Tales of Faerun

[Macman253]

Sparrow ran a hand through his hair and chuckled, "Well then, the stark reality is again lost on another noble son." Sparrow stepped forward and smiled. "Truth is I was hear to steal from those who had already stolen from another. But since those loyal citizens who pay taxes aren't noble born and the thieves are the very guards you pay to punish and abuse them under the guise of protection are the thieves I thought it right to take something back and give it to their victims." He said before gesturing in the direction of Furthingharrow.

 

"Have you walked in Furthingharrow my Lord?" He asked with a tone of contempt, "People are starving... out of work and in constant fear of the people that are supposed to protect them." He gestured to the Human. "I could never break into the guards barracks and steal their payroll so I figured I'd take something from them when I could." Sparrow moved forward slowly and crossed his arms, "You see Marshal, when the people see your men on the streets beating a peasant or some other such person and then robbing him of what little gold he has they see you. Not the ones responsible." He added before glancing back towards the door, his ears picking up the steady footsteps of three individuals. "I understand Thay is currently a threat to Aglarond, but to them.. living in the streets and hovels they don't care if Thayan troops come marching here, butchering you and your men and the rest of the aristocracy..." He shrugged, "To them, it's just one group of stronger Tyrants killing another group of weaker ones. One oppressor for another." Sparrow grumbled and looked him dead in the eyes.

 

"I presume you are an honorable man, as I presume all whom I meet are... but if a man had only one coin to his name and a Guard presumed to beat him and take it would you stop him? Or would you let it happen simply because the man who possessed the coin wasn't of noble birth?" Said the elf with a curious tone, "You stand in judgement yet you do not know the facts... I have taken nothing, surely my intent was to steal but it wasn't to steal from you or anyone else here. My intent was to take as many coins as I could from the guards payroll, guards that do not exist by the way. Clever trick, hiding the security of this event. Fooled even me, which is rare to be true. But then again a humble thief like myself could never guess the why-fors or the how-to's with Mages." Sparrow stepped back a little. "The only crime I have committed has been trespassing. And I plead guilty to that, how can I not? I am standing here in no possession of an invitation. But, as to the charge of intent to steal I have committed no such act. I was merely attempting to recover stolen property and return it to those who had it stolen from them. If you wish to punish thieves, I suggest you seek out the real thieves responsible my Lord." Sparrow said in conclusion with a slight smirk and a shrug.

Edited July 17, 2016 by Macman253

[AurianaValoria1]

As Rhaine followed the oddly absent-seeming servant, she glanced to Rameses and sighed, "Hold off on that offer...I might take you up on it later if the evening continues to deteriorate as rapidly as I feel it might."

 

Finally, the servant opened a door, and within the room beyond was Sparrow, having been presented to the marshal himself.

 

The Doomguide, who halted mid-stride, had to stop herself from physically putting her hands to her temples, and she muttered, "Actually, I might need it sooner rather than later." Then, addressing the marshal, she added, "Goodsir, you requested my presence?"

 

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Meanwhile, Maydiira turned to see a well-dressed Lucas speaking to her. Raising her snowy brows, she looked around, turning about in a circle, before shrugging, "I...am not entirely sure what to do, myself. I have never been to one of these surfacer functions. It seems so...strange. But it's almost like the Underdark, too. All of this posturing and pretense. It makes me slightly nervous, if I may be honest."

[GrueMaster]

Kaji sighed, bored by the pompous party goers and lack of wild festivities. Seeing as how Rhaine and Rameses walked off when summoned, he couldn't help but follow. At least something interesting is happening... He thought, closing in on his friends. "Master?" Hi-chan interjected, "What are you doing?" *Shhh* "Something is going on... I'm just going along to see what's happening, that's all." Shaking her head but knowing there would be no swaying her bored master, the fire elemental quietly followed suit.

 

What in spirits' name? The wu jen thought upon seeing Sparrow as he sauntered up by the fire genasi. "Ramesama? What is going on?"

 

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We'tak looked at Leif curiously, then with some small trepidation as he heard his clutchmate describe nobles. "Stuffy noble softskins are life-suckers? *Tck...* "I do not know if it is such a good thing to be around them, then..." He then remembered that Sir Gregor and Lady Rosalinde were both "nobles," and surmised that Leif was surely joking. Such nice people would not be so nice, if that were the case. The thri-kreen shook his head at himself for not picking up on his friend's jest earlier and dismissed his worry.

 

"Gifts!" *CHEE!* We'tak chirped excitedly as Leif's words about bringing things to the gala reminded him. "We should bring gifts to this celebration!" *Chee!* "And it is my birthmoon, too... how could I forget!?" He exclaimed, becoming increasing animated as an idea began to form in his mind. "Leif, we need to stop by the inn and get my gythka!" Pulling the hem of his dress up, the insectoid began running quickly, mindless of the strange looks he garnered, so eager was he for his little gift to the mating softskins...

 

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*Sssss...Weee...Sssss...* The young thri-kreen panted, being slightly winded by his recent frantic run to the gala. Worth it... he murmured, not even bothered by the trouble he had at first getting in. Once it was proven he was an invited guest, that problem become nothing more but a vague memory in his mind as he began his search for Rosalinde and Gregor. Giving a cheerful shriek when he spotted them, We'tak scurried over to them, practically skipping along the way.

 

"Sir Gregor and" *tck...* "Queen Rosalinde," We'tak called to them with a slight bow, hesitating at what to call the female and deciding upon that title as remembered the one Sin had mentioned. "Mother Moon's blessings upon your bonding."

 

"We welcome thee, ah, Lady We'tak..." Sir Gregor replied, equally hesitant, the dress We'tak wore throwing off his words from their initial meeting back on that road. "You have grown much since we parted last."

 

Lady? We'tak puzzled this quietly. These titles are so confusing... Putting his frustration aside, he nodded happily at the softskin. "Yes! It has taken a little time to get used to being so much taller, but I am thankful for Mother Moon's blessing."

 

*Chee!* "Speaking of which, it is my birthmoon tonight, and since this is your wedding, too, this night is even more special, one to be cherished forever..." He began, chattering in a surprisingly calm, somber tone. "I do not know what softskins like to have as gifts, but, I wanted to give one to you two all the same, so..." The thri-kreen pulled out his metal cords and strung his gythka, plucking them softly until satisfied with their sound. "Thiss one would like to play a song of my people for you in honor of this occasion."

 

"We would be honored," Rosalinde said, curious to hear what this strange creature might play. We'tak nodded, and began playing a jovial tune on his strings, whistling softly in time. Its lilting pitch exuding a blissful tone, one could almost imagine two clutchmates living happily together, celebrating life itself as they lived it as one. This went on for several breathes, before softly ending on one last cheerful strum. Both Gregor and Rosalinde clapped softly, the latter of the softskins wiping gently at the tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Allowing the strings to hum until silent, We'tak gave a slight bow before speaking.

 

"Among my people, memories are passed from clutchparents to hatchlings. Some are good, and some are bad, but these memories help shape who we are as kreen. And even though our lives here are short, our memories are eternal, and go on to shape those that follow." He paused, hoping he was making sense. "Thiss song honors all the happy memories that thri-kreen live, that thri-kreen may always remember there is good in life. This one wishes you two may have nothing but beautiful memories to share together, and to pass on to your hatchlings."

 

"Thine people sound quite wondrous, Lady We'tak," Gregor said. "Thou truly possess a great talent."

 

"Indeed!" Rosalinde agreed, a happy smile adorning her face as she curtsied. "Thank you very much for this gift. Oh, love, we should invite We'tak to play for us again sometime!"

 

*Chee!* "I would be happy to play for softskins again." The thri-kreen responded in kind, ecstatic at the compliments he had been given. "Now, I must find the rest of my clutch... Have you seen them, by the way?"

 

"I believe the young squire traveling with you is over there." The couple pointed, and We'tak spotted Lucas, and Maydirra alongside him. "Many thanks! May the spirits bless you!" At that, he left, quickly walking over to his clutchmates and embracing the two. "Clutchmates!" He exclaimed, before his usual verbal barrage began.

 

"So this is a wedding?" *Tck-tck* "It seems very nice. Although, what is there to do? Is there a ritual, or music or something...?" He trailed off, having seen a few softskin couples dancing to music that other softskins were playing. "Oh, dancing! So that is what softskin dance is like? Hmmm..." He detected slight mating scents from some of the softskins dancing, and took note of that as well. Interesting... Seeing how his clutchmates seemed nervous, the thri-kreen suddenly had an idea to help them. "Clutchmates should dance, too!" We'tak said abruptly, nudging the two together. "I can even play the music for you, and you will not even have to worry about other softskins!" The thri-kreen excitedly prepared another song from his inherited memory, this one being slower and more gentle, its player thinking to give his friends a nice soft tune to dance to.

 

As he moved further into the song's intro, We'tak waved a free hand at Maydiira and Lucas, urging the two begin, his eyes cheering them on...

[josh900]

Gante could scarcely believe the vast amount of utter stupidity that was spewing from Sparrow's mouth. "That drop you suffered as a child surely kept I see." He scoffed before removing his overly decorated helmet and scratched behind his pointed ears.

"Chances are you haven't been here long so I'm going to let you in on some important information. I have served this country for more likely longer than you've been alive, so do not ever assume that you know even a fraction of what I know about it. You're an outsider, you don't know this place, you don't know these people. You don't know what they know, what they feel, what they think, or who they're loyal to. The only thing you know, is how to run your mouth. You see, there is no corruption in our guards ranks, because we deal with that very quickly. The penalty for any member of the military, regardless of station abusing a civilian, is death by hanging. And we take every accusation very seriously. The last thing we need is a Thayan agent making their way into our ranks and spreading contempt among the local populations. But then, you'd know that if you walked the streets like I do." The Marshal finished with a sneer.

 

Every assumption that Sparrow had made was fully incorrect and had mountains of paperwork and documentations to prove it.

Gante would have loved to disassemble each and everyone of Sparrow's naive assumptions about the local populous's political opinions, but Rhaine's arrival put Gante back on track.

"Yes I did, you arrived at the estate in the presence of this man, did you not?" He began to speak again without waiting for Rhaine to answer, he already knew what it would be after all.

"He was found, a few minutes ago, breaking into the estate in an attempt to steal the guard's payroll. His justification for this act, was that his actions were altruistic in nature, and that he was trying to get back at the city guards for allegedly stealing from civilians." He explained, letting the information sink in before speaking again. "To reiterate. He wanted to steal from the city guard, so he snuck into a private residence, in an attempt to steal the payroll, from the private security force that do not take a step out into the streets while they are on duty, nor do they have any jurisdiction outside these walls. But that's alright though, you see, even though he's admitted to his intent, he wasn't successful so according to him, I can only charge him with trespassing." He laughed before looking back at Sparrow.

 

"When a man under my command breaks the law, you know what I do? I give him a chance to explain his actions and if I don't find the reason just, I hang him, regardless of the crime I hang him like all the scum of the Realms. I wouldn't hang you." He shook his head.

"I'd slit your throat and leave you convulsing on the floor and filling your trousers while I stepped over you. But lucky for you, you're not one of my men. So I'm sentencing you to fifteen years in the dungeons of Veltalar, maybe taking away a chunk of your worthless life might teach you a thing or two. Unless of course," He turned to Rhaine, "you have any objections, and would like to be viewed as an associate to his crimes." He threatened.

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Hearing Maydiira's own uncertainty didn't exactly make Lucas feel any better about the situation, but at the very least it didn't make thing worse. We'tak's immediate arrival and obvious attempt to get him and May to dance together on the other hand, certainly made things more awkward.

"Wait, dance? No no We'tak no that'd... That's not." But before he could even begin to go into why that would be a horrible idea, the Thri'kreen had begun to play.

He turned to Maydiira with an apologetic look, knowing that We'tak's actions had more than likely brought the Drow elf unwanted attention for all the wrong reasons.

"I can't... I, I don't know how to dance." He admitted. Of course the lack of courage wasn't helping him either, but he wasn't about to admit that.

 

[AurianaValoria1]

At the Marshal's threat, Rhaine's lips went thin, and her brow rose. "Pardon me, Marshal," she said, her tone flat, "I did not realize I was accepting a common thief into my company. I was under the assumption he only wished to earn back gold which was taken from him by joining our cause in the Realms, as was the implication when we first met. I did not understand him to mean he merely wished an opportunity to steal it back." Pausing, she glanced to Sparrow and then back at the Marshal, "He will receive no clemency from me. I do not take well to being deceived. Thus, I freely deliver him into your custody without protest."

 

Sighing heavily again, she shook her head, "If that is all, Marshal, I have a wedding I promised to attend..."

 

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Meanwhile, Maydiira was first startled and then rendered speechless by We'tak's insistence that she and Lucas dance together. At the squire's protestations, she took a breath and replied, "Neither do I...at least, not like you surfacers."

[FreemasonGamer]

“Hells’ bells...” Rameses sighed upon following his and the Doomguide’s entrance into the Marshal’s meeting place, a secluded office with dreary lighting. It never occurred to them that the half-elf who had joined their party earlier in the day had only done so only to rob the hosts of the gala. Had it not been for his previous glasses of brandy, the fire genasi’s szuldar would have ignited in outrage, but their fire was muted as they only shimmered and smoldered tepidly.

 

Shaking his head in dismay, Rameses sighed after indulging in another shot of the delicious brandy, “Feel free to do with this burglar as you wish, Marshal. Our company has no place for thieves and liars.” Despite his tipsy state of mind, Rameses’ words were sharp and refined.

 

He tossed a leering expression of disappointment to Sparrow, a slight sneer pulling at the corner of his mouth. Rameses didn’t know the man, and he might have spoken in his defense if he did. Although, the thief had already dug his own grave— not by attempting to steal, but by getting himself caught. Even though the fire genasi didn’t often see eye to eye with upholders of the law— often after a good tavern brawl— he valued instincts of self-preservation, and any rogue who ran into the teeth of such unfavorable odds lacked any. Sparrow seemed like one of those sorts, and Rameses wouldn’t have the opportunity to observe and deem him otherwise.

 

“You still want that drink before I empty the bottle?” The genasi asked Rhaine after he nodded farewell to Gante and Sparrow, having whimsically dismissed the Marshal and his captured fugitive as whimsically as he had followed the Doomguide in the first place. In hindsight, the genasi didn’t know why he offered; this was his bottle, and he alone would see it empty before long.

 

When Rameses turned and made for the door to the study, the tipsy fire genasi almost collided with Kaji and Hi-chan who had rather stealthily appeared at his side. Pouring himself his third— or was it his second, fourth maybe?— glass, Rameses remarked nonchalantly, “Nothing that can be helped, my friend… Let’s get back to the party.”

 

He didn’t give a second thought whether Rhaine, Kaji, or Hi-chan followed him out, and the genasi eventually made his way back to the gala by simply following its sounds echoing through the halls and corridors. Courtesy of the brandy’s potency, Rameses had mellowed out substantially before he had even finished half the bottle, and his newly awarded serenity helped ease his tension regarding the swirling crowds of attendees.

 

Indulging in his beloved brew, Rameses simply smiled like the carefree, drunken fool that he was, fearlessly meandering through the crowds and soon losing himself in the churning tide of gossip, laughter, and dance. The occasional odd look or hushed whisper aimed at the genasi thankfully fell upon dull eyes and deaf ears, but his spotty senses righted themselves temporarily when he saw a familiar thri-kreen scurrying through the crowds in a ridiculous blue dress.

 

“What in the name of...” Rameses’ head lolled to the side as he spoke, his voice falling mid-sentence while he tried to pursue We’tak. Everything felt so surreal to the genasi who deftly wove his way through the limitless gathering of guests, but he suddenly dug his heels into the floor upon noticing the thri-kreen pause in front of a man and woman whose attire betrayed their upcoming wedding vows.

 

Arching a brow, Rameses tried to keep his presence concealed among the noble packs that were constantly in motion, watching We’tak as he retrieved his gythka and began to play a lovely tune. The music was sublime, to say the least, and it soon had Rameses’ hindered szuldar pulsing to the tempo of its inspiring melodies. The enthralled genasi couldn’t have asked for better music to which he could savor his brandy. While the thought of drinking right from the bottle crossed his mind more than once during We’tak’s performance, Rameses decided to uphold at least some etiquette to compensate for getting drunk and continued to drink from a glass.

 

However, he was too preoccupied with pouring himself another glass of brandy to realize the thri-kreen had disappeared yet again; this, he did not notice until after We’tak was long gone, lost in the ceaseless flow of movement and fanciful attire.

 

A sigh then ushered from Rameses’ lungs, and he washed it back down before sauntering through the crowds once more, savoring the music that came and went as dancing become more frequent. As entire groups of attendees began to dance in vast circles that made the genasi’s head spin dizzily, he contemplated another brandy until he saw how clumsy his hands were as he prepared to pour himself another glass; how many he had already was a mystery by that point. The sight made his heart cramp with guilt, so Rameses sought out a servant to which he could return the glass and bottle. There wasn’t much of the amber brown liquid left within the crystalline vessel.

 

“Take this, please,” Rameses implored upon finding the nearest servant, unceremoniously handing over the glassware before wandering off, regret souring the rapture he had enjoyed moments ago.

 

What are you doing?

 

The singular thought echoed through the drunken genasi’s head, relentlessly reminding him of the friends he had offhandedly left without so much as an explanation of where they could find him. While a nearby marble bench in one of the less densely occupied areas of the gala offered Rameses a moment off his feet, resting upon it failed to offer a clear head or conscience. The weight of his folly rested uneasily upon his shoulders once he took a seat, and his szuldar flared fearfully when none of his companions were in sight.

Rameses had gotten himself drunk. He had gone through so much effort to make himself presentable for the gala, and he had dashed it all away by making a beeline for the nearest tasteful alcohol. What the others thought of him, he could only imagine, and none of the ideas he had were kind.

Resting his head in his hands while hoping the condescending thoughts would eventually silence themselves, the genasi didn’t notice the young woman take a seat beside him until she spoke with an eerily familiar voice edged with brutal honestly, “You smell like expensive liquor, Rameses.”

Hearing her voice froze Rameses stiff, and he briefly wondered what might have been in that brandy before he looked over and visibly paled at who he saw. Salaciously dressed in a black and blue dress beaded with teardrops of shining sapphires, the woman next to him offered a sad half-smile, her rich blue gaze settling on him with a confusing storm of expressions.

Brushing a strand of jet black hair from her face, Rylee sighed as he surveyed Rameses’ attire from head to toe. “It looks good, but gaudy isn’t exactly your style,” She remarked critically, her eyes lingering on the phoenix motif embroidered onto the sash tossed over his shoulder.

“… Is this a dream, and have I passed out somewhere…?” Rameses asked suspiciously, his szuldar flaring with fearful vigor. He hadn’t seen Rylee in what felt like a lifetime, so it was easier to believe that the alcohol had gotten the better of him.

What was she doing here?

Grinning softly at his question, the young woman sighed before looking out over the dancing guests. “No, you drunken idiot. If this was all happening in your head, you know I wouldn’t be dressed like a wench.” Despite her jeering choice of words, Rylee’s tone carried no ill will, reminding Rameses of banter from days that have long since passed.

“Oh,” Was his initial response, following her gaze towards the rest of the gala’s participants; watching them was easier than looking at her. While it took him several minutes to contemplate what was happening, the fire genasi sighed, “He’s really here, isn’t he? You wouldn’t be if he wasn’t.”

Unlike her own words, his were simple yet biting, and she bit her lip as she lowered her gaze to the floor. A quiet, uneasy air settled between them before she admitted barely above a whisper, “Yes, he is… I had hoped we’d never find you.”

Szuldar igniting in a fiery display, Rameses retorted maliciously, “’We?’ Since when in the Hells did you work for him, huh?” He tried to find harsher words, but he couldn’t for a slew of reasons, namely his intoxicated state of mind and his inability to speak badly to one of the pieces of his past that had been most difficult to leave behind.

“Yes, since you abandoned the rest of us to deal with Harlock,” Rylee snapped under her breath ruthlessly, but she turned her head away from him and struggled to find the best words until she spoke them quietly, “I don’t want to go back and forth, Rameses. You need to hear what I’m telling you.”

Rolling his eyes stubbornly, Rameses clenched his jaw and replied none too amiably, “Spit it out, then.”

He quickly regretted his hostility when an uncomfortable silence returned to smother their conversation, but Rylee eventually regarded him with a painful expression as she spoke with a frighteningly broken tone, “Harlock wants to meet with you, tomorrow. At dawn.”

An unfamiliar cloudiness entered her sapphire eyes and worried Rameses, but her words only irritated him even more. “I’m not exactly willing to risk my life with that level of stupidity, Rylee.”

“Shut up and listen!” She suddenly hissed quietly, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer, “He has that girl he sent after you, the werecrocodile. His people found her during the full moon, and she is drop of blood away from death’s doorstep, so stop acting like a piss-drunk fool and listen to what I am telling you.”

The severity of Rylee’s words frightened the fire genasi into silence, and it took him a moment to realize who the werecrocodile was. When it hit him, it felt like a boot to the gut.

“Eirene…? She’s a… what?” He inquired, wide-eyed in shock. Rameses would have ever suspected the timid little Mulhorandi of being such a creature, and it slowly began to dawn on him that the full moon was likely why she had left them.

Nodding sternly, the woman next to him confirms, “You heard me; yes, her.” Releasing Rameses’ arm, Rylee sighs and adds, “She’ll die if she doesn’t receive help soon… Harlock wants to trade; you come see him, and she goes free. If you don’t, she won’t live to see tomorrow night.”

The ultimatum tied the genasi’s stomach in an unbearably tight knot, his head reeling and szuldar quaking with violent flames. Rameses fumbled over his words, shaking his head in denial, “No… That can’t be true. She’s just a girl, damnit; if Harlock lays a finger on her, I swear to Tempus, me and my companions will make him wish he was dead...”

“He knows about the Doomguide and your friends, Rameses,” Rylee warned, ignoring his threat as if it had come from a child, “He knows about all of them. Try to come with them following, and you’ll find Eirene dead and Harlock gone.”

That infuriated Rameses. Even in his placid state of drunkenness, the fire genasi felt his blood boil and steam whistling in his ears, his szuldar all but catching his outfit aflame. In a sudden motion, he reached for Rylee with a trembling hand, eager to close his fist around her throat. Surprisingly, he managed to do so with little resistance, and Rameses growled through gritted teeth, “And why in the holiest Hells are you helping him, hmm? Why? Tell me!”

She met his gaze fearfully and struggled to respond, both because of his tight grip and her difficulty explaining herself. Finally, something snapped as Rylee replied desperately, “Do you think I would if I had a choice?”

Her severe words struck Rameses unexpectedly, cooling his hotblooded fit and shocking him into loosing his hold on Rylee. She slipped out of his grasp and returned her cold gaze to his fiery red stare, a familiar fire writhing within them. After coughing slightly, the young woman explaining further in a hushed voice, “I’ve been cursed by his magic since the day you left home; he gives an order, and I obey. Don’t you dare think I choose to help him willingly.”

Pain barbed Rylee’s explanation and frosted her eyes, and the haunting revelation sent wave after wave of cold shivers down Rameses’ back until his szuldar were all but extinguished. He didn’t know what to say— what could he even say?

Rameses knew Harlock was a miserable excuse of a man and an insane monster to boot, but this genuinely horrified the genasi. He never suspected the madman to have known any magic, but this only proved how deadly and downright evil it was when in hand like Harlock’s.

Meeting Rylee’s torn expression with his own, Rameses swallowed dryly and futilely tried to comfort his once closest companion, “Rylee… I’ll find that man, and I’ll kill him. Where can I find him, when will he be there?”

Despite his efforts to comfort her, the sadness in Rylee’s deep blue eyes only seemed to worsen. Ushering a shuddering sigh, she leaned closer and whispered into his ear where Harlock planned to meet Rameses. It was some backwater alley in the Furthingbarrow, Furthinghome’s slum district to the east. Such a thematically suitable meeting place would have been ironic and amusing in any other story, but it only drove the color from Rameses’ countenance.

Having delivered the message she was meant to give at Harlock’s behest, Rylee rested her forehead against his, commanding him with no small degree of aching concern, “Don’t you dare get yourself killed, Rameses Galeran, please… Try not to do anything stupid...”

A slight smile tried to gain purchases on Rameses’ features, but any trace of it vanished when she suddenly stood, unceremoniously dissolving back into the crowd without so much as a goodbye. She had completed the task she was given, and her master had willed her to return.

At a loss with an old but familiar pain in his heart, Rameses only continued to sit there, staring into the crowd from which a ghost of his past, of home, and appeared.

[Macman253]

Markas pulled at the neck of the Halfling-sized black dress coat he had purchased with the stipend he was given. He scratched at the seat of the fresh pair of trousers that didn't quite agree with his left leg. His shoes however were still the cobbled together wreck they had always been, the store where he had purchased his dress coat and trousers did not have a suitable pair of shoes to match for a Halfling, so he had to use what was available to him, which in a town this size there wasn't many of his kind milling about. Fang too had a new collar, a fine etched leather with silver studs and the Tymoran Coin fixed to it upon Markas' request, a tradition among Outriders. The Mastiff sat next to him at a table near the rear of the main hall. Markas missed the comfortable feel of his day-to-day gear but Human weddings were always a dress-up affair. He had never been to one before but he had heard many tales from travelling newlyweds as they moved to their new homes or returned to homes left behind.

 

Fang looked up at a plate of finger-food that was being passed around by the servers. His tail wagging happily. Markas watched hungrily as it passed in front of him. He felt his stomach growl and he looked at Fang, who returned the glance. "Let's see what they got on the big table." He said, waving for the hound to follow. Fang stood up and followed Markas as he navigated his way through the sea of Big Folk legs, Fang right behind him as they traced their way, like explorers hacking their way through some vast forest. Several patrons were startled by the sudden appearance of a Halfling with a large Hound in tow, and even once Fangs tail caused quite the misunderstanding when it twacked against a woman's rump, she promptly turned around and slapped a unsuspecting man for what she must have thought was a cheeky grope of her behind. Markas didn't see the encounter and Fang was too busy tracing his nose along the floor, leaving a slippery trail of drool as the two made their way to the buffet table.

 

After their little misadventure moving through the crowd they successfully found it, Markas' eyes beamed with delight and hunger at the vast array of food available to them. He felt his mouth water as he saw the Squash Fritters and Veil Cakes. The sweet smell of fine wine came to his nose. Fang fixed his eyes on the Roasted Piglet and Lamb Shanks. Markas immediately sought after a stool, fortunately there was one nearby enough and he rushed to acquire it. He placed it near the Roasted Piglet and stood upon it. The attendant looked at the Halfling warily.

 

"May I cut for you Little Master?" Asked the grey haired human. Markas nodded. Holding up two fingers to signal he wished two portions. One for himself and one for Fang. The elderly attendant did as asked and laid the pieces on a plate for him. Markas spent the next few minutes pestering the Attendant to fill the plate for him seeing as how he could not reach most of the food without climbing onto the table, a decision he figured would be seen as rude.

 

After several orders Markas came down with two plates filled with food, one made up of Lamb, Pork, Beef and Chicken for Fang and his own was covered in buns, cakes, fish and sausages. Markas placed the plate down and Fang went to work, devouring his way through the mountain of meat while Markas took up a human sized glass of Wine that looked like a bottle outright in his own hand. He sat upon the stool and ate ravenously, trying to remember the time he had ever had so much food in one sitting.

Edited July 31, 2016 by Macman253

[josh900]

Gante studied Rhaine for a moment before nodding. "Aye there's nothing further. You're dismissed." He said as he waved her away so that he could conclude his business there.

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Lucas felt a great relief wash over him, he was saved from embarrassing himself in front of everyone with his lack of dancing abilities. "Well then I suppose there we go, Sorry We'tak but there'll be no dancing then." He said hastily, desperately wanting to get away from the situation.

 

Unfortunately for him, an observer had other ideas.

 

Like a ballista bolt to a ripe melon, a foreign thought tore through his mind and exited his mouth before the young squire was even aware of its presence. "Unless you know of any other dances that might go well with the music."

[GrueMaster]

We'tak excitedly nodded at Lucas' suggestion. "Yes! Really, any dance would be nice! I've never seen much in the way of softskin dances anyway, so this one cannot judge!" He continued playing, happy just to be around his clutchmates and having fun.

 

 

Kaji just looked at the strange sight with some minor confusion, simply giving a shrug; there wasn't much he could do anyway. At least, not without burning half the place down, which I think the guests wouldn't like... He thought whimsically, before following after his friends and joining the party.

 

"Well, it may be different, but..." The wu jen looked around as he nursed a drink, chatting idly with Hi-chan. "I kinda like this! Granted, the whole grandeur of everything and the ridiculous outfits on some of these pompous folk are a little boring, but really, not that bad!"

 

"It may be wise not to mention your observations to said-folk..." His elemental muttered quietly, but couldn't help but agree that the atmosphere was pleasant, for a change. The duo was pleasantly surprised to hear We'tak playing music to a particular couple, enjoying the insectoid's wonderful song. "Master, how wonderful!"' She said, heading over to listen to more of the thri-kreen's music when she saw he was beginning to play again. Applauding softly, the wu jen looked around for any other signs of his companions, grinning broadly when he spotted Rameses being approached by a rather beautiful woman.

 

What are they saying? He wondered as he tried to spy on them from the crowd, before cursing his unusual appearance. Aaargh, I can't get closer, Rameses would spot me instantly... unless... Kaji began to smile wickedly as a spell came to mind. It would be something of a waste, buuut... And Hi-chan wouldn't know either... "Ah, screw it. What could go wrong?" At that, he went to one of the countless mirrors decorating the place, making sure no one was watching him, and cast a powerful scrying spell to spy on the distracted fire genasi. The magical eavesdropper, however, quickly stopped smirking when he began hearing the exact details of their conversation.

 

Captured? Cursed!? What in the spirits' names is going on?! He thought as he listened to the dire situation his friend had just been set up with. Rameses, come on, even *I* know better than to fall for that! The wu jen raged quietly as he overheard the arrangement this "Harlock" had set. He released the spell, all mirth gone from his expression. How dare they threaten Ramesesama!

 

Managing to mask his emotions for once, he stepped lively towards his down-trodden friend and slapped his back, smiling greatly. "Ramasesama! Why do you look so dour? Come now, we all face rejection in life, but we still have our health and lives, right?" Kaji reasoned, a clearly exaggerated serious expression on his face. "Though wounded on the field of battle, true warriors such as us shall remain stalwart until victory is ours! Come!" Kaji laughed as he grabbed a couple of drinks from a passing servant and handed one to the fire genasi. "Let us enjoy this night, my good friend!"

 

Inwardly, the wu jen felt equal parts guilt over spying on and lying to his friend and anger over those who would harm him so as he began plotting how to burn this interloper to ash in vengeance. Harlock... you are going to regret ever crossing the Great Kaji!

Edited August 5, 2016 by GrueMaster

[AurianaValoria1]

At Lucas's suggestion and We'tak's insistence, Maydiira looked perplexed, "I..." The drow trailed, glancing around. Of course she knew some dances meant to show praise and rejoicing to Eilistraee, but as ignorant as she was of surfacer ways and customs, she was certain that now was not the time and place for such displays...

 

"I'm afraid-"

 

Suddenly, the estate bell began to ring, pealing clearly over the din of conversation, summoning all attendees to witness the wedding ceremony. It was at that moment that Conall spotted a familiar face near the buffet - Markas the halfling? The paladin hadn't time to say anything about it to the newly-returned Rhaine, however, as the crowd began to sweep them all into the hall that would serve as the ceremonial chamber. Rhaine did note that Rameses had gone missing, likely wandering in his increasingly drunken state, and she hoped he wasn't getting himself into trouble. They had already had enough trouble for one night...

 

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When the wedding had finally come and gone, after a ridiculously long and rather boring formal ceremony, the guests were left to mix and mingle for the gala proper. More food, drinks, and musicians all were brought out for the enjoyment of the guests. Of particular note was a massive roast beef and a platter of fried pastries that was meticulously arranged in the shape of a tree...