Finodborn had mixed feelings about Seinor, which is maybe why he hadn't been there all that often. It felt cozy; clearly people had done their best to make their new home as warm and welcoming as Tal' FeaTaur had once been. People like Sevti and Paloma.
And at the same time, walking around here made him feel like a traitor too. This was a seductive, fake coziness, a surrogate. He knew well enough that the Panlings had nearly lost their last hope, and he understood their longing for peace and their old way of living. But he saw clearly as well that this old life could never really coexist with that wart of a city - once the pride of Pan's holy Isle - Aveas. Finodborn felt it, laughing him in the face every time he set eyes on it, or even heard it's name mentioned. And Seinor channeled the Panlings' anger, eased their souls and caused them to be nice and docile pets.
The past few weeks, he'd been working in Aveas at this time of day, doing whatever silly work he could get, acting like a good servant but meanwhile observing the workings and structure of the colonist's city. However, his nightly trips to the faewoods had made him tired, and he'd decided to take a day off. While he'd slept deeply, his mind was tired, as if he'd been straining it too much.
He went to check out the new tavern, chose a comfy seat, ordered some white wine if they had any, and asked whether they had water pipes like they like used to have in the Pan's Touch inn. The herbs used in those tasted excellent, and they had a mild, relaxing effect on top of that. Exactly what he was craving for right now. If this place had any, just maybe even Finodborn could get to call this place home.
PI - Dawn of a New Day - Seinor, Mntide Chyril 22nd [Open]
PI - Dawn of a New Day - Seinor, Mntide Chyril 22nd [Open]
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Guest
Deep in his heart, Thyrennan knew he did not belong. Sure, the panlings welcomed him as their own, but there was something beckoning him, restless nights of slumber, the road seemingly stretching before him and the summons of Oracle Isle singing within the depths of his halfling heart. Small Thyren kept them all inside as days and seasons passed as was its customary habit, Seinor growing around him like wildflower come spring day. And yes, it was spring, nature was coming alive yet Thyren indifferently swept his innocent eyes over the growing place, those blue eyes gazing distantly, unreadable, to a place he could not see but singing and yearning inside his heart.
Where would it begin? Where would it end? The road of destiny moves on and on like a river seeking its own path. He couldn't dare think of leaving Sevti nor leaving Pan's Isle; of all the places and people he had met, Sevti became the mother he had never known and the island the home he never had. But there was something beyond the horizon, calling, enchanting him and his mind was troubled, his silent, innocent heart was divided. If he leave, would he know the end of Sevti's path? He knew there would be things he could never know. What were the songs the sirens sang when they lulled that great sailor to them or how King Balthazar died and who killed him? Where would Sevti's path lead her and what would become of her?
"The wind we hear upon the branches that we will never, ever see." Thyrennan murmured in hafling tongue with his distant, blurry, brown eyes. It was a halfling expression, a final phrase, it meant: Let it go. With a distant sigh, the small halfling turned back to the present. He was sitting unobstrusively inside the tavern of Seinor and slowly, he looked down upon his deck of Tarot cards that were spread across the table and flipped-open another card sideways to reveal the Unmarked once more, mocking the priest of Fate and Chance with its blank and white illustration. Frowning, he took two cards from his deck and flipped them open to reveal the Bard with its picture of a handsome, lithe adhiel holding a harp and the Swanlady and upon it was a depiction of a very beautiful, pale woman with feathery wings under the light of the full moon while she floated above a silvery lake.
What do they mean?
Where would it begin? Where would it end? The road of destiny moves on and on like a river seeking its own path. He couldn't dare think of leaving Sevti nor leaving Pan's Isle; of all the places and people he had met, Sevti became the mother he had never known and the island the home he never had. But there was something beyond the horizon, calling, enchanting him and his mind was troubled, his silent, innocent heart was divided. If he leave, would he know the end of Sevti's path? He knew there would be things he could never know. What were the songs the sirens sang when they lulled that great sailor to them or how King Balthazar died and who killed him? Where would Sevti's path lead her and what would become of her?
"The wind we hear upon the branches that we will never, ever see." Thyrennan murmured in hafling tongue with his distant, blurry, brown eyes. It was a halfling expression, a final phrase, it meant: Let it go. With a distant sigh, the small halfling turned back to the present. He was sitting unobstrusively inside the tavern of Seinor and slowly, he looked down upon his deck of Tarot cards that were spread across the table and flipped-open another card sideways to reveal the Unmarked once more, mocking the priest of Fate and Chance with its blank and white illustration. Frowning, he took two cards from his deck and flipped them open to reveal the Bard with its picture of a handsome, lithe adhiel holding a harp and the Swanlady and upon it was a depiction of a very beautiful, pale woman with feathery wings under the light of the full moon while she floated above a silvery lake.
What do they mean?
Last edited by Guest on Sat Apr 14, 2007 4:34 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Sevti
- Retired staff
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- Location: Nashville, TN/Pan's Isle
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Sevti walked down the busy street of Seinor, her mouth drawn in a slight frown of concentration. The frown would change briefly to a smile whenever she was greeted by one of the townsfolk, but as soon as they passed, the look would return.
The young woman had a lot on her mind. The town was doing as well as could be expected for something so new, but it still didn't feel like home to her. Truth be told, she hadn't fought for it so much for her but for the others. There needed to be a place where life could return to normal, where those tired of fighting could rest and rebuild.
Sometimes Sevti wished she could just rebuild, rest, begin life anew. But there was still anger in her. An anger that she couldn't seem to let go. Anger over the invasion because of greed and intolerance. Anger over the giving away of their home. Anger over the loss of Abeo. There were times that she was certain that anger would never leave her. That it would seethe within her until it destroyed her.
But then there were times when the peace of the town surrounded her, when her talks with Paloma started making sense. When she spent time with Thyren or Gotham or the Priestess, she could forget the anger for a little while and be the Sevti that she was before this all began.
So often, she felt like she were two people: the angry, almost vengeful woman who had lost so much and the joyful, loving Panling who tried to live for her God and her people. Paloma told her she needed to meld the two together, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to do that.
She turned the corner and entered the new tavern. Even though it wasn't her parents' tavern - they had decided to return to Aveas before Sevti had secured the new town for the Panlings - it still had a home-like feel to the former tavern wench. She suspected that would always be the case, no matter what tavern she entered.
As she stepped through the doorway, she glanced quickly around for her tiny friend, Thyrennen. It wasn't difficult to find him - the tavern was relatively empty during this time of morningtide. She waved to the man behind the bar as she crossed to her friend, his cards spread across the table and a look of concentration on his face. The familiar sight brought a true smile to her face. The little halfling went nowhere without his cards, did nothing important without consulting them. And truth be told, he had helped guide her more than once with his readings. She'd come to trust him more than anyone in her life but Paloma.
She passed by an adhiel that she had seen once or twice, but had never been introduced to. His question about the water pipes came to her ears as she passed by, which brought to mind a brief memory of her own to spring forth. The relaxation of the pipes, the feeling of a warm embrace, the sense of peace. She blinked back the tears that came to her mind as she rounded the table, forcing the smile back to her face.
"What do the cards have to offer us today, Thyren?" she asked, pulling out the chair to take her own seat.
The young woman had a lot on her mind. The town was doing as well as could be expected for something so new, but it still didn't feel like home to her. Truth be told, she hadn't fought for it so much for her but for the others. There needed to be a place where life could return to normal, where those tired of fighting could rest and rebuild.
Sometimes Sevti wished she could just rebuild, rest, begin life anew. But there was still anger in her. An anger that she couldn't seem to let go. Anger over the invasion because of greed and intolerance. Anger over the giving away of their home. Anger over the loss of Abeo. There were times that she was certain that anger would never leave her. That it would seethe within her until it destroyed her.
But then there were times when the peace of the town surrounded her, when her talks with Paloma started making sense. When she spent time with Thyren or Gotham or the Priestess, she could forget the anger for a little while and be the Sevti that she was before this all began.
So often, she felt like she were two people: the angry, almost vengeful woman who had lost so much and the joyful, loving Panling who tried to live for her God and her people. Paloma told her she needed to meld the two together, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to do that.
She turned the corner and entered the new tavern. Even though it wasn't her parents' tavern - they had decided to return to Aveas before Sevti had secured the new town for the Panlings - it still had a home-like feel to the former tavern wench. She suspected that would always be the case, no matter what tavern she entered.
As she stepped through the doorway, she glanced quickly around for her tiny friend, Thyrennen. It wasn't difficult to find him - the tavern was relatively empty during this time of morningtide. She waved to the man behind the bar as she crossed to her friend, his cards spread across the table and a look of concentration on his face. The familiar sight brought a true smile to her face. The little halfling went nowhere without his cards, did nothing important without consulting them. And truth be told, he had helped guide her more than once with his readings. She'd come to trust him more than anyone in her life but Paloma.
She passed by an adhiel that she had seen once or twice, but had never been introduced to. His question about the water pipes came to her ears as she passed by, which brought to mind a brief memory of her own to spring forth. The relaxation of the pipes, the feeling of a warm embrace, the sense of peace. She blinked back the tears that came to her mind as she rounded the table, forcing the smile back to her face.
"What do the cards have to offer us today, Thyren?" she asked, pulling out the chair to take her own seat.
"First let's just unzip your religion down" - [i]Crazy[/i], Tori Amos
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
The sign proclaimed the inn to be the Nymph and Satyr. Even the unlettered would know it by the vivid picture of a buxom red haired lady being lasciviously embraced from behind by a randy satyr. The look in both their eyes promise a time of heated frolic.
Within the atmosphere was one of comfort. It was well used in the few months since its opening but it still smelled more of fresh paint and sawdust than spiced wine and pipe smoke. Tables and chairs lined the outside of the common room with plenty of cushions about the center for those that wish to be more comfortable. The long bar at the back was an homage to the bar they all remembered from the Pan's Touch: a young pretty sister to the grand old lady they left behind.
The Nymph and Satyr was never closed but this hour of morningtide was a quiet time. Several couples lay dozing in each others arms on the cushions were they lay down the night prior. The adhiel behind the bar greeted all three as they entered with a bright smile and a shushing finger across the lips with a nod of explanation towards the sleeping. Two young lasses stepped deftly and quietly about as they served drinks and light meals to people as they drifted in.
"Namaste, Finodborn Fae-touched." The barman greeted him with the title that had stuck to him like honey since a ballad about the battles had caught on. "White wine we have. In fact, I insist you be the first to try my spring wine." He disappeared behind the bar and came up with a wine bottle of green glass and a metal goblet. He removed the cork with a flourish and poured. The wine smelled of fruit and spice and several fresh berries floated within it.
To his second question, the barman smiled. "For you we have pipes." He assured him. "The tobacco is not what it was but the herbs in these woods are fresh and plentiful. I am sure we can find something you would enjoy."
One of the serving girls padded over to where Sevti and Thyrennan sat. "Bright morning to you both." She said sotto voce. "What can I get you?"
Within the atmosphere was one of comfort. It was well used in the few months since its opening but it still smelled more of fresh paint and sawdust than spiced wine and pipe smoke. Tables and chairs lined the outside of the common room with plenty of cushions about the center for those that wish to be more comfortable. The long bar at the back was an homage to the bar they all remembered from the Pan's Touch: a young pretty sister to the grand old lady they left behind.
The Nymph and Satyr was never closed but this hour of morningtide was a quiet time. Several couples lay dozing in each others arms on the cushions were they lay down the night prior. The adhiel behind the bar greeted all three as they entered with a bright smile and a shushing finger across the lips with a nod of explanation towards the sleeping. Two young lasses stepped deftly and quietly about as they served drinks and light meals to people as they drifted in.
"Namaste, Finodborn Fae-touched." The barman greeted him with the title that had stuck to him like honey since a ballad about the battles had caught on. "White wine we have. In fact, I insist you be the first to try my spring wine." He disappeared behind the bar and came up with a wine bottle of green glass and a metal goblet. He removed the cork with a flourish and poured. The wine smelled of fruit and spice and several fresh berries floated within it.
To his second question, the barman smiled. "For you we have pipes." He assured him. "The tobacco is not what it was but the herbs in these woods are fresh and plentiful. I am sure we can find something you would enjoy."
One of the serving girls padded over to where Sevti and Thyrennan sat. "Bright morning to you both." She said sotto voce. "What can I get you?"
[size=100]
Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself.
Shel Silverstein[/size]
Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself.
Shel Silverstein[/size]
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Gotham Devoue
- Civus
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Wed Oct 19, 2005 2:42 pm
- Location: Pan's Isle
- Contact:
The crusader had wandered around their new home for several days before he had really spoken to anyone. Gotham needed to find himself and with his retreat, that had helped immensely, he was ready.
Squeaker was stationed on his shoulder and his skin extensions ruffled around it's body like a tutu. The squirrel had found a niche in the mans body type by nestling in the nook next to his neck. He lifted his arm enough so he could pat the fluffly creature, and it chirpped for the recognition.
Gotham found the tavern by chance, if that's what one would actually call it. The white knight had never been into a tavern, nor had he ever drank. As the door closed behind him, he was engulfed in the darkness of the chamber, and had to let his eyes adjust before venturing into the building. His pupils dialated enough for him to view the surroundings, and he saw several sleeping, others eating, and a few friendly faces. His crisp blue eyes fell on a adhiel sitting alone, and then back to Sevti and the little halfling. His mind floated in darkness about what he was going to do in the coming days, but he still had hope buried in his heart.
Walking over to the table where the woman and child-like person sat he asked, "mind if I join you?" while pulling a chair out for himself.
Squeaker was stationed on his shoulder and his skin extensions ruffled around it's body like a tutu. The squirrel had found a niche in the mans body type by nestling in the nook next to his neck. He lifted his arm enough so he could pat the fluffly creature, and it chirpped for the recognition.
Gotham found the tavern by chance, if that's what one would actually call it. The white knight had never been into a tavern, nor had he ever drank. As the door closed behind him, he was engulfed in the darkness of the chamber, and had to let his eyes adjust before venturing into the building. His pupils dialated enough for him to view the surroundings, and he saw several sleeping, others eating, and a few friendly faces. His crisp blue eyes fell on a adhiel sitting alone, and then back to Sevti and the little halfling. His mind floated in darkness about what he was going to do in the coming days, but he still had hope buried in his heart.
Walking over to the table where the woman and child-like person sat he asked, "mind if I join you?" while pulling a chair out for himself.
Last edited by Gotham Devoue on Fri Apr 20, 2007 8:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Protect life... until death."
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
"Namaste," he replied to the barman, sitting at the bar. He spoke too slow to prevent the barman from running off, so he waited. He enjoyed watching the servant girls, as well as the peaceful time for himself.
"You're too kind," he said when the barman had returned. "It sure smells like the real stuff!" He tried to look as somebody who knows how to appreciate fine wines and tried it. Regardless how it tasted, he would of course compliment the brew. The degree to which this would require exaggeration -if at all- depended on the taste. It could go from "Hmmm." up to "I don't think the late Caesar himself has served me wine this great."
"...But I'd rather not have anybody address me that way. As said, I had nothing to do with whatever happened there. If you ask me, it was the Citadel reinforcements that saved us. And even if I was involved somehow, it would be good if nobody knew about it." He looked the barman straight in the eyes and resisted the urge to throw in a smug wink.
Barmen speak the barman tongue, and even though this place was not exactly in Oneist territory, it could be dangerous if this leaked out. So he had to keep people like this, who surely understood, friends. Luckily there hadn't been many witnesses. Who still lived. He apologized to Whimsy for denying the role of her people in the survival of the adhiel, but was sure she understood, wherever she was right now. He'd grown very fond of her.
"But the bar has turned out great," he continued in a lighter tone. "Nice counter, good staff and excellent sign," he said, subsequently knocking on the counter, demonstratively eyeing the waitresses and pointing vaguely in the direction of the luscious redhair with his thumb. "Not to mention drinks. The smell of the place isn't exactly that yet, but usage will surely fix that. And a pipe would definitely help," he added, searching his purse.
"I don't have that much money, but maybe I could make some music later on as a tip," he said, while putting a reasonable amount of money on the counter.
"And maybe these fine people are interested in joining us," he nodded in the direction of where Sevti, Thyrennan and the recently arrived Gotham were. He had heard a lot about Sevti, yet had never met her in person. The halfling looked remarkably in and out of place at the same time, but the third was of his greatest interest. To Finodborn, he smelled fishy. Perhaps this wouldn't be a day off after all.
"You're too kind," he said when the barman had returned. "It sure smells like the real stuff!" He tried to look as somebody who knows how to appreciate fine wines and tried it. Regardless how it tasted, he would of course compliment the brew. The degree to which this would require exaggeration -if at all- depended on the taste. It could go from "Hmmm." up to "I don't think the late Caesar himself has served me wine this great."
"...But I'd rather not have anybody address me that way. As said, I had nothing to do with whatever happened there. If you ask me, it was the Citadel reinforcements that saved us. And even if I was involved somehow, it would be good if nobody knew about it." He looked the barman straight in the eyes and resisted the urge to throw in a smug wink.
Barmen speak the barman tongue, and even though this place was not exactly in Oneist territory, it could be dangerous if this leaked out. So he had to keep people like this, who surely understood, friends. Luckily there hadn't been many witnesses. Who still lived. He apologized to Whimsy for denying the role of her people in the survival of the adhiel, but was sure she understood, wherever she was right now. He'd grown very fond of her.
"But the bar has turned out great," he continued in a lighter tone. "Nice counter, good staff and excellent sign," he said, subsequently knocking on the counter, demonstratively eyeing the waitresses and pointing vaguely in the direction of the luscious redhair with his thumb. "Not to mention drinks. The smell of the place isn't exactly that yet, but usage will surely fix that. And a pipe would definitely help," he added, searching his purse.
"I don't have that much money, but maybe I could make some music later on as a tip," he said, while putting a reasonable amount of money on the counter.
"And maybe these fine people are interested in joining us," he nodded in the direction of where Sevti, Thyrennan and the recently arrived Gotham were. He had heard a lot about Sevti, yet had never met her in person. The halfling looked remarkably in and out of place at the same time, but the third was of his greatest interest. To Finodborn, he smelled fishy. Perhaps this wouldn't be a day off after all.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
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Guest
"Miss Sevti!" Thyrennan piped out loud when the panling woman joined him and gave her a boyish beam. His cheeks reddened when he saw her looking down on his cards. It wasn't that he was ashamed of the cards but the thought of people looking at him oddly because of his cards made him squeamish. Looking down on the spread, he realized that he was being quite obsessive with his card and what the future will tell, perhaps, he should just listen to what Pooka advised him. "Nothing much, Miss Sevti." The halfling acolyte of fate replied with his piping voice. "Although," Thyren frowned as he took the card of Bard from the spread and pushed it towards the panling woman. "The spread showed me a new card. Very odd, indeed." His brown eyes looked up to her face.
"Oh, bright morning to you, Mister Gotham." The halfling piped again when the paladin joined them after a few flickers. With the passing of the months after the war, Thyren learned to accept that the human was not a Oneist, but a friend and that his fate was closely tied with the fate of Sevti as well. He was somewhat glad to know that after he leave Pan's Isle, the panling woman would still have Gotham beside her. "Yes, do join us. Miss Sevti and I are just talking. I run her spread once more this morning and the cards showed me something new." He pointed at the card of Bard.
"See this?" Thyren pointed at the card of the Crying Woman in the middle of the spread. "That's Miss Sevti." He explained and then pointed on the card of Halfling on its left. "That's me and that's you, Mister Gotham." He pointed on the card of the Broken Sword just under the Halfling card. On the right side of the configuration, there still was the card of the Unmarked and on top of that was the card of Winter and Spring. Slowly, he took the card of the Bard once more and placed it under the Crying Woman and just below it was the card of the Swanlady. "It's kinda confusing, I don't know, but this Bard card is somehow or will be connected with you, Miss Sevti, and perhaps, with you too, Mister Gotham." He tapped the Broken Sword just beside the card of the Bard.
"Oh, bright morning to you, Mister Gotham." The halfling piped again when the paladin joined them after a few flickers. With the passing of the months after the war, Thyren learned to accept that the human was not a Oneist, but a friend and that his fate was closely tied with the fate of Sevti as well. He was somewhat glad to know that after he leave Pan's Isle, the panling woman would still have Gotham beside her. "Yes, do join us. Miss Sevti and I are just talking. I run her spread once more this morning and the cards showed me something new." He pointed at the card of Bard.
"See this?" Thyren pointed at the card of the Crying Woman in the middle of the spread. "That's Miss Sevti." He explained and then pointed on the card of Halfling on its left. "That's me and that's you, Mister Gotham." He pointed on the card of the Broken Sword just under the Halfling card. On the right side of the configuration, there still was the card of the Unmarked and on top of that was the card of Winter and Spring. Slowly, he took the card of the Bard once more and placed it under the Crying Woman and just below it was the card of the Swanlady. "It's kinda confusing, I don't know, but this Bard card is somehow or will be connected with you, Miss Sevti, and perhaps, with you too, Mister Gotham." He tapped the Broken Sword just beside the card of the Bard.
Last edited by Guest on Sun Apr 22, 2007 2:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Gotham Devoue
- Civus
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- Location: Pan's Isle
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Taking a seat, Gotham's attention was deeply devoted to the cards. The crusader wasn't introduced to the cards until now, and somehow the man was fascinated by them and their controller.
"You know, Thyren, you should look into runes. I don't know much about any of it, but I've read that tarot is more about interpretation versus runes who show you a path. They're more accurate.. if you will. It's just a thought," he added.
"However, according to the cards you've already laid, it's quite precise. The bard card has to be Sevti, since she is the singer of the group," he said while looking at her. The white knight knew that she would remember what they did in the forest with the half giant, and more so that she aided them all. "The halfing card appropriate for you," reverting his attention to the little person before him. "The broken sword being myself..." he mentioned, but didn't devel into the conversation anymore. Gotham knew what the broken sword meant, and kept it to himself. The Broken Sword card fit the panling the best because his sword was metaphorically broken in the sense that he had betrayed his own people for the great good. The thoughts sped through his mind and even though he had saved several panlings for an untimely fate, he had still turned on the Oneist, which Gotham didn't know whether or not he was ever going to forgive himself for.
He let the notion pass through his mind like wind and recalled the adhiel sitting all lonesome. "I'll be right back," the man said before removing himself from his seat and heading towards that individual.
"Gotham," he said while sticking out his hand. "I'm Gotham. Finodborn is it? I've heard some information about you, from Allegra," the young man said with little peaked emotion. "Would you like to join us?" ending with a smile.
"You know, Thyren, you should look into runes. I don't know much about any of it, but I've read that tarot is more about interpretation versus runes who show you a path. They're more accurate.. if you will. It's just a thought," he added.
"However, according to the cards you've already laid, it's quite precise. The bard card has to be Sevti, since she is the singer of the group," he said while looking at her. The white knight knew that she would remember what they did in the forest with the half giant, and more so that she aided them all. "The halfing card appropriate for you," reverting his attention to the little person before him. "The broken sword being myself..." he mentioned, but didn't devel into the conversation anymore. Gotham knew what the broken sword meant, and kept it to himself. The Broken Sword card fit the panling the best because his sword was metaphorically broken in the sense that he had betrayed his own people for the great good. The thoughts sped through his mind and even though he had saved several panlings for an untimely fate, he had still turned on the Oneist, which Gotham didn't know whether or not he was ever going to forgive himself for.
He let the notion pass through his mind like wind and recalled the adhiel sitting all lonesome. "I'll be right back," the man said before removing himself from his seat and heading towards that individual.
"Gotham," he said while sticking out his hand. "I'm Gotham. Finodborn is it? I've heard some information about you, from Allegra," the young man said with little peaked emotion. "Would you like to join us?" ending with a smile.
Last edited by Gotham Devoue on Mon Apr 23, 2007 6:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Protect life... until death."
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
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Sevti
- Retired staff
- Posts: 738
- Joined: Mon Oct 03, 2005 3:15 am
- Location: Nashville, TN/Pan's Isle
- Contact:
Sevti welcomed Gotham to the table with a warm smile. Through the moons since the fighting had ended - and even before, to be honest - she had gained a healthy respect for the man and had come to count him among her friends. She had been grateful for his teaching her in the way of battle. It was something she'd hoped not to need again, but a skill gained was never wasted.
The petite woman listened to her tiny friend's explanation with interest. She stiffened slightly at the description of her as the crying woman. Tears are something I can't afford anymore, she told herself as Thyren went on. It does no good. And I've lost the things that mattered most to me. No, I don't see myself as the crying woman.
But Gotham's explanation of the Bard didn't feel right to her either. She sang, yes, but she would never describe herself in those terms. The Panling knew that Gotham thought more highly of her, that his mind would instantly be going back to the song she sang for Mnnaguth. But it still didn't strike her as right. She felt... more... yet less. She felt as though she didn't have a place.
Finodborn's comment, followed by Gotham's request for him to join them, sparked a touch of recognition and she smiled. "Gotham, I think he may be the Bard that Thyren's cards speak of. Maybe the connection is more immediate than long term, my friend. Maybe it means that we are the ones to join together for a morningtide meal." She glanced around the room thoughtfully. "Though I don't know who the swanmaiden is that would join us. I've never met one myself."
Turning her attention to Finodborn once more, she rose to greet him with a soft kiss. "Paloma has told me much about you, and still nothing at all. Please join us. I'd like to learn more."
The petite woman listened to her tiny friend's explanation with interest. She stiffened slightly at the description of her as the crying woman. Tears are something I can't afford anymore, she told herself as Thyren went on. It does no good. And I've lost the things that mattered most to me. No, I don't see myself as the crying woman.
But Gotham's explanation of the Bard didn't feel right to her either. She sang, yes, but she would never describe herself in those terms. The Panling knew that Gotham thought more highly of her, that his mind would instantly be going back to the song she sang for Mnnaguth. But it still didn't strike her as right. She felt... more... yet less. She felt as though she didn't have a place.
Finodborn's comment, followed by Gotham's request for him to join them, sparked a touch of recognition and she smiled. "Gotham, I think he may be the Bard that Thyren's cards speak of. Maybe the connection is more immediate than long term, my friend. Maybe it means that we are the ones to join together for a morningtide meal." She glanced around the room thoughtfully. "Though I don't know who the swanmaiden is that would join us. I've never met one myself."
Turning her attention to Finodborn once more, she rose to greet him with a soft kiss. "Paloma has told me much about you, and still nothing at all. Please join us. I'd like to learn more."
"First let's just unzip your religion down" - [i]Crazy[/i], Tori Amos
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
Giving a friendly nod to the bartender, he turned on his stool to shake the human's hand. He payed much attention to its touch, hoping it would tell him something. "Well met, Gotham. My name is Finodborn indeed, but I know no Allegra. Who might she be?"
He was not used to being the subject of social conversation, and in his current position, he didn't like to be either.
According to Panling customs, he embraced Sevti as she too came to greet him, kissing her on the cheek. "Everybody has told me much about you. But words are only words, aren't they?" he added with a small smile.
"It would be my pleasure to join you. I have been told there might be a pipe for us to share. Though Pan's Touch is no longer, I believe The Nymph and the Satyr is in very capable hands. Perhaps it will surpass the old tavern if the smell of novelty has made place for the smell of scents, smoke and good food."
He got of his stool and cautiously pulled another chair to their table. The cards naturally caught his attention, as well as the little fellow pondering over their meaning. "And well met to you too, friend," he said to
Thyrennan. I am Finodborn." Before sitting down, he hugged the halfling too, curious about how he would react and how he fitted in.
"The times, they are changing. Aren't they?"
He was not used to being the subject of social conversation, and in his current position, he didn't like to be either.
According to Panling customs, he embraced Sevti as she too came to greet him, kissing her on the cheek. "Everybody has told me much about you. But words are only words, aren't they?" he added with a small smile.
"It would be my pleasure to join you. I have been told there might be a pipe for us to share. Though Pan's Touch is no longer, I believe The Nymph and the Satyr is in very capable hands. Perhaps it will surpass the old tavern if the smell of novelty has made place for the smell of scents, smoke and good food."
He got of his stool and cautiously pulled another chair to their table. The cards naturally caught his attention, as well as the little fellow pondering over their meaning. "And well met to you too, friend," he said to
Thyrennan. I am Finodborn." Before sitting down, he hugged the halfling too, curious about how he would react and how he fitted in.
"The times, they are changing. Aren't they?"
Last edited by Finodborn on Tue Apr 24, 2007 5:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Finodborn found the wine to be a mix of sweet grape and spicy herb. The overall mix left the tongue to tingle slightly after a sip. The barman winked back when asked to keep his role in things quiet. "As you wish, Finodborn." The barman agreed. Though the cat was mostly out of the bag at least in the town of Seinor. The survivors of the war were not many but enough survived to tell their tales and a few knew the truth of things.
The barman beamed as Finodborn complimented his inn. "We have high hopes for it. Do not worry about price this day. It is my gift to you. Next time you can pay." He assured Finodborn with a chuckle and went off to fetch the pipe.
The serving girl withdrew from the table where Sevti and Thyrennen sat as they seemed more interested in their cards and the other patrons than in ordering anything. The Inn was hardly full enough to care about a table of non-drinkers. Besides, even if the Inn had been packed, Sevti earned her right to any table in the place for any reason.
The barman came bustling over with a large hookah style pipe in his hands over to their table. Not wishing to disturb the cards on the table, he placed it on the floor beside the table. "Should you all decide to partake, just call me back over to get everything ready." He then went back behind the bar.
The barman beamed as Finodborn complimented his inn. "We have high hopes for it. Do not worry about price this day. It is my gift to you. Next time you can pay." He assured Finodborn with a chuckle and went off to fetch the pipe.
The serving girl withdrew from the table where Sevti and Thyrennen sat as they seemed more interested in their cards and the other patrons than in ordering anything. The Inn was hardly full enough to care about a table of non-drinkers. Besides, even if the Inn had been packed, Sevti earned her right to any table in the place for any reason.
The barman came bustling over with a large hookah style pipe in his hands over to their table. Not wishing to disturb the cards on the table, he placed it on the floor beside the table. "Should you all decide to partake, just call me back over to get everything ready." He then went back behind the bar.
[size=100]
Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself.
Shel Silverstein[/size]
Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself.
Shel Silverstein[/size]
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Guest
"Runes?" Thyren's unkempt wave brown head looked up at human Paladin, his face keenly curious about what he had just mentioned. "I haven't heard of that..." He trailed off, frowned distantly and thought, perhaps someone in Oracle's Isle will be able to teach him about this Rune thing. He pocketed the information and decided he'll look into it when he has the leisure time.
But he cringed his small halfling nose at the Paladin's explanation of the cards, there was something off about it and the halfling priest couldn't decide if he was wrong or if Gotham was right. Thyren absentmindedly nodded his unruly head, his face still had the usual smudges as if he had been playing outside in the soil like a young, unruly boy, when Gotham left the table.
It was then that Sevti hit the correct mark and she was right. How could I have been so blind? Thyrennan berated himself, perhaps, he had been too focused with Sevti's future that he had forgotten that the cards and his vision could not see the actual time. His vision was outside of time and tomorrow or the next yahren may be the 'now' that he was looking at. "I think I'm getting confused and dizzy," Thyren murmured and Sevti could see his innocent brown eyes glazing over with too much welter of thought.
Finodborn was another matter. Sevti and Gotham seemed to know the handsome and graceful adhiel, but Thyrennan, though impressed by the adhiel, narrowed his brown eyes and suspiciously looked up at him, but it all changed when the adhiel hugged him. A small woot-ish chirp came from the halfling priest of fate and Chance and then gave the adhiel a boyish beam. "Well met, Mister Findoborn. I am Thyrennan of Brie." He offered him his small hand but he saw that it was smudged with dirt so with a sheepish smile, the halfling wiped it across his tattered, brown robe and then offered his hand again. "A pleasure to meet you! How do you do? I'm fine, thank you." It was always nice to be polite.
The adhiel's comment about 'time' was rather odd, and unsure if it was directed at him, the small halfling decided it was best to listen and remain silent, his father had told him to stay quite when grown up people were talking and Thyren could see they were all bigger than him. Slowly and unobtrusively, as not to take all the space of the table, the halfling took the cards that were spread across the table and shuffled them together. Noticing the barman, Thyrennan gave him a small smile and puzzled, looked down at the weird contraption that was laid on the floor.
"Miss Sevti..." Thyren whispered at the panling woman and slightly tugged her on her sleeve, not wanting to intrude with the conversation between grown-up people. "Miss Sevti," he whispered ever so silently again, looking sideways if the impressive looking adhiel was disturbed by his slight commotion. "What's that?" He pointed with his small finger at the thing on the floor that was placed by the barman.
But he cringed his small halfling nose at the Paladin's explanation of the cards, there was something off about it and the halfling priest couldn't decide if he was wrong or if Gotham was right. Thyren absentmindedly nodded his unruly head, his face still had the usual smudges as if he had been playing outside in the soil like a young, unruly boy, when Gotham left the table.
It was then that Sevti hit the correct mark and she was right. How could I have been so blind? Thyrennan berated himself, perhaps, he had been too focused with Sevti's future that he had forgotten that the cards and his vision could not see the actual time. His vision was outside of time and tomorrow or the next yahren may be the 'now' that he was looking at. "I think I'm getting confused and dizzy," Thyren murmured and Sevti could see his innocent brown eyes glazing over with too much welter of thought.
Finodborn was another matter. Sevti and Gotham seemed to know the handsome and graceful adhiel, but Thyrennan, though impressed by the adhiel, narrowed his brown eyes and suspiciously looked up at him, but it all changed when the adhiel hugged him. A small woot-ish chirp came from the halfling priest of fate and Chance and then gave the adhiel a boyish beam. "Well met, Mister Findoborn. I am Thyrennan of Brie." He offered him his small hand but he saw that it was smudged with dirt so with a sheepish smile, the halfling wiped it across his tattered, brown robe and then offered his hand again. "A pleasure to meet you! How do you do? I'm fine, thank you." It was always nice to be polite.
The adhiel's comment about 'time' was rather odd, and unsure if it was directed at him, the small halfling decided it was best to listen and remain silent, his father had told him to stay quite when grown up people were talking and Thyren could see they were all bigger than him. Slowly and unobtrusively, as not to take all the space of the table, the halfling took the cards that were spread across the table and shuffled them together. Noticing the barman, Thyrennan gave him a small smile and puzzled, looked down at the weird contraption that was laid on the floor.
"Miss Sevti..." Thyren whispered at the panling woman and slightly tugged her on her sleeve, not wanting to intrude with the conversation between grown-up people. "Miss Sevti," he whispered ever so silently again, looking sideways if the impressive looking adhiel was disturbed by his slight commotion. "What's that?" He pointed with his small finger at the thing on the floor that was placed by the barman.
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Gotham Devoue
- Civus
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"Just a panling," he casually said not mentioning the fact that she was almost raped and killed by a serial rapist. Conversations like that were much better spent out of public ear. Either way, this was going to be a pleasant day if nothing else.
"Touche," he volleyed to Sevti. "What card would you consider yourself then, my dear?" It was interesting to see the cards laid down by the young halfing and to then see them sitting at the table the handful of people had meandered to.
Gotham sat and awaited an answer all the while thinking. He thought about the connection between the adhiel who sat before him and Allegra. He wondered why Fin couldn't recall the female panling.
"Thyren, tell me. Why do you think I'm the Broken Sword card. What exactly is the meaning of the card?" he asked, focusing most of his attention on his little friend. Gotham could have guess why he was, but wanted another perspective, a bit more of an un-biased one.
"Touche," he volleyed to Sevti. "What card would you consider yourself then, my dear?" It was interesting to see the cards laid down by the young halfing and to then see them sitting at the table the handful of people had meandered to.
Gotham sat and awaited an answer all the while thinking. He thought about the connection between the adhiel who sat before him and Allegra. He wondered why Fin couldn't recall the female panling.
"Thyren, tell me. Why do you think I'm the Broken Sword card. What exactly is the meaning of the card?" he asked, focusing most of his attention on his little friend. Gotham could have guess why he was, but wanted another perspective, a bit more of an un-biased one.
"Protect life... until death."
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
--Leeloo, The Fifth Element.
Avatar by Ashari with stock photo of [url=http://www.myspace.com/jamesson]Jamesson[/url].
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Sevti
- Retired staff
- Posts: 738
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Sorry for the delay, all. I'm finally getting settled back after the trip and feeling like a human being again!
Sevti chuckled softly at Finodborn's words of words. "That they are," she agreed. "With a tendency to become greater than they should." Stories all that their place, she knew, but when she was the center of those stories... it wasn't the type of attention that the girl was used to.
She took her seat across from Thyren once more, listening happily to the introductions and conversation among the group. This is what felt right, felt like home. If only every day could be like this, she sighed mentally. Old friends and new, drink and pipes and satisfaction with life. Rather than the constant reminder of change.
It took a flicker for her to realize that Thyren was speaking to her and she turned her attention outward once more. She glanced in the direction her tiny friend pointed and smiled. "It is a water pipe," she explained. "Best when shared among friends. It contains some of the finest herbs that we Panlings know how to grow and are smoked to ease the mind and the sense, to help relax and enjoy. It sits in the center of the table and we each take our turn. Once you've finished your reading, we can call the barman back over to set it up for us." She certainly didn't want to rush her tiny friend from his calling, yet the thought of the pipe called to her. She'd had little time for any joyful pursuits of late.
While she let the little halfling work, she turned her attention to Gotham's request regarding her place in the cards. "I'm not certain," she answered truthfully. "I know that Thyren thinks me the Crying Woman and, while there's been a lot to cry about, I haven't had time for tears. Maybe I'm outside it all. Maybe I'm the table upon which each of you lie," she replied with an impish wink.
In truth, she knew that the Crying Woman was the card which represented her. She didn't cry. She wouldn't. But deep in her heart, there was still the pain that refused to leave. The emptiness and loss that she had endured this half-yaren since the invaders first came. She had tried to fill it with work, with conviction, with giving herself to the community that needed everyone so badly, but it remained this hole that nothing would fit. Nothing but a body that lay burned upon the ground in the middle of a war-torn street.
She pushed the thoughts aside harshly. This was a time of joy, not sorrow and self-reflection. There was a pipe to smoke and friends to enjoy. She would grieve later. Always later.
Sevti chuckled softly at Finodborn's words of words. "That they are," she agreed. "With a tendency to become greater than they should." Stories all that their place, she knew, but when she was the center of those stories... it wasn't the type of attention that the girl was used to.
She took her seat across from Thyren once more, listening happily to the introductions and conversation among the group. This is what felt right, felt like home. If only every day could be like this, she sighed mentally. Old friends and new, drink and pipes and satisfaction with life. Rather than the constant reminder of change.
It took a flicker for her to realize that Thyren was speaking to her and she turned her attention outward once more. She glanced in the direction her tiny friend pointed and smiled. "It is a water pipe," she explained. "Best when shared among friends. It contains some of the finest herbs that we Panlings know how to grow and are smoked to ease the mind and the sense, to help relax and enjoy. It sits in the center of the table and we each take our turn. Once you've finished your reading, we can call the barman back over to set it up for us." She certainly didn't want to rush her tiny friend from his calling, yet the thought of the pipe called to her. She'd had little time for any joyful pursuits of late.
While she let the little halfling work, she turned her attention to Gotham's request regarding her place in the cards. "I'm not certain," she answered truthfully. "I know that Thyren thinks me the Crying Woman and, while there's been a lot to cry about, I haven't had time for tears. Maybe I'm outside it all. Maybe I'm the table upon which each of you lie," she replied with an impish wink.
In truth, she knew that the Crying Woman was the card which represented her. She didn't cry. She wouldn't. But deep in her heart, there was still the pain that refused to leave. The emptiness and loss that she had endured this half-yaren since the invaders first came. She had tried to fill it with work, with conviction, with giving herself to the community that needed everyone so badly, but it remained this hole that nothing would fit. Nothing but a body that lay burned upon the ground in the middle of a war-torn street.
She pushed the thoughts aside harshly. This was a time of joy, not sorrow and self-reflection. There was a pipe to smoke and friends to enjoy. She would grieve later. Always later.
"First let's just unzip your religion down" - [i]Crazy[/i], Tori Amos
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
Tickle-fight champion.
[i]Avatar is At the Edge of the World by Electra[/i]
He looked at the halfling with renewed interest when the purpose of the cards became clearer to him. Although he had often observed fortune-tellers from the sidelines, he had never actually met any first-hand. "It is nice to meet you too, Thyrennan of Brie. What brings you to this troubled home of ours?" he said, while shaking his hand.
Gotham's answer told him little more. Yet the demonstrative nonchalance with which he dropped the subject made Finodborn suspicious. He had a strong feeling that there was more behind the name and this man connected to it. Was it a test of some sort? Contra-espionage maybe? He decided to lay low for now.
The halfling was a funny mix. Introverted and shy -Finodborn could sympathize- but at the same time wielding the authority to see the fate of those present. He had always thought of fortune-tellers as con-artists, but this modest halfling was either too shy to be a fraud, or an incredible actor. He looked at the cards and pondered over their value and meaning. Apparently there was debate. He grinned at Sevti's somewhat critical self-metaphor.
"Actually, I've heard that many of the herbs we enjoy in our pipes have been an integral part of the older tradition of divination. It is said that they allowed the Seers to see the wheel of fortune itself, as well as the spirits that inhabit the world. The required portion is said to be rather big, though. From those that claim to have tried, I've also heard that they mainly make you feel very sick when used in such quantities."
Gotham's answer told him little more. Yet the demonstrative nonchalance with which he dropped the subject made Finodborn suspicious. He had a strong feeling that there was more behind the name and this man connected to it. Was it a test of some sort? Contra-espionage maybe? He decided to lay low for now.
The halfling was a funny mix. Introverted and shy -Finodborn could sympathize- but at the same time wielding the authority to see the fate of those present. He had always thought of fortune-tellers as con-artists, but this modest halfling was either too shy to be a fraud, or an incredible actor. He looked at the cards and pondered over their value and meaning. Apparently there was debate. He grinned at Sevti's somewhat critical self-metaphor.
"Actually, I've heard that many of the herbs we enjoy in our pipes have been an integral part of the older tradition of divination. It is said that they allowed the Seers to see the wheel of fortune itself, as well as the spirits that inhabit the world. The required portion is said to be rather big, though. From those that claim to have tried, I've also heard that they mainly make you feel very sick when used in such quantities."
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
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Finley Ward
- Retired staff
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