Tales of Faerun

[nethgros]

Nydeshka awoke after many days of painfully vivid fever dreams, the runes covering his body flaring to life in a luminous emerald flash. He was drenched with sweat and had a wild confused look in his eye as he quickly took in his surroundings. It only took moments to realize he was safe and healthy. It seemed as though he was to continue for now.

 

Addressing the visibly surprised attendants at his bedside all he had to say was, "Thank you. I thought since there are monks who could live without water I could too..." His voice trailed off and he put his head in his hands and sighed; only now was his own stupidity evident.

[Deleted6317247User]

The last few days were very interesting to say the least. While the other female members of the group did not seem too pleased with the constant measurement and trying out different outfits, while Shalena reveled in the attention she received. She loved seeing the costumes made for them, each new design looking more and more elaborate. She was hoping that they'll be allowed to keep the costumes, but even if they won't the piratess was more than willing to steal them. Such pretty things should not be stuffed in some chest, and Shalena loved pretty things.

 

Surprisingly, she spent quite some time with Nawen, seeing how everyone else seemed too polite to disturb her, and Shalena true to herself one day simply barged in uninvited. Despite the complete disregard to the fact the drow wished to be alone, she seemed somewhat happy by having a company of someone who didn't even try to ask what was wrong. When eventually Nawen asked if she wasn't at all curious, the piratess replied that she already knew what has happened, but whatever she was telling the truth, Nawen did not know.

 

As per usual, Shalena entered Nawen's room as one of the servants brought the drow breakfast. As soon as the servant left, the piratess picked at the tastier bits of food on the plate. "Oh, you should see those gorgeous costumes. If you weren't so intent on sulking in this room I'm sure Menarses would have asked you to dance as well."

 

"I would have refused," Nawen said as she took the plate from the piratess, "I don't see anything great about flailing about on stage half naked."

 

"Of course you wouldn't," Shalena laughed as she made her way towards the door. Having food so close yet out of her reach made her feel quite hungry, "anyway, I think you should stop brooding and join us for once. Some of your friends are worried about you." She said and without waiting for a reply left the room and made her way to the common room.

 

Nawen placed the plate on the table. "Some of your friends are worried about you." She repeated Shalena's words to herself. She was touched by hearing this, as well as felt guilty for worrying them but a small part of her felt... she could not even explain what. It was so much easier then she had no one who worried about her. Back then she never needed to explain to anyone what was wrong, or feel guilty for taking up anyone's time with her problems. But now it was different and it will take some time to get used to it.

[josh900]

The front doors were opened by a giant of a man. Dressed in leathers and furs all put together. On his back he carried two large sacks which he gently lay on the floor. All appearances would suggest that he did not have the intelligence to speak, though when he opened his mouth, his words flowed out in perfect Mulhorandi.

 

"I seek the master of this dwelling. I have brought two slaves that require aid. They escaped their masters some time ago, and suffer dearly for their mistake." He spoke to the nearby servants as he bent down to unwrap the sacks, revealing the unconscious man and woman bound inside of them. Their sorry state showing extensive sun damage, dehydration, and hunger.

[Flipout6]

Over the course of the next few days Amendale alternated periods of reading with spending time with Zorica, exploring the estate to find quiet spots to himself, and occasionally checking up on the patient, whose name he did not yet know.

 

Amendale was in the room when the unfortunate (and unwise) wanderer they'd pulled in from the desert began to awaken. He made sure that the newcomer didn't exert himself too quickly, saying little the entire while....though he did have something to say about his logic.

 

"Monks," He began. "-go through extensive training for a significant portion of their lives. And even with that, this concept of "not needing water" you're talking about was likely magical in nature. Don't believe everything you hear in tales, my judgmentally-impaired friend." He raised an eyebrow. "You're quite lucky not to be knocking on your favored god's front door without a single grey hair on your head to show for it. I'm Amendale, a healer...though not the only one around here. Don't do anything strenuous for a few days while your body recovers."

 

Sybille, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying the dancing practice that Menarses had them participate in, laughing and smiling through much of the choreography. She took the time to rib some of her fellows about how sore they got, or their displeasure at having to wear makeup, but her wide, mischievous grin made it clear that she was just having fun with them. Annette occasionally popped in to watch....and slipped them all muscle relaxants and paint-dissolvers she'd brewed in her spare time.

 

Arland spent much of his time finding something to do, which usually amounted to drinking at the bar or swimming in a pool. More than once he could be found bickering with Marie, or snarking back-and-forth with her, often to the amusement of Weyland, who was often there to see it....though he avoided the water. Dri was joined at the hip with him, and the adoration which they shared for each-other was obvious.

 

A few days later, suddenly somebody else reached the estate, carrying half-dead victims of the desert. Amendale, understandably, was exasperated.

 

"What, more of them? Menarses, your estate is a magnet for these people." He sighed. "I'll get to healing them. Weyland, help me carry them, would you?"

Edited November 30, 2014 by Flipout6

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall chuckled as he peeled Zorica's fingers from his shirt, "Oh, the horrors of body paint. I'm supposing you'll be glad when the festival is over, then?"

 

"Gods, yes. I'm marking off the days," she replied, settling back down beside the werewolf paladin. "Only six left."

 

It was at that moment that the large half-orc burst through the common room doors with his burden - two escaped slaves who were in a very poor state, indeed. As Amendale and Weyland took charge of the unconscious slaves' care, Menarses, who had been polishing a particularly delicate gold vase, ambled forward to peer at the half-orc at the request of his servants.

 

"I am the master of this place," the merchant prince spoke at last, responding to the half-orc in his native tongue, "And you are the second to bring foolish travelers into my abode for rest and healing in the past few days. Some Rashemi barbarian came before you." He then turned and added to Amendale, "Unfortunately, my estate is the only one well-furnished with supplies and personnel for miles. The next closest stop is Gheldaneth, and I have a feeling that's where these two came from."

 

At that moment, Rhaine came down the stairs, rubbing her back and squinting at the group through the eyes of one who had slept too late, "What's going on?"

 

"We've been brought more people who don't know how to survive in a desert," Zorica said flatly.

 

Conall rose and inclined his head to the Doomguide, then gestured to a side corridor, "Good morn, my lady. Might I speak with you for a moment? It's about Nawen."

 

Rhaine straightened, then followed the werewolf to the passage to listen to what he had to say. She recalled that Nawen had been in her room for most of the last few days, and she crossed her arms atop her chest when he faced her, concern in her expression, "Yes? What is it?"

 

He rubbed the back of his neck as his electric blue gaze wandered the room, "Honestly, I do not know. But I do know that she is not speaking to anyone but Shalena, as of late. Something's gone wrong. I heard yelling in her chambers the first night we stayed here, and she has barely made herself visible since. The one time I spoke with her - that following morning - she mentioned not feeling well, but that is all. I have not heard anything else from her."

 

The Doomguide's emerald eyes searched his face for a few moments before a dawning realization lit within them, "Do you...think it was something Tannin did?"

 

Conall shook his head, "I do not know. The only voice I heard that night was Nawen's, so I cannot be certain. Although, I also cannot think of anyone or anything else that would upset her so."

 

Rhaine nodded, her countenance grave, "Very well. Thank you for telling me what you know. I may speak with Shalena before I talk with Nawen herself."

 

He inclined his head again, "You are welcome. I only hope that Nawen can recover...from whatever it is that has been plaguing her, lately."

[Deleted6317247User]

Shalena was chatting with her crewmen when she noticed that two more people who looked poorly were brought in by a half-orc. "If not for all this luxury I'd think this is a temple. What with everyone bringing the injured to this lovely estate." The piratess said.

[Llhunara]

After having indulged herself with far more bacon than she should of, Llhunarra had gone about her own business for the most part. Such a large establishment offered no shortage of luxuries and delicious food, all of which the rogue was more than happy to enjoy. While the four women selected to perform in the upcoming festival bent their backs and busted their asses, she lounged and stuffed her face. Quite the deal she believed, the red head not fond of doing anything that she didn’t want to. Of course she was going to have to patrol the grounds during the festival itself, but depending on how many eyes were watching her “patrolling” might not consist of much actual work. Her flask was going to accompany her while she was on guard.

 

As for the people being brought it…she found it interesting how willing Menarses was to care for them, perhaps it was to keep up appearances before guests? She did not think him an evil man, but running such a place was not free of its expenses and to allow everyone in that needed help over a year might prove expensive if it were to continue at this rate. The first individual brought into with apparent heatstroke mattered little to her as it seemed they would be fine. When the fur glad male arrived with what he claimed to be a pair of slaves the half-elf looks over from her seat along the wall, a half eaten apple in her hand.

 

Zorica’s comment had Llhunarra’s mouth opening to point out the desert and its elements were well worth risking if it meant freedom, but she decides against it. With all of them having gotten along with her so well thus far there was no reason to start anything. Instead she addresses the fellow that had brought them in, carrying both of them quite easily one might add.

 

“What do you owe them that you would bring them here?” Of course he might have owed them nothing, but it was rare to find a soul willing to carry two bodies across the desert out of the kindness of their heart. Then again, the group she had accompanied here seemed to possess kinder hearts than most.

[josh900]

Noting Menarse's use of common as well as the other speakers of common, The large half-orc decided to speak in it as well. "Not many can survive out in these lands, I imagine desperation was the cause for these two's ill-fated venture. Be sure they're well cared for before returning them to their masters. I imagine there will be a reward for their safe return. Now could I be so bold as to request a pitcher of water? I myself have a thirst near equal to theirs." He said, motioning to the two escaped slaves.

 

Looking to the half elf who questioned him, the half-orc smirked at her. "I don't owe them anything, but I imagine someone might be grateful for their return, and if not, then at the very least, a pointless death was avoided."

[AurianaValoria1]

"They're lucky people," Rhaine remarked to Shalena before gesturing to the piratess, "Captain, if you would...I need to speak with you in private." She then pointed to the same side corridor where she had spoken with Conall a few minutes earlier. The werewolf paladin himself was watching the half-orc closely, but he otherwise said nothing. Zorica did the same, still wincing a bit with general discomfort.

 

Menarses clapped for his servants to bring the newcomer water, and they promptly responded, a full pitcher of it being brought and offered to the half-orc. As they did so, he mused aloud, "Hmm...perhaps they would be more valuable overall if they stayed here..."

[Deleted6317247User]

Shalena was surprised to hear that Rhaine wished to speak to her. She couldn't recall stealing anything particularly important yet, nor did she see anyone noticing her doing that. "Of course." The piratess said as she got up from her seat and followed the Doomguide in to the corridor.

 

"What's up? She asked once they both stood in the hallway. "My crew been causing trouble? Didn't hear anyone complaining about them, and I'm always the first to hear if they do." The piratess then shot a glance at Rhaine and grinned. "Or did you want to ask for some tips on dancing and were too embarrassed to ask in front of everyone?" She asked with a chuckle.

Edited December 5, 2014 by Guest