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    Chapter 1: Fortune Favors the Bold

    Redwater Isle, The Jetsam Gallery, Library
    20th day of Amber's Fall, Just before Midnight


    Arabella lifted her lantern a bit higher to look at the bookshelf she was examining, squinting to read the faded gold lettering in the wobbling light. On the other side of the room, her companion sat on the windowsill, one leg propped up and the other hanging into the room, reading the book on her knee in the silvery moonlight. They could have lit more candles, but added illumination increased the chances that they'd be discovered - you see, the pair weren't supposed to be in this Library, in this manor, or even on this island.

    This was a fairly unique robbery, but a robbery nonetheless.

    She paused as her gaze fell upon a very dusty and abused book. "The Dying of the Light?" She asked, softly. "That sounds like it could be related to what you're looking for."

    Rayle "The Charmed" Bancross snorted derisively. "You're in the fiction section. And that story is terrible."

    "You've read it?"

    "Only the first five pages." Rayle shut the book she had purloined, replacing it on the desk that now bore her boot-print. "Let's try the stacks..." The treasure hunter began working her way through the books piled on the table, only to find these organized as well. "Alphabetized? The stacks? Who cares for this place and how boring are they?"

    "Some people like being organized, Rayle." Arabella said, brightly.

    A soft but intense hiss came from the pile. Only the adventurer's legs were visible now. "Lies! Damn lies! Only pursers and hermit crabs have this kind of time."

    "And actual hermits," the musician added. "Didn't you say the manor was abandoned?"

    "Yep." Rayle finally emerged, dusty but triumphant. "Got it. Beset by Legends - a book so old other books only mention it in passing." She opened it, and then slapped a hand to her face. "Of course. Three weeks of planning, and I never once remembered..."

    "...that you can't read Old Sylish?"

    "I can't read Old Sylish." Rayle agreed. "Well, time for the backup plan." She found the symbol for Amatu and tore out each page in the chapter, carefully. Then she replaced the book where she'd found it. "Now, find something amusing to steal."

    "Why?" Arabella picked up a golden chalice from where it served as a centerpiece, and followed Rayle out into the hall and down the stairs.

    As they walked, Rayle continued to explain. "Two reasons. The first is that if we do get caught, they'll take that back and not bother looking for the pages. The second..." At this point they opened the doors into the grand ballroom, and both would later remember it as the exact moment that their evening went to hell.

    ***

    "...and authentic, naturally. It's quite rare to see elven crafts like these so far from their homeland." Amon Din said with a wink, treasures piled around him in the ballroom. A middle-aged elf slowly going to fat, Amon knew his business and knew it well - so well, in fact, that he had caught the eye of none other than the infamous Ramsey Blake some years ago, and had been taking good care of the Wraith's crew - and himself, of course - ever since.

    "That's fantastic. However did Blake come by these?" The nobleman leaned forward to examine it. He and a number of others - all of them named "Baron This" or "Lady That" and most likely not actual old world nobility - had been informed that they'd been carefully selected for a private auction of part of the notorious Captain Blake's seemly inexhaustible supply of rare goods. They had not been informed that the reason they'd been selected was because they matched the most important criteria for finding buyers - rich, greedy, unscrupulous, and not nearly as clever as they believed themselves to be.

    "All of it was found, of course, tragically cast away - hence the name 'The Jetsam Gallery,'" Amon supplied with a wink. The smarter members of the group - a dismally small number, by his reckoning - winked back. Well, that was part of the Business too.

    And that was when the doors opened, admitting two women. A quick look revealed that they were not only not on the guest list, but also far too shabbily dressed to have even been considered for it. A second look revealed that they were carrying a large golden chalice that clearly hadn't entered the manor with them. "Do I even need to ask what you're doing here?"

    Rayle and Arabella looked at each other, then back at the elf. "We're your scheduled entertainment, of course." Rayle pulled a pair of daggers from her belt and started juggling them, along with the chalice. Arabella took a deep breath and began to sing a fast-paced ditty.

    "There once was a lass, as pretty as can be,
    the boys all loved her to bits.
    She grew up well, and to no one's surprise,
    started showing off her-"
    *

    "Enough." Amon rolled his eyes. "Guards!"

    "Whoop, time to go." The pair dashed back out and up the stairs, their shouts echoing back down.

    "Why did you tell him that? That never works!" Arabella huffed.

    Rayle gestured non-specifically. "I don't know, I panicked! Are you up for a trip?"

    "I-" They were interrupted by the door in front of the next set of stairs opening. Out stepped four men and two women, all of them looking the part of shorebound pirates - bored and looking for trouble. However, it was their leader that made the biggest impression. Eight feet tall, hairy, and horned, the massive minotaur stood in their way like a wall of muscle. With neither threat nor comment, he charged and all hell broke loose.

    It would have been over as soon as the minotaur reached them, but everyone was hiding a few surprises that night. Upon reaching the women, Rayle faded back, and Arabella grabbed the hefty leg as the creature shot by, yanking him off his feet with a strength that her frame should never have granted her. She swung quickly, planting the creature's horns in the wall.

    For her part, Rayle flicked her left wrist, and a thin silver strand shot out, which whipped by one of the pirates and left him on the floor, sparking and twitching. She had just enough time to draw her own sword before everyone collided.

    As they fought, she could see in flashes and starts what their next moves would be. How to dodge, how to act... but with five standing opponents, and with Arabella struggling to keep the minotaur pinned, it was only a matter of time.

    Arabella's advice didn't help, either. "Rayle! Your left!"

    The treasure hunter whipped around, getting punched in the back of the head for her trouble.

    "Sorry, my left!"

    "Stop helping me!" Rayle managed to down another one with the cord. She'd paid for Aethersprite in blood, but at times like these it was all worth it. Another pirate was disarmed after that, a second one knocked out, and Arabella abandoned the minotaur to clock the last pirate over the head with the now-forgotten gold chalice.

    The minotaur took the sudden loss of leverage as an opportunity, pulling free and pursuing the women up the final flight of stairs, out to the grand balcony on the third floor.

    What he said, however, surprised them. "Please hold a moment, ladies. I'll ask you to surrender, and keep this evening pleasant."

    "Who the hell are you?" Rayle didn't mean to say it - it just slipped out.

    The minotaur, however, grinned. "I am Khallra, the Wraith's bosun. Your surrender...?"

    "A bison bosun? Catchy."

    "A bovine bison bosun boatsman!" Arabella added, cheerfully.

    "That's quite enough." Amon had arrived, with reinforcements - rather a lot of them. "You've given us a good run, but you're cornered - and you're in deep, deep trouble. Do you know who you're stealing from?"

    Rayle let out a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Unfortunately, yes."

    "Then you know how suicidal this is. Captain Blake isn't someone you want as an enemy." The elf said, still huffing. "Wait a moment... I recognize you now! You're Rayle Bancross!" He snickered. "Well, I must say, this is a surprise. I thought you only stole from dead people."

    "Don't tempt me." The explorer muttered.

    "Funny. So, you showed up, you stole and juggled... what is that, a cup? And now you're up here on the roof with your singing companion, telling jokes." The elf's grin grew wider. "Is this some kind of circus tryout?"

    "Sure, why not?" Rayle knew better than to try to tell him why she was really here. "And you're going to love the animal act."

    With that, Arabella toppled over the railing, and Rayle jumped after her as the pirates rushed in. A moment later, they reversed direction and rushed back as an incredible creature rose into view. At nearly thirty feet long, nose to tail, and just as far across in wingspan, the blood-red, scaly, hovering creature was clearly a dragon. And balanced on its back...

    "I'm afraid the circus is only in town for one night. But have fun explaining this to Captain Blake!" Rayle shouted, as the pair ascended.

    Irritated, the elf pulled out his flintlock and fired, but as with everything else tonight, the shot went awry.

    ***

    Hours later, Rayle had taken a less precarious position, straddling Arabella's back in order to maintain balance while acting as a spotter.

    And of course, their argument continued.

    "It was an empty manor, you said!"

    "I said I thought it would be empty! My information was out of date!"

    "Out of date? How could your vision of the future be out of date?"

    "It wasn't a vision! I looked it up." Rayle dug out a much-abused copy of Majiran's Guide, dated to some time twelve years ago. "It's probably time I got an updated edition..."

    "Where are we going, anyway?"

    The treasure hunter peered out over the Crossroad Isles, looking for the trademark X that marked the spot she was looking for - it was useful that the four lagoons of Wayfarer's Point made it easy to see from the air. On a clear night with a full moon like this one, it was no trouble at all. "There." She pointed. "Actually, take us northwest. We're going to need Lucien's library to decipher that old Sylish."

    "I figured you'd want to see Jonathan or Non first. What are you going to pay him with? A favor? You know he'd let you."

    The adventurer crossed her arms. "Ha! No. You can either pay in money and get gouged, or you can pay with a favor and get screwed. I'd prefer not to match wits with him with a fancy custom bargain, thank you very much. We can see Jon and Non tomorrow."

    "So what are you going to pay him with?"

    "This!" Rayle pulled the purloined cup out of the bag. "Reason number two to steal something valuable - because hell if I'm going to pay his ridiculous fee with my own money."

    "You really did think this through." Arabella tried hard not to physically emote while Rayle was riding her, but she did manage a scaly smile. "Not bad for a crazy woman."

    "I'm not crazy!"

    "That's what I'd expect a crazy woman to say!"

    Rayle's response caught in her throat as she saw the number of ships in the harbor. "Good grief, there's a lot of traffic this time of year. I see the Firebrand, the Pluderer's Folly, and a bunch of other nice hulls. Seems everyone's in town."

    "So we're in for an interesting time, then."

    Rayle closed her eyes. "Mmm. But not nearly as interesting as what happens if we screw this up. These stakes are a lot higher than I'm used to."

    "Well, no pain, no gain. Let the games begin!" The dragon folded her wings and dove at the castle...

    *
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    Last edited by Jade_Tarem; 2012-06-14 at 01:56 AM.
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  2. - Top - End - #2
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    5 Years and 3 Months Before
    The City of Tir


    It had been a quiet day. Jonathan had spent most of it in the study. A book entitled The Mysteries of the Ancients Volume 2 lay open on top of a stack of books with equally drab and boring titles on topics quite the opposite. Or at the very least of interest to the young man pouring over them.

    So it was that Jonathan Hearth knew nothing of the regiment of Tirac soldiers standing outside, or their purpose in arriving here until he heard the yells from below echoing up through the halls.

    "What is the meaning of this?"

    "Norman Vaox you are wanted for questioning by orders of the council, for the crimes of sorcery and murder. You and your household are to be accompanied to the confines of the tower until such time as a judge sees fit to evaluate your case."

    "I am a member of the council, and I have committed no such acts. Now get out of my house."

    "That was not a request councilor. If you do not comply my men are under orders to take you by force."

    "I demand to know what proof you have of these accusations!"

    "We have an eye witness linking you to the murder of lady Carting."

    Vaox's eyes widened in shock.

    "The lady Carting is dead?"

    "Such charades will do you no good here. You've been sloppy councilor. We know you were the last person to leave her estate, and the lady Carting was found dead her hands wrapped around her neck. Tell me councilor; have you ever seen a woman strangle herself to death?"

    At this the captain signaled to the men on his right who quickly forced the councilor to his knees and proceeded to bind his arms and legs together with chains. Pulling out a rag they stuffed it into the sorcerer's mouth full of rags just to be sure no spell could be cast.

    "No? Neither have I. Take him away. Find anyone else present here and detain them. No one escapes contamination in the presence of a sorcerer."

    Jonathan had little time to react. Closing the door as quickly and quietly as possible he took a high stand used for an oil lamp and jammed it against the entrance. He then scrambled for the window. After forcing it open he began to lower himself out slowly. Not relishing the drop down a story should he lose his grip. Fortunately the house was covered in thick ivy which he gathered in large fistfuls and began to make his way down as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the soldiers had begun a sweep of the grounds.

    He was perhaps halfway down when they spotted him. A crossbow bolt landed half an inch from his right hand and just like that he had lost his grip and his footing. Plummeting the rest of the way Jonathan met the ground with an unpleasant thump.

    Staggering to his feet, he turned to face the guard moving in his direction.

    "Oy! Stop right there."

    "Arm's pretty bad, but my legs are fine." He muttered under his breath. "Catch me if you can."

    And with that Jonathan ran; making straight for the southern wall as fast as the adrenaline could carry him. With as much strength as he could muster the young man leapt for a low hanging branch of an apple tree. Pulling himself up with a cry of pain he managed to push through the branches and over the wall to the other side before the guard could reach him. Tearing off into the streets of Tir; Jonathan disappeared into the crowd.

    Wayfarer's Point, Bukiya Inn
    17th day of Amber's Fall, 2 in the morning


    A stranger in a thick brown traveller's cloak stood at the back of the inn by the servants entrance. As he raised his left hand to knock upon the door a ring in the shaped of a dragon eating its own tail could be seen curled around his ring finger. The red stone inset upon it seemed to catch unseen light at stranger angles.

    As he waited Jonathan looked out at the surrounding sprawl. Wayfarer's Point; the largest hive of scum and villainy on the high seas. Home of murderers, rapists, pirates and thieves. And worse than those were the few honest men among them.

    I suppose you fit right in now Hearth.

    "Shut up."
    Last edited by Xondoure; 2012-06-14 at 02:27 AM.
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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    Light seeped from the open slit in the grand oaken doors, the brilliant chandelier in the foyer bright enough to illuminate the stone bridge to the foot of the castle. A monument to Old World glory, the thing blotted out the moon and the stars in the clear autumn sky and put in their place the braziers and passing torches of the guard. High above on the parapet, the torches had stopped pacing. If one listened closely, they would have heard the sound of a dozen musket hammers locking in unison.

    The master of the castle awaited below to greet the two women. As they drew close enough to see his silhouette against the light from the foyer, he lowered his pistol. His disposition changed instantly.

    "Rayle! Oh it's good to see you. I mean, well... I thought it would be you and this is better than the alternative. Not, eh... not that it's not good to see you too. There was some business with a Valander and... oh, never mind."

    "Lady Draig," he added curtly, remembering his manners.

    His midnight blue elven blade was still resting on his shoulder as he deposited his pistol into its holster and stooped to retrieve the half finished glass of sherry from the ground. Either he'd gotten dressed with impressive haste, or he was only just now contemplating bed -- one could tell by the untied cravat draped around his neck and the absent vest.

    "Either way, you're lucky I keep such queer hours," he began as keen green eyes darted up and down their forms. "Tell me, what is so urgent that you've just come from Redwater?"

    Without waiting for a response he yanked his head in the direction of the door and whisked himself inside.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2012-06-14 at 08:54 PM.

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    The Wraith, Sailing into Wayfarer's Harbor
    21st day of Amber's Fall
    Late Morning


    Wind whipped past the young captain's hair as the Wraith cut through the water and into Wayfarer Point's deep southern bay. The azure waves glinted in the light of a perfect day, competing for the eye with a riot of brilliant colors flying from the masts of a score of great ships already berthed, a welcoming fanfare that shamed the tumbledown city that lurked in the hills beyond. As the crimson-sailed ship passed beneath the harbor's eastern port, a trumpet blast rang out over the island, signaling the arrival of a pirate lord to any citizen or sailor awake and sober enough to realize. Children ran through the muddy streets, spreading word of the Wraith's arrival, and in every whorehouse and bar a great panic was awoken, a battening of the hatches against the debauched storm of that fell ship's crew.

    Back at the prow of the Wraith, the young captain let out a single sob before regaining control of himself, forcing the tears to pool in his brown eyes. Chuckling, Captain Ramsay Blake leaned in closer to the younger man, pulling taught the noose as he leaned on his shoulder.

    "Well, Captain Wilson, you swore you'd see me hang before I set foot on land again. I've been waiting for weeks for you to make up your mind to seize my ship and defeat me in single combat, and yet you've disappointed me."

    Scorn dripped from Blake's voice as he gestured out over the hive of scum and villainy that was his home, before bring his hand swinging down in a belly slap that drove the wind from Captain Wilson's lungs.

    "I had hoped that a Captain of the Tirian Navy would prove to be more of a challenge, but leave your crew to drown and you become less useful than a poxy whore. And I should know - I've tried to sell more than one poxy whore in my day. But come, I'll give you one more chance to make good."

    Sliding a steel dagger from the sash about his waist, Blake cut the ropes binding Captain Wilson's hands. Instantly, Wilson lashed out, only for Blake to swing from his perch upon the fore-mast and deftly evade the blow. Thrown off balance, Wilson began to teeter, only for Blake to kick the barrel he was standing on out from beneath his feet. He fell badly, his neck refusing to break, leaving him jerking in the sea air. Turning away, Blake sheathed his dagger and stalked towards the helm.

    "Mr. Sweeney, it would seem Captain Wilson is in a dancing mood. Play something for him."

    Blake was already past him by the time the weathered pirate had pulled his accordion from behind a nearby rum barrel, though the jaunty tune rang through the morning air. Soon, the entire deck crew had joined in the ditty as Wilson's face went from red to purple. Taking the steps past the second level of the aftcastle and continuing to the top, Blake found Uriah lounging atop the rail, her balance a thing any circus tumbler would sell their soul for. Waving aside the helmsman, Blake took the wheel himself.

    "Did you find that enjoyable, Captain?"

    "Oh aye, Uriah. 'Tis a fortuitous omen to sail into port as an enemy dies."

    Truth be told, Blake had intended to ransom the captain off to one of the Tirian representatives in port - after all, a living prisoner was far more valuable than a corpse. But the debacle at the Jetsam Gallery had sent Blake into a black mood, and hanging the captive captain had seemed the best thing to do to relieve it. Still, the six guards that Bancross and her accomplice had trounced would be scrubbing the bilges for a month, and Amon had yet to show his face above-decks. As usual, Khallra was handling failure the best of any of his officers, applying his disappointment to the cracking whip that kept their more recent recruits in line. Seeing Lucrezia finally emerge from her cabin, Blake called down.

    "Ahoy, First Mate, and good morning! Make ready to land, and inform the men they'll be free to go ashore as soon as we have the swag loaded in the warehouse."

    A cheer went up from the men in the rigging, the laughter and japes of men too long asea. Even Blake managed a smile as they floated past the assembled ship in the harbor and into one of the six stone berths that denoted its claimant as a Pirate Lord.
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2012-06-14 at 04:53 AM.

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  5. - Top - End - #5
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    Elven Embassy
    Vasae


    Happy to be off the boat, Vasae had made his way to the Elven Embassy as swiftly as he could for a bit of the familiar after having been on the open seas for so long. The meager group of servants hurried about to make preparations for their new boss as quickly as they could, stripping down the brickabrack of the former keeper of the Embassy for a much more sensible and spartan appearance. His room had been prepared perfectly, a large bed laid out on the floor which was a much needed sight after being cramped on a boat for so long. And that was where one could find Vasae in the early morning light, the cool sea breeze blowing through his hair as he mulled over various documents. Shipping through the islands was at a low for the season for what ever reason, piracy was up and didn’t seem like it would be dropping any time soon and what was worse he actually had to give a damn about all of it. Pirate raids could be dealt with but if people didn’t wish for Elven goods that would be more problematic, at least for this trade port and it’s Embassy. Several dossiers had been left for his reading pleasure as well, details of the “Pirate Lords” and several nobles that called the islands home.

    He carried the large bundle of papers with him as he finally grew tired of laying about, a well earned bath was also on his list of things to recive and the staff was much to happy to oblige. Things had been simpler in Varden, no bowing or scraping or titles of prestige. If one simply wished for a bath or dinner they went and got it themselves. It almost made a smile cross his face when he realized just how much trouble he was going to bring to this sleepy little island mansion. The butler was already giving him glances out of the corner of his eye when he shed his robes long before he reached the baths, feeling the humid air on his flesh and the scent of salt in his nose. He couldn’t be so free outside the walls of the Embassy, but at least for the moment he could revel in the more or less solitude afforded him after so long on a boat with a crew of humans. He would have to get dinner later, several tasks already awaiting his attention after his debriefing. Perhaps after a bath. The “Lords” of these islands could wait for him to at least get clean couldn’t they? They weren’t savages after all.



    Wayfarer's Point, Bukiya Inn
    17th day of Amber's Fall, 8 in the morning


    Bored, that was the word for it. Even a day of looking over papers was enough to make him need some relaxation a few kowtowing servants simply wasn’t going to get him even if he wanted it to. He was in a port city known for it’s drunken pirates and adventures for the Teachers sake and he was going to enjoy every last minute of it if it made a scandal the size of a redwood for the entire Confederacy. A bit of poking around however in the wee morning streets of the city got him what he wanted, a bar and one known for it’s clientele. He wanted to see what this city held with his own eyes, more worried it would be to late to find such entertainment than his own safety. He was after all a Mage and his dossier mentioned that the human population centers had a strange fear of such powers. If push came to shove he’d simply run back to the Embassy and hide out if things got to heated. At best...who knew really? What was the harm of sneaking out in the morning to explore a city known for being the largest den of scum on the high seas?

    So it was for that reason the Elven Ambassador Vasae slipped into the Bukiya Inn dressed in long robes, a long scarf wrapped around his face though the points of his ears gave him away almost instantly. His eyes darted about the bar, falling upon any still there at such a late hour before taking a seat somewhere near enough by the door for a swift escape should things take a turn for the expected.
    Last edited by Tebryn; 2012-06-14 at 11:04 AM.

  6. - Top - End - #6
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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    Descending fast upon the Lucien's castle it seemed as though Arabella and Rayle would strike the ground like a stone. Instead though Arabella flung open her wings at just the right moment to arrest her fall just enough that her landing only murmured a slight rumble.

    Drawing close enough to the master of the castle to see that it is the master of the castle (or else one of his fantastic forgeries) the large writ features of Arabella's red scale visage brightened. Then hearing his formal greeting toward her face lowered itself and she put on a frown. "Please... I've asked you not to call me that." Her falsetto voice rumbling through the many, many sharp teeth in her mouth. "I'm just Arabella. Not Lady, not Draig."

    With that little bit done she put on her smile again and asked quickly if he could arrange for some clothes for her. If asked why she needed clothes she would give a strange half-smile and gesture with her body at the fact of her appearance. She left particulars up to chance and let Rayle herself explain why they'd come while she made herself decent for less scaly company.
    Last edited by Valgunn; 2012-06-16 at 12:37 AM.
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    I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
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  7. - Top - End - #7
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    In Transit From and To Ports Unknown

    It had been a long and unpleasant journey aboard the Gleaming Chariot, but she’s expected as much.

    The alignment of the stars indicated an inauspicious time to enter business arrangements, according to her tealeaves the ship that requested her aid was doomed to see battle in that voyage, and worst of all the lines of captain’s palm indicated a dishonest soul. All the same, she was broke and even though it’d be putting into port at an island twice removed, the wind called on her to set sail toward Wayfarer's Point as soon as possible.

    Though the first mate had insisted on her hire, due to her reputation and risk of Sea Demons on their planned route, Tirac crews are rarely kind to Driftfolk. As it turned out, once they’d set sail, “thieving cannibal pirates” weren’t allowed to eat in the mess, nor are they provided a bunk below deck.

    Hakuhale and Bargained a hefty price in anticipation that she’d have to fish for her meals, sleep in the open, and endure all manner of heckling and scorn from a gaggle of salt-less landfolk, so she made no complaints. Their tune changed quick enough when the first gibber-slime squirmed aboard on the fifth day out.

    It was almost amusing seeing them panic. They were helpless in their ignorance. They poured shot after shot from their black powder toys into its amorphous form to no apparent effect. Naturally, it absorbed and forged the lead pellets into fangs, shaping mouths with which to scream their cries and petty insults back toward them.

    DiE yOu HoRroRiBlE tHinG!! hElp!! DoN’t LeT iT tOuCh MeEeEeE!!

    Hakuhale simply watched it intently. She pushed all else from her mind. She did not respond when they turned their frustrations on her, demanding to know why she wasn’t taking action, demanding to know what she knew, accusing her of incompetence, accusing her of revenge through inaction. She readied a harpoon.

    It caught a man by the leg with a lashing pseudopod and began reeling him in. She wasn’t completely confident she’d drawn a bead on the slime’s heart…

    All its mouths shrieked a hellish song as she pulled the rope trailing from her harpoon, an excellent sign. She’d caught it in the heart sure enough, but it wouldn’t be done until she’d wrenched it out of its main mass and tossed it into a fire.

    The next couple days after that saw her treatment by the crew at large improve considerably. They treated her better still when her efforts against the Mind-feeder attack insured no hands were lost. Sadly that only left her two days of common courtesy before they reached port.

    She was all too eager to take her pay and shove off, which really put the venom in her voice when she was forced to ask, “Waht do ye meahn ye ‘ahve noting vor me?”*

    Captain Vander Croigue smiled pleasantly as though he’d been looking forward to this the entire voyage as he replyed, “I mean just that. I am a licensed merchant flying a Tirac flag; I have no money for pirates. You’re free to go, so long as you do so immediately”.

    Astonished by his audacity she protested, “Aye, taht’s ahll well ahnd good matey, but ye swore ah Bahrgain wit ye ahnd stahined in me own blood taht I’m ‘not to leahve tis ship witout ahdequahte compensahtions for me woes’. Wile I convess te tought ov ye screahming wile ahll te jelly in ye eyes goes ah dibbling down ye cecks might do me eahrt some good, it won’t do ah damn ting to fill me belly.”**

    At this the captain guffawed loudly. Gesturing dismissively he said, “I’ll say it again, I am a licensed merchant flying a Tirac flag! That necessarily entails a curtain degree of sophistication I am unsurprised you wouldn’t be used to. I’m not impressed by theatrics and mystic hokum, nor do I have any expectation the port authority will be moved by the word of some piece of wave trash over mine. Now get off my ship”.

    Hakuhale scanned the faces of the crew. Seeing them drawn into blank masks or cast down in shame told her that not a soul would speak on her behalf, which was to be respected. The captain’s word is law.

    He began laughing again as she turned to disembark empty handed. He was laughing so hard he didn’t notice the mounting pressure in his eye sockets, which began to build as she made her way down the gangplank. As she put her right foot to dock board, she resolved not to wince or turn to look.

    The instant she placed her left foot in front of her the screaming began. She did flinch but did not turn to look, just hurried along, hoping to catch sight of a friendly flag at port.

    Accent Translation
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    * What do you mean you have nothing for me?

    ** “Yes, that’s all well and good friend, but you swore a Bargain with your hand stained in my own blood that I’m ‘not to leave this ship without adequate compensation for my woes’.
    While I confess the thought of you screaming while all the jelly in your eyes goes dibbling down your checks might do my heart some good, it won’t do a damn thing to fill my belly
    Last edited by DoomHat; 2012-06-15 at 02:12 AM.

  8. - Top - End - #8
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    Goodbye, Goodbye
    My dear seagull
    flying here and there
    and calling in the blue sky
    Where do you travel?
    What stories do you sing?
    Come home, come home!
    and share your travel song

    The lamp light I bring
    this warm night
    of purple sky and shining stars
    beckon, welcome and welcome
    8 million times
    So, to wait and greet the same stars
    come home, come home!
    I will be waiting for your return

    The harbor of Wayfarer's Point always is busy, with seagulls, humans, and others who come to visit this port. For an island with such a name 'wayfarer' it is of course the case of [traveler], and so along the docks there are of course many places to rest and recover spirits and live on land for a short time before a new journey. But to climb the hill towards the city, of course a sturdy and well cleaned appearance of a certain inn can be seen. And in front of it there is a sign to welcome guests, though there is not such a [calling girl] to stand and announce such a thing with loud voice. The appearance is of such a quiet and inviting place. Peony decorates gracefully under the windows, and for a traveler who can remember the description of this quaint place in an adventure guide, the sign is unnecessary.

    But the sign stands faithfully, written

    "Welcome to Bukiya Inn and Shop!"

    And under this, it can be seen with a white chalk and cheerful handwriting

    "Guild Members and Storytellers 10% Discount!"

    And under this, it can be seen with a green chalk and careful handwriting

    "Vacancies and Stories"

    Surely it is the afterthought of a focused employee, to correct such a forgotten and important notice.

    A certain young woman with a headband and bow tied in blond hair is sweeping dutifully the steps and with occasion to try with no success to chase unwelcome wild cats out of the garden. But despite such a serious attitude, she seems the personality to leave food out for such cats at night. She wears the blue and green apron of the Bukiya Inn, and for some visitors, she is called Myst.

    Such is the appearance of the Bukiya Inn today, like most mornings.


    Bukiya Inn (Shop)

    While a certain dutiful employee and close friend and compass rose sword named Mystletinn is to dutifully clean and watch the Inn for customers, the owner is to be humming a song about seagulls to the swords and weapons arranged neatly in the shop. She inspects such a short sword named [Sword Breaker] and cheerfully uses a cloth to clean off fingerprints.
    "Mystletinn didn't mean to ignore you. She's just afraid of your name." Non apologized to the sword.

    The dutiful sword and employee named Mystletinn of course, if her true nature is to be understood, it becomes obvious and forgivable an oversight. Non however, is wearing her long hair with a green bow and is dressed with her inn uniform of green and blue apron. Today she has no request for equipment or tools, so it can be a relaxing afternoon in the inn or to take a walk. Probably this evening some more customers will come when the ships come.

    "Oh, I have to get groceries today!" Non realized. She opened the window and called out to Mystletinn.
    "Myst, can you go shopping after you finish? We need more fruits and fish and bread and cheese." Mystletinn made a grimace expression.
    "I can, but you will have to clean and hang the laundry and the customer rooms." Such is the conversation of business, and Mystletinn had learned quickly.
    "I'll go shopping." Non replied. "But don't forget to clean [Sword Breaker] next time! Someone will want to buy our weapons, you know."
    "If you want to sell such a crude and barbaric name weapon, you should choose it's name to be more polite." Mystletinn said with a suspicious look at the sword. Non waved away the words of Mystletinn with a smile and hand gesture while holding the sword, but such an action caused Mystletinn to step back.

    "Lots of customers like a strong and dangerous named weapon you know." Mystletinn warily looked from sword to Non. Then she looked back at the broom and returned to sweeping.
    "I don't think I have ever met a human named [Mr. Murderer Human-slayer]. So, I don't see why you would choose such a crude name."

    "She really is stubborn." Non said with a sigh, and set the [Sword Breaker] down and closed the window. She looked at the shop with a satisfied smile, and then returned to the inn.
    Last edited by Kasanip; 2012-06-14 at 05:22 AM.
    Kasanip's Sketchbook 2 Thread
    It is difficult to speak English, please excuse mistakes kindly m(_ _)m

  9. - Top - End - #9
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    Wayfarer's Point, Bukiya Inn
    17th day of Amber's Fall, Half past 9 in the morning

    Amon slowly step into the Inn, hope the sign was correct. His eyes darted around, trying to see anyone that he knew from his time in the Cult. Seeing no familiar faces he continued, thinking as he strided across the poorly light room.
    He need a place to stay until he could find safe passage.
    He couldn't trust travelling during the day, too much risk. His affliction would be visable, he couldn't escape, and his combat skill came from his ally.


    Eventually he reached the bar. Jamilia stood behind him, noting the entrances and exits.
    A woman stood at the wooden counter, she seemed bored and slightly annoyed, but still polite enough for her to wait for Amon's request.
    "Excuse my blunt tongue but, how much would a room be worth in this Inn?"
    Waiting for her reply, the afflicted tried to memorize how much money he still had. Each day his wealth decayed, lost through boarding, food, or his cohort.

    He needed to find a way to get some money, else he will die in this port.
    Last edited by Milo v3; 2012-06-14 at 08:21 AM.
    Currently Holds the Title of "Earl of Innocence"

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  10. - Top - End - #10
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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt: Foyer
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    "As you wish," Lucien hummed dismissively. "Oh, you must forgive me, you see my breeding and courtly manners will not allow me to besmirch..."

    "Knock it off!" hissed Rayle.

    "Knocking it off,"
    he consented, the rest of his speech forgotten.

    The Marquis grinned and spared a last look to Arabella outside the door. "Your secret's safe with me. All of them, actually."

    Crossing the foyer he snapped sharply and instructed a maid to fetch something for his guest to wear. It was a common belief that the Marquis refused to speak Tiric in his house on principle, or even that he only spoke in Floran unless addressing a guest who did not. The curious truth was that few of the serving girls spoke Floran and were receiving constant tutelage. Of course, the truth behind the purpose of such lessons was stranger still.

    The doors beneath the grand staircase opened into the statuary, a short, broad and windowless hall where the only light came from twin rows of candles affixed high on brass stands that flanked the blue velvet carpet. As they passed, the candlelight flickered ominously over the sculpted marble forms of the Floran Faiths, depicted in angelic form. A learned mind would have known them all (the patrons of War, Art, Health, Law, Speech, Knowledge, Architecture and the Fields)... and known the ninth, Wealth, to be conspicuously absent.

    Once inside the Marquis's office at the north end of the gallery, Lucien took the time to light a few more candles in Rayle's honor before seating himself behind the enormous coffee colored wood desk and settling in to the overstuffed chair upholstered in the family colors. In fact, every chair in the house was at least fitted with a royal blue cushion. A pair of carved rocs held the desk aloft atop four massive talons, each at an end with their wings outstretched along the front. The Florin royal seal was proudly fixed in center, a ring of seven fleur-de-lys in gold over a field of white. A gift from the king, he claimed, and a symbol of the mutual respect between the Cielcoeur and royal family. Considering the craftsmanship and sheer size of the Brobdingnagian monstrosity, who could doubt him. It must have cost a small fortune for the twelve foot wide desk to have even been transported from Florin.

    "Housebreaking again, Rayle? Not very ladylike."
    In a ungentlemanly fashion himself, he'd draped a leg carelessly over the arm of his chair and slouched into it. He paused to sip his sherry before explaining, "There's a small rip in your inseam, mid-thigh. The sort of wardrobe damage one incurs when climbing through a window. The dried mud on your boots is a particular shade of red found in the clay-like soil of the aptly named Redwater. There are other islands with similar soil, but none that received yesterday evening's brief shower. And the blade of verdant, well manicured grass along for the ride... a species imported from Syland. Surprised it does so well in the heat. A grass, which I know to grow at the Koertig estate in Redwater or Roteswasser."

    Lucien abruptly rose, to snatch the bottle of sherry from the silver tray on his desk and refill his glass and a second one for Rayle. Offering it over, he resumed, "So, what is it that you have stolen from Reichsgraf Koertig that demands my attention?"

    So he had lied about knowing what sort of grass the Koertigs had in their lawn. He'd actually received an invitation to the auction she'd just crashed and had declined... but Rayle didn't need to know what he didn't know.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2012-06-15 at 12:38 AM.

  11. - Top - End - #11
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    Hydranova's Avatar

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    Wayfarer's Point, Bukiya Inn
    8:15 AM, the 21st

    A farmer hummed happily as he drove a wagon destined for market, laden with crops and animals. As it rolled into the port areas, a figure hopped off, and scurried into the crowd. He then dusted off his crimson and black robes, glad the farmer had given him a ride. Even if he didn't know about it- wasn't exactly something he'd do again (the pig was a boor). Taking a small pack off his pack, he rummaged through it, making sure that he had his book, some apples, and a large coinpurse that was only so in the sense that a potato sack with only three potatos in it is large. A face of constrenation behind his mask, he transferred all the coins to his pocket, leaving the coinpurse behind in the street as he walked off. HE was slightly unease, hoping that the alley dwellers had something else to preoccupy their minds as they walked, on the lookout for anyone that seemed particularly interested in him as he walked. A feeling of slight relief came over him, though he still remained tense, as he came upon an inn. The Bukiya inn, it had read. Might as well finally get a good nights rest in a legitimate establishment- Morgus opened the door, and walked in.

    Inside, he looked to a mirror that was nearby- nothing on his mask that he was unaware of- and turned his attention to the patrons.

    Inconspicuous? Hah! You stand out like a broken and bleeding thumb! HAving second thoughts so long after that day, are we?

    Morgush frowned, mentally smacking that voice in the head, as he walked up to the counter for the innkeep. He rung a bell that was there, looking for any sign of the proprietor.
    Last edited by Hydranova; 2012-06-14 at 10:58 PM.

  12. - Top - End - #12
    Bugbear in the Playground
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    Regulus Fortune, Sailing into Wayfarer's Harbor
    21st day of Amber's Fall
    Morning

    Renato Benso


    Sailors leapt over the side of the boat ropes in hand. Deftly bare feet landed on the dock as they quickly secured the docking lines. Men raced to and fro on deck securing the boat from its arrival. It was a motley mix of men some were just 14 years of age, fresh faced on their first voyage others were pushing 50, their skin turned to leather from decades on the sea. Mixed in with them were soldiers. Some helping with the docking while the rest kept their eyes open for threats. They were after all docking in a pirate's port.

    Two nobles watched from the bridge. While they were in charge of this ship and crew there were no need to give orders to the men. They knew their jobs and generations of them had been at sea before. It was in their blood.

    "Have you been to Wayfarer's before?" Renato the higher ranked man asked.

    "A few times aboard your father's boats. It is a lawless, wild place. I don't trust them." Amedeo nodded absently as he answered.

    "Maybe we should have had waited the few months and avoided this blasted place then." Renato had raced the boat out of port only days after it was crewed. He was hoping to have gotten cannons installed but the foundary said his order wouldn't be filled for months and he had wanted to get to the new world before anyone else could steal his glory. Wayfarer's was the only spot between here and there that could provide him with those cannons and thus he was forced to dock there.

    "No matter now though. Keep a man in the crows, four on deck and two at the gangway at all times. No one but our men come aboard. Make sure our stores get resupplied and I'll find out about acquiring us some cannons."

    "Of course. I believe there is an inn called the bukiya that the locals and merchants gather at. You should speak with them." Amedeo pointed to a few sailors lazing about. "You men! Get the gangway in place for the captain!"

    The sailors jumped to it pushing the plank in place as Renato strode down to it. "Alfonso! Giovanni! With me!" The two men were old veterans. Each had served over a dozen years with House Benso as guards of the house and guards of boats. They had seen more battles than most men have seen years. Each had a long sword hanging from their hips and a flintlock pistol. If there was anyone Renato would be safe with it would be them. They quickly fell into flanking positions with Renato as he departed the ship.

    As they walked the streets Renato's hand rested atop the hilt of his sword Winter's edge, his hand place both as a symbol of force and a safety precaution from theft as his coin purse was positioned between the blade and his dagger. Any attempt to go for it would mean Renato would feel the hand. Navigating the streets in their search for the inn a morning crowad gathered in front of them buying and selling wares, legal and illegal and generally clogging the street. This would not do. "Step aside for his lordship!"

    The closest of the crowd looked over and quickly scuttled away opening a path for the trio. It was not out of any defference to him or his post as it would have been in Latium but more of the fact that the three heavily armed men would have surely plowed into them if they had not.

    Bukiya Inn

    Clearing the entranceway of the inn Renato looked around taking in everything. His two men still at his sides and he walked up to the bar and yelled to the bartender "Bar keep. Wine. Red," as he removed a coin from his purse and placed it down on the counter. He looked about, he needed to find a local in the know. He wanted those damn cannons, the sooner the better, but he could wait till he returned from Capriano.
    Last edited by LongVin; 2012-06-14 at 11:48 AM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sayn
    You know, I'm beginning to realize that when I chose to go from being a player to being the GM, I essentially went from being a mere leader of some nation to being God. And it feels good.
    Quote Originally Posted by Jade_Tarem View Post
    It's been said that a good backstory is like a skirt - it should be long enough to cover everything that needs to be covered, but short enough that it can keep someone's interest. This... is basically the train of a wedding dress.

  13. - Top - End - #13
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    Xondoure's Avatar

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    Bukiya Inn
    2 in the Morning


    No response from inside. Jonathan had arrived here too late to expect anyone to be around to greet him. He knocked again before doubling over in pain. This wasn't good. He hadn't made it inside yet. Grimmacing he steadied himself and prepared to knock once more. He would have to use a little magic. As his knuckles struck the door the wind outside roared with a sudden burst of strength that vanished as soon as his arm pulled back. Once, twice, thrice in perfect rhythm he struck, before collapsing to the ground. He couldn't spare any more strength. It was taking all of his magic just to stop the bleeding.

    "Hurry Non." He whispered just before passing into unconsciousness.
    Last edited by Xondoure; 2012-06-14 at 03:03 PM.
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  14. - Top - End - #14
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    TechnOkami's Avatar

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    The Wraith
    18th day of Amber's Fall
    Midnight
    Lucrezia Chevalier


    Lucrezia woke up with a jolt, beads of sweat running down her pale skin, glistening in the moonlight. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her nightgown, eyes wide and staring into the darkness. She looked around her cabin, checking to make sure she wasn't in a waking dream. Though hard to see, the room was outlined faintly by the pale blue light streaming in from the small port hole. A long, ancient, and slightly curved blade hung on the wall, and beneath it a chest with tufts of clothes and finery kept inside. Her body shivered slightly, the small cabin's cold air drawing warmth awa from her. She pulled her knees up to her chest, carrying the covers along with it. She wrapped them around her like a protective cocoon, nestling herself within the corner of her bed, flush to the corner of the room itself. She held herself, her mind still reeling from the nightmare, slightly panicked by the demons of her past.

    And then a long, deep cry resonated softly through the ship. Her head rose from her covers, turning to listen more keenly with slender elvish ears. The soft cry came again. She rose from her bed, peering out of her little window. Before her eyes were beautiful moonlit waters, colored beautifully by the azure light. A dark silhouette emerged from the sea, keeping speed with the ship she was in. It was a shape not unfamiliar to her; it was her own vessel, nay, her aqueous companion of the seas. It was her Dragon Turtle, the great shelled dreadnought whiched sent ships to the depths and blasted foes until they were thoroughly cooked through was now playing, dancing in the waters beside the wooden hull. She new she wouldn't fall asleep any time soon, and perhaps the sea breeze could aid in that endeavor. Small hands reached for leather, as she slid the first of her white legs into the boot, fitting snugly around it. She moved the second boot on just as easily, standing and tapping its nos, tightening the grip around her foot. Still in a night gown, she pulled out a long coat from the chest below, as well as a fine, shimmering shawl, inlaid with intricate spiraling patters of the rolling sea, matching hew and all. It was her mothers once, a very long and lonely time ago...

    She opened the cabin door, closing it behind her as she made her way to the deck, her boots clacking along the floorboards. She moved quickly through the ship's insides, ascending the stairs into the open air. The night sky was laden with stars, shimmering like little jewels set into an elegant gown of black cloth. If that's true, then the moon is the centerpiece of this fine dress, full and fat with light. Lucrezia marveled at its beauty, until her attention returned to her watery companion. She moved to the nose of the ship, watching the great shelled mass poke its head from the water. It bellowed, then dived back down, circling the terrible vessel of Captain Ramsay Blake. She smiled, watching her pet go 'round and 'round.

    "Silly."

    She took a seat, staring up at the night sky. She was reminded of her younger years, running around the halls of her mother and father with the pitter patter of her once tiny feet. For some reason, the lyrics of a song came to her mind. She began to hum it, trying to recall the melody. Soon though, sitting alone out on the open deck, she began to sing.

    "My lover's arms
    Well they beg me to stay
    I know the stars
    They will sweep me away
    My daughter's eyes
    They are two tiny seas
    Whose water will rise
    And they will run down her cheeks.

    Father where do you go?
    So far out upon the sea
    when are you coming home to me?
    Darling, why do you leave?
    The north wind begins to blow
    Will you be coming home to me?"


    Tears streamed down her eyes as memories of her life flooded her mind like a storm. There, for a good few minutes, she softly cried to herself.

    The Wraith, Sailing into Wayfarer's Harbor
    21st day of Amber's Fall
    Late Morning
    Lucrezia Chevalier


    She was fully dressed in her pirate gear this morning; bandana, sword, skirt, boots, corset- the works. Lucrezia's head turned upwards when the Captain called to her down below. Always on time... she thought as the captain received thunderous applause for his orders to the crew.

    She cooly responded, "I would tell them that, Captain, but I think you just did it for me. How can I be your First Mate if you keep taking over my work? Not that I mind, of course..."

    Regardless of his response, she made her way top deck, soon standing beside Blake, her right hand resting on her sword hilt, her left on her hip.
    Last edited by TechnOkami; 2012-06-15 at 12:40 AM.
    You know nothing, TechnOkami.
    Oh, and my Extended Signature.

    78% of DM's started their first campaign in a tavern. If you're one of the 22% that didn't, copy and paste this into your signature.

    I started my first campaign outside of an abandoned mine, just as soon as a meteor storm from the moon hits.

  15. - Top - End - #15
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    Valgunn's Avatar

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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    Arabella grinned with Lucien as he made his last comment to her from beyond beyond the doors. "I never thought it was otherwise," was all he reply to him as he vanished from sight. Lucien wasn't a bad man Arabella thought to herself after he had vanished from view. She did think he wasn't the sort of man you took lightly and if you did then any trouble you got was already bought and paid for by your own thoughts and actions.

    Alone on the doorstep until one of Lucien's servants brought her some clothes to replace those she'd lost -- or until she decided she didn't mind wandering through his home without them -- the half ton of dragon lounged and preened. She took pride in her appearance no matter which of her two forms she appeared in, so she found herself preening herself without much thought going into her actions. The long flight had left her with a grubby feeling that created an itchy feeling where her red scales gave way to gold-yellow flesh. With great cared she rubbed and scratched at the irritated spots with her claws which were still thankfully not the armour destroying terrors found it stories yet.

    It wasn't long until the maid he had snapped at and ordered to gather clothes for her to wear appeared with the aforementioned articles of clothing. The girl found Arabella on her back trying to scratch at the point in-between the shoulder blades of her front legs. It wasn't the most dignified position but even upside-down her three-horned visage managed to appear if not dignified then at least something you didn't tell that to. Arabella was quickly aware of it and tried her best to be congenial to put the girl at ease though given who the girl worked for she thought it might not be entirely necessary.

    Arabella waited for the girl to leave again to change in both both form and clothing. She wasn't particularly embarrassed about appearing naked -- especially in front of another woman -- but there was a tinge of it in regards to here fiery transformation -- at least in front of people she didn't know. Properly attired in human form and human dress again the former half ton of dragon turned barely one-twentieth of a ton of human made her way to where Rayle and Lucien had retired with the helpful guidance of the castle staff.
    Last edited by Valgunn; 2012-06-16 at 12:37 AM.
    "I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves," - Nobody

  16. - Top - End - #16
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    Castle Greycourt, 21st of Amber's Fall, after midnight

    Rayle raises an eyebrow. "A gentleman is supposed to maintain eye contact with a lady, Mr. Odd-hours." She digs around in her pack, producing the cup that's been through so much in the last few hours. "Exhibit A: Your fee. Authentic enough for it's original owner, although I don't know any of the history. It seems to be real gold, though." Without further ado, she places it on the desk in front of him. "As for what it's for, I just need to use your library."
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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    "It's a good thing there are no gentlemen present then." Arabella said with a smile. "I'd hate to be wearing something Lucien sees fit to have in his castle only to have the sight wasted." With an almost imperceptible movement the happy smile changed to a sly one.
    Last edited by Valgunn; 2012-06-16 at 12:37 AM.
    "I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves," - Nobody

  18. - Top - End - #18
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    Castle Greycourt: Lucien's Office
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    "Oh not tonight, dear; I have a headache," Lucien quipped to Arabelle while pouring a third glass of sherry for his guest. It was a dark and heavy vintage, something dangerously close to a dessert wine. Lucien wasn't the sort to care what he drank after midnight though and he had a horrible sweet tooth.

    "Ah, good, she got you one of Sylvie's old dresses. Outgrew it in the spring. She's uh, something of a late bloomer. You know, I had a rosebush back home that was the same way. Took it a while, but it produced blooms the size of your... em... oh don't look at me that way, Rayle! She's a third cousin!"

    He coughed and slapped playfully at his other hand which was cupping an invisible blossom. Quickly after, he produced a razor blade from a desk drawer, took the gold chalice in hand and continued to tease the ladies, "Do have a seat. I was just about to disappoint your partner in crime."

    Giving the bottom of the chalice a quick scratch and squinting to make out the maker's mark, he sighed and poked out his lips in defeat. "Alas, real. Seilers the Fifth, peerless Sylberg goldschmidt... or a man who can afford excellent apprentices. I'll give you thirty five marks for it. Oh, you wanted something didn't you? I'm afraid my library is currently out of commission..."

    A pained look crossed his face and he wrinkled his brow. "There was. I told him that it wouldn't. And they bet me that I couldn't recite the Orkish alphabet backwards while... I... I don't even know where they got the goats. And... gods, the carbuncle... you know what, I don't really want to talk about it. The point is, my library is sealed up for now... just off limits... until the smell clears. Sooo not worth the fifty marks I won..."

    Straightening, he took a moment to rub the bridge of his nose before retrieving the reading glasses from atop a small pile of books. "Never mind that. What is it that you want translated?"
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2012-06-15 at 04:07 AM.

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    21st of Amber's Fall, Castle Greycourt, After Midnight

    "How's the smell going to clear if it's sealed up?" Rayle asks. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. If you can tear yourself away from 'Bella showing off her wits for a moment, I'd like you to take a look at this." Rayle pulls the neatly folded documents from an interior vest pouch, placing them in front of Lucien. "It's old Sylish, but if you have enough free time to memorize obscure grass migrations and the date that your cousins started 'blooming,' then you probably know the language. And since this kind of translation usually runs for about twenty-five marks, can we consider the rest an incentive to not mention this to anyone else?"

    Rayle was mentally kicking herself - her usual meetings with Lucien were somewhat more convivial. On the other hand, her usual meetings with Lucien were to discuss 'regular' jobs - high value artwork or cursed gold or something.

    Nothing like this. This was important.
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    Wayfarer's Point, Castle Greycourt
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    At Lucien's quip Arabella put on a patently false pout for a few moments before her face returned to its normal, cheerful expression as she took a seat at his direction. "Perhaps you should hire a man to do those things for you?" She returned. "For when your health doesn't permit it." She added as she gently pressed the dress against her legs as they crossed themselves in the seat before she took up the glass with a polite nod.

    As Rayle started talking and -- of all things -- disparaged the banter and his usual intellectual flourishes Arabella put on a shocked visage. She was going to say something about how Rayle should show her own wits more often and that maybe she'd feel better for somebody admiring her wits. They knew each other well enough though that Arabella stopped herself before she did. She considered Rayle a friend and as much as she liked to tease her there was a point where it stopped being friendly -- a line she knew well from her frequent passings over it in both directions.
    Last edited by Valgunn; 2012-06-16 at 12:37 AM.
    "I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves,
    Get on your nerves, Get on your nerves:
    I know a song that'll get on your nerves," - Nobody

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    Castle Greycourt: Lucien's Office
    21st day of Amber's Fall, Before Daybreak


    Positioning the spectacles at the end of his nose, the Marquis hissed, "Windows!" to Rayle before pulling the pages nearer to a candle. "Good job destroying a six hundred year old manuscript, by the way..." he growled, his voice dripping with venom.

    His eyes flitted along the first page as he cleared his throat dramatically. "Ik gihorta dat seggen, dat sih urhettun aenon muotin... I mean, is that the first thing they teach you in treasure hunting school? Oh here's a lovely one-of-a-kind illuminated manuscript, let me just rip out the section I'm interested in! Not even sure I'd let you in my library if it were open. You're mean to books..."

    The haranguing turned into a fussy mumble as he continued reading quietly to himself. At length, Lucien picked up his quill and began to scribble on the stationary to his right. "Just the talking points?" he asked. "It's not a perfect translation. No such thing. I mean, if there's some sort of code... entire subtext lost... the hell is a miktanheggensinutervasen... oh, just a smudge."

    When more than a half hour has passed in relative silence, Lucien fanned the final page of his notes to dry the ink before handing the completed no-frills translation to Rayle.

    "I can think of better ways to spend an hour," he yawned with a glance to the grandfather clock across the room. The time wasn't right. Its pendulum wasn't even moving; the infernal ticking drove Lucien batty, so it was just for show.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2012-06-15 at 04:34 AM.

  22. - Top - End - #22
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    17th day of Amber's Fall
    06:00; Bukiya Inn
    (Jonathan - Xondoure)

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    Jonathan must have been dreaming or hallucinating. A few times he thought he was awake, or could hear a girl's voice talking. But the words couldn't be understood with the heavy pain making his body ache.
    Perhaps other dreams or thoughts were had.

    When he opened his eyes, there was a cool and wet relief feeling on his forehead. He was lying on a soft bed, and it smelled like maple and aged peony. The sunlight can be seen with gentle warmth in the room. It must be a room on the East side, to look over the port, because it is an early dawn color.
    "Ah, you woke up! That's good." The voice of the young woman who sat next to the bed was a familiar voice, or maybe just nostalgic. It was Non. Already dressed in her inn uniform today, and a green bow to hold a ponytail fashion. Her as always content appearance looks concerned (and a little tired), but a comforting smile is waiting too.

    "Good morning, Mr. Jonathan, You're at the Bukiya Inn, but you worried us. To arrive in such a terrible condition, it is fortunate Myst heard you last night! I made Myst call Mr. Donavan to come over to help with the bandages. Ah, your clothes are safe. I'll wash them later."
    She says such an explanation in a way it is not too embarrassing. Of course Jonathan can see there are bandages on his wounds, but there is still some pain of course. Non paused to change the cool towel on his forehead.

    "You should rest for now, ok? There is water and some soup next to the bed." Then there was a small look of secret promise in the smile of Non. It was the meaning of course Jonathan would know about Non. The meaning like:
    "You'll tell me your story sometime, won't you?"

    "Is there anything I can do for you?"

    17th day of Amber's Fall
    08:00; Bukiya Inn
    (Vasae - Tebryn)

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    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Vasae, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island. Maybe it is a little nostalgic?
    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. It must have been a civil war of some city of wizards with four towers. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    For such a city, it is unexpected.

    A small copper bell rings when the door opens, and it can be seen in the inn that there aren't many people right now. A couple of older fishermen eating breakfast and telling a story about big fish together. He can also see a young woman with blonde hair and a bow tied across her forehead, wearing the blue and green colored apron and uniform. She has a serving tray and seems to be waiting by the kitchen for a meal to come. But when Vasae sits down, she goes to him.

    "Ah, good morning. Welcome to Bukiya Inn." She says with a cheerful-like voice, but her expression is curious, to look at the ears of Vasae. She returns to look at him and asks.
    "My name is Myst. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like breakfast? We also have vacancies, and the Weapon Shop too. If it is about the collections, I will call Non for you."

    There is a menu to be written in precise and serious handwriting with green chalk, to be read like:

    Breakfast: Amber's Fall 17th
    Bread & Butter 2¥¥
    Egg 1¥¥
    Fried Egg 2¥¥
    Fish Cutlets 3¥¥
    Adventurer's Special Rice 2¥¥
    Sausages 2¥¥
    Soup 2¥¥
    ~*~
    Milk 2¥¥
    Orange Juice 1¥¥
    Water 1¥¥
    Tea 3¥¥

    It looks very cheap and common, but to smell the meal of the fishermen, probably it is delicious. To see the girl holding the tray properly, a sharp elf eye can notice she is covering her right hand.


    17th day of Amber's Fall
    09:30; Bukiya Inn
    (Amon - Milo v3)

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    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Amon, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island.
    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    A small copper bell rings when the door opens, and it can be seen in the inn that there aren't many people right now. He can also see a young woman with blonde hair and a bow tied across her forehead, wearing the blue and green colored apron and uniform. She seems a little bored or annoyed and is cleaning dishes carefully. But she looks at Amon with a curious expression. Then she looks at Jamilia and at Amon again.

    "A Single Room is 10¥¥ for one day. If it is a Double Room, it is 20¥¥." She answers politely. "A Single Room bed isn't very big." She adds helpfully, to look at Jamilia again.
    "However, there is always the Bukiya Inn Special, it can be 10%-50% off, if you have stories to tell and record. I can call Non, the owner, if you would like."



    []day of Amber's fall
    08:15; Bukiya Inn
    (Morgus - Hydranova)

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    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Morgus, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island.
    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    Even if it is a nice and clean appearance, these things probably are not worth very much money.

    When the bell of the counter is rung, there is a cheerful and pleasant voice to answer.

    "Coming!" From the kitchen, a young woman with long black hair tied in a ponytail with a green bow, comes. She is wearing a blue and green apron and uniform of the inn, and a content appearance with a welcoming smile.
    "Good morning! Welcome to the Bukiya Inn! As a first time guest, a special welcome! My name is Non, what can I do for you?"

    A little slowly, she seemed to notice he was wearing a mask, but it didn't seem to confuse her.
    "Ah, that is certainly a beautiful mask! I have never seen something like that before. I am sure you have an interesting story about it." She finished cleaning her hands on a towel. The smell of a fresh meal follows from the kitchen.


    21st day of Amber's Fall
    Morning; Bukiya Inn
    (Renato Benso - LongVin)


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    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Renato, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island.

    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. It must have been a civil war of some city of wizards with four towers. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    A small copper bell rings when the door opens, and it can be seen in the inn that there aren't many people right now. A couple of older fishermen eating breakfast and telling a story about big fish together. They look annoyed and darkly at Renato and his men with his loud entrance, but they mutter quietly to each other. The young woman who is cleaning the bar has long black hair and a green bow to tie this ponytail. She is also wearing the blue and green colored apron and uniform. She takes the coin pleasantly.
    "Welcome to Bukiya Inn and Shop!" She says. "Certainly, my lord." She disappeared for a minute, then returned with a bottle of red wine. It looked like a good type, probably it was from Tirac. And to come this far, it must have come through port Skelart sometime.

    Non poured the wine politely.
    "Is there anything else I can do for you?" She pauses, looking at the swords. "Ah!" A delightful smile becomes her face. "Are you gentlemen from Latium? You have beautiful swords."
    Last edited by Kasanip; 2012-06-15 at 04:09 AM.
    Kasanip's Sketchbook 2 Thread
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    17th day of Amber's Fall
    09:30; Bukiya Inn

    This is a nice building, the smell was strange but nice. That owl statue looked familiar but he couldn't place it. I wonder why I never went here before my spell of bad luck.
    I have 22 pennies all up, 13 would be enough for the double room, but I would be even poorer.
    He know that this would be risky if his hunters found out he was here but he needed the money.


    "I think I have a tale."
    Amon pulled up his left sleeve, revealing his pale skin. The blonde haired woman wondered what was so special about his arm, then she noticed his pure black blood running through his veins like a dark web.
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    17th day of Amber's Fall
    06:00; Bukiya Inn


    Jonathan smiled and tried to move, but the sensation nearly sent him right back into the black as pain arced through his body. Gasping for breath he forced a smile onto his face.

    "I'll be fine Non. I jus- I just need time. Time and the strongest painkillers you can find."

    All at once his hand shot out and gripped the sheets so hard they began to smoke. Talking faster now he glanced at Non with eyes that said "listen very carefully or I am going to die."

    "Nope, no time. No painkillers either. I think I just punctured a lung."

    Wrenching the napkin from the table he wrapped it tightly to create a gag.

    "When I'm finished here, I'm going to get sick. It should't be too bad. Under normal circumstances I could handle this kind of power. It does mean once I'm finished I won't be conscious for at least another few days though.

    Oh, and in the case I don't wake up... Sorry about the bedsheets."


    His hand drifted over the bandages; tracing symbols and formings patterns around the wounds. A few words were muttered under his breath before he bit down as hard as he could on the cloth. And in a flash of red light Jonathan collapsed.

    As he fell back a peculiar thing happened. The bandages began to burn away leaving the wounds visible for Non to see. The damage was hideous. It was as if someone had driven a stake into the right side of his chest and proceed to yank it across his shoulder. In fact this was not far from the truth, though it had been a minotaur's horn that had done the damage. The fire that had burned away the bandages continued burn over the wounds. The flesh began to burn, but instead of causing more damage, it was almost as if the flames worked to repair what they could.

    Throughout the process Jonathan's hands traced over his own wounds. With great care he began to shift each rib back into place. The ring on his hand shown so brightly it hurt to look at. And the irises of his eyes turned as red as the fire which played across his chest. With iron determination he worked through the pain, until most of the damage had been reversed. Finally he allowed the fire to subside, his body to all outward appearances fully healed. Spitting out the cloth he turned and smiled. His voice barely more than a whisper.

    "See? Piece of cake..."

    20th day of Amber's Fall
    Break of dawn


    As the first rays of sunlight struck his window Jonathan's eyes snapped open. Upon awakening for the first time in days he immediately set out to inspect himself. Sitting upright he counted all of his fingers with each other digit of the opposite hand while humming an old florin lullaby. Satisfied that he had passed his own little test he pushed himself out of bed and dressed himself with the clothes that had been left for him. He then proceeded to search around the room until he found a piece of parchment. Pausing for a moment to consider his message, Jonathan began to write quite forgetting the need for a pen. Of course wherever his finger moved along the page neatly written calligraphy appeared in light scorch marks. The note read thusly:

    Nothing like a near death experience to make you crave a little adventure. Speaking of which, have I got a story for you this time.
    Back soon,
    Jonathan Hearth
    Last edited by Xondoure; 2012-06-15 at 05:40 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    [b]17th day of Amber's Fall

    [/SPOILER]
    []day of Amber's fall
    08:15; Bukiya Inn
    (Morgus - Hydranova)

    [SPOILER]

    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Morgus, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island.
    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    Even if it is a nice and clean appearance, these things probably are not worth very much money.

    When the bell of the counter is rung, there is a cheerful and pleasant voice to answer.

    "Coming!" From the kitchen, a young woman with long black hair tied in a ponytail with a green bow, comes. She is wearing a blue and green apron and uniform of the inn, and a content appearance with a welcoming smile.
    "Good morning! Welcome to the Bukiya Inn! As a first time guest, a special welcome! My name is Non, what can I do for you?"

    A little slowly, she seemed to notice he was wearing a mask, but it didn't seem to confuse her.
    "Ah, that is certainly a beautiful mask! I have never seen something like that before. I am sure you have an interesting story about it." She finished cleaning her hands on a towel. The smell of a fresh meal follows from the kitchen.
    OOC: I moved Morgus to the 21st

    IC: Hmm, indeed. Might as well cobble together a random tale. Though it wasn't very exciting. Just at the bottom of some dusty old ruins, filled with traps and what-not. That ought to sate any curiosity. How much is one of your rooms?

  26. - Top - End - #26
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    Joshua
    17th of Amber's Fall
    The Pride of the Wolf
    Morning

    Hanging from the masts of The Pride, Joshua scans the sea from the crows nest. His broad and Spotting Wayfarer's Point, Joshua calls down below:

    "Wayfarer's point is ahead on the horizon Cap'n!" He calls below.
    The distaste in Joshua's mouth lingering like a metallic brew, He should be the one calling the shots on HIS father's vessel. Not some half-wit midshipman.

    The so called "Captain" looks up at Joshua with a snide expression on his face:
    "Aye! Bring down the pirate colors Quick-Blade!" The seadog spit the orders out with venom, equally aware of how much Joshua detests him. "Come down after ye change the colors boy! I have something I wish to speak to ye about." Joshua tips his hat to the Captain, and begins to climb up the mast to host down the colors with haste.

    Grunting with content, Erikson turns to his first mate and whispers:
    "Look, I want him subdued with minimal loses. I don't want half my crew dead because you half-wit's can't match his dancing blades."

    The first mate nods and puts a hand on his pistol as he shouts: "AYE-AYE CAP'N!!!!" The Captain nods curtly and then proceeds to watch Joshua take down the flag, wondering how messy this will become.
    Last edited by Lonewolfe208; 2012-06-15 at 07:30 PM.
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    Wayfarer's Point, harbor
    20th day of Amber's Fall, midday


    A cold wind blew past the harbor as Rhyor Stroum disembarked; he was brown of heir with a slender build and skin tanned from spending long time in the sun. He wore dark green clothes and a black Tricorn on his head. A bag was hanging strapped over his shoulder, a spyglass and some rolled up parchment was sticking up to large to be contained by the bag. With his first steps on land he turned around toward the docked ship and not caring whether or not anyone paid attention to him he removed his hat and made a short bow before he spun around on his heels and walked away. He dodged his way past sailors, fishermen and port workers just stopping to check the notes hanging on a large board by a warehouse wall. Nothing of interest was posted, just boring stuff and things that just was not going to happen. After deciding that there was nothing of interest he walked onwards away from the harbor district and into the center of the city, he did not have to worry about work immediately as he had just earned a nice sum of money from a captain that had paid handsomely for someone with firsthand experience with the Windy Strait. Either way the board was not where the most interesting jobs where advertised, the main problem in Wayfarer's Point was finding something that was not piracy. But that was all worries for another day, today he was going to find himself a nice looking inn where he was going to spend most of the day with not a concern in the world while he spend some of the gold he had earned.

    Bukiya Inn, evening

    He entered Bukiya Inn and weapons shop at the evening and stopped to take a look around the room and the people gathered here. This looked like a good place to spend a day with not a concern in the world while he spent some of the gold he had earned. Too bad he had not come here to begin with; it even came with a weapons shop, how convenient. He walked into the room with steady steps; he had been drinking a fair bit but had sobered up by now, more or less. Once he reached the front desk he put on a smile and addressed the woman standing there.

    “Good evening, young lady. As I understand it this fine establishment deals in weapons among other things like food. I find myself in dire need of a weapon of some sort, preferably a rapier. My previous one was lost to me when I valiantly impaled the ocean floor with it. Something about wee long” he brought his hands up to demonstrate the length “And it must make those funny swich swich sounds when you flail it about.” he put a hand into a pocked and brought out a fistful of coins “Costing around this much. Oh and it must have a good balance as well, balance is key, or so this guy told me once. ”

  28. - Top - End - #28
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    17th day of Amber's Fall
    08:00; Bukiya Inn
    Vasae and Myst



    Vasae glances at the trinkets and over all set up of the store, his eyes lingering on the tapestry for a moment longer than the rest though the talking perks his ears instantly as he glances at the serving woman as she gives him a curious look. “Mmm...what would you order?” he asks in a soft voice, looking down at the woman’s hand though remains silent on it. “I am well boarded and I have little interest in weapons I’m afraid. I wouldn’t wish you to trouble this Non for a mere breakfast guest.” He offers a faint smile as he removes his scarf, motioning to the tapestry. “Where did you get that?”
    Last edited by Tebryn; 2012-06-15 at 08:26 PM.

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    21st of Amber's Fall, Castle Greycourt, Before Daybreak

    "The man whose library is currently closed because of the smell is lecturing me on proper book care?" The hunter leans back in her chair. "If you must know, the first thing I learned in treasure hunting school was 'Hey Rayle, hold my rum and watch this.'" Actually, all of Elaine's lessons had started like that. Good times.

    When the translation is done. Rayle takes the original and the copy, yawning herself as she gets back up. "I'm sure you can. Thanks for seeing us so late, Lucien."
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    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    [b][/SPOILER]
    21st day of Amber's Fall
    Morning; Bukiya Inn
    (Renato Benso - LongVin)


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    Entering into the inn, there is the smell of maple wood. It is sweet, which is a surprise to consider most place by the harbor don't smell like this. For Renato, it would be noticed because Maple certainly doesn't grow on such an island.

    The room is decorated with some different artifacts. A native wooden statue of an owl is in the corner on a shelf, and a tapestry of a war from sometime is above the fireplace. It must have been a civil war of some city of wizards with four towers. There is a worn and polite carpet to welcome guests too. The maple must be from the statue probably. There are decorated flowers in some places around the room.

    A small copper bell rings when the door opens, and it can be seen in the inn that there aren't many people right now. A couple of older fishermen eating breakfast and telling a story about big fish together. They look annoyed and darkly at Renato and his men with his loud entrance, but they mutter quietly to each other. The young woman who is cleaning the bar has long black hair and a green bow to tie this ponytail. She is also wearing the blue and green colored apron and uniform. She takes the coin pleasantly.
    "Welcome to Bukiya Inn and Shop!" She says. "Certainly, my lord." She disappeared for a minute, then returned with a bottle of red wine. It looked like a good type, probably it was from Tirac. And to come this far, it must have come through port Skelart sometime.

    Non poured the wine politely.
    "Is there anything else I can do for you?" She pauses, looking at the swords. "Ah!" A delightful smile becomes her face. "Are you gentlemen from Latium? You have beautiful swords."
    Odd. The decorations in the place seem to be taken from random sources and had no sense of unity. Native statutes mixed in with what appeared to be old world artwork. No doubt "salvaged" from some poor and unfortunate "shipwreck."

    "Thank you" says Renato. It's unclear whether he was thanking the young lady for bringing him the wine, for complimenting the swords or both.

    Bringing the cup to his nose, he takes a sniff before lightly spinning the glass to circulate the wine. He then takes a tenative sip. It was actually reasonably good. Quite odd. He had expected much worse in this place yet it had passed muster.

    "And, yes. We are from Latium. We just arrived this morning," he pauses momentarily to take another sip of the red liquid before continuing "actually, I do have need of information. I am searching for someone or someplace that I could acquire cannons from in this port. Would you know of anyone?"
    Quote Originally Posted by Sayn
    You know, I'm beginning to realize that when I chose to go from being a player to being the GM, I essentially went from being a mere leader of some nation to being God. And it feels good.
    Quote Originally Posted by Jade_Tarem View Post
    It's been said that a good backstory is like a skirt - it should be long enough to cover everything that needs to be covered, but short enough that it can keep someone's interest. This... is basically the train of a wedding dress.

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