Post by max on Feb 23, 2010 16:10:33 GMT 10
Lady Stardust
PG
279
Joren
1/E
A tortallan open mic night. Crack.
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‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ says the tavern owner, chagrined as yet another person suffers the wrath of a Friday night crowd and their rotting vegetables.
‘I thought so too,’ says Joren, shocked and captivated by the vehemence that went into dousing performers with old food, beginning to regret his wager with Zahir to stand upon the stage (largeish table running along one wall of the tavern) and sing a song they’d heard along the progress.
But whenever he turns he sees Zahir’s face, remembers just what they’d wagered, and he knows he has no choice.
A sudden flurry of winter air as another party enter the tavern, and a noblewoman pulls the hood of her cloak away from her head and fear slips into his belly.
Grabbing Zahir’s arm, he hisses, ‘I can’t', pointing to Kel and her crowd of friends.
Scornfully Zahir turns towards the new arrivals.
‘Lest they ever forget what we put them through before she showed up,’ he says, unperturbed.
The Whimsy Wyvern’s Big Sing night seemed to have attracted more people than even that ample tavern could hold, and so it was that Joren suddenly found himself elbow to elbow with Jesslaw, nodding before he resumed kissing his wife – and how Wyldon ever managed to bring up a girl that immodest seemed surreal – and there was Keladry, her eyes shining, nodding to Zahir.
They had grown to know each other quite well over the years – Keladry’s friendship with the princess, Zahir’s friendship with the family – but he and Kel had never quite got past the whole… I-tried-to-destroy-you thing.
It looked like she was about to be paid back tenfold.
PG
279
Joren
1/E
A tortallan open mic night. Crack.
----------------------------------------------------
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ says the tavern owner, chagrined as yet another person suffers the wrath of a Friday night crowd and their rotting vegetables.
‘I thought so too,’ says Joren, shocked and captivated by the vehemence that went into dousing performers with old food, beginning to regret his wager with Zahir to stand upon the stage (largeish table running along one wall of the tavern) and sing a song they’d heard along the progress.
But whenever he turns he sees Zahir’s face, remembers just what they’d wagered, and he knows he has no choice.
A sudden flurry of winter air as another party enter the tavern, and a noblewoman pulls the hood of her cloak away from her head and fear slips into his belly.
Grabbing Zahir’s arm, he hisses, ‘I can’t', pointing to Kel and her crowd of friends.
Scornfully Zahir turns towards the new arrivals.
‘Lest they ever forget what we put them through before she showed up,’ he says, unperturbed.
The Whimsy Wyvern’s Big Sing night seemed to have attracted more people than even that ample tavern could hold, and so it was that Joren suddenly found himself elbow to elbow with Jesslaw, nodding before he resumed kissing his wife – and how Wyldon ever managed to bring up a girl that immodest seemed surreal – and there was Keladry, her eyes shining, nodding to Zahir.
They had grown to know each other quite well over the years – Keladry’s friendship with the princess, Zahir’s friendship with the family – but he and Kel had never quite got past the whole… I-tried-to-destroy-you thing.
It looked like she was about to be paid back tenfold.