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 Posted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 8:27 pm
This is the Eastern Continent, where we are playing.
We are going to start our game in Bodove. It is a land of wide open fields, savannah and looseknit villages. We will start in the trading post of Chai, the Merchant Capitol on the island of Ijana (just south of Bodove). In this city you will find all assortment of races, and it would be likely that we could encounter each other.
Mod posts will be done in Document type.
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Posted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 8:28 pm
((Mod: The opening scene...))
The island of Ijana, although more developed than it had previously been, the entire island is still laden with rich foliage and plenty of wildlife. The area is tropical, with humid warm air, and the plants are something you would expect to see in the darkest of jungles or in the mesozoic... The greens are deep and rich in colour, the plants have wide broad leaves and spikey bright flowers that smell as sweet as they are deadly. There are many vines, wild rodents, wild boars, colourful songbirds, wild fruit and fungi to be found.
Moving in towards Chai, The Merchant City of Bodove, and the Capitol of Ijana:
Chai is clearly a hodgepodge city; its mix of cultures is as clear as the light of day - not only in the architecture, but in the shop fronts, their wares, and in the citizens of the city. In Chai, any race is welcome, as long as they follow the Merchant's Code and keep the peace. The harbour of Chai lies south ofthe main city core, and faces the Azan Ocean, towards the continent of Ere Beghin. Here, you can rent or offer your boat for hire tat will take you to Lisdan, Ere Beghin, mainland Bodove, or - on rarer occasions - to Muzin's Cliffs of Aragon.
You can find Apothecaries of the Suoro and Ere Breghin merchants, weaponsmith shops of the Speritanian and Muzina blacksmiths, you can find a library and museum out post run by some Lisdanese scholars. But be warned, the waters south and east of Ijana are crawling with pirates and looters, and even they need to come inland to rest their bones now and then. When they do,they come to Ijana where they can sell their stolen goods with no questions asked, as long as they remain civil.
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Posted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 8:38 pm
The Characters
Valok RnKied. His caption says in Muzino: Wouldya like a Hand?
The characters read Nemyntros Ac|tarios in Suoro Script.
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Posted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 10:00 pm
Nemyntros sauntered down the busy streets of Chai. It was still early in the day, and the weather was giving all indications that the day would be beautiful. He had his small leather book tucked under one arm, and his other hand on the pomel of his crystaline sword as he sauntered. His fortunes were excellent, his business prospering and the coming week promising. Nemyntros was in a wonderful mood. He turned the corner, gracefully skirting a cart pushed by a burly Nivo Bodovian and caught sight of a painted wooden sign hanging from the side of a building across the courtyard. There were no words on the sign, merely the image of a helm with scarlet plume served on a golden plate. The Conquest That was the place they had agreed upon. Nemyntros picked his graceful way across the square, looking casually about and taking in the sights and sounds and smells of the early morning. There were already a handful of merchants out, heading down to the pier. Nemyntros glanced in passing at their wares and stepped up to the wooden door of the taverna. It was a Muzina taverna, by the looks of the architecture. He glanced up at the sign as he passed through the door and barely managed to subdue a snort of amusement as he realized the helm on the sign was Speritanian. 'How delicate of them, in true Muzina fashion.' Nemyntros thought to himself and looked around the common room he'd entered. Seated at the bar was a bleary-looking minstrel who shielded his eyes from the light that streamed in through the laticed windows. Clearly, he'd had too much to drink the night prior. The Barkeep was in his place behind the bar, wiping a tankard and glancing towards Nemyntros. "Good Morning, sir. You fancy Breakfast?" The Muzina's Suoro was not perfect, but it was clear, and direct. Nemyntros shook his silvery locks and grinned. "No, I'm not quite that hungry. But have you any of that fine Tambryn of your countrymen? I simply adore it." The man nodded and waved a hand to the tables, which were mostly empty. "Take yer seat. Will be it shortly." The man responded in his broken Suoro and rang a brass bell for the kitchens. "Shabil yanania Tambryn! Muzvis anglaznia peh sutez."Nemyntros looked about at the spotless, polished redwood tables and sat at one of the far side fo the room, where he had clear view of the door.
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Posted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 11:30 am
A tall, dark Lisdanese woman waltzed down the gang plank before a line of sailors, joking and laughing with them. She stood on the dry land for a few moments, her legs still felt as though she were on the ship, rocking and bucking with the waves, and smile curled across her lips. "You all have two weeks and your pay, do what you will with it...but if you want back on the crew, be here before we shove off!" The men went in their own directions with a nod and an 'aye, Captain' from a few. She knew many would be back by morning, simply for a place to sleep.
A purse of money jingled at her side--currency from every nation in the Eastern Continent. With a fluid, sweeping motion, she took off the large hat she wore and let her long white locks fall down around her shoulders, took a deep breath and started toward downtown Chai. It was quite busy, as usual, but with the fair weather, there were sure to be more people out than usual. Her smile only grew wider when she took the sight of a elderly Bodovian sunning himself on the beach near the marina. Her fingers sailed through her hair before she replace the wide brimmed hat atop her head, adorned with a violet plume that trailed behind her.
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Posted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 10:30 pm
A strapping young lad with not too pleasant a face stepped out from the kitchens in naught more than his Tuzi pants and his sleeveless undershirt. He carried in his hands a dark rsy-coloured glass bottle of considerable size and a small stone tray on which sat a single marble cup. These the boy brought before Nemyntros with a hasty and somewhat clumsy boy. Nemyn knew a little of the boy, and judging from his blotchy skin and awkward motions he could tell the boy had not yet reached puberty. Nemyntros graciously accepted the Tambryn and watched as the boy broke hte seal easly, where it would have taken five or six Nemyntros' to even try to break the heat-sealed wax and cork. The boy poured the white marble cup nearly to its brim with the thick reddy-brown liquid and bowing hastily again he scurried back to the kitchens.
Nemyntros lifted the glass and took the first sip. The thick liquer was robust, then sweet, then nearly pungantly so. Nemyntros smiled as the thick flavour seemed to unfold in his mouth. This was fine Tambryn; none of the often common woody flavour was left on his tongue when he swallowed. As he sipped at the liquor he watched the door. It should be in about ten or so more minutes that his companion would arrive. If she was on time, that was...
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Posted: Thu Jul 20, 2006 9:53 pm
Sen, with her outlandish hat and oil slicked long coat, still smelling of brine from the sea, strode toward the heart of town. Her pace was quick as they were a week late in getting to Chai, but the sea knows no such time tables. A child on his mother's arm stopped and gasped when he caught sight of the scarred and mangled side of the Captain's face--his mother tried to urge him on with little success. Turning, her good eye to young one, a mischevious grin curled across her lips before she suddenly turned to him directly. "Rawr!" she snarled, seemingly so fierce. The child squealed and giggled in delight as Sen continued on her way.
Finally, after walking for quite some time, almost thinking she was too late, she saw it and rushed over to a building on the far side of a courtyard. As she passed the doorway, she gave the wood a good sniff and waltzed inside, only then did she remove the large ornate hat and unbutton her jacket. The boy was probably just startled to see anyone wandering around a heavy coat in this warm weather! she thought.
"You! Boy!" she called to a splotchy young man behind the counter at the bar. "Ale!" With that, she hung her hat and coat on a hook and boy scurried off to meet her demand.
A second later, the yound Muzina turned back and asked sheepishly, "What kind?"
Sen gave him a look of pure nonchalance, "The strong kind."
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2006 12:09 am
Nemyntros watched casually as a Lisdanese seawoman entered the taverna, hanging up her hat and coat by the door. With a small smile he sipped at his Tabryn and listened carefully with his adept Suoro ears as the timid boy asked the woman what kind of ale she preferred. When hte Lisdanese lady demanded the 'trong kind' Nemyntros took in her appearancea little closer to the detail, marking the heavy lines of the scar on her face, the beginnings of creases from age and weather along her eyes and mouth... Even still... Nemyntros intoned to himself silently.
The young Muzina boy, at a loss for what else to do, gummed at the woman for a moment, and then, in a seemingly rude - but wholly Muzina fashion - the boy sputtered. "Lady, that would kill you! Muzina Ale cannot be tolerated by any but our people! Surely, a Bodovian ale, or perhaps a Suoro Vintage would better suit your Ladyship's needs." The boy stood peering up at the taller woman's face, and Nemyn could see the admiration for that scar from across the room, so plain was the boys respect for her.
Nemyn slowly took another sip, keeping his eyes trained over the top of his clay cup.
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2006 9:57 pm
Sen stretched her arms overhead with locked hands, causing her already elongated body to appear that much longer, then letting her arms down, she walked over and placed her hands on the bar, looking deep into the young boy's eye.
"Over my many years, I have shipped ale from Muzin to Tirivahn, to Suoro, even to Ere Beghin..." a wry grin curled across her face, and her features soften as she dropped a few coins onto the bar. "Now in all that time, do you honestly think that I have not indulged myself once or twice?" She placed another coin, a gross overpayment, into his hand and closed it for him, "Your concern is touching, now, off with you."
As she sat down in a stool, she looked around half-heartedly, choosing to ignore the boy until he returned--with her drink.
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2006 7:03 pm
Nemyntros watched with a subdued bemused expression as the Muzina made a deeply affronted face and gummed for something to retort. Before he had the chance, the barkeep - apparently the boy's father - gave him a sound wollop up the side of the head that would have killed a Suoro child of the same age and permenantly damaged the brain of a Lisdanese. The boy scowled openly and took heel to the cellar, and left the second coin on the countertop. Nemyntros raised his eyebrows. Ah, the Muzina...such a proud race.
Nemyn pondered quietly to himself as he waited for the boy to return. He carried a smallish keg over his shoulder and poured from it easily into a large wooden tankard. Once the cup was in the Lisdanese woman's hand, Nemyntros picked up the glass vessel of remaining Tambryn and his goblet of stone and strode somewhat-casually towards the bar.
He placed the bottle down without a sound and let his then free hand rest easily on the bartop. He still held the stone goblet in the other hand, and affected an air of ease with it, though the angle at which he held it was more befitting for a goblet of wrought silver not stone. In truth his wrist began to smart, but he let none of his discomfort show, and instead offered half of a gracious bow and a captivating smile.
"Good Morning Madam."
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Posted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 9:06 pm
Sen smiled to cover the fact that she was trying not to snicker. He is going to break his wrist holding that thing! She pushed a stool out for him with a boot foot and tilted her head courteously, "Good Morning, Sir." Sen then took a small sip of her ale, just enough to wet her tongue and let it simply soak into her--such was the trick for her to drink an entire tankard Muzina ale without it rendering her comatose--or at least very nearly.
"And how are you this fine day?" Sen continued at length.
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Posted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 11:09 pm
Nemyntros delicately sipped from his goblet and then set the stoneware gently on the bartop. With a fine and deft motion he slipped his palm to his waist where his arm could rest without giving any hint of the strain that the graceful Suoro had pressed upon the slender tendons of his slim wrist.
When the woman asked how he was faring, Nemyntros' smile broadened nearly to a grin, and he said with a glittering white-fanged smile, "The Weaves of the World have been utter kind to me, madam. So long as the sun continues to shine down on my pate, I feel this day, that I shall be a content man always. But, alack too much of my own matters. By my Madam's well-worn garments, I take you for a seafarer, and well versed in the laws of waves, to be sure?" Nemyntros delicately phrased his observance of the woman's age and action-worn clothing.
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Posted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 12:27 am
In a darker more secluded area of the taverna, Vabo Null was watching the two others talk. He was of course, paying more attention to the ale in front of him than their conversation. Not that he wasn't interested in their conversation, quite the contrary. He just wanted to finish off this ale to get another, then another, and perhaps another, until he had trouble walking out of the establishment. From there, he might take what little money he had left on him and try to buy passage on a ship, just to see where the winds would take him. They had brought him here after all.
What was starting to bother him tho, was the Suoro. He never really had ever trusted that race - ever. They were too... meh, he didn't even want to think about it right now. It was ruining drink time, and that really was starting to bother him. He didn't even know he was glaring daggers into the Suoro's back.
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