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Author Topic: Kann Day I  (Read 15200 times)
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Mathis Mallister
Righteous in Wrath
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« Reply #105 on: June 27, 2009, 09:28:52 AM »

A restraining hand fell on Ruil's shoulder as the dwarf's staff began to wag about before his face. The little knight's learning everything but restraint, Mathis observed internally. He half desired to seize his brother and do a little eye-boring of his own. Instead he uttered "Vouchsafe, vouchsafer, vouchsafest, sir." hoping Ruil would catch his meaning. Perhaps he had found their man, but he had also alerted the entire tavern that they were interested in more than rest and refreshment - though after riding all night Mathis could certainly use both.

With worried eyes already darting between the brewmistress and the Mallisters (apprehension being further intensified by another party of men that entered behind them, making mere interrogation look like initiation of invasion) Mathis decided to press forward down the path Ruil had opened up to them. "I offer our unabashed and authentic apology. We bear absolutely no intention to cause trouble for the treasure of it, least of all to this establishment or the servers." He spoke only for himself there, he knew, but that was something the bearded woman would have no desire whatsoever to hear.

He was especially careful with his next words, taking this opportunity to make clear that the party that had entered behind them was not affiliated with the two brothers in any way. "My ... associate and I ride as representatives of the township of Courtford. If he was at all ... underhanded it was only to circumvent concerning your custom." Mathis lowered his voice, though not enough so those immediately adjacent would not overhear. "We are here to warn you that there may be a murderer in your midst. We intend only to ... protect your patrons, and apprehend the criminal."
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take an eye for an eye, turn your heart into stone
this is all I have lived for, this is all I have known
Fidget
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« Reply #106 on: June 28, 2009, 12:17:18 AM »

Fidget leans in to peer at the stone the girl held up. What was her name again? Lana, Leona, Laonna, hah that’s it , I think.

Hmm I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. Remarkable actually as I have seen quite a few gems doing… errr in my line of work. You said your father gave it to you? Mine gave me this one, well he had it and I took it. Seein’ as how he wanted little to do with me I needed something as a familial tie.” As he spoke he held up the eye between forefinger and thumb. Though  come to think of it Kel, my uhh mentor once told me about a ring that he had sto… found. The way he described it sounds similar to how this looks. He never did find out what it was, other than worth a few goldbards.”

After speaking he threaded the thong back through the amulets loop and stuck it in his pocket. Leaning back in his chair he once again took note of what was happening in the inn. The older looking of the two who had accosted the maid was now speaking in quiet but seemingly apologetic tones. Thinking that this crisis was at the least over for the moment he turned back to the group by the door. Seeing that they had not yet made any indication as to why they had arrived he looked back to Laonna.
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The I is lost in me, But I am ready to give you The M. It might even be the E.
As I begin to search for I, The I is lost in me."
               Anders Friden, In Flames

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Laonna
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« Reply #107 on: June 28, 2009, 07:18:00 AM »

Though  come to think of it Kel, my uhh mentor once told me about a ring that he had sto… found. The way he described it sounds similar to how this looks. 

Her heart jumped a beat. Maybe this is it... maybe I can find out why my father gave...

...never did find out what it was, other than worth a few goldbards.”

Her heart sank again. ....Or maybe not.
Disappointment sprang to her face but she hid it for the time being. She noticed his attention turn to the men, and then, seemingly satisfied, back to her.

She rested her cheek in her hand once again, feeling a little more relaxed. She offered a smile to Fidget. 

"Kel? That name sounds familiar.
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Our remedies oft in do ourselves lie...
William Shakespeare

Laonna
Hragnúr Pakthroon
Masked Brewmistress
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« Reply #108 on: June 29, 2009, 08:56:50 AM »

"We are here to warn you that there may be a murderer in your midst. We intend only to ... protect your patrons, and apprehend the criminal."

What! A murderer, in Tyr Donian? The dwarven community was almost always very peaceful. Dwarves tended to get along pretty well with each other, most of the time, and crime wasn't something that happened often. And if it did, it was often a petty stupidity by some foreigner. And so Hragnúr reacted to this statement with some confusion. Spluttering for a moment, she couldn't spit any words out. So she shut up for a second, but that didn't really help either. She tried to calmly formulate what she was going to do next, in response to all this. She finally managed a somewhat calm reply to the men standing in front of her, "Thank ya for the..the warnin'...I'll keep my eye out for things."

Her mind calmed a little, she relaxed. Then she thought a little more about what was just said to her. A. murderer. in. the. inn. Then she became very angry. How could someone like that dare to come into her tavern? That wasn't going to happen any day of the week, and she would see to that. With this squarely set in her mind, she tapped the man who had just spoken to her on the shoulder, "Beggin' yer pardon, but how will I know this man? And what proof do ya got of his murder? If I were you, I'd get one o' the dwarves in town ta send word to the clan-chieftan, and he'd root that no-good right out o' the Mithral Mountains!"

Oblivious to this little interaction was the gambler Pragnék. He had his eye on the prize, and he felt that he was within reaching distance of it being all his. With his newfound (though borrowed) wealth, he had gained new confidence. With deliberateness, he began to explain the game to the man sitting across from him. "Astragals...Astragals is the game we be playin', and it involves the rollin' o' dice, see. Two ankle bones of a sheep, marked on six sides, with six numbers. Let's ya roll two through twelve. Ya can use each number rolled separately, or add 'em together, up to you. The first person to roll each number, two through twelve, takes the pot. But, if ya happen to fail, and see the skull, then yer acid's mine, see." He laid the dice in front of the man. "Shall ya roll first?"
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If only a drink could truly wash away pasts and wipe away fears; maybe then life would be happy.

-Hragnúr Pakerim-Theroon
Morden Peshirgolz
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« Reply #109 on: June 29, 2009, 09:02:24 AM »

Morden sighed in satisfaction when the song was complete. Certainly, this had lightened him up quite a bit, and he fingered his baroomith fondly as he absently hummed the tune that continued to run through his head. This was exactly why he had found the Kann to be such a welcome place to stay. Here he was away from the troubles that had seemed to plague him so often, here he found an abundance of friends new and old, all good for sharing laughter and drinks. And what fine musicians had wandered into the tavern of their own accord! Morden wondered how they had come to learn to play, and in this spirit turned to the young hobbit who had played the lute, remembering the fair voice the hobbit had displayed during the impromptu performance. It was this voice that was beginning to give him doubts over his initial assessment of this "lad".

"That were a fine bit o' string work, and a very fine work o' singing, if I might say so...lad." Not wanting to offend, in the case that his surmise was entirely offbase, Morden continued addressing the hobbit the same way he had been before. "I was wonderin', how did ya learn to make music so nicely? Ya seems like ta enjoy a good song, have ya played long?" Morden thought of the many years of practice that he had invested in his playing. It was made worth it by the years he had now spent enjoying the instrument. Even with only one hand, he was still a good player, and he relished opportunities to play. In such a crowded environment, he was not always apt to performing, but the enthusiasm of the hobbits had swayed his normally reticent tendencies.



Weljan was the leader of a merchant band that was currently traveling through the coastline bordering the Mithral Mountains. He had stopped in Tyr Donian with his boys to do some trading, and that was where the trouble started. He was not particularly inclined to liking dwarves, but he also had a low estimate of their intelligence, leading him to the belief that he could get easy prices from them. Thus, when the dwarves had refused to sell their goods to him for the prices he had offered, he was quite angered. And when they refused to buy his goods, which they argued were of poor craftmanship, he was even more angered. This was some of the finest carpentry in the region, he claimed, how could they refuse? He knew that his claims weren't at all true, but again he had underestimated dwarven intellect. Now he had decided to try and get a measurement of what dwarven anger was like.

Galkhirril was the overseer and arbiter at the trading outpost of Tyr Donian. So naturally, when disputes about goods and prices came up with Weljan, he had been called to officiate. And so Weljan's anger had fallen mainly upon the old dwarf. Further, Weljan had decided that this morning's outburst had not gotten the point across, and so had come into this tavern while the sun was high, to work things out with Galkhirril. It was in a stormy mood that he left his seat, with the two men he had brought with him trailing just behind him, to face up to the dwarf once more. "Well, oldie, ya got anything you want ta say ta me?!? I think me and my men are owed some apology for your stubborn ways, what do you think?!?" Weljan then tried to explain to Galkhirril exactly what he should be thinking by laying a thick sweaty palm on his shoulder, grinning evilly.

Galkhirril looked up at him, and said with complete coolness and a deadpan even tone, "Would ya mind movin' yer hand, lad?" It appeared that trouble was going to brew, unless someone stepped in.
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Thorin Broadfist
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« Reply #110 on: June 29, 2009, 10:34:37 AM »

"Dwarf, you know its rude to stare." The rough Therigerim caught Thorin off guard. He muttered an apology, in Tharian, as he took a drink. His eyes wandered some as an older woman entered the tavern. When the thud of her falling brought his gaze back, Dek had already jumped over to help her. "A fine young lad that one is. A fine young lad...

It was then that Thorin noticed that Morden had gone over to the two musicians where he took a seat and pulled out his baroomith. His attention was again stolen by the opening of the door, this time for a young lady just in the prime of her life. As she strode over to the bar, another fiery headed man joined her. "Now where did he come from? And his hair... I never thought there where that the color of hair was common, but then the people in here already are far from common. Is that, music?"

The music consumed Thorin. He wasn't sure when it had started nor when it ended, but for the moment in between, it was all he was. Thorin barely noticed that Dek had begun to leap and tumble despite his injured leg and he took no notice of the man who had just come down the stairs nor the imposing men entering. When the music finally did end, a look sorrow took over Thorin's face.

Yet, when he saw three men bothering Galkhirril, he gulped down the last of his ale and rose from his table. "What in the Stonefather's name are they bothering him for!? Lousy thugs by the looks of it. Hmph." Glancing around the tavern once more, Thorin saw some men conversing with Hragnúr. "What did that one say? Curdelers? Bah, that can't be right." Thorin tapped the arm of who seemed to be the leader of the group. "Excuse me, but you may not want to anger him, he's feistier than he looks." Thorin hoped what he thought was a bluff would work. "Stonefather, please let them leave without starting trouble. Please..." Wishing he would see no more trouble, he waited to see how the man would respond.
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I am a blacksmith, nothing more, nothing less.
-Thorin Broadfist
Salkazrian
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« Reply #111 on: June 30, 2009, 12:12:59 AM »

   Entering the tavern, Salkazrian was surprised to see so many humans.  Of course, there were plenty of dwarves, too, but the human contingent of the room seemed unusually large; in more ways than one!

   “It feels good to be back underground,” she thought to herself with a slight smile.  It was somehow comforting to be surrounded by solid rock.

   For the past two weeks, the blond haired officer had been training a unit of Seyelites in the Mithral Mountains.  It had been fun, no doubt, but damned hard work, too!  Now that it was over, she felt like having some down time, and had taken the opportunity to visit the Mitharim Dwarves before heading home.

   “I’ll have an ale, and some doch nuts, too, if you’ve got any,” she said to the bartender as she leant against the counter.  Then, whilst she was waiting for her drink to arrive, she carefully surveyed the room in more detail.

   Nothing of much interest caught her eye, small groups of people and dwarves were deep in conversation, laughing and joking; drinking and eating.

   “Seems you’ve got good business here,” she said to the bartender when she returned with the ale and nuts.  “How much do I owe you?”

   After handing over the five sans due, Salkazrian approached an empty table by the fire.  It was in a good position for watching the goings on of the other patrons, and the fire’s warmth would do her aching bones good.

   “Yes, I’m definitely getting older!” she thought to herself as she sat down.  The past two weeks of sleeping in the wild had somehow seeped into her joints.  With an audible sigh, she stretched her legs in front of her, and arched her back slightly.  An unpleasant cracking noise came from her neck as she tilted it to either side.  “Ah, that’s better!”

   Feeling more relaxed now, and a lot warmer, Salkazrian eased her red tunic off, and draped it over the back of her chair.  The fire’s heat washed over her newly exposed skin, and it felt good!

   Taking the tankard of ale in hand, Salkazrian lifted it to her nose, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she did so.  The brew smelt good; a deep, earthy fragrance, with a nutty finish.

   “Here’s to the dwarves and their first-rate ale!” she toasted mentally.

   After taking a deep draught, she felt refreshed, and her taste buds tingled slightly, eager for more.
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In military strategy, as in life itself, timing is everything!

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Foraste Lydan
Traveling Compendiumist
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« Reply #112 on: June 30, 2009, 03:23:28 AM »

Foraste listened to the dwarf's explanation of the rules, Pragnék was definitely eager to win today. Astragals, he had played the game but never this variant. He picked up the dice and threw them quickly down onto the table. They rolled to a stop and displayed a five and a four.

Better get nine, Foraste thought, I may not get this chance again later. He spoke aloud,"I will add the two together and get nine." While waiting for Pragnék to roll he turned his gaze to the full tavern, a military officer walked in and sat down at the bar. The old dwarf was having some trouble with some traders.

Typical ignorant people, not worth being taught a lesson. If only people could look past preconceived notions. Foraste turned back to the table and gulped his ale.
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If you won't take my money, how about a write up?

Foraste Lydan
Deklitch Hardin
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« Reply #113 on: June 30, 2009, 06:25:23 AM »

"If you fall over from an injury, you'll have no chance to fall over from anything else, lad." one of the musicians said to Dek, and the boy gratefully took the stick offered.

"Thanks for that," Dek replied, "Can I get you something to drink? That song, took me back to my time with the Rovers."

Dek realised suddenly his money pouch was showing slightly, and with a muttered curse he got it from his pocket. He needed to be more careful with it ... and with this injury, who knew when he'd next be able to perform. He looked around the room, Dek hoped that trouble wasn't brewing ... but judging by those traders, it was.

Dek watched with mounting alarm as the merchants began to speak to one of the dwarves working here. Thorin, that dwarf was attempting to intervene, but it seemed as though no one else was doing anything about it, so Dek rose to his feet, and stood on the seat he had been sitting in, and then he began to chant in a loud voice,

"Hey, there! Hoop-la! The Rovers are in town!
Have you seen the actors? Have you seen the clown?
Have you seen the dancers leap without a single care?
Have you seen the gymnasts balance high up in the air?
Have you seen the juggler toss knives both up and down?
Hoop-la! Hoop-la! the Rovers are in town!
"
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Seeking the truth, whatever the cost! - Deklitch Hardin, Elf Friend
Sir Ruil Mallister
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« Reply #114 on: June 30, 2009, 02:34:35 PM »

Ruil’s frown deepened when the ale mistress had the audacity to wag her stick in his face.  The blonde knight was quite tempted to unhook his mace and smack the female dwarf across her face.  Fortunately for all parties, he refrained, despite his contempt for the dwarven peasant (much the same contempt he held for all peasants).  Instead, he merely brushed the thing from his face with the back of his hand.  That’s when his older brother placed his hand brusquely on his shoulder, interjecting with his own wisdom.

Vouchsafe, vouchsafer, vouchsafest.  The phrase echoed in Ruil’s head.  Right, of course, thought the younger Mallister.  He glanced around the room discreetly, taking note of the increasing tension in the room.  Whether it was wholly due to his brief (and not so discreet as he previously thought) interrogation of the dwarfess, or could also be attributed to the arrival of a small gang of petty thugs, he couldn’t say.  But the tension was there.  Ruil would have been glad to be armed and armored, but the ruffians seemed without arms themselves.  They’re insignificant, thought the man as he took another swig of his ale.  Not even worth the worry.

Mathis’s explanation of their current situation to the dwarfess before them clearly vexed her.  When her cane once again reached up, this time to his brother’s shoulder, Ruil set his fist on his hip.  He took another swig of the ale to keep from doing anything stupid.  After what happened in Mach a year ago, it was hard to keep from killing anyone who put anything near his or his kin’s throats.  Call me paranoid, reflected Ruil.  One town died that night.  And I am uncertain I wouldn’t do it again.

Ruil came back to the present right as the barkeep inquired of the murderer and proof thereof.  He glanced at Mathis, forcing an upcoming chuckle into more of his typical grimace.  “It would be quicker and quieter to do this on our own,” he replied to her.  “He shall not be escaping us…” He took a quick glance to the person the serving lass pointed out.  His tone brooked no argument.  “…provided our path remains unhindered and methods overlooked.”

Now he wished he hadn’t left his spear in the stall.  The current atmosphere of the tavern paralleled that of the one in Mach.  For a moment, Ruil was quite glad his friend had not followed him from the Truban province.  She won’t have her throat opened here, at least.  The thought did little to comfort him and so, with another brief glance to his brother, he folded his arms.  Hopefully, Mathis would pioneer the capture of their target with little incident.
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Galthas
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« Reply #115 on: July 01, 2009, 05:34:36 AM »

Galthas awoke from his daydream just as Pragnek finished explaining the rules of the game. He hadn't really been paying attention as he already knew the rules to the game. Ugh, he thought to himself while rubbing his beard, as he looked down at what his two gambling partners had bid. "Well, my friends," he began mournfully, "looks like 'ave been ou'bid. I'da be doin' ya a disrespect, puttin' up anything I got again' that." For he only had 58 sans left in his pouch and needed most of it to get back to his home. "Well, A'll leave ya ta yer game, then."

After leaving the two gamblers to their game, he arose with a grunt to discover there was a great tension filling the tavern. He muttered a silent curse and prayed to Trum-Baroll that this not be more than a petty argument. The large dwarf moved over to his own table to discover that his cat, Almond, had awoken and eaten what was left of his doch nuts. Smiling, he stroked her over the head a few times and picked up his pack, looking around for a good conversation partner. The only one who seemed not to be staring at the two militarymen talking to Hragnur was a human military officer sitting contentedly by the fire.

Galthas decided to engage this lone officer in conversation, so he moved over to the empty chair next to her and sat down heavily. "I'd like ta sit here if ya don' mind," he said heartily, looking at the woman's face. Her nose had been broken, he noticed, but she looked very bright. Good, thought a pleased Galthas, I knew that I'd picked a good partner for intellectual conversation, she looks... By Trum-Baroll!  Shocked, he had just discovered that the woman's left arm was missing from the elbow down. He looked quickly to the badges on her waistband, trying to hide the look of shock on his round face. "So," he managed to get out without his voice cracking, "what brings a dec'rated war hero like yerself out to Tyr Donian?"
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A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
       -Galthas Tavaria, Dwarven Healer
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Salkazrian
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« Reply #116 on: July 01, 2009, 02:28:55 PM »

   Feeling more at ease, the Seyelite officer took a closer look at what was going on inside the tavern.  She soon noticed a group of three men standing next to an elderly dwarf, and their body language told her that they were on edge, probably getting ready for a fight.  A second dwarf was apparently trying to resolve the problem, and Salkazrian hoped that nothing more would come of it.  Still, it wouldn’t take her long to get over there if things started to get ugly.

   Suddenly, a young boy jumped onto his chair and started shouting something about Rovers, jugglers, and clowns.  Was he drunk?  Or was he just plain crazy?

   “I'd like ta sit here if ya don' mind.”

   A large, rotund dwarf interrupted her thoughts.

   “Please, be my guest,” she replied as the newcomer sank into the chair opposite her.

   It didn’t take him long to notice her missing arm, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly at his reaction.  It was nothing new, though, and Salkazrian carried on the conversation without making reference to it.

   “Curiosity, I suppose,” she answered, “I’ve wanted to come here for a while, but only just got the opportunity to do so.  And after spending the past fourteen moons in the mountains, this ale and this fire are most welcome!   Here, have some doch nuts.”

   Salkazrian pushed the dish of nuts into the centre of the table, so that her new companion could more easily reach them.

   “But how about yourself; you’re a local, I take it?”
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In military strategy, as in life itself, timing is everything!

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Galthas
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« Reply #117 on: July 02, 2009, 01:22:04 AM »

Galthas got over the shock of the officer's missing arm when she answered his question casually. He was immensely releived that she hadn't taken offense to his facial reaction that he couldn't hide.

"I guess ya could say that," he began, taking one of the doch nuts the woman had offered him, "Ahm from a li'l village up in tha Mithrals."

The large dwarf was truly very grateful for the nuts he had been offered, for he had wanted to order some food. Because of the stressful situation with the cook, however, he had decided it better not to interrupt the conversation she was having with the militarymen.

"Thank ya very much fer the nuts." He thought about what she had said as a response to his question. A human officer in the Mithral Mountains, the dwarf pondered as he ate his nut, that's very odd. "What army ya with?" he asked when his curiosity got the better of him, but he really did want to know what a group of soldiers were doing so close to his home.

After swallowing the doch nut he had been chewing, he took another nut and hoped that the situation would blow over soon so he could get some ale. Suddenly, his cat, Almond jumped onto the floor and soon she had expertly caught a mouse. She jumped back up onto Galthas's lap as he began to stroke her again.
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A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
       -Galthas Tavaria, Dwarven Healer
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Fidget
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« Reply #118 on: July 02, 2009, 01:12:42 PM »

”Kel? The father I should have had in a way. Taught me mor’n my real one ever did. He was an old man I met on the streets of Voldar. Took us kids in, taught us to take care of our selves. Some of us he taught other more useful skills. I knew him for, oh five six years before he died.”

He paused for a moment, staring over her shoulder as the memories flooded through him. Nothing specific just a multitude of random events that created a whole. A gesture here a smirk there, the scolding he got from a slip of the hand or the praise of a job well done. All the little things that made Kelodin the man he knew. All this passed through him in an instant, momentarily removing him from the present.

When he brought his mind back to the present he realized that the scene between the two men and the tavern girl had calmed. The three men who had entered after had found their target, and though it didn’t seem like anything they would trouble him he shrugged his pack off and loosened the tie of his cloak.

After all this he turned back to the girl next to him ”So yeah unless your from Voldar I doubt you would know him not much of a nobody. Just a crazy old..” He was interrupted by the boisterous singing from the red haired boy, who had stood up on a chair.

“Have you seen the juggler toss knives both up and down? Hoop-la! Hoop-la! the Rovers are in town!" As he listened the realization came to him. Ahh that’s why such a young man is here. I wonder where the rest of his troupe are. Hmm interesting way to try and stop a fight. After the impromptu performance Fidget began to clap in a slow almost sarcastic way. To attempt to take the edge out of his manner he shot the lad a beaming grin before turning back to his companion of the hour.
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The I is lost in me, But I am ready to give you The M. It might even be the E.
As I begin to search for I, The I is lost in me."
               Anders Friden, In Flames

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Laonna
The Wanderer
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Human, Zhunite


« Reply #119 on: July 02, 2009, 03:01:13 PM »

On hearing the description of Kel, she paused to search her memories. Drawing a complete blank she inhaled, ready to tell this to Fidget. By this time, his attention was turned to the young man who had attempted to break the tension by chanting.

A smile lit upon her face for a moment as she thought Well, that's a unique way of doing it. Her attention was brought back to the man beside her as he clapped his hands slowly, and to her thinking, somewhat derisively. The smile that appeared on his face reassured her that he wasn't being all that serious.

Seeing that his attention was now back on her she smiled. Shaking her head, her hair whipping around her face, she conveyed the thought that she was mistaken about Kel. "I don't think I knew him, she paused quickly to recheck her memories, "after a while the names of people and places seem to all run together." She settled back in to the chair, a small smile touching the corners of her mouth.

I'm sure he knows what you mean. He looks well traveled. I wonder.... You never know unless you ask. You wouldn't happen to know of someone called Ainian, would you? Hope adorning her face and sparkling in her eyes, she awaited eagerly for an answer.
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Our remedies oft in do ourselves lie...
William Shakespeare

Laonna
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