Meetup: Campfire Tales
<OOC> Iadoth says, "I will wait a few minutes, but this is quite an open event, so it's not a problem if people show up late." <OOC> Aldean can start if you like. <OOC> Iadoth says, "That would be wonderful."
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A08: Banks of the Tornmawr *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
In the shadow of the great Highbridge, and beneath the guardhouses, a stretch of river has been laid out as a public park and fishing area. Here, the descending landscape of Alexandria folds into the river and crafts a comfortable view. On a typical day, a number of small boats and picnic blankets dot the landscape. To the side, a small shrine to Rada the River Serpent, as well as a dual shrine to Althea and Daeus, in their guise as Mother and Father of the world.
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Alba A black-haired, masked Veyshanti woman. 2m 1d
Aldean Well-built human male, short blonde hair, dark eyes. 1m 2h
Iadoth Lithe elf with green eyes and plaited brown hair. 0s 1h
Kailin Brown-skin, 7', red armor, white hair, blue eyes 5m 3h
Un'eth An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar 1m 6h
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Up the Bank <UP>
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<OOC> Iadoth growls heavily. <OOC> Un'eth says, "Problem?" <OOC> Iadoth says, "I summoned Ormarr the wrong way, then ended up in the SHH room." <OOC> Ormarr thud. XD
Bright sunshine washes over the snowy bank of the Tornmawr. Bits and pieces of it have been cleared away, the resulting snow stacks shoved neatly into the Tornmawr by teams of horses, or more likely arcanist students set to practicing floating disk spells. Further down the bank, one can see a few of them still, filling a disk with snow, then floating it out over the edge of the river and dismissing the spell.
On one of the rocks at the edge of a cleared space, Aldean's parked in the sunshine, a set of panpipes between his hands, idly running through a melody that may be familiar to those who know him well. Twin cloaks are pulled around him against the chill, and his hands are gloved, but his open posture says relaxation despite the morningstart at his hip.
Iadoth, the wild sil, arrives from the north, atop a grey horse which seems to shine in the bright sunlight. It kneels carefully, allowing Iadoth to dismount carelessly. She approaches the clearing where Aldean stands, and busies herself making a little campfire from kindling in her bag. She utters a little greeting as she does so, whistling tunefully, improvising on Aldean's themes.
Word was shared of a telling of tales upon the banks of the Tornmawr, and Uneth expressed interest. This interest remains and she arrives from the frigid waters of the river, itself. The lack of fur may lessen insulation, but the cold does not touch her today. As well, scales shed water far more completely as she steps out and onto the bank towards the known skald, his music, and rocks for sunning.
"Aaawwww...yeaaaaah." Ormarr makes his way under the bridge, with a long side and a longer stretch. He takes his time, enjoying the rare sunshine along the full length of his smelly, shaggy form. It follows with a grunt and a sound from behind that could only be said to add to themes in an interesting way. He bears a cart behind him, that chugs and bumps with the river-rock-shore.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Does anyone else wish to pose in?" <OOC> Iadoth looks at Kailin and Alba. <OOC> Alba posing. ;3 <OOC> Iadoth giggles.
Kaj has arrived.
Suspended in what could be confused for a spider's web, were it not composed of some thick black, fibrous material, a masked person enveloped in a shaggy gray hide reclines, comfortable in the unsettling hammocklike thing. As Iadoth begins to work on the fire, she looks up from the banded viper poking its nose out of the hide, and calls down. "Much larger a fire you will need, hunter. The promise of stories brings many and more, often."
<OOC> Kailin will pose in in a bit, rl just came up and I need to handle it.
Iadoth nods, and looks around for some more firewood, but there is not much to be found at this time of year. Still, perhaps others might know of a source. Shrugging, she lights what she has, and sits alongside, warming her hands.
<OOC> Iadoth is now totes nonchalant about Alba :)
Dark eyes look up at the gathering crowd, although Aldean continues to play for now, segueing into a variation on the usual melody for this piece and becoming tentative as he explores this musical side-path. A campfire and stories? How did he not hear about this?
"Heeeey, I heard there was a party goin on 'ere. Never be said a Drum Reaver don't know how ta," the large badger says. The creature plops his ass down on the earth, and waits for someone to undo the latchings and ties for the booze. There are two casks on the cart, bound in place so as not to roll. Someone's thoughtfully tied a green ribbon around his neck. Along the edges is sewn the image of Dana, and someone has thoughtfully scrawled, "Iz a drood."
<OOC> Iadoth laughs! <OOC> Alba XD
"I will leave space at the fire for those who require it," Uneth notes as she instead claims a place upon a stone, content to absorb the sun, tail swaying lazily. "Peace on your nest, songsmith," she offers to Aldean upon his own rock, though not so loudly as to disrupt the music. She repeats and extends the greeting to the badger.
<OOC> Ormarr :3 <OOC> Un'eth is not the one assumed a wild beast, for once. "How amusing." <OOC> Ormarr <.<
Iadoth nods. "I was heard of this meeting, too, Mistress Wolf, Mistress Witch, Master Bard. A student, a martial type... a follower of Dana, maybe perhaps, informed me." She turns to look at the badger-thing. "Master Badger?" She bows slightly. "I am... pleased to be met by you."
<OOC> Aldean says, "Are we using rule of 3, guys?" <OOC> Alba says, "Probably best, aye." <OOC> Iadoth says, "Sounds good to me."
At the greeting, Aldean finally lowers the panpipes and flashes one of his usual open, easy grins. "An' on yers," he answers Un'eth easily enough, although he doesn't seem to recognize her in this guise. "If ye lot be after a fire an' tales, will ye have another?" He looks around, his grin widening as he spots a couple of people he knows. Iadoth and Alba get raised hands of acknowledgement.
"Heya. Ormarr, Ormarr of tha Drum Reavers, that mean anythin to ya," says the badger. He looks over his shoulder at the giant cart, and then back again. "Can ya take care of this fer me, uh, and all that? Ole chief said hey, bring this this way, so what's an old warrior like me gonna do, eh?" he says. He moves to present the latchings a little more obviously. ...at this distance, he smells. He smells of earth and dirt and wild things. Because badger, though one larger than a horse.
"It would be likely so, Bard," Alba answers, wry amusement floating up behind her mask. "It is a gathering for the telling and hearing of tales, and well it is known that a Bard collects tales as a wind collects dust." The hammock... lowers, visibly, the strands extending to bring the shag-covered witch a touch closer to the ground. Her mask turns to the giant badger, and the latches on his cart. "....What is it that you bring?"
<OOC> Iadoth briefly AFKs. Don't wait for me, whoever.
"I will aid you," Uneth offers as she steps from rock to the cart. Yes, she uses opposable thumbs to open the latches. As for the smell, what is more natural than earth and wild things?
Iadoth sniffs the air, noting the earthy smell. She is keen to know what might be aboard the cart, and tries to surreptitiously look around Ormarr to effect the same. Still, her subtlety is... somewhat lacking.
"Whatever tha chief said bring, eh. Probably some fire-belly drink o' some sort. Now, y'all make this a party, I'd 'spect more Reavers will show up now or later. Never could turn down a good dance, eh?" The badger plops down in the traces as the sith-makar sees to them. "Aaah, yeah. That'un's been chafin m'belly," he says, apparently in bliss, now. And as the traces loose, he sighs, and another, unique smell carries its way to Iadoth's nostrils, as well as a faint and stealthy: tooooooooooot. The cart itself holds two generous barrels, with markings, as well as the means to tap them.
<OOC> Ormarr harasses Iadoth. O:3
Kaj ambles down towards the fire, two cords of firewood tucked under each arm. He smiles and nods at those he nods, "Un'Eth, Kailin, Aldean, Iadoth," he says, as he offers his greetings, glancing at the enormous badger, perhaps just not quite having caught the introduction but certainly not about to miss a 16 hand mustelidae.
He drops the firewood near Iadoth, slapping his hands clean of dust and slivers, then scratches at his copious blue hair, glancing up at Alba, who get a double palm wave ere he turns to see how else he might be useful.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Stinky badger bum." <OOC> Iadoth says, "Great use of the work mustelidae." <OOC> Kaj :]
Un'eth looses the cart, sets the barrels down, and even makes use of claws upon the badger. For scritching, that is, despite the area possibly becoming toxic for some. She is aware of the difficulties in reaching itches, especially for the badger. Also, conveniently, her sense of smell is not as heightened as it often is.
<OOC> Iadoth wot. <OOC> Iadoth says, "'Meanwhile, in Alexandria...'" <OOC> Ormarr hee. :3
Durrankar has arrived.
<OOC> Durrankar flop. <OOC> Ormarr waves. ':) <OOC> Durrankar says, "yar." <OOC> Aldean says, "Heya." <OOC> Durrankar says, "yar." <OOC> Kaj says, "Yarrar!"
Iadoth wrinkles her nose, and winces at the mutual posterior scratching. Still, she doesn't /really/ mind. She sits down by the fire, and smiles broadly at Kaj by way of thanks. Carefully, she tosses a log onto the little campfire, which suddenly seems much bigger. She takes out her harp, and looks over towards Aldean. "Master Bard, are you of knowing 'The Wild Rover'?" These last words she pronounces differently, as if learned by rote, and not by meaning.
<OOC> Un'eth catches Durrankar. <OOC> Durrankar says, "MY HERO! MWAH! <3" <OOC> Iadoth grins. <OOC> Durrankar XD <OOC> Durrankar holds up a ham.
Tromping his way down to the banks, Durrankar looks at the water. "No...thank you." he says staring at it. "Mmmmf. Too cold, still."
"Fair winds to the lot o' ye, then," Aldean greets easily, standing up and ambling over to join the group by the fire. "Aye, know that one well enough. Would ye hear it, then?" He brushes aside a bit of snow and plops down easily enough, making himself comfortable ... and pauses a moment. A moment of searching around beneath where he just sat, he leans over to root around, and pulls the beginnings of a small mushroom out of the ground. After a moment of examination and a chuckle at the random thing, he tosses it absently into the fire.
You say, "I was thought, Master Bard, of play together, maybe perhaps?" She plays the first chord on the lyre. "This of tuned, yes?"
<OOC> Aldean smirks.
Ormarr is getting his badger-butt scritched in the midst of things, which leans to a long and deeeep sigh as he settles onto the earth. Behind him, and recently attached, is a cart with two large barrels, with the oruch mark for 'Drink' on them. "Aaaah, that's tha ticket. Hell of a long walk over here, an' all that," he says as the scratchings continue. Eventually, he looks up, with a squint at Alba, "They playin music yet? Got wax in mah ears." He is a horrible badger.
Kaj holds up a hand. "I...would you mind, err. Might I--it is good to be here!" booms Kaj, having attempted to say something in a few ways but given up, or at least paused. He goes and drops down on his haunches by Aldean, now eye-level with the bard. "There is a lay you may have not heard, it comes from one of the Lodges. Would you hear it from me first, 'ere you sing and everything pale in comparison?" he offers, finally getting it out.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "I'm fine with that."
The double-hand wave is met with a tilting of the mask, but the offer of a story to begin catches Alba's attention in short order. "I would hear this tale," she says, shifting enough that her hair-hammock begins to gently rock. At Ormarr's question, she looks down at the megalobadger, mask turning back and forth. "Not yet. Soon."
Un'eth removes her claws from the scratched badger backside and moves towards her previously claimed stone for sunning. Along the way, she snorts at Durrankar. "The water was refreshing." She then gestures him towards the stone, should he choose to accompany her. "Song and tales," she explains, if he were uncertain of the gathering.
<OOC> Iadoth MEGALOBADGER! Oh my.
"Ah, good ta know, then," Ormarr says. He reaches up and stuffs the meat-slab in his ear that happens to be a paw. With some concentration, the end of it shifts, turning into a craggy, old hand that he wriggles around there with. He deposits something onto the grass. "Didn't want ta miss it!"
The sil nods at Kaj. "Yours are tales of wonderfulness, Master Giantborn. Please, your tale." She makes an invitational gesture.
Kailin steps into the shadow of the bridge and walks down the path to the park, his worn boots picking easily over the terrain as he steps. He leaves deep impressions as he walks, his weight pressing into the earth with each step. He maneuvers his way towards the rest of the people gathered and he recognizes most, a smile creeping onto his face at that sense of familiarity. He steps in silently amid the conversation and finds a place where he slips his pack from his shoulder. He sets his weapon down next to it and sits on the grass, looking around to the others to try to catch up to the conversation, turning then to Kaj as attention is turned his way.
Durrankar thumps his way over to Uneth and sits next to her quietly. His tail swishes a bit before he offers her a strip of meat, still sizzling. he seems to be quite immune.
"Aye, mate, an' fair winds to ye," Aldean pauses, looking up as Kaj offers a tale. "Be after hearin' one o' yers." He looks at the lyre, though, frowning. "Tune that, lass. Ain't bad, bit flat. Likely the weather. Less ye'd have me do it."
Kaj smiles, still on his haunches, and holds up a palm. "This is not a tale. It is an Ode in seven parts, and it teaches a very simple thing that is impossible to master. A very wise woman gave it to me, and it served me well when I was both at my lowest and at my best," he blurts out, then clears his throat and glances to Aldean, clearly a bit intimidated to step into the territory where Aldean holds near-complete master. But he goes for it anywa, smiling at Kailin, thinking he might recognize it, though it's not popular. He begins to speak facing his fellow giantborn, keeping the cadence of the Ode with a gentle clapping of his enormous hands.
"This present moment, smooth as a wooden slab, this immaculate hour, this day pure as a new cup from the past--no spider web exists--." He glances up at Alba then continues looking at those gathered, "With our fingers, we caress the present; we cut it according to our magnitude; we guide the unfolding of its blossoms. It is living, alive--it contains /nothing/ from the unrepairable past, from the lost past, it is our infant, growing at this very moment, adorned with sand, eating from our hands. Grab it. Don't let it slip away. Don't lose it in dreams or words. Clutch it. Tie it and order it to OBEY you. Make a road, a bell, a machine, a kiss, a book, a caress..."
He pauses to see if he's still got the people with him, taking a deep breath.
Un'eth takes the strip, which immediately produces a sharp hiss. More from her snout than the scalding of scales, one would hope. Though it might be appropriate to drop in into Durrankar's lap, the effect would be lost. Instead, she manages to keep hold of it with clawtips as she focuses her attention back to the tale, no, ode, of the moment.
Iadoth listens, rapt, to the words of the Giantborn. Once again, she understands the tone and cadence more than the actual words. But that's okay. Idly she twists the strings of the lyre, trying to tune the thing once more.
GAME: Iadoth rolls Perform/String: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Not managed that, then." <OOC> Ormarr d'oh. ^^;
Ormarr sees to the other ear as the speech begins. A second PLOP drops on the grass, before the badger settles in with a sigh. "That's tha ticket..."
<OOC> Durrankar says, "AHHHHH! Why is this thing attacking me!?" <OOC> Ormarr D:
Durrankar is still eating his strip when he hands some to Uneth. He looks over when he hears the hiss and looks to her reaction. It's sibsided by now, but his attention turns towards Aldean and Iadoth.
Alba listens in mild interest, shifting the swing of a leg to alter the hammock's sway. Gradually, it picks up the long rise and fall of Kaj's words, a new thread as thick as a finger lashing out to secure a new anchor-point on the bridge pillar.
Automatically, as if without realizing it, Aldean's booted foot begins to tap in time with the giantborn's cadence as he listens, without evidence of judgment and with real interest. He leans forward, then looks around for a convenient long stick with which to poke the fire into roaring higher.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Kaj, you have our attention!"
The half-giant takes heart from Iadoth's attention and Aldean's encouragement and continues, a bit louder, still keeping the cadence with his palms. "Take....a saw to its delicious wooden perfume. And make a chair! Braid its back; test it. Or then: build a staircase. Yes! A staircase. Climb into the present, step by step. Press your feet onto the resinous wood of this moment, going up, going up..." Kaj rises to his feet, caught in the words and continues, "NOT very high, just so you repair the leaky roof. Don't go all the way to heaven. Reach for apples, not the clouds. Let them fluff through the sky, skimming passage into the past."
He looks to the fire, "You are your present, your own apple. Pick it from your tree. Raise it in your hand. It is gleaming, rich with stars. Claim it. Take a luxurious bite out of the present, and whistle along the road of your destiny."
He falls silent and claps no more, still staring at the dancing flames.
Un'eth's issue is past, and she leans into her conveniently pre-heated silver semi-cihuaa as she listens to the ode, tail swaying to the cadence. Once the meat is cool enough, she eats while enjoying the present.
Ormarr leans towards the burning campfire. Smoke curls from it from Aldean's earlier tossing of mushrooms, of a unique scent and flavor. Enough that makes him slink forward, a badger floating over the earth on scurry-feet. "S'all deep, man," he agrees.
Kailin listens to Kaj, his head tilted slightly as he makes sense of the words. When there's a pattern that begins to play out, he studies it rather than joining, not sure he's come across something like it before. He gets a sense of the feeling to it and furrows his brow at the recitation, making sure that he is receiving it as it was intended.
The lyre refuses to be tuned, apparently, and Iadoth shakes her head softly. "Wondrous ode, Master Giantborn." She gives him a smile, and looks him in the eye. Rare, she knows. "Of anyother would have ode, poem, tale? I shall be of working on tuning this cursed-ursed thing." She shakes the lyre, which jangles atonally.
"Hn," comes the grunt from the swinging hammock. "Prettily spoken, yes..." Another strand releases the bridgepost and anchors itself elsewhere, firmly cementing Alba's swaying as a side-to-side motion. When the question comes up of another tale, she perks, glancing around those gathered about the fire.
Aldean applauds cheerfully -- despite gloved hands -- at the end of the ode, having listened carefully to the whole thing. "Aye, ain't no bad idea, neither, an' well sung." Mobile features twist in near-comical disgust at the sound that lyre makes. "Aye, an' be sure ye ain't breakin' a string tryin' to tune, lass. Aye, I'll sing ye a tale, if ye'd hear one. Ain't sung this one in a bit, Vardamen don't rightly like this'un. Be a tale o' loyalty beyond the grave." He looks around to see if others agree.
Kaj smiles and wipes at his good eye. "Ode to the Present, it is called, and it is given freely to those gathered here in the spirit of friendship," he adds, clasping his hand at the wrist, behind his back.
Un'eth could, potentially, volunteer, but her maw is occupied. Her elbow is not, however, and so she can nudge Durrankar. She knows that the wise shaman could offer many tales, though speaks no objections when another volunteers an offering.
<OOC> Kaj says, "That by the by, is a good if not great translation of a fave poem by the greatest poet of the 20th century IMHO AKA Pablo Neruda. It moves me every time and I thought i'd give you all a little present :D (pun intended)." <OOC> Ormarr says, "Woot! :D" <OOC> Aldean says, "I like it, thanks!"
Ormarr plops himself near the fire, taking up a fuzzy amount of space there on the rubble-beach. He fishes around in a pouch, somewhere. Quietly, insofar as he could be quiet, which is not at all. And tosses a few things onto the fire. The already-altered smoke from earlier begins slowly, to change color and aroma. "Oh, I'm all about friendship," he agrees.
<OOC> Alba says, "Kaj, I think if you don't know them already, I should introduce you to Shane Koyczan." <OOC> Kaj smiles and nods. "THanks Alba, i can of course google but if you have a fave, page away :) <OOC> Iadoth considers a 9-minute beat poem entitled 'Storm'. Entirely ironically, of course. <OOC> Ormarr :D
Iadoth nods, her mind overly occupied to do anything more creative than listen. She makes a second attempt to tune the fine lyre.
GAME: Iadoth rolls Perform/String: (2)+9: 11
<OOC> Iadoth laughs! <OOC> Un'eth must AFK to transport spawn. "Assume that I continue to observe, sun, and/or torment Durrankar as is proper." <OOC> Iadoth nodnods <OOC> Kaj is starting to think of the bard in Asterix and Obelix... ;D <OOC> Aldean is unfamiliar. <OOC> Iadoth laughs intensely!
Kailin smiles a bit more, sitting up rightly at Aldean's offer to sing a tale and he wraps his large armos around his knees, holding himself in place as he waits for the bard to begin. He was familiar with the man's skill so he anticipated the treat as a novice often does both for the appreciation of fine quality and the opportunity to learn from a master.
<OOC> Aldean says, "FYI, it's a little long, so I probably will not include the whole thing." <OOC> Aldean says, "I will spam, though. Fair warning." <OOC> Iadoth says, "That's alright; maybe give us a reference too, so we can investigate at our leisure?" <OOC> Aldean says, "Sure."
Sensing acceptance, Aldean lifts the pipes to his lips and begins a simple, haunting tune that recalls waves off a coastline, or a ship at sea. It's a few lines of intro before he lowers them to sing without accompaniment.
In the clipper ship Tryphena, swingin' nor'ard from the line
With the trade wind blowin' steady and her flyin' kites a-shine
Five and sixty days from Gustav with her freight of Foochow teas
There a sailor man lay dyin' and the words he spoke were these
"Many a year I've knowed this packet, and I've got to like her well
And I've not much hope of heavens, and I've not much use for hell
But if so be as they'll let me, by the great hook-block I swear
When the old Tryphena wants me, dead as livin' I'll be there"
There'll be one more at the halyards, there'll be one more on the yard
Fistin' down from thundering courses, when they're frosted good and hard
One more tallyin' on the forebrace when they're waist neck deep in foam
One more hand to sweat the tops'l's up and sheet t'ga'ns'l's home
He goes on to tell off how this man did exactly as he promised -- the sailors would never hear him come and never see him go, but he's always wherever he's needed, no matter who went or came, no matter what the ship carried or who captained or owned it. You couldn't prove it ... but you kinda knew when he was there and when he wasn't.
<OOC> Aldean says, "The song is called Tryphena's Extra Hand." <OOC> Iadoth says, "That's really nice!" <OOC> Iadoth says, "Did you have a particular version in mind?" <OOC> Iadoth loves folk songs. <OOC> Aldean says, "The one I know best is from a group called Scales and Crosstones, but the Sherringham Shantymen also do it."
Iadoth looks up from her lyre and claps in glee! She smiles widely as the song comes to its conclusion, and laughs. When it finishes, she almost mourns its passage --- the mark of a good bard.
<OOC> Aldean says, "DO people care of I don't bother to roll, or would you rather I did?"
The badger yawns there, and settles near the smoke. It carries a sweeter flavor, now, and he sways, on occasion, from side to side as the music continues. He seems remarkedly chill at the moment.
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Story is story, generally. ^^;" <OOC> Aldean nods. <OOC> Aldean says, "My thought but others did so I thought I'd ask." <OOC> Ormarr says, "I mean, if you really want to? But Aldean knows what he's doing, so." <OOC> Aldean says, "Nah, rather not." <OOC> Iadoth mms. <OOC> Kaj says, "Don't bother, just rock on :)" <OOC> Aldean says, "K, am done if folks would like to pose."
"Hehhh," Alba breathes, tipping back in her hammock. "Would that I knew the meaning of those great-water words, but it amuses me, to think of a man who loves beyond death. How the Grey Lady must be annoyed by him..."
<OOC> Alba says, "Alba now has the mental image of Vardama, lifting her skirts so she doesn't get them wet, running over the ocean after a ghost yelling for it to get back here." <OOC> Ormarr d'aww. :3 <OOC> Aldean XD <OOC> Iadoth has the mental image of /Vardama lifting her skirts/... <OOC> Ormarr sobs. <OOC> Iadoth ... and is disturbed. <OOC> Ormarr says, "Corpse leeeegggs... D:" <OOC> Aldean says, "Serriel doesn't seem to mind." <OOC> Durrankar puts up Def Leppard for Aldean <OOC> Ormarr says, "Nope. XD" <OOC> Aldean says, "Speaking of -- you wanna upset an arvek?" <OOC> Aldean says, "Mention that. XD" <OOC> Ormarr says, "What, the corpse-pale legs? <.<" <OOC> Aldean says, "I would never do that. Especially not if I was a Tarienite." <OOC> Ormarr >.> <OOC> Aldean says, "Corpose-legs." <OOC> Aldean would never do anything irreverent or irresponsible. <OOC> Ormarr uh-huh. XD <OOC> Iadoth doesn't believe that. <OOC> Aldean says, "I wish MUSH had a sarcasm font XD"
"Heeey..." the badger says as he squints at Kaj. He looks bemused, amused even as he stares at the giantborn. "When'd you turn into a giant..." he says. He continues swaying to the tune, for however long there is one. But he focuses, Really Hard, on the giantborn.
<OOC> Kaj says, "Heh"
The wild sil gives another shake of the lyre. Still it is not /quite/ right. Iadoth sighs deeply. "I will play song, lullabying, for to children, yes? but lyre must attenting first." She starts again with the tuning.
GAME: Iadoth rolls Perform/String: (4)+9: 13
Kaj smiles at the badger, not knowing what else to do when faced with a talking pile of hairy attitude.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Oh come on. Can I please roll a little higher." <OOC> Iadoth says, "Who's up next? Alba?" <OOC> Aldean says, "Think she just went. Rule of three, Iadoth, means wait for three poses to go by before you go agaon." <OOC> Aldean says, "Used in large scenes where waiting for everyone to go is a bit like watching snails mate." <OOC> Kaj says, "GIANT talking pile of hairy attidude, I mean ;)" <OOC> Iadoth gurgles. "I meant, umm, IC'ly. Who wants to yarn-weave next?" Iadoth smiles, too. <OOC> Iadoth says, "Toujours la politesse." <OOC> Aldean says, "Heh, okay." <OOC> Alba hm. I think I may have something, but Iadoth next! Or Kailin. Or hell, Ormarr. I'm pretty sure half-drunk Ormarr can spin a damn fine yarn. <OOC> Alba says, "He just has to hold it in place and let the room do the rest of the work, after all. :D" <OOC> Kailin says, "I don't have anything like all that. So, I don't know. Everyone else seems much better prepared." <OOC> Ormarr <.< <OOC> Ormarr >.> <OOC> Aldean says, "Ha yeah right, I just picked through all the stuff I've accumulated that I know to be in Aldean's repertoire over the months that I've played him." <OOC> Aldean says, "And picked something I hadn't done in a while." <OOC> Ormarr just kinda goes with the floooow, maaan. :3 <OOC> Aldean says, "One does not make a habit of singing something like that when your girlfriend is Vardamen." <OOC> Kaj says, "C'mon Alba, let's have some from spiderwitch :)" <OOC> Alba will tell a story, promise! Just wants someone to go first. <OOC> Kaj smiles and nods. <OOC> Iadoth can't go until the dice give me a better result. My hands are tied. <OOC> Kaj says, "I can go again if people just want to spectate more than stuffs" <OOC> Aldean says, "Hang on." <OOC> Iadoth holds on! <OOC> Un'eth returns. <OOC> Iadoth dundundun! <OOC> Iadoth says, "I think that's a voluntary gesture from Uneth." <OOC> Ormarr laughs. <OOC> Kaj chuckles :)
Baritone laughter from Aldean. He'd let the song fade and lowered the pipes, his grin easy and wide at the approval, but as Iadoth tries again, he finally shakes his head. "Would ye have a hand with that, lass?" He, too, seems to be relaxing as the smoke drifts in his direction, and his laughter is a little more easily a little more frequent.
<OOC> Aldean thinks she wanted someone else just to pose so there's three poses between hers :) <OOC> Ormarr boing. :3
Iadoth sighs, shakes her head, and hands the lyre to Aldean. She /has/ to get better at tuning this heirloom.
"...kinda taaaaco," the badger says slowly as he focuses on the giant. Ormarr, who has been setting very, very close to the fire and its sweet-smoke, sets his large head on his paws as he squints at the man. The ears flex, flare out to the sides as he focuses on it, and contemplates why Kaj briefly transformed into a walking, talking taco-man.
And why there's red sauce coming out of his head. At any rate, the giantborn gets the most intense stare ever, though his attention does wander...perhaps Alba transformed into a taco.
Nope.
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Witch of nope. :("
<OOC> Kaj says, "Where do Tacos come from, in this world? :)"
<OOC> Kaj says, "Isle of Ta?"
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Tacos are a universal wonder. :3"
<OOC> Iadoth says, "It's true, they have their own Plane."
<OOC> Ormarr yus.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Plane Tacos."
<OOC> Kaj says, "Man, learn something every day"
<OOC> Iadoth winces, anticipating heavy beatbacks.
<OOC> Ormarr XD
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Sacred tacos. :3"
<OOC> Iadoth says, "That sounds like a Mexican euphemism."
<OOC> Iadoth ogods, 'That didn't come out like I wanted it to.'
<OOC> Alba says, "Wait jesus what... ORMARR WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THE FIRE."
<OOC> Ormarr :D
<OOC> Kaj points at Aldean.
<OOC> Aldean DID NOTHING
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Aldean tossed in a mushroom, Ormarr added to it. You can smell it (he's been posing that)."
<OOC> Ormarr says, "Orm may or may not be adding his own snacks on the side."
<OOC> Kaj says, "I blame the mushroom.."
<OOC> Alba snicker.
<OOC> Ormarr yes.
<OOC> Iadoth read that as 'smack on the side'.
<OOC> Aldean says, "Well, I guess smack would be the right word."
<OOC> Kaj says, "Ya."
The notion of the song is intriguing, and perhaps possible given will, though Uneth does not feel a ship, a thing, to be worthy of that devotion. Still, the melody is pleasant, and she is in a remarkably pleasant mood... which the smoke cannot claim credit for, no matter what the badger threw into the fire. She leans against the silver as she listens. When it is complete, she offers, "A wonderful tale, skald."
<OOC> Iadoth laughs.
Kailin claps lightly for Aldean's tale. His attention is drawn elsewhere as he studies the bests parts of what he just heard and the parts he believes he can capitalize on. It was interesting for him to separate off what is beyond him, musically, and what he thinks he can work on next and the amused smile on his face hides his growing list of discarded wonders. He turns then and grabs his pack, setting it beside him and opening it up to get at the contents inside. He was likely to have to tell his tale regardless of how well it was told, so he prepares.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Okay. I'll do a song. It's 'Lowlands Away', which is an English rope-haul song. The version I am thinking of is by 'Show of Hands'. I'll get writing; it's only five verses, so I'll do the whole thing. Someone else can go in the meantime, if they like." <OOC> Alba nodnod. <OOC> Aldean says, "Ooh, I know it." <OOC> Un'eth is surprised that Alba has not offered to sing "Itsy bitsy spider" <OOC> Kaj dies <OOC> Ormarr :D <OOC> Kailin will throw in whenever. <OOC> Aldean XD
The settling silence around the fire seems to have Alba concerned; with none coming forth to tell their tales, she shifts back and forth in her hammock. "...Are there no other tales to be told?"
<OOC> Ormarr <.< <OOC> Aldean says, "Go for it, Kailin."
Kailin stands up, grabbing his back as he moves towards the center of the group. "I don't have nothing fancy like the rest of you guys. I just have me stories, as told in the way I was taught to tell em. I been fighting monsters o'er the last months more than I can even remember, so there's lots of tales to be tellin' and this is just one. Simple and quick." He sets the pack down and begins to wander back and forth, his voice taking on a deeper, quality with his booming voice upped a notch.
He clears his throats and begins with a nod and a motion to the east. "Just outside of Alexandria was a town that did some mining who had some of them monsters go missing. A tunnel collapse had screwed up the ways and when they cleared it out, they found new tunnels. But the people they sent to look for them didn't come back and that meant trouble. So they sent word to Alexandria and we went on out to check it out. We went down the original tunnels and then the new ones, twistin and turnin all around. Eventually we kept goin down into the earth until it opened up into this big chamber. There was these little statues on the ground in front of an openin. But they were more than just statues."
"Soon as we got close the little things came to life and started tryin to cut us down. It took us more than a few whacks to get them to stop movin cause even when they was broken, they kept formin up again. Had to get the pieces real small, you see, before the magic been beat outta them. So we kept on goin and behind that chamber was this little red dragon. But it weren't alone. There was a couple of demons down there with em. One of them went fast, but the other was a bit tougher. We got focused on the dragon and the big ball of fire it spit out at us that we left that second little demon alive too long. I just managed to get in a few final whacks at the dragon when one that devil got ahold of me and tried to drink the life outta me. Luckily, it was taken down, but I was sick and weak the whole way back to town. But we cleared the tunnels and I got a tale to tell worth tellin."
He picks up the small dragon head from his pack and shows it around. The neck has been cut roughly, torn more than anything, with dried bits of gore covering it. Kailin passes it around to anyone that wants to take a look more closely. Those who had been on jobs with Kailin before might recognize that he always took something from each job to remember it by.
<OOC> Iadoth urghs, grizzly!
Kaj takes the dragon head and hols it for a long time, turning it and lifting it and even sniffing it. He looks rather sad while doing so, but says nothing.
<OOC> Kaj says, "afk" <OOC> Iadoth ocraps, can't work out how to paste into this client. <OOC> Aldean says, "TF?" <OOC> Aldean says, "Use regular copy paste." <OOC> Aldean says, "Just paste into the input window."
Iadoth turns up her nose at the offer to handle the head of a dragon, but appreciates the tale of valour in battle. She breathes deeply as the bard hands back her lyre. She gives it an experimental twang, to find it perfectly in tune. Irritating, when three of her own attempts had failed. Still, she has the airs of one grateful for assistance. She clears her throat to sing, thinking of a song she heard from travelling Xian merchants, long ago. It has the cadence of a lullaby, but is the song of sailors pulling rope from the deeps.
I dreamed the dream, the other night,
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John,
I dreamed the dream, the other night,
My lowlands away.
I saw my love, at my bedside,
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John,
All dressed in white, like some fair bride,
My lowlands away.
She said no words, she made no sound,
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John,
And then I knew, my love had drowned,
My lowlands away.
I felt the salt tears in my eyes,
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John,
And then I knew, my love had drowned,
My lowlands away.
I saw a ship, drift in the tide,
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John,
All hands on deck, the watchmen cried,
My lowlands away,
My lowlands away,
My lowlands away.
With the final line, she lets the chord ring out across the campfire. She smiles, remembering the warm Xian gentleman from whom she had learned the song. And much more.
Gradually, the badger stands up. He gives himself a good 'ole shake. Dust and limbs fall off as he does, and he... "Why're you passin' a taco around?" he asks, apparently not seeing the head. He stares at the thing for a time, then looks from it to the two dragonkin standing nearby. "Ah, hell," he mutters as he sits back down again. Squishybadger.
While Kailin is talking, Aldean's gotten up and unlatched the mug from his belt. He takes it over to the tapped barrel and fills his mug from it, then carries it back to his seat. Mobile expression and body language suggest equal interest for all the tales and songs, and he takes the head as it's passed around in his turn.
<OOC> Iadoth thinks of something from Family Guy. 'I would stand up, but honestly? Sitting down's the only thing keepin' the poop in.' <OOC> Aldean actually knows more verses than that, Iadoth, but yes, it's the one I know.
"You were strong to survive victorious," Uneth compliments Kailin following the tale. As for the trophy, she has no interest. The foe was slain, that is enough for her. Taken for meat or hide is practical, beyond that, she does not believe so.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "There are lots of songs about the lowland wars. I know another great one which Aldean'll love." <OOC> Ormarr o.O <OOC> Kailin takes trophies because his racial Ritual Magic is Show and Tell.
Iadoth isn't sure what the huge badger is talking about, but she is aware that he's likely to be having some kind of episode, be it religious, arcane or mundane. She's not sure. She makes sure to avoid breathing in the smoke at his side of the campfire, wishing to keep a clear head. She stands, and brushes herself down, before wandering over to the barrel and filling her own little cup.
<OOC> Aldean says, "Makes sense." <OOC> Iadoth giggles.
Ormarr ambles off a ways from the fire, and sits down to rest. A mouse that runs by finds itself quickly snatched, but he seems to have settled down for the evening, away from the smoke.
"Better, better," Alba murmurs, shifting to the edge of the hammock... which abruptly lets go of its hold on the bridge. Her landing is light, and the hammock swiftly unravels and retracts, slithering along the ground to disappear into the witch's shaggy cloak. "Hn. A tale also, have I to tell. For it poor hospitality, to be offered water without offering in turn. Hn..." Circling the fire, she tilts her mask down toward it, as though considering how best to begin.
"Aye," Aldean agrees, taking a swig of the brew -- and making a face. He drinks it, though, and never mind the consequences. "Guild contract, then?" And then Alba begins, and he quiets to turn his attention to her.
Un'eth shifts her attention to Alba, also. She has proven one of few words, as Uneth knows her, so this is a change. Ear-frills move absently with her curiosity.
"Long and long ago, away where the winds stir sand to pick flesh from bone, bare clots of men wandered over and about the dunes of the great sea. From one spring to another, they would roam and roam, never to settle for fear of harming all the clans." A tendril of hair slithered out from beneath the pelt and picked up a small twig. Alba snaps her fingers away from sight, and with a soft *puff* the twig caught fire, to be tossed into the fire. "There are many laws of the Sandsea, rules one must follow to survive the baking air and scorching sand, but to the clans, the chiefest among them is this; the water you put into your belly is not yours. It is not the clan's. It is water for *all.* The water that a greedy man hoards, is water taken from the mouth of a child. The water that is fouled, dooms entire clans to disease and death. These are the worst crimes among the clans, and the only answer to them is a spear to the belly of every elder of that clan, for knowing and permitting this to happen.
"This, then, is the tale of the Fire Moon Clan."
Un'eth leans upright, and then forward, towards the masked speaker. This tale piques her interest perhaps more than those previous. The trials of survival are close to her, afterall, and her tail sways expectantly.
Durrankar has been listening the whole time....really. or else Uneth with help him catch up.
Ormarr looks up as the tale goes through. He sways slightly where he rests, and there are crumbs of food between the giant paws. They smell of different things, of different forms and shapes. He appears interested.
As the description of a different culture and way of life begins the tale, it has Aldean's undivided attention as well ... and it sounds as if she's actually a good storyteller.
Iadoth has no small amount of fear for the witch, but settles into listen to Alba's story of a land faraway. The tale has a familiar ring. She has met Veyshanti travellers before now, and heard their tales --- always spiced with as much adventure as their food. She looks forward to them every time.
"It is known and understood," Alba continued, "that a clan may gain its strength by raiding. The folk of the cities are soft, and some choose to treat with the djinns at the desert's heart. The djinns care less for these folk than the boot cares for the ant it may crush, and ten or twelve less rattling their gates of a year, matters not at all. But the folk of the cities carry things that others of their like prize, and so it is also known and understood that shrewd raiding may allow a clan to flourish. But the chieftain of the Fire Moon Clan, he of five wives and thirty grandchildren, blessed with greater fortune than any three other clans upon the Dune Sea... Hn. City riches began to be pleasing to his eye, and he coveted them. His warriors were skilled and his sorcerors powerful, but he began to believe that perhaps he was like the city kings, their equal in wealth and power. His elders, blinded by their regard for their chieftan's victories, counseled that if he could defeat Tashraan's armies in battle, he would prove the Fire Moon Clan its equal, and could rule the Dune Sea entire.
"The chieftan agreed -- as of course he must -- and began to dream of the wonders he would work for the clans, should he rule the Sea. He would gather the faithful and set them to turn the oases into lakes, carve a web of rivers between each, and transform the Dune Sea into a lush wood, bursting with life. Cities and walls would be built, so that his people would never again have to endure the harsh winds and killing sun. He would learn from the soft Tashraani, and do better."
Un'eth already begins to form her own opinion of this chieftain. Prolific or not, he seems... well, she keeps her opinion to herself, aside from a snort. Neither the image that forms, as tales are intended to create, nor the words Alba speaks to tell it, are reduced by her nascent notions.
"Sounds like a real winner, eh?" the badger says. He looks up from his impromptu meal enough to speak. Otherwise, he tends to listen, there on the earth. Smelly and comfortable.
"Damned lot o' tales o' them as gain power an' get arrogant. Most of 'em ain't end well fer a lot of folk." Aldean puts in the remark quietly, around a swig of drink, but quiets for the tale to conintue.
"But first, he had to prove the Fire Moons equal to Tashraan. But their armies were great, their riders swift, and their temples filled with the zealous and powerful. How, then, could he do this thing?" The pelt parts, and a dark-skinned hand emerges, holding a clear glass vial, filled with a thin, transparent yellowish liquid.
"It is known that the chieftain's intentions were innocent, and all he wished was to rescue the clans from the torment of their wanderings. What is not known, were those of the clan elders. Whether the plan they formed was that of a black, malicious liver, or simply foolish and short-sighted. But it was from them, that the plan was formed. There exists a plant that dwells within the caves on the rim of the Dune Sea. It bears a fruit, whose seeds are coated in a poison that boils away the guts of those who eat it carelessly. But the careful will know that one need only soak the seed in the pulp of the sand-pear, to make it safe to eat.
"Thus, the plan; the chieftain's scouts would collect these seeds, and his warriors would rouse the wrath of Tashraan's armies. The seeds would be dropped into the nearest oasis, two days' ride out, and the army made to chase the clan's warriors there and beyond. When the army takes its fill of water and leaves, the scouts come after, and drop the crushed sand-pears in.
"A simple plan."
Iadoth screws up her face in distaste, having learned the hard way the hardships that traps and trickery can lead to.
Durrankar noms on more meat strip. "I feel bad sitting here and listening to others share....and not having anything to share."
"Mmmmm, liver," the badger says. He's off in his daydream state for a while, before refocusing on the witch. "Wait, poison?" he says. He starts to stand up, and decides laying down is better, instead.
"But the chieftain forgot the Second Law of the Dune Sea, and further forgot that the White Palm Clan's rovings would bring them to this oasis next. By the time the Fire Moon warriors reached the oasis, Tashraan's armies less than a single dune behind, there was a wailing that could be heard beyond the Tower of Wind and Flame, for the poison was thinned in the water, enough that it did not begin to act until the last elder had drunk his fill.
"Six dozen White Palm hunters, scouts, elders, nurses, children... every one lay dead throughout the oasis. The Second Law had been broken, and the clan of another paid the price. It would be the first time in two hundred years, that all the clans would meet and act as one."
<OOC> Ormarr needs to take a break for supper!
At the description, Aldean's expression twists in disgust, but he says nothing.
<OOC> Iadoth should /probably/ consider bedtime quite soon.
"It is known," Alba repeats, "that the desires of the Fire Moon chieftain were good, as wetlanders would count them. But in his desire to make wetlands of the Dune Sea, he fell to wetlander blindness. One spear from each of the clans was buried in his belly, his name erased from the memory of every shaman present, and his elders were slaughtered to a man. His wives and children divided among the poorest of the clans, that they would have the chieftain's pride scoured from them by the wind and sun. The rest of the clan, invited to join those who would have them.
"This is the tale of the Fire Moon clan; this is the lesson of the Second Law of the Sandsea.
"Your water is not your own."
Finally, Alba's tale winds down, and she seems to come out of herself, mask turning this way and that as though she'd be blinking at the remaining listeners.
<OOC> Alba says, "Bwarg, Dune Sea." <OOC> Alba mixes that up a lot, thanks to Alba's previous incarnation. XD <OOC> Iadoth likes Sandsea too, unless it's a different IC place. <OOC> Alba says, "The Dune Sea is Ea's megadesert; the Sandsea is Ivalice's, which is where my other MU* is set. XD" <OOC> Aldean grins. <OOC> Aldean thought it sounded familiar. <OOC> Iadoth smiles. <OOC> Iadoth says, "Great story, Alba." <OOC> Alba n_n <OOC> Durrankar says, "The Dune Sea......Where Jabba the Hutt feeds the Mighty Sarlaac." <OOC> Aldean says, "If you need to go to bed, maybe a closing pose, Iadoth, about them telling tales until it got too cold to sit there?" <OOC> Iadoth says, "I thought it was were Muadib lived." <OOC> Iadoth considers whether to watch Double Jeopardy. <OOC> Alba would agree about the closing pose, though; gotta wrap a bow on this meetup, after all! <OOC> Aldean says, "Yup! And I need to snag dinner before next plot."
The group sat around the fire for many hours more, telling more stories, singing more songs, and making merry with the 'drink' brought by the giant badger. Stories of homelands, and other places; stories of heroism, and cowardice; stories of hatred, and of love. Some were told in native tongues, and some in rough-hewn tradespeak. But all were told with good intentions, and that's what counts.
One by one, the participants made excuses, and left to the night, mostly blaming the hour, or the cold. Durrankar and Uneth were, of course, given special dispensation. One by one, until only Iadoth was left, warming her hands on the dying embers, thinking of the new stories she had learned. Thinking of the stories she had told herself. Thinking how her parents would be proud of this travelling, storyweaving bard.
Iadoth stands up, calls to her horse, and rides away into the night, heading north back to Mictlan. The night was done.
<OOC> Iadoth says, "Well, thanks guys. That was an enjoyable meetup!" <OOC> Alba says, "And *that* is a lovely bow. :D" <OOC> Aldean says, "Thank you for running!" <OOC> Aldean says, "Yes, yes it is." <OOC> Durrankar says, "hee. Thanks Iadoth." <OOC> Iadoth arf. <OOC> Aldean noms all! <OOC> Aldean says, "And runs off." <OOC> Alba does too! <OOC> Aldean says, "I need dinner." <OOC> Iadoth would +nom again, if he could! <OOC> Durrankar noms all <OOC> Alba allllllmost 1500 XP from level. <OOC> Iadoth says, "Y'all are good sports. Now to get the duvet and watch some of Double Jeopardy and fall asleep on the sofa. FOR THAT IS THE WAY OF DAD." <OOC> Alba XD