Multiple Days between the 25th and 29th of Flamerule, 472KR.
Stories: Insights into the goings on of some of the off-stage members of the Sunset Wanderers and their associates…
Through the Looking Glass (apologies to LC) – Calaith.
A Section of Calaith Loreweaver's Emergent Story – Beyond the Stars.
"When Downtime becomes a new Adventure."
Calaith Loreweaver sat at his writing desk in his study-cum-bedroom, his attention raised momentarily from an object beneath the bed to the simple furnishing and blankets themselves.
"Why was it that Sharah had to have elaborate furnishings, not to mention clothes?" he thought idly, his attention wandering. "Probably women or some-such, not at all the realm of texts and tomes. Or research, now there was a thing," his mind refocusing on the collection of histories and battle lays organised on the surface before him.
Calaith shuffled the papers carefully, his eye scanning, but his mind already drifting back underneath the bed. "Sod everything. How could a man resist such a mystery?" And he stood, pushing away the simple backed wooden chair, and reaching beneath the bed withdrew his prize. The polished sheen of the vari-coloured inlay still made him caress the top of the strange puzzle box each time he held it. Resins and lacquers applied expertly by the unknown eastern crafts-people responsible for its design made the interlocking and moveable parts of the design seem as one, shifting the eye to individual scenes or the fractured pieces of a larger image.
His fine elven features creased slightly in a smile as he remembered opening the last section of the box only to discover this layer beneath. Sure he was near solving the mystery of the device he'd almost been nicked by the vicious, and cunningly concealed, staple claws that had engaged from either end. A close call, for upon later inspection the minute and razor sharp claws proved to have traces of sticky residue along their hairline edges. Laying the box on the rough linen bedclothes he stood back for a moment, lost in thought, eyes playing over the intricate designs of the object he had been gifted by Dizraxalaikus.
"Surely the Deep Gnome was not having a jest. He definitely had not seemed the type." Calaith's former good humor dissolved further into a penetrating scrutiny of the box.
And then his keen gaze found what Calaith had previously overlooked. He had looked at the box as an individual set of problems, not a whole. Smiling with the self satisfaction of a scholar nearing the end of his enquiry Calaith lent forward and re-arranged the various moveable parts of the last section of the strange container. The cavity within revealed not a further puzzle, but a mystery all-the-same. Laid upon black velvet, dusty and worn from lack of upkeep, Calaith found a reflection of himself, staring from the frame of an intricately carved hand-mirror, such as a lady of high estate might possess.
The Priestess and the Queen – Cathrykan.
A Section from Cathrykan Shintar's Emergent Story – Aspirations of Grandeur.
Finally after a month in this foetid excuse for a city, someone was applying the correct forms to ensure the respect due a royal lady of the ancient House of Shintar. To be marginally fair, (and when considering the Sh'zzr Hvrat this was a 'long-chain'), Cathrykan felt more than a little vindicated. Although her dynasty had fallen upon what lesser-creatures may call 'hard-times' threew…
A Girls Time to Reflect – Silifrey.
A Section from Silifry Dotsk's Emergent Story – Honour Bound.
As the rich incense and intonations of prayer for the Morndinsamman receded, Silifrey's mind drew inward, absorbing the comforting presence of community created by the dwarves throughout the Errudrakenath….
Many Busy Hands – Erro and Friends.
A Section from Erro Moonshadow's Emergent Story – The Darker Path.
Mae o' Fletcher's, or 'Cinder' to her clientele, carefully locked the stout wooden door behind her as she emerged into the cluttered Fletcher's Square from the dim interior of Mistress Cheeva's. Kordova's morning mists had not yet receded and the wisps of remaining moist air clung to the construction equipment, piles of wood and the already busy group of 'clergy' in the shrine compound they had claimed for their own. The dim light and mists gave the entire scene an ethereal and otherworldly appearance, and she started slightly, shivering despite the warmth of the humid summer air.
Duskwood Dilemnas - Expedition C.
The Wasting Time – Evnarra.
In Time for the Tourney? – Lando.
A Section of Lando Calraesa's Emergent Story – Paths to Glory.
"A brief encounter at the Hall of the Sunset."
Trying to use crutches to get around the ancient Hall of the Sunset was starting to annoy Lando after only the passing of one day. He didn't mind the breakfast in bed, courtesy of the Chef, which had eased his throbbing head and given him the necessary steel to try for downstairs. It was the damned flooring in hall that bothered him most, uneven, deeply pitted and now partially obstructed by piles of building materials and tools. His tanned face winced once more as he buffeted his cast left leg on an uneven stair, warped from years of neglect and use. Steadying himself against the balustrade he paused, mind and demeanour sharpening as he heard Silvio's voice, a trifle subdued, definitely a rarity. He was about to complete the journey down the staircase when his pain laden stride stopped in mid-movement as a second unknown voice joined the conversation.
Fire-wine and over-ripe plums. The hot nights around Westgate's harbour in the deep summer. Clotted cream and honey, with a touch of seasonal all-spice. Lando's mind ran to the poetic lines of half-remembered tavern songs as he peered between the top balustrades at the woman holding court over a noticeably rattled Silvio, seated at the table. Dark haired, darkly featured and slightly over-filling the tight leather outfit that accentuated her beauty rather than cheapening her appearance, the woman towered over Silvio, though she must have been but a few inches over five feet. The dejected looking guild leader had shrunk in on himself, nursing an early morning beer and looking like an academy-boy caught truant by the head-master.
"So your wonder-boy is injured, Kennard's away…and you're a tired old letch' who might have trouble drawing, let alone parrying with that blade you insist on desecrating?" laughed the woman, hands on hips, right thumb playing with the hilt of her gilded small-sword. Her lips pursed in a lush smile, their redness apparent in the candle-light as she tossed back her hair, obviously enjoying the moment. Silvio winced noticeably at the word letch' and twirled his mustachio, a sure sign he was bothered or tense.
"A trifle harsh my dear Bryana. I hope you are not insinuating that I was the sole dancer in our torrid little circle?" he replied with an acidic tone that Lando had not yet heard from the normally good-natured leader of their guild.
Snatching the discarded parchment from the table, Lando propped himself against Silvio's chair and read carefully through its' contents, blood rising and beginning to drum in his ears, the pain and discomfort of his leg forgotten…
Be it known to all Kordovans and Visitors to our fair city, that His Royal Majesty, King Ottovar I, doth hereby by ancient custom throw open the Challenge to all worthies that deem themselves free from crime or from treason to attend this year’s Tournament of the Seven Stars, in honour of his house and the impending marriage of his youngest child, Her Royal Highness the Princess Tevalya.
Presented by His most humble servant; Vintan Medura.
For the Delectation of the Viewing Public.
Over Two Glorious Summer Days.
The Crown of Stars – Presented to the premier duellist (noble or common) who wins through the Roster.
Kord’s Right Arm – Presented to the winner of the All-In Melee.
The Golden Quiver – Presented to the winner of the Archery Contest.
Thespian’s Mask – Presented to the preeminent Bardic Performer.
Prizes for Competitions in; The Gauntlet (Back by Popular Demand),
Knife-Throwing, Shooting, All-In Wrestling and Equestrian Steeple.
Demonstrations of Tumbling, Northern Jousting and the Menagerie.
To mark the engagement of Her Highness a floral tent of Wonders and Whimsy, the likes of which has never been seen.
And for her Groom the presentation of a special event, The Sack of the Highlands, brought to you by the Kordovan Slavers Kollective.
…an opportunity for glory, a chance to have Falcon sing a song of steel in the sunlight as he bested pretenders and peers alike. Lando smirked slightly, letting the page fall back to the table. Now this was what he was meant to do.
The Party -
None. Part of regular background XP from OFF Sessions.
Official Deed of Inception / Dedication.