[Empire] Twice-Heeled Travelers of Telluris [Archive]

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QuintonBeck

2015-06-17, 08:25 AM

It was with a raucous and hearty laugh that the Caravan Master responded to the Union representative asking him for his Guild papers.

"Papers? We don't need no stinking papers!"

Around the Caravan Master and the Union bureaucrat hundreds, no thousands, of traders, merchants, magicians, performers, con-men, and various traveling folks of such various stripes of life and colored history as to appear to be some great meeting of all the men and women across Telluris bustled to and fro unpacking and setting up tents and stalls to begin hawking their wares. The Union official looked around disturbed. This massive caravan had arrived from the east, coming out of Calorum like some wave of color and sound and descending on the border of Aloren like a pack of ravenous locusts. They were only a couple miles north of Miji Mkuu and the jungle was sparse in the area though the open space was quickly filling up as these so called "Twice Heeled Travelers" fanned out from behind the man who claimed to be their leader. The Caravan Master was a portly sort with a thick mustache slicked out to the sides with grease and curled upwards at its tips. He wore a garish red overcoat over a multi dyed vest and stained with travel white shirt tucked into a pair of riding breeches despite his apparent lack of a horse or other mount. A small pack of young boys and girls went running by the two men holding stacks of pamphlets to their breasts and the bureaucrat happened to catch sight of one of the pamphlets as it fell.

~~Welcome to the Twice Heeled Travelers of Telluris' Festival of the Ages!~~

Come one come all to the first centennial appearance of the Twice Heeled Travelers Festival of the Ages an event of love, beauty, intrigue, wonder, and above all else the best deals you'll ever find! Looking to catch a show with the family? Come and see Minga the Magnificent swallow Livefire of the distant East! Or come and see the strongest man alive lift over 50 men over his head without breaking a sweat! Perhaps your tastes are more occult? Come and have your fortune told by Selena the Seer a fortune teller and witch of fabulous renown trained in the ancient arts of over 10,000 cultures!

Perhaps yours is a palette for the more involved? Come and participate in our Grand Boxing Match of Telluris! Wage your mettle against our expert fighters in dazzling displays of fisticuffs for a chance to face our Travelling Champion Bill "Ironjaw" Reedcliffe and a reward of a lifetime supply of Traveler's Tonic said to give any man an edge on the field of battle! And while you're watching our finest fighters spill blood and sweat for your entertainment don't hesitate to peruse our fine local vendors for access to the rare but tasty Garret's Garanade, the sweet but succulent Samwell Saurus Steaks, or the confoundingly sweet confections of Cleo's Choclatiers!

But if you still aren't satisfied fret not! For the deals promised to you are many and obtuse! We have vendors from the north, south, east, west, and underground peddling wares unknown to all but the Twice Heeled Travelers themselves! Seeds of Plenty? We have them! Shimmering Mirrors! An overstock! Corinthian Crafted Jewels! Expensive but worth every penny! And for the truly discerning, for the man or woman who must truly have it all, be it all, and reign supreme? We will hold an auction on the evening of our final day to auction off a most rare and powerful artifact authenticated for its magical and supernatural acuity by over 100 mystics and known to grant its bearer untold power! Of course, those who wish to know it must attend the Festival to see it!

So come one come all, come big or small, to Northern Aloren where the Twice Heeled Travelers have set up their camp for the next month to entertain, enjoy, communicate with the most blessed inhabitants of Telluris!

The buerecrat leaned down to snatch the paper up from the ground and stared at it in horror.

"You cannot distribute these! We must prepare for something like this! Quickly, stop those children!"

"My friend!" the Carvan Master slapped the man on the back and pulled him into a side hug, "Those pamphlets are only to inform the residents of your city to the south! Surely they should be allowed to come if all of Telluris is looking to attend, no?"

The Union man's face sunk.

"All of Telluris? How... Why... Who are you people!?"

"We are the Twice Heeled Travelers my friend! Go enjoy the festivities!" With that the Caravan Master pushed the bureaucrat into a small gaggle of attractive young women who giggled as they caught the fumbling bureaucrat and dragged him away.

The Caravan Master grinned as he surveyed the activity. He could not wait to see who would answer the invitation!

Events
Boxing Tournament - Express in a spoiler an interest and who you wish to enter if desiring to enter the boxing match. Mechanics will be simple and non reliant on scores. Winner receives lifetime supply of Traveler's Tonic and associated technologies.

Resources for Trade
1 Stack of Geras Fruit (& Geras Fruit elixir technology!)
1 Stack of Cattle (& Advanced Animal Husbandry technology!)
1 Stack of Chocolate (& Salterri Cuisine technology!)
1 Stack of Seeds of Plenty (& Advanced Agriculture technology!)
1 Stack of Hai Vyuma (& Hai Vyuma Bending technology!)
1 Stack of Gemstones (& Central Banking technology!)
1 stack of Livefire (& Tzaltec Fire technology!)
1 Unknown Artifact to be Auctioned off towards the end of the festival

Gengy

2015-06-17, 09:52 AM

PepperP.

2015-06-17, 03:56 PM

KOI

Meryn flew on the back of Jura, his second daughter Alynda secured in front of him. He and Mellado had offered for her to ride her own dragon, Ohen, to the Festival in Aloren, but Alynda was far more reserved than her older sister and had refused, preferring to ride with her father. He could see Maevys up ahead of them on Galzra, racing Mellado through the clouds as they sailed in and out of the air currents, circling downwards as they reached their destination.

Flying next to him was Semelea and her guard Henlief on Hirador, Semelea had been granted a leave of absence from the austere diplomatic outpost of Urusilium and relished the chance to negotiate with the Caravan Masters for exotic goods. She had packed the dragon's saddlebags full of potentially tradeable items to tempt the merchants with. Henlief had heard of the boxing competition and though he hated to travel, the prospect of a good brawl brought a grin to his scarred face.

Princess Mellado Roimoata, Married
Prince-Consort Meryn FitzJarrow, Married
Princess Maevys Roimoata, Springling, 14, betrothed.
Princess Alynda Roimoata, Springling, 12, Unbetrothed, seeking human betrothal.
Foreign Affairs Ambassador Semelea, Not seeking partnership. Negotiating for Hai Vyuma and the related tech.
First Guard, Henlief Deathbranch, Not seeking partnership. Entering Boxing Match.

QuintonBeck

2015-06-17, 09:43 PM

Praeclarus

Arriving upon the back of the mighty Belua, Custos, recently appointed Chief Orator G'gjin looks excited. He and the few other Makgrull that are here are looking forward to the opportunities involved with the trading caravan, and the revelry never hurt either.

G'gjin also privately admits to himself that he wouldn't mind finding out about his fortune. When everyone has set up a base camp - relatively easy, when you've got Custos towering over pretty much everyone - G'gjin set out to find Selena the Seer... if only for G'gjin's own curiosity. He promised himself that he'd do this one thing first, and then he'd see what it would take to get a chance to speak with the Caravan Master. But... it was a festival. It would be rude, wouldn't it, to not enjoy it first?

T'chep, may he rest in peace, always taught G'gjin that it wasn't wrong to have both business and pleasure. In moderation, of course.

Custos the Belua is interested in this Boxing Match. But if you want to fight 'man to man', I've got a couple Makgrull whom would be up to it.

G'gjin is headed towards Selena the Seer.

The multitude of pavilions, stalls, and tents made a difficult maze to navigate but every customer, visitor, and sightseer found a friendly and helpful face to direct them where they were seeking to go. The Praclarus delegation received nary a sideways glance from the Travelers despite their unique appearance among the primarily human and fae members of the caravan. The only looks came up when G'gjin asked about Selena the Seer, the visitors exchanging hushed and knowing glances before pointing him off in the right direction. The Chief Orator's fellows insisted they heard snickering and laughter after the Chief Orator had turned his back though could not say for sure.

The witch fortune teller known as Selena was set up in a purple and black linen tent sitting in the shade beneath a tree on the edge of the camp. A firepit sat outside smoldering beneath a large black pot that boiled a sludge that boiled and popped releasing a smell reminiscent of cinnamon and onions. Despite the revelry and packed atmosphere elsewhere there was respectful distance paid to this particular grounds such that it almost seemed abandoned. A few of the Makgrull began to mutter that perhaps the fortune teller wasn't there when the flap to the dark tent flapped open and an old woman dressed in an oversized hood and cloak staggered out and began to walk toward G'gjin. Before anyone could utter a greeting however she veered off and around the Makgrull, heading into the crowd though the delegation of Praeclaus heard her mutter under her breath,

"My son, my son, my poor beautiful son..."

From the tent flap a beautiful young female woman appeared, bangles and bracelets dangling on her thin wrists, her black hair pulled back by a red band of cloth. She had dark sharp eyes that belied a knowing intelligence and though her dress was as risque as a 'modest' Raaneki she wore it in such a way that seemed to indicate it was a tool not a show.

"Ah, one seeks to hear their fortune told by Selena?" the woman spoke with an unusual accent and she approached G'gjin with a strangely confident swagger, "It is this one, no?" she traced a finger up the Chief Orator's chest, letting it flick off him and back in front of her to accent her speech, "I can see much in store for this one, the nearing future calls strong to this one. I would like to know what it is the spirits are calling to tell me of this one, but even for this one there is a price."

While she was talking the woman had made her way over to a small sandwich board sign upon which was painted in faded but fancy letters: "Fortune telling 1 Igno, Tarot Card Reading 2 Ignos, Seance 1 Fedha"

"Does this one desire enough to pay to know? This answer is known to me. Come and join me in my tent when you are ready."

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drack

2015-06-17, 10:18 PM

Five women shambled through the crowd, their faces all frowns and glares as they scanned the crowd. It might almost be thought they were looking for someone were it not for the jerky crooking of their necks and sputtering tones which gave them more the air of those ready to bite off the head of the first person they talked to. Not that they didn't talk to each other in some foreign tongue, hissing and cawing like savages, dressed as they were in stitched togeather rags of colorful fabrics, firs, scales, and leathers. Four were old and shriveled, with nails half a foot long and tangled locks of dirty-grey hair down to their waste spilling as much over the front as the back, swaying, parting, and tangling as they moved. The fifth looked maybe thirty years old, but the way she stared off into the distance overhead the others in the crowd with her pale blue eyes was eerily disturbing. Of the other four, one was covered from head to toe in rattling bone ornaments like a walking Christmas tree decorated by a maddened death enthusiast. Many of the bones don't even belong to creatures that exist so far as anyone can tell. Another is covered in the red blisters of the pox from head to toe, angrily bubbling, and bursting to release a faint purplish miasma which sinks to the ground and globs of greenish slime which remain wherever the pox sores burst. Of the other two one seems to have remained unexcited by the whole ordeal, and the fifth looks somewhere between antsy and angry, and apparently ignorant to the croaking sounds coming from her bag.
"Kara Muradash Humpfa!" The one bedecked in bones declares angrily to nobody in particular.
"Prufet Atat Et Arrey." The unexcited one reminds her somewhat monotonously.
"Harfala." The young one adds without looking, but with the sort of weight commonly reserved for stinging insults, high handed demands, or truly philosophically provocative statements.
"Manda Karassa!" The woman garbed in bones spits. "Hexsa Selena Shlump Mull."

"Excuse we." The one with the croaking bag asks an entertainer in the common trade tongue. "Where goes by 'Selena the Seer'?"

lt_murgen

2015-06-18, 07:58 AM

The Seaborne Confderation sent a trade delegation to the event. The latest Skyship from the Naval Academt of the Jeweled Cities, the “Endlesss Horizon”, travelled with a pack of skywhales laden with goods. The ship settled down near the southern edge of the trade festival, and within hours, numerous tents and pavilions sprouted around it like mushrooms on a forest floor.
Two figures of prominence stood at the center of the action. A Galomyrii named Matsura GoldTalon represented the Confederation proper. Darryl Grant of the famed Grant family line, represented the Free Alliance of Trading Ships. The pair were inseparable, taking personal time only when forced by their partners.

Goldtalon and Darryl set out to find the Geras Fruit, Seeds of Plenty, and gemstones vendors. The first two were resources they wished to acquire, the third was to talk about long-term deals for Jeweled Cities raw gemstones.

Arvin, at the urging of the young Grant children, set off for the boxing ring.

Matsura GoldTalon: Galomyrii leader of contingent. The youngest Scholar of Trade ever to receive a Master certification from the University of Galomyr, he is quite popular with the Confederation Congress interested in promoting trade. It was his efforts that brought about the skywhale domestication and third trading posts in each region.
Robin Flowers An attractive Islander girl with far too little clothing and far too many piercings for polite company. GoldTalon’s girlfiend.
Darryl Grant: Son of Grand Admiral Amber Anderson. Having recently wrested control of the Free Alliance of Trading Ships, he represents them.
Elise of Guilder: Darryl’s wife
Violet and Maisy grant: (b. 543) Their twin children
Arvin Cloudshoulders: An exiled Risen from Sanglea. Nearly 8 feet tall. Scholar, exploring the potential connection between the people of Sanglea and the Anacta giants of Vennland. His personal belief that they are a cross-breed of giant and Spriggan was what got him exiled. Stocky build, with dull brown hair and thick wrinkly skin.
A horde of free traders and Confederation diplomats

https://i.warosu.org/data/tg/img/0386/02/1426017082098.jpg
http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2009/354/5/0/Flying_Ship_by_cmwelsh89.jpg
http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2013/214/e/f/flying_whales_by_mariokoller-d6gbfy2.jpg?width=500

Grape Lotus Extract- 3
Kyright Mushroom- 3
Thundersheet Plats -1
Trading posts in Bloomenwald -2
Trading posts in Gaolmyr -2
Trading posts in Propinlonge -3
Trading posts in Sea of Glass -1
Trading posts in Tar -2
Trading posts in jeweled Cities -1
Aloe Vera- 1
Galomyrii Sages- 3
Pigs- 1
Platinum- 1
Tropical Fruit- 1
Adamantium -2
Aeromancers-3
Tar-1
Wood -1
Tropical Fruit -1
Gemstones -1
Kelp-Olive oil -2
Ships -1

Aedilred

2015-06-18, 07:48 PM

"I wish I could share your confidence," Rayne muttered. "After all, Vekieris is hardly unobtrusive, and your father is the king."

Ameryn gave her husband a flat and somewhat derisive look. "I don't doubt that everyone spotted Vekieris when we arrived, but with that being the case, don't you think we would have noticed if Lumisand or Harmatis were here? This isn't my father's sort of event, and even if we are recognised we will be long gone by the time anyone comes to investigate."

The last few months had come as something of an unpleasant shock to the young couple, especially the princess who was used to a rather more opulent lifestyle. It had all seemed such a good idea at first, a romantic tale to rival that of the stories, but once the initial bliss had worn off, each had become rather annoyed with the other. She was frustrated that he refused to put his jousting talents to use in the Free Cities or Palas Caercia where they would be appreciated, and help them to build a new life, but Rayne was concerned that if they settled and they built a life for themselves it would only draw the attention of her family. Rayne had been horrified to learn that Ameryn had not got her father's permission before they married, while she was aggrieved at his craven response to learning that she had not. Periodically she would suggest returning to Jarrland and pleading with the king for clemency, but Rayne always flatly refused, sure that Alfrett would kill him on sight.

Instead they had bounced from land to land, staying only long enough to shake off the dust of travel and not outstaying their welcome, ending up most recently in the depths of the Aloren forest and this mysterious fair. Perhaps it would help to lighten their mood, if nothing else.

Princess Ameryn, b.515
Sir Rayne Sempronis, her husband, b.510

Kitsanth

2015-06-18, 09:32 PM

Nyroth

Pacing back and forth, periodically glancing at a scrap of paper in his hand, was a man deep in thought. The gentle sway of an airship at moorings was of no bother, for he had been an Airship Captain for many years. But this missive was troubling. A wealth of goods on offer? From a people he had never heard of? One did not become Captain of one of Niskovia's Trade Fleets by keeping his head in the sand! But if it were true... and that young upstart Jenson beat him to the prize... Well he couldn't have that happen.

He strode over to the door leading from his private cabin - this perk came with being the Captain of course - and flung it open calling for the cabin boy as he did so.

"Fa- er, Sir?"

Of course, he had been right there waiting for him.

"Rally the crew son, we set sail for Aloren before sundown."

It was a major change in plans but they could have their shore leave in Aloren just as well as they could in Nyroth.

"Aye, Captain Smithson Sir!"

And he scampered off to do just that, prompting a smile from the Captain.

Fleet Captain James Smithson had initially been hesitant about pulling his son from that public school for a year, but his son had insisted that he could learn everything he needed to know right here doing the family trade. He had made such a convincing argument that James had agreed on the condition that he pass the school's year-end exams with flying colours, and if that happened young Steve would be allowed to continue on with this idea of his. But that was in the future, for now he was the most eager cabin boy that he had ever took on.

Meanwhile, in Aloren

"Secure the ship men!"

General affirmatives were yelled out as what seemed like chaos but was really a well practised routine ensued. The crew scurried about, tying down mooring lines, securing sails and seeing to the airship's Luftus Nochenwaurm.

The Captain turned to his first officer, "As soon as they're done, have the quartermaster give them all an allowance for leave."

"Aye, Captain Jenson. But where will you be, if I may ask?"

"There is an artefact about here some place, just waiting to be found!" The Captain said, brandishing a scrap of paper. "Just think, if I can secure that for our people?"

The first officer raised an eyebrow, "Of course Sir."

Sensing that was the end of the conversation, Captain Jenson set off in search of someone who could answer his questions. Looking about he saw that his was the only Niskovian vessel present. With luck that old fool Smithson wouldn't show, thus allowing Jenson to claim sole responsibility when he inevitable claimed this artefact for his people. Finally, something that would allow him to get ahead!

James Smithson, Trade Fleet Captain: middle-aged Cassaan, whose grandfather competed at the Fifth Tellurian Games
Steve Smithson: James' son, a shrew negotiator even at his young age
Lou Jenson, Trade Captain: an unscrupulous individual just starting out in this career, whose grandfather also competed at those Fifth Games

Dracolon

2015-06-19, 04:56 AM

Emert Sha’Lure, Third Spawn of the Leader of the Sha’Lure Stone Masons stepped lightly through the colorful tents. His father had dispatched him some years ago with his talent for sketching to gather designs from the many nations of the world. He had already sent home two sketch books from his stops and now he had arrived here to this caravan. Not much architecture to sketch in the tents but maybe he could find some carvings or statues to draw examples of for his family.

The excitement of the festivities was getting to him a bit and he found himself coughing a little on the air. Taking a breath from his water skin he sighed lightly. It had been a while since he had choked on air, it was embarrassing a little with the years of practice he had on the surface. Still he was the only Cealophyte he has seen here and he doubted anyone would realize his error.

Careful to keep his tentacles out from under the feet on the crowd he moved through looking at the interesting wares and looking for interesting people to make a connection with. After all he was out in the world representing the craftsmanship of the Sha’Lure Guild.

Emert Sha’Lure - Unmarried member of the Sha’Lure Stone Masons.
He glows a Sea Green and has only a pair of head tentacles which he wears in an engraved Anju’Tellurium band. As most wealthy of Cephalo’Di he prefers to wear Nyrothi Silk tops with no pants.
The Sha’Lure Guild was reasonable for the construction of the Deep Sea Foundry and has become one of the richest and most powerful Guilds in Cephalo'Di as a result.

lt_murgen

2015-06-19, 07:05 AM

"I wish I could share your confidence," Rayne muttered. "After all, Vekieris is hardly unobtrusive, and your father is the king."

Ameryn gave her husband a flat and somewhat derisive look. "I don't doubt that everyone spotted Vekieris when we arrived, ..."

Their arrival did not go unnoticed. Elise, wife of Darryl Grant, was ever the shrewd Guilderene. She had cajoled and persuaded her rather laid back husband into wresting control of the Free Traders back "to where it properly belonged". After the demise of the twins, FATS had fragmented into various sub-captains and factions. It took the better part of a decade of bribery, murder, and "good time honored pirate tactics" to acheive what they, what she desired. The vast inflows of cash from the poisioning of Tzalteclan didn't hurt, either.

She was determined to help the poor couple out. After all, she knew what it was like to be an exile. And if it empowered FATS, well then all the better.

QuintonBeck

2015-06-19, 08:09 AM

Witches

The shambling assembly of hunched and crooked witches were given a wide berth by most of the members of the festival though as the one spoke a younger man with a gaunt face and thin wiry frame stopped to answer her.

"Selena makes her camp on the west side of the festivities, seek her there," the man made to continue walking by them but as the witches headed off in the direction the man had indicated they noticed he had doubled back and appeared to be following them as they walked.

FATS

Goldtalon and Darryl were not hardpressed to locate the vendor for Geras Fruit, the man being set up in the center of the happenings and carrying on in such a grandiose and ostentatious way as to demand attention.

"This man is over 70 years old! Fit for the grave in a less fortunate time!" The vendor whose stall and makeshift pallet bore the name 'Garret's Garanade' shouted to passer bys and a small crowd while gesturing to a man who appeared to be no older than 50 at most, "But with my fine elixir wrung from the fruits of my own privately owned and grown Geras Tree, gift from the Thalmann Legacy, he has grown stronger, younger, and sharper than many a men his age. Look here upon this man's twin brother, born of the same womb and bearing the same blood who had not, until seeing his brother's magnificent transformation, begun to partake in treatments of my fabulous tonic!" the man gestured and another man stepped up on the makeshift stage. There was no denying he looked like a ten to twenty year older version of the man next to him but within the crowd some muttered about an 'older brother' rather than a twin.

"You can taste the age defying tonic taking effect, strengthening your mind and body with the very first sip and with weekly treatments you too can stave off old age from claiming your life. You there!" the man pointed to Darryl emphatically, "Freshly arrived and doubting perhaps my sincerity. Come up here and taste this fabulous drink and tell the crowd of the wonders it fills you with!"

KOI & Carmine

The arrival of the dragons bearing riders had been marked down by a serious and dour man standing beside the Caravan Master.

"Royals," he muttered, "Should I go and inform the Emperor?"

"Yes, he will want to know they are here, I will keep an especial eye out for the Guilderenes and their liege. I doubt the Silver Moon will show, they seem quite involved with their own political issues."

"Speaking of which, the Alydaxans accepted our extension of good faith."

"Good, the Emperor knows of this?"

"He informed me personally. I shall leave you to greet our guests while I got to speak with the Emperor."

"Very good, go and speak with Selena when you are finished. She's growing into a thorn, she must be reminded who she serves."

"Yes sir," the dour man answered currying away.

The Caravan Master straightened his jacket and recovered his pleasant and endearing smile, making his way over to the first set of dragon riders from the south.

drack

2015-06-19, 12:54 PM

Morph Bark

2015-06-19, 07:17 PM

Li He's eyes were aimed at the skies when he heard the distant familiar cries of dragons. They always made him feel rather uncomfortable, which made him glad that he was not required to bond with one out of familial obligations. He shuddered for a moment, and looked around.

He himself looked mostly rather ordinary for his rank--he was below average height and stocky, with a broad nose and a tanned face. His rust-coloured hair was already fading to grey at his age, and his eyes were the same colour as the ale he sold. His father was the third son from a lesser branch of the House of Li, and so he had to prove himself worthy in ventures other than governance, for his skills lay not in that area. His father had pushed him to at least take the Imperial Examination to become a bureaucrat, but when he had failed, the old man had relented.

"Is everything on the cart still in order?" He checked with Lien, who had driven the second cart with most of his wares. The young woman nodded at him, adjusted the scarf draped around her shoulders, and came down from the front of the cart. "Ah, it's good to stretch one's legs after those hours, master He," she sighed. "Must I get to work right away? I was hoping to get some rest and maybe wander the festival myself some."

From the front cart came laughter, as the flap of the cover was pushed aside and a woman emerged. She was remarkably overdressed for the locale and season, covering almost her entire body, with long sleeves and a long skirt in different green tones that made her blend in, whilst her pale skin and smooth, long raven hair made her stand out. She unfolded a parasol before getting out of the cart entirely. "I thought the ride was quite pleasant, but then I did not require to be seated with the merchant wares. Milord Merchant Prince," she said, turning to He, "do I have your permission to go out and visit the festival proper?"

Li He waved it off. "You don't need my permission, Lady Mavali. Enjoy yourself."

Li He, M, 523 -- Imperial Prince and merchant.
Chai Lien, F, 529 -- servant-squire to Li He.
Lauvia Mavali, F, 521?-526? -- shamaness and poet.

Looking to trade for "1 Stack of Cattle (& Advanced Animal Husbandry technology!)"

EDIT:
Chai Lien decides to enter into the boxing matches!

Kitsanth

2015-06-21, 12:03 AM

Captain Jenson glared at the flyer held in his hand. An entire day wasted and for nothing! None of the people he had questioned seemed to know anything about this supposed artefact. It would be night soon, well he could try again tomorrow. And it was possible that there was something else they had to offer. Sighing, he made his way towards where his ship was moored. With the way his luck had been thus far today, that old fool Smithson would probably have arrived by then.

OOC note: Smithson will be seeking to secure trades for the following;

Advanced Animal Husbandry technology
Salterri Cuisine technology
Central Banking technology

Gengy

2015-06-21, 10:59 AM

G'gjin and the Seer

Coins. Of course. G'gjin sighed. T'chep would have had some prepared. G'gjin had much to learn still. He wondered if his deceased mentor had ever had a moment of unprepared concern; if T'chep had, G'gjin certainly couldn't remember it. G'gjin made a short walk around stalls, and found a gemstone trader. With haggling skills that G'gjin wasn't confident in - but honestly, would have impressed a few people - he talked the trader into exchanging two small gold ingots from the Orator's own collection into a considerable amount of coinage.

Returning to Salena's tent a few moments later, G'gjin walked inside. He laid the coins down on the table in front of him. All told, there were probably 10 Ignos and 3 Fedha. If he were being honest, G'gjin had no clue if this were enough or overpriced, but he smiled an easy Makgrull grin, and said, "Whatever this gets me, oh Seer. I am two things in one. I am Makgrull. So I am curious, and I am generous."

Praeclarus will attempt to trade for the Geras Fruit. And the Gemstones. They won't be very aggressive about it. They also have interest in the so called 'Artifact', but not enough to send the Chief Orator to check out what it is.

Other Orators seek out Cephalo'Di and the Salterri, and are available if anyone else wishes to speak with Praeclarus.

Quinton: Will you allow a Belua in the Boxing Match?

PepperP.

2015-06-21, 03:13 PM

Foreign Affairs Ambassador Semelea headed off to find the Caravan Masters in order to negotiate the trades and to inquire about this mysterious artifact, Ever faithful Henlief walked beside her instead of his usual two feet behind. Away from the eyes of the Royal family he reached down to hold her hand as they strolled through the chaotic bazaar towards the merchant tents.

Alynda followed her family through the boisterous festival grounds, several merchants hawking their wares loudly as they passed, extolling the goods dubious virtues. Even at twelve, Alynda knew better than to believe anything that seemed it was too good to be true. This whole festival made her uneasy and she hung back as she was overwhelmed with the noise and the smells of exotic food and sundry. A glint of precious metal caught her eye and she stopped at a booth to admire a golden moon pendant dangling from a chain. The old merchant lady smiled at her toothlessly and Alynda shied away, too reserved to speak her admirations to the woman. The next booth held fresh fish of a different variety then what was caught in the Enclave, she looked at it's enlarged fins curiously for a moment before moving on. She continued like this for a while before realizing she had become separated from her family. A small pit of panic blossomed in her stomached as she turned, trying to spot one of her tall parents through the crowd. She wandered in a fear induced haze through the maze-like festival, and found herself stopped in front of a women with dark hair who stared at her as though she was expected. the sign in front of her tent read simply, "Selena the Seer."

Mellado and Meryn were concerned upon finding Alynda had gone missing, Maevys had volunteered to split from them and go looking on her own. Their eldest daughter, who at 14 had already proven herself to be a confident, capable young woman, had no qualms about wandering the festival grounds alone and her parents agreed to meet her by their stabled dragons come nightfall, in the hopes that one of them would have found Alynda by then. They parted ways, certain their future held a happy reunion.

Dracolon

2015-06-22, 04:23 AM

Emert Sha’Lure was haggling with a merchant for a painting of a castle from the 'Free Cities'. It was an amazingly detailed painting, but sadly it was not on the proper material for underwater use. He was hoping to get enough time with the painting to draw the scene in his own sketch book, then maybe he could barter for a night's board with the painting after. The merchant however would not trade him for his handful of pearls.

The old croon keep pointing down the row to what looked like a gem trader. He saw a pair of Makgrull there trading some gold to the man for metal coins, clearly these people like most surface dwellers would only except metal coins. It was such an odd practice for him despite his time among them. Approaching the pair of Makgrull he waved a hand speaking towards them.

"Hail brothers of the deep! A fine day yes?" He kept his pearls clinched in his other hand to keep them from wandering off. Besides he would need to talk to the trader for some coin.

Gengy

2015-06-22, 01:19 PM

Praeclarus and Cephalo'di

"Hail brothers of the deep! A fine day yes?" The pair of Makgrull that were hailed by Emert Sha’Lure were old. The male was a warrior with a deep scar upon his chest. He leaned heavily on his spear, and said nothing, just nodded in reply.

The female, however, with her scarred wrist, seemed to light up when someone said hello to them. Finishing her haggling for coins, and hung upon one arm of her husband, the lady turned with a bright smile on her face. "Ah, our mates from Cephalo'di! Well met to ye. A fine day indeed. I'm actually quite pleased that I've run into ye. This should have been little G'gjin's job; T'chep certainly wouldn't have stood fer anything less than doing it himself, but since I'm here, and ye be here, I might as well mention it."

The wrinkles under her eyes holding nothing to the candle of energy lit within them, the female Makgrull bowed as low as . "My name is Praemonstrator T'lly. This is me mate, Praestes K'vfin. Don't mind him. He doesn't talk much. That's why I like him."

K'vfin rolled his eyes skyward, and seemed to be muttering a long suffering prayer. Though there was a small smile upon his dolphin-like lips.

"Anyways... I feel I must be apologizing to ye and yours on behalf of me and mine. Someone - and I shall not say whom, for it does not bode well to speak ill of the dearly departed T'chep - made a book keeping error in their old age. We're correcting it, but in the meantime, the promised shipments of Lignum Aqua are delayed. Ye have our deepest regrets." The accent was strange, and hard to place. Surface dwellers whom had been around when the Makgrull showed up would recognize it as the curious pirate-like trade dialect that those of Praeclarus learned from. T'lly, it would seem, still hung on to it after many years.

zabbarot

2015-06-22, 02:01 PM

It didn't take long for one worried official to raise a stink back at home, and it took less time for the mahakimu to turn out to address the problem, or at least sort out what the problem actually was. A carnival in the jungle was all fair and legal, regardless of if they had requested a permit. After all this far north of the capital was officially outside the city's jurisdiction, so there were no taxes to be payed or permits required. There were issues of safety and clean up to consider, but no reason to presume that was a problem as of yet. However, the trade goods the official had reported seeing did raise serious questions.

Hakimu Nuala Crui kept an eye open as she made her way through the carnival to find the Caravan Master. 'Heavy set with a thick mustache' wasn't much of a description to work with, but hopefully his redcoat would make him easy to find. The mahakimu for their part stood out quite well in their saffron and dark orange robes.

Soon enough they found who they could only assume was the Caravan master.

"Excuse me, sir. We're looking for the leader of this caravan. There is a possible issue with your wares that needs to be discussed. While there is no harm in gathering for merriment, several of your trade goods do raise concerns. We would appreciate if you could come with us briefly and help us to alleviate them." Hakimu Crui spoke in a calm, friendly tone. She smiled politely even, though it failed to completely discount that she and the other mahakimu were armed according to their station as peace keepers.

For brevity I'm assuming he's not difficult to find >.>

lt_murgen

2015-06-23, 07:11 AM

FATS
"You can taste the age defying tonic taking effect, strengthening your mind and body with the very first sip and with weekly treatments you too can stave off old age from claiming your life. You there!" the man pointed to Darryl emphatically, "Freshly arrived and doubting perhaps my sincerity. Come up here and taste this fabulous drink and tell the crowd of the wonders it fills you with!"

Darryl was always up for a challenge, so he climbed up and took the offered drink. "Though life is now pleasant and sweet to the sense, we'll be damnably mouldy a hundred years hence." He shouted the old pirate toast and drank it down

[Aedilred- the Runaways]
Elise di Tumberink tracked the star-crossed lovers down in a quiet tent/tavern on the edges of the festival. Setting a fresh pair of drinks before them, she simply stated, "You two must be thirsty from all of our travelling."

Aedilred

2015-06-24, 09:30 PM

[Aedilred- the Runaways]
Elise di Tumberink tracked the star-crossed lovers down in a quiet tent/tavern on the edges of the festival. Setting a fresh pair of drinks before them, she simply stated, "You two must be thirsty from all of our travelling."

Rayne gratefully accepted the drink, while Ameryn smiled and nodded absently.

"We have not done too badly all things considered," Rayne said, "but your concern is appreciated all the same, as is the drink."

Dracolon

2015-06-25, 01:21 AM

Praeclarus and Cephalo'di

"Anyways... I feel I must be apologizing to ye and yours on behalf of me and mine. Someone - and I shall not say whom, for it does not bode well to speak ill of the dearly departed T'chep - made a book keeping error in their old age. We're correcting it, but in the meantime, the promised shipments of Lignum Aqua are delayed. Ye have our deepest regrets." The accent was strange, and hard to place. Surface dwellers whom had been around when the Makgrull showed up would recognize it as the curious pirate-like trade dialect that those of Praeclarus learned from. T'lly, it would seem, still hung on to it after many years.

Praeclarus and Cephalo'di

Emert nodded slowly at the conclusion of her words, "My father had been wondering about that. He has been working with Mira Thel'sor on a new contract. But our requests for more Lignum Aqua have been slow. Hopefully the error can be corrected soon, in the mean time I believe the Senate has be shipping any spare they have to our region which has helped some."

"I had enough to start working on my task. I have been observing surface dweller construction for my father and the rest of our stone masons guild. I will gladly include a letter to the Hig... Governor with my next report about the situation. " He indicated towards the merchant and the tents around them, ”What brings you to such a colorful and exciting event.”

lt_murgen

2015-06-25, 08:40 AM

Rayne gratefully accepted the drink, while Ameryn smiled and nodded absently.

"We have not done too badly all things considered," Rayne said, "but your concern is appreciated all the same, as is the drink."

"Still, it must be tiring, on the move all the time. Have you given any thought to settling down somewhere?" Elise asked neutrally. "There are many quite, out of the way places for a young couple to settle."

Trade updates
The traders of the Seaborne Confederation are willing to trade for any of the available resources of the two-heeled travellers. In addition, the representatives of FATS are quire interested in longer, more permanent arrangements for moving goods and the travellers as well.

1 Stack of Geras Fruit (& Geras Fruit elixir technology!) – for ale vera
1 Stack of Cattle (& Advanced Animal Husbandry technology!) – for pigs
1 Stack of Chocolate (& Salterri Cuisine technology!) for tropical fruit
1 Stack of Seeds of Plenty (& Advanced Agriculture technology!) for kelp-olive oil
1 Stack of Hai Vyuma (& Hai Vyuma Bending technology!) – for adamantium
1 Stack of Gemstones (& Central Banking technology!) for gemstones (both sides increase variety and availability!
1 stack of Livefire (& Tzaltec Fire technology!) – for kyright mushrooms

Gengy

2015-06-25, 08:58 AM

Praeclarus and Cephalo'di

Emert nodded slowly at the conclusion of her words, "My father had been wondering about that. He has been working with Mira Thel'sor on a new contract. But our requests for more Lignum Aqua have been slow. Hopefully the error can be corrected soon, in the mean time I believe the Senate has be shipping any spare they have to our region which has helped some."

"I had enough to start working on my task. I have been observing surface dweller construction for my father and the rest of our stone masons guild. I will gladly include a letter to the Hig... Governor with my next report about the situation. " He indicated towards the merchant and the tents around them, ”What brings you to such a colorful and exciting event.”

"Oh, me and K'vfin are treating this as a last time out. We're getting old, ye know. Non-Makgrull may not be able to tell as much; I understand that we don't age physically like surface dwellers are used to, aye?" T'lly grinned conspiratorially, and continued, "And Rex Fozik, the young punk, wants an experienced negotiator to go to the capital of Waedyr. Someone from Praeclarus, not from Myrwik. He's hoping that that wonderful, experienced, and might I mention good looking negotiator will be able to talk to the Pontiff Emperor and work out peaceful existence. The Rex be sending me and mine, and while I'm good... even this is gonna be challenging ta me."

"Ye'll do me a favor, won't ye? Talk to yer... Governor, and let him know that Praeclarus will honor PADL. If there be a breakdown in communications, it won't be from us."

SamBurke

2015-06-25, 03:25 PM

Guilder arrives, and immediately sets to the trading. Members of the De Luca clan peddle technology, while Caspian Holding's superior market skill has found them contracts for international employment and shipping. Overall, they seem unphased by the wonders, and far more interested in the workings behind the curtain...

Caspian Holdings Resources: Wood, Athletes, Nitrates/(Blackpowder+Arquebus Tech available),

De Luca Investments Resources: Harpy Mercenaries/(Aerial Harnesses Tech), All Guilderene Techs, Dinosaurs (Dino Tech available)

Seeking: Animal Husbandry, Salterri Cuisine, Central Banking.

Entering Wesley Tumberink in the boxing match.

QuintonBeck

2015-06-25, 10:55 PM

The witches ignore their newly found stalker for the moment as they maneuver about the tents to reach the "witch's" tent.

The scraggly coven arrives to the presence of what appears to be a line. Praclaerus, Cephalo'Di, and a member of the Isles delegation all wait outside the tent.

G'gjin and the Seer

Coins. Of course. G'gjin sighed. T'chep would have had some prepared. G'gjin had much to learn still. He wondered if his deceased mentor had ever had a moment of unprepared concern; if T'chep had, G'gjin certainly couldn't remember it. G'gjin made a short walk around stalls, and found a gemstone trader. With haggling skills that G'gjin wasn't confident in - but honestly, would have impressed a few people - he talked the trader into exchanging two small gold ingots from the Orator's own collection into a considerable amount of coinage.

Returning to Salena's tent a few moments later, G'gjin walked inside. He laid the coins down on the table in front of him. All told, there were probably 10 Ignos and 3 Fedha. If he were being honest, G'gjin had no clue if this were enough or overpriced, but he smiled an easy Makgrull grin, and said, "Whatever this gets me, oh Seer. I am two things in one. I am Makgrull. So I am curious, and I am generous."

Selena's eyes shined as she looked over the coinage before looking back to G'gjin. She took his hands carefully, turning them over so his palms were up and holding them by the wrist. She closed her eyes and G'gjin thought he smelled the faint tingling he had learned from practitioners of Radurja in Praeclarus to be Osuro. It was a different smell as a smoke than diffused in water but similar enough to identify.

"You speak for your people but in doing so means little speaking of yourself. You enjoy it but wish that you worked alongside another than alone. I see a hope in your future, but-" Selena's fingers gripped the Makgrull's wrists tightly as her face grew dark and troubled, "A cloud approaches. Stormy and black but filled with lightning, like an erlstorm. It's threatens to swallow you up, and another, so many others..."

Before she could continue the flap to her tent was thrown open and a gaunt man flanked by armed men stood beside him.

"Arrest her, capture the sea creature. Emperor's orders,"

the men moved in quickly with weapons drawn.

Outside the Tent - Praeclarus, Coven, Cephalo'Di and Isles

A bevy of carnival workers suddenly surrounded the small clearing that held Selena's tent though they appeared to be aimless, the trained eyes of the more tactical delegations noticed their distribution and the weapons they barely concealed beneath their bright clothing. Things were still for a moment as tension rose then suddenly the Carnival workers attacked, drawing weapons and trying to grab those outside the line to take prisoner or kill if they proved too much trouble. The Springling was an easy target for a prisoner, the Praeclar and Coven representatives were deemed a threat while a group of carnival thugs tried to assess the group from Cephalo'Di.

It didn't take long for one worried official to raise a stink back at home, and it took less time for the mahakimu to turn out to address the problem, or at least sort out what the problem actually was. A carnival in the jungle was all fair and legal, regardless of if they had requested a permit. After all this far north of the capital was officially outside the city's jurisdiction, so there were no taxes to be payed or permits required. There were issues of safety and clean up to consider, but no reason to presume that was a problem as of yet. However, the trade goods the official had reported seeing did raise serious questions.

Hakimu Nuala Crui kept an eye open as she made her way through the carnival to find the Caravan Master. 'Heavy set with a thick mustache' wasn't much of a description to work with, but hopefully his redcoat would make him easy to find. The mahakimu for their part stood out quite well in their saffron and dark orange robes.

Soon enough they found who they could only assume was the Caravan master.

"Excuse me, sir. We're looking for the leader of this caravan. There is a possible issue with your wares that needs to be discussed. While there is no harm in gathering for merriment, several of your trade goods do raise concerns. We would appreciate if you could come with us briefly and help us to alleviate them." Hakimu Crui spoke in a calm, friendly tone. She smiled politely even, though it failed to completely discount that she and the other mahakimu were armed according to their station as peace keepers.

For brevity I'm assuming he's not difficult to find >.>

"Well then you have found him! Hello good men and women of the local guard! While I am eager to answer your questions I am afraid I cannot leave my caravan unattended. I'm sure any questions you have I can answer here!" the Caravan Master smiled broadly.

Boxing

The Boxing tournament leads to the surprising victory of Wesley Tumberink given the title "the Monk" as a ring name to help draw a crowd. For his victory the Guilderene is granted a crate of "Traveler's Tonic" a viscous silver-grey liquid promised to strengthen and enhance the life of the user. A thin man of western origin presents himself to the former Doge and pledges to join Wesley and serve as his primary producer of the Tonic once the crate has been emptied.

zabbarot

2015-06-26, 09:11 AM

"Well then you have found him! Hello good men and women of the local guard! While I am eager to answer your questions I am afraid I cannot leave my caravan unattended. I'm sure any questions you have I can answer here!" the Caravan Master smiled broadly.

Hakimu Crui smiled genuinely. It was always nice when people wanted to cooperate. "That is fine. Let me get to the point then, we are primarily concerned with the source of your trade goods. We would like to see any records you have on where they were acquired and also, in the case of live fire and hai vyuma, inspect their storage containers to be sure they meet our safety standards. Additionally we would strongly request that you do not trade live fire here. The substance is dangerous and considered contraband. We are willing to let you leave with it, but any attempt to trade it on UJR soil will be a breach of our laws."

Gengy

2015-06-26, 10:57 AM

Selena's eyes shined as she looked over the coinage before looking back to G'gjin. She took his hands carefully, turning them over so his palms were up and holding them by the wrist. She closed her eyes and G'gjin thought he smelled the faint tingling he had learned from practitioners of Radurja in Praeclarus to be Osuro. It was a different smell as a smoke than diffused in water but similar enough to identify.

"You speak for your people but in doing so means little speaking of yourself. You enjoy it but wish that you worked alongside another than alone. I see a hope in your future, but-" Selena's fingers gripped the Makgrull's wrists tightly as her face grew dark and troubled, "A cloud approaches. Stormy and black but filled with lightning, like an erlstorm. It's threatens to swallow you up, and another, so many others..."

Before she could continue the flap to her tent was thrown open and a gaunt man flanked by armed men stood beside him.

"Arrest her, capture the sea creature. Emperor's orders,"

the men moved in quickly with weapons drawn.

Outside the Tent - Praeclarus, Coven, Cephalo'Di and Isles

A bevy of carnival workers suddenly surrounded the small clearing that held Selena's tent though they appeared to be aimless, the trained eyes of the more tactical delegations noticed their distribution and the weapons they barely concealed beneath their bright clothing. Things were still for a moment as tension rose then suddenly the Carnival workers attacked, drawing weapons and trying to grab those outside the line to take prisoner or kill if they proved too much trouble. The Springling was an easy target for a prisoner, the Praeclar and Coven representatives were deemed a threat while a group of carnival thugs tried to assess the group from Cephalo'Di.

Custos was confused as to why the sky walkers were calling him Belua the Behemoth. That was not his name. He was going to protest, but there were other strange names as well. So he comprehended that it was what the Makgrull called pageantry. Lies, for the sake of amusement. It still bothered Custos, but he was here for the fighting.

And the fighting was, in it self, a form of amusement. The rules were not entirely clear as to how a Belua should participate. One needed to 'Box' by thrusting both forearms towards the opponents' faces. One successfully defeated one's opponent once one has hit their face enough times that they no longer desire to rise back up and be hit more. It was fairly straight forward to Custos. It was not his problem that his face could be lifted some twenty feet into the air.

Alas, that was not how the sky walkers felt it should be. They allowed participation, mostly because many of them were excited to see him fight in the ridiculous red blankets that they wrapped around his forearms; Custos approved of this, as he wouldn't want his claws to kill anyone in a friendly competition. He was perplexed as to why they added additional blankets into the wrapping to make what they called a 'fist' shape, but he assumed it was more pageantry, and let it slide. In addition to the safety precautions, they also - politely and respectfully, Custos noted and appreciated - requested that he lay his head down to a level where it could be hit by other competitors. He was allowed to move it from side to side, but the 'Boxing' people informed him that it would be highly unfair and not amusing to those watching if he reared at his full height. Custos considered this, and decided it was a reasonable request.

After all, he allowed that if anyone could actually reach his face to hit it, even at a lower level, they deserved to win. The little 'Boxing Ring' was taken up by Custos's large form entirely, so during his fights, they had to remove one of the three sides of the ring, and allowed him to lay down so that his 'fists' and his lowered head were in the ring, and not much else.

This worked to Custos's advantage. There was reduced maneuverability for his opponents. The one they were calling "Laughing Leeroy" rushed straight in, but ran right into a mighty padded fist and was blown back down. He did not rise. Custos saw him last staggering away, helped by some other sky walkers, and they were feeding him some form of feathered fowl as consolation.

Then came the Deadwood fellow. Custos did not remember much of that fight, because he had an itch in his hindquarters as soon as the bell rung. Custos moved both padded fore-arms forward, so that he could lean on them and scratch the itch with his back leg. When the offended scale on the left side of his underbelly was sated, Custos looked down to see that the Deadwood fellow was under one of his 'gloves'. He removed it cautiously, and was declared winner when the poor fellow did not rise after a man in a striped shirt counted to ten. Custos lost track, as the itch returned. He waited till he was declared winner, before seeing to it with his teeth and tongue, and felt much better for it.

After which came fights that Custos appreciated. The crowd seemed to appreciate them too. They were beginning to chant "Behemoth" as he re-positioned himself into the ring. Yet, some were also saying 'Double G' over and over again. The Bigg person that fought him next wasn't that big, to Custos... but the man could move around quite well. Custos was forced to block several punches with his left forearm, before he finally became aggravated and raised his right forearm rather high up and slammed down on to the ring with it. Custos was rather surprised that the Ring did not break; it only cracked. Still, the Bigg person seemed to be impressed by this, as Custos's opponent was distracted long enough to be hit in the head with his left 'fist'. Double G did not rise.

Last came Custos's major annoyance. The one they called 'The Monk'. Custos was not what the Makgrull called 'political'. He was not a Belua Council member, seeking to rule or make laws. Custos was a guardian. He once had had a small tribe of Makgrull that saw to his needs, but they were... they were no more. It made Custos upset to recall them. He didn't dwell on it. Still, for not being political, Custos knew that this Monk before him was no Monk, but a person whom was once a political creature and now seemed to be turned warrior. Custos afforded him all due respect by throwing several rapid punches with both 'gloves' that covered the entirety of the ring.

The Monk that was not a Monk dodged them all. The person commenting on the fight - an announcer, Custos was told - said that the Monk managed to 'doge' all of the punches, and the crowd seemed to find this funny. Custos did not. He chose to slam the stage once more, like he had done with Double G. Alas, the Monk was not distracted, and saw this, instead, as an opportunity. With one forearm raised high, and the other on the ground to balance, the Monk did something that Custos did not expect; the little sky walker ducked into the punch, and Custos was momentarily concerned that he had crushed the little man.

But then Custos's chin itched. It wasn't like the itch from before. It was an itch that repeated, like a heart beat. Custos looked down, and saw that the Monk that was not a Monk was hitting him. Repeatedly. Right in the jaw. It was... rather embarrassing, actually.

Custos let out a breath of air from his nostrils, knocking the fellow onto the ground. He then looked at the man in the stripped white and black shirt, and said, quite clearly before turning and leaving, "I lose. The little Monk wins."

The crowd cheered as Custos left. Still, Cutsos's pride was hurt more then his scales. He kept quiet and ruminated on the fights while the little creatures around him removed the blankets that had made his 'fists'. He was trying to figure out if there was a way he could try again, or at least, try again in a match against some more his own size and in a ring that fit, when he heard the clicks and squeaks that were clearly Makgrull.

::HELP! DANGER! HURT! PAIN!::

Custos didn't need to hear more. He was bounding towards the sounds, as quick as he could.

------------------------------------------------

G'gjin found the Seer holding his palms and speaking - reading him, he supposed - rather interesting. He momentarily wondered if the whole entrance from the armed men was part of the show; after all, G'gjin did pay for whatever he could get. That notion was quickly dismissed as the armed humans walked towards him and the Seer, and they did not look friendly. G'gjin gripped his staff of office - T'chep's gold tipped walking stick - and moved towards Selena.

"Gentlemen, I do not know what you've heard about me or the Seer, and this does seem like it's entirely an internal matter," G'gjin was babbling. T'chep had said G'gjin did that when he got nervous, but the current Chief Orator had never lost the habit, "however, I've paid for a considerable amount of entertainment and mystery from this fine lady, and she was just getting the good part. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist that you let her finish, or I'll be forced to take matter into my own hands."

G'gjin sincerely hoped that these humans were unfamiliar with Makgrull physiology, or they would be able to see just how scared and nervous the Chief Orator was by the sweat dripping from his ankles and the way his fins were wiggling. Still, he was prepared to fight them off, if only because he was sure that that was what T'chep would have done, no matter how old the previous Orator had been.

What G'gjin had not expected was the clicks and squeaks from outside. Many voices of Makgrull blended together as they all sent out noises of distress.

::HELP! DANGER! HURT! PAIN!::

Without really thinking about it, G'gjin grabbed Selena by the arm, and bull-rushed the men in front of him, Orator's Staff smacking two men down onto the ground and successfully getting both G'gjin and the Seer outside. Where they were surrounded. By more men. Who were attacking Makgrull. G'gjin saw several of his Orators - who had just been wandering the faire - on the ground, with bruises. One or two were bleeding from cuts. There was a Praestes with a spear fighting off a few men, but he was badly outnumbered. A few elderly looking women were also in the fray, though what they were doing was beyond G'gjin, and he didn't have time to be curious. Still holding onto Selena, he beat off any men that approached them. The gold-tipped staff was heavy, and T'chep had used it to beat sense into more then one foolish apprentice.

T'chep had never had to ward off human after human with it, though, and the beatings were not lethal or serious. G'gjin was regretting not having his own Praestes with him, or taking lessons in self defense. His wild swinging was unpredictable, but unskilled. The human men were starting to surround him and Selena, and there was very little that G'gjin could do. He began to noticeably shake, he was so scared.

He wasn't the only one shaking. Selena was too. And her tent. And the men. And the whole ground. Over, and over, and over. It was like some great seaquake, except it was accompanied by a loud thudding noise that was getting closer and closer and the sounds became louder, and with a THUD of finality, Custos the Belua was there.

Custos surveyed the scene, and his claws scraped the ground, leaving ruts in the earth. "Hello, little human men. You are not hurting my Makgrull friends, are you? Because, I am sorry to say, the gloves are off."

A reminder that Belua are some 40 feet long, and roughly 10 feet tall. Custos looks like this:

http://forums.euw.leagueoflegends.com/board/attachment.php?attachmentid=4928

QB, FYI, Custos can be distracted, and is concerned more for the lives of Makgrull then anything else. I hope that having the Belua show doesn't throw any plans awry too much.

PepperP.

2015-06-26, 05:16 PM

Henlief could see Semelea chuckling on the sidelines as they announced him as "Deadwood". He entered the ring sheepishly, wondering where in the world that nickname had come from. His opponent, Jerry "The Corpse" McGhoulberry was announced and Henlief pulled his thoughts back to the fight, sneering at his opponent intimidatingly who returned in kind until they were shouting insults as to the virtue of the other's mothers into each other's faces. The ref pushed the two men apart and announced the start of the match. They quickly engaged in pummeling each other viciously, to the delight of the crowd who cheered uproariously, all but Semelea who peered at the ring through the fingers that covered her face. Henlief managed to dodge a slow roundhouse and counter with a quick jab of his own, knocking off the shades his opponent wore over his eyes. The younger man stumbled and Henlief descended upon him, knocking him out to the screams of the crowd, Semelea joining this time as his hands were raised in victory.

Henlief had a chance to rest in between bouts which he was grateful for, he was not a young Spriggan anymore and already his muscles ached from the abuse of his first opponent. At length his name (Deadwood) was called for his second match. He quickly stretched and jogged up to and into the ring. The set up of the second match gave him pause, it seemed that most of the ring was taken up by a great blue wall, odd. He waited for his opponent to be announced but did not hear anything other than the crowd hooting in what seemed hilarity. Confused, he looked for Semelea in the crowd, but his vision was obscured by the great blue wall. He heard the starting bell and turned around the ring in puzzlement until a movement from high above him caught his eye, he managed a startled "huh?" as he realized the great blue wall was his opponent and was swiftly flattened by an errant fist. He awoke to Semelea cradling his aching head outside the ring. They grinned ruefully at each other before she leaned over to kiss his bruised lips.

Sundown had come with no sign of Alynda. Maevys, Mellado and Meryn met at the stables on the far outskirts of the festival as the sun sank into the west, the unbridled optimism of a happy reunion quickly turning to unease which sat like a cold stone in their stomachs. Maevys leaned against Galzra and scratched her scaly chin, brow furrowed as the dragon purred contentedly. The three talked over their individual routes, certain that they had left no proverbial stone unturned. They stood debating between another search and alerting the Aloren authorities to the child's disappearance before realizing with considerable consternation that none of them had seen an official Aloren authority present at the festival.

There was a line in front of the Seer's tent. Alynda wasn't sure what a Seer was, but maybe she could offer Alynda some information on how to find her family. She waited in the back of the line patiently and gazed furtively at the various strange peoples, many examples of races she had never before encountered. Her childhood curiosity overcoming her, she gazed openly at many of them as they spoke to each other in indecipherable clicks and clacks. In her peripheral vision she saw the advancement of several robed festival goers surround the clearing Selena's tent was in. She hesitated, unsure of what was happening until one of them grabbed her arm and pulled her under their robe, hand over her mouth to stifle her screams as she struggled futilely while being dragged away.

Dracolon

2015-06-27, 03:05 PM

Emert had been talking with the elderly pair of Makgrull while he traded his pearls, conducted his trade for the painting, and now was walking back to some 'seer?' with the pair to collect their leader. He was glad for the assistance the female had given him with haggling, apparently the gem merchant had tried to severely undervalue his handful of shining orbs.

He was watching the mix of people waiting in line when the commotion broke out. The men and women that attacked looked more like a slave revolt then a proper army, but they quickly made it clear who they were out to attack and who they were out to kidnap.

Emert was not a fighter or a warrior, nor was he traveling with any. But he did have was some training for when they used to own slaves on how to play the part of hostage. Sliding a short thick branch into the folds of his tentacles to hide it he gestured surrender to the crowd of armed men. No point in losing his life like this, he would have to wait for their number to fall before making his move.

They seemed happy to oblige shoving him at the point of some weapon or another he was quickly lead from the ring of combat.

Being pushed through the crowd towards some unknown destination he saw what looked to be a pair of small legs kicking out from the robe of the figure in front of him. The shoes looked like those of the small girl that had been enthralled by his glowing tentacles in line earlier. He gripped the branch tighter with his sucker pods keeping it hidden and hoping he would get the chance to escape.

But then again he was not a warrior, he was an artist.

Aedilred

2015-06-28, 04:46 AM

"Still, it must be tiring, on the move all the time. Have you given any thought to settling down somewhere?" Elise asked neutrally. "There are many quite, out of the way places for a young couple to settle."

"We have given it thought," Ameryn said, with a pointed look at Rayne, "but my husband is afraid that if we stay too long in one place my family will soon learn we are there, and fears my brother will hunt him down and kill him."

"Prince Alfrett grew up among the Kell," Rayne interjected, speaking as much to explain to Elise as to reply to Ameryn (this seemed to be an argument they had had before) "and I saw him slay a hydra unarmed. I have heard he has issued a challenge to me over this business with Ameryn, and if there is even a grain of truth to that I don't think it unreasonable to want to stay as far out of his way as possible."