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Author Topic: Invitation to All: A Holiday Party  (Read 10496 times)
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Rayne (Alýr)
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« on: 03 December 2009, 12:59:41 »

I have decided that we don’t have Since I’m bored, and well… lets face it- devilish at heart,  evil  I have decided that we don’t have conversations around here like we once did.
I don’t know why, though I suppose if any of my fellow Santharians are like me, you’re finding that RL can really squeeze your free time. So, after succumbing to boredom, I read new threads, old threads, and ancient threads… *sigh*… ah the good ol’ days. Where has all the fun gone? I miss the tavern thread…. I miss.. *Looks around nervously*.. umm maybe it’d be better not to say. :D

But, that said (or not…) - I propose a new thread: (though I’m afraid God only knows what I’m about to write… wait- scratch that, reverse it… no he doesn’t… ;)  )

*ahem*

*several seconds of silence pass*


oh yeah… here it comes




The month of the frozen rivers had arrived, and the cold was setting in. In a set of mountains located in an undisclosed and yet conveniently well-known area of Caelereth, snow speckled the ground to hint that winter had come at last. Among the tall pines that kept their green hues into the frigid months, empty trees with bare branches stood naked on the mountainside. Besides the occasional rustle of thicket brush or the cooing of a distant owl, the still air held only silence.

That is, until it was broken by the sound of an elf trekking through the wilderness, up the mountainside. Despite the journey and the cold, the little elf seemed relatively comfortable. Her slender figure, covered by a grey robe, moved easily through the mountains, though magic may or may not have had something to do with the ease in which she had climbed.

She stopped a moment and peered about. It had been three days since she'd begun her search. Unfortunately, she lost two days because her map was upside-down, though that was hardly the point. Three days! She sighed with exasperation and trekked a little farther until--at last! From the trees emerged a dark building, abandoned for years on the slopes of this lofty mountain: the tavern.

Rayne smiled with relief. The tavern filled her with a strange nostalgia for the old days. How uncomplicated they seemed! She could almost see everyone now--Xarl, Dala, Viresse, Anaea, Silfer, Luci--all making their way to the old tavern. She had been only a little elfling, but she still remembered all the laughter and joy of those times.

Well, perhaps they might be had again!

The elf wandered to the cabin, aged and more than a little dilapidated. But it still stood!--and that's all that mattered. Taking in a deep breath, she opened the door: creeeeeak. She opened her palm and there produced a small flame to light the darkness. The inside of the tavern was more than a little dirty--she had her work cut out for her! Dust lay in a thick layer over everything. A little rat peeked its head out of a crack in the wall. She sighed, and a little paper bird fluttered from her robe to land on her shoulder. It looked at the dark-haired elf and chirped encouragingly at her. She smiled a little--and went to work.

Within a few hours, she had removed all the dust from the tavern. About the main room, small braziers sent light into the room, through the windows, and through the mountain wilderness as a sign that the tavern was once again occupied. The bar had been dusted and polished, and properly stocked with everything from Blue Wine, to Shendar Wine, to Injeruillin, along with a sizable choice of the best dwarven and hobbit brews in all of Caelereth!

For a seasonable flare, she had decorated the tables and walls with sprigs of holly. In the corner of the room, a few paper birds were fluttering about an Aellenrhim harp, providing some spritely music. She had laid out fried tuberroot snacks on some of the tables, and JhelHee Dip and Koekenchips here and there on the bar. Dinner was cooking in the ovens in the back of the tavern, and the whole building smelled like roasted taenish. In the hearth burned a cozy fire.

As a finally touch, she hung a wreath on the door, then smiled a bit wearily. She glanced out at the position of the sun. Soon her guests would be arriving. From her pocket, she pulled out the invitation she had sent to everyone:

Quote
Dear Fellow Santharian,

I am holding a winter party in the mountains of Caelereth. It will take place on the third day of the month of the frozen rivers, at whatever time you can make it. I would be ever so pleased if you came. Here is a map to show you the way:

[Insert Map Here]

No need to bring anything, though you may if you like. I look forward to seeing you!

Yours,
Rayne

The little elf folded the invitation and stuck it back in her pocket. She wandered back into the tavern, poured herself a drink, and enjoyed the sound of the little paper birds playing the harp.
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"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #1 on: 04 December 2009, 05:44:36 »

Artimidor found himself in the midst of the forest, sitting at the foot of a gigantic tree.

Putting his walking stick to the side after having travelled for several hours, he looked up, his eyes impressedly following the tree's reach for the skies. At the ground a good portion of the urban's large roots enwrapped the outer rim of the hill on which the tree itself towered majestically. And there he sat, maybe a stone's throw away from the trunk in front of the mound, in a small naturally formed niche. It was made of the urban's enormously sturdy roots, just as if they were meant to invite anyone who passed by to take a rest. And so he had done.

There he was, the piece of paper still in hand. Unfolding it yet again his eyes skimmed over the lines written on it in shoddy handwriting... It read:

"Ooops... Wrong story, pal! You've just read a top exclusive excerpt of Artimidor's current work in progress 'The Journey', which is actually attributed to the famous poet Monsonius. To appear on the Forum within the next week or so! Be there!"

Artimidor opened his eyes. Geez, he thought! Advertisement in dreams! Weird concept!

Anyway, he finally got up from his place at the sturdy roots. He got his stick, picked up the letter and the map that lay next to him and went along the path he knew pretty well. It led to the tavern up in the mountains and he was expecting old acquaintances and new ones there and was looking forward to it.
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« Reply #2 on: 04 December 2009, 05:51:44 »

Seeker steps off the boat grateful to be on solid ground at last.  Perhaps now all these nightmares will go away and I get back to some serious paintng, he muses.  As he began his journey down the long pier Seeker was abruptly confronted by a messenger on horseback.  

"Are you the mage they call Seeker?"  the messenger boomed from atop an old Azhorhrian horse.
"Seeker is a wanderer, What makes you think you can find him here?" was his response.
"A friend of the Compendium is sending word, I do not know how she knew Seeker would be here.  Are you him?"  He asked patiently.
"You know very well that I am.  No doubt this "friend of the compendium" told you I would have flaming red tattoos on my face. Don't see that every day.  Give me the letter."  Seeker demanded.

As he reads the letter a visible change comes over Seekers face and his mood became suddenly bright.  "A letter from my friend Rayne...a party...GREAT!."    
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« Reply #3 on: 04 December 2009, 06:25:25 »

Keldren sighed and looked around at the frozen countryside as a cold wind sprang up making him pull the hood of his worn cloak tighter. He pulled off one of the thick furred gloves he wore and unrolled the note he had recieved again.
He looked up checking landmarks and hoped that a few more hours would put him in sight of his destination. Pulling on his glove again and settling his pack and weapons more comfortably he started out through the white again. Hoping the map was accurate.
« Last Edit: 04 December 2009, 10:35:00 by Stormraven » Logged

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« Reply #4 on: 04 December 2009, 07:31:19 »

A figure, tall, slender and clearly alone was making its way through the snow covered mountains. Technically, he hadn't received an invitation to this. Technically he had 'borrowed' Deklitch Hardin's invitations to get the directions to this place. Technically he hadn't been invited, but that did not stop Sordoc. He was determined to be there. He was determined to bybass the illiterate hacks of the New Santhalon Society for the LIterary Arts in his efforts to ensure that his works got the exposure and the audience that they rightfully deserved.

And so, he was here, following the directions that were on the map that he had procured from Deklitch Hardin. As he made his way he composed a rhyme that he began to sing ... for some reason he was thinking of pirates that were all orphans as he was composing it ...

"Climbing over snow capped mountain,
Skipping rivulet and fountain,
Passing where the mighty paxen shiver
Passing where the paxen shiver,
In the month of Frozen River,
Making tracks in the fallen snow,
The fallen snow ..."

That was as far as he got, because there, in the distance there was ... a  building ... the tavern towards which Master Hardin's invitation would have taken the youth.

As he reached the door, he looked inside and pronounced grandly as he took on a dramatic stance, "Greetings culture lovers! Tis I, Sordoc the Great. Even though my invitation unfortunately got waylaid somehow, I still managed to make it here, using my intellect and other skills which I possess in abundunce. When will I be performing my works for your entertainment?"
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« Reply #5 on: 04 December 2009, 20:50:09 »

Rookie pushed her bemittened hands further into the soft downy under layer of her mount's neck as the falcon soared majestically across the snow-filled landscape.  The bird seemed to be enjoying the wide open spaces and for once was not in a bad mood because of the long journey.  Exactly how long it would be was still a bit of a mystery to Rookie unfortunately, as she had been a bit lazy when she was making a smaller version of the map on her invitation.  They were currently somewhere between the purple line that could be a river (she'd run out of blue ink) and the point which was the mountain's peak, which meant the cabin was probably somewhere around this side of the mountain.  Probably.

A random eddy from below brought a strange sound to her ears; a tune, not the warbling song of a bird, but a human voice.  Leaning forwards, the little Brownie directed her mount down, scanning the ground for the source of this sound.  This turned out to be a lone man, singing to the snow as he trampled it's pristine sheeting.  "Hello!"  Rookie called out, hoping that he might be one of the other guests at the party and migth also have a better map than hers, but either the wind was carrying her little voice away from him or he was singing too loudly to hear her.  She decided to simply follow him instead.

Only when she looked up from the figure did she realise that actually the building was right in front of her, only hidden a little by a strange slope in the mountain side.  She followed the man at his walking pace, waiting until he opened the door for himself to slip through the gap above his head.  Rookie flew over to the table landing her falcon delicately at one end before leaping nimbly off of it's back.  Her happiness and excitement at the proposed party spilled out of her, causing an extremely excited wave, involving most of her arm and a lot of hopping up and down. 

"Greetings Mr Sordoc and Miss Rayne, and thankyou very much for the invitation" She looked around at the distinct lack of other guests, wondering whether this was really the appropriate time to perform intelligent feats and "other skills", whatever they may be.  Still, he seemed so keen, maybe he wanted to perform to them.  She decided not to interfere, and instead removed the packages she'd brought with her, allowing her mount to sore off into the rafters for a snooze.

"May I add this to the table?", she asked their elven host, holding out a couple of packages each about four nailsbreaths long and half as wide.  "I did not have much space to bring anything, but this cinnabark can be brewed into a very pleasant spicy tea that is said to enliven the tongue for talking, and make new friends easier to come by.  It's fairly strong, so just a little will go a long way.

Her eyes were already scanning the goodies that were in front of them, particularly the fried tuberroots.  After the cold journey, a one of those would be just the thing to set her right.
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Alysse the Likely
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« Reply #6 on: 05 December 2009, 00:51:21 »

Alysse regarded her map sceptically.  We do not use these things, she thought somewhat scornfully.  We navigate by landmarks.  However, it seemed she was at the right place, since she could see the tracks of other people having been this way.  They must be the right ones, who else would be coming out to this remote place?  She tucked the map away and hurried onwards.  I hope I'm early enough with this food.  Can't expect one person to bring everything.
As she approached the cabin, she spied the falcon swooping past her and through the opened door.  Who was that who just entered?  She felt an apprehensive chill.  It looked like...but surely not...who would have invited him?!  Must be a chance resemblance, she decided.  It couldn't possibly be...Sordoc!
"Sunspawn!  It is that curi'lyr," she muttered under her breath.  Quick, I'd better get in there and drown him in the ale.  She thought wistfully of actually holding his head in a barrel, but felt that it would be a waste of good ale.  If I can just coax him to have a few drinks, maybe he'll pass out and we won't have to listen to anything worse than snoring.
Alysse hastened to the door and pushed her way in. Subtlety, she thought.  This is no time for barbarian tactics--fun as they might be. 
"Master Sordoc!" she exclaimed with false exuberance.  "Surely you cannot be expected to perform for some time yet, too few are here.  Sit and have a mug or two, or three, of ale.   You wouldn't wish to strain your voice through lack of preparation."  She took one of the ale-skins she had brought and filled a large mug to the brim. In the back of her mind, she recalled the Paxen epic and earnestly redoubled her efforts.
"And some food."  She set down a platter of cookies and smiled at him winningly.  May they choke you, she thought uncharitably.
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Rayne (Alýr)
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« Reply #7 on: 05 December 2009, 09:19:10 »

Rayne looked at Sardoc, slightly puzzled at him appearance. Had she invited him? She couldn't remember now. As soon as she saw him, her mind was suddenly befuddled by a dozen confused and poorly-constructed versus--something about paxen? She couldn't remember. "When will I be performing my works for your entertainment?" he asked, and Rayne, suddenly struck with a strange sort of terror.

Fortunately, Alysse entered at just the right time, there to distract the young man from what might have surely been a disastrous situation. She smiled with relief, and gave Alysse an appreciative wink.

Rayne heard a small voice say, "May I add to the table?" and looked around. At first she saw no one, but glanced down to see a little Brownie offering her a couple packages of cinnabark. She smiled, and gratefully accepted the packages, and gestured to the fried tuberroots as a way of inviting the lovely Browniin woman to enjoy. Meanwhile, one of the elven mage's little paper birds fluttered up to the rafters to warble at the Brownie's falcon.

After greeting her three guests, Rayne hurried to the back to put away the cinnabark. She could smell it through the package, and it smelled delightful! It would be perfect for an after-dinner tea! After preparing the water for boiling and checking on the roast taenish, she emerged back into the main room of the tavern, and glanced briefly out the window. Hopefully more guests would arrive soon--and hopefully no one was lost!
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"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
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« Reply #8 on: 05 December 2009, 11:25:11 »

Dek was frantic. He had lost them. The invitation and the map, he had lost them both. He remembered the day well. He had just woken up in the Red King Inn in Naios, walked out to the common room of the inn and was greeted by a messenger from the compendium. It appeared Rayne was holding a holiday party for all compendium writers and he was invited to it. He read the invitation and the map and nodded his thanks to the messenger. The messenger headed off and Dek had settled down to a breakfast.

He recalled now he had been bothered AGAIN by Sordoc. The 'poet' had been dogging his steps for months now, and now that Dek thought about it, the bore had been watching the interplay between him and the messenger, such as it was quite closely, and possibly even noticed where Dek had placed the letter. And Sordoc had left in a hurry after that. Dek pondered that now as he waited somewhere down a coastline. He watched as a boat came to shore ahead of him, and a figure, his face emblazoned with flaming red tattoos, got off it. Dek was close enough to hear enough of the conversation to know that the artist had also received an invitation to the party ... maybe.

"Seeker," Deklitch called out, "I need help. I'm Deklitch Hardin, and I have lost my invitation and map to the party. Can I perhaps travel with you?"
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« Reply #9 on: 06 December 2009, 02:01:51 »

"By Isema's cold %@$#@, why do these Sarvonian barbarians insist on having their festivities in the wild, in the middle of a trice-cursed mountain range? Bah!" A shivering, clammy "Vikh made his way up into the valey his map indicated as the place to be, embellishing his trek with colourfull and highly creative curses, swearing, and downright foul-mouthing all mountains, Sarvonians, the oncoming dusk, and whomever invented this concept of 'snow'.

At this moment, a fairly large lump of the cold substance deemed it nessecary to slide off an overhanging branch and into the back of Mira's neck, causing the mountains to resound with a ter'maes exclamation that is best left untranslated, perhaps, and at any rate did not incorporate the holiday spirit.
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« Reply #10 on: 07 December 2009, 06:01:21 »

Seeker looked skeptically at this stranger introducing himself as Deklitch Hardin.  He understood that he was somewhat recognizable…. and with all the work he had done this past year for the Compendium….. it was understandable that more and more people knew who he was....but two strangers in one day...Seeker was suspecting a trap.

"Ok "Hardin" if that is your real name....If you are who you say you are then answer me this…. name a picture I have drawn for one of your entries in the compendium.  Quickly now, no hesitation."

Deklitch quickly rattled off the names of a certain axe and a certain grazing beast.   Satisfied Seeker let a smile spread across his face.

“You will have to forgive me Dek... I have enemies…. all this travel….it gets dangerous, I hope you understand.  It is such a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Of course you can join me. "   The two men clasped hands and wrists momentarily and then began there journey to the party together, wondering if they would run into any more friends along the way.
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« Reply #11 on: 09 December 2009, 11:59:20 »

Eldor ambled up the great wooded hill, now covered in powdery flakes, to a woderful inn. He growled about the infernal snow under his breath, wishing it would disappear. He was growing irritated with its tendency to make him slip, even with the aid of his marvelous cane. Speaking of which...he landed in the snow with a large thud. He was so greatly upset with the snow when he recovered, he focused very intensely and greatly increased the Wind property of motion in the air, causing it to greatly unsettle the snow with the intense gale he had momentarily created.

In another fit of irritation, he caused another wind, blowing open the door of the tavern. Grinning sheepishly as he entered at his new friends, he srugged apollogetically. Having just recently joined the Compendium, he recognized but a fair few. He recognized his good friend Rookie who had assisted him in his extensive efforts with the Milken Brownies, and of course Ms. Rayne. He decided he'd pay Rookie a visit. He ambled over to the lovely Brownie, and said, "Greetings and wellment, my friend." He said stiffly, keeping a mask of indifference.
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« Reply #12 on: 09 December 2009, 13:39:47 »

Keldren opened the door and stomped the snow from his boots, his breath forming a white cloud. He quickly shut the door then smiled around the room before moving up to the bar and laying out two square and one round packages wrapped in wax-cloth.
"I brought cheese, two blocks of Brandypot and a wheel of Smerecase."
Kel took a mug of hot tea and moved to a seat near the firepit to warm himself stretching his right leg and massage the knee. A sigh escaped as heat began chasing away the stiffness the cold had brought to his limb. He was not getting any younger even though he still had a strong athletic build under his Rahaz'Estar skin armor.
While his armor marked him as a shendar his coloring was pale like a Kar'ii yet his hair was dark. His face gave few clues to his age either appearing to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five.
He pulled out a handcarved bone flute and began to play a soft mellow tune.
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Not all who Wander are Lost J.R.R. Tolkien
Rayne (Alýr)
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« Reply #13 on: 09 December 2009, 14:05:40 »

Rayne glanced up from where she was pouring drinks as Eldor came in. She smiled softly. It never seemed to matter the occasion, the situation: there was always something a little mysterious in the way the elf smiled, like she possessed a kind of secret knowledge. Picking up a two glasses of beer, she moved to the table where Eldor and Rookie were and set down the glasses (one appropriately brownie-sized!) and nodded to them both before slipping away.

It was as she was moving back to the bar that Keldren came in, and placed the cheese on the counter. She looked at him questioning. "I brought cheese, two blocks of Brandypot and a wheel of Smerecase." Satified with this explanation, she smiled and nodded her thanks, picking up the cheeses and bringing them to the back of the tavern. There she sliced them and grabbed a few wheat grain crackers. After spreading crackers and slices of cheese across a few plates, she them out for her guests.

Fixing herself a little tea, she settled near the fireplace next to Keldren as he took out a flute and began playing. She smiled as he played, watching his fingers and listening to the melody. After a moment, she lifted one hand. Strings of light formed from her fingertips, weaving together and forming the shape of an Allenrhim harp, she wrapped her slender arms around it and began to play, softly, in harmony with Keldren.
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"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
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« Reply #14 on: 09 December 2009, 20:36:53 »

Mira was slowly losing hope ever to find his way out of this accursed forest. He'd seen three valleys so far, none of them with the promised tavern, and to add insult to injury something had picked up the scents of him and the three live chorakee he brought. So far, it had remained content to follow the exotic travelers at a safe distance, but Mira'd rather not spend the night up a tree, trying to keep whatever monstrosities these barbarians allowed to run free in their forests at bay.

For the umphteenth time, he tried to consult the local spirits, but was met only with the slow, unresponsive shadows of awareness he had come to associate with this wintery forest. Then suddenly, a sliver of something bright and alive was caught in his song, not that far to the north. "Sivterariah? Here? Finally!" With renewed hope, Miraran tugged the ropes of his birds, hoisted up his backpack and set out for the distant Spirit of Community.


(Yes, i'm chasing the Spirit of Christmas Present ;))
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Avrah Kehabhra

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22 December 2016, 02:38:16
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