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Graterras: A Wind Most Foul [IC/Reroll]


Raindrop Valkyrie

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The quiet Evys brought her hand round to the silk shawl curled gently across her neck, clutching it gently. She run her hand through it, silently watching as the group almost fought among themselves. She giggled inwardly at Mentheim's comment. Maybe she could win an arm wrestling match. She might have to burn her opponents hand. Or maybe ask for some wind. She'd have to bend some rules, but whats really wrong with that? Turning her attention back to the group, she noted they didn't get on very well. Some were just... obnoxious, at best.

"What hope do we have of defeating bandits and some undead creatures if we can't even decide who to send on a scouting party without tearing each others heads off?" Evys thought to herself, wondering what she could do to help. A small smile spread over her face as she remembered her true companions.

Her eyes flashed gently, a small rush of wind rushing through her. "Watch over them. Please." She whispered, before quickly snapping back to reality. Silently hoping nobody had heard her, she felt rather than saw a small elemental spirit flutter over to the dwarf. It would keep them safe. She hoped.

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((K_H, it doesn't work that way at all lol. Telepathic links can only send information, like thoughts but in the form of words. So it can't show an image or what something looks like. You could tell them what you see through it, but not show them, if you catch my drift.))

Ivo walked over to his chair and sat down in it. "Well whenever you lot are ready, I will send you to Gremen He is the man that knows the area." Ivo didn't say much more from that point, he quieted down as the group quarreled over who to send on the scout party.

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((Oh. that clears it up. I simply misunderstood the Parameters of the Link.))

Ivar nodded. "Well, I am ready for you to call him. I've decided that I shall be remaining with the main group, because i am not all that good with Telepathy."

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"Oh ho ho ho ho, Slairk is always ready for the job!" He said as he continued to twist his stash with his fingers. "Just tell me when and Slairk will give you monsieurs the most beautiful act of sneaking, that is if you can find Slairk, ho ho ho ho" He chuckled confirming he was ready.

Edited by EXLink32
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Lord Gradun pranced over to Slairk, all of his ornate, shining jewelry and various instruments clanking against each other in a musical jingle. "I shall accompany you, good sir," he sang in a merry tune. "Together, we shall find what awaits us on the road and slay it with no fear! It shall be the newest, grandest epic that anyone has ever heard," the Lord melodiously sang, totally forgetting that he had been on Oohagan's side in the first place.

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Mentheim walks over to Lord Gradun and smiles, "Unless you want that voice box to be converted into a pair of bagpipes, you'll just stay here and wait for the right time to use your...... skills.... Now, if anybody has any quarrels with who is tentatively on this scouting party, speak now or forever hold your peace. I've got places to be and things to kill."

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"But Ivar!" the Lord of Song and Dance sung out at a forte, "Going alone means that Slairk will have no companion. Therefore, I must go with him." Giving a small toot on his bugle, he continued, twirling around in melodious, clanking circles, "Now now, Mentheim, our skills are all to be used! However," he dropped the bugle and snatched his lyre, strumming it gracefully, "my skills are best suited for on the road. I am Lord Gradun, the Lord of Song and Dance, a bard that wanders to speak the stories of old."

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"So that means that you have plenty of songs and stories to help keep us entertained. Slairk, Mentheim, and Oohagan are the best three for the Reconnaissance job. on the other hand, you're best suited for helping us back here. Things can get a mite boring when there's near-absolute quiet other than the background noises, trust me."

Edited by K_H
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"Ah, but you see, my dear Ivar, I am supposed to travel with my stories!" The Lord twirled around again, sending up the melodic clanking once again. "I simply must accompany them."

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"Well, since you seem set on going, you can take comfort in the fact that you will be travelling. In fact, your determination inspired me to go with you. that way, not only can I relay what's going on to the guys back here, but I can also listen to your stories first-hand while I'm at it! After all, your reputation as the grandmaster of Song and Dance precedes you."

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"That, Ivar," the Lord sang joyously, "is an excellent idea." Lord Gradun took a moment to dance around the table gleefully, before coming to a halt by Slairk and Mentheim, the clanking having turned into harmonies to his singing. "When shall we depart, dear gentlemen?" he rang out, giving his lyre a quick pluck.

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Forlorn perked up at the prospect of actually doing something. So much so that he almost caused the chair to collapse underneath him.

After steadying himself a moment, he said "Beats sticking around here."

Edited by AuthorReborn
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"That is an excellent idea Mentheim. The Lord of Song and Dance should excel at getting the townsfolk to help us in our endeavour. Slarik, Mentheim and I will go scout the area, while Ivar can give reports to those in the town by using his ability with me. I can relay what I see and he can inform the others. You will have to explain to me how though. This is a new experience for me. Now I think we should hurry and prepare for the scout." Oohagan was getting tired with the long discussion and wished to call it a night soon.

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Roose kept quiet throughout. She was trained for combat, not stealth. She would be of no help on a scouting mission. She did, however, have to stifle a laugh at Gradun's oblivious stubbornness. Here was a man who did as he pleased, conventions be damned. He was completely and truly himself, a being who excused himself from the scrutiny of others.

Roose was a little jealous. She no longer remembered how to be herself, or what "being herself" entailed.

Her ears twitched. Her robes rubbed uncomfortably on their sharp tips. Roose bit her lip in discomfort.

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Forlorn shifted in his chair earnestly, eager to actually do something. It didn't matter it was just going to be walking around town in a blizzard only to probably have the various inhabitants scream at the sight of him. No, the only thing that mattered is that he wouldn't be in the inevitable dangerous, and embarrassing, situation of the chair shattering under him. If there was one thing that he had learned in his time in this world, it was that, no matter the race, people truly enjoyed watching the suffering of others.

"Well if there are no more objections, then we ought to get to it. There's no sense in waiting around twiddling our thumbs when there's tasks to be completed." Forlorn rose and extended his legs, satisfied to no longer be threatened by the most passive of wooden furniture. A great groan came from it, relieved to no longer be assaulted by the looming figure.

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The Lord of Song and Dance pranced around in obvious excitement. "Ah, yes, dear friends, let us be off!" he proclaimed while singing, yanking a guitar from somewhere on his person to the front and strumming in glee. "Show me where the nearest town be, so that I may begin to gain favor from the townsfolk to aid us on our quest!" Lord Gradun's eyes gleamed happily, oblivious to the aggravation that his companions were experiencing.

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Ivar had had enough. He stepped in the way of Gradun, looking cross, and Verbally Barraged him, starting off in a stern tone, sounding and looking angrier by the moment.

"Listen, Bard, I don't know what you think or whether or not you care, but let me just tell you one thing: The realities of War are much different than what the Songs and Legends would have you believe. They've been prettied up and twisted bit by the Winners of the Wars to put themselves in a good light and to make it not seem like as big a deal as it really is. And if you tell me that I'm lying, think again; there's probably at least one person in this room who's been tormented by Wartime Problems." At this point, Ivar was glaring daggers at Gradun and yelling. "And furthermore, if you couldn't tell already, we're already in a Town!"

Edited by K_H
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"Ivar, enough of your prattling." Ivo said striking the ground with a staff he was now holding. "I will not have you harassing those that have arrived here to do good work of our people. Besides, you should know Bards are greatly respected here in Aurora as they tell the tales of our ancestors and those of theirs. They are the ones that make us truly immortal. I wish to hear your tales sometimes Gradun, they are probably great ones of many other nations."

"Anyway, those of you should get on your way. I will have my man meet the scouting team, and the rest shall look around town to see if anyone has any more information. You might want to start on the edge of town with the man who spotted that horrible creature. His name is Karne, he is a hunter for the village. His lodge is on the outskirts of town, and should be easy to find. It is the one with the smoke always coming out of the chimney, and looks like an old mead hall.

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"Normally this is the part where I'd say I'll meet you all at the destination, but I'll put my ego aside here. Slairk, Oohagen, gather your things I'll be waiting for you at the front door."

Mentheim stood up once more from the corner of the room and walked towards the entrance of the room. "Oh and in case any of you decide to get any bright ideas, don't be the hero. You'll gain no respect from me for doing so."

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After Mentheim walked out, Oohagan picked up his tome and got up from his seat. He walked over to Ivar and said, "Keep listening to my mind young one. I will try and relay as much as I can. If something were to happen to us I will let you know. We know not what forces are hidden in the area. I think we should be cautious." Saying this he started moving towards the door. Realizing that Ivar may have to perform some ritual he stopped and looked back at him. "Do you need me to wait here so that you can make the link?"

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"Oh ho ho ho ho, Slairk is always ready for some sneaky business." Slairk chuckled as he walked towards the front door, a little after Mentheim had got up. He loved the thrill of listening in on people's conversations as he hides in the shadows.

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