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Enly

Portland Tavern

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{OOC}Ok... here goes nothing ;) though this roleplay is born of this thread, anyone is still welcome to join!{/OOC}

 

Enly fidgeted nervously and pulled her hood lower over her head as she glanced around. No one was looking at her, yet she had that spooky feeling someone was. The dark brown hood and cloak completely shrouded her gleaming blue hair and green draegoni horns. Leather gloves and a brown tunic hid the scales on her arms and hands, yet she couldn't mask the ones on her cheeks. Bending her head lower she walked to the front of the tavern. She pushed the door open gently.

 

The tavern was loud and boisterous, as could be expected of any such place. The faint light of the sunlight filtering in the windows was beginning to fade, and no doubt lanterns would be produced soon, and candles lit. As Enly moved quickly to the back of the tavern she glanced around at the various people. They were all laughing, talking, drinking. Foregoing the opportunity to finally have a drink to quench her thirst Enly sat down in a corner, as far away from the people as possible. A couple had glanced at her as she entered, but few took much notice. She was just another weary travel passing through the port city.

 

Portland had so many visitors from across the lands Enly had no doubt that she'd blend in easy enough. Still, she didn't want to be noticed any more than needed. Scanning the tavern's people again she looked for someone. The barkeep was serving drinks to a pair of dwarves sitting at the bar. There was a table full of humans, an orchan arguing with a draegoni. A gnome sat smiling by the fire, smoking a pipe. Enly could hear him excitedly explaining the mechanics of mine to a young human boy.

 

Finally her eyes rested for a few moments on a two figures seated near the back door. She discreetly watched them for a few moments, before eventually deciding neither was the one she was looking for. Cursing him silently in her mind she settled back in her chair. He'd be here soon enough... she hoped.

 

She waited until the sun completely set outside, still no sign of him. Frustrated she watched the people of the tavern, listening absently to the gnome, before switching her focus to the conversation of the orchan and draegoni. It was difficult to pick out what anyone else was saying over any of the other noise, but she could read the lips of a few that were facing her. And the dwarves at the bar kept raising their voices loud enough for all to hear.

 

Enly slipped a hand into her pocket, and wrapped her cold fingers around the comforting plain smooth stone there. It was still warm to the touch, and kept her spirits up, she'd wait. As long as was necessary.

 

{OOC}ermm... hmm... dunno how to end it exactly, I guess this leaves it open enough for anyone else to jump in with their character :){OOC}

Edited by Enly

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SyWren sat with her back to the wall at the edge of the bar where she could take in the tavern and be sure there were no dangers lurking behind her. Her soft gold eyes and the smudges of mud on the edges of her sleeves seemed to be the only color about her. All else about the elf was white. Her long white hair that always seemed to come loose from it's braid down her back edged out of her white hood and framed her pale skin. Her white cloak, tunic, and skirt had a softness about them from many washings.

 

She fingered the mud at her sleeve and wondered if it were enough to cover the deep crimson spots beneath. She had not yet found the time in this journey to adequately wash her tunic and these dabs of mud would have to do for the time being.

 

With her hood discretely covering her face, SyWren watched the newcomer, a draegoni, come into the tavern. The woman seemed to be looking for someone, and SyWren wondered if this was who had given her the note, but then the draegoni continued scanning the faces around her obviously still looking.

 

When the woman sat down, SyWren felt her leg involuntarily flex as if to ensure the dagger were still safely secured there under the folds of her white skirt. This was reflex from having spent most of her life in a land where any stranger poses a threat. She had seen many good people killed for a common cloak or merely (it sometimes seemed) for pure amusement. An instinct told her this draegoni wasn't dangerous, but her surroundings and the presence of so many strangers had already heightened her senses and made her aware of every movement around her.

 

Perhaps this was why she noticed the newcomer slip her hand into her pocket. From the corner of her eye, she watched the woman's fingers move with the folds of the cloak and again her leg flexed, reminding her of the dagger still there. When the woman pulled her hand from her pocket, SyWren's heart leapt into her throat.

 

The woman had an identical stone to the one SyWren had in her pocket. At first glance, the stone seemed inconspicuous, but she had always found a beauty in the flecks of pinks and roses embedded in the grays and blues, the same pinks and roses in this woman's stone.

 

There must be a connection. She pulled out the note and read it again.

 

"We will meet at dusk at the Portland Tavern on the fourth day of the month of Viasia."

 

No purpose or explanation had been given and the child who delivered it had simply shrugged his shoulders and run away when asked about who had given it to him.

 

Could this draegoni have received a similar note? Why were they there? Who had given her this instruction? Were there others in the tavern with similar notes, perhaps even the same stone? Were others on their way?

 

Curiosity had driven her here, and curiosity reached her hand into the pocket of her cloak and placed the stone on the bar.

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(OOC: It's been quite a while since I've written, or roleplayed :D I hope it doesn't sound too bad :D)

 

Leaning on his wooden staff, he looked up at the building which stood before him. A weary smile, that was barely visible under his red hood, appeared. He had finally made it to the tavern. The soft light which shone upon him when he turned his gaze to the moons highlighted the lines on his face, giving away his elderly age. Carefully examining the two moons -the smile instantly fading away from his face- he whispered to himself, "The final night before the signs change . . . before-"

 

His thoughts were interrupted by loud roars and a scream which came from within the tavern. Ignoring the pain from his frail legs he hurried to the entrance, his wooden staff aiding him. He pushed the tavern's door open to find a group of people crammed up around a table. No one had noticed his entrance. He quickly scanned the room. An elven woman dressed in white who had a lethal dagger in her hand was standing on the bar, blood dripping from the blade. A dead body laid close by her. Some dwarves were watching, laughing their beards off in the other corner, one was pointing at a lady opposite them. His eyes went to the lady, then to her pocket which was being guarded with her hands, it must be her, he thought. His eyes then went to the tall orchan that had his arms wrapped around the lady; one arm around her neck, the other trying to reach into her pocket. He must have seen it.

 

He stretched his left hand out towards the orchan and started whispering words of magic which made the tip of his wooden staff glow bright blue. It was then that most of the crowd noticed that a mage had entered the tavern. His grey hair rose as he swivelled his staff around him. He finally pointed the tip at the orchan and finished his sentence. A burst of light shot directly out at the orchan just as he let go of the woman, sending him straight to the tavern wall, leaving him unconscious.

 

The room was silent. All eyes were on him. He lowered his staff and leaned on it, breathing heavily. "It's Cain!" someone gasped, and went running out of the tavern.

 

He slowly made his way to the lady, who still seemed to be in shock. "Back to your businesses!" he yelled. Everyone resumed their eating, talking and drinking, but it wasn't hard to see the occasional glances that came towards him. He beckoned the woman to sit down, he could clearly tell she was a draegoni from the green scales on her cheek. It took a while for him to recover. "You have it, do you not?" he asked her when he had finally caught his breath. The lady nodded. "Keep it safe and hidden," he said, smiling, "there should be others soon to come." He closed his eyes, "There's at least one other in this tavern, I can feel it."

 

He turned his head around, the white clothed elven woman had been listening to them. She also had her hand securing something in her pocket.

 

 

(OOC: Sorry I had to rush into the tavern :D I hope I didn't ruin anything xD

Ok, we're supposedly waiting for others with stones to arrive? And will the whole RP be going on in the tavern? Because it's a rather small place, and that orchan may wake up any time soon :D)

Edited by Sistema

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Even though the place was crowded and noisy, there was a silence that caught Melisande's attention, a tension piercing the athmosphere, unnoticed by most people present there. She continued softly playing her harp, while softly humming a mysterious melody.

 

She held her eyes closed most of the time, yet she could follow every step of the dance performed by those two women, one of the draegoni race, with hair the color of dark cyan; the other elvish, her skin and hair white as snow, looking fragile yet in her golden eyes laid a touch of danger.

Melisande smiled when she saw how the draegoni woman kept reaching her hand into her pocket, and whilst running her fingers through her long dark red hair, she could hear the sharp rustling of paper as the elf pulled a small crumpled note out and read it thoroughly. Again.

 

Melisande finished the song, and for a moment gazed with her dark amber eyes at the draegoni women, who clearly did her best to go unnoticed. She smiled again when she saw the look on the elf's face when she realised they had a small detail in common, that draegoni and her.

 

"And I will remain in shadows this time." she murmured to herself,

"Watching."

 

She took a small sip of the cup of herb tea she ordered, and continued playing quietly, peeking at the two women from time to time.

 

Melisande's fingers softly touched the small silver necklace she wore, contrasting greatly with her dark blue skin, and she looked into the rosy pink gemstone for the last time, as she left it there, on that small tavern table, and moved to another one, in a shadowy little corner, grinning.

 

She barely arrived at the other small table when suddenly the pale elvish lady stabbed a woman at the bar. The people sank into a state of shock, not really knowing how to react; some screaming loudely, the dwarves laughing, others pointing at her, with their mouth wide open. Quickly a strange man rushed into the tavern, surrounded by an aura of powerful magic. As his eyes wandered across the room, he noticed a woman, next to her an orchan, reaching for something in her pocket.

He frowned and started to whisper magic, making his staff glow. He pointed it at the orchan, and everyone grew silent, yet they stood up and pushed each other a bit to see what was happening.

Melisande was completely mystified by his sudden intervention, and noticed only now that she was playing the same note over and over on her harp.

 

Some moments later the chaos dissolved; and from her little shadowy corner, she glanced at the mage, examining him with a slight shimmer in her eyes.

Edited by Melisande

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{OOC} woot! people are joining in! :D Great, if I can make one personal request though, I'm a little confused on who is who now. I think sistema might have been referring to my character, as he described a draegoni with green scales. Yet Melisande obviously referenced me, then acted as if the 'lady' Sistema identified was a different person... so, not sure where to go from with that :whistle: Despite Melisande's post that suggests it was a different person, I'm going with my first impression from Sistema's post that it was me :P. But my request is that we all try carefully to use the descriptions of each others characters that have already be provided so there isn't confusion?:)

 

And Sistema, in response to your questions, this is just a fairly open roleplay, we're starting it off here in the tavern and seeing where it takes us, there is no predetermined plot whatsoever and we have no idea what everyone else is planning :P So just play off of what others provide and we'll see what happens :D{/OOC}

 

Enly nervously watched the people around her in the tavern. This was getting to be to much, she was far to tense, afraid, something was not right. For her own peace of mind she slowly drew the stone from her pocket and clutched it in her hands. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, calming herself. After a few moments she opened her eyes again. She quickly glanced around, then locked eyes with an orchan near the bar, he'd seen the stone. Shoving it in her pocket Enly ran her fingers over the knife in her belt, then felt for the pouch hidden by her cloak that contained her essences, they were still there. If need be she could cast a spell, but she didn't want to, and she most definitely didn't want her knife out.

 

The orchan had looked away quickly, but Enly knew he had seen her stone. She waited quietly for him to make his move. After several moments, the orchan moved slightly, tipping his neighbor's glass of ale. The woman angrily started to turn to the orchan. However the orchan stuck his foot out, tripping her and causing her to fall towards an elf on her otherside. The elvish woman, dressed in white besides a few smudges of dirt lashed out quickly and stabbed the woman. As the pale looking elf did so, the orchan moved from the bar towards Enly. He stopped before her smirking slightly. Warily, he seemed to be deciding what to do.

 

Then the tavern door swept open and a newcomer entered, as Enly was distracted for a few moments, the orchan grabbed her and wrapped an arm around her neck, then tried to fish into her pocket in search of the stone. Frantic, Enly whispered a few words of magic, the stone in her pocket grew hot against her side as the orchan touched it, and he hissed pulling back. Enly tried to stay calm as she felt several of the essences in her pouch fade, they'd been draw into the spell and used, she had few left.

 

Thankfully she did not need to use more magic, the grey haired figure that had entered the tavern approached with his staff, and used a spell to attack the orchan. The mage then approached her.

 

"You have it, do you not?" he asked her when he had finally caught his breath. Enly nodded. "Keep it safe and hidden," he said, smiling, "there should be others soon to come." He closed his eyes, "There's at least one other in this tavern, I can feel it."

 

The man moved away and Enly tried to sink back into her corner. Yet she'd most definitely been noticed by the tavern people now. One of the dwarves at the bar kept staring at her. As she stared back she swore in her mind, he'd been in Morcraven, he'd seen her. It was time for her to leave. Yet she couldn't leave, not yet, not until she'd collected.

 

The quick squabble had flustered her, and the orchan would wake soon. As Enly's mind strayed back, she recalled the note delivered to her while she had still been in Morcraven Marsh, it had told her to come here hadn't it? She searched her mind for what the note had said, now cast aside in the marshy waters of Morcraven. It had instructed her to come here, tonight. Curse the gods, she though to herself, I wasn't going to follow that note, yet here I am anyway.

 

As she pondered this she saw a figure slip in the back door of the tavern. With a sigh of relief she realized it was finally him. He nodded to her and exited again, waiting for her to follow. She slipped out as fast as she could not caring that the other people in the tavern might notice her. She didn't want anything to do with their stones, she'd keep hers safe alright, that was for sure. But the rest of them could deal with their own problems.

Edited by Enly

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Peino Ereonis walked swiftly and purposefully across the square of Portland town towards the Magic Apple Tavern. It was a walk he’d made many, many times in his years of business in this bustling port, usually with a light heart as he looked forward to the greeting and comforts that always awaited him there after a hard day’s work. But tonight was different, for tonight he had yet more business ahead of him -- secret business of a nature he did not yet understand, and that is something Peino of Irsis never liked.

 

And so, the tall, dark Elf strode through the busy crowds, seeming nothing more than another merchant in expensive clothes of blue silk and embroidered leather, a brown cloak covering the long sword on his belt, a broad-brimmed blue plumed hat obscuring his night dark face and the long white hair that fell down his back as he avoided others’ eyes, intent upon his destination. The stone and the note in his jacket pocket drove conflicting feelings within him -- curiosity, nervousness, even a kind of annoyance at this mysterious distraction, as well as at himself for obeying the strange summons at all -- nothing but a scribbled note and a rock handed to him by some dirty Morcraven lout who knew nothing about it himself. Whatever it is, he said to himself, it damn well better be worth it, or someone will pay for wasting my time.

 

As he came within sight of the tavern with the warm light pouring from its windows, he heard what sounded like a drunken brawl within. Rather than walk blindly into whatever was going on, he went around to the back door and slipped in quietly, with his hand upon his sword.

 

He entered just in time to see the fight breaking up. [EDIT: An unconscious Orchan was being dragged into a corner while a few of the locals carried a bleeding woman out of the building.] Everyone was staring and buzzing around two robed figures -- a mage in red, and a tall pale Elf woman in white, whose class and profession were not immediately clear. Hm...interesting..., he thought.

 

As Peino took stock of the scene, two hooded persons slipped out the back door past him. As they brushed by, he met the brief glance of one of them, a young Draegoni woman. Her eyes were wide and nervous, her face flushed. Peino wondered if she needed help, but then she and her companion were gone, and the noise of the tavern resumed its usual roar.

 

The proprietor, Laura, was nearby. Sweeping off his hat and pulling up a seat, Peino called her name.

 

“Lord Peino!” she said with a relieved smile, “Welcome back to Portland! Your usual?”

 

“Yes, please,” Peino replied with a wink and a grin, as Laura pulled a bottle from under the bar and filled a tall tankard with Peino’s private stock of elfen mead.

 

Peino toasted his host and her house, laid down an extra gold coin for friendship, and settled down with the strong honey brew burning his throat and warming the rest of him. Now he could really examine the assembled rogues, laggards, smugglers, and citizens of Portland.

 

Once again, his gaze fell upon the red mage and the white woman. Not part of the usual crowd, these two. And that young Draegoni who had just left, she too did not seem to fit this place. Thinking of the strange smooth stone, and the cryptic note that had brought him here, Peino scanned the room again, looking for more faces that did not seem to belong.

 

 

{EDIT: OOC: Since we're all picking up on Enly's stone thing, how many stones are going to be in this story? Enly?}

 

EDIT #2 to fix story line.

Edited by peino

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(OOC

An elven woman dressed in white who had a lethal dagger in her hand was standing on the bar, blood dripping from the blade. A dead body laid close by her. Some dwarves were watching, laughing their beards off in the other corner, one was pointing at a lady opposite them. His eyes went to the lady, then to her pocket which was being guarded with her hands, it must be her, he thought. His eyes then went to the tall orchan that had his arms wrapped around the lady; one arm around her neck, the other trying to reach into her pocket. He must have seen it.

...

He turned his head around, the white clothed elven woman had been listening to them. She also had her hand securing something in her pocket.

 

I really really thought the orchan was trying to get Enly's stone :devlish:

As they start pointing at a lady opposite to them; afterwards a reference to 'her pocket' so i thought it was about Enly again :P i can edit again if you like :D

 

)

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{OOC} I think its just an issue of character clarity, we just all need to make sure we're perfectly clear on who we're referring to, I think its all fine now.

 

And peino... uhh.... *shrugs* I didn't think everybody else would pick it up :devlish:

{/OOC}

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Steadily, the mood in the tavern recovered from the violent scene that had just played out. Peino, sipping his mead, silently watched the two strangers, the Elf in white and the old mage. They did not speak to each other. Were they not together? Strange, for when Peino had first seen them, he thought they were. Now they moved apart, the Elfen lady calling for a drink, and the mage retiring to a corner stool, slowly like the old man he was. Yet still there was an energy about them. Were they connected after all, in some not obvious way?

 

As Peino thought about this, the pale Elf glanced his way, catching his gaze with her golden eyes. The stare she gave him was challenging, and not in a friendly way. Perhaps the lady’s blade still desired blood. Well, it would not have his tonight. Raising his tankard in salute to her, he looked away and found yet another interested party.

 

Across the room, a dark Elf woman softly strummed a harp and stared at the pale woman with a gaze as sharp as a spear. As Peino focused on her shadowy figure, he realized she was doing just as he was, studying the room, calculating and questioning. He saw her look from the pale woman to the old mage seemingly lost in meditation, to the dwarves whose laughter had begun to fade with drunkenness, and finally towards the door the young Draegoni had left through, and thus at last to him.

 

When their eyes met, she froze for a second, then quickly lowered her eyes and concentrated on her harp. Peino got the feeling she had not wanted to be noticed.

 

How curious, he thought as he drank his mead, here in this ordinary waterfront tavern, a collection of strangers all apparently waiting...but for what, I wonder? Something more dramatic than a knife and magic fight?

 

Just then he noticed the dark-skinned harpist look up sharply. Something had caught her attention. Following her gaze, he saw one of the besotted dwarves raising a gleaming necklace from a table. In the firelight, it flashed a warm pink-ish glow. The lady in white turned to look at the same time. The mage suddenly opened his eyes. Without thinking, Peino moved first. In two steps he was there.

 

“Thanks for finding that, friend,” he said lightly, plucking the necklace from the dwarf’s hand.

 

“Hey! That’s mine!”, cried the dwarf, wobbling a little.

 

“Have this instead,” and Peino shoved a few coins into his hand, the price of another round of ales, and pushed him off in a random direction.

 

The necklace, a delicate piece of elfen work, held a pendant of the same stone he carried in his pocket. It was indentical, in fact, like a matched set -- smooth and pinkish gray, a bit egg-shaped. Nothing much to look at but with an interesting glow to it in the right lights.

 

Knowing that the eyes of all three strangers were on him now, Peino calmly ordered two more tankards of mead from Laura and then stood there a moment and considered who to share them with -- the lethal white lady, the impetuous old mage, the shadowy harpist, or...hm...what had become of the young Draegoni lass, he wondered, for something made him think she had been a part of this ungrouped group.

 

The moment became a minute and another minute after that, as Peino stood considering under the tense eyes of the others. He was waiting for his thoughts to settle into an impulse for him to act on, for the wheel of options spinning in his mind to stop at one. Finally, it did, and Peino turned and threw the elfen necklace across the room, over the heads of the drinkers, into the air between the lady, the mage, and the harpist, and as it flew and they stared at it, he left the Magic Apple by the back door, to go and find that young Draegoni.

 

He left the second tankard of mead on the bar, for whoever might want it. Mead was such a foul brew, he thought as he settled his plumed hat upon his head and stepped out into the damp night, it might yet be waiting for him when he got back.

 

 

{OOC: Can I make a suggestion? Since we're improvising and not working from a story outline, I think we should avoid writing "big" actions for other people -- like Sywren stabbing the woman -- unless we work it out with the other person in advance. Mind you, it was a good scene, but I think we should do our own big actions and let others react to them, and then react to those reactions, etc. Again, unless we work out a scene we want to write with the other person/people first. That way we don't risk going against someone's character.

 

Also, I'm going to go find our thread hostess and bring her back to her party, if I can. :lipssealed:}

Edited by peino

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{OOC} Completely agree on the not doing big things for other characters stuff peino *points at sist* :) I'm just trying to keep consistent with whats given me and move my own character along :lipssealed: {/OOC}

 

A dark clothed human male was waiting outside in the small alley. He pulled back his hood as Enly came out, a polite gesture proving his identity. Heasitantly Enly did the same. He nodded with a smile, now completely certain it was her.

 

"Do you have my pay?" Enly demanded.

 

"Of course, of course," he smiled at her and pulled a small pouch from his pocket, he tossed it to her.

 

Enly caught it and rolled it quietly in her hand, the jangle of coins met her satisfied ears.

 

"I hope you don't plan on pulling more stunts like that En, you're not cut for the life of the likes of me," he said pulling his hood over his head again.

 

"It was a one time deal, I needed the money," Enly sighed. "Plucking off a bastard troublemaker for your boss was fast, easy, and rid the world of one more ruffian."

 

"You be careful around us thieves and ruffians," he winked. "And I just hope I'm not wrong with the boss when you need some quick coin."

 

"You know I'd never..."

 

He cut her off. "I know, I know," he hushed her quietly. "Me and you go back way to far for you to double-cross me. Besides, you've not got the heart to hurt people."

 

"How do you explain that dead man in Morcraven then?" Enly hissed upset, she was begining to regret her actions. "The man dead by my hands?"

 

"Never regret, the past is done, and the future is what we make it. You did what I taught you to En, and you did it right. Besides, like you said, the worlds better off with one less ruffian."

 

"I need to leave, I think someone recognized me in the tavern," Enly admitted sadly.

 

"Oh don't worry, I've been planting rumors all the way here, by morning it won't be a draegoni suspect anymore, rather a dark clad human male."

 

"What? You pulled the blame over to you?" She asked surprised.

 

"Can't let you go stealing kills in my territory now can I? Don't worry about me, I'm headed north for a few months, you know how to contact me if you need help again," he smiled at her, then reached into his pocket. "Oh, and your brother sent this to me to pass on to you," he handed her a tightly wrapped scroll.

 

"Thank you," Enly accepted it and tucked it safely into her tunic next to her pouch of coins. He nodded at her with another warm smile, then slipped off into the night.

 

Enly lingered in the darkness for a moment, breathing in the night air. The stars blanketed the sky above her, and the air was laced with the smell of sea water. If only it were far colder it'd be nearly like home.

 

Debating what to do she stared at the tavern's back door. He'd said he had her guilt erased with rumors of his own hand in it, maybe she could stay here after-all. But she didn't want to deal with the others with stones, what if they wanted hers? Reaching into her pocket she ran her hand over it again.

 

With a sigh Enly slipped down against the alley wall, sitting in the darkness. The outhouse stench nearby was annoying, but she tried to ignore it. If only her brother was here... he'd know what to do.

 

She was about to open the letter and see what he'd written when the tavern's backdoor opened.

Edited by Enly

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SyWren caught the necklace the elegantly dressed elf had thrown, half expecting it what she would find when she opened her hand. It was indeed the same stone she had in her pocket. She shoved it into her pocket as well and could feel the two stones grow much warmer. She had cleaned the blade of her dagger, but it was still in her other hand.

 

The barmaid placed the mug of ale she had ordered on the bar and SyWren snatched it up and began to down it quickly. The time for lady-like pretenses had come and gone.

 

As she gulped the bitter-sweet ale, she briefly considered her course of action. She must know why she was here. The draegoni and dark elf had both left the tavern, but the old mage was still here. She considered confronting him for answers, but he seemed to be a man of many secrets not easily given over. The harpist, having seen all, may perhaps have secrets of her own, but there was still one other who knew.

 

With a thud, she returned the empty mug to its place on the bar and snatched the full mug of mead the wealthy elf had left. She spun around and tossed it in the face of the orchan passed out behind her.

 

He shook his head awake as she slammed the heal of her boot onto his right hand lying on the ground next to him. He sat up and grabbed at her with his left hand, but met the blade instead. He gave a high-pitched yelp as the blade pierced his palm and anchored his hand to the wall.

 

"Who are you?" she demanded of the orchan.

 

"Bitch!" he growled at her. She twisted the knife and he howled.

 

"Let me go! I'm nobody. I was hired to find the stones."

 

"Who sent you?"

 

"An old man in Morcraven. That was his daughter, there." The orchan tossed his head at the spot where the body of the woman had lain.

 

"Why do want the stones?" She twisted the knife again.

 

"The man only said...there would...be five here tonight. I had... to get...them all." The ochan was now gasping in the pain.

 

Five. She had two in her pocket. She had seen the draegoni with a third. Two more.

 

SyWren wrenched the dagger from the man's hand and the wood of the wall behind it and stepped back, releasing him. The orchan clenched his wounded hand with the other and slumped forward. He was just a hired hand. He wouldn't risk his life any further.

 

She turned to the door she had seen the draegoni leave by and walked out. She found the dark figure there in the alley with a letter in her hand. She looked startled as SyWren, bloody dagger in hand, stepped forward and demanded to know where she had found the stone and what she knew about it.

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Enly eyed the elf that had exited the tavern warily. She grasped a bloody knife and looked down on Enly with a frightening malice.

 

"Where did you find that stone and what do you know of it?" she demanded.

 

Enly slowly tucked the letter back into her tunic and stood up. Her hand flinched slightly as she wanted to reach for her knife, but she was not ready for more bloodshed tonight, and her magic could suffice if need be. She considered her options slowly before answering the woman. In the end she decided it didn't matter if she told the woman what little she knew.

 

"I was gifted this stone by a draegoni who taught me magic. His father once owned five, and passed one on to each of his children, no doubt they later dispersed. Of the stones I know little," Enly knelt quietly to the ground, a dying wildflower was wilting in a crack in the cobblestones, gently she removed the stone from her pocket and touched it to the flower. Whispering a few words under her breath, the stone glowed, and the wildflower filled with light and color, reminiscent of its glory days. "I know only it has the power to give life," she paused, pulling the stone away from the flower. As she did so, the flower faded, and wilted completely to the ground, in a worse state than it had been before "And take it away. In what true measures it can do these things, and for how long, I know not. I know only what my teacher warned me. That together, the stones could work miracles, or spawn destruction. I am curious which endeavor the one whom called the stones here is preparing for, if it is the first, I do not care. If it is the second, it must be stopped, but I am in no position to do so. With only a knife, a stone, and a few gold coins to my name, I am of no use to anyone but myself, and I do not care of the fate of the stones."

Edited by Enly

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{OOC} Nice work, ladies. :P But in my first post, I mentioned both the Orchan and the stabbed woman being carried out of the tavern. I'll edit my post to keep the Orchan in the bar. And Sy, I can't believe you stabbed Kelcha!! Now it's official, she has to survive -- I buy my leather from her! :P No wonder she's sick all the time, hanging out in disreputable waterfront bars. Truly, it runs in families. :) Another point -- that back alley is getting crowded. People will soon start forming a cue for the outhouse. :D

 

(By the way, to keep track of the story, I'm copying the posts to my comp and highlighting the important objects and actions, who brought them in, and when. So if anyone loses track, check with me.){OOC}

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{IC again:}

 

“What an interesting tale,” said Peino, stepping out of the shadows into the dim light leaking from the surrounding buildings.

 

When he had left the tavern, he almost immediately spotted the hooded figures still in the alley, talking secretively by the wall near the outhouse. Instinctively, he had withdrawn from sight, up against the opposite wall, to watch. He had seen the hooded man hand the Draegoni a letter and leave. He had seen her sink against the wall as if overcome with weariness. And then the tavern door had opened again, and there was yet more to watch in silence. A busy night at the Magic Apple, indeed.

 

Now both of the women tensed and turned upon him, the Draegoni reaching towards what must be a hidden weapon, the Elf with her bloody dagger ready in hand.

 

Peino came towards them, a figure swathed in shadows, his dark face completely invisible, but the faint light catching the golden plume of his hat, the pale hair tumbling down his shoulder, the steel glint of his sword in his hand, held low but ready.

 

“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a casual tone. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Peino Ereonis, of the House of Ereon of Irsis. It seems we have something in common.”

 

Reaching his free hand into his pocket, he produced the stone which glowed softly in his palm. The women’s eyes gleamed with interest, even the Draegoni who had claimed not to care a moment ago. He closed his hand upon the stone.

 

“Now I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I prefer to discuss my business over a good meal and a good drink, rather than in outhouse alleys. So...you’ll know where to find me.”

 

And with a bow, he went back inside the tavern.

 

 

 

(edited to fix typo)

Edited by peino

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Watching the dark skinned elf, Peino, he had named himself, enter the tavern again Enly released her grip on her knife. She looked slowly to the female elf still standing in the alley beside her. Most of Enly's common sense told her to leave, none of this mattered to her and she had her own problems to worry about. Yet something compelled her to stay, to see who had called these stones together, and why.

 

After a few moments of inner turmoil she stepped towards the tavern door and entered again. She owed it to her magic teacher to find out more about these stones, he'd died to defend the one she still had.

 

She sat down beside Peino at the bar, curious what the elf might have to say. Perhaps he knew nothing and was only seeking his own answers, he'd already heard most of what she had to say however.

 

"Hello Peino, I am Enly," she said introducing herself. "Enly of Iscalrith."

 

{OOC}I'll be out of town for several days with very little/no internet access. So I've entrusted Peino with nudging my character along and keeping Enly in the storyline :o

 

So if he steals my character and makes me do something its with permission and doesn't give you rights to Enly :o {/OOC}

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Melisande shrugged when her eye's met that of a peculiar dark elf, that had only walked into the tavern a few moments ago.

 

"Not good.." she thought, slightly panicing "not good at all..."

 

Her hands trembled for she was sure he had seen her, and somehow that disturbed her far more than what had happened before; murder, magic, the entwining of fates... She knew the dance they performed had merely begun.

 

As she closed her eyes to think clearly for a moment, she could discern a soft voice, quietly speaking in her mind:

 

" Your task was to unite your stone with the others. Nothing more, nothing less... You stayed far too long already, it would be wise to dissapear now..."

 

Whatever little role she had in this little trick of fate, she didn't like the direction it was heading.

Her hands, trembling still, put on her hood and sought support on the small wooden table as she stood up.

 

"To stop now would be an act of cowardness... but I do not wish to die for another man's cause.." she wispered.

 

Gently she took her harp under the arm, and left the tavern silently, with her eyes pointed at the floor.

 

As she stepped outside she could feel the cool breeze of the night caress her face, making some of her fiery red hairs flutter before her face.

 

"Let me be a coward then..." she whispered again, her haid raised, gazing at the stars.

 

With a sad grin Melisande walked away from the tavern, never to return, vanishing in the night.

 

(OOC like enly i wont be here for some days; vacation :D

but dont think it gives a problem with the roleplay as Melisande walked out of the action :) nice work everyone :) )

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When Peino reentered the Magic Apple, he quickly scanned the room again, out of habit. The place was quieting down, and the crowd had begun to thin. The red mage appeared to have lapsed from meditation into sleep on his stool in the corner. The Orchan who had been unconscious was now gone, and so was the mysterious harpist. So, now there were but four.

 

Peino resumed his seat, and in a moment the Draegoni lady entered as well and took the seat beside him.

 

“Hello, Peino, I am Enly,” she said, pushing back her hood to reveal her shining blue hair and glittering horns and scales. “Enly of Iscalrith.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Enly,” Peino replied with a courtly gesture and smile.

 

“Tell me what you know of the stones,” said Enly, getting down to it wiithout delay, but Peino held up his hand and pointed towards the softly snoring mage, signalling her to remain quiet for now.

 

“The problem with sleeping mages is that you never can tell what’s going to wake them up,” he murmured. “The harpist has gone, by the way, but what of the lady with the knife?”

 

“I see...” said Enly noticing now the changes Peino had mentioned.

 

“May I suggest we take a moment before discussing the matter which interests us? Let’s have a drink to take the chill off our bones. Who knows what may happen before we finish it.”

 

Enly felt uncertain, but on the other hand... She thought of the angry Elfen woman with her blood drenched blade, and she also thought of the long sword at the hip of this overly mannered Elfen man. One life she had already taken. She had no desire to risk taking another, or losing her own, so soon. Perhaps an armed companion was just what she needed at the moment.

 

“Mead?”, Peino offered.

 

Enly smiled softly. “I prefer wine.”

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Several hours and many tankards of wine later, Enly of Iscalrith lay with her head upon the bar, slumbering like a child. Laura the tavernkeeper had also slipped into a nap on a stood in the corner near the taps, and Cain the red mage still lay crumpled in the corner in that deathly sleep of the old. Only Peino remained awake, in the whole building as far as he could tell.

 

It hadn’t been easy to outdrink the young Draegoni. He thought of her as a young girl, but due to their long lives, even a young Draegoni could be older, tougher and more experienced than she seemed. This one certainly could hold her liquor. Fortunately, mead does not effect Elves as much as other beings, so Peino had not gotten even half as polluted as she. Even so, he was still pretty well in the bag.

 

Laying down his heavy head upon his arm on the bar, he thought about what Enly had said about the stones.

 

They were Draegoni magic. No doubt survivors of olden times, their origins and true purpose forgotten, like most Draegoni relics. Such a people for ancient legends and past glories!

 

Peino took the stone from his pocket and laid it on the bar close to his face. A dull-looking thing but imbued with the faint glow of power. He thought of the flower that Enly had used to demonstrate its magic -- the dying brought back to life, then thrown back into death, worse than before. This stone controlled the most precious gift of all -- life itself. And apparently, it tended to take more than it gave.

 

Bring the five together and gain the power to work miracles or rain down destruction. Someone had done just that -- brought the five stones together, using five strangers to do it, unwittingly, at the behest of one who remained hidden. Peino imagined a faceless mage or king, wearing a crown adorned with five pinkish stones burning with a fiery aura of magic, ascending over the world.

 

One who wore such a crown would have the power of a god, greater than any other. Even the mighty Mortos and Aluwen would bow before him.

 

Peino returned the stone to his pocket. Marshalling his drunken muscles, he pushed himself off the bar and onto his feet. Locating his hat where it had fallen, he settled it upon his head, straightened the sword on his belt, made his way out of the Magic Apple.

 

A cold ocean fog had invaded Portland, wrapping the sleeping city in veils of secrecy. Peino drew his cloak close about him and set off walking, past the darkened ships creaking against the docks, silently down deserted side streets, and out of the city by the western gate. He was headed to a point on the rock-bound shore where few had any reason to go, a quiet meadowed spot where Peino often went to be alone, to read or meditate.

 

Coming up to it in the fog, he heard the waves shushing softly over the rocks. The sound told him the tide was out. In a few hours, when the tide turned, the waves would pound upon the shore with fury. Here the land fell away steeply, and the waters were deep and treacherous, given to riptides and whirlpools. Ships gave this promintory a wide berth, and fishermen found it a bad place to cast their lines and nets.

 

Peino held the magic stone. Its warmth spread through the flesh of his hand seductively, like a promise of a wish fulfilled. Gripping it tightly, he threw it with all the force he had into the void of the night and the fog. Silence, waves, and then a second later, the small ploop of the stone hitting the water. And with that sound, the image his mind had conjured was dispelled.

 

He felt much more comfortable now. Regardless of what happened to the other four stones, it would now be much harder to bring the five together, for Peino, of the tribe of Sea Elves, knew the ocean did not give up its treasures willingly. As for whoever it was who had tried to use him and the others to gather the stones together, let him pick his messengers more carefully next time. He would not have his crown of life and death this day.

 

With the cold salt fog swirling around him, Peino headed back to the city, whistling a seafarer's tune. It would be dawn soon. Time to wake up Laura and see if he could hire a warm bed for what remained of the night.

Edited by peino

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Left alone in cool of the night, SyWren watched the draegoni woman and the elf reenter the tavern. As she cleaned her dagger with a rag found on a vendor's table, she considered joining them, but could only be sure of one thing: if she did, surely there would be more blood, and this time it might be her own. The stones together were too powerful for any one person, and the bearers of the stones would never be at peace as long as they were apart.

 

She knew there was only one choice to be made.

 

Returning the dagger to its sheath strapped to her leg, she pulled the hood over her face and the cloak tight around her body and began the long walk to through this land until, in the early morning, she reached the port of White Stone and the boat that would take her to her destination.

 

She arrived with the morning sun. Here, on Isla Prima, where all life begins and where it was rumored that even the lands themselves began, was (she believed) the most fitting place for a stone with the power to create life. She walked until she found the familiar old well whose depths seemed endless and was believed to reach so far as to touch the underworld itself.

 

Here she stopped, held her hand over the well, and dropped the stone. There, lost deep within the earth below, she hoped it stayed. She turned, and felt the warmth of the morning sun on her face and the listened to the sounds of children playing a morning game in the wooded land nearby.

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{OOC} Aww, you both dumped your stones... seems like the story is being steered to an end :) I just need to figure out what Enly is gonna do... {/OOC}

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{OOC} Aww, you both dumped your stones... seems like the story is being steered to an end :medieval: I just need to figure out what Enly is gonna do... {/OOC}

[OOC] Let me know if Enly needs a good hangover cure. The wine was pouring pretty liberally. :P Welcome back.[OOC]

Edited by peino

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{OOC} Aww, you both dumped your stones... seems like the story is being steered to an end :confused: I just need to figure out what Enly is gonna do... {/OOC}

 

{OOC: I thought this was an open-ended RP, though? Hence, no main characters, specific plot, etc.?

 

I can't think of a good way to come in now... Any hints/suggestions? /OOC:}

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{OOC} Aww, you both dumped your stones... seems like the story is being steered to an end :confused: I just need to figure out what Enly is gonna do... {/OOC}

 

{OOC: I thought this was an open-ended RP, though? Hence, no main characters, specific plot, etc.?

 

I can't think of a good way to come in now... Any hints/suggestions? /OOC:}

{OOC} Well if I read what you're saying right... you're right. Its open-ended, no plot really... and I suppose we could easily enough steer the story so it keeps going :)

 

As for how to come in, think about your character a bit. Just ask yourself what he is like? What would he be doing normally? What reasons would he have to visit a tavern? Just think about your character's personality, and a way for him to enter may present itself. Perhaps its just coming in for a morning drink, perhaps he's been there all night but sitting drunk in a corner :) How you enter really mostly revolves around what sort of character you have :){/OOC}

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[OOC]Aphis, I think the reason we steered the stones story the way we did was because it was a little too structured. That was really a quest story coming together, but the people in it hadn't planned on one and couldn't be available (hello, Sistema, where are you? :hug:) so it wasn't going to work this time anyway. By breaking up that story line, the RP is back to being an open-ended character-driven thing. So now you can enter the tavern with anything you like -- something completely new, or you can take over the stones idea, or anything that strikes your fancy -- just follow Enly's good advice. :D [/OOC]

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{OOC: Aww, thanks for the advice guys :P But I have something special in store....}

 

For the first time in ten years, the Stones presence resonated through the land. Aphistolas fell with the immense pressure suddenly bearing down on upon him. The enormous powers that were entwined lay dormant, for the moment. They were the arguably the most ancient artefacts known to Draia, but only existing in legend; or so most people believed. Aphistolas's father and mother had devoted the majority of their lives to the Stones. The Protectors, the ones who swore life to the Stones of Draia.

 

The Stones had an odd way of choosing Bearers. Bearers were the people of noble blood, descended from the Ishtarae more than an age ago. Only they could access the powers of the Stones, the terrible corrupting power. Protectors were gifted with Ishtarae blood, too. But of a different role. They were bound to the Stones and their powers. For as long as there were Bearers, Protectors would seek to protect them, and keep the terrible power of the stones locked and under keep.

 

One of Aphistolas's closest allies had been a Bearer. He did not show restraint, however, and the Stone corrupted his soul. He went on a murderous rampage, desperate for more power, but lost his glory. Aphistolas knew. He had been the Protector summoned. Without as much as a second thought, he killed his closest ally. And the memories haunted him almost a decade later.

 

Slowly, he regained his breath. The soft earth beneath him felt cold, soothing. Subtle power coursed through the ground. Magic. Many forms of it existed; Earth, Ley, Dark, but the Stones power stood up among the other recessive energies. He pulled up his Wizards Sight, calmly examining the ground. The very nature of magic and the energies that pulsed through around Draia were revealed. They were calm, undisturbed, like a gentle river.

 

And then there was the power of the Stones. It didn't calmly flow, it throbbed, twisting and swirling randomly in the ground. Spiking, receding, building up and dying down again. He looked up, there was a clear path of energy. Shifting from dark green, to dark grey to dark red, and to pure black. It looked unnatural, among the bright greens, yellows, blues, reds, and violets of Draia's energy. It was an activated Stone. Not in use, but activated. And it the disturbance wasn't isolated, a lingering presence dwindled. A Stone had passed here, within two days. The energy the Stones produced wasn't potent enough to leave any lasting-trail for long. They produced a constant stream of energy, powerful and fast; but didn't leave any traceable emissions.

 

At least not for the common Wizard.

 

Taking to his feet, Aphistolas broke into a steady jog; the replacement-sword Amorachiccus sheathed in its iron scabbard tapping against his side. Nervously, he fastened his robes and increased the pace. He would arrive at Portland's gates soon...

 

{OOC: Yes, I'm stealing some things from Jim Butcher :icon13: }

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