Songs Along The River

Member created stories, poems, & other creative work.
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Mick
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Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

Before a varied and, at times, rambunctious crowd of patrons at the Angler's Inn across from the High Hold Keep, a young woman made a quiet, but impressive entry into the taproom and began performing. Her song and dance were enjoyed by most, especially when she took a blade in hand and offered a dance that folk described both precise and erotic, if such were possible.

The Point My Blade Makes

Stepping into the crowd
I’ve found
Can be taking every chance
For not all the action
Is welcomed distraction
Not every partner romanced

Be certain, some men
And women delight
And are built to fuel desire
But others are sure
To show their spite
By blood their hearts are fired

All should be hearing, but more
All should heed
The verse that turns this night
For we two are quite prepared
To dance
This sultry or fatal fight


Whether with a smile or our gritted teeth
My steel will have her say
Her dance will show the purest me
Her attitude will sway
I’m ever in her as she is in me
Though bow or life we take
So watch and listen, so as to see
The point my blade can make


One can never ignore the lure
Of it,
That first breathless taste
It churns the mind and burns
The soul
If affair or foe you face

While the dance and steel
Are all one feels
When those intimate steps are braved
Remember well and mark
This truth…
No dance forever evades the grave


Whether with a smile or our gritted teeth
My steel will have her say
Her dance will show the purest me
Her attitude will sway
I’m ever in her as she is in me
Though bow or life we take
So watch and listen, so as to see
The point my blade can make


(Here is displayed a blend of graceful, but functional, dance with sword in hand. Some argue it was the best part of the performance)


Whether with a smile or our gritted teeth
My steel will have her say
Her dance will show the purest me
Her attitude will sway
I’m ever in her as she is in me
Though bow or life we take
So watch and listen, so as to see
The point my blade will make
Talk less. Listen more.

Current PCs: ?
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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

Just outside the bigtop tent at the circus, a young woman who has been accused (rightly so, mind you) by many to have some amount of dark elven blood offered an impromptu song. Next to the exotic herd animal pen, T'lisa regaled a small crowd and, more importantly, the previously unsung heroes of a recent battle that occurred not far from the site.

You Smell Like A Hero

Once, while walking ‘mid the hills
Of stitched and colored cloth
A pitched and brimstone battle raged
Strife by devils wrought

That little shite with venomed tail
And hidden smirk and sneer
That foe, so tiny, but scarcely frail
Stirred mighty men to fear

He rose, and dove, and fixed his eye
And swooped and struck and stung
Stout hearts did melt, sharp eyes did hide
Resolve was afar flung

Although a group of friends were found
Who thought to save the day
Some figments chased, one left the ground
But none could seize the fray

‘Twas only then and there—and how!
That devil found his match
From yon pen, their scent thick, the cows
Arrived to Hell dispatch

Bearing paint and paper, lies and charms
And forced to mask their moos
Each one done up to twist the farm
To show as splendid zoo

But no charms or paper or paint
And certainly no lies
Were what those heroes spread that night
Their hearts and hooves sufficed

They shed their show to show all there
And show that devil too
That valor has a telltale air
Your heroes might just moo

I hope and trust that some who hear
This tale will tell themselves
That if a herd of stinking steers
Can the hordes of Hell repel
Then it’s plain that all can rise
To acts the gods will see
So go and do and seize the sky
You smell like hero...to me
Talk less. Listen more.

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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

On the steps leading down into the enclosure at Rivermoot, the controversial young half-drow T'lisa offers up her new song, which says was inspired both by her travels in the Marches and by the remarkable map that has been crafted by Dahrthmec the deep gnome. Witnesses say the lovely young lass got more than a little worked up during the performance.

All Her Best Terrain

Open your eyes and allow your mind
To taste her sights, her savory design
This land, this lass, has all you desire
A chill for your bones, kindling your fire
So if everything you want
Is all that makes her fame
Then walk and we’ll talk
Of all her best terrain

We’ll begin at first light
Behind mountains of night
The east opens her sleepy eyes
Spies her own form, stirring to life
Reaching up to her icy mane
Those wispy locks, scarcely tamed
First thought to control the savage style
Abandoned, knowing men like it wild

Then we wander down to her face
To that glorious Gem, a special place
Eyes north and south, bridged by the moon
Trees and cut stone in harmony strewn
Pause a breath or two and without question you
Will feel and know what her lips can do
On their sensuous arcs she imparts
Sparks of Holy thought and Eldritch Art

Open your eyes and allow your mind
To taste her sights, her savory design
This land, this lass, has all you desire
Clutching your bones, feeding your fire
So if everything you want
Is all that makes her fame
Then keep near and you’ll hear
Of all her best terrain

Though ever lovely and fair her face
It tends to chasten the gambler’s pace
Good fortune for them, for not far off
Risque locks of Silver are coiffed
If you hope to wrangle acclaim
From that tangle of her backwoods mane
Then be careful and always beware
Those hairs have snared their fair share

(Quieter)
Draw a step closer now
Another nudge nearer now
As our journey meanders down
The land and our lass are warming up

Her brow glistens now with fair sweat
Beget and bestowed to the vale
Sultry rivulet the Rauvin starts
Growing it flows to more personal parts
Along her rough and buxom bust
She entrusts all that sweat to the vale
In return she earns blood and honey and lust
Arousing hills whose milk and magic make hale

Open your eyes and allow your mind
To taste her sights, her savory design
This land, this lass, has all you desire
Embracing your bones, stoking your fire
So if everything you want
Is all that makes her fame
Take my hand and understand
Her very best terrain

Finally the sun flees the western sky
Revealing the best bits at last
Nestled between her vigorous thighs
A village we dare not look past
Rivermoot stands in repute in that place
The treasure you’d do well to see
Many will claim they came for her face
But in truth…
That hamlet’s where men want to be

Open your eyes and allow your mind
To taste her sights, her savory design
This land, this lass, has all you desire
Loving your bones, relishing your fire
I vow everything you want
Is all that makes her fame
Take my advice and make your way
Through her very best terrain
Talk less. Listen more.

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Duck One
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Duck One »

As one of the audience members of T'lisa's performance, Dahrthmec gets out a piece of parchment and copies the portions of his map using his charcoals. This copy is more of a caricatures that leaves aside most of the annotations, and purposefully exaggerates some of the terrain features referenced in the song. Then he lays the copy on the table, and pulls out a small pen knife, an extremely sharp precision tool he uses sharpen the charcoals to a fine point. He draws a silhouette of a woman as a warrior with a sword, then uses the knife to cut the parchment along the tracing.

Holding it up to the candlelight in the night, he shows his art to T'lisa.

Image
Duck One

Some guy who used to do some work 'round here.
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Wynna
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Wynna »

Thank you for bringing the Marches to life. Let it be known that I give XP for quality songs, writing or art!
Enjoy the game
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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

Word spreads among some of the Knights in Silver and the Griffon Caravan guards that a band of travelers came through the Silverwood to the site where the Griffon Caravan Coster is building a bridge across the River Rauvin. The group was described as brave but cautious. They seemed to be on an intelligence-gathering mission, trying to learn about threats the construction camp might be facing. They ventured out into the Silverwood for a short time, where it was said they killed a troll that almost certainly would have terrorized the camp at some point. After that service to the men at the camp, a young dark-skinned woman with a hand-and-a-half blade in hand offered a song for her friends and for the guards and Knights present. While she seemed clearly happy to be sharing with all in attendance, it was clear that the song was not for her audience, but for her sword.

On Edge

Standing here I offer a verse
That may or not find you
As every night, I would alight
Excitements ever new
But in that moment of unborn fate
Before ovations rise
A quiet known uncertain voice
Would dim these hopeful eyes

It’s then, when breath and voice would fail
A steely spine you pledge
Renown the crowd might never sound
But faithful is your edge

I never know how far to go
Though steps they should be clear
Out there the world of my desire
Beyond my wall of fear
At times I find a moment’s peace
And know what path to hold
But far too often I am caught
‘Tween dread and wild and bold

It’s in those bits of standing time
Your strength becomes a hedge
When others fall or fail or flee
Sheer courage from your edge

A glimpse, a smile, my soul on fire
He knows not what he’s done
Though never trying, I’m ever his
My heart and heat are won
I must reach out to let him know
But shaken is my will
He may deny, dismiss my kiss
And there my passion kill

As lust and trust in love would dim
I’m held back from the ledge
None will ever abide as you
Nor inspire on the edge

((here is offered a dance both personal and powerful, featuring the blade as much as the dancer))

It’s then, when breath and voice have failed
A steely spine you’ve pledged
That renown the crowd never sounds
But faithful is your edge
‘Twas in bits of forgotten time
Your strength became a hedge
All others fell or failed or fled
My courage from your edge
That lust and trust in love has dimmed
I’m strong upon that ledge
For none can stand against we two
My spirit on your edge
Talk less. Listen more.

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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

A pikeman returns from standing post near the Plantation outside Rivermoot. He was heard to report to anyone that would listen of a strange sight he saw this morning. He saw a group of humans and elves, along with a woman and little girl named Hannah from the village ventured close to the fields and carried on in peculiar fashion. He was accused of drinking on duty when he went on to share that that...*lowering his voice*....that drow woman sang a song while standing in the plantation. It appeared she was singing a song to the butterflies. He said it was not bad, but it was curious nonetheless.

Butterfly Eyes

Meadow unfolding
From a blessing of rain
The cold and the crumpled
Stocks of winter will fade
Fresh bud, first of green
Soon gives way to that bloom
What infuses the morn
To eclipse sky and moon

The rainbow drips down
And every petal does kiss
The land offers up
Its best proud fragrant bliss
These splendors seduce
And their nectars entice
If you’re willing to see
With a butterfly eye

As people, they vary
In their shape, height, and hue
Some come in their groups
Others lone in their view
Like people, each has
Its own thorns and grace
Beauty and pain
Reside with each face

The rainbow drips down
And every petal does kiss
The land offers up
Its best proud fragrant bliss
These splendors seduce
And their nectars entice
If you’re willing to see
With your butterfly eyes

Despite bramble and brier
Through gales and through rain
Our heroes insist
That those flowers they must gain
So be willing, you all
Endure noise and all doubt
For all can be lovely
If within or without

The rainbow drips down
And every soul it does fill
The gods offer up
We who best serve their will
Our splendors seduce
And our nectars entice
If we’re willing to see
With our butterfly eyes


Most everyone dismisses him by the time he gets near the end of his tale. He shares that a completely different elven woman conjured a magnificent green butterfly out of nothing. After it made the little girl as happy as a girl can be, the thing was set free by the drow woman.
Talk less. Listen more.

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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

Word has spread among dockworkers and adventurers in the city of Silverymoon that Benlan has installed a stage for performers in the upstairs of the Bright Blades Brandished. Most transient dockworkers dismiss this as a ploy to pluck more of their hard-earned coin from their purses. However, some more established folk suggest that such a stage, by nature of its location, is likely to reflect the pulse of the northern parts of the city, away from the hoity toity Fochluchan and its uppity theatrical sorts and elf bards.

That assertion is tempered somewhat, though, by the rumor that a young...drow woman...was given the chance to offer the first performance on the newly-crafted stage. Many suspect this is Benlan's ploy to stoke curiosity and sell ale, but some in attendance seemed to think he may have been onto something in letting her perform.

Lamented Victory

Each of us
Standing alone or with bonded cause
Faces fires
Challenge desired or imposed by law
All these tasks
Strain resolve or measure skill
Each will try
Limits and hearts with purpose fill
Beyond that
Testing of faith and weighing of souls
Everyone glad
We kept our blood and bodies whole

After help is bade
And deals are made
We draw our words and blades
These brought to bear
To oft feigning care
And courage or coin takes us there

Taking aim
We cannot fail to succeed
Pushing through
To grasp every task or need
In the end
Blood has or has not spilled
Hope fulfilled
And again the taste of victory thrills
Even more!
The ales and regales you have won
Coin and gems
Fair payment for the job well done

But throughout the trial
Along turns and miles
Dire choices ‘tween blades and wit and wile
Though cause may be just
Too often one must
Take small steps from every god’s trust

Lies are told
Deceit a means to the end of truth
Allies lost
Each depletes a shred of youth
Conquered foe
Perhaps not the devil’s hand
Merely wished
Well for kith and kin, hearth and land
While we fest
Convinced within their hearts was doom
Nevermore
Will their more worthy efforts bloom

‘Fore fine food you join
Or spend any coin
Or shared with young lass are your loins
And before you drink
Be sure, stop and think
To know soul from its light does not shrink
Though victory sweet
‘Member life is fleet
And savor lament as you eat
...
And savor lament as you eat
Talk less. Listen more.

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Mick
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Re: Songs Along The River

Post by Mick »

T'lisa takes the stage at the Bright Blades Brandished and offers something that comes across as heartfelt and deeply personal. Those who hear her perform across the Marches, whatever the venue, soon find her including it in all of her performances.

((OOC note...this is one that applies to RL current events as well. Hopefully it stirs some thought))


You look at me, you see
A woman’s pleasing shape, but my face
The color of dying dusk, but must
It be colored by fear?
Come near…and I’ll share a sliver of true
You’ll see that I’m different, just the same as you.

I awoke this morning, in mourning
For a fading thought sublime
Fleeting vision had been gleaming, that dream
Spark of heart and soul and mind, left behind
When my slumber died
At that moment, time and life fan fires
And smoke defiles my dreamed-of sky
I wonder why not, why now, why here
Lament the vision lost to my own fear
If you’ve ever seen your perfect sky pale
Or your morning choked by gloom
If that dream you had just as surely failed
Then know that, yes, I’m different
But in that the same as you

Then I stepped out, without a route
To call mine and mine alone
One away from my mother’s hand
But ne’er far from devotions of home
To seize a life of my own
On that road, though, questions slow
And their load makes weary steps
The mud and rain and the flooding pain
Find me dreading what is next
If you’ve managed barely a plodding pace
As you trek toward your truth
If the mirror shows an obscure face
Know that, yes, I’m different
But in this the same as you

I had no grand design or plan
For a man to ensnare my soul
Be still my heart, apart from all he stood
My knees much like newborn foal
Discovery makes me whole
But as the walls fall down
Around my shelter, safe and sound
His eyes, I imagine, soon despise
My unique imperfect fire
If you’ve ever lost your counterpart
Before love could fully bloom
Another victim of anxious heart
Know that, yes, I’m different
But feel the same as you

So now look at me and see
A woman’s pleasing shape and my face
The color of dying dusk, but it must
Not be viewed with fear!
Stay near….and I’ll show you what is true
You’ll see that, yes, I’m different, just the same as you.
Talk less. Listen more.

Current PCs: ?
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