i'll finish working the center story, fixing the format this weekend of late. enjoy...
A bird's way of welcoming you (6/08/04 10:08 PM)
Bouncing Bullets (6/09/04 7:44 am Local)The small pontoon boat swayed on it's moorings, in Foggy Port Vesper's cool morning air. Sea gulls cried, looking for free meals or to steal a snack at least. The young man stepped on the rotten wood planks and expected to fall through the wood planks right then and there. Instead, much to his chagrin, he stepped in bird droppings...
"Ah, the start of a wonderful day..."
Drink one day, die the next...(6/09/04 6:17 am Local)The bard came back into the western gate a little more bruised than before he left it but that was because he tripped twice on his boot laces and thus fumbled both of his minor means of magical band aids. That in itself wasn't the reason for the small thunderstorm hovering over the head of the idiot minstrel. That cause was the bard's wonderful aim with his sling. "i swear i never saw so many bullets hit the grass then the goblin rats before!", he wailed angrily so no one in particular, walking away as the guards maintained their composer before openly laughing at his plight once out of ear shot...
The bold and the Bald... (6/15/04 13:25 pm Local)It had been a splendid few days for the idiot minstrel. Having met new friends and rinking partners, heading out into the western Glenn (with friends, of course, since he was aware of the joke that the goblins said...nothing good, mind you) and generally enjoying himself when they cam upon the bodies. 2 males and a female. one Male elf had his larynx removed, the other human disemboweled. The female human? i hope she was dead when what happened to her body occurred. *shudders*
Caishto, Ranger...Druid....stood there stunned and bitter. In the past 3 days, he said, he has laid to rest not quite a dozen thrill seekers, fools and simply to slow to retreat adventurers, now seeking adventure in the fugue. I do hope Kelemnor is not busy. To this end i merely shrugged, and gently picked up a body. I fear my sense of joy in knowledge would be forever tainted by this learning experience...
The worst was to come...for we found one that we knew, fallen on the field of battle...the human known to me as Ome Frenn. cheerful chap, had a large amount of anger toward goblinoids. I had the chance to share a drink with him and seek adventure with him but when i choose to seek shelter, he have chosen Vengeance... As i looked at his corpse, the dagger pokes still oozing, i felt great pity in not learning why he was filled with such hatred. What caused his angst? Revenge? Childhood accident? With his passing, Oghma grows weaker in not knowing the truth of the matter.
As myself and Cairshto went our separate ways, each desiring a different means to grieve, as we left the cemetery. Cairshto mentioned going into the east forests and i would seek solace at the bar. Perhaps another day i too would explore what lays east but for now, mead calls my name. With a grim expression to show to the world his sorrow over the whole affair, with all the dead that has fallen in the past eve, they certainly left enough coin for to enjoy a drink. A drink to the dead...
Beautiful women, all at a sword's length(6/16/04 9:05 am Local)The idiot Minstrel followed the beautiful woman as she fearless, and foolishly i might add, cleaved a small blood trail through the many goblins that apparently patrolled the forests and plains to the west and south of the region. I was impressed on her ferocity ... and her amble bosom was a relatively nice sight to follow as well. I merely kept running to keep her, and her just as shapely bottom, i must admit, safe from harm that comes...
Truth dreadful times and dreadful lack of bars (6/18/04 10:50 am Local)Sometimes Tymorra does smile on fools and lovers. The idiot Minstrel certainly felt like the latter, as he the blessing to meet three equally attractive women in less than a hour's time. First was the disarming Tiruva, a moon elf of exceptional quality in both body and cloth. The second was the green elf named Isendyl, though at the time he did not know her name. Last and not least, was the feral but beautiful Ananiki, a huge brute of a woman. Armed with a snarl and a equally snarled Broadsword, she gave him the most whithering of expressions. I swear, i had not seen such a "drop dead" expressions on a woman since, well.... Jessica of Sembia. I wonder if Jessica is still mad at me, hmm...
"So this is the fugue? Funny, i had so hoped for more blue skies...", the dead idiot bard mused. It wasn't the fact that the plains were barren or lacked of any sort of life that displeased or sadden him. It was in fact the lack of alcohol or a beautiful woman to drink that alcohol with...
So the depressed bald man sat down in the Grey grass and began the only thing he could: think about that young woman he met at the well in Dragon Dale, who showed annoyance at him, the first true sign of romance... or gas. one of the two...
Remember me? (6/19/04 6:05 pm Local)
A conversation between Mericka Olhelm and Corvus Gwynstreedd'ea and a fly under the bench named Millia...
does Hell's bar really discriminate? (6/28/04 10:43 am Local)Mericka Olhelm: "Corvus? Did you ever have the chance to meet the balding man, Perry?"
Corvus Gwynstreedd'ea: Nods slowly, his eyes rising to Mericka as he blinks, then speaks a bit more casually "Annoying young fellow...why?"
MO: nods, considering his words "Indeed nice enough, if a bit ...eager...not impressive enough, i though to make my dreams...but dream about him, i do..." trials off thinking
CG: tilts his head a bit to one side, curious "Dream? Why?"
MO: continues after a pause I dream...he laments the lack of drink in a cold windy place...i think... maybe stops, eyes thoughtful for finally sighing once more "...I think he may have fallen..."
CG: eyes darken a bit turning, sober as he nods slowly "He never seemed much suited to the wild places...."
MO: nods, grinning faintly but catches herself "Unless the wilds of a rowdy inn, indeed."
CG: "How long have..."
MO: "For some time," then nods mouth a thin line "I suppose if he is found, yes i will help him."
CG: nods slowly, his eyes brightening a fraction before sobering once more "Unless he was made a goblin meal."
MO: her head tilts, looking to corvus. "That is possible i suppose, time will Tell."
CG: sighs quietly after a short pause, nodding again "I suppose so."
MO: chuckles slightly eyes clearing "Does this hin make a habit of sleeping under those around here?"
From Gray to light... (7/5/04 11:29 pm Local)For the human known in Faerun as Roen Sendt, it was another pale day in the fugue, home to gray pale souls and no bars or women to cuddle with at those bars, as the bard and priestess Perry Mason had said. Perry was surprised in fact to meet the other man. He had seen various souls come and go, as their respective deities came to claim them, watched as the demons and devils conducted their own culling of the unfaithful, and this caused the priest of Oghma to tremble to no end.
Indeed, as he laid next to a oak, one that he began calling 'Bob' for lack of familiarity or conversation, he wondered why Ohgma had NOT come for him. Did he do something wrong? a jilted love's venomous words finally getting him in the end? He shook his head, nay, he loved them all, in his own way...
But here they sat and talked, discussed what had gone wrong, what they could do to rectify it and would the gods find pity on them. Nay, if they felt pity, the bar would have been here already, the bard mused in mild self serving mirth...
"Even in hell, they have a bar....but it's not like you -or- i would even see it"...
When rapture is in the air (-or-) Chasity belts not required. (7-12-04 12:00 PM Local)The balding bard laid his head down a moment on the soft bed in the inn's second floor. His thoughts were a mild blur from the past afternoon. He was alive as was his friend Ro'an. he had cloths and some coin for food. obviously his martial needs would have to wait, if ever.
The simply fact was he was breathing air that was not Gray, tasted grass that was not Gray and splashed water that was not Gray at all...and that made all the difference...
Two fair ladys speak outside a fancy seamstress's establishment, in the town of Vesper Landing. The first lass, The Druidess priestess of Chauntea, Miss Julisette Morena, was embracing her friend with a smile, the Enchanting Tiruva Luinloxé, Priestess of Corellon Larethian. As fate would behold, the bard of Oghma, Perry Mason, blundered into the miss, dumb founded by the beautity of both women...
'Tis beautiful, Violet, but I meant 'tis good to see -you-', laughed the Lady Julisette, soft brown hair caressing her ears as she laughed ever so softly.
The Moon Elf in return blushed deeply, giggling nervously in her habit, when caught of gaurd in delight and friendship. 'Oh'...
The pair of old friends expresses pleasantries, happy to be in company again, while the bumbling bard came to a complete stop and muttered.
'blessed one of great knowledge' The bard, balding head and ruddy complexion stood speechless in the sight of the most beautiful women he had beholded so far in his travels.
JM: [Tell]Who is he drooling on?
Smiling warmly as she drew back from the embrace, The Earthmother Priestess held her friend at arms lenght. 'Have you been well, Tiruva?'
The moon elf nodded slowly, smiling as gently as she could muster, the perils of the week forgotten at least for the moment.
'I have'.
'Tis good to hear, good to hear...'
It was then that Perry recovered his wits and saught to puff his chest out, a vain attempt at impression to both ladies, who eached turned to greet him with glances, tilted heads and giggle, from Tiruva.
PM: Perform Check, Roll 1d20: 18 Modifier: 8 = Total: 26
PM: Persuade Check, Roll 1d20: 1 Modifier: 8 = Total: 9
'ahem....good....*coughs* good eve, ladies', the bard spoke in near perfect Cormythian dialect, a feral but delightful grin on his face.
'oh, hello there '
'And a good eve to you, milord....'
The bard spoke, enboldened by a little imbriation of wine and lust as he smiled to the Chauntean Priestess. ' I swear I have seen sparkles in the sort since I last bedded miss Jessi......' The bard blushed almost imediately, muttering in alarm, 'dear me, did I say that aloud?'
Tiruva blushed, her pale blue eyes wide as she giggled weakly where as Julisette's brown~hazel orbs widdened just a hair before she bursted out laughing. 'Yes, sir, I do believe you did...'
Perry, always the king of damage control went about his way to recover his wits, scattered over 40 miles of wreckage. 'I just....dear me.....I know a few people only slightly more enchanting than you......but they did not sparkle in your grace, malady...'
The woman traded glanced, the Moon elf nervously brushing blue locks from her eyes, still fully flushed. The human's eyes twinkled, with a brilliant smile before shaking her head with soft laughter. 'You are kind to say so, milord... I don't believe we have met, sir... I am Julisette, servant of Chauntea.'
'and coinno.... coinno...... coinno...... drinker of fine wines!' The moon elf finally mewed out, with purry giggles lacing her musical voice. 'call me Tiruva'
PM: Perform Check, Roll 1d20: 11 Modifier: 8 = Total: 19
Sweeping his hand with a non-existant wide brimmed hat, the man bowed his head to the ladies.
'Pierre Julz Mazon, Bard.....poet.....Servant to Oghma and occasionally ladies bedrooms', he spoke with quick wit, with professional winks, before turning towards the moonelf priestess with a equal disarming smile... 'And miss Moon Elf, you are just as radiant'
Julisette looked aside, lifting a well dirt worn hand to her face to cover a polite but quiet snort, before uttering a soft giggle.
PM: how is it that since I've been here, I've but just met you now, my sweetest of nectars, miss Julisette?
JM: *merriment sparkles in her gaze as she looks back to the man* A silver-tongued one, are you? *laughs* 'Tis likely because I live in the Landing, milord... have you been about the Dale long?
TL: *glances from Perry to Juli again, smiling mirthfully with faintly flushed features*
PM: Wisdom Check, Roll 1d20: 19 Modifier: 2 = Total: 21
PM: .....a month......but some of my time was......else where *he grows solemn for just a moment* juliswaid......julisunset......Julisweet.......so many ways to make love to your *name* to say the least.......
TL: *furrows her brow slightly, glancing to Perry curiously, before giggling softly at his latter words*
JM: *pauses, absolutely still for a moment, something of shock stilling her features; she regards the man for a moment, before allowing a lilting smile to appear* Again, milord, you are kind to say so...
PM: *notes her quiet reaction* my....pleasure? are you ill? need a rub? I do sensual massages as well as poetry my dear...
JM: *nods solemnly to Tiruva, eyes aglow* Yes, even better... in the right company... with the right person... *blinks hard, startled, at Perry's whisper* Hm?
PM: *arms go wide in wild celebration*
JM: *smirks impishly* Something tells me, milord, should you pay tribute at Sharess' temples, you might never leave! *bursts into giggles*
TL: *glances between Perry and Juli, smiling insecurely, not seeming to understand everything, but giggles*
PM: *shrugs* well it makes sense, Sharessians are renown for their love things sensual, sexual and cat.....oh they adore cats......I knew a lady named Messina who shaved her cat bare, save his bottom! oddest woman I've ever had a affair with. wonderful fingers mind you *smiles*
[font color=gray]JM: [Whisper] *mouths quietly, to Tiruva* It may be better to explain another time...[/font]
TL: *her eyes widen from Perry to Juli, continuing to blush faintly as she giggles insecurely*
JM: *exhales a quiet, mirthful snort through her nose, then laughs again* Oh yes, sir, Sharessians know well how to enjoy the endless revelries of life.
PM: You mentioned the landing....you meant Vesper River Landing?
TL: *gives Mericky and odd look, giving him room and giggling*
JM: *smiles widely at Perry, nodding* Yes... the Temple is in the western part of town... just ask any of the guardsmen... they know well where 'Tis.
PM: Indeed? Yes. I arrived there from my last major Port of Call....Sembia *looks to his left foot absentmindedly as he speaks* seems the birds enjoy making the piers danger to travel......amazing how much bird dung comes from them in day *makes a face*
TL: *glances aside to Juli and giggles faintly. Then glances back to Perry and giggles some more*
JM: *laughs softly* 'Twould do you well to watch where you walk then, I daresay. *giggles*
PM: Perform Check, Roll 1d20: 2 Modifier: 8 = Total: 10
PM: *grins* indeed. bird guano is hard to pick from ones toes *winks* well I suppose I should head in. the lady in purple inside thinks I am dashing! *strikes a bizarre pose*
TL: *giggles*
JM: *grins, trying hard not to giggle, at Perry* A wonderful night to you then, sir. Be well, 'til next our paths cross.
TL: *nods her head a little, not seeming to fully understand* rest well, good sir
'I shall of none other......well maybe miss purple....I have no clue to her skills with her hands of yet. something to teach, i would gather...' The Bard bowed deeply before laughing. 'ladies....watch your virtues. one never knows who is out and about to steal your hearts and virginities!
The Priestess of Chauntea merely snorted, waving a hand dismissively, before bursting out laughing...
Of men and hin (not really a love story) (7-20-04 11:28 am local)
It's when you really miss them the most, that it shows you care about them (or just want hrass them more) (7-23-04 12:21 local)Perhaps he should not have teased the hin when he first met her ar the well. he did not recall specifically what he said in jest but it traumatized the hin, none the less, as since that day, when she catches sight of hin, err, *him*, whether she is sitting on a bench, leaning against the wall or, as often as she does this, hand cranking the bucket up from the well, she looks nervous and wryly, ready to bolt a sneeze or fart's notice.
Quite odd, really. All i really said was that i would eat her or some thing along those lines. Surely she saw the jest in that, did she not? after all i had told he that i did not bring the jelly's thus, a meal would be ruined thus had i actually consumed her. Don't you agree?
" bob" (7-28-04 10:57 local)The balding bard/cum Priest/cum warrior sat on his customary spot at the well, looking again at the empty sight of activities. The war party that departed the previous eve had not yet returned but he wasn't particular worries. his one true love was with them and the minstrel had faith they would return well and good. But one particular thought plagued him. He did not see his favorite playhin.
She was tiny for a hin, spry and awry looking, and so easy to harass. It was hilarious to him to watch her slink back, ready to jet out in a second's notice, even with her legs rocking back and forth on the bench, usually as far from him as possible. But she had not been seen as of late. He asked around the inn. After persuading the Inn keep to inspect her paid for room, there was no sign that she had left suddenly.
The Bard continued his queries until he spoke to the farmer the he often acquired cheese from for the kitchen. The man spoke nothing to him, giving the Priest of Oghma the coldest of shoulders when he mention the description of the missing hin. As he wandered away though, he could not but help to feel....suddenly very cold over the matter...
predictions (7-28-04 10:58 local)Sometimes, I wish I had heeded Mistress Jetzaetta's words of wisdom and not spend so much of my idol time playing foolery, as "you could end up buried (alive) in gold." Take this past eve, for instance. I was resting from a harrow brief exploration of what I now know is a called the 'Hidden Glenn'.
Myself, a able warrior who, at this moment I forget his name (but a like-able chap, none the less) and the maiden Nada where paroling around and damned near got a return trip to the fugue for our troubles, only the sudden arrival of Selune herself over the tree tops saved us, causing the goblins to slink back into their caves...
We limped back through the north gate, dragging our loot bags and our injured tailed, dealt with the con artist Ralbon and make our way to the well benches to rest our exhausted bone. various adventures rested there, idly discussed the recent trek into bandit lands and other speculations. That was when "she" came...
Bossy is one word I could use. forceful, another. gullible is a word I would happily tattoo on each of her bottom cheeks. She asked for guidance...or just guides. demanded, perhaps a word I would substitute in this matter. I for one was tired and offered to do it, if only she waited along everyone else at the well so she could asked questions first. Anxious and driven, two more words to add to her bottom side tattoo. eventually, impatience won out on her and she stormed off. That was when I offered to assist her, thinking with my heart, not my brain or groin at that moment.
I told her to wait a few minutes while I change cloths. I assumed that the child was wanting a escort IN TOWN, not the out glenns so when I came out, I spotted a fib that would likely haunt my dying days. I 'created' "Bob. It was meant as jest but the woman bought it, like she buy a loaf of breath. I spent the rest of my time with her, healing from rats, arguing about diseases in rats other inane discussions...
And the fact that all my friends and the woman in question, at the Well and...the Ranger Camp fire that I now write this story about, also have started to call me "Bob"...
It was a joke. why am I the only one not laughing?
The student (7-29-04 6:29 local)The Oghma Priest labored at his desk in his rented room, the smell of pig's blood burning in a lantern lingering in the air, on this sweltering night. Summer has come to the Vast and with it, the brief period of uncomfortable climes. The note he crafted was his report to his superiors back in Waterdeep, reports and speculations on recent events in the region that play small parts in the entirety of this part of the realm. 'chess pieces from one game of chess in a room full of chess players', Master Goe liked to say.
Indeed, with the recent incursion of a tribe of Hobgoblins moving into the region, the subsequent decimation of the resident bugbears and (perhaps with unforeseen consequences) the apparent destruction of a bandit hideout of the Night Masks, events moved in this neck of the wood. The bard tapped his lower lip with the quill and frowned, as cranks and gears in his head moaned and creaked, attempting to foresee possible results of the sudden loss of two major powers in this region. But for each time that the Priest factored in possible outcomes, he came to the same inevitable conclusion: the very survival of Dragon Dale was at stake.
Old friends, suspicious narrow eyes and thoughts of bitter disappointment (PART ONE) (7-30-04 8:43 local)The bard was sitting on the stool talking amicably to the bartender, in the wee hours of the morn. The previous night, he began a very studious event, the martial training of the very young and wet behind her eyes and nose girl named Merlanus. Smirking suddenly, as he remembered the look she gave him when he agreed to become her teacher. "Puppy dog eyes, i swear", the bard mumbled, drawing a curious stare from the bartender, bust polishing another glass.
But for all his posturing, he couldn't shake that feeling of regret and worry. He had to maintain a professional relationship with her. It would do her no good to accidentally corrupt the budding flower before she was ready to call herself woman, maiden or M'Lady. Frowning his thoughts drift back to a few years past, similar situations...and familiar grief.
"Nay, i know better now than i did then and i shall instill *that* wisdom into her instead..."
Pain brings memory (8-1-04 8:00 PM local)The bard of Oghma walked out of the inn to sit at his customary seat at the well. Standing near it was the Ranger Cairshto, the Green Elf Isendyl and a dwarf, dressed in plate mail but colored to the metal type used by the Dragon Dale Militia.
"you've been gone long...", spoke the green elf and the ranger nodded his head and studied the dwarf calmly.
" been killn' orc under the earthfast", spoke the dwarf in gruff nasal tones before nodding politely to the bard in purple dress. Isendyl shook her head, her body seeming to fight off a bit of tension at mention of the mountains to he north.
This gesture caused Cairshto to tilt his head curiously, then glance to Isen for a moment, before looking back and nodding. " Many, I am sure, are there....are there dwarf-holds, as well?"
The bard just stood there, exchanging knowing nod to the ranger and a polite flick of his fingers to his temple to the dwarf, the ranger in turn looked briefly to the man to his left, and nods, eyes moving back to Karn curiously.
Nodding, the dwarf looked at man in purple and belched loudly before turning back to cairshto and isendyl. "old one. just a temple ta clangeddin there now"
This keyed a memory in the bard. " 'the rock of Battle'..... ". This comment caused the dwarf's eyebrow to rise at man in purple. Cairshto looked between Perry and Karn, eyes moving between confusion and curiosity.
her nose wrinkling lightly at the belch, the green elf's ears twitching as she seemed to fight back the urge to grin at the dwarfs less than perfect manners.
"been any drow 'bout since i been gone?" The green elf looked to cairshto a moment then back to the dwarf. Cairshto focused on Karn, eyes settling into calm. "None that I have heard."
"i wasn't aware that dwarves had such a presence in these mountains....let alone Drow." The dwarf, Karn, nodded to the pair. "Good", before turning to the bard in purple. " dwarves was 'ere 'fore yer kind, man. we'll be 'ere still, too. well, think i'll be 'eadin' ta the ranger camp ta see what's 'bout in the woods. ya wanna join, carshta, isendill? "
The dwarf's rebuke simply caused the bard to smile "and before my mother as well?" before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell in a pile, a victim of another narcoleptic fit.
Ignoring the sudden falling of the annoying human, the green elf's ears twitched as her name is slaughtered by the dwarven accent, then nodded her head lightly looking to cairshto.
"I look for someone, Karn....have you seen any elves besides Siril about?", the ranger spoke in calm tones. Karn shaked his head once "nope. not usually comin' ta the dale 'r the landin', though."
Speaking in the dialect of green, Isendyl spoke to her mate. "[we] he is likely in the camp my love.. it is where i left him last eve." nodding faintly to Isen, Cairstho agreed with her assessment. "Well enough, the camp then." The dwarf started to slip his staff into his pack and the bard, curious, pipped up. "looking for whom, sir?"
The ranger smiled. "The Hunter in the Wind....Keth'ryl, a friend I feared lost, but would seem to be found." " kethril? met 'im once. good tracker." spoke the dwarf calmly.
"nay, not met that man.....and i've come across no bodies in my travels. i would assume his health is not in question...." Perry's matter-of-factly statement caused the green elf's eyes to narrow at the purple clad human. "I spoke with my tribesman yesterday... he is alive and well..."
Leveling a stare on Perry, and considering him for some time, Cairshto turns away causing the green elf to mutter something elvish under her breath. The dwarf turns to leave. "when'ver yer ready, folks. I'll be waitin' outside the gate."
"Karn... perhaps a different route? Motioning towards the west gate, she continues. "I've not patrolled the western glades in some time"
The bard, realizing that they meant to travel to camp, meaning another opportunity see the forests in more safe conduct and more chances to learn about the others, knelt down and began pulling out his armor fro his bags. "May I come?"
"ya know the best way. I need a map ta find my way out there." The dwarf was unashamed at declaring his lack of direction sense in the forests, eliciting a smile from Isendyl. "not the most direct route....but have not traveled those paths in many days.. I should like to inspect."
The ranger looked to Perry and shrugs, looking to Karn, indicating it was perhaps his call. "yer the scouts." He looks the man in purple as he slips on his scale mail. "ya been out there 'fore? ya got a bow?"
Grumbling in wild elvish, Isendyl was clearly unhappy at the bard's request. "[Whisper] [we] I doubt we' have much a choice.. I think it would follow us like a pup without a mother even if we did leave him..." That comment caused the ranger to smile faintly, as he waited for Perry to speak.
"a little.....I know enough to know....well....I don't wish to go to grey again.....for a while yet at least." The bard gave a uncomfortable smile, the subject obviously not a topic he discusses in mirth. "user yer bow. stay 'hind me 'n run when I tell ya.", the dwarf admonished the human then. "indeed. fine tactics. I promise not to soil my armor, good dwarf".
Removing a small gem from a leather strap on her gauntlet, Isendyl tucked it safely into a small pouch on her belt, all the while exhaling and shaking her head with a questioning look to her mate. "[wild elven] are you sure you share the same race with him?" The ranger merely smiled further, walking west with the formation as they headed out the west gate...
Did you see a rat? *swing* oh, that rat... (8-3-04 6:29 am local)The bard stood at the tree, looking at the damage he caused. quite amazing at what a longsword or fair quality to do to bark, sap.... or flesh, if you want to get to the bones about it. holding the sword in his hands, he looked rather amazed at the weapon, the leather straps on it's pommel, the shine of mirror like surfaces on it's edge. graceful, elegant....from a more peaceful time.
The days after the the failed bust to capture a high ranking shaman frayed at his nerves but the priest was many things. patience was just merely one of of those things. He knew he could do it. he merely had to have the plan and the players to make it happen. individuals earn rewards but the team earns the victory. Like his days in the martial fields in Cimbar, the Oghma priest knows that knowledge that comes from patient work bores the sweetest fruit indeed...
When Perry met Ana, err, Sally... (8-7-04 8:28 am local)When the dwarf Maytrd and the bard Perry walked into the south gate, they had both looks of honest good time. a extended patrol and walk-about netted perhaps 60 coins between them, a few rocks and a few axes lighter overall. They had wandered the road south of the dale all the way down to Land's Drop, dropping every goblin they met, a few rats for dinner and, thankfully the bard whispered to himself, no Lizard folk. considering company and discussion that occurred, it was a good day for the priest of Oghma indeed...
The great poet, drunkard and narcissistic former Banite, former Cyric and currently worshiping this young red headed serving wench in Battledale T'Yal Ghast Eater would have totally agreed with Perry's assessment of the barbarian Ananiki. "That woman needs no words of wisdom. likely she'd 'Me cut you half, puny male' the words, boil them in 'No! me no care!' degree temperature water and serve them with a healthy dose of saliva." Interesting people you meet on the road from Vesper, interesting people indeed...
