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[Kinewa]

Prologue

Midnight. A light mist enshrouds the lake, swiftly thickening into a suffocating fog. All is silent. Bosh Na?lo, warrior and protector of Galania, the last Elven settlement, stands alone ten paces ahead of the militia. The elves behind him aren't used to battle, and show evidence that they have been pushed to their limits. They stand awkwardly, often leaning with their hands on their knees as a means to catch their breath.

Bosh stares studiously at the water, his hand trembling the slightest bit from lack of sleep and prolonged exposure to the cold. He too has been pushed to his limits. At this point there is nothing left to do but search, knowing that they will soon appear from the mists. His eyes are alert as always, but the firey look that had always been present in battle is replaced with despair. This is their last chance, and the odds are not looking good.

?Sir, do you see anything yet??

Without turning, Bosh recognises the boy?s voice, and smothers the anguish that rises within his heart. Gare is much too young to be here. After the recent death of Gare?s father, who was also Bosh?s best friend, the boy insisted on joining the second ranks of the militia. Although it killed him to see the child to be put into such danger, Bosh agreed to let him join, because he knew too well the determination that had been passed down to him from his father. Not moving his gaze from the water, he answers.

?When I see something, Gare, you will know it. Now please stand and wait with the others.?

?Yes, sir.?

Gare turns and begins to walk back.

?And Gare? I want you to know that I love you. I love you as though you were my own son.?

The boy nods, and continues towards the group. Just then, A screech is heard, echoing over the water. Tension fills the air as each of the protectors ready their weapons, many of them nervous and inexperienced. The glassy covering over the lake dissolves to nothing as the water ripples and bubbles. From the water arises dark creatures with vague humanoid shapes. Their figures are covered in large black thorns, and dark rags trail behind them. They have heads, but no faces, arms, but where their legs should be hang bits of cloth.

Once out of the water, they glide in the air towards the elves, their rank stench leading the way. As they reach the shoreline, Bosh cries out, releasing all of his rage and summoning any extra energy within himself. He raises his sword and charges towards the creatures, followed by his crew. The battle is quick, as a result of the little stamina left for the elves to draw from. The creatures wail, deafening all who are near, and fight back using their thorny arms as weapons. Despite their best efforts, the elves weapons seem useless against their foes. As the swords make contact with the thorny torsos, deep gashes are healed up within seconds. Spirits rise out of Elven bodies as pale silver wisps, swirling around the battle area and beginning to blend in with the mist.

At the sound of an anguished cry, Bosh turns from his enemy to see Gare nearby, a thorn protruding from his chest. The boy gasps for air, then falls to his side in defeat, his soul spilling out from the wound along with his blood. Bosh cries out, wails like the damned creatures around them. He knows now what he knew all along. It is over. Now he must do what he has been avoiding all along.

Crying out in a strange tongue, he raises his arms, dropping his weapon, and the mists begin to swirl around him. An orange light forms in the mists, spirals around the warrior, and disappears within him. As the last bit of light dissipates, he is struck in the leg by a thorny creature. He falls. The creatures lunge on top of him, finishing him off. They have successfully disposed of the group meant to kill them, and now the rest of their work will be easy. They turn in unison, as though they have a single shared mind, and head west, towards Galania.

[Kinewa]

The Roleplay

The roleplay is set in the continent of Talmarron, two hundred years after the events described in the prologue. It begins in a small human settlement called Strokesville, which lies in the former location of Galania.

Ever since the battle at Lake Gallamere, the Elven race has been extinct in Talmarron. The continent is now populated by humans, dwarves, and halflings. Although there are no living humans who remember the Elven race, there are still many Dwarves who live to tell the tale. Out of respect, the humans do the best to keep the memories of the Elven race alive within their histories, making sure that their children and grandchildren will grow up knowing of the plight of Bosh Windleaf.

Recently, Strokesville has been filled with unease. The crops are all dying this year. There are rumours that there will not be enough gathered in the harvest to last them through the winter. On top of that, small woodland creatures and livestock are mysteriously coming upon their deaths.

On top of this, there have also been rumours of a light mist reaching the town at night. This is a strange occurence, as the lake is at least a three day's journey away. There is a buzz around the townsfolk that the creatures fromthe histories are back. The demand for somebody to go to the lake is rising, so that the situation can be assesed before it is too late. ("Oh wow, is that a hint, oh great Dungeon Master?")



The Rules

Please PM me a profile before posting, that would be largely appreciated so that I can keep things organised and pretty and such.

I like to try and keep my roleplays literal. My posts might get a bit long(Ahem, prologue?), but sometimes I'll keep it down to a paragraph if there isn't much to say. Please try to do the same, instead of posts such as:

*Kills teh dwarf!!11!!11one!11!eleven!!111*

Please no Godmodding! I will let your actions be free as long as they make sense and follow your character description, but if things get out of hand I might have to impliment a dice system.

Map:


To learn more about a certain area or settlement, either have that area as part of your background or have your character ask an NPC about it.

[Kinewa]

The Characters

Please PM me your filled out character sheet, and once I've read it I will post it here. You don't have to stick to the basic ideas that I've laid out, just ask me and I might implement any ideas you may have.

[B]Name:[/B]
[B]Character Name:[/B]
[B]Race:[/B] (Human, Dwarf, Halfling)
[B]Age:[/B]
[B]Class:[/B] (Mage, Warrior, Rogue, Archer, Druid)
[B]Appearance:[/B]
[B]Weapons/abilities:[/B]
[B]Background:[/B]
[B]Gambits:[/B] Explain here what you would like your character to do in general situations if you are unable to post for a little while. Gambits could be something like: [Act as healer during battles] or [In all decisions, follow the lead of "___"]

Name: Mizukage
Character Name: Felixe
Race: Human
Age: 22
Class: Rogue
Appearance: Tall pale skinned youth with green eyes and hair the colour of dried blood. Dressed normally in a patched, multi-hued cloak, Loose-dark brown leggings made of a rather sturdy material and a skintight top, seemingly transparent due to its weave. both the cloak and the pants have many well hidden pockets from which Felixe ( his preferred street name) hides his tools of the trade. Upon his feet are worn sandals, bound in such a way as to keep them in place and silent when he performs at his "art". on his back there is an elaborate tattoo of two foxes chasing each other through the curves of the roman numeral XIII, one on top and one at the base in the back.

Name: Duma
Character Name: Morra
Race: Human
Age: About 24, if anyone's keeping count
Class: Archer
Appearance: Plain, by all standards, and she doesn't mind one jot. Chestnut hair cut about her ears, and slicked back with who knows what more often than not - personal hygeine is not her forte. Mostly wears clothing of an indescriminate colour, caused by time and the rare wash, somewhere between green and brown. In this case, brown/grey leggings, green tunic, brown over-tunic (some guess this as a sack with holes cut out of it), her father's old boots, and a cloak that ends about her knees.
Weapons/abilities: One ash bow, well used. One quiver of 20 arrows, most used, some repaired, and one short skinning knife.
Background: Morra (Or Mor to those who know her best) learned how to be an archer by necessity when she was 13. Her father was rendered lame by a fall repairing their home, and with her mother taking care of her younger siblings, she was taught how to hunt. She is by no means an eagle-eyed expert from the tales she hears, but after 10 years of constant use, practice, and the backing of 'You hit this animal with this last arrow, or the family doesn't eat for the next two weeks', she can name herself among those who can hit a jay in a tree from twenty paces more often than not. Morra grew up on the edge of the Darkwood forest, and came to the city when she deemed her brother, younger by five years (Rig), as competent enough on the bow to provide for the family in her absence.


Name: CoreTechs
Character Name: Rodderick
Race: Human
Age: Appears to be between 29 and 33. Actual age is unknown
Class: Mage
Appearance: About 6'2" with a slender build. His hair looked as if it had not been sheared in years, and he lacked the effort to make is presentable. Old, worn brown leather boots going half way up his calves, with four straps, two on the foot and the others over his leg. His pants are somewhat baggy and dark leaf-like green in color. They have been frayed at the bottoms and at the openings of the three pockets going down the right of his right leg. On his torso is a faded black shirt. It has two tears in it, a small one going across his abdomen from his navel to his left hip, and a slightly larger one going down from the right side of his chest to the space between his hip and his ribs. His cloak was in surprisingly good condition compared to his other clothes. It was slightly darker in colour than his pants and had minimal fraying along the bottom edges.
Weapons/abilities: A staff fashioned from the branch of an old oak tree and a brick.
Background: The earliest he can remember what when he had woke up three years ago by an old bridge that crossed between two cliffs in the mountains near the city of Taren. Since then, he began to practice magic as he travelled throughout the land, trying to figure out who and what he was before whatever happened to him.


Name: Rytiko
Character Name: Leon Thelemous
Race: Human
Age: 22
Class: Warrior
Appearance: At first glance, he appears as nothing more than a wannabe knight, complete with flimsy chain mail and a large blade on his back. His youth, thinness, and lack of heavy muscle would make it seem as though he had no hardened fighting senses what-so-ever. Upon close examination though, his experience may seem a bit more obvious.

The deceitful encasing blond hair with a counter clockwise swirl partially hides a scar, still somewhat red, on his right cheek. His blue eyes serve their purpose in hiding his frightful experiences from the eyes of most men. His youthful face gives no source to the thought that he had been trained intensively since a young age to fight. And most of all, his beautiful and innocent looking facial features combine to form the perfect mask ? One that hides his eternal lust for power.

The light chain mail is decorated with a family coat of arms, complete with a lion and stag at the top, griffin at the bottom, and crossed swords in the center. The only other feature to this chain mail vest would be the strap across it that holds a brilliantly shining longsword upon his back. The plain white undershirt was of little interest in comparison to its brilliant gleam.
His leggings were white and bulging, making the chain mail beneath them obvious to the observant man. At the top, they were suspended by a bland belt of brown leather, and were tucked in to brown boots at the bottom.
Weapons/abilities: A magnificent gold and tempered steel longsword serves as his weapon.
Paladin Tech level 1: Encases sword in light for a powerful slash of holy energy.


Name: Queztatlapoca
Character Name: (no longer cares for his name and erased it from his own mind)
Race: Human
Age: 53
Class: Druid
Appearance: A hermit who lives in the northern region of the darkwood. His clothing is slightly more presentable than a burlap sack. Wearing a brown unadorned robe he looks like an average elderly man. Brown eyes that have the innocence of a child but the wisdom of a sage and greying-brown shoulder length hair with calloused hands from decades of living in the darkwood. A slender long sword hangs at his hip.
Weapons/abilities: Proficient with a sword, multiple druidic spells
Background: Orphaned at the early age of 10 he was left on his own in Whisper. Growing up he stole to stay alive but couldn?t agree with shifting his misery onto others. All his experiences with other people led to someone getting hurt. Animals were his only refuge. He had an unnatural connection with the strays of Whisper. It was as if the animals understood what he was feeling, and he could understand how they felt. He didn?t despise people but he didn?t understand their greed and gluttony. So he decided to remove himself from them. And so wandered into the darkwood. He felt at home in the woods as if the trees themselves were welcoming him. And with time that connection grew like a muscle used it grew in strength. For 38 years he has lived with the forest and the animals therein. Not a single hostile person has entered his section of the wood and left to tell the tale.


Name: Megell
Character Name: Miguel Laviler
Race: Human
Age: 19
Class: None
Appearance: Medium height, he has white hair and is very tanned: A marking of his family who have claimed to have a little elfish blood in their history. He has multi coloured eyes, one is green and the other is blue. He also tends to where bright red clothing, which tends to give him away in many situations in where stealth is required. He generally stands out in a crowd like a sore thumb. He tends to be a liability until his help is needed for his own survival, then he can fight in a unique manner, as well like the rest of them.
Weapons/abilities: No weapons as such. He is gifted at dodging blows to an almost insane degree. He also has a knack for improvised tactics; such as he might randomly grab a mages spell book, start reading off chants, get lucky and shoot a fireball. Or grab a adamantine string, tie it around things in a funny way, then pull it when an enemy gets near to bind them to a tree of such. However, he tends to try to hide at the back during any intense situation, avoiding combat above all else. Not fully because he is a coward, but because he just doesn?t like getting involved in such situations.
Background: He is part of a traveling band of merchants, warriors and others who were traveling through the area when the RP began. He has been with this band all his life, and has thus grown up a ?pampered merchant rat?.

His parents are the leaders of the convoy and despite their simple peasant cloths were insanely rich. Miguel was never ever in want for anything at all his entire life. This made him become incredibly lazy, however though he never became incredibly vain. He often is more described as not interested, rather then just not involved. The most note worthy part of his life growing up was when was ten, his parents insisted on getting him some martial arts training so, if worse came to worse, he could be a one man army. However, he found it to troublesome and would often drop his sword, and simply run away. In cases where he couldn?t run, he would still drop his blade, and simply dodge every blow. In essence, he learned how to escape combat with an almost deadly efficiency.

At the age of fifteen, the convoy was attack by a group of strange creatures; Miguel managed to survive by doing his regular strategy, however the rest of the convoy was virtually wiped out, his brother and him being among a group of fifteen survivors. All ran.

Four years later, Miguel and his brother are both still insanely rich, but just not as rich as they were. Miguel ordered by his brother who has just become the leader of the convoy to survey local town for trading potential has arrived in Strokesville. However reluctant to actually do the trip, Miguel agreed when his brother threatened to lock him in the wagon. Miguel has a extreme fear of cramped places.
Gambits: If a battle occurs and he can escape. He runs.
If a battle occurs and he cannot escape he runs behind his allies and hides.
If he has no allies, he tries to bargain.
If bargaining fails, then he tries to bribe weaker members into attacking the leader so he can slip away.
As a last resort he will dodge and set up traps, killing his enemies through outsmarting them.

In social situations he tends to be loud, lazy, last to volunteer and first to criticize others. He appears as a fool, but secretly he is highly observant and quite resourceful. He tends to try to convince others that he is valuable while robbing them of all their monies.

[Mizukage]

"not a bad days work, this town seems wealthier than I thought" and with a quick glance around the dingy, dark bar I hurriedly put my money away. the small tavern, while offering a pleasant selection of cheap ale, was not high on the list of finest establishments. A small gathering of labourers were seated at an odd assortment of tables, swilling ale, trading stories or throwing dice. Two men sit upon a table set along the wall, playing a flute and a hammered dulcimer, the music is reminiscent of a person beating a baby with a cat, but the patrons don't seem to mind. "hey mac, give me another beer"

[Kinewa]

The bartender, a man with calloused, sun-worn skin and long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail, watched the stranger with mild curiousity. He had seen many groups of travelers come and go through Strokesville, but it was somewhat rare to see a lone traveler. Although, he reminded himself, this man could have travelled here with a caravan. After registering the man as nothing out of the ordinary, he continued to wipe down the counter and banter with the regulars.

"Hey mac, give me another beer."

Turning to see who had spoken to him, the bartender realised it was the newcomer and decided to find out more about him. He loved hearing traveller's tales almost as much as he loved retellings of the Histories. He grabbed a mug and filled it with beer, then walked to the man's table and put it in front of him.

"So, tell me sir, whereabouts are you from? It seems I haven't seen a new face in ages."

[Mizukage]

"hmpf, your a curious old fart, aren't you? well I suppose I could tell you of my travels, but unfortunately I have been long on the road and I am quite famished, and I fear this beer will not suffice, doyou not know that it can be quite dangerous to speak of daring deeds and near escapes on an empty stomach, surely it would not bode well should I faint from over-exerting myself" and with a quick nudge to the bartender I turn back to my beer

[Kinewa]

From the tone of this man's voice, the bartender would not be surprised if his talk of 'daring deeds and near escapes' was truthful. Hungry for a story almost as much as his client was hungry for food, the bartender moved quickly back to the kitchen. There he found the kitchen boy, bent over in attempts to pull a sliver out of his foot.

The bartender gave the boy a quick boot in the ribs and ordered him to heat up the stew. "What do you think this place is? A day care?" The boy took the hit in silence and got to work. Upon returning to the bar, the bartender informed the stranger that his stew would be ready in a few minutes.

"Meanwhile, can I get anything else for you?"

[Mizukage]

" No thank you, good sir, the sound of good wholesome food being prepared is truly a blessing for one such as I, who has suffered so much." and after a quick drink, seemingly to wet my throat, but in actuallity I scan the gathered people once more " my story is not a tale of happiness, but of loss and sadness. Truly the spirits of plague and poverty have taken interest in me. One of my employ should not be Troubled as I have, I am just so hungry, I was lucky to be able to pass within this establishment, a fine sight it would have been, if I had fainted outside your door, imagine what business would have been like then!"

[Kinewa]

"Surely, sir, if your tale is as you say" The bartender replied, "your having made it here was a blessing from the gods."

For the time being, he did not know what else to say. Somehow he felt obliged to be patient with the man. If he would tell his story, it would likely be in his own time. And his own time, the bartender reflected, was after dinner. Turning back to the bar, he served a couple of customers and went into the back room. There, the kitchen boy, having finished heating the stew, was cleaning the counters with a well worn cloth. The bartender noticed that the boy was leaning to the left, avoiding putting pressure on the right side of his ribcage. He smiled.

Taking a bowl of stew and some scones, the bartender returned to the front of the tavern and again approached the stranger. He handed the man his food, and with a slight bow, introduced himself.

"By the way, name is Garret Thern, and I own this tavern."

[CoreTechs]

I was sitting at an old square table in near the back corner beside the smoke stained walls of the tavern. Sitting hunched over a bowl of bean soup, taking small sips of the nourishing meal. I had my right foot on the seat of the empty chair opposite me. I turned my head to the stranger who had stumbled in the door just a few minutes before. He seemed like an odd character. I was somewhat curious to know where he was from.

After I had finished my soup, I got up to pay the bartender.

"How's it going, Garret? How much do I owe ya?"

[Kinewa]

"Let's see," Garrett replied, "A bowl of bean soup and a slice of bread comes to two copper pieces."

He put his hand on the younger man's shoulder in an amiable manner. "It does me well to see you, Rod, I am pleased to know such a fine young man, still in the prime of his life." Patting his own back for emphasis, he recalled that his days of traveling and exploring had come to an end. "I may have been forced to lay low now, but heck if I won't still be learning the world's news from the travelers who pass through this tavern!

[Mizukage]

upon seeing the runtish boy hobble up to the counter with my food I reach out and grab it from his trembling hands, " you can take the roll lad" and with that I wolf down half of the simple stew.

Satisfied with the meal I look up and see the bartender talking with a rather boorish looking man, I quickly notice him to be a spellshaper, and with a quick sniff of contempt I finish my meal. " holding the bowl up I call to the keeper, "ahh, now thats a meal to be proud of, now, you were wanting to her of my travels then? It is good to be back amongst civilized people. Let you first know that I am a Loremaster, I have travelled far and wide across this continent, I have even travelled past the Far Seas, strange folk out that way. but if you'd rather speak with your, hmmm, friend over there, I can hold my tongue"

[CoreTechs]

I searched my pockets and handed Garrett the two copper pieces.
"I think I'm going to go over to Harek soon to get some spices. It'll take a few days, so I'll be needing to pick me up some salted meat. I may also have a lead as to who might have some knowledge of the 'incident' that occurred almost three years to the day..." I pointed to the scar on my left cheekbone. I turn to the stranger. "Sorry for interrupting. Please, continue."
I sit down, two stools away.

[Kinewa]

Garret replied to the stranger, "Of course not, friend, rather let us all gather round to hear your tale! In a town as small as ours, the voices of travelers are often the perfect forms of entertainment."

Garret pulled up a chair at the small, roughly hewn table, and offered the chair beside him to Rodderick. "Come my boy, do not be a stranger."

"If, of course, an extra pair of ears is not any trouble to you, kind sir."

He looked questioningly at the stranger, and then realized something.

"My oh my, I have introduced myself, but have not even taken the time to hear your name! Might I ask what I am to call you?"

[Mizukage]

" My seat is fine, but he may listen, in fact as I am well trained in the verse I can aid you in gaining customers, I have been told that my stories have the power to transport you to far away places, as is my job as loremaster. but i would not presume to tell you how to run your business, but I can guarentee that I could fill this hall to the breaches, I am called Lolith, a name my recently lost master gave to me, she said it was of an elven origin, but it hasn't brought me any luck." I turn from the bar and say to the gathered, " what say you? would you as well like to hear my tales? I guarantee a pleasant time"

[CoreTechs]

I cautiously sit by Garret, not wanting to intrude.
"I apologize. But to hear one of your stories may be inspiring to me along my journey."
I hold out my right hand to the stranger, "People here know me as Rodderick, but please, call me Rod."

[Kinewa]

Delighted, Garret asked the musicians to cease their tune and paid them for their work. He then Announced loudly to all within the tavern that it was time for another Traveler's Tale. From the reaction of the customers, this was something that had happened before, and all were excited to hear another story from afar.

Gathering some log benches into a circle, they set themselves up around the stranger's seat, and slowly began to quiet down. It was obvious that not only the bartender had such genuine love for stories.

[Mizukage]

Looking first to the hand proferred, then to the mage himself I slowly shake my head " thanks but no thanks, Rodderick" I turn to look at the gathering, I walk into the crowd to the nearest table and take the grubby lantern off the table at place it on top of my recently vacated stool, I then turn back to the people and I do a neat backflip up on top of the bar and to the bartender I say " if i may?"

[Kinewa]

"But of course," Garret replied, "We are all very excited to hear what you have to say!"

He sat down with the crowd, exuberant to the point that he had not even noticed the man's rude behavior towards his friend. Later, he would reflect on this, but for now, all that he could think of was the story to come.

"Boy, watch the bar while I'm busy!"

[Mizukage]

" good folk, I am Lolith, traveller and loremaster extrordinare!" a flourish of my multihued cloak " I have travelled across this fair country, learning and sharing the tales handed down from the gods themselves! truly no man can match my knowledge of the old masters, that fated race, now departed across the lake! but of all the tales, of all the stories I have, none truly can compare to my on trials, I am not a hero, but I have faced horrors no mere mortal should have to." I reach into my cloak and take out three of my knives and begin to juggle them while still facing the crowd

" and of the gods! how they see to torture me!" a fourth knife joins the others " ohh, how I pray! to the righteous Phaligne, the pious Ellitre, even the beautiful Farouglin! none to hear my plight, Simic, the trickster, Tarl, the strong
or even my matron, Kelepsi, the shining! daughter of truth and knowlege! the dark lords too, give me no sign. I am caught-" I grab one knife and balance another on the point, the next on the pommel of the second, and the fourth upon the pommel of the third for a count of three, then begin juggling them again.

" Know you that I am an orphan, a child unloved by the world" I slowly turn to face away from the eagerly listening crowd. a normal childhood, but when I was but a wee lad they just up and," I snatch the blades out of the air where the watchers can't see, deposit them in my cloak again and turn back to face the crowd with another flourish. "Vanished! leaving me with nothing, no one to comfort me. how cruel a thing! imagine, a child no more than seven, crying, lost in this open world, a quiet home, no longer! I walked, with nothing to my name but a small blanket, from Colmsville, for three years, oh how I walked, begging until I reached the smaal town of whisper, where I had my one respite, " I throw a pinch of powder into the lantern to change the colour to light green "a shimmer of joy in my otherwise dismal existence. A beautiful woman, truly a descendant of the worthy themselves! Meline, my teacher, my comforter, and my friend." I begin to walk down the bar, dancing and skipping " a loremaster, like myself, she taught me all that I know now. we travelled together everywhere, to all points of the map, even far east, across the lake of mist, to see the strange sights, men who walk only upon thier hands "

I stop walking, do a backflip to land on my hands and walk back to my lantern and stand up again. " winds, that could blow a man down the street!" i step back to teeter on the edge of the counter. " but kindness, unlike some folk in this world. upon our return, we wintered in Rockcharge city, home of the delvers, mighty men who craft great works from mere stone."

i get back into the middle of the bar and crouch to look everyone in the eyes, pointing around the room as I look, pointedly not looking at Rod "but as well as it is, there are some that seek only to cause harm, all kindness is invaritably repaid with unkindness. in the deep snows, my master and I spent time in a tavern, entertaining the miners. But one of the populace, a human was unpleased with our demeanor, we never harmed a soul, and we were some of the few the great dwarves welcomed, a stoic and surly people, hearts of gold. but the woman, Talien, a hurtful and vile woman, beautiful, if but for a scar on the back of her hand, thought only of destroying what little happiness I had achieved."

from my crouch I toss some powder into the flame to make it a dark red and do another backflip to lad behind the bar with only my eyes looking along it to my listeners " she caused a riot, a band of bloodseekers to rise from our new friends, she falsely accused us of degrading the great elven image, she labelled us blasphemers! In cold blood she killed my teacher, slaughtered her infront of me." I do a handspring up on top of the bar and land litting with the lamp between my legs, dangling down, a pinch of powder to change the colour to a shimmering dark blue.

"again! I was alone again! the one person I loved, taken from me! surely-" I my elbows on my knees and rest my head on my hands, as though weeping, " certainly, that woman, that poor, cruel woman was jealous, she had no friend as close as I did, she had no skill as my sweet Meline! I was captured, and for one whole week, i was tortured by her and her cronies, cruel and vile people, and no help did I recieve! the dwarves, whom we had entertained, and grown so close in such a short time,they did not question the murder, did not question my disapearance" I look up to the crowd " surely it is suspicious? it is not easy to leave the mines in the deep snows, but leave I did!" I jump up onto the bar and raise my hands to the roof " finally, after much pain, I escaped my bondage, with the aid of a small man, a halfling, he gave me this glorious cloak" flourish" and a few supplies, he freed me! I fled, deep into the snows, without a thing to my name, dessed only in my what I wear, deeper into the falling snow, living off bark and snow, freezing, amazing it was that i made it, to come north, rather than south, for beyond the mountains lies a death worse than any other.

I rushed, through the blizzard, hoping against hope, that I could escape, i know not if that creature of hate still follows me. since this winter, i have travelled here, poor and friendless, telling my stories for a crust and mayhaps a bed in the stable, nothing I had, to trade, or barter, turned away from most as I was deemed a vagrant. until I came here, the first true city I have seen in ages, it is certainly fine that you have recieved me with kindness, instead of swords. i thank you for hearing my tale, It has been good to tell it to someone who truly cares" and with a bow I tumble head first, off the counter, over the lamp simutaniously tossing some powder to make it burn fiercely white, place it on the ground and sit back in my stool.