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Post by irishmagician on Aug 28, 2011 23:43:45 GMT -4
Erfryn the Sage. A genius in his field, a master magician, top researcher and High Magistrate of the Oakdale Academy. Though his quirky behaviors and hobbies have rendered him into an academic pariah, he makes a point to travel time and again; to have a chance to gather information for his research and use his gifts to help others he meets on his travels. Indeed, for however indirectly, he has by chance interacted with each one of you. As a mentor, as a friend, a favor owed, or as a distant acquaintance.
One day, it came as a surprise when you received a message from Erfryn; by magic, by letter, or by messenger. Nevertheless, the intent of these are similar:
"Dear friend and colleague,
It has been quite some time since I have last had the pleasure to meet with thee! How I yearn to once again travel these fair lands to see and experience new people and tales! But alas, my duties as High Magistrate and Researcher at Oakdale Academy have kept me here; though my fellows in practice would certainly wish otherwise.
I am writing to thee today to inform you of a grand discovery I have made in my research! I came upon it quite by accident, you see. This one day, I was eating a delicious noontide meal of a eel-and-liverwurst sandwich, covered in...well, that's another story that I needn't bore thee with. Anyways, the short-version of the story, I came upon a rather astounding flash of inspiration! After many feverish nights, I managed to bring my research to a peak never before imagined! My results could even possibly change the course of history in Dorien, or beyond!
I am sure that thee would understand that I cannot just explain in simply in this message, as it could fall into the hands of my "fellow" researchers...though I would rather call them imbeciles, than researchers. It would please me greatly to share this discovery first with my dearest friends that I have met upon my travels, before I unveil it to the world. I most certainly understand the financial burden it may incur through such a journey to Oakdale; I would be happy to provide compensation to those traveling long distances to this place.
I would meet with thee by the coming of the next full moon, which should give thee ample time to arrive in Oakdale. I will have a servant meet thee at the Dragon's Claw Inn, just nearby the Town Square in Oakdale, that evening. If thee would arrive early, I am sure that the accommodations would be most hospitable; I am on quite good terms with the innkeeper there. Just mention my name to Flog (a rather simple name, isn't it?), and I'm sure he will be able to help thee.
I look forward to seeing thee soon, dearest friend,
Erfryn the Sage."
As you soon catch sight of Oakdale at the end of your travels, you find yourself arriving the afternoon of the day Erfryn is expecting you. The town square is bustling with activity, of students and villagers going about their business before the shops close for the day. On one side of the square, varying shades of colored smoke rise from a chimney of one store; it's customers scurrying in and out with varying bottles and scrolls.
At yet another, a halfling with an enterprising eye leans jauntily in the door way of a shop; a sign swinging high above his head, reading "Rin's Odds 'n' Ends." Every so often, he catches the attention of a prospective customer; wheeling and dealing them into the shop, despite their best protests.
On the other side of the square, the sound of a hammer striking an anvil rings clearly forth from a smithy. Across the way, cloaked figures stride swiftly in and out of a shop, a sign identifying it as a "Fletcher's Shop."
Finally, a rather plain looking Inn sits stoically amongst the hustle and bustle of the square. A faded sign, shaped like what looks like a talon, reads "Dragon's Claw Inn." Occasionally, a loud voice roars out from the establishment, and a drunkard or two come flying out of hastily opened doors. As the doors close behind them, the back of a seething half-orc can be seen retreating into the depths of the Inn.
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Post by joviality on Aug 30, 2011 9:57:23 GMT -4
Cael stepped down off the wagon of the caravan he had traveled with from the coast, brushing the grime of the road off of his clothes. He thanked the driver of the caravan for his hospitality and paid the transport cost. Cael's first thought was that he was hungry. Travel has a way of making one peckish.
"Ooh, I'm so excited to be back in Oakdale, Cael! It's been decades! And we left so quickly last time I barely remember it!" The bow on his back practically quivered as the words issued forth.
Cael smiled. He was happy to have Naria's youthful vigor with him as always. "I am excited as well. It has been many years since we have heard from our dear friend Erfryn. He was instrumental in bringing you to me, you remember I've told you. We owe him a great deal for his help. And I'm sure he's interested to see how you've grown."
Naria continued to ask questions and talk excitedly about everything she wanted to see of the town while Cael thought about their next course of action. Going to the inn was the logical next step, as it was getting on afternoon of the meeting day. Based on the letter, he expected that he wasn't the only one who had received one, and he hoped he wasn't running late.
And so he set off toward the Dragon's Claw Inn, pausing only a moment to ask Naria to remain quiet while he spoke with the innkeeper; not everyone is used to the idea of talking longbows, especially ones who tend to babble about in Elven. Inside the inn, Cael allowed his eyes to adjust to the darker interior and then stepped toward the bar. His Common was getting a workout on this trip, though it flowed as easily as if he were living in Oakdale yesterday.
"Ah... Flog is it? I am Cael, here on recommendation of master Erfryn. He wrote to me that arrangements had been made...?"
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Post by Juniper on Aug 30, 2011 11:34:24 GMT -4
Miriam spent the entire journey back home to Oakdale glad she had decided to travel alone. She had reread Erfryn's letter every night, until she was fairly sure she could recite it by heart. Erfryn's odd tangents and disconnected rhetoric would send her into fits of giggling at random intervals, and she was fair sure that at least one of the merchant caravans that had passed her on the road had decided she was insane. She certainly hadn't been asked for the usual traveler's blessing, although she'd said it anyway, once she'd recovered herself, sending Desna's guidance winging its way to the strangers.
Now, though, she was tired and dirty as she wouldn't have been had she arranged to ride or be carried a-wagonback at least part of the way, and she pushes the inn door open with a weary sigh. She makes a strange sight, with stars and planets winking in and out against the dark backdrop of her cloak, hood drawn over her face, and the image doesn't much improve when she pushes the hood back to reveal Desna's starry butterfly writ in angry red across her otherwise ordinary human face.
Still, she smiles as soon as she sees the innkeeper, even though he is clearly busy with another arrival, and the light of her smile sends starry radiance shimmering for an instant across the mark on her face. "Flog!" she calls cheerfully, "Are you running this place now? Did your da finally let his fists loosen on the alecock, then? Good thing Desna's still holding up the stars, else I suppose the world would have ended as soon as he gave you the keys."
She directs her smile at the other man. "I won't get in your way...I must put up at the Temple or mother Amara won't forgive me. Just stopping in for dinner, I suppose, and to wait for Uncle Erfryn's messenger. I suppose you are another of his friends?"
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Post by irishmagician on Aug 30, 2011 12:56:16 GMT -4
The half-orc's eyes almost roll of their sockets at the mention of the gnome's name, his annoyance showing clearly on his face.
"Aye, that crazy bastard has gone ahead and booked all of my best rooms! He best be hope'n that I don't get other customers look'n for a bed, I'll wrangle that tiny lil' noggin of his..." he mutters, the vague threats trailing off. As if realizing he was actually speaking with a customer, he attempts a hospitable smile (as much as a half-orc can, anyways).
"Sorry to let you hear that, sir. Please feel free to use any of the rooms on the second floor..." he says, trailing off again as he glances over the elf's shoulder as another customer entering the inn greets him.
"Who is...Miriam! By Desna's stars, it has been a while, hasn't it? It did take quite some convincin' of that old coot to let me run the place. He up an' decided to relive those "glory days" he used to ramble on about. He used to be quite a woodsman, you know? He's off on patrol in the Silverleaf right now, though he should be enjoying his retirement if you ask me."
He turns to look at the elf and the human. "Well don't let me hold you all up with me ramblin'. Let me know if there is anything you need." The innkeeper heads back behind the bar, and starts cleaning some mugs in preparation for the evening crowd..
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Post by joviality on Sept 1, 2011 10:54:59 GMT -4
"Yes, I am. He was a mentor of mine many years ago, and I owe him for the skills he helped me to cultivate." He smiles a bit sheepishly and turns to Flog. "Thank you, Flog, for the hospitality. If it's no trouble, I'll take my dinner over there at that table." Cael points over to a sizable table in the corner. "Feel free to send over any of Erfryn's friends that drop by. Perhaps you would like to join, milady?" He says this last looking at Miriam.
Cael then gives a nervous nod to both of them and walks over to the corner table. He wasn't that great with talking to people, especially non-elves.
As he walks over to the table, a flurry of whispered Elven floods his ear. "A half-orc, Cael! I don't know if I've ever seen one of those before, not so up close! Did you see his tusks?! He was pretty friendly, too! I want to talk to him, can I talk to him?"
Cael chuckles to himself as he sits down. "I'm sure you'll have the opportunity eventually, Naria. Did you see that woman's fine cloak though? It was a wonder to look at! Reminded me of nights under the boughs of L'thonriel."
"She seemed really nice too! And I think she's going to have dinner with us, she knows Erfryn!"
"I think so... I'll be sure to introduce her to you when she comes over." Cael smiles a bit. Meeting new people, being in foreign lands, this was all surprisingly fun. He relaxes a bit and chats casually with Naria until either food or Miriam arrives.
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Post by Juniper on Sept 1, 2011 11:41:29 GMT -4
Miriam follows Cael almost immediately, eyebrows raised at the flurry of whispered elven issuing from the man's pack. She doesn't speak the language, but that still seems a strange place to store anything alive. Perhaps, despite rugged appearances, he is a wizard or a sorceror with a familiar. "Bring some wine, Flog," she calls behind her. "The good stuff Amara makes you stock."
She smiles as she sits down. "It seems strange to meet friends of Uncle Erfryn I don't already know, but he's always reminding me how painfully young I am. He knows people from all corners of the world, even if I can't get him out of this one anymore. Desna must be joyous at such a gathering of travelers! Is there a story tied up in your meeting?"
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Post by comicsans12pt on Sept 1, 2011 11:51:51 GMT -4
Ori had the driver drop her off a ways before town. She wanted to uncramp her legs before settling down for the evening. Not having been there before, she could hear Teeg's voice in her ear telling her stories about his time spent here. He would have her laughing so hard her eyes would water and her sides would hurt. That old Dwarf had no business around magic but it did make a great story.
As she walks into town, she sees the town square and the shops that she'd heard about. There are one or two unfamiliar names but she wasn't sure whether they weren't there in Teeg's time or if she just didn't remember him talking about them.
Then all at once she hears a familiar tone of voice and turns toward the sound. Just then she sees the back of a half-orc after he's rather deftly escorted a couple of unruly customers from his establishment.
Ah, the Dragon's Claw Inn. She was relieved that that was where she would start. A tavern like that was where she spent the last part of her life and truth be told, she could use an ale about now.
She enters into the inn and approaches the bar where it looks like the half-orc she saw earlier keeps court.
"Is that a southern porter i smell? If you have a fresh piece o' mutton to go with that, i'd call it a meal. You wouldn't be Flog by any stretch o' the imagination? Erfryn swears by your hospitality but by the smell, i'd swear by that porter. If you're using new oak to store it, i'll have two of 'em with supper."
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Post by joviality on Sept 1, 2011 17:23:33 GMT -4
Sitting down with Miriam, Cael puts his pack on the floor, relieved to have the weight off of his shoulders. Naria still strapped to his back, he begins to introduce himself to Miriam, smiling as he does so.
"Why yes, there is a story to how I know Erfryn, though I believe introductions are needed first. My name is Cael'thas Andlues, but you may call me simply Cael. I hail from Tal'Silvas in L'Thonriel, and I am a woodsman and bowyer by trade. My specialty is in longbows and their enchantment."
An excited noise comes from behind him, and Cael looks over his shoulder at the bow strapped there. Smiling, he lifts the bow off of his back and places it upon the table gently.
"And this is my companion Naria'calen. She has been a close personal friend of mine since her creation a few decades ago."
A female voice issues from the bow, the string vibrating in accord with its tones. "Pleased to meet you, miss. I'm Naria. Cael and I have been together ever since Erfryn helped him enchant me."
"And that gets to the story of how I know the sage," Cael interjects. "I was having difficulty in bringing out the magic in my items, and was at my wit's end trying to solve the problem after many years of research. And so, twenty-something years ago I came here to Oakdale in search of a different perspective on the topic. Erfryn gave me that perspective, and here we are today, with my dear friend Naria. Though we are certainly grateful to Erfryn for his help, we have not seen him in many years, and are looking forward to a reunion."
Cael smiles a moment, hoping that wasn't too long of a story to tell right from the beginning. "And you miss? I presume your name is Miriam based upon the barkeep's address, but is there perhaps a story to go along with the name?"
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Post by irishmagician on Sept 1, 2011 21:31:52 GMT -4
The innkeeper looks up from the mug he was cleaning; learning from last time, his eyes only look like they're thinking of rolling out of their sockets at the mention of Erfryn's name.
"Aye, that be indeed a south'rn porter; received a barrel o' two from Talinshae this mornin'," Flog says, his mild annoyance turning to a nod of approval. "Let me ask the fair lady in back about the meal." He sticks his head through a doorway behind him, presumably into the kitchen. He mutters something, and ducks sharply as a rather accurately-aimed pot sails past where his head had been. Retrieving the pot and hurling it back into the kitchen with a crash, followed shortly by several choice expletives in Orc, he turns back to the dwarf.
"Sadly, the mutton was just put on the fire to cook. It'll be ready...in about a candle stripe or so, if you'd like to wait."
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Post by comicsans12pt on Sept 2, 2011 13:33:35 GMT -4
Ori lets out a hearty laugh.
"If she can throw a pan like that, she can handle a piece 'o mutton. I'll take the wait and two o' those porters to start."
She looks around the room. "Can you point me to where Erfryn's guests are? I should probably introduce myself since nobody will know me."
Ori lays a gold piece on the bar. "For keeping a decent porter and a fair lady in back. Nothing like a proper tavern when you're in a strange town."
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Post by irishmagician on Sept 2, 2011 19:54:43 GMT -4
The half-orc nods in the direction of the elf and human in the corner, resuming his preparations for the evening rush.
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Post by Veritas on Sept 3, 2011 19:57:35 GMT -4
A prematurely weathered hand grasps the door at the entrance of the Dragon's Claw Inn, and yanks it open with an easy familiarity. The man who steps in is above a human's average height, at an even six feet, and with bright blue eyes, he looks about the room. Hair cropped short to a couple inches in length and turned blond in places by constant exposure to the sun ruffles in the slight breeze brought in by the open sun.
Wearing a dusty, knee-length brown leather jacket and matching boots, with the sight of light chain concealed under, the man looks to the room for a second, before his eyes lock straight onto those of the half-orc bartender. He walks forward, slowly, lips curling into a sneer, which accentuates the scar pursed exactly on the right corner of his lips. "You green sadistic bastard," he says, as he steps on up to the bar.
"Where's my pint of bitter! Didn't old Erfyrn tell you I was coming back early? That's the ticket!" with a laugh, Professor Vincent Mapleton scatters some silver coins on the counter. "He said he was calling some other chaps out to meet with him. I suppose you've heard of those too?" Flog, assuredly, is nodding to the corner. It's that time of the day. "Here, give me that mug and I'll be out of your tusks." With a final laugh to his favoured bartender, Vince steps away from the bar and moves towards the corner.
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Post by Juniper on Sept 6, 2011 10:43:16 GMT -4
"Twenty years ago? I suppose that explains why I never heard of you from Erfryn." She takes in the graceful curves of the bow with an expression of joy, almost reaching out to touch the smooth wood before it occurs to her that might be overly forward. "As for my story...it is much sadder than yours, I am afraid. I was sold as a child, the mark on my face seen as a curse. Erfryn met my master when I was, oh, eleven or twelve, I think, and recognized the goddess' favor. He bought my freedom and found me a home and a family in Desna's church here. So I call him uncle, and the priestess mother, and love them as I was not loved until they saved me."
Her voice trails off and her eyes seem to unfocus for a moment, then she comes back to herself with a joyful smile, directed at the man approaching.
"Vincent!" She jumps up to hug the newcomer, cloak swirling rapidly with her enthusiastic movement, then quickly turns to perform introductions. "Vincent and I spent most of our summers in trouble, as we were much of an age and both fascinated with the Academy. I stayed with Erfryn when the temple novitiates were sent home for the summer, so I could get us both in."
Her eyes turn briefly serious again as she scans her friend's rugged appearance. "The road has not always been kind to you, has it? I must teach you the traveller's prayers before we part again, so that Desna might protect you as she does me."
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Post by Veritas on Sept 7, 2011 20:28:35 GMT -4
The smile that crossed Vince's face is easy and honest when his eyes catch sight of Miriam, and he laughs as she hugs him, one arm sliding around to return the hug. "Miriam! I should've expected to see you here. Old Erfryn would have called on you...for whatever it is that he's figured out.
"And yes, the road has been, well. A road. There's a lot of dangerous places in the world that need poking into, and I've found a few of them, anyway. But it hasn't been worthless, and what are a few scars compared to knowledge? Nothing, old friend, nothing."
Afterwards, he nods to the others at the table. "Vincent Mapleton. You can call me Vince. I teach history up at the Academy on a part-time basis, when I'm not digging through one old ruin or another. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
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Post by comicsans12pt on Sept 8, 2011 6:53:55 GMT -4
Just as Vincent is introducing himself, Ori, Southern porter in each hand, steps up from behind. Meaning to walk around Vincent, instead, she is bumped from behind and sloshes most of the contents of a pint of porter into the back of his leather coat. Next comes the sound of the tankard dropping to the floor.
Instinctively Ori turns to the person who's caused the trouble. In one motion she turns, sneers, draws her hammer with her free hand, and opens her mouth to give a withering comment. Instead, she breaks out in a big guffaw laugh. Standing in front of her is an Academy aged girl, eyes as big as fall apples, looking horrified and holding a copy of one of Vince's books and a pen.
She turns around again, this time to face Vincent Mapleton.
"Many apologies for the poor delivery of Flog's finest. I believe the young lady," Ori motions to the young lady, " was a bit overconfident in my Dwarven balance. I also believe, she might want an autograph."
At this Ori does move around Vincent to the table leaving Vincent looking at the the girl and Ori looking at the others.
Setting the second tankard down on the table Ori then bows and says, "Honoria Brighthammer at your service. My friends call me Ori and I hope you might see fit to do the same, The entertainment is on the house and, um, Professor Mapleton."
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