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Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: Welcome Jean Gusto
Early Afternoon 19th of Chad, 2005.
Jean swaggered about Freeport, looking down on the urchins and grotty ship workers he hated the town and the scum that lived here. Yet this was the hub of exploration, where questions weren't asked of the past, only of the future. Thinking about the boat that was about to moor up on the pontoon a strange feeling developed with in him, a surge of... knowing, he couldn't explain it. Reaching to the top pocket of his black pinstripe jacket he pulled out a periscope, he peered through the eye-hole, quickly he located the ship it was a practical ship he saw that, it was built for efficiency and speed, probably not for comfort. Searching for the name he looked at the back end of the hull, Smugglers Moon. That's the one. Dismissing it for the moment, he had reached his destination, Bishops Tailoring. It was time for a new suit.
The first thing Jean noticed, apart from the high pitched ring above his head as he walked through the door, was the difference in smell. It was far different from the stale sweat and stench of alcohol, it was the smell of sweet flowers and of perfume. Jean breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. A small man with a smock of brown hair and small spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be so involved in the parchment he was reading not to notice his latest customer. Jean cleared his throat loudly trying to attract his attention. The small man looked round sharply, his face registering a look of recognition.
“Jean, 'ow arr you? it 'as been to long.” The tall pale-skinned man exclaimed excitedly.
“Giles.” Jean acknowledged.
“What is it I can do for you?” Asked Giles.
“A drink Giles, and make it strong.” Demanded Jean.
“Of course. Feel free to browse my wares.” Giles said casually.
Giles rushed through a curtain and into a back room. Jean heard the pouring of liquids and murmured approvingly. He started to sift through the various clothing, there were pinstriped black suits, grey trousers with a perfect leg seam, Jean lost himself for a few minutes sifting through all his favourite comforts. This was not Kizmir, this was Freeport he had been here only a handful of times, and it was already beginning to grate on him. Bishops was a safe-haven however, a traditional Kizmirian tailor. He loved the smell, the touch and the service it was a little piece of home. Jean missed home.
Giles returned, drinks in hand. He pulled out a chair and beckoned to Jean to sit down. He returned just seconds later with a tray bearing cheese and bread.
“'ere ya are, ol' friend.” Giles said.
“Good as ever. Bit much with the mango though.”
“I assume you be 'ere to be clothed. Non?” Giles asked.
“You are correct, I want your lowliest clothes. I want them too look used, but under no circumstances are they to have been used.” Said Jean, stabbing his jewelled, curved knife into a slab of cheese set on the table. “If you understand my meaning.”
“Err, of course, of course.” His eyes fixated on the dagger. “Right away.”
* * *
Late Afternoon 19th of Chad, 2005
Jean walked out of the shop, back out to the smelly, grotty and unsightly streets of Freeport. The stench burnt his nostrils once more. Dressed in an assortment of garish colours, he had a loose fitting orange top tucked into a pair of bage trousers, there was a hint of pale skin between his trousers and the yellow shoes which hugged his feet. Resuming his arrogant swagger he strolled through the streets his curved sword swinging at his side with each step and his dagger fitted snugly in a right-hand side scabbard.
His destination was the docks, he was looking for Smugglers Moon. He strode through the docks judging each boats on practicality and speed, disapproving of most. He stopped at Smugglers Moon, his hand grasping his chin in thought. Although it wasn't a boat which stood out from any other, there was an awe about it, a certain something.
“I wish to speak to your captain, or whatever scum-bag runs this maggot infested vessel.” He called up to the sailors manning the deck.
“You be a brave man talking about cap'n Jerichos ship like that. A brave man indeed.” The sailors looked to each other chuckling.
“I didn't come here to swap niceties gentlemen. Now is he on board?” Demanded Jean.
“No, he be away at the minute.”
“What time is he back? I have something to discuss with him”
“He'll be aboard this evening. Who be asking?”
“Jean Gusto.”
With that Jean stormed away, he really did hate sailors. They were uncouth, ill-mannered and smelt like rot. Jean headed for a tavern, he needed a few stiff drinks, he knew what captains were like and this one was likely to be little different, arrogant and self assured. Jean hawked up and spat at a nearby urchin, causing him to scurry off. Jeans face was like a storm and his red eyes blazed, it didn't take much to irritate the tall man, and his itchy, ill fitting clothes did little to help.
Jean saw a tavern, The Rusty Hook, it looked a dim, rowdy place but there was sure to be drink and that's what he needed. Pushing past a burly half-orc who glared wickedly at him, he entered the taproom. The smell was far away from the tailors, it was filled of sweat, stale beer and pipe smoke and Jean started to find it hard to breathe. Pushing his way past the locals he searched for a table, he saw a free one and headed towards it nearly knocking over a service girl in his haste. They locked eyes, and noticing her apron he ordered his drink.
“Rum, half a bottle. At that table.” Jean said, pointing to the table. “and don't dawdle.”
Posted on 2011-09-15 at 16:34:14.
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Topic: The Scarred Continents: The Grail of Blades
Subject: Are we nearly there yet?
Thassal blushed vividly as he was tied into the saddle by Cassandra, his time spent studying was not looking so valuable now he was travelling. The weather was dry, but not warm and Thassal shivered often, the chill breeze of the night making sure of that. He was beginning to get used to life in the saddle and the horse felt a little safer, though occasionally he looked at the rushing ground below his mind dizzying. He had to concentrate though, he needed to summon in the dark, the tales of bandits on the road and other undead creatures roaming the countryside kept him alert.
Thassal wanted to test whether he could cast in darkness, he had managed in the dim candlelit room but that was avoid of distractions. Holding his arms out and waving in a peculiar action he cast Detect magic (depending on result) He felt the spell seep out of him his mind searching, he felt the spell being cast but no magic was present (presumably). Starting to feel more comfortable he trotted on catching up with Cassandra, and consequently started to complain of being uncomfortable, cold and tired.
Posted on 2011-09-13 at 11:44:04.
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Topic: Demon Wind
Subject: Flashbacks of a nightmare.
Seb awoke, a mist covering his eyes. Despite sleeping well his eyes had to readjust, he wasn't use to sleeping sober. Seb sat up from his bedroll, pulling the blanket aside, he stood up and stretched his limbs as he was accustomed. Once he was satisfied he was limber he shook his blanket and rolled up the bedroll, the chill of the morning biting through his garments. Seb looked down, his armour was where he had left it, and he began to don it, doing the straps up tightly, he was ready to go.
Seb started to walk to his steed, when he remembered the dream he almost fell backwards as if a wave of remembrance hit him. The dream had been different to others he had seen during his life, there was a certain... clarity about it. It had almost seemed as though he recognised phrases and words associated within the dream, 'Demon Wind' he had heard that before, but that was just the ramblings of a drunkard in the inn he had hastily left from the night of the winds occurrence.
Seb almost retched as he remembered the limbless man, by Rydor that was sickening. The man had talked as though they were nervous about a group of unnamed adventurers trying to thwart their plans. A seed of thought began to grow in his mind, that it was a premonition a warning of some kind. Was it this group they were so afraid of? Quickly though Seb dismissed the thought. Don't be so absurd Rydor shame me, he thought to himself.
The dream haunted him for the rest of the morning flashbacks of the limbless man, the evil looking robed figure and talks of death and shadows. This time a flashback hit him much more true than all the others.
Yes!” the limbless figure wailed again… squirming still as if in agony… “others have joined them…. They are stronger still …. They have banished the dread… and they draw nearer.”
“How is this possible?“ the robed and masked figure said shaking his head.. “the shadow dread should have been able to drain the life from all of them while they slept… how could they have detected it’s presence?”
The dread, surely not this must be some trickery of the mind, but it seemed so real. Seb sank to his knees closing his eyes and clasping his hands together he prayed to Rydor.
“Rydor direct me, for I do not know the nature of this nightmare. Tell me, show me a sign, am I on a path to righteousness, is it me who must stop this evil. Bless me Rydor, I am your servant.” Seb spoke aloud, his proud voice booming in the forest.
Seb sat waiting for for Rydors blessing and thinking once again of the dream which haunted him. He remembered a lighter voice then, a feminine one with gentle wisdom, it was as though she was directing them showing them their purpose. Was that Rydor showing him the path to righteousness? Seb sat on a log pondering this, waiting for the others to awake.
Posted on 2011-09-08 at 12:50:11.
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Topic: Flux Wars
Subject: Time for some improvisation.
Takra looked around, partly shocked at the power within her. She was searching for a weapon, a pile of rubble, a large rock, anything she could throw at the assassins in front of her. Then she saw it a rafter had fallen from the ceiling a few metres to the right hand side of the attackers, summoning her will she raised both of her hands, her palms outstretched. She flew her hands to her left and the Rafter shot at a man struggling to rise after the barrage of rocks just seconds ago. (body shot).
Takra staggered, her mind was numbing and her mental strength was being sapped quickly. Shaking her head she got herself back into the fight, knowing she would struggle with the potency of another spell, she slung the quarterstaff over her back and drew her sword, ready to test her skills.
Posted on 2011-09-08 at 12:19:49.
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Topic: The Scarred Continents: The Grail of Blades
Subject: A brief lesson on horses.
Thassal looked at the innkeeper approach and his expression turned to a worry. The innkeeper seemed like a nice man but thassals trust had yet to be earned, the innkeeper spoke to Cassandra telling her the horses were ready to leave. There were talks of troubled roads, bandits and ghouls, Thassal felt the cold touch of fear grasp the foot of his spine, a familiar feeling. The next thing to shock the nervous wizard was the talk of horses. He had never ridden before, despite being able to summon a mount, but how hard could it be. Finishing his drink he stood up from the chair he had been sat on and cast his eyes around the room, with nothing to fear he strode out of the tavern. Following Cassandra and admiring her wonderful figure and long blonde locks.
The horse was bigger than he imagined, he had rarely seen a horse other than the small window in the schools library. His jaw dropped and his mind was gripped with thoughts of a trampled death. The four legged creature was a brown colour and shoulder-height with Thassal, perhaps it would be more tricky than he thought. Gazing at the horse, Cassandras question was almost ignored, the fearful thoughts cruising around Thassals mind blocking it out.
"Alright Thassal two questions. One, can you ride? And two can you cast in darkness?" Cassandra said in a hardened voice.
"I-I've never ridden before is it hard? horses are so big!" Said Thassal nervously, his eyes shifting from Cassandra to the horse.
*Waits for answer
"Erm... I've never really tried, isn't this all a bit dangerous? Can't I just ride behind you on your horse?" Thassal asked nervously, his palms beginning to sweat.
*Waits for reply
Putting one foot in the stirrup, the saddle slid and Thassal ended up on the dirt floor looking into the night sky.
“Well, at least I am sure I can summon in the dark. I've been doing it long enough.” Said Thassal, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
Posted on 2011-09-06 at 14:07:16.
Edited on 2011-09-08 at 11:55:18 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: Flux Wars
Subject: Rising Storm
Takra heard the voices ahead and she presumed the worst. There talk was of charges, anger and urgency, this could mean but one thing... assassins. Anger swept through her, these people had no right to take the life of her friends and great leaders. The hot feeling of anger surged from her feet and was reaching the bottom of her stomach, now her eyes blazed and her hair flailed as if a wind gusted from in front of her.
She shook her staff in front of her causing a blue swirl to circle around the gnarled top of the brown staff. Takra used the powers she had learned to summon the elemental forces around her, this largely consisted of the rubble from the kings chamber. Throwing her arms wide, she pulled them behind her arcing her back. Suddenly she threw her arms forward and a rumble erupted from the corridor. Stones flew over the head of Crystal and Rege, narrowly missing them. The rocks heaped into the presumed assassins, a look of awe registering on their faces.
Posted on 2011-09-03 at 11:26:07.
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Topic: Smuggler's Moon Cast and Crew
Subject: Jean Gusto - the new Azhari swab
Jean Gusto was not your stereotypical deckhand he was taller than most, with a slight figure and feline hands. Most deck workers had hardened hands, the friction of the ropes and rough decks saw to that. Jean had styled hair, it had short sides with a long matted top to hold its shape, his face was that of a land which most have little knowledge of... Kizmir. His red eyes gave this heritage away, they changed with each emotion that spread across his face, they blazed when he was angry and became a dull colour when he was sad. He had travelled most of the world, freelancing on different vessels and on different oceans, he acted as an uneducated labour worker, reality was much different he was a well educated man who had studied at the greatest college in all of Kizmir. He was looking for something away from his studies, he wanted adventure, danger and most importantly an escape.
The land of Kizmir was a dangerous one, but being an Azhar was much more dangerous in the other kingdoms of the world. Jean sought refuge in Freeport, a society which accepted any culture. It was a cold winter when he escaped from Silverus, a town in Ivory Ports. He was imprisoned there by Prince Attis Galba, although Jean himself couldn't see any reason for the imprisonment the prince and his subjects clearly did. The charge he was deemed guilty of was spying, and to be fair they did have evidence. Jean put it down to personal curiosity, he snooped around the palace and the city streets eavesdropping on nobles. He picked up a lot of information and thought he could make a fortune telling his lord, the sultan of Kizmir.
His flight was untimely, but there was never going to be a more prosperous opportunity. He fled from the Princes dungeon, his emotions swirling, he chose the docks to be his best bet. He sprinted through the empty streets, the wind blew hard at his back, pushing him forwards and rain pelted down on the cobbles beside him. Within a few minutes he was drenched and was struggling to will himself to the docks shivering in the cold. A stray dog darted across an alley way and his head turned sharply to his left, his heart stopped and thoughts of the torture that would result in his capture flickered in his mind.
Finally Jean reached the top of a rise and took a deep breath, partially because of his exhaustion, but mainly because the ocean was in sight he was nearly there.
A lot of ships were docked, and Jean didn't recognise any of them. One ship however stood out, it was a traditional Kizmirian Ship. Jean looked through the pelting rain, jumping as a bolt of lightning cracked on a rooftop a few metres away, he saw the name... Rapier. A pretty name he thought, there were two guards, but they would be disposed of easily. A wry smile creased his lips, he hadn't had the thrill of danger in quite some time.
Jean crept stealthily, crouching almost to all fours, he drew himself up against the side of the hull, listening for the impending footsteps of the watchman. The deck creaked above his head and tapping sounds followed off to the left of him. Now was the time to go, quickly he jumped, his fingertips searching for the deck above. It was slippery but he held on, he shifted his hand until his wrists were on the deck. There he eased himself up, his muscles ached, he had tried to stay fit during the long dark weeks in the dungeon but a lack of nutrition had left him weakened. Nevertheless using sheer will he got onto the deck, he laid flat, listening and looking for the two watchmen. He heard voices and a sloshing of liquid, Jean couldn't believe his luck. They were drunk and clearly arguing.
“The storm is the result of the gods, they frown upon us!” The first man said in a hushed tone.
“Don't be stupid man, weather is weather. The gods don't care for it” The second man replied.
“Desecrate the gods at your own wish, Brice. But do not include me.” The mans face had registered shock at the blatant blasphemy.
“C'mon lets get back to our watch if Cap'n deHertsbergh catches us, we're dead men!”
It was time to move, Jean had got caught up in the two sailors conversation. Sliding across the deck on his front Jean squirmed towards what appeared to be the entrance to 'down below.' Peering down there was some steps, and apparently no voices apart from the snoring of the crew swinging in their hammocks. The smell was rancid and burnt his nostrils as he climbed down the ladder leading to the lower deck, he moved carefully and was not sure what to do next. He had to make a choice, confront the captain? Or act as a crew member? Both were flawed, but he had to choose. There was little option, surely every captain knew almost all the crew. Jean headed for the main cabin.
Jean fiddled with the lock, using the tools he used in the dungeon of Prince Attis. He heard the familiar click, took a moment to muster his courage and entered the room. “Captain de Hertsbergh, I need to talk. As a fellow Azhar I am sure you can understand-”
“Guards!” The captain barked.
“Now now, captain there is no need for that.” Said Jean calmly.
There eyes locked to the pistol resting on the desk opposite the bed. Quickly they both jumped, Jean had the benefit however he was standing, whereas the captain was laying down. Inevitably Jean got there first, and in one smooth action he grabbed the pistol and cocked the trigger, aiming between the eyes of the captain.
“I ask but one thing noble captain, I want to be the lowliest deckscrubber.” A plan was forming in Jeans mind. “I want to be treated no different than anybody else, I just ask for you to let me on your ship, feed me, cloth me and pay me. Now I know that your sorts are not trustworthy so I could always kill you and take captaincy of this ship. But I am no Captain.”
A stern look crossed Jeans face, trying to show no fear.
DeHertsbergh laughed, “You've got balls sonny, aye I'll give you that. Come aboard ya useless maggit.” The captain rose then, clapping a bemused Jean on his shoulders.
Jean hid out on the Rapier for the next few days, waiting for the storm to end. He traveled on the ship for the next few months, doing basic labour and menial tasks. He gained respect of crew members and the captain quickly after saving the ship three times. Once was through bad weather, Jean had seen the storm coming and advised the captain to change course, the captain had argued at first, the best catches of merchant ships lay west, but the advised course was the barren east toward Freeport.
Jean had ulterior motives though, he had to get to Freeport. It was the only place that would harbour him even his own kin, the Azhari, had rejected him.
He arrived at Freeport, sickened by the level of piracy all around him. Filthy men broke into fights spontaneously, drunkenly swinging at each other. He strode through the streets, and dirty women with seductive voices called to him from balconies. He craned his neck looking up, seeing there short skirts and dirty faces he spat with disgust. These people were utterly horrid, it was by far the worst place he had ever set foot in. He had to leave, he saw a boat drifting in to the harbour. This was his next vessel, maybe he would meet people of at least some calibre.
Played by: The_Haruspex
Posted on 2011-09-02 at 00:52:13.
Edited on 2011-09-08 at 14:36:37 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Flux Wars
Subject: Fleeee!
The explosion of the greenjade charges rang in Takras ears, the doorway which they entered the room was now a block of bodies and Takra was starting to panic as it appeared their was nowhere to go. Just as the panic began to register she saw Lantaris sprint off towards another exit, Takra followed with haste.
Taking one look back at the people stuck in the entrance doorway, her heartstrings plaucked like a sorrowful harp, it was happening again. She wanted to turn back, to save them, but once again she felt a pang of fear touch the bottom of her spine and she fled.
Going through the doorway it was claustrophobic and Takra left the bow slung over her right shoulder. Drawing her staff off her back she ran, with her hands grasped tight on the smooth wood. Takra watched Lantaris, he was swift, subtle and smooth as he ran, she was glad he was with them, though he was yet to show his combat effectiveness.
Posted on 2011-09-01 at 10:00:20.
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Topic: Demon Wind
Subject: Entertain me!
Seb took a gulp of his drink, each swallow tasting sour on his throat. He was starting to realise the inappropriateness of his actions. He finished the glass quickly and as he took his last gulp he was given a proposition. Seb pondered over this for a few minutes, not answering the cleric. Seb had never been under someone else's authority, he knew it would be hard to adjust, however it was the clearest way to Rydor's blessing.
“My gravest apologies are put forward to all of you. I have not acted respectfully or responsibly during the last few hours. On Rydors name I will change. If you would have me, I accept your proposal and am happy to travel with you.”
Hoping that his apology would be accepted, Seb stood and awaited a reply.
“I would like to dig the first grave. To make amends for my previous actions.”
* * *
As they set off Seb called his celestial steed , in a bid to buy some respect. However, no-one seemed to notice or care, about the summoning. With a sullen look spread across his features he mounted up and tried to get some more information, he was most curious of their mission.
He rode alongside each one of the adventurous' groups members, trying to pry information, it turned out it would've been easier to get blood from a stone. They were all as stalwart and stubborn as their leader... Danamar.
Seb was starting to get bored again and was looking for some mischievous fun. The problem he felt with the group was a lack of entertainment, they were very serious about the task in hand. Seb was used to having lots of jesters or friends to joke with, here... so far their were no laughs, he was stunned for every joke he told got a silent reception.
* * *
The camp was set up in a small clearing with the sight of the road. Watches were beginning to be set up and Seb offered for the last watch just before dawn. He prepared his bed underneath a leafy tree nearby, laying the bedroll on the floor and draping the grey wool blanket on top of it. Seb took off his heavy half-plate armour, laying it on the floor in another woollen blanket and wrapping it together into a bundle. He changed into a leather jerkin and black trousers to keep out the chill of night.
(OoC: Seb will stay up until everyone else has decided to go to bed, apart from the sentry.)
Posted on 2011-09-01 at 09:36:49.
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Topic: The Scarred Continents: The Grail of Blades
Subject: A long awkaward journey.
The travel had been tiresome and the information he received was minimal. Something of a Seekers Guild, what this was he wasn't totally sure. How they knew his name and his... ability, this he wasn't sure of either. It had been enjoyable, however the strain on his exceptionally weak body had been immense. His room in the tower was small and dingy, and his eyes hurt from the excess natural light. His room had seen Thassal do no physical exercise, apart from frantic scribblings and turning of pages.
The road had been rough and Thassals feet had begun to blister after the first day. Then he remembered his celestial steed spell, he had never before cast this and when he had done his face turned almost purple with embarrassment. He thought his summoning would impress Cassandra, instead she looked at him with pitiful eyes. The summoning itself went smoothly but instead of a fiery horse, he had conjured a small riding dog; suitable only for a young halfling. Cassandra had witnessed it all she turned to him and said “We do need someone with raw talent.” She laughed then, and Thassal let out a nervous chuckle. From then he decided not to try and summon the steed again, wanting to save further embarrassment.
* * *
The smells of the tavern wafted into Thassals nostrils, a mix of warm bread, stale sweat, and ale. Before now he had never set foot in a tavern, now he was here he very much disliked it. He sipped at the mead, noticeably cringing with its taste. The table was sticky and it took a lot of force to peel the palm of his hand from the surface. His small eyes shifted around the room wary of the taverns other... guests. His left hand was at his side, grasping the small pouch of gold that hung there. The other hand moved around awkwardly not sure where to rest.
“So what do you do for a living?” Asked the outstandingly beautiful woman opposite.
The question shocked him, this was because, before now there had only been talk of magical lore and the conjuration of creatures. Thassal shifted nervously in his seat, a gap of a few seconds followed.
“I-I am a student of arcane lore. Could I re-repeat the question to you?”
He wasn't sure what would happen next, for all he knew she could take offence. So once again a fearful look returned to Thassals strange features.
Posted on 2011-08-29 at 08:34:37.
Edited on 2011-08-29 at 08:36:51 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: Flux Wars
Subject: Another lesson in ettiquette
Takra took in a deep gasp of air, more audible than expected.
“I will not fool you by saying Crystal and I are long companions, but from what I have seen of her I would place my life on the fact that what she says is the truth.”
Perspiring now beads started to form on her brow, she had never talked in front of people before especially not such... Regal members of society.
“Also, if I may, it seems as though from what I have heard you are presented with little choice.”
Visibly relieved, Takra let out a long sigh. Her expression changed suddenly to worry.
“Oh, sorry. My lords!”
Posted on 2011-08-28 at 12:08:15.
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Topic: Demon Wind Q&A
Subject: The trap
Must of been the beer, sorry about the trap post i will try to edit it out!
Glad Sebs antics aren't being shunned to quickly.
Posted on 2011-08-27 at 16:13:20.
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Topic: Wanna get Shanghaied?
Subject: Ahoy.
I have just read part one and will finish the rest off tomorrow and I am utterly besotted with the idea. I have a few concepts in my mind.
If you'll have me, I will join by the weeks end.
Posted on 2011-08-26 at 16:27:45.
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Topic: Render Swiftblade: The beginning
Subject: Meet the parents
Another piece, this one is more about how Renders brief bonding with his parents and how it would've made him who he is today!
Trajore was a happy man, he had met the love of his life, and today was the day of entwining. Their souls would be together soon, it was a halfling ritual that had been passed down through the small mystical towns history. The town laid just outside of the Forest of Mir, and was shrouded with mystery to outsiders. The halflings here trained for war, and were warriors. Whether they be silent and sly to being raw muscle and wearing heavy armour, some were mounted others rode chariots.
The town was small but heavily fortified, this gave a microscopic feel to the place were the walls were far out of proportion with the residents. Despite its martial atmosphere, it was a hamlet based on community and individuals who were not born warriors were also valued. Some were merchants who travelled to Darromar, the nearest city; there they would sell exports, mainly weapons and other metallic goods. The merchants would also buy production goods: Scrap metal, coal, flint and tinder, and other vital necessities needed for crafting.
Most townsfolk would not see the outside of the bleak, but stout walls. Trajore however was of a different nature, he longed for adventure and to travel to faraway lands. He was achieving this goal steadily. He had travelled to Amn, trusted on his trading ability. When his team returned, the trip had been a success, they had signed four big treaties with metal companies in Amn. This was a record in itself, however it was somewhat overshadowed by the huge deal closed by Trajore himself. The contract signed by Eke's Axes, would mean that a large portion of exports would be sold with minimal efforts, he had even halved transport costs.
Trajore was good, very good. He had but one flaw, he wasn't happy. He didn't mind closing deals and helping the people he loved, but he wanted to break his barriers not live within them. He wanted risk and danger, he would get it...
* * *
It was a momentous day, the majority of the town were out to celebrate the special day. They lined the roads which Trajore walked. He sat astride his riding dog Sylveste, nodding at people he recognised from the crowd; there was Danuth, Lord of the metalsmith guild, his Large flat nose the most prominent feature on his face, his brown mop of hair flailed in the wind. He raised a hand to sweep his writhing hair back to a ponytail. Averting his gaze, he looked to the right hand side of the crowd, there he saw Jinyl, they used to be so mischievous and playful together, a smile creased his face as he thought about the past. Now they resented one another, in fact it was his wife to be that had separated them. Her beauty was talked about throughout the village, and Trajore was a truly lucky man. He turned the street corner and saw her; her hair was a chestnut colour and seemed to glisten in the summer sun and move as gently as a flower did in a gentle breeze. Their eyes met each other and Trajore was drawn in by her auburn eyes, as he was each time he looked into them. Her thin lips arced into the shape of a crescent moon, making Trajores stomach leap into a hive of butterflies.
The crowd turned into a blur as he got more and more lost in Bryndyls inviting auburn eyes. He was smitten and could not be happier that she was pregnant and a little bit of their love could be shared in the world.
* * *
The entwining process was over and it was time for the traditional speech of the new man.
“Girls and Boys, Ladies and Gentlemen. We came here today to watch the love of two halflings come together. However this is not the only news and excitement we have.” Trajores palms began to sweat, and he worried for how the words he was about to say would be received.
“I am now the proud owner of a home in Darromar, and I... wait we wish to grow up as a family there. I say as a family, this is because I am to be a father and Bryndyl to be a mother.” The room was quiet, and this made for an awkwardness that left little to be envied.
Suddenly a cheer went up, and a rasping applause echoed around the hall. Even Bryndyls father had a smile on his face. Truly Trajore was a respected gentlemen indeed.
Posted on 2011-08-25 at 17:39:48.
Edited on 2011-08-25 at 17:42:49 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: Render Swiftblade: The beginning
Subject: Cheers
Erm... yeah the punctuation needs work, and other posts will provide the bulk with which you are speaking. They may not be in chronological order though.
Posted on 2011-08-25 at 14:58:45.
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Topic: ~Edge of Darkness~ Q&A
Subject: Render Swiftblade
Hey, I posted a side story of Render on Personal creations feel free to take a look.
Posted on 2011-08-25 at 14:04:32.
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Topic: Render Swiftblade: The beginning
Subject: Render Swiftblade: The beginning
Render is a character I am currently playing in FR Edge of darkness. I thought it would be fun to post some side-stories of his previous adventures. This is to develop better writing skills, as I plan to begin writing a book sometime this year.
Please hit me with any criticism no matter how harsh.
I also intend to update this thread with more short stories roughly once a week.
I wrote this last night, and I am aware of a punctuation minefield. READ CAREFULLY.
The orphanage was a small place dark, grotty and cramped. He shared his small room with three other boys, Contus a small human boy with big features, he looked like a nobles son, a bastard from some rich gentlemen no doubt. Samand, a tall elven boy three years older than Render, he was mean looking and was a very self assured and cocky young elf. To the orphans Samand was their leader, their spokesperson, and he took a great liking to Render. The third was a chubby, fat cheeked coward, he was also a halfling but that was about all they had in common. Samand taught Render everything he knew, how to pickpocket, notice targets, and most importantly short cuts and techniques of how to get out of trouble. Samand was Renders role-model, and Render was Samands protege. Others were starting to get jealous, in the orphanage this now meant life or death.
Render was fourteen now and Samand had left the orphanage to join an underground crime gang in Darromar. After fending off many attempts on his life, involving traps, physical violence and even poison, he had become the leader of the small orphan gang. He was worse than Samand had been and even more ruthless. He followed on from Samands organisation of the orphans, they had become a small but effective crime force, they were small, sly and most importantly they were organised. This meant they could scour almost 5% of a crowd, they took jewels, rings and purses. Two would provide a distraction, an argument or a show of a sleight of hand. People would look, or even stare, making them unaware of their surroundings this gave the thieves time to steal and take from the richer members of the crowd.
After a year of false promises, Render took forty percent of all profits, leaving the others little better than they had been a year ago. Render had promised that he would buy the orphanage, they would be a crimeforce and the best in the whole of Tethyr. They would be rich beyond their wildest dreams. The plan however was subtly different, Render would be rich yes, but the others would live a life of paupers. Did he care?
Render was about to find out that fate had a way of intruding on his grand ideas. A month passed and a plague had hit the city of Darromar. Fortunately though, the plague was not one of the norm. It spread throughout the noble quarters, the new slaves from the Jungles of Chult had bought with them an unknown disease. The first time it had paid to be poor, however the benefactor of the orphanage had died leaving no heir, and more importantly no will. This meant they needed a new one, Render had enough money saved now, to be the new owner and benefactor. However, this was not part of his plan, he needed one more month that was all. Then he could leave the orphanage with enough money to start a viable business. He must lie.
He told the other orphans he had bought the place and they were secure, he had also told the council he was awaiting a business deal to go through and would run the orphanage himself in less than a month. Both were dangerous lies, but they had to be told.
The month passed by, and finally, he had saved enough. He was free. The orphans though were not quite as happy as Render. He had confided in no-one, but the more intelligent of the group were starting to suspect something was up, especially Contus. He had grown now to stand a good two foot above Render. He was well toned and very strong and had asserted himself as next in line to Renders... responsibilities. Render feared him, he was dividing the orphanage now. One group were astute followers of Render. The other was drawn in by Contus' rich promises and talks of a fairer share of the rewards. It was time to leave...
Posted on 2011-08-25 at 14:01:15.
Edited on 2011-08-25 at 17:42:15 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: The Scarred Continents: A Grail of Blades
Subject: Lets go!
Get it done!
I am excited by this game, cannot wait for the start.
Posted on 2011-08-25 at 13:39:46.
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Topic: Forgotten Realms: Edge of Darkness
Subject: Safety Zone!
Render sat in his tree, the weather had changed now. The sun was setting and a chill was setting into the very marrow of his bones. The tree was deeply uncomfortable and Render shifted regularly making as little noise as possible. He found himself staring down at the new woman, Leanderia that was her name, he envied her hiding spot. To him it looked like a bed of silken cushions, despite the fact it was cold hard earth, it seemed to him much more comfortable than the long hard branch he was perched on.
Renders eyes had rarely left Basyl, he was beginning to like the haughty sailor. He saw bravery, confidence and a rare glint of himself in the man, it was lost long ago, but Render saw ambition and a caring for others. Something Render hadn't felt since a young boy. It made his stomach lurch, he hated even the thought of a good deed. He would not let this disjointed group of misfits ruin his personal... happiness.
As Render watched, Basyl walked further into the camp and he winced, his left eye closing into a wink, the wrinkles of his face creasing his skin. This could only end badly! Why did he not put himself forward? He had closed more business deals than these lot had sipped a drink of mead. Yet his one rule of life had stopped him from butting in 'Render first, others second.' So far it had worked, after all he wasn't in the camp, surrounded by men who followed his same rules. A part of him yearned to help Basyl, but that was quickly overcome. After all his main goal in life was to stay alive, he was up a tree and safe enough for now...
Posted on 2011-08-24 at 16:21:43.
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Topic: Flux Wars
Subject: A first taste of riches!
Takra Stood there, surrounded by patterns, swirls and more prominently some of the most important men in the whole of her known world. Although Takra may not of heard of their names before, she was more than aware of most titles present in the marvellous room. Takra was still in a state of shock, she had switched off as usual when filled with wonderment and awe, she gazed around the room at the magnificent garish colours and flamboyant dress of some nobles. She heard the conversation through her long pointed ears, however by the time the noises reached her they were hazy and mumbled, but one word rang warning bells in her mind!
“Mages Hardwood and Elmheart”
It was hers and Crystals name.
This snapped her back to reality.
“Link to Chambers' mind, be able to give us an, at least vague, outline of his intentions. Does the Sevaraii truly want to help us, will he and his masters betray us if the war turns ill?"
She looked to the speaker, her mouth almost dropped at the sight of his shining golden armour that twinkled in the candlelight. She ground her teeth together knowing she didn't have a choice of the words about to spill out of her mouth, the mans tone had cleared that one up for her.
“I'm in, anything to help you, my... lords.” Said Takra, although it was not meant to, her voice carried a hint of sarcasm, showing her unfamiliarity with such... gentlemen.
Posted on 2011-08-23 at 19:55:55.
Edited on 2011-08-23 at 20:00:34 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: Demon Wind
Subject: A pint and an attempt of Camaraderie
Seb wandered up the stairs behind the others, still annoyed at being dragged away from the free drinks. Boredom started to creep in. Seb liked either to be active, drinking or gambling preferably all three at the same time. At the moment however he was idle, he had drawn his sword in hope of further danger, however the rooms were empty and their was only one moment of interest, when the one who had interrupted him earlier had picked up a note. He found this highly interesting, as the readers facial expression quickly changed, originally it was of curiosity, then it changed to sadness and worry.
After the rooms upstairs had been searched, Sebastien returned to his seat grabbing another glass and filling another pint, hopefully he could enjoy this one a bit more than the last. He noticed noises coming from the kitchen, so drink in hand the tall 'knight' went over to check it out. Peering through the doorway he saw the three others of the group. Time to drum up some friendly conversation he thought.
“I guess this is our place now right? After all who is going to object.” Joked Seb, sipping on his pint.
He hoped the others didn't mind his down to earth humour. He was after all a lords son, used to people hanging on his every word and laughing at his every joke.
Posted on 2011-08-23 at 18:25:26.
Edited on 2011-08-27 at 16:14:56 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: ~Edge of Darkness~ Q&A
Subject: No worries
I don't mind! Have fun.
Posted on 2011-08-23 at 17:57:40.
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Topic: ~Edge of Darkness~ Q&A
Subject: Good to hear
I thought there could be mixed reactions with a character like Render but I am glad he is being received well OOC at least.
I am thinking about doing a few side stories about Render and posting them on the Creativity thread would anyone like to know a bit more about how Render became so... Cold hearted.
I really enjoy playing him too and writing about someone like that is so much fun. I feel he adds a bit to the game and bounces well off of all the other characters.
I think we are all doing a great job hopefully this'll go far. Fingers crossed I haven't jinxed it.
Posted on 2011-08-21 at 14:53:21.
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Topic: The Scarred Continents: A Grail of Blades
Subject: Character
Hey, I have started a backstory for my character today.
If i draft up a 3.5e character sheet and PM you it are you okay to make it into an info sheet based on whatever system you plan on making this game into?
I am very familiar with 3.5e however I haven't even seen any 4e content let alone seen the new rules etc...
Is that alright?
Posted on 2011-08-21 at 13:14:35.
Edited on 2011-08-21 at 13:14:50 by The_Haruspex
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Topic: Demon Wind
Subject: Knight of the Realm?
Seb sipped on his pint feeling the warmth of the mead drain through his body, “Hello old friend.” He whispered under his breath. There was little better in Sebs life then a cool pint of mead, bitter or any such alcoholic beverage. Whilst he sat there enjoying the peaceful minutes after the shock of the shadowy creature, he was disturbed by one of the group of adventurers. Irael he thought his name might have been, looked at him saying “Sir. I shall attend to other things.” It was meant to cause offence, however Seb took it as a compliment if anything Sir? Did these people think he was some knight of the realm? Well if they did they would be sourly disappointed, he thought. Unless, he was to play along with this charade for a while, it could be fun.
After downing his first pint, he was on his way to refill his glass with another mead. Just as he was about to pour the mead he was approached by another one of the group. What now? He thought, the alcohol starting to run through his system. The figure was at the bar now, and said to him arrogantly, “Sir Knight of Rydor, would you accompany me in a search of the Inn to find the remainder of the innkeeper’s family and staff. I am sure you wish to find the proper owners so you may pay them for that pint of mead. We must also search the rooms to be sure the Inn’s guests are safe.”
“In fact friend, I thought our saving of this tavern was payment enough, however as a knight of the realm it is my duty, neigh my privilege to assure everyone is safe. It would be my pleasure to join you.” Hoping his charade of knighthood had sufficed to convince at least one of the adventurers. He followed the newcomer wherever he may go, unsheathing his sword and ready for anything.
Posted on 2011-08-21 at 09:43:54.
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