Background for investigative reporter [Archive] - Wizards Community

Background for investigative reporter [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Trydan
07-29-03, 06:13 AM Here is my background for Taq l'Endin (Chaotic-Neutral, Human, Rogue.2/Bard.4). He's a reporter, who works for one of the town-crier's guilds.

Imagine a gaunt fellow who drinks too much hot roasted-Efac-bean drink during the day, and too many shot glasses of aquivi in the evenings. He's not the singing sort, but more the dark-stories and hard-hitting facts. He's seen it all, and is not phased. He'll happily watch a mugging taking place and stand by the bleeding victims, taking notes for the "criers", while waiting for the town guard to turn up. He digs dirt on local merchants, and petty nobles, and is generous with his coin to make sure he gets the saga first. Always talks to his parchment rather than others.

NPC: "So, Mister, you were out last night... did you see the murder?"
Taq: "Tuesday, afternoon... my contact, asks me whether I saw the murder. Neither of us are going anywhere... I decide to shrug my shoulders." (shrug shoulders)

This is investigative-town-crying. The "parchmentazzi" are notoriously ruthless, when it comes to getting a good story - whether true or not. It is what sells, and who pays the crier, gets the best press.

Rival town-crier guilds have been know to stage local wars against each other, and our gaunt fellow here has been in the thick of it. Nothing quite like "taking out" your opponents news with a little fire and lightning.

Think this is gutter press? Forget it... sink another level lower. This is sewer press. A whole labyrinth of plot, intrigue and foul dealings. Anything for a good story.

Worried about the thieves guild in the city? Sure... they'll send you to hell. But the bards of the town-criers' guilds... oh, they're much worse. They'll make you live hell, on every street corner, on every square. Hear ye, hear ye.

So. Any ideas/comments/suggestions?
Campeador
07-30-03, 07:53 AM I like it. I like it a lot even. Very good potential. Be sure to have intimidate and bluff high. Will he be interviewing as well btw? or just standing on the sidewalk taking notes? The feat Track would aid you as well, in following certain notorious individuals. But very nice concept....
Friar Tuck
07-30-03, 03:25 PM Nice;) ;) ;) ;)
Mysteris
07-31-03, 08:20 AM Great concept! The first hard-hitting, investigative reporter (or tabloid journalist). :)

Question: Are these guilds well-known on the streets? I was just thinking that it might be difficult for him to get the stories if people can recognize him or his guild. You might want to look at some good disguises.
Trydan
08-31-03, 01:37 PM Instead of writing character histories, sometimes our group writes "vignettes" --- a snippet of the life of the character that helps convey the style, attitude and characteristics of the character. Well, my investigative reporter now has a name Taq l'Endin and I've posted the vignette in case anyone was interested.

Note: A few items that are from our Campaign.
Temwum - The capital city, where Taq lives
Dersenport - Another port city, to the east
Royal Themwun Academy - the wizard's school/guild/institute
Efac - The name in our campaign for coffee.
l'Endin - An orcish name. Pure coincidence that Taq has it as a surname; Taq is human.
If there are any others that are not clear, then let me know!

* * * * *

CHARACTER VIGNETTE --- TAQ L'ENDIN

On a cobble-stoned corner at the intersection of the meandering streets of the quieter parts of Themwun, there stands a tall building, with whitewashed walls and blackened external timber beams. The gentle breeze causes the worn shop-sign above the open doorway to sway gently, squeaking out for a little oil. The sign reads: "Rauen's Books". Inside, sits an elderly man, in expensive, but worn clothes, quietly updating the shop's accounts-ledger. About him are numerous shelves with dusty tomes, small treatises and sets of volumes of dull history.

It is an odd shop, but the few scholars that pass by and the occasional noble keep the place ticking over and the trade in works bought and sold are sufficient to allow the doors to stay open. In the small living area at the back of the shop, he can hear his wife cooking the midday meal and overhead the steps of his daughter knocking on the wooden floor.

Occasionally, Mr Rauen would breath in deeply, pause, then breath out as if sighing. He nodded his head thoughtfully. Something with onions and mushrooms today, he thought. Good.

On the next floor, his daughter, Stefhanna also breathed in deeply, paused, then breathed out. A sigh.

Stefhanna was a young woman, perhaps early twenties or so, neatly dressed in the conservative midnight blue of her faculty, for she was studying at the Royal Themwun Academy. Her staff was leaning against the wall beside her small table, and her satchel was packed with her spell-book, quills, parchment and a few empty potion bottles that were not much good, but that she was loathe to throw out.

She sat and stared wistfully out of the open window, the little diamond-panes of glass catching the morning sun, and casting dappled patterns across the room. The crisp morning air flowed into the room, softly brushed her pretty face and tugged gently at her long light-brown hair.

Somewhere in the distance, a door opened.

Immediately Stefhanna started. She quietly got up, smoothed her long dark dress with her hands, flicked at her hair to straighten it, but not overly so and glanced in the mirror on the wall. Then, grabbing her satchel and staff, she moved swiftly to the top of the stairs at the far side of the room. There she paused, and looked down, listening intently.

The sound of footsteps could be heard on stone, then... on timber. Yes, now! Stefhanna set off down the steps and where they reached the ground floor, she came face to face with a man, who was on his way up from the steps that came from the cellar.

Stefhanna feigned surprise.

"Oh, hello Taq!", she said with a smile that was brighter that the morning sunshine outside.

The man blinked up at the young woman. He was average height, but was quite thin, which made him look taller. His close-fitting green shirt made him look even thinner. Green was his favourite colour. His face was a bit drawn, although not overly so, clean-shaven and a few long wisps of thin hair hung down about the sides of his face --- the rest of his hair was tied back in a low pony-tail.

In reality, he was only months her senior, but he looked years older. A tough working schedule, too much drink and very late nights had done that. He blearily tried to wake up to face this onslaught of cheerful energy. He looked back at Stefhanna?s bright eyes...

Now what had the girl said? he thought to himself, struggling to come to grips with waking-life. Oh yeah... my name. Taq. Taq l'Endin, in fact. Er... yeah. And no, it's not... it only sounds orcish. No, I wasn't born in an orc-camp, I was born somewhere in Themwun, not sure where. Grew up in so many street corners and alleys that the entire city seems like home now.

But what was it she had said... ah, that's right, it was like... "Hello, Taq". I suppose I'd better reply.

He blinked back at her, brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes and muttered... "Hello."

Stefhanna's heart skipped a beat. Taq blinked again, then turned into the kitchen. The young woman followed him like his shadow.

A middle aged lady looked up from a bubbling cauldron and wiped her hands on a grimy apron. She wrinkled her eyes and peered at the arrivals.

"Ah, Mister l'Endin. Good Morning. And I s'pose I can say good morning to ye still, although it's a near thing. Still, I 'ent yet 'eard the noonbells. Here, ye'll be wanting a bit of this stew; it'll do you a world of good, ye know, and..."

The voice babbled on. Taq ignored it. The voice in my own head is bad enough, he thought to himself. He peered at the pot and screwed up his nose.

He then looked at the neighbouring cauldron and sighed with relief when he found the water boiling. He took his ceramic cup, dipped it into the water and pulled it out, filled and steaming. Then he reached into a pocket and drew out a small cloth bag, the knot of which he struggled to undo with his shaking fingers. Once opened, he poured a good amount of the dark brown powder within into the cup, and with the handle of a spoon, he stirred it briskly. Then he sat by the fire, sniffed the pungent aroma and began to sip. Ahh... that's better, he thought.

Mrs Rauen was still prattling.

"... and then there's some mushrooms and some thyme, but there's no sausage left, but we'll be getting more in tomorrow."

She reached for a bowl, and held it and a ladlefull of stew poised ready.

"Now, how much'll ye be a wanting, Mister l'Endin?"

Er... was that aimed at me? thought Taq. Eww... there's no way I could stomach that. I've got my breakfast already, and I'm sipping it right here, you know. Er... hmm... better say something.

"Er... no. No, thank you... Mrs Rauen." He said, then sipped his beverage again. It was Efacbean, of course. Strong and powerful (especially in the strengths that he took it). It had come all the way from Avendi, Skandi and other such exotic locations, brought by pirates most likely. It was hard to find in Themwun, but Taq had his contacts.

Mrs Rauen was shaking her head.

"Ye'll be wasting away if ye don't eat!", she threw up her hands. "These tenants, you know. Food and lodgings is what the silver pays for, but if ye'll not be eating, then I canna be forcing ye."

Taq looked up and smiled a wry smile.

From the doorway, Stefhanna gazed at him, but Taq didn't notice. Those roasted Efac-beans were starting to cut in, and he was already thinking about the day's work.

It was a tough job, but Taq derived a cool satisfaction, and a hefty gold-pouch, from it. He was a reporter for the different town-crier guilds. A freelance reporter. No affiliation with any one guild, so despised by all of them. Yet, if you can get the stories, they'll pay anyway. Taq pondered over the day ahead.

Right, I'll finish my Efac, then back downstairs to finish off the Dartilla story. Then I'll call in at the Corner-Crier's Guild and see what they offer me for it. It was an easy piece, so I'll probably settle on the standard rate, so as to get out of there quickly. There's nothing worse than their haggling. Hmm... maybe Mrs Rauen's ceaseless chatter is worse, but it's a near thing. Taq smiled to himself. Anyway, my strong point is interviewing, not haggling. Although some would call Taq's style of interviewing, interrogation. Taq took another sip from his cup. Mrs Rauen was talking to her daughter now. An independent observer would come to the conclusion that Stefhanna was paying about as much attention to her mother as Taq was. And then I'll be out after the Ackerrun Merchants. Taq was musing to himself again. I'd better make a plan for that. I don't want to be unprepared on that one, as I'll only really have one shot at it. And once they get wind that the Criers want the low-down on their transactions at Dersenport, they'll surely clam up. Of course, all this is assuming that there are no murders today. Taq shook his head.

Over the past few days there'd been a number of murders in the Foreign Quarter, and Taq had been perfectly placed to get the full "first-hander". On Tuesday, he'd even caught the end of a brutal mugging, and had managed to get there in time to get a statement from one of the victims --- a young boy --- before loss of blood caused the unfortunate child to fall unconscious. So Taq stood there, making a sketch of the scene on a piece of parchment and writing down graphic adjectives on the back of it, so as he'd remember the inspiration when it came time to write it all up that evening for the next day's Royal report --- town-criers by appointment, most lucrative!

His dingy, pokey little room, down in the cellar of "Rauen's Books" was strewn with such scraps of parchment. Some in piles, others scrunched up into balls and thrown into corners, amongst the empty bottles of strong spirits that Taq would hit at the end of the night, drinking himself to sleep. Or at least numbing the brain ready for the next gruesome day.

Mr Rauen would shudder to think at the amount of parchment Taq abused, but Taq had the gold, and the stories were the expensive parts of what he did, not the materials. Anyway, the Rauens never came downstairs.

If they did, I'd sure have to clean up, Taq chuckled to himself. He was now thinking about his write-up for the day, having planned as much of his afternoon and evening as he ever could with a job like his.

"Taq?"

The sound of his name made him look up. Stefhanna was looking at him. Taq shook his head, as if to clear it.

"Er... sorry?", he stammered.

Stefhanna smiled at him. "I said, Taq, that I was going past the markets today anyway," she lied "and that if you wanted anything, I could get it for you."

Taq pondered. Well, he needed some more Efac beans, but they wouldn't be the sorts of markets that the girl would go to. Taq shook his head.

"Er... no. No. But... thank you. It's sweet of you offer."

Stefhanna's smile twinged slightly. She was disappointed that she couldn't get anything for him, but he did say she was sweet. Her heart fluttered.

She gathered her satchel and staff and kissed her mother on the cheek before leaving the room. As she walked past, she stopped for but a second and looked at Taq.

But Taq was deep in thought. He was considering on how he'd describe last night's fire in the Docks area. A preliminary report had already gone into the High-Town Guild, but he wanted a more detailed piece for this evening.

Yes. How about something like: "The fire raged like a wounded dragon, thrashing its tail through the gutted buildings which spewed smoke and rancid vapours from the inferno, like the caustic volcanic lava, spraying from the caldera and burning the flesh of the helpless victims trapped screaming in the searing heat." He smiled. There were no victims; the place was deserted, but it made for a better story.

Just then, he looked up to see Stefhanna still there looking down at him.

"Bye, Taq," she said, timidly.

"Er, bye," said Taq, still smiling from his thoughts over the arson report.

Stefhanna, left the room, light headed and hugging her staff and satchel close to her heart, as if it was something, or someone, else. In the next room she said a brief goodbye to her father, and then her footsteps were heard on the cobbles outside, fading amongst the noises of the city street as she walked down to the Academy.

Taq went back to his dark thoughts about his report. Then, suddenly nodding to himself with an evil grin about some new line on the story, he threw back his head and drained the rest of the now-cold Efac from his cup. He got up, muttered something about being late this evening to Mrs Rauen and went back downstairs to get his things.

* * * * *
Trydan
10-17-03, 01:17 PM For anyone interested, more about intrepid reporter Taq l'Endin can be found in the post Fantasy world newspaper/newsparchment (http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=116723), where his story from the lsat campaign is written up as a newspaper article.

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Trydan 07-29-03, 06:13 AM	Here is my background for Taq l'Endin (Chaotic-Neutral, Human, Rogue.2/Bard.4). He's a reporter, who works for one of the town-crier's guilds. Imagine a gaunt fellow who drinks too much hot roasted-Efac-bean drink during the day, and too many shot glasses of aquivi in the evenings. He's not the singing sort, but more the dark-stories and hard-hitting facts. He's seen it all, and is not phased. He'll happily watch a mugging taking place and stand by the bleeding victims, taking notes for the "criers", while waiting for the town guard to turn up. He digs dirt on local merchants, and petty nobles, and is generous with his coin to make sure he gets the saga first. Always talks to his parchment rather than others. NPC: "So, Mister, you were out last night... did you see the murder?" Taq: "Tuesday, afternoon... my contact, asks me whether I saw the murder. Neither of us are going anywhere... I decide to shrug my shoulders." (shrug shoulders) This is investigative-town-crying. The "parchmentazzi" are notoriously ruthless, when it comes to getting a good story - whether true or not. It is what sells, and who pays the crier, gets the best press. Rival town-crier guilds have been know to stage local wars against each other, and our gaunt fellow here has been in the thick of it. Nothing quite like "taking out" your opponents news with a little fire and lightning. Think this is gutter press? Forget it... sink another level lower. This is sewer press. A whole labyrinth of plot, intrigue and foul dealings. Anything for a good story. Worried about the thieves guild in the city? Sure... they'll send you to hell. But the bards of the town-criers' guilds... oh, they're much worse. They'll make you live hell, on every street corner, on every square. Hear ye, hear ye. So. Any ideas/comments/suggestions?
Campeador 07-30-03, 07:53 AM	I like it. I like it a lot even. Very good potential. Be sure to have intimidate and bluff high. Will he be interviewing as well btw? or just standing on the sidewalk taking notes? The feat Track would aid you as well, in following certain notorious individuals. But very nice concept....
Friar Tuck 07-30-03, 03:25 PM	Nice;) ;) ;) ;)
Mysteris 07-31-03, 08:20 AM	Great concept! The first hard-hitting, investigative reporter (or tabloid journalist). :) Question: Are these guilds well-known on the streets? I was just thinking that it might be difficult for him to get the stories if people can recognize him or his guild. You might want to look at some good disguises.
Trydan 08-31-03, 01:37 PM	Instead of writing character histories, sometimes our group writes "vignettes" --- a snippet of the life of the character that helps convey the style, attitude and characteristics of the character. Well, my investigative reporter now has a name Taq l'Endin and I've posted the vignette in case anyone was interested. Note: A few items that are from our Campaign. Temwum - The capital city, where Taq lives Dersenport - Another port city, to the east Royal Themwun Academy - the wizard's school/guild/institute Efac - The name in our campaign for coffee. l'Endin - An orcish name. Pure coincidence that Taq has it as a surname; Taq is human. If there are any others that are not clear, then let me know! * * * * * CHARACTER VIGNETTE --- TAQ L'ENDIN On a cobble-stoned corner at the intersection of the meandering streets of the quieter parts of Themwun, there stands a tall building, with whitewashed walls and blackened external timber beams. The gentle breeze causes the worn shop-sign above the open doorway to sway gently, squeaking out for a little oil. The sign reads: "Rauen's Books". Inside, sits an elderly man, in expensive, but worn clothes, quietly updating the shop's accounts-ledger. About him are numerous shelves with dusty tomes, small treatises and sets of volumes of dull history. It is an odd shop, but the few scholars that pass by and the occasional noble keep the place ticking over and the trade in works bought and sold are sufficient to allow the doors to stay open. In the small living area at the back of the shop, he can hear his wife cooking the midday meal and overhead the steps of his daughter knocking on the wooden floor. Occasionally, Mr Rauen would breath in deeply, pause, then breath out as if sighing. He nodded his head thoughtfully. Something with onions and mushrooms today, he thought. Good. On the next floor, his daughter, Stefhanna also breathed in deeply, paused, then breathed out. A sigh. Stefhanna was a young woman, perhaps early twenties or so, neatly dressed in the conservative midnight blue of her faculty, for she was studying at the Royal Themwun Academy. Her staff was leaning against the wall beside her small table, and her satchel was packed with her spell-book, quills, parchment and a few empty potion bottles that were not much good, but that she was loathe to throw out. She sat and stared wistfully out of the open window, the little diamond-panes of glass catching the morning sun, and casting dappled patterns across the room. The crisp morning air flowed into the room, softly brushed her pretty face and tugged gently at her long light-brown hair. Somewhere in the distance, a door opened. Immediately Stefhanna started. She quietly got up, smoothed her long dark dress with her hands, flicked at her hair to straighten it, but not overly so and glanced in the mirror on the wall. Then, grabbing her satchel and staff, she moved swiftly to the top of the stairs at the far side of the room. There she paused, and looked down, listening intently. The sound of footsteps could be heard on stone, then... on timber. Yes, now! Stefhanna set off down the steps and where they reached the ground floor, she came face to face with a man, who was on his way up from the steps that came from the cellar. Stefhanna feigned surprise. "Oh, hello Taq!", she said with a smile that was brighter that the morning sunshine outside. The man blinked up at the young woman. He was average height, but was quite thin, which made him look taller. His close-fitting green shirt made him look even thinner. Green was his favourite colour. His face was a bit drawn, although not overly so, clean-shaven and a few long wisps of thin hair hung down about the sides of his face --- the rest of his hair was tied back in a low pony-tail. In reality, he was only months her senior, but he looked years older. A tough working schedule, too much drink and very late nights had done that. He blearily tried to wake up to face this onslaught of cheerful energy. He looked back at Stefhanna?s bright eyes... Now what had the girl said? he thought to himself, struggling to come to grips with waking-life. Oh yeah... my name. Taq. Taq l'Endin, in fact. Er... yeah. And no, it's not... it only sounds orcish. No, I wasn't born in an orc-camp, I was born somewhere in Themwun, not sure where. Grew up in so many street corners and alleys that the entire city seems like home now. But what was it she had said... ah, that's right, it was like... "Hello, Taq". I suppose I'd better reply. He blinked back at her, brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes and muttered... "Hello." Stefhanna's heart skipped a beat. Taq blinked again, then turned into the kitchen. The young woman followed him like his shadow. A middle aged lady looked up from a bubbling cauldron and wiped her hands on a grimy apron. She wrinkled her eyes and peered at the arrivals. "Ah, Mister l'Endin. Good Morning. And I s'pose I can say good morning to ye still, although it's a near thing. Still, I 'ent yet 'eard the noonbells. Here, ye'll be wanting a bit of this stew; it'll do you a world of good, ye know, and..." The voice babbled on. Taq ignored it. The voice in my own head is bad enough, he thought to himself. He peered at the pot and screwed up his nose. He then looked at the neighbouring cauldron and sighed with relief when he found the water boiling. He took his ceramic cup, dipped it into the water and pulled it out, filled and steaming. Then he reached into a pocket and drew out a small cloth bag, the knot of which he struggled to undo with his shaking fingers. Once opened, he poured a good amount of the dark brown powder within into the cup, and with the handle of a spoon, he stirred it briskly. Then he sat by the fire, sniffed the pungent aroma and began to sip. Ahh... that's better, he thought. Mrs Rauen was still prattling. "... and then there's some mushrooms and some thyme, but there's no sausage left, but we'll be getting more in tomorrow." She reached for a bowl, and held it and a ladlefull of stew poised ready. "Now, how much'll ye be a wanting, Mister l'Endin?" Er... was that aimed at me? thought Taq. Eww... there's no way I could stomach that. I've got my breakfast already, and I'm sipping it right here, you know. Er... hmm... better say something. "Er... no. No, thank you... Mrs Rauen." He said, then sipped his beverage again. It was Efacbean, of course. Strong and powerful (especially in the strengths that he took it). It had come all the way from Avendi, Skandi and other such exotic locations, brought by pirates most likely. It was hard to find in Themwun, but Taq had his contacts. Mrs Rauen was shaking her head. "Ye'll be wasting away if ye don't eat!", she threw up her hands. "These tenants, you know. Food and lodgings is what the silver pays for, but if ye'll not be eating, then I canna be forcing ye." Taq looked up and smiled a wry smile. From the doorway, Stefhanna gazed at him, but Taq didn't notice. Those roasted Efac-beans were starting to cut in, and he was already thinking about the day's work. It was a tough job, but Taq derived a cool satisfaction, and a hefty gold-pouch, from it. He was a reporter for the different town-crier guilds. A freelance reporter. No affiliation with any one guild, so despised by all of them. Yet, if you can get the stories, they'll pay anyway. Taq pondered over the day ahead. Right, I'll finish my Efac, then back downstairs to finish off the Dartilla story. Then I'll call in at the Corner-Crier's Guild and see what they offer me for it. It was an easy piece, so I'll probably settle on the standard rate, so as to get out of there quickly. There's nothing worse than their haggling. Hmm... maybe Mrs Rauen's ceaseless chatter is worse, but it's a near thing. Taq smiled to himself. Anyway, my strong point is interviewing, not haggling. Although some would call Taq's style of interviewing, interrogation. Taq took another sip from his cup. Mrs Rauen was talking to her daughter now. An independent observer would come to the conclusion that Stefhanna was paying about as much attention to her mother as Taq was. And then I'll be out after the Ackerrun Merchants. Taq was musing to himself again. I'd better make a plan for that. I don't want to be unprepared on that one, as I'll only really have one shot at it. And once they get wind that the Criers want the low-down on their transactions at Dersenport, they'll surely clam up. Of course, all this is assuming that there are no murders today. Taq shook his head. Over the past few days there'd been a number of murders in the Foreign Quarter, and Taq had been perfectly placed to get the full "first-hander". On Tuesday, he'd even caught the end of a brutal mugging, and had managed to get there in time to get a statement from one of the victims --- a young boy --- before loss of blood caused the unfortunate child to fall unconscious. So Taq stood there, making a sketch of the scene on a piece of parchment and writing down graphic adjectives on the back of it, so as he'd remember the inspiration when it came time to write it all up that evening for the next day's Royal report --- town-criers by appointment, most lucrative! His dingy, pokey little room, down in the cellar of "Rauen's Books" was strewn with such scraps of parchment. Some in piles, others scrunched up into balls and thrown into corners, amongst the empty bottles of strong spirits that Taq would hit at the end of the night, drinking himself to sleep. Or at least numbing the brain ready for the next gruesome day. Mr Rauen would shudder to think at the amount of parchment Taq abused, but Taq had the gold, and the stories were the expensive parts of what he did, not the materials. Anyway, the Rauens never came downstairs. If they did, I'd sure have to clean up, Taq chuckled to himself. He was now thinking about his write-up for the day, having planned as much of his afternoon and evening as he ever could with a job like his. "Taq?" The sound of his name made him look up. Stefhanna was looking at him. Taq shook his head, as if to clear it. "Er... sorry?", he stammered. Stefhanna smiled at him. "I said, Taq, that I was going past the markets today anyway," she lied "and that if you wanted anything, I could get it for you." Taq pondered. Well, he needed some more Efac beans, but they wouldn't be the sorts of markets that the girl would go to. Taq shook his head. "Er... no. No. But... thank you. It's sweet of you offer." Stefhanna's smile twinged slightly. She was disappointed that she couldn't get anything for him, but he did say she was sweet. Her heart fluttered. She gathered her satchel and staff and kissed her mother on the cheek before leaving the room. As she walked past, she stopped for but a second and looked at Taq. But Taq was deep in thought. He was considering on how he'd describe last night's fire in the Docks area. A preliminary report had already gone into the High-Town Guild, but he wanted a more detailed piece for this evening. Yes. How about something like: "The fire raged like a wounded dragon, thrashing its tail through the gutted buildings which spewed smoke and rancid vapours from the inferno, like the caustic volcanic lava, spraying from the caldera and burning the flesh of the helpless victims trapped screaming in the searing heat." He smiled. There were no victims; the place was deserted, but it made for a better story. Just then, he looked up to see Stefhanna still there looking down at him. "Bye, Taq," she said, timidly. "Er, bye," said Taq, still smiling from his thoughts over the arson report. Stefhanna, left the room, light headed and hugging her staff and satchel close to her heart, as if it was something, or someone, else. In the next room she said a brief goodbye to her father, and then her footsteps were heard on the cobbles outside, fading amongst the noises of the city street as she walked down to the Academy. Taq went back to his dark thoughts about his report. Then, suddenly nodding to himself with an evil grin about some new line on the story, he threw back his head and drained the rest of the now-cold Efac from his cup. He got up, muttered something about being late this evening to Mrs Rauen and went back downstairs to get his things. * * * * *
Trydan 10-17-03, 01:17 PM	For anyone interested, more about intrepid reporter Taq l'Endin can be found in the post Fantasy world newspaper/newsparchment (http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=116723), where his story from the lsat campaign is written up as a newspaper article.