Tally Dor

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The hour was late in the Stone Rose Tavern. Many of the townsfolk had already left for the night and most of the adventurers had turned gone upstairs to their rented rooms. Only a handful sat by the dying fire. The flickering of the flame caused the shadows to dance across the seated figures. The chair creaked as one of them shifted in their seats. They were all focused on one individual, an older man. It was one of the rare moments when the Storyteller had his hood lowered. Revealing a worn and wrinkled face with kind hazel eyes that looked as though they had glimpsed the world. His expression was neutral, but his tone was somewhat grave.

"Are you truly certain of this?"

The group nodded in unison as their leader spoke. An older wizard whose black beard rivaled the Storyteller's in length.

"It has all been but confirmed." He spoke with a tinge of fear in his eyes.

A long-exhausted sigh left the Storytellers lips as he sunk back into his chair.

"Fine... I will tell you what I know in the best way that I know how."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a far off kingdom across the sea. The King and his advisors had gotten a report that one of their massive cities in the mountain was slowly being abandoned. Which was a problem, because the city had a large fort that was meant to protect the city, but even it had become desolate and empty. They had sent multiple scouts and even a section of their army to investigate, but those that managed to return painted an even stranger picture. According to the townsfolk there was absolutely nothing wrong. The fort and many of the houses had always been abandoned. When pressed for information or shown evidence to the contrary, the townsfolk would continue to deny, and some would even visibly breakdown but would be unable to explain their distress. The scouts that had returned who had been in groups also expressed confusion on asked where their allies were. They spoke as if they had been the only ones sent.

After much deliberation, it seemed strength of arms was not the proper solution as the last group of five hundred soldiers had never returned. So, they sent the court mage, who was equipped with a powerful defensive medallion that was an heirloom of the kingdom. The mage named Jasper along with the help of several other wizards prepared a teleportation spell and as he stood in the center of the circle he vanished and reappeared in the center of the city. The journey that would have taken two months had been finished in an instant. Jaspers eyes widened as he noticed the circular amulet had begun to hum and slightly vibrate.

This was unexpected. It meant something was going on and the amulet was actively defending him against it. Holding the chain in his hand he could see the runes etched into the circle were glowing with blue light and were slowly rotating around the amulet. He frowned but looked up. He could see the fort in the distance, and much of the town stretched in front of him. The place seemed peaceful, as he could see townsfolk going about their day to day lives. Smiling, laughing, selling goods nothing looked out of place except for the emptiness of the it all. This town was a town that could easily have held over a hundred thousand people if one included the inhabitants of the fort.

There was nowhere near a hundred thousand people to be seen as he explored the town. He stopped in front of a rundown house and frowned as he pushed open the unlocked door. The inside of the house, though covered in a thin layer of dust was organized.

No signs of struggle. Nothing spoke of battle. He explored another twelve houses, and nothing changed or stood out to him. It was exactly as the few scouts that had come back spoke on. He was confused and had noticed the amulet was beginning to vibrate ever so slightly more, as he pondered his next course of action, he was stopped by a young woman with blonde hair.

"Kind sir! It is getting late and with most of our inns and taverns closed. I can't in good conscience let you be out here."

He smiled at her kindness and decided to take her up on her offer. Staying in one of these abandoned houses did not sit well with him. As they crossed over a few streets, they came to a modest cottage and the young woman knelt down by a small boy playing in the dirt and ruffled his hair. "You need to get on back to your mum, Steven." Steven giggled and ran to the house next door. After a quick meal, Jasper asked the young lady who he came to know as Mary some questions, but none of them proved fruitful.

According to her the houses and fort had always been abandoned. There was something strange going on here, but he could not place his finger on it. As he allowed himself to relax in the bed in the guest bedroom, he began to hear a strange lullaby in a language he could not understand, but it spoke of sleep, and he slowly drifted off to it not even noticing the medallion had begun to shake vigorously on his chest.

Jasper slowly opened his eyes, and his mind felt like it was deep in a quagmire. He slowly rolled out of bed and put his hands onto his head and groaned slightly. This brain fog was otherworldly, and he just felt dumb. It was then that one hand slowly drifteddown to the Medallion on his chest that he noticed it had stopped humming and vibrating. He grasped it and concentrated some of his mana upon it and it felt like something shattered, and a massive headache rattled his mind as he threw up on the ground before him. His mind was now clear, and the amulet was so hot it was almost burning his skin.

This was not good. Not good at all. Something had such powerful magic that it had put him under a spell and it was only because of the amulet that he was able to break free. He quickly bolted up and tried to find Mary, but the house was empty. After searching the house thoroughly and making sure she was not in he saw Steven the small boy outside playing in the dirt and went outside and knelt down beside him.

"Steven! Have you seen Mary?"

The boy glanced up towards him confused.

"Mary?" He asked. When Jasper nodded Steven spoke again. "I don't know any Mary's." The small child grinned "Is this some kind of new game? I love games!" Jasper's eyes widen and he spoke hurriedly changing the subject. "Have you seen anything weird lately?" He was grasping at straws and the child looked deep in thought for a few moments. "Well, there has been this really weird dwarf running around. He is always talking about silly things."

Stay Awhile and Listen.

Near the edge of an alley stood four children. Laughter was in the air, but it wasn't of the pleasant variety. It held a mocking tone to it as some jests were thrown in amongst the laughter. Three of the children were laughing at their friend who had tears in his eyes.

"Why are you all laughing!?" The mocked child cried. "They have been very helpful to us!" His bottom lip stuck out as he pouted.

The leader of the trio spoke. He was a head taller than the other two and it made sense for them to naturally try to suck up to him. "A priest of the light? Why would you want to waste your time being one of them?" His two little followers hadn't stopped laughing as their leader talked down to their friend condescendingly.

It was at this time that a deep voice disturbed the laughter and made all four of them jump. A hooded figure had stopped near them at the alleyway entrance.

"It is not wise to laugh at the Light young ones."

The taller child looked to the bearded newcomer. "It's nothing like that. We just..." But he was interrupted by the man.

"To wrongly mock a servant of the Light is to mock the Light itself." He paused as he gazed at each of the children in turn.

"Perhaps you feel this way because you think the town priest is old, wrinkly, and smells of old books?" The Storyteller smiled as he saw some of the children nodding. "Not all priests are like that. There are many professions that follow the Light." A chuckle escaped his lips as he continued. "In fact, faith can be a very powerful magic all of its own."

Finding a barrel, the Storyteller sat on it. "This reminds me of a great friend of mine I lost many years ago. A paladin. His faith allowed him to do something that should have been impossible...."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though he was getting on in years Sir Orrin was the grand paladin of the Order of the Lion. He was sent on a quest with a party of fellow adventurers to slay a great wyrm. An Elder dragon named Bryagh who had amassed himself an army of lesser dragons. It was truly a force that could topple nations. Their party was small but an elite unit that they believed could take down the dragons, because with the combined might of several nations had come together to create a magical artifact that would put all the dragons into an enchanted slumber that would allow them to finish off the dragons while they slept.

When the party of five came near the mountain that Bryagh lived the air was thick with black clouds and descending dragons. It was then that a tall and slender elf, pulled a golden flute from his pack and placed it to his lips. The music that came from the flute began to soar out into the air. Higher and higher then should have been possible as the magic of the top enchanters of several nations worked together in unison to weave its magic and it seeped into all of the dragons. Many of them crashing down into the earth leaving craters, while others landed on dragons that had hit first. The party was cheering. While it was nerve wrecking to see so many dragons piled on the ground, the hard part of the job was finished.

Or so they thought.

A massive roar shook the ground as a black dragon with a red underbelly that was the size of a small mountain dive bombed them from a cloud he had been hiding within. Bryagh had made his appearance, and he had managed to resist the flute. His wrath at losing his army was vile. He crushed two of the party members before they could even react to his appearance. Sir Orrin barely had time to focus the Light into a shield for himself as the massive tail struck him and sent him flying into a tree. The large tree splintered and fell as the paladin skidded across the ground, struggling to catch his breath. Sir Orrin's remaining allies didn't sit idly as their leader was sent away.

The archer was peppering the great wyrm with enchanted arrows, but most just bounced off its tough scales and were ignored. A quick snap of Bryagh's jaws left the party of three down to two. The orc warrior that had been sent was nothing but a pair of legs now. As Sir Orrin was finally able to stand, he noticed the archer flying through the air towards him. Her body had been ravaged by one of its great talons.

"Noooooo!" He cried as he knelt by the corpse of the archer hugging her.

"My darling..." He whispered, before rising up and pulling his blade from its scabbard. His first weapon, he had obtained after being chosen by the light all those years ago. He faced the dragon head on with a resolute expression and he began to pray out loud.

"Blade with whom I have lived,
Blade with whom I now die,
Serve Right and Justice one last time,
Seek one last heart of Evil,
Still one last life of pain,
Cut well old friend, and then,
Farewell!"

The black Wyrm laughed. A harsh bellowing sound that echoed for miles.

"Praying?" Bryagh mocked.

"Now die!!" He roared as a blue hot stream of fire drenched Sir Orrin. The force of the flames pushing the Grand Paladin back. It was mere seconds, but it felt like eternity as Sir Orrin withstood the ocean of flames and regripped his blade like a javelin and flung it with all his might. The white hot blade, on the verge of being turned into slag pierced Bryagh through the heart as it traveled through his body igniting the massive dragon within. His death throngs shook the earth and as the dust settled, their shockingly still stood Sir Orrin. Or rather.

What was left. Molten armor with baked bones.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Maybe you three would rather be a paladin then a priest?" He raised his eyebrows as the trio was quiet. While their friend who wanted to be the priest smiled. "That was cool, but I still want to be a priest."

The storyteller smiled and raised himself up ignoring his aching knees. Hopefully this would help mold the younger generation, the sacrifices of the old.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The snow spiraled down steadily. There were already several inches of it covering the ground and only more would fall as the day continued to wane. Several adventurers were following along the cobblestone paths in the town. They were all free of snow because of the genius of the mayor with the helping hand of a runesmith. He had commissioned the runesmith to inscribe a rune of warmth every so often that radiated enough heat to keep the snow from sticking to the ground and with nature of the cobblestone path the water would slowly seep in between the bricks.

The atmosphere in the town was rather joyous as some shops were already beginning to close early because the Yuletide season. Even the guards that kept the peace in the bustling city of Bradington were mostly smiles as they knew what awaited them once they got home tonight. The prospect of hot food and a loved one were enough to soothe even the most bitter of hearts. As the sun persisted to fall towards the horizon and darkness slowly crept into the city, many of the townsfolk found their way to warm homes.

However, there were many that were all going in a single direction. To a large tavern that was brightly lit and roaring with noise and laughter. Its massive oak doors decorated with carvings opened and a wave of heat and the smell of food poured out into the cold night as several entered into the building. A duo lowered their hoods as they found themselves a table and sat down taking in the sights of this place. One signaled with two of his fingers indicating he wished for two drinks. His girlfriend had her eyes focused on a decent sized gathering of people that were surrounding the crackling fireplace. She could hear a story over the din.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The ground shook as Rudolph the Red took the blow that was meant for Frosty the Fellow. The reindeer's knees were threatening to buckle out from under him, but he threw his head upward piercing Old Son in its putrid yellow eye and throwing the creature backwards as it bellowed in pain. Its eyeball was already beginning to regenerate, when the Wendigo's body was suddenly snatched up in the mouth of the Yule Cat who bite down on its prey, running to put distance between it and its friends. The Yule cat did its best to ignore its flailing body as it tried to free itself.

Frosty's body had been struggling to replenish itself from the snow around it, but the brief respite allowed him to more or less regain his shape as he steadied his friend Rudolph. It was then that they both heard the Yule Cat's mournful cry as they saw it being tossed aside. The Wendigo had torn itself free. Normally this type of monster would have been a pushover for the forces of winter, but Old Son had managed to steal the magical powers from Krampus strengthening it far beyond what should have been possible.

Old Son raised its massive bloody claw to deal a fatal blow to the Yule Cat when a chain of ice materialized around its wrist and yanked the creature backwards off balance. A loud crack was followed as a large wooden shaft struck the Wendigo across its face, the moose skull that was its face had a jagged crack running through it now. A deep guttural growl escaped from Old Son as he stared at the two new arrivals.

Icy Joe Chill was already weaving his hands as he conjured up more frost chains that attempted to bind Old Son. While Holy Nicholas was already readying his enchanted shepherd's staff to deliver another blow. Behind the two was running a massive man in red and in his hands...

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Honey....Honey!" The woman snapped back to attention as her boyfriend had been trying to get her attention.

"Sorry." She smiled awkwardly.

The server laughed. "Ohh don't worry about that. You would not be the first person to get engrossed in his stories."

Stay Awhile and Listen.

As the Storyteller sipped from his mug, one of the children in front. A small girl with dirty blonde hair and eager blue eyes spoke up to get his attention. He glanced her way and raised his eyebrows awaiting her to speak as he enjoyed the bitterness of his beverage.

"Can you tell us the story about the Hanging Tree?"

The Storyteller paused from his drink as his eyes seemed to look past the girl as he was deep in thought. There were many stories involving those accused trees, but almost none of them were for young children. After a few seconds recognition flashed in his eyes as he put the mug down looking at the young child who was grinning at him with a smile that had quite a few missing teeth in it.

He cleared his throat. "Are you talking about the Dryad and the Hanging Tree?"

The Storyteller asked the clarifying question. The child nodded her head enthusiastically as did several other children who knew the tale. The old man gave a small sign of relief, as this made him feel a bit better. He had briefly worried he had slipped up in his old age and told them a story they would have been better off not hearing.

He rubbed his calloused hands together as he put his thoughts in order as he began to weave his tale.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

While it is true that the Hanging Trees though rare are a truly dangerous existence, that will snatch up anything that comes underneath their crown to feast upon it and the massive ones that can encompass cities have vines and roots that can extend for miles upon miles. There was once a strange happening.

Something weird.

Something unexpected had happened.

Somehow a malicious Hanging Tree gave birth to a benevolent tree spirit. A dryad. A tall slender woman of oaken skin and emerald green leaves for hair. The Dryad borne of ignorance knew little of the origins of the Hanging Tree and yet it seemed the Hanging Tree had given most of itself completely to the nature spirit. It stopped attacking indiscriminately everything that wandered under its branches. Only taking what the Dryad allowed it to take.

The Dryad found herself sad because everything gave her tree a wide berth, refusing to come anywhere underneath its crown of leaves. As ages passed and the Hanging Tree and the Dryad grew. It was when flecks of autumn were beginning to grow within her leaves that something different occurred. Something quelled the Dryad's loneliness.

The tree that now rivaled a forty-story building in height warned her of approaching figures. She saw them clearly as she could see them through the senses of the tree if she wished. It was a band of about two dozen elvish children. Wearing clothing that was worn and tattered being chased by a group of human men. She had seen smoke on the horizon earlier that day but had paid it little attention because man and elf seldom wandered to deeply into her forest.

Concerned she had started to make her way towards the two groups when one of the slower children were grabbed and she witnessed through the eyes of the tree one of the men break one of the legs of the children that she felt her temper flare and like lightening vines from the tree began to lash out. Snatching the man and another that was close to him and they disappeared up into the leaves of the tree.

One of the men screamed realizing they had come to close to the cursed tree while chasing the children. Not a single human escaped. Some pulled beneath the ground, while others vanished like the first two that were grabbed. The dryad approached the children who were all huddled together on the ground. She kneeled before them and despite their terror and tears her wooden hand reached out and gently grasped the broken leg of the elf and a soothing warm green glow emanated from her hand as the bone reknit itself and became as good as new.

There was a slight issue in the beginning when the Dryad and the elves could not communicate with one another as she knew not their language, but they followed her back to the massive tree. It was true that they were terrified because of the many tales they had heard of the tree. The children had little choice in the matter because their town was now gone. The dryad would eventually learn that their town had been razed by slavers who were looking to take them away.

She taught them how to survive. She taught them how to use nature magic.

In return they named her Alda.

Alda never knew loneliness again. She transformed the massive Hanging Tree into a Tree City as the ages passed. What had started out as twenty-four elves had become thousands, and Alda protected the Elves and they in turn cared for her.

----------------------------------------------------------------

As he finished his last sentence, the Storyteller grabbed his mug and raised it to his lips before frowning slightly realizing the cup was empty. It was then that the barkeep came up with a fresh pot of coffee and refilled his mug. The older man smiled and was already reaching into his pouch to fish out the man a coin when the barkeep shook his head.

"Dat won't be necessary, your ability to keep these rascals out of trouble is payment enough." He glanced towards two kids in particular. A young boy and his older sister. Who were doing their best not to make eye contact, as it seemed neither of them had forgotten about the slammed door.

The Barkeep gestured away towards the children.

"Away with the lot of you! It'll be dark soon and you all need to be home before the Shadowman comes out!" He waved his fingers in an attempt to make a spooky ooooooooo noise as the children giggled and left the tavern save for his two that ran upstairs.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

I saw the three options and out of the three I was kind of torn about which to pick. I want this Thread to be a place for people to come and weave a tale. Not necessarily something one has to apply for. Yet jump in seemed...

Too wild and dangerous?

So I put it as closed, but unless I can figure out a way to change it. Consider this thread open to anyone who wishes to play the Storyteller or the other options given.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

The rowdiness of the Stone Rose tavern was in full swing as the patrons sat around the various tables. Some were singing songs of merriment. Others were quieter. Somber even. Some of the adventurers here were currently riding on a high from a successful journey. Others were dealing with grief in its various stages. The dangers of out in the wilds did not pull any punches.

The barkeep. A large hairy bear of a man was filling up tankards with ale and mead as well as taking coin, when the door of the tavern swung open with a slam as a gaggle of children ran in. Quite a few of them were the Barkeep's children as he was already hollering, but they pretended to be unable to hear him over the din of adventurers and drunks as they made their way to a roaring hearth. The man's eye twitched as he was ignored but only sighed as he saw where they all stopped. He couldn't get away from the bar right now but just wait. He knew they would not be moving for a while anyways.

The young children all ranging from eight to twelve years old had stopped in front of a cloaked man who was drinking whole heartedly from his mug of black coffee. He set it down when he noticed an audience had gathered around him. Not much could be seen of the man's face other than the large bushy beard that fell from the opening of his hood. The children all looked at him with eager expectant eyes. He even noticed more than one adventurer that had gotten quiet around him but seemed to be playing at not paying attention to what was going on.

He chuckled. His voice was gravelly but he spoke with elegance.

“Well children.” He looked at each of them.

“This seems to be a new record for you all at finding me when I come back into town.”

All of the children began to talk at once and the gentlemen threw his hands up shushing them with his gesture.

“Yes. Yes. I know you want a story.” He grinned.

“Well, you are in luck because I have just the tale for you.”

He leaned back in his chair and pulled a long wood pipe from his pocket and pushed a bit of snuff into it. He looked up at the children as he lifted his index finger of his other hand, and a small flame appeared at the end of it. The tiny orange flame danced about his fingertip before he lit his pipe with it. Taking a deep puff, he blew a smoke ring and looked at the children.

“Well. I was recently reminded of a very important fact for you future adventurers. Sometimes things go bad, but there is usually always a silver lining...”

---------------------------------------------------

There was once a large human kingdom that went by the name of Zeiss. They were often plagued by monsters and wandering beasts. Most were sent by their neighboring nation. A kingdom of united creatures. Most that we would recognize as orcs, hobgoblins, ogres, and the like! They were often in skirmishes and great battles as the two kingdoms hated one another. It was one such day that a fearsome ogre general rose up to power. He wielded a literal tree trunk of a mace and wore black plate armor. He amassed a great force and went out to destroy the kingdom of Zeiss.

The king of Zeiss gathered his army and had his son lead it. Not because the king was cowardly, but because the king was old in age and his son. Prince Geoff had been picked by a deity to receive its blessing. Geoff was blessed by the Goddess of Wind. Allowing the man to move with such swiftness it was like he was dancing around the battlefield, and he did not tire out as quickly as a normal man.

The two great armies met on the plains separating the two kingdoms. A massive battle ensured. Everywhere that Geoff went, the enemy was cut down with many not even realizing where death had come from. Yet, on the same token everywhere that the Ogre general went. Men was squashed or launched into the air crashing to the ground. Soon it became very obvious to the two that they needed to be the focus of the other.

The swift swordsmen vs the lumbering brute. Their battle alone waged for several hours. Long after all the humans and other creatures had perished in the aftermath of their fight. While the ogre general could not catch Geoff, Geoff could do little other then make the ogre suffer minor injuries. It was at the end of this fight that Geoff had put on a brave face and had his sword at the ready eyeing down the ogre, that the ogre placed the giant mace upon his shoulder and with his free hand balled into a fist he pounded it on his black breastplate three times.

Geoff was confused momentarily, but as the ogre general turned and marched away, he could do nothing. As Geoff's legs were already threatening to buckle out from under him. He had barely the strength to hold his sword up, while the ogre calmly walked away giving him mercy for the great fight.

The kingdom of Zeiss was spared, but the price was great.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The Storyteller leaned forward looking at each of the children, who had been quiet for quite some time. Some of the younger ones had excited expressions on their faces, while the older ones looked more thoughtful trying to piece together the implications of the story.

“The world outside respects the strong. It might not be fair, but it is true.” He closed his hazel eyes briefly before opening them again.

“I hope that each of you is able to grow and become powerful in your own ways so that one day you will have stories that can be told of you, by people like me.” The Storyteller grinned.

Stay Awhile and Listen.

I wish to bring to the role player guild something that might have been done before. Something that might be new! I will be honest when I say I have not a clue. I wish to create a space for short stories! I have a few rules, that while you don't have to follow. I think will keep it in a theme that will make it more enjoyable. The setting/theme if you will. Will be in a Tavern. The Stone Rose Tavern. I and potentially you will be in control of the Storyteller. Or maybe you will be a random adventurer who comes in and brings a tale to the Storyteller. Maybe you will mix it up even further by being a patron of the Tavern that comes in and gives the Storyteller a challenge. A prompt that causes the Storyteller to have to think of a story to write.

I feel like this has the potential to be fun and it will address a problem I currently have. Which is I need a creative outlet, but there is no current RP's here that stoke my interest, or they are currently full. Maybe it is a struggle that you have as well, and you have been itching to get something off your chest. Which is why I give you the power to be the Storyteller. My only rule is that your story must be between one to two posts because remember these are only meant to be short stories. Won't be much fun for other people if you monopolize the Thread with your epic twenty post story you know?

If anyone has any questions, comments, criticisms, or donations. I will take and accept them all!

Edit: The Join status says full but all are free to be the Storyteller.

A New Day; Cozy Fantasy Village Life

Are you or Mayor Lewis the Ugly Bastard in that NTR scenario?

@Zeroth

*sweats in old man*

ME?! No.....Never...

A New Day; Cozy Fantasy Village Life

I might be strange for saying this, but I do sometimes wish Marnie was a dateable option.

It totally has nothing to do with assimilating her ranching empire into my own. She has pretty hair and a nice personality.