Tales By The Fire

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  Nica's Secret Diary
  • Karnivor

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  "Marked. Experiences leave their mark, bangs and bruises from the impact of the events that shape our lives. Some cause but a light bump, healing seamlessly, others cut to the bone, leaving you forever altered in their wake. The analogy, on second thought, is perhaps faulty for likening experience to injury when in fact it also enriches us - but I can't help but think back to Ragnhild and the scars she wore so proudly, shimmering, jagged lines criss-crossing her skin. A childhood memory, though I cannot say whether it's my own or a story told and retold, swims up to my mind's eye: Siri on Ragnhild's one leg, me on the other, nagging for stories. 'This one…' My chubby pink finger pokes the large diagonal scar across my grandmother's muscular thigh. I frown, bite my lip before asking. 'What hurt you?' Ragnhild looks down, that wolfish wild grin turned soft and warm. 'Hurt is just of moment, little wolf. Scar is not mark of pain, is there to remind of victory, of life and learn, of honour and strength - both mine and those who fight me. You see scars and think oww, poor Ragnhild? I see scars and think hah! I fight worthy foe and live to tell tale! That one, frost giant. Big one, chase tribesman when we both new and green, almost kill him - but I get in way, put spear in giant's foot! And then... then he KILL ME!' Gasps from Siri and me, eyes round with horror, but Ragnhild just grins, bouncing my sister and me on those strong legs until we giggle. 'I see not pain or death when I look at scar - I see tribesman, living, I see Glognar and barrel of ale after. Is when we first become friends, and for this scar, they make me honourary dwarf in giant fighting group! All these things, I see in scar. And that's why is beautiful.' Ragnhild wore all her scars with pride, displayed for the world to see. My mother, I think, carries all of her scars on the inside. I wonder what hurt she harbours there, which regrets? Her eyes are so heavy and so distant at times, yet even I can catch but a glimpse of that secret sorrowful Lycka that she hides from the world. Dad is more obviously marked, with his one black eye, his limp and his darkened scars, inside and out. He's easier to comfort, and be comforted by, perhaps because he's not afraid to acknowledge those things, and never hides behind supposed cheer. Then again, I suppose I was always sort of daddy's girl. I've chosen to take on a few marks of my own, to honour my heritage - not scars, as I know my parents would struggle to see past whatever put them there. Added to my tribal tattoes, I now wear a pale wolf on my forearm, beautifully outlined against an indigo sky. She looks up to the half-moon and stars above, as though seeking some mystery. The ink holds a secret, magic which can be activated at will. It glows blue and the moon turns full - while the wolf transforms to a werewolf, howling! The magic courses through me but briefly, yet makes me feel connected to my roots. For a moment, I'm a huntress, stalking through a frozen forest. I'm the howl that calls the pack, calms the panicked pup. Something about the tattoo brings to mind both my grandmother and my father, and I can't help but marvel that a complete stranger at a magic fair could create something so befitting. I wonder if I'm marked in other, less tangible ways, from the Huntmaster's tale. I have undeniably grown and learnt from the experience; I feel stronger but also just a little harder. I think of Vash't and I wonder if he will love me just the same, when perhaps I am no longer quite the same? I think of Vash't and the marks he bears himself, so cruelly changed by the past he now has to face. So many knots to untangle that I would rather leave it be, I'd rather he was simply ~here~ than him trying to change a single thing for me. Someone said I am much like a second chance though, for Vash't. Someone to start over with, someone to make him feel young again, free from everything that went wrong before. In that light, I suppose he really has to deal with any ties that still bind him to that past. I should be patient; I ~will~ be patient, though every day, week and month that pass sees new experience making its mark upon us. Will we be richer for it, reunite with fresh ardour and a thousand stories to tell - or will we bear such unfamiliar marks that we might as well be strangers to each other?"
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  Collecting thoughts - Chea's observations
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  Potions, Balms, Herbs, … Dear Journal, there are potions, there are balms. potions are used by drinking, it takes a very small amount of time for someone acquainted to strange tastes. balms are applied to body parts, take a longer while … even if they sink through clothing. i do not remember seeing any other balm than healing one, while potions can have many effects, not only healing. both potions & balms are affected by wild magic & null magic zones, if i am not wrong - that's where mundane herbs & healing kits come useful. i admit i know a little about treating wounds with bandages & herbs, but am not to be compared with Expert Healers as for example Elena Arguyle-Nightsbrooke can be. -- Yours, Chea Allin, an Adventuress & a Mage.
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  Magical training
  • destinysdesire1

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  The hand writing is slower and much calmer then the last entry I have been spending much time with my husband discussing the properties of enchanting magics, since he does a lot of enchantments. The process is possible yet will be difficult to learn but he is a good teacher and very patient with me. He has advised me how to continue my studies and some books that I will need to look at to benefit my training, he has one I need to get from him yet.
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  María's return
  • Gonnar

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  Shallyah's Passing
  • Robyn

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  Unsorted texts, excerpts and notes of the life of a Red Pawn
  • Katharina

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  […]_in that moment, as her axe's blade was embedded into the moldy stone floor of the defiled burial chambers, she knew that was it. There had been so many close calls. So many times that it could have happened. Perhaps it could have been avoided at this time too. But it did not matter anymore. She could feel her axe, made with the remains of the gentle rock giant that had been her ally, send warming thoughts to her. A nod of approval. She was about to do for her allies what Rocky once did for her. It was only just. Everything happened between two heartbeats, but to her, it seemed eternal. Her mind flashed as she saw a child with a battleaxe in the Vaasan tundra, chasing fruitlessly wild deers and boars under the summer sun. A child so innocent, yet one that had to become adult too soon, because there was no time for games in her life. Shallyah saw then a young warrioress that could barely speak the common tongue with a strong nordic accent, a girl so flawed and secluded into her own thoughts, wearing a bare-legged armor as she arrived to a port city in northern Narfell, looking for a place to belong. That young girl grew, learned about combat, and learned about life. The introvert, walled-in girl matured, opened up. She forged alliances based on friendship with human, dwarf and elf alike. With lizardman and dragon too. She forged with them bonds of unquavering trust. And she found a love so true that she refused to call it love, because she saw what others called love, and she thought that what she felt was, unlike love, pure and flawless. By then, the child that chased deers fruitlessly through the Vaasan tundra had become a legend in the battleground. She had been known for taking the life of bugbears or duergar in one single swing of her axe, or for intimidating a balor demon back into the Abyss under the threat of meeting her steel, or for cutting down another balor demon that refused to be intimidated in the time that it takes for a stork to flap its wings. But this was no balor demon she was up against. She had known no fear in battle, not because she was brave, but because she believed in what she did. Because she did what is right. And in this last, fleeting episode of her mortal life, she felt she was doing what she had to. Shallyah felt the deepest pain she had ever felt, not in her body, even as her lifeforce was waning. The pain was in her heart. She wished she could tell Walter. Just a goodbye. Just a last hug. A last nod of complicity. The sting in her heart left her breathless as she wished for more time. But there was no time. The fierce roar of the Goristro demon deafened her, barely letting her hear the distant voices of her allies, calling out. They would be the first ones to suffer the catastrophe that was brought before them as more demons were making their way through the Gate. No, she could not let the Goristro demon through, to bring unfathomable havoc and destruction. No, she could not let that Gate remain open, for the demonic armies to step through. No, she could not leave her fallen ally in that place to be feasted upon and profaned and her soul to be eternally tormented. She could see then that there was only one choice she could make. In her eyes, everything became clear. Veteran soldier dies. Everyone else lives. Fair trade._
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  Letters sent to Rathal Evanara of the Temple of Corellon
  • Hopeofthefallen

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  To: Cormiira Rathal Evanara While I do not send a letter on an artifact, I send a progress report instead on a mission I have recently finished in the human lands. We have been at war with the gnolls, for some time it seems and today it came to a conclusion. We fought a beast known as Thrice Born and for the better part, no one knew what that meant. We did when killed it though and raised back up as a demon and dragged down General Del'rosa into the hells. Myself and Faernsuora Raryldor were the first through the portal to get to him. Once I began to realize where we were, I settled myself on the risks I may never get back alive. We set out to the north in search of the General and found some Quasit's blocking out path, they were simple enough to deal with and we moved on. It was the seemingly demon gnolls that too down three of our numbers, one sadly was an elf named Alvaniel, she fell with great honor trying to draw a gnoll off of a hin named Martoushca. The human named Shannon declared then and there that we were turning back….meaning that we were abandoning the General down in the hells to what ever his fate may be. I refused right then and there to leave without him. The Father would never forgive me abandoning a comrade and I had already known I might not make it back alive. He asked what to do with the fallen and I gave him the only answer I could, either take them back himself if he was stuck on leaving, or carry them along, either way I wasn't leaving without General Del'rosa. We pushed on a bit further and after killing some ugly demon mutts we found the General and Thrice Born, the others keeping the beast off me I rushed to the Generals side and healed him enough to be moved and picked him up rushing to leave. The others had taken down thrice born by this point and we made to leave as something else howled shaking the hells itself. We all did the only thing we could do, flee the hells and get the General back out safely. When we got back through the portal five gnolls were waiting for us, I moved the general away and guarded over him as he remained unconscious during the battles. As the others prepped to close the portal a giant hand ripped through followed by a female demonic laugh and the demon groaning and vanishing back through. We rushed back to the War camp and while the others focused on reviving and tending the fallen, I brought the General up to the designated healing tents and laid him out so I could tend his wounds. He woke at this point asking me if we had won the day to which I told him we had as I channeled all of the Fathers healing into his to address the burns and wounds he had sustained down there. He told me then he was very tired though I forbade him from dying just in case. Once healed I left him to rest and went back to check on the others to see them all alive and well. Bless the Father who was surely with us in the hells to see our mission a success. Signed: Faerna Bael'Enver.
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  The Songs of Romulus
  • AubreyMaturin

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  The Tale of Rass and Penny I first heard this tale from a Romani storyteller named Riselle. In light of the reported return of Rass to Narfell, it deserved being cast into verse. _An ancient red dragon named Rass, once haunted the Nars Pass. A sometime Eastlander ally, she lived in cave in Nars Valley. Cunning and fierce, she hunted cattle and men from the air. But spent most of her time asleep in her lair. A young bard named Penny came to Peltarch, With pink hair, she danced in the park. Like many young girls with a secret wish. She had a serious dragon crush. Then an earthquake struck Narfell one day. Ground shook, rocks fell, and trees swayed. From Rass’s cave, loud bellowing was heard But no dragon came out into the world. “Maybe Rass’s hurt!”Penny cried. Most others hoped that she’d died. As adventurers do, they had a big spat While trying to decide what to do. Penny sought others for a quest. She wanted to search the cave as a guest. She had a good ally who supported her A cleric of Kossuth named Terrick. Several others agreed to go along. But their desire to help the dragon was not strong. What they wanted most of all Was to kill Rass and get their hands on her hoard. Penny’s view prevailed in the end. Her party entered the cave near the bridge. Through traps and turns she called Rass’s name Till at last they came to a chamber. Rass was alive and loudly bellowed, But her body was mostly immobile. Pinned to the ground by a large fallen rock, She only could swivel her shoulder. That was enough to heighten the risk. If they entered she could burn them to a crisp. So they hung back in the tunnel and argued again, They had to come up with a plan. Penny ardently argued for talking, And to help Rass survive by them helping. The others agreed to let Rass go free, If she gave each of them a reward. Penny who could speak in draconic, Greeted Rass and explained the exchange. For herself and for Terrick all they wanted Was to spend a week with Rass talking. The others each asked for an item A magical weapon, armor, or talisman. Rass listened to all with a cunning smile, But one elf hung in the back and said nothing. Called forth at last for his request This elf Sy’wyn asked nothing for himself Except that Rass promise on her honor Not to harm them after she was free. Rass was cunning and shrewd. Her smile indicated she had thought of that. She agreed in the end, but held some of it back Raryldor did not get mythril armor. Then with much grunting and exerting, The party lifted the rock from her tail. Since for dragons honor still counts, She let Sy’wyn ride away on her back._
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  Random thoughts of Salin Ashald
  • MCPlay

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  "Leadership". Sometimes I wonder about this word. What does it mean to be a Leader? As I look around me, leadership these days has been leaving something to be desired. Peltarch's senate is being accused of ignoring the farmers' plea to till the lands south of Peltarch, following Chauntea's blessing of the fields during Greengrass, 3 years ago. Also, María of all people has been charged with attacking a civilian in the commons and has been removed from her position as senator and sentenced to remain within the War Camp. To the south, the chancellor is being accused of ignoring the whole of Norwick's situation, as they have yet to acknowledge the current threat of gnolls that escalated in the pass. About this, some have approached me, beckoning me to do something about the situation in Norwick, to lead the town as chancellor. I never had any intentions of ruling anything, nor am I a poltician. So what should I do? Regarding Norwick, I'm unsure the leadership is actively ignoring the situation, or simply choosing to remain behind closed doors and making preparations. But I fear that inquiry over it will only result in turmoil, which is precisely what we don't need at this time. On the other side of things, Uljas has been rallying the commoners, teaching them how to defend themselves. It won't be enough to stop the gnolls if they decide to march upon our gates, but it surely can make the difference when we consider the raumviri forces and the rest of the militia. Eilonna, who had been given power over the militia, immediately evacuated the population to the temple of Kelemvor. A hasty decision that could have cost many a life, because if the refugees had not been lead back to Norwick a few days later, they would have been attacked by Ice trolls coming from the other side of the Scar. An attack that a small party, comprised of myself, Willow, Jimmeh, Shesarai and others fended off with some effort. Taking the fight to them, we encountered an odd creature, seemingly made of ice who told us to back off. The trolls were simply hungry and they had sensed the source of food near the kelemvorite temple. After we exchanged a few words, Shesarai saw fit to tell the icy creature that both myself and Jimmeh were fire wielders, which prompted her to become hostile, expelling us from her lands. But not before she told us of an Ice Hag, who could perhaps help convince the trolls not to attack us any further. We were about to return to regroup and seek the hag, when she appeared before us next to the crossing. She seemed to agree with our terms, though she asked for something in return. Once we questioned he for her price, however… Well, she requested me. For one night. We stared incredulous at each other, but then Jimmeh saw fit to close the deal without consulting anyone else. I was dumbstruck. Both because Jimmeh had just sold me off as a slave, and because I saw her approach, growing ever closer. I tried to keep her at bay, but I was simply shocked beyond reaction. She swung me over her shoulders and off she went, the rest of them chasing after the rather fast hag. By the entrance of old Jiyyd, a multitude of fire arrows hit the hag, causing me to plummet to the ground in a rather hopeless position. As I got up, the ice creature returned, again sending us away with increased aggressiveness, due to the hag's death by our hands. I don't know what might happen next, but surely I won't be going with Jimmeh to any other situations where negotiations might take place... Unless he is properly restrained first. But all of that to say... All these people made decisions. The senate decided to ignore the farmers. The chancellor decided to ignore the gnolls. Eilonna decided to evacuate the people and Uljas decided to train them. Jimmeh decided to sell me off and María decided to attack that person. That is what being a leader is about: making decisions with the potential to severely and directly affect the fates of countless others. But all around, I see reckless decisions being made, whether through action or inaction of those who have the duty to ponder the welfare of the people before anything else. Honestly, in all of this, the only person that actually made anything positive, is Uljas. On the other hand, in these difficult times, unity is of the utmost importance, and anything that can be perceived as a threat to the establishment will cause unwanted rifts that would be more harmful than whatever poor decisions those in power can make. All would be so much easier if Norwick had a system of periodic elections. But that is a fight for another day, I suppose.
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  Anna Blake - Reflections of a Chauntean Priestess
  • Mooncandies

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  From a whisper to an avalanche, looks like my work is paying off. Things have been quiet lately on the orc front, and while the gnolls continue to pose a threat, and at the very least are a nuisance, I finally have had time to work on my own projects as a priestess. I am currently working with Yllalynn as well as others on studies of botany, and I'm trying to replicate the effect of the 'sin berries' healing affect on people, though taking a more somewhat natural approach to it. The results so far have showed some promise, as I have taken divine infused soil, as well as clippings from a raspberry and grafted them onto a blue berry. Along with some incantations the saplings are doing well enough. The only problem right now as since the earth and plant has been infused with divine energy in a permanent fashion, its been slightly taxing. Nor can I actually speed their growth since I need them to absorb as much nutrients and healing energies as possible. I will be calling it the Bhallaberry in respects to the grain goddess, both as a committed servant, and testament to our capacity for agriculture. Sadly, I estimate the costs will be a few coin higher per berry than the sin berries, but for those who do not want to consume something so vile, this will be a great alternative. I have become a defender as well since my last writing now, and even if I'm a recruit, I feel I am making leaps and bounds in both my ability to show initiative. I am glad to be able to do what is needed to protect our city, as well as feel needed by troops who give their very lives to protect our home.
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  Cray Vincint's stories:
  • Guest

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  This is a true story that happened in game several years ago… _Many decades ago, in old Norwick Cray was donned in his fancy wiggler robes, smoking a cigar, hanging by the south fire, waiting for an opportunity for coin. A lone but powerful Goblin Assassin began to harass the South Gates, in a hit and run style. Several adventures had sprang up from their seats by the fire to chase this Goblin around. Cray saw that this was hardly a worth while endeavour considering the amount of competition. Cray simply shuffled outside the gates with his stogie in hand, to be entertained as a crowd chases this elusive and wily assassin around the woods. As Cray leans on a tree swirling fine tobacco smoke around in his mouth, calm as a hindu cow. His eyes suddenly widen and his lips pucker, as he feels a sharp poke against his testicles… A small voice exclaims from beneath his robes, "It's your jewels or your jewels, if you catch my drift..." Cray making the prudent choice, swiftly bends down and hands a decent sized sack of coin under his robes. Cray didn't give up all his coins of course, just the right amount to satisfy a Goblin and to ensure the safety of his own reproductive organs. Once the Goblin has the coins in hand, he asks "Gimme a reason not to kill you...?" Cray replies simply, "Because I'm useful." The Goblin quizzically, "How's that?" Cray quickly rebuts, "I'll bring you a cow to feed your army." The Goblin asks in disbelief, "You have a cow?" Cray says, "No, the farmer in town has one that I can steal." The Goblin seems suspicious, "How are you going to manage that?" Cray with easy confidence says, "I'm a wizard, I can make the cow invisible and stroll right out the gates." The Goblin assassin accepts Cray's offer and removes the blade from his genitals. Before sneaking off, the assassin threatens Cray that he better make good on his word and to bring the cow to the Goblin cave. Cray saunters back into Norwick and heads straight for farmer Fine's ranch. He ducks into an alley along the way and after a quick spell, steps out invisible from the other end. Cray prepares his rope and walks up next to one of the cows. Cray throws a loop of rope around the cow's neck and casts invisibility on the cow. He then walks the cow to the south gate. Upon arriving at the south fire, Cray envisions the gates as though they are the light at the end of the tunnel. Much to Cray's delight, the gates are open and everyone is sat snugly round the fire. Cray is almost home free, but suddenly farmer Fine runs up to the south fire exclaiming that one of his cows has been stolen. About a dozen adventurers instantly hop up and fan out from the fire. Cray is able to maneuver and zig zag between them all, and scurry safely off into the Rawlinswood. That was a close call. Upon arriving in the Goblin cave, the assassin is there to greet Cray and take possession of the cow. The assassin slits the cows throat right away, and then begins to butcher the animal with precision. The assassin asks Cray if he brought any sauce. Cray was like "Sauce!?" The assassin replied as though its a no brainer, "Ya sauce!" Cray had no sauce, but he was able to offer the assassin several cloves of garlic, which seemed to smooth things over. As the assassin butchered the cow, Cray used the opportunity to talk business. As a successful weapons dealer at the time, Cray began to pitch to the assassin that the Goblins should be purchasing their weapons and arms through him. The assassin was receptive to Cray's sales pitch, and it seemed some sort of arrangement would be reached. As fate would have it. A random adventurer happened into the cave, to observe Cray consorting with the assassin. This adventurer swiftly dispatched the assassin with a chop to the head. Cray used this moment to cast a spell and make good his escape. As he fled he chuckled as he could hear the adventurer screaming, "Cray!" The end._
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  History of Trent Lormain
  • destinysdesire1

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  Many years had passed since the old Hoarite had landed in Peltarch, many more would pass as he awaited his death as well. In the meantime though he would have to find something other then killing to pass his time, after all, one can only do so much vengeance without becoming lost in the vengeance themselves. Instead he decided he would take up the magical study. It was a very long and boring start, finding books on magic were not such a common place thing after all. Though over a good bit of time and hunting from different libraries and talking to random people, he eventually found a beginners guide to Wizardry. Simple cantrips and such were fairly easy to pick up and were great for starting on. The light spell quickly proved to be a close favorite as he began to go through the different types of magic. Abjuration: A useful skill for a warrior and a valuable one for one that doesn't like to take damage…it would be very useful as a prime lesson. Conjuration: The ability to summon monsters to fight for me...eh...I'm not a druid and knowing my luck..I wouldn't like what I summoned....and besides, I probably wouldn't like what I would wind up summoning.... Divination: Isn't that what seers use to see into the future and crap? No thanks! Enchantment: hmm....controlling people....yea no...not unless I wanna remember Thay and the Shadowvar..... Evocation: Blowing things up...now that sounds fun!! Illusion: Gods no....I hate pretend crap! Necromancy: You couldn't pay me enough to study that crap! Transmutation: hmm....shifting myself into something else...that could be fun....being a huge red dragon or something! Sitting on the bench as he skimmed the spells he found quickly he became more attached to Abjuration but at the cost of Conjuration, no real loss to himself, deciding to focus on that study specifically he made his way down to Norwick having long heard of the Arcane Tower by the lake and began to question random people about who would run such a tower. Soon learning of Maria and knowing from past information that she was on Peltarchs Senate he made his way back to Peltarch. Finding Maria soon proved an easy task as he met her in the commons and asked her about the school. She told him bits and pieces and informed him that acceptance was a touchy thing and that he would be required to send her a letter of introduction. He agreed and left her to her work before getting down to sending her the letter. Then he set back to training and waiting. Sadly as he came to realize, his training from the past was not compatible with the future training and he would have to choose between one and the other. A choice soon made as he stripped off his plate and gear before handing it over to a nearby hin and prayed to Hoar to forgive him his choice, he felt he needed to take this path for his own sanity as much as a new chapter in his life. Days later he was seen in cloth clothing rather then his plate and a mages staff as he set on the road to learning. It would be a long road indeed, but when you don't age, what besides time do you have?
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  Whatson's Fiddle.
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  Wound not Diseased. Dear Fiddlebag, wound is diseased not, i think. i was wounded several times during my short human life so far. no too great hallucinations, no burns or festers around the wounds. if neccessary i'll go to a Temple of Chauntea that is not far from Norwick's Grapevine Inn, perhaps they will cast proper spell if i pay. .. sometimes they do it for free even, i heard. there's a risk of them casting the spell wrong way however, they say. – Yours, Whatson Fiddle, a bard wannabe.
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  The Yarn of Kima Falstaff
  • StCroix

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  We find Kima Falstaff tucked away at the Bard College, seemingly not the same bright-eyes bushy tailed as when she first stepped foot in Narfell. I have been so lax in my writing, I used to fill page after page, but now times have changed… but the silver spoon is definitely gone. The things I have seen in the last few months show how good I really had it back home. I rarely think of home anymore because it is all gone, and I have my hands filled trying to stay alive. The adventurers here are amazing. They face death each and every day and they do so willingly. It is nothing to them. They grab their swords, ready their spells without a second thought. I have seen gnolls, hobgoblins, umberhulks, orcs, ogres and the list goes on. I have only seen just a little of the lands, but my eyes are wide open. One must always be on guard when leaving the safety of Norwick or Peltarch. With these new dangers I have meet so many whom I can call friend, mentor or just a sell sword. I also have seem to have a talent for singing, and here I was always self-conscious of myself in public, but here no one cares. I performed for a group in Peltarch recently it was for one of the Masters at the Bard College Master Lycka… instead of worrying about how nervous I was… I just let the music flow… and flow it did…. With the performance I was accepted into the college… which is great news… they have a huge library, huge theater… and my own room. No more listening to that infernal racket at the Norwick Inn at all hours of the night. I have even been asked to start to perform at the Mermaid a few times a week… why not a little extra coin in the pocket is better than a hole. It is funny that I am also learning a trade… an Elf named Elessar has taking me under his wing and taught me the basics of hunting, skinning, cooking and overall tanning of hides. I met with one of the masters of the Crafter¢s Union by the name ¡Z¢ and I am beginning an apprenticeship there as well. And here I thought I would struggle to fit in… just the opposite has happened… accepted and welcomed and even protected. I have shared my tale of escaping Neverwinter and the possibility of being pursued… I do believe that will not happen now and if it does I will be more than protected or even in time be able to take care of it myself… that would be something in time… revenge… I have been looking toward Oghma for some guidance, but as father always told me… “they hear ya lass, but sometimes it is better to be under their vision instead of the focus of it.” He always had little sayings for such occasions. As for now, I accept my positions with the college and union, but have had several other offers that must be contemplated… I did meet a rather impressive bard named Romulus, he is in charge of the Legion and we did speak of the possibilities, even though he was a scout… which I could never be… I can honestly say sneaking is not something I can ever do… clumsy is more like it…but it was good to hear of the Legion. He offered a tour sometime, so I will, just to see the tower. I look at it every time I travel past it… Well I am prattling on when I should be reading one of the books in the college.. she closes her journal, puts her quill down and opens one of the books from the Bardic Library.. Just the beginning of another new adventure.
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  Journal of Ozi agent of Mystra
  • ozzy

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  Llewelyn's Conjured Thoughts.
  • Attentus

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  Various Tales
  • Fonic

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  I stumbled across these just now. They were written and performed by Kamilah and should exist in the bard forums somewhere, although I don't have access anymore :lol: The Summoning Hastily written after Kamilah mistakenly took some drug (whose name I forget) that made her really, really angry. Hence the bloodstains. One Knight In Selgaunt
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  Cirden Ev'Riana, Bon Shaman, Snake Spirit Protector.
  • Attentus

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  Goals (might be updated). 1. Find Chalice of Yuirwood. 2. Protect Snake Spirit of Oscura. 3. Complete Bard Training, and not only basics (Yarting, Poetry, Dance, Song, Mime, Acting, Stage Magics). 4. Small Tribute to Godess of Wealth, Waukeen. 5. Learn 'Charm Person', 'Mage Armour', 'Identify', 'Cat's Grace' and 'Eagle's Splendor' Bard's Spells. 6. Get item enchanted thanks to which 2nd circle bard spells can be cast. (in this order of priority).
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  Kristelles confession to her father
  • Moon

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  Dear Father, Its been a while since I wrote to you, but here what has happened: Elvira is back! That made me happy and Jonnie too as it was the first thing he told me when I walked into the commons some weeks back. I havent had lots of time to catch up with her though, however, one day she and a party stumbled into Peltarch, some of them badly wounded. I rushed to aid Elvira, but she clearly didnt want my help. At first I backed off… but seeing her so obviously in pain.. was too much for me so I asked for Lurue's help to seal her wounds. Suddenly, Elvira drew her sword at me. I didnt understand her strange behavior towards me. This is so unlike her. I asked her what was wrong. Ofcourse she couldnt tell me nor write it to me with her blade in her hand. Jonnie had to step inbetween us, he said my healing was an assault. Luckily brother Kris was close by... he shouted at me to just leave it... so I did. Mother has told me to care for those that need careing never did I think a friend would draw a blade at me. Lesson learned, never again help someone that doesnt want to be helped. Odd... but what can I do? Oh, I bought an impala... his name is Vlad. He keeps me company while my brother isnt around. He is a tame deer. I bought him from a half orc. Jimmeh the mage gnome wanted to buy him too.. but I think he wanted to make dinner of him so I payed 500 coin for him. Thats like 1/3 of all the gold I have. I let him loose in the nars to run free. It is now when the teaching of different animals sound you taught me when I was little really is useful. As soon I step out from the south gate from Peltarch I make this coughing barking almost howling sound and Vlad comes running out from the woods greeting me. It is nice to have a close friend other than my brother even if it is Vlad the Impala. Now to a more serious topic. Twice now I have stumbled upon a vampire in the sewer. The first time I was with my brother in the barrows, I didnt remember much from that incident as I got charmed. Kris told me everything afterwards, the second time was in the sewers. This time he did not use his charming skills on me. I was so glad I had my helm on, so he couldnt see my pale face and eyes wide open in terror like a trapped animal. From some unbelievable force, my faith is strong and perhaps it was Lurues presence giving me the strength and will needed to stand against him, and to challenge his wit. He was speaking of excitement, possibly sharing it, but I returned his offer with unconcern and the promotion of myself as dull, mundane and uninteresting charchter that I in fact am. The only match I have to his interest is that I have never even kissed a man, but that should be levelled out by the fact that I am no noble. You once told me that vampires holds a special interest in nobles and virgins. I guess he finally got bored... and left me alone... Father I have never been so afraid in my whole life. As he vanished in the dark narrow corridors I ran as fast as I could back up, through the dock and straight to the safe, warm familiar Mermaid. Kris is convinced I need to see a cleric, or to take a bath in holy water or something, but I told him I am alright. Your daughter Kristelle
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  Silence [Elvira Blakely]
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  XIII The cold cave wall against her back made Elvira cuddle more against the soft cloak wrapped around her. She was grateful for this place, which had been introduced to her as a possible safe haven. She rubbed her eyes and tightened her hold on the cloak. The thought… it floated around in her head. Made her angry. She didn't get angry. At least, she did not want to believe she could. The idea seemed like someone else's. Since when did you began to need other people's help? Elvira shivered and turned around so she was resting on her back. She stared up, towards the ceiling of the cave. A small crack was visible between two rocky bumps. Perhaps the cave would collapse, crumble down like a child's work of sand after the first tide wave hit the shore. She frowned. The idea was not pleasant. So, what else is new? The thought was fleeting and quick, but Elvira managed to catch it. She couldn't stop the first thought entering her mind: The Raven. It had been a bumpy ride, through storm and death one could even say. Death quite literally, with that ghostly ship and its rather boney inhabitants She didn't know whether she should feel good or bad about the fact that it made her feel alive. A smile spread on her lips. Good, she decided. Or was forced to decide, since she couldn't specifically find a real reason to feel bad about it. Tired, that's what she was. It had been a long day, and her eyes were hurting again. Elvira turned to her side in an attempt to crawl over and extinguish the fire, only to find the remains of the charred up logs still burning dimly in their orange flames.