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(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden
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<blockquote data-quote="Aethmud" data-source="post: 9239977" data-attributes="member: 6746292"><p>Jack's brow furrows as he peers at the faded marks. <strong>"These etchings have seen better days. So faded. They're written in Giantese, can tell you that much for sure."</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>"You know, I had a chance at one point to learn some of the finer details of Giantese writing."</strong> he relaxes into a wistful expression, as he begins to recount yet another tale with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. <strong>"It all started when I lost a bet to a dryad, renowned in the Feywild not only for her cunning but also as a master matchmaker. My forfeit? To serve as translator for a lovesick hill giant, who'd become deeply smitten with a particularly statuesque and stoic birch tree."</strong></p><p></p><p>He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. <strong>"This wasn't just any run-of-the-mill infatuation, oh no! Our lovelorn friend was a budding poet at heart. He'd spend hours, quill in hand – well, more like a sprig of willow branch, really – composing the most heartfelt, if slightly ponderous, love sonnets for his beloved birch. And there I was, obligated to translate his giant-sized affections into something a bit more... tree-friendly.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>"By the end of it, not only had I become fluent in Giantese, I'd also became quite adept at transcribing massive love poems onto parchment. Etching into granite? That, I left to the giant – my talents lie more in finesse than brute strength! As for the birch tree, she remained unimpressed. But the giant, in his simple, earnest way, seemed blissfully unaware of the tree's lack of interest. He claimed their love was as enduring as the mountains, steadfast and unyielding. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>"The giant, bless his heart, mistook the tree's stoic stillness for a kind of bashful acceptance of his romantic overtures. Every gust of wind rustling through her leaves, he saw as her way of whispering sweet nothings back to him. When she'd sway gently in the breeze, he'd interpret it as a demure nod to his grand declarations of love. In his lovestruck mind, her rooted silence could only be a profound reciprocation of his deep and mountainous affection."</strong></p><p></p><p>Jack chuckles a bit at the memory, and then he takes a step closer to the faded runes, his mouth widening into a grimace as he reaches toward his phial of faerie dust. <strong>"I could sprinkle some faerie fire on the marks and make them more visible. But it could be a trap. I wouldn't want our stories to end with us as mere icicles atop this mountain,</strong>" he says, nodding to the frozen tiefling, <strong>"...might not be worth the risk..." </strong></p><p></p><p>As he hesitates, his eyes dance with the thrill of the gamble, a hint of recklessness creeping in. <strong>"You know, if you think about it, the potential reward probably outweighs the risk. Unveiling these runes might just be the key we need," </strong>he muses, thumbing the cork of the phial. <strong>"I'm inclined to light them up and see what secrets they're hiding. Fortune favors the bold, not the cold, am I right?" </strong></p><p></p><p>Jack pauses, glancing around at his companions, his expression open and inviting input. <strong>"Mind you, I've been wrong maybe once or twice before. If there's a different path you see, my ears are as open as this phial might soon be."</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Aethmud, post: 9239977, member: 6746292"] Jack's brow furrows as he peers at the faded marks. [B]"These etchings have seen better days. So faded. They're written in Giantese, can tell you that much for sure." "You know, I had a chance at one point to learn some of the finer details of Giantese writing."[/B] he relaxes into a wistful expression, as he begins to recount yet another tale with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. [B]"It all started when I lost a bet to a dryad, renowned in the Feywild not only for her cunning but also as a master matchmaker. My forfeit? To serve as translator for a lovesick hill giant, who'd become deeply smitten with a particularly statuesque and stoic birch tree."[/B] He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. [B]"This wasn't just any run-of-the-mill infatuation, oh no! Our lovelorn friend was a budding poet at heart. He'd spend hours, quill in hand – well, more like a sprig of willow branch, really – composing the most heartfelt, if slightly ponderous, love sonnets for his beloved birch. And there I was, obligated to translate his giant-sized affections into something a bit more... tree-friendly. "By the end of it, not only had I become fluent in Giantese, I'd also became quite adept at transcribing massive love poems onto parchment. Etching into granite? That, I left to the giant – my talents lie more in finesse than brute strength! As for the birch tree, she remained unimpressed. But the giant, in his simple, earnest way, seemed blissfully unaware of the tree's lack of interest. He claimed their love was as enduring as the mountains, steadfast and unyielding. "The giant, bless his heart, mistook the tree's stoic stillness for a kind of bashful acceptance of his romantic overtures. Every gust of wind rustling through her leaves, he saw as her way of whispering sweet nothings back to him. When she'd sway gently in the breeze, he'd interpret it as a demure nod to his grand declarations of love. In his lovestruck mind, her rooted silence could only be a profound reciprocation of his deep and mountainous affection."[/B] Jack chuckles a bit at the memory, and then he takes a step closer to the faded runes, his mouth widening into a grimace as he reaches toward his phial of faerie dust. [B]"I could sprinkle some faerie fire on the marks and make them more visible. But it could be a trap. I wouldn't want our stories to end with us as mere icicles atop this mountain,[/B]" he says, nodding to the frozen tiefling, [B]"...might not be worth the risk..." [/B] As he hesitates, his eyes dance with the thrill of the gamble, a hint of recklessness creeping in. [B]"You know, if you think about it, the potential reward probably outweighs the risk. Unveiling these runes might just be the key we need," [/B]he muses, thumbing the cork of the phial. [B]"I'm inclined to light them up and see what secrets they're hiding. Fortune favors the bold, not the cold, am I right?" [/B] Jack pauses, glancing around at his companions, his expression open and inviting input. [B]"Mind you, I've been wrong maybe once or twice before. If there's a different path you see, my ears are as open as this phial might soon be."[/B] [/QUOTE]
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