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Story Hour
Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8993238" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p><strong>Journal of The Folk, Eonic Cycle 21, Lesser Cycle 201, Generation 8, Hunting quarter, 28th Lunar.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong><em><Translated from Draconic></em></strong></p><p></p><p><em>Finished story found in market in peace. Must find new books. Tomorrow must train using Lightfoot sword. Strange object in ways. Only use is combat. While Rockman axe made for combat, has other functions. Wood chopping, slicing meat, and can be cooking surface if needed. Daggers, good for small cutting, stripping hide and skins and fighting if needed. Eggbrother's club when using it doubles as hammer in need.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Sword? Can cut with it, can’t do anything above as effectively. Very single purpose.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>But focus gives purpose. Seen Lightfoot soldiers use it, and eggbrothers’ shows elements of the Dranth. Art with it in movement, steps different than Axe. Thrusts are option, less draw cuts and cleave motion. Defensive posture tends to deflect than blocks. Dranth motion is more fluid. Strength in focus, at cost of utility.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Will try tomorrow with Eggbrother's sword. Assuming Makes-bad-choices stops talking through night. Keeps talking about a parent, someone else’s. Unclear, but likely Sig’varas trying to teach lesson. Good plan, <strong>Makes-bad-choices</strong> must listen to the Sig’varas. Doesn’t listen to self.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em><strong>Makes-bad-choices</strong> is getting loud in evening. Considering knocking on door to get quiet. Will ignore tonight. Maybe sneak and touch of Sig’varas to make that request. Will wait for <strong>Make-bad-choices</strong> to binge drink again or something similar. Patience. Sleep now.</em></p><p></p><p>-------------------</p><p></p><p>In the morning, Ss’Thak was awakened to the elves starting to stir. The time was early, which suited Ss’Thak fine; days in the village started early. Light was as much of a limiting resource, as any other. It was the propensity for the elves to stay up beyond sunset that was disturbing. Ss’Thak surmised this had a lot to do with not being as limited by vision at night. And since elves didn’t really sleep, it seemed that they are always doing something.</p><p></p><p>While all of that being true, it was also true that elven idea of “doing something” seemed random, inefficient, overly concerned with appearances and finally, disguised the fact they weren’t doing anything important at all. For a race with plenty of time on their hands, they seem to focus on the wrong things.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak touched his Eggbrother on the shoulder awakening him. Meeting his gaze, Ss’Tok nodded. No words were needed. All was already discussed last night, and repeating selves just to hear themselves waste of effort. They had both noticed the tendency of the softskins to speak to each other, and really communicate nothing new. This was not the way of the folk; words interfered with focus. A nod to acknowledge certainly wise, but a village was quiet. A quiet village didn’t attract dangerous creatures. Words were used to communicate, not to make noise that had no function.</p><p></p><p>The pair had noticed that they could really move silently among the soft-skins, just by being in a room and saying nothing. They were used to being ignored, once the shock of seeing a pair of folk in a nice place had worn off. And so, without words, the pair made their way downstairs and exited the inn.</p><p></p><p>Outside the Inn they noticed that Sariel, had already arisen and was sitting on a bench nearby. She waved, upon seeing them, and then focused on playing her instrument. Ss’Thak liked Sariel; she understood the purpose of silence. She did like to make noise with her instrument, but that was noise with purpose; to instill pleasure. The sounds she played were soothing, and relaxing was pleasurable. This was a good use of noise. And considering the most dangerous creatures in the city were likely Ss’Thak and Ss’Tok anyway, the risk was low of an attack.</p><p></p><p>Looking around Ss’Thak saw that there was enough clearance and nodded as his Eggbrother. Ss’Tok drew his sword and passed it to Ss’Thak and took his axe in exchange. He then sat down and removed a doumbek that was strapped to the bottom of his pack. After taking a moment to note the rhythm of Sariel’s music, he began to drum, a slow four-beat pattern, watching Ss’Thak.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak stood, eyes closed, holding the sword upright in his right hand, with his left hand above the hilt, almost in prayer. He breathed, soaking in the rhythm; letting his breath match the slow beat. Slowly he forced his heart to slow, and be one with the rhythm.</p><p></p><p>His breath, his heart, and now his mind; one rhythm. The scent of the air fell from his awareness.</p><p></p><p>He began the <em>Circ’Thank.</em></p><p></p><p>His eyes remained closed and began to move. Passersby’s had noted the drumming before, but now they slowed to watch the large Lizardfolk start to move in a slow circle. He stepped cautiously, turning and pantomiming a sword fight with no opponent. It appeared closer to an elaborate dance, with the sword as a dance partner with Ss’Thak in the lead. It didn’t appear like anything that would resemble sparing.</p><p></p><p>Inside of Ss’Thak’s mind, images of the elves sparing at pells, of the hobgoblin troops drilling, of human guards dueling in the faraway Free Cities, and of the rare Dwarves he met in the Karak that preferred the sword to the axe. Every memory being recalled; every movement of those he saw in the past. He recalled how they held their swords, how they balanced them, how they struck. The cuts, the thrusts, the parries.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak then continued the steps of the <em>Dranth</em>. At first, the movements were the same as ones that he would use while using his battle-axe. But they quickly began to change. The balance was different, less focus on sweeps. More thrusting strikes. Spinning the blade, using the momentum to carry him forward and away. He changed the <em>Dranth</em> steps as the weapon demanded. The motions became more fluid, more comfortable. His eyes remained closed and he quickly exhaled.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Tok heard the signal. The second part of the <em>Circ’Thank</em> had begun, and he as watched the <em>Dranth</em> being performed he watched carefully. Slowly he increased the cadence of the beat. Sariel unconsciously heard the increase and kept up the tempo.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak began to repeat the steps he had performed. There were 147 steps and motions as part of the <em>Dranth</em> he chose. Many were small, almost imperceptible; a change in grip, a twist of the foot, a shift in balance of the tail. But the <em>Dranth</em> was an old one, that any Folk would know. As Ss’Thak completed a circuit, Ss’Tok watched and increased the tempo on each circuit.</p><p></p><p>When they started, a full circuit took several minutes to complete. Soon, the circuit took only a minute; and the tempo had doubled three times. It was then that Sariel became aware that the pace had increased. It had slowly snuck up on her. She turned her head, now aware that the drumming had a purpose. Ss’Tok’s doumbek beat had taken over what was once a quiet tune to something more urgent and primal.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak completed more circuits. Where once the sword was an extension of Ss’Thak, the speed increase changed the balance of the dance. The sword was in control now; with the increase of energy increasing its power and momentum. The beat was always increasing pace, relentlessly driving the <em>Dranth</em> forward.</p><p></p><p>Each circuit was now complete in half a minute. Where once, Ss’Thak was silently performing steps, now the sword began to sing. Cutting the air, whistling with each stroke and every flourish. The light of the sun had finally crested the rooftops, and the light caught the flat of the blade. The flashing steel reflecting the light onto the crowd, the grass and the inn nearby. Patrolling guards, concerned by the crowds, approached the Lizardfolk but stopped short, uncertain on what action they should take.</p><p></p><p>Sariel had at this point stopped trying keep up the pace and moved to touch the guards on the shoulders. Gaining their attention, she simply shook her head no, and placed her finger upon her lips, signing the guards not to make any noise.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Thak was unaware. His eyes remained closed, focusing only on the <em>Dranth</em>. He felt the drums as his heart kept tempo with the beat. And then again, he made a quick exhale, signaling to Ss’Tok that the third stage of the <em>Circ’Thank.</em></p><p></p><p>Ss’Tok kept increasing the pace, but a new pattern emerged from the doumbek. Where there was before a simple four beat pattern, a more complex eight-beat pattern emerged. The <em>Dranth </em>changed as well, Ss’Thak no longer moved in simple motion with his legs. Now he started to introduce jumps and spins into the movements. His tail now was more involved here, acting as the counterbalance to the sword. As the crowd watched, the sword and its’ wielder ceased fighting over who was the lead; they became one. Where once the sword was only sound, now the sound of cutting air came from all of Ss’Thaks limbs.</p><p></p><p>The circuit was now nearly frenetic; barely controlled chaos to anyone but Ss’Thak. To him the steps were orderly and purposeful. Each movement one that he had seen and that he had used in combat. Each had a purpose; to defend him, to move him to a better position, to find a weakness, to leverage a strength. Soon a circuit only took fifteen seconds to perform. Motion was blurred, the blade flashing brightly, and the sound of the cut air, now a constant whistle. Then, Ss’Thak made a sharp whistling sound.</p><p></p><p>Ss’Tok, heard and then hit four quick beats on the doumbek, and stopped. At that same moment, Ss’Thak flourished, spun and froze taking again the pose he started with. To him, the pattern was set, the contest of balance won. The <em>Circ’thank</em> complete. He opened his eyes and only then realized he had an audience.</p><p></p><p>The elves quietly applauded, and some tossing some coins on the ground near Ss’Tok. Sariel, turned with a smirk on her face and returned to her seat nearby. Ss’Thak blinked and shook his head.</p><p></p><p>“Silly Softskins” he thought...but not before he scooped up the coins on the ground.</p><p></p><p><strong>Session notes:</strong></p><p>Meet the eggbrothers Ss'Thak and Ss'Tok, a pair of deadly lizardfolk wandering the world to answer a simple question; discover the secrets of softskin's so called "civilization" to understand how these underdeveloped physical specimins manage to stay alive despite obvious physical and cultural definciencies. As the pair developed, quirks about Lizardfolk culture on naming (no one has a proper name in Lizardfolk culture, it is a three word phrase that describes them. Lizardfolk however choose their names, yet Ss'Thak (the letter m) and Ss'Tok (the letter n) have not yet), phrases (like Sig'Varus - a magic weapon that talks) and the like came out to the other players. Most of which written in native form makes for horrible reading. But there were a couple of pieces like this one that were written from a different perspective. </p><p></p><p>Here Ss'Thak is now level 6 and is learning the longsword as a new weapon skill as a Kensai. Lizardfolk do it differently.</p><p></p><p>As a final note; It's also why I admired Richard's Jhasspok; there were a lot of practical similarilties between he and Ss'Thak...right down to brutal efficiency.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8993238, member: 6971069"] [B]Journal of The Folk, Eonic Cycle 21, Lesser Cycle 201, Generation 8, Hunting quarter, 28th Lunar. [I]<Translated from Draconic>[/I][/B] [I]Finished story found in market in peace. Must find new books. Tomorrow must train using Lightfoot sword. Strange object in ways. Only use is combat. While Rockman axe made for combat, has other functions. Wood chopping, slicing meat, and can be cooking surface if needed. Daggers, good for small cutting, stripping hide and skins and fighting if needed. Eggbrother's club when using it doubles as hammer in need. Sword? Can cut with it, can’t do anything above as effectively. Very single purpose. But focus gives purpose. Seen Lightfoot soldiers use it, and eggbrothers’ shows elements of the Dranth. Art with it in movement, steps different than Axe. Thrusts are option, less draw cuts and cleave motion. Defensive posture tends to deflect than blocks. Dranth motion is more fluid. Strength in focus, at cost of utility. Will try tomorrow with Eggbrother's sword. Assuming Makes-bad-choices stops talking through night. Keeps talking about a parent, someone else’s. Unclear, but likely Sig’varas trying to teach lesson. Good plan, [B]Makes-bad-choices[/B] must listen to the Sig’varas. Doesn’t listen to self. [B]Makes-bad-choices[/B] is getting loud in evening. Considering knocking on door to get quiet. Will ignore tonight. Maybe sneak and touch of Sig’varas to make that request. Will wait for [B]Make-bad-choices[/B] to binge drink again or something similar. Patience. Sleep now.[/I] ------------------- In the morning, Ss’Thak was awakened to the elves starting to stir. The time was early, which suited Ss’Thak fine; days in the village started early. Light was as much of a limiting resource, as any other. It was the propensity for the elves to stay up beyond sunset that was disturbing. Ss’Thak surmised this had a lot to do with not being as limited by vision at night. And since elves didn’t really sleep, it seemed that they are always doing something. While all of that being true, it was also true that elven idea of “doing something” seemed random, inefficient, overly concerned with appearances and finally, disguised the fact they weren’t doing anything important at all. For a race with plenty of time on their hands, they seem to focus on the wrong things. Ss’Thak touched his Eggbrother on the shoulder awakening him. Meeting his gaze, Ss’Tok nodded. No words were needed. All was already discussed last night, and repeating selves just to hear themselves waste of effort. They had both noticed the tendency of the softskins to speak to each other, and really communicate nothing new. This was not the way of the folk; words interfered with focus. A nod to acknowledge certainly wise, but a village was quiet. A quiet village didn’t attract dangerous creatures. Words were used to communicate, not to make noise that had no function. The pair had noticed that they could really move silently among the soft-skins, just by being in a room and saying nothing. They were used to being ignored, once the shock of seeing a pair of folk in a nice place had worn off. And so, without words, the pair made their way downstairs and exited the inn. Outside the Inn they noticed that Sariel, had already arisen and was sitting on a bench nearby. She waved, upon seeing them, and then focused on playing her instrument. Ss’Thak liked Sariel; she understood the purpose of silence. She did like to make noise with her instrument, but that was noise with purpose; to instill pleasure. The sounds she played were soothing, and relaxing was pleasurable. This was a good use of noise. And considering the most dangerous creatures in the city were likely Ss’Thak and Ss’Tok anyway, the risk was low of an attack. Looking around Ss’Thak saw that there was enough clearance and nodded as his Eggbrother. Ss’Tok drew his sword and passed it to Ss’Thak and took his axe in exchange. He then sat down and removed a doumbek that was strapped to the bottom of his pack. After taking a moment to note the rhythm of Sariel’s music, he began to drum, a slow four-beat pattern, watching Ss’Thak. Ss’Thak stood, eyes closed, holding the sword upright in his right hand, with his left hand above the hilt, almost in prayer. He breathed, soaking in the rhythm; letting his breath match the slow beat. Slowly he forced his heart to slow, and be one with the rhythm. His breath, his heart, and now his mind; one rhythm. The scent of the air fell from his awareness. He began the [I]Circ’Thank.[/I] His eyes remained closed and began to move. Passersby’s had noted the drumming before, but now they slowed to watch the large Lizardfolk start to move in a slow circle. He stepped cautiously, turning and pantomiming a sword fight with no opponent. It appeared closer to an elaborate dance, with the sword as a dance partner with Ss’Thak in the lead. It didn’t appear like anything that would resemble sparing. Inside of Ss’Thak’s mind, images of the elves sparing at pells, of the hobgoblin troops drilling, of human guards dueling in the faraway Free Cities, and of the rare Dwarves he met in the Karak that preferred the sword to the axe. Every memory being recalled; every movement of those he saw in the past. He recalled how they held their swords, how they balanced them, how they struck. The cuts, the thrusts, the parries. Ss’Thak then continued the steps of the [I]Dranth[/I]. At first, the movements were the same as ones that he would use while using his battle-axe. But they quickly began to change. The balance was different, less focus on sweeps. More thrusting strikes. Spinning the blade, using the momentum to carry him forward and away. He changed the [I]Dranth[/I] steps as the weapon demanded. The motions became more fluid, more comfortable. His eyes remained closed and he quickly exhaled. Ss’Tok heard the signal. The second part of the [I]Circ’Thank[/I] had begun, and he as watched the [I]Dranth[/I] being performed he watched carefully. Slowly he increased the cadence of the beat. Sariel unconsciously heard the increase and kept up the tempo. Ss’Thak began to repeat the steps he had performed. There were 147 steps and motions as part of the [I]Dranth[/I] he chose. Many were small, almost imperceptible; a change in grip, a twist of the foot, a shift in balance of the tail. But the [I]Dranth[/I] was an old one, that any Folk would know. As Ss’Thak completed a circuit, Ss’Tok watched and increased the tempo on each circuit. When they started, a full circuit took several minutes to complete. Soon, the circuit took only a minute; and the tempo had doubled three times. It was then that Sariel became aware that the pace had increased. It had slowly snuck up on her. She turned her head, now aware that the drumming had a purpose. Ss’Tok’s doumbek beat had taken over what was once a quiet tune to something more urgent and primal. Ss’Thak completed more circuits. Where once the sword was an extension of Ss’Thak, the speed increase changed the balance of the dance. The sword was in control now; with the increase of energy increasing its power and momentum. The beat was always increasing pace, relentlessly driving the [I]Dranth[/I] forward. Each circuit was now complete in half a minute. Where once, Ss’Thak was silently performing steps, now the sword began to sing. Cutting the air, whistling with each stroke and every flourish. The light of the sun had finally crested the rooftops, and the light caught the flat of the blade. The flashing steel reflecting the light onto the crowd, the grass and the inn nearby. Patrolling guards, concerned by the crowds, approached the Lizardfolk but stopped short, uncertain on what action they should take. Sariel had at this point stopped trying keep up the pace and moved to touch the guards on the shoulders. Gaining their attention, she simply shook her head no, and placed her finger upon her lips, signing the guards not to make any noise. Ss’Thak was unaware. His eyes remained closed, focusing only on the [I]Dranth[/I]. He felt the drums as his heart kept tempo with the beat. And then again, he made a quick exhale, signaling to Ss’Tok that the third stage of the [I]Circ’Thank.[/I] Ss’Tok kept increasing the pace, but a new pattern emerged from the doumbek. Where there was before a simple four beat pattern, a more complex eight-beat pattern emerged. The [I]Dranth [/I]changed as well, Ss’Thak no longer moved in simple motion with his legs. Now he started to introduce jumps and spins into the movements. His tail now was more involved here, acting as the counterbalance to the sword. As the crowd watched, the sword and its’ wielder ceased fighting over who was the lead; they became one. Where once the sword was only sound, now the sound of cutting air came from all of Ss’Thaks limbs. The circuit was now nearly frenetic; barely controlled chaos to anyone but Ss’Thak. To him the steps were orderly and purposeful. Each movement one that he had seen and that he had used in combat. Each had a purpose; to defend him, to move him to a better position, to find a weakness, to leverage a strength. Soon a circuit only took fifteen seconds to perform. Motion was blurred, the blade flashing brightly, and the sound of the cut air, now a constant whistle. Then, Ss’Thak made a sharp whistling sound. Ss’Tok, heard and then hit four quick beats on the doumbek, and stopped. At that same moment, Ss’Thak flourished, spun and froze taking again the pose he started with. To him, the pattern was set, the contest of balance won. The [I]Circ’thank[/I] complete. He opened his eyes and only then realized he had an audience. The elves quietly applauded, and some tossing some coins on the ground near Ss’Tok. Sariel, turned with a smirk on her face and returned to her seat nearby. Ss’Thak blinked and shook his head. “Silly Softskins” he thought...but not before he scooped up the coins on the ground. [B]Session notes:[/B] Meet the eggbrothers Ss'Thak and Ss'Tok, a pair of deadly lizardfolk wandering the world to answer a simple question; discover the secrets of softskin's so called "civilization" to understand how these underdeveloped physical specimins manage to stay alive despite obvious physical and cultural definciencies. As the pair developed, quirks about Lizardfolk culture on naming (no one has a proper name in Lizardfolk culture, it is a three word phrase that describes them. Lizardfolk however choose their names, yet Ss'Thak (the letter m) and Ss'Tok (the letter n) have not yet), phrases (like Sig'Varus - a magic weapon that talks) and the like came out to the other players. Most of which written in native form makes for horrible reading. But there were a couple of pieces like this one that were written from a different perspective. Here Ss'Thak is now level 6 and is learning the longsword as a new weapon skill as a Kensai. Lizardfolk do it differently. As a final note; It's also why I admired Richard's Jhasspok; there were a lot of practical similarilties between he and Ss'Thak...right down to brutal efficiency. [/QUOTE]
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