Bard's Festival!! The Spring Fling. (Love/Encouragement)

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Bard's Festival!! The Spring Fling. (Love/Encouragement)

Postby BardsCouncil » Wed Apr 27, 2005 8:27 pm

A tall and slender figure walks slowly in the Splintered ChamberPot, winding a path between the tables. Looking at the songhouse, the cloaked Bard sighs softly and pulls slightly at the broach of the cloak. As he tugs it off his shoulders, the white-blond hair of Orion is revealed and he gazes at the empty office set along the side wall. The door fails to open and Orion hears a faint growling sound from the rafters.

In a niche, lined in velvet, a small shower of sparks and dischordant harp notes erupts from the dragonharp. Orion blinks in surprise as he would have sworn on the decking of the Grey Ships that the vacant Guildmaster would have taken Agarak with him.
Apparently not... and it seems that the troublesome little harp is missing 'Hue as much as the rest of us are.

Agarak, most melodious of all harps, will you please let call the Bards to come for a festival? A rumbling snort echos down from the niche, not the greatest of signs, nor is the low thrumming strands of sound. The Elf swallows and starts to recite a poem, as much for the departed Erinhue as for the moody dragonharp

Faith is strange. It is beyond our sight
It's that which guides us through the night.
Uncatchable, untamable, untouchable, unbound.
It cannot be bought; it must only be found.
It chases despair and returns to us mirth.
Good spirits that follow us from labor to berth.
Faith carries us on with simple belief
That when we cross over, there will be relief.
Faith never is easy, it tweren't meant to be.
But faith can do much, if you have faith in me.


Agarak, I'm asking you: Have faith in me. As the Elf sang, something relented in the dragonharp's mind and a soft noise like that of windchimes sounds in his ears. A definate pull accompanies the chime, calling every bard to come to the ChamberPot. The trio of barsprites rush up from the bar, the pink Loo leading the bluish Plunge and Flush, as they begin to refresh the kegs and bottles. Cleaning the stage with fervor to welcome a long scattered crowd. A new festival was starting
Last edited by BardsCouncil on Thu Apr 28, 2005 8:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby LadyEdana » Wed Apr 27, 2005 9:29 pm

Edana enters the Chamberpot, shedding her rain soaked cloak and hanging it on a peg near the door. She sets her harp down on the table, and looks around. Looks like not many are here. Yes we do miss Master Hue, but he is where he is need more right now.

Edana sits down at a table in the corner and waits for more people to arrive.

OOC: Sorry, not a very good RP post, I'm a bit tired.
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Postby Jiyadan » Wed Apr 27, 2005 10:24 pm

Jiyadan hummed along to some ethereal tune that he could not place, seemingly echoing in his mind as he rode along the well-worn path to the famous haunt of all the Bards.

He had been traveling far for some time and had not had the pleasure of relaxing with his fellows for longer than he had liked and looked forward to some reunions now. He had heard the Scribe had left abruptly after the wedding, heading North as was her wont. He wondered after her a moment, but knew she took well enough care of herself.

His thoughts were interrupted when the sun came out from behind some clouds that it had been hiding behind and hit full on his face, bringing warmth and pulling a broad smile from Jiyadan's lips. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the bright orb.

Listening to the sounds of birds all around, greeting the sun themselves, he rode on in perfect tranquility. Nothea's gate was smooth and easy, creating a sort of rocking sensation that only enhanced the peace of the moments.

Before long, the Splintered Chamberpot came into view and his grin returned, riding up to the stables to stall Nothea before heading inside.

Not many had arrived yet, and that was alright with him. It would give him a chance to settle first and meet those who arrived on a bit more relaxed terms.

Walking first up to Orion, he extended his hand to the elf. "It is good to see you again. Forgive me for missing your wedding, but congratulations to you. A wife is the best thing that can happen to a man.. or an elf."
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Postby Cerridwen » Wed Apr 27, 2005 10:44 pm

Yes, carn it all, I'm editing. It's late and I've had more to do than I'm going to talk about. :P

--------------------------

Cerri slipped downstairs after getting out of makeup and costume and into something a bit more comfortable. The tea had been quite refreshing after the tense goings-on. She still didn't have a clue what she was going to do, but that was quite alright.
She hadn't known Agarak was even still here. The poor thing, all alone and nobody to comfort him...
She wondered if another dragon's company would do him any good, and decided that the little charmer would take care of that if she wanted to.
She crept quietly down the stairs and settled herself in the nearly-silent downstairs of the Inn. It was as quiet as any sanctuary down here, the mood fitting to the occasion.
This would be no raucous get-together, she felt. She found a table and settled in to wait.
Last edited by Cerridwen on Thu Apr 28, 2005 12:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby The_Fool » Wed Apr 27, 2005 11:58 pm

Façade walked slowly beside his horse along the road, his boots coated in a thin film of dust, his blond hair tied back and out of the way in a manner much more precise than his usual style. Beside him walked a woman of undoubtedly Haradrim descent, her thick dark hair pulled off her own face and up into a slightly messy bun. She was a small woman, petite; her large dark eyes watching him carefully as she walked to his right, her own horse walking patiently behind her. The animal was slight of build, showing in the lines of its forehead and legs the possibility of blood from the desert horses.

"Finnie," Lina broke the silence carefully. Her brother had been sombre of mood ever since he had come to them: His foster family, a gypsy clan who had taken him in during his youth when his father had forced him out of his home forever.

"Hmmm?" he raised his head to look at her. The dark circles under his eyes still hadn't faded completely. She sighed. His recovery from heartache had not been easy. At least he was not as gaunt looking as he had been.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No I'm not sure," Façade replied, glancing up the road that stretched before them. "But I have to return sooner or later."

Lina nodded her silent agreement, brushing off a floating dandelion seed that bumped against the soft deerskin of her pants. Her own boots were as coated in road dust as her brother's, the large belt buckle that the clan's favoured glinting in the sunlight. "Will you sing?"

Silence greeted her, the Fool's face growing closed and somewhat pained. "I will play," Façade said finally. "You may sing if you like."

"Me?" Lina gave a slight laugh. "A gypsy, one of the Shi'uri, sing at a Bards Festival? I do not know if they would approve of me hermano."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Façade's mouth. "Do not worry hermana," he returned, the hint of his usual good humour seeping into his voice, "I have been teaching them about our ways from the moment they let me in the door."

Lina laughed, a flash of white teeth in stark contrast to the honey-dark of her skin. "At least they will not run screaming when they see me eh?"

Façade gave a sharp snort, causing Lymeric to throw up his head and dance sideways. Lina stepped smoothly to one side, pulling her own mount out of the way. Both she and Façade knew the gelding's ways well. "I don't think anyone will ever run screaming from you little sister," Façade remarked once he had calmed his horse. "You're too short to inspire fear." He gave a quick grin, his darker mood at returning to the 'Pot lightening with his sister's presence.

"Ai!" Lina protested, skipping across the road to aim a kick at her brother's shins. He leapt sideways just in time to avoid it, earning himself only a brief clip from her boot toe. "Usted no tiene las maneras. ¿Eso es cómo usted habla a todas las mujeres que usted sabe?" *

"Oh no," Façade returned, his voice carefully modulated and calm. "Only you. My 'little' sister."

"'Little' sister is it?" Lina snorted, giving him a wry smile. "Well then I shall call you 'Estaca'. We shall see how your Bard friends like you then hmm?"

Façade, who had so far been dwelling on the more painful moments of his last visit to the 'Pot in the silences, could deny himself amusement no longer. To be called 'beanpole' by his sister in front of those of the Guild was far too comical an idea. Especially considering the majority of them would have no idea what she was saying. He barked out a laugh, grinning at her as her own face brightened and she smiled back.

"Good to see you laughing again Finnie," she said gently.

"You always make me laugh," Façade replied, reaching out to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Much to my disgust. Even when I was intent on keeping a thunderously bad temper you'd manage to snap me out of it."

"Call it a gift," Lina grinned, looking up at him.

"I wouldn't go that far," Façade remarked.

"Estaca," Lina said.

"Camarón," * Façade shot back.

They walked the rest of the road side by side, watching the landscape pass them by with absent interest until they reached the 'Pot. Leading his sister to the stables Façade had their horses placed in two of the warm stalls, his own horse stabled next to Lina's. He tried not to look at the empty space in which the Scribe's warhorse was usually kept. The absence there was just another reminder of that painful moment of betrayal which had left him wanting only to drown himself in spirits until he could neither think nor move. Lina talked cheerfully as she untacked her horse, her light good humour helping to distract him. Once again he was thankful for her presence. After they had made sure their mounts were comfortable the two siblings wandered back towards the door.

"Ai, Finnie look!" Lina gasped, grabbing his elbow and pointing to where a handsome dapple-grey stallion was munching contentedly on a switch of hay. "A pureblood Haradric. From the desert no less! I didn't know they had any in the West."

"Nor did I," Façade remarked, glancing over at Nothea and raising his eyebrows. The horse flicked his elegantly shaped ears in their direction then resumed eating.

"Well," Lina remarked as she reached into the stall to run a hand over the stallion's back, "any Bard who has taste enough to own him is worth meeting. Still, I suppose we won't know unless we hang about in the stables until this whole Festival is over and done with and I for one would rather have something to drink. What do you say Finnie?"

"I think that's a fine idea," Façade replied. "After you, Lina."

"Gracias, Estaca."

Façade gave an amused quirk of his mouth and together they left the stables, crossing the cobbled courtyard to enter the 'Pot. So far it was relatively empty, which pleased both Façade and his sister. It would give him time to adjust to the surroundings he had so far been avoiding, and it would give her time to take in the grander aspects of the Bardic Hall. Content to merely observe Façade led her over to the bar, making sure she had her own seat before taking one himself.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

*"You have no manners. Is that how you talk to all the women you know?"
* Shrimp
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Postby LadyEdana » Thu Apr 28, 2005 7:53 am

Edana watched as Cerri came down the stairs and Jiyadan, Finnie and Lina came in from the soggy road. She watched Jiyadan approach Orion, and decided to meet this unfamiliar face and get to know him. She stood up and walked smoothly over to the table at which they were situated.

Greetings, my dear Orion, I hope Aerin is doing well and will be joining us. She bowed to him and looked and Jiyadan. May I join you and be introduced to your companion here?

After sitting down she addressed Jiyadan. I'm sorry I've not gotten to really know you. I've been a bit scarse around the Guild and Champerpot of recent. She grinned her elfin ears perking up. May I ask how your travels have been?
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Postby Dubatuluk » Thu Apr 28, 2005 11:59 am

Dubatuluk's horse, Gimbatul, thundered down the hill, splashing the sides of the road as he passed. His rider, none other than Dubatuluk herself, sat astride, riding only with her knees. Her mangled hands held a large, leather-covered something which she intended not to lose.

The inn/pub she had been told to go to came in sight as she rounded the corner, surprising some locals with her thunderous appearance, and mud from her horse's hooves. She yelled an apology, but it only further scared them, and they ran off. She shrugged and slowed Gimbatul to a canter and led him to the stable. After removing his saddle, and rubbing him down, she tied him next to the dapple grey, who looked positively white in comparison, and walked into the 'Pot.

Not many people were there, and the few that were she did not know. So she made her way, silently, into a dark corner and removed her hood. There were a few gasps around the room, for no-one had seen a part-orc before, at least, not there.

Her hair, which grew only on the back of her head, was long, dark and thick, and tied into an elaborate braid. Her skin, which had once been pale and creamy, was now an off-shade of green/grey, and was mottled with fire-scars, and slashes. Her eyes, which had once been grey, were now black, and fathomless, and were set above a long, straight, eagle-like nose, and full lips-both of which seemed to be from some other face altogether.

She took off her long, black cloak and hung it next to the others, then sat down in her corner and took out a short pipe, filled, lit, and smoked the first of what would be many later on.


OOC: I hope you don't mind if my character smokes, if you do than I'll make her stop.

Edit: I apologise for the atrocious grammar and spelling that was in this post, I do not know what was up with me yesterday.
Last edited by Dubatuluk on Fri Apr 29, 2005 9:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Nicasam » Thu Apr 28, 2005 7:58 pm

Natan looked up and saw the ‘Pot, it was still far in the distance, but he did not worry, he knew he had time to reach the gates before the keepers shut them for the night.
As he stroked Gamaliel he thought of Tesar he had kept her waiting at the other festival. And that was an anvil on his chivalry for many a day afterwards.

The rain was coming down in sheets now; the gale was rocking the sign as he rode up to the door. He left Gamaliel with some comforting words and stepped into the common room. He shod his hood and cape and hung them by the roaring fireplace. He let the sound of the few bards that had already come pervade his senses.

The smells in the room brought memories out of the past, the smoke of Dub’s pipe was the strongest of these, and he had tried to count how many times he had seen her light it but he lost count somewhere near the millions.

As he walked farther in he heard the sound of a discordant harp singing throughout the room, he went to greet Agrak, Master Hue’s dragon harp.

“We all miss him my friend, we all miss him.”

As he gazed around the room once more he saw a bard he had not gotten a chance to meet the last festival sitting with a young woman. He walked over to the table and offered his hand.

“Master Façade??”


When he saw the look of confirmation in the other’s eyes he continued.

“ I am Natan son of Eron the Rohirrim and Nathira the Elf, Rider of the Riddermark and half elven. I did not have the opportunity to make your acquaintance the last festival.”

With that Natan settled into a chair and waited for a response.
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Postby Aerin » Thu Apr 28, 2005 8:14 pm

(OOC - Just to remind everyone that in RP, Orion and I are NOT with each other. He's still married to LadyG, and I'm still married to Hue. I realise this is rather interesting, as our respective partners are both away, but that's how life goes.)
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Postby The_Fool » Thu Apr 28, 2005 9:16 pm

"So what do you do for service around here?" Lina remarked, swinging around to face the bar, elbows resting on the wood top.

"Hold up a coin," Façade replied, palming a coin upwards to hold it between thumb and forefinger. It glinted in the light and almost instantly Loo popped into existence, startling Lina enough for her to swear aloud in Haradric.

"Ai, ai, ai!" she gasped, staring at the sprite who twittered cheekily at her then reached out to pluck the coin from between Façade's fingers. "Where in all the sands of hell did...she? come from?"

"She," the Fool confirmed. "She's essentially part of this inn, so I suppose you could say she came from it. The 'Pot is a little more infused with the preternatural than most buildings little sister. The bar sprites are one example, as are the rooms. If it looks like rooms are growing sparse for housing guests, it will simply grow a few more."

Lina raised both her eyebrows and stared at Loo who widened her own eyes in answer. "Estrafalario," she muttered.

"To say the least," Façade said with a wry snort. "Now, what would you like to drink? I guarantee that whatever you want they'll have it."

"No doubt they will," Lina remarked, smoothing her dark hair back down as she spoke. "Something light then. Cerveza, por favor."

"Sangria," Façade added as Loo glanced his way. "Well chilled if possible. It's been a long journey."

Loo gave an affirming chirrup and disappeared. Resting her chin on one hand Lina grinned over at her brother. "How do you know she's not about to filch that coin you gave her, hermano?"

"I should think because she's spellbound and honour bound not to," Façade returned, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. "You think too much sometimes, hermana. What would an elemental do with hard coin?"

"Have her fortune told?" Lina suggested. Leaning over she nudged her brother with her elbow, widening her eyes innocently. "Cross me palm with silver laddie and I'll tell you a fortune that'll make your head spin with joy!"

"Don't you dare," Façade said, holding up a warning finger.

Lina smiled at him, leaning back in her seat. "As you wish big brother. This is your Festival after all."

“Master Façade??”

The Fool turned to look at the man who had spoken, giving a slight nod of his head to indicate that he was.

“I am Natan son of Eron the Rohirrim and Nathira the Elf, Rider of the Riddermark and half elven. I did not have the opportunity to make your acquaintance the last festival.” So saying the man slid into the chair beside the Fool.

"I had no idea I was so memorable," Façade remarked, studying the man before him. He was uncertain whether or not he had seen him before. The elf in him was just visible, a slight point to the ears, a delicacy of posture. "Well, greetings and well met my friend. It is always good to meet a new member." Leaning back in his seat he gestured to Lina with one hand. "This is my sister, Lina. Not a bard as such, but I requested her company today. It has been a while since I returned here." He refrained from mentioning why. Though he smiled pleasantly, his face showing no outward signs of distress it pained him to even allude to the Scribe and their recent and still unbearably harsh parting.

"Saludos," Lina grinned, waving her fingers at the bard. The gold bracelets on her wrist clinked with the movement. "We were just about to have a drink. Care to join us?"

With a barely audible 'pop' Loo re-emerged, placing Lina's light Haradrim beer and the Fool's dark sangria in front of them. With a small twitter she disappeared, leaving Lina to blink once then shake her head. "Estrafalario…"

Façade hid his amusement in his wineglass, taking a slight sip before turning once more to Natan. "As my sister said, you are welcome to join us, Natan of the Riddermark and Eldalië. How long have you been a member of our most illustrious Guild?"
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Postby Hidden_Ring » Thu Apr 28, 2005 9:23 pm

Orion watches as Edana enters through the double doors marked with a crecant moon and settles at a table. The white blond Elf looks at her, smiling faintly as the songhouse starts blossoming flowers to aid the decorations: white and purple violets amid the floor, English ivy along the beams of the walls and even clusters of daffodils on the tables. Despite no words pass between them, Orion figures their silent thoughts center on the same person.

The doors creaked open again and a dark skinned Easterling walks in from the door to the stables, rainwater occasionally dripping from his travelling cloak. With the damp garment still gracing his shoulders, Jiyadan came forwards to greet the white-blond Elf.
"It is good to see you again. Forgive me for missing your wedding, but congratulations to you. A wife is the best thing that can happen to a man.. or an elf."

Thank you. It IS wonderful, having someone close when you wander the lands, but for now we are on separate roads. Over 2000 years of habit tends to leave you set in your ways, wouldn't you agree? But no, you are pardoned, on my part, for your absence. The lands are vast and as Master Gamgee said "one can't be everywhere at once." But tell me, what brings you back here?

From the corner of his eye, Orion watches Cerridwen descending the stairs to take a chair among the verdant, but still quiet tables. It struck the Elf that he needed to apologise for the last time he spoke to her...he HAD been a tad harsh. Before he could excuse himself, Edana glided over, bowing in greeting. "Greetings, my dear Orion, I hope Aerin is doing well and will be joining us. May I join you and be introduced to your companion here?"

You are certainly welcome to join us. My companion here is Jiyadan, the Bard of the Southern Sands. As I recall, he and I first performed at another wedding, a few years ago.We were discussing the delights of marriage. As for Aerin, well she promised that she would show up for a little while at least, but that she too would be wandering during this time.

"I'm sorry I've not gotten to really know you. I've been a bit scarse around the Guild and Champerpot of recent. May I ask how your travels have been?" Edana's voice perked up, as well as her ears, with the idea of more stories and tales. Interestingly enough, I had just asked him the same question.
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Postby Jiyadan » Thu Apr 28, 2005 11:20 pm

"But tell me, what brings you back here?"

Jiyadan scratched his chin a moment. "I could hardly say. A tickle in my ears, perhaps. I know of the oddities that this place is known for and while I shy from sorcery and other strange things, I could swear that the place called me back."

Orion seemed to nod in not only understanding but agreement. However they were joined at that moment by another. He turned at the introduction, taking the woman's hand and raising to his lips as he bowed. "It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you, Lady Edana."

He gave a chuckle as his 'adventures' seemed to be foremost on the list of questions. "I shall tell you both over a drink. That is our tradition, is it not?" Turning to the bar he flipped several coins into the air that landed on the materialized hand of Flush.

"Greetings, good spirited sir. I wish to purchase whatever my companions may desire and a mug of peach cider for myself if you please."

Settling himself against the bar he turned his eyes, fairly smiling with joy, back to the two. "Now, my travels... have been less exciting than you may think. I have not had any great adventures, but rather a time of meditation and restoration.

"I have spent many months in the hills in solitude, seeking guidance and peace, to now return ready to enjoy time with many an acquaintances, new and old alike."

He turned as the spirit reappeared over his shoulder, delivering the three drinks. "My most humble thanks," Jiyadan said with a slight bow, picking up his peach cider and taking a long drink to soothe the dust and weariness of the road.
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Postby LadyEdana » Fri Apr 29, 2005 8:15 am

Edana smiled and Jiyadan was introduced to her by Orion. You are certainly welcome to join us. My companion here is Jiyadan, the Bard of the Southern Sands. As I recall, he and I first performed at another wedding, a few years ago.We were discussing the delights of marriage. As for Aerin, well she promised that she would show up for a little while at least, but that she too would be wandering during this time.

Tis a shame, I don't get to see her very often. I hope she will be able to stop in.

Jiyadan turned to Edana and kissed her hand softly in the form a of a true gentleman. It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you, Lady Edana.

Edana blushed and smiled warmly. I must say it is always a pleasure to meet a man who knows how to treat a lady. But please, we are all close here, just call me Edana.

Edana listened as her began his tale of travels and ordered a light drink. Thinking that anyone who could take being in solitude for so long was wise, and strong, if they hadn't turned daft from speaking only to themselves for so long. Yes solitude is often nessesary to find where you are going. But that doesn't mean it makes for boring tales. She sipped lightly on her drink and continued to listen.
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Postby Dubatuluk » Fri Apr 29, 2005 9:28 am

Dubatuluk took more interest as more people came arrived at the inn. Seeing other people of different races always interested her. Elves made up most of the lot. Although she saw the Gypsies at the bar, and Natan, of course, was always an interest to her when she saw him. She had seen Lady Edana here and there, but had never really met her.

The people were an interest, but the place she was in took precedence at the moment. The Pot had always impressed her. She had seen many wonderous places and many not-so-wonderous places, but the Pot beat them all out. Whilst it seemed just a crude inn, it was really a being itself. It was alive with feeling, and memories, and bar sprites (to say the least) and it never felt like a bad place to be.

Her own alliances with Minas Morgul gave her power and powerful friends, but she did not like it well. The Tower itself was a dead, lonely place to be in, and the people she knew there were less than not friendly. She rather liked being away from it, and the Pot was the perfect place to be for such an outing.


Her pipe went out as she sat there thinking, and she cursed lightly under her breath for it. She had, many times, considered getting a bigger one. And, many times had thought better of it, for a large pipe is harder to carry, and draws more attention than one wants for herself.

Emptying her pipe, and tucking it away, she stood up and wandered over towards the bar to get a drink. All conversation became quiet as she did this, for she was known for not being very socialable; which, in this case was understandable, for not many decent people liked socialising with the likes of her.

Dubatuluk sat down at the bar, which, had she been her old self, she would have towered over, even when sitting. As it was, she was rather stooped, and if she did not do her best to sit up straighter, her face would be fairly over the other side of the bar. She reached out a knarled hand, and a coin was produced for an excited sprite (which one she did not know, as she had never become aquainted with any of them.)


Bjiralak, please... she said to the sprite, who cocked her head questioningly.

Coffee. With a chirrup of understanding, the sprite took off, and was back with a large, steaming cup.

Thank you.

She looked to her right and found the conversation had stopped at her arrival. She understood, since she did not know many of the people there, but wished nothing ill, and so, voiced it.

Please, sirs, and madame, continue. Do not stop on account of me, I understand I take a while to get used to. I am Dubatuluk, of Mirkwood daughter of the very late King Treeagan.
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Postby Ulugz » Fri Apr 29, 2005 11:17 am

A pale, gray haired woman was herded into the room by Ûlugz and her trio of wargs. An expression of near panic widened her bespectacled eyes at the sight of the assembled bards. Her frantic attempt to escape into the shadows by the doorway was immediately foiled by the ax-bearing red-haired dwarfess on her left. To her right an impossibly tall, tattooed orc rested his elbows with seeming nonchalance on the shoulders of the near-full grown black junior warg, the Uruk's one remaining eye watching the human closely.
Dressed simply in black trousers and shirt the woman was of indeterminate middle age. Laugh lines creased the corners of her eyes and mouth deeply, hinting at a usually humorous nature. Strangely she seemed more frightened of the company before her than of the orcs and wargs surrounding her.

“Ah, ahem. Excuse me” Her soft murmur would have been impossible to hear, if all conversation had not stopped at the sight of the giant wolves at the wide double doors.
"Er, you don’t really know me, but it, um, seems that my rather bellicose creations have demanded my participation here. Ûlugz and Herutha have no experience in matters of love, and Amaröq over there, can’t converse on anything close to the subject without violating TOS. I hope you don’t mind them dragging me from real life to join you all briefly…”
OOC :| So I arrive in person. Now I gotta finish this @!!*##! poem! I swear I'm as bad as Ûlugz herself!:roll: :wink:
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Postby Frelga » Fri Apr 29, 2005 11:41 pm

The call came as Frelga returned from an evening ride with her husband. The Bards were being summoned back to the 'Pot. She wasn't sure how she knew that, and she wasn't sure if she would go.

As she unsaddled her mare in a stall next to her husband's gelding, Frelga fretted over the question. Aloud, she worried over the summer's chores; quietly she was reluctant to leave her husband. They only had a few months together since Gylfa's eored returned, and Frelga still felt that if she could not reach out and touch him, she was too far away from him. So she went on about training the green colts, the chance of drought and the choice of the summer pastures.

Gylfa didn't reply and, she suspected, didn't listen. At last they both emerged from the stables, Frelga twisting her braid in her fingers and Gylfa stroking his moustache.

"I don't like you traveling alone," the Rider said.

Frelga had almost decided not to go when Gylfa spoke, but her heart fell at his words. She really did want to go back to that crazy, enchanted place. She turned to her husband. Gylfa's face was carefully impassive, but Frelga detected a hint of smile in the fond look he gave her. It took a moment to sink in. Then, with a girlish squeal, Frelga threw her arms about her husband's neck.

***

"I better warn you, there's an Orc Bard," Frelga teased her husband as the family rode up to Splintered Chamberpot, with Lufu's pony plodding between the horses of his parents.

"An Orc? And what else?" Gylfa seemed unperturbed, which meant he did not believe her.

"A dragon. Two, if Cerri is coming. That's Cerridwen, the gypsy girl I told you about."

"Mom, will Façade be there? " Lufu asked for the hundredth time.

"I don't know, my sweet," Frelga replied, as she had done ninety-nine times before. Turning to her husband, she added, "I hope he didn't make drinking a habit. Such a fool thing to do, and over what?"

Gylfa didn't reply at once and his wife was surprised to see him frown, deep in thought. This was not the first time he heard the story of the Bard trying to drown his heartbreak in spirit, but he never made his judgment aloud. At last he spoke, "Frelga, remember when I asked you to marry me? I'm glad you didn't refuse me." He shook his head. "A fool thing it is, but do not judge the man too harshly."

And that kept Frelga quiet all the way to the stables and until the family walked into the inn.
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Postby Ulugz » Sun May 01, 2005 12:09 pm

As soon as the quiet woman was settled at a table with quill, paper, and ink, Ûlugz and Amaröq headed for the bar. The Gray One curled up on the floor next to the goblin bard, while Nightfang and Moonshadow, the two younger wargs, disappeared down the stairs to explore the vast and mysterious cellars below. Having never been in the bardic tavern before Amaröq’s one green eye roved from the two fleets of ships sailing on the ceiling, to the living tapestry on the wall, to the ghostly bar-sprites, in astonished curisoty, as he followed the bandy legged little warg rider’s lead.

Ever practical, Herutha kept close to her balky writer, merely holding up a coin to instantly summon Loo to the table.

“Bjiralak, please“ said a stooped and scarred patron to one of the semi-transparent bartenders, and a steaming mug of delicious smelling coffee was promptly delivered. Taking his cue from this, the tattooed Uruk folded his tall frame onto the next stool and requested a mug of glög from the empty air. The coin vanished from his outstretched fingers and another steaming mug appeared on the counter. The odors of orange, cinnamon and rum mingled with that of the coffee as he took an appreciative sip.

OOC: drat gotta go, more later... :x
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Postby PatriotBlade » Sun May 01, 2005 1:05 pm

Heather appeared on the stairs, Beryl on her hip, both dressed in sringtime blue cotton with green sashes about their waists and the same green hued ribbons in their dark curls. As her gaze swept the room, the healer spotted a familier face. Not one she knew so well, but whom she wished to speak with. She made her way down the stairs and through the crowd to where Jiyadan was talking with a couple other bards.
"I'm so sorry, but if I could inturupt for just a moment?"
Orion and Edana nodded.
"My name is Heather and unless I am mistaken, you are Jiyadan."
The man looked startled for a minute, then nodded.
"The last festval you attended, a young woman left with you, a friend of mine by the name of Cian. I was wandering about her welfare, since I didn't see her about."
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Postby Jiyadan » Sun May 01, 2005 5:13 pm

Jiyadan smiled at Edana's words. "Yes solitude is often nessesary to find where you are going. But that doesn't mean it makes for boring tales."

"Indeed, you are right. Though in this case I'm afraid it does very much make for a boring tale." Jiyadan chuckled and sipped at his cider when another bard approached, one he had not met before. "Please, sirs, and madame, continue. Do not stop on account of me, I understand I take a while to get used to. I am Dubatuluk, of Mirkwood daughter of the very late King Treeagan. "

"It is a pleasure," he said, taking the woman's hand and kissing it softly. "My name is Jiyadan, and I name Harad as my homeland though not of my birth. But please, we did not stop on your account, far from it. I merely ran out of interesting things to say concerning myself." He grinned broadly. "Allow me to introduce my companions, the Lady Edana, and this good gentleman here is Orion."

"I'm so sorry, but if I could inturupt for just a moment?"

Jiyadan turned at the voice that had come from behind.

"My name is Heather and unless I am mistaken, you are Jiyadan. The last festval you attended, a young woman left with you, a friend of mine by the name of Cian. I was wandering about her welfare, since I didn't see her about."

Jiyadan pardoned himself from the others, stepping a little to the side to speak more privately with Heather. "Yes, I remember you though we had not properly met. I am indeed Jiyadan, and I will tell you what I know of how your friend fared once we left here."

He took another drink of his cider then began. "She asked to leave with me after that festival, and I obliged for I feel it is always best for women to travel with protection through the darker areas of Middle-earth. I was headed for the White City, for I had friends there and said I would see her safely as far as the city.

"When we arrived, I introduced her to my friend but then had to take my leave for other duties became pressing. Last I have heard she was well and well taken care of, having stayed with my friend in Minas Tirith. What more news there is of her I can not say but I have no reason to think that any ill has befallen her."
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Sun May 01, 2005 5:53 pm

Tasar glanced around hesitantly as she entered the famed ‘Pot. It was with relief that she noted some familiar faces, though she had not officially met most of them. However, the atmosphere was unnaturally subdued, at least, from her experience at the last Festival it seemed so. It was completely understandable however. She had heard of the departure of the beloved Master Erinhue. The theme of this Festival was in honor of him, but she had been unable to find the words to frame a proper poem for him. So it was she came, empty-handed save for her presence, and her flute.

Stepping fully inside, she was surprised to see not only Ûlugz, but two other Orcs as well, not to mention what she assumed must be a Warg laying upon the floor at Ûlugz’s feet. Everyone appeared to be at ease in their presence though, so they must not present any danger.

Her blue eyes continued their observation of the room, catching sight of Natan at the bar with a blonde haired man and a dark lady. She recognized the blonde as Façade, the man who had danced so brilliantly at the last festival with the gypsy lady. Tasar bit her lip a little, debating joining them. She had enjoyed speaking with Natan before, and looked forward to renewing their acquaintance, but just now she decided she would make the attempt to get to know someone else.

Her gaze alighted upon the only figure in the room without any company, and she recognized with surprise Façade’s dance partner. This would not do, such a magnificent dancer ought not be sitting alone. Besides, it would be a wonderful opportunity to satisfy the curiosity which had been sparked by the event at the last Festival.

Skirts swishing, Tasar moved toward the table, removing her satchel from her shoulder, in preparation for sitting.

“I beg your pardon,” she said smiling, “I don’t believe we’ve officially met yet. Of course, I’m still very new to the Guild, so that is not surprising. I am Tasar. Might I join you?”
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Postby LadyEdana » Sun May 01, 2005 8:32 pm

Indeed, you are right. Though in this case I'm afraid it does very much make for a boring tale. Jiyadan chuckled and sipped at his cider when another bard approached, one he had not met before.

Please, sirs, and madame, continue. Do not stop on account of me, I understand I take a while to get used to. I am Dubatuluk, of Mirkwood daughter of the very late King Treeagan. Duba said getting her drink.

Just as Edana was going to tell him she was sure there was some thing interesting, the only question would be if it was a nature to be shared, a bard named Heather approached asking to have a word with Jiyadan. Edana nodded and went back to sipping on her drink when an idea hit her. There seemed to be a fair enough gather to start with presentations, and surely Agarak shouldn't get all the fun.

Edana turned to Orion and asked him if it would be ok for her to present on of her songs. When he nodded slightly she went and picked her harp up off the table where she had set it and approached the stage bowing and asking leave of Agarak. She sat on the stool on the stage and tuned her Celtic Harp, Calantha, lovingly.

The first chords rang out in beautiful harmony, a slight change from the dischordant, mournful song of Agarak. A few measures later Edana's lyrical voice joined that of the harp.


My Fortress And My Strength

My fortress and my strength
My comfort in all the pain
For you are my guiding star
To know not all is vain

Your arms hold me close
And nothing else matters
My gypsie to bring joy
When my world's in tatters

Through the hidden valley
your love it shows the way
Promise me you will not leave
Always by me you will stay

Bring a smile to my face
Love me, care for me steadily
And always your's I'll be
Always to be there readily

Edana took a breath and slowly got up too let the next person take their turn, returning to the table with Orion and Jiyadan.
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Postby Dubatuluk » Sun May 01, 2005 11:10 pm

Dubatuluk bowed slightly as Jiyadan introduced himself and his companions, and sipped her coffee. As Jiyadan's attention was caught by someone else, she noticed Lady Edana get up and go to the stage at the back wall, take out a harp and tune it. And, as Edana began to sing, Dubatuluk was lulled by the lovely, yet melancholy, although not as sad as Agarak's song. She applauded with the rest after Edana was through, and, as no one else seemed to be volunteering, she got up and freed her flute from it's leather bindings.

She slouched to the stage, and warmed up with long scales and arpeggios, then began a floating, lilting tune, neither happy nor sad, interspersed by verses which she sang:


Through tough winds cold,
And thick mists grey,
Bright sun shall scold
On Dancing Day,

And all who weep
Through darkness grim
In dream-wracked sleep
Shall comfort Him.

Him that brought
The bright sea-fair,
And all His thought
That through the air

Broke the silence
In the vastest place,
That sung no violence
And showed his face

To a world of no care
And breathing kind,
Where angels to fare,
And speak His mind,

Were set to build
A place for us,
A powerful guild
Not turned to lust,

But, to sing us in
To existance near,
That we should win,
Without any fear,

That He would be gloried,
In bright halls to shine,
The Steward of Morning,
And maker of Time.
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Postby PatriotBlade » Mon May 02, 2005 4:56 pm

"Thank you, Jiyadan. This is a great relief to know."
She curtsied and excused herself from his knot of friends to find a seat. Beryl was far too restless, so she let the little one down. Since the last festival she had grown and was now toddling uneasily across the floor to greet Frelga as she entered with her beloved and little Lufu.
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Postby Nicasam » Tue May 03, 2005 1:41 pm

OOC: Hope this is alright.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Façade hid his amusement in his wineglass, taking a slight sip before turning once more to Natan. "As my sister said, you are welcome to join us, Natan of the Riddermark and Eldalië. How long have you been a member of our most illustrious Guild?"

Natan sat down to the invitation and asked the pixie for a drink.

"Just nigh of two months now, I joined after hearing of the guild from Master Parm, who has agreed to take me on as his apprentice. Although I have not seen him for some time."

Facade sat and listened as Natan spoke he could see the boyish eagerness still in the young man's eyes.

"No that is true he has not been to the 'Pot for some time. He likes to roam more so than most of our other bards."

Natan chuckled and thanked the pixie as it brought his beer.

"Yes that does seem to be true of Master Parm. But what of you and your sister? She does not seem to resemble you?? Is there are reason for that?? Forgive me if I am to bold in asking."
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Postby The_Fool » Wed May 04, 2005 12:13 am

OOC: Nicasam, 'tis quite alright :D It gave my muse a chance to be as verbose as is its usual want which is all I could possibly ask for. Muchas gracias :wink:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Yes that does seem to be true of Master Parm. But what of you and your sister? She does not seem to resemble you?? Is there are reason for that?? Forgive me if I am to bold in asking."

Lina laughed at the question, leaning forward on the bar to grin at Natan. "Sí," she replied. "We are not alike. Because when he was a boy he wouldn't stay out of the shade. You see? His skin is all pale because of it. He was un champiñón pequeño."

At this revelation Façade almost choked on his drink, laughing. "Don't listen to her," Façade gasped upon recovery, waving a hand at Lina in a dismissive fashion. "She's intent on calling me by as many vegetable-based namesakes as possible today."

"She is?" Natan replied, glancing over the bar at Lina. "What did she call you?"

"A little mushroom," Lina replied sweetly. "But he is little no more hmm? Now he is El Estaca. The Beanpole."

"As I said," Façade grinned, "don't listen to her."

"You be careful, hermano," Lina warned, wagging her beer bottle at her brother. "You're starting to smile." In truth she was pleased to see him thus. Though at present his good moods were followed by moments of pure melancholy she hoped it could be avoided this time. With so many around it was a stronger hope than many.

"Ah but let me give you a proper explanation," Façade said, nodding in Natan's direction. "We do not look alike because we are not related by blood. She is my sister because her father took me in early on in my own life. So I grew up with her, after a fashion. So now she is my little sister, and my dearest of siblings, even if she is un idiota."

"Ai!" Lina protested, taping Façade across the top of his head with the flat of her palm. "¿El idiota? Yo le daré 'idiota' usted maldice el tonto."*

"I love you too, hermana," the Fool teased. Raising his wineglass to his mouth he took a long sip, pleased by the chill flavour of the sweet, iced wine.

"AI!" Lina yelped quite suddenly, swearing viciously in Haradic and almost leaping from her seat as Ûlugz and Amaröq appeared further down the bar. "Orcs too? Ai, ai, ai! Muy malvado Estaca. They belong here?"

"Hush," Façade reached out to lay a calming hand on Lina's arm, leaning over to speak low in her ear. "They are members of the Guild. You have nothing to fear from them. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. Now please, stop cursing like that. You're worse than a soldier. There are children here who live in respectable homes."

"Are you saying I wasn't brought up in a respectable home?" Lina teased.

Façade made an intentionally comical warning face, raising both eyebrows and pursing his lips as he held up one finger. "Mírelo."*

"Sí, Estaca." Lina gave a brief smile then took a quick draught of her beer, turning in her seat to rest her elbows and back against the bar top, eyes glancing out over the vast hall before her. Her gaze drifted over the bards gathered, pausing to rest on the stage as a few took to its raised surface. The songs they sung were perhaps a little different to the music she was used to, but pleasant nonetheless, and she tapped her foot unconsciously against the barstool to keep time in her usual gypsy fashion.

"Will you be performing today?" Façade asked Natan, turning his head to the young man. "How are your ambitions Master Natan? Do you wish to climb the rungs of Bardic prestige as quickly as you most possibly can or are you content with a more subdued pace?"

As Façade spoke with the young bard Lina continued her lazy observations from her perch against the bar. A great number of the bards had congregated around a particular table and she was surprised to see a man dressed in Haradrim garb amongst them. Raising her eyebrows in modest surprise she made a note to ask her brother about him, and whether or not he could possibly be the owner of the Haradic stallion in the stables. Another bard had begun to sing and curious she glanced back to the stage to watch their performance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

* Idiot? I'll give you 'idiot' you damn fool.
* Watch it.
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Postby Ulugz » Wed May 04, 2005 5:09 pm

Ûlugz had barely finished applauding Lady Edna’s performance when the orcish looking female from the Mirkwood took the stage.
“Dubatuluk, eh?” Amaröq whispered, nearly jabbing the little warg rider with a spike implanted elbow.
“Add an ‘r’ and you’ve got Nazgul-speak for ‘ruler of all’. She may be from the Mirkwood, but I’ll wager she’s spent some time in the Shadowed Vale. Could be that’s where she got all those attractive scars..”

“Hush!” Ûlugz hissed looking up at the giant half orc, nearly twice her height.
“This is a bard’s festival. Bards don’t care who you are or where you came from. I mean, they accepted me without any questions. So don’t embarrass me by making a scene, you overgrown Baalak*.”

“Aw, stuff it runt.” the taller orc replied amiably, applauding Dubatuluk’s performance enthusiastically.

A pair of familiar faces caught Ûlugz’s attention.
“Lufu! Hey! Over here” she bellowed. "Ya-Hey, I finally returned the plumed quill from the wedding like ya tol me to! Har! Lemme git ya some cocoa eh.”

“An I’m not supposed to make a scene, yeah right.” Amaröq muttered in annoyance.



*halfbreed
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Postby Frelga » Wed May 04, 2005 10:36 pm

As she stepped through the doors, Frelga forgot all about Fools and their troubles. The inn, which seemed so intimidating less than a year ago, now felt like second home. Lufu, too, walked in like he owned the place. Gylfa paused in the doorway, taking in the motley assembly - an Elf talking to a Southron, the orc-looking woman on stage, and over at the bar...

Both Rohirrim froze where they stood. A huge gray warg sprawled on the floor by the bar chairs. Over him, Ûlugz sat with a tall, tattooed orc. And next to them - Frelga rubbed at her eyes and tried looking again - a Writer!

"You told me this was a crazy place," Gylfa muttered to his wife. "I should have believed you."

Next moment Frelga was distracted by a charming green-eyed toddler who tottered towards them, chubby fists lifted to her shoulders for balance.

"Beryl!" Frelga exclaimed. "Look at you walking all by yourself. And where's your mommy?"

Lufu gave the little girl a gingerly hug, as if she was as fragile as a fresh daisy. Then Gylfa scooped Beryl up, settling her high on his shoulder, where she dug all ten fingers into his dark-blond hair and giggled happily.

Heather followed her daughter to join the Rohirrim. The two women embraced, exchanging exclamations over how the children have grown and how well they all looked. In the joyful confusion, it took Frelga a moment to remember her manners enough to introduce her husband.

“Lufu! Hey! Over here” Ûlugz bellowed. "Ya-Hey, I finally returned the plumed quill from the wedding like ya tol me to! Har! Lemme git ya some cocoa eh.”

Lufu skipped away to greet the little orc. Frelga grabbed Gylfa's arm to stop him from following, and rushed after Lufu herself, leaving her husband with Beryl and Heather. She felt that the Rider needed a bit more time before he was ready to join two orcs for a friendly drink.

"Hail, Ûlugz! Will you play the drums today? You are really good with the drums." Lufu climbed on a bar stool next to the little orc. Frelga suspected that he was just showing off before his father, but at least the boy was polite. "Mom, can I have that cocoa?"

"Yes, you may, Lufu. Ûlugz, I'm glad to see you again," said Frelga looking from the orc to her writer.

Lufu thanked the orc, took a large sip and turned to Amaroq. "Is that an eagle's talon in your eyebrow? Doesn't it hurt to have it there? "

Frelga decided not to interrupt her son. In all fairness, if she could cope with two orcs and a warg, the two orcs could deal with one little boy. Instead, she ordered a round of drinks for everyone, including the Writer and the dwarf woman.

Looking around, Frelga caught a flash of blond hair and moved quickly to block Lufu's view of Façade, sitting with one of the new Bards and a dark-haired woman. A man's pride was a fragile thing, and Frelga had seen Façade at his most vulnerable. She wasn't sure he'd want to speak to her again.
------
OOC: If I messed up somebody's position, feel free to correct me. I am slightly scatterbrained right now, what with chasing the Muse all over the house and all. :)
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Postby Ulugz » Thu May 05, 2005 11:05 am

"Hail, Ûlugz! Will you play the drums today? You are really good with the drums." Lufu climbed on a bar stool next to the little orc, whose toothy grin as she nodded, was still unnerving even if it was no longer frightening.

"Mom, can I have that cocoa?"

"Yes, you may, Lufu. Ûlugz, I'm glad to see you again," said Frelga looking from the orc to her writer.

“Nice t’see ya again too Mrs. Frelga. This here’s Amaröq, he’s mad as a March hare, and has the manners of a cave troll, but is a good enuf feller otherwise. The redhead there worrying over not having a beard yet is Herutha, and the gal with her calls herself Cheryl, funny name..., careful tho’ I think she’s really cracked.”

The woman, Cheryl, tugged on her long and unruly gray and silver streaked hair, muttering as she alternately sucked on the end of a quill, and scratched at a piece of parchment on the table. Frelga could barely hear her seeming incoherent babble.
“Mountains stretching to the sun… no,… reach to catch the golden… eugh!…Oh look it’s really…, no… must not interact. I’m not real here…can’t be. How about dawn’s golden…hmmm….”

Shaking her head, Frelga ordered a round of drinks for everyone, including the dwarf woman, and the Writer who, of all people, looked as though she could use one.

Lufu thanked the orc, took a large sip of the rich chocolate, and turned to Amaröq. "Is that an eagle's talon in your eyebrow? Doesn't it hurt to have it there? "

“Ho! This little bite’s a bold one” the tattooed giant laughed
“Well m’young Tark, it hurt like…, Hey! Watch the shins runt!” Ûlugz glared up at the larger orc, who snorted in annoyance and started again.

“Well, it hurt quite a bit when the eagle put it there. Lost m’bright shiny t’the dratted bird, but it’s doin’ it’s landings one-footed. Can’t say as it was a fair trade tho.... But, as I was sayin’, All the stuff as gets poked through yer skin hurts a bit at first, but don’t once’t heals up a bit. The ink actually hurt worse, 'cause it takes longer ya know.”

Lufu squinted at the swirls of color covering most of the orc’s brownish skin.
“How does ink hurt?” he asked skeptically “When I spilled ink on myself it didn’t hurt at all. It was just messy and wet.”

“Har!, naw little Hay-top, the ink gets jabbed into the skin with needle-thorns so’s it never comes off. Lookee here, thisun’s new.“ He held out a long ropy-muscled arm, to show off a freshly scabbed pattern of spirals, that resolved themselves into a warg attacking an elk, to the fascinated boy
“Hey ‘Lugz! Where’d ya find this little Tark? He’s a real treat!”

“His name is Bilufien.” the little warg-rider grumbled, completely upstaged by the larger, more colorful orc, “And don’t call him a Tark, it’s rude.”


OOC: Not to worry Frelga, I know how you feel. My muse keeps curling up under the table with the cat. If I have to kick her awake one more time, I'm liable to fracture a toe :P
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Postby Jiyadan » Fri May 06, 2005 9:45 am

Jiyadan bowed slightly as Heather left. He was glad to see the child doing well here in the west. She would escape the troubles that many such youth faced in Rhûn and that he himself was all too familiar with.

With a sad smile, he turned away from the child and back to the others he had left a few moments ago, catching the last of Lady Edana's performance.

He clapped loudly as she concluded along with many other bards and waited for her to return. "That was a truly magnificent performance," he said when she was seated again. "Master Erinhue would be proud."

Turning his attention then back to the stage to listen to the newly-met bard Dubatuluk. The performance filled with a sadness it seemed to him, and he sipped absently at his drink until the song was finished, clapping softly more for fear of dispursing the feelings her performance had created than for lack of enthusiasm at the performance itself.
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Postby Hidden_Ring » Sat May 07, 2005 9:21 am

Lifting a large flagon of mulled cherry wine from the tray carried by Flush, Orion salutes his table companions. The quiet conversation of ChamberPot seemed to weigh fairly heavy as the break between poems lengthened. The quartet's talk turned to solitude and the tales that could come from that.

Actually it was seeking solitude that I got pulled into a long quest. a few years ago, when the old Lucky Fortune went up like one of Mithrandir's fireworks. I rode off for the land of my parents, looking for nothing more than peace and quiet. Then, almost as soon as I get there, I discover someone I... The Elf's smile shifts, losing it's good-natured feel and becoming more predatory for a moment. ... missed had been near by and I just HAD to go see him. We had a chat and then parted ways while I found myself travelling south towards Rohan and enjoying the company of a young half-Uruk named Deore. Actually, I haven't seen her for a while, I hope she's doing ok.

While Jiyadan was distracted talking to Heather, Edana asked if it would be ok for her to present a poem. Certainly you can, that's why we gather here. She gathered her things and started to tune her own harp. Gentle tones ring out, making the sound of poetry more inviting. First, the voice of her harp alone, then her voice joins soft but strong and pleasant to listen to. As Edana finished, Dubatuluk stood to sing. The woman's voice rang clear through the building and the general feeling, both in the Bards and in Orion, seemed to lift a bit.

The loud voices of a couple visiting Orc made the white blond Elf smile as he watched them argue back and forth while talking with a young boy. In his mind, Orion nodded appreciatively. The Bards had been hurt but they were healing.


((OOC: Sorry if this doesn't seem to continue anything much, but combination of lack of inspiration and not wanting to fall too far behind in the RP-lite of the festival.))
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Hidden_Ring
Ranger of the North

 
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