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Post by Maerin on Dec 1, 2010 2:44:47 GMT
THE STORY SO FAR…
The summer of MS 5062 was a summer of hope. Invasions by the forces of Evil during MS 5060 and MS 5061 had been defeated and turned back on multiple fronts. Even the fire-swift invasion of the Darklord’s own horde, hundreds of thousands of spawn and Drakkarim, had been stopped. Most of the prominent leaders of these invasions were slain as their armies were defeated: Baron Shinzar of the Hammerlands, Warlord Zegron of Ogia and, most important of all, Zakhan Kimah of Vassagonia.
Early autumn saw many nations of central Magnamund free of those who had invaded. Eru, Talestria, Lyris, Salony, Slovia, Casiorn, Cloesia and Anari all were free in the aftermath of Evil’s defeat and rout. Indeed, some Freelander armies took the opportunity to counter-invade their Drakkarim neighbors. First Ogia, then large portions of Skaror, fell before the combined armies of Talestria, Palmyrion and Bor. Others, satisfied with having driven out their invaders, turned to fortifying their frontiers and rebuilding that which had been destroyed. Temporary alliances between nations forged to oppose the invasions faded with the defeats of those invasions. It was, of course, very true that a few of the invaded nations were still partially or completely occupied: Eldenora, Delden, Magador and Sommerlund. But the Freelands foresaw the ends of those occupations by the end of the year.
There were, however, small, mostly-isolated notes of disquiet as the summer came to a close.
For the second time in a small handful of years, a Zakhan of Vassagonia had died suddenly, leaving no heirs. Insurrection flared throughout the Empire, as claimants to the throne began fighting with their rivals. Vassagonian neighbors, at first believing they had been granted a rare period of respite from Vassagonian aggression by the goddess Ishir herself, were disturbed to hear rumors of the rise of a group calling themselves the ‘Sons of Kimah’ in Barrakesh.
A magical explosion destroyed a significant portion of the Talestrian Royal Citadel of Garthan in late summer. Queen Evaine, citing evidence the destruction had been the act of one of the Elder Magi of Dessi, declared open hostilities between Talestria and Dessi. This declaration brought bewilderment and disbelief to the courts and halls of state of all the nations along the Tentarias. Many of them enjoyed friendly relations with both Talestria and Dessi, and could not believe that Dessi could have perpetrated the attack that all learned had killed hundreds in Garthan. However, when explanation of the Talestrian accusations was requested from the High Council in Elzian, the Elder Magi admitted that the destruction had indeed been caused by one of their number. By mid-autumn, Dessi, one of the few Freeland nations maintaining envoys and active diplomacy in most other nations of Northern and Southern Magnamund, saw those envoys expelled, some politely, some not, as a consequence of the Garthan destruction. Most advised the High Council of Elzian that any further activities sponsored by the Elder Magi would be regarded acts of war, though only Palmyrion declared with her Talestrian ally against their new common foe.
Talestria and Palmyrion found their ability to commence hostilities against Dessi suddenly curtailed however, as both nations discovered insurrection within their own borders. A rebellion had started in the north of both realms, declaring common cause throughout the area of revolution and a common rejection of the authority of both Garthan and Vanamor. An address of the Hall of Electors in Vanamor by one representative of the revolutionaries lead to a blood-bath battle that killed dozens. The representative of the revolutionaries sent to Garthen was summarily beheaded by order of Queen Evaine for treason. With much of the army of both nations far away invading the Drakkarim realm of Skaror, and a significant portion of the remaining army of both nations allied with the rebels, Vanamor and Garthan found themselves in difficult situations. As these notes of disquiet and discontent began to grow, the summer of hope and victory withered with the turning of the leaves.
On the same day in late autumn, every court and governing hall in each of the Freelands received an emissary: sent by Archlord Gnaag of Helgedad. The message each emissary brought was the same.
The Sommerlending Kai Lord Lone Wolf had been destroyed in Torgar. The armies of Talestria and Palmyrion, even as they invaded the city of Torgar, had been defeated and destroyed. The army of Bor, before the city of Cragmantle, had been destroyed. The emissaries cast grisly trophies proving their message before the feet of the leaders of the Freelands. Queen Evaine of Talestria gazed in horror on the savaged half-skull of Lord Adamas. The Darklords were invincible, and very soon would demonstrate that horror upon all who stood in their way. Gnaag declared to each nation that complete surrender was their only option to the might he would soon unleash.
Few of those emissaries survived delivering their messages, but the damage had been done. Though efforts were enacted in many lands to try and keep the message from the Darklord’s a secret, the rumors of it spread anyway. Many guessed that the message had been given to more than just the heads of state, that Darklord agents in the Freelands had released both message and rumor to the general populace. However it had happened, however, the damage had been done.
Soon word and rumor spread and grew. There were claims that the attack had already begun. That the Darklord hordes had already again bridged the River Storn to attack the Stornlands. Nothing could be proven. The rumors spread far faster than any accurate intelligence. As uncertainty grew, so did worry. Hopelessness began to take root.
***
In happier days, a prominent trade festival was traditionally held each year in the Tentarias port city of Talon. This festival, Winter’s Night, was hosted by the Magnalord of Bauter in his capitol city, and drew all merchants and traders who could and would travel there in spite of winter storms at sea or cold weather by land. There, winter wares could be traded. It was traditional to bring those whom the Herbwardens might be able to heal or help as well, a sort of pilgrimage.
In the face of growing gloom, Magnalord Fennic of Talon sent strongly encouraging invitations to all Freelands friendly to him, inviting all who would to travel to his city and enjoy Winter’s Night. In a year that saw such bright hopes wane and go out, the Herbwarden’s of Bautar offered to do their part to light the cold winter’s night for any who could come to them.
Each of you, for your own reasons, have traveled to Talon for Winter’s Night.
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Post by Maerin on Mar 8, 2011 5:34:13 GMT
Icy cold rain drenched the streets of Talon. Water streamed off all sides of the low, tile-roofed buildings. Rivers of water rising a foot or more poured down sloping streets towards the small harbour. The water in the streets ran mostly clear. The streets had long since been washed clear of mud and animal waste.
Some attempt had been made to decorate the buildings with the traditional green boughs of Winter’s Night. The few that had resisted being washed away hung limp and thick from their nails.
Few saw those hardy survivors of the upcoming holiday celebration. Few willingly ventured into the streets. Occasional, a wagon or team of pack horses would splash and slosh through the water. Horses and oxen puffed and blew from the heavy exertion and the rain water that filled nostrils with every breath. A few people, heavily covered in largely vain attempts to escape a thorough soaking, walked as fast as possible along the street. These kept as close to the building walls as they could, keeping a hand out to steady balance. The current in the street center was more than sufficient to wash the unwary off their feet.
It had been nearly two months since the near-black clouds closed over Talon and the heavy rains began. Bautar, a small nation filled with lowland jungles and rain-swept, forested uplands, was no stranger to rainy weather. Rain storms along the eastern Tentarias were common. However, even the eldest Bautarine men in the city soon agreed this was the longest, heaviest rain storm that any of them remembered.
Defying the weather, however, hundreds had responded to the invitation of the Magnalord of Bautar and arrived in Talon. Sheltering guests and residents alike from the endless rain, the taverns and inns experienced as brisk a business as ever they had. People forced to remain indoors spent their gold and silver coin upon food and drink. Though the Magnalord levied laws fixing costs charged for food, drink and board, nevertheless money pouches remained in the city’s inns and taverns day and night. The keepers of those establishments were soon counting it their best Winter’s Night ever.
Merchants who had come to Talon for winter season trade initially despaired. The traditional market squares, erected at intersections of major streets for the festival, were impossible this year. Proclamations from the Magnalord were swiftly released, indicating a solution was being devised and would be provided for all. In the meantime, those merchants who wished were permitted to apply for relief from the coffers of the Magnalord. Though Bautar was not as notorious as other nations, few were very enthusiastic about accepting money from the nation’s rulers…however “free” that money might seem to be offered.
About the same time, however, some innovative merchants had struck upon an alternative suiting them better. Their idea soon spread throughout the city. Striking partnership deals with the inn and tavern keepers, most of whom had large common rooms, the merchants opened small trade stalls in those large rooms. In return, the innkeepers could lower the prices of their rooms well below the limit set by the Magnalord. Those normally consigned to sleep in the common room could afford private, though cramped, rooms shared with two or three others. As Winter’s Night, despite its fame and popularity, did not actually attract enough visitors to Talon to truly pack the inns, the arrangement worked very well for all concerned.
The citizens of Talon, appreciating the continuing of their tradition in spite of the unexpectedly bad weather, supported these new “mini-markets”. Musicians, normally a street fixture, instead gravitated to play at various inns and taverns. Those who plied trades of a more transitory nature did likewise. Garbage and waste could be easily disposed of. The flow of water down Talon’s street swiftly carried anything tossed out a building window way into the harbour. Shortly after the “mini-markets became common throughout the city, decorations typically put up in windows and nailed to building exteriors where they could be seen by those in the actual streets instead now filled the building interiors.
There were a few problems. Large numbers of humanity crowding each common room, however large it might be, created a chaotic collection of smells and noises. Though a few Vassagonian merchants observed it to be far, far better than the markets of Barrakesh, complaints arose nightly in every establishment. One innkeeper, losing his temper in the face of multiple complaints, finally ordered his staff to throw open every common room window. The deluge of cold rain promptly sweeping into the room drowned out the complaints. Theft proved a problem, though a thief’s ability to escape afterwards was limited by the difficulty of leaving the building unnoticed. The presence of watchman in every inn and tavern was enough to keep more traditional crimes and nuisances under control.
One young street urchin, now begging in the aisles between merchant stands in the common room, was overheard commenting to another about the new “streets” being great.
By a fortnight before official evening of Winter’s Night, it seemed to all that the traditional, and much valued holiday, would be as prosperous and happy as it had ever been. The black gloom of events in the outside world seemed washed away by the rains, falling out of a gloomy sky.
OOC: This sets the general scene of the city, as well as the timeframe of events from two months prior to the present (two weeks before Winter’s Night). Your first posts (which will span most of the posting this week, I expect) should deal with how each of you has arrived and settled into the city.
Aside from Ilia and Jynx, none of you know each other from the past. However, if you want to work together on an initial meeting and friendship, I strongly encourage you to do so. :-)
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Post by Castiel on Mar 8, 2011 6:39:49 GMT
Castiel looked out his rooms window and shuttered at the thought of going back outside. He had traveled to Talon under the icy rain with his close friend Aetos Galanis and did not want to venture back outside. As much as he valued and appreciated his friends generosity in financing his trip to the Winters Night festival, Castiel hoped to socialize with others. He excused himself from Aeotos' company and proceeded down to the common room.
From the stairs Castiel looked over the crowd of people and spotted a table in the far corner of the bar area open. Advancing quickly to take that spot he found himself at a table in the corner with a few spots to spare. Taking out his pipe and pipe weed he sat and lit his pipe.
Castiel looked over the crowd with his deep brown eyes and gave a puff from his pipe. The smoke traced up his olive tan clean shaven face and through his jet black hair leaving no question that he was of Vassa origin. Looking out the nearest window and exposing a profile of his face it could be seen clearly that Castiel was within his late twenty's had had enough money to take care of himself. Castiel called to the barmaid to bring him a glass of wine and put it on Aetos' room tab.
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Giving a head nod to the traveler and responding in his native language "Please sit, I have been hoping to find a few cheerful souls to converse with tonight. I hope your travels were pleasant disregarding the weather." He extended his hand "My name is Castiel, how have you found the festival so far?"
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Castiel stood up and introduces himself to the Dwarf "Come and sit. Tonight is the opportunity to make friends, my name is Castiel. I have not come across many of the Dwarven people who spoke Vassa. How did you happen to learn the language?"
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Welcoming the other newcomers to the table, Castiel found a place for each person and kept up the introduction of himself. Looking around the table he beamed at all the conversation "Well it seems like it is easy to find people within this tavern." Looking over at Rolph, Castiel gestured to the table "Lay out your wares and let us take a look."
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Post by Eruhs Ohf Leitus on Mar 8, 2011 11:05:14 GMT
Eruhs trudged through the water filled streets, heading towards a tavern that had been recommended to him by the stable-master where he had left his mule, Heckler. Looking forward to a warm bed, and a break from his constant travels, Eruhs followed the directions he was given until arriving at his destination. Eruhs began compressing his drenched cloak between his hands in a futile effort to wring it dry.
Once Eruhs was fed up with the noncompliant cloth, he allowed it to drop back down to ankle length before stepping through the doorway to the Tavern. When the door was open, the loud and chaotic array of sounds hit him like a wall. His eyes and hearing quickly adjusted out of necessity, as he navigated around hordes of other travelers and wandering merchants. Eruhs smiled and greeted people who took notice of him, always attempting to extend a friendly hand, along with a welcoming demeanor.
Eruhs wore his pack slung across his shoulder in a way that would allow it to hang at his chest. Having been in densely-populated cities before, Eruhs made sure to keep his belongings in sight.
Shortly after Eruhs procured lodgings for the evening, he went and left the bulk of his possessions secured behind the locked door to his room. Eruhs donned his plated-armor, minus the helmet, before leaving; as it was not wet like his clothing, Eruhs finds it pleasantly-comfortable and its weight, despite its size, is remarkably light. He also took with him his maul, hanging from his shoulder by a leather tassel affixed to the pommel, to ward off pickpockets and to dissuade anyone from causing trouble, as well as some writing utensils.
Heading back into the common room area, Eruhs sought a place to write, and possibly order a drink and a small meal. Upon surveying the common room, Eruhs saw what he believed to be a lone traveler from Vassagonia with a few empty seats at his table. Eruhs wandered over in an attempt to speak and sit with the man.
“Hello, young sir.” Eruhs spoke in Vassa, giving a friendly bow. “Do you mind if I have a seat at your table while I write?” Eruhs smiled, eagerly anticipating conversation. Eruhs thought to himself about all the studying and reading he had done in regards to Vassagonia culture and language, and he was very excited to finally meet someone from the country. Perhaps, this would give him further insight and understanding into their ways. Eruhs stood, awaiting a response from the man.
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Post by Altor "Al" Cloudscraper on Mar 8, 2011 20:54:53 GMT
The only good thing that this rain brought, thought Altor, was that is washed away the stench of humans from his nostrils. He had never noticed this before, but he had never been to one of their cities before his current journey. While the visitors he would occasionally see in Boradon did have a slightly unique aroma, it was never as strong as it was in some of the towns he had been in of late. And here, in a largish city, he was afraid it would be over powering. Indeed, he was almost tempted to sleep in the stable with his mountain pony, but he had a niggling feeling that was not what he was meant to do. So instead he asked the stable master if there were any good inns nearby, and followed his directions to it.
Altor did not know why he was being directed to this human town only that his dreams clearly told him that this was where his destiny would unfold. As he headed to the inn, he looked at the buildings around him and thought what strange creatures humans were, so transient; indeed one of the buildings looked like they would not last another century! He shook his head in wonder. Why do something so poorly if you are going to do it? These creatures obviously had no sense of place, no respect for the past and how everything we do is not only a monument to our ancestors, but a gift to the future. Arriving at the inn, Altor hesitated before entering. While the rain was definitely uncomfortable, no doubt the inside of the inn would be more so. Steeling himself, he entered.
Altor was almost staggered by the assault on his senses. The stench of humans was almost overpowering, and mixed with the wet, he almost turned around to head back to the stables, to sleep with the animals. At least they did not smell like wet human. What made this worse, though, was the noise and clutter. While the hearth of an inn in Boradon would be loud and boisterous, this was more of a scene of chaos than boisterousness. Indeed, to his conservative mind, the scene before him was something he would expect in a bandit hideout, not in what was supposed to be one of the more civilized human cities.
Keeping an eye out for trouble, as this place seemed full of it, he scanned the room looking for a place to sit, gather his thoughts, and eat a meal. Perhaps he would even try a pint of the flavoured water that humans, without cracking a smile, called ‘ale.’ Looking around, he saw a table with a few seats open.
Approaching, he thought he heard them speaking Vassa, one of the human tongues he studies before undertaking his journey. “Excuse me” he says with a thick Boradon accent “do these seats be taken?”
He tried his best to give a warm smile to the two humans.
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Post by Lorenic on Mar 8, 2011 22:27:17 GMT
Over a year and a half has passed since leaving the mercenary company Lorenic called home for 11 some years. Finding the direction of the company to be abysmal, and yearning to show them all how its done, Lorenic retired. But starting a mercenary company was not small feat, especially when it comes to the wallet. Knowing this, Lorenic entered the trade, to generate the revenue needed to start his own company. To show what the scum and filth of most merc companies that mercs can be proud, honorable fighters.
A year and a half apprenticing for a large, ex merc was no easy task. Finding others to do business when children run and dogs always bark in your presence is, annoying to say the least. But learned Lorenic became. He chose trade in spices, for he did not revel in killing, and trading weapons is heavy work and he never really needed anything but his pole-arm. But he loved cooking. And knowing how to turn rode side vulture carcass into an exquisite meal for some 30 odd mercs is an art in itself. And ending his short apprenticeship, he heard of Magnalord Fennic of Talon's huge winter's night gathering, and decided to start his trade there. Spending everything he had saved up for as a merc to aqiure some exotic spices to do trade, he set out for Talon.
The creators be praised for giving me this cloak, and be damned for creating such abysmal weather conditions for my first trading thought Lorenic as he trudged around semi submerged Talon. Aside from his soaked feet, the rain merely bent around him. Thanks to his cloak, reflecting black as the coulds, such travel between inn's was fairly easy. But arriving late compared to the other merchants, made finding a trading place less so. Especially considering all trade was done inside. The first three days were spent just trying to find an open spot, once accomplished, he set up his pack mule in the stables, then set up shop for the day.
Around late day Lorenic noticed a corner had opened up with what appeared to be a Vassa smoking some pipe weed, a scholar, and to slight surprise a Boradonian. Haven't had the chance to relax yet today, and fearing a chance to sit will soon vanish. Lorenic packed up the spices and strolled over.
Trying to seem smaller than he was, he approached, at first directing his gaze to the Vassa, then to the others. In Vassa, "Got any room for a tired merchant who wishes to partake in some pipe and ale?"
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Post by Rolph on Mar 9, 2011 2:06:20 GMT
It had been rough sailing for Rolph this past year, but that hadn't meant it wasn't profitable. There were many opportunities even in harsh times to make some coin - especially in harsh times. He had turned a healthy profit with shipments of construction supplies for Talestria and arms for Palmyrion. Now he brought a cargo of luxury goods to the one place where he knew he could sell them: the Winter's Night festival in Talon. After that, he planned to purchase a shipload of healing supplies which would be in high demand where the fighting was hardest further west.
Rolph would have gone to Winter's Night regardless; he did so every year. The weather was terrible, but he would not be daunted by it. He would not have missed Winter's Night if he had anything to say about it, and so he had ridden the storm, his skill as a sailor and his able crew seeing the Crusader safely through to the harbor.
When Rolph had heard of the partnership arrangements between the merchants and the local taverns, he had quickly joined one and set up shop in the common room of one of the inns. In his stall he sold cloth goods and dyes from Caron. His men were glad to have shore leave, even if they had to stay indoors as much as possible. A mug of ale, piping hot bread, and pretty women were always welcome to sailors who had been at sea for a while. Some of his men were helping out at the stall and doubling as security. It wasn't that Rolph didn't trust the town watchmen; he did so implicitly. However, his own crew was more motivated to protect the valuable cargo he was selling, as they had a personal stake in the ship's fortunes. They also only had the one stall to worry about, whereas the watch had to be concerned with all of them.
It was with interest that Rolph listened to a nearby conversation that some travelers were conducting in Vassa, one of the languages he had picked up in his travels. Only one of the men actually appeared to be Vassagonian, and one of the others was, interestingly enough, a Dwarf.
"Would any of you gentlemen care to peruse my fine wares?" he asked the group in Vassa during a lull in the discussion.
GM OOC: GM override on your "merchandise inventory", as noted in my GM OOC Board.
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Post by Ilia Underwing on Mar 9, 2011 5:38:09 GMT
Ilia sat by her table filled with healing powders and potions, looking out at the crowd that had continued to fill the inn that she had occupied for a few days. She had looked at many ailing people, treating and healing as she saw fit. The twins sat on her shoulders close to her head and neck, peeking out from behind her hair to peer at the people she ministered to. Sage perched above her on a set of antlers mounted on the wall. Rogue did not like it inside the stuffy, smelly inn and so stayed in near Lady Jynx’s carriage. The Lady Jynx, who she had not left since the Danarg Swamp, wove in and out among the people, chatting and flirting as she was want to do. Ilia noticed a table near her fill up with an odd assortment of folks. When Jynx came back around to her table, she pointed them out, somberly reminded of the friends that she had lost.
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Post by Maerin on Mar 9, 2011 6:52:00 GMT
Gathered, the conversation between strangers began.
GM OOC: I am just letting each of you settle into your characters, roleplaying among yourselves. Please continue. Some of you are new to play-by-post format games, and so I wish you to practice some of the necessary writing and storycrafting skills.
Remember that people often only check the game site once or twice daily. So practice keeping conversation equitable. That said, line-by-line, one-sentence posts drag conversation interaction too long. So practice striking a balance between not getting ahead of your fellow players while still making each day's post as meaningful as possible.
Please note: I do not do GM overrides of sections of posts often. Generally, I only do this when a player seriously oversteps to the point where it hamstrings the overall game. This doesn't happen often, and isn't always that player being "at fault". Most often, I have to reconcile all the various posts back into the same "time frame", and use a GM override to do that.
Remember, all posts happen at the same time. Players who post later are not permitted to take advantage of players posting earlier.
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Post by Jynx on Mar 9, 2011 9:45:41 GMT
Dressed in a simple gown of deep blue and wrapped in a woven shawl of purple striped with red, Jynx pulled back a strand of her dark hair, which was set tastefully back into a loose sensual braid lined with peacock feathers.
She was surrounded by a group of young rich merchant sons, five of them to be exact, who were competing with each other for her attention as she stood comfortably against a wall at her back and Ilia’s stand in sight. She smiled and made pleasantries with them; mostly concerning the horrible weather outside, the merchant festivities inside and the coming of Winter’s Night.
Her handmaid Jayda stood off to the side, quietly watching her mistress through the corner of her eye and waited until she was needed.
Jynx let them talk on about where they were from and so forth before saying, “Sorry gentleman, I regret to say that I must leave your pleasurable company for now.” She gave them a small but warm smile, “However, if you wish to see me again, then you might check around my companion Ilia Underwing’s Herb stand when it is open or leave a note for me there so that I can make other plans with you.” Her almond eyes swept over the men before she, and Jayda, bid them a good bye, gave the correct curtsy for their status, and walked back to Ilia’s stand.
After Ilia pointed out the odd collection of people gathering at the table not too far from her stand, Jynx felt her curiosity perk up a bit. “Interesting.” She said with a grin. For now, Jynx found herself covertly observing the group across the room through the crowd as they converse with each other.
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Post by Eruhs Ohf Leitus on Mar 9, 2011 11:27:29 GMT
Eruhs gleefully shakes the hand of Castiel for a brief second before taking a seat, continuing in Vassa. “I’ve only just arrived, so I haven’t seen much as of yet. To be honest, it’s not so much the shops that have brought me here, but the prospect of meeting travelers from foreign countries.”
“Oi, barmaid!” Eruhs called out in Eastern Vaderish, raising his voice and hand above the crowd, snapping to gain her attention. When she arrived after passing through the crowded room, Eruhs spoke to her, though his boisterous tone hadn’t changed much to reflect her change in proximity. “Flagon of stout ale, if you’d please. Strongest you have.” Eruhs nodded the already overwhelmed barmaid off, turning his attention back to Castiel.
“Sorry about that, kid.” Eruhs carried on in Vassa once more. “I haven't had a decent drink in a while, and I’ve been going through my own supply at a quick pace while on the arduous trek here. I find it helps relax me while I am creating.” Eruhs explained with a nonchalant pleasantness as he laid out some parchment along with an inkwell and a quill. “Don’t be thrown off by my initial presence. My name is Eruhs.” He gave Castiel a salute, coupled with an almost exaggerated smile that better suited a playful child. “I’m a writer.” He almost seemed to boast.
Clearing his throat, Eruhs began speaking again. “I thought that while I was here, I’d manage to find some interesting individuals to document. Apart from writing, I actively study cultures and societies in relation to countries that lie north of the Tentarius River. Vassagonia being among one of the countries I have taken an interest in.” Eruhs smiled and cleared his throat, readying his quill. “I've met few Vassagonians in my travels, and those encounters have aided me in refining my grasp on the language and common mannerisms. So, tell me, what is it that a traveler from Vassagonia is expecting to find at Winter’s Night?”
As Eruhs was readying for an answer from Castiel, he noticed something even more intriguing. A Dwarf approached and asked to have a seat at their table. Eruhs immediately switched to an energetic interjection in Borese, in an attempt to please and impress the Dwarf. “You can sit here, next to me! I have been wanting to meet a Dwarf for some time! I am Eruhs, learned-writer and master-drinker.” Eruhs exclaimed with pride. “My apologies if you’re from Boden. I haven’t studied much of the language or culture, but I plan on doing so at some point.” Eruhs grinned, kicking a chair out from the table so that the Dwarf can seat himself.
As Eruhs was addressing the Dwarf, two merchants approached and asked to be seated, one of them offering his wares. Eruhs gave them simple greetings as his attention was primarily diverted to the newcomer Dwarf. “What’s your name? Would you like a drink? I ordered a flagon of the tavern’s strongest ale. I hope that’s suitable to your likeness. Have you ever had Human-brewed ale? What do you think of Talon, thus far?” Eruhs rambled on in a giddy fashion, enigmatically enthralled by the presence of the Dwarf. He was simply excited to have a chance to speak in Borese, with a Dwarf no less; the first he had ever come across.
Eruhs stopped himself from carrying on too much, slowing the pace of his curious tongue. He pressed his inked-quill to the parchment, eagerly awaiting a response from his newly acquired Dwarven acquaintance, so that he may write down his answers.
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Post by Altor "Al" Cloudscraper on Mar 9, 2011 22:54:54 GMT
Altor is genuinely surprised that the human knows Boresse, and none too pleased by it. Answering in Vassa, he simply says “thank you, but I would prefer tae talk in Vassa, it appears tae be something we all have in common.”
“Aye, I speak Vassa… it be a common language, does it not? I learned it so I could talk tae humans in these parts. Seemed tae make sense if I was gonna be about all of ye.”
Altor was a bit taken back with the quick barrage of questions, and for a second simply stared at the man asking them. Humans talked a lot, it seemed. Usually about nothing in particular or of note, but this was an eclectic bunch, Altor thought it worth his while to sit back and listen to what they had to say. He was interested in the traders, they travel around, and he may find some useful information about them… he may even find out why he was here. But he doubted it. The ancestors usually did not work in as straightforward a manner as that.
“My name be Altor, fae Boradon” replies Altor, not wanting to give too much information, but at the same time not wanting to appear standoffish. “Aye, I have had human brewed… ale” he responds, placing just enough emphasis on the word ale to let the humans know his disdain for it. “If this place have nothing Dwarf made, I would enjoy a pint o’ that.”
“What brings you lot here?” he asks, turning the questioning around to the humans.
When the waitress arrives, Altor asks her for some of what they have to eat, some ale, and lodging for the evening.
“What de ye have tae offer?” he asks the two merchants.
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Post by Rolph on Mar 10, 2011 1:56:07 GMT
Rolph smiled at the Vassagonian and the Dwarf when they showed an interest in his wares. His weathered Lencian features were probably unfamiliar to most of the people this far east. Though he was well into his forties, he was still in fine physical shape. His hair was the color of snow, though that was not from age - it had been thus since his youth.
"I have some goods that might tickle your fancy," said Rolph, indicating some of his best wares. "Fine cloth and dyes from Caron."
He nodded in response to Castiel. "I'd be delighted to meet your friend Aetos. I would not have known you were from Tahou had you not said. I hail from Lencia, quite a long way away. I sail the Tentarias, buying and selling goods."
GM OOC: GM override on your "merchandise inventory", as noted in my GM OOC Board. Fine cloth and dye from Caron is fine, but that's it. There is no Shadakine Empire at the time of this game. Needless to say, everyone in Talon is going to know that.
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Post by Ilia Underwing on Mar 10, 2011 3:32:44 GMT
Ilia watched the group converse, drawn to them by some strange force that she could not describe. A man walked up to her, startling her out of her fixative trance. She put her business face on, momentarily distracted by her work. Once the man had left with an herbal remedy that Ilia mixed for him, she closed her eyes to slits and rubbed her cheek against one twin, then the other, thinking of the past, and why she came back to this region.
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Post by Castiel on Mar 10, 2011 4:01:51 GMT
Castiel listen to Eruhs and his introduction and question while the others congregated. Responding to Eruhs while addressing the table “I am actually from the city of Tahou, nestled next to a mountain range bordering the Vassagonia region. I do share many physical similarities with the people from Vassagonia”.
Catching the Dwarf's question, Castiel continued on “After the battle in Tahou I stayed to make repairs to my home city. While in the midst of the repairs I had received a letter from my friend Aetos Galanis, asking me to travel with him from Firalond to Talon's Festival. It was nice to catch up with Aetos over the journy, but tonight I set aside for making new acquaintances.”
Hearing what the merchant had to offer Castiel nodded with delight “I am not the man with the money but your wares sound fascinating. I would like to introduce you to my traveling companion Aetos, he may be interested in what you have to offer. He is currently residing in the room, we can head up there in a quick bit”.
Gesturing to the whole table “I have told my short history, so where does the rest of you hail from?”
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