bbloom
Posts 1437
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Scene: The C&B Tavern, the evening after the recovery of General Brandon's stolen longsword. The General is drinking heavily and pouring his heart out to Tuggerton, the bartender.
Brandon: "Tug, keep em coming."
Tuggerton: "Of course, sir." *draws him another ale* "So she musta snuck in when I thought it was the wind what blowed the door open. From there it'd be an easy sneak into your room ta lift the sword. Sorry about that, sir."
Brandon: "It's not your fault,Tug. It's her fault. I still can't believe it's true." *takes a long pull on his ale.* "I loved her you know. You know me, Tug, I've had more women than Vaster's had hangovers. But this one was...different somehow. I thought she was the one that would end the long line of others."
Tuggerton: "It's women, General, you just can't trust em. Like letting an orc babysit your whelps. Eventually, they eat you alive."
Brandon: "When they brought me the sword back, and told me that Dahlia had stolen it, I thought they were joking, or that there had been a misunderstanding. The group had been gone all day looking for the sword WITH Dahlia. And it turns out she had it all the time." *shakes head and takes another pull.*
"But then she walks in and brags about it. You remember what she said, Tug?"
Tuggerton: "Yessir, I do."
Brandon: "'You were but a toy, a dalliance, a plaything! One of which I've grown tired.' And she actually said 'Mwahahahaha!' *furrows brow and shakes his head* Who says that?"
Tuggerton: "Evil villains, I believe, sir."
Brandon: *sigh* "She broke my heart in a million pieces. It's over. But you wanna know the saddest part of the whole story, Tug?"
Tuggerton: "No, sir I don't."
Brandon: "I still love her,Tug."
Tuggerton: "Begging the General's pardon, and all due respect and all, but...well...you're an idiot, sir."
Brandon: "I know, Tug....I know."
--
Brian S. Bloom
Realms of Trinity Executive Producer
Neverwinter Nights Podcast Host
Area Developer & Scripter
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bbloom
Posts 1437
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BlameTheRogue
Registered: 02/07/09
Posts: 92
07/12/09 at 12:08 AM
Reply with quote #3
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Mythan had always seen Brandon in a certain light. He saw him as a womanizer and a drunk, stubborn and arrogant. And yet, a strong warrior, and an asset to any adventuring party. But not this day. Brandon sat in C&B tavern, as Mythan had never seen him. A devastated man...a shell of himself...a ghost. The shock of the betrayal was much for him to bear. His love Dahlia was the thief of more than just his mighty sword, and now she was gone. Mythan felt his own pain, a friendship betrayed, but he allowed himself the luxury of such feelings for but a moment, before brushing them aside, and requesting his reward for the sword's return. He could only imagine the amount of pain the general himself felt. Brandon then blankly replied, directing him to Arcanon in Trinity for payment. In a rare moment for Mythan, he patted Brandon on the shoulder, before leaving without a word, to the magic shop, and receiving his reward. In the end, the mission was a success...Brandon had his sword once more. But Mythan didn't feel much like celebrating. Time to go to hell and feast undead. That usually raises his spirits.
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*sly smile* I wasn't always a mage...
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Thejacksont001
Registered: 01/11/09
Posts: 12
07/12/09 at 10:42 PM
Reply with quote #4
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Alannia, shakes her head slowly and squeezes the hilt of her Avenger.
"Brandon," she says in a calm tone, "sometimes you need to look at your situation through the lens of experience.
“You have fought every demon, devil, and death-spawn that has crawled out the hells and shadows to threaten Trinity. You carry yourself with certainty and braggadocio.”
Leaning closer, she quietly continues “however that is a front, a Façade if you will. Outwardly you appear to be master of your own destiny, but inwardly you struggle with the Demons of your own making.”
“Just what they are, only YOU can tell. They may be few or they may be Legion, nevertheless they consume you from within. Perhaps a feeling of inadequacy is concealed by outward aggressiveness, A fear of Failure supplanted by redoubled efforts, Fear of loosing loved ones buttressed by abrasiveness; holding those who would be close at an arms length from your heart. In a word, Emptiness.
She sighs, shaking her head, and continues “But what IS evident is that you have been filling this ….void… in your life with the very things that are counter-productive, excessive, and destructive.”
She gestures an open hand around the room, “sure, sharing an ale or two with friends and comrades-in-arms is good, we all need to have friendship! However is that really what has been going on? I think you know the truth…. No good is gained by waking in your own excrement.”
She turns back to him and smiles slightly, “Brandon I say these things not to hurt you, but to catalyze your change. The strongest Iron is forged in the crucible of battle, that is true, but also the finest craftsmen strike the iron while it is hot!
While the pains of betrayal still burn white hot in your heart, now is the time to change! If not it will be exactly like the neglected forging, cold, brittle and blackened.”
“What is the Truth in this lesson? When do you cure a disease with poison? This cure you seek is not in this cup, it is out there” Alannia shouts gesturing to the door.
She pushes her finger firmly into his chest, “The void in HERE is filled with the people out THERE. Who came to your aid in your moment of weakness? Why? And what are you going to do to repay that friendship?”
Alannia steps back, and offers an open hand to Brandon, “as for mine, it is assured.”
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Lazarus
Registered: 04/21/09
Posts: 27
07/13/09 at 12:13 PM
Reply with quote #5
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*Lazarus Magni slips in the side door of the tavern unseen, and seems to appear out of no where at the far end of the bar, while Lyricist comes in the front softly humming an old funeral dirge.*
*Magni lifts back his cloak, eyes Brandon, orders a choice dwarven ale for himself, and a carafe of mead for Lyricist*
"I was not present for the events which transpired, that crazy bard and I were off on a quest of a different nature, however the effects of what happened are plain to see. All I can say is that where matters of the heart are concerned often things are more complicated than they appear at first. While it is true this woman stole your sword, and you heart, do you truly know why? Perhaps there was, as of yet unknown, a motivation behind these actions rooted in benevolence."
*Magni takes a swig of the ale, winces at the bitterness, mutters something arcane under his breath, slams the mug down on the bar as the rest of the ale goes **Poof** in a blaze of fire and smoke.*
"bah, I don't know how those dirt lovers drink that stuff. Drink up Lyr, let's go find that lute you drooped."
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Kama
DM, Moderator, Contributor, Custom Content Developer
Registered: 01/15/09
Posts: 266
07/13/09 at 03:47 PM
Reply with quote #6
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*standing off in the shadows well hidden, JD just shakes his head in disgust and mutters to self*....grand,...and this is our new general?....*quiet chuckle*...sure is gonna make my life easy though....*and with a devious grin disapears out the back into the night, leaving just a hint of smoke in the air from a tiny cigar*
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deadxmen
Registered: 06/15/09
Posts: 23
07/13/09 at 06:08 PM
Reply with quote #7
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Dred enters the establishment already tasting the ale on her lips when she notices the quietness within. "It's quiet, too quiet" she mutters. Her first instinct is to slip into the shadows and prepare for a stealthy counterattack, but then, a whiff of something comes across her nose. "What is that?", she wonders. Then it hits her. It's anguish, lust, heartache and shame. She thinks to herself that is one helluva combo. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the general. She should have known better. She should have known that he'd be wallowing in a tankard big enough to fit himself in. She calmly walks up and sits next to him. "Ya know general, be patient. Being patient for the right time to strike on the battlefield can mean the difference between hoistin a mug afterwards, or bein dragged off on a stretcher. The funny thing is, love aint that much different. Live to fight, or love, another day." She slugs down the last of the ale and makes for the campfire, disappearing from view before she hits the door.
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One man's drink is another man's poison, but one man's poison usually works on everybody.
IG: Dredpyrate Wesley, Dredpyrate Roberts, Archer of Dred
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mediocrepoet
Registered: 06/15/09
Posts: 15
07/14/09 at 05:23 PM
Reply with quote #8
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Lyssandra’s lips press themselves into a thin white line, her eyes widening as General Slicke tells the adventurers that Dahlia is to be allowed to depart unharmed. Even as she wanders through the streets of Trinity towards the magic shop to receive her reward, Lyssandra’s mind races: The traitorous wretch was allowed to leave freely, laughing at us! After attempting to kill us and actually striking Mo down! Whatever his faults, I would never have imagined the General… Gods, any general… to be so weak, so unable to carry out justice when it is required. He is but a boy hiding in the shell of a man. We cannot rely on him nor look to him as an exemplar.
Arriving at the magic shop, Lyssandra waits for her reward and sighs: And what of me? I should never have let Mo face Dahlia alone… but to have fought her as a mob would have been dishonourable. I could have stopped her then… or at the tavern. But I didn’t…
She accepts her reward with a forced smile and mumbles some half-hearted farewells to her companions of the hour before heading off to the temple to tithe and pray.
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ladyhawke1973
Contributor
Registered: 03/29/09
Posts: 55
07/15/09 at 08:22 AM
Reply with quote #9
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She sipped a goblet of wine while laughing quietly to herself in the corner of a dingy little roadside tavern she had discovered many miles outside of Trinity during her rather easy escape. She thought to herself how none of them had even bothered to follow her. To her they were all trusting little fools. How easy it was to take advantage of their generosity, gullibility and gold. And she now knew how truly vulnerable the City of Trinity really was.
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Drinking deeply from the goblet, she thought of Mo and his followers, how they clung to every word he said and stood by his side unwavering in their loyalty. Poor Mythan, he had trusted her so, and wouldn't even side either way. But she had always warned him that she wasn't very nice, and he finally learned what that meant. She thought of Brandon and how she had so easily manipulated him. She should have killed him while he slept in a drunken stupor, taken his sword and left town immediately. She should have killed him, like she had other men that she grew tired of and toyed with, but she couldn’t this time. This irritated her, these “feelings” that had begun to stir in her. She couldn’t have that. She had to put an end to it, once and for all. On top of it all, Brandon and Mo had irritated her so much the night before, she felt she had to do something to teach them both a lesson, as she hated being ignored, it was literally, the final straw. And to think, she had started to actually feel for the wretched fools.
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Should have killed them both.
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Instead, she wanted to show everyone their weaknesses and their foolishness, and in that, she pondered, she had succeeded. Doubt about the General and his ability to defend Trinity had grown, which would leave Trinity vulnerable. Although Mo had his followers, the fools let him fight alone because of their ridiculous sense of honor. Maybe she should talk to Shadowdale or better yet, arrange a meeting with Master Cain himself. She had a few ideas planned for Trinity's downfall, and maybe she could make a profit from remnants of this fiasco yet.
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She took a last sip of wine and suddenly felt woozy…the world began to spin around her, the last image in her mind was of a short little drow in full plate armor, singing a haunting and painful tune. Then all went black. The goblet fell from her hand and the last droplets of blood red wine clung to its sides.
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The little dark elf walked out, still singing, headed back on the road toward Trinity.
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Zornax
Registered: 04/30/09
Posts: 8
07/19/09 at 12:44 PM
Reply with quote #10
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Morfinduil smiled to himself in a dark corner of the tavern. He
had seen through the web that Dahlia tried to weave from the
start. Such simple plots were the games of children in the drow
city of his birth long ago in the underdark. Long years of endless
conflict among the great houses, plotting against other houses and defending his own had sharpened his senses to a razors edge.
That the O family had offered the drow a place amongst them,
when few surface dwellers would have anything to do with a
drow, had changed his view of both the surface world and his
proper role in the conflict now raging between good and evil.
But while his end goals may have changed to aid the side of
good, the means to achieving those ends had not. The forces
of good were not ruthless enough or wise in the ways of evil
to defend themselves against ones such as Dahlia. He knew
that neither Mo nor the General would have approved of what
he had just done, but the threat had to be removed, permanently..
It had been a simple matter to follow her in the shadows to the
old tavern. His song of requiem had quickly put an end to
the threat. He vowed to himself that any traitor to Mo or to
Trinity would meet the same fate...
--
Brian S. Bloom
Realms of Trinity Executive Producer
Neverwinter Nights Podcast Host
Area Developer & Scripter
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