Further down at the end of the street, a game of rock throwing starts. A few dozen halfling men take turns tossing rocks at a target that is moved back ten feet after everyone has thrown. A few observerrs cheer and jeer as the competition continues.
A few minstrels park themselves at unoccupied corners and start singing and playing. Circles of dancers soon surround them.
A large scowling half orc drives a cart filled with kegs of ale to the center of the area, and a middle aged halfling with a thick accent taps the first one and hands out drinks to the rapidily gathering partygoers. ""No pushin! Thar's enough fer everyone me boyos!"
An old human male matches Grack's scowl. "There hads better be. I didn'ts come into this pit just ta show you all up in the archery contest." He pushes a very large mug at Marroc for a refill.
Children rush around, tossing balls and spinning hoops. Groups of gossipers gather, trying to be the first to spread the news that the guest of honor have arrived.
***********************************************
This thread takes place outside of normal time. You can post in here and go about you usual daily buisness in the other threads. Provided you aren't out of town before or during when it should be taking place. (Sorry Threfdil, you are the only halfling that ain't invited. ;) )
There will be an archery contest taking place in it, so if you are interested in showing off your mad misle skills write yourself into this thread. There is a undetermined prize for the winner.
Hermy shrugs. "So much fer them stayin alert, right dad? Don'ts worry though, I'll keeps an eye on... Hey! Where are you going?"
Hermy starts chasing after his dad who is running towards Mrs. Toadfoots house.
Kywyn almost runs into a trio of halfling youths, skidding to avoid tripping over them.
“Oi!”
Kywyn recognizes two of the halflings as the kids he met in the Shady Tree tavern before while investigating the Mindfire disease.
“Dorille Bristlebor, right?”
The youth nods pleasantly, “You entering the archery contest? If you could do that same shot with the darts again...”
Kywyn remembers using his divining sight to land his dart in the butt of Dorille’s bull’s eye shot while gathering information.
“That was a bit of a trick... Guessing it wouldn’t be nice to cheat here at Hermy’s party.”
“I’m so-so with a crossbow... Little chance, though maybe I could enter for fun,” Kywyn thinks to himself, ”If they even allow such weapons. Have to look into the details”
“Take care,” he says to the youths as he spots Hermy Sr.
With wrapped and framed portrait under his arm, Kywyn walks forward slowly.
.oO(Not yet at least. Wait till everyone's arrived then have a chat with the musicians.... I might actually be able to do alright with the archery contest as well.)
The theif makes his way to the competition.
Today he is not a Jackal commander, all duties he has delegated elsewhere. In fact if you did not know who Darkar was you would think he was an ordinary person. His old traveling outfit black shirt and pants still fits quiet well, although he probably should have aired it out a bit more before wearing it. There is a faint smell of dust if anyone brushes up against the elf.
Also there is the fact that he is quiet excited about the fact of competing in the archery contest that he heard rumors about just last night. Not know what to expect he brought two quivers of arrows, and both his short and longbow.
It is a strange sight to behold especially since Darkar is also carrying the finest bottle of elven wine that was available to purchase from the Eastgate Inn. True be told Darkar feels a little silly carrying the bows, and the wine all at once.
Looking about the halfling quarter seeing everyone running about playing. Kywyn and NaShae are easy enough to spot, and apparently Kwywn sees someone he recognizes as he moves in a different direction. Straining to look Darkar tries to see if it is Hermy.
Darkar is not quiet sure who Kywyn is moving towards, but he does manage to spot Hermy or more acurately his red pants as the crowd parts for a moment. Being mindful of others, Darkar moves carefully to his friend.
I must ask him about his father too, I was under the impression that his parents had both passed away. It must have been a mistake of mine, by not understanding what he said.
The red panted Woodhome shakes his head and shrugs in Kywyns direction before taking off running into the crowd.
Through the noise of the gathering crowd and distant musicians, the light-clad man slips through the throngs until he has a clear path.
Hey!! watch where yeras goinnzz! The drunk man yells over his shoulder.
Shaking his head, Kai returns his attention towards his path. After neadering his way a few more yards, the elf's eyes catch a familiar face in the crowd. As Kywyn passes by, he narrows his eyes and watches him make his way through.
.oO( I didn't think he would attend something like this, ofcourse neither would I and here I am...)
Kai's mood darkens when he losses sight of Kywyn. Finally with another shake, Kai moves along. When he finds Lucian walking towards the contest, he moves beside him, matching his pace.
There's too much people here...
"I know how you feel, These aren't the best environments but the work is good."
Lucian stops when he reaches the archery contest ring, looking down at his crossbow with a small deal of intrest.
"Why don't you join as well? It doesn't matter if you win or not."
Sure...not there's anything else better to do.
"Ye know Aramil that it is polite to show up on time ter things like this."
"Showing up on time ter a Party! What kinda nonsence is that?"
"It isn't nonsence its called respect, and I'd like fer ye ter show some more often now that I'm around."
"Ye always were yer dad's son...."
*Aramil rolls his eyes, and draws a chuckle out of Oskar, whom pats Aramil on the back. The two brothers make there way to the food table and grab a bite to eat. Then Aramil hears about the archery contest.
"Hey we both need ter enter into this thing! It would be loads of fun."
*Oskar frowns and shakes his head.
"You go ahead, I was never one to show off my skills at anything. I'd rather show them off when they are needed, like in battle."
"Suit yerself, party pooper....."
*Wtih that Aramil leaves Oskar to talk with whomever he wants to. Aramil makes his way over to the Archery range where Kai and Lucain wait. He quickly signs up, then he slings his bow and checks his arrows. After that he talks to both Lucian and Kai.
"Good day ter the both of ye. So I take it that ye are going ter try in this contest? Well I wish ye both best of luck."
*Aramil bows slightly to the both of them when he is done. Then he gives a quick glance to where Oskar is sitting and talking to some gnomes and an odd looking dwarf. Aramil just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, then he gets back to talking with Lucian and Kai.
Darkar thinks he sees a familar face, but a mask is covering most of the face. Is it Kai? The last time he saw the elf was at the Church of Demmion, and it was a bit confusing meeting with Anaya pleading with Kai. However before he can find out exactly Kai and the half-elf he is with move away back into the noisy crowd.
Stepping up to the table Darkar signs up for the contest and starts to make inquiries about the rules, and goals of the contest.
"Thanks, it looks like the competition is pretty steep this year."
His eyes dart over to a white-haired elf in a black outfit.
.oO (I'm in against two full blooded elves and a dwarf! I'm a little out of my league here, but the mother favours the bold.)
"It's been a long time, friend. How've you been"
"Yes it has been a long time. I'm doin great if I'd say so meself, how have ye been doin?"
*Aramil keeps his eyes mostly on Lucian as he talks but he cannont help from looking around in the crowd as he converses.
"Hello Aramil, it has been awhile, are you doing well today?"
.oO(We've met before...Dorkar was it...maybe Drakar.)
"Very well indeed. Busy, but you know how that is."
The youth offers a hand to the newly arrived elf.
"Lucian. Nice to meet you."
"Well met Lucian, I am Darkar Shadowood. I saw that you and your friend there sign up for the archery contest. I am looking forward to the competition, and I have even heard rumors that Hermy is going to compete too. Looks like some difficult competition is ahead."
"In that company I'm a little out of place, but I'll try to do my best."
He spys a dwarf with Aramil.
"Goodday sir, My name's Lucian. Nice to meet you."
"I told ye ter stop sneakin up on me like that."
*Oskar punches his brother in the arm and then laughs. Aramil shakes his head and introduces his brother to the group.
"Well I bet ye are wonderin who this is... He's me brudder Oskar Dunskar, though most would say he's my twin."
*The two brothers look at each other when Aramil is done talking and laugh, leaveing the others to wonder just what they are laughing about. Then Aramil introduces Oskar to Lucian, Kai, and Darkar.
"Well Oskar, here is some people that ye ought to get ter know, this is Lucian, that over there is Kai, and this here is Darkar."
*Aramil points to each of them in turn, and Oskar bows to them when Aramil does point to them.
"A pleasure. What brings you to Garic's?"
"What are ye laughin about ye fat oaf!"
*Oskar takes a while to stop laughing then replies still chuckling as he talks.
"Its just the fact that ye helped others is hard ter believe when ye were so lazy back home."
*Aramil shakes his head and replies.
"Well fer yer information, when I left the kingdom, I changed a great deal. I like ter help others out when I can."
*Oskar looks at his brother confusingly then when he realizes that Aramil is speaking the truth he bows in appology.
"I am sorry, I see now that you have indeed changed, and that is good. I respect this fact."
*Oskar bows to Aramil then he turns his attention to Lucian who had a concerned look on his face.
"Well I came here to check up on me younger brudder, it has been a while since we've last seen him and we wanted ter check up on him. Adn now that I've seen him I can tell that he is doing a fine job. I may stay here for quite some time meself. Though I don't know if dad would like that, would he Aramil?"
"Well with ye bein the family cleric, I think not, but who know's dad may change his mind..."
*The brothers look at each other when Aramil finishes his sentence and laugh, because they both know that their father is a very stubborn dwarf. When they calm down they go back to talking with Lucain and Darkar.
"Anyone know much about Hermy's father? I was under the impression from Hermy that both of his parents were dead?"
"So many people..."
"Heya Kywyn. Sorrys about running offs likes that before, but Dads kinda excited abouts seeing his old friends."
"An Ise tryin ta keeps an eye on him."
"You know, in case theres trouble."
He glances around the crowd again. "Are ya enjoyin the party?"
Oh, look, Gamis, a frybread booth!
Perry! Wait...
She sighs.
Well, maybe he won't get into too much trouble.
"I just wanted to give you this."
The man hands the halfling a wrapped frame. The wooden weight feels light for its size.
"It's a gift for your father... well, for both of you."
.oO (I don't suppose I could get Kai to lighten up. At all. Even a little bit. Well, maybe.)
Turning back to the dwarves, Lucian smiles.
"If Oskar's here for the archery as well, I'm sunk!"
"We'll even provide the bows for anyone who doesn't have one of their own, the cometitions open toi everyone after all, even those who've never touched a weapon before, though I doubt they'll have much hope of winning."
He points towards the targets. "Well, what we'll be judging on is speed and accuracy. A true hero is best served to have both."
"You'll have half a minute or so to see how many arrows you can get in the target at each distance and your score will be based on how many hit the target and where thet hit them."
"All your shots grouped together will be worth more then one or two bullseyes and a few others scattered about the other rings. Though having them all grouped together in the bullseye will be the best of all."
"We're only expecting most people to get off five shots or so, but any more then that count as bonus points. Drawback to that is iif they aren't grouped well, then your score will be lowered."
"Thge more expieranced archers will still have an advantage, but it should give the others more of a chance."
"So are you still interested?"
"Thanks."
"It wasn't really nessasary though. Ifen anything I shoulds get you something."
"Ifen you hadnts come alongs ta help, my dad would still be in Walnet Valley."
.oO (A bow would definately be better than a crossbow. I wouldn't have to reload it.)
"And I wanted to make this for you... I never thanked you. For not thinking like Aria did when you had a right to," the dark-haired man recalls their friend's rage toward everyone, including NaShae.
"Are you entering the archery contest? You should do really well."
Kywyn looks back.
"And I'm up for a bit of distraction."
"Well I woulds likes ta shows my dad that Minto's songs aint all mades up."
His voice lowers, "That's one of the tough lessons, I've found... Not obsessing with the maybe's that could threaten the ones you need. I would keep Dak locked up in a secret room with us to keep him safe. But that wouldn't be out of love. It'd be out of greed."
"An it was probably just a bad dream anyhow. Kirby aint coming back again."
Hermy forces a smile on his face. "Yeah. Lets go sign up."
"Would you like me to leave the gift with your dad instead, so it won't burden you?" he questions mildly.
Afterwards, Kywyn walks with Hermy toward the stands to apply for the contest. Learning more about the rules, Kywyn takes out his black light crossbow and checks it over.
"His first bit of personal property as a free man in twenty years."
Hermy with Kywyn to sign up for the contest, and then taking the picture heads towards his father. "I'lls be rights back."
"Well fortune be with ye, fer I am not signing up for the contest, it is not like me ter show off me skills, unlike me brudder here."
"Besides if he did enter the contest yer chances of winning wouldn't have changed one bit. He's bad at throwing things."
*Aramil chuckles some at his comment and his brother shakes his head. Then they both go over to where the contest is going to take place. Oskar bids Aramil good luck and he leaves to go off to get a good spot to watch. Then Aramil checks his bow once again and then waits for the contest to start.
That's right, they each get to shoot five times. Of course, some people shoot faster than others, so they might get off more than five shots. They want all the arrows to land in a tight little group too. No, Perry, I'm not entering! I can barely hit a barn with a quarterstaff.
She grins ruefully at Gamis.
Perry was wondering how the archery contest works. Are you entering, love?
OoC: Note from kneyejailb: Everyone please just post participating in the archery contest. You go in the order you post, five rounds of shooting each in short, medium and long ranges. If you're taking multiple shots per round and/or using feats, please note that for the DM.
Slinging a off the extra bow and quiver he takes the time to string his shortbow for the short range. The quiver he slings around at his hip to have an easier time to draw the arrows.
As the last person clears the range and the judges indicate that they are ready, Darkar scoops a small handful of dirt and lets it go in the air to see which way the wind is blowing.
The dirt swirls from his left to right, but he also notices that it tails away from the targets. I will have to make careful compesations to hit the targets. Darkar gives a few test pulls of the bowstring and then draws an arrow to sight his aim.
Quickly and rapidly he fires arrows at the first target ten in all to be exact. However is in not overly pleased with the results of his shooting. True some of the arrows are close together, but due to his rapid firing all of the arrows were not as close as he would like. +13/+8 1d6+2 x3 70' range
I probably should fire less arrows for the medium and large targets in order to be more accurate. The judges move to tally the score and remove the arrows, and then the target is moved back to the medium range. Darkar carefully gauges the new distance and tests the wind again.
Due to the swirling wind, and the new distance Darkar switches to his longbow. With the ready signal given Darkar's approach is more careful and deliberate. However after the first two shots, the elf feels that he is in an unique rhythm and reels off as many shots as possible. Eight arrows in all have been fired. +13/+8 1d8+3 x3 100' range
Once again the judges move to tally the score and retrieve the arrows and move the target back to the as far back as it goes. Darkar squints the target is partially in shadow as clouds pass in front of the sun. He tries to wait for it to pass, but the clouds seem to be staying put and the swirling wind has lessened considerably.
Not one to mutter about misfortune in a contest of skill. Darkar carefully lines up his shots. The concentration can be seen on the elves face. Four shots, and it does not look all that great from where Darkar is standing and so he takes a chance and fires two more arrows for a total of six. +13/+8 x3 100' range
The judges go and count the points, and take some extra time confering on something on the target about one of the arrows. Darkar is greeted with some polite applause, many not really sure what to expect with the first person in the contest. Darkar feels that he could have done better, but he will have to accept the preformance.
His arrows are returned to him and he is thanked for his participation. Darkar is informed that all results will be announced later. Smiling Darkar waves and bows once to the crowd. Stepping outside of the circle Darkar moves back to the others waiting to watch the other competitiors.
.oO (I'm outskilled here, but mother guide me in my task.)
Maybe the Mother smiles on him in pity, for the sun doesn't cloud over as he's waiting for the judge to annouce the start. He bends down on one knee and aims. his round begins and he fires, his should absorbing the recoil of the bow. He quickly drops a bolt in the shaft before firing again. He repeats this process five times without hesitation. It probably would have been better if he had taken the time to reaim each time. (+6 1d8 (five times))
"Eww... Sorry."
Shaking his head, Lucian brushes off his pants as he stands, trying to get the dirt off. He grins weakly at his friends before heading to the next competition. This one is a bit further away, but nothing that his elven eyes can't handle. He kneels again and releases another five shots in a quick stream, cursing as they are carried slightly by the wind.
Lucian scratches his head and makes his way towards the final range, he lets fly another volley with a great deal of determination. Smiling proudly he walks back to his friends. The crowd applaudse more in consolation than anything else.
Kywyn raises his projectile weapon up to align his sight. He is conscious to keep his fingers below the flight track and away from the bowstring. With a deliberate gesture, the trigger is squeezed carefully. A mechanical turning noise is followed by the twang of the cable. The dust blowing between him and the target makes the shot seem further away than it is, but Kywyn does not let any concern show on his face. He continues without a word, reloading a bolt and firing again. He repeats these motions smoothly but only manages a handful of shots.
Moving to the next range further, Kywyn levels his tiller again. He tilts the nose up slightly to try to compensate for the different limits. The bolt zips off, and Kywyn quickly pulls back on the bending lever to reset the string. Fumbling slightly in the action, Kywyn forces himself to slow down and do it properly. He fires off about the same number of shots as at the last range increment and steps up to the farthest marker.
At this range, Kywyn feels he'll be lucky to make contact with his shots. With a deep, controlled breath, the man takes aim and releases his missile at the target. He finds his sight unfocusing and a calm, even feeling in the liberation of the bolts one by one. Striving to hit a bull's eye becomes almost a secondary goal. Kywyn has heard archers talk about how a person's true character could be determined in his release of a bowstring. He never fully understood that, he still does not, but it does not seem a far-fetched idea to him at the moment.
When finished, Kywyn dusts off his sleeves and heads back into the crowd with his bow held down at his side, almost behind him. The game is amusing enough, but he doesn't show any signs of competitiveness. He watches impassively but affably as the next archer enters the area.
---
[5 shots each, light crossbow, +9/1d8, 19-20/x2 critical, 80' range increment]
The three fingers of his leather shooting glove protect his digits from the bowstring as he draws--the shooter needs some slight protection from own weapon. The nock is cradled between index and middle fingers as he pulls. The length of twisted sinew shares the considerable stress of the draw, tense and stretching, while the projectile is at rest. The arrow is the only thing relaxed, but its reverie cannot last with a hard kick waiting literally right under its rump.
Gamis pulls until his fingers, the nock, and two blue and one white feathers brush his face, next to his nose and just at the edge of his eye socket as he sights along the shaft. Tension is in his arms, hands, shoulder, back, and his bow itself, while the arrow and his face and neck are relaxed. He relies on his experience as an archer and some primal instinct, perhaps one of the few racial memories humans still have--that steady, satisfying, momentary rising sensation in the gut that one gets when loosing a projectile that's right on target... He searches for that feeling, not wasting time holding the string back while he tries to get the arrowhead to stay sitting top dead center on the bull's-eye long enough for the string to be released. That's the path to his muscles shaking and the bow wiggling even worse, he knows.
He feels it, his fingers straighten out of the curl that holds the bowstring back, and the blond-colored wood of his bow snaps violently back towards its natural shape, catching the arrow up out of its at-rest state by the nock and sending it sliding over the leather-smoothed arrow shelf and towards the target for the first shot in a sudden contrast between smooth and hard--tension building until wood, muscle, and living and dead sinew quiver under the strain, giving way to an abrupt release as the arrow is sent flying.
Maybe that's another advantage to a drawn bow, he thinks as the string slaps against his arm guard with force that would raise a horrid welt on exposed skin. There's no mechanism to second-guess. Not that a crossbow is unreliable, but there are extra moments of uncertainty while depressing the tiller and waiting for the gears to let go and loose the shaft--extra moments to try to hold steady. When it's only your own leather-guarded hand holding back the string, you feel for yourself when it's about to let go.
Gamis takes his time between shots, calmly letting the shaft reach the end of its flight before drawing his next arrow from the quiver, as opposed to the barrage of increasingly-clumsy shots he can fire when in actual combat. He moves one shot at a time through each range category, and each shot is a moment of focus that slips away when he lowers his bow, replaced by affable relaxation in the contest.
+12, 70-foot range increment
.oO(Now I remember...)
Focusing on the target ahead, Kai lets loose the first arrow. Moments later, the elf lowers the longbow and starts to make his way towards the next range. Without checking to see how well he grouped the first five shots, he then turns and readies for the next round.
.oO(I almost forgot how much I hated crowds.)
With his emotions kept in check and eyes of ice, Kai then starts the next set of shots. The five are sent at the target with time to spare, but instead of firing a couple more he lowers his bow and walks to the last point.
.oO(Why won't they stop looking at me!)
Grinding his teeth, Kai then fires away. After the last *kchunk*, Kai moves toward the the first range point. With his eyes kept on the ground, he bends over to pick up the pack. After reclaiming his pack, he walks away while avoiding to look at the last group of shots.
.oO(I don't belong here.)
At that, Kai leaves the range area and slowly makes his way out of the halfling district.
+9 (1d8, x3 critical, 100' range increment, piercing)
Darkars ten shots at short range streak towards the target. They all strike the center of the target, though the grouping is somewhat eratic. Four are clustered in the top portion of the bullseye, three in the center, two on the right side and one in the bottom.
His score is called out. "Short range for Sir Shadowood. 22 points!"
Hermy nudges the guy again. "That's not bad. Twenty fives a perfect score. For five shots. Ifen he had aimeded a bit better he coulds has gotten thirty there."
Darkar fires from the mid range. Again all his shots bury themselves in the bullseye, and his grouping is a bit better. "24 for Sir Shadowood!"
Hermy smiles. "He shoulds do just abouts as well at long range."
Darkars arrows fly. HIs first three shots smack into the first ring. The next three center in the bullseye. Three more land in the first ring, and the last shot stands alone in the second ring. The crowd groans before the judges can even count the score. Sir Shadowood scores 18 on long range!"
Hermy sighs. "Well thats still nots too bad. I doubts many cin do better."
At least on the first range he does. All five shots strike center. "Score for Mister Risk at short range. 22 points!"
Hermy shrugs. "Nots bad. Buts its only short range. I doubts he'll does better then Darkar in the next round."
His arrows strike, two in the first ring, two in the third, and the last misses entirely. "9 points for Mister Risk!"
Hermy shakes his head. "See I tolds ya."
At the maximum range onlt two of Luciens missles strike the target. Both in the second ring, and not all that close to each other. "3 points!"
Hermy shakes his head. "I really hopes I do better then that."
Kywyn fires off his shots for the first round. All bullseyes. And all well grouped. "Perfect score. 25!"
Hermy exhales. "Well that was a surprise weren't it?"
Kywyns next round is not so good. Two bullseyes, the rest in the first ring.
Hermy shrugs before the judge calls out the score. "Still all things considered, that weren't to bad either."
"Mister Liew. 18 points!"
Kywyns next bolts strike. One in the first ring, two in the second. The other two skitter off the ground, missing entirely. Hermy groans as the score is announced. "2 points for Mister Liew!"
Hermy shrugs. "Likes I said, ifen these hads been fireballs..."
Hermy nods. "He's just warmin' up."
"21 points!" Again they are all bullseyes, and the grouping isn't bad. Hermy smiles.
"He'll makes it into the championships fer sure."
Gamis lines up for the long range portion of the competition. All fivearrows land in the center of the tatget. Packed tightly. The crowd cheers. "Perfect score. 25 points!"
Hermy grins.
The halfling nudges the man next to him as he watches the elf shoot. All the arrows manage to hit somewhere in the center, though not close together. "21 points for the... um... for this contestant!"
Hermy shakes his head. "Just what I thought. Tryin' to comes off as all mystrerious an stuff."
The next phase of the contest isn't a bad one for the elf either. Again all centered, but not well grouped. "21 for... 21!"
Hermy shakes his head. "Well theys gunna has a hard time declaring a winner ifen he wins won't they."
Kais grouping is betterat the longest distance, though because it is towards the edge of the bullseye, one hits the line seperating the bullseye from the first ring, lowering his score. "22 for... 22 for this contestant."
Hermy shakes his head. "That's too bad. I'd prefer it ifen everyone who goes to the next round had a name so they coulds get cheered for. It's more sportin that way."
"Wait Kai! You did great."
*Aramil looks to his brother who gives him a quick nod letting him know that he did well. Then Aramil takes a deep breath and sighs, calming himself down. After that he knocks another arrow and waits for the judges to move the target. Once they give him the signal he takes aim and lets the arrow fly, hitting the target, but Aramil lost track of where it went as he fires another rapid succesion of arrows to get a better score, but this time he only shot off 7 more just to get a good aim in between.
*Aramil looks at Oskar again after he finished this and his brother gives him another nod, letting him know how he's done. Then Aramil takes a deep breath to calm him down again. He knocks another arrow and sights it with his bow, when the judges give the signal for him to start he lets the arrow fly for the long range. He hopes that it hit, for he fires anothe rapid succesion of arrows, totaling 8 in all. After he is done, he sighs and takes a bow in front of the audience, then he goes over to his brother to wait for the other contestants to shoot.
.oO(Well I hope I did well....)
(+12/+7 ranged Longbow +1, d8+1, 100 ft, 20/3)
Aramils first arrows fly. A few high pitched cheers go out as the first nine arrows hit home inthe center, then an exclaimation of dissapointment as the last shot goes flying over the target missing entirely. "12 points for Mister Dunskar!"
Encouraging words of support come from the crowd. "Donna worry Dwarf guy! If that 'ad been a giant you'd 'ave gotten 'im in the 'ead!"
Aramil waits until the target is pulled back, and then fires again. "Perfect score! 25 for Mister Dunskar!"
The crowd applauses his showing, all eight shots in the center though not tightly packed. The extra arrows providing enough of a bonus to make up for that.
The crowd goes wild during his last time at line when one of his shots splits another arrow down the middle. Unfortanetly the rest were not so spectacular.Four bullseyes and two each in the first and second rings. An old mans voice can be heard snorting. "Told ya dwarves couldn't shot. Pay up!"
The crowd still cheers as Aramils score is announced. "15 points for Mister Aramil Dunskar of the Silver Sword!"
"Did you see, Dak?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah! You hit the target. And then there was this butterfly! It was green and blue and yellow. I watched it til it went over a roof."
"That's great, Dak. We should draw it later," Kywyn is somewhat relieved that Dak did not see his father's last shots.
Then again, hearing the boy describe a simple butterfly with such fascination puts things in perspective. Your father is invincible when you are that young. It doesn't really matter how well he did.
After watching a few more contestants, Kywyn moves through to find some beverages for them. In the dizzying crowd, it's easy to feel like slipping away in the sea of people. Kywyn used to seek moments like this, where he could slip away.
A frog's chirp reminds Kywyn where he is going.
[color=olive]"Drink."[/color]
He wanted to drink of something before.
[color=olive]"Remember, we're getting drinks."[/color]
It was a memory. Through all that he has learned, the thirst waxed and waned, faded and revived, but never left. Why did he feel it like it had been that way for a long time when he only had so much memory to himself?
"Thirsty."
Such a long time.
Kywyn walks up to the bartender he recognizes from Nobody's.
"Hi, Boirin. Could I have three cups of... do you have any water or fruit juice?"
A boo comes out as the next halfling steps up to the line. "Ya stink Mick!"
The halfling glares at his friend Vivvo before firing off five arrows from his borrowed halfling longbow. His first round of shots nets him 5 bullseyes and the judge calls out his score. "23 for Mick Shrimptown!"
At medium range he scores three more centershots and two in the first ring. "19 points"
"8 points!" He scores two in the first ring, one in the second and two in the last ring with his last turn up.
Vivvo laughs as he steps up. "Oi'll show ya how it's done."
Five bullseyes and a call from the judge earns Vivvo a nasty glare from Mick. "Perfect score. 25 for Vivvo Savage!"
Three more center shots and two in the first ring gives him a nastier look. "20 for Vivvo Savage!"
He gets a toungue stuck out at him after four of his long range shots hit the second ring and the last skirts by the edge of the target. "3 points for Vivvo Savage."
Vivvo charges after Mick, fist raised as Dirkko walks by, a shortbow in hand. His first round nets him a perfect score. "25 for Dirkko Smalls!"
The second round is almost as good. All tightly packed in the center. "24 points!"
Dirkko grins and aims for the distant target on his last turn at the line. The grin is replaced by tears as all five of his arrows sink into the last ring. "5 points for Dirkko Smalls."
Rilla giveshim a pat on the back as she steps up. "They were all grouped together at least. If that had been a bad guy you'd have hurt him bad."
Dirkko nods and slinks away. Rilla fires off her first volley. Like most of the contestants she scores all her arrows in the center on the first distance. "22 points for Rilla Bursnap!"
Her next shots aren't as good. Four in the first ring and one in the center. 17 for Rilla Bursnap!"
A few gnomes in the crowd and some halflings give her an encouraging clap. Her last five arrows all hit the target, but scattered about all three rings. None in the center. "5 points!"
The Tealeaf boys are next and both receive hearty response from the halfling community. "That's my boy!"
Will hits the center with four out of five at close range, the errant arrow coming close but landing in the first ring. "20 for Phil Tealeaf!"
Will shakes his head. "I'm Will."
"Correction. 20 for Will Tealeaf!"
His next five shots fail to hit the center at all but they are all in the first ring. "18 points!"
His first shot at long range fails to reach the target, and the next four barely hit the outer ring. "1 point fot Will Tealeaf!"
Next up, Phil fairs a bit better. All centershots and well grouped at close range. "Perfect score for.. Phil right? ..25 points for Phil Tealeaf!"
His next set of arrows strike three in the first ring, two in the second. "10 points!"
His last turn up he strikes the target only twice. Both in the second ring. "1 point!"
Phil sighs as he walks to rejoin his family and is given a comforting hug from his mother.
Davvo waves and bows to the crowd of giggling halfling girls who have pushed their way to the front of the crowd. Davvo picks up the halfling longbow and poses with it before signaling that he is ready to start.
The first three bullseyes get him a cheer from his fans, and the hit in the second ring on the fourth and the first ring on the fifth are met with murmers os dissapointment. "Davvo Sandoven scores 16!"
He shrugs off the score and blows a kiss towards the crowd while the target is pulled back. Then he takes his stance and fires again. His fans clap politely, but without much enthusiasm as they fit the first and third rings only. "3 points!"
Davvo grins and calls out. "Oim a lover not a foighter!"
He proves it with his last volley. Only on e hits the target and then just barely, landing on the edge of the outer ring. The judges give it a few seconds to see if it sticks before annoucning his score. "1 point for Davvo Sandoven!"
He gives a bow and then hands the bow to Nige before rejoining his fanclub. The crowd steps back as Nige plunks the unloaded bowstring a few times in their direction, grinning.
Will hurries forward and points him in a safe direction and then steps back.
Nige fires off three arrows giving a shot of joy with each one as they hit the center. The spectators all sigh with relief. His next shot thunks into the second ring and the one following that strikes hom in the first ring.
The judge calls out his score as Will points him in away from the crowd again.
"Nige Toughnails scores 16 points!"
His next set of arrows all miss the target though fortanetly they were all aimed in the right direction. Hermy sighs with relief before yelling out encouragement. "Good job Nige!"
The judge calls out. "0 points!"
Nige giigles and waves at Hermy. "Oim gunna win!"
His first four shots don't support that. Of the first four only one hits the target. On the outer ring. Two of them don't come anywhere near it.
He laughs and points. "Ooops!"
He fires his last arrow and then jumps for joy as it hits dead center in the target. "Oi win! Oi win!"
The Tealeaf boys smile as the lead him away from the range. "Hermy will be proud of you."
The judge announces the score. "Nige Tougnail scores 1 point!"
Kiara stay.
*Nodding to the judge Tensek waits to begin, as he is started off Tensek Tensek fires upon the short target 15 times. With a nod of acceptance at the arrows performances Tensek prepares himself for the medium range target.*
(+9/+4/+9, 1d8 x3 110' range)
*Blocking out any noise coming from the surrounding crowd Tensek takes a bit longer to ensure he hits the targets firing only 7 shots at the target.*
(+11/+6, 1d8 x3, 110' range)
*Lastly Tensek once again takes even slower to fire upon the furthest target. As he stands lining up his shots it seems as though Tensek is a statue inbetween shots. That is until he fires the arrow in a quick and precise movement. The ranger looses five arrows at the target and steps away from the line to listen for the results.*
(+11, 1d8 x3, 110' range)
Hearing the cheers he stops to watch the archery competition and applauds and cheers with the crowd when the contestents fire. He is impressed by many of the competitors' skill with the bow.
For a moment he thinks about trying to join in the compition, but he quickly shakes his head and laughs at himself for having such a foolish thought.
"The only thing that it would accomplish would be to show all these people how bad a shot I am compared to them. And they don't need to see that."
A cackle muffles the sound of the judges astonished cry, and then the score is announced. "Mister Vicar scores 24 points.
The cackle gets louder. "Amauters!"
Tensek clears his mind again, and fires off seven arrows. All hitting center, one of them repeating Aramils feat of slicing through one of the others. There is another snort, though not as loud as the last.
"Mister Vicar scores 26 points! Simply amazing!"
In the crowd Hermy shakes his head. .o0(That's gunna be hard to beat.)
As is his next round. All five shots bury into the center right next to each other. The judge shakes his head. "Perfect score. 25 points!"
Avery loud snort follows the announcement. "How can it be perfect if he scored higher last time? Who taughts ya ta count?"
Outof the corner of his eye Tensek can see the heckler. The old man he met in the forest.
.oO(I'm a little too tall nonetheless, but for once my height - or relative lack thereof - seems suited to the surroundings. I should visit the halfling quarter more often.)
The elf had heard about the archery contest, but decided against bringing his own bow and arrows. It had sounded more like an amicable event than a really competitive contest, so bringing his superior weapon seemed presumptious. When he hears his name called out, he steps forward and accepts a bow and a quiver of arrows from one of the halflings in charge of the event.
Having watched the previous contestants, Ran decides not to try and shoot too many arrows, at least not at the farther-placed targets. He stands a few moments with his eyes closed, trying to sense the circumstances and focusing his breathing until he's perfectly calm and centered. He fires ten arrows in rapid succession at the first target, forces himself to lower his pace for the second, timing eight arrows evenly spaced out over the allotted interval and slows down even more for the third and final sequence of shots, knocking, drawing and releasing six arrows in perfect harmony with the slow beat of his heart.
He serenely bows towards the range and then towards the crowd and judges, returning the bow and remaining arrows with a grateful nod and smile.
The process is repeated on the mid ranged targets, though not as tightly packed in the center. The extra arrows make up for that though. Again the judge calls out. "25 points!"
It isn't until the long range that he misses the center. Two of his six hit the first ring. The judge gives his tally. "20 points for Mister Ran of the Silver Sword!"
He is given a round of mostly civil applause, though there is one voice snorting at the elf.
A judge rush towards him waving his hands. "What's in the flask? Magic potions wouldn't be fair to the other contestants."
The man belches. "Since when is whiskey considered a magic potion?"
He takes another swig and then exhales heavily on the halfling judge. The judge tries to wave away the odor and backs off. "Ok. Ok. Shoot when you are ready."
"I was borns ready."
In a blur of motion, the old man fires off a cloud of arrows. When he stops and pulls out his flask again, the entire center of the target is filled with arrows. The judge starts to count them. Thirty five arrows in the center of the target. No room for any more.
The judge shakes his head. "55 points for Mister?"
"Call me the winner and I'll be fines with that. Da ya really need more of a name then that?"
"Well, not really..."
"Or just call me Blackstar."
The halfling nods and starts to announce the name when the old man goes into motion again. The air is not so thick with arrows this time, but still when he has stopped for another swig the target is peppered with thirty arrows. All but two in the bullseye. The other two unable to find room in it and sticking out of the first ring instead. The judge shakes his head again.
"Mister Blackstar scores 48 points."
The old man takes a few more swigs and then shrugs. "Do I even need ta bothers with the rests. Mights as well declare me the winner now."
The judge starts to speak but the old man starts shooting again. Fifetten arrows fly off all but two once again hitting the center. And the two that don't barely miss.
"32 points and our winner is..."
The crowd yells out. "Sir Hermy hasn't gone yet!"
Hermy blinks and shakes his head. .o0(Theres no way I can beat that.)
The crowd starts chanting out Hermy's name. Even the old man does though by his facial expression it is very obvious he is mocking the crowd.
He loads an arrow, aims and sends off ten arrows in quick order. All striking the target. The grouping on them is very ggod. The judge smiles as he announces the score. "28 points for Sir Hermy Woodhome!"
Hermy breathes a sigh of relief and takes aim again, firing off another ten arrows. They all hit the center but the grouping is off. A sigh goes through the crowd as the judge announces the score. "20 points for Sir Hermy Woodhome!"
Hermy glances at the old man again, the man laughs at him and gives him a thumbs up signal that he slowly rotates downward. Hermy shakes his head again and fires off ten more arrows. Six hit the bullseye. Three the first ring and one the second. The judge frowns as he calls out the score. "16 points for Sir Hermy Woodhome."
Hermy shrugs and hands back the bow and then makes his way towards the old man. "Good shooting there. Where..."
The old man snorts. "I don'ts wants to hear it. If ya wants ta congratulate me, buy me a drink nstead."
Hermy shrugs. "Well, Ok?..."
Hermy heads towards Marrocs makeshift bar.
"How?"
Darkar is standing there gawking in utter disbelief at the preformance is repeated twice more. He turns and whispers to Aramil, "I do not think there is anyone here who can beat that preformance. Who is he some professional archer?"
He catches the man's name Blackstar, it mulls over and over in his mind. Surely with skill such as that Darkar would think he had heard of him before. My mind must still be bamboozeled from that gaudy spectical with the bow.
In watching the man walk off, Darkar almost misses Hermy's preformance. Darkar cheers loudly for his friend to encourage him, what misfortune Darkar thinks having to go after Blackstar.
I've been looking for you Sir Blackstar.
.oO(Well... You can't argue with that...)
.oO(I just got destroyed. Horribly)
he returns to running after Kai.
The second brightens a little when the old lady later kisses him on the forehead, offering a few more gentle words, then resumes the scowl to let him know he's not entirely out of trouble yet.
Nevertheless, you can tell that the old woman is not entirely displeased with the young halfling's opinion and willingness to stand up for it.
"No, no, thank you, I can't."
"Easy does it there, sir. Yes, I can understand how ye might have overlooked me, but let's show a bit more care where we're walking, hmm?"
.oO(After all, this is the halfling quarter, biglegs -- if ye can overlook me, you're in the wrong place.)
"I'm afraid I can't. I'm on duty -- no, not right now, but soon. I appreciate the offer though."
"Yes, and a good day to you as well!"
"Thank you, no, I-- yes, it looks quite tasty, but I'd never be able to move again after I filled up on that!"
"And what a lovely... child... she is, too! Goodness, but did she manage to get any of that pie she's wearing into her belly?"
"Why, yes, that's very interesting. You'll have to pardon me, though; I'm afraid I have a few more visits to make before I'm called back to the desk."
He pauses near the archery competition. An overeager witness tries to press a bow into his hand.
"No, I'm just watching this--"
The bow is pressed upon him more firmly.
"No, really, I'm afraid I don't have ti--"
By now there are six halflings trying to get him to take the weapon, encouraging him to make a showing "for the watch."
"You're not going to take 'no' for an answer, are you."
He endures the laughter and some good natured ribbing with a sigh and a resigned look.
"All right, but I haven't really practiced. I--"
More laughter greets a call for him to "quit making excuses and shoot." With another sigh, he steps up to wait for a turn, tapping the next competitor on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, but would ye mind terribly if I cut in, first. I've got a city t'guard, but the halflings won't let me leave to watch over it without first takin' a few shots. It won't take long and -- why, thank you."
Looking mildly uncomfortable, Gerug draws the bow, goes into a half-sitting stance, and does his best to ignore "helpful" commentary from a few watchers. He gives a pained look at the results of his first shot, then tries to better it with the second.
(What's this grouping thing they're yelling about?)Oo. he wonders as he lines up his third shot.
.oO(I mean, you hit what you're aiming for or you miss and hope you haven't just gotten it mad at you, right?)
Placing the third arrow, he draws a fourth with a shrug.
.oO(All right, may as well see how fast I can get these next few shots off, maybe get a few more in than the minimum, just to show willing.)
He manages seven arrows before the closest official calls the time limit, shrugs with an almost apologetic half-grin at his results, and returns the bow.
"My thanks for the exercise. Now, please excuse me..."
Satisfying himself as quickly as he can that there is no riot or invasion of demonic pie throwers waiting to explode into the city, Gerug does his best to at least locate -- from a safe distance -- the halfling he'd expect to be at the center of such a calamity before he can beat a hasty retreat from the social scene.
.oO(Small folk never seem so intimidating when there's only a handful, but it's a different story when you're surrounded by hundreds of 'em! At least they've got enough food to go 'round -- that ought to slow them down...)
:D .oO(...for at least a week, at the rate they're going.)
"I wonder why I haven't heard of that man before, he seems like an exceptional marksman, heh and he kicked the crap outa me fer sure. Well at least I didn't lose...."
"Oh don't ye worry bout that, he's just a show off, besides ye need ter look at things in a positive perspective, not like ye do, more like I do."
"That was one thing I could never learn from ye, especially when we were fighting in a war....."
*Aramil just leaves it hang and takes another gulp of air. Then the two brothers converse some more while drinking their ale in the party.
Hermy calls out some advice. "Stands up straighter! Ifen ya shoots likes that yer just gunna hit someones shins!"
His advice is ignored. And proves to be unneeded as well. The arrow hits home in the center of the target.
Hermy tries again to help the guardsman. "Aim ta the left a bit more! No! Your other left!"
Again his advice is ignored or unheard, and once again proves not to be needed as the dwarf scores another bullseye.
.o0(Maybe I shoulds just lets him shoot how he's use ta doin it?)
Hermy watches as Gerug lines up his next shot. Shrugs and yells out. "Do what ya dids last time!"
This time either Gerug hears or it's just what he was going to do anyhow. He scores a third bullseye. Grouped close to the others. He receives a hearty round of applause.
"Good job there Goodrag!" Hermy's voice is muffled out by the sound of dozens of little hands clapping. "Just at least twelve more just like that an ya cin come in second!"
Gerugs fourth shot keeps him in the contest for the runnerup. Another arrow lands in the center next to the others. Without pausing Gerug fires off another.
"Wait! Yer a dwarf! Yer not suppose to shoot that fast! You'll ruin yer groupies!"
Hermy's call proves unessasary as the arrow strikes center. As does the next one that comes streaking out in short order. A final shoot gets off as time is called, hitting the bullseye but barely.
Hermy claps as he watches the judge tally the score. "Lt. Gerug of the City Guard scores 23!"
"Congratulations Goodrag! Ya... Hey! Get back there! Ya've still gots ta shoot again! That's only the first round! Hey! Hey!"
Hermy rushes forward to catch the dwarf before he gets to far, tripping over a Muttonchopper, or perhaps a Springjumper, or maybe even a Tealeaf. The ale meant for the crochety old man showers down on several people.
"Oh! I'm sorry! Let me help you with that... No, it's allright, it's the most useful thing about capes... Minto will just sing it out when he gets a chance... No, I'm sure. It wasn't for me anyhow, well PK, but just a small one and I'll need one more for my dad too."
Hermy glances around. "Speaking of which, has anyone seen him?"
Kywyn scans around, checking for where he went.
.oO(Well this is a change.....I can see over most of the heads here.)
There's too much people here...I do not belong.
"Just let yourself unwind. Maybe you'll learn something about yourself there."
Lucian walks back towards the party.
"I know I have in the past."
Kai then walks away in the opposite direction. His eyes come to rest on the back of the man who had bumped him, a few yards ahead.
"Thats another thing ye need ter do, ye need ter learn how ta relax, well not as much as these people, but how a typical dwarf relaxes. Ya need ter learn to not get involved in everyone's busness, bah what am I talkin aboot, you'll learn it soon enough. Like I have, the hard way...."
*Oskar lets his sentence drop off and looks blankly at his mug of ale as if remembering something that he does not want everyone else to know. He takes a huge gulp of his ale, and he sets it down on the table loudly, drawing Aramil's attention back to him. To Oskar, the ale was a breath of fresh air, and it drew him out of his thoughts and back on to the party. He smiles largly at Aramil then gets up and goes to get another round of ale for the both of them. While he is away, Aramil sits their and thinks to himself.
.oO(Wonder what that was aboot. I'll have ter ask him later.)
*He just sits their, taking in the last amount of ale in his mug.
"You'd be surprised."
He walks back to the party looking degected.
.oO(I could use some practice)
*He wanders over in line, waits borrows a bow and sends arrows at the target to the best of his skill and then wanders off. He wanders his way over to where a powerful looking dwarf carries some ale over to his master Aramil. Jace smiles and comes up to greet his teacher.*
[Dwarven]"Good Day to you master. I hope the Ale is fine and strong. And may you drink much without falling down."(dwarven drinking grace)[/dwarven]
*Jace bows to Oskar*
"Good day to you master dwarf."
A fletching comes lose as Jace fires off his first arrow sending it off balance and it flys to the right of the target. His next four all strike center.
"Mr. Cornwall scores 10!"
The few people remaining to watch the competition all sigh with dissapointment.
Four of the next five strike the edge of the bullseye, the next just outside it in the first ring. "20 points for Mister Cornwall!"
Only one of his five at longrange strikes the bullseye. The others are tightly grouped in the first ring. The score is added up and announced. "17 points!"
Hermy gives him a round of applause for his fine showing and then notices Kywyn looking around for something. He scurries over and lifts the cloth covering the table next to where Kywyn stands. "What are we looking for?"
He meets with the three halflings and after some whispering and gesturing towards various tables, Minto nods and smiles.
He makes his way back towards the center of the party. He raises his hands in the air to indicate silence and then clears his throat.
"The judges have declared a winner for the archery contest! It should come as no surprise to those who watched it, but to those that didn't... The Winner was not Sir Hermy!"
The bard pauses in case anyone wants to break down in tears, but once he sees that no one is taking the oppertunity continues. "First place... by a very large margin... Mister Blackstar of..."
He looks at the judges, they shrug. Minto shrugs back. "Mister Blackstar wins himself a keg of ale donated from Nobody's Inn, two of Mrs. Toadfoots apple pies, a blanket made by Jucy Steadfast, several good feathers from Liam Oakwoods collection, and a hat made by Bill Tealeaf!"
"Second place goes to Mister Tensek Vicar, currently of Garic's City. His fine shooting earned him his choice of any two pies, other then the two apple ones going to Mister Blackstar, from Mrs. Toadfoots table, another fine hat from Bill Tealeaf, a blanket made by Tammi Hearthheart, and feathers for use in fletching from Liam Oakwood!"
"Third place goes to Ran of the SilverSword, one of the fine gentleman responsible for this party today. Without his help, Hermy Woodhome the Elder would still be in Walnet Valley!"
"Ran, you'll be taking home some feathers also, a blanket donated by Sella Berryblush, and a pie from Mrs. Toadfoot. I'm afraid you'll have to do without a hat though. There wasn't enough time to make three."
Minto claps his hands and urges everyone else to do likewise. "A big hand for all three of our winners."
"And for everyone else who entered as well. You won't be going home empty handed either. A pie for all of you, though I'm afraid they aren't from Mrs. Toadfoots kitchen!"
*Tensek watches the old man shoot and after he finishes speaking with Hermy Tensek slides up next to him.*
I've been looking for you Sir Blackstar.
The old man snorts. "Why? To congratulate me on my performance?"
"Like I told the others, if you want to congratulates me, buy me a drink."
"Oh," he turns toward Hermy's voice with an even return, "Well, you, actually."
"Saw you walk by and was just wondering how the gatheirng was going."
A chirp comes from Kywyn's shoulder.
Kywyn makes some quiet noises in reply, "Yeah, sure. It's for you."
Hex jumps from the strap of Kywyn's satchel into the smaller, throwaway gourd cup of water with a small splash.
"I'm bringing back some drinks for NaShae and Dak. How's your dad liking it? It'd be nice to see him again," he says quietly.
"So I think he'ds be just fine talkin with you again."
"You dids a lots more then just wish him a nice day afterall."
"He's over tellin' stories to some kids. Maybe youse coulds brings Ky... Dax over ta hear them an once he's done say hey."
Kywyn cranes his neck toward where he thinks Hermy is indicating, "There?"
"I'll head over in a bit then. See you there?"
The man returns to his loved ones and shares the beverages. Afterwards, he asks Dakarai if he would like to hear some stories with the other kids. They walk over and approach the group of listeners. Standing back, Kywyn and NaShae let Dak sit closer.
Hermy Woodhome Sr. has the attention of a dozen or so children, mostly halfling, though a gnome and a human are also seated in a semi circle around him. Hermy Jr. leans against a table watching.
When he sees Kywyn and NaShae approach, he waves them over. "Dax outa likes this one, theres a princesss an a hero an they stop this evil wizard from turning the whole kigdom inta shoes."
"... they all fell into a magical sleep except for..."
Hermy shrugs. "Ok, maybes I misread that part. Ise nevers heards it live jusy read it in my book. Dax shoulds still likes it anyhow. There's fighting, an jumping an..."
"... the black tower collapsed behind them..."
"Buildings faling apart an all sorts of good stuff. But here comes the best part. Listen."
Hermy Sr. continues desribing the action and then once the protaganists are safe smiles. "An they all lived happily ever after."
Hermy smiles. "See. I tolds ya."
His performance is flawless, not a note is missed or a word missprounced. The crowd listens in awe an amazement.
"The idea anyways."
"Well and the living part."
"The happily ever afters just a bonus. Nots everyones gunna get it, but it's nice ta hear some peoples do."
"Even if they aint real people."
The old man snorts. "Why? To congratulate me on my performance?"
"Like I told the others, if you want to congratulates me, buy me a drink."
Far from congratulations actually. I'd rather ask you to train me.
"I missed four bullseyes, you missed the entire target once."
"That's some shooting there boy. I'm seventy six, what's your excuse for such a poor showing?"
"Ye know Oskar, I may be able ter learn a thing er two aboot archery from that guy. Even though the archery side doesn't run strong in our dwarven side of the family."
*Oskar smiles at his brother.
"Ye always were the one ter try yer best, weren't ye, well since I'm not much of a archer, ye go along and ask. Who know's he might teach ye some stuff. Anywho, I think I'm going ter mingle with the halflings and whatnot."
*Aramil nods his head, and as they both are about to leave, Jace comes over with drinks for them. The brothers both bow in thanks and then they split off into different directions, Oskar going to chat with the Horde, and Aramil going to see if he can get some lessons from the old guy. He waits till Tensek is done talking to the old man before he goes up to ask.
The old man snorts again. "Train you? Why woulds I want to do that? I saw the way you shot."
"I missed four bullseyes, you missed the entire target once."
"That's some shooting there boy. I'm seventy six, what's your excuse for such a poor showing?"
I make no excuses for my mistakes there's no point to that. I missed the target once, which is why I wish to become your student. To prevent that from happening again.
Eat's whatever he can grab.
Razor claws, shell that's hard
Really likes the taste of bard.
Watch out! Here comes a spidercrab!
In a pond by the trail
Lurking in an armored shell
Waiting for someonew to drink
Pouncing before theres time to think.
Watch out! Here comes a spidercrab!
On the way to bring dad back
They felt they needed a little snack
They Tried to grab Sir Hermy,
They Only ended up with me.
Watch out! Here comes a spidercrab!
Sword out, cutting through the air
Hermy faced the deadly pair
Not phased by the sneak attack
Spiderrcrab shell Hermy cracked
Watch out! There went a spidercrab!
One down fast, the other fled
But by morn' it would be dead.
Huntied down before dawns light
Didn't put up much a fight
Watch out! Hermy killed the spidercrabs!"
Minto takes a bow.
Kywyn looks between Hermy and Hermy Senior, giving a small wave to the latter when eye contact is made. Nodding slightly, Kywyn turns back to hear the rest of Minto's work.
"Excuse me, but when I say ye at the firein range, I was impressed, no more then impressed, I was shoked that ye were able ter do that. I was wonderin if that ye would be able ter teach not only Tensek, but meself also. I'm sure that ye would be up fer the challenge of teachin a dwarf ter shot like ye do. And if ye want somethin fer it, I'm sure that we can find a price reasonable between the three of us."
*Aramil looks up at Tensek and winks at him.
"Great song Minto, one of your best yet!" Darkar yells.
Moving over to the bard Darkar offers to buy him a drink from Marroc's cart.
Minto goes to the bar wagon with Darkar. "I could really use a drink. To wetten the vocal chords a bit before I go back to entertaining the crowd."
After ordering an ale, Minto turns around to watch the festivities. He takes a sip of his drink. "How did Rilla, Will and Phil workouit for you? Didn't cause to much trouble I hope?"
As the children rush off and the Elder Woodhome makes his way over, Hermy whispers to Kywyn. "Giants don't really lives on clouds you know. But it makes fer a more exciting story."
Hermy Sr. smiles when he reaches his son and his friends. "Oh, Hello there Kywyn. And you must be Mrs. Kywyn."
He gives NaShae a small bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
He rests an arm on Hermys shoulder. "Thank you for the gift Kywyn. Haven't had time to open it yet, but I'm sure it will be good what ever it is."
Hermy Jr. whispers in his ear. "It's a picture."
Hermy Sr. smiles. "But of what? That's the question? And the beauty of aret isn't it? Same with stories but even more capable of taking the imagination on a trip."
"I'ds be more then happy to teach ya how ta drink if ya need help with that, but I don't have enough years left in me to waste trying to teach a dwarf how to shoot. Might as well waste them teaching an orc how to knit, or a halfling how to think."
"Now be a good little fellow and fetch me a whiskey. I can probably spare a few minutes to show you which end of the arrow is the pointy one if ya do that for me."
He turns his gaze back on Tensek. "Well, what's the matter? Cat got your toungue? Or one of these halflings maybe?"
"Grabby little things, but they do know how to lay out a spread."
"That's true. Different paths to reach the same goal."
"You can open it whenever you get the chance," Kywyn says of the gift.
Hermy Sr. smiles at his son.
"I was pleasantly surprised to see you had entered that contest earlier. You didn't strike me as someone who wanted attention or had a need to compete?'
"Afternoon sir. I was wondering if I could borrow your services for a moment."
"That's a fair assessment," the man agrees.
"Just a bit of practice and a game to play," he shrugs nonchalantly.
"And we get a pie out of it, I hear."
Something about being around the halfling way of things shines a little hedonistic light on world.
Hermy looks at his dad. "Are ya a good shooter?"
"Never shot a bow in my life. But it's not wether you win or lose is it?" He grins. "It's all about getting pie."
"But who would I be competeing against?"
"Why not just challenge Sir Hermy to a dual, or that old man to shortbows at thirty paces."
"I'd fare just as well."
Blackstar snorts again. "Why would I want to teach you? What's in it for me?"
Why not for something to do?
"Yer gunna hafta come up wif somethin' better then that boy. If it's between my bottle and you, I know which one I'll pick."
Kywyn and NaShae step forward to avoid a group of sprinting halflings behind them.
"Listen here ye dog, I am not a stupid dwarf like ye people sterotype us ter be, we know how ter fight and we are pretty durned good at it. Now if ye aren't willin' ter teach me or Tensek I don't know why I even bothered. And i'm not yer servent either, besides I could probably beat ye at a drinkin contest anywho...."
*And without another thought Aramil goes off to find his brother, he finds him easily enough and sits down next to him, he takes a large gulp of his ale and then relaxes, trying to get his mind off of the old man.
.oO(I'm startin to envy me brudder fer not leavin the kingdom....)
Minto nods at Darkar. "Thank you. Knowing I got a good song out of it almost makes up for losing my favorite shirt. Almost."
Minto goes to the bar wagon with Darkar. "I could really use a drink. To wetten the vocal chords a bit before I go back to entertaining the crowd."
After ordering an ale, Minto turns around to watch the festivities. He takes a sip of his drink. "How did Rilla, Will and Phil workouit for you? Didn't cause to much trouble I hope?"
Rilla, Will, and Phil did well considering it turned violent. They might have a rough bit in the fighting, but Rilla was there to watch Dravenous' back while he saved Will. Perhaps with the money that they received they might have enough to purchase some armor eventually, if they plan to continue help in dangerous situations.
Purchasing the ale he hands it over to Minto.
So what do you know about Hermy's father? When I first got to know him I was under the impression that his parents had passed away. Did I misunderstand that his father was just away?
"Ran, you'll be taking home some feathers also, a blanket donated by Sella Berryblush, and a pie from Mrs. Toadfoot. I'm afraid you'll have to do without a hat though. There wasn't enough time to make three."
Ran accepts his prizes with an appreciative bow.
.oO(I'm sure Mrs Weatherby won't be offended if I bring this magnificent pie home for tomorrow's dessert. And I'm sure I can find good use for those feathers as well. The blanket will be particularly nice to keep me warm when I'm sitting at my table late at night to work on my treatise on medicine. I have to admit I'd counted on doing better than third place - or at least third place with such a margin between myself and the winner - but that was some extraordinary marksmanship. And Tensek's proven his skill as well. I suppose I'd better increase my efforts on the practice range in the future.)
The elf wanders around a while longer, enjoying Minto's songs (in spite of the uncomfortable first-hand memories of the 'squirrel crab encounter') and making a point of greeting everyone he knows before wishing the senior and junior Woodhomes an enjoyable night and taking his leave to finish up his shift at the Last Lich. The hustle and bustle of the boisterous crowd isn't the worst thing in the world, but he's glad to leave it behind nonetheless and step out in the calm of the street to make his way back to the inn.
.oO(Wonder what sort of tune Minto could come up with for "giant floating eye shooting beams of destruction...")
Tucking in a bit closer to Gamis, she scans the crowd for a likely path.
*Aramil's eyes widen just a little bit with shock.
"Listen here ye dog, I am not a stupid dwarf like ye people sterotype us ter be, we know how ter fight and we are pretty durned good at it. Now if ye aren't willin' ter teach me or Tensek I don't know why I even bothered. And i'm not yer servent either, besides I could probably beat ye at a drinkin contest anywho...."
*And without another thought Aramil goes off to find his brother, he finds him easily enough and sits down next to him, he takes a large gulp of his ale and then relaxes, trying to get his mind off of the old man.
.oO(I'm startin to envy me brudder fer not leavin the kingdom....)
Blackstar shakes his head and laughs as the dwarf walks away, "Dwarves? Always good fer a laugh aint they?"
He stops laughing "Not much good at archery though. Ya can't let your emotions get a hold of you ifs ya wants.... Anyways boy, what's in it fer me? I can train ya. Possibily ta be almost as good as me. But why should I?"
"My days of doing things out of the goodness of my heart is long past."
Rilla, Will, and Phil did well considering it turned violent. They might have a rough bit in the fighting, but Rilla was there to watch Dravenous' back while he saved Will. Perhaps with the money that they received they might have enough to purchase some armor eventually, if they plan to continue help in dangerous situations.
Purchasing the ale he hands it over to Minto.
So what do you know about Hermy's father? When I first got to know him I was under the impression that his parents had passed away. Did I misunderstand that his father was just away?
Minto shrugs. "Hermy had that impression as well."
Minto takes a swallow of his drink, "Until he went into the Temple and had a vision while in the labyrinth."
"It was right before Alissa's failed raising. Apparentely he spoke to his dead mother, or at least something claiming to be her." Minto wipes some stray foam off his lips with a handkerchef. "She told him his father was still alive And reveiled his name to him. Hermy Woodhome Sr.."
"Brodda and I, you knew Brodda right?, Brodda and I did some investigating while Hermy was off training the Jackal scouts. We found out he had been sent to the mines for a crime Kirby commited. Killing a priest."
"Hermy Sr, took the blame, and the guard captain at the time didn't bother to investigate wether it was really him that did it, or if he was just trying to protect one of his sons. A shame really. How many lives would have been saved if it was Kirby who had spent the last twenty years in the mines instead of his father."
Minto pauses. "Then again, who many would have died had Hermy not had to grow up the way he did. The Mother has a funny way of balancing things does she not?"
"Anyhow, Brodda, Daron and myself went to the mines to find out if he was still alive, and found out his contract had been sold years ago. Good thing too. It's doubtful he'd have survived there long. He doesn't have the stamina of either of his sons. But probably more flavour." Minto shudders. "We had to find the guard captain at the time to get the sentance overturned by the courts so we could free Hermy Sr. By this point Hermy was back from... You know, I think I'll finish this story a bit later. In the form of a song of course."
"For now, I think I'll enjoy this ale." Minto takes another swallow. "Getting the students armor, and decent weapons is probably a good idea. I'll bring it up with Hermy... or maybe just take care of it myself. Last thing Hermy needs now is another expense."
"Getting his dad settled in will be hard enough as is."
"How are you adjusting back to the city?" Kywyn asks Hermy's father.
Kywyn and NaShae step forward to avoid a group of sprinting halflings behind them.
Hermy Sr. smiles. "Not to well so far."
"Haven't had much of a chance to get out of the Guildhouse so far."
"I did manage to make it to the Temple to visit an old friend..."
Hermy interupts. "Father Cannedrum?"
Hermy Sr. nods. "Camrun, Hermy. Camrun."
"You take after your mothers side of the family. Terrible with names. Your grandmother never could get my name right, Mother Watch Her Soul. Always called me Harvey Woodhead."
The elder Woodhome smiles. "I suspect things will get better now. I've had several job offers already today. None I'm interested in mind you, but still the offer was nice."
Blackstar shakes his head and laughs as the dwarf walks away, "Dwarves? Always good fer a laugh aint they?"
He stops laughing "Not much good at archery though. Ya can't let your emotions get a hold of you ifs ya wants.... Anyways boy, what's in it fer me? I can train ya. Possibily ta be almost as good as me. But why should I?"
"My days of doing things out of the goodness of my heart is long past."
*Tensek shakes his head atthe brashness of Aramil and pauses for a second as he considers what he could do for Blackstar.*
Money, goods, alcohol... What do you want?
"Have you ever considered writing down your stories to share them? Your own experiences are more interesting than what a lot of authors could come up with."
"Of course, I get that privacy is a good thing. But you seem to have a passion for words," he adds mildly.
Kywyn spots a pair of familiar figures in the crowd.
"Brodda, she was a dwarf, and a talented with a flute was it? I think we may have seen each other on several occassion, but formally introduced I do not recall. I heard more about her music mostly."
Listens about the crime and what happened.
"Yes that is a unique situation, and it seems that it has all worked out for the better in the end. Kirby is gone, father and son have been reunited. Plus a really nice party to welcome them back. I could not think of much more to make it better, but I am sure they could."
"Daron? How is he doing? I am not really sure why he left the guild, but he was a good friend who helped get headed in the right direction here in the city."
"Well there were three suits of armor when we encountered that white wolf looking for Khan's camp that were halfling size. Is anyone using those? I think only four more would be necessary unless the group has grown recently?
I would like to help as well, I have a finely crafted chain shirt that I have not used since I aquired the one off the witch that cut off Hermy's finger. With the credit from the Iron Wolf on that we might get a couple more suits of leather or perhaps studded leather."
*Tensek shakes his head atthe brashness of Aramil and pauses for a second as he considers what he could do for Blackstar.*
Money, goods, alcohol... What do you want?
Blackstar shakes his head. "You can't give me what I want."
He shrugs. "So why don't we start with what ya can get me."
"Do you speak elvish boy?"
"It must take some getting used to," Kywyn agrees.
"Have you ever considered writing down your stories to share them? Your own experiences are more interesting than what a lot of authors could come up with."
"Of course, I get that privacy is a good thing. But you seem to have a passion for words," he adds mildly.
Kywyn spots a pair of familiar figures in the crowd.
The older halfling nods. "There's really not much to write about. I'd prefer not to think about my time in the mines, and my time in Walnet Valley, well. probably the only thing more boring then copying papers and taking notes is reading about someone copying papers and taking notes."
He pauses. "I suppose I could write about my life before I went away. It wasn't all that exciting, but it was happy. Up til a certain point at least. And it would be nice for Hermy to learn a bit more about his mother."
Hermy Jr. nods. "I'ds likes that. I don'ts really knows anything abouts her. Just her name an that she was pretty."
Hermy Sr. tries to hide a sniffle. "That she was."
"An I'ds really likes to learns more about yer stuff too. Don'ts worry about it bein boring."
"A lot of heroing is boring too until ya here abouts it after its done."
"Ise sure ya coulds makes even writin a story about doin nothin interestin. Minto does it with his songs on occasion."
"Minto is an extroidinary entertainer. I'm just an average writer."
"Well yer a good storyteller. One of the Mooney kids tolds me so, an my students really liked yer bedtime stories too."
"Just tell the story an write it down like you was takin notes fer someone."
Hermy grins. "Besides you is a good writer guy, an Ise gots the book ta prove it."
Both Woodhomes notice Kywyn looking at someone in the crowd and turn to look.
"Hey it's Gamis an Mary Ale!"
"Dad, you'll likes these guys"
"The labyrinth, and the caretaker Clarice, yes I know about that. Well that is good that he found some good news. After Alissa and Major, I was begining to wonder what was going to happen next to Hermy. He has had rough year, and hopefully it will do nothing, but get better from now on."
Minto nods. "Getting his father back is a good start."
"Brodda, she was a dwarf, and a talented with a flute was it? I think we may have seen each other on several occassion, but formally introduced I do not recall. I heard more about her music mostly."
"I think that's how most bards would prefer to be remembered."
Listens about the crime and what happened.
"Yes that is a unique situation, and it seems that it has all worked out for the better in the end. Kirby is gone, father and son have been reunited. Plus a really nice party to welcome them back. I could not think of much more to make it better, but I am sure they could."
"I'm sure they can as well. The party's nice and all, but it doesn't quite make up for twenty years apart. Hopefully another twenty years and more together will.
"Daron? How is he doing? I am not really sure why he left the guild, but he was a good friend who helped get headed in the right direction here in the city."
"Not as drunk as I expected."
"I'm thinking something must have changed in him while he was in that hell plane. Truthfully I'd be more surprised if it didn't. Theres something strange about a man who can die and spend weeks being tortured in inconceivable ways that doesn't come back from it strange."
"I suspect he left the guild because of the memories of that. The guild probably reminded him how he got in that condition in the first place. I'm guessing he's just trying to stat a new life. One free of demons and their pitchforks. Can't really blame him for that either."
"I never met him before that, but from the way Hermy talks about him, and everyone else he helped, he was indeed a very good friend. Still is. Once he found out Hermy needed help he jumped in with both feet without looking."
"Well there were three suits of armor when we encountered that white wolf looking for Khan's camp that were halfling size. Is anyone using those? I think only four more would be necessary unless the group has grown recently?
Minto's face wrinkles up at the mention of the goblin armor. "Have you had a chance to smell that armor? Or see how atrocious it looks? Goblin's definetly don't take looking good into consideration when they make that stuff."
"And Hermy's followers need to look good. Hermy can get away with not keeping up appearances because well, he's got actions to back him up, but the students don't."
"If they look bad, it reflects badly on Hermy. And, well, quite frankly, ithat armor makes my etes water."
"I suppose I could ask Aramil to see what he can do with them, they might be salvagable, but theres still not enough for all of them. And they fight enough without giving them something to fight over."
"Now that Hermy's got some free time, maybe we should look into getting more. I can spend a few days performing, or craft a few wands to sell to get the money. Maybe even try making that magic beer I was considering."
I would like to help as well, I have a finely crafted chain shirt that I have not used since I aquired the one off the witch that cut off Hermy's finger. With the credit from the Iron Wolf on that we might get a couple more suits of leather or perhaps studded leather."
Minto smiles. "Very generous of you, but they aren't really your responsability."
"How about you buy some of my magic beer once I get it brewed and I'll use the profit from that to equip them? I was hopping Brodda would get first crack at it, but since she's gone..." A breif shadow of darkness passes over the bards face, "Since she's gone I could really use someone else to try it out."
"A dwarf really isn't the best test subject anyhow when it comes to beer. Hard to tewll if you used to much magic, or she just drank to much."
Minto smiles.
"I'm thinking something must have changed in him while he was in that hell plane. Truthfully I'd be more surprised if it didn't. Theres something strange about a man who can die and spend weeks being tortured in inconceivable ways that doesn't come back from it strange."
Nods "Yes he did seem different, and more sullen after that."
"Now that Hermy's got some free time, maybe we should look into getting more. I can spend a few days performing, or craft a few wands to sell to get the money. Maybe even try making that magic beer I was considering."[/color]
"That reminds me Silmarwen mentioned something about one of her wands being used up and needing to get another. I can ask her to come see you."
Minto smiles. "How about you buy some of my magic beer once I get it brewed and I'll use the profit from that to equip them? I was hopping Brodda would get first crack at it, but since she's gone..." A breif shadow of darkness passes over the bards face, "Since she's gone I could really use someone else to try it out."
"A dwarf really isn't the best test subject anyhow when it comes to beer. Hard to tewll if you used to much magic, or she just drank to much."
Minto smiles.
"Magic beer? What is it supposed to do?
"Turn somone invisable, make them faster or more graceful. I think I figured out a way to infuse my spells into liquids."
"Haven't tested it yet though."[/color]
"Good taste isn't something often associated with them." Minto winks.
"Any effects you have a need for?"
"For effects, I have always found a use for being faster, and since I do not know anyone who can hide as good as Hermy invisibility is always a plus."
"As a matter of fact, I think I found away to cure the biggest drawback to invisability."
"If I hit a slightly higher note singing the last word, I think I can make it so attacking while invisable is an option. I'm not sure how to put that into a beer yet though, so I'll just stick with the standard casting for now."
Minto hums something to himself and then shrugs. "I am not sure how much it's going to cost to make these or how long it will take but I'll try and make you a pair of each."
"We can discuss price after I get them done."
"Probably still there. Hermy's father is a decent storyteller. And you'll never find a better audience then children."
"Probably be there for hours."
Minto finish his drink.
"I've got my own audience to attend to. I'll have one of the boys get in touch with you when the beers done brewing."
Minto unslings his lute and gives it a quick tune before heading back out into the crowd.
Blackstar shakes his head. "You can't give me what I want."
He shrugs. "So why don't we start with what ya can get me."
"Do you speak elvish boy?"
*tensek shakes his head dejectedly*
No but I do know some that do.
As Darkar gets closer Hermy waves at him too. "Hey! Darkar! Over here! Comes met my dad!"
The Elder Woodhome blushes a bit. "Pleasure to met you."
He turns to walk away. "How da you expects me to teach you how to shoot if you can't follow simple elvish commands?"
"Túla!!"
He gives Tensek a backwards glance to see if he is following.
"Hello, Hermy, Kywyn, Gamis, Mirielle." nodding to each in turn.
Spotting Hermy's father he gives him another nod.
"You must be Hermy's father. I am a friend of your son, my name is Darkar Shadowood." He offers his hand in friendship
Blackstar shakes his head. "We'll I don't want to meet them."
He turns to walk away. "How da you expects me to teach you how to shoot if you can't follow simple elvish commands?"
"Túla!!"
He gives Tensek a backwards glance to see if he is following.
*Although Tensek stands there for a moment trying to figure out what Blackstar says. Kiara is hot on the elderly mans heels.*
"It's refreshing to see, rather then just hear, how well he's done for himself."
Hermy Jr. smiles. "I done good right."
"Right."
The elder woodhome looks up at all the people. "I do hope you are enjoying the party."
Mirielle Dyer, she enunciates clearly.
Darkar presents Hermy Sr. with the bottle of elven wine.
"I know it may not be good as pie, but I was never good at picking good food."
"We got here just in time for the archery contest, but that was quite enjoyable. And the food smells quite good."
.oO(Should've thought to bring a gift, too... Damn.)
He then takes the wine from Darkar. "I get pie a lot more then I get wine. Thank you."
And then the older halfling responds to Gamis. "It does more then just smell good. It tastes good too."
"Eat up. There's an old halfling proverb. Let's see how did that go."
"It's not a succesful party if there's leftovers."
"Yes, yes I believe that's it."
Hermy Jr. looks at his father. "Ise never heard that one before."
Hermy Sr. shrugs. "I just made it up. But I didn't say the proverb was ol;d just the halfling."
"And I'm old."
He smiles as he watches his son scratch his head.
*Although Tensek stands there for a moment trying to figure out what Blackstar says. Kiara is hot on the elderly mans heels.*
Blackstar mutters as he walks. "Dogs smarter then he is."
"Maybe I should try training it instead."
He turns back to the ranger. "Have ya trained this mutt to fetch yet? I'm still waiting for that drink."
*And without another thought Aramil goes off to find his brother, he finds him easily enough and sits down next to him, he takes a large gulp of his ale and then relaxes, trying to get his mind off of the old man.
.oO(I'm startin to envy me brudder fer not leavin the kingdom....)
Marroc notices the two dwarves and hands his washrag and dirty glass to Boirin. "Be roight back me boyo. Oi see soimone Oi moight wanna 'ave a word with."
Marroc hops down from the wagon and hobbles over to where the Dunskar brothers sit. He clears his throat and sets a new round down in front of them before turning to face Oskar.
"Pardon me fer askin, but oar ya new in town? Oi know Aramil 'ere but Oi dunna think Oi've met ya before?"
"Gamis. Mirielle. Darkar," Kywyn greets quietly.
The pallid clan man steps back a foot to make room for all the well-wishers. Kywyn stays quiet and receptive to the conversation of the others.
Blackstar mutters as he walks. "Dogs smarter then he is."
"Maybe I should try training it instead."
He turns back to the ranger. "Have ya trained this mutt to fetch yet? I'm still waiting for that drink."
*Tensek jogs forwards and frowns.*
I never offered you a drink and yes I have taught her how to fetch.
He then takes the wine from Darkar. "I get pie a lot more then I get wine. Thank you."
"The man I bought the wine from recommend a tender pheasent cooked with a honey glaze to go with the wine."
Turns back to Hermy
"I am not sure I would have been able to go after that Blackstar guy and do as well as you did. He is intimidating with his skill with a bow."
Marroc notices the two dwarves and hands his washrag and dirty glass to Boirin. "Be roight back me boyo. Oi see soimone Oi moight wanna 'ave a word with."
Marroc hops down from the wagon and hobbles over to where the Dunskar brothers sit. He clears his throat and sets a new round down in front of them before turning to face Oskar.
"Pardon me fer askin, but oar ya new in town? Oi know Aramil 'ere but Oi dunna think Oi've met ya before?"
*As Marroc comes over Aramil and Oskar both bow to him.
"Well hullo Marroc! Its been a long time hasn't it? Oh yes I forgot ter tell ye. This is me big brudder, Oskar! He's the family cleric, so that why you haven't seen him before. The family wouldn't let him come with me here."
*Aramil smiles and then Oskar bows to Marroc.
"It is my pleasure to meet ye Marroc, so tell me, what do ye do in this good ol' town of Garics?"
"Nobody's Inn."
Marroc pulls out his pipe and starts packing it.
"Just caime froim 'ome eh? Oi've got a dwarf friend 'oo recently returned 'ome ta take up a position as Loremistress. Not froim yer clan though."
"Oi suspect being the family cleric is a similiar obligation though."
"'ow much spare toime did ya 'ave back 'ome fer takin care o' personal buisness? It weren't all work an no play was it?"
"I wasn't to concerned about winning anyhow. It was just fer fun anyhow."
"Ifen it had been somethin serious likes badguys we were shootin at... hopefully that guy woulds be on our side. An coulds shot as good when it counts."
"Who is he anyhow? I aint never seen him around before?"
Hermy's father pipes in. "Blackstar probably isn't his real name. Unless its a family one. Humans don't tend to name their children things like that. That's more of an elvish thing if its a first name."
"Though it could be dwarven as well if its a last name. Though they tend to focus on things more related to stone and earth."
"It could also be a nickname or a title given to him. I'd suspect someone with that kind of skill might have earned himself a nickname or two."
Hermy looks at his father. Hermy Sr. shrugs. "I read a lot."
"Maybe the archer came from further away for the contest," Kywyn says absently to no one in particular.
Looks over to Dak and gives the boy a smile.
"Kywyn, I found some scrolls that were on Praen in my pack last week when I was looking for something. It seems I forgot about those when we had everything else identified. Perhaps if you had sometime later I could get them for you."
Turning to Gamis, and Miri.
"I heard that you took sometime off a while back did you do anything special?"
Oh, we went to Lilac Ford. I met Gamis' family...
"I'm sure within a day of the planning of this party started word had already reached Brannon's Run."
"And there's far to much pie here for this to have been planned in less then a week. They might have even heard about it in Reise the way halflings gossip."
Hermy blushes and mutters to himself. "I didn'ts here about it."
"Kywyn, I found some scrolls that were on Praen in my pack last week when I was looking for something. It seems I forgot about those when we had everything else identified. Perhaps if you had sometime later I could get them for you."
"That sounds good, Darkar," replies Kywyn to the elf.
The wizard's name revists an old wound that has since faded, but Kywyn's face remains unchanged.
Have you been teaching Minto to be sneaky?
She nods at Darkar, and comments It is a lovely place, and the trip was relatively uneventful. No trolls. But we encountered a nasty creature that was using troglodytes to harass the community. We took care of it, of course.
"We met a centaur, actually. He was chasing a gnoll through the wilderness. He wasn't too friendly, but interesting. Otherwise the trip up was... pretty sedentary. It wasn't bad, not having to fight bandits off."
"A centaur, I have never encounterd one, makes me wonder if they are all unfriendly or just the one you met."
She nods at Darkar, and comments It is a lovely place, and the trip was relatively uneventful. No trolls. But we encountered a nasty creature that was using troglodytes to harass the community. We took care of it, of course.
"Where is Lilac Ford in relation to the city?"
Hermy Sr.'s face lights up. "A centuar? Near here? Oh my! How exciting!"
"You didn't happen to get it's name did you? There are a lot of stories about centaurs, but the same names tend to pop up. Perhaps yours is one of those?"
"Wouldn't that be wonderful Hermy? Your friends may have met someone famous." The elder halfling smiles exciteditly at his son.
"Um, Ise famous dad."
"Oh, my. Yes, yes. You certainly are. I meant they may have met someone famous from the stories in the book I left you." Hermy Sr. blushes.
"Um..." The paladin wracks his brain for a moment. "It was something starting with an 'M,' I think... Menna-something."
She chuckles ruefully, Fearful of outsiders, as so many communities are.
He winks at his son. "You are still the most famous person your friends know."
Hermy blushes again. His father puts an arm around his shoulder and smiles. Hermy smiles back.
.oO(More famous than Lord Malifaeyr? I think not...)
Blacstar gives Tensek a level stare. "I've noticed that boy."
*Tensek meets Blackstar's gaze. Responding calmly.*
You want a drink?
.oO(Almost as bad as Kai...)
Do you remember all the tales
About the Hero we know so welll.
But do you know how he found his dad?
For his father Hermy yearned
But his name he had not learned
A fact that mad him sad.
A mother's spirit told him to look
For a name in his long cherished book
They shared the same name his father and he
Then Sir Hermy set out to track him down
He searched high and low the entire town
For clues where his father might be.
His father was sent to the mines
For his oldest sons crimes
For killing a priest of the Son.
Captain Kerris made sure the trial was hurried
For about the truth, Kerris wasn't worried
That day, Justice was not done.
Long forgotten, long thought dead
He couldn't survive the mines it was said
And they were not wrong
But Hermy Senior's skill with pen and ink
Made the mine foreman think
And his contract was sold before long.
To Walnet Valley Hermy Senior went
To twenty years of servitude sent
Everday long and the same
But Sir Hermy tracked Kerris down
And brought her back to town
To clear his fathers name.
She confessed to having done wrong
As everyone knew all along
A writ was given to set Hermy Senior free
The road was long and danger everywhere
Spidercrabs tried to stop him, Sir Hermy did not care
He would reach his dad in Walnet Valley.
The nights were cold, Sir Hermy did not mope
He never worried, He never lost hope
He knew what he was questing for.
Once there he found where his father was living
And to his employers the writ of freedom was given.
Hermy Sr. came home free once more.
Minto pauses to let his audience applaud.
Boirin takes the rag from Marroc and carefully wipes down the glass. Since its a momentary break in the rush for booze, Boirin tries his best to not eavesdrop on Marroc, its not that easy for someone like Boirn. He catches Aramil's eye for a moment and nods to the fellow dwarf, well sort of. He continues to ply his trade and after a moment looks around and pulls out a jar with a peice of parchment slipped round the inside. It says "TIPS" in Boirin's angular rune-like handwriting, it has a couple coppers in it, to maybe net some customers.
Most of the customers don't seem to notice the jar at first. They few that do toss in a few coppers.
Eventually a few drunk halflings notice the jar and start an impromptu game of coin tossing. By the time they run out of coins, and/or pass out Boirin has roughly thirty or so copper coins in his jar.
He starts to get bored with this again so, he has an idea on how to make it more entertaining. So after awhile he starts to toss and play around with the glasses. A toss under the arm into that hand, then a quick fill. He even juggles here and there. However, he does it in such a way as to not hold up the line. Hopefully this will be more entertaining for those buying drinks.
[ooc: sleight of hand +14]
Kywyn claps politely when Minto finishes his ballad.
"How did you meet Minto anyway?" Kywyn asks of Hermy, remembering a time when the halfling traveled alone.
"I don't know if I've ever heard that story."
Blackstar rolls his eyes."Can you hit a running stag at a hundred paces?"
Will you teach me?
.oO(You could try...)
"Who do you usually compete with when minto isn't around?"
Will you teach me?
Blackstar looks at Yensek and then nods his head slowly.
"If you insist."
He points towards the beer wagon.
"First you move your right leg, and then your left like this." The old man shuffles his feet. "Once you've managed to do that, keep moving them until you reach that wagon."
"Hand the guy juggling glasses a few coins. You know what those are don't you?"
"He'll give you an glass of brown liquid. It's called ale. Once you get that, move your legs again and come back here and give me the glass."
"Try not to spill it."
He smirks. "Think you can manage that?"
Boirin doesn't object when halflings start metephorically throwing money into his pocket. So he buys them a round and watches them work. When the stop he smiles at his "TIPS"
He starts to get bored with this again so, he has an idea on how to make it more entertaining. So after awhile he starts to toss and play around with the glasses. A toss under the arm into that hand, then a quick fill. He even juggles here and there. However, he does it in such a way as to not hold up the line. Hopefully this will be more entertaining for those buying drinks.
[ooc: sleight of hand +14]
The bartender get's a round of applause, and another two dozen copper coins in apprectiation for his performance.
The sounds of a few glasses shattering as they hit the ground ring out. Marroc glances over at the red faced halflings who tried to imitate Boirin and sighs.
Lucian looks at the halfling, surprised by his answer.
.oO(You could try...)
"Who do you usually compete with when minto isn't around?"
The halfling shrugs. "I don't usually compete with anyone."
"I'm kinda an amauteur. At least compared to most of the other minstrels around here."
"And compared to Minto so are most the other bards around here."
"The only one here that's even close to his level is Rillelíra over there." He points towards an elf playing a harp for a decent sized crowd on the outskirts of the party. "If you want someone foolish enough to try and upstage Minto in front of a crowd like this, he's your elf."
With Dakarai yawning and getting sleepy, Kywyn considers it might almost be time to take him home for a nap. Dak moves to sit with his silver-haired mother on the bench nearby.
Kywyn claps politely when Minto finishes his ballad.
"How did you meet Minto anyway?" Kywyn asks of Hermy, remembering a time when the halfling traveled alone.
"I don't know if I've ever heard that story."
Hermy claps for his minsrel as well. "Ise not really sure."
"He just showded up right after the witch stole my finger off and helped Gamis heal it up. An talked me inta learnin how ta swing my sword without usin that finger fer extra grip."
"I aint got as much strength in my swing now, but I cin swing it faster an sharper now without that finger gettin in the way. See.." Hermy starts to draw his sword, his father puts a hand on his to stop him.
"This isn't really the place for swinging weapons around. I'm sure you can demenstrate your technique later somewhere less crowded." He smiles kindly. "An where you'll have more time to tell me about this witch that stole your finger."
"But for now, I'd like to know how you met Minto as well."
Hermy nods and lets go of his sword hilt.
"Well likes I said, I don'ts know why he showded up for sure. He just did claimin ta be my minstrel. Every hero needs a minstrel he used ta always say."
"Once when he was drunk, I heards him thank Marroc fer sendin him ta me, so I expects Marroc probably knows hows he heard of me before he started singing songs about me."
Hermy shrugs again. "Or maybe he just heard about my pants and wanted ta see hows I pulled off wearing them."
"I think he was joking when he said that, but its hard to tell. Minto's a little funny when it comes to clothes."
[i]Blackstar looks at Yensek and then nods his head slowly.
"If you insist."
He points towards the beer wagon....]
*Tensek does his level best to stay calm with Blackstar.*
I wanted to know if you will you train me to shoot like you?
"Good that he found you."
Kywyn takes a step back to scan around the crowd in the street.
Marroc gives Oskar a small nod. "Oi run an inn 'ere in town."
"Nobody's Inn."
Marroc pulls out his pipe and starts packing it.
"Just caime froim 'ome eh? Oi've got a dwarf friend 'oo recently returned 'ome ta take up a position as Loremistress. Not froim yer clan though."
"Oi suspect being the family cleric is a similiar obligation though."
"'ow much spare toime did ya 'ave back 'ome fer takin care o' personal buisness? It weren't all work an no play was it?"
*Both of the brothers listen quietly as Marroc talks to them, though he mainly talks to Oskar. Aramil listens quietly and adds whatever he can if the situation calls for him.
"Ah Loremistress ye say, well i've heard of em' but never met one meself. Heh, well I tend to think that most of me time working was me spare time, so I couldn't really say that it was all work and no play. The job I do fer me family is highly respectable so therefore I took heart in wat I did and didn't care how much free time I had fer meself."
*As the two continue to talk Aramil's mind drifts off, and when he snaps back too he realizes that he missed most of Oskar's answer. He shrugs his shoulders and looks around in the crowd to see if he recognizes anyone. He sees the bar and pats his brother on the back, letting him know that he is going to get some drinks. Oskar gives him a slight nod, then turns his attention back to Marroc. Aramil makes his way over to the bar and orders a couple of drinks. Then he takes his time winding his way back to Marroc and Oskar. Meanwhile Oskar listens intently to every word that Marroc has to say, as if his next word would mean if Oskar would be alive or dead.
"[dwarven]Greetings Aramil, I hope your doing well[/dwarven] What can I get for you today."
"Ah Loremistress ye say, well i've heard of em' but never met one meself. Heh, well I tend to think that most of me time working was me spare time, so I couldn't really say that it was all work and no play. The job I do fer me family is highly respectable so therefore I took heart in wat I did and didn't care how much free time I had fer meself."
Meanwhile Oskar listens intently to every word that Marroc has to say, as if his next word would mean if Oskar would be alive or dead.
Marroc nods along as Oskar speaks, and when he breaks to take a swallow of his drink, Marroc speaks up.
"Then whoi oar ya 'ere?"
"Shoudna ya be back 'ome doin yer duties?"
"That is a nice story about Minto, I did not know that is how he arrived in Garic's City. So what about the other halflings, and Rilla, how did they decide to come to train with you Hermy?"
"Well," Hermy begins, "Davvo,Dirkko, Mick, Vivvo, an Nige are all from Brannon's Run. I went there with Minto an Mister Haltuck ta take Baby Kirby to his grandparents."
He turns to his father briefly. "Dids I mention I hads a baby once. Well actually I didn'ts. His mom did, but I was the one who delivered him. I'll has ta tell ya that story later tonight."
He turns back to Darkar.
"Anyhows. When we was in Brannons Run I saved the town from some of Kone's army. Well, actually me an Minto an Warmbutt the Ogre did, but anyways the city was saved."
"The sherriff of the town askeded me to take the boys back with me so Ise coulds train them so ifen the city was in danger again there'd be someones ta saves it ifen I was off savin someother city or sumethin likes that."
"We lefts Warmbutt there ta protect the city until theys ready."
"Ifen they evers will be. Ise not sure that's what they want to do anymore."
Hermy shrugs.
"Ise not really sure when Will an Phill an Rilla showed up. I went ta find the mummy with Kywyn an NaShae, an when I gots back, they had joined up."
*Tensek does his level best to stay calm with Blackstar.*
I wanted to know if you will you train me to shoot like you?
Blackstar starts to walk away. "An I wanted ta see if you could follow simple directions."
"I guess we both got our answers."
Marroc nods along as Oskar speaks, and when he breaks to take a swallow of his drink, Marroc speaks up.
"Then whoi oar ya 'ere?"
"Shoudna ya be back 'ome doin yer duties?"
*Oskar nods his head agreeing with Marroc.
"Heh, yes, but me family felt that I have earned a long break, and I intended to use this break to visit me brudder. So thats why I'm here, but I figure that me parents gave me this break so they can hear aboot Aramil when we go back ter visit."
*Oskar takes a gulp of his own drink that was shoved in his hand by Aramil, then he continues his conversation with Marroc while Aramil is off talking to the Horde.
"Well if ye don't mind me askin, how did ye come here?"
Boirin sees Aramil come over and he nods to him.
"[dwarven]Greetings Aramil, I hope your doing well[/dwarven] What can I get for you today."
*Aramil looks around when someone spoke to him, trying to figure out who was speaking to him. When he saw Boirin, he smiles and greets him back.
"Well hullo their Boirin. Just a beer would be nice fer now. So how have ye been?"
*Aramil takes a gulp of his beer once Boirin gives him the drink, then he waits patiently for him to reply.
"Ifen they evers will be. Ise not sure that's what they want to do anymore."
"Really, that is too bad, I thought they were starting to make some progress finally. Just look at how well some of them did in the archery contest."
*Aramil looks around when someone spoke to him, trying to figure out who was speaking to him. When he saw Boirin, he smiles and greets him back.
"Well hullo their Boirin. Just a beer would be nice fer now. So how have ye been?"
*Aramil takes a gulp of his beer once Boirin gives him the drink, then he waits patiently for him to reply.
"Pretty good. I've just got off an adventure where I got some pretty cool new gear. Um other than that I just serve the drinks. Hows by you?"
"Really, that is too bad, I thought they were starting to make some progress finally. Just look at how well some of them did in the archery contest."
Hermy nods.
"Oh, theys making progress. Even Nige is froms what I hears. But I don't thinks they want to go backs to Brannons Run ta be it's protectors."
"I thinks theys got other dreams an goals an stuff like that."
"Davvo wants to be a wandering warrior poet or somethin like that. An theres only so much wanderin you can do back at home."
"Dirkko wants ta invent things and figures out mysteries. Not many mysteries in Brannons Run other then what's for dinner tomorrow."
"Mick and Vivvo wants to be great warriors, and thats hard ta do when yer stuck in a small town like that. Theres not enough people to fight ifen yer doin yer job of protectin the place."
"Nige is the only one with a chance of getting his goal there. Well at least as much of a chance there as anywhere else. But he doesn't want to be a protector. He wants to be a cat."
"I think Will an Phil might be willing to go there someday even though it aint their home. Theys from Garics."
"I don'ts know about Rilla. Shes a girl, an even though I married one, Ise never been able to figure outs how they thinks."
*Oskar takes a gulp of his own drink that was shoved in his hand by Aramil, then he continues his conversation with Marroc while Aramil is off talking to the Horde.
"Well if ye don't mind me askin, how did ye come here?"
Marroc shrugs. "On moi feet."
"Oi used ta adventure back when Oi was younger. But ya cin only do that fer so long before ya start ta lose yer edge."
"Most moi adventurin companians 'ad died or settled down, so Oi figured Oi moight give it a shot as well."
"Moi friend Daron 'Aldar was the guard captain 'ere, Oi figured this moight be a good place ta troi an make an 'onest livin."
"Where do they all stay?" he asks.
Marroc shrugs. "On moi feet."
"Oi used ta adventure back when Oi was younger. But ya cin only do that fer so long before ya start ta lose yer edge."
"Most moi adventurin companians 'ad died or settled down, so Oi figured Oi moight give it a shot as well."
"Moi friend Daron 'Aldar was the guard captain 'ere, Oi figured this moight be a good place ta troi an make an 'onest livin."
*Oskar chuckles at Marroc's reply then he listens to what he has to say, and lastly he nods in agreement.
"I hear what yer sayin, though it is rare for a dwarf to actually retire from his duties, but we still have a select few that retire due to numerous reasons."
*Oskar pauses to take a drink then he continues.
"Ye say that ye used ter adventure, what exactly did ye do?"
"Pretty good. I've just got off an adventure where I got some pretty cool new gear. Um other than that I just serve the drinks. Hows by you?"
*Aramil smiles when he hears that Boirin has come back from another adventure, and this time with some new toy's.
"Well ye know that ye are going ter have ter show me some of yer neat new toys that ye got. But other then finishin that Mithril Chain Shirt for Mirrelle, I haven't done that much.... which I can tell ye is boring the 9 hell's out of me...."
Blackstar starts to walk away. "An I wanted ta see if you could follow simple directions."
"I guess we both got our answers."
*Tensek takes after the old man slowing down as he catches up with Blackstar.*
Hold on, that's not fair.
" Thanks for your time, but remember: You don't know me."
the theif heads towards the next bard and listens to the elf play for some time.
"So many halflings...." Kywyn thinks as he hears Hermy's story.
"Where do they all stay?" he asks.
"In the Guild. The boys all has bunks in the guys bunkroom. Just likes me an Minto an Arc an Dumboven does."
"Rilla's gots the girls bunkroom to her self. At least fer now. Ise still hoping Area will comes back."
*Oskar chuckles at Marroc's reply then he listens to what he has to say, and lastly he nods in agreement.
"I hear what yer sayin, though it is rare for a dwarf to actually retire from his duties, but we still have a select few that retire due to numerous reasons."
*Oskar pauses to take a drink then he continues.
"Ye say that ye used ter adventure, what exactly did ye do?"
"Kill things an take their stuff."
Marroc takes a puff from his pipe. "Oi usually disarmed any traps that got in oar way, oar unlocked any pesky doors or chests that didna 'ave enough sense ta open up themselves for us."
*Tensek takes after the old man slowing down as he catches up with Blackstar.*
Hold on, that's not fair.
"Whats not fair about it? Neither of us gets what we want"
"You want someone to teach you but don't want to follow instructions. That's what don't seem fair to me."
"So unless yer willing to do what I tell you to do, gey lost. I've got better things to do then waste my time trying ta teach to someone who doesn't want to put any effort into learning."
Lucian nods to the halfling and slides him two gold.
" Thanks for your time, but remember: You don't know me."
the theif heads towards the next bard and listens to the elf play for some time.
The elf, Rillelíra, plays a long slow tune on his harp while singing in elvish a romantic ballad that couldn't be more the oppisite of Minto's humorous ditties.
When he finally finishes there are a few wet eyes in the crowd watching him, and several silver coins are tossed in his direction. The elf gives a wide bow to the audience.
"Nige is the only one with a chance of getting his goal there. Well at least as much of a chance there as anywhere else. But he doesn't want to be a protector. He wants to be a cat."
"A cat? Similar to what happened to Aric when he turned into a rat?" The confusion is evident on his face.
"They are still kids, aren't they?" he turns to Hermy.
"I think it's one of those things that makes more sense when you are a kid," Kywyn offers to Darkar.
"They are still kids, aren't they?" he turns to Hermy.
Hermy sucks in his cheeks and looks up before answering."I aint sure."
"They aint quite kids anymore, but they aint quite grownups likes we is either."
"They still does a lots of stupid things an stuffs likes that, but they... well... um... its kinda hard ta say."
Hermy shrugs.
"They don'ts thinks theys kids."
"They thinks theys ready fer doin grown up stuff, an theys sometimes does, but they sometimes still does kids stuff too."
Hermy glances around to see if any of his followers are within earshot.
"Don'ts tell them I told you but theys still sometimes plays with toys. I caughts them playin with these little metal figures yesterday. Pushin them around pretendin they was knights an wizards an elves an that kind of stuff."
"You know, nots the kind of stuff guys likes us would do."
*Aramil smiles when he hears that Boirin has come back from another adventure, and this time with some new toy's.
"Well ye know that ye are going ter have ter show me some of yer neat new toys that ye got. But other then finishin that Mithril Chain Shirt for Mirrelle, I haven't done that much.... which I can tell ye is boring the 9 hell's out of me...."
"Hmmm, thats not good it sounds like you could use another adventure. Without one who knows you may go insane with only working in fine materials. Adventure always clears the mind. I think if it weren't for adventure I'd be tempted to use some of my skills like a criminal.
Boirin shakes his head at the thought of criminals.
"Anyway you sure seem to be doing well for yaself. I seem to just end up serving drinks all night while and wandering about during the day. Sometimes I can't stand the smell of ale... but then I get thirsty and over it."
"Anyway whos the dwarf over there talking to Marroc. He looks a little like you."
So far the outing has been uneventful. Gilgiga was a little disapointed at missing the archery contest to talk to an old halfling gardener. After seeing the results however, he was a little less.
After a little shoping, Doc directed Gilgiga to Nobody's Stand for a quick drink.
He sets the Gnome down on a conveinent crate and waits for the keep to be ready to order.
"Kill things an take their stuff."
Marroc takes a puff from his pipe. "Oi usually disarmed any traps that got in oar way, oar unlocked any pesky doors or chests that didna 'ave enough sense ta open up themselves for us."
*Oskar again laughs at Marroc for his first statment, then when he listens to the rest of his statment he nods his head.
"Well then ye were very useful in yer group. Ye must have earned a lot of respect from yer peers while ye were still adventurein, huh?"
"Hmmm, thats not good it sounds like you could use another adventure. Without one who knows you may go insane with only working in fine materials. Adventure always clears the mind. I think if it weren't for adventure I'd be tempted to use some of my skills like a criminal.
Boirin shakes his head at the thought of criminals.
"Anyway you sure seem to be doing well for yaself. I seem to just end up serving drinks all night while and wandering about during the day. Sometimes I can't stand the smell of ale... but then I get thirsty and over it."
"Anyway whos the dwarf over there talking to Marroc. He looks a little like you."
*Aramil listens to Boirin talk and nods his head in agreement while he is talking. Then when Boirin points off in the direction of Oskar, Aramil turns his head to see who he is talking about. Then he smiles and tells Boirin:
"Oi him.... Thats just me brudder, Oskar. Most people think we are twins, but we aren't, he's me older brudder by 5 years. Ye can meet him if ye like...."
Hermy glances around to see if any of his followers are within earshot.
"Don'ts tell them I told you but theys still sometimes plays with toys. I caughts them playin with these little metal figures yesterday. Pushin them around pretendin they was knights an wizards an elves an that kind of stuff."
"You know, nots the kind of stuff guys likes us would do."
Kywyn mimcs Hermy's look around before knowing what the halfling is being cautious of.
"It's a good thing to have imagination, Hermy," Kywyn remarks, "Best thing about young people is the capacity to believe in things. The more you grow and experience in the world, the more the shadows lengthen and accumulate behind you. It's easy to lose track of the wonder, and that's dangerous."
"Grown-ups are a mess," he adds with a wisp of matter-of-fact tone.
"Maybe you should try playing their games with them sometime."
*Aramil listens to Boirin talk and nods his head in agreement while he is talking. Then when Boirin points off in the direction of Oskar, Aramil turns his head to see who he is talking about. Then he smiles and tells Boirin:
"Oi him.... Thats just me brudder, Oskar. Most people think we are twins, but we aren't, he's me older brudder by 5 years. Ye can meet him if ye like...."
"Maybe when I go off shift I can talk to him but right now I'm on duty... maybe later."
As he says this the crowd of Halflings push harder towards the Stand. Though Boirin was serving drinks while he talked he has to use more of his attention to carry out this task. A half-orc comes up to the stand and Boirin glares slightly at it. He realizes its Gilgiga and his face goes blank.
"Can I help you."
"Whats not fair about it? Neither of us gets what we want"
"You want someone to teach you but don't want to follow instructions. That's what don't seem fair to me."
"So unless yer willing to do what I tell you to do, gey lost. I've got better things to do then waste my time trying ta teach to someone who doesn't want to put any effort into learning."
I... I apologise for my insolence. From here on forth I will do whatever it is you wish of me.
"Maybe when I go off shift I can talk to him but right now I'm on duty... maybe later."
As he says this the crowd of Halflings push harder towards the Stand. Though Boirin was serving drinks while he talked he has to use more of his attention to carry out this task. A half-orc comes up to the stand and Boirin glares slightly at it. He realizes its Gilgiga and his face goes blank.
"Can I help you."
"Just two drinks. One for Doc, one for me."
Gilgiga wonders why Boirin looks at him odd. But just passes it off as suprise and nothing more.
*Oskar again laughs at Marroc for his first statment, then when he listens to the rest of his statment he nods his head.
"Well then ye were very useful in yer group. Ye must have earned a lot of respect from yer peers while ye were still adventurein, huh?"
Marroc shrugs. "Oi've never been oll that interested in wether soimeone respects me or not."
"It's gettin the job done that Oi care about."
"Respect is fleetin."
Kywyn mimcs Hermy's look around before knowing what the halfling is being cautious of.
"It's a good thing to have imagination, Hermy," Kywyn remarks, "Best thing about young people is the capacity to believe in things. The more you grow and experience in the world, the more the shadows lengthen and accumulate behind you. It's easy to lose track of the wonder, and that's dangerous."
"Grown-ups are a mess," he adds with a wisp of matter-of-fact tone.
"Maybe you should try playing their games with them sometime."
Hermy turns beet red and looks at a leaf blowing past. "Yeah. I'll has to do that sometime."
His father puts a hand up to his face to cover up the chuckle. "I don't think losing his imagination is something my son needs to worry about yet."
I... I apologise for my insolence. From here on forth I will do whatever it is you wish of me.
Blackstar taps his foot impatiently. "Well..."
"Just two drinks. One for Doc, one for me."
Gilgiga wonders why Boirin looks at him odd. But just passes it off as suprise and nothing more.
"Two drinks it is."
Boirin poors two drinks with a flourish and hads them to the half orc.
"There ya go, return the glass to the gnome,Boirin gesticulates towards the female gnome barmaid at the portable bar."When your done."
"Sorry about that. Finnias has been really enjoyin this party."
"Me too."
"Shame about the archer contest. I was pulling for you guys to all win."
"Hopefully you'll do better in the wrestling match tomorrow."
His father shrugs. "It's a party Hermy. You can't really expect it to be over in one day can you?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's a halfling party."
"You haven't been to one before?"
Hermy shakes his head again. "Well, um er no. Not really. Ise really hasn't been to too many halfling anythings."
His father frowns.
Blackstar taps his foot impatiently. "Well..."
Yes, yes, of course I'll go get it. Right now.
*Without a second biddign Tensek moves swiftly to the portable bar and orders a glass of ale.*
He stands next to Hermy.
"Are you going to enter, Hermy? That's a skill I've been trying to improve, especailly since the spidercrabs."
"I wonder if there are weight classes?"
The elf, Rillelíra, plays a long slow tune on his harp while singing in elvish a romantic ballad that couldn't be more the oppisite of Minto's humorous ditties.
When he finally finishes there are a few wet eyes in the crowd watching him, and several silver coins are tossed in his direction. The elf gives a wide bow to the audience.
Lucian approaches the elf with a bow.
"Good afternoon, sir. I was wondering if you wqould be intrested in a contest of sorts."
Yes, yes, of course I'll go get it. Right now.
*Without a second biddign Tensek moves swiftly to the portable bar and orders a glass of ale.*
The rangers order is filled and he makes his way back through the throng of party goers to give the mug to Blackstar. the old man shakes his head.
"It's no good."
"You spilled some." He tilts his head towards a few drops of liquid on the side of the mug. "Go back and gets it topped off again."
"And this time keep it more steady when you bring it back."
"When I say I want a drink, I want a drink, not half a drink."
Lucian approaches the elf with a bow.
"Good afternoon, sir. I was wondering if you wqould be intrested in a contest of sorts."
The elf bends down to gather up some thrown coins and looks up at Lucien. "What sort of contest?"
"Wrestling, eh?" Kywyn considers softly.
He stands next to Hermy.
"Are you going to enter, Hermy? That's a skill I've been trying to improve, especailly since the spidercrabs."
"I wonder if there are weight classes?"
Hermy shrugs. "Sure. Why's not."
"Ise pretty sure some of my students will get in it. The wrestle all the time when there aint even pie involved, and I can'ts expect them ta do somethin I wouldn'ts do. Right?"
He shrugs again. "I don'ts know about weight classes though. I guss that will depends on how many peoples enters."
"It don't seem right to not include the big guys just cause theres no one their size right?"
"I'd be intrested to see you compete against Minto, Sir Hermy's minstril. It seems to me that you have as much talent as him, if not more."
"An they useually aint very, um, quick aint the word Ise looking for."
"Gamis." Hermy looks to the paladin. "Why is it you can'ts move very carefully. I can't remember the word."
"Oh, an you'll be enterin too right?"
"An what about you Darkar. An you Mary Ale? There aint no rule about girls enterin is there?"
Hermy Woodhome Sr. blushes. "Well, I don't actually think there is a rule against it.."
Lucian bows.
"I'd be intrested to see you compete against Minto, Sir Hermy's minstril. It seems to me that you have as much talent as him, if not more."
The elf rolls his eyes slightly. "I have more talent in one hand then that buffon has in his entire body."
"He merely caters to the lowest common denominator with those... ditties... of his."
"He knows nothing about the art of crafting a true song. One that will last the ages rather then just until some new trend comes along."
He stands up. "I would be more then happy to take him down a notch or two."
The rangers order is filled and he makes his way back through the throng of party goers to give the mug to Blackstar. the old man shakes his head.
"It's no good."
"You spilled some." He tilts his head towards a few drops of liquid on the side of the mug. "Go back and gets it topped off again."
"And this time keep it more steady when you bring it back."
"When I say I want a drink, I want a drink, not half a drink."
*With a nod Tensek returns back to the bar to get it topped back off again. Uttering a thanks to the tender Tensek slowly makes his way back to Blackstar once again.*
Marroc shrugs. "Oi've never been oll that interested in wether soimeone respects me or not."
"It's gettin the job done that Oi care about."
"Respect is fleetin."
*Oskar, slowly scratches his beard as Marroc says this, he thinks deeply about something, then he snaps to as Aramil pats him on the back. Aramil bows his head to Marroc and then he slips away to find someone else to talk to.
"Those are very wise words indeed. I shall have ter remember that fer when I go on me first adventure. Thank ye Master Marroc. So tell me about yer home village afore ye came here."
*With a nod Tensek returns back to the bar to get it topped back off again. Uttering a thanks to the tender Tensek slowly makes his way back to Blackstar once again.*
Blackstar takes the drink, and then a big swallow from it. "Much better. Much better."
He gulps down the rest and then tosses the mug back. He smiles as Tensek catches it. "Good hands there. This time bring me two."
"Only use your left hand."
*Oskar, slowly scratches his beard as Marroc says this, he thinks deeply about something, then he snaps to as Aramil pats him on the back. Aramil bows his head to Marroc and then he slips away to find someone else to talk to.
"Those are very wise words indeed. I shall have ter remember that fer when I go on me first adventure. Thank ye Master Marroc. So tell me about yer home village afore ye came here."
"Not much ta tell oar Oi'd still be there."
"Brannon's Run, 'ave ya 'eard of it? A few days froim 'ere. Not much different froim the 'alflin quarter truth be told. Quiet little town full o'quiet little 'alflings goin about their daily buisness."
"Oim sure where yer froim is a lot more interestin."
Blackstar takes the drink, and then a big swallow from it. "Much better. Much better."
He gulps down the rest and then tosses the mug back. He smiles as Tensek catches it. "Good hands there. This time bring me two."
"Only use your left hand."
*Inwardly supressing a sigh Tensek heads off back to the bar this time getting two drinks and carrying both ales in his left hand he carefully picks his way back to Blackstar.*
Here you go.
*Inwardly supressing a sigh Tensek heads off back to the bar this time getting two drinks and carrying both ales in his left hand he carefully picks his way back to Blackstar.*
Here you go.
Taking the dribks, the old man takes a swallow from both. "Not bad."
"I suppose that I can have you do that blindfolded a bit later."
He staggers towards a table and finds an empty spot on it to sit.
"But for now I think you should fetch me somethin ta sit on a bit closer to the entertainment."
"Something that want get knocked over by all these little ruffians running about."
"A keg should do. A full one."
"I guess not," Kywyn nods, "Bigger guys probably have an advantage, but you never know."
Having listening to the conversation about wrestling and then hearing Kywyn's comment causes Darkar a moment to pause before answering.
"I think the only advantage would be able to reach the halfling from farther away. I remember trying to chase after Hermy before, we ran for several minutes before I could catch up with him. Even then he was difficult to get a handle on."
To Hermy
"Sure the contest sounds like fun, like the archery contest. I do not imagine that I would win, but I might learn something that might be very valuable down the road."
"Hmm... wel some people would rather live in yer type of town, rather then me kingdom, fully of busy people, louds noises, and the like. But hey I'm not one ter judge things like this. So what made ye leave yer little town?"
The innkeeper shrugs. "Curiosity Oi suppose."
"A bit o'a weakness o'moine."
"Oi loike ta know wots goin' on in the world around me."
"It took me a few years ta reloize Oi could do that boi just lissen rather then goin out an get in the midst o'things."
"Strength can definitely be found in small things."
"It'll be interesting to see any of the trained wrestlers join in," Kywyn turns to Hermy, "Ran would be good at it, I think."
That reminds Kywyn he had planned to seek Ran out at some point to see where the elf trains.
"Without him knowing hows ta uses a sword or cast spells an that's kindsa stuff, he best knows how to fights somehow."
"For a regular guy it probably aint to much of a problem, but Runs a member of the guild an we gets in a lot of fights."
He then strums a few chords and starts into another song.
"Hey da lolly, lolly lolly dee
Here's another song about Hermy.
Hey da lolly, lolly, lolly, lolly day
Listen along, to what I say....
"Ya nevers knows when they mights comes in handy."
"Likes when ya has ta capture someones alive or escape from, say a bloodtrolls grasp or somethin likes that."
He smiles. "An it sounds likes fun anyhow."
Taking the dribks, the old man takes a swallow from both. "Not bad."
"I suppose that I can have you do that blindfolded a bit later."
He staggers towards a table and finds an empty spot on it to sit.
"But for now I think you should fetch me somethin ta sit on a bit closer to the entertainment."
"Something that want get knocked over by all these little ruffians running about."
"A keg should do. A full one."
*Tensek blinks a few times than nods slowly before he turns and begins seeking out a full keg.*
"Yeah, maybe. Training as well," Kywyn explains to his familiar.
"Are you always on?" Hex croaks in sarcasm.
Kywyn folds his arms, creating a level perch for the small shadow.
"You must train a lot living at the guildhouse," the pale man says evenly to Hermy.
Kywyn looks to Darkar as well, "Where do you stay now, Darkar?"
As Minto's new song starts in the background, Kywyn cranes his neck slightly to catch a glimpse of the bard.
It does not have a wall to the outside next to it, and it is a bit warmer in the winter. The only drawback is that it is farther from my office than the others, but that seems trivial since I do not mind the walk."
"Ise been out of the city mores then Ise been in it fer the lst year. In facts the longest Ise been homes is now. An Ise been more bust tryin ta gets dad settled in, an trying ta takes care of all the stuff I aint had time to do before."
"Likes deal with Major."
"I aints even been ables ta do anything with Ashiner."
"Did you know where she was from? Perhaps if she had family there, they might know what she wanted done if the worst happened."
The innkeeper shrugs. "Curiosity Oi suppose."
"A bit o'a weakness o'moine."
"Oi loike ta know wots goin' on in the world around me."
"It took me a few years ta reloize Oi could do that boi just lissen rather then goin out an get in the midst o'things."
"I see."
*Oskar pauses and takes a generous gulp of his ale, then he sets his mug back down and responds to Marroc.
"So do ye think that ye'll ever go back?"
"Moi parents passed away awhoile ago, Oim not on toilkin terms with moi siblins, an Oi 'ave plenty o'cousins an wot not 'ere in Garics."
"An even more friends."
Marroc takes a big draw from his pipe.
"Maybe Oi'll 'ave Grack take moi body back there once Oi kick the bucket, but otherwoise Oi don't really see no reason ta 'ead back."
"Wot about ya? Oar ya 'ere for a visit oar oar ya thinkin o'settin up shop around 'ere?"
He does feel out of place among the many halflings, but he tries to ignore his feelings and continues to move around them.
Shocked at the incredible showing at the archery competition Dravenous politely applauds the later competetors. Afterwards he listens to Minto's songs before moving back through the crowd.
He does feel out of place among the many halflings, but he tries to ignore his feelings and continues to move around them.
The guardsman finds plenty to keep him busy. There are several arguments over old grudges that need outside interferance to keep from boiling over into fights, and more then a few drunken halflings that need to be escorted to out of the way corners so they aren't trampled on when they pass out.
Dravenous even spots a possible pick pocket making his way through the crowd, but by the time he can reach him, the halfling is gone.
The sounds of crying catch his attention, and a young halfling girl, probably no older the six catches his attention. "I can't find my mom."
*Tensek blinks a few times than nods slowly before he turns and begins seeking out a full keg.*
The beer wagon has several kegs. But the scowling half orc styanding guard over them doesn't look like the type to just let someone walk up and take one.
Marroc shrugs. "Aint really a reason ta go back."
"Moi parents passed away awhoile ago, Oim not on toilkin terms with moi siblins, an Oi 'ave plenty o'cousins an wot not 'ere in Garics."
"An even more friends."
Marroc takes a big draw from his pipe.
"Maybe Oi'll 'ave Grack take moi body back there once Oi kick the bucket, but otherwoise Oi don't really see no reason ta 'ead back."
"Wot about ya? Oar ya 'ere for a visit oar oar ya thinkin o'settin up shop around 'ere?"
*Oskar thinks about it for a second, then when he can't decide he calls Aramil over here. Aramil lumbers over to his brother and waits to see what it is. After Oskar relayed what Marroc told him, Aramil scratches his beard the same way Oskar did. Then he speaks.
"Well I would love ter open up me own shop, but I'm sure the SSAG wouldn't like that. So fer now I'll just work with em'. Oskar ye are more then welcome ter stay and work with me. I'll just have ter talk wit Volos ter see if we can work out some sort of pay fer ye."
*Aramil smiles to both Marroc and Oskar and pats his brother on the back. Then he quietly leaves again, and goes off to talk with someone. Meanwhile Oskar talks with Marroc again.
"Well another problem is the fact that if I'm allowed ter stay here that long er not. Oh well I suppose I'll have ter go back ter me kingdom with Aramil and we'll talk it out. Say... ye don't suppose that ye'll want ter come along wit us. I'm sure that ye would love ter see our kingdom. What do ye say?"
"Oi've got a business 'ere ta run."
Marroc takes another puff from his pipe.
"Does ya 'ave yer brother answer oll yer questions fer ya?"
"Oi know wot 'is plans oar, an Oi doubt 'is guild would be upset at losin 'im if 'e wanted ta start 'is own shop. Especially if 'e gave 'em a discount on services."
"But wot is it ye want ta do? Oi don't imagine ya really want ta spend oll yer toime in a forge do ya?"
"Not the most priestly activity if ya know wot Oim sayin."
"Ashina, too....." there is more than a bit of sadness in his voice.
"Did you know where she was from? Perhaps if she had family there, they might know what she wanted done if the worst happened."
Hermy shakes his head. "I didn't even know her name was Ashina until after Land died. I just called her the Songlady."
"I think she woulda liked this party, don't you? A lot a people ta hear her sing."
He shrugs. "She'd probably like the dog I named after her too, except fer the whole choosin the name ta honor a dead person part."
"He sang it last year at that festival at the Lost Lich."
Hermy smiles.
"It was pretty."
"And it was kinda nice ta hear a song that wasn't about me."
Stands up and begins looking around for Minto.
It seems to be about defeating the goblin warlord Kahn, but the those who were there for the battle are pretty sure he didn't have a dozen trolls as bodyguards.
"Minto, Hermy said that you knew one of Ashina's songs, could you sing that as a tribute to friends who could not be here with us today?"
She never came back, though, so that will have to remain a little mystery. Just like what the rest of her story could have been.
Kywyn fades back to sit on the bench next to Dakarai and NaShae.
"I've got a request to play on of the songs of the late Ashina Warrich. A close friend of Sir Hermy's as well as a very talented bard."
"It will take me a few seconds to retune. I'm set up for more cheerful songs."
"This one is appropriarte though. It's about a longing for home and missing loved ones, something our guest of honor can probably tell you all about."
Minto looks towards Hermy Sr, before strumming the opening chords.
Where am I?
Am I awake?
Where has they day gone?
Is time standing still?
Do you know? How the light,
drifts in on motes of hope,
as your aproach, your presence,
removes all fears.
Do you know?
Where I am?
Am you with me?
Will I ever be home?
When you near, I am defenseless,
I am weak, without you near.
You meant the world, and even more,
I lost it all, and am alone.
Do you know?
Where I am?
Am you with me?
Will I ever be home?
Your smile brought, the sun's warm light,
Your eyes reflected the moon.You meant the world, and even more,
I lost it all, and am alone.
Do you know?
Where I am?
Am you with me?
Will I ever be home?
Do you know?
Where I am?
Am you with me?
Will I ever be home?
The audience is silent as Minto lets the last note hang in the air. The Elder Woodhome wipes away a few tears before whispering to his son. "He really is talented, isn't he?"
Perform check 34
At the song's end, Kywyn just nods. He finds himself holding NaShae's hand and then pats Dak on the shoulder.
"Truth in a tune," he muses.
He passed through the crowd and stopped at the sound of a song... not just any song, but one with incredible power. One that would likely touch the darkest heart. The words held no meaning to him, no they didn't, but the sheer sound of it...
He wandered towards the song, only to arrive at its conclussion. Drat and triple drat.
...oh hey, was that a puppy? ...oh, right... song person. Very short song person. Keep mind focused... that was such a cute puppy over there... song, what song?
Culex was a terribly absent minded person...
.oO(This'll be close.)
"Sir Minto! Would ye be willing to test your songs against those of another?"
The beer wagon has several kegs. But the scowling half orc styanding guard over them doesn't look like the type to just let someone walk up and take one.
*Tensek mentally sighs and walks up to the orc.*
[orc]Hey I need a keg.[/orc]
Turning back toward Minto, Kywyn spies the black cloak with silver trim again, this time nearer.
"Is that a scythe?"
Kywyn scrutinizes the newcomer from the bench.
His other hand keeps the large scythe at his side steady as he pets the puppy, a smile playing across his pale face.
"Why does he have an unsheathed weapon like that around... there are kids here," Kywyn considers in his thoughts.
"That looks heavy," a voice solemn as the grave comments to Culex.
It is a little heavy, yes it is.
The man holds out a hand.
Hi. I'm Culex, yes I am. Who are you?
Kywyn looks down at the offered hand and slowly reaches out to shake it briefly.
"Kywyn," he says quietly.
The dark-haired man recalls his own black clothing he clung to not so long ago. Did he look as conspicuous in the light of festivities as Culex does now?
"Just thinking you maybe forgot to sheath the blade. Lots of people here for the celebration, and wouldn't want to poke someone by mistake."
Culex blinks, not seeming to make the connection at first. He glances at the scythe and then to the people wandering around. The scythe was rather tall compared to most of the people here, but this Kywyn was right, yes he was. He really should have thought about that, yes he should have.
He pulls a leather covering out from his cloak and slides it over the blade, fastening the knots on it when finished to keep it in place.
Like everything else the man owned, it was dyed black.
Sorry about that, yes I am. Skipped my mind, yes it did. Thanks for catching that, Kywyn.
So, what is the occasion, and who was singing earlier? They were very good, yes they were.
Is it an accent or just a stutter? Kywyn cannot quite tell from listening to Culex.
"People have gathered to welcome a Mr. Woodhome back to the city. The bard's name is Minto," Kywyn indicates the two halflings in turn with small gestures.
"Have a good time," Kywyn starts to walk back.
Thanks again! I will, yes I will!
Culex looks the crowd of people over, not following after Kywyn but instead keeping his golden eyes on "Minto". He hoped Minto would sing again, yes he did. The last song was so good it couldn't possibly go without an encore, no it couldn't.
He glances at Kywyn once more before returning his gaze to Minto. That was a nice, if strange, man. The tone of his first comment still left a deep impression on Culex... there was a story to the man, he just knew, yes he did.
*Tensek mentally sighs and walks up to the orc.*
[orc]Hey I need a keg.[/orc]
The half orc turns to look Tensek over. "Try mug first. More your size."
Lucian exhales slowly as Minto finishes his song, then he turns to ensure the other bard is right behind him. He raises his voice to be heard over the din.
.oO(This'll be close.)
"Sir Minto! Would ye be willing to test your songs against those of another?"
Minto looks in Luciens direction before calling out. My songs don't need to be tested. They've already passed."
He spreads out his arms to indicate the crowd around him.
He smiles. "But if you are interested in trying out a few of your songs against me, I'm game for that."
The elven bard, Rillelíra, holds up his harp. "I would be more careful with your words, it takes more then a few bad rhymes and poorly constructed chord progressions to make a song."
Minto grins. "That it does Rillelíra."
"If you'd like I could give you a few lessons. With enough work we might be able to get someone to listen to one of your... hmmm, what would you call those things you play if they aren't songs?"
The elf scowls. "Your lack of wit is almost as pronounced as your lack of rhythem Newberry."
"Do you accept the challenge or not?"
Minto shrugs. "No. I don't accept it's a challenge. But I am willing to let you make a fool of yourself in front of all these nice people if you are so inclined."
Minto waves his hands at the throng around him. "Make way for the elf, please."
"He wants to entertain you."
"Try to be polite. He's very sensetive."
Rillelíra makes his way through the crowd until he is standing next to Minto. The elf strums the strings of his harp and then starts singing.
[elvish]"Glisading down a spiral current
Like a lithe pirouteting dancer
The springy green leaf twirls to earth
Only to crumble to fertaliser.
Above, dangling dearly ton the branch overhead
Like a drowning sailor to a broken mast
The frayed brown leaf clings to life
As the snow drifts down around it.[/elvish]
Perform check 28
Minto rolls his eyes while the elf continues to pick at the strings of his harp. The crowd around the two bards listens in hushed eagerness.
Hermy Sr. nods, and watches as Minto invites another bard to perform next to him. The older man nods his head along with the elven bards song. "Interesting juxtaposition."
Hermy shrugs. "Really? It sounded elvish to me? Wheres the juctaphers from? I aint never heard of them."
When the Elf begins to sing, Culex closes his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the music, to fall in and not notice anything else. The song was not exactly as good as the last, but good music was still good music, yes it was. He had no idea what was being said, no he didn't, but he didn't mind, no, not at all.
"Ashina, too....." there is more than a bit of sadness in his voice.
"Did you know where she was from? Perhaps if she had family there, they might know what she wanted done if the worst happened."
Her attention caught, Mirielle glances sadly at Darkar.
Westwaters. She had parents there. I... I recovered her harp from the dragon that killed her, and I took it to them...
Mirielle sighs, then smiles wanly at Gamis as he gives her shoulders a comforting squeeze.
Minto does have a way with crowds, doesn't he? she adds, changing the subject.
"Can't say I blame you for that. You are after all at a severe handicap in that department."
Minto begins to play Hermy's Lament.
Tell me the tale about one who is so dear,
Sing me the songs though it brings me to tears.
And never let me forget.
Now you are gone but all my grief it remains,,
Weeping with sadness when ever I hear your name.
And I fear that forever will always be the same.
And never let me forget..
Let me remember the love that you loved.
Do you remember the paths where we met?
Ah, yes, you told me you'd never forget,
And never let me forget.
Then to all others, my smile you preferred,
Love, when you spoke, gave a charm to each word.
Still my heart treasures the phrases I heard,
And never let me forget.
Let me remember the love that you loved.
Though by your kindness my fond hopes were raised,.
You by my quivering lips will always be praised,
And never let me forget.
But, however long you are gone, know that I tried,
Still to your memory I smile with pride,
Blessed as I was when I sat by your side.
And let me never forget.
Let me remember the love that you loved
Though the last glimpse of Alissa with sorrow I see,
Yet, wherever thou art shall seem heaven to me.
And never let me forget.
Sad and lonely it seems now in my home,
But you will be in my heart, wherever I roam.
Remembering you, I'll never be alone.
And never let me forget.
Let me remember the love that you loved.
Perform check 25
At one point during the song, Rillelíra, smirks as he notices Minto holding a note for a fraction of a second to long, though it is not something anyone not very well trained would notice. Minto hides his own dissapointment at his blunder well. The audience never notices as they give Minto a hearty round of applause when he finishes.
They also give Hermy a few encouraging looks as well.
Hermy Jr. nods his head in silent agreement.
.oO(Music shouldn't be sad, as Father always told me. It should get everyone dancing and jumping... Wish I had learned to play the recorder with Father.
... HERMY!!!!) :DTyros starts moving through the crowd, trying to reach the one he hadn't seen for a long time.
Sir Hermy! Sir Hermy!
Hermy waves at the elf. His father does likewise.
So, I hadn't seen you in a long while, sir. I talked to Sir Volos a few days ago about your wanderings and he told me you were out of the city. I never found you in my hunts so I guess you were farther than that.
Tyros takes sudden notice of Hermy's father and raises an eyebrow. He bends over in order to whisper something into Hermy's ear.
Do you know the elder halfling behind you? He seems focused on our conversation...
Turning back to the others he sees that a new face is making the way over to Hermy. Another elf it seems if Darkar is seeing things correctly. He watches the interaction briefly before he gets another ale and tries some more of the abundant food spread.
Wow, this party is a complete success!
Tyros stops a few feet away from Hermy and his father, taking a deep breath to calm his breathing. He passes his hand through his dark hair, rearranging it so that it didn't fall in front of his face.
So, I hadn't seen you in a long while, sir. I talked to Sir Volos a few days ago about your wanderings and he told me you were out of the city. I never found you in my hunts so I guess you were farther than that.
Tyros takes sudden notice of Hermy's father and raises an eyebrow. He bends over in order to whisper something into Hermy's ear.
Do you know the elder halfling behind you? He seems focused on our conversation...
Hermy smiles. "He's my dad."
"He's been away fer the last twenty years."
"This party is fer him."
Tyros looks around for more know people, turning back to Hermy after a few gazes around.
So what abou that orc hunt you told me about at the guild? Are we going there?
"Not a fun or excitin one, but one with the best loots ever at the end of it."
"Family."
Both Woodhomes smile briefly at each other. Then Hermy sighs.
"I thinks we're still gunna hafta go Tyros. I hads a plan ta gets rid of the Bloodtroll, but the giants was to wimpy ta do it. So it looks likes it's still gunna hafta be us that goes."
Family is a great "loot" indeed. I wish I could get my part of the treasure by finding my father, too... but I hope I live a lot before that happens.
The BloodTroll was that monster you said that was powerful? THe one that used magic and could fly?
...
Do you think my arrows would hurt it? Or would rudeness be enough?
Tyros touches the point of his lucky arrow, painfully finding that it was still sharp.
The half orc turns to look Tensek over. "Try mug first. More your size."
[orc]It's not for me. It's for someone else... Look I need a keg so how much is it?[/orc]
The BloodTroll was that monster you said that was powerful? THe one that used magic and could fly?
...
Do you think my arrows would hurt it? Or would rudeness be enough?
Tyros touches the point of his lucky arrow, painfully finding that it was still sharp.
Hermy nods. "Yup, that's the Bloodtroll."
"Yer arrows should hurts it. Probably won'ts kill it though. At least nots fer good. But ifen enough of us hurts it, we may be able ta gets the time we need ta kill its."
"Ise nots so sure about rudeness though. It was kinda effective when I called it names. It lets its guard up a little when it was tryin ta kills me."
Hermy's father's face pales a bit. "You tried to goad it into killing you?"
Hermy shakes his head. "No I just tried ta distract it so I coulds hit it."
"I was actually hoping the name calling woulds makes it curl up into a ball an cry. Didn't works exactly likes I hads planned though."
[orc]It's not for me. It's for someone else... Look I need a keg so how much is it?[/orc]
The half-orc growls. [orc]"Do I look like a bartender to you?"[/orc]
"You are less likely to mess up something as simple as those."[/color]
The elf strums his harp and starts playing again. He sings his song in elvish first and then repeats it in the common toungue.
Piping, gliding through the forest
bouncing off oak and pine,
The tune skips into the hearts blood
Guiding the listner deeper,
Into the decaying bliss and rapture
of untamed primevil woods,
Until the stuggle back outweighs
the exertion of continuing.
Then the music sags and droops.
Perform check 20
This time it is Minto's turn to smirk. The words don't translate well, and the rhythem is slightly off. A few of the people in the crowd also notice it and only give him a polite round of applause.
The rest of the crowd however only focuses on the music, which is almost flawless. He receives a louder show of appreciation from them.
[orcish]"Whats he want, Grack?"[/orcish]
Boirin asks quietly in his heavy mountain dilect of orcish.
You are both extraordinary, yes you are!
Culex very much enjoyed the performances. He liked music, and he liked effort in art of any form. His own art was vastly different, but one can still appreciate those who draw upon another medium.
The man pushes back his hood and takes a seat once more, wondering what to do with himself and where to start. As storytellers, perhaps these two knew something. What to do, what to do...
The puppy was still there. Culex reached down and picked the little fellow up, setting him on his lap and petting him, a smile playing across his face.
Hermy nods. "Yup, that's the Bloodtroll."
"Yer arrows should hurts it. Probably won'ts kill it though. At least nots fer good. But ifen enough of us hurts it, we may be able ta gets the time we need ta kill its."
"Ise nots so sure about rudeness though. It was kinda effective when I called it names. It lets its guard up a little when it was tryin ta kills me."
Hermy's father's face pales a bit. "You tried to goad it into killing you?"
Hermy shakes his head. "No I just tried ta distract it so I coulds hit it."
"I was actually hoping the name calling woulds makes it curl up into a ball an cry. Didn't works exactly likes I hads planned though."
Tyros blinks his eyes twice, trying to sink in all the halfling's talking.
.oO(So it can also curl up in a ball... it must really be powerfull. I think I'll be minding the orcs, instead. But such a small guy like Hermy can't beat a BloodTroll, can he? )
Well, if two people call it names, maybe it will indeed curl up and cry. Two are better than one, I think. And if that doesn't work, I'll be able to do magic, when the adventure comes. I'm learning magic with Lady Dyer.
Did you see Nige, Sir Hermy?
"So has the Silver Sword planned anything yet? Lord Malifaeyr was going to try and find some more information before he decided if the Jackals were going sooner than later. However I have not heard from him yet.
Hopefully we can get some leads or helpful information that can lead us to a decision one way or the other. I expect that we will be relying still on the Silver Swords help, Hermy. With that said we will probably have the leadership council involved in helping plan our next course of action. If I find anything out I will let you, Gamis, Natala, and Miri know. Unless the leadership of the guild has changed from the last time I was there."
"Or ifen anythings changed in the council. I know we aint seen some of the council guys in awhile. Like Area."
Hermy's father pipes up. "I thought Volos was in charge of the Guild?"
Hermy nods. "He is sorta. He keeps things runnin, but wese gots a council fer making important descions about things likes going ta battle an that kinda stuff."
"Oh I see... Doesn't that complicate things?"
Hermy shrugs again. "Kinda, but its the fair way ta do it. Wese all goit specialties. Gamis wouldn'ts be able to give good directions fer sneaking around, an I wouldn'ts be ables to knows whens the best time ta cast a fireball, an Natala wouldn't know how to..."
"Yes, I understand that. But wouldn't it be more efficient to have one man listen to those with relavent abilities and then make a descion, rather then having everyone doing it? Back in Walnut Valley, Mister Mooney took into account all his servants opinians and then settled on the best course of action."
"If he had used a council to run his farm, Gerrium and Dashar would have spent weeks arguing over which was more important, having enough men for the harvest, or cutting costs to keep profit margins higher by paying less labourers."
"We aint a farm, wese heroes."
"No offense ta any squirrels, but what we do is a lot mores important then gathering nuts."
Hermy Sr. nods. "Which is why descisive leadership is even more nessasary."
Hermy sighs. "You mightsa have a point. I'll try an brings it up at the next council meeting."
Hermy points across the street at a pile of halfling boys rolling in the dirt. "I thinks Nige is over there Tyros."
"Practisin fer tomorrows competition."
He turns to look at Tyros. "Magic mights help more against the Bloodtroll. We tried a lot of name calling last time. Ifen Area an I couldn'ts insult it, no one can. Wese both two of the most insultin peoples you'll evers meet."
Tyros muses at the mention of Hermy being the insulting person around.
Hard to imagine... I'll go talk to Nige. Be sure to warn me when the time comes to hunt the bloodtroll. Good bye.
Tyros politely bows to everyone present and goes over to the halfling pile.
Nige? Seeing that a smarmy human is harrassing his bouncer, Boirin directs Weadly to take control of the "front door" guests. As he gets closer to the pair and notices the customer is Tensek and he catches snatches of conversation in orish and hearing clearly the last he turns to the large half-human.
[orcish]"Whats he want, Grack?"[/orcish]
Boirin asks quietly in his heavy mountain dilect of orcish.
Grack growls. [orc]He wants to buy a keg."[/orc]
"I'm sorry but all of are larger purchases and sales must be approved by Marroc. If this were the inn I would be more likely to just sell it to you but seeing as this is an event, our supplies are limited away from our base of opperations. You will most probably find Marroc in the crowd, hes here somewhere schmoozing with customers. When you're there you should be able to argue, um excuse me haggle (thats what its called in common, over the price."
Do you know which way he went?
Tyros politely bows to everyone present and goes over to the halfling pile.
Nige's face appears in between another halfling boys armpit. "Mister Tyros!"
"Are ya here fer the restlin contest?"
"Oim gunna win it, but ifen ya wonts Oi'll lets ya coime in second."
The halfling grins and then slips out of the grip of his companian and scoots next to the elf.
Boirin points in the direction the dwarves went but the crowd is sort of thick right where hes pointing so he can't see Maroc.
"You're taller than these folk, it shouldn't be too hard to find him."
After a few songs, he notices his father trying to stiffle a yawn and he smiles. "It's gettin pretty late aint it dad. Minto will still be playin tomorrow ifen you want ta head home and get some rest."
"I know Ise gunna need some fer the wrestling contest. Don't wants ta fall asleep while someones trying ta strangle me."
"It wouldn't be polite."
Hermy Sr. smiles. "I hate to leave a party in my honor, but I think you might be right. Falling asleep here might make people think I'm bored when the truth is I'm just exhausted."
Hermy takes his fathers hand. "Then let's go."
Hermy stops by a table to pick up his prize from the archery contest, and then leads his father back to the guild. "We'll eat this fer our before bed snack."
*Pacone strolls around the place, watching performers sing and dance, and telling their life stories. The teachers at the church always told him never to believe such stories, they used to say "Those bards would tell you how they buried their own mother to get money from you!". Pacone smiled and dismissed those thoughts. He knows how to distinguish the truth from mere exaggeration to impress a naive listener...
A young halfling in bright red pants and green shirt brushes past Pacone as he tries to move closer to the singers.
"Excuse me, Oim troin ta get ta the stage so Oi can participate too."
"Oim a better singer then either of them, an Oi should know."
"Oi've been trainin Minto."
The halfling smiles as if he expects the man to believe him.
With a mug of water in hand, Kywyn walks to their window to look down upon the hordes of halflings and assorted other folk in their merrymaking. The pallid clad man leans on the sill and sees his breath appearing on the glass. He tugs on the curtain to block most of the window off and fades from the scene.
"Um, I think Marroc went off with Aramil Dunskar and his brother they were just over there."
Boirin points in the direction the dwarves went but the crowd is sort of thick right where hes pointing so he can't see Maroc.
"You're taller than these folk, it shouldn't be too hard to find him."
Problem is he's the same size as everyone else.
*The ranger mutters as he turns and scans about for Marroc.*
Thanks for the help.
Boirin returns to the front of the bar to serve drinks.
"Perhaps it would be better to continue this tomorrow. Rest is a good thing after a full day of activity."
Standing up he walks slowly to the compound to rest before the competition the next morning.
A young halfling in bright red pants and green shirt brushes past Pacone as he tries to move closer to the singers.
"Excuse me, Oim troin ta get ta the stage so Oi can participate too."
"Oim a better singer then either of them, an Oi should know."
"Oi've been trainin Minto."
The halfling smiles as if he expects the man to believe him.
*Pacone smiles at the youth as he friendly pets the halfling's shoulder...
Oh, sure I can tell I have never heard you singing but, for the light of Thalos, feel free to try!
*Pacone steps aside the let the boy go ahead
I just came to this place a while ago, so I haven't heard the others...what else, aside singing, can one do at this party?
"'Ermy's gunna win it o'course, but everyone 'oo enters is gunna get a poie."
"Any time."
Boirin returns to the front of the bar to serve drinks.
*Heading on the direction Boirin has pointed Tensek begins his search for Marroc.*
(Spot +11)
Finally, Minto deceides to end the competition.
"Enoughs enough."
"We can play songs all night and you'll just use the excuse that everyone is heading home for the night as to why you aren't getting any applause."
"What say you to continuing this tomorrow when the party is packed again? One song each, who ever gets the most applause is the winner."
The elf shakes his head. "The crowd is biased in your favor already."
"And you expect me to give you more time to fill it with your supporters?"
"I expect you to go get some rest and ready yourself to put on the performance of your life. It's your only chance."
"Just think about it. If you can steal away the support of my home crowd there won't be any questions about who the better bard is, right?"
The elf slowly nods. "It would quell all doubt."
"I accept your challenge."
The elf gives a wide bow to the crowd, and then stalks away., "Tomorrow, Newberry."
Minto smiles. "Tomorrow."
Minto waits until the elf has had time to get out of hearing range and then grins to the halflings around him who are starting to dispearse. He strums the opening chords to his most popular song, and then stops.
"Tell all your friends that tomorrow I shall be ending my moratorium on playing the "Ballad of Sir Hermy and the Lady Amberhawk." It might be a one time performance, so be sure to be there."
Minto gives a few bows and then sets out to round up the hoarde.
The Woodhomes graciously accept several offers of breakfast, and by the time they have reached the limits of their bellies, the party has started again in full force.
Hermy is surrounded and lead towards the center of the quarter where a twenty by twenty square has been roped off. Hermy looks at it and nods. "Is this where the wrestlin's goinna happen?"
A halfling answers him. "Ayup."
"We'll start as soon as we've got enough people ta sign up."
The halfling points to a table where a large parchment is laid out next to a quill and small vial of ink. Hermy strides towards it and signs his name.
"Well theres one."
"An Oim two!" Mick runs forward and jots down his mark. Vivvo, Dirkko, Wil, Phil, Rilla and Nige follow. Minto looks at Davvo.
Aren't you signing up?"
Davvo rolls his eyes. "An get moi clothes all sweaty? Thars too many foine loikin girls around 'ere fer that.
Minto grins and places a hand on the boys shoulder. "I've taught you well my young apprentise."
The grim figure smiles as he stands. It was like everywhere. Each place was a new world, each sound, each taste, each smell... they were all new to him. He didn't remember these things. He couldn't.
He walked away from what was left of the party, seeking shelter. His black cloak flows behind him, caught by what wind was there. The hood was pulled over his head, and strands of white hair moved to and fro with the cloak and the wind behind him, with others strands spilling out of the front. The metal shaft of the scythe clinks each time it connects with the street, the sound always coming at equal intervals of time. His walk is very practiced, very planned... yet he seems to do this without even noticing.
[Just to get used to doing this... leaving the party at four and heading to Nobody's Inn.]
He smiles at his students. At least two of them stick out theit tounges.
"An ifen a six armed man or somethin like that don't show up, I thinks we has good shots at takin the whole thing. I wouldn'ts mind a new blanket."
Hermy casts a quick glance towards where a large crowd seems to be gathering. When he notices Minto in the center of it he grins.
"An maybe a new song."
"I know Kywyn was interested in joining it."
"Wouldn't surprise me if Gamis did either. Backs when he lived at the guild he hardly ever didn't takes the oppertunity ta walk around with his shirt off. An there was just me an Ark ta see him then."
"Here he'll be able to flex for Mary Ale."
"So what are the rules?"
Hermy pauses and then shrugs. "Ise never done it fer a competition before either."
"I suspect ya just tries ta get the other guy so he can't stab you or somethin likes that. They'll probably gives us wooden daggers or sumethin likes that."
One of the halflings near by nods, "Close."
"What you are trying to do is pin your oppenant until a three count is given."
"No stabbing involved. Just holds, and throws."
Hermy smiles. "We'll ifen theres throwing involved, thenm I suspect it'll be one of us halflings that wins. Has I ever tolds you about how I out threws them three giants an wons some hairy cheese?"
"Not that kind of throwing." The halfling shakes his head. "You are trying to take your poppanant off his feet and onto the ground so that you can pin him."
"Theres a few rules to it. You aren't suppose to punch your oppanant for instance. We don't want anyone getting seriously hurt after all. And mixing halflings with taller folk, well..."
The halfling grins. Hermy looks confused. "Well what?"
"Are there any others we shoulds know?"
The other halfling nods. "A few more common sense ones."
"No weapons of course."
"And no biting." He casts a glance at one of Hermy's students. "Matches will only last a few minutes. If no one is pinned after two minutes its a draw. Some times these things can last hours if you don't put a limit on them."
"And with as many competitors as were expecting that could take weeks."
"So far it just looks likes eight of us."
"If it turns out we don't get as many entrants as we want, we'll take out the time limit."
"And for the championship match."
The halfling grins.
"The winner gets a belt made by Sollin Barrelbottom himself."
"That sounds nice......"
"He says its will be one of the finest he's ever made. The buckle is made out of gold."
Hermy smiles. "Minto woulds loves that. Ise not so sure it would match my pants though."
"Whats the belt made of."
"Just leather, but he says he'll put the winners name on the back with gemstones."
Hermy grins more.
Kywyn closes his eyes, thinking back to the cocoon he came across one day before.
"Nothing exists; all things are becoming..."
Dressed only in loose fitting, off-white cloth pants and white socks, Kywyn reaches out for his gauntlets which rest on the counter near him. The dark-haired man doesn't open his eyes; his fingers seek the metal as if by instinct. The thought that the gloves wouldn't be allowed comes to mind and puts a damper on Kywyn's preparations.
He slides his hands into the metal-enforced gloves and flexes his fingers. There was a time when he wouldn't have considered something like wrestling without his gauntlets, so fragile was his confidence in his ability to control his dark touch. But things are different now. He knows it.
He walks through the apartment to grab his boots, stopping to see that NaShae and Dakarai are still resting, tired from the day before. Kywyn whispers into NaShae's ear where he is going, letting her trance go on.
Pulling on a pair of grey boots, Kywyn takes a final inventory of everything he would need. He leaves off his greaves, elbow guards, and knee guards, as they might not be allowed either in the wrestling contest. A small shadow leaps to Kywyn's satchel as he picks it up. The frog climbs inside to his favored spot.
Leaving the apartment, Kywyn walks outside and waits in the shadow of the building for the game to start. He reviews what martial arts he might be able to apply in the grappling - he has incorporated some gentle cloud grasp, with its series of armbars, into his Downward Spiral technique - but knows he needs exercise in this area.
Tensek finds Marroc easy enough. The halfling is talking to a dwarf.
*moving closer Tensek waits patiently for Marroc to finish his conversation.*
Hermy pays attention as they are called out and sighs. "Darkar, try nots ta hurts Dirkko. He's slinky and stuff but he bruises pretty easy."
"An Kywyn... try not ta get hurt by Vivvo. He has a tendancy to bites. It's against the rules an all, but he sometimes forgets things when he's in the middle of fightin."
Hermy looks around until he spies his oppanant,Rilla, and shakes his head.
.o0(Why did I get stuck fighten' a girl? An a little one at that. Nothing heroic about beatin a gnome.)
"I will see you in a little while."
Darkar starts stretching out his muscles so that he is ready when the match begins.
He merely nods to Hermy in understanding before walking over to find a place by the wrestling area.
Dirkko takes a very serious expression on his face as he skitters around, looking for a weakness in Darkar’s stance. He frowns and tries to circle around the elf.
Watching Dirkko try to move behind him Darkar pauses for a brief instant then springs tumbling towards the halfing trying to catch him off guard as he attempts to grab a hold of him. Darkar grabs hold of the halfling who wasn't expecting it. "'Ey! Whatcha..." Dakar’s grip is too strong for the halfling to slip out of.
Twisting his body, Darkar attempts to remove any leverage that Dirkko has and then pin his body to the ground. Dirkko ducks his head and shoulders out from between the elf’s arms and rolls back a few steps. "Year not so tough."
"Perhaps" as he smirks slightly. Not going to be as easy as I thought. Walking to the center of the ring with his defenses up he awaits a response from Dirkko. Dirkko smiles and then charges forward, trying, but failing to grab hold of Darkar.
Braving the assault, Darkar then steps aside and then thrusts inside Dirkko's defenses with his counter response. The elf tries to take one of Dirkko's arms and twist it behind him to gain leverage.
The arm twist just as Darkar planned, the halfling lets out a cry of surprise, and struggles futily to escape.
Darkar then attempts to lock up Dirkko's other arm and pin him face down on the ground.
The halflings cry of defiance is cut short by a mouth full of dirt as Darkar drives him to the ground.
Keeping his position intact, Darkar waits for the official declaration of him being the winner before he relinquishes, and lets Dirkko up.
The official gives a one count, and the halfling struggles to break free, and right as the official is calling out the two, he manages to roll over, though the strain on his arm seems to be very painful. The referee stops the count.
Darkar winces in sympathy as he sees the odd angle that Dirkko twists to escape the pin. Mentally he decides to try and finish this quickly before it gets worse. Twisting Darkar again attempts to pin the halfling.
The halfling somehow bends his arm further, and rolls over on top of the elf; he pulls his arm free and shoves Darkar's face into the dirt. "'ow da ya loike tha taste Darkar!"
"Of all the..." Darkar sputters. He arches his back up to gain leverage for his legs to regain the momentum and control.
The halfling can't hold him down for long, and Darkar rolls him off his back. Dirkko struggles to maintain his tight hold but Darkar knocks his arms off around him.
Grabbing to knock Dirkko off his feet, Darkar attempts a different type of attack. Most of his power seems to be in his lower body Darkar thinks.
The halfling thuds onto the ground.
Grabbing a leg and Dirkko's good remaining arm, Darkar hopes that his weight will be enough to keep the halfling down this time.
It isn't enough; the halfling squirms out of the pin.
His chest starts to feel heavy as he sucks in air. This is different that fighting with weapons, his whole body can feel this. Scrambling back on top of Dirrko, Darkar puts a knee on the halflings legs and then grabs both arms and attempts to keep Dirkko pinned.
This time the halfling stays pinned and the referee calls out the first count, then the second, Dirkko nearly breaks out as the third is called, but isn't quick enough. The referee declares Darkar victorious.
Panting Darkar helps Dirkko back to his feet. "Well done you made me work very hard to beat you. I think you have great potential Dirkko." he offers his hand to shake.
The halfling grins and shakes the hand. "So does ya."
"I am going to go rest up for my next match." Tossing the boy some coin. "Go get us something to drink, and lets cheer on the others."
Catching the coins, the boy scatters off. He returns a bit later with two mugs of juice. "They wouldna let me get any Dwarven spirits so thes all 'ave ta do."
“Probably better for us anyways.”
Wasting no time, Vivvo leaps forward, teeth bared, and snags hold of Kywyn's leg. In response, Kywyn crouches down and tries to get a grip on the smaller opponent. With a quick motion, Kywyn succeeds in grabbing hold of the halfling's arms and holding them close by the boy's chest. However, Vivvo struggles and finally breaks free.
With a blank expression that shows no signs of anger, Kywyn continues to struggle with the halfling, attempting to hook an ankle. Kywyn grabs hold of the ankle, and nearly topples Vivvo over. Vivvo is unable to regain is balance and falls to the ground, Kywyn on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
With a controlled breath, Kywyn anchors himself with his legs as he tries to hold Vivvo down. The halfling struggles to squirm out, but Kywyn's hold is too tight. The referee calls out a 1-count.
Snaking his arms up to trap on of Vivvo's in a figure-four grip, Kywyn hangs on as tight as he can without hurting the halfling. The referee calls out the second count, as Vivvo swears and curses. He nips at the sorcerer's hands but can't move his head enough to connect.
Kywyn briefly considers letting the halfling up so they can start again from standing, but figures that would do more harm to his pride than anything. The man keeps clear of Vivvo's teeth and holds the cover. Nonetheless, Kywyn's moment of hesitation is enough to give Vivvo a chance to pull one of Kywyn's arms off of him and roll a shoulder off the dirt.
"Now ya've gone an done it! Oim mad now!" shouts Vivvo.
Conversely, Kywyn is mute as he tries again to bring his young rival to the ground. In a gliding step, Kywyn reaches around Vivvo's waist to find a grip. The halfling nearly slips away but once again finds himself pinned. Vivvo struggles to break free again as the referee starts the count again.
"One."
Kywyn hooks his leg around Vivvo's own to take away that support.
"Two!"
Vivvo groans and struggles but can't find any leverage to use to break free. Not wanting to let the halfling escape again, Kywyn tries a trick of turning suddenly and staring directly into Vivvo's eyes as he is being held down.
A wad of spit momentarily blinds Kywyn, and the halfling slips out of the pin again.
"Ugh," Kywyn wipes at his eyes, "Sneaky little..."
Still in each other's personal space, the two wrestlers struggle for position.
With the height advantage, Kywyn tries dive-rolling over Vivvo, gripping the halfling's waist while upside down, and continuing with the momentum to pin in a seated position. As a reversal, the sneaky halfling rolls with Kywyn, flipping the human over further than he anticipated, and it is the halfling that has the human pinned.
"Oof," Kywyn tries his best to kick free.
The halfling can't hold him there long, and the referee moves back, calling off the count he was about to start.
Kywyn nods to Vivvo, acknowledging the good move. Being more cautious this time, Kywyn shifts to side and reaches for Vivvo's knee. The raven-haired man pulls the halfling's leg out from under him and rolls him up onto his shoulders. Hooking the leg with an arm, Kywyn keeps the pin tight.
The referee gives the first count again as the halfling fails to break free.
Feeling a healthy flush of sweat on his brow, Kywyn locks his hands together to trap Vivvo's leg further.
"Two!"
Vivvo curses and spits but can't break free.
Arching his back for leverage, Kywyn stays on top of his opponent. Snarling, the halfling throws all he has into breaking free, but it is not enough. The referee signals the final count and the end of the match.
Kywyn immediately releases the pin and rolls into a crouch. He stands and turns to see if Vivvo wants a hand up.
Vivvo slaps the dirt a few times, still cursing, then smiles.
"Noice match. Oi bet ya could've beatewn Mick twoice as fast," he accepts the help up.
"Just cause I'm a bit bigger," Kywyn quips, "You're quick and sneaky... dangerous combination."
After helping Vivvo up, Kywyn turns to look for a place to wash up a bit before the next bout. The halfling grins and climbs out of the ring, bypassing the barrel of water placed nearby, though he does grab one of the towels next to it. He finds his friends and proceeds to whip them with it.
Kywyn stops by the barrel to wipe his face with a towel. That was close. He would be hard-pressed against a larger, stronger foe. Kywyn figures he has to start thinking about more strategy.
.o0(I really hopes Minto don'ts makes a song about this.)
Rilla waves and smiles, Hermy waves back. Rilla charges forward as he does and slams hard into the halfling. She quickily has his shirt pulled up over his head, and knocks him to the ground. Hermy slips out of his shirt, and rolls up onto his feet, blushing.
Rilla spins around and snags his leg, but he pulls it away from her and takes a few steps back.
.o0(I can'ts fight a girl, it just aint right. At least nots one who aint tryin ta kill me.)
Rilla lunges at him again, this tme snagging the heros legs, and then jumping full force onto his chest. Hermy exhales forcefully.
.o0(Ok, maybe this one is tryin ta kill me.)
Hermy rolls out from under her, and then flips her onto her back, and forces her shoulders onto the ground. She struggles but Hermy is too strong, the official calls out the first countt. Before he can get to the second, Rilla locks her legs up around Hermy's neck and pulls him off of her.
Hermy knocks her legs away, and holds her down again. She wraps her legs around his neck again and pulls him off.
"Stops that! It';s not lady like!"
"Neiher is pounding you into the dirt and I'm going to do that too!"
Hermy tries to re-pin her, but Rilla flips him over and puts his shoulders to the ground.
Hermy slides one of his legs around her waist and prys her off him. Rilla gets on her feet and then quickily falls down, Hermy barely rolls away from the elbow she attempts to drive into his chest. "Hey! That aint fair!"
"A girls got to do what she can, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, but killing me aint one of those!"
She rolls away when Hermy tries to grab her, and then grabs hold of his neck. Hermy slaps her hands away, and then forces her arms to her side. She squirms and wiggles but can't stop Hermy from pinning her shoulders back down.
The referee gives the first count, and Hermy counters her attempt to break free by locking her legs up with his. "I aint gunna falls fer that three times!"
"Two!"
Rilla quickily tries a last ditch effort to break free, but Hermy just smiles as she plants a kiss on him. "IU was married members. I knows that trick."
The referee calls out the third count and calls for thje end of the match. Hermy rolls off Rilla and onto his feet.
"Does ya needs some help up?"
Rilla shakes her head and stands. "Nope."
Hermy smiles and walks beside her as they exit the ring. "Youse wrestle pretty well. Does you beat the boys often?"
She shakes her head. "Yup. But I've only beaten Davvo once. Hes not afraid of cooties like the rest of them are."
"You are a tricky girl aint ya.?"
"Yup."
.o0(Tyros versus Nige. This oughta be... long.)
Well isn't this a festive sight.
She smiles and heads into the crowd, stopping at one of the vendors for some bread and cheese. She pays the man kindly with a smile and continues into the crowd, stopping shortly to let a group of halfling children pass through in their game of tag.
She smiles as she watches the crowd envelope around the children and Scrrech swoops down to perch himself on her shoulder. She gives him a small chunk of bread that he takes gratefully and she continues into the crowd
Minto starts tuning his lute.
He sees Rillelíra aproaching and waves him over. "It's my home turf, so I get to go last."
"I hope you are ready."
The elf nods. "Why would I ever be otherwise? Unlike some bards I can mention, my music is my life."
Minto smiles. "What a shame then. No one deserves such a poor life."
*Aramil looks around to see who's in charge of the match, when he can't find one he looks around to see if he recognizes anyone. He spots Hermy and walks over to him. With a short bow he speaks to him.
"Good day ter ye Master Redpants, I was wonderin if ye knew how I could join this little match they've got goin' on?"
"Suit yerself...."
*Aramil makes his way back over to Hermy and stands next to him while they watch the match that is already going.
"Anyone look good so far?"
"An Rilla. Even though she lost."
"An shes a girl."
"So far thats been it. Tyros an Nige are wrestlin now, but I wouldn't say either looks good."
"They looks painful instead."
"I see, so who's up next? And do I get the pleasure of seein a master fighter such as yerself wrestlin someon?"
I wonder what's going on over there..
She heads towards the sounds and sees a bunch of familiar faces. She stands next to Darkar and watches, nodding her head slightly to the elf
Hello Darkar. What seems to be all the comotion?
Darkar nods back to the elf.
"It is a celebration for the Woodholme family reunion. Hermy found his father and brought him home. It has been many years, and Hermy had thought him dead."
She smiles
It's quite strange to be back in the city...I have been gone way toolong and as so probably way out of date of what has been going on.
How have you been by the way?
*Aramil listens to Hermy like those are his dieing words. He nods his head and begins to play out certain tatic's that he might use in order to win. He shakes his head and decides that he is just going to have fun, no matter if he wins or loses.
"I see, so who's up next? And do I get the pleasure of seein a master fighter such as yerself wrestlin someon?"
"I already foughts."
"An I wons,"
"But it was against Rilla, so I wouldn'ts really say I was a master at it."
"She almost tooks me."
How about you Anaya, I have not heard any mention of you for a long time?"
"I always knew that Rilla was the strongest of the bunch. Well congradulations on yer first win, and I hope that ye may win more. Who knows, maybe we will be fightin each other in the finals."
I know. I have been keeping mostly to myself outside the city. Just running through my own thoughts and the perspective of things. Trying to get at least some things in order.
She lowers her head and smiles
But it feels good to be back.
Tyros blinks twice while watching the halfling flex his arms. He gets into defense position as Nige charges at him and manages to bump into his chest, making him step back. He winces and starts looking angry. "I really don't suppose you wanted to do that, did you?"
He starts running against the ropes to get some more speed and charges against the halfling, trying to grab him by the neck. Nige ducks under Tyros arm and steps behind him as the elf goes flying past, landing a kick on Tyros behind. "a course Oi meant it! Wese wrastlin!"
Tyros grabs his buttocks in protest for the kick and turns at his attacker. "No need to insult me with names like ... "wrestling". Didn't call you anything, did I?"
Tyros takes a swing with his fist at Nige, trying to make him a bit unstable before going for the grapple. Tyros punch conects, the referee starts to run towards them to call the match, but Niges giggling stops him.
"So it's wor is it!"
Tyros takes advantage of Niges momentary lapse of concentration and gets a hold of the halflings pants, swinging him around. Nige breaks free and grabs Tyros shirt in retaliation.
"Not the shirt! The wolf wouldn't like to be grabbed on that spot!" Tyros yells, trying to break free. He tries to grab Nige by his arms to give him an arm lock.
Tyros knocks Niges hands off his shirt, but the halfling twists around and climbs up the elfs back, locking his arms around Tyros neck.
"I.... can't breathe.... hands off!" Tyros starts feinting and falls to the floor, with his tongue out and a stupid look on his face, as if playing dead.
Nige lets go and puts his face next to Tyros. "Oar ya oll roight! Oi was just playin!" 'Nige turns away to look at the crowd. "Whars Minto! Tyros needs 'ealin!"
Tyros grins from ear to ear and tries to grab Nige by his pants. "Minto is busy singing. You're busy calling me names"
Catching the halfling at unawares, Tyros grabs hold of Niges red trousers and pulls him back. As the pants fall around the halflings knees he trips and lands face first in the dirt. "You're the wrestling one"
Tyros gets up and runs to a corner of the ring, jumping to the top of the post. He lets out a yell a la Tarzan and jumps with his arms and legs wide open.
Nige being to busy pulling up his pants can't dodge out of the way, and is smashed into the ground by the elfs bodyslam. He quickily rolls out from under it, and crawls on the prone elfs back and grabs hold of Tyros head and smashes it into the dirt. "Oi'll fill us op on candy after wese doine foightin, but 'eres soime dirt fer now."
Tyros tastes the dirt's awfull taste with a big "Bralgbraglhadaasdadfgatermorga" while wiggling his arms in the air. He shoots his legs into his bak, trying to connect with Nige and getting him off his back
Nige slips away from Tyros legs and shoves more dirt in his mouth. The referee gives out the first one count.
Tyros tries to fight his way off with a punch into Nige. .oO(Dirt tastes awfull... maybe a small piece of deer meat would make it better... got to hold the though)
Tyros elbow conects with the halflings gut, causing him to lose his grib, Tyros gets his face out of the dirt.
"Air at last!"
Tyros gets up, trying to reach Nige at the same time to establish a graplle. He reaches back and grabs Niges shoulder and then flips him over him, and rolls on top. Nige struggles and succeeds at breaking free and makes a dash for the corner of the ring.
Tyros curses for letting Nige go and starts to go after him, to the corner, trying to reach him before he gets there or just when he gets there
Nige evades Tyros grasp, and jumps up onto the rope and turns around and jumps at the elf.
"Looks wot Oi learned from ya!"
He evidently didn't learn the part about actually hitting his oppanant and Nige crashes into the ground at Tyros feet. Tyros grins once more and mocks Nige.
"Look what I've learned from you! It's called falling!"
Tyros takes a swing and jumps with his elbow aiming at the prone halfling and Nige lets out a loud groan as Tyros drives his elbow into the halflings back. From there it isn't hard for the elf to wrap Nige's arms up behind his back and force his shoulders and face into the dirt. Nige struggles to get free but only gets a mouthful of dirt as the referee calls out a one count.
"See, I might even fill you up on candy and chocolate but right now I will stuff you with dirt." He gets closer to Nige's ears and whispers: "It's sugar free"
Tyros words scare Nige intoi action. "Noooo!"
He manages to twist out of Tyros grip, and get his upperbody of the ground. Tyros is startled by the Halflings sudden surge of force. He tries to grab Nige by his feet and drag him around to the corner of the ring.
Tyros gets a hold of Niges left foot, and the halfling flails around as he is dragged through the dirt. He nearly breaks free once, but Tyros grabs his other foot and resumes the dragging. Tyros shoves Nige legs up into the corner of the ring and drives his foot at Nige's stomach.
Nige yelps in pain, and grabs hold of Tyros arm and yanks him to the ground.
Tyros falls on the dirt headfirst. .oO(This is beggining to get embarassing)
The two roll around on the ground exchanging pins for several seconds, but eventually Nige holds Tyros down long enough to get a one count from the official.
Tyros tries to wiggle free of Nige's grapple, while trying to get up from the referee's count.
The referee gives the two count while Nige shoves more dirt into the elfs face. Tyros starts thinking for a second solution. he remembers something. .oO(I hate cheating but this is worth it.)
"Oh no! The candy man is giving out candy!! Let me go!" Tyros shouts so that Nige can hear him lud and clear.
Nige seems to fall for the bluff. He releases the elf and dashes out of the ring into the crowd, "Whar is 'e!"
The referee shakes his head and yells out the disqualification.
But Tyros seems to fall for his own bluff... or Nige's, he doesn't really know due to the confusion in his head, and leaves the ring running after Nige, as well.
"WAIT!!!"
The official shakes his head again and changes his earlier call to a double elimination.
Kind of....
She turns her head to see the next match and notices a familiar halfling hanging onto Tyros and laughs
Oh my is that nige?
*Aramil chuckles at little bit at Hermy's comment.
"I always knew that Rilla was the strongest of the bunch. Well congradulations on yer first win, and I hope that ye may win more. Who knows, maybe we will be fightin each other in the finals."
"Maybe."
Hermy grimaces as he watches Tyros and Nige flail about. And then gives a sigh of relief as they both rush out of the ring.
"I wonders whose next?"
Hermys question is quickily answered as Aramil and Phil Tealeaf are called to the ring.
"That was a strange match....." he mutters to himself.
"Good luck ter ye phil and may the best dwarf win"
With that Aramil lets out a battle cry and charges at phil grappling him and bringing him to the ground.
The force of Aramils charge knocks the halfling back to the otherside of the ring, and the dwarf is quickily on him, pressing him into the dirt. Phil tries to wiggle out from under him to no effect.
Aramil smiles, knowing that he can end this now. "Sorry bout this buddy but i'm going ter have ter win ye know... no hard fellin's"
With that Aramil attempts to pin phil and end the game. Phil puts up a struggle, but can't seem to break free of the dwarf grip. The referee calls out a quick three count and then the match.
Aramil gets up and helps Phil to his feet he bows to Phil then goes over and pats him on the shoulder.
"Come on i"ll go buy ye a drink afore the next match."
With the crowd cheering behind them, Aramil and phil make there way to get two drinks, then armail leads phil back to the ring and watches the matches with his halfing friend.
"Greetings Phil, I'm sorry ter hear aboot yer lose, but when yer up against a dwarf, there's not much ye can do, well unless yer facing me cousin Brakk, he's a whimp, even fer a dwarf."
*He smiles and pats Phil on the back, Phil looks up at Oskar and gives him a big smile, then he goes off running after Nige who ran out of the ring. Aramil looks back in time to see Tyros running after him. He hears the judge call out a double emlimination and laughs at the fact. Oskar just tugs at his beard some then waits with his brother to see who the next match is going to be.
*Aramil looks over to see his brother tugging at his beard.
"Pull any harder and its goin ter come right off. How would ye like that?"
*Oskar looks at his brother rather confused, then he looks down to see his hand tugging at his beard. He quickly stops it and smiles at Aramil, who laughs at him. Oskar just shakes his head and laughs along with him.
.oO(Whew, I have had this much fun with me brother in a long, long time, I hope he stays around longer.)
You and Aramil would definately be an interesting match.
She smiles
That, I think would be a much better match up.
That sounds good actually..when is the next round of matches? Maybe we can get some food and we can talk about what has been going on in the city these past few months before the next round.
She smiles
After Tyros has his match, Kywyn scratches his head at the outcome but continues to watch over the ring. He draws circles in the dirt with his gloved finger.
The halfling grins. Well thars plenty ta eat an drink. An in the mornin' theres goinna be a wrestlin contest."
"'Ermy's gunna win it o'course, but everyone 'oo enters is gunna get a poie."
A wrestling contest? Hahah! Definitely not for me! But it will surely be interesting to watch...
She nods
That sounds good actually..when is the next round of matches? Maybe we can get some food and we can talk about what has been going on in the city these past few months before the next round.
She smiles
"I am not exactly sure when the next round is. However I probably should not eat too much because it can cause cramps, perhaps some fruit would be alright. I would not mind talking it helps pass the time."
She smiles
"So what did you want to talk about?"
I just thought it would be good to catch up a bit..since I haven't been in the city at all these past few months and I am sure alot has gone on...this city seems to never sleep.
It must feel good to atl least be able to relax for a day and have fun...celebrate.
She pops a rasberrie in her mouth and smiles
Oh that is so sad..I know Hermy loved that dog.
He does definately deserve it, after all that he has been through. Maybe things will be better for everyone..I know some have had a hard tiome with things this past year.. Kywyn and Shae with little Dak, Nat coming back from the afterlife, Tynk and his surprisingly new found friend.
She giggles at the thought of Zap
Yeah...on a trip to rid an evil druid by the name of Benelvir, Tynk found an unusual lizard able to generate enough electricity to knock out a man, say as large as Aric in one shot. The unusual thing about the little thing is that it isn't very big, maybe the size of a large rat or a ferret so it isn't that big.
I guess Tynk had been having dreams about this creature and the fact that he found one made him think of it as a sign that this creature was meant to be with him.
So he had me bring the creature back with us and he made the creature his familiar... the funny thing is the name, though well suited. He named her Zap...and I just hope that she is able to keep him out of as much trouble as possible cause having a creature with that kind of power may draw attention to him.
A wrestling contest? Hahah! Definitely not for me! But it will surely be interesting to watch...
The halfling looks at Pacone and shrugs. "Oi donna think yer clothes would get 'urt much boi enterin. Or yer 'air."
"Oar ya just afraid of gettin beat oar somethin loike that?"
I could only imagine what would happen if a creature like that would end up in the wrong hands...I sure hope tynk knows what he is doing..
She looks over to see who is in the next match and places a berry in her mouth
Next up, Mick and Will face off. Will is left eating dirt.
After that a pair of humans enter the ring. It is probably the most balanced match up yet, and when the time limit is called, the one called Holdwine is declared the winner.
The last match is a bit of a surprise. Not because of who wins, merely because of who it is entering. Grack, the bouncer from Nobody's Inn. Grack handily defeats the halfling he is matched up with.
The next rounds bouts are announced.
Therokke against Holdwine.
Aramil versus Grack.
Kywyn faces off against Darkar.
And the final matchup, Hermy versus his student, Mick.
He growls at his human oppanant."Therokke show you what Father Hogan taught him!"
The human shrugs and stretches out until the referee gives them the signal to proceed. And then the half orc is on the man.
He puts the man in a headlock, and then drives him to the ground. The man manages to keep from getting pinned, and then reverse their positions, flipping the halforc onto his back.
Therokke growls and gets his hands on the mans torso and lifts him off. Still holding the man, Therokke crawls to his feet, and raises the puny human above his head. The man struggles, but isn't able to break the orcs grib in time to keep himself from being piledrived into the dirt,
ATherokke quickily covers him, and rolls his legs towards his chest, as the referee gives the first count. Therokke yells out to the crowd. "No one can defeat Therokke! Mother has blessed him!"
The referee gives the two count while Therokke holds his pin and snarls at the helpless man. "Puny man should pray to Mother! Thank her for letting Therokke beat you quick!"
Unable to kick out, the referee gives the third count and Therokke let's the man go, offering him some parting tips. "Next time you get in fight, ask Mother to help you."
"Won't help against Therokke, but you know better then fight Therokke again."
The big half orc flexes a few more times, and then struts out of the ring.
.oO(Grack eh? Who in the nine hell's is Grack? Must be a half-orc from the name.... blarg.... a half-orc... almost as worse as an orc...)
*Aramil shakes his head and heads back to his brother. He quickly informs him who he is fighting. His brother tuggs at his beard some and then reply's to Aramil.
"Well don't be so hasty ter win, Half-orcs can be formidable opponents, just like a halfling, or a gnome for that matter. I suggest that ye take caution into this next battle. Fer yer strength might not win you the day."
"Bah, its just a stupid half-orc"
*Aramil makes sure he says this as quietly as he can, he does not want the crowd to hear him. He goes back to watching the match, his brothers words clear in his head.
The second the referee calls out the start of the match, Aramil charges at the half-orc, slamming hard into him, but Grack slaps away his arms before the dwarf can grab hold. Grack slips around behind Aramil and pulls on of his arms with him.
Aramil growls at him, curses him in dwarven, then attepmts to break out of the grapple
The dwarf snarls and swears, but the great strength of the half orc prevails. The dwarf is brought down to his knees by the half orcs greater weight.
Grack starts pushing Aramil towards the ground, but with a quick shuffling of his feet and arch of his back, the dwarf finds the right stance to hold his ground, and with a loud grunt throws back his shoulders, breaking free of the half orcs grasp.
Aramil roars aloud in defiance and as the half orc moves in too grab the dwarf again, but Aramil proves to be stronger, and wraps his arms around Gracks waist, crunching him up close.
Aramil roars aloud again, then attempts to pin the mighty orc
Aramils yell is matched by the orcs, and the orcs eyes begin to twitch as he is pulled to the ground. Grack continues yelling, and his body starts to twitch, and in his rage, Grack knocks the dwarfs arms off him.
Aramil roars out in defiance, he thinks to himself .oO(This is one worthy apponent)
Aramil knows that if he moves he might lose his ground, so yet again he attempts to grapple the mighty orc
The two scream at each other and fight for a hand hold, but it is the half orc who gets a solid grip first, nearly lifting the dwarf off his feet.
Aramil knows that he will be able to win by fooling the orc, but he must get past his tough grip, so he digs his feat into the ground, squats down, and then surges upwards, his hands around the halforcs torso, and then the dwarf spins, throwing the orc off his feet and slams him into the ground.
The half orc snarls and pulls the dwarf to the dirt with him.
Aramil snarls back, and though the half orc does his best to keep the dwarf from climbing a top of him, the dwarf can't be stopped and he forces Gracks shoulders into the floor. He can't keep them pinned long though, and the half orc kicks him off.
Aramil knows that since he has the half-orc down he has an advantage, so he continues to try and pin the orc, with all his might hoping that he'll be able to keep him down
Aramil shoves the orcs shoulders down again, and the referee gets in a two count before Grack can get them up again.
Aramil can feel the sweat dripping down his face, he can begin to feal the onset of fatigue, he knows that he must get this over with or else he'll fall over and die from exhaustion. He surges forward with all his might and attempts to pin the orc one last time.
Aramil can sense the half orc tiring as he struggles to break free, the half orc strength seems to be slipping away, but he still finds enough in him to shake loose after another one count.
Knowing that he needs to get the orc back on the ground again somehow, and that he probably won't fall for the same trick twice Aramil takes a look around his surroundings and he notices the fence surrounding the ring. He smirks. He mocks the half orc and makes sure that he is following him. Aramil quickly goes to the edge of the fence, jumps on top then jumps to smash the half orc back down to the ground to pin him.
The half orc catches the dwarf in the air, and then throw him down and drops down on Airmails surprised body.
Aramil curses aloud and attempts to throw the orc of his body. Gracks breath comes in gasps, but Aramil can't knock the half orc off, and the referee gives a one count as Grack pins Aramil to the ground.
Aramil starts to think that his last trick might be his downfall. He shakes the thought out of his mind and tries with all his might to get out of the orc's grasp and get away
Sweat from the half orcs face trickles down onto the pinned dwarf as the referee gives the second count.
Aramil gets into a desperate drive to get the half orc off his body, he starts to try and wiggle, toss, turn, anything that he can do to get out from under the half orc and Aramil nearly breaks free, but the half orc manages to keep him on the ground until the referee calls out the third and final time. Then the half orc rolls of him and lays, gasping for breath besides the dwarf.
Aramil gets up groggedly and goes over to the orc. He bows to the orc and says to him. "Well fought master Grack, you are a formidable foe and i look forward to a time that we may fight in battle side by side"
Between breaths, the half orc manages to get out a few words. "You... too."
Aramil smirks then goes off to his brother. Grack lies there for a few minutes and then pulls himself up with the ropes and then staggers out of the ring.
.oO(Me brother was right, I should have never tried ter out fool him, that was me downfall... thinkin I was smarter then he....)
*Aramil realizes that he learned an age old lession today, the hard way. He must begin to look past the skin of the person and look into their inner depths to see their strengths and weaknesses, only then will he be able to become a masterful fighter. He nods his head to himself breaking out of his concentration. He grabs his mug of ale and raises it high as a salute to Grack and his might even though he might not be watch.
*Oskar sits quietly watching Aramil closly, when Aramil snaps out and raises his mug, Oskar nods silenlty with much appreciation from what Aramil has just learned. Oskar smiles greatly and watches his brother closely. Though this time he is watching him to make sure he doesn't die, rather then for any new signs of brightness in his brother.
"Wow Airmail. Youse nearly beat Mister Haveorc."
"I aint even sure Ise coulds do that. He's pretty tough."
"Nice though."
"I aint ever seen him kill anyone but these two guys that one time but Ise sure hes killded more. Ya don't get scars likes he's gots from just standin around an inn scowlin."
"Aye, he is a worthy fighter indeed, I would like ter see how he fairs when he has an axe in his hands....
*Aramil starts to wonder about his prowness behind his own axe, then tries to imagine Grack's, only increasing his respect for him. He breaks out of his imagination to finish his statement.
"But I'm sure that ye may be able ter beat him, just be yer sneaky self and try ter trick him inter pinnin himself. Though I doubt that will work, he is a very powerful and wise fighter, though he may not seem it.....
*Aramil pauses for a second then continues.
"Well I wish ye best of luck, and I hope that ye may prove victorious fer I look forward ter yer fight little one."
*With that Aramil bows to the halfling and watches the next fight go on. What he doesn't see is his brothers open mouth at the words comming from Aramil. He would have never expected him to speak such words to another person. Oskar learned something also today, his brother isn't as dumb as he seems.
.oO(He is a worthy fighter just like Grack...)
"I doubts it will be anywhere near as tough as yours."
"Mick aint no Grack."
"He aint even a Darkar or a Kywyn or a Therock, or a whatever that guy Therock beats named."
"Ifen I didn'ts knows better I'd says I got stuck with the easy fight this round."
Hermy shrugs again. "Well I'ds better go finds Mick an gives him a few pointers on hows ta beats me."
"He'lls needs it."
Hermy and his father wander off.
"Ye done good brother, ye lost, but ye gave it yer all. I'm proud of ye. Ye are a very worthy fighter indeed."
*Aramil grins from ear to ear, their mugs clank as they hit them together, then the both of them drain the rest of the mugs. After that they watch the next fight from a distant table.
"Well, you wanted to train," he tells himself.
Though he had a height and weight advantage on the elf, he knew Darkar's experience as a fighter would negate any benefits there. In fact, though Darkar has an even smaller frame than Kywyn, who is not a large man himself, from what Kywyn has seen, the elf's physical prowess might prove insurmountable.
Kywyn wanders a bit to see what he can think of. The black frog Hex climbs up to Kywyn's shoulder as if whispering into his ear.
Marroc casts a glance back at the ranger put continues talking to the dwarf.
*As Tensek waits for Marroc to finish he looks up over to where he left Blackstar.*
Marroc clears his throa as he addresses the rangert. "Cin Oi 'elp ya with soimethin me boyo, oar ar ya just waitin there starin at me becouse ya've been out in the woods boi yerself too long?"
Uh no. I need a keg of ale. And your tender... Boirin I believe sent me to talk to you.
The halfling shrugs.
"Well Oi can't really spar any froim 'er fer ya. Oim sure Oi could make more money that way, but it would leave an awful lot o' good folk parched if ya know wot Oi mean."
"An Oi brought most Oi wot Oi 'ad back at the inn 'ere, won't be gettin another shipment until next week either, an Oi can't 'ave moi regular customers go with put either."
"Wouldna be good fer buisness, or moi furniture if ya know wot Oi mean thar too.'
"Ya could troi the Lich or the Pumpkin. Oi wouldna be surprised if there sells oar down roight now any'ow."
Haphazard chance, an earthy embrace.
The first caress of security.
A seed planted and nutured
Passionately blossomed.
Sprout evolves to sapling,
Tossed and bent by the breeze.
One day to emerge
A hard magnificant oak tree.
The elf switches to elven, and begins to sing the story of the creation by Ordermetrix of the elves. And how they were taken away to live in her halls.
[elvish]She smiled as she spread
A warming embrace
Heartfelt love for her child
Nestled in her bossum
Protected from all evil
In her image grown. [/elvish]
And then the creation of the orcs by Agathalos. The song continues, telling how the orcs betrayed Agathalos and were cursed to the form they now currently have.
[elvish]Noises buzzing nearby
Hovering closer and closer
While drifting eastward
To greet the rising Sun
Not with hugs and kisses
But treachery and fear
that sizzles and fry their lips.[/elvish]
The elf switches back to common as he speaks of the arrival of Kakodemmion.
Black slashed with white,
Blood scented, tear born,
Revenger, avenger, corrupter
Creater mishappen, blame misplacer
Source of strife, bane of life
Dark opposes light
Day, night
From there he touches upon the dwarves, halflings and gnomes all choosing Agathalos over Dennion the cruel.
Frome stone to home
Three from a mistake
But no mistake they are
Lightbringers sons though of darkness born.
He returns to elvish as he tells stories of the battles between the sons of the Mother, and the resullting destruction. And Ordermetrix solution.
[elvish]Fire and hate
Torn earth upheaved, tossed
Long winters of flame,
Summers of ice
Beasts of nightmare
Crawling from choas.
Banished, locked away
Public punishment
Displays of The Mothers
Justice.
Sent back, her choosen ones
To guide and observe
The task of rebuilding theirs,
Younger brothers to be nurished.[/elvish]
The bard plays for a bit longer, and then with a bow stops.
Perform check. 23
While the majority of the crowd scratch their heads in confusion, they also applaud the beauty of the tune, while those that could fanthom what was being said either nod in approval or disbelief. Minto is among the later group.
Once Rillelíra has taken his bows, Minto pipes up.
"You sure have a way of making history seem... interesting."
"And long."
Minto strums a few chords on his lute and smiles at the crowd. "Now that we've been educated, for a change of pace, lets be entertained."
"What say you?"
He is geetewd with loud applause.
Hermy sighs again.
"Mick, stops fightin an gets ready ta wrastle."
The younger halfling snarls. "Oi am ready. Thats wot Oi was troin ta tell Vivvo. 'e don't think Oi cin beat ya in a fair foight."
"Well instead of arguing withs him why donts ya just try an proves him wrong?"
"Cus 'es roight."
"Oi canna beat anyopne in a fair foight. Good thing Oi dunna foight fair." And with that, Mick charges at Hermy, his hands clenched tightly.
Hermy steps out of his reach as Mick rushes past. "Ya aint suppose ta use fists in this fight."
"Oi aint goina." Mick throws the dirt he has in his closed hands at Hermys face, trying to blind him momentarily. Hermy rolls out of the way and looks to the referee and shrugs. The referee shrugs back.
"Are ya done tyrin ta cheat yet?"
"O'course not."
Mick charges at Hermy again, and again Hermy sidesteps his grabs. Hermy tumbles behind Mick, and wraps the other halflings arms close to his sides. Mick struggles to break free but Hermy keeps readjusting his grib to keep a tight hold.
"'ey! No fair! Oi aint 'ad a chance ta knee ya with ya behoind me loike that."
Hermy nods. "Thats part of the plan." Hermy throws his weight to the side, unbalancing and then toppeling the halfling. He quickily covers his student up.
Mick wriggles, and pinches, but Hermy doesn't let him up until after the referee counts Mick out.
.o0(That was too easy. It aint near the challenge everyne else hads. I guess someones hads to fught Mick, but...)
Hermy glances over at the faces of halflings at the sign up table as they prepare the match ups for the next round. They seem very intent in their whisperings.
Hermy sighs and helps Mick up, and then out of the ring.
Minto starts singing, and Hermy rushes towards him. "No! Nots that song! You promised!"
He shrugs of the thought and concentrates on his performance.
Listenclose to me, as I sing this song
Of a terrible deed and a horrible wrong.
A tale of a time, not long ago,
A tale of Sir Hermy, Garics Greatest Hero.
After Daron Haldar had returned from the dead
And was regaining his strength, resting in bed.
A pie was awaiting him as a morning snack.
But Lo! It was stolen in a dastardly attack.
A call was issued, a wide hue and cry
For a hero bold enough to bring back that pie.
Hermy the Hero, bravely took up the quest
For a job so harrowing called for the best.
Hermy mounted brave Major, his trusty steed
And sallied forth to tackle this deed.
He was not long gone on his heroic walk
When out of the shadows stepped the Lady Amberhawk.
She let drop her gown, baring all for him to see
She stood thus before our hero, Brave Sir Hermy.
Lady Amberhawk fell upon him with womanly charms
And tried to embrace him in womanly arms.
"Oh Hermy my Love!" she cried with desire.
"I need your help in quenching my fire!"
"For I have long watched you, and you are so great!"
"Please Sir Hermy. Will you make me your date?"
"Oh Hermy my love, my hero, my man!"
"Please take me now! Here as I am!"
"All that you see is yours to take!"
"If you 'll be mine, a pie I will bake!"
Was Hermy tempted? I'll tell you now no.
For he was too great, and modest and noble a hero.
He escaped her grip and averted his eyes
And looked up to the Goddess in her home in the skies.
Calling strength from the heavens, Hermy stood tall
And spoke very kindly explaing it all.
"Miss Aria, I am sorry but I feel not as you feel"
"I do not wish to take you though I am sure many men will."
"Sweet Aria, Oh Aria, can you not understand."
"Oh Aria, my Aria, I can not be your man."
"For I am a hero, I live a heros life."
"Danger surrounds me, it would not be fair to take a wife."
Her face te was red from all the shame
For the black mark she had put on her name.
Lady Amberhawk collapsed and started to cry
But her mood changed when Hermy mentioned that Darkar guy.
Sir Hermy continued the encounter forgiven and forgotten,
Until a cherry pie was found and gotten.
He returned to the Guildhouse, no need for you to fear
And was meet their with spoons and very loud cheers.
Perform check 37
Hermys shouts to stop are drowned out by the roar of the crowd, and Minto fails to notice the subject of his song being surrounded by apprectiative fans.
Minto turns to Rillelíra, a smug look on his face. What do you think? Did they like it?"
The elf grumbles.
He vaugely remember Therrokke from last winter, but he has not seem the half-orc around too much lately. Then he is shocked to that Grack is Aramil's opponent.
The match is an overt display of strength, althought not exactly certain, Darkar suspects that Grack has similar abilities like Arnor and Donnovain. If he makes it far enough to face him he will have to be careful.
Sitting he begins to focus on what he can try and do to match Kywyn.
Darkar misses the elven bards preformance, and its mixed results. Tumbling excercises, and jumps run through his mind.
His thought process is totally disrupted by the roar of cheers and applause. Looking up he sees Minto with a huge crowd of people and disgruntled elven bard. Darkar can only guess what song Minto just sang, but he suspects that it might have been an earlier hit that he heard before in a half-elven village near his home.
"Ya could troi the Lich or the Pumpkin. Oi wouldna be surprised if there sells oar down roight now any'ow."
*Tensek nods and turns to head to the Blue Pumpkin.*
Thanks Marroc...
*Without waiting for an answer Tensek jogs away from eth party and towards the BP.*
Darkar walks into the ring, waiting for Kywyn. He takes a brief glance around the ring, taking careful note of the boundaries. Also, he muses that he is giving up height and reach in this match as well.
In the meantime, Kywyn kneels some distance back away from the ring.
He might not win, but he could give the people something to watch
Tracing clouds in the dirt, he mutters to the images. The lines take on a life and soon a strange mist arises. For a stretch, there is nothing. Then a figure walks out of mist like he was made out of the same medium.
White towel draped over his head, partially covering his face, Kywyn walks slowly, looking coolly straight ahead and trailing a bit of shadow vapor.
Reaching the ring, the man pauses and then vaults in over the ropes and
pulls off the towel.
"That is a nice bit there...." Darkar mutters to himself.
Checking his wrists, Kywyn looks to Darkar evenly but there is a hint of good humor in his eyes.
Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, Darkar tries be ready for Kywyn's first move, deferring to him to try and get a hint of what he is planning
Across the ring, Kywyn shifts slightly before dashing forward. He continues past Darkar to the corner and reaches a hand for the top rope. With a leap, Kywyn sets himself atop the turnbuckle and rises to one foot, arms out for balance. From there, he awaits Darkar's approach.
"A tight rope act as well?"
Trying to match what Kywyn is doing, Darkar climbs up on the ropes as well, just out of Kywyn's reach. There he gives Kywyn a small bow and waits.
Seeing the elf on equally precarious footing, Kywyn attempts a leap forward, trying to hook Darkar's head or arm in a grip before spinning down toward the mat in a dropping maneuver.
As Kywyn grabs at him, Darkar attempts to maintain his balance, and reverse the move against him on the ropes. However, Kywyn lands perfectly in Darkar’s space. Counting on gravity, Kywyn locks a hold around Darkar's head and endeavors to spiral down into the ground. He reminds himself to look for a chance to pin.
Disappointingly, Kywyn finds Darkar too strong to pull down but clings to the elf to stay atop the ropes and post. Noticing Kywyn is slightly off balance and hanging, Darkar takes advantage of his remarkable dexterity. He attempts a similar move to Kywyn to hook the man off the ropes and fall on top of him to get in a position to pin.
Meanwhile, Kywyn attempts to reach down for a rope to keep from falling. Succeeding in a tentative grip on the top rope, Kywyn lowers his stance and tries to get under Darkar's center to flip him over.
Seeing that Kywyn is trying to get under his center of gravity, Darkar steps over the human’s arms, twists, and tries to roll off the ropes back into the ring.
The scene spins in Kywyn's mind as the two of them go tumbling down. Somehow, Kywyn lands on his feet and sees Darkar has done the same. Though still locked up with Darkar, Kywyn hears the applause for their acrobatics.
The pallid clad man shoots his heel behind the elf's foot in an attempt to get his foe down for a cover. Darkar smirks at the crowds cheers, and gives Kywyn a knowing nod. However, the brief respite is over as he feels Kywyn try to trip him off his feet. Darkar rolls with the trip and ends up on top of his rival for a pin attempt.
Finding himself on his back, Kywyn scans to see if he is close to any ropes as he tries to kick out. With coiled legs, the man succeeds in escaping and rises to a knee. Kywyn then tries to sneak around to Darkar's back to hook a leg and roll him up in a hold down.
As Kywyn rolls him up, Darkar wiggles and squirms out of the pin and works to twist Kywyn's arm behind him for leverage and a pin attempt of his own. Down again, Kywyn arches his back, hoping to raise a shoulder off the ground.
“One!” the ref counts.
As Kywyn squirms, Darkar goes to hook the lithe man's leg to deny him any extra leverage.
Unable to break the hold, Kywyn reaches for the nearest bottom rope as he continues to kick against the pin.
"Blast...." .oO(Stupid mistake) Darkar thinks.
Releasing the leg, Darkar reaches back for Kywyn's arm going for the rope to drag him back into the pin.
Reaching the cord for aid, Kywyn pulls himself free. Not wanting to break the momentum, he turns back, hoping to hook and twist one of Darkar's legs for a cover.
As Kywyn snares a leg, the smaller elf uses a scissoring motion to clamp down on Kywyn’s arm and roll him up for yet another pin attempt.
"This is a fine match," he sputters out as he gasps for breath.
In a blur, Kywyn continues the rolling motion to break free. Finding himself back on his feet, he ducks to sweep at Darkar's supports with his right thigh and look for a tripping pin. Darkar's grip slips as they tumble down. Twisting, Darkar tries to reestablishment control and rolls Kywyn's shoulders to the ground while keeping control of his legs off the ground.
“One!”
Rotating his body, Darkar sits on Kywyn's chest to put all of his weight into the pin. Kywyn labors to roll Darkar the other way to no avail.
“Two!”
Feeling Kywyn's struggles, and his own muscles beginning to wrench, Darkar tells himself he only has to maintain this a moment longer. He tries to will himself into holding on.
Running out of options, Kywyn decides to flail his arms. He tries to 'accidentally' knock the referee out of the way to add to the escape time.
"Oops."
With the successful ruse, Kywyn makes the best use of the time while the ref is down. He tries to get Darkar off his chest by pushing the lighter elf.
Seeing the referee get moved by Kywyn's flailing causes Darkar a moment of disdain as he strives to maintain the pin, but Kywyn has gained enough time
to break free.
Breathing harder than he would like, Kywyn knows he is running out of tricks. He tries rolling in such away that he can catch Darkar's knee and roll him up.
"Miss the... top rope... yet?" Kywyn manages quietly between breaths so just the two of them can hear.
"That seems... so easy... compared to...... this," he rasps out between shaky breaths.
Darkar reverses the roll on Kywyn and locks him down long enough for the referee to get in back in position for the count.
Kywyn fights to break the locking position, but hears the one-count.
Twisting the other way, Kywyn strains to reach a rope for aid again. Taking a deeper breath as he secures the pin, Darkar moves to cut off Kywyn from reaching for the ropes.
Against his trained technique, Kywyn stretches his muscles to their limit trying to break free. In the heat of the moment, he feels the dangerous energies flowing into his fingers.
"No." he re-centers himself.
The dark touch remains contained as Kywyn tries to kick to freedom.
Darkar senses Kywyn straining under the hold and continues to screw his hold tighter, hoping for the last count.
At last, the Jackal knight is rewarded for his effort.
“Three!” the referee signals the end.
Releasing his hold at the final count he rolls off Kywyn onto his back
panting for air.
"Good.... *huff*.... try.... *wheeze*...."
Kywyn stays on the ground, catching his breath for many moments as the crowd cheers for the show put on by the two combatants.
Finally regaining enough composure Darkar stands and helps Kywyn to his feet while the cheering continues.
Kywyn waves away Darkar's hand. Eventually, Kywyn pulls himself to a corner to slouch. After another few breaths, he pulls himself up with the ropes. He staggers toward Darkar and looks into his eyes.
And after a moment, nods to the elf in understanding.
"Now that was something to see..."
"Indeed, I wonder if it looked as good to the crowd, as it did from our vantage point."
Kywyn points to Darkar for the crowd then backs away.
"We should do it again sometime."
When he reaches the ropes, Kywyn crouches down to roll out of the ring, not having the energy for a jump. He makes his way to the water barrel. Sitting on the bench, Kywyn stretches out his neck, reviewing the match.
Darkar stumbles out of the ring with a tingling sensation in his limbs.
"I doubt I can do much more of this today."
He moves to get some juice and fruit to replenish his strength and await his next wrestling contest.
I got you your keg.
*The ranger says as he gets the two men to put it down near Blackstar. Turning he pays the men 2 gold each for their troubles and turns back to Blackstar.*
"And with such a small keg."
He shrugs.
"Eh, well a little beers better then none at all."
Blackstar rolls the barrel a few inches and then plops down on it and pulls out his flask.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Get packed"
"If you thinks I'm going to stay in this town much longer you are denser then ya looks."
"Once that halfling stops his caterwailing its back toi the forest."
Grack flashes Darkar a quick smile and waits for him to make his move. He lets Darkar grab his arm, but then brings it around the elf’s neck.
Careful to maintain his breathing Darkar hopes to maintain the pin. "Come on, come on," he thinks to himself "count faster!!" Somehow Darkar gets the half orc down to his knees, but then with a mighty yell Grack knocks Darkar's hands free, flashes another quick smile and then picks the smaller man up off the ground in a bear hug.
"Ah!!" he yells as he starts to be crushed in the grip. He is certain now that Grack is like Donnovain and Arnor. Using Grack's thigh for leverage Darkar strains to break free of the grip and get out of the half-orc's reach. Darkar’s efforts are in vain. With another yell, Darkar is lifted above the half orc's head and then tossed towards the ropes.
Darkar slams hard into the ropes, pretending to be dazed Darkar waits to see if Grack will try to finish him off. Sensing an easy mark, Grack moves in only to find he was wrong. Darkar grabs hold of him. Twisting, Darkar pushes Grack back on his shoulders, he tries to brace himself for the surge of strength that Grack displayed last time. He can only hope......
Darkar’s hopes are dashed. The yell Grack let out before does not compare with the one the half orc lets out now. Nor is the force behind the half orc’s arms as he slams the elf forcefully to the ground. A surge of adrenaline surges and Darkar kicks and throttles about working to make difficult to keep a handle on him.
Darkar’s nimbleness causes Grack trouble and he just can't seem to pin the elf down.
Circling in the grip of the half-orc, Darkar finds a slight advantage and works to press it further. Grabbing an arm and throwing his legs across his chest Darkar pulls hard. He hopes the submission pin combination will work.
As Darkar shifts and moves to take advantage of the opening, Grack closes it, locking Darkar’s legs up and shoving the elf’s shoulders into the ground. Flailing about desperately, Darkar struggles for the ropes.
.oO(He is much stronger than I observed previously.)
Darkar manages to break his legs free and with them for leverage gets his shoulders off the ground. Steeling himself for a bitter hard fight, Darkar rolls forward and throws his body back onto Grack going again for the pin.
.oO(If I can not out muscle him, perhaps I can wear him out. He does have limits, Aramil almost made it.
Grack grabs hold of Darkar as the elf rolls into him, and then lunges forward, throwing both of them against the ground. Arching his back, and pushing hard with his legs Darkar attempts to reestablish position.
"I will not give up without giving my all." he says between clenched teeth.
Darkar manages to flip over so it is the half orc who is on his back. With a sudden flop Darkar drops onto the half-orc's chest as he struggles with time and exhaustion from the long day to lock down Grack for the pin.
Though Grack struggles hard Darkar hears the referee call out the first count. Strength and confidence surges through his body as he hears the first count again. Time is losing meaning to the elf as he starts to feel light headed. Perhaps he is outlasting him after all.
With a surge of strength and a yell of fury, Grack lifts up from the ground.
Startled with the yell, Darkar loses the pin, but scurrying around Darkar works to keeps Grack on the ground. Grack grabs hold of Darkar’s waist and forces him to the ground, as he holds Darkar down the elf can see the first drops of sweat starting to form on the half orc’s brow.
"Yargh!" yells Darkar. Kicking twisting about he struggles to push out as he feels that he is getting close to the half-orc's breaking point.
.oO(Must... endure.... longer)
The half orc is notable weaker, his breath coming in gasps, but the hold on the elf is too good for Darkar to break. The official signals the first count. With a roar of defiance, and waving about to distract the official, Darkar flails about to break the pin. Stars start dancing in his vision as the physical toll of today’s matches continues to build.
The referee looks to see what Darkar is shouting about and in the distracted state calls the one count again. Grack’s grip is still solid. In a last ditch effort Darkar pulls all of his being into breaking the pin.
"This will not do." he thinks
Finally Darkar manages to wrench one of Grack’s hands off of him, and the half orc can't grab hold again quick enough. Instead of breathing a sigh of relief he takes Grack's arm and tries to roll him into a tight ball for the pin.
.oO(Come on already.....)
For a moment blackness threatens to claim him, but the sweat dripping of Grack snaps him back. He’s to big for the elf to roll into a ball, but Darkar gets as much as he can pressed down firmly in the dirt. And receives a one count for his efforts. Maneuvers and grabs an arm and twists it backwards. Yelling at the top of his lungs as the air inside was burning. Inadvertently the elf had been holding his breath.
Too exhausted to roar back, Grack puts up a futile struggle as the second count is called.
Feeling Grack slacken some gives Darkar hope that this might be over soon. Surging the last bit of strength and adrenaline Darkar silently prays for it to end.
Darkar’s prayers are ignored and Grack summons enough strength to break free of the pin. With a swim motion, Darkar attempts to keep Grack tied up and keep his waning advantage.
Grack pulls free of Darkar’s limbs and crawls towards a corner of the ring, trying to swallow in as much air as his burning lungs can get. Grabbing at Grack's legs Darkar tries to pull him back to the center of the ring and squeeze the fight entirely out of the half-orc.
"In the back of his mind the lucid part wonders how much longer the fight will continue."
Somehow Grack pulls his leg out of Darkar’s reach, and continues trying to catch his breath. Standing he rushes to try and tackle Grack, some how he believes time near the end and the outcome in his mind in doubt. Darkar plows Grack into the turnbuckle and as the half orc tries to regain his bearings, Darkar locks him up.
Straining with all his might he tries to slam Grack into the ground and hopefully pin him for good this time. The acrid air burns in his lungs.... "Breath" he tells himself.
The half orc seems even more tired then the elf and barely struggles as he is forced to the ground. The referee signals the first count. Using all of his weight pushes his shoulder squarely down on Grack's chest. This match is the most difficult, and it refuses to end. His thinking is not sharp due to exhaustion, and the official counts so slowly.......
Grack attempts to push Darkar off, but there is little strength behind it, the referee signals the second call. Hope of a finish in sight, but before it has eluded his grasp. With a final effort Darkar continues to drive Grack into the ground his legs churning in the dirt to keep superior leverage.
Darkar’s legs wobbly from exertion, don't hold up as well as hoped for, and the little bit of stumbling they cause the elf is enough for Grack to raise a shoulder. But it is to late.
The official calls out "Time!"
His legs give out and Darkar falls face first in the dirt. "I've lost...." he mutters.
The exhausted half orc stops struggling and concentrates on catching his breath while the referee consults with the halflings at the sign up table. After a brief deliberation, the official returns to the ring and moves next to the two prone wrestlers. Bending down, he takes hold of Darkar’s hand and raises it. "Winner!"
"I did?" still too weak to move Darkar can scarcely believe it.
Grack turns his head to face the elf, and with the last of his strength gives Darkar a flash of a smile.
Smiling back, Darkar manages to speak, "Great match!"
Grack doesn't even bother to nod in agreement, but his eyes seem to suggest a similar sentiment. Slowly Darkar manages to crawl unsteadily out of the ring. His vision is fading in and out. Finally he finds the water barrel, and pours a bucket over his head. The shock brings him to his feet, but his legs tell him to take it easy
Marroc passes by him getting a bucket of water. "Ya did foine me boyo. Oi aint seen Grack 'ave that much treouble in a loing toime." Marroc takes the bucket of water to Grack and splashes him with it and then drags the halforc to his feet.
"Thanks Marroc....."
When Hermy and the young Mick enter the ring she has no choice but to smile and quietly laugh to herself as Hermy is much more experienced than the "famed Hero" and as the match comes to a quick end it is no surprise that the red panted halfling is the victor.
As Kywyn and Darkar are called to the ring she say "good luck" to Darkar with a quaint smile on her face. The match presses on and to her surprise Kywyn is a very formidable oponnent, leaving her on the edge of her seat. She pops a berry into her mouth in the anticipation..not sure on who of her friends she should root for. The crowd roars a finally Darkar is called the winner.
With just Grack and Darkar left for the final match, she looks wearily at Darkar, knowing that Grack holds high on strength while Darkar has the nimbleness and agility. The fight pursues..Grack on Darkar..Darkar on grack..the one two count but to no avail as they break eachother's hold. She sees Darkars strenght begin to weaken and she gets up, passing through some of the crowd so that she may get closer in case he should pass out.
The crowd grows wild with cheers for both combatants and in a final attempt, she see the elf force all of his strengh on the pin on the half-orc..."ONE TWO TIME!!" she hears the ref call and Darkar is claimed the winner. The crowd goes wild for the Jackal Knight as does she and after Marroc passes him with a pail of water she comes to him with a glass of fresh water and some sweat bread
[elven]Congratulations Darkar[/elven] she says with a warm smile
I almost thought you weren't going to make it, but you proved me wrong. I even came closer to the ring in case you might've needed some healing should Grack've taken you out.
She hands him the water and sweat bread, smiling as she sits next to him in the shade
The dark-haired man cools off by staying out of the sun. As he surveys the scene around the ring, he catches sight of Darkar again and another familiar looking elf.
“Is that Anaya? he wonders, ”Wonder what she’s been up to. Has the Avowed been putting her to use or has she just been away?”
Kywyn turns back but makes a note to check up on the druid later if he can. With a cup of water in one gloved hand, he lets Hex climb out onto the other. Kywyn drops a trickle of water onto the frog.
"Let me know when they announce the final match."
Folding his legs, Darkar enters a trance and tries to fill up his reserves again.
.oO(I've never seen Darkar fight before, wonder if he's any good.)
*The next moments of the match flash before Aramil's eyes in the blink of an eye, and when Darkar is determined the winner Aramil is surprised. He raises a mug of ale to Darkar as he passes by, then something catches Aramil as he lowers his mug of ale.
.oO(Would I have been able to beat Grack? Would I have been facing Darkar instead of Grack.)
*Aramil loses his track of thought in thinking about what he could have done to win, and how someone else won without trying to outpower Grack. Oskar glances over to see Aramil in this state and speaks to him.
[dwarven]
"Are ye ok?"
*Aramil snaps out of his trance and looks to his brother, after a minute of thinking about the question he slowly shakes his head.
"What's wrong with ye?"
"I'm still wonderin aboot why I lost ter Grack, and Darkar beat him, and made it seem much easier then it actually is....."
*Oskar takes a second to think about how to reply to Aramil with out hurting his feelings.
"Well fer one, I'm sure that Grack was really tired due ter ye. But their is another thing that gave Darkar the advantage. He won because he took his time and waited fer Grack ter tire out. If ye wouldn't have got pinned torwards the end ye would have been able ter do the same. It's not that ye are a bad fighter and Darkar is a good fighter, its just that he played the game of endurence where he was the winner, where ye tried ter play the game of strength, and ye did good, don't get me wrong, ye did a damn good job against Grack with that game, but ye must realize that strength is not everything when ye are fighting."
[/dwarven]
*Aramil takes a moment to digest the wise words from his brother, when he realizes what he is saying he smiles and takes a gulp of his drink. Then he raises his mug of ale to Grack and Darkar. Then the two brothers wait there for the final match.
Taking a sip of water is nice, but his limbs are starting to feel like lead.
"Let me know when they announce the final match."
Folding his legs, Darkar enters a trance and tries to fill up his reserves again.
She nods as he goes into his trance. Screech flies down and lands beside her eyeing the bread intently. She smiles and breaks off a small piece, handing it to the white bird
I didn't think of you as a bread bird...
She smiles, petting the birds soft feathers then breaks off a piece of the bread for herself, watching the crowd, listening for the next match
"Once that halfling stops his caterwailing its back toi the forest."[/color]
*Tensek pats himself down and makes sure all his posessions are with him.*
I'm ready.
Choosing a inebriated looking pigeon, Lucian walks up behind the target and after asserting that he isn't being observed lifts his coin purse.
A good majority of the part goers look a bit on the tipsy side, but the gnome Lucien marks appears to have a fat purse that makes him standout.
The purse is removed swiftly and skillfully. No one seems to notice as Lucien bumps into him on his way closer to the performers. Nor do they seem to think it odd when the thief opens the purse to see what he aquired. Probably just trying to deceide if he could afford to tip the singers afterall.
And he probably can. Ten gold and twenty silver coins shine up at Lucien from inside the purse.
*Tensek pats himself down and makes sure all his posessions are with him.*
I'm ready.
Blackstar takes another swig of his flask, and then stands up and looks at the keg and then at the ranger. "It's not going to roll itself you know."
Hermys shouts to stop are drowned out by the roar of the crowd, and Minto fails to notice the subject of his song being surrounded by apprectiative fans.
Hermy finds he isn't able to make it through the throng of people seperating him from his bard. To many offers for comforting hugs for the loss of his wife, handshakes of respect for his deeds at saving the city, and drinks asking for the truth behind the tales of heroism.
Hermy politely refuses as many as he can, and grants as many as he can't.
His father moves up behind him, looking a bit confused. "What was Minto singing about there? I thought you did marry that Amberhawk girl? Though I didn't get that kind of impression of her from the way you spoke of her."
""I married Alissa. Arias the one in the song. Her older sister."
"An that stuff in the song didn't happen!"
"At least nots likes that."
Hermy Sr. nods,"I rather hoped not."
Hermy nods. "Me too."
He glances towards Minto again and shrugs. "Its too lates ta styops him now anyhow."
"Why don'ts we go finds somewhere a bit more quieter and I'll tell ya what really happened. An about Alissa. At least until my next wrastlin match starts."
The two Woodhomes slowly make their way out of the crowd. Stopping occasionally for Hermy to answer a few questions.
"It didn'ts happen that way!"
oO(That is better than what many men would make in a month... Normally I would be more than satisfied, but I need to give Mundavi something to be happy about, he gave me many gold in the first place. I hope to be able to earn that amount in return for him.)
After running his hands through his hair Lucian turns back to the action, guiding himself another line to a grouping of stands selling food. Perfectly enough, there is a throng of people in the way. The theif returns himself to his task and attempts to lift another purse.
The older halfling woman selling hotcakes looks a bit suspicious though as Lucien approaches her table, richer by another dozen silver. Her eyes aren't just on him though.
Glancing around Lucien spots a few other men walking through the crowds, he doesn't know their names, but he has seen them at the Fox before.
.oO(What are they doing here? They could blow things if they aren't careful.)
The theif moves to an occupied bench and muches on the two hotcakes while watching the pair from the boarding house.
Watching the assembled crowds its more then just those he recognizes doing it too. He spots at least a dozen or so people who might be working the crowd.
And two or three guardsman doing much the same as he is.
Hermy steps up to the outside of the ring, and shakes his head as he watches the judges at the table smiling and waving at him. [i].o0(I hopes they don'ts do anythings more then just put me up against the easier guys.)[/i]
Hermy looks at his opponent's bulging muscles. [i].o0(Nots that this guy looks easy.Maybe a little silly lookin' in just his underwear, but still pretty tough looking.)[/i]
Therokke calls out to the halfling. "Little red panted man! Therokke says not to fear! Mother can fix any bones Therokke break on you! Mother loves Therokke!"
Hermy nods. [i]"Thanks."
"I'll tries nots to worry then. Not ifen eveythings in the Mothers hands."[/i]
Therokke laughs. [i]"Har! Har!"
"Little red panted man not in Mothers hands. He will be in Therokkes hands!"[/i]
Hermy shrugs. [i]"We'll sees."[/i]
With that, Hermy climbs on top of the ropes and waves at his watching father, deliberatly taking his eyes off of the big half orc. A chanting of his name starts going through the crowd, eventually the Brannon's Run accent of those starting it is drowned out by the halflings without one.
Therokke charges towards the halfling, arms outstretched to grab him, but faster then the half orc can blink, Hermy tumbles into the ring and passed the Therokke to the center of the ring. [i]"Overs hears!"[/i]
Therokke spins around, laughing as he rushes towards the halfling again. [i]"Har! Har! Little red panted man fool Therokke! Trickier then Therokke think!"[/i]
Hermy summersaults out of his reach. [i]"How tricky did you think I was?"[/i]
Therokke lunges forward to grab Hermy, but Hermy ducks under his arms and then rolls behind him.
[i]"Therokke not think you very tricky at all. Pants must have distracted Therokke."[/i]
"Maybe you shoulds gets some!" Hermy calls out to the loin clothed clad competition.
[i]"Har! Har! Pants are for the weak!"[/i] Therokke surges forward trying to scoop up the halfling in his massive arms. Hermy springs back out of his reach again.
"Goin by hows well youse doin in tryin ta grabs me, maybe I shoulds makes you an appointment with my tailor."
Therokke growls. [i]"Little red pant man is mocking Therokke. Therokke no like to be mocked."[/i]
[i]"Therock don't like to wrestle much either evidentlys. Comes on! Grab me or sumethin!"[/i]
Hermy lets out a small breath. .o0(I hopes Ise doing this right. I don'ts wants him ta gets mad an kills me, just mads enough ta ware himself out until he makes a few mistakes.)
Therokke bellows out. [i]"Stop talking and fight puny man!"[/i]
[i]"Ok, but...."[/i] Dodging out of another of Therokkes grapple attempts, Hermy shrugs very visably. [i]"Are you sure you want me to do that. I'm finding this conversation very educational an stuffs likes that. When I heards I was gunna be wrestlin with you, I thoughts I might has to worry about gettin hurt, but the mores I listens to ya, the less I worries."[/i]
The big half orc starts to turn red and treble with rage. [i]Therokke getting mad!"[/i]
[i]"Good. Maybes you'll be ables ta grabs me that way!"[/i] The hero weaves his way out of Therokkes hands again.
STAND STILL!!
Hermy takes a few steps back, and then drops his hands to his side. [i]"Likes this?"[/i]
When Therokke attempts to grab him again, Hermy grins and explodes into action, tapping the halforc on the forehead and then tumbling behind him. [i]"Oops. I slipped. Wanna try again?"[/i]
Therokke bellows in frustration again, and pounces on the halfling, only to find himself empty handed.
"Hmmm, same result. Funny aint it? Well at least Ise laughing.
[i]"FIGHT THEROKKE LIKE MAN!"[/i]
Hermy smiles as he sees the sweat on the halforcs body mixing with the oil. [i].o0(He's startin ta tires out. Just likes Mister Haveorc did with Darkar.)
"Likes this?"[/i] Hermy jumps inbetween the half orcs outstretched arms and grabs hold of a leg, sliding the rest of his body behind of Therokkes other leg and then pushes back, unbalancing the barbarian.
[i]"What! No!"[/i] The mighty half orc stumbles and falls, the halfling quickily climbs a top of him and pins his shoulders down. The referre immediately signals the one count.
[i]"Mother help Therokke."[/i] The half orc prays as he grabs hold of the halfling and prys him off. Therokke pushes Hermy to the ground and pins him to the floor. Hermy wiggles out from under him.
Therokke grabs the halflings leg and starts rolling the halfling up. [i]"Therokke not so funny now. Little red panted man is. Har Har.[/i]
[i]"No, nots funny. Therocks just tired."[/i] Hermy slides his leg out of the half orcs grasp and then crawls completely out of Therokkes clutches.
[i]"Get back here!"[/i] The volume of the yell is quiter then Hermy thought the half orc was capable of. And he barely has to dodge at all to evade being grabbed again.
[i].o0(Definetly tired out now.)[/i] Hermy jumps on the half orcs back, and wraps his arms around Therokkes neck, squeezing down hard. Therokke manages to pry his grip loose enough to take in a ragged breath.
Hermy lets go and slides down to the half orcs legs, tieing them up again. But Therokke doesn't topple this time, he breaks one leg free and uses it to catch his balance. Hermy twists hard on Therokkes other leg, jarring the knee.
Therokke lets out a cry of surprise and pain as his knee buckles under him. Hermy digs his feet into the ground for leverage and then topples the giant. Therokke fights off the halfling as Hermy attempts to pin him, but can only di=o it for so long in his exhausted state. The referee gives a one count. And then the two, before he can get the halfling off him.
He has only seconds before Hermy is on him again. And this time the halfling keeps him pinned.
Immediately after the referee calls the match, Hermy hops off the half orc and offers him a hand up. [i]"Sorry abouts the mockin ya an stuffs likes that. It was the only chance I coulds thinks of ta beats ya. Yer just too strong an smarts to beat when yer thinkin straight."[/i]
The half orc grimaces, but then at Hermys complement takes the heroes offer of help to his feet. "Therokke understand."
"Therokke will cheat too when Mother send him to destroy Evil Son." He gives Hermy a solid pat on the behind. [i]"Maybe Therokke will have red panted man teach him how. Har! Har!"[/i]
Hermy helps the limping orc out of the ring and then goes to find his father.
Therooke poses at the side of the ring and flexes his muscles for the crowd before announcing to the members of Hermys Horde gathered near the scorers table. [i]"Therokke need more pig snout soup! Wold have won if he had eaten right! Remember that kids!"[/i]
.oO(Are these other Strikers or are they new freespirits that we haven't caught up on...)
Lucian trys to remember if these are Strikers or not in the crowd.
Leaning forward, Kywyn is not sure what to make of the oiled half-orc while watching Hermy’s match. Tharokke is large and well-muscled, but he seems to play to the crowd and talk more than actually wrestle.
Kywyn nods slightly and claps politely when Hermy picks up the win.
"It feels like I am wearing full plate armor....."
He walks carefully into the ring and waits for his opponent and friend.
Blackstar takes another swig of his flask, and then stands up and looks at the keg and then at the ranger. "It's not going to roll itself you know."
*Tensek supresses a frown and puts the keg on it's side, using his foot to keep it steady as he adresses Blackstar.*
After you sir.
Hermy gives Darkar a respectful tip of his head as he enters the ring, and then gives a wave to those outside of it chanting his name. He shrugs at Darkars coments. "I thinks the judges mights has. As least fer me."
"You definetly earned yer spot here."
"I can only hope that I have enough energy to put up a good match. Two of mine were rather difficult, well good luck to you." He walks to his corner and waits for the start.
The referee gives the signal and Hermy rolls to the center of the ring.
"I won'ts makes you chase me as much then. Sound fair?"
"Sounds good to me." He walks slowly to up to the left side of the halfling waiting for him to make the first move.
Hermy quickily lunges to the left, and then equally as fast reverse directions coming at Darkar from the right. Hermy reaches out and grabs hold of his friends arm. He can't keep hold for long.
"Not bad Hermy, you seem quicker and harder to read than I remember. Let's see what I can do." He reaches in quickly to try and grab ahold of the mighty hero. He manages to hang on when he grabs ahold.
"Ise been practisin," Hermy attempts to wiggle out of Darkars grasp and quickly slips through his fingers, Darkar reaches back to grab him again.
.oO(This is going to be very difficult.......)
"Well from the raccous cheers, and jubilant crowd I heard earlier he played The ballad of Lady Amberhawk again."
Hermy sighs as he slips free. "I knows."
"He promised he wouldn't plays that again. Ifen Area finds out... well..."
The halfling is very spry and breaks free again. Not wanting to be detered he tries to snare Hermy again, but over extends and misses completly. "I do not know where Aria went to after she left that night when they tried to bring back Alissa."
.oO(Think, I need a better strategy....)
Hermy spins out of Darkars reach and then rolls underneath it. He makes a weak attempt for grabbing the elf, focusing more on not being grabbed himself. "She wents home. To her Mothers."
"At least thats where she was when we scattered the ashes."
"Well at least Minto might have a couple of days head start before he has to encounter and upset Aria." His mind is not coming up with much at the moment as he settles for continuing to test Hermy's defenses for the time being.
The halflings defense holds and Darkar takes a step back to reconsider the strategy.
Hermy bobs and weaves, staying out of Darkars hands, and then in a spurt of speed drops low and snags at the elf's leg as Darkar steps back. "He'll need it if shes still as mad as she was when I last saw her. She'd do more then just rip his head off."
"I try and not imagine what Aria would do. Sometimes it is not a nice mental picture." He is suprised as Hermy grabs at his leg. Hermy can't get a solid grip on the nimble elf.
"No it aint." Hermy shudders. "It would be spooky to see him singing without his head."
"Or just his head singing." He runs to the nearest corner and climbs to the top.
Hermy summersaults towards him, and gets ready for the elf to jump. "Airmail tried jumpin on Mister Haveorc. Didn't work so well for him ya know."
Using the post as a launchpad he attempts to jump up and fall straight down on Hermy. His foot slips and falls rather clusmily off the post sprawling behind the halfling. "Yeah they were not made for jumping off of it seems."
"Not unless youse knows hows ta fly." Hermy launches himself at the ropes and uses them as a spring board to go flying back towards Darkar. Hermy flips in the air and looses his aim thudding down at Darkars feet. "Which I don'ts evidently."
"Well with yer hat you could be. Or at least looks likes her"
"It is still possible to see that I am not her with the hat. Then I could get in trouble for doing so." Darkar tries to hang on long enough to attempt a pin this time. Hermy contorts himself, slipping free.
"I don't want ta wrestle another girl anyhow. They hit harder then ya'd think. It aint just NaShae ya know."
"Yeah that would be difficult facing a woman in wrestling match." Reaching back he tries to grab Hermy's leg out from under him and hang onto them. Hermy dances around Darkar's futile grabbings.
Hermy rolls back and comes to a stop on his feet. "Not worse then Kywyn or Mister Haveorc I'll bet. They musta really wore you out."
Hermy makes a seies of feints and lunges trying to catch hold of Darkars knees.
"It was a test of will and endurance. Unfortunately I think my limits were reached at the end of the match with Grack."
"I reached my limits with that Therock guy. Not the limiys of endurance though. Just will. That pig grease don't smell that good."
Darkar sniffs. "I can still smell it, and I see what you mean, and yet we eat meat that comes from pigs."
"Well eatin a pig, an smearin' yerself with one is completely different things."
"True enough, but I think I will pause the next time I have some bacon."
"So wills I. But only longs enough ta thanks the Mother I gets to eat it as opposed ta bathin in it."
"Well enough about pigs, let's see what we can do to find a winner shall we?"
After a few feints Hermy grabs hold and tries to wrap himself between Darkars legs. The elf shaking the halfling free then Darkar grabs Hermy around the middle and Darkar hoists him above his head, and prepares to slam the halfling into the ground if he can maintain his grip.
Hermy kicks and flails as he is born skywards hoping to loosen Darkars grip. He manages to slip loose and tumbles to his feet on the ground. "Yeah, I guess we shoulds try ta ends this. I don'ts wants you too tired ta celebrate afterwards. Who ever wins."
Hermy ducks out of Darkars reach, and in a flash rolls underneath him, and grabbing his legs from behind. Darkar reaches back and twists an arm behind Hermy's back for leverage. Darkar hopes that he will be able to hang on this time. Hermy flinches as his arm is yanked, and grabs hold of Darkars arm with his free one attempting to pull him into a better (and less painful) position.
As he holds on Darkar wonders slightly what Hermy is up to, but shrugs it off as he attempts the first pin of the match. He barely manages to get Hermy onto the ground for the pin as the offical comes over to start counting.
Hermy the Hero: Hermy finds himself at the elfs mercy, and struggles to break free from the pin. Compressing himself up as much as he can, he attempts to slip out as the official calls out the one count.
Darkar counters his tactic.
Darkar is suprised that he keeps Hermy down as the referee calls two. If he can keep this up he will be the winner, but the halfling is slippery and tricky.
Hermy doubles his effort, exhaling all the air from his lungs to gain more wiggle room. The tatic works as Hermy is able to slip from Darkar's grasp. Darkar reaches back to try and grab Hermy's heel before he can get to far away. It proves just enough to get him out of the pin, but Darkar still has him held tight.
Kicking out Hermy breaks his ankle free and rolls to his feet. He immediarely flips backwards to land on the elf. Darkar rolls out of the way and then he throws an arm back to attempt to snare Hermy by the neck.
Darkar grabs Hermy by the neck and then drags the halfling into a tighter grip. Darkars arm locks around Hermys neck, keeping him from rolling back onto his feet. Hermy struggles to pull the arm off.
Taking his other arm Darkar locks in his grip and then slams the halfling down for the pin.
Hermy bounces as he hits the ground, he blinks away the circling birds, and tries to claw his way out of the elf's hold as the referee calls the first count.
Stuggling again with the halfling Darkar manages to keep him down, but it is only a matter of time before Hermy breaks free, and Darkar knows it. However he hopes that he can get lucky and hang on just long enough.
Twisting and stretching, Hermy tries to inch his way loose again,
The referee calls out the two count as the halfling struggles but makes no progress.
Wrenching the grip tighter, Darkar knows he is close but he is starting to tire. Also he knows that the match is at least half over by now. Time is against him.
With a last burst of energy Hermy wedges his legs between himself and the elf hoping to get enough room to slink free.
Hermy manages to get a shoulder up, but Darkar quickly tries to pin him down again.
Pinned again, Hermy sifles a sigh and tries to break free again. He grabs Darkars arms and attempts to pry them off. The referee calls the one count.
Maitaining the grip is difficult, but somehow Darkar succedes again. He braces himself again for a desperate attempt for Hermy to break free again.
The two count is called as Hermy tucks his legs to his chest and then kicks upwards trying to force the elf off of him.
The referee hesitates to make the third call, but Hermy stops struggling and he is forced to decalare Darkar the winner. "I thoughts they mights try that." Hermy says as he lies there.
Breathing hard, Darkar offers Hermy a hand up. "That was a well fought match."
Hermy takes a deep breath. "It sure was. An a fair one too, That was a nice change a pace fer me."
"Well let's go celebrate now. This was wildly entertaining, and I am starving. I was reluctant to eat anything beside fruit; for fear of cramping up in the matches."
A red faced halfling steps into the ring carrying the belt, He looks down at the ground as he hands it to Darkar. "We'll change the name on it for you." In big blue stones the name "HERMY" is embedded on the back.
"An I'll gets ya some pie" Hermy adds.
"Ah ok pie sounds very tasty about now." He nods to the other halfling as he takes and holds the belt above his head taking a moment to savor his victory.
Darkar receives a respectful round of applause from the crowd, and an enthusiastic one from Hermy.
*Tensek supresses a frown and puts the keg on it's side, using his foot to keep it steady as he adresses Blackstar.*
After you sir.
The old man shakes his head. "A course. Didn't need to be said did it? A couse I go first."
"First thing I'm going ta have ta teach ya is ta keep yer trap shut. You talk to much boy."
With that Blackstar leads Tensek out of the city, stopping every few hundred yards to chide the ranger about his slowness, or his carelessness, or just his inability to do anything right.
Once they get out of the city, the old man relaxes a bit on the nagging. He even compliments the skill Tensek uses in getting the barrell over a small stream at one point on the way back to the mans shack in the woods.
.oO(Everything is going to taste so good) he tells himself.
Once they get out of the city, the old man relaxes a bit on the nagging. He even compliments the skill Tensek uses in getting the barrell over a small stream at one point on the way back to the mans shack in the woods.
*Tensek remains quiet as he follows Blackstar back to his shack. With Kiara bringing up the lead he nods in appreaciation at the comment and continues on.*
Lucian makes a mental note of where the guards are paying the most attention to, then heads in the opposite way, and after making certain that he isn't near any of the pickpockets. Sets to working the crowd again.
A small hand reaches up and grabs the thiefs arm. "Hold off Risk."
Mundavi nods his head towards one of the pickpockets Lucien spotted earlier. "Let my boys work,"
As Lucien watches he sees one of the familar looking men from the Fox bump into the stranger. And then hears him shout out for the guards. A pair of the city watch converge on the two of them and after sorting through the mans belongings one of them escorts him away, while the other sets about trying to find the owners of the various purses on him.
"This party of yours is a good way to get rid of a bit of competition don't you think?"
Darkar hands the belt back to the other halfling so that the changes can be made. Slowly he makes his way after Hermy to the food, and drink.
.oO(Everything is going to taste so good) he tells himself.
Hermy heads towards a table half full with pie. "Looks likes theys startin ta runs out finally. We gots here just in time."
Hermy picks out two apple pies and then after being told there is no charge for them hands one to Darkar. "Nots a bad party is it?"
"My dads gots ta be pretty happy abouts the turn out."
Hermy glances across the street to where his father stands talking with Mrs. Toadfoot.
Quieter to Hermy
"Of course this is the only party I have been to."
Hermy spots a familiar looking halfling woman making her way through the crowd. .o0(That's Debi. I wonder how shes been doin?)
"Very.. efficient. There are some here I'm not sure are ours. This might be the time to give them an introduction if they're not."
Lucian nods with a mixed smile. He leans on his cane.
"Very.. efficient. There are some here I'm not sure are ours. This might be the time to give them an introduction if they're not."
Mundavi nods. "After a few more examples."
As they watch, another pickpocket is singled out by the men from the Fox.
"The good ones will get the message, and the bad ones will be off the steet."
"And the message will have been sent."
"Our men our certainly thorough."
Lucian leans heavily on his walking stick.
"Our men our certainly thorough."
"They'd better be."
"Theres no room in our organization for incompetance."
The halfling looks at Lucien.
"So how have you made out?'
Yes, perhaps things will be more festive later. When is the anniversary of the founding of the Silver Sword? Perhaps that would be a nice time to have a party?
"Its a few months away."
"But it does sounds likes a good time fer another party."
"Maybe we coulds even gets Durin ta comes ta it. Minto tolds me he helped tracks down where my dad was, so it aint likes he's totally forgotten us."
"I was hopping he'd be here."
Hermy keeps his eye on Debi who seems to be heading towards his fathers location.
.o0(She don't look very happy. Then again she never does. Poor girl.)
Lucian watches the crowd warily.
"And the ones that do have coin here aren't worth the risk for the most part."
Mundavi scans the crowd.
"That elven bard in the competition? Do you know him?"
"Not really, I just appealed to his ego to get a distraction."
"Its a few months away."
"But it does sounds likes a good time fer another party."
"Maybe we coulds even gets Durin ta comes ta it. Minto tolds me he helped tracks down where my dad was, so it aint likes he's totally forgotten us."
"I was hopping he'd be here."
That would be nice to see Daron again. Perhaps the strain of running the guild was too much for him? Wasn't that one of the reasons he retired from the guard?
"He did, but he has the curse of arrogance on him. I'm not sure he's much of a team player. However, he could be useful in the future."
"Will youse excuse me fer a minute?" Without waiting for the reply, Hermy moves into the crowd towards his father. He reaches him just before Debi does. Hermy smiles at her.
"Hey Debi. Hows it going? Has you had the chance ta meet my..."
The woman slaps the elder Woodhome across the face. "How could you have."
"As I said earlier, there isn't room in our organization for incompetance."
"Shall I make the take?"
.oO(I wonder what that was all about?)
Lucian lets out his breath, he didn't even know he was holding it.
"Shall I make the take?"
Mundavi doesn't look at him. "Do you think you can?"
The guards seem busy apprehending pickpockets.
Debi slaps him.
"You should have left him to rot."
"It's his fault. If he..." she breaks into tears. "It's his fault Kirby was free to do..."
The sobs overwhelm her. Hermy Sr. looks at his son in sadness and confushion, before responding to the girl. "He was my son."
Debi's eyes fill with fire. "He was a murderer!"
.oO (This is a big one.)
He takes a round about route, leaving the party for a moment before coming into a back alley. He takes out his pair of dice and waits for a moment before speaking steadily. As he speaks he waves the dice back and forth in a figure eight in front of him.
"Dear Mother, I beg of you skill. Please lend me your aid."
He feels a warm strength cover him him.
"Thank you."
The theif proceeds into the crowd around the elf, after he finishes his song. Lucian attempts the lift. Feeling the warmth leave him as he attempts it.
ooc:Casting guidance
The man hears some shouting from the crowd and turns to look in that direction.
The elf puts the coins in a tied purse on his belt, and then loosens the strings on his harp.
He wanders through the area, and through the people, chatting with the occasional passerby. He felt like talking, yes he did, so he ended up in a number of random conversations. Usually about the weather. Or Oracles. Or art, or other random topics, most of which most people just looked at him and raised an eyebrow at.
It didn't take him long to notice that people were gathering somewhere, and he decided to head there to check it out.
He comes in time to see a woman slap some fellow. Culex frowns, unsure of what to make of this. He decides to watch for now. It's not like he could settle such a private dispute anyways, not it isn't. This was their arena... and, like in every city he travels to, he was merely an outsider.
He passes Culex and thinks to himself:
"Hmm, what an odd dress for a farmer. Sticks out a little doesn't he?."
When Culex turns to catch Gilgiga stareing, he disapears to the best of his suroundings ablties.
"(elf) I thought you did very well today. You showed the stregth of a real ballad."
"Newberry is just pandering to the lowest common denominater."[/elven]
The lf shrugs and shakes his head while mumbling a curse in elvish.
Both Woodhomes jaws drop. Hermy manages to get his shut first. "Wh.. what was that for?'
Debi slaps him.
"You should have left him to rot."
"It's his fault. If he..." she breaks into tears. "It's his fault Kirby was free to do..."
The sobs overwhelm her. Hermy Sr. looks at his son in sadness and confushion, before responding to the girl. "He was my son."
Debi's eyes fill with fire. "He was a murderer!"
Hermy Sr. starts to speak several times, but each time fails to find the proper words. He finally settles for a simple, "I'm sorry."
Debi snaps back. "Sorry won't bring anyone back to life. Or make them forget what your son did if it does."
"You spent the last twenty years paying for Kirbys crime."
"I'll be spending the rest of my life, and maybe more paying for yours."
"Enjoy your party Mister Woodhome."
Debi turns around and a path opens up before her in the quiet crowd as she stalks away.
Hermy Sr. fights back tears quietly as he watches. His son buts on arm around him. "She didn'ts mean it dad."
"Shes just still..."
"No Hermy. She's right."
"I... I think I want to go home now. I don't feel in the mood for a party anymore."
Hermy nods, and helps his father make his way passed the downcast eyes of the partygoers as they leave the quarter.[/i]
The party seems to be ending.
"(Elven)It's unfortunate that so many are preoccupied with the base and uninspiring."
.oO (His pretense is making me sick.)
Lucian nods, agreeing.
"(Elven)It's unfortunate that so many are preoccupied with the base and uninspiring."
.oO (His pretense is making me sick.)
[elven]"Indeed."
"I do not blame them of course. They are what they are."[/elven]
He casts a quick glance at Lucien then dismisses him, focussing instead on watching the tables of the party being dressed down.
[elven]"At least you haven't allowed the impure blood in your veins to corrupt you."[/elven]
He packs away his lute while the focus is on the parting halflings, and then starts to gather up the horde.
"Come on boys. It's time to get home."
"I really think Hermy's father could use someone to tell a bedtime story too."
He herds the horde home.
Culex turned and walked away, heading... well, he didn't know exactly where he was heading, no he didn't.
[To Natala's Mystic store.]
"Indeed. Gooday."
Lucian slips by and lifts the minstril's purse.
.oO (Sons of pigeons are pigeons too.))
ooc: If I fail the roll, I'll use my luck domain special.
Lucian nods.
"Indeed. Gooday."
Lucian slips by and lifts the minstril's purse.
.oO (Sons of pigeons are pigeons too.))
ooc: If I fail the roll, I'll use my luck domain special.
The elf does not notice as Lucien makes a succesful grab for his purse.
""I don't know why I ever came to this rat infested city in the first place. There is no appreciation for the arts here." Orcs have more culture then this place."
The elf continues his grumpling as Lucien makes a polite exit with the bards earnings for the day. Thirty five gold coins, an an equal amount of silver and copper.
And no luck was needed.
.oO(Happy doing buisness with you.)
[Fox]