13 Reapember 353 AC, evening

It was exactly two years after the Godsbringers returned to Solace after their five year separation. The night that started their quest for the blue crystal staff; that five days later led them to free King Eisen Dragonword , slay the black dragon Onyx, and bring about the return of the gods.

Lunitari was nearly full and Solinari would become full in five nights, the anniversary of the king’s liberation and the return of the gods, and they were casting their red and white light across Kalaman and the Vingaard River. Only the black robed wizards saw the waning black half moon of Nuitari that most people on Krynn didn’t even know existed.

King Dragonword had instituted a three day period of rest during the Solinari full moon cycle in commemoration of what had happened two years ago. But what normally would have been a great feast would now likely pass in silence. For as the fall winds swept over the city from Kalaman Bay, it brought with it the scent of the sea over a broken city.

About half of the city had been cleared of debris and about half of that had been rebuilt, starting with the docks district and workshops and other things most needed for the rebuilding of the city, since the sacking of this Pearl of the East. The king had spared no expense in rebuilding the city and nor had its people. The entire nation of Eastlund was focused on this one thing. Coming together in solidarity. Knowing that the king would do it for all of them too. Wherever they were.

On this night His Majesty Eisen III, by the Grace of Paladine, King of Eastlund, Patriarch of Dragonword, Defender of the Covenant, Custodian of The Grove, Keeper of the Lost Tomb, Lord Clerist of the Knights of the Sword had spoken with some of the members of the Gold Guard, his bodyguards.

“Bring them to me now,” the king said in conclusion and the four knights bowed and left.

[OOC: Please post what your characters are doing before they are encountered by these knights. Please PM me if you have questions about how or where your character lives.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:19, Tue 09 Feb 2010.

Olven has just finished his evening repast at a local inn, and as he walks back down the narrow lane that leads to his humble home, he reflects on the events of the past few years.  He had lost dear friends in the War of the Lance, and received several wounds while defending Kalaman, but all that is behind him now.  His house has recently been rebuilt, and is serving as quarters for some of the rebuilding crew.  Olven himself has been busy, lending a hand as he can in the rebuilding effort.  With winter coming on, every free hand is needed.

He had left the inn earlier than the others who are bunking with him, and he thinks back to the cheery fire and the welcome wenches of the inn.  Oh, he can afford their smiles for a night, but what he really wants is a wife to warm his bed.  With the war and subsequent rebuilding, however, he has scarce had time to spend on winning a woman's hand in marriage.  Perhaps now that history is calming down, he can turn his thoughts to more marital pursuits.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:31, Fri 01 Jan 2010.

Atop a crate in a busy marketplace, Nana perches, swaying as she plays an old, clay ocarina.  A meandering, ornate melody whistles from the small instrument, and a dancer jumps and twirls as she plays, stamping out a lively rhythm in time with the music.  She doesn't know the dancer's name--she joined her, wordlessly, about half an hour ago.

Nana and the dancer have attracted a small audience.  A basket lies on the floor in front of them, but it holds only a few coins and a bit of bread.  These are grim times, and folks are not letting their what little coin they have drop easily from their grasps, but rich and poor alike, they cannot deny the power of a good song to lift low spirits.  Some are even dancing a little shyly, just barely moving with the rhythm.  Nana smiles with her eyes when she notices them, trying not to think on her meager earnings, lest her dismay be reflected in her song.

Attracted by the sound of the Ocarina, Olven moves closer to the small crowd surrounding player and dancer.  The music lifts his spirits, and smiling, he drops a silver crown in the small hat.

He lets himself enjoy the others' good cheer for a time before moving on.  The people of Kalaman are survivors, and their efforts to rebuild are a testament to their moral fiber.  As a sellsword, Olven makes his living not so much on violence itself as representing the threat of violence, and if another force hires him to make war on Kalaman, he will do so, though not happily, and he can't help admiring these people's determination.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:42, Wed 06 Jan 2010.

The ocarina-player nods her head slightly in appreciation as the man makes a donation.  She watches the other woman's dance, and her song transitions into a simpler section with a clearer, more identifiable melody--clearly the base melody from which she has been improvising.  The tune has an exotic sound to it--likely unidentifiable, for a native of Solamnia.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:28, Fri 01 Jan 2010.

As Nana continued to play, a knight of Solamnia walked up to her, clearly not to donate any money nor did he seem to care that he was blocking the view.

"His Majesty Eisen III wants to see you now," the knight said.

--

Elsewhere another knight caught up with Olven and put a hand on his shoulder to cause him to stop.

"His Majesty Eisen III wants to see you now," the knight said.

As Nana opens her eyes at the end of a long melodic phrase, she has to fight the urge to recoil in horror.  A knight within arm's reach.  She stops playing quite suddenly.

Oh, no.  This is bad, Nana thinks.  Should I run?  I could run.  I'm unarmed.  If I'm going to run, it should be now.  Could I?  Was it illegal to perform here?  Will I be cleaned off the streets as a beggar?  Oh, no, but if I run, I won't have time to pick up my money.  Oh, damn it.  It's too late to run.

All of her attention is focused on the knight.  She wonders uselessly whether the crowd has already dispersed, and if the dancer has stayed around for a bit of the earnings.

Trying to maintain her composure, she responds in lightly accented Solamnic, "His majesty?  I...  There must be some mistake, sir knight.  Please, I am only a simple musician!"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:41, Wed 06 Jan 2010.

"There is no mistake," the knight said. “My instructions were quite specific. His Majesty calls upon you in this darkest hour of need for our city.”

The dancer stopped and looked at Nana and the knight. She wondered how a musician could help with the rebuilding of the city. From the rumors she had heard and from what she had heard herself, this was the kind of thing said to master craftsmen and other important figures who could have quite an impact on the rebuilding.

The crowd, hearing the same words, walked away. Nothing was more important than the rebuilding of their beloved city.