coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 3, 2021 19:15:20 GMT
The blow had landed, but Simeon felt a strange pride glowing within him that the boy managed to carry on. He had been on the receiving end of strikes just like it from his instructors at the church, and he knew the pain that would be coursing through the boy’s body. Against all odds, the boy continued his assault. Once again he went for a thrust, but the look in his eyes warned Simeon what was about to happen. Instead of parrying the paladin took a half step back with his sword moving vertically in front of him - just in time to let a resounding clack sound around their campsite. But it seemed that the pain had overcome Dayne at last, and the sword slipped from his grasp with an exasperated sigh. As he scrambled to pick up his weapon with his other hand, Simeon pressed his advantage and stepped in with his sword swinging wide for the boy’s exposed mid-riff. ”Never drop your weapon!” he said as he brought his sword arcing towards the boy.
Rolls: To Hit: IezOJvsP1d20+5
1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 3, 2021 20:09:16 GMT
Just as he brought down his weapon the Paladin struck down at him with all the might the gods' blessed him with. Dayne, using his off hand, lifted the blade horizontally from his kneeling position. He knew that he did not have the strength to straight out repel the attack, so he did what came nature. Dayne allowed the weight and momentum of the wooden blade to impact with his own, and then he gave way slightly, pointing his own sword toward the ground so Simeon's attack would be redirected. With Simeon off balanced he knew he only had one shot to get a clean hit off. Both hand placed themselves on the hilt and he jettisoned toward the Paladin from where he was once kneeling. The motion and the way the blade was tilted from the defense was only good enough for a horizontal slash, but he was hoping that the parry was enough to give him an opening. Pain, inexperience, nerves? Whatever it was as he lifted he wasn't able to find purchase with his attack. If he was ever going to become proficient with the blade, he would need to practice as if his life depended on it. Rolls 7Q0nqvTI1d20+2
1d20+2
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 3, 2021 20:18:13 GMT
The paladin lurched forwards as the boy’s sword met his own, stumbling slightly as the boy utilised his lower position to send a slashing attack towards Simeon. The man didn’t have enough time to bring his own sword up so took a step backwards, his sword trailing out behind him as Dayne’s own blade missed him by mere inches. ”Don’t forget, people don’t always fight clean!” he said, thrusting his empty fist towards the boy’s face as his sword still swung uselessly behind him.
Rolls: To Hit: EhwQe03s1d20+5
1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 3, 2021 21:47:06 GMT
" Huh?" Dayne said as the words reached his ears, but it was already too late. A tough lesson in a fight, taught by nothing else than example. The bone knuckles collided against the cheek bone of Dayne's face. His head wrenched to the side and he could feel instant swelling. His body crashed into the ground, the two hits mixed with his own exertion more than enough to cause fatigue. Panting he rolled onto his back, huffing with great exaggeration as he looked up into the sky. The moon was still above, full and allowing light to illuminate the plain around them. Still there was something wonderous about the skies about. " The heavens are up there?" Dayne said, his voice shaking a little from his own huffs and a bit from the pain. " You win, I'm spent." Tracing back the spar, tracking back his movements and also studying Simeon's, he began to play the images over and over in his head. Mmmm... You might be of use to me yet. The haunting whisper said in his ear. Dayne was wise not to show his emotions when it came to the voice, especially since the last person he told went missing. Rolls Z2vj3EEt1d20
1d20
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 3, 2021 22:00:56 GMT
As the youth fell to the ground, Simeon winced inwardly. Perhaps he had been too hard on the boy… But, no, he had to be. Otherwise all of this would be for naught, if Dayne ended up in a real fight. Bandits wouldn’t pull their punches - literally or figuratively. Simeon’s gaze moved starward as well, the light twinkling reflectively in his eyes. He had spent many years staring up at the skies - a lot more time than his fellows at the church had thought healthy. Simeon Stareyes they had taken to call him, although in the past few years it was only when they were in their cups - he had surpassed most of them with an ease that reflected his Half-Elf gracefulness. He extended a hand to the boy, pulling him back to his feet. ”So they say,” he said in reply, smiling kindly. ”But I’ve always imagined that the heavens can be wherever you want them to be - if they’re the greatest place in existence, why settle for a location that isn’t perfect?”Scooping down he picked up the second wooden sword and walked over to the cart, placing them in their accustomed position in the back before walking back over to the campfire and sitting next to his discarded armour, sword and lute. ”Get some rest, Dayne. I’ll take first watch.”
Rolls: 254AD0HD1d20+5
1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 4, 2021 14:02:53 GMT
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 4, 2021 14:53:16 GMT
The southern gate of Triboar was manned with guards, as ever. Simeon locked eyes with them as the cart trundled through the gate, but they did not try to stop him - he had donned his armour, as he did for every day’s journey, and his Paladin profession was clear to see. Even these guards would not stop a man about the Lord’s work. Dayne had been speaking for a while about Triboar, filling him in on what the books said about the town. In truth he paid him little heed - books could only tell you so much and, although Simeon had not travelled through here before, he knew the kind of town that Triboar was rumoured to be. The first thing they needed was a place to rest for the night. Their journey hadn’t been particularly uncomfortable, but even Simeon disliked sleeping on a bedroll for too long. His eyes lingered on a huge building just off of the main road, a large sign naming it a “Everwyvern House”. The guards outside, or concierges as they would probably prefer to be called, were smartly dressed without any outwards hint of weaponry. They looked more like butlers than battlers, but Simeon saw the look in their eye - these were trained warriors, and no doubt had weapons stashed nearby. He shook his head slowly, instead deciding to continue down the road. The House would have been an excellent place to stay, but even if it hadn’t been too expensive it would have surely drained their purse down to their last coppers. They approached the town square, and Simeon’s eyes moved instantly to the large stone keep, proudly displaying the banner of Triboar - three boards running rampant on a field of red. The paladin’s eyes moved left and right quickly as they approached the centre, spotting a likely sign down a side street and turning the cart in that direction. The Frost-Touched Frog was smaller than Everywyvern House, and significantly less grand. However, the light and faint sound of contented voices from within assured him that it would be far more suitable. With a fant smile he pulled the cart over outside, hopping down just as a boy ran out of the inn to greet him. ”Stable’s just down the road, Old Man Karnveller will make sure your mule is looked after, and it’ll be locked up tight to stop anybody getting into your cart,” he said, reaching up and taking the reins of the donkey. ”Payment for room, board, and stabling is all done inside.”After Simeon nodded, he walked over to the back of the cart and pulled out a small backpack that he had filled with his most valuable items as well as what he would need for the night. His sword was still strapped to his hip, and the lute was strung over his shoulder. As the cart pulled away, Simeon motioned for Dayne to follow him as he crossed into the inn. The sounds of music and revelry filled his ears as he stepped inside, his face cracking into a broad smile as he felt the music filling his bones with joy. He stepped up to the bar, rapping his knuckles gently on it with a smile on his face. ”Room and board for two, inkeep,” he said, his eyes moving to the flute player currently on a small stage at the far end of the tavern, playing beneath a mounted elk’s head. ”And stabling for a mule and cart,” he added as an afterthought, turnin back towards the bar.
Rolls: Persuasion (cheap price pls): Kx7XByp71d20+5
1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 4, 2021 18:52:22 GMT
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 4, 2021 19:12:35 GMT
" Wow!" Dayne said to himself as he took in the scenery around the town of Triboar. His book open and quill sliding over the parchment with such grace that even the bumps of the cart couldn't interrupt him. To his surprise they were let through, without any inspection and nothing more than a gaze from the guards. Triboar was different it seemed and they had yet to enter. Dayne took note at the garb of the Twelve, perfectly illustrating with words how they looked, painting the perfect image in his head if he ever forgot. The rest of the city was no different, each and ever detail was meticulously scribed into the journal and burnt into his mind. One such thing that caught his eye was the floating driftglobes of the Everywyvern House. " I am gonna stay there one day." He said to Simeon, before turning his attention back onto the wonderous city. Inside his book he did something slightly different, a sketch of the house with the small balls giving light through the windows and what he could imagine the orchard to be. The area begun to turn more rancid, muck in the street and exteriors of the buildings spoiled from the weather- with no intentions of it being repaired. This was far from the child's home back in Waterdeep, yet he said nothing. A small boy suddenly ran out as the cart stopped and Simeon began to converse with the boy before calling out to Dayne. " Right!" The Fighter said, packing up his journal and then hopping off the cart. Grabbing both the wooden swords as well as his own small pack. As they entered the Frost-Touched Frog. The pungent smell of odor and alcohol smacked him in the face, enough to make his nose curl back. " Ugh," he said out loud, before quickly silencing himself. Simeon had said, the moment he was a burden that he would be back to Waterdeep, so he wanted to ensure that didn't happen. As they approached and business was discussed, Dayne began to focus on the customers inside the inn. Most drunks, some poor and others more outfitted to be an adventurer. Things were nice in their own strange way, simple. Suddenly the flute began to sing at a faster tempo and a man jumped to his feet, stumbling as he did so. Dayne could see that his cheeks were rosy red and his eyelid barely open on his right eye. Aside from that there wasn't much else to be seen, but the song was wonderful. The tempo was quick, the words were said in a way that randomly sped up in the perfect spot. " Kinda' like you!" He said with a laugh clapping along to the beat the others were doing. Rolls veuBJw3G1d20+2
1d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+2
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 4, 2021 21:23:53 GMT
The music, although it seemed to bring a good-natured ire to the barmaid (no doubt the eponymous Alatha Riversword!), brought a calm to Simeon’s soul that he didn’t even know was possible. He let out a deep breath, chuckling slightly at the words. ”Four silver pieces is a fair price, since you’re throwing in dinner and ale too,” he said calmly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out four silvers. ”A flagon each for me and the boy - we’ll take whatever you got cooking.”The barmaid muttered something incomprehensibly before slamming a pair of flagons down on the counter, ale slipping out and onto the dirty wooden top. Simeon picked up both, handing one over to Dayne. ”Alike, but different - worship of Milil comes in many forms, and many do not even know that their acts are favourable to the Lord of Song. And this man is probably much more talented than I,” he said with a smile, walking over to a table and sitting down. His lute, still slung over his shoulder, rang softly as he sat and it bumped into his back. The itch to play was dancing across his fingers, but to relieve this other man on the stage didn’t feel right - who was he to assume entertainment of such a crowd? The food arrived a short moment later - trenchers of bread filled with a hot barley soup. Simeon offered a word of thanks to the man, his stomach rumbling. Their food on the journey hadn’t been bad, per se. It just hadn’t been hot, delicious, and served in a place with live music.
Rolls: Percep (food+drink in the price pls): XT5D618X1d20+5
1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 5, 2021 15:35:44 GMT
The heavy wooden mug was given to Dayne without a second though. Handle grimy from the spillage of the ale that was slammed. There was a thick smell from the head of the ale, an almost putrid scent at first. As he lowered his nose close to the ale, without taking a sip, and begun to sniff out the flavor of the ale he noticed the rather inviting scent of berries. Not to say that the smell was strong by any means, but it was there, hidden under the heavy scent of fermentation. Simeon explained a bit, an explanation Dayne struggled to understand and avoided to question. How could one pay homage to something they didn't know they were paying homage to? He thought to himself as he tailed Simeon like his shadow. Taking a free seat at his side, Dayne looked up at the bard on stage. Still playing and allowing others to sing and cheer around him. " Music always seems to control the mood." He said in disbelief due to the sudden realization. He thought back to the time in his home, the soft music playing a heart wrenching tail of loss- making his mother cry. Then by time the play ended the music had shifted to a lively and cheerful tune, one that made his family clap with glee. How strange music was indeed. In the midst of thought the food was placed before them. The clink of the plate snapping Dayne from his thought process. Before him the bread was less than fresh, a bit stale to be frank. The soup hot, but riddled with low end meats and vegetables that were near the point of rottenness. A half hearted smile crept over the young man face, sure the adventure didn't have the best food, but this seemed... Off. He could only think but to compare it to his home cooking, which had very high standards. This- soup, was not up to par. Dayne looked over to Simeon who seemed to be over joyed with the introduction of the meal. They had paid good money for this, why was he happy? He waited cautiously for Simeon to take the first bite before he followed. Dayne began to tap the stale-ish bread with his finger and then pulled it apart with a crumbly crunch. He looked at it in disgust for a moment before dipping it into the oily soup. The bread came out warm and soggy, soaking up much of the liquid inside the bowl. He bit into it, the flavor not as bad as he had expected, in fact it was decent. Excited he reached down for his plate, scooping up the bowl at the first hot meal they had in a long time. The liquid poured itself into his mouth as he lifted it to his face, and it was nothing less than a river of fire. His tongue scorched and his throat swore he reached out for his tankard in a panic. The ale flowed into his mouth to try and sooth the burn, but he only could cough at his first sip of ale. The taste was sweet and bitter at the same time, thick but as it went down smooth, it was strange. He wasn't sure if he liked it. Coughing he placed the ale back down and gave a less than convincing smile. " The ale back home was better." He said lying through his teeth. Rolls Deception: 5MYzsGiP1d20
1d20
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 5, 2021 16:22:53 GMT
As the boy swallowed a huge quantity of the steaming stew, Simeon almost reached out to stop him. But he pulled back at the last second - he wasn’t this boy’s Father, even if he did feel protective of him. He quickly gulped down the ale, the burning on his throat evidently causing him to cough and splutter. ”No doubt this fare is more rustic than you are used to,” he said, smiling kindly at the boy. He ate his own food slowly, savouring the heat that flowed down his throat as he did so. Between the music, the hot food, and the feeling of being indoors for once, Simeon was savouring life. The flutist played a final tune, bowing before stepping down from the stage. Another man got up, evidently some kind of organiser, and started scanning the crowd. ”Who’s next? Who else will bedazzle us with their honeyed words?” His eyes caught the lute on Simeon’s back, and a grin spread over his face. ”Ah, a lute is perfect on a night like this! Come, sir, show us what you’re made of!”Several of the patrons around Simeon started to clap, and he felt a flush spreading up his neck. Pressured, he stood up and took one last draught from his flagon, wiping away the excess from his mouth with the back of his hand. The crowd gave a cheer, and a strange feeling of fulfilment filled Simeon as he walked over to the stage, removing the lute from his back as he did so. He had never performed for a crowd before - he had never even performed for anybody more than Dayne. But even as panic gripped him, he found words flowing into his mind, and his fingers began to move along the strings as if of their own accord. The flutist, still stood at the edge of the stage, looked at Simeon with a growing smile - he evidently liked what he heard. Simeon’s own smile grew, and he nodded to the man. ”The stage is big enough for two, friend,” he said, and the lutist leapt up - he had obviously been waiting for an invitation. It took him a second to recognise the key of Simeon’s tune, but then he picked it up and started to play. The combined instruments sounded out across the bar, blending and clashing with a beauty that Simeon didn’t even think was possible. ”The lute and the flute, ale down the chute, Drink yourself to the bottom of a boot. Country cider, vineyard wine, Find yourself at the bottom of a stein.
Triboar’s gem, Triboar’s pearl, Drink your beer until you hurl. Frost-Touched Frog, tooth of a cog, Morning time brings hair of the dog.”The bar all stamped their feet in time, although the words were foreign to them. Simeon’s eyes twinkled as he looked at the flutist next to him and received his nod of encouragement. ”Know your words, know your verse, Keep a tight hold of your purse. Feel the beat, feel the song, If it feels good it can’t be wrong.
Milil’s tune, Milil’s voice, Raise your drinks and rejoice. Drink to the left, drink to the right, Wile away the hours of night.
Tip your server, tip your maid, Do not let the music fade. Keep it fresh, keep it close, Just try not to make it gross!
So raise your drink, raise your glass, And admire the greener grass. Count your blessings, count your coin, And then invite a friend to join!”As the words faded, the flute picked up in intensity, blaring out a rhythm that caused several of the patrons to stand and laugh, crashing the mugs together as they stamped their feet in time. Simeon’s own eyes twinkled again as he continued to play the lute, watching with growing delight at the happiness that he had created through his words.
Rolls: Insight: KioNA|I21d20 Insight: 1d20 Performance: 1d20+5 Performance: 1d20+5
1d20·1d20·1d20+5·1d20+5
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 5, 2021 18:33:36 GMT
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coomer
Experienced Creator
Posts: 82
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Post by coomer on Mar 7, 2021 17:28:44 GMT
The night continued as it begun, with Simeon playing many tunes to the adoring crowd and receiving an almost constant supply of ale. Dayne too, it seemed, had managed to keep his own tankard full - although the effects of the ale seemed to be taking more of a toll on the young boy. It wasn’t long before he passed out right into his remaining soup, a surefire sign that it was time for them both to retire. He fought back the calls for an encore, clapping several shoulders as he passed through the crowd with his lute now strung over his back. With strong arms he lifted Dayne out of his seat, pulling his arm over the paladin’s shoulder and supporting him as they made their way up the rickety wooden stairs. Their room was plain, but liveable - and certainly better than they had experienced so far on their journey. Simeon dropped Dayne into one of the beds before crossing the room to his own, removing his boots with a sigh of contentment. His armour was placed onto the floor, along with his sword and his lute. He smiled at the memory of the songs that it had made before laying back and closing his eyes. In the morning, Dayne was definitely worse for wear. Simeon himself felt the faint buzz of the lingering alcohol in his system, but the smell of bacon and fresh bread brought the pair downstairs, Simeon clapping Dayne regularly on the shoulder with laughter. As the food came to them, the sound of a shout from outside told of work needing to be done, and a reward promised. Simeon was keen to get on the way, but he hadn’t visited a smith since he had left Neverwinter - and he didn’t want to make the long journey from Triboar without ensuring his equipment was fully maintained. ”I guess the ale back home wasn’t quite so strong, eh?” he said with a grin, eyes twinkling as he enjoyed his partner’s hangover. ”Just one stop before we set out - we can’t be travelling to Neverwinter with just a wooden sword, can we?”They finished eating and settled their bill, Alatha warmly welcoming them to come back any time. Simeon made a vague promise as he headed through the door, but part of his heart seemed to linger there - this was a place where he could create true joy, and that was not something easily left behind. The forge was close, and they headed there before going to the stable. Simeon’s knuckles rapped on a wooden post as they approached, his eyes trained on the man who had to be the smith - burly, covered in soot, and apparently very busy. ”I hear you are in need of assistance?” Simeon said.
Rolls:
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Balial
Experienced Creator
Posts: 113
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Post by Balial on Mar 8, 2021 15:57:37 GMT
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