Saroune perked up. If there was anything she could talk about at length, it was magic.
"My tutor, Martiln, taught me that while he accompanied my parents' caravan. It's rather fascinating illusion for initiates. You see, according to Abenathy's Law of Sympathy states that effects are liable to have an outward physical or mental 'appearance' similar to their causes. The colored sand I use has enough of an appearance to the spray to create that link. Then, applying the concepts of Janne's Law of Positive Attraction, Schmendrick's Law of Invocation, Milamber's Law of Power Words, and Pallando's Law of Conservation, I channeled the requisite energy to produce the desired effect. To be honest, that was the first time I've ever used the spell outside of an academic setting. I'm glad that the theory holds up in practice. I'm sure you've experienced something similar in playing the violin."
Olivius overhears part of what Saroune is saying, but understands none of it. A tinge of disappointment colors his celebration and he downs his third pint in one gulp. How will he ever learn magic when a spell could involve so many laws and complicated sounding crap?
"Uhhhhh. You lost me." Ping says after Saroune finishes explaining."Oh my name's Ping Ibbleting, by the way. I'm from Whistledown, but came here when I heard about he festival. I was going to try and earn some coin selling paintings, but someone took offense when I tried to make his shop look better." she finishes with her arms crossed and a pout on her face. Her eyes are shaded by a cap on her head.
Asuriel finally makes her way in, gracing everyone with her presence. She observes that the entire group from the northern goblin danceattack is present. She catches sight of Horatio first and takes a step in that direction only to notice Pavanna nearby. She gives a courteous nod and keeps moving.
Instead she makes her way over next to the singing dwarf. She smiles broadly at his singing and even attempts to clap her hands in rhythm to it. She takes a seat and signals Bethana for a drink.
The dwarf laughs heartily as he finishes the song, looking on in wonder that he actually managed to sing. "Well, shave my beard and call me a midget! Must be all the alcohol"
After finishing, he downs his whole mug of beer, laughing heartily and grinning. "Well, the gods must be smilin' on us today. Killed a whole horde of gobs, AND I didn't butcher the song!" He nudges Olivius in the side, and laughs heartily.
Olivius smiles and toasts. A good day, indeed. And a good song! But I need a couple more rounds in me before I reach your level of skill!
He bears the distinct body language of someone putting something behind him, but it is quickly replaced by the body language of someone trying their best not to remember the details of the victory party. He smashes pints with Thirzin and the fourth goes down the hatch.
The Dragon feels empty after the crowd that was here yesterday. Only few others are in there. The mood is jovial as the drinks flow, but before things get too far, a familiar group bursts through the doors. The Ulfen sailors from yesterday come in with a couple of the tieflings that had been there as well. A closer look shows that all of them are injured, and one of them is missing.
"Ah, the fair Maiden of the Dragon, I do hope you have mead, drinks, and meat aplenty for ours is a mighty thirst, and a mightier hunger still!" One of them calls out. "Sadly, Liulfr will not be joining us." the man says, much more subdued.
"Aye, but he did not die alone. He took six of those little green bastards with him. Tonight, he feasts in the halls of his ancestors. And tonight, we drink and feast to celebrate him!" another, this one older and broader in the shoulders, adds. A mighty cheer rises up and shakes the timbers that hold the roof of the Dragon up when he finishes. The sailors drink a toast to their friend before dancing and singing like before. The others, join in, but one of them spies Pavanna and makes his way over to her.
"Well met, though I wish it was on a better day than this. I am Tharis of Korvosa, and in whose lovely company do I stand tonight?" his eyes are red and his skin like ash. His hair is long and lanky, but despite his fearsome features, his smile and eyes hold genuine warmth.
Asuriel is laughing and clapping along to Thizrin's tune. When she finishes she congratulates the dwarf on a job well done. "My dear dwarf that was fantastic! I see that new hole in your throat did not have any effect on your talent. Come now, we must here another one!"
She glances at the door when she hears it open and her smile vanishes instantly. She unconscious reaches down and grabs the side of her chair with her left hand and slowly, ever so gently as to not attrack attention slides her right down to her scimitar.
Tieflings! More tieflings? They must be with Pavanna. Ah yes, they've gone right to her.
Asuriel's breathing quickens and a slight tremor shoots down her left arm. She grinds her teeth and watches every minute move the new pair makes.
Three tieflings.
A bead of sweat breaks out on Asuriel's forehead as her muscles tense, ready to spring from the chair at a moments notice.
During the rabble rousing Noro slams a few down she looks content, listening to the dwarf sing. she seems lost in thoght though.
As the dwarf is singing and everyone is making merriment. Noro slips back into the kitchen to speak with Lou.
she shuts the door and makes sure that she and Lou are pretty much alone.
she grabs some of Lou's secret stash of "Katsuri rice wine" and pours a couple of glasses for her and Lou.
How's mom? everything alright at home with the goblin attack and all.
she does not mention thier father.
Olivius looks around the room to see if his new battle-brethren are enjoying themselves and takes note of Asuriel. He has an some tense people in his travels, usually the caravan owners, but her spine was ready to snap. What's more, she was ready to fight. Not a good combination in a post-battle environment where everyone has just squashed their inhibitions toward killing things.
He slides off the bar stool with two pints and walks over. He sets one down in front of her and says discreetly with a bit more of a casual swagger than usual, Breathe. They aren't going to jump you. They're just Teiflings.
They're just Teiflings.
He obviously does not understand the wrath these creatures are capable of. I need to help show him later so he is better prepared. What was it Father Zantus said? 'wicked as any tiefling'?
Asuriel tries to slow her breathing down some by taking larger breaths. She swallows a mouthful of nothingness to try and relax. Her right hand still holds a death grip on her scimitar, her knuckles turning white.
If you don't relax Asuriel, your cursed brain is going to switch off and you won't understand a damned thing anyone is saying. How is THAT going to help you?
Asuriel closes her eyes and takes several more deep breaths. With her left hand she reaches up to take the ale. Her hand shakes at first but eventually she straightens out and takes a sip without spilling anything.
It will be fine. It's fine. I'm overreacting. They aren't even here for me. He's right, I just need to look away.
Asuriel reluctantly lets go of her weapon and slides her chair around so she is facing away from all of the tieflings. She looks over at Olivius and nods, "T-T-There we go. That's much better now. Thank you for the refreshment kind sir, it i exactly what I needed."
Glancing to Noro and Thizrin, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch all of your names. I know you're Olivius, who might you be? And are you all traveling companions or were you just here for the festival?"
Asuriel looks to Noro, "I do believe I've seen you around somewhere before. Do you frequent the cathedral perhaps? "
Noro responds to Asuriel with a luagh Me? Cathedral? yeah right, bout the only ushe I've ever had for them wash healing. not into much religion, Now I have shpent many more nightsh Under the Sheriff's watchful eye.
Ash far ash the feshtival an such. If ya haven't guesshed, I live here, alwaysh have, [/b] her face goes somber at this point, probably alwaysh will.
I thought so. Olivius grins behind his glass. He decides to stick around. This lady was going to need supervising if she wanted to hang around with Olivius's crowd.
Asuriel smiles and relaxes more. "Ahh, perhaps I can help you with that. We should talk sometime when things are a little more ... relaxed. I can share with you some wondrous benefits of visiting the cathedral outside of simply needing healing. No pressure of course
She looks to Olivius, "And you? What brings you to Sandpoint? The festival I suppose?"
Asuriel takes another sip of her ale and relaxes further.
There we go. Don't even need to think about the tieflings.
I'm here every couple of months. I was a caravan guard until recently. Memories of his recent dismissal and cheating cause another swig. We were delivering supplies for the festival. I was then... Relieved.
It's not all bad though. At least I met me a magic teacher. He smiles and motions to Saroune.
I'm here every couple of months. I was a caravan guard until recently. Memories of his recent dismissal and cheating cause another swig. We were delivering supplies for the festival. I was then... Relieved.
It's not all bad though. At least I met me a magic teacher. He smiles and motions to Saroune.
Noro smiles at Olivious's comment but whosh gonna teach ya how to fight.
Pavanna simply shakes her head and smiles indulgently at Saroune’s lapse into technical jargon, thankful that her own small gift for magic is a touch of grace from the Inheritor. Just getting my head around all of those principles and their interactions would have killed me with confusion. Or boredom, if I had to listen to too many lectures about them.
"Mother's fine. She worries about you, but then, so does half the town." He chuckles before sipping some of the wine.
"Everything is fine at home. I checked on the way back to the Cathedral." His mood darkens as he continues on the next bit.
"Father, of course is blaming everyone but himself for what happened today. I knew the man was harsh, but I didn't know he was also a bigot!"
Olivius snorts in his drink at Noro. You?
"Well, at least you're speakin' understandably, lass. I'm a bit of a temp'ry local. Just resting up before the next great adventure. From the looks of it, I've at least gotten some exercise from it, aye? Name's Thirzin, by the by. Sit down and join in the drinkin. Can't drink the kegs dry with just me, him, an that brawler woman."
The dwarf chuckles and points to an empty seat. He laughs at Noro's comment. "Lasd, if you teach him, he'll be picking his teeth from his eye sockets."
Horatio nods as Saroune begins talking - while he's never heard of Abenathy's Law of Sympathy, it makes enough sense for him to follow. The fanning of the sand correlating to the spray of vivid light is logical, and he takes another sip of his ale as he listens.
Soon, however, the various theorems and laws all blur togther in his head. He tries to remain polite and continue nodding, but it becomes more and more apparent that he actually has no idea what Saroune's talking about.
When she finishes, he blinks in surprise, but shrugs. "In a way, yes. I studied musical theory when I first picked up the instrument - chords, scales, the fact that every single piece of music you'll ever hear is made up of only seven notes. But none of that really means anything to me when I pick up Rosaline and start playing. I know what the theory is, but I don't think about it - once the bow touches the strings, it all comes from here." He holds a hand briefly over his heart, before running it over the neck of his violin. "I never studied magic - I'll never have any mastery over it like you do. But as you know, I can heal some minor wounds with song, and I have a rather... convincing personality. I can use some magic. But when I stand before a crowd of people and begin playing the solo from Przejście wiosnę, I can leave grown men speechless. I can bring a smile to the face of a sick fronter girl with a simple jig and reel. I can make an Ulfen warlord weep with pride when I play the final movement of Dauða konunganna. To me... that's magic. That's all the magic I'll ever need."
He falls silent for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat, and looking around the tavern. Seeing that everyone is in one place, and nodding to the Ulfen sailors when they enter, he stands, one foot on his chair, the other up on the table, and lifts his mug high.
"My friends and comrades!" he cries, nearly shouting to make himself heard above the noise of the tavern. "Today, some earfang bastards tried to take away our good cheer. But this is the Swallowtail Festival! The nights grow longer after tonight, and the dawn becomes ever more distant. And today, we fought back the monsters, and showed them that we will not - I repeat we will not - go quietly into the night! They tried to take away our cheer, but we prevailed! Some of us lost friends and family today, but we survived, and we will rebuild what was lost. But tonight, we drink to honour the fallen, and we toast our victory! In Cayden's name!" he finishes, pumping his fist in the air, and downs the rest of his ale in one long drink.
His speech done, he fetches himself another drink from the bar, pausing to clap the large Ulfen man on the shoulder. "You must tell me more of your fallen brother sometime, that I may honour him in song. I knew him not, but it sounds as though he fought well, and deserves to have his tale known."
He then sits back down, shrugging an apology to Saroune and Pavanna. "It seemed like the right thing to do," he explains, shrugging off any questions.
When the tiefling approaches Pavanna, he watches with a friendly expression on his face - though in truth, he feels cautious, and - yes, slightly jealous. He doesn't speak yet, though, letting Pavanna decide how best to react.
Noro smiles at the thought that Mother misses her
well, I'm shurpished dad hashen't blamed thish all on me yet.
Noro hops up and takes a seat on a table Not that it mattersh much really. But itsh funny, I shtill want to earn hish reshpect again, I want to be welcome at home again, <sigh> shomeday.
Noro impersonates one of her father's lectures about honor and life, looking and sounding a bit comical.
she finishes of her wine. and puts the bottle away
letsh get back out there, I'll help carry the food.
she grabs a bowl of spicy chicken and heads back out to the common room.
at Olivious' comment about Noro teaching him. she grabs his shortspear. Firsht thing ish, what do you intend to fight with thish?
Noro taunts him with the spear.
Nah. That's for Goblins. He points to the long Guisarme on leaning on the wall next to the door. Someone like you deserves that.
Well, at least you're speakin' understandably, lass
Asuriel frowns at this statement. "My apologies, in times of distress I seem to have some trouble comprehending the common tongue. It started several years back and I'm still working on overcoming this unfortunate affliction. I suppose I can count my blessings that we had someone with us who could translate for me, though I believe it could have transpired a little more smoothly."
Asuriel raises her mug to toast Horario's speech.
The nights grow longer after tonight, and the dawn becomes ever more distant.
Asuriel raises her voice and says, "It may grow longer, but the dawn always will come my friend, have no fear."
Asuriel turns back to Noro and studies her curiously. "Pardon me for asking, and I mean no disrespect, but your, accent? I'm not familiar with it? Your words are touched with a distinct twist?"
Turning to Olivius she asks, "
Turning to Olivius she asks, "
"That's just it, Noro. Father has forbidden Mother and myself from talking about you. When I was there, I told Mother that I would make sure that you were alright. Father heard me." Noro can feel Lou shaking from the memory of what happened.
"He forbade me from every speaking of you. He said that if the gods were smiling upon us, you were dead."
Tears brim the man's eyes as he looks away.
"I had hoped like you that Father would one day welcome you back home, but he has heard whispers of your actions and your connection with Jubrayl. I know you hold no love for the Sczarni, but Father has made it clear that what little hope you may have had of making him proud of you died when he found out that you were working for Jubrayl."
Anger floods back into Lou's eyes and his grip tightens on Noro's arm, before he lets go and takes a deep steadying breath.
"Ameiko sees you as her little sister too, and when she came to you defense, Father... he... called her some things I cannot repeat."
Tears stream down his face as he wraps Noro in a brotherly embrace.
"I am so sorry, my sister. If I could only have protected you from him. If I had been a better brother..."
Horatio's toast is returned with a hearty cheer as the Ulfens and the tieflings raise their glasses to join him.
When Horatio speaks of writing a song for the fallen man, the ulfen gives a sad chuckle.
"'Tis a shame that 'twas Liulfr that was laid low. He was the best of us at telling tales and writing songs. But what of yourself, friend? We've heard that while we were fighting at the docks you drove the little green devils from the town all the way back to whatever forsaken holes they crawled out of. Killed a score or more of the little bastards and drove thrice that many to jump from the cliff into the sea from what we have heard." said the man with a grin.
Turning to Olivius she asks, "So tell me, again not trying to pry but you've sparked by curiosity. Being relieved from duty is not typically a good thing, is it now?"
When the tiefling walked up to the table, Saroune mumbled something about talking to other people and took her leave. Truth be told, she had already dealt with enough new people today. She wasn't prepared for another.
She meandered over to where Olivius, Thirzin, Noro, and Asuriel were sitting, although she didn't join in the conversation. She lingered at the edge, unwilling to jump into what they were discussing.
No. And I don't really have much more than that. Some shady figures visited Glinter, the caravan master. Next thing I know I'm called in, paid half, then dismissed. I just hope I can find a new posting before my cash runs out.
When Saroune approaches the table, Asuriel jerks around in her chair quickly, eyes searching. Her hand instinctively reaches down to her hip once more.
Just the wizard...Relax!
She nods briefly to Saroune and motions to the table. "Please have a seat and join us. Asuriel spins back around slowly, still peering over at the gathering of tieflings out of the corner of her eye and takes another sip of ale. Looking back to Olivious she frowns once more at his statement of being dismisses. A frown is a look that seems to contrast the elegance of her features, but she holds it there for a moment. "Quite disturbing. Have you tried talking to this man, this Glinter? If you like, I could approach him or perhaps I could involve one of the higher ranking members of the cathedral. If you were unjustly treated we should be able to rectify this situation and make amends, no?"
"Oh yeah!" He sits his empty mug down and motions for a refill for himself and then motions for some for Saroune.
"Nice bit a' trick ya did in that fight, lass. What's your name?"
@Olivius:
Noro looks to the corner where his other weapon is located. Nishe, but when your ready to learn to figt, up closhe an Pershonal, come shee me. She twirls the spear around like a trained spearman/martial artist and tosses it back to Olivius.
@ Asuriel:
Noro gives her a look thinking she is making fun of her. Itsh called a Lishp, I have shome problems shpeaking properly. But I wash born here in Shandpoint and lived here all my life. My Father is Tien, like Amieko, my Mother ish Varishian.
after these conversation Noro headed back to the kitchen. then her conversation with her brother.
Noro hugs him. he can feel her anger building. she lets him go and takes a few deep breaths. I need shome shpace
Noro storms out of the kitchen. a firey rage burning in her eyes she is holding a small sake cup in her hand, painted with designs of a green dragon, the Kasuri family design.
she looks at the cup. and after a few seconds she lets out a yell and hurls the cup against the wall shattering it. and she storms out of the tavern. she looks like she is ready to fight. (but the question is who)
He falls silent for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat, and looking around the tavern. Seeing that everyone is in one place, and nodding to the Ulfen sailors when they enter, he stands, one foot on his chair, the other up on the table, and lifts his mug high.
"My friends and comrades!" he cries, nearly shouting to make himself heard above the noise of the tavern. "Today, some earfang bastards tried to take away our good cheer. But this is the Swallowtail Festival! The nights grow longer after tonight, and the dawn becomes ever more distant. And today, we fought back the monsters, and showed them that we will not - I repeat we will not - go quietly into the night! They tried to take away our cheer, but we prevailed! Some of us lost friends and family today, but we survived, and we will rebuild what was lost. But tonight, we drink to honour the fallen, and we toast our victory! In Cayden's name!" he finishes, pumping his fist in the air, and downs the rest of his ale in one long drink.
His speech done, he fetches himself another drink from the bar, pausing to clap the large Ulfen man on the shoulder. "You must tell me more of your fallen brother sometime, that I may honour him in song. I knew him not, but it sounds as though he fought well, and deserves to have his tale known."
He then sits back down, shrugging an apology to Saroune and Pavanna. "It seemed like the right thing to do," he explains, shrugging off any questions.
Just when I think I’ve seen every side of the jewel, he does something like that and another facet appears, Pavanna thinks bemusedly, covering Horatio’s hand with her own for a moment. “Don’t apologise — that was perfect,” she says gently.
"Well met, though I wish it was on a better day than this. I am Tharis of Korvosa, and in whose lovely company do I stand tonight?" his eyes are red and his skin like ash. His hair is long and lanky, but despite his fearsome features, his smile and eyes hold genuine warmth.
When the tiefling approaches Pavanna, [Horatio] watches with a friendly expression on his face - though in truth, he feels cautious, and - yes, slightly jealous. He doesn't speak yet, though, letting Pavanna decide how best to react.
It has been a long and trying day, Pavanna judges, her eyes quickly flicking between Horatio and Tharis, feeling the ache of the day’s exertions in almost every muscle. I don’t know if I have the strength right now to make a new friend and do justice to my current ones at once.... “Long days and pleasant nights, Tharis of Korvosa,” she says, using an Elven greeting she learned from her mother. “I am Pavanna Alazario, now of Magnimar.” She takes up the tankard of ale Horatio had waiting for her, the motion drawing attention to the emblem of Iomedae moulded into her pauldron. “My thanks for your part in the defence of Sandpoint and its people. I pray you can forgive my rudeness, but I fear I’m no fit company for new friends tonight. Should we find each other tomorrow, I hope I’ll be in better humour; until then, I offer a toast to your brave deeds today, and to the honoured memory of the fallen.” Matching actions to words, she hoists the tankard in a salute to the Korvosan tiefling and takes a deep draught.
When Horatio speaks of writing a song for the fallen man, the ulfen gives a sad chuckle.
"'Tis a shame that 'twas Liulfr that was laid low. He was the best of us at telling tales and writing songs. But what of yourself, friend? We've heard that while we were fighting at the docks you drove the little green devils from the town all the way back to whatever forsaken holes they crawled out of. Killed a score or more of the little bastards and drove thrice that many to jump from the cliff into the sea from what we have heard." said the man with a grin.
"True, but it is not me the bards will sing of. That honour will go to my companions," Horatio grins, nodding first to the table with Pavanna and Saroune, then to the cluster drinking at the bar. "I suppose I get the dubious honour of doing the singing. Were they really jumping?" he asks, his tone becoming slightly more serious as he does so.
Just when I think I’ve seen every side of the jewel, he does something like that and another facet appears, Pavanna thinks bemusedly, covering Horatio’s hand with her own for a moment. “Don’t apologise — that was perfect,” she says gently.
Horatio's lips quiver in a faint smile at Pavanna's words, a hint of the weariness coming back to his eyes. He takes another swig of his drink, holding the mug in his free hand; when he sets it down, he looks more alive again. "I suppose my speeches are improving," he chuckles, unconsciously rubbing the side of Pavanna's hand with his thumb. "Last time I tried one, I was forcibly removed. An interesting story, but perhaps not for this time."
When Pavanna lifts her mug to toast Tharis, he mirrors the action, finishing his third drink. Is it time to slow down? It's probably time to slow down, he thinks, but doesn't dare leave the table yet.
Olivius sits at the table, nurses his drinks, and keeps an eye on Asuriel. So far she was doing alright. Hopefully a good night's sleep would straighten her out. Maybe tomorrow Saroune would teach him something, and he her.
"My name is Saroune Anzoletta. I'm afraid we haven't yet met, master dwarf. May your family never have to make a deal with an elf," she toasted. She didn't know if it was a proper thing to say to a dwarf, but she was beginning to feel the alcohol, so it seemed right.
Tharis gives Pavanna a bow, seemingly not noticing the symbol she proudly displays, and says, "Ah, forgive me. I was taken by your beauty and did not think of how trying this day has been for all of us. I hope you are feeling up to making friends tomorrow as well. I and my friend," he gestures to the other tiefling singing with the Ulfens, "Will be here for a few more days before heading back. We heard whispers of your bravery even before we had a chance to rest. We would very much like to get to know you."
He mimes removing a hat as he moves back to the others he came in with.
Barely a minute later, Noro bursts through the kitchen door and comes to a halt only a few strides into the common room. She looks at the cup in her hand and after a moment flings it against the nearest wall, shattering it.
Lou enters the room just in time to see the cup shatter. He jogs after his sister, calling, "Noro! Wait!"
Ameiko is stunned, and asks, "What's going on? What happened?!" as the rest of the tavern goes suddenly quiet.
Ping was enjoying the mood. She wasn't about to match Thirzin, Noro, and Olivius tankard for tsnkard, but she did enjoy a mug of mead as she sat and watched the joviality of the scene unfolding before her.
I wonder if something this strange happens everyday. I wouldn't mind staying here a little while to find out.
Then everything goes topsy-turvy.
Noro comes out of the kitchen, violently angry and flings a small cup against the wall before making her way to the door. She's followed by her brother who calls for her to wait. The tavern has gone silent and the tension is beginning to rise.
Ooookay, I could live without having to deal with things like this.
Olivius looks around and sighs. The bards always ignore the after effects a battle can have. If indeed it was the battle that was causing Noro's foul mood. He pushes himself up and walks over to Lou. Anything I can help with?
"Stop her!" Lou answers.
Olivius jogs out the door, snatching his weapon as he goes, and gives chase after Noro.
Once he's within ear shot, he shouts Noro! Stop!
Olivius sees Noro heading down the street toward the bridge by the Brewery. across the bridge is the road that leads to the various manor houses of Sandpoint but also on that road are few fairly well to do farms.
she is walking determined to put an end to something.
she hears his calls and stops but does not turn around. Back off Olivius, this isn't your fight. It's....I can't explain it
she stands there her hands in fists the anger radiates around her.