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Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8306661" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Story VIII - The Gift</strong></p><p></p><p>It was early morning, and the light had only started to creep about the horizon. The jungle was beginning to stir, with strange calls of animals and birds alike. But from the entrance to the darkened shrine, there was a different set of sounds; the first was the sound of doumbek rhythmic drumming, and the other was the haunting sounds of whistling of Bladesong.</p><p></p><p>Inside the shrine, a pair of figures were locked in combat. Each of their weapons sung with a musical whistle as they cut through the air. Rafelor’s morningstar gave off low notes, while Arnara’s rapier sung high ones; each of their weapons a part of a duet. Rafelor chased Anara around the shrine, his morningstar’s wide arcs finding nothing but air as he tried to hit the more agile elf. When they had started, Arnara was simply faster; and he felt that he was a slow plodding turtle trying to catch an impossibly swift Al-mi’raj. But once he found his rhythm, he quickly matched Arnara’s once faster gait. His arcing swings with the morningstar were no longer wide, but now they were coming closer and closer to hitting her.</p><p></p><p>But that closer never seemed farther, as Arnara continued to avoid his swings easily. At first, he thought it was a matter of her being faster. But as they continued, he realized that she was somehow anticipating. Rolling her body so his weapons would pass over her or gracefully spinning and parrying, knocking his weapon off course. For the first and perhaps the only time, he sympathized with the Yuan-Ti’s frustration with her. She had cut her way through their nest with the most elegant form of butchery he had ever seen. And that was before she would tilt the table in their groups’ favor. Whether that meant her doubling her speed and the number of strikes she would make. Or the detonation of a ball of fire in their midst. Or even the strangely empowering moment of Rafelor being polymorphed into a savage beast crushing their opponents with his bare fists. Arnara was methodical, precise, and above all prepared for anything. To Rafelor this made her the most dangerous woman her had ever known.</p><p></p><p>But now respect had turned into frustration, as she continually avoided his blows. She danced effortlessly around Rafelor, while he panted from the exertion trying to land a blow. He then tried to taunt her, “Alright, I see what you’re trying to pull. You think just because you turned me into a giant freaking ape that I’m all ‘monkey-see monkey-do’? Well try this!” Rafelor said and reversed his spin. The heavy weapon whuffed through in the air, and almost found it mark, before Arnara deflected it with her blade.</p><p></p><p>“You have been predictable. But you understand only half the truth.” Arnara said with that maddening impish smile, which then faded to the picture of serenity she normally wore. Her movements continued to be effortless, elegant and unhurried, even as Ralefor redoubled his efforts. He focused on coming from odd angles and reverting to feints and simple short swings. He found himself getting closer and closer, but each time he thought the morningstar would connect, her rapier simply deflected it just enough to miss its mark. While the sound of metal on metal was a sign of progress, he visibly seethed in frustration as Arnara simply evaded his strikes.</p><p></p><p>It had been this way since the darkest part of the morning, when Arnara raised her hand and Imbok, 108th son of Yorb ceased his beat on the doumbek. Rafelor then leaned against the pedestal that once held one of the mysterious stone cubes that were somehow tied to the tomb they searched for. “Why…can’t…I…Fu—” Rafelor stammered as he gasped for air. Arnara then approached him and placed her hand on before Arnara lightly touched his mouth with a hand.</p><p></p><p>“This isn’t about you. The Bladesong makes you harder to hit and increases your speed. But you have seen only a part of it. Now you are ready to see it in whole,” she said approvingly.</p><p></p><p>“Ready for what?!? All I have been doing is chasing you around this damn shrine.” Rafelor spat.</p><p></p><p>“For me to chase you,” and Arnara flourished her blade, cutting the air. Pausing a moment, she arched an eyebrow and smirked. On cue, Imbok started the beat again, and then Arnara cut low with her rapier, and smacked the flat of the blade on Rafelor’s thigh. Yelping, he started to retreat, once again finding the rhythm to start the Bladesong once again as Imbok restarted the relentless beat.</p><p></p><p>But while the first chase was one marked with misses and deflections; this chase echoed with the sounds of Rafelor’s yelping as Arnara’s blade found its way past the half-elf’s guard with every other strike. Arnara thrust and slashed relentlessly, hounding Rafelor around the room. Rafelor was pressed, trying to evade the rapier’s slaps against him.</p><p></p><p>“Ow, ow, ow!”</p><p></p><p>“Focus…don’t attack. Color my hair,”</p><p></p><p>“What? I can barely—”</p><p></p><p>“Do—“ and Aranda rapped him on the shoulder with the flat of her blade “—What—” and she slapped him in the ribs “—I—” she slashed near his head forcing Rafelor to duck, “—Say!” and she spun slapping the blade on the hand holding the morningstar. Rafelor switched the morningstar to his left and shook his bruised hand in pain. Gritting his teeth, he quickly turned Arnara’s hair a shade of puce. He felt the weave’s eddy’s once again swirl around him. His senses were awash with pain from the rapier’s bruising, from trying to control the weave to make Arnara’s hair an even more unattractive color, and his muscles screaming from the exertion.</p><p></p><p>“I…am…try—” Raelor started to complain, when he felt the eddies in the twisting Weave starting to smooth. Time seemed to slow, as he watched Arnara move her rapier to thrust at Rafelor. As he watched he could see the weave compress around the tip of her weapon. The compression let him see the direction of the strike and allowed him to raise his morningstar up to deflect the blow. Arnara moved again and twisted, slashing high, and Rafelor countered again knocking the rapier out of position. But on the defection, Rafelor realized that he had left himself open to a riposte. Arnara took full advantage of it, spinning and landing the flat of the blade right under Rafelor’s right arm. The blow was strong enough to knock Rafelor off balance, causing him to trip and fall onto the ground. Imbok stopped the drumming, yawned and waited.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor, flipped over onto his back and lay there panting, “Da…da…damn…it,”</p><p></p><p>Arnara stopped and sheathed her blade and knelt down by Rafelor. She then lay a hand on the half-elf’s chest and shook her head. “No…I felt the difference. You could see it. You were reacting to the Weave,” she said with a satisfied tone. “You have connected all the pieces. There is only one thing left.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah great, what is it this time? Poetry while leaping and jumping? Painting with my feet, while I dance on my hands. Is this where I gotta start juggling crap?” Rafelor said, propping himself on his elbows.</p><p></p><p>Arnara giggled and shook her head. “No…no…nothing like that. You must <strong><em>choose</em></strong> to do this. Once you choose, I will give you the tattoo that acts as your anchor. Once done, you will be locked into the path; there is no turning back.” Rafelor was about to answer when Arnara put a hand to his lips. “No, not right this moment. You should think about it. But before that, I have a…gift for your hard work.”</p><p></p><p>“A gift?” Rafelor said confused and sat up fully. “You already gave me the spell book, what more is there?”</p><p></p><p>Arnara smiled and moved her hands to her head. She then pulled off the electrum band with the single sapphire from her brow. She looked at it fondly for a moment. “I made this in Mirabar after we left Khundrukar. It was something I needed then, something to help me focus. I was distracted by my fears and doubts after Ametrine’s and Pyrite’s deaths and I needed something I could pour myself into and forget. But, thanks to you my focus is sharper now.”</p><p></p><p>“Thanks? To me?” Rafelor said disbelievingly.</p><p></p><p>“Teaching someone Bladesong is harder than performing it. But teaching you…is something I have looked forward to and I find…pleasure in it. So now where I used this,” and she held up the headband for Rafelor to see, “as a tool to help focus, you can now use it in the same way. Eventually you can give to someone else as well. Like handing down an heirloom.”</p><p></p><p>She looked down at the metal band in her hands, turning it around and around. “But I think you will find it of use in your practice and studies. It will make your spells stronger, and it will enhance what you see in the weave.”</p><p></p><p>She leaned over to place the band on Rafelor’s head, when he stopped her, “Hold up, hold up, I-I can’t take this—”</p><p></p><p>Arnara smiled, “You are taking nothing. I am giving it to you. If you don’t find value in it, give it to Aegis if you like. But try using it. Do it…for me. Please.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor stared at the shiny electrum headpiece, its sapphire glittering in the torch light they had setup in their practice area. Grimacing he nodded and closed his eyes. He felt Arnara hands brush his hair away from his eyes, and then felt the warm metal settle on his brow. He breathed deeply and furrowed his brow a moment.</p><p></p><p>“Um…I don’t know if this is…<strong><em>URK!</em></strong>” Rafelor’s hands leapt to his temples as searing pain coursed through his mind, causing him to fall backwards. This was no simple headache, it was as if that all the thoughts hidden and suppressed in his mind all rose in insurrection, all rebelling against Rafelor’s sense of self. New paths and different possibilities erupted at once flooding all his perceptions and new perspectives never considered were revealed. Options! Possibilities! Revelations!</p><p></p><p>“Sorry…I didn’t mention that I also screamed a bit as it bound itself to me. The pain will subside soon,” and she gently patted Rafelor on the shoulder. She stood and gathered her things and motioned to Imbok, who gathered his doumbek.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor lay on the floor, twitching. His eyes were opened wide as the band’s power coursed through his mind, opening his awareness. His face once contorted in pain, was now slack with an expression of awe, surprise, and even fear.</p><p></p><p>“You might need some time alone.” Arnara said, wincing guiltily at Rafelor’s predicament. “I’ll be outside waiting for you…and your decision. Take as long as you need,” Arnara said, as she headed towards the entrance of the shrine, with Imbok following. Just as Arnara reached the exit, Imbok the 108th son of Yorb, stopped and turned around and stepped back over to Rafelor. He then leaned over and whispered in the half-elf’s ear:</p><p></p><p>“Rafelor Good.”</p><p></p><p>----------</p><p></p><p>Arnara was sitting outside of the Shrine of Nangnang, looking thoughtfully at the ripples in the water. She was leaning against a stele of stone and had summoned a ghostly hand and was using its delicate fingers to trace patterns on the water. Nearby Arnara’s ‘advisor’ Imbok, 108th son of Yorb lay flat on his back snoring, exhausted by his fevered drumming. The sun’s warm light had just begun to light up the sky as the stars started to fade.</p><p></p><p>From behind her, Arnara heard footsteps and she rose to greet Rafelor. The half-elf was walking slowly and steadily, his eyes showing no signs of disorientation or fear. He inhaled, clearing from his lungs the musty air of the shrine. He then turned to look at Arnara and she returned it without expression, her face a mask hiding her thoughts. He then spoke, “Agh, what the hell? No point in randomly deciding to chicken out after all we’ve been through. I’ll do it.”</p><p></p><p>Arnara, face broke into a warm smile and she leapt forward and hugged Rafelor, who awkwardly tried to escape her sudden embrace. Releasing him, she looked him in eyes, with tears streaming down her cheek.</p><p></p><p>“I am…happy you have decided to do this. And I apologize now.”</p><p></p><p>“Apologize? For what?”</p><p></p><p>“The tattoo…it will be wonderful, as you will guide its form and shape. I’m sure you will be happy with it. But it stings a bit. Actually, it hurts a lot.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p>Story VII was done after our first invasion into the Yuan-Ti nest, and Story VIII is after the second attack. Story VII was Rafelor taking a level in Wizard, and now he has leveled up again and has chosen Bladesinger explicitly. But both Raf and I wanted to tell the story on how he got there. And it did end with Arnara giving him a Headband of Intellect, as she ASI'd her INT to max.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8306661, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Story VIII - The Gift[/B][/CENTER] It was early morning, and the light had only started to creep about the horizon. The jungle was beginning to stir, with strange calls of animals and birds alike. But from the entrance to the darkened shrine, there was a different set of sounds; the first was the sound of doumbek rhythmic drumming, and the other was the haunting sounds of whistling of Bladesong. Inside the shrine, a pair of figures were locked in combat. Each of their weapons sung with a musical whistle as they cut through the air. Rafelor’s morningstar gave off low notes, while Arnara’s rapier sung high ones; each of their weapons a part of a duet. Rafelor chased Anara around the shrine, his morningstar’s wide arcs finding nothing but air as he tried to hit the more agile elf. When they had started, Arnara was simply faster; and he felt that he was a slow plodding turtle trying to catch an impossibly swift Al-mi’raj. But once he found his rhythm, he quickly matched Arnara’s once faster gait. His arcing swings with the morningstar were no longer wide, but now they were coming closer and closer to hitting her. But that closer never seemed farther, as Arnara continued to avoid his swings easily. At first, he thought it was a matter of her being faster. But as they continued, he realized that she was somehow anticipating. Rolling her body so his weapons would pass over her or gracefully spinning and parrying, knocking his weapon off course. For the first and perhaps the only time, he sympathized with the Yuan-Ti’s frustration with her. She had cut her way through their nest with the most elegant form of butchery he had ever seen. And that was before she would tilt the table in their groups’ favor. Whether that meant her doubling her speed and the number of strikes she would make. Or the detonation of a ball of fire in their midst. Or even the strangely empowering moment of Rafelor being polymorphed into a savage beast crushing their opponents with his bare fists. Arnara was methodical, precise, and above all prepared for anything. To Rafelor this made her the most dangerous woman her had ever known. But now respect had turned into frustration, as she continually avoided his blows. She danced effortlessly around Rafelor, while he panted from the exertion trying to land a blow. He then tried to taunt her, “Alright, I see what you’re trying to pull. You think just because you turned me into a giant freaking ape that I’m all ‘monkey-see monkey-do’? Well try this!” Rafelor said and reversed his spin. The heavy weapon whuffed through in the air, and almost found it mark, before Arnara deflected it with her blade. “You have been predictable. But you understand only half the truth.” Arnara said with that maddening impish smile, which then faded to the picture of serenity she normally wore. Her movements continued to be effortless, elegant and unhurried, even as Ralefor redoubled his efforts. He focused on coming from odd angles and reverting to feints and simple short swings. He found himself getting closer and closer, but each time he thought the morningstar would connect, her rapier simply deflected it just enough to miss its mark. While the sound of metal on metal was a sign of progress, he visibly seethed in frustration as Arnara simply evaded his strikes. It had been this way since the darkest part of the morning, when Arnara raised her hand and Imbok, 108th son of Yorb ceased his beat on the doumbek. Rafelor then leaned against the pedestal that once held one of the mysterious stone cubes that were somehow tied to the tomb they searched for. “Why…can’t…I…Fu—” Rafelor stammered as he gasped for air. Arnara then approached him and placed her hand on before Arnara lightly touched his mouth with a hand. “This isn’t about you. The Bladesong makes you harder to hit and increases your speed. But you have seen only a part of it. Now you are ready to see it in whole,” she said approvingly. “Ready for what?!? All I have been doing is chasing you around this damn shrine.” Rafelor spat. “For me to chase you,” and Arnara flourished her blade, cutting the air. Pausing a moment, she arched an eyebrow and smirked. On cue, Imbok started the beat again, and then Arnara cut low with her rapier, and smacked the flat of the blade on Rafelor’s thigh. Yelping, he started to retreat, once again finding the rhythm to start the Bladesong once again as Imbok restarted the relentless beat. But while the first chase was one marked with misses and deflections; this chase echoed with the sounds of Rafelor’s yelping as Arnara’s blade found its way past the half-elf’s guard with every other strike. Arnara thrust and slashed relentlessly, hounding Rafelor around the room. Rafelor was pressed, trying to evade the rapier’s slaps against him. “Ow, ow, ow!” “Focus…don’t attack. Color my hair,” “What? I can barely—” “Do—“ and Aranda rapped him on the shoulder with the flat of her blade “—What—” and she slapped him in the ribs “—I—” she slashed near his head forcing Rafelor to duck, “—Say!” and she spun slapping the blade on the hand holding the morningstar. Rafelor switched the morningstar to his left and shook his bruised hand in pain. Gritting his teeth, he quickly turned Arnara’s hair a shade of puce. He felt the weave’s eddy’s once again swirl around him. His senses were awash with pain from the rapier’s bruising, from trying to control the weave to make Arnara’s hair an even more unattractive color, and his muscles screaming from the exertion. “I…am…try—” Raelor started to complain, when he felt the eddies in the twisting Weave starting to smooth. Time seemed to slow, as he watched Arnara move her rapier to thrust at Rafelor. As he watched he could see the weave compress around the tip of her weapon. The compression let him see the direction of the strike and allowed him to raise his morningstar up to deflect the blow. Arnara moved again and twisted, slashing high, and Rafelor countered again knocking the rapier out of position. But on the defection, Rafelor realized that he had left himself open to a riposte. Arnara took full advantage of it, spinning and landing the flat of the blade right under Rafelor’s right arm. The blow was strong enough to knock Rafelor off balance, causing him to trip and fall onto the ground. Imbok stopped the drumming, yawned and waited. Rafelor, flipped over onto his back and lay there panting, “Da…da…damn…it,” Arnara stopped and sheathed her blade and knelt down by Rafelor. She then lay a hand on the half-elf’s chest and shook her head. “No…I felt the difference. You could see it. You were reacting to the Weave,” she said with a satisfied tone. “You have connected all the pieces. There is only one thing left.” “Ah great, what is it this time? Poetry while leaping and jumping? Painting with my feet, while I dance on my hands. Is this where I gotta start juggling crap?” Rafelor said, propping himself on his elbows. Arnara giggled and shook her head. “No…no…nothing like that. You must [B][I]choose[/I][/B] to do this. Once you choose, I will give you the tattoo that acts as your anchor. Once done, you will be locked into the path; there is no turning back.” Rafelor was about to answer when Arnara put a hand to his lips. “No, not right this moment. You should think about it. But before that, I have a…gift for your hard work.” “A gift?” Rafelor said confused and sat up fully. “You already gave me the spell book, what more is there?” Arnara smiled and moved her hands to her head. She then pulled off the electrum band with the single sapphire from her brow. She looked at it fondly for a moment. “I made this in Mirabar after we left Khundrukar. It was something I needed then, something to help me focus. I was distracted by my fears and doubts after Ametrine’s and Pyrite’s deaths and I needed something I could pour myself into and forget. But, thanks to you my focus is sharper now.” “Thanks? To me?” Rafelor said disbelievingly. “Teaching someone Bladesong is harder than performing it. But teaching you…is something I have looked forward to and I find…pleasure in it. So now where I used this,” and she held up the headband for Rafelor to see, “as a tool to help focus, you can now use it in the same way. Eventually you can give to someone else as well. Like handing down an heirloom.” She looked down at the metal band in her hands, turning it around and around. “But I think you will find it of use in your practice and studies. It will make your spells stronger, and it will enhance what you see in the weave.” She leaned over to place the band on Rafelor’s head, when he stopped her, “Hold up, hold up, I-I can’t take this—” Arnara smiled, “You are taking nothing. I am giving it to you. If you don’t find value in it, give it to Aegis if you like. But try using it. Do it…for me. Please.” Rafelor stared at the shiny electrum headpiece, its sapphire glittering in the torch light they had setup in their practice area. Grimacing he nodded and closed his eyes. He felt Arnara hands brush his hair away from his eyes, and then felt the warm metal settle on his brow. He breathed deeply and furrowed his brow a moment. “Um…I don’t know if this is…[B][I]URK![/I][/B]” Rafelor’s hands leapt to his temples as searing pain coursed through his mind, causing him to fall backwards. This was no simple headache, it was as if that all the thoughts hidden and suppressed in his mind all rose in insurrection, all rebelling against Rafelor’s sense of self. New paths and different possibilities erupted at once flooding all his perceptions and new perspectives never considered were revealed. Options! Possibilities! Revelations! “Sorry…I didn’t mention that I also screamed a bit as it bound itself to me. The pain will subside soon,” and she gently patted Rafelor on the shoulder. She stood and gathered her things and motioned to Imbok, who gathered his doumbek. Rafelor lay on the floor, twitching. His eyes were opened wide as the band’s power coursed through his mind, opening his awareness. His face once contorted in pain, was now slack with an expression of awe, surprise, and even fear. “You might need some time alone.” Arnara said, wincing guiltily at Rafelor’s predicament. “I’ll be outside waiting for you…and your decision. Take as long as you need,” Arnara said, as she headed towards the entrance of the shrine, with Imbok following. Just as Arnara reached the exit, Imbok the 108th son of Yorb, stopped and turned around and stepped back over to Rafelor. He then leaned over and whispered in the half-elf’s ear: “Rafelor Good.” ---------- Arnara was sitting outside of the Shrine of Nangnang, looking thoughtfully at the ripples in the water. She was leaning against a stele of stone and had summoned a ghostly hand and was using its delicate fingers to trace patterns on the water. Nearby Arnara’s ‘advisor’ Imbok, 108th son of Yorb lay flat on his back snoring, exhausted by his fevered drumming. The sun’s warm light had just begun to light up the sky as the stars started to fade. From behind her, Arnara heard footsteps and she rose to greet Rafelor. The half-elf was walking slowly and steadily, his eyes showing no signs of disorientation or fear. He inhaled, clearing from his lungs the musty air of the shrine. He then turned to look at Arnara and she returned it without expression, her face a mask hiding her thoughts. He then spoke, “Agh, what the hell? No point in randomly deciding to chicken out after all we’ve been through. I’ll do it.” Arnara, face broke into a warm smile and she leapt forward and hugged Rafelor, who awkwardly tried to escape her sudden embrace. Releasing him, she looked him in eyes, with tears streaming down her cheek. “I am…happy you have decided to do this. And I apologize now.” “Apologize? For what?” “The tattoo…it will be wonderful, as you will guide its form and shape. I’m sure you will be happy with it. But it stings a bit. Actually, it hurts a lot.” [B]Session Notes:[/B] Story VII was done after our first invasion into the Yuan-Ti nest, and Story VIII is after the second attack. Story VII was Rafelor taking a level in Wizard, and now he has leveled up again and has chosen Bladesinger explicitly. But both Raf and I wanted to tell the story on how he got there. And it did end with Arnara giving him a Headband of Intellect, as she ASI'd her INT to max. [/QUOTE]
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