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  #76  
Unread 20th of July, 2002, 04:33
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" Sorry than I suggested it, let us not speak of this again".
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Unread 23rd of July, 2002, 01:07
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Yavan frowns as he listens to the story. It was a sad one, but there was something more than what they had said. While people did do strange things in the name of religion, there was something about the tale that does not sit well with the elf. A man in red and black chants the doom of the followers of Biate, flees into the night and a week later the killing begins. Odd. Yet the strangest part was that the follower would give them the chance to give up their "blasphemous" ways. Truly it is a strange sect.

"Yes, I would be honored to share your camp. Perhaps my companions and I could play a song or two and help you all forget your troubles for a time."
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Unread 23rd of July, 2002, 08:50
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"Indeed that would be a great Idea" Beronas leans back slightly with hands behind his head. "I would be more then honoured, especially with all the trouble I have caused this evening".
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Unread 24th of July, 2002, 04:05
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Casting another glance over her shoulder, Fions says. "Yes that would make a nice change to the evening. However if your going to set up camp i would sugest doing it while there is still some light about. the meal will be ready before long."
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Unread 30th of July, 2002, 02:59
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Yavan nods, satisfied that things were finally smoothed over between their hosts and themselves. He gets to his feet and makes his way over to the wagon. He removes a tent as well as his instruments and makes his way back to begin setting up camp.

Once finished he begins to tune his instruments again. Humming first and then matching it with the string of his lute. As he finishes he removes his loose fitting tunic to expose a chain shirt. The silvery links glitter slightly and he removes the armor as well, leaving him in a maroon undershirt.

Laying the armor gently with his other posessions he resumes tuning and softly playing the lute preparing.

((OOC: Unless something important happens in the interim Yavan will cast Harmonize with himself as the focus and including any of the others who will also perform))
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Unread 30th of July, 2002, 03:16
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Morgan sets up camp with the efficent economy of energy of a soldier, then she takes care of Dougal, checking the hooves, brushing him down, murmuring soft nonsense while the horse nuzzles her.

After a while she starts singing softly in dwarven, it isn't a forge-song or a war-chant. In it her companions hear the protecting embrace of the home-delve, the rythm of looms, the peaceful laughter of a cavern-brook mingled with the laughter of dwarf-children and the quiet talk of the elders in between pipe-puffs.
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Unread 30th of July, 2002, 11:20
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Ilia moves to help Yavan set up the tent, hoping to accrue a place within it for the evening. Once she has done so, she shoos anyone in the tent out so she can change to give her performance alongside the others. Removing the studded leather armor, she smoothes her mustard colored blouse and brown skirt, slipping a pair of supple leather boots on her feet. A couple of pieces of jewellery and she is ready to perform. Well, almost ready.

Sitting by the fire, she examines her fiddle in its light, and is not happy with what she sees. Dints and gleans mar the woods surface, and the dragon-gut strings are slightly frayed. She lowers her face towards the instrument, muttering lightly under her breath and smoothing her hand over its surface. "Resarcio citharae."

Anyone close enough to the halfling as she does this can see the dimples in the wood raise and level with the rest of the surface, and the strings unfray and twist themselves taught once more. Now Ilia is ready to perform.

((OOC: Cast mending on the fiddle and then begin to play alongside anyone else performing, playing in harmony with them.))
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Last edited by Kahluah; 30th of July, 2002 at 11:28.
  #83  
Unread 30th of July, 2002, 15:17
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Beronas heads to the tent, waiting for it to become vacant he enters then gets changed into a flamboyant set of clothing. Clothes of Blue, Red, Green and yellow, which have a mild glitter to them. Placing his pack and bow into one of the wagon carriages, Beronas withdraws a Fife "Lets party BABY......woohoo" (Sounding a tad like stiffler from American pie). He joins Yavan and Ilia in preparation for the performance.
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Unread 31st of July, 2002, 03:05
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Morgan does not change in her performing clothes, it may be just the echo of Fions' story but she feels far better with her mithral shirt on and her sword near.
She washes quickly, then takes out her harp and sits near the others, trying softly a few simple melodies to check the tune.
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  #85  
Unread 31st of July, 2002, 03:29
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Taking Liberties

As the group makes their own preparations, the followers of Biate gather around, and find a comfortable place to sit beside the fire. The 4 bards take up their instrument of choice, and look out at the small crowd. Beronas with his Fife. Ilia with her fiddle. Morgan holding her Harp. And finally, standing slightly in front of the others, Yavan with his lute.

Giving a small bow to the assembled people, and then to the group behind him, the elf lays his fingers upon the lute, waiting for the right moment. Nodding back Ilia starts playing a simple tune, from no particular song, just a simple tune. Waiting until the moment seems right, Beronas joins the tune, quickly surpassing Ilia's simple tune. A Short while later Morgan also joins the song, her harp work also surpassing Ilia's work and matching Beronas' with little effort.

Listening to the trio behind him Yavan looks up above him to the newly visible stars. Giving a small shiver, the elf once again listens to the music behind him.

I don’t know what it is, but there is something magical about this night.

With that thought Yavan sets his fingers to the stings of his lute, a thrill running up his arm at the feel of them.

Taking the lead, Yavan leads the music away from the simple tune set by Ilia, and both Morgan and Beronas follow eagerly. Attempting to meet the higher standard starts fumbling her notes, and with some reluctance drops back to the simple tune she started with.

As Yavan leads Beronas and Morgan around an entertaining, melody, many of the gathered Biates start tapping their feet, and nodding the heads in time to the tune. Pausing a moment, Yavan ups the standard again, this time moving on to a truly great melody, and both Morgan and Beronas follow him to the higher standard. Darting in and out the music almost seems to have a life of its own, and not a single person isn't Tapping their feet along with the music, or nodding along with it. All of the children and no small number of the Adults were also humming along.

Then once again Yavan raises the standard, and Morgan matches him note for note in this higher level. Again Beronas attempts to meet the higher standard, but like ilia before him, he finds that he is unable to meet the complicated music, and drops back a level. By now no one is the crowd is moving, everyone of them enchanted as the song of a lifetime is played before them.

The Duo begin playing off each other, daring the other to more and more complicated series of notes, twisting off surprising twist, and challenging each other to more, and more dazzling melodies within melodies. Then the miraculous happens. The music moves up another level and it becomes the thing of legends. Pure beauty, made music spills out from the two bard's talented fingers. Everyone, including the other 2 performers cannot turn themselves away the thing that is before them. Their minds cannot comprehend the thing that their ears are reporting.

Then the music stops, and many involuntary cries are heard, that such a thing could ever end. Looking around, not a dry eye can be seen. Even the gruff Hume is weeping, after music of such majestic power.

((Well I hope I didn’t disappoint too much with that post. As you can see I took a little bit of control. And if anyone is wondering both Morgan and Yavan received over 30 on their respective perform checks.))
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Last edited by itches; 31st of July, 2002 at 04:20.
  #86  
Unread 31st of July, 2002, 04:21
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Yavan sways slightly as the song begins, there is something in the air, in the light of the stars that moves him, guides him. He does not play any song he had learned before, but allows his fingers to tell their own story. No lyrics spring to mind so he remains silent allowing the four to create an instrumental.

As the song picks up in intensity the elf closes his eyes and sinks deeper into the music. He can sense the others around him, the notes pouring forth from each performer's instrument. He can feel their skill and he increases the complexity of the pace. The fife and harp match eagerly yet the fiddle seems to hang back. It matters little, a song needs all parts to be played and a simple melody is sometimes the best.

He increases the complexity again and the two follow in pursuit. His eyes remain closed while goosebumps dance up and down his arms, legs, and back. The elf smiles faintly as they play, it was a good song, a very good song, perhaps even great.

His lute raises the bar and the harp follows without any difficulty. Now the song has evolved beyond music and into beauty. The plucking of the harp and the picking and strumming of the lute weaves an intricate pattern, almost a proclamation of the life the flows through the two artists.

Yavan plays off of Morgan and in turn she plays off him. The music has full control of the elf now and he is barely able to recognize the relative silence that has encapsulated every other person in the camp. Not even the fiddle or the fife play anymore, there is merely the lute and the harp, two stringed instruments playing melodies beautiful enough to make a Deva weep.

The elf's body sways more and more to the rhythm as the song grows almost to the point where he is dancing.

At last the piece comes to a close, the notes slowing, the tempo changing until it finally ceases. His eyes still closed, twin tears roll down each cheek of his face. He lays his lute down carefully as the strength in his body seems to have vanished along with the song.

Yavan opens his eyes at last and turns to Morgan, laying his hand on her forearm he whispers a rare compliment by saying, "You are very good," and begins to turn away, the tears brimming in his amber eyes before turning back and adding, "we shall have to remember how to play that one," but he knows full well that he shall never play that song again as long as he lives. To attempt it again would cheapen its magic and diminish its beauty.

He sits down by the fire his energy spent from the performance. A soft smile spreads across his face, this was what he lived to do.

Last edited by itches; 31st of July, 2002 at 04:29.
  #87  
Unread 31st of July, 2002, 14:00
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Great, just brilliant. Why don't you just scratch the bow across the strings, then you'd look like a real jester then, Ilia. The halfling sighs as she drops back to the repetitive notes that she began with, her mind mewling over the thoughts racing through it.

Ilia closes her eyes, letting a tear fall from them and onto the wood of the fiddle. The sounds of her fiddle are almost drowned out by the sounds of the other three musicians. When she opens her eyes again, she spies that Beronas has also dropped back, unable to keep up with the masterful workings of Morgan and Yavan.

Soon after Beronas has dropped back, she drops out of the song fully, unable to keep up with even a simple tune. No-one notices her disappear silently into the shadows beyond the campfire, all being entranced by the near tangiable notes flying about. Only after the music has long died and the notes dissipated, that anyone notices that the halfling story teller is no longer in their company, having retreated to the safety of the tent.

Within the closed bounds of the canvas, Ilia has put her fiddle into the case, and has retrieved the bones, the intrument given to her by the kobold master. The ebon-wood pieces glisten in an unnatural glow, as the halfling watches over them, polishing them with a piece of down-cloth, letter a tear drop to the floor every now and then.
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Unread 31st of July, 2002, 15:25
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Beronas sensing Ilia start to struggle starts to play his fife, Morgan joins him, they pave the way as Beronas begins to add his very being into the playing of his Fife. As Yavin joins in, Beronas matches the complexity of the tune, the song manifesting a life of it's own, Beronas struggles to match the perfection which belows from the instruments of Morgan and Yavin. As the group continue to play Beronas must yield and merely play in the background as the music is by far to much for him, he cannot match the complexity and skill as Yavin and Morgan are showing. As they play Beronas becomes entranced by the sheer beauty of the song, he can barely fathom playing such a song at his current skill level, the background must do for now. As the song comes to an end he can do nothing but smile as they have completed one of the most beautiful songs that he has ever heard.
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Unread 1st of August, 2002, 02:25
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It felt like the music was playing me it's the only thought Morgan is capable of.

She had heard of 'Angwen', the name whispered in hushed, respectful tones by her master.
Angwen, the gift of Fharlangh, the force behind masterful compositions and truly great performances, the divine inspiration without wich there is no bard, but a mere 'gerthiddyn', a player.

But she had never experienced it... till tonight.

Exausted she sits near the fire, thinking she should be singing and crying with joy at what had just happened...instead she sits, stroking lightly and gently the wood of her harp as if it was a living thing.

She, Morgan thinks of a sudden, as if it was another's voice in her brain not 'it' but she!

" And you have gained a name, after tonight" The young bard whispers to the instrument, " from now on, you are Swan".

For a moment she thinks she feels the shadow of a tremor under her fingers.
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Unread 1st of August, 2002, 06:01
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In there near silence, that follows on the heal of the song, no one speaks loudly, as is afraid of what their own voices will sound like in comparison to music like that.

With eyes shining, Fions gets up and walks away from the fire, towards one of the caravans, motioning the still weeping Hume to follow her. As if her leaving is a single activity and noise resumes, and sudden bubble of voices swells up, talking about the song. Rapidly the stew is passed out, and extra large servings are placed before the 3 bards, soon accompanied by mugs of what seemed to be wine. After delivering these substances the remaining trio, the follows of Biate eat their meal too, but keep a respectful distance between them and the performers, with more then one set of eyes, still shining, as they look upon them with awe. In the middle of this, no one notices Tandie take some food, and get up and walk away from the fire.


Away from the still assembled people, inside a tent, the halfling polishes a bone instrument, and is that withdrawn that she doesn’t notice anyone approaching until they are also within the Canvas tent. Looking down on her stands the woman who Ilia had met before, Tandie. With out pity, shock, or any other emotion crossing her face, the Woman places a bowl of steaming stew at the halflings feet, and a small wineskin next to it. Sitting down next to her, the human gives Ilia's arm a small squeeze, before devouring her own bowl of stew in silence.
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Unread 1st of August, 2002, 12:17
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Ilia looks up and sees Tandie kneeling there with a bowl and wineskin. The human woman places the bowl at the halfling's feet, carefully evading the pieces of ebon-wood that are scattered about in the same locale.

The halfling smiles and whispers. "Thank you.." Then drops the down cloth atop the pile of unpolished ebon-wood bones, before taking up the bowl and spoon to begin eating.

About halfway through, Ilia makes a small, off-hand comment about her performance, or lack thereof. "Mayhaps I should keep myself to story-telling." She smirks lightly, giving a breath of a laugh at the same time.
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Unread 1st of August, 2002, 16:09
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Beronas devours his portion of stew, very satisfied with the meal he bows his head in thanks to the followers of Biate then heads back to the wagon to reclaim his gear.

As Beronas passes by the tent he notices a human female eating dinner with the depressed Ilia. I may have to talk to Ilia later she looks quite upset, although I don't know how much help I will be.

Beronas arrives at the wagon, gathering his gear he sits on it's end, humming the beautiful melody that was just played, remenising on the wonderful performance.

(OOC: Beronas will keep a look out for anything odd for the time being. Spot checks +0, to notice anything odd)
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Unread 2nd of August, 2002, 12:03
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Yavan eats in silence as he lets the chatter of the followers of Biate wash over him, but the words fall on deaf ears. A great sadness has swept over the elven bard. They had created something magical, something special, but what about the next time he picked up an instrument? Or sang? It wouldn't be the same. It would be nothing more than a pale shadow of this evening's performance.

Yet he couldn't give up music merely because he had one amazing night. The more the elf ponders the performance, the more he realizes that it was not a one time occurrance, but a glimpse of things yet to come.

The melancholy fades as he is filled with an emotion he hasn't felt in quite some time. Hope. He quickly finishes his meal and goes to his tent. Notes and melodies are playing through his head as he excitedly picks up his lute and opens the flap.

He stops and raises his eyebrows in surprise as he sees Ilia and Tandie sitting and eating. He smiles a bit and gently lays his lute gently down with his other instruments. He allows his exuberance to continue to carry him when he reaches down and touches the halfling's shoulder. He says softly, "Next time it will be you who brings us all to tears, I guarantee it."

He stands again, leaving them to their conversation and makes his way back outside into the night air.

Last edited by Cadrius; 2nd of August, 2002 at 12:17.
  #94  
Unread 2nd of August, 2002, 17:23
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Ilia looks up as the elf enters the tent, laying the instrument alongside the rest. Aye, mayhaps I shall bore them to tears with more simple tunes. She smiles graciously as he gives her shoulder a squeeze before exiting the tent once more.

Taking a large swing from the wineskin, she sets the bowl down and goes back to polishing the ebon-wood bones. By the end of the polishing, each piece gleams, the black wood shining in the torchlight.
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Unread 2nd of August, 2002, 18:07
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After the first bite, Morgan realizes that she is ravenous, besides that, the stew is really good.

A mouvement attracts her attention, it's Tandie, bringing a bowls into the bards' tent.

Ilia; should I.... No, I don't think she will be happy to see me now, better to leave her in peace, with Tandie.
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Unread 2nd of August, 2002, 22:13
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As the Two females silently make their own way through the meal. Putting the bowl down, and taking a sip from the wineskin Tandie begins to speak with out looking at the halfling.

"If I may I would like to tell you a story, though I doubt it will be as goo as one of the many stories that you know. None the less here it is. Not too long ago, I was preparing the evening meal for our group. Felling slightly adventurous I decided to, instead of following a set recipe, make it up as I went along. I did what ever felt right while cooking it, adding this, simmering this. It was my perfect meal, even though I had no idea what went into it. Everyone except for Hume was awake all that night being sick."

Picking up her bowl, Tandie begins to eat again slowly, continuing to talk between swallows.

"I've come along way from that failure, hell this stew isn’t half-bad even if I do say so myself."

Stoping to eat for a moment to look at the halfling for the first time. She continues

"But the most important thing that happened from that incident, is the rest of my freinds and family, never stoped eating my cooking"


((Damn, it took me three goes, starting from scratch each time, to get this post to how i wanted it))
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Unread 5th of August, 2002, 01:43
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Ilia looks at the woman as she speaks, nodding as she finishes. The simplest stories often hold the biggest keys to life.. "Thank you for that. Mayhaps I should quit moping about as if my performance tonight, or lack thereof as it were, were the end of the world."

The halfling takes the long black case and places each of the differing sized ebon-wood bones into their respective slots, before closing the lid and standing. She walks over to Tandie and gives the Cadasian woman a sincere hug, thanking her once more for helping her shake the melancholy from her being.

As the two females exit the tent, bowls and wineshin in hand, Ilia looks up at Tandie, smiling just a tad wistfully. "Though, admittedly, it would have been good to have been more of a part of the magic tonight."
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Unread 6th of August, 2002, 13:06
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By Request of Kahluah

Thinking for a short moment, about the halfling's comment.

"Well you may not have been there with them during the incredible heights, but you were the one that started the music. It was you who started it all, upon your music that it grew. But enough of my talking, I think Fions wants a word with you 4."

Gesturing over to where Fions is standing next to Morgen and Yavan holding what looks to be a very old chest. Over to their left Beronas is also walking towards the small group, having seen Fions approach.



((Who Wants Treasure? ))
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  #99  
Unread 6th of August, 2002, 13:56
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Slightly puzzled as to what Fions wants with them Beronas heads over to where the group is now gathering. He looks on waiting for Fions to respond to their arrival.
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Unread 6th of August, 2002, 16:49
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Ilia looks up at Tandie, smiling slightly. "I suppose it did." Hrmm, mayhaps she is right. Without me, the music would not have begun as it did, and thus may not have grown up as it had.

With that thought impressed in her mind, she is visibly happier, and practically skips over to Morgan, Yavan and Fions, the chest in the dwarf's arms piquing her curiosity somewhat.
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