Rystil Arden
First Post
"I suppose we need not move on...just yet. Very well, you and yours may share our fire for the night. Do you have your own tent?"
Tempest Fugit
Rystil Arden
First Post
"I see. But you do have sufficient shelter to cover your own, no? Or else I am not sure how you would have survived that last sandstorm..."
Rystil Arden
First Post
"Very well then. I am sure that by the time you have come this far, you have worked out some way that you wish to rest amongst yourselves. I am sure that the younger among us will look forward to hearing your...stories."
*Some of the younger folk at the oasis do indeed seem intrigued by the prospect of hearing Nurlan tell tales. That said, even the youngest of the caravan are in their late teens and early twenties, so their interest is more muted than a child's would be.*
*Some of the younger folk at the oasis do indeed seem intrigued by the prospect of hearing Nurlan tell tales. That said, even the youngest of the caravan are in their late teens and early twenties, so their interest is more muted than a child's would be.*
Story? It's a performance of song that he promised -- his specialty. Of course, there's always a little banter between songs, but the meat of his performance is always music.
As those interested in hearing his songs gather, Nurlan pulls out the purple cloak he likes to wear when on a stage of sorts. He begins with the self-introductory song the others had heard him sing in the Red Dragon Inn or at Tenebrynn's bash. Then he says a little to introduce the next number:
"This song comes from the Carduthian lands, across the Stonespike Mountains, but it is of a kind I have encountered in many places. Wherever walking dead have been seen, legends and rumours abound of secret cults that has animated them for ritual purposes. This song was taught to me by two boys, one who claimed such a sect was once active in his grandfather's day, the other who was confident that it still survives, somewhere, although he had never encountered it, and naturally hoped he never would."
The song itself has a slightly sinister tone:
...Strike the cymbals, light the flame
Burn the spices, chant the name
When is written the high priest's chalk
The dead once more will rise and walk.
After that one, Nurlan merely remarks, "There are as many different types of song as there are emotions. Here's something a little different." He then concludes with a rather typical ballad of love.
The musical quality is typical for Nurlan (Perform: d20+12=23), although what he hoped to achieve right now had less to do with his vocal skill than with the topic chosen, that might get others to recount legends and rumours of this area.
As those interested in hearing his songs gather, Nurlan pulls out the purple cloak he likes to wear when on a stage of sorts. He begins with the self-introductory song the others had heard him sing in the Red Dragon Inn or at Tenebrynn's bash. Then he says a little to introduce the next number:
"This song comes from the Carduthian lands, across the Stonespike Mountains, but it is of a kind I have encountered in many places. Wherever walking dead have been seen, legends and rumours abound of secret cults that has animated them for ritual purposes. This song was taught to me by two boys, one who claimed such a sect was once active in his grandfather's day, the other who was confident that it still survives, somewhere, although he had never encountered it, and naturally hoped he never would."
The song itself has a slightly sinister tone:
...Strike the cymbals, light the flame
Burn the spices, chant the name
When is written the high priest's chalk
The dead once more will rise and walk.
After that one, Nurlan merely remarks, "There are as many different types of song as there are emotions. Here's something a little different." He then concludes with a rather typical ballad of love.
The musical quality is typical for Nurlan (Perform: d20+12=23), although what he hoped to achieve right now had less to do with his vocal skill than with the topic chosen, that might get others to recount legends and rumours of this area.
Rystil Arden
First Post
*The nomads listen to the songs relatively impassively, though some of the younger ones are quite intent and focused as they listen. Still, they do not seem frightened by the sinister song, nor particularly moved by the love song.*
*One of the nomads looks at Nurlan after he finishes.*
"It would seem that you wish to hear a story of this place?...Perhaps it's name...There is a tale of a beautiful Djinni woman who fell in love with a mortal man of the desert. Their romance was...a beautiful thing, at first. She disguised herself as a mortal woman, and they were to be married. But on their wedding night, atop a high tor overlooking a sweeping sunset...she revealed herself to him in full, and he was torn apart in the winds..."
"They say her grief bound her to this place...that rock formation is known for unusually high rainfall, the tears of that tragic lady of the air...At least, so they say."
*One of the nomads looks at Nurlan after he finishes.*
"It would seem that you wish to hear a story of this place?...Perhaps it's name...There is a tale of a beautiful Djinni woman who fell in love with a mortal man of the desert. Their romance was...a beautiful thing, at first. She disguised herself as a mortal woman, and they were to be married. But on their wedding night, atop a high tor overlooking a sweeping sunset...she revealed herself to him in full, and he was torn apart in the winds..."
"They say her grief bound her to this place...that rock formation is known for unusually high rainfall, the tears of that tragic lady of the air...At least, so they say."
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