The inside of the Candlekeep Inn bustles with activity as workers arrange chairs and hang seasonal decorations to fit the special theme of the event: Ghost Stories and Other Scary Tales!
One of the many colorful posters that has advertised the event is prominently affixed to the exterior door, and guidance signs are placed within Candlekeep to provide visitors with directions.
Guide Alexandra Keenan, garbed in a black gown with orange accents and wearing a pointy black hat, welcomes guests to the festival and thanks them for their attendance. She then opens the makeshift stage to anyone who wants to share their spooky tales.
(( It appears that DDOS is the scary monster that will prevent our special Halloween-themed event from taking place IG. If your PC would share a tale or just attend, then please post! Winner(s) will be chosen at the conclusion of the event, which will be tomorrow at this time to give people an opportunity to post. ))
After a short delay, a man seated in one of the corners of the room stands. The pale skin of his left cheek is marred by deep, old burn scarring. His black hair, tied back in a short pony tail, and dark eyes match his tunic and breeches. A cutlass hangs at his side. He walks silently towards the stage, the stiff motions suggesting reluctance overriden by resolve. A half empty glass of some spirit is in his right hand.
The man stands on the stage, legs apart. His left hand rests lazily on the pommel of his blade, and he sips his drink with the right. When he speaks his tone is almost conversational. The man's voice reflects his Damaran heritage, his origins in the Moonsea.
"My name's Talas. I've got a story for you, to keep a promise."
Without further ado, he begins.
"When I was a merchant I'd sometimes sail with the ships we chartered to carry our cargos."
The man's lips almost curl into a smile.
"I remember one was captained by a bold lass.
There's nothing she feared, no man nor beast, but there was a course she'd never plot. That was the seas around the Bell in the Depths.
She'd take us well out into the centre of the Moonsea rather than sail near that place, even if that meant sailing into the storms."
Talas shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips, seemingly offering this sea captain of his memory reproach.
"One night, on the Feast of the Moon, when we were toasting the dead, I decided I'd have it out with her. I asked why she never sailed those seas. "
The warrior looks about the room now, suddenly serious. "And she told me."
Silence hands in the air for a few moments before he continues the tale. His delivery is informal, but slow.
"She told how she'd met a sailor who'd once sailed those waters, an old man by now, but he'd never been to sea again. By a warm fire she sat with him and bought him a rum to hear the tales of his youth. Most of them were bright and happy, but when he came to talk of the bell in the depths, he changed, and suddenly looked his age.
He spoke of how he was on a ship that a wizard hard hired to take him out to where the bell can be heard. It was a bright afternoon when they put down their anchor and all the crew peered over the side."
Talas indicates the space in front of the stage before him, as if seeing the sunken city right there.
" There, they could see the spires of a sunken city, clear as day."
He continues, relating the tale in a conversational, unconcerned manner.
"The wizard was going to go down into the ruins with his apprentice, they had spells so they could breathe underwater. It was agreed they'd be back by sundown, and so the sailor and the rest of the crew got on with their duties. "
Talas pauses a moment. His words come now with some concern and he shakes his head.
"But the wizard and is apprentice weren't back even when the seas had turned the colour of blood from the setting sun, and the crew began getting restless. "
The silence draws on. All of a sudden, Talas flicks the rim of his glass, making a dinging sound.
"It was nearly dark when they heard the bell, ringing out from the sunken city. You can imagine that made a few of them crap their pants. "
The warrior looks about the audience, smirking at that. It fades just as quickly as it came, to be replaced by a frown - like the man is disturbed by what he relates.
"Then the mage came out of the water, a spell levitating him onto the deck, clutching something wrapped in cloth, something he'd stolen. He looked pale, terrified, and he shouted for the captain to weigh anchor and set sail. They asked where the apprentice was, and the mage just told them to sail. Fear got all the crew and the captain too, and so thats what they did.
As they were getting up speed, the lookout called man overboard, and they could hear that damn apprentice calling for help, then cursing them all for sailing away, before something pulled him under. "
His left hand, balled into a fist, descends swiftly, mimicing how fast the poor apprentice was dragged to his doom.
Talas' tone is laden with doom, quieter, slower still.
"Silently they sailed on, but after an hour the wind stopped just like that."
The warrior clicks his fingers.
"Dead calm it was, and silent as the grave."
He is silent, letting it drag on uncomfortably.
Then he flicks his glass once more. Dink.
His voice grows urgent, hurried compared to before. Its almost like he's trying to get it all out in time.
Perhaps this change in cadence was planned, and that is why he spoke slowly before.
"Until they heard the bell ring again, and the first crewman screamed, dead hands pulling him overboard.
The sea came alive, but with the drowned dead, crawling overboard to take the living down to join them beneath the waves.
Men and women screamed as they fought to free themselves from dead arms, or whimpered in terror. It didnt matter, they were taken all the same.
The captain screamed orders to fight back even as dead hands clasped round his throat.
The wizard though, who'd got them into all this, he just started to cast a spell.
By instinct, the old sailor grabbed onto him as the spell was finished, and found himself appearing in the streets of Mulmaster."
Talas stops. He looks angry, and spits out the next words.
"The damned wizard had left the others to their fate, whatever it was."
The warrior's contempt doesn't leave him as he continues speaking about the mage.
"When he saw the sailor with him, he paid him off to keep silent. No one must know, he said, about what he'd stolen. He promised to pay the man even more, each year, every year on the Feast of the Moon for his silence.
The old sailor agreed to it. He had no intention of getting on a boat again. Suited him. "
He shrugs at this. Its clear he does not blame the sailor.
"That next year he came back to the wizards house, and the sly bastard let him in. Of course, the bag of gold was light, the wretch tried to trick him, but the old sailor wasn't having it. The wizard told him to wait, and went upstairs to get more gold. So he said.
So the old sailor waited. "
The silence drags on for several breaths before Talas once more flicks his glass twice. Dink. Dink.
"Its then that he heard the bell ring; once....twice. He darent move, terror gripping him. "
Talas suddenly stamps his foot twice, quickly.
"There was a knock on the window."
The warrior looks towards one of the windows slowly, purposefully. He addresses the window, the calm tone belying the content of the words.
"When he looked round there was a face there, staring in with cold, dead eyes. It was pale and drowned, but sure as the bitch queen it was the wizards apprentice. "
Talas looks back to the audience, speaking quickly and directly.
"The old sailor didn't hang about. He ran, out the back, but he heard the front door fly open and footsteps in the hall he'd been in as he fled.
The wizard, well, he went missing after that night. They said his house was ransacked but nothing stolen, at least, nothing that anyone knew about. "
The warrior's expression is laced with some satisfaction when he speaks of the wizard going missing. Just deserts, it seems.
It passes, though, as he moves on. Replaced with a sadness.
"Except the old sailor knew.
That old sailor, he ended the tale by telling that bold captain who told me this tale that he still heard that bell, every Feast of the Moon, ever since that night. He had real fear in his eyes, saying it was getting closer and closer ever year, and that the drowned dead were going to come for him too."
He smirks, briefly.
"She laughed it off."
The smirk is wiped off his face.
"But when she went by the same tavern next year, the old sailor was gone. Disappeared, the barkeep said.
No one knew where."
Talas is silent, and then he takes a stiff drink, emptying what remains in his glass.
"I didn't question our sailing routes after hearing that."
With that, he descends from the stage, heading for a refill.
Don't be angry, Patroclus, if you learn -
even though you're in Hades - I gave Hector back
to his father for a worthy ransom
But I shall give a proper share to you.
*There is movement from the back of the room and a frightened young girl who has seen maybe ten summers, reluctantly steps forward. She hesitates a moment before beginning.*
"My sister wishes that I speak this poem."
Dark tendrils of despair
spread across the land
Twisting
clawing
Reaching until all
the realm
withers in her clutches.
Women and children,
Men and kings alike,
all become victims
to our sister of the night.
She waits silently in the dark,
and the filth,
waiting for you to drop your guard.
The beast is hungry.
the beast will be fed.
It cannot be defeated,
It cannot be slain.
You will live your lives in fear
of the demise
that waits around the corner.
All of you will die,
or be tainted
Darkness
in the form of mercy
Death knows no prejudice
knows no race
only hunger.
Will the darkness ever end?
Will her wrath ever be lifted?
Will the slop of your miserable lives
ever be washed clean?
Your fate now belongs to a God of long ago.
Her kingdom she will reclaim.
There is no other left to Save you.
To seek her mercy,
Bend the knee.
As for some,
that chance has past.
Examples will be made.
"Wirg
An famous Orc who steals from humans. He has many incarnations and is known around the world as the best Orc thief.
Wirg is the best thief." http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Wirg DM_Bloodlust:"Raptors never give RP's out."
Alexandra smiles and claps for each storyteller once he or she concludes the tale. "What wonderful entries!" she remarks. "Would anyone else like to share a tale before I call for a vote and award the prize?"
After waiting for a time to see if anyone else wishes the stage, the Guide of Candlekeep continues. "Seeker Herran Hymn is ineligible to win the prize, as he is a part of Candlekeep," she begins. "Thus, since there are only two eligible storytellers, I am pleased to say that both of them will claim a prize of ten bags!"
She smiles and claps for Talas and the unknown girl. "Congratulations!"
Once the applause has quietened, Alexandra speaks again. "Gratitude to everyone who has attended and participated! The stories shared today will soon be available in the public section of the library."
The young woman motions towards the nearby bar and kitchen area. "Please enjoy yourselves!" she implores as the official event draws to its end.
Talas seems surprised at hearing his name called out, or perhaps he is surprised at the prize money. Pleasantly so. He would nod his head towards the guide in recognition of the accolade. As the applause dies down, he would move to try and find the little girl who read out her poem.
Don't be angry, Patroclus, if you learn -
even though you're in Hades - I gave Hector back
to his father for a worthy ransom
But I shall give a proper share to you.
//Only saw now that audience could post too! Adelaide did say she'd be there//
A strange looking woman, almost otherworldly, mostly due to the tattoos that cover most of the surface of her skin, sits on a chair listening to the stories told. Her hands move as words are spoken, working on a piece of embroidery on her lap. Anyone looking closer, would see it is a green and yellow bird being worked on.
Talas' and Herran's stories visible delight Adelaide. Recognition is seen on her face half-way through Talas' story. Pleasant sounding laughter leaves her lips at the end of Herran's story.
Her hands paused their needlework when the young girl stood up to share her story and Adelaide listened more attentively. At the end of it, a gentle and warm smile was sent to the girl and the story was awarded the same amount of applause as the others before it. There is an attempt to mask discomfort.
When the winners are announced, Adelaide looks happy for Talas and the girl. Her amber eyes catch Talas moving to approach the girl and she returns to her needlework with calm.
Power is the most persuasive rhetoric. Friedrich von Schiller
*The frightened unknown girl, would try to slip away if allowed. She would refuse any reward or drink offered as if it were poison. Unless she is stopped by Candlekeep guard she would move at a brisk pace towards the gate.*
"Wirg
An famous Orc who steals from humans. He has many incarnations and is known around the world as the best Orc thief.
Wirg is the best thief." http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Wirg DM_Bloodlust:"Raptors never give RP's out."
Winner(s) will be chosen at the conclusion of the event, which will be tomorrow at this time to give people an opportunity to post. ))
