Discussion in 'Games Run By CPA Members' started by Rando, Apr 22, 2002.
**disable sig's in the RPG, please**
An elf dressed in a cloak that makes everyone look his way and smile walks in. This is Celebrandir *Elven for "The Silver Wanderer" or "The Silver Pilgrim"* He goes to the barkeep, whispers something to him, and goes up to the now empty stage, sits down on the stool, casts some magic, and begins to play his harps *Yes, harps. He cast spells to have his other 3 harps play along as 3 other parts of his song* and sings, in a voice that is like that of Heaven's choir itself, a ballad of what is happening outside the town. Celebrandir is a Bard/Sor that travels and sings about all of the great things, good and bad, happening in the outside world, and one of the better sources of outside information.
**Well, I guess the small tavern in the small town has a stage. Well I'll be...**
"Hurr, lookit tha' great pansy! <gestures toward Celebrandir> Why, back in my day mages was mages and men was men- lookit this, harps anna girly li'l voice t'boot!"
*Pally is obviously jealous of Celebrandir's pretty cloak*
Pally nudges Niril and says,
"Y'know, I useta have a mage cloak that'd knock 'at great flit's socks off 'is own feet."
Niril sits down, opens up one of the books he had been carrying, and begins reading, and siping a glass of red wine that Roderick payed for.
Niril looks toward Pally and smiles at the comment
All see that the books Niril is carrying with him are related to each colour of magic, the one he is currently reading is on Necromancy.
Ty takes the time before heading to The Dirty Hoff to stable his horse, then he joins the group for a drink before he goes to the Inn for a bath and a change of clothes. When he rejoins the group he's still wearing his mail shirt and his sword, but the armor has been cleaned up a bit, and he's wearing a tabard with a plain insignia over the chain mail now.
The sword itself catches your attention. There's a large ruby set in it's pommel, and there are runes etched into the hilt that you do not recognize. When asked, Tyresius answers that he won the sword in a card game, and he's always wondered what the runes stand for too.
"It don't matter to me one way or the other 'bout them runes though," he explains further, "either way, it's a great blade. I killed me 10 orcs with it one time, and a troll, in a great battle while I was in the service. My unit fought a red dragon once too, though that didn't turn out as well..."
When pressed, he shows the group his scars from that battle - a huge burn mark that stretches across his back and all along down the left hand side of his body. The burn appears to have healed completely, but it left nasty looking scars, especially considering his dark-colored skin.
When asked about where he did his "service" he turns quiet, and says he'd rather not talk about it...
In the meantime Dorgath is busily chowing down and throwing back ale, but still keeping a half ear open to the conversations around him.
Pally edges toward Tyresius.
"Lemme see that sword! I know a thing 'r two about runic enchantment!"
He looks intently at the runes and traces his finger along them.
"Sacred privies! They dun't make sword like this 'un anymore, that's fer sure... have you noticed that ruby glowing in battle at all? I dunno... it might not, cuz you won it in a card game as ye say. Dunno who'd put this up as a stake if it still had some power in it... One thing. I can see why it's been good to ya! These here <indicates a string of runes on the hilt> they dont need t'be charged. An' I'm a little rusty, but it looks t'me like them's runes for diamond steel. If I'm right, an' I think I am, this here blade'll cut through just about anything ye put in its path, provided you got the strength to hit hard enough!
Am I right? You'd know, you're the one 'at's used it."
*Pally looks up at Tyresius for an answer*
Niril has put down his book and has been listening intently to Pally and Tyresius' conversation.
Celebrandir finishes his song. He then walks over to the bar... and to Pally.
"I know not who you are, but please... in the future, do not make fun of a bard that was raised by a flight of silver dragons. It is unhealthy. Know this, I also know magic, as I have shown on stage. Please... leave my voice alone, and may you live in peace."
With these last words, Celebrandir walks to the barkeep and buys a weakened brandy, and as if it was a commonly asked for drink, the Barkeep delivers one to Celebrandir in seconds. He then takes a sip and sits down in a corner table.
Pally finds himself face to face with Celebrandir.
"Cor! You know I ain't meant nothin' by it, friend! I was only makin' a joke, as anyone is entitled to to liven up an evenin'!
I wouldn't cast a nasty stare like that at you if you went about pokin' fun at me, now would I?
A sense of humor'd be good fer a chap like you, keep on glowerin' at good-humored folks like that an' yer just like them damn high magicians what threw me out o' the August Academy. All big frumpy fancy clothes, big frumpy fancy magic, an' no sense o' fun in the whole of 'em. Wouldn't want a skillful lad like yourself to end up like that, eh?"
Pally smiles at Celebrandir.
"And since you were probably wonderin', no, your cloak don't work on me. Though I got to say, that's fine workmanship by the tailor! If you'd be so kind, could ya tell me where you got it?"
Pally waits for an answer.
"Well, it sure has been good to me so far, as I said before," Tyresius answers. "You thinkin' it might have some Magic about it then? That would be great."
He then calls for a serving wench, orders the catch of the day, and settles in to chow down with Dorgath.
"Shows over? Too bad. I like a little music with my meals..."
"Mmmm, mmm, good. Nice sword you got there. I used to make them and others before I got out of the blacksmithy business. But it's good to see good craftmanship."
As you all sit and drink and get to know each other, local begin to show up. One by one they enter, eye all of you, and then congregate together at thier own tables.
To Those at the Bar -
"Well strangers, a good eve to ya all. Where does the road take you?" asks the bartender.
"I can only speak for myself," says Roderick, "But I'm going on a visit to Radafel. I've heared much about that fair city, and wish to see it once before I die."
"Good" replies the barkeep. "While your there, maybe you can find out why I ain't got my shipment of fresh booze or fish in the last fortnight! In fact, I aint seen any merchants heading east out of Radafel for nearly three weeks."
To those at tables -
The local leave you all alone for the most part, but every once in a while you catch a glimpse of a farmer or miller staring you down and then quickly looking away when he sees that you've noticed.
To Dorgath -
You hear a local speaking to one of his friends, "Been a lot of strangers in town the past month or so. These don't seem to be in cahoots with that last pair. Gave me a case of the fantods, those two did." Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the man shudder.
Niril walks over to Celebrandir
"Raised by Silver Dragons eh. How might one of elven heritage be raised by Silver Dragons? If you don't mind me asking."
To Niril -
"Sounds like poppy-**** boasting to me." says the bartender. "Dragons! Hmph!"
**AND NO SIGS PLEASE**
"Excuse me, Tyresius."
I head on over to the local.
"Pardon me, I don't mean to intrude, but what kind of strangers have been passing through here? And what was it about the last two that discomforted you?"
To Dorgath -
You startle the man when you approach. He obviously did not wish to speak to you, just about you. He is a middle-aged gent with a weathered face and gruff beared.
"Well...I ...It's just that there's been more strangers in town the past month or so then in all the years I've been livin 'ere. They all keep to themselves, some stay the night, most not. All heading west to Radafel they are, but not returning. In fact, I aint seen no one heading back up that road for the longest. Not traveler nor herald nor merchant.
"And as for the two ya heared me speak of, they was the last to go through. Two weeks ago, they did. Over 'cross th' street at Muckwater's. One tall, the other short, both in grey and carin' black walkin' sticks. They didn't speak to no one, just plopped money down for a room and went upstairs. Barkeep said he didn't even see 'em leave da next day. They didn't make no threatening moves or nothin of the like...but they was frightnin' none th' less."
"Thank you, neighbor. Allow me to buy your table's next round of drinks as a thank you."
I head on over to Roderick.
"Say, I was talking with a fellow over there, and he mentioned that there hasn't been any foot traffic coming from Radafel for quite some time now. Quite unusual, he said. If you don't mind, I'd like to accompany you to see if there's a problem of some sort."
Celebrnadir starts to explain his story to Pally and Niril.
"Yes I do have a sense of humor, but I think it would not be like yours. My story begins when I was 50 years old, only a youngen for we elves. Anyway... when I was 50, my village was attack by Black and Green dragons. A flight of Silver dragons fought them off, but my village was totally destroyed. I alone survived. The dragons asked me to teach them to sing like me, and in return they would take me in, care for me, and treat me as one of them... excluding the fact that I couldn't do some of the things they could and visa versa. When I was 110, they asked me to go on and see if I could live on my own and gave me gifts from the treasury they have collected over the last 7000 years. I used the gifts to learn more about the world, buy the equipment I needed to be successful, and to make a name for myself. I have perfomed for many different crowds, including the everyone from the poor and homeless to Kings and Queens. So, as I have said, I was raised my silver dragons. May I hear your story?"
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