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Post by Rane on Jun 1, 2017 14:57:27 GMT -5
*These tales are regularly posted in Greatgaunt for public viewing.*
Greatgaunt and the Milkman
The year is 1381 and this is one of the stranger stories during my stay in Cormyr. This story is a rare one. It is a recounting of the antagonist known as the Milkman from my perspective and his.
I will admit when I first heard of this new diabolical villain of the small village of Greatgaunt, I thought to myself "surely not." Who would choose to be known as such a ridiculous name? As you will come to learn my dear readers, the name while ridiculous was a genius ploy.
I can't tell this story to my friends from Calimport without first telling of Greatgaunt. Greatgaunt is a small village, and I don't mean small for a drudach. The population is less than one-hundred people. Even still this village is an interesting one. It boasts a bath house, and inn with some of the worst food I have ever tried, and a healers house. The local merchant known as Garrot would make any Calimshan merchant proud as he lines his pockets by shorting the poor adventurers who choose to sell him their wares.
Greatgaunt seems to be a magnet for potential cataclysmic events, attacks, murder, treason, arson, debauchery, and bad fashion. If you are in Calimport reading this STAY AWAY! There is no luxury for you here aside from a bath house. No, Greatgaunt is reserved for the adventurous types and hardy folk who don't mind working the land. It is not a place for those who want to live a life of luxury.
This brings us to the Milkman, the story for which most of you are reading. The Milkman has been terrorizing Greatgaunt for a while now. His antics began when a woman by the name of Abii was buried in the local cemetery. The milkman's antics always focused around Abii's grave. The milkman seemed to prefer picking on one person in specific, an elven woman named Raven. One day as I went to visit the druid near the cemetery I noticed a peculiar ward over Abii's grave. I told Raven about it and she rushed toward her head stone setting the ward off. Luckily nothing happened to her and when the ward was gone, it was revealed that the dirt of the grave was fresh and a fresh glass of milk sat atop it.
This of course made Raven furious, and she told me how the milkman had been targeting her.
I was curious truly. What motivated the milkman? Why did he choose to go after Raven, and what was his end game? So, instead of endlessly searching for him and running about town warded out like I was ready for battle, I wrote a simple letter and pinned it on the notice board.
"Meet with me milkman so I can hear your story" The parchment said, and it wasn't long before the milkman took down the parchment, and met with me in person.
This is what he had to say, exciting right?
Mr Milkman, what is it that makes you get up and go every day?
"Well Lucien those are great questions. First what makes me get up and go every day is the fact that my religion gets a bad rap. Someone has to put their foot forward and make progress or else a bunch of uppity elves and their half breed brethren will continue to harass members of my faith in ways that just get people killed."
"What is your inspiration?"
"My inspiration for the milkman was thinking about the importance of these individuals and how they deliver life nourishing milk. I would like to think that I do the same. I deliver special nourishing milk to those that wish to imbibe free of charge.
"Do you have any regrets?"
"Regrets? I have a few. The biggest was letting the love of my life get away. However, i'm confident that i'll find her and drag her back to where she belongs."
"Do you have any future plans?
"My future plans consist of discovering secrets of the great in-between and solving the problem of elven and their half breed interference. My games shall continue as long as they amuse me and my friends.
So! As you can see my dear readers, the plot thickens! The Milkman clearly has a vendetta against elves! Will his antics ever stop? Will he find out what he wants about this great in between!? What was the deal with Abii, and who is the Milkmans long lost love!
Perhaps we will never know. Stay tuned for more!
Lucien the Bard Signing out!
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Post by Rane on Jun 1, 2017 15:57:27 GMT -5
Hunger in the North!
People in the north are going hungry! A wicked spell of cold has killed off the summer's crop yield across Thesk, the Dalelands and the Moonsea region! It is apparant now that many days have passed that there is a large food shortage just north of Cormyr.
While people in the north are strong, one can't help but think how long they can last this year with their dwindled resources. Surely the forest creatures and herds in the open plains will not be enough to satiate such a large number of people.
Will Cormyr begin to feel the effects of this recent cold snap? Will our food run dry? Or will we begin to see refugees poor in by the thousands? I call upon you citizens and adventurers of Cormyr to stand ready, and take action. Surely something can be done to prevent our country from falling into the same despair. Surely we can help those in the north see the coming winter through.
Those reading from Calimshan beware your travels. You might find yourselves hungry, and those that are rich send aid!
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Jun 2, 2017 16:07:37 GMT -5
To be a Tree in Greatgaunt
If the trees in Greatgaunt could speak, they would tell wondrous and terrifying tales! Tales of intrigue, tales of death, and tales of indigestion! The year is 1381 my friends, and Greatgaunt once again is the centerpiece of this tale.
If one was to venture into Greatgaunt they would find a curious sight! Along its road is a wooden fence, and across from that fence are two trees! These trees sit at a junction in town and are constantly claimed by varying factions.
One tree near Garrot's store looks to have a bend at the hip as if saying look at my behind, it's fabulous! This tree is the elven tree, where elves gather in a line and tell jokes to each other. The elves that gather here are always attempting to be the center of attention.
Yet across the way is another tree. This tree is slender, straight as an arrow. The grass has been trampled dead beneath the boots of those who choose to stand under it. This tree is claimed by a priest of Talos named Shiv. Shiv is the kind of guy that crashes through a door instead of checking to see if it is locked. He has a fiery temper, and would not hesitate to show you the skills that Talos has provided him.
In a very bullying fashion, Shiv typically takes his tree whether it is occupied or not.
To those who are inclined to adventure the thought of being a tree sounds rather dull. You are for the rest of your life to remain rooted to one spot. But the trees in Greatgaunt are full of stories, and they never see a dull moment.
My dear readers in Calimshan, if you ever venture to Greatgaunt, "I don't see why you would" please remember that there is more to standing under a tree than you think. You could be insulting an elf, or inviting a shiv in the back from a local priest of Talos.
Lucien The Bard
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Post by Rane on Jun 4, 2017 14:40:46 GMT -5
Our Dutiful overlord
Our dutiful overlord! As I become more acclimated to the goings on of Cormyr I can't help but think there is a mysterious Dutiful Overlord at play.
I'm not overly devout myself, but I know a lot about the gods. To often do we see things fall in place that could not be diety inspired. Is there a new diety that we aren't aware of? What domains does this god claim? Surely this Dutiful overlord has the whimsical demeanor of a child who is enjoying the wonderment of the world.
I like to imagine that at times our new overlord burns us down as ants with a magnifying glass, and then shows up to tell us a series of jokes to kick off the weekend. Surely the mad god has stirred up recently to compete with our new Dutiful Overlord and its chaos. Is the mad god jealous?
The dutiful Overlord watches over us like a "Hawk", and we are its amusement. Will we survive? Or will we be rewarded as kings and queens? That's for this new mysterious stranger to decide. Oh maybe i'm crazy. Maybe it's just the chaos of life that i'm describing, but one has to wonder.....
Lucien The Bard
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Post by Rane on Jun 13, 2017 18:33:03 GMT -5
Millwood
Would you believe there is quite a story in the tiny town of Tyrluk? If you travel there as an adventurer beware of the hospitality. The guard do not like adventurers, nor will they put up with any shenanigans. I guess a guy like me chose a bad place to visit huh?
Anyway if you go you must visit a tiny tavern by the name of "Old Mans Face." This tiny tavern boasts a quaint little fireplace and a nice single room to rent for a good nights sleep. If you find yourself looking around and notice an old painting, you should walk on over to Gerrod Millwood and ask him about it. He will tell you all sorts of things about who the picture might be, but he believes that it's truly just a prank by the owner to keep people talking.
Millwood I equate to Waric of Greatgaunt, except this man is a guard, and a heavy drinker. He isn't fond of adventurers and despite my charm I couldn't win the man over. He smells like a brewery! But alas he comes from a long line of Purple Dragons. His father and his grandfather both served! They fought and died for Tyrluk. So be sure to raise a mug of ale for him if you can!
Mr Millwood seems to have a thing for a fair maiden named Carissa. Carissa if you are reading this I think Millwood is a swell guy with an honored history!
My dear readers, between Shadowshield Mounts, Old Mans Face and a rather nice set of Blue Dragon Armor, Tyrluk is a swell place to visit!
Lucien The Bard
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Post by Rane on Jun 20, 2017 8:28:37 GMT -5
Holy Moly!
The Milkman strikes again! Or does he? Recently I have been traveling Cormyr much more than usual and I have run into a curious individual named Chell. Chell is a paladin who has a rather peculiar personality. When I first met him, it was a random jaunt through the sewers of Suzail, where I helped him destroy an evil cult. That sounds like typical paladin stuff right?
It was our second meeting that I found peculiar. I was traveling through the storm horns, enjoying the scenery, battling the ettins that roamed the hills when I ran into Chell again. One of the members of our adventuring group seemed very nervous. She said that Chell often travels with a known Cyricist named Abii. Why would a paladin travel with such company I thought? The member of my group confronted Chell about Abii because apparantly they have a long history, and the paladin named Chell did indeed confirm that he has been traveling with her.
Not only did he confirm such, but he defended her. A few members of my group told him he was a fool for traveling with her, to which he responded in anger.
I bet at this point you are wondering where the milk man comes into this? It wasn't long after this encounter with Chell that I returned to Eveningstar. We didn't want to continue traveling since Abii was roaming the hills near us, and who do you think we ran into? Abii, Chell, and the Milkman all stood in Eveningstar near the caravan. It looked like Chell was not very happy with the Milk Man, and Abii stood behind Chell observing the scene.
I took this moment of oppurtunity being the curious little scamp that I am, to ask Abii what her deal was. She admitted to everyone that she had fought and killed Holance and several others, and still Chell defended her. Chell bought a caravan and chased the Milkman towards Skull Cragg.
Let's move forward a few days! I am now traveling through the west hills of Suzail after a rather triumphant battle against an ogre bandit chief, when I come upon a dead body. It was the milkman! I looked around curious of the scene. The milkman's head had been viciously mutilated and his heart torn asunder. I saw Chell walking off towards the gates of Suzail so I followed him. He told someone along the way that he had killed the milk man.
Again, curious scamp! I approached him and asked him why he killed the milk man. He told me a tale about how the milk man threatened his girlfriend. He asked me if I had a girlfriend. Fear not ladies, i'm a single man yet! Chell killed the milk man because he was angry, he seemed to think that he would not be a paladin for much longer.
So my friends, what do you think of this? I know that this story is a bit more serious than my usual attempt at diatribe but alas! The milkman saga as promised has been brought to light once again. Will the paladin named Chell fall for his actions? Will the milk man get the girl? Oh wait! He is dead! Or is he?
Lucien the Bard
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Post by nemusator on Jun 20, 2017 16:49:54 GMT -5
First of all please explain to me, how this is not trolling?
But all the above mentioned facts need a deeper insight.
I understand that you are doing this for everyone's amusement...
But let me get it started with my review of your latest post:
- Are you seriously trying to be funny by mocking Shiv and his tree? Dude is one of the best RP players I met on this server. He is one of the rare people I know who can say but a sentence or a word and make quite an impression...
-As for Abii. Right, the player made an outburst. He did something wrong, apologized and admitted it. He got penalized by the DMs. Chell adventured with Abii once... Before he knew he followed Cyric, and before it happened. He did not like some of her attitudes, but she always apologized to prevent an escalation. So Chell thought, alright... This person has some issues... But is decent enough to admit mistakes...
Second time Chell met Abii, he still did not know what deity she serves. He knew about her act of evil though. But Abii sit down and told Chell I want to change my ways and stuff...
She admitted tons of stuff, bunch of it Chell even did not know...
So you are free to call Chell naive or even stupid....
But Chell thought he had a strong impact on Abii... And thought.... *sighs* Alright... Lets see what I can do here.... If nothing I can monitor her and prevent more mass murders from occurring if nothing, but he sincerely hoped for more, and had some really good RP.
The last time, the third time Chell traveled with Abii.... He did not know a thing about Hollance murdered and such.
Stuff you are mentioning as Abii admitted of murdering Hollance happened all as OOC discussion. If nothing it started as such.
Chell and Abii saved some slaves and defeated some evil guys. Oh, in the meantime, Chell gave some tasks of good deeds to Abii, which she did, and therefore enforced his belief in her. You ofc. do not know any of this... It seems to me that this thread is made to honor the Milkman and everything else is simply.... Not dishonoring him or his RP btw.
Chell find out later of Abiis doings... And trust me when I say that he knows as much of them as herself...
As for the rest of the RP to come, it is between me , Abii, and few of those familiar with the full story...
Also, yes, I acted in a non paladin way. Thanks for making the mockery out of it. I am fine OOC, but my character suffered deeply cause of it.
I was taunted by the milkman, failed to keep my cool and acted wrongly.
Paladin should be strong, and I should have just ignore his lies... But alas...
Anyway, whatever the decisions DMs make about Chell I will agree completely, they know the best.
So that is what I think. I do hope that more people will debate on this.
Also, those were not sewers... That was an abandoned home quest in Suzail, a crypt beneath a home... I do believe there is a difference...
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Post by FORSETIS on Jun 20, 2017 17:36:00 GMT -5
Please direct any concerns to a Player Advocate or your preferred DM.
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Post by Rane on Jun 20, 2017 17:46:28 GMT -5
Sorry for the confusion bud.
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Post by nemusator on Jun 20, 2017 17:58:33 GMT -5
Np, just continue with your good work and ignore my response Did not realize this is fully a RP thread from Lucien*s perspective, sorry! Was hoping for some inspiring debate, but no place for it here, so please continue, looking forward to more!
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Post by Rane on Jun 29, 2017 23:45:52 GMT -5
Gregor the Sock Thief
*small streaks of water dot this page*
There was once a dwarf named Gregor, who could pick all of the locks, snip all of the traps, and shiv all of the rats in the western realm.... Or so he claimed. "I can steal the socks off the king!" Gregor exclaimed. One night Gregor drank with some kin in the the Bloody Dwarf when he began to boast of his skill. "I can pick and snip em all! I can steal the socks right off the king!" he yelled.
One of Gregor's drunken friends overheard his claims and made him a bet. There was a giant in the hills not far from town who the dwarf claimed slept with socks each night."Steal his socks Gregor!" the drunk dwarf yelled. "I will believe in your skill once and for all!" So Gregor and his drunk friend went to the hill where the giant lived.
When they arrived the giant slept soundly outside of its lair. A great fire with a large pot did sit boiling next to him. Gregor crept up on the sleeping behemoth, and took quick note of his large boots. Gregor did have the skill you see, his friend watched as he got not one, but both boots off.
But to Gregor's surprise, the giant didn't wear socks...
"I guess I forgot to tell him that part" Gregor's friend said as he retold the story years later. "The Giant woke with a sudden fury! Poor Gregor never removed the socks and ended up part of the giants stew. I guess you could say he wasn't as good as he claimed!"
So the moral of the story my dear readers is that giants do not wear socks, and you should never trust a drunk friend.
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Jun 30, 2017 19:17:47 GMT -5
The Cornucopia Trading Company
The Cornucopia Trading Company is run and owned by none other than Valera Sarena. Miss Serena is a strikingly beautiful woman with the charm and wit to make any competing entrepreneur shake in their boots. For most of her life she has known the ways of trade. Her father was a merchant, who wished for her to follow in his footsteps. Reluctantly as most children do when faced with the wishes of their parents, Miss Serena joined her father's trading caravan and found that she enjoyed the travel. It wasn't until she lead a caravan herself that she ended up in Cormyr. Her caravan was attacked by bandits and she was stranded.
Remembering what her father taught her, she quickly made use of her skills. She joined the Red Myst Trading Coaster in Valkur's Roar and found that she was very good at the merchant life. When miss Serena earned the coin she founded her own company the Cornucopia Trading Company in Marsember.
It doesn't stop there people. Not only has miss Serena founded a company, her company gives back to the people. Her company began in 1379, and since then it has sponsored adventurers who in turn clear our roads, caves, and bad guys. We often forget that adventurers are essential to Cormyr as many of them are capable in handling tasks that the Crown cannot. The Cornucopia Trading Company also donated generously to charities in Marsember, Arabel, and Valkurs Roar. Miss Serena stated that charity donations are something that she will continue to do. Her company also offers crisis relief in case of disaster. I'm betting when this food crisis does finally reach our borders, the Cornucopia Trading Company will be on top of it.
The Cornucopia Trading Company will no doubt continue its trade in goods, money lending at fair rates, and sponsoring adventurers for a safer Cormyr. There is also storage room in its warehouse.
People of Cormyr and my dear readers is Calimshan, businesses like the Cornucopia Trading Company are a shining example of how to get things done.
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Jul 14, 2017 21:35:19 GMT -5
Rumors and Riddles
Lately in Cormyr there have been rumors popping up all about. These rumors typically appear near a speaking crowd, written on pieces of paper. Some of these rumors are indeed fact, but many of them are being questioned. What is the purpose of these rumors? Surely they hold some sort of meaning.
I do pose this question. Are these rumors eventually going to reveal something more? Or are they the ramblings of a madman. I leave you with this my dear readers, one such riddle posed by the unknown writer.
"I have little strength but mighty powers, I guard small hovels and great towers. But perchance my master leaves, he must ensure he safeguards me."
Lucien the Bard, keeper of Keys
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Post by Rane on Jul 15, 2017 14:57:35 GMT -5
Law!?
Many of the Cormyrian locals are familiar with this story whether it be rumor or fact. A huge trial spanning many hours just concluded in Greatgaunt, where many faces became involved. Some of these faces where well known and some where new. This story will highlight some prominent things that I Lucien the Bard noted during the proceedings. You may find that some of these events tie into my previous writings.
First and foremost was Abii. A very dangerous woman who I have mentioned casually in the past. She was the start of all of this. Several testimonies where given against her. It was claimed that she had murdered several people, used their blood in some sort of dark ritual, placed brands upon her victims, and that she is guilty of worship of the mad god.
Now I will admit most of the evidence against her was mere speculation, but one cannot deny that there was an overwhelming amount of people that stepped forward against her. If you take into account that these individuals often varied in skill, alliance, and even philosophy, then you could convince yourself that nearly every word against her was true. I had to ask myself "why would a Thayan and a Paladin say almost the same thing about a woman unless it was the truth?" Those two groups don't mix well. This woman has to be one messed up individual to cause those two factions to come together in order to destroy her.
As these proceedings ran on, other names where mentioned and they all seemed to tie back to Abii. One name was Chell the Paladin that I wrote about in the recent past. I didn't get to overhear his testimony but he was quickly jailed after the hearings concluded.
Shiv of Talos, another involved was jailed because he attacked Abii multiple times, and constantly disrupted the proceedings. He even refused to give testimony for a while but was finally convinced to do so.
Now we have Cassius aka The Milkman. This guy was the icing on the whole thing. When he took the stand to offer his own testimony it was a moment of hilarity, and mouth dropping drama.
For a better picture I now offer you his song that he sang while on the stand.
"Oh the Milkman can! Who can shake the bottle... and feed the babies too? The Milkman! Oh the Milkman can! The Milkman can and he does it with a smile and never judges you! Who can this bottle? I don't mind at all. Who can feed my baby while I go to a big fancy ball?
The Milk Man!
The millk delivery folks are jolly friendly blokes, Courteous and easy goin! They mop up when you're overflowin! And tell you when your arse is showin!
Who can? Who can? Who can?
The Milkman Cannnn, Cause he's Cassius my good man!"
So as you can see, the Milkman aka Cassius was quite a character. His song brought laughs from not only his supporters which where few... But from paladin and guard alike. His testimony bordered upon schizophrenic episodes of pure delirium and insanity, followed by some rather nasty burns at a ranger named Marister.
Alas my dear readers the trial has ended, and while I fully expect this woman named Abii to see the noose or the chopping block... I'm not to certain what will happen to the rest. Will they be freed? Will there be a major upset and Abii be set loose once again?
Keep your eyes out for the next article when sentences are complete.
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Jul 23, 2017 4:48:17 GMT -5
The Death Bell Tolls
I imagine that all throughout Cormyr the death bell tolls. Agents of Kelemvor prepare to receive the dead and lay them to rest for good. Weeping friars come far and wide to offer their necks and heads for the block or noose to lessen the suffering in the land. One thing is certain my dear readers, heads will roll. The verdict is done, it has been passed and several adventurers will cease to live. Abii the murderess has been convicted of her crimes, and she will die for them. Cassius the milkman will no longer be able to make his deliveries... He too will die for his crimes.
Did you think I was done? Sir Chell of Milil is sentenced to die for his crime of murder. Shiv of Talos will also face death for his crimes. I do wonder why these people will be fined gold and then stripped of life? It seems like the law is really twisting the knife on this one. Perhaps they grow weary of the adventurers antics in the small village. I see a storm coming to which the adventuring type will have to answer for. I'll be the first one to ask for mercy should that day come.
In the wake of the verdict many people will face jail time as well. Some of them deserve it, but some verdicts are up in the air. Holance, a well known paladin in the land faces time for attempting to stop Shiv of Talos from a rampage. Shiv struck a man in Greatgaunt with his fist you see, and Holance paid him back in full. He faces fourteen days for his crime, and most of that sentence has already been served. Many say that he is a paladin who was doing his duty. Others say that Holance should be held accountable for his actions just as a peasant is.
And then there are others that hope he crashes and burns for what he did. I even heard whispers that some wish Holance to be among those that face the Death Bells.
Another case is Velisario of the Divine Order of Resurrection. With his fancy title Velisario is one of the many who fought Abii and sparked the whole trial. Velisario has been sentenced to seven days in jail, with a small fine of seven thousand gold. Again some people believe he should serve his time, and some believe his actions just. I can tell you this though, a Red Wizard who was also involved in aiding Velisario and one named Haven has already turned himself in.
I don't think I am only speaking for myself when I say that I am happy that this business is finally done. We can now breathe a sigh of relief, cover our children's eyes and ears while ropes go taught, necks break, and axes thud. We can move on from this mess and hopefully be better for it. This last bit goes out to the adventuring type. It would be wise to carefully consider your actions from now on. It is very clear that the law will no longer play games. The death bells do not pick sides.
Lucien the Bard
"This writing is sponsored by the Cornucopia Trading Company Located in Marsember. Cornucopia Trading Company offers loan services, and sells wares at competitive pricing. If you have more questions, please contact Valera Sarena"
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Post by Rane on Aug 7, 2017 21:28:13 GMT -5
And So This Chapter Ends
My dear readers in Cormyr, with a heavy heart I must inform you that this chapter is drawing to an end. For several moons there will no longer be stories of heroism, politics, intrigue. I will not be telling you about how the death bells toll, or the latest fashion gossip. There will be no more humor, no more debauchery and diatribe.
I have grown to become very fond of the people in this land. You have shown me that you all possess great fortitude to combat the daily challenges you have to face. I have grown even closer to some adventurers here too and to those who I am leaving I just wanted to say that it's not forever. There will be a time when you see me again, when you hear my jokes and roll your eyes at my poor attempts to bring you entertainment. I do hope that when I return, I will recognize you all as you once where, and that you will see the same man that I was when I left.
To my love, I will return to you before you know it. You will find something to apply your wonderful mind to, and in doing so I will return to you quickly.
So it is time my dear readers and friends. It is time that this bard says farewell, for now.
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Sept 17, 2017 21:51:39 GMT -5
Drama For Your Mama
Drama, an exciting series of events or emotional set of circumstances. Often when adventurers describe drama they are not talking about the theatrical version. Drama to an adventurer is typically an annoying set of circumstances. The he said she said type of anomaly that rips apart the bind that formed a friendship, and completely changes someone.
People claim that Greatgaunt is the catalyst for most dramatic events, yet I have found that one simply needs to find a gaggle of adventurers and wait. Before you know it, the drama has begun; and you will likely be pulled into it.
It's much the same in my homeland. In Calimport the "drama" is on a grand scale. You will find it as low as a slave and all the way up to a pasha. It's an interesting thing truthfully. I do my best to study it fromm afar, although it doesn't always go as planned. In recent events, people who I would have never expected to fight have done so. I have been attacked on the road and labeled as the attacker. Old friends have become new foes, and old foes have become good friends.
While I do prefer the theatrical drama, it seems as if we won't get that for some time as people settle their differences. I'm back by the way. I wasn't gone long was I dear reader? This is probably a strange article to begin on, but I will admit that even I have problems with writers block. Expect a series of writings in the coming days as I need to make up for lost time.
Sincerely, Lucien the Bard
"This writing is sponsored by the Cornucopia Trading Company Located in Marsember. Cornucopia Trading Company offers loan services, and sells wares at competitive pricing. If you have more questions, please contact Valera Sarena"
To Valera, This one is on the house.
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Post by Rane on Oct 27, 2017 9:21:27 GMT -5
*a weathered and not so fabulous writing is hung in the usual Tales of Cormyr location. The bottom end were the advertisements usually go is in ruin and ripped up. You can still make out the green and gold ink in places that would have been the advertisement for the Cornucopia Trading Company.*
I’ve been traveling a long and tiresome road lately. A road full of strife and hatred. Even after betrayal I wouldn’t say I hate my brother. Does that make me a better person? I do not believe it does.
I have spent some time in Paradiso Avenue. It’s a shady place in Calimport. A busy thriving market in which one can find anything they desire. I have been searching for something for years there. A piece of metal from the stars.
Isn’t it funny how we attach our happiness to physical things? Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I tell myself how happy I will be if I was to find this metal.
But that happiness is only fleeting. After I acquire such I would move on to the next physical desire.
I have also spent time in my family house. I don’t hate my brother as I mentioned before, but I do have to kill him as justice demands. This is something that I am attempting to find peace with. How would you feel if your brother joined forces with the man that killed your mother, and hid the fate of your sister from you?
How would you feel if you found out that your brother wants to kill you so he can be head of the household. He is responsible for the death of your father, and the brainwashing of your sister?
I think that is the worst part of it all. How could someone use their own blood as a pawn against their family.
Alas I must seem like a rambling mad man at this point. Not every story can have a lesson or a happy ending. Sometimes we just have to state what is on our mind. I am a troubled bard, with a dark past. I write these stories to bring happiness to the world and in doing so I get to escape my own reality for a while. I don’t think this is one of those stories. This letter has made a long journey and I am not even sure if it will reach its destination. Should I apologize to you all if it does reach your eyes? Perhaps you will appreciate that someone writes the truth for once.
It’s interesting hearing the misfortunes of others wether we admit it or not. It’s always interesting... until it is our own misfortune.
And to that certain someone, I just want you to know that....
*the rest of the writing is in tatters and incomprehensible*
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Post by Rane on Dec 2, 2017 2:57:56 GMT -5
Detlaff the Unlucky Part 1 Most would consider it a good thing to live for eternity, but for Detlaff it was terribly unlucky. Don’t get me wrong, Detlaff wasn’t a bad sight to behold. He was a tall pale man with handsome features and dark hair. Detlaff dressed in nobleman’s attire. It was unknown were his true home was, but he made sure to have the best clothing brought in from the far reaches. Detlaff had purchased an inn along a well-traveled road. Once a moon a cart would come laden with supplies to aid him in restocking the place. I stayed in this place for two whole moons while away from Cormyr. This is his story.
Detlaff’s inn didn’t have a name. Out in front it had a small wooden sign fashioned into an arrow that simply said “inn.” Travelers from all over would regularly stop by for a meal, drink, and a bed. The inn itself was old. The structure was made of wood and minor repairs had been done over the years. Across the road from the inn was a large stable, big enough to fit a few wagons if need be. The woods in the area were thick and dark, and they surrounded the establishment completely. The only bit of clearing was the stable and the inn itself. If one was to ride hard down the worn path, they might even miss the simple wooden sign entirely and keep going.
I spent two moons inside of this inn. When I first arrived I will admit that I did not expect the lavish furnishing that adorned the inside. It reminded me in a way of the Tipsy Imp in Valkurs Roar, except Detlaff had more of a Gothic tone to his setup. Two large gargoyles sat on each side of the main door outside, and when one entered they were greeted with low lighting. There was a man inside who would instantly greet newcomers and take their coat or hat if they had one. They would be given a ticket to retrieve their garments when it was time for them to leave.
Detlaff never served drinks at his bar. He had a man dressed in a fancy suit who did that for him. His name was Gerald and unlike the rude barkeeps you typically encounter elsewhere, Gerald was a master of his craft. Gerald whether he cared about you or not, would do a very good job in convincing you that he did. I walked directly to the bar when I first arrived. Gerald greeted me with the word master, which I found to be very flattering and immediately poured me a drink. To my surprise it was just what I craved. Gerald would later quip that he could tell what a person desired as soon as they entered the door.
It was at the bar that I saw Detlaff for the first time. He was entertaining some of his patrons by a table. Detlaff had his hand resting on the back of a booth along the wall and he was leaned in whispering to a beautiful lass who laughed in turn. After a moment of speaking with her he paused and stood straight, and then turned to look directly at me. I was still fresh off of the road, in armor with my weapons concealed behind me. I gave him a nod and turned to finish my drink, and then suddenly I was approached from the side.
Detlaff shook my hand and welcomed me to his inn. He asked me how I liked it, and explained that it had been with him for a very long time. I couldn’t help but notice that he appraised me as we spoke. His welcoming expression never broke, but it was almost as if he felt uneasy. I bought myself a double room that first night and I was pleased with how well it was furnished. I took off my mithral shirt and folded it neatly on the chest at the end of my bed, and then I went about the task of dismantling my gear. I laid my supplies out in neat order on the fancy rug in the floor. I took count of my inventory and then I cleaned or repaired what needed fixing. I heard a knock at the door. Detlaff each night would go to each door and greet his guests before he turned in. He knocked on my door and I answered. He greeted me and asked me if I required anything before he turned in for the night. I told him no, and again I noticed him appraising me.
He even leaned to the side and noted my gear neatly organized on the floor. “If you do require anything tonight my door is at the end of the hall” Detlaff said. He went to turn away from me and paused. “I find it curious that one from Calimshan would grace my inn.” “Perhaps we can have a conversation about your travels tomorrow.”
I smiled politely to Detlaff and nodded to him. He bowed to me in turn and gently closed my door. It was a long ride between my last camping spot and the bed that awaited me in my room. Sleep overtook me quickly.
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Post by Rane on Dec 2, 2017 23:48:30 GMT -5
Detlaff the Unlucky Part 2 I was awoken early by a knock at the door. Gerald had brought a tray of breakfast to my room. He informed me that the owner was waiting for me in the dining room. I ate my breakfast and finished writing some of a new story I was working on. I donned my best suit, a finely tailored two piece with black and gold thread. I had to use my own mirror to check my appearance since my room didn’t have its own. I placed the mirror on the top of a dresser next to my bed and left the room. I locked the door with a key and headed for the dining room.
Detlaff was there. He was sitting in the corner by a window with a lavishly decorated curtain upon it. He had a book in his hand and stood as I approached closing it. He bent at the waist and motioned to the chair in front of him. I sat and a drink was brought to me by Gerald. As usual it was just what my palette craved. I took a sip of the drink and looked to Detlaff with a smile.
“Well sir, you are curious of Calimshan?’
Detlaff was more than curious. I told him about the vast deserts that covered the land and how they were created by high magic. I told him of Calimport, the hustle and bustle of the streets and the unfortunate slavery situation that consumed it. Detlaff was especially interested in the story of Calim the Djinni and Memnon the Efreeti. Their war had been raging for a long time, but I found it curious that Detlaff had reacted to the times that I spoke of as if he had known them himself.
He filled in some of my story and corrected me in places.
“I’ve lived a very long time Lucien.” “So long in fact that time has become distorted in my mind. I find it hard to remember the year of certain events. Instead I blend them together with the rest of my memories as simple moments of my lifetime.”
Detlaff had me so intrigued that hours had passed between us swapping stories. I was delighted when he agreed to tell me some of his life's story on the next morning.
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Post by Rane on Dec 5, 2017 3:12:47 GMT -5
Detlaff The Unlucky Part 3
So long did we speak that the orb in the sky had gone down. Candles burned to their limit around us, and Gerald seemed as if he was growing annoyed with having to keep our drinks full. Detlaff finally stood and pulled back the curtain to view the darkness beyond. The sound of woodland creatures and the song of an owl filled my ears. “Ah my friend, this conversation has been truly delightful. The way you describe these adventures of yours, I feel as if I am there.” Detlaff turned to me and bowed. “I truly thank you for bringing this old soul some entertainment. Will you join me again tomorrow?”
Of course I agreed. This man was interesting and I was excited to hear some of his own tales. I made my way to my room and unlocked it. It was dark inside. I lit a few candles bathing the room in warm light, and then I moved to my dresser. I heard a crunch beneath my boot and looked to see my mirror. It was broken on the ground. I was sure that I had placed it securely upon the shelf. A great yawn escaped me so I decided not to give it much thought. I laid back in the bed and fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed of a child, a wild elf. The child was panicked and trapped in a pit. The pit was full of spiders. I startled awake to a knock. “Good Morning young master” Gerald said as he entered the room. “The master of the house awaits you again.” “I must say, I haven’t seen his spirits this high in quite a while.”
Gerald bowed and left the room. I didn’t spend much time eating as I was excited to hear the stories Detlaff had for me. I quickly got dressed. This time I decided I was going to take a stroll through the woods when our conversation was finished. I put on my armor and concealed my weapons beneath my cloak. The cloak looked black, but if inspected very closely, you could see that each thread had writing upon it. The cloak told a thousand stories, and I was proud to have won it. But that’s another story. Detlaff awaited me in the same spot. “You wore your armor today?” He looked me over with a curious expression. “I figured I would get out and stretch my legs when we are done speaking” I replied. We both settled in with more drink. Detlaff began to tell me the story of his childhood. This is his story word for word. ***** I was just a boy in the western heartlands. My father was a poor farmer. We owned a small patch of land where the crops barely grew. Life was hard as I remember it. Even still father had a positive outlook. He tended his crops with great care. That love and care was probably the reason we had any crops come to harvest at all. He was a kind man, especially when mother passed in the night. We all woke up that morning and she was just gone. We never found her, and had assumed the wolves had taken her in the night. It wasn’t safe to venture out then you see, and we didn’t have many neighbors.
Father was especially kind then. I think her loss broke him. He worked harder, and spent more time with us kids. I had a sister too you see… But I don’t like to talk about her, forgive me. Hmm, where was I? Ah yes. It was around mid-day one summer. The sky was black and a wicked storm was brewing. The horses had escaped the barn and father had gone into the field to recover them. He forbid my sister and I from leaving the house so we watched him bring them back to the barn one at a time as the winds started to kick up with an awful howl. It was one of those storms that you never forget. Lightning lit up the sky and danced about in a powerful display. The rain hadn’t come in yet but the cool air told us that it was close. Father finally got the last horse in and the barn doors slammed shut with him in there. As they did, the latch on the outside slammed down locking the doors in place.
I told my sister to stay and I ran outside. The rain had started to pound at this point, and the wind was so strong that I could barely force myself across the open ground between our house and the barn. When I finally got to the door I grasped the latch for dear life and heaved until it flung open. The doors kicked apart and sent me flying backwards into the mud. I wiped my face and held my arm in front of it to shield my eyes from the stinging rain. As I drew closer to the barn I saw father. He was waving his arms at me frantically. I didn’t notice a dark figure next to him until I got closer. The figure’s head turned toward me, thunder rumbled across the sky and suddenly all I could see was darkness.
Well, you see Lucien… I never saw my father again after that. I woke up to birds chirping. Father and the horses where gone, and sister was alone in the house terrified. Now I know, this story isn’t what you expected. How does a man with my sophistication come from a past like that?
Luck...
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Post by Rane on Dec 10, 2017 1:25:59 GMT -5
Failings of the Crown Typically I have nothing but nice things to say about the powers that be. But it is clear that they have failed miserably in some aspects. Greatgaunt is known for chaos and shenanigans. An attack from a dragon or undead? Normal. But recently things have gone from chaos, to pure anarchy.
You see, when you are a child and your parents bring you a puppy, you have to feed and nourish it. You have to make sure the wolves don't take it, and that it grows strong enough to herd the sheep. I think you can guess that Greatgaunt is the puppy that i'm referring to, and it is clear that the powers that be do not intend to take care of it.
Look at the evidence. Sir Callen constantly hires adventurers to help him stave off the random attacks that come against the village. Bentin, is the only guard on patrol and his boots are in dire disrepair. He can't be in every place at once.
Several days ago, I stood in the square and was attacked by a horde of undead. Several adventurers came to the call, Shiv, Kai, Raven, Myself.. And we beat the undead back from the village. But then, the ground shook and suddenly Umber Hulks burst forward from beneath. They led a large contingent of goblin shock troops. They where well trained and vicious warriors. We fought them and slew them.... And then came the drow. Other adventurers arrived but the drow came in massive waves. Warriors, cut throats, mages, and priestesses all sprang forward. Their only intention was to capture us. "Take one alive!" they would yell as we cut through them.
We had exhausted most of our supplies as the second wave came. We stared on in dread as the ground shook again, and suddenly a fresh wave of goblins and drow came upon us. We fought to the last adventurer, but we where no army. They overpowered us. I died fighting surrounded with my back against the Talos blessed tree.
We awoke deep in the underdark. They teleported us there, and had stripped us of our weapons. We made a daring escape attempt.. but it didn't go as planned. We where stopped just before we reached our freedom, and again we awoke in a different cell and a different stronghold. Two drow houses where at war outside. My poor wife and I listened in agony as one of our fellow defenders in another cell screamed in horror. A mind flayer bore its tendrils into her face and destroyed her mind.
We where bloody and battered, but we managed to break out of our cells and once again plan an escape attempt. I walked into a drow barracks in nothing but my loin cloth, my hands bound behind my back. My wife and Kai where in drow attire that they had donned after we had visciously mobbed a couple of guards and killed them with our bare hands. I've witnessed a lot, but never the amount of savagery that we had to lower ourselves to in order to live...
They led me into the barracks with my hands bound. A guard greeted us at the entance. It was a ruse you see.. so we could get closer to him. And it worked for the most part. We killed him and found our gear. Then we very directly headed for the surface. It took us days to reach it again the second time. We fought and where trailed all along the way. The patrol that had stopped us during our first attempt was there. We fought them and defeated them down to a final priestess.. but we where spent.
Our member that had her mind broken by the flayer and myself decided to stay with the priestess, so the others could escape... But my wonderful wife had enough. Suddenly she attacked and so did the rest of us. We licked our wounds in the Tun and teleported away.
I'm bitter. All of us defenders during those days obtained more than physical wounds, and for what? When we returned days later the village didn't even acknowledge us. Just more adventurers to the grinder.
This all could have been avoided but the powers that be do not intend to take care of their puppy. Greatgaunt is a doomed village if something is not done. You can't rely on adventurers alone. There needs to be a bigger garrison installed for when the armies come back. And they will...
Sincerely, Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Dec 15, 2017 3:31:44 GMT -5
Detlaff The Unlucky Part 4
Final Detlaff went on to tell me that he did have some fortune back then. He and his sister were wandering in the woods along a well worn wagon path when a man on a white horse came into view. He wore black armor that glinted as the flecks of sun that peeked through the canopy above them struck it. On top of his helm was a tall golden plume. When he saw Detlaff and his sister he shouted for them to clear the road. He was an imposing figure to them, and they did so. A carriage came into view behind him. The four horse team pulled the carriage along at a slow pace. The wagon wheels bounced upon the path, but the wagon floated. Detlaff said that was how you could tell the difference between and expensive carriage, and a cheap one. The expensive ones felt as if they floated.
Dark purple curtains hung on the windows of the wagon and concealed the passengers within. A gnome in a set of green clothing and long white leggings held the reins. The wagon came to a halt as it approached them, and the curtain pulled back to reveal a woman dressed in expensive attire with a very pale face. She eyed the two children and said not a word. Detlaff's sister kneeled on the road, and yanked her brother down beside him.
When they fell to a knee the carriage door swung wide, and a well dressed man stepped forward. He glided down the three steps of the wagon that allowed one to climb in and stood before the children with a smile that seemed uncharacteristic, given the demeanor of the gnome and expensive lady in the wagon behind him.
He spoke to the children and asked them of their origins. They told him the story with tear streaked faces, and it was clear to Detlaff that the man was concerned for them. He argued with the woman in the carriage for several moments.
Not long after, the two children were in the wagon and a small castle was within view. They had been scooped up by the lord and one of his mistresses. He had promised them a home.
Detlaff received some of the best schooling in the land during his ten year stay there. The lord had allowed them to live in a small quarters just outside of the stables in the courtyard. Detlaff had learned to behave like a gentleman, and his sister had learned the ways of a lady of the court.
One of Detlaff's many chores was to tend to the stables. On one particular stormy night he heard one of the horses making a racket. He cringed as he heard what he knew was a stable gate slamming open in the gusting wind. He grabbed his lantern and put on his coat, then pushed his door open against the force of the wind and strode out through the courtyard to the stables.
Almost as soon as he had stepped outside, the rain had kicked up hard. He peered through the open stable building to the back and couldn't see anything. All was quiet as he walked in. The horses munched on oats and their charcoal eyes glinted back at his lantern light as he walked by. He saw the stable gate that he had heard slam open. It was at the very end of the building.
The wind that blew across the open stable door was howling loudly. He approached the stable gate and looked in. The horse was there chewing on oats like the others. He closed the gate and grabbed the latch to secure it. He felt something wet on the latch and brought his hand closer to his face to view it. His eyes went wide as he noted the substance was blood. Detlaff panicked and staggered backwards. As he did he tripped over something. He scrambled to his feet and saw before him a body covered in straw. The skin was very pale, and the man had a look of pure horror on his face.
Detlaff looked all around. His lantern shook in his hand and his breathing came heavy. He noted a a stable gate closer to the entrance open. "Who... Who goes there?" he said weakly at first. A dark figure walked out to stand in the middle of the isle. The horses began to panic and sway their heads about.
"I said who goes there!" Detlaff screamed. He glanced to the lantern as the light flickered. Suddenly an overwhelming amount of fear washed over him, coating him in a cold sweat. The lantern light suddenly extinguished, and the figure was upon him. He noted in horror that it was the lord who had taken him in. His face was covered in blood. "Oh this is very unfortunate young Detlaff" the lord said. Detlaff couldn't go back any further. He was against the wall. The noble strode forward with a wicked smile on his face, his mouth dripping with blood. He grabbed Detlaff's wrists with strength that Detlaff could not believe and pinned his arms to the wall. Detlaff suddenly felt a sharp pain as the man bit into him. The feeling of his blood leaving him rendered him cold and hopeless. His consciousness drifted away from him.----- At this point, I was at a loss. I sat before Detlaff in his well furnished establishment. The moon was out in full behind the curtains he had pulled back. How does one react when they realize they have been speaking to a vampire for several moons? Would you feel fear to know that the creature sits before you? Would it then make sense that you found a broken mirror in your room, and that everything seemed perfectly pleasing to your senses? Was Gerald in on this? I've felt fear many times. I've faced down dragons that could melt stone like wax, and liches that could raise armies of undead. But to have a creature in front of me, that had already proved himself to be cunning... and resourceful... Well I don't believe I have ever felt fear like that before. For once, I was so stricken that I could not speak. I couldn't even think of the words to say for a long moment. Detlaff sat across from me with a wine glass in hand. His eyes peered into mine as if searching for a reaction to his story. Finally, I grabbed my wine glass and took a drink. My hands trembled slightly. I patted my armor out of habit and my eyes looked to Detlaff's. In what I thought were about to be my last moments my mouth formed a sly smile. I raised my glass to Detlaff. He seemed to be surprised by my action and raised his own. My other hand gripped very tightly around the hilt of a kukri with a wicked magical edge behind my back. "To the most unlucky man I have ever met" I said...------ Dear readers. I want to thank you personally for sticking with me this far. I also want to thank all who have competed for the grand prize in this story inspired competition. I will post a notice soon of the winner!
Lucien the Bard
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Post by Rane on Dec 15, 2017 20:08:38 GMT -5
Idk why but the website shows a complete story and my app is showing half of it.
If the story begins with “at this point” for you let me know. I need to fix it
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Post by Rane on Dec 19, 2017 20:00:40 GMT -5
To R.L. From Your Admirer Greetings dear readers. Lately i've been picking through books written by several authors in Cormyr and I have realized that many of them do not have a platform of recognition. Lately i've come across a very interesting novel written by an author named Reskal Lewis. The work was very well done. So well done in fact that I really wish I could meet him. Mr. Lewis, perhaps you have some advice for a young writer. I would love to go over some ideas with you. If you are interested I await your response in Marsember. You can send me a message at the Bardic College. And you will receive payment for your time if necessary.
Sincerely
Lucien The Bard
*THESE ARE POSTED IN SEVERAL OF THE GREATER CITIES IN CORMYR*
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Post by Rane on Apr 1, 2018 0:17:29 GMT -5
So this is a thing. Story soon.
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Post by Rane on May 15, 2018 21:18:12 GMT -5
*Posted From Phone, likely several errors*
The Cowardly Drow Killer
“Deep within the underdark in a place unknown moved a drow patrol. Their clothing was tailored to make them a part of the blackness that enveloped them. The heat of their bodies was masked for the most part by thick cloaks and form fitting undershirts.”
“Their armor made no noise as it was the finest of mithral, and heavily enchanted by the mage of their house.”
“They picked their way along a dark corridor, and as they traveled there wasn’t a sound. They passed by several creatures that never knew they where there. This trip would take them three cycles of the underground clock, and they would not rest until they reached their destination.”
- - - -
I noted Sahir pause from telling his story. He reached forward with his right hand, the cuff of his sleeve hanging loose and brushing the table as it went. Sahir grabbed up his drink and took a sip.
He was a full head taller than I, but he had the same features, and his hair was worn in the same style as mine. If it wasn’t for him being ten years my elder, one would think we where twins. He was my brother, afterall. Sahir always wore blue robes that where made of the finest silk that one could purchase in Calimshan. Our father had gifted them to him when he left our home to go and study the arcane arts.
Sahir had made quite the name for himself before returning home. He had only been back in Calimport for a day before I had hunted him down, and dragged him by his collar to my favorite drinking hole.
It was a little hole in the wall bar along one of the many piers in the city. It offered a wonderful view of the massive harbor, and the night sky was almost as spectacular as if one was viewing it from the desert.
I sat with my back to the wall and my hood pulled low enough to block my eyes. Sahir sat across from me with his back to the door. He had a lot of confidence now. It was a big change from when he left home. If the rumors where true, then no one would dare to touch him anyhow.
He had told me several tales of a place called Cormyr. I had listened in wonderment as he talked about Greatgaunt, a hub of adventurers. He spoke of the Royal armies of Cormyr and the differences in culture.
Seeing a place like that was something that a small time bouncer like myself could only dream of. I Lucien Rein, would remain in Calimport forever. After listening to his tales I asked him about the drow. He had begun to tell me the story of a cowardly drow killer.
Sahir sat his drink back down and smiled at me.
- - -
The patrol had gathered as silently as death at the mouth of a large cavern. The cavern was circular and the ground smooth. It sloped upward slightly to form a hill in the middle and several passageways branched away from the cavern in different directions.
Atop the hill sat a hunched figure. In front of the figure was a small fire that lit the cave with a strange glow. The glow danced about the cavern walls and several stones glinted in the light. The patrol leader knew that the person atop the hill was burning mushroom stalk, and they likely weren’t from the underdark. His mouth formed into an evil grin as he signaled his men into formation with his hands.
Slowly the drow filed into the cavern and encircled the hill. Some of them poised themselves to strike from the base, and some drew tiny handheld crossbows, then levitated up into the darkness of the cavern’s ceilings.
They hid among the many stalactites that hung like spears from the top and waited.
The patrol leader confident that they where positioned appropriately, moved up the hill. He crept ever so slowly toward the hunched and hooded figure who sat facing away from him. He paused a few times to ensure that he wouldn’t be noticed.
Finally within reach the leader placed a hand on the hilt of a curved blade at his hip. He reached his hand out ever so slowly and quickly grabbed the hood of the hunched figure, yanking it back.
*To be continued*
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Post by Rane on Jul 29, 2018 23:32:52 GMT -5
Dust In The Wind?
Cormyr is certainly distraught over the recent lack of the adventuring type. Several have receded from Cormyrian lands, while others have retired. But we never really do retire do we? Eventually, some sort of calamity strikes and yet again we take up arms to do what we do best.
So for what reasons have our adventurers fled? There is still plenty of fighting, plenty of treasure, and plenty of fame to be made within Cormyr's borders.
I hope to once again see Cormyr become the vast hub for adventuring that it once was. I hope that as I remain here I will meet new people and build new friendships. Until then I will keep up the fight.
I will slay orcs along the road, read the ancient texts that contain lost secrets, and entertain the lords and ladies who offer contract. I hope that the newcomers decide to remain, and that the old return.
Sincerely,
One Bored Bard
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Post by Rane on Oct 1, 2018 2:14:23 GMT -5
*posted from phone. Because i’m bored at work!*
- -Cowardly Drow Killer Continued - -
The hood yanked back and to the drow’s surprise it was filled with... mushroom stalk? The patrol leader’s eyes darted back and forth and his ears twitched as he scanned the area.
Meanwhile as the makeshift figure crumbled, several small spheres rolled out among the debris, one of them rolling straight toward the fire.
Surely this was a trap? It was set up like one, or perhaps a ruse to keep the patrol on their toes.
Several moments had passed and the patrol leader started to relax. Then one of the spheres hit the fire.. A bright light flashed filling the entire cavern. Drow in all positions recoiled and covered their eyes and then several more flashes as the other spheres united in a chain reaction.
The light was so intense that they clenched their eyes shut and covered their faces.
The patrol leader stood at the top of the hill, transfixed and covering his face as the light started to fade but it was to late. His senses where scrambled and he couldn’t get his bearings.
Next to him a soft mound if earth shifted and crumbled away. Up stood a figure who shook violently like a dog to clear himself of dirt. He was dressed in rags and tattered clothing. His face was wrapped in cloth. The only identifying features he had where his pointy and heavily pierced ears which stuck out from the mess of cloth, and his slender frame.
The elf stopped his shaking, looked around to find the recoiled drow patrol leader and gasped.
He must of seemed the fool to anyone who could see him but the thing was that no one at this moment had their eyes open. The elf quickly composed himself and with quick practiced motion he fired an arrow at one of the drow in the stalagtites, then his aim quickly shifted toward the patrol leader. An arrow whistled from his bow, the aim true but before it struck home it was cut out of the air.
The patrol leader had regained his senses.
The elf lowered his bow and in a low quivering voice said “Well, that... that’s just not fair....”
He heard several clicks from tiny hand held crossbows above and leaped backwards to narrowly avoid the tiny darts that would carry a sleeping poison.
As he came up from his roll he fired another shot.
This one narrowly missed as it sailed past the face of the patrol leader. The patrol leader looked back to watch the arrow sail across the cavern. When he looked back all he saw was a flapping cape that trailed behind the elf as he ran toward the nearest exit. It looked like the elf was crying as he turned to view the patrol leader.
Surely not?
Just as the patrol leader decided to move forward and give chase a loud explosion sounded behind him.
The arrow had collided with the cavern wall and exploded in a mighty fireball. So stunned was the patrol, that the elf had escaped.
So loud was the explosion they they never heard their foe as he screamed in terror and shouted “It’s just not fair!” As he disappeared into the vast under-dark.
*Spelling errors likely*
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