(Casual D&D II) The Fellowship of the White Dove

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk starts recounting a tale of some encounter from long ago, ignorant of whether anyone's listening or not.

"...so then I kicked him in the jaw! Wasn't that hard mind you, him bein' a dwarf his jaw was in easy reach of me boot. This didn't phase him though, he just gave off a grunt and kept comin', and I thought... well I thought the old dwarf reputation for bein' tough an' all must've been down-played somethin' shockin', after the beating I gave this guy most chaps'd be out cold. Then I realised it, he was already, and quite literally, cold. I was in such a rush at the time I didn't notice that he was actually dead, a zombie in fact, go figure..." Nurthk rambles on before taking another swig of his drink and continuing to ramble of times past.

 

[Uriel]

Doffing his cap to the two girls in the balcony, Niccolo ponders for a moment and replies'A wine is as good as anything for me, good Barkeep. I like the blood of the vine in my veins as i play, as beer or cider makes me a bit sleepy. For the ladies, I think that this should suffice...'

Adjusting the first string half-step down, Niccolo slips into the lively Dariella's Sonata, a piece written for the lost love of the great Donenetto Gempacci, the famed Dwarf fiddler from the last century.
Donenetto had been born lame, and neededcrutches to walk, though his fingers possessed a dexterity that many elves found hard to match, and a strength that allowed him to play for hours on end without rest. Dariella was human, and thus, the match was an ill-fated one, though she was blind to Donenetto's twisted form, so beautiful was his music. Alas, the Fiddler was killed by a jealous rival for Dariella's affection, murdered as he wrote the Sonata. An unfinished work, the Sonata was published posthumously by Donenetto's boon companion Alrynne Vetucci, an organist that he frequently played duets with. Darietta was the prime witness at the murder trial of the dastardly fiend, and remained single, dying alone, pining for her lost Love...

The piece runs through a haunting intro signifying the tragic reality that was the dwarf's lot, into a frenzied staccato, as he first sees his love and realizies his feelings for her. The piece takes a happy turn, as the two lovers find their Love intensifying and their World becomes a wonderous thing. Suddenly, a discordant note sounds, tri-tones showing the entrance of the evil Valmyr, jealously bringing hate and strife to the pair. The tune moves into a somber tone once more, as Donenetto realizes what Fate holds for him and ends abruptly on a high C,the last note scribed before his murder, the harmonic resounding throughout the tavern, fading even as the poor tragic dwarf's life faded so many years before.

<Perform total 25>

Wiping a tear, Niccolo sips his wine, his thoughts ruminating onthe story that had been caught up in this last work of the Violinist taken far too soon from the Mortal Coil. Smiling, he sips his wine again and winks at the pair of gnomesses before launching into a more lively and uplifting tune.

 

[DrZombie]

This is what raven looks like, kinda, but without the bulls-eye on his chest, offcourse

 

[Guilt Puppy]

The night at the bar drags on... Shavah takes to asking passerbys, ever more accusatorily, if they are or ever have been members of the Cult of Hextor, while Hiritus seems distracted with someone across the room.

(Mainly just popping in to say I'm still alive, just have limited internet access for the time being.)

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk is attracted to Shavah's aggression like a moth to flame in his current state. He hangs around her, leering at anyone whom she suspects of being involved with any cult. With a mug clenched firmly in each hand he takes a swig whenever not growling and muttering threateningly at suspected cultists in orcish.

 

[dpdx]

Fendric settles into a bathtub, and for the first time in a while, is comfortable.

[Doing the same - waiting for the game to start back up.]

 

[DrZombie]

Raven works his way through several beers, pausing only to listen to Niccolo's music, for a moment totally unaware of his surroundings as he listens, enraptured by the bittersweet voice of the violin. When the music stops he stands uo and bows, a little shakily from the alcohol. "Niccolo, me lad, well played, if I may say so. Now if you could play something a bit more cheerfull, 'cause our friends here are getting a bit edgy" as he points to Nurthk and Shavah.

"Come, Shavah, now's not the time to get moody and violent, save it for when we meet some real cultiststs. Bugger. Come, my lovely palladin, time to dance and have a good time. There'll be enough fighting and killing in the weeks to come." As he sees Nurthk starting to protest at him taking away Shavah, he laughingly pats him on the cheeck. "Don't worry, pretty boy, I'll dance with you later". With that he drags Shavah to the center of the dancefloor and starts to dance to the best of his poor abilities.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk laughs raucously at being called 'pretty boy'.

"Aww, we were havin' fun. Good practise for the real thing," Nurthk slurs, and finishes off one of his mugs.

He goes to replace the empty drink with another one, and talks groggily about times getting drunk with his friends back home.

 

[Uriel]

Niccolo laughs a bit at the admonishment, launching into a series of limmericks and jovial little ditties designed to get the folks in the bar in a better mood.

<Perform total 23>

 

[Sparky]

Oliver hobbles down the stairs with his lute case, brow furrowing in puzzlement as the others hustle back into the common room with bellows for drinks. He blinks, ragged eyebrows raised, "Youth. Feh." He makes a spitting gesture to his left. Someone with a sharp gaze might catch the merest flash of slight fond smile that gives lie to his mutterings.

He bellies up to the bar and sits, case on his knees watching the room's evening activity and the raucous play of his companions. He casts a wary eye at Shavah and Nurthk... Dangerous, those two. Wonder why the group is back... He stands, slipping off the stool neatly, knees popping and winces, limping over to Fendric.

"Why're you all back... thought you were headed out in some big hurry." He scowls, placing his lute case carefully on the half-elf's table - oddly (or perhaps not) a pool of serenity in the rowdiness.

Always on his guard in the city and especially in a common room, Oliver keeps a keen eye on the various exits and on the patrons he's marked as troublemakers. And on that shady man in the corner that's been watching the Fellowship all evening. Don't like the looks of that one... Nope. Oliver glances away from the shifty-eyed man and squints in a random direction, at wall hangings or something while Fendric marshalls an answer.

Spot: 19 (9+10)
Listen: 23 (13+10)
Perform (for any of his standing in for Niccolo): 14 (10+4)