Outside the bar sits a man that doesn't quite look like a native, but seems comfortable enough around the city.  Around him sits a group of children, mostly around eight to twelve years of age, and they sit quietly, a wonder in of itself.  The man talks, and they pay him attention, and most of the adults can tell that he is either a professional or at least a very gifted amatuer storyteller.  Bits of the conversation come through the tavern, and you can tell the story is at a close.

"The green dragon looked down at the small man with, not a gleam, but a look of wonder in his eyes.  This one man had twarted his plans with but a single word, and he was but a normal man, not even a mage.  'Now, dragon.  You will honor our bargin, will you not?'  The dragon's eyes change back to their usual maliciousness and he smiles an evil smile.  'Of course, human.  I will honor our deal, if you but stay still,' the dragon says as he opens his mouth as if to yawn.  A massive cloud of gas spilled forth from the mouth of the beast, and the poor human could not escape it.  The cavern was full of the horrible smoke, and the human died after only a few seconds of this breathing in the fumes.  The green dragon smiled as he tore the items of value from the human and slid the piece of meat down his throat."

"Now, what did you learn?"

[Private to DM Foxpaws: I knew it, the first roll of the game is always either really good or really horrible.  This time it's horrible.

Perform: Oratory: 18]

With a gasp and a shake of her head one woman graps up her child and stalks off, muttering about horrible stories to tell to small children, and something about nightmares for a week.  The other children laugh at their friend being dragged away while one chimes in "I know the lesson, aways take a sword, not a word to fight a dragon!" the small child declairs, sure that this was the lesson to be learned from the now finished story.

With a smile and a pro-offered glass Samier tells you "Come Daemon, leave the children alone with your stories of dragon death.  I asked before and I ask again, work for me, your stories will get more wine flowing.  Now I have a woman working the afternoons, with her music and your voice I could make a fortune here!" he says with a smile.

Daemon shakes his head with amusement as the child is carried off, but smiles at the child who answered.  "Close, very close.  Some dragons are good, however, and I'd hate for you to kill a bronze or gold.  Never trust a dragon, my dear children.  For if you do, you'll not get what you expect."  He stands up as the barkeeper finally comes out and hands him a glass.  The height of the man is impressive, almost as tall as a small giant.  But his clothing hangs loosely about his body, yet it is sized to fit a creature the girth of an elf.  This man is thin, up to the point where it would affect his health.

Looking down at Samier, he pushes the glass away.  "You know as well as I that I never drink the vile liquid you serve here," Daemon says with a smile.  "And, as I said before, no one will have to pay to hear me, and I certainly will not accept any coin for talking.  But tell me more of this woman.  New to town, is she?  I've seen no one that can meet my skill with a harp since I last stopped by, and I can't believe that people have forgotten it so quickly.  She must be good to bring in more customers."  A glint gathers in Daemon's eye and he leans down to Samier and lowers his voice so the remaining children can't hear.  "Or, Sam, is it perhaps more than her music?"

Still offended that after all this time of your not accepting his offer of a drink Samier grins as he remembers the young singer from last night.  "Perhaps it is a bit more than her music that brings in the customers.  Come in Daemon, meet the lass, I'm sure you'll see why she brings in the customers."

"I doubt it, Samier, I truly doubt it."  Daemon follows the barkeeper, stooping a bit lower to get inside the tavern.  Looking around at the clients, he makes a point of stopping and searching each female before turning to Samier and nodding his head toward one.  "Is she the one?"

[Private to DM Foxpaws:

Spot: 16

Not sure any other modifiers.  Maybe a few for working along so many females in the harem, but what you say goes.]

"Aye my friend, she is a lovely one, but not my evening singer...she was out late last night, and in early this morn.  I expect she will be down shortly, though who knows really. Samier says as he eyes the woman indicated by the elf.  Smiling to himself at the obvious thoughts running through his head Samier returns to his bar to take orders.

"Well, as long as I'm waiting..."  Daemon sits down at a table and pulls the harp down.  Looking at it critically for a few moments, the Calishite tests a few of the strings and tunes them until they meet his expectations.  "Hopefully I won't scare your drinkers off, sadik."  Daemon begins to play a song, one of sadness and torment.  He does not add the words, but simply lets the beutiful music flow through the room.

[Private to DM Foxpaws:

Perform: String Instruments: 22 (Still horrible)

And in case you're wondering, sadik means friend.]

Coins are tossed your way by way of apprecation for the soft melodies you are playing.  Samier goes about his duties, serving drinks, taking orders, keeping people happy as they drink the day away.  Towards the end of your performance Samier comes to you with a request "Daemon, my friend, I have a problem.  I have sent some people into the jungle to finish a delievery for me, however I did not tell them what all to deliever.  They are to find and deliever some potions and herbs to the Healers Compound in the middle of the jungle.  Do you know of where I speak? between the two great lakes? Yes, you know the place, I can see that you do.  Will you find them, and let them know?"

ooc: sorry for the lame intro into the adventure, brain hurts this evening :P

"Samier, didn't I tell you before 'Don't get ahead of yourself?'  You're pretty lucky that I came along, or you'd be running out in the jungle yourself."  Daemon lets out a soft chuckle at the thought of the barkeep running through the jungle to find his own employees.  "But, yes, I'll do it.  Leet me rest a bit, though, I just got back into town about an hour ago, and I'd like to reaquaint myself before leaving again."

"Yes, yes, I know I'm getting ahead of myself again...but I have a lot riding on this little expedition.  But your right friend, rest, relax, get reacquainted with living in a town." Samier says, slightly abashed with himself for rushing to request you heading back into the jungle so fast.

Daemon looks around the tavern once more and speaks to Samier before leaving to go back into the city to see what he could buy, and sell.  "Samier, my old friend, could you happen to tell me if there is any more elves that are in the town at the moment?  And, I will not have as much time to do the services of last time, so please don't send anyone to me.  Except for maybe this singer of yours.  I'd like to see how good she really is, or if it's just you getting customers in?  Just think on it, sadik.  I should be back within two hours and ready to leave."  Daemon turns on his heels and ducks under the door and walks around the town, perusing the merchandise.

[Private to DM Foxpaws: Daemon needs an elven trainer for his PrC, and he'll be ready to take it once I use a few more xps on him.

Also, he'll sell his wand of Magic Missiles.  It usually sells for 150 gold pieces, but maybe a diplomacy or some other chack can raise that?]

Daemon searches the area until he finally finds the old magic shop he saw last time.  He walks in and glances around before moving around the shop and perusing the items and waits on the mage who owns the shop.  Once found, Daemon will move nearer to the mage and open his vest to show off a beautiful wand.  "Good morning, my good fellow.  I've happened to come across a wand in my travels, and the wizard who used it seemed to shoot spell bolts from the tip.  As you might be able to tell, it would be almost useless to me, and I think you might want to test it out, or even add it to your magnificent display here.  But, be sure, I am trying to give this to a good owner, but I am so stupid to give it away for free.  Might I suggest two hundred gold and the promise of a good customer in the future?"

[Private to DM Foxpaws: Diplomacy: 19

Also, tell me of anything interesting a traveling bard might be interested in.]

[Private to Daemon: I apologize for the delay in posting, I was hoping that Elsa would show up, but no such luck since the 5th.  I'm afraid I may have to drop her and move on without her.  Expect a full post this evening when I get home from work.]

PM, but for the rest of you expect some more posting from me this afternoon...we're going to begin moving forward into the unknown....

Wandering the familiar streets of Port Nyanzaru you reacquaint youself with familiar sites and faces.  At one old magic shop, never really the best of shops, but they suffice for what is needed, you are able to unload an old wand, for a more than fair price after some tough nogeations. [Private to Daemon: He counters with 150, and settles on 180 due to your good bartering skills]  Your time spent in the shop is more than you had hoped, checking into odds and ends.  As you are leaving you run into a fellow half-elf, a stocky woman...she would never be considered beautiful, but her movements tell of a dancers grace, mixed with a fighters gait.  She eyes you as you pass, an arched eyebrow at seeing someone of elven heritage wearing a sword and playing in a mage's shop.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:43, Thu 15 Sept 2005.

Daemon glances around the shop and feels the comfortable weight of the coins on his chest.  Yet nothing interested the picky customer, and he simply wished the mage a good day and left.  Daemon spies the half-elven woman and is overjoyed to finally meet an elf, or part elf.  He greets her with a simple lyric and stands by to see what he might learn.  "'A light has come down from the sky and enlightened my path.'  Forgive me, I am not used to elven kin inside this jungle, and here I see one before I leave.  What might your name be?  Mine is Daemon, a singer of songs and teller of tales."

[Private to DM Foxpaws: FYI: Daemon is human with one grandparent a half-elf.  It might be difficult to place him as an elf if it were not for his starved frame.]

In Elven "Greetings Daemon, you must be new to town.  I am Melosa, from Fort Beluarian on the northern coast.  It has been a long time since I have heard the song of Lathander...and such an old verse of it as well!  I myself have been known to recite a lyric or two....though mostly I tend to stick to poems....I havn't the voice for singing to anything but the drunkest of crowds." she says this last with a smile that brightens her plain face.  Entering the store she quickly finishes her business, acquiring a fine rapier that glows with a gentle blue light.  Leaving the inn she asks if you'd like to join her for a wine...she claims to know of a decent tavern...that turns out to be your friend Samier's....seems he's been holding out on you, with a supply of good Halruan wine that your new friend pays way to much for two glasses of.

Daemon is surprised that she would recognize any type of verse so old.  Of course he would, he's made it his job, but she coud not be quite so old, could she.  Falling back to the fluent tongue of elven instead of relying on the  crude speech of Common, he talks.  "It is a pleasure, Melosa.  And while I'm not new to the town, I rarely stop for more than a few days at a time.  I prefer poetry much more as well, but singing and making music is not to bbe discouraged."

Daemon follows her to the tavern and manages to keep his knowledge to himself.  He couldn't refuse a gift, and simply drinks the wine in contemplative silence for a while.  Then, after a few minutes, he speaks up in the elvish language again.  "What brings you away from the fort and down to the port, Melosa?"

"From time to time the Captain Nenon will hire out the Fist to escort well to do travelers from town to town.  I was sent to escort a halfling who was curious about some old legend.  He told me to wait for him here, he'd be gone a tenday into the jungle.  HA! its been two tenday now and I'm for saying hes dead.  So its back to the north for me, just getting a few supplies before the trip up. She goes on to talk about this and that, nothing really in particular, answering questions and asking a few of her own in turn.


[Private to Daemon: Feel free to ask her anything, so far you know shes a half elf, a member of the flaming fist (or at least stationed with them) and that she has little regard for outlanders that think they have some secret to mastering the jungle.]

Daemon listens with no sign of impatience crossing his face, and he simply looks and listens to her tales, adding a few details when neccessary.  Finally, she quiets down enough for Daemon to ask a question of his own.  "Melosa, do you know of any other elves, or even half-elves, in the jungle.  Where they would be located?  And have you ever heard of anything known as a spellsinger.  An elven bard with the powers of music unmatched by all else?  I once heard of it from an old friend up in Calimshan, and I have no one else who could ever tell me anything different."

"Other elves in the jungle? Yes, there are others...in the deep jungle, if you can find them, there are wild ones...not many, but they are there if you know where to look.  As for your 'Spellsinger' I have not heard the term before, but we have an elf that stops in from time to time at the Fort, his music has always had a magical effect....a beautiful voice that one has, the likes of which I have never heard.  If anyone could weave the power of magic into thier songs I would bet he could.  Se'vash is his name, he stops into the fort every few months, then it is back to Amn for him and then to points unknown til the next year." she replies, still thinking on the new term, and of any other elves in the area.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 10:13, Fri 16 Sept 2005.

A little disappointed, Daemon's mind wanders to other, darker portions of his mind.  He looks up at the hal-elf and with serious eyes.  "What can you tell me about the slaves down here?  Chult is one of the most famous places where you ship of unwanted persons to labor.  Do you know where the nearest slaves would be held?"

[Private to DM Foxpaws: In elven to prevent overhearing.]

Daemon looks out the window and into the sky, and then shakes his head.  "I'm so sorry, Melosa, but I must be leaving.  A friend of mine asked a favor of me, and it has been a while.  May Helm watch over you until we meat again."

Daemon says his farewells before finding Samier and asking of that all important task that he needed.  He keeps the mention of Se'vash in memory, but pushes it aside for now.

"Slaves? They are everywhere, though most seem to be shipped out of Port Castigar, a Calish port.  I'm sorry, I must be going...Please, if you are ever near the fort stop by, I would like to spend more time with you...just not today any longer.  With that the woman gets up, tosses a few coins to Samier and slips out the door, presumably to make the long trek back to her fort.

Once she has left, Samier steps over, a sly smile on his face.  "My friend, it does me good to see you with a woman! But, alas she is gone and I still have a need.... I have sent some small group of fellows out to find something, and then deliever that something for me.  I know they are headed towards the healers camp in the deep jungle...I think you remember the one..." he says, aluding to some past need of yours for thier services.  "If you could catch up to them, I also need this taken to those healers....it pains me to do it, but I must offer some sort of recomp for my lateness." That said he pulls out a small pouch of coins, it thuds like a small fortune when he drops it onto the table.  "I did not know those who went earlier...if they could be trusted, but you my friend I know will not cheat me.  Once that pouch has disappeared he also drops a smaller pouch, with clinks onto the table with a nice heft.  This one for your troubles.

[Private to Daemon: The large pouch has 30 platnium, the small 5 platinum.]

Daemon takes the smaller pouch, emptying it into a pouch on his chest and ties the bigger of the two into his vest.  "Of course, Samier.  I'll leave you be and I'll be off.  Perhaps I'll stop by the next time I'm in town."  The Calishite walks out of the tavern once more, and walks out into the jungle to give the village his aid.

finishd getting notes.