Hi All, Lord Baldrith here with another wonderful story from the world of Islug by Sir Stile. I am really enjoying this series. Some very humous female and male voices here. I hope it’s not too crazy, but at least it’s unique :).
Here is the text:
Written by Stile
Title: Islug needs a bath
Usara whispers to Eldirk and Minstril “Are you sure he will be here?”
Eldirk responds “Yeah, I’ve been spreading rumors that right underneath these falls have been a great place for Salmon”.
Minstril leans over “How do you know he will be here today?”
Usara whispers back “Mud just had a new fishing pole delivered. Master crafted from the best materials that can be found in New Britannia”.
Minstril and Eldirk nod with a knowing smile on their faces, being careful to avoid the branches in the thicket the three of them are hiding in.
Eventually whistling is heard as Islug makes an appearance to the side of the stream, right below the waterfall. They watch him as he seems to carefully search the ground around himself and looks in the general area as if concerned for his safety. Seeming to relax he unwraps a beautifully crafted fishing pole with gem inlays and boar skin wrap for a good hand hold. After baiting the hook and tossing into the stream in right past the waterfall, Islug drops onto a small pad he brought with him and lights a pipe. He seems content and half sleepy as the bobber spins lazily in the water and smoke rings circle his head.
Once he has been at it for a while, his three servants look at each other and nod. Eldirk whispers “Let me go first since I’m not as noisy as Boar in the woods. Lets do this just like last couple of time’s and we should be fine.”
Slowly Eldirk moves towards Islug, his feet seeming to fall in between every leaf and twig along the way. There is a rope in his hands ready to for some sort of unscrupulous use. The others hang back but clearly ready to run forward and assist.
Suddenly Eldirk pounces! Wrapping the rope around Islug’s wrists! Islug startled from his lethargy, his pipe dropping to the ground lets out a bellow “Nae, not again! What the ell is wrong with ye three?”
The others at Islug side now help Eldirk. Usara begins pulling off Islug’s clothes while Minstirl and Eldirk hold him still. All of them trying to advert their gaze. Eldirk is the one that responds “You Stink! We have to live with you! We told you, if you won’t take baths we will give them to you!!!” Islug thrashing responds “Damn ye, tis nae natural! If yed leave it be yed get ta like the smell. Fine tabac and Ale lad, what kind o person are ye? The Alchemist I cin understand but nae…” His speech trails off as Eldirk stuffs a piece of cloth into Islug’s mouth and mumbles “Should have done that first”.
A few minutes later sees the three of them trying to hold onto a naked Islug in the fast flowing water while he sputters (the gag having loosened) when they dump another bucket of soap and oil’s on him. Suddenly Usara’s foot goes flying out from under her as she steps on Islug’s new pole and lands on her back! Out of reflex the other two try to grab her letting go of Islug, who is promptly carried down the rapids bobbing with his hands loosely tied and a piece of cloth half hanging out of his mouth, his words barely heard “Hmph..Pay..Hmph… Kil..Hmph..Pole…”
Usara stands up slowly while the other two watch Islug going down the stream at a pace to fast to hope to catch up to. Eldirk leans down and picks up the pole looking at it “Well, it’s well made. Not a scratch on it at least”.
The other two glance over at it and then back to the rapids. Usara speaks “What are we going to do if he doesn’t survive this?”
Minstirl shrugs “Find another job?”
Eldirk grimaces “Where else are we going to find someone stupid enough to gives us room, board, materials, and a gold a week and that thinks he’s getting the best end of the deal?” The others visibly wince.
Usara begins gathering up Islug’s fishing waders and jacket and glances over at Minstirl and says “It may help calm him down if you figure out how to make that Rose dye he’s been wanting to dye these with”. Minstril just shrugs. The three wander off looking a bit forlorn.
Later that night finds Islug in a little tavern in a small village, wrapped with towels and shivering a little before a fire. A bowl of stew in front of him and 5 or 6 empty tankards. Children surround him giving him his full attention and eyes big, listening to his every word.
“That’s right, it had ta ave been at least a 150 pound Salmon! I’ve pulled in those around 60 or so they say are the biggest with nae a problem before. But this one was hugggee!” Islug holds up his hands as wide apart as he can, the towels falling to the floor and the kids eyes widen at the spectacle. “I was just sit’n there with me new pole, when BAM next thing I knew my face hit the water!” He picks up and downs another tankard in one gulp. “By the way, thank ye again for fishing me out at that bridge, did nae think I was gonna make it. What with my hands getting caught up in that rope I had brought along fer a stringer an all. Hundred an Fifty I tell ye! Reminds me of that time…..”
Here is a bit of a romantic one written by Time Lord. Thanks for giving me authorization on a few Time Lord! You have some serious writing skill!
Time in a Bottle
Stranded on a coastline in the barren waists of an abysmal beach, I press my heart within this bottle in hopes beloved’s hands it reach. My castaway soul has met it’s keeper’s will, across the waters, near the breakers, where good and evil kill. The shape of time in-which I’m thine, has cast my heart adrift, while it’s stranded I am, while through my hands, short sands of time doth sift. Lost am I as I sit upon it’s sands, a lost man in time forgotten left for not, in the god’s forsaken land. Fore it’s by bandits I crossed and now I watch as they make their way, with all of my life passing them with each of the ocean’s waves. It’s fitting now that I should look once more into eyes as beautiful as thine, as I stare into death’s doorway, abandon in the waists of time. Beautiful dragon doth come for me now, while my arrows lay in a murderer’s fleas. I could pry them out, but t’would only delay thy loveliness’s feast. Come for me now as I am forgotten within your arms I prey, fore death is my cradle and I in love, in your beauty’s death I lay. Forgotten for your love I’ll sleep, as I cork my hearts content, looking into eyes so beautiful as thine, in a dragon’s love I commit. No more love have I left to give or coddle, as I press my heart’s release, within this bottle.Forgive me my beloved, all else is silent…
Hi Everyone, Lord Baldrith here with the 2nd story of Islug. I love doing this comedy…Very good writing to practice my comedic voicing on!
Here is the text version:
OOC NOTE ON THE ORIGIN: This is a piece making fun of how sometimes NPC’s can be rather lacking in conversation and that sometimes game bugs can put coin back into your pocket.
Islug walks out of the leatherworking shop after a long day of study with the trainer. Whistling to himself, pleased with the new skills he has learned. Suddenly he stops and a grin spreads on his face as he sees a tavern. He stops in, has a few drinks (depending on your perspective) and ends up sleeping in one of the upstairs rooms. Next day as he’s smiling to himself with thoughts of the lovely Wench from the previous night as he is about to see to the days hunting, he notices his money pouch seems a bit heavy. Looking inside his eyes go wider as he sees five gold coins in it. Now knowing that before he paid for his latest training he only had 5 gold coins he begins to think back as to whether he had in fact actually paid. On thinking about it he clearly remembers paying! “Hmmm, must’ve gave it back me being famous an all. Just ave to keep it”. Few minutes go by an he’s about to head out for the hunt and he’s thinking to himself “Well, nothing for it, I ave to go give it back, cant face guild mates knowing I stiffed some trainer”. Heading back into the shop he notices no one is around except the trainer so heads straight over to him “Excuse me lad, but I appreciate ye giving me this back, but I can’t take it. Services rendered an all that”. Islug holds out the pouch. A few seconds go by “Look lad, its okey really, take it.” Few more seconds go by “Lad, this is nae funny, will ye take the damn gold?” Few more seconds go by “Least say something lad.”
Few more seconds go by “LAD IM GETTING”G REALLY ANNOYED HERE!! TAKE IT OR SAY SOMETHIIG!!!” Islug starts shaking his crossbow at the vendor “LEAST YE CIN DO IS AVE THE C…” *THUNK*. Islug’s crossbow is now empty, and the trainer falls to the floor with a pool of blood running around him. “Ermmmm….oops?” Islug looks around quickly to make sure no one noticed him, shrugs and leaves the building as he says to himself “Well, glad that’s taken care of”. LATER THAT NIGHT Drifting inside the local tavern, you clearly hear Islug yell “That’s right, drinks on me tonight!!!”.
(Edit note From Stile – A personal thank you to Vandigeth who gave permission to allow us to do this piece for a podcast).
Hi Lord Baldrith here with a great Story by Vandigeth called the Cavern. Also seen on the community spotlight last year. I am doing some voicing of multiple characters. It’s a big challenge to remember who is who 🙂 Here is the link:
She stood on the rocky precipice looking out upon the dense rock that filled this cavern. The sound of water filled the air before her; its smell gave what little freshness there was to be had in this dank place. A humid mist permeated the air and diffused the light across the cavern.
Jumping down from her precipice, she rejoined her companions across a small wooden bridge over the sheltered river. The stalagmites and other cavernous formations spoke to the absolute timelessness of this place. To her left was a modest waterfall, an obvious inlet of moisture from the surface far above this place.
The tread of one’s shoe was important here unless great care were taken. Moisture put off by the river both beautified the cavern but acted as a deadly host to her earnest companions. A simple mistake with one’s footing could result in a fall into the river below, or gravity between the rock and one’s head. However, she had much more experience moving through these so-called ‘catacombs’ than any of her companions.
Finally, she caught up to the companions. Two of them, both male, were a wealthier sort from the cities. Flush with cash and equipment, they hired her to guide them across the continent on a pilgrimage to a famous shrine of Honor. Both were showing their inexperience now as they began to question her about the caves to which she had become so familiar.
“Yintara, does this place have a name? It is simply incredible in its size and scope.” The one man stated with his academic urban tone. “Come now, speak girl.”
She shook her head, “Nah, ‘tis but a dank old cavern. We should move along.” The lie was to guard the secrets of the cavern. Of course it had a name, but it would do them no good.
The other man spoke up, “Think of it Jinta, we could name it after ourselves at the college back home.” A sparkle of ambition and pride filled his eyes that dwarfed the sparkling jewelry with which he adorned himself.
“A marvelous mark of discovery on our record it would be Klint.” Jinta nodded in agreement in awe of the underworld before him.
Yintara kicked some stones across the cavern floor into the river below to kill some time while the gentlemen stroked their egos and waxed intellectual about their geological knowledge. She watched as the river flowed by with a slight roar that echoed throughout the cavern. She casually listened to Klint and Jinta.
Jinta turned to Klint, “Yes, the formation over there came from the droplets of water of ceiling depositing calcium over centuries or more…” he trailed off into a diatribe of geological knowledge for a time. Klint didn’t back down, and showed his knowledgeable side too and they engaged in speculations that would challenge the Virtue of Humility itself. All the sorts of creatures that may or may not exist living in these caverns and the ecosystems they might participate in.
Klint walked over to his right to a stalagmite. It was thick, at least the width of a man, but at the base of the formation was a strange batch of white growths. They disguised themselves well as rocks, but it was a living organism down here beneath the surface. All part of an ever growing underworld taking shape beneath the feet of civilization.
“Yintara, any idea what these are?” Klint poked at one with a beautiful jeweled knife in his hand that had inlaid gemstones in the shape of an ankh. He attempted to lift one from the ground with the tip of his blade.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” She stated frankly without even looking at what he was doing.
Klint stopped and looked over at her. “Why not? And you didn’t answer my question.” He looked over at Jinta for some support in what could be a confrontation.
“Ya didn’t hire me to give you the grand tour, just to get ya across these caverns.” She stated as she chewed a leaf of some kind in her mouth. “Just don’t mess with it.”
Klint took some offense to her words and marched over to Jinta. “Who exactly does she think she is? She works for us, and…” Jinta cut him off before he could finish his statement.
“Don’t let it bother you. What is to be expected of folks from outside the cities but poor manners and lack of thirst for knowledge.” He said with a condescending tone, “We must remind ourselves that we are on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Honor, and it is Honor we will bring to ourselves and our home city and even mankind!” His grandiose speech seemed to effect Klint’s mood, but Yintara remained unbothered now spitting at the river below.
Klint nodded and returned to the small organism on the rock floor. “We are here for the advancement of all mankind and bring Honor!” He boasted loudly over the roar of the river throughout the cavern. Returning with his knife, he once again began prodding the little white thing on the floor.
With a sigh, Yintara turned to face her employers and watched as they observed the specimen. She looked up at the ceiling of this cavern and noted the well-known curtain shaped formations along it. The wide arches always impressed her in this place, even for as often as she sees them.
“Ya realize I’m paid by the hour, aye?” She shouted over to them in hopes to move them along.
“Shush girl, we are studying and well aware of your payment as we arranged it for you.” Jinta stated with authority as if she were a servant girl inside his island castle off the coast of his property. The jingle of coin in his purse was an alluring sound as they jabbed the strange thing.
Yintara rolled her eyes and kicked her feet as she attempted to kill more time, but slowly began making her way back to the wooden bridge. She was all too familiar with this place. Her family was from a town beneath the surface where they traded with passers-by on the highways of the underworld. A sort of black market, one could say. Her childhood was spent combing these caves and learning all their secrets. Finding employment on the surface as a guide brought extra money in for her family back home since business could rise and fall depending on all sorts of circumstances.
Her parents had taught her about the Virtues, but in her hometown none was more celebrated than the Virtue of Humility; however, in turn mostly forsaking the remaining Virtues. She surmised that perhaps the most forsaken Virtue of their town was Honesty, but that was a debate left to wiser men she thought. These companions she was guiding were committing a hubris of great scale for her and her culture, an offense not taken well by denizens of these caverns. Humility was respect. Humility was everything.
“Come, girl, we have a task for you.” Jinta stated plainly now acting as though he could simply control her as he saw fit. He hadn’t even bothered to look up at her to bark his order.
She approached a few feet but maintained a distance. “What is it?” She asked with restraint. It was all she could do to not call him ‘boy’ in return, but that would endanger her own sense of Humility.
“We want you to lift this thing off the ground for us. You must know how.” He continued to not even look at her. “Come now girl, we haven’t got all day.”
“No.” She simply stated and walked away.
“Listen here, we have hired you to work with us along our journey and…” He now spoke to her as if he were a father or some authority figure.
“No, you listen here. I’ll leave you to wander lost in these caverns for the rest of your days if you don’t watch yourself.” With that, she turned and walked some distance away to restrain the fury building inside her.
“Think of the Honor we will bring civilization with this discovery!” He pleaded to her sense of the Virtues, “Have you no Virtue, girl?!” He turned back to the specimen with disgust. “We will figure it out ourselves and you will wait for us then.”
It had become a matter of pride now for the two, she thought. They wouldn’t easily let this one go until she complied with their wishes or they figured it out for themselves. A smirk streaked across her face as she realized that things had become all too easy for this venture.
Jinta held in his hand a flat blade, jewel encrusted as well, with the mark of a chalice on it. He was now shoving it underneath the white organism disguised as a rock. He was focused on getting this thing detached from the floor now to save his pride.
Klint stood up and looked out around the cavern. Very light purple specks floated around the cavern that he hadn’t noticed before. They were few and perhaps he had easily missed them. He shook his head as he wiped some sweat from his brow after fooling with this specimen for easily fifteen minute now. Very rarely had he engaged in such hard work in his time, and watched Jinta forcefully remove this specimen from the floor.
“Pchffffffffffft.” The specimen broke off and burst open releasing a cloud of the purple spores. Jinta and Klint immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with the foreign agents. In less than a minute the cloud had dispersed and they looked around for Yintara. She had vanished into the darkness of the caverns around them.
They tried to talk or yell for her but the coating of spores in their lungs and larynx had deadened their ability to speak. Quickly the two men got to their knees and pulled out their fine leather canteens and attempted to drink and wash away the spores. The water was rejected as they spit it out onto the floor of the cavern, and dizziness began to sweep over them.
“Your hubris to the Virtue of Humility has swept upon you. Feel your punishment.” Yintara’s voice could be heard echoing throughout the chasm now. The echoes obscured her exact position from them.
Jinta pulled from under his shirt a prized golden, emerald studded miniature chalice on a gold chain around his neck. He grasped both hands around the chalice and began rocking back and forth as the weakness began to spread throughout his body.
Klint had regurgitated onto the floor and rose to desperately search for Yintara’s location. He stumbled across the bridge and around a column, searching for who he believed had all the answers and could have prevented this. Finally fatigue began to overcome him as the spores took full effect inside his body. Looking at Jinta, he finally understood and fell to his knees again. From under his shirt he removed a jewel encrusted ankh of a considerably heavy metal.
He grasped it with both hands began to mouth some kind of words or prayer. Perhaps hoping for the compassion of some deity, or the compassion of Yintara to finally descend from the shadows and end this nightmare. As they both knelt there praying the spores progressively reduced their consciousness. Soon they would be overcome by the spores, and they believed death surely awaited them.
Slowly they both fell flat onto the floor of the caverns and slipped into a deep sleep. Klint blinked his eyes a few last times and noticed a pair of shoes quickly approaching them. Hopefully Yintara had heard his plea for Compassion, he thought as he finally slipped away.
A dream began in his mind, and it seemed as though Jinta had joined him in a conscious state, both joined together somehow in this dream. A voice spoke to them from a white light surrounded by blue and then darkness. It tried to teach them of Humility to bring about some change in them. Walking them through clichéd examples of how their actions had affected others, and what they could do to help reestablish their Virtue of Humility.
Meanwhile, Yintara had found the men after they had fallen unconscious and the spores had dissipated into the stale atmosphere of the caverns with a large sack slung across her shoulder now. Her lungs and Virtue had long adapted to the spores, barely affecting her anymore, but it was always important to respect nature. Slowly but surely she methodically unbuckled, unlatched, and removed all the belongings from Klint as though she had done this a hundred times before.
She stuffed his jeweled ankh into the sack with his fine leather canteen. The fine Baron’s clothes would make a wonderful addition to her father’s shop back home. The coin purse held in excess of five hundred gold, a worthy sum for any journey. She questioned how they could be so stupid as to not have a hired an escort accompany them into the caverns, but they were not alone in this stupidity. Perhaps they trusted too much in people’s Honor, she thought.
After stripping Klint clean of valuables she moved into Jinta. Jinta’s equipment reflected a very sincere devotion to Honor and forsaken all other virtues. Almost everything, including his belt buckle, had an Honor chalice engraved upon it. His clothes had the markings of a Duke upon them, and they would fetch a fine price at the markets. Searching his coin purse, he carried with him in excess of seven hundred gold. She had really struck it rich on this venture.
Sorting through the coin purse she found a note deep inside. Unraveling it, she found written upon it “Jinta, should the girl prove invaluable I deem that we should double her pay upon completion of services rendered. It is both the Honorable, and Compassionate, thing to do. –Klint” A slight pang of remorse swept over her for a moment. To mock this note would break her own notions of Humility. The thought of leaving these two gentlemen, no matter how hoity and condescending they may be, now left her feeling sour about the situation.
She sat back and thought about it for a moment. Perhaps overcome with the sense of Compassion that Klint had, she decided that they weren’t going to get there stuff back but she wouldn’t leave them completely helpless. Reaching back into her sack she removed each of their blades and left it by their sides for when they awoke some hours later. Taking the note she found, and a piece of charcoal from Jinta’s coin purse, she drew a shoddy map to return them the way they came and left it under Jinta’s knife.
Finally feeling as though her duty to Compassion and Humility had been served, she hoisted the sack over her shoulder and fled into the darkness of the deep caverns once again. The sound of her footsteps echoed softer as the cavern became completely still. Only the roar of the river now remained in this cavern.
Klint began blinking as he awoke. He went to grab his necklace to thank Compassion for bringing them back but realized it was gone. Not only was it gone, but everything was gone except his undergarments and his knife beside him. He shook his head and slammed his fist into the rock floor realizing now that they had been robbed. He had to wonder if she had been planning it this whole time.
Looking over at Jinta, he saw that he had already awoken and was sitting on a rock nearby looking at a parchment with his knife in hand. He walked closer to Jinta and asked, “I’m guessing the spore acted as some kind of sleep-inducing hallucinogen. It was like we were in the same dream.” Klint sat down next to Jinta.
Jinta simply nodded as he stared at the paper.
“What’s that?” Klint asked trying to get something out of him.
“It looks like a map. I’m guessing Yintara didn’t want to leave us to die down here.” Jinta stated with a resigned voice. “I dreamt of Humility too; I think those spores joined us in a dream somehow. They connected us in some way.”
Klint looked around the cavern. “Well, I suppose we had better get moving. We’ve got no food or water and we won’t last long down here.” He stood up and began moving toward the small wooden bridge.
Jinta sighed and looked at Klint. “Aye, you’re right. We’d best be going.” He walked over to the organism that had sprayed them earlier. “We may as well take it for study and get something out of this trip besides a moral lesson.”
Klint laughed, “Grab it and let’s move.”
Picking up the dead organism, Jinta joined Klint by his side and they both looked down the dark tunnel from where they had come sometime earlier. “Do you think anything is down there?”
Klint shrugged, “I don’t know, there wasn’t when we came this way.”
The two began moving toward their destination with blades drawn and a wary walk. It was nearly a day’s journey to the surface from here, and that was with a guide. As they passed the threshold from the cavern into the tunnels ahead, a large shadow skittered through the darkness beside them. Unaware of the dark red eyes watching as the two passed into the dense interconnected tunnels of the system known on the surface as the ‘catacombs’. As they disappeared into the distance so did the red eyes in tow. Soon all that remained was the roar of the river in the ancient cavern known as Rogue’s Rest.
Hello everyone! Lord Baldrith here with the latest installment of the newscast. I have tried some more sound settings and organization of the background music and even messed around with special effects.
The background music is by Steven J Goldman, Shroud of the Overture, Part I. Thanks again Steven for letting me use your music on the podcasts, I really love this piece!
Here is one I wrote a few months ago as a sample. I guess it can be included here too. A bit creepy, wonder if we can have dark gloom scenes like that in the game!
The Band of Bards
How the gloom was tended by the will of the fallen angels. Every bit of ash in the campfire had been blown away by the wicked winds heckling through the trees. The fall of the crackling oaken branches was subdued by the angry raindrops pouring down upon the dreary shattered clearing.
The place where the tent had been so neatly sited was now just a memory in the passage of time. The darkened passaged leading to the serrated mountain was all that remained of a place once full of laughing and singing mere hours before. The small band of bards had quickly retreated from the massive droplets of water which suddenly poured on their faces like wave of cold water from a turbulent sea.
Unfortunately, the wind beaten path leading them to the mountain was also littered with broken branches, jagged rocks and pieces of broken glass from their own supplies. The wind made it nearly impossible to tread quickly to the asylum of the mountain. Some had fallen into the mud from disorientation of the water and wind on their faces. The stronger of the bards was unable to see properly to grasp the hands of distraught others, and instead stumbled into the broken path themselves. Shrieking with pain the members of the band were further terrorized by loud bursts of thunder overhead, thrashing sounds echoed in their heads from the painfully shrill cracking of the massive gale.
Suddenly, the wind became calm, and the road became clear. The band of bards struggled to stand on their feet. They staggered painfully to the jagged mountain. The darkness seemed less perilous, and for the first time since the goblets of wine had been torn from their hands, they felt a sense of hope. They all struggled towards the opening, with heavy steps and bloodied limbs, then entered into a narrow opening within the massive mountainside.
The interior of the opening was dank. The only light was dimly lit from the half moon glowing faintly through the thick clouds in the sky. All of their belongings had been lost and broken, and the only pursuit they could hope for was a freezing night mashed together in this small damp cave. With no blankets or fire, they huddled together and chatted tearfully.
One of the bards pulled a small harmonica from his pocket and played softly. The dank air lightened, and the band of bards slowly drifted to sleep.
Lord Baldrith here with A humorous story written by our own Sir Stile Teckel! Well, it gives me a chance to mess around with voices…Hopefully it’s not too bad 🙂
Whistling to himself with a pipe lit in one hand and a mug of ale in the other, Islug walks over to a postal center to check on his deliveries. Upon entering the Postal master gives Islug a dirty look and says “Islug, dam ye, yer taking up all my space, will ye get that delivery outta ere?”
Islug looks to where the man is pointing and sees several large bundles. Quickly draining his mug and clipping it to his belt, dumping his pipe and sticking it in a pouch he grabs the packages and runs off in obvious glee. The postal master shakes his head “Wonder what the bloody ell that was about?”
A few moments later Islug is in a crafting hosue ripping open bundles and grinning “Ye outdid yerself Lika, this is fantastic!”
Looking around Islug spots Minstril at work at shouts over at her “Min, ye ave those dyes I asked fer?”. She stops what she is working on and brings over several large bottles and hands them to Islug with a slight smirk. Islug glares at her “What ye grinning bout lass?”.
“Oh nothing Islug, just wondering when you will be able to make that stuff on your own? Also, I mentioned a pay raise?”
Muttering Islug responds “I am not this good yet! An as far as yer raise….” Islug glances at the dyes and continues “Olive? We’ll talk about yer salary increase when ye can get me the blacks, whites, and Royal Purple’s I asked ye fer!” Then ignoring the Alchemist Islug begins dumping the new armor into dye tubs and adding Olive dye.
Once the armor is dry, in his excitement Islug runs over to a mirror and beings stripping his current armor off and putting on the new pieces. Once finished he begins turning and modeling it in the mirror. A moment later all work stops in the hall as Islug begins yelling at the mirror “Y’AH WHOS THE MAN? EH? WHOS THE MAN? LOOK AT YE IZZY LAD, YER THE MAN, THATS RIGHT, YER THE MAN!!! GO OUT AN SHOW EM WHO THER DADDY IS IZZY! TIME TA KICK SOME ARSE AND TAKE NAMES!!” This is punctuated with various Fist pumps and poses.
As he turns away from the mirror the smile quickly drops from his face as he realizes the craft house has gone silent and nearly fifty people are staring at him, work having come to a stand still. Turning very red Islug points to a random direction and yells “DRAGON!!”, then quickly, runs from the house with all eyes following him.
Later that night, in the tavern Islug is heard telling a story with his pipe waving through the ear punctuating each sentence “That’s right I tell ye! Dragon in the crafting house! Must’ve been twenty foot tall and spitting flames all about it! So I was there try’n ta intimidate it by tell’n it I was a superior fight’r an all. Meanwhile everyone in the blasted place is star’n at me like I’d gone nuts! Ye think they’d pay better attention ta a Dragon creep’n bout. So I got it ta chase me with some insults and ran it outta the place!”
A powerful short poem written by our own Time Lord. Read by me Lord Baldrith. Good work Time Lord!
“Customs Are Built, From Those Brave That Challenge!”
Come we to the sanctuary of where free air can truly be ours
Feed that which binds us in customs for we to enjoy for many hours
Set a pen to adventure’s words to rend humbly to all ears
Take quill and parchment freely expressed Fore customs make years
Place a set beacon for we all to beckon for even more joyous times
When freedom becomes a wind that blows our adventure’s chimes
Take all hearts here to the stage where our stories can all ring
Far from any censorious courts of any oppressing in the name of our King!
“One Land, One King! Grand Bards Come All! And Welcome To New Britannia!”
Here is Eriador’s Poem read in english by me Lord Baldrith. Awesome poem Eriador!
Letters from Barataria (*Barataria was an imaginary wonderful place that Quixote promised to Sancho)
There was no enemy capable to sink your moral, or defeat that could shake your principles. You were always true to yourself, without betraying yourself because of what others said. You offered the heart in a selflessly way and there was no despise that prevented you to do it.
You charged against monsters and villains, without a minimum hesitation, to make the world a better place. You were you able to understand that an emaciated animal could be the most beautiful steed in the universe, and you demonstrated us with your nobility that the courage, the trust and the love were much more needed and piercing weapons than the most ferrous spear.
For you the life was an adventure full of dreams to realize, a continuous joust where only was defeated who believed it. We must be crazy.