Note to be Opened

Miraci Ruhn · Post by **Miraci Ruhn** » Sun Jun 19, 2005 6:36 pm

A tied note lands in the middle of Greenbriar. It seems to be water-proof and is tied with a shiny green string. It waits for one to open it.

Edit: Anyone may RP along. Not intended for certain players only.

Furbin Peacock · Post by **Furbin Peacock** » Sun Jun 19, 2005 11:56 pm

A small, chubby halfling walks over to the note. "Looks like it's important" he grins, picking it up and untying it... He looks about 10 years old and has mischief in his eyes.

Miraci Ruhn · Post by **Miraci Ruhn** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 12:20 am

(edited)

The letter says

A Master of Chronicles is to be sent to your island by the order of the High Counsel of the Daidric Mainlands. Be prepared.

Furbin Peacock · Post by **Furbin Peacock** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 1:00 am

The halfling reads the note and shrugs, his features unconcerned. He tosses the parchment back onto the grass and sits in the shade, munching on an apple.

Shlinks · Post by **Shlinks** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 3:05 am

Shlink's small, shiny black eyes catch the flurried ruffle of something bright against the dry grass in the corner of his vision. He sticks his snout towards one of the short scale-less ones with a sniff, and eagerly bounds over. Barking merrily, he leaps around the halfling with a long reptilian tail wagging left and right.
In mid-circle around the halfling, the lizard Shlinks steps on something with his hind claw that gives a muffled crunch. He glances behind in some surprise, and notices the off-white colored thing under his claw.

Shlinks sniffs it.

Shlinks sniffs it again.

It seems to contain many a new scent to him.

He paws at his snout and gives a slight huff of a sneeze as the ribbon objects to being sniffed by shooting halfway up the lizard's nose.

As is natural, Shlinks begins chewing on it playfully. It has many new flavors as well. Eventually, Shlinks bores of the crinkled, slightly crunchy and abandons it on some street cobblestones with the remaining message of--

A master ... gets to be sent to your/...... high counsel. Be prep....

Shlinks trots away to gnaw on a broken tree branch in order to get some bits of oiled parchment out of his reptilian canines.

Pofey Peacock · Post by **Pofey Peacock** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 7:58 am

Walks along the roads of Greenbriar, his walking cane tapping on the cobblestones. AS he walks along the grass, he sees the remains of paper. Quickly wobbling over, he picks up the paper, and tries to read it.

"A master ... gets to be sent to your/...... high counsel. Be prep.... "

He ponders for a slight moment, slides the note into his pocket, and walks over to the home of Habblesham Guidenite. He grumbles a little, not entirely liking the sound of this.

"Always the Guidenites. I wonder what they have done now..."

Player · Post by **Player** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 8:38 am

After several knocks, the door bursts open, and in the doorway stands a stout, middle-aged halfling in bright yellow clothes, a slice of cake is in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

He quickly swallows the cake that's in his mouth and says, "Hi ho, Pofems! What's this about, then?"

Pulling back from the door, he gestures with his teacup for Pofey to come in, knowing full well that this is no routine visit. Pofey surely isn't just looking for company.

Pofey Peacock · Post by **Pofey Peacock** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 8:46 am

Pofey shakes his head, and quickly walks inside of the house. He turns to look at Habblesham with a rather worried look.

" Habbly, I have no idea what you have done now, but what does this have to mean?!"

He shows the halfling the message. He seems to be infuriated.

"You always have to stir up things with such useless things. Already when you were little. And if your nephew is behind this, I will give him days of farming work! Be warned!"

Player · Post by **Player** » Mon Jun 20, 2005 8:58 am

"Now, now, Pofems. No reason to get all excited. I don't rightly know what you're speaking of here. Let's bring this to the kitchen table and perhaps we can come to some conclusion or another, perhaps."

A few minutes later they are in the kitchen, where tea and cake is served, or at least Pofey got tea; hiding in Habblesham's teacup is warm beer--and he was going to need plenty of it before he was able to get Pofey off his case.

Habblesham scratches his head as he reads the message once again. It just didn't make any sense, but telling Pofey that wouldn't do him any good; the heads of the Peacock family are made of a stronger metal than any armor--nothing gets in, and very little gets out.

Taking one last large gulp from the warm beer disguised as tea, Habblesham finally speaks, "Now hear me out, Pofems. We didn't cause none of this trouble, right? This letter doesn't even make any sense to me, at'all, but says here somethin' about high council. Mayhaps they mean the higher ups, isn't that the likes of Brendan Mason and Crosis, right? Mayhaps you should speak to them.'

Miraci Ruhn · Post by **Miraci Ruhn** » Tue Jun 21, 2005 12:32 am

Two months before:

Vanimedle walks through the courts to the post where he is to make his statement...

The steward of The Green Courts sits slowly down in his chair... his robe is green and lined with golden trim. He looks down at a book on an elegant table in front of him...

"Let us begin the session... Now, Master Vanimedle, you are here because you have made a suggestion to the Minor Judges that is said to have some... importance... Please, in detail, give us this information or... idea of yours."

"Yes, my Lord. It has been known that there are outer island not completely connected yet with the Daidric Mainlands. Lately, the Guntars have been depleting our military rescources rather... drastically. They conduct surprise raids that seem to come from nowhere. We believe that the key to these raids is strongholds on some of these unmapped, outlying islands. We have now gotten news carried from sailors, which we have in protective custody, of a particularly hospitable island which we may, as a people, have interest in settling on."

"You... believe this island would give us strategic warfare advantage?"

"I do, my Lord."

"The last I knew, you were a Chronicler, Master Vanimedle, not a Commander, or even an Upper Medalist."

"You are correct, My Lord, but please take this session into consideration."

The crowd in the court goes into mumbling while the steward and guards exit the room...

((Still open to any person to add to))

Miraci Ruhn · Post by **Miraci Ruhn** » Wed Jun 22, 2005 2:01 am

A sleek ship blows in the hard winds near the island of Illarion. An elf with long almost white hair sits near the fore end with a leather-bound book in hand. He writes elegant letters quickly.

Chos the 21st, 14th Year of the 5th Age...

We make way for this island known to be in the eastern waters. The wind blows hard. More clouds blanket the areas ahead. Snow is anticipated as the temperature grows colder and areas ahead are hard to see. What kind of buisiness goes on at this island? We come nearer and nearer and very soon we will be reaching land.

Chos the 21st, 14th Year of the 5th Age...

I sit on the freezing ground full of sorrow and fear now. Our ship lies safe, but some of our crew do not. Ogres still lurk near, but have so far been driven off. Burial areas for 4 of our people are being prepared as we speak. Of the dead there is John Wilonn of humans, Meqi Bywater of humans, and Gerun Drodnic of dwarves. Gerun, Dwarven Weaponsmaster of the 5th legion died in a heroic act to save me. It seems these monsters of the isle are without much food, and are willing to make enormous sacrifices to get some. It will take time, but me and our band of militants will make our way across the island until we reach civilization.

Master Vanimedle of Chronicles walks to the Secondmaster Dwarf of Arms, now made to Weaponsmaster, who is mourning over the death of his late commander. He slowly picks up the axe of the dead Dwarf and places it firmly in the ground at the grave. Snow quickly settles onto it...