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Tales of Faerun


AurianaValoria1

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Tannin descended the stairs of the inn down to the common room looking particularly ragged sometime around midday. He scratched at his bedraggled hair as he approached the others as they began to talk about the tournament. "I haven't had the pleasure of competing in one in years. Should be a lot of fun if I can manage to still carry a tune, probably not but hey, I'm a good improviser!" He said cheerfully, despite his appearance.

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Azuris had opted to keep away from Rhaine for the time being, knowing that she was angry with him for trying to defend the necromancer he instead kept to himself, using the solitude to spend time on cleaning his armor and weapons, cleaning out Bob's horseshoes and saddle, and taking some time to relax with a book under the shade of a tree somewhere.

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Hexol meanwhile had stayed in the common room, chatting with the occasional patron, swapping stories and what not. When his companions were all gathered around he returned to them and sat nearby. "I used to try and sing back home, no one really liked it though. Still sounds like a lot of fun!" He said happily, practically vibrating with excitement over the thought of all the new things he might see and hear.

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Kyran saw Nawen come into the inn and sit down with everyone else.

 

"Ivan would love to try the jousting, but I think he'll have to sit this one out since being alive is somewhat new to him still. The magic show sounds interesting. What do participants have to do?"

 

The tournament was new to Kyran as it was to the drow. The moderatly peaceful atmosphere was interrupted when the Grey brothers realised all of their favourite food had been taken. The elf made sure to hide what little bacon he himself managed to save from the tri'kreen's appetite.

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At Kyran's inquiry, Rhaine shrugged, "There are no details of that sort for any event just yet. I imagine they'll be given right before the contests begin. Now, let's head out so we can get there in a timely fashion. Tak'we? Arland? Weyland? Behave yourselves, at least until we get outside the walls, if you please."

 

With that, she and Conall departed the inn a final time and mounted their steeds, prepared to find the fairgrounds. Fenrir lagged behind to stay beside Nawen.

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Tak'we was slightly taken aback by the Grey clutch-brothers reactions. *Tck!* "What? If clutch-matesss want bacon, Tak'we could share ssom-" the thri'kreen stopped himself when he realized he'd already eaten all of the bacon on his plate. "Uhh... *Wee!* "Sssorry?" When they challenged him to a duel, he almost refused... but something held him back.

 

Tak'we realized that part of him actually wanted to fight. But they are clutch-mates! One part of him argued. They just challenged you! The other countered. He was still debating when Rhaine scolded them. "Thisss one iss ssorry, Rhaine," he apologized. As she left, though, Tak'we quietly spoke to the Grey brothers, an idea forming in the thri'kreen's mind.

 

"How about thisss. We do fight, but under thessse ruless. If clutch-matesss win, Tak'we will let them get bacon firsst. *Tcktck!* "But, if clutch-matess lose, thisss one getss to order first and they have to buy it!" He tilted his head to one side in amused excitement. "By Mother Moon, thisss one swearss. What do you think?"

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Nawen stood up from her seat but noticed that Fenrir was close by. She looked at Rhegar sitting under the table, the little wolf was eating bacon, though, from where he got it she did not know. "Right. The tournament." The drow thought and looked back at the white wolf.

 

"What are you going to do while Conall is going to be at the tournament?" She asked the wolf. "I hope I'm not asking too much, but I need someone to look after Rhegar while I'm gone. He's too little to be left on his own." Nawen added.

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Fenrir looked up at Nawen with a curious expression, his answer, like her question, completely inside their own heads, "I shall follow my pack-mate to this friendly-fight-with-gifts. If there is forest nearby, that is where I shall stay and watch from a distance. I can take the little pup with me if you wish, friend of moon-callers. He shall be safe with me."

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"Aww, you wouldn't compete against little 'ol me would you?" Aurora said playfully, sauntering over to Tannin, a look of faked sadness on her face, but the ever present glimmer of seduction in her eyes, she came close to him, looking into his purple iris's. "And you know, my purse was stolen, those five hundred coins make up what was taken... and I'd be very... very grateful."

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"I know. No killing my brother for getting me killed till the fair. Right." Weyland quipped, glaring at Arland.

 

Arland, however, was paying attention to Tak'We. "Let's even that out a little. If we win we get it first and you buy it, and if you win you get it first and we buy it. Fair that way."

 

"Arland, I think you've just landed us in a position of future irreparable debt."

 

"Shuddup." Arland snapped.

 

"When we're in Westgate I will sic mother you." Weyland snarled.

 

"Well...." The less-intelligent brother cringed.

 

"Well what?"

 

"I'm kind of...erm...wanted there. I'm a reformed-" he forced the saying through his teeth and his eyes darted to Rhaine and back. "-criminal, in case you forgot."

 

"Oh right, you proved yourself the dumbest Grey in the family before we even met up again." Weyland deadpanned, starting to head back to their table. Arland followed. "How the been, anyway? You mentioned something about them being better off now."

 

"I don't know, I've been away for a year or three now."

 

"Well I was in Westgate a while ago and didn't see any posters of you. Might not remember you. Hells, there's a reason I didn't hunt you down and beat your hide 'till it hurt to sit." Weyland noted.

 

"Yeah well I left most of them alive. Save two or maybe three. They'll recognize me."

 

"In a city of thousands, most of them mercs?"

 

"Yup." Arland confirmed.

 

"If you so insist." Weyland sighed.

 

"I regret nothing." Arland declared proudly. "Except the loss of bacon and getting hounded by Rhaine and glared at by Amendale and woken up early and meeting that devil-drow with the whip and-"

 

"Shuddup." Weyland whapped him upside the head and ate an egg.

Edited by Flipout6
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Tak'we gave with a chattering laugh, then gave a nod of his head. "Yess, that iss fair. This one acceptss." He got up quickly, threatening to undue his old man disguise, and grabbed an apple as he shuffled out of the inn, leaving to go join the competition. "Well, letsss go! There iss a bet for Tak'we to win!"

Edited by GrueMaster
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They arrived at the fairgrounds by noon. The group stopped and overlooked the flat, green land that rested between to hills just west of Sarshel. To one side, hundreds of tents had been pitched for the guests and competitors, silk banners of almost every color of the rainbow flapping overhead. Some bore heraldic coats of arms, others were long and slender pennants. To the other side was a myriad of small shacks and stands for vendors and demonstrators . To the far right, on the opposite edge of the grounds from the tents, were the jousting lists.

 

Rhaine pulled her helmet from her pack and twisted her scarlet hair up into it as she settled it on her head, buckling the chin strap and lowering the visors. She then took her shield from her saddle and strapped it to her arm, the weight slightly awkward as she was not used to encumbering her left side.

 

"Now...I'm the Knight of the Black Rose. Nothing more, nothing less. Refrain from calling me by name, if you please. If word gets out a Chosen is here, the fair itself will be ruined. And keep your eyes and ears open if you can. I want to know who we're going up against, here," she spurred Azrael forward, "I'm going to go pay our entry fees."

 

Conall nodded, "Looks like there's a gatekeeper over there. I'll do the honors of setting up the tents, then."

 

The two warriors set off in different directions, one in white, the other in black. The latter made her way towards the halfling gatekeeper who, upon seeing her, jumped back a little in surprise. Her armor betrayed she was female, but she rode with the direct confidence of a man...her attire and ebon wings shining with a slight green iridescence in the midday sun.

 

"Ah, greetings, milady," he began nervously, "and welcome to the Tournament of the Rising Sun! You...you have a party with you?"

 

She pulled her warhorse to a halt in front of him, "Aye, goodsir, I do."

 

He seemed even more taken aback by her well-mannered address, "Oh...well, yes, it is ten gold per entrant, my lady."

 

She opened her purse and counted out the appropriate amount of coins, then bent and dropped them into the halfling's hands, "There you are, goodsir."

 

"Thank you," he put the money in a large chest and smiled up at her, "If I may say so, you are much friendlier than that other dark-clad knight."

 

Rhaine's head cocked to the side, "Which dark knight?"

 

The halfling's smile vanished, and he moved closer to her, gesturing for her to bend down. When she did so, he whispered, "He's a Blackguard of Bane...huge half-orcish fellow and the meanest warrior I've ever seen. Came here on his own. Doesn't say a word, but sits and glares at everyone. He gives us all the frights, he does...but the Morninglords can't do anything about him. Not yet, at least. I think he's here for the joust, and if so...be careful, milady."

 

She straightened and nodded, "Thank you for the warning, goodsir. Gods bless you."

 

As she rode off to rejoin Conall, Theron lighted on the horn of her saddle with a small whistle. He looked up at her with blinking golden eyes and she rested a gauntleted hand lightly on his back. Azrael snorted, not seeming to like the suddenness of the black eagle's arrival, and Rhaine tugged lightly on the reins, "Oh, hush, you."

 

The paladin had already begun laying out the tents that the group had kept from their journey across the Anauroch. He had picked an area close to the edge of the campgrounds, a little ways off from the rest of the tents. His grey stallion was tethered nearby, and it was here that Rhaine tied Azrael as well. At that moment, a herald came walking through the camp in bright orange and red clothes shouting, "Hear ye, hear ye! All who wish to compete in the Battle of the Bards must sign up at the Lutemaster's shack within three hours! Hear ye, hear ye!"

Edited by AurianaValoria1
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