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Lady Tam

The Kingdom of Mordant

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--Begin--

 

Balus gives the man his moment of reverie, honoring those that have passed, then he continues.

 

"Well, more correctly, we're around incase something happens to the eldest son." he chuckles. "Not that I think much can happen to a miller's son."

 

Balus gives a grin. "Besides, had I been born eldest, I would be chained to a grinding stone. This way, I can make my own way in the world, and meet monks, elves, dwarves, and practice The Art."

 

--End--

 

--lstormhammer

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Reg makes his decision.

 

"Well Balus, you seem an honourable sort of person, would you be interested in joining my little troupe? Dependent of course on everyone agreeing. I will see if I can arrange a meeting of my people, then shall we meet up again?"

 

Reg waits patiently for Balus's response.

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--begin--

 

Balus arches his eyebrow, then smirks. "I had a feeling this was an interview of some kind. Fool am I for not seeing it earlier."

 

He thinks on it a moment, looking at the cat (who turns her head and looks back at her person). After a few more moments, he nods. "Very well, if I passed the initial interview, sure. Let's meet the rest of your troupe. But I do ask; No more displays of Magick, I'm pretty tuckered out from the show..." he grins.

 

--End--

 

--lstormhammer

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Reg looks pleased.

 

"Okay then I will be back in about an hour after I have consulted with the rest of my party."

 

Reg then stands up and moves around the room speaking to the various people in the party. He comments on their lack of magical support and that from initial appearances Balus can be trusted. He also asks that everyone come to the upstairs bedroom.

 

He also whispers something to Anden.

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--Begin--

 

Balus smiles to the monk, picking up Hat and Cat and Staff. "Very well. Should you need of me, I am at the private room upstairs at the end of the hall. I shall look forward to your companion's approval, good evening, Reginald"

 

With that, he drains the rest of his bier, lets the cat perch atop his shoulder, and takes to the stairs to his room...

 

--End--

 

--lstormhammer

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I am in the middle of my meal, it is very good and reminds me of home, when Lucius stands and begins his performance.

 As he tunes his harp, in preparation, the sounds of a drum can be heard, but there is no drummer.  ???  More magic?  I glance at Reg and the mage, but they are in conversation, so the magic is not coming from him.  Where then?  Ahhh, it must be the harp.  I have heard of items that are enchanted, that's what it must be, the harp.

 As he begins his first song the drumming continues and harmonizes with the harp.  As I eat and listen the song tells a story, though it makes me feel empowered, it continues on and on, not unlike one of his orations.  I finish my meal and continue listening.  At the end of the song all turns out well.  And, I feel happy that it did.

 His second song is more to my liking, "The Grain and the Millhouse", it was always a requested song at the harvest feastival.  As people start to get up and dance, my server comes to my table, asking if I need anything.

 I reply, "Yes, your hand for this dance if you please." (diplomacy check +2, if required.)  If she accepts, I dance her around the room several times (dex check +2, if required), tip her another silver for her time, and request another bier to quench my thirst.  If she declines, I request another bier, then clap, stomp and sing along with the rest of the crowd.

 After some time, Lucius, seemed to become tired of the continuing melody, and slowly switches to his third song.  The drum dies away, and the only instrument heard is his harp.  The song is soft and lingering, and very relaxing after the jig he just finished.

 At the end of the song, I finish what is left of my second bier, get up and start to head upstairs, when I am stopped by Reg and his proposal of a meeting with the mage.  I agree, and retake my seat to wait for the meeting.  If the serving girl comes around (ooc: if she's cute) I'll ask for some water and try to engage her in small talk, and possibly set up a later meeting :love:, after the meeting with the mage.  (diplomacy check +2, if required) (ooc: Heck, I'm 18 away from home for the first time and have had 2 biers.).  Regardless, of the outcome I remain respectful through the whole exchange.     :)

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Anden returns from his leisurely and quite satisfactory bath refreshed and smelling a little less like horses, leather and steel. As the singing dies down he takes a seat close to either the fire or the window (depending how warm it is by now) to polish any encroaching rust out of his armour and sword, murmuring a prayer to the gods of battle as he does.

 

He watches the wizard leave the room, and is very still for a moment. Then he shrugs and goes back to his work, now treating the leathers, and finally he checks on the horses; seeing them well cared for he tips the stablehands generously.

 

He sais all the approriate evening prayers quietly and unobtrusively in his seat in one corner of the common room, before bestowing an ear-scratching on both the cat and the reptilian, gathering his things, and stowing them in his room, where he lies awake for some time watching the candle burn down...

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Mookie, unlike her person, doesn't not like nasty rotten grain-juice, and any attempts to the contrary will be met with aloof disdain. Further attempts will result in leaving the bar in a huff, tail in the air.

 

And she will not be pawed at, thank you very much. But... ooh! scritchies... purrrrr....

 

--lstormhammer

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Archibald, having been rebuffed by the cat, weaves his silent unobtrusive way to the table where the arm-wrestling is taking place.

 

He climbs up to a vacant chair, and sits on his haunches, resting what for lack of a better word are his elbows on the table. (taking 20 on the Move Quietly And Not Be Noticed Sitting Here check if necessary)

 

When the match finishes, he stands up, leaning over the table.  With a big friendly (and pointy) smile, he puts his own arm on the table, in the classic pose of one wanting in on an arm-wrestling match.

 

"So," he doesn't say to those there.  "What's the latest news from around here?"

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Gorin looks up from his stout brew and looks around the table as everyone seems to be relating their life stories.  Usually not one to be too open, the beer has relaxed him a bit.

 

"I left our mountain home several years ago, following the guidance of my god.  The Lord of Battle wishes justice to be brought to all the world, and that's why I'm here."  He takes a another long pull, draining his tankard.  He calls for another, but does not reveal any more information about himself.

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After attempting (win or lose) to make a date with the serving girl, Dymitri, curious about the kobold raids, still having some time and being a farmer, he walks over to the table where the men were speaking of the raids.  He asks if he may sit, and speak with them about farming in the area and the recent raids. (gather info check +2)

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Archibald, having been rebuffed by the cat, weaves his silent unobtrusive way to the table where the arm-wrestling is taking place.

 

He climbs up to a vacant chair, and sits on his haunches, resting what for lack of a better word are his elbows on the table. (taking 20 on the Move Quietly And Not Be Noticed Sitting Here check if necessary)

 

When the match finishes, he stands up, leaning over the table.  With a big friendly (and pointy) smile, he puts his own arm on the table, in the classic pose of one wanting in on an arm-wrestling match.

 

"So," he doesn't say to those there.  "What's the latest news from around here?"

The people at the table jump backwards a bit in their chairs. “By the gods! “ Exclaims one “A talking lizard!”

  “That t’ain’t no lizard.” Another says, as he peers at Archie. “Lizards don’t have wings.”

    Looking more closely at Archie the first one asks “What sort of creature are you? Some Wizards pet that’s gone astray?”

 

After attempting (win or lose) to make a date with the serving girl, Dymitri, curious about the kobold raids, still having some time and being a farmer, he walks over to the table where the men were speaking of the raids.  He asks if he may sit, and speak with them about farming in the area and the recent raids.

 

 The serving girl politely turns Dymitri  Down “Mistress Lilly don’t like us getting’ too friendly with the customers. She don’t run that kinda place and don’t want a reputation for doin’ so.” She explains. And she continues on with her work.

 The farmers look up from their conversation; one of them looks Dymitri up and down “You a merc of some type?” he asks “Or maybe a bounty hunter?”

 “Either way” says another “Have a seat. It hurts my neck looking up at a tall feller like you.” They make room for Dymitri to sit down and call for another round of drinks.

  Lucious’s music goes over fairly well, but there are calls for more songs, Songs of a more “bawdy” nature. The crowd wants some lively music that they can hoot and holler over. Music to liven the night up with laughter and good natured jesting.

LT

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--begin--

 

Upstairs, Balus sits in his suite, a tome opened in front of him on the table. Mookie, having had quite enough attention, thank you very much, has curled up on the down bedding, and after some kneading, has turned into a black and white puddle with cat ears poking out.

 

Despite the phenomenal magick powers wizards are known for, the major downside is a lot of reading from tomes that were written hundreds of years ago. While the essential formulae are there to manipulate The Art, it still makes for a dry reading. Balus perches one elbow on the table, and props his head up against it, his eyes scanning the arcane words for their meaning. As he does so, he begins murmuring as he reads along.

 

“For myghty arcayne energyes doth wyeld, yon wyzard must lyrne thyne essense of Thyne Art...” Balus shakes his head. “Man, theses guys needed to learn how to tell a story...” He stretches arms above his head, then continues reading.

 

“Knowe that ye posess four Grand Sphyres to The Art; Ayr, Fyre, Urth, and Watyr. Any of these, alone or in combynation may produce great effects to theyre commander...”

 

And Balus continues reading such boring tomes until he finally drifts off to slumber, more than like his head using the musty tome as a pillow right at the table.

 

--End--

 

--lstormhammer

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"I am nobody's pet," Archibald doesn't reply haughtily.  "I am Archibald, friend of kings and princes, and I was trying to engage you in polite conversation.  Now, are you going to arm-wrestle or not?"

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