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 Posted: Tue Apr 09, 2013 5:05 pm
 The future Bard of the Land walked with purpose down the street. The world was a light with inspiration! That and his father had told him he needed to get outside more, he had been cooped up in the stable since winter and had not a chance to explore more of the area. But nature provides the greatest inspiration.
Also he might happen upon a fellow foal, a colt of good breeding and proper mannerisms. Perhaps they could converse about the decline in the bardic art and that so few appriciate talents such as his own. His father said he needed to make more friends and be more social. Ah his father was but a simple stallion with simple ideas. His creations showed the artist within, how he could speak with an arrangment; but still he was a phony of the earth. Larry was a phony of the heart and mind!
And so it was that Poet Larriet walked along the bath, his bright red coat blazing in the spring sun. He thought they greatly resembled the tulips now blooming in his father's garden, a sure sign that spring was coming the large draft had said. Ah spring, a time of new beginnings.
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Posted: Tue Apr 09, 2013 6:54 pm
 Roc may not have exactly been of "proper mannerisms" nor of "good breeding", but he was the only one who seemed to be there sitting on a stoop of a little apartment building in Phony City.
It was a little strip as though something out of Sesame Street. All bright and fabricated. It was as though even the trash cans were deliberately dirtied with paint and even the dents looked like they were hammered in with an artist's touch.
So there he was, on a pristine stoop and sitting on the last step while plucking chords on a secondhand guitar. Watching Larry go by, he only muttered a single word.
"Sup?"
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Posted: Thu Apr 11, 2013 7:01 am
Larry had almost not seen the purple colt amongst the brightly colored section of town. He seemed to fit right in. Even Larry with his own colors looked the part of a kid's show walking up upon the guitar playing colt. Ah, a guitar! Surely this foal was a bard such as himself, a traveling minstrel perhaps. A colt who told stories of great feats and adventures!
His greeting seemed to throw Larry off a bit. Sup? Supper? Was the colt hungry? No he seemed to be offering a greeting. Ah perhaps it was the "slang" verbage he had heard some colts use in his father's shop. Larry had never been very good at speaking like the other colts his age, too wrapped up in the stories of old. But he had promised his father he would be socialable while on his walk.
"Greetings my fellow!" he spoke loudly as he walked to his stoop. "It is so refreshing to see a fellow colt who enjoys an artistic life. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Poet Lariat. My family prefers to simply address me as Larry and you may as well! Might I inquire of your title?"
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Posted: Thu Apr 11, 2013 9:04 am
It was hard to tell who or what Roc was looking at, on account of his hair had begun growing over his eyes. It was a wonder how he even saw anything at all, but he could. Maybe his ears were better than his eyes?
"My name's Roc n' Rolls, if that's whatcher asking," Roc replied.
He picked a few more chords. One note kept going astray.
"I think my strings are slipping off the peg..." he said unamused.
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Posted: Sun Apr 14, 2013 8:06 pm
Roc and Rolls? An interesting name to be sure. Named for the strong stone and a...delicious baked good? However despite his unusual name the colt seemed musically inclined. Ah and with the guitar! A noble instrument of the traveling bard and a stable of all minstrels! He seemed to be styled after one as well with such...well..long hair. It could barely see the other's eyes.
"It is lovely to meet you..ah..Roc. It seems you are minstrel with your merry insturument. Are you composing an epic ballad or perhaps a romantic tale of star crossed lovers?" he smiled at the purple colt.
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Posted: Mon Apr 15, 2013 7:49 am
"I don't know that I've got my stats rolled for that just yet," Roc shrugged. "You don't even get 'Riff' until Level 8..."
Instead of bedtime stories, a lot of the time he'd get read to from the DnD Manual, latest edition. His old man, Cherpumple, said it was important to learn "culture". Cherpumple was obviously oblivious to any culture other than the variety of cuisines in his cook books.
"My dad's an NPC, I think. He's the village baker," Roc plucked at the strings again. "If you pitted him against a Chimera, I think he'd win by feeding it one too many doughnuts."Sauce: http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Bard,_Variant_(3.5e_Class)
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Posted: Sat Apr 27, 2013 8:40 am
Larry cocked his head at the strange form in which Roc spoke. Rolling stats? Perhaps that was as form of creative contemplation? And what was a Riff? He had heard the word sometimes from his cousins Draft Punk and PARTY but had never caught on the meaning. Plus they were also musicians like Roc seemed to be. Must be something with music.
Then he spoke of his father being a baker and that he could defeat a great beast with...dounghnuts? Poor Larry wasn't sure what kind of epic ballad could be contrived from that kind of story but maybe he could help. "Good friend perhaps I can help create your ballad! I am a bard of my own right, one of the written word! My poetry will one day be spoken of all through Phonyland and beyond!" he puffed up his chest a little.
"Let us combine our artistic skills! We can take the seed of creativity and nuture it until it is a garden of inspiration and excitement!" Larry smiled as he took a seat next to Roc. He always used gardening terms thanks to his father when talking about making things better.
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Posted: Sat Apr 27, 2013 10:15 am
"Do the what with the whuh?" Roc watched him sit down next to him.
Roc watched as families, both Phony and non-Phony alike, wander around the town. He watched on somewhat enviously as the larger groups looked as though they were on some sort of expedition. He envisioned an electric guitar strapped to his back as he cut through the jungle with an axe in either hand. A wandering warrior-bard hybrid class, a band of goblins approaching at speed...
Roc blinked.
"I don't think that stuff comes from seeds," he said finally. "I think it's a buff from, like, a potion or an enchantment that lasts a few turns."
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Posted: Tue Apr 30, 2013 10:24 pm
Larry once again gave Roc the strangest look. Creativity didn't come from a drink....well unless it was those drinks his Uncle TACO was talking about. But he didn't trust most of what that phony said, he didn't seem the honorable sort anyway. The colt seemed lost in thought as he spoke, perhaps he was more a visionary creator.
"Oh but creativity can come from you talents and skills! It can be quite a feat to create a ballad about great adventures. It doesn't even necessarily have to be a true ballad, it can just be one you dream of doing," the red colt smiled, "Do you have an adventure in mind we could put to word and song?"
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 7:00 am
Roc, somewhere in all that hair, looked at Larry. He looked into the street and watches people go about their usual, daily lives. He looked up into the near pristine windows, complete with neat and flowered window boxes. Even the house pets were clean and well behaved...
"Bro, I don't think there's any adventure here," he said, then plucked on another string. "Have you looked around? No dungeons to crawl, no monsters to slay, and no one around here really carries any dice."
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 8:36 am
Larry grinned at Roc as he spoke that there was no adventure to be found. Ah but there was adventure everywhere, at least in Larry's eyes. You could always find some if you just looked for it. "My dear fellow adventure doesn't just walk up and introduce itself. You must seek it!"
He raised an eyebrow at the idea of dungeons and monsters. Those....were only things of legend and story. "Not all things must involve peril or danger, Roc. Sometimes an adventure is one of exploration, of new things never before discovered!" he smiled, "And sometimes adventure is what we see in our mind. One does not have to experience adventure to create one. Perhaps we can create our own adventure, tell our own tale. Perhaps add some twists and turns and think of how one would react to them."
Larry liked the idea of creating an adventure, required less travel on his part. He wondered if Roc liked the idea. And why did they need dice?
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 12:00 pm
"Of course," Roc gave a snort. "There's no danger or peril here..."
Roc stopped to play a few chords over and over.
"...It's depressing. I've had no real choice but to make it up in my head for too long, bud," Roc shook his head. "I'm tired of pretendin', you dig? If you really want to be a bard, bro, you gotta get up and go places. Things outside what we're all used to."
He stood up and flexed his near useless, tiny wings. Slinging his guitar onto his back he looked around again and up to his Dad's apartment window.
"The old man is so scatterbrained, he wouldn't even know if I left for a day or a week. He loves me to death but he's convinced the way to go is to eat sandwiches and bake all your life. That ain't for me."
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 4:11 pm
Larry listened to Roc lament his lack of adventure. Despite his love of making up stories about such travels the colt knew was still a bit young to be going off by himself on something that could be dangerous. Apparently the boy's father was a culinary artist, one who prefered the safety of an oven over the perile of the outdoors.
Suddenly he stood and pointed at Roc, "Then let us make him more adventurous! For things can be manipulated by how you describe them!"
He hopped onto the step again and put a dramatic hand to his chest. "Behold the Barbarian Baker! Do not be fooled by his gentle appearance! Many an egg have taken a beating by his hand; nary one drop of cream does not know the sting of his whippings!" he fell to the stoop on his knees feigning tears, "Oh the cruelty witnessed by the helpless gingerbread men as he gleefully snaps their legs in twane!"
"Oh but what brave soul shall free the monster's prisoners? Who hath the hunger for justice!" he looked at Roc. "DO YOU?!? Do you young bard, who's music pierces the night; can you set them free!?"
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 6:21 pm
Roc stared up at Larry, then looked at the mixed reaction of the people and phonies as they passed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of how to react.
"Are you serious, bro?" Roc looked at him, mouth slightly open in a questioning expression. "The only thing barbaric about the old man is what he does to his dinner."
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Posted: Tue May 07, 2013 6:23 am
"Ah another mark of his villiany!" Larry grinned at Roc, "He shows no mercy to that which was created just for him. With loving hands and full heart was the gift placed before him! Only to ravenge it like a mad dog!"
Larry gave a bit of a gwaff when he said the last bit. Frankly the only way he could imagine such behavior was for Roc's father to basically go face first into good. And it was hard to stay dramatic when things were reduced to pie eating contest standards.
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