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A Warrior's Tale; Even the best of this world may not be enough
Topic Started: October 10, 2010, 4:01 am (245 Views)
toxias
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Bakir port. Like many ports of its kind, Bakir port is a place of variety and diversity, all comingling in one great center of trade. The air near the docks is always filled with the odor of fish, but also with the tingling fragrance of an array of spices. Fine silks and great treasures can sometime be seen being jealously guarded whilst they are unloaded from splendorous ships. There is always hustle and bustle in the middle of the day here, and even at night the dock is never truly quiet. Taverns line the roads along the dockside, and occasionally a blast of rowdy laughter can be heard over the other noises. Sea birds cry overhead, and the occasional bark is heard from a fisherman’s trusty best friend. Merchants shout to make themselves heard, haggling and bargaining with those bringing them precious goods from far-away lands.

Among all this splendor and cacophony, a simple boat dips up and down on the waves, moored to a dock. Nothing about it catches the eye. It is a simple boat, large enough to be a merchant’s ship, but not large enough to draw attention. There is nothing ornate about it at all. It is made of simple wood. Along its prow, it curling script, its name is inscribed. Myst. Many pass it, and few give it a second glance. It is occasionally swallowed up by the crowd. This is their destination. The best warriors of the realm, joined together on a single ship to battle some far-off danger. Some might call it stupidity. Some might call it chance. Some might call it luck. And some may call it destiny.
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That Butler
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The journey to Bakir Port was a short one for Othello. He'd been in the next town over when he'd received the mysterious letter, and never being one to miss a chance to have an adventure (which he can then tell others about once it is over), the bard gleefully made his way to Bakir, wondering what exciting events awaited him.

After a few uneventful days of travel, he arrived at the port and was immediately surrounded by crowds of people. A few of them he vaguely recognized as people he'd performed for in the past, but the rest were a ton of new faces that were eager to see him. Apparently the word had reached the port that Othello was heading their way, which is why such a large crowd had a chance to gather. Well, this was both a good and bad thing. Good because let's face it, Othello is an attention whore. Bad because he actually had something to be doing that didn't involve entertaining crowds. Certainly was strange for him to have his priorities split in such a manner.

"Now, now!" he called to the crowd, smiling brightly at the lot of them. "As much as I would love to indulge you all, I am afraid that I have come to Bakir Port for a reason that some would consider more important than entertaining you wonderful people. But since I am here and seem to have a few moments to spare, do not consider yourselves unfortunate! Here is a little gift for you all!"

With that said, he pulled out his flute and began to play a lively tune with a level of skill that was unmatched. His fingers moved without effort or error as they danced along the flute, creating beautiful music for the crowd to enjoy. Many of them began to dance to the merry melody, and Othello smiled inwardly at the sight of it.
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A lone Elf walked into the port city of Bakir. Many people seemed atonished to find an Elf so far away from the Elven forests. Elves and humans had been on bad terms for the past few millenia. Only the elders knew exactly what had caused the dissention between the two races. So the elves reception had been one of hostility. He had been refused service at multiple stalls and had been denied entry into many taverns. While most of the people were distracted by a man playing a flute he still got plently of hostility from the others. The children were throwing stones at him and the men and women were laughing at him. Not wishing to make a bigger fuss he began to make his way to the dock.
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Jester
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The thudding and clanking of metal against the cobblestones of the street where lost in the hustle and bustle of the crowds. Ishmal had traveled for a good little while to reach the city. He had not been so fortunate as to have been close by when he had received the summons, and had been forced to hire a coach to bring him. However now the sizable man was walking down the city streets headed for the dock. On his shoulder he carried but a small satchel, and on his hip rested the main tool of his trade, his broadsword.
His craft, and his placement in it was rather well known for the commoners in that field, but the commoners that stood in the street, some might have thought they had seen him before, some had no idea. This was fine by Ishmal, this was fine by Bane. For making his way through the city streets and onto the dock, the slight metal banding of his boots clicking and clanking as he made his way along, bane found that his own identity didn't matter outside of his job. He was perfectly happy with not being noticed int he crowd of people, so long as they remember his name when his exploits are announced.
Making his way along the dock he looked from each ship as he went along, pausing for a moment to read the names of each as he passes. As he looked about he nearly missed a smaller ship that was tied off to the dock. He stepped back and looked over and sure enough, there inscribed on it was the name Myst. It was a very simple boat, which in of itself didn't bother him seeing as he was not known for his love of frills, but it did raise the not of thought as to if this endeavor would bring forth the valorous glory he sought. Though deciding not to ponder it the man clad in chain walked towards the ship.
The Laughing Gnome
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The feeling of rocking back and fourth from the oceans push and pull was still rocking on the solid land of Bakir Port. A girl in a very traditional kimono could be seen walking alone in the streets of the port. The sleeves of her outfit fell right to where her fingers extended out. Her hair was a shade of gray; but not the gray from old age, but simply a unique shade that only few humans got to wear. In her right hand, a small lantern was held like a basket; and shining from it was a warm gentle glow of light. The strange girl was heading torward where the farmers would be - the chance that one would be there would be a rarity.

However, she did have the chance to meet a farmer whom she could purchase produce from - after eating fish and clams for a week, she wanted something fresh. She smiled and eyed the pears and apples - grabbing two pears and an apple, she said, "How much?" revelealing an accent not from here - her fluency in the language spoken here wasn't too well. The man - a big man with broad shoulder, red facial hair and short - answered saying a few copper pieces would be sufficient. Reaching into one of her folds in the kimono, she pulled out the money.

"Basket?" she asked him

"Oh, of coarse!" He said, reaching under the stand and he grabbed a thin straw basket. She placed the fruit in the basket, and was off. Her hands were full - one holding the lantern, another holding the basket, so she couldn't eat the fruit she had just purchased. Now she had to go to the port and find the Myst boat. The girl felt weird; out of place - here really was a completely different culture. She ran through most of the docks and couldn't find the ship -she was lost in a foreign place.

Oddly enough, the ship, Myst lie right in front of her - her comprehension of the language was very small and she was expecting a big and glamorous ship - and that's not what she had received.
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toxias
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The Myst was completely empty. Sails lay neatly furled a top their masts, and ropes were meticulously coiled. The smell of the sea clung to the boat, but it was absolutely deserted. That is, until a young woman in her mid twenties opened one of the hatches that lay on the deck and climbed out. She was not taller than average, but her aura was so powerful it made her seem larger than life. Clad in thick, luxurious robes, her frame was adorned with dark blacks and deep blues. The edges of her cloak and the hems of her robes were inscribed with gold thread. Swirling runes whispered up and down in silver curls. For a moment, she examined the deck of The Myst she stepped forward towards the gangplank, her motions almost an effortless glide. Only when the woman reached the edge of the ship did she notice the two individuals making their way towards the Myst. Placing an elegant hand upon the balustrade, the woman dipped her head in respect, “Welcome to the Myst, Ismal Deiten and Senki Atashi. Allow me to extend thanks on behalf of Somnium for accepting this challenge.”
Edited by toxias, October 12, 2010, 10:34 pm.
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As he approached towards the ship, Ishmal's eyes narrowed. There seemed to be but one woman aboard and she came to the edge to greet him and another whom was making their way towards that direction. His eyes narrowed not due to the understandable greeting of newcomers, but to the fact that she knew his name instantly, not that, but she knew his actual name, one that was not used by anyone beyond those whom he knew personally any more sense entering into the world of the arena.
His hand resting on his belt at his hip twitched slightly near the handle of his broad sword. He didn't like the look of it so far. From that right there he only inferred the likelihood of a trap to come. Making his way up towards the ship he turned to openly check to insure that there wasn't some side men lurking about to ambush him. Returning his eyes to the woman he said as he came up next to the boat "and how is it that you know that name at a glance?" He demanded more harshly than proper etiquette dictated.
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"Yes," said Senki, agreeing. - she had a terrible accent, and this was the first time she had spoken in the native tongue since she arrived to this port. "How know?" she asked - it was her attempt at saying 'how do you know?'. The women seemd suspicious; and but there were a lot of things that wasn't normal here. "How you know of where from and how valuable for questing and treasures? She asked, again, showing her terrible fluency in this language; it just wasn't her thing.

However, Senki was releaved that she had stumbled upon the right ship. But until then, her mission was escaping the island she was living on - it never dawned on her how mysterious the letter she had received was; how it mysteriously got to her. Was someone watching her, perhaps? Or had hardwork finally payed off after long hours of disobeying her customs? She didn't know.

She just waited for the mystery-women to say something.
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If Morrianne felt threatened by the movement of Ishmal’s hand towards his sword – or if she had even seen it – she revealed nothing. However, as she watched Ishmal scan the ship quickly for attackers before asking a harsh question, the corners of her mouth curled up into a softly amused expression. Clearly she did not find anything about the powerful man disturbing. Whether or not this confidence stemmed from authority or something else together, no one knew.

Morrianne’s eyes slipped towards Senki she, too, spoke up with wary caution. Morrianne paused for a moment to draw breath before she answered, “My employer is very well informed and more than capable of fulfilling promises. However, I must leave the rest for Somnium to explain to you.”
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The dock hands all gave him disgusted looks as he made his way up it. He walked up one side searching the names of the ships and walked past a foriegn woman who barely spoke the language. He was searching the wrong side and soon he got to the end. With a sigh he turned around and headed back the way he came searching the names on the ships. 'Myst' he read as he finally found the ship. He looked up at the confrontation on deck and addressed them not knowing who was in charge here. Greetings, My kind recieved a letter dictating that he come here for a quest. He has fallen ill and could not make it so he sent me the head of his guard. My name is Kratic, but I perfer to be called Krae. I hope I will be applicable for the position in place of my King. His voice was melodic and to most humans was enticing. Elves had a way of speaking that sounded like hundred of instruments playing harmoniously at once.
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Ishmal eyed the figure, he didn't like this. There was something aloof here...but what was worse was some genius decided to come up from behind and speak up at about that time. As the man approached Ishmal turned his hand gripping the hilt of his sword for a moment before eying the elf. Dear merciful gods what the hell was up with all this rubbish. There is either someone crouched in wait or he is likely to get struck by lighting from some conjurer or something as things were going.
The trained fighter snarled his lip and turned around to look at the ship bound figure once more. "enough of this swill! I came as requested so let's be done with this already!" He barked. He wasn't one for social pleasantries nor did he like the present predicament so his tolerance and patients were at their minimum at the moment.
The Laughing Gnome
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Senki had not a clue what was going on; the language that was used was rather difficult wording; whether it be the dialect, or how it was presented. She had body language to rely upon; and as another man entered into the scene there were two contrasting postures. The man that began questioning the other lady was standing defensively; he was keeping his guard up. While the other man stood there and calmly - and when he spoke, it was an amazing thing; it was a lurious melody - something she that she would compare to the nature during sunrise.

Senki decided that defense would be the best thing - but she knew that trust would be needed. She didn't enter into a defensive position, however, she did scan around the area knowing where everything was; dock posts, boats, crowds of poeple - so if she had to leave in a flash she knew how to. Her eyes could immediately tell you that she was slightly concerned and believed this was quite a stupid idea. She left from another country to come to a place that's not even like where she was from - but she was in now and she wouldn't turn back.

To answer Morrianne's questions, she simply said, "Very good," her way of saving "OK" in the broken language she knew.
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.

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