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Visitor :  Dice Roller| Game Info| The Cast |
| LOCATION : The Dragon's Den (Under New Management) Posted by DM. | Group: 0 |
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| Author | Message | Page: 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 ... 1 [all][bottom] |
However, eye eyes continue to scan the crowd, looking to see if her escort has arrived yet. This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 09:17, Sun 01 Oct 2017. | |||
"A silver to save a fallen maid" The Prelate yelled with glee Brugar replied, "a damn good deal," "Here's two, save one for me !" Poor old beggar held his hand out, Asked Brugar, "Spare a coin ?" "You thieving wretch !" the Bishop cried And kicked him in the ... pants ! | |||
"At home," the Prelate thundered loud, "Doth Charity begin !" "Aye that she does," Brugar agreed, "And ends in the tavern !" "Tankards of ale flow far too free !" The Prelate did so note "But not for long !" the Bishop vowed As he poured one down his throat. "It has not rained for many months !" Did Bishop Brugar groan Then staggered out to alley dark To water cobblestones ! | |||
"Mercy !" did plead the ne'er-do-well. As the Bishop sat and thought. "You watch your language !" Brugar roared. "None of that on my watch !" "I do love them Necromancers," The Bishop smiled, quite glad. "No matter what I do to them, I really don't feel bad !" | |||
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07:46, Today: Borak Annanock rolled 18 using 1d20+7. Play flute. | |||
Covered all in blood was Brugar, Waved off the clergyman. "These scratches pain me not at all ! Ye should see the other man !" The Bishop rose from his death bed Aroused by wail and cry. "Save yer laments, I'm not yet spent !" "Be killed before I die !" | |||
This message was last edited by the player at 20:28, Fri 27 Oct 2017. | |||
My crystal ball's not working !" The witch-queen looked quite sick "That's odd indeed," Brugar agreed, Giving it another kick. "My uncle's ghost is haunting me ! I need an exorcist !" "Calm down ye fool," Brugar replied, And hit him with his fist. This message was last edited by the player at 13:47, Fri 27 Oct 2017. | |||
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“I’ll bring the holy water here To cast away your sin” “Indeed,” the smiling bishop cried, “I'll mix it with my gin.” "How was that?" she asks her cheeks reddening, either with embarrassment or from too much poachers' pale. It is difficult to tell. This message was last edited by the player at 05:22, Sat 28 Oct 2017. | |||
"Very worthy," the big man smiles at the gnome. "Bravo !" He continues to saw away, weighing rhyme and rhythm as he rises to the challenge ... "Oh please, my Lord, give me a break !" The wretched rogue did beg. The Bishop shrugged, "That's fine by me, Did ye mean yer arms or legs ?" "Mitre ?" the prelate repeated, Reeling and in his cups. "That's what I said," Brugar replied "Ye mitre's well give up !" | |||
The bower bragged and claimed the worlds best, About the arrows he was Fletching. "That maybe so" was the bishops replied, "But I'm the Best at wenching". | |||
"It's Brugar's child !" the woman claimed "I demand of him my due !" "Over there," the prelate sighed "You'll have to join the queue !" | |||
“And who is that?” The bishop asked “I don’t remember her. A scotch, a gin, a glass of wine … Or that demon drink, liquer!” This message was last edited by the player at 06:32, Sat 04 Nov 2017. | |||
The large man is forced to play a few phrases to compose himself as Poppy offers up her next verse, the whole made all the more humourous as a glance at the gnome indicates that she probably hadn't realised the double entendre. And since the verses and crowd grow ever more raucous ... "The Prelate wants to see you now," The Acolyte did weep. Brugar just growled and rolled over, "Shut up, I'm trying to sleep !" "Just who is she ?!!" Prelate arrived, From bed did Brugar spear. "Ye should've wakened me before !" "This lady is quite dear !" This message was last edited by the player at 05:34, Sun 05 Nov 2017. | |||
"I've never bothered praying much," "And never felt the lack." Said Brugar, "But if necessary," "Bless me to Hell and back !" "There's ten women !" the Prelate spat, "Awaiting you today !" Brugar did groan, "Ye may be right, I'm tired, send one away !" This message was last edited by the player at 14:35, Wed 15 Nov 2017. | |||
"Avast," cried Brugar "trim the sail, and keep the boat from rocking. This maiden here is in distress, I need to trim her stocking.” This message was last edited by the player at 11:53, Fri 17 Nov 2017. | |||
The Prelate snarled "You're in your cups ! Your flock are all complaining !" "Of course I'm drunk," the Bishop spat "I'm not one for abstaining !" The Bishop narrowed eyes around Den of iniquity. "Which miserable sinner here Will buy a drink for me ?!" | |||
Boy and Uncle marching proud, Calling critters names aloud, Travelling o'er ground unploughed Through early morning's misty shroud. Another trip, already vowed! Look there! Quickly! See? See the squirrel climb the tree? He hides his nuts from you and me. A Cabbage White, that butterfly, Dipping low, then flapping high. He checks for food, that he might spy. Watch the rabbit in his hole, Skirting round the tree trunk's bole, Looking deep within your soul? Feathered grouse, hid underfoot Wingtip feathers black like soot. Eggs in nest, so nicely put. Foxgloves standing in the dells With flowery spikes of purple bells Deadly poison, and death foretells. Staghorn beetle's spiky nose, Grubbing round the dead thorn rose. Then taking up a fighting pose Vixen in her covered den! Blood and feathers from a hen, 'Twas taken from the farmers pen. Rufus Robin on the twig, Jumping down to earth to dig. He's finding worms, both fat and big Watch the eagle way up there Smaller creatures all beware, And head home swiftly, for your lair Boy and Uncle marching proud, Calling critters names aloud, Travelling o'er ground unploughed Through early morning's misty shroud. Another trip already vowed! | |||
"A fine refrain to swing the mood of our fickle audience," the large man nods in approval as he takes up his fiddle once more. "A slower beat now," he tells the gnome and Borak, "let us see what these drunkards make of this ..." The notes Folfast coaxes from his fiddle are haunting as he begins Lytlhinadel's Lament. Born into world below, that unforgiving place She ventured to the lands above, e'er severed from her race And so unto the light of day she bared her pretty face Until she died She walked with others, but alone, when I met her on the road And though I tried to talk to her, to share her heavy load, The harshness of her home still rubbed - she chafed beneath its goad And so would die Her friends at length did dine with us though she kept to herself A price to pay, I do suppose, if you are born Dark Elf, Though to this day a glass I raise and drink it to her health Because she tried When darkness came to village small - to battle she was first Though wounded by the villain's blades, it did not dim her thirst She threw herself into the fray like one who has been cursed But could not die I fought alongside her whirring blades as we braved the villain's lair And she fought on regardlessly though their blades had wounded her She fought as if she never thought that anyone would dare And so he died But still there was a threat, it came from one she'd fought beside A feckless man with whom she did with heated words deride Until the feckless man drew blade, and feckless man did die The poor fool But as Lylth struggled to her feet, they hit her from behind And cut her down, and there she lay - no breath to curse could find A final scrawl upon her life and so the book is signed And thus she died But even as she lay in blood, her heart pierced by a knife I honoured her, our poor lost Lylth, now resting safe from strife And I've never met another soul with her vibrancy and life !! But now she's gone ... | |||
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"Hearken ye all !" he demands of the crowd, voice now loud. "And thrill to the song of Splitfang's Bane, a tale of courage and sacrifice !" "Picture the scene," the hand holding the bow sweeps around in a wide arc, "a clearing in a forest. A group of travellers ..." "Uthe Sharu - a huge man with giant's blood running through his veins." "Macfarriage - a sailor, a long way from the sea he loved." "Ashe - noble of bearing, perhaps even of birth." "Erstwhile - a quiet man, unless he has a cup in his hand, his flesh marred by scars" "Dove - a priestess, with her Elven mother's looks and her human father's temperament." "Cassandra - a Lady, though favouring blade and boiled leathers over silken dresses" "Lydia - a child of nature, older than her years." "Kadin ... raised in a monastery, never moved to anger." "Eliste ... an Elf, equally proficient with sword or spell and ever with a smile." The large man's voice lowers now, almost to a whisper, as he sets the mood. "The sun shines downs, birdsong fills the air ... but all at once the skies darken as the clouds gather, a cold breeze springs up ... and a wolf-pack falls upon them !" Folfast sets bow to fiddle and starts to play ... The chilling howls rang through the air Once tranquil glade now death stalked there As from the woods did creatures stir Their eyes with bloodlust, glowing, red The pack leapt forth as prey did see One larger, shoulder-tall was he And flesh and metal joined in three Who by the one were led With sword and fist, with mace and bow With courage and no fear did show With these weapons we faced the foe When others would have fled The giant Uthe did hold the fore And bid them fight him, with a roar A challenge they could not ignore Those words so bravely said One wolf by scent of blood was spurred And fangs in shoulder it interred But anger in Uthe's eyes then flared As from him the wolf sped The great beast upon Macfarriage closed A sudden drive at throat exposed A tearing bite, blood redly flowed By dreadful teeth flesh shred With great sword Vardlokker held up high From wounded comrade Uthe denied The great beast did the giant defy By raging river bed From Ashe's bow the arrows flew Avoiding one but struck by two And slain by shaft that struck it true In throes of death Wolf bled Another, pierced beneath its jaw As Erstwhile's pointed blade did score Not once but twice till lived no more A burden quickly shed Priestess and warrior fought as one Dove and Cassandra, with mercy none Mace and sword brought foe undone The carrion crow they fed But one remained, the worst of all, A leap, a bite, and Ashe did fall As teeth did tender body maul The spark of life faded Lydia raised in wrath the trees Branches writhed as if by breeze Blown that none might pass by these A path they could not tread Wolf-beast quailed from Kadin's fists Macfarriage blow but barely missed But teeth the giant's jaw did kiss And blood poured from Uthe's head Yet undeterred the giant swung His mighty sword his vengeance wrung But on him dreadful wolf-beast sprung And nigh on snapped life's thread Yet Eliste's arrow true did fly Almace struck, not once but twice And Erstwhile's blade pierced vulpine eye And wolf not Uthe lay dead The ground was slick with mingled blood There healers called on powers of good God of luck and gods of wood To heal those there wounded Great victory, the evil cleansed Though Ashe would die, his time did end And Uthe it was who bore his friend E'er onward and ahead | |||
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