Greetings Fellow Britannians!
As I was otherwise engaged last Friday night, I found myself with no information as to the outcome of that nights doings. In search of anyone who had gone, I put out the word and set off to find those who had a story to tell. I traveled and chatted, chatted and traveled. Unfortunately, the majority of Napa's citizens met my questions with blank stares, a few grunts, and several "It was a right fine evening!" None had much more to say. No lengthy tales, no details.
Dismayed, I sulked my way to the nearest tavern in Britain. Spotting an empty stool, I sat down heavily and stared through my blank parchment until my back ached and my eyes were blurring. Goodness, what was I going to do?
It was some time before a small child bumped my shoulder and gave me a toothy grin.
"For you Ma'am!" His outstretched hand held a roll of parchment tied with a red ribbon. He tossed it haphazardly onto the table.
"Umm, Thanks?" I replied, confused.
The boy giggled, and skipped quickly out the door. Blinking, I turned back to the scroll, wondering what it was. Tilting it a bit towards the candle light, I noticed a separate square of paper looped through the ribbon. Someone had written there in a fine hand.
~Heard you were looking for a tale.~
Just that. Nothing more. Curious, I slipped off the ribbon and quickly slid the roll to the bottom, looking for a signature. Yes, there it was! Suddenly I found myself grinning much the same as the deliverer. It would seem that Napa's most notorious scoundrel, King Fisher, had answered my plea. I copy his tale to you, written by his own hand.
Equine Tears
So you want me to drudge up a tale of the events that occurred on the last bloody evening?
Swipes an ale from the cobbler counting out his daily earnings at the bar, too oblivious to notice.
Chuckles to himself, Gotta love trammel. Nobody sees me coming. Well now, where shall I begin? It's a dramatic story for sure, filled with hands in pockets (namely my hands), love, loss (their loss), and a whole lotta running.
It was a dull dreary day; the sky was as gray as a fresh death shroud. I woke in a pool of my own drool, on my favorite bar stool, in the Cat's Lair bar. Groggy, with a head feeling like it was beat on by a pair of Ettin twins, I staggered outside. Cheering and yelling could be heard in the distance and was not complimenting my predicament. I grabbed some scruffy child running past.
Boy, what day is this?!
Day Sir? Why its Friday and there is some goings on at the castle!
Well then I guess we should be off then eh? Giving the kid a wink and patting him on the shoulder, sticking an ale covered gold piece to his tunic as he took off ahead. Good, reliable information is worth more than any precious metal. While searching for a rune to the castle in my pack with one hand, I guzzled some disgusting hangover remedy. In the midst of swearing to never drink again, I was transported to the castle.
Ah, the castle. A place of beauty, wonders, and home to a large contingent of Royal Guards. On arrival I stuck to the shadows like dung to a clean boot and made my way to the front of the crowd. Just as I hit the front of the seething throng, none other than the hard eyed Detective Jayden Marcus took to the podium. I was confident in my ability to remain unseen, but still double checked my items of invisibility just to reassure myself. I don't like detectives, especially ones in flamboyant gold capes.
Jayden began his usual detective rant, about how smuggling things into Britannia was bad and that the good people of the Royal Guard should step up to stop them by any means necessary. I wasn't really listening until he mentioned that the smugglers were transporting items of importance through Felucca. My ears perked up immediately.
Check the shrines of Felucca for evidence of smugglers and begin fortifying your positions.
Well, that's all I needed to hear and zoom, off like a Paragon Mongbat with my head on fire, I began scouting shrines. Chaos... nope, Valor... nope, Justice... hmm, lots of action and people dying around this shrine but it just didn't have the Smugglers feel. Off again as fast as my ill tempered llama (his name is Bill) could carry me. To compassion! I cried to the sky above, only to be met with nothing but eerie silence. I began pacing in circles talking with Bill.
Bill! If I was a smuggler, and maybe I as well ought to be, where would I go? Bill spat on a scorpion scurrying by. Aha! Eureka! Cracks Knuckles. Good idea Bill ol' chap, to Compassion!.
I arrived at Compassion, which was mildly quiet; a few other scouts were scurrying about according to my keen tracking skills. I began searching the area for any sign of Smuggler activities. The female healer Glenda gave a mean whirlwind when I attempted to search under her robe.
Just checking Ma'am, strict Royal Guard business!
She threatened to call the guards so I slipped away peacefully. No need for more paperwork right? I continued my search to the South East of the gate where lo and behold, a greenish-blue moongate appeared! I dismounted Bill and sent him to go feast on a mushroom circle or two and begin lurking and skulking about the moongate. Just as I was about to enter the moongate, (out of sheer curiosity), suddenly a red moongate opens directly behind me. Murderers from LOAO and other guilds began swarming out like locusts. They devoured every living thing in sight. If it once breathed, it breathed no more. Except me of course, I stealthily slipped away momentarily while innocents were being slaughtered.
Shrugs. Meh, what can ya do?
Out of the corner of my eye I see a sight that didn't seem quite right. A Paragon Unicorn with a team of Paragon Pixies flitting about. In the midst of being swarmed upon by the denizens of good, I misjudged my surroundings and ran smack into an invisible wall! Now being a person of Questionable dealings, these so called good creatures didn't exactly enjoy my presence, and now, being visible to them and the murderers, didn't help my situation. So I did what any thief facing a crowd of murderous people and Unicorns, I ran as fast as my shape shifting, wolf legs could carry me.
I ducked, I weaved, and danced around a few bolts and arrows, all the while attempting to get back into the stealthy shadows. Then I ran out of the most precious thing a running man could run out of, land. Pinned in on all sides with nothing but the ocean blue in front of me, I turned to my pursuers hoping my mad flight gave the chance for others to loot a precious item (so I may rescue it from them later). I then did what any person would do stuck full of arrows, with burnt hair, facing down a mage with lightning crackling around his fingertips.... I died.
Ahh death, a thief's waiting room full of peace and quiet, a place free of worry. I began sauntering back to the shrine, past the self righteous Blues, past the murdering Unicorns and their Red friends, onto the cool stone platform, and touched the ankh. *Ding!* Round 2. Upon resurrection I immediately took to the shadows and donned my gear. It was an all out war now, Blues attacking Reds attacking Unicorns attacking me. Sigh. No love from the Fey. I ran into the midst of the Unicorns, and like a customs check at a guard crossing, I went through that Unicorn for items.
Grabbing a unique red parchment, I ran off again. This time no longer followed by the enemy and only leaving behind a severely upset Unicorn in my wake. I quickly recalled to the bank of Cove and banked my ill gotten goods, reloaded my supply of heal potions, and teleported back to the battle.
I arrived just as a new Unicorn burst from it hiding place with its crew of Fey cronies. I ran straight at the Unicorn searching it madly as the war continued around me. The Pixies gasped in horror and vomited, the Unicorn neighed in protest, as I rummaged through its hidden treasures with unbridled enthusiasm.
Aha! Score two for the grey guys! I proclaimed while running through the woods like a madman holding my newly acquired parchment at a distance. (Come on! Did you see any backpacks around their necks? Where do you think they hide all the treasure?!) Banking my goods (again), I stormed back to the battle zone.
Upon returning some guy in a fancy cloak jumps out at me. Detective Marcus! He goes on saying that some of the smugglers who were attempting to enter the gate, made it, while others limped off into the woods, crying. No idea why. I gingerly stepped over decimated Unicorn corpses and decapitated Pixies to receive my handshake of a job well done from none other than a thief's worst enemy, a Royal Detective. As he reached the hand out I tripped and slid my hand into his backpack relieving him of a pair of Brightsight lenses (Ha! couldn't resist). He failed to notice immediately as I dashed away thanking him for the opportunity to serve the crown. Till we meet again Detective! Hah!
Hah! So what did ya think? Magical? Heroic? Romantic even? Picking his teeth with a dagger, he stashes a couple of sausages from the table into his pockets, exciting the bar without paying. (He's a thief what you gonna do?) Leaving a red parchment on the table with a note written on the back:
I would like to thank the following people who assisted in my thefts.
Jimmy Dean - for crucial heals at crucial moments
Hon - for running blocker and bait on steals
Elerose - for covering my escape
Twisted Sister- for being such a terrible shot.
Darklust - for giving up on the chase.
And for Sangria and Detective Marcus, for without their permission, I wouldn't have done this legally!
King Fisher
I am sorry to have missed the excitement, though I couldn't be more pleased with the above tale. A special thanks to King Fisher for taking the time to write his account. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did!
Best Gaming Wishes,
Salya Sin
More...
As I was otherwise engaged last Friday night, I found myself with no information as to the outcome of that nights doings. In search of anyone who had gone, I put out the word and set off to find those who had a story to tell. I traveled and chatted, chatted and traveled. Unfortunately, the majority of Napa's citizens met my questions with blank stares, a few grunts, and several "It was a right fine evening!" None had much more to say. No lengthy tales, no details.
Dismayed, I sulked my way to the nearest tavern in Britain. Spotting an empty stool, I sat down heavily and stared through my blank parchment until my back ached and my eyes were blurring. Goodness, what was I going to do?
It was some time before a small child bumped my shoulder and gave me a toothy grin.
"For you Ma'am!" His outstretched hand held a roll of parchment tied with a red ribbon. He tossed it haphazardly onto the table.
"Umm, Thanks?" I replied, confused.
The boy giggled, and skipped quickly out the door. Blinking, I turned back to the scroll, wondering what it was. Tilting it a bit towards the candle light, I noticed a separate square of paper looped through the ribbon. Someone had written there in a fine hand.
~Heard you were looking for a tale.~
Just that. Nothing more. Curious, I slipped off the ribbon and quickly slid the roll to the bottom, looking for a signature. Yes, there it was! Suddenly I found myself grinning much the same as the deliverer. It would seem that Napa's most notorious scoundrel, King Fisher, had answered my plea. I copy his tale to you, written by his own hand.
Equine Tears
So you want me to drudge up a tale of the events that occurred on the last bloody evening?
Swipes an ale from the cobbler counting out his daily earnings at the bar, too oblivious to notice.
Chuckles to himself, Gotta love trammel. Nobody sees me coming. Well now, where shall I begin? It's a dramatic story for sure, filled with hands in pockets (namely my hands), love, loss (their loss), and a whole lotta running.
It was a dull dreary day; the sky was as gray as a fresh death shroud. I woke in a pool of my own drool, on my favorite bar stool, in the Cat's Lair bar. Groggy, with a head feeling like it was beat on by a pair of Ettin twins, I staggered outside. Cheering and yelling could be heard in the distance and was not complimenting my predicament. I grabbed some scruffy child running past.
Boy, what day is this?!
Day Sir? Why its Friday and there is some goings on at the castle!
Well then I guess we should be off then eh? Giving the kid a wink and patting him on the shoulder, sticking an ale covered gold piece to his tunic as he took off ahead. Good, reliable information is worth more than any precious metal. While searching for a rune to the castle in my pack with one hand, I guzzled some disgusting hangover remedy. In the midst of swearing to never drink again, I was transported to the castle.
Ah, the castle. A place of beauty, wonders, and home to a large contingent of Royal Guards. On arrival I stuck to the shadows like dung to a clean boot and made my way to the front of the crowd. Just as I hit the front of the seething throng, none other than the hard eyed Detective Jayden Marcus took to the podium. I was confident in my ability to remain unseen, but still double checked my items of invisibility just to reassure myself. I don't like detectives, especially ones in flamboyant gold capes.
Jayden began his usual detective rant, about how smuggling things into Britannia was bad and that the good people of the Royal Guard should step up to stop them by any means necessary. I wasn't really listening until he mentioned that the smugglers were transporting items of importance through Felucca. My ears perked up immediately.
Check the shrines of Felucca for evidence of smugglers and begin fortifying your positions.
Well, that's all I needed to hear and zoom, off like a Paragon Mongbat with my head on fire, I began scouting shrines. Chaos... nope, Valor... nope, Justice... hmm, lots of action and people dying around this shrine but it just didn't have the Smugglers feel. Off again as fast as my ill tempered llama (his name is Bill) could carry me. To compassion! I cried to the sky above, only to be met with nothing but eerie silence. I began pacing in circles talking with Bill.
Bill! If I was a smuggler, and maybe I as well ought to be, where would I go? Bill spat on a scorpion scurrying by. Aha! Eureka! Cracks Knuckles. Good idea Bill ol' chap, to Compassion!.
I arrived at Compassion, which was mildly quiet; a few other scouts were scurrying about according to my keen tracking skills. I began searching the area for any sign of Smuggler activities. The female healer Glenda gave a mean whirlwind when I attempted to search under her robe.
Just checking Ma'am, strict Royal Guard business!
She threatened to call the guards so I slipped away peacefully. No need for more paperwork right? I continued my search to the South East of the gate where lo and behold, a greenish-blue moongate appeared! I dismounted Bill and sent him to go feast on a mushroom circle or two and begin lurking and skulking about the moongate. Just as I was about to enter the moongate, (out of sheer curiosity), suddenly a red moongate opens directly behind me. Murderers from LOAO and other guilds began swarming out like locusts. They devoured every living thing in sight. If it once breathed, it breathed no more. Except me of course, I stealthily slipped away momentarily while innocents were being slaughtered.
Shrugs. Meh, what can ya do?
Out of the corner of my eye I see a sight that didn't seem quite right. A Paragon Unicorn with a team of Paragon Pixies flitting about. In the midst of being swarmed upon by the denizens of good, I misjudged my surroundings and ran smack into an invisible wall! Now being a person of Questionable dealings, these so called good creatures didn't exactly enjoy my presence, and now, being visible to them and the murderers, didn't help my situation. So I did what any thief facing a crowd of murderous people and Unicorns, I ran as fast as my shape shifting, wolf legs could carry me.
I ducked, I weaved, and danced around a few bolts and arrows, all the while attempting to get back into the stealthy shadows. Then I ran out of the most precious thing a running man could run out of, land. Pinned in on all sides with nothing but the ocean blue in front of me, I turned to my pursuers hoping my mad flight gave the chance for others to loot a precious item (so I may rescue it from them later). I then did what any person would do stuck full of arrows, with burnt hair, facing down a mage with lightning crackling around his fingertips.... I died.
Ahh death, a thief's waiting room full of peace and quiet, a place free of worry. I began sauntering back to the shrine, past the self righteous Blues, past the murdering Unicorns and their Red friends, onto the cool stone platform, and touched the ankh. *Ding!* Round 2. Upon resurrection I immediately took to the shadows and donned my gear. It was an all out war now, Blues attacking Reds attacking Unicorns attacking me. Sigh. No love from the Fey. I ran into the midst of the Unicorns, and like a customs check at a guard crossing, I went through that Unicorn for items.
Grabbing a unique red parchment, I ran off again. This time no longer followed by the enemy and only leaving behind a severely upset Unicorn in my wake. I quickly recalled to the bank of Cove and banked my ill gotten goods, reloaded my supply of heal potions, and teleported back to the battle.
I arrived just as a new Unicorn burst from it hiding place with its crew of Fey cronies. I ran straight at the Unicorn searching it madly as the war continued around me. The Pixies gasped in horror and vomited, the Unicorn neighed in protest, as I rummaged through its hidden treasures with unbridled enthusiasm.
Aha! Score two for the grey guys! I proclaimed while running through the woods like a madman holding my newly acquired parchment at a distance. (Come on! Did you see any backpacks around their necks? Where do you think they hide all the treasure?!) Banking my goods (again), I stormed back to the battle zone.
Upon returning some guy in a fancy cloak jumps out at me. Detective Marcus! He goes on saying that some of the smugglers who were attempting to enter the gate, made it, while others limped off into the woods, crying. No idea why. I gingerly stepped over decimated Unicorn corpses and decapitated Pixies to receive my handshake of a job well done from none other than a thief's worst enemy, a Royal Detective. As he reached the hand out I tripped and slid my hand into his backpack relieving him of a pair of Brightsight lenses (Ha! couldn't resist). He failed to notice immediately as I dashed away thanking him for the opportunity to serve the crown. Till we meet again Detective! Hah!
Hah! So what did ya think? Magical? Heroic? Romantic even? Picking his teeth with a dagger, he stashes a couple of sausages from the table into his pockets, exciting the bar without paying. (He's a thief what you gonna do?) Leaving a red parchment on the table with a note written on the back:
I would like to thank the following people who assisted in my thefts.
Jimmy Dean - for crucial heals at crucial moments
Hon - for running blocker and bait on steals
Elerose - for covering my escape
Twisted Sister- for being such a terrible shot.
Darklust - for giving up on the chase.
And for Sangria and Detective Marcus, for without their permission, I wouldn't have done this legally!
King Fisher
I am sorry to have missed the excitement, though I couldn't be more pleased with the above tale. A special thanks to King Fisher for taking the time to write his account. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did!
Best Gaming Wishes,
Salya Sin
More...
