Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 3092937" data-attributes="member: 5203">The Bard’s WarWell, if you insist...This will be the last of the three pieces of fiction written at this point in the campaign, this one authored by Lanara's player.  Pretty much a synopsis of recent events from her perspective.-------------------------------------------Damn, my butt hurts! thought Lanara, squirming in her chair at the massive table.  She’d have thought the emperor’s council chambers would have more comfortable seating.  Maybe elves get calluses on their rears so they can’t feel these gods-be-damned hard stupid chairs.  Lanara sighed.  Maybe Haxtha had uncomfortable chairs to discourage exactly the kinds of crap these “allies” and “negotiators” kept slinging about, with nothing actually being said.  Just imagine, the bard thought, if every session was like this, it would take forever to get anything accomplished in Tlaxan.  Of course, given the average lifespan of an elf, that might not be such a long time to wait.  But the rest of the world had things to do and an invasion to worry about.  Lanara kicked her foot against the leg of the table nearest to her and tried to pay attention to what was being not-said... *****“More orders from the Shadow General,” sighed the aide as he dropped a pile of parchments in front of Lanara.  Their eyes met over the stack of missives from the so-called Shadow General (though Lanara had her suspicions as to who he really was).  Whoever it was, the general was busy.  And clever.  Between the general and the bard, everything from troop movements to supply trains were being confused and delayed for the enemy.  Lanara looked bemusedly at the silver stylus laying on her writing table.  She’d acquired it from an elven fancier of hers, who still hadn’t confessed to his or her identity.  The stylus of the masterful hand had certainly made her forging abilities much better, thereby making it much more fun to mess up the enemy’s tactics.  She winked at her aide and grabbed at the topmost parchment.  “Let’s see what I can do to those bastards this time,” she muttered gleefully, bending over her writing supplies...*****Grumbling and whispering chased each other around the conference room the Legacy had commandeered for their own use.  There was talk of individual exploits, near-death experiences, battlefield victories and comparison of tactics.  Lanara sat quietly in one corner, strumming her harp and singing almost as if to herself.  The tension in the room was palpable and she felt a bit left out when it came to fighting words.  As the other members of the Legacy continued their conversations Lanara let her mind drift back a little to her brief, if mostly removed from, experience of the battlefields. The hospitals were terrible, even the best of them.  Too many bodies, too much blood, so much pain and so much wasted youth.  Most of these fighters would most likely not see another battle; if they had been easily healed, they would be back with their units and the mobile healers, not here in some poor noble’s house-turned-death ward.  And for many, these appropriated manors would be their place of death, for the healers were as worn out as the mortally wounded who made their way here.  It grieved Lanara greatly that sometimes all she could do was try to ease the passing of these brave souls. Her companions in the Legacy would only have had her pink hair and her music to identify her in these halls.  In the hospitals, Lanara donned garb more comforting than revealing, though when the troops were in higher spirits she pulled out the entertainer’s garments she’d had specially made and did her damnedest to make them forget where they were and what condition they were in.  She was actually very glad that the healers separated the men and women, for the healing needs of each varied greatly.  She actually found the borrowed healers’ robes comforting to her own soul, as it was easier to concentrate on her music when the young warriors weren’t gazing longingly at her cleavage before turning their heads to the walls, afraid to be faced with their own incapacitation.  And while Lanara possessed no psionic abilities, it was no real chore to realize that some of these men would never lay with another woman, even if they did make it out of the hospital confines.  Nor was it hard to realize that they knew this too, and that it ate at them. Many of the women glared at her with poorly disguised loathing - whether for her unmarked body or other reasons mattered little. So she covered her femininity as best possible and concentrated on soothing the wounded so that the healers could work what magic they were able.  Lanara played her music so that the battered bodies and souls of the wards could find a modicum of relief, but in the recesses of her own mind she wondered if she would ever sleep again without seeing the weariness, pain, longing and fear on the faces of the men and women she played for.....*****            What in the name of Feesha’s left nipple is going on here? Lanara wondered.  First Kyle got all goofed up on us, what with Aran re-doing his memories, and for whatever reason that might have been; now Tolly’s acting all mystic on us, too!  Last time that happened he’d just come back from resurrecting Autumn after he’d been communing with his...by the holy Four and all their servants!  The cansin slapped her forehead.  I’ll bet Crystal anything she likes that he’s been in touch with Ardara again, and she’s gone and done something profound to him!  What is it with these Ardarans and their be damned “reforging?”  Wasn’t Tolly insufferable enough without being remade too?  For the planets’ sake, we’re still trying to get Kyle back together...            Lanara sighed.  Leaning against the nearest tree, she slid down until she was seated on the ground and rested her head on her arms, which were folded across her knees.  Not very ladylike, no, but who cared at this point?Lanara shook her head.  We’re going after a vampire lord, this Lord Morladim, some vampire prince.  What do I know?  Well first off he’s a member of the Tlaxan extended royal family, kinda like that Sauroth creep.  I never could understand necromancers.  Yick.  Rumors are that the fellow is still quite the looker - vain enough to pass up lichdom for vampirism.  I suppose that’s one way to avoid rotting. He used to be a merchant prince, so he’s probably still living in high style in some fine manor house or even a small castle.  Avoiding the lich route means he probably doesn’t like to do things the hard way; I seem to remember he was a sorcerer and not a wizard.  So he’ll want instant gratification from whatever action he decides to take.  He’ll also be slightly limited in his range of spells, but he can cast them as often as he likes.  And while he won’t necessarily have a tome lying around, after however many hundreds of years, he probably has a pretty nasty set of tricks up his sleeve.  Have to be careful not to overreach myself.             Lanara paused in her musings.  A good-looking, most likely very vain ancient sorcerer vampire lord.  What the hell was the group getting into?  What was she getting herself into?  With gods-only-knew what was going to happen with Kyle and Tolly in the long run, she couldn’t necessarily count on them in her planning.  And since this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission, Autumn, duchess or no, was right out.  Big on charisma, that woman, but way too quick-tempered for comfort.  Best to have her and Arrie as bodyguards, in case something corporeal became a threat.  Crystal was a complete unknown, so best to have her stay near Tolly, as she seemed very protective of the stuffy ol’ cleric anyhow.  And where in all the planets was Osborn?  He and Rupert would have been nice to have near, since he was such an excellent scout and strategist.  I mean, hey, if he could play at being the Shadow General, he could certainly help out with a little old vampire, right? Lanara giggled nervously at herself.  Osborn wasn’t here, Kyle was a mess, and who knew what Ardara had done to Tolly this time?  The battle babes could be depended on if it came to a fight, and so, she supposed, could Crystal.  Lanara leaned back against the tree trunk and inhaled deeply.  Who knows? She thought with sarcastic amusement.  Maybe the old neck-biter would be like many of her other conquests.  I really hope he falls for cleavage and concertos...</blockquote>

Verification