Inauguration of Pikel Thunderstone to Full Membership

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[Miraran Tehuriden]

'Alright guys, ready for the final piece? Fire!' Miraran whispered to his rats. Immediately, three more charges entered the enchanted air Miraran was using to ignite his reagents. Miraran focussed even more, this was the best, and therefor most dificult, bit of Sparkstream magic he knew, and it required a lot of concentration.

As the reagents were carried even higher thanks to Orril's Wind magic, the first color ignited, and red sparks started to burn arcross the ceiling. Slowly floating down, they changed color ar Miraran allowed them to burn out, replacing them by orange sparks along the process... Inching down upon the crowd, it looked as if a giant sparkling blanket of beautifully shifting colors was floating down...

-Words to Worlds-

[Lorek Sarnif]

The eruption of the sparks gives him his cue that a small war may be erupting. "Where b' the cowards?!" He shouted looking around for who was unleashing this assault on the scholars of Santharia, ready to give his life for theirs. In a moment he realizes there is no threat and feels like a complete fool.

Deciding it best to make a hasty exit before any notice it was he who caused the disturbance he stepped out of the great library and went about halfway down the stairs. He found himself a seat there and sulked alone, not wanting to cause further disruption to Pikel's celebration. "I knew I sho' not have come. I knew I wou' just ruin e'rythin'." He says in a breaking voice as his pale, yet shining blue eyes lower to the floor. "I sho' ne'er left the wild. I belong with the beasts, as I am one." His voice trails off up the stairs and through out the great hall. He sits alone and lives in the misery and guilt caused by his misdoings.

After some time passes and he feels all have but forgotten about the incident he slowly ambles back up the stairs and reenters the library with a puzzled look on his face. He wanders to the front of the room and raises his voice after everything calms so he can be heard. "I just want to apologize for ru'ning e'rythin'!" He exlcaims over the buzz of the crowd. A saddened frown crosses his face and his eyes again lower. He can't bear to look at them without feeling like an ignoramus. "I simply came to congra'ulate Pikel when I saw the sign outside and made a joke of myself and ru'ned your party. I hope my lacks can be forgiven."

[so orril miesefer]

*Looking impressed at the warrior who sudenly shout, Orril left some sparks fall more over the presents, then notes that some hairs are burned* ups... shouldn't distract myself... *Then thinking he can be a bit mean with the poor soul that believes to be under attack, launches a blast of sparks to the front door, making sure that the warrior will or faint... or believe he's under attack again * A joke never hurts... badly.

*then returns to the espectacle, rising again those sparks that had fallen close to the people.*

What's my magic? My treasure. What's my God? My freedom. My law? the strength and the wind. My mother country the sky So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky master.

[Lorek Sarnif]

Watching on as Orril plays with his mind he finally figures out what's going on here and simply shakes his head. Had this all been an attack he would be a hero, however since it was a gift for Pikel and a joke to So Orril, his temper got the better of him, but not to an extreme out of respect for the Gnome's accomplishment. He approaches the small mage and stands in front of him glaring at him with a snarl on his face. "Tha' wasn' funny. You ma'e me feel li' a fool. I even sorried for the outburst thinking someone was attackin' us. Now I see it was yer tryin' to be funny. A little news for you, earpoint, it wasn't. Say sorry for it, elf, for tha' li'le prank o' yers makin' me feel dumb. You found i' funny I found i' angering." Heavy panting noises can be heard in the area around him as his chest expands with air, he is trying to suck in every bit of it he can to calm himself. He knows if he wanted to he could utterly snap and just lose himself to anger, but he saves that for more extreme circumstances. He can feel every eye in the room fixed directly on him and he simply ignores it for the moment, not worrying about what might happen to him for the mild reprimand for So Orril.

After what needed to be said to So Orril was said, or at least in his mind, he went back to his dark corner and thought. 'I guess it doesn't ma'er wha' I thought o' the display, e'ryone else though' i' was funny.' He thought to himself before standing. This time he used his height to his advantage and began scanning the room blurred by his color blindness and near sightedness. He took in what little he could see and learned the few names he could by who was addressing who as whom. He gives the situation more thought and again decides he'd best keep to himself, afterall he's embarrassed himself twice in a matter of a few minutes.

Taking his lumps from the buzz of the crowd, no doubt tonguelashing him so he can't hear, he simply accepts that he hasn't made any friends. For some reason he stays but again doesn't mingle with anyone, only to avoid being yelled at for his outbursts.

[so orril miesefer]

*Hearing the angered Warrior Orril notes his noisy breath, as a hesture of good will toward him he starts to cast the not-tested-spell Meditation over him*

Relax, it was just a joke, now it was funny for many arround here, sure they will remember you. After all, not everyone can escape from an illusion made by a wind mage. *As he speaks, the spell starts to make the Warrior calm down, stoping the noisy breath.*

There, won't do it again *then whispers to himself*
not over you

*Then the warrior moves back to the shadows again. Orril continues with the few sparks that still remain flying.*

What's my magic? My treasure. What's my God? My freedom. My law? the strength and the wind. My mother country the sky So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky master.

[Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels]

Talia watches the firework with pleasure. What big progress they had made lately in Ximax!
Suddenly the warrior in armour who had come in before felt attacked and shouted around, but  realised soon, that there was no danger. Quickly he went away, but only to come back later and to apologise to for having ruined the party.
Talia had l wondered how he had made it so far in his armour, why he wore one at all in New Santhala in times of peace. He seems to have calmed down now, till Orril starts again with a row of fire sparks towards the warrior which could well be interpreted as.. affront. And he goes over again to Orril and seems very upset. But he calms himself down and returns to his corner.

But there is an expression on Orril's face which tells Talia, that the whole affair is not over . Haven‘t they tested a „smooth mind“ spell lately? That is too much! This is a party and not a testing ground for want-to-be-great-mages. She is about to get very angry, she doesn‘t like when parties are spoiled by other persons not able to be friendly to strangers. It seems to Talia, that it was not the spell anyway which calmed the warrior down, but his own will, though Orril seems to think otherwise. But here has to be set an end to this. It is her responsibility , for she has invited to the party. So Talia excuses herself by Pikel and goes over to Orril:

“Stop it now, Orril, and don‘t dare to do any more magic now, if you don‘t know, were to stop! Otherwise I will complain in Ximax about mages not following the codex saying that magic should not be misused!“ She glares at him, though she has to look up, but in her eyes he shrinks visibly.. With a last frowning of her forehead she goes over to the warrior and apologises.

“Sorry Sir, for the inconvenience you experienced here. it was not your fault, that you thought, there was an attack. We are used to fireworks, but not necessarily a stranger. And Orril should not have teased you. It was very unfriendly from him. I doubt, that he will every grow up if he hasn‘t done so in his last 300 years. Please, be welcome. help yourself to the food we have here so plentiful. Btw, I‘m Talia Sturmwind.“
And this said, she holds her hand out to him to greet him.

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[Lorek Sarnif]

At last feeling wanted he extends his hand and takes hers then smiles warmly in spite of So Orril's ignorance. "S'okay, Miss Sturmwind. I b' Dagan Ares Bloodthirst. I'm sorry for ma outburst." He says in his trademark rich and low-toned voice with the light grit and ever present thick northern accent. He is careful not to squeeze to hard, as even he doesn't know his own strength, especially not wearing half platemail gloves. "I want t' thank thee for thine kindness, Miss Sturmwind and I will help myself." He smiles and nods as best as he can with a platemail helmet upon his crown. "I know I no' b' bein' well liked in these parts of the world. It b' me necklace that b' scarin' folks. I wear it as tribute to me deity, Armeros." He speaks his last sentence proudly and releases his firm, yet friendly grip of her hand.

"Miss Sturmwind, I'd like to b' askin' yer a question. What's it like to sleep peacefully at nigh'? I havent' done in many years. I can't even remember the feelin' o' wakin' from a good night's rest. My past doings haunt me and I don't even remember them, I just get sleep visions o' the things I dun tha' don't remember." He stands and politely offers her his former seat in the shaded corner so she may be comfortable. "Also, sorries I didn't bring nothin' for the short fellow. I like him, and he's obviously bright as the first rays of Injera."

He has forgotten about So Orril's silliness and hopes to make a friend in the young lady who has been the only one thus far to acknowledge him in a friendly manner with much attention. Since his return to civilized settings he has thought about returning with the pack of wolves he keeps as company back to the wild where he feels he belongs, with the beasts that roam the snow covered forests. He takes another quick sweep and spots Artimidor again, and smiles boldly. His large stature makes him feel awkward and like a tower over most of the others here. The closest to his height is nearly half a ped shorter and many lack the thick layers of muscle that he possesses. Grateful for her kindness he listens intently to anything she is going to say to him.

[Alastar Silver]

A large, pointed, blue, wide brimmed hat upon his head shaded his face. All that could be seen was a simple, snide smirk, that never seemed to waver as he made the long journey. He passed through barren wastelands, dark forests, frozen tundra... all the while smiling snidely to himself, nothing on his person save his staff, sword, robes and hat.

After many months he came to his destination, although later than he'd expected (should've taken a right turn at that peat bog guarded by dark elves...) but he was still on time enough to fufill his task. Still smirking, he bowed his head slightly and made his way inside, his staff clanging against the stone floor as he walked.

He could hear the sounds of festivity echoing throughout the hallways and corridors and he followed them to the place he was headed. He strolled into the party without a glance at anyone, the snide look never wavering as he approached his target- the short fellow in the colorful outfit. Recognising him as the one he seeks, he strolls over and promptly taps him twice on the head with his staff. "Either you, sir, are Pikel Thunderstone or you've killed him and stolen his coat AND skin, both of which would be too small for most to wear. As such, if you are he I promptly provide salutations and if the latter scenario proves true, know that I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand, you tiny, flesh stealing fiend!"

Thinking you're sane is the first sign you're not.

~Alastar Silver

[Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels]

Talia is a bit hesitating, what she should answer the tall warrior. She has taken the seat he has offered her and is pondering what to say. „What is it like to sleep peacefully at night?“What does he want to hear?

“Well, if you have forgotten how it is like - it is a good feeling to get up after a peaceful night, especially if a new day full of promises awaits you. But you can tell that yourself, I assume. But perhaps I can tell you, how you could try to achieve that for yourself. What ever you have done to be haunted, regret it and accept it and try to turn away from that way of life. Then start to trust people again, put away your armour and your helmet, be human again, and after some time, which might take quite long though, you will be able to sleep well again.“

She looks up at him, waiting for a reaction, but unexpectedly another guest is coming. A guest who doesn‘t behave like a guest, strolls through the people without taking notice of them. Talia is not sure, if she has seen him already, but he was surely not on the list of the guests she invited for this party. When reaching  Pikel  he talks shortly to him and then hits  his staff on Pikels head. That is too much! Nobody hits Talia‘s apprentice (former apprentice, that is) on the head in such a evil manner. That stranger  looks like a want-to -be wizard, but Talia is not afraid to face him - there are enough high-class-mages around to assist her, if needed.  

She jumps out of her seat, excuses herself by the warrior (she should ask for his name), whispers to him a „Could you please follow me?“ and when walking past Orril and Miran   „Block the magic if this guy should try to do something“(not knowing, if that is possible) and walks quickly towards Pikel and the newcomer.

“Excuse me sir, I think you are in the wrong place. First, we use present tense here, second, that is a closed party , for members of the compendium only and a few close friends of our newest member. It doesn‘t seem to me, that you are one of them, your disrespectful behaviour told me otherwise. I ask you to leave us alone. „
Then she takes firmly the  elbow of the surprised newcomer and leads him towards the big door, and outside.

Going back she advices the servants to close the big wings, which they do immediately.
“The party is closed - and soon over, I‘m afraid.„

No, not over, she has still to ask Pikel for a  dance....

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

[so orril miesefer]

*As a weird newcomer enters to the party Orril thinks to himself* Weird indeed, but nevertless a mage
*Then he see something that makes he angry, but before he can do something Talia whispers to Miran and him to prevent any magic inside and block it...* Huh... that sounds more like something that Silfer can do, or Rayne... why she isn't here? anyways, better we cover Talia, that stranger isn't a person I like. *Whispers to Miran, then do some signals to Shadow and Storm, so they help him to keep an eye over Talia. Talia almost kick the stranger, and if she didn't it, was because was a party... but surely in other ocation and in other moment... the newcomer would be kicked with Talia's might.*

Close all wings... that sounds like a good joke to the winged woman arround here...  Better be sure that no part is open, good chanse to practice my static trap.

*This way Orril follows the servants, and in every door puts a little trap.* Then, better ask for forgiven to the warrior... *Orril heads to the lone warrior and brings a scroll, were he put the last attempt of a resting and healing spell*

Hi... I know that I showed an immature behavior, but think that with this I can mend it, take it, is a new spell I'm trying to add to the compendium, is Meditation, and will give you a good rest time, and heal some injuries from the past. Sure you will use it wisely.

*With this words Orril moves to Miran, and continue with his chat.*

What's my magic? My treasure. What's my God? My freedom. My law? the strength and the wind. My mother country the sky So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky master.

[Bard Judith]

From her perch in the minstrel's galley, Bard Judith sees the great doors swing shut, signalling the final stages of the celebration.

Mmm, I wonder if I can slip down a minute and still congratulate Pikel before the party breaks up.  I think my fingers are about to fall off!

She has been filling in as a player this evening rather than either a conductor or overseer; for some reason no less than three of her minstrels have reported in sick with a spring ague, and one young promising apprentice claims to have a fever (though Judith suspects it is merely stage fright...)

She follows along till the little ditty they have been playing comes to an end, then jerks her head meaningfully at the few who are left and hisses in a low whisper which won't be heard below.

"All right, m'dears, well-played.  I think we'll let you off for the night.  Go on down - not all at once! - and help yourself to the canapes.  There should be plenty left, if I know how thoroughly Talia does everything..."

She sets her lute carefully into its bag and asks the youngest to take it to her rooms before joining the party.  Fishing under her stool, she finds a large, flat, wrapped object, roughly rectangular in shape, and carries it down the curving staircase to the main floor of the Great Hall.

Where is that druid?  Gnomes are so hard to locate at a tall-folk party!  Ah... (as Orril moves away) there he is!

Judith goes over to the guest of honour and bows low with a twinkling smile, handing him the package.

"It's a new artwork," she explains with a slight blush, "inspired by your deput, dear Pikel.  Art will unwrap it for you later, just check the Workshop thread!  I hope you like it..."  

She covers her blush by gesturing for a tray of canapes that is just being passed, and choosing a few salty morsels to nibble...

Edited by: Bard Judith  at: 5/15/06 4:35

[Miraran Tehuriden]

As Orril leaves him for a moment to set his magical 'traps' at each exit, Miraran reaches into both his pockets, and withdraws the Rats.
I suppose you heard the Lady? Get over to him, and if he tries to use any magic, bite him. That ought to make sure it fizzles.

As each rat gives him an understanding look, they quickly make their way down his clothes unto the ground. Miraran quickly lost track of them as they disappeared in various directions. Fortunately, Orril had returned, and they continued their discussion about the show they had just given.

-Words to Worlds-

Edited by: Miraran Tehuriden at: 5/15/06 22:10

[Artimidor Federkiel]

"Yes, yes," Arteemidor says, nodding to Judy as he drags the mentioned painting in front of Pikels nose. "Yep, that's also for you... Pie-kel..." He rolls the new pronouncication on his tongue. "Hmmm... This reminds me not to miss second dessert while the party is still not officially closed! Great chocolate cake around here, I tell you!" He looks dreamily in the direction of the cakes. "Uhmmm... Where was I? Ah yup, the Masterbard was busy again with a painting - et voilá, the Northern Sarvonian Gnomish Druid, exclusively for his Pie-kel-ness!" With this he removes the protecting cloth from the painting, revealing the picture.

The Santharian Dream Webmaster - Let Fantasy Dreams come true!
World Development Admin - The Forum where Worlds are born...

Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 5/15/06 20:33

[so orril miesefer]

*the word inmidiatly attracted Orril, Chocolate, and better, was a cake!. Orril served an slice for him and one for Miran, so they could continue they chat about the performance* See, I told you they would accept this spell after we show it here. I recieved the notice from Ximax some minutes ago.

What's my magic? My treasure. What's my God? My freedom. My law? the strength and the wind. My mother country the sky So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky master.

[Pikel]

Pikel's face breaks into a wide smiling, his face beaming as he looks at the second lovely picture for him of the night. Looking up at the bard, he smiles, wrapping his short arms around the womans waist in an attempt at a hug.

Sometimes it was a pity that he was half the size of his companions.

**DISCLAIMER** I apologize to anyone I may have offended in the above post. I would like to assure you that was (most likely) not my goal. I would also like to assure you that the above post (again, most likely) in no way reflects the views of the Santharian boards or their webmaster, Artimidor Federkiel

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