacopo's face and he shrugs his shoulders and turns up his palms in response.

[ooc] thorgrim, now would be an apropos time for Rolec to do that thing that I PM'd you about... [/ooc]

Rolec is one of the last to emerge from the Pickled Hog and takes up stride near the rear of the group.

[Ethrael]

Kyrië watches as Adelard leaves to retrieve his belongings, waving as he leaves. He mentions to the group that he has his items with him, and will accompany them to the inn. Deciding to not try and interrupt his companions' chinwag, he turns to Rolec and tries to start up a conversation with him. In the inn, before, you began to say something, so you can't be mute. Why is it that you don't talk?

[Ahus]

[ooc] Thorgrim, I'll pass this time, but please do keep it in mind in you descriptions of places.[ooc]

Rolec turns to Kyrië and speaks in a relatively loud and confident voice with a tone such that everyone listening is distinctly aware that he is insulted for having to explain himself.

The true power of words can not be comprehended by someone such as yourself. Once you experience the awesome power of arcane magic you realize that you would do well to remain silent.
Speech is a means of communicating you will to the world around you, not just the individuals, but the very fabric of the multiverse. Casters of divine magics realize that their will is communicated thought speech but they can afford to be sloppy as their will cannot directly affect their surroundings. Their Gods interpret the will of the caster and the will of the deity is then done to the environment. Arcane casters are more like unto the gods, as their will powers the changes to the world directly. Through rigorous training I have awakened myself to the power of the arcane and learned how to speak and move and think in such a way that I may command the very fabric of the multiverse to conform to my will to some extent. I am not however so arrogant to believe that I have mastered this ability. I know for a fact that there are those who can affect a far greater change to their surroundings than I. I also know that these individuals utilize the same techniques as I to do so. I know that by speaking a particular phrase I could decimate an entire village, or call fourth all of the demons of the underworld and force them to do my bidding, or transport myself and my companions to any number of other planes of existence. I also know that I do not know what those phrases are, so I am very careful whenst I speak.
As he finishes he mutters under his breath
Also, most of the time I don't have that much to say...

[Ethrael]

Perhaps surprisingly, Kyrië and Aetos seemingly jump to the offensive rather than being intimidated. Aetos unfolds his wings and screeches loudly, and Kyrië's eyes darken, his face suddenly become frighteningly controlled, not ragingly violent, but definitely angered.

Do not dare compare yourself to the gods, mortal. He says, his voice containing an edge so sharp he almost sounds metallic. His wings begin to beat slowly, and a wind picks up sinisterly around the pair. Kyrië rises, incredibly slowly, whilst continuing to Rolec, Do not flatter yourself in believing you anywhere near the potency of their power. You are still weak, little one, and no amounts of silence or bravado will make you more powerful. I've seen you before, with your books and scripts, you are even weaker without them than I am without my god. Do you not understand? Do you not even know the most basic concepts of magic? Any form of its use takes up energy: you can't "accidentally" speak the words and destroy a universe. Even I, an arrogant divine magic user, knows that. By now, Kyrië is almost 20 feet in the air, causing any onlookers to have to strain their necks to look up into the sun-lined figured. He turns and motions to Aetos who has perched on the roof of the inn, now hopping along towards his master.

Turning back one last time to look down at Rolec, I don't care if you have your own little reasons for keeping quiet, even if it is for something as simple as your not having anything to say. I don't care even if you fly into a rage because no-one can understand your surreal... "movements." But once you even try and belittle my whole sect of magic-users, then, sir, now he smiles, baring his fang-like teeth and a slightly sinister smile, you have gone a tad too far. I shall meet you two in the inn, he adds nodding towards Esteban and Jacopo, then turning back to Rolec, and you may choose any time to apologise, otherwise you'll find that our stay together may end up rather too unpleasant for anyone's liking.

Flashing one last smile, Kyrië, closely followed by Aetos, zooms off through the street, dipping and swerving constantly, sometimes rising above the roofs and continues until he reaches the Song and Bucket.

[thorgrim29]

Be it by air, by foot, or whatever, you all arrive at the song and bucket eventually. The atmosphere is much more lively then at the more upscale inn you just left. Various musicians play on the stage by turns, collecting either admiration and free drinks, or insults and rotten fruit, depending on their skill. Most play more traditional songs, but others are more experimental, using whatever skill they may have at illusions to modify the sound of their instruments slightly, and their is much more rumble and base sounds then is usual.

The common room is fairly large, fitting at first glance between 50 and 100 people, and a dozen waitresses that obviously know that in their line of work the difference between "tits" and "tips" is very slight are relentlessly serving glasses of wine, ale, beer, mead, and other drink of varying potency to the crowd. From the glimpses you get of the kitchen, a few whole beefs and mutton cook slowly, along with a few score poultry and mountains of potatoes, greens, rice, etc....

In one corner, there is gambling, much like at the Pickled Hog, though there is much more copper and very little gold being wagered.

The crowd seems a rough but mostly good natured sort, and despite the quantity of alcohol and weapons present, fights seem to be absent, or at least are for later in the night. 3 tall, rotund and jovial men in their thirties who seem like brothers serve at the bar, along with a luxuriously bearded dwarf of middle age, and 5 tall, hulking and considerably less jovial men with clubs and blackjacks in evidence take turns watching the door and patrolling the room, occasionally reminding too forward patrons that this is not a brothel and that the friendly waitress is not interested.

[Ahus]

Rolec looks at Esteban and Jacopo and shakes his head briefly...

Then in as calm and logical a tone as has ever been spoken
And this is why I don't talk... Did he even listen to a single word I said? No, he heard what he thought I said.
I said that I had not mastered this ability. The Gods themselves were once as we are today, through a mastery of their abilities did they become gods. Well mastery of their abilities and the ability to mold the collective will of all of their worshipers. I'll not be apologizing for stating this fact. This is indeed why I so disapproved of the hero worship of Mr. Kage. I am no deity, I've no worshipers, the power of the collective will of millions will never be mine to command, although my will does affect my surroundings as that of the Gods.

The energy that he speaks of is cycling around ad infinitum however an individuals acuity to harness it and use that energy to make the multiverse conform to their will is limited by their experience in dealing with that energy. These cycling energies are controlled by our wills and actions, I was stating that one should not meddle with that which they did not understand. So clearly it is best that Kyrië's god do all the heavy lifting as far a his spellcasting goes.

I shall however endeavor not to antagonize him further 'cause that last bit was pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

[Ethrael]

Kyrië lands soundlessly on the ground and waves goodbye to Aetos who goes off on his hunt, flying off in the direction of the nearest forest or plain. Kyrië enters, smiling to the doormen who most probably will be eying him up and down weirdly. He moves off towards the bar, glancing at the various musicians with a constant smile on his face, any emotions which might have appeared on it not having left a even a single trace upon that pale complexion. As he approaches the bar, he continues to look around and half-dance to the good music until the barman comes, when he turns his full attention to one of the brothers.

Good day, sir. How do you do? Kyrië Lymnon, He smiles, yet again, almost infectuously, and puts out his hand to shake his. I, three friends and an elf have recently come under the employment of Olben the Caravan Master. Would you happen to know where the rest of his crew is, that is, if they're here? Otherwise would it be possible to grab a little dinner for the five of us?

[PrivatePlatypus]

Esteban looks at Rolec with a look of pity. "There are a great many people that speak much but say very little, it would seem you may be the opposite. Your beliefs and mannerisms are your own, and I will not judge them, but it is often best not to antagonize those you'll be working with." Reaching into his bag, Esteban produces a fine guitar, silver inlaid along the neck shining out against a background of darkwood.

He looks towards the stage, a look of nervous longing on his face. "If you'll excuse me, I believe God has led me here for a reason." He begins walking off towards the stage, trying to find a line or stagemaster. After taking a few steps, he turns back. "Everybody has stories. Some are even worth being told. Call it hero worship if you must, but I will have interest, if not respect, for anyone who can command the admiration of strangers." Without waiting for a reply, Esteban turns again, heading for the stage.

Spoiler

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Performance check in the event Esteban makes it up on stage. Perform - (1d20+14)[21]

[Lukmar]

Nodding to Adelard as the dwarf sets off; Jacopo then turns back at the rest of the group before they head out to the Song and Bucket. Walking alongside Esteban, the young man is glad to oblige the bard and points out the less renowned landmarks, giving a brief commentary of each as the group make their way across the maze of canals that is Venice.

As they are about to reach the inn, he pauses as the discussion between Rolec and Kyrië takes a more heated turn. Silent since the talk of divine versus arcane magic, planar travel and the like simply goes over his head, Jacopo watches as Kyrië flies off. Giving a non-committal shrug as Rolec concludes the discussion, he nods his agreement at the Elf’s final comment about not antagonizing the druid any further.

That would be wise. He says as the trio takes a final turn and enters the Song and Bucket. Studying the common room with a casual glance, he takes note of the clientele and tries to spot Kyrië. As Esteban pulls out a guitar from his bag, Jacopo indicates the common room. We’ll try to grab a table and some food while you are on stage. Join us when you are done. Making his way towards the bar, Jacopo cannot help but wonder at how much he is learning about his companions. And we have yet to leave Venice… by the end of the mission we’ll either be able to work together flawlessly or we may be a few heads short… either way it should be interesting.

Spoiler

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If Kyrië is not present in the common room, I’ll amend my post

[MeklorIlavator]

Adelard walks into the tavern and sees both Jacopo at the bar and Kyrië talking to the innkeeper.
Tough decision, bargaining with an innkeeper, or having a drink with Jacopo.
He immediately heads over to Jacopo, setting his pack down next to a stool and signals a bartender.
"Hey! Barkeep! A pint of ale please, and a meat stew, if you got one." In return, he throws several silver peices on the counter top, more than enough to pay for the meal, and then turns to Jacopo."Did I miss anything? And do you know if we have rooms yet? That pack's heavy."

[Lukmar]

Taking a long sip from his own cup of mead, Jacopo mulls over how to best answer Adelard’s question. Finally lowering the drink, he turns to look at the dwarf.

Nothing much: Kyrië and Rolec... got to know each other a bit better, and we have proof that Esteban is not half bad as a musician. His tone is light and casual as he indicates the bard on the far stage before continuing. As for our lodgings… Kyrië is doing the bargaining, so we’ll wait to see what deal he can land us with. Hopefully he’s enquiring about the rest of Olben’s crew as well.

Picking up the cup and swirling its contents, he takes another sip of mead while waiting for the food to arrive.

[thorgrim29]

Good day, sir. How do you do? Kyrië Lymnon, He smiles, yet again, almost infectuously, and puts out his hand to shake his. I, three friends and an elf have recently come under the employment of Olben the Caravan Master. Would you happen to know where the rest of his crew is, that is, if they're here? Otherwise would it be possible to grab a little dinner for the five of us?

As Esteban takes the stage, the innkeep grins and points at a table of scarred men

There are Olben's lads, they're staying here for the night, And you're in luck, We have 3 rooms left, 1 gold apiece, includes two meals, and 3 drinks.

[Ethrael]

Turning round to study the battle-worn men, Kyrië turns back and smiles at the bartender. That's sounds great, thank you very much. Here's four, he says, handing over four small, heavy gold coins, and I'll get the elf to pay you later. How does that sound? He's that one over there, Kyrië says pointing towards Rolec just outside the inn, just in case you need to find him later.

Flashing a leaving, cunning grin, Kyrië turns and walks back to the table to Jacopo and Adelard. Good to see you again, Adelard. I paid for us, one gold apiece for three rooms, collectively, and two meals and three drinks each. And those are Olben's men over there. He points to the group of men, and follows his outstretched arm to notice Esteban on the stage, he turning to look at him, partly surprised. Well Esteban can play well, can't he?

[Lukmar]

Jacopo looks up as Kyrië joins them at the table, obviously pleased with his results. After hearing out the bargain that the druid was able to obtain, he smiles at half-fey. Thanks for picking up the tab Kyrië. As for Esteban, I was making that same observation to Adelard: he certainly knows how to use that guitar. He replies, taking a moment to study the men sitting at the far table.

Turning back to his companions, he takes another sip of mead before adding. Three rooms for the five of us, eh? Hmmm, I don’t mind sharing. Does one of you want to be on his own?

[Ahus]

Rolec approaches Jacopo and motions to him that he feals that Rolec and Kyrië should probably not share a room as Rolec is fairly confident that Kyrië would slit his throat in the night. Rolec also indicates that he is willing to share with any of the others and that they would likely sleep quite well as he is not one to make much noise.

[Lukmar]

Jacopo watches with interest and slight bemusement as Rolec proceeds to illustrate, quite graphically, why it would be a bad idea for the Elf and Kyrië to share a room. At the end of it, Jacopo gestures for the wizard to take a seat at the table and orders a drink for him

We’ll wait for Esteban to finish before sorting out sleeping arrangements, but your point is duly noted. He says with an amused smile, before picking up his drink again and turning his attention back to Estaban’s performance.

[Ethrael]

Upon hearing mention of their sleeping arrangements, Kyrië squees ((yes squees)) like a little child. Ooh! I get the one with the window, and whoever shares with me will have to put up with Aetos in the middle of the night. He has very bad eating habits, he adds, almost whispering towards Jacopo. As Rolec approaches, all expression of joy is wiped off his face. He sits down silently, and catches sight of Rolec's hand's movement across his throat. Oh please, I wouldn't be so crude. I have far better ways... he adds and turns to continue watching Esteban in silence, his arms crossed.

[MeklorIlavator]

Adelard takes a sip of his drink as the rest of the party gathers, and narrows his eyes at the result. hmm...I guess what those two found out about each other wasn't to their liking. This will surely make things interesting.
Hearing Kyrië...excitement, Adelard lightly knocks him on the shoulder, and says "Eh, I doubt he's worse than some of the people I've known. I'll take that room if no one objects.'

[PrivatePlatypus]

Standing on the stage, Esteban plucks gingerly on the strings of the guitar, twisting small knobs at the top of its neck, first one way, then the other, moving to the next string only after he is satisfied with the noise from the previous. With a final adjustment, he brings his hand up, strumming across all six strings. Satisfied with the result, he picks a few exploratory notes, his fingers moving with practiced movements. "I once swore I would never sing this song again." The notes he picks begin to take on a noticable pattern, as the speed quickens slightly. "Although quite a few things have happened over the last few days that I would never have thought possible and sometimes... sometimes it is good to remember. This song is for anyone who has loved before and wonders if they ever will again."

In the beginning, there was the word...

The world was much simpler then
With one God making woman and man
Who loved and who lived safe yet free
And thought nothing of forbidden trees.
The word was much simpler then
Free from sin and the burden therein
Unencumbered by shame and regret
And untainted by the foul serpent.

The world was much simpler then
When the low hanging fruit first beckoned
And a hand shot up to the tree
The two breaking their promise with glee.
The world was much simpler then
Even after mandate from Heaven
Which banished the pair to the east,
Paradise lost because of the beast.

The world was still simpler then
All of mankind embracing as friends
Outcasts set adrift on the sea
Treacherous but that brought you to me.
The world was much simpler then
Our love strong and as pure as has been
Since Adam and Eve walked at ease
Under shade and on blankets of leaves.

The world is more tangled today
I find often I can't find my way
Wishing you were still here with me
Though I know that it simply can't be.
The world is more tangled today
In his wisdom God took you away
Alone, I go on through my tears
Holding hope he will answer my prayers.

The world is more tangled today
I curse it, though I know you would say
"Look closer, you'll see after pause
The world's beauty is found in its flaws."
The world is more tangled today
But my love, unerring, will not sway
Growing strong, each day that I roam
Until... at long last... I return home...

In the end, there is only you...

As the final notes fade away, Esteban grabs the guitar by the neck with is right hand, lowering it slowly until the base makes contact with the stage. Taking a single bow, he makes his way off the stage, rejoining his companions around their table.

[Ethrael]

Clapping politely and with a moderate helping of enjoyment, Kyrië smiles at Esteban as he comes to rejoin them. Very nice, Esteban. It was certainly... interesting, to say the least. You definitely have a talent. Although you might want to be a bit careful with your certainty in the subject of monotheism, there are violent people out there, quite a lot of them not sharing your beliefs. Clearing his throat and turning to the rest of the group, he continues, We were just deciding our rooms. I've payed for three, and four of us will have to share. Adelard and I have decided to do so, do you have any preferences.

[Lukmar]

Jacopo welcomes Esteban to the table with a somber face and a genuine applause.

Bravo Esteban. That was… poignant. You were not playing to entertain the crowd, you went beyond that. Truly, you can call forth and convey much passion through your music and song. With that, he leans back on his seat, and swirls his mead, though he does not take another sip.

Going back to the rooms; you can share one with either Rolec or myself, or take the second room by yourself. Rolec and I are happy either way, so it is your choice.

[PrivatePlatypus]

Esteban nods at Kyrië's comment. "Thank you. I would doubt your words if not for... past experience; I will try to keep a level head with regards to my beliefs in the future..." He shifts his gaze to Jacopo, raising his voice to an inquisitive tone. "to avoid... tipping my hand? I believe is the phrase?"

"It is very kind of you all to let me choose my sleeping arrangements. If it is all the same, I believe I will room with Rolec, though I'm afraid he may keep me up all night with his constant banter."

[Lukmar]

Jacopo keeps his gaze on Esteban, while his face breaks into an amused grin. Touché.

Could not have hoped for better. Passepartout has one more trip to do before we leave Venice.

[Ahus]

Rolec tosses a gold piece to Kyrië presuming that he had been the neglected party not covered in the negotiation with the tavern keeper.

As Esteban begins to play Rolec stands as perfectly still as a statue, staring off into the distance past Esteban. After the third verse Rolec's head begins to sway with the music. When Esteban finally finished the song Rolec was dancing what appeared to be a waltz by himself through the tavern. The last chord taking him quite off guard, and almost causing him to stumble. A distasteful look crosses his face as he straitens his robe. He is obviously disappointed in himself for such appallingly poor behavior.

When Esteban says that he would room with Rolec, he nods in Esteban's direction in as dignified a manner as he is capable of considering the rather poofy state of his hair following his dance.

[Lukmar]

Tymora bless us. A singer, a dancer, a cook… all we need is to discover that the other two are an actor and a puppeteer and then we can get this mummers’ show on the road.

Draining the last of his mead, Jacopo watches as a ruffled Rolec makes his way back to the table.

Very well gentlemen. What shall we do next?

[thorgrim29]

(in the interest of moving things ahead, you meet up with the other caravan guards, get introduced, start your meal, all pretty uneventful. Then this happens)

After Esteban's fine performance, you all start your meal, whatever it may be, and start talking to your colleagues for the trip. As expected, they are a bunch of professional fighters, mostly honest, uncomfortable with military discipline and lacking the skill and drive to be adventurers. A French singer finishes up on the stage.

Near the stage, a table is occupied by five very large men, with the fair skin and hair of the Norse, and a reedy looking one of the same stock. They seem to be arguing while imbibing copious quantities of mead. As the Frenchmen, to general indifference, walks off the stage, they enter climb in, curiously without instruments. One of them, who seems the leader, starts talking, and commands the attention of the crowd through his bearing, his deep booming voice and what seems to Esteban as a hint of bardic magic.

Friends, brothers, we are the heralds of a new age. In your lives, you have heard ballads, epics, performances both musical only and a capella. You may even have heard the new genres called jazz and rock by some. But I promise this to you, you have never heard what you are about to hear. Our Gods, one eyed Odin, whom we call All Father, Thor, the god of thunder, Tyr, Freya, Baldr, their brethren, have come to us in our dreams, united us for one purpose. We are Drakkar, and we bring you the music of the Gods, we bring you HEAVY METAL

As he finishes, the smallest one, who had been casting for a while, finishes with a flourish, and the stage fills with smoke, when it dissipates, some of the men are holding strange instruments of music, seemingly without resonance boxes, one is sitting behind a very elaborate drum set. Then, they start playing, eerily familiar yet disturbingly different sounds fill the tavern, as everyone stares at the first performance of Metal music on the continent. Whether they like it or not, it has come to Venice. Then, the singer kicks in:

In The Beginning There Was Silence And Darkness
All Across The Earth
Then Came The Wind And A Hole In The Sky
Thunder And Lightning Came Crashing Down
Hit The Earth And Split The Ground
Fire Burned High In The Sky

>From Down Below Fire Melted The Stone
The Ground Shook And Started To Pound

The Gods Made Heavy Metal And They Saw That It Was Good
They Said To Play It Louder Than Hell
We Promised That We Would
When Losers Say It's Over With You Know That It's A Lie
The Gods Made Heavy Metal And It's Never Gonna Die

We Are The True Believers
It's Our Turn To Show The World
In The Fire Of Heavy Metal We Were Burned
It's More Than Our Religion It's The Only Way To Live
But The Enemies Of Metal We Can't Forgive

Cause We Believe In The Power And The Might
And The Gods Who Made Metal Are With Us Tonight

The Gods Made Heavy Metal And They Saw That It Was Good
They Said To Play It Louder Than Hell
We Promised That We Would
When Losers Say It's Over With You Know That It's A Lie
The Gods Made Heavy Metal And It's Never Gonna Die

We Believe In The Power And The Might
And The Gods Who Made Metal Are With Us Tonight

We're Here Tonight For Heavy Metal Are You Ready In The Hall
They Have Chosen Us And We Have Heard The Call
Gonna Tear The Roof Off With Out Sound

Crack The Walls And Shake The Ground
Fight Tonight For Metal One And All
Cause We Believe In The Power And The Might
And The Gods Who Made Metal Are With Us Tonight

The Gods Made Heavy Metal And They Saw That It Was Good
They Said To Play It Louder Than Hell
We Promised That We Would
When Losers Say It's Over With You Know That It's A Lie
The Gods Made Heavy Metal And It's Never Gonna Die

[MeklorIlavator]

The flashy display quickly catches Adelard's attention, and the performance keeps it ensnared. By the end his head is nodding to the rhythm, and he claps appreciatively when they finished. Turning to Esteban, he takes a small drink from his mug.
Now that was somethign you don't see everyday. Still, quite enjoyable, do you think.