# Adventures in Jals County: Cyril and Simon of Holdmarch



## omokage (Mar 30, 2004)

Mark (of these forums and Creative Mountain Games) is running two parallel D&D campaigns on alternating Sundays at Games Plus in Mt. Prospect, Illinois, USA. Both games are taking place in Jals County, Kingdom of Toeffrus, World of Revloc, a campaign setting Mark has been working on for at least 20 years and is selling, a little bit at a time, through Creative Mountain Games.

In the second slot myself and Painfully are the only players. We're both playing 2nd level multi-classed human characters. Painfully is playing a Cleric/Fighter named Cyril; while I am playing a Rogue/Sorceror named Simon.

Following this post, either I or Painfully will be posting the events of our campaign from our characters' point of view. The other group that meets with Mark may also be starting a thread of their own adventures, but I'm not certain of that yet.

I will edit this first post if the previous information changes.

The Cleric/Fighter, Cyril, is a cleric of the god Toeffer, patron god of the Kingdom of Toeffrus, where this campaign is taking place. He's recently become more interested life's more martial pursuits and is reevaluating his faith.

The Rogue/Sorceror, Simon, is a merchant specializing in potions and "holy water". He's had to learn many less savory skills in order to thwart the ever present threat of theives, but he, like his friend Cyril, is a good person at heart, even if he is a cheapskate. Being in the presence of clerics for so long, but not having the heart to devote himself to a deity, Simon has discovered in himself a power similar to that granted by the gods. He's on the road a lot travelling, so he has been taking that time to foster his newfound arcane abilities.

On with the story hour:


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## omokage (Mar 30, 2004)

*Simon's Merchant Log: Holdmarch - Jalston commute*

My friend Cyril and I hired a coach to take us from Holdmarch to Jalston, where we plan on setting up a stand at the market there for a day or so, at least until we run out of wares. I had Cyril make a few vitality potions for us to sell, while I collected some water and had it blessed at the local temple.

The ride was pretty non-eventful. We stopped for a bit in Allflood to get some lunch. One of the locals tried to scare us by telling ghost stories while we were eating. He wanted us to believe that there were strange sounds like screams or something coming from the Trackless Moors to the south of Allflood.

The second time we stopped we just stretched our legs. I always forget the name of this town, in spite of it being so nearby to Holdmarch. The coachman's crossbowman, Aidan, took a little longer than expected to return to the coach, but I think I was a little affected by the ghost stories at Allflood. Aidan looked a little sick, maybe he ate something bad back at the last stop.

Cyril and I couldn't help but overhear the crossbowman and the coach driver gossiping as we got on our way again. Aidan said something about a woman they're acquainted with looking "off" and not recognizing him. When they noticed I was listening, I wasn't being at all subtle, they shut the divider and we couldn't hear any more.

We got to Jalston finally near sundown. Aidan wants to sell us another bottle of wine--we bought one on the trip--but I'm not interested. One's enough for me, I don't think Cyril drinks wine too much. The coach will be around until morning if we want a ride back, but I doubt we'll sell our wares so fast--we never do.

We caught a ferry across the river into Jalston proper and hunted down a place to stay. Aidan had suggested an inn called "The Captain's Table," so Cyril and I visited there first. There was some sort of guard outside, so we asked him about a room.

After a little array of suspicious questions, specifically whether we were members of the merchant guild--which we're not--the doorman went inside for a little bit before returning to tell us that the inn was full. I think it's strange that the doorman had to go inside to find that out (how long had he been there?), but neither Cyril nor I wanted to press the matter, so we hustled to the town gates to try to get to Toeffer's temple inside.

We narrowly made the gate before it was closed for the night. From there we asked directions to the Temple of Self-Reproach, the morbidly named local Toeffrun temple.

It was dark, and the street was empty, excepting a small group of hecklers sitting outside Darien's temple. Now, I'm not a religious man, that sort of stuff is more of a commodity to me than a way of life. The Toefferites hate Darien's followers and vice versa. There's some bad blood that comes from some old legend regarding the gods' rivalry. I think it's silly to act out that rivalry amongst mortals, but what do I know?

That being said, stalwart Cyril felt that the street was too dark and magicked it brighter by having his god light up the holy symbol Cyril wore on his chest. The hecklers found this very amusing and took the opportunity to identify themselves as thugs now. One whom I can only presume was the leader of the bunch stepped up to Cyril and offered the "hospitality" of the temple of Darien. Cyril politely refused; then they extended the offer to me and I also refused.

Cyril was getting annoyed by the thugs closing in around us, so he brandished his sword and pointed it at the leader, daring the leader to attack; they did.

Cyril and I took quite a beating before I was able to escape to the nearby guard tower. It turns out that the sots on duty were taking bets as to the outcome of the brawl. Luckily, the master guard embarrased himself by trying to spit on me (he ended up spitting on himself), which led to another guard getting tired of the whole situation and turning his crossbow on one of the thugs. The hapless thug took a bolt to his buttocks, which discouraged the rest of his kin from continuing the fight.

We staggered from the scene quite bloody and bruised, barely making to Toeffer's temple without collapsing.

Upon arriving at the Temple of Self-Reproach, Cyril and I were greeted with a disturbing display of what I can only call self-reproach. Quite a bit of penance was being performed--and encouraged from us--but we were able to get a place to sleep and have our wounds tended to by the temple's clerics and nurses.

It was a long day and I'm sure I will be getting a good, long night's rest.


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## Mark (Mar 31, 2004)

May I simply express my glee, at this time, by typing "w00t!!!11!!"?


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## Painfully (Apr 3, 2004)

Day 1 -- Morning in Holdmarch

Simon and I have arranged travel East to Jalston, where we intend to sell our goods at a fair price, and a brisk pace.  The coach driver we have hired says we should arrive there by dusk.  

I look forward to the change of scenery, as Holdmarch holds little to entertain my wits, but for the dice and drinking games common among the soldiers here.

Day 1 -- Jalston

Aidan, our coach driver, suggested an inn which we found out caters to members of the merchants’ guild.  After waiting on the doorman to tell us he had no rooms, we made haste for the gates, to stay at the local temple of Toeffrun.

We had just gotten inside the city gates, where we were greeted by followers of Darien.  It had been a long day of traveling, and I had no desire to spend time telling them about what odd creatures their mothers must have mated with to produce such offspring as they.  So, at their insistence, I drew my sword to keep them at bay, and told them that Simon and I had more important business to attend.

Of course, this wouldn’t satisfy them.  Their numbers gave them confidence, and rightly so, seeing as how I proceeded to get pummeled by several of them before Simon attracted a guard’s attention to the matter.  Had this affair been a fair fight, I do not doubt they would be crying for my mercy.
[Cyril got pummeled down to 1 subdual hit point!  The guards turned out to be watching from the gates, which were right next to the temple of Darien.]

Simon and I made our way to the local temple of Toeffrun after the fight.  I was in no shape to boast of my fighting skills that night, and in no mood to talk until I had rested.  Not even an hour in the city, and already I had a score to settle.

The head Toeffrunite priest there encourages the purging of sins by flailing one’s own back.  After letting him know that the local Dariens were happy to purge my sins for me that night, I let myself rest in a room they kindly provided.

Tomorrow, Simon and I shall proceed to see what fortune finds for us at the bazaar.


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## Mark (Apr 10, 2004)

Was your time well-spent at the bazarre?


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## Braunusvald (Apr 11, 2004)

*The adding of a bard to misfortunes*

To the amazement of all, I Aldare a simple bard of Jalston have been thrust from a peaceful live of busking and singing for my sup. To the life of monster slaying!
             To the quick of the story.
      Two brief day past, A happy singer of tales (myself) was traveling Jalston's market as was my want, hoping to earn my days meals and perchance, sharpen my wit with a jest or two. When Dame Fate gave me a sharp nudge to my jollys in the form of a beggered gnome, fleeing the loud cry of "thief". My lyric morning was cut short, as I pulled forth my blade to rudely stop his light fingered shopping. In thier good graces, the watch quickly came to arrest the short smelly villian, and a partner of the victemized merchant was close at hand to indentify his goods. The matter was soon resolved, and the scondrel was removed to the "pits"
    Always looking to increase the number of sites to display my talents, I interduced myself to the merchants, and in return learned those kind masters' names, Simon Merchant and Devotee Cyril (A true follower of Toeffrun).
I offered to help display their wares to the best effect, using song and measured calls, helped to clear a small sum of the potions that they stocked.
     Being well graced, the two worthys invited myself and a tacture elf named Voland (whom they had briefly hired to act as guard ), to join with them at evening meal. The elf and I left first and the other to follow later, for the pleasant confines of the Whistlers Wet, a noted dwarven public house. 
     Seeing as the other had yet to arrived, I chose to pass the time doing what I had set of that moring to do, earn moneys for my meal. I joined a flute player that I've had occasion to join before, and between the two of us we earned egough to pay for a dozen fair meals (that alone should have warned me of thing to come). Simon and Cyril soon arrived and we all ordered and stout meal  from are dwarven hosts. 
     To my amazement, They also brought the gnome with them! He had been marked by the guard with a thieves mark, and they had payed his fine to suffer his indentiture. I guess they had need of a groveling wretch.
     My humor for the evening was watching Voland (in his naive way) trying to pump the bar keep for worthy quests for his bow. The only thing he almost learned, was the rude meaning of dwarven brotherhood ( nudge nudge wink wink). I also aided the local fisherfolk by singing a round of the "Jolly fisher's net" in memorial to a trio of slain youths.
      When we got ready to leave it came to my attention That our (??) group
had been committed to looking into a farmers' lost dairy cow problem!??
I was still wondering how I had been included when a hour or so good walk lead us to the farmer's gate. Goodman Gonez explained that two or three cow had been taken over the course of several nights, with no help being forcoming from the watch he asked for our help.
      In military order a watch was set up in the front of the barn and in the loft above. I chose to remain above where I felt that I could help best.
      I was woken after the middle of night, to the sight of bugs the size of a oastlers cart. I can't say that the thrill of battle ran thru me. Infact all I can say about the battle is that I used my sling (poorly), and that alot of arrows were used by Voland to good accounting. Simon was gravely injured and healed by Cyril, and two of the magical beasts were slain ( a third ran back underground). 
      Voland in his youthful rash behavior, ran off to tell the farmer that his problems were over!(???) He returned with a small box loaded with copper and silver, and a big smile on his face. I sadly had to explained to the sapling that we could NOT take all of the farmer's savings for an unfinished job.
And that we should see that the watch would take care of the last of the vermin. To my surprise, the group wanted all of the money and to face to horde of bugs down the hole! I begged to at least talk to the watch and think about better supplies, before trying to be eaten.
     The party ( there I've said it, PARTY an adventuring group SIGH!!!)
agreed to only taken a gold worth of reward per person AND go talk to the watch. My illusions about civic duty were shattered by the weak little man at the post, so we agreed that we would take care of the remaining problem.
     We returned to town to get better gear and finish any left over things. We soon returned to the scene of the crime, and entered the beasts lair. To my great surprise only one bug remained, and only fighting I did was to use my music to bolster the others.
     So, all of my dreams to live a soft life , and play for the noblity are crushed. But all things said, in my heart of hearts, I LOVED IT! So with song and blade it begins.


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## Mark (Apr 14, 2004)

Great perspective from the Bard!  I wonder what the archer is thinking...?


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## Shadowbane (Apr 20, 2004)

In true Elven fashion, I am keeping this long and detailed.

Ahhh, where to begin.  It happened so fast that I'm having trouble remembering...or I don't want to remember.  For there are some things too strange for one with a brain to comprehend.  Anyway, I do know how it started.  The five of us - Cyril the fighter/cleric, Simon the sorcerer/rouge, Aldare the bard, the theiving gnome and I, the elven ranger Volund Amakiir, had returned to the city from our tussle with three ghastly ankhegs, one of which I graciously take credit for killing myself.  As we neared the city limits, we all realized that we needn't have rid ourselves of the vile, disgusting ankheg stench and feces.  But that would have to wait, for we needed to sell some items we had looted off of several corpses found inside the insects' lair.  Our first step was to drop off our old swords which had been replaced by blades of masterwork quality.  A gnome swordsmith turned out to be the one who bought our wares. 

 It was during this exchange of steel and gold that she happened to chance upon my sword and with a glint of pride in her eye, she proclaimed, "I made that!  Where did you chance upon such a beautiful work as mine?"  When we told her of their former owners' fate, she gave a shrill laugh and dismissed us.  Cyril or Simon might have bought something from her, but as I said, my memory is slightly hazy.  

  Our next stop was a dwarfen armoursmith who turned out to not like us much, especially me.  (Of course, being an elf, that is understandable.)  The only thing that got her to cooperate was an ankheg mandible we had seized from our quarry out at the farm, using it as a bargaining tool...was able to raise the price on the two sets of cracked, feces-caked, studded leather.  I've got to hand it to that bard.  As much as he annoys and makes fun of me, he has excellent bargaining skills.

  Well, with our extra load disposed of and our pockets slightly deeper, we parted ways for an hour to clean ourselves up and meet back at the local tavern.  Cyril and Simon were able to find a spot in the city's temple (which I hear is full of flagellants so I worried deeply about them.)  Aldare went to hang out at his house, while I retreated across the riverbank to my uncle's house via ferry.  (That ferry would eventually dig nearly a silver piece out of my wallet.)  

  Upon arriving at my kin's humble abode, I happened to stumble upon a very disgruntled uncle who needed me to help in his arrow making business by stripping roughly 300 branches of bark and twigs.  Well, this sort of job was going to take me into the evening hours, which meant that my companions would be waiting too long and might get fed up and go somewhere without me.  So quickly, just in case my uncle looked in the backyard, I moved the sticks into nearby underbrush, and dumped all 45 of my arrows in his backyard where I had been working.  I then made my way back to town as quickly as I could.  To replace the arrows that I had dumped, I hastily made my way to the nearest weapons shop and purchased what I had lost, all the while, learning where the arrows my uncle makes, go.  

  After I made my purchase, I ran into my companions after a heated debate with Aldare.  He convinced me to go work for my uncle and meet up with them at night to track down a sea monster.  Well, after an afternoon of long, hard work, I met my friends and walked down to wait with them at the river.  

  After awhile, we walked down the riverbank for a few miles and happened to chance upon a mill.  It was a rundown, ramshackle place with a large waterwheel that turned with utter silence in the pitch black river, and a two-story house attached to the main structure.  Light seeped from the cracks between the window shutters.  I would certainly prefer the trees to such a run-down shack.  Simon advanced to the mill's door, the rest of us following closely behind.  

  Simon rapped sharply upon the door, and an old man came to greet us.  After a few minutes of questioning, it became apparent that this man was completely oblivious to the monster attacks of late, so we thought it necessary to move on.  

  It was then that, through low-light vision, I glimpsed two cloaked figures rowing upstream on the other side of the river, a large case in tow.  When I noted it to my companions, they exclaimed that they could see nothing.  I often forget how in a few respects, humans are inferior to us elves.  

  I promptly hailed them, noting the dangers that lurk in the night.  The figures looked around frantically and proceeded to row faster upstream.  Simon, apparently fed up with looking blindly into the night, loosed an arrow that he had cast light on only a moment before at the far bank.  As the river bank illuminated, the figures in the boat proceeded to row faster.  Frantically, we looked around and found the millman's boat flipped over on the shore.  Hastily, we righted it and set out in pursuit of the mysterious men.  The waves were choppy and the men we were pursuing were fast, but with the Gnome's and my eyes, Simon and Aldare's strength and the excellent coordination of our steersman, Cyril, we were soon closing in, all the while our quarry growing more and more nervous by the second.

  In fact, we would have been on them had there not been a sharp bend in the river, which the men we were pursuing had slipped behind.  I warned Cyril of the bend, and he was able to get us around it unscathed.  However, when we turned the corner, they were nowhere to be found.  However, I did spy a small tribuatary and had Cyril steer us up it until I saw a large, looming building jutting out of a rugged mountain covered in brambles.  I had Cyril bring us to shore.  

  As we all stared ahead, I think that we all knew that we had come to the right place.  The Gnome stayed back at the boat to hide, and Simon and I went ahead to scout.  We crept up to the building and took a listen into a rather loud conversation coming from the building.  It turned out that the fellows we had been tailing were telling their friends about what happened out on the river, and what they should  do about it.  

  When their voices began to die out, Simon decided that he would stay and keep watch while I slipped through the brambles that lined the area back to the beach where our friends Aldare and Cyril were waiting.  After telling them of our findings, they crept back with us across the landscape to where Simon kept watch.  As we moved up to Simon's encroachment, it annoyed me to listen to Cyril's armour clanking as he moved, and my ears range with every step he made.  Nevertheless, we made it to Simon and our group was reunited.  However, when we all heard the crackle of branches being broken and promptly disbanded again.  Aldare and Cyril moved as silently as they could (And for Cyril that wasn't quiet at all) closer to the building, and soon disappeared out of sight.

  Simon and I shuffled around the other side of the mountain.  Soon, we heard several footfalls upon the mountain's summit, and a split-second later, Simon had cast light upon a nearby stone and promptly threw it up to the summit which illuminated the whole mountain and the immediate areas surrounding it.  The mountainside showed no perpetrators upon the summit, but it did show the men on the other side of the hill.  There were two human archers, rather lacking of skill and absolutely terrified.

  It was then that Cyril mounted the hill just as Simon and I exchanged a volleey of arrows with the two unknown archers.  Cyril demanded that we all cease fire and strangely, all four of us, including our enemies, listened to us.   Cyril and one of the archers proceeded to question each other, though from what Simon told, the archers were flat out lying.  It was then that Simon, taking advantage of the diversion, snuck off to the front of the building.  As an afterthought, I gravely wished that he had stayed.  It was then the light gave out, plunging everyone into darkness, save me. One of the archers snuck off, but the other was at my mercy as I slowly stalked him, and he would grow more scared. 

 It was then that I made a terrible mistake.  I charged at him, attempting to capture him alive.  Unfortunately, he was also thinking along the same lines.  As we grappled in the darkness, he gained the upper hand, tangling me in my own cloak.  I fought back, though no matter what strength I exerted, it was never enough.  As my strength gave out, I began to lose hope.  Then, as I began to see myself as a goner, the man released his grip.  As I untangled myself from my cloak, I saw that it was Simon who had come to my aid.  As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that Aldare and Cyril were there, too, the latter holding a brilliant sun rod.  I saw the man hanging from his cloak which was clutched in Simon's hand.  Just watching the terrified man just made my blood boil.  With lightning reflexes, I loosed an arrow straight into the gut of the archer, killing him before anyone could do orsay anything about it. The man head drooped and his eyes glazed over in a slow, sickening manner.  

  "Why did you__", "How the," and"What the -" were some of the responses I heard.  After I thought about it, I really had no reason for my actions.  But before I could apologize, Cyril had stolen the man from death's icy grip with one of his many healing spells, and was already proceeding to tie him up. As I watched on I realized that this was a fate I might have met had I not been aided.

Well, I certaintly couldn't apologize to the man, for he would recieve it, so I just kept silent and thought to myself, "Where to Next?" My questions were soon answered by Simon's dicovery of a secret passage in the back of the mountain. As I looked into the forboding hole, I could only imagine what was in store for us next.


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## Mark (Apr 30, 2004)

I wonder how they will do when they go down into the tunnel...


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## Painfully (May 1, 2004)

[note: Shadowbane's post is day 3 material for my journal.  I'm still catching up.    ]

Day 2 -- Morning in Jalston

My muscles still ache somewhat after the encounter last night with the Dariens.  No doubt the pain would be much worse if it weren’t for the temples healing services last night.  I doubt the Dariens will give me trouble today in broad daylight, being the mischievous predators they are, but I will nevertheless avoid walking directly in front of their temple on my way to the bazaar.

Simon and I are going to reserve a kiosk at the bazaar and see what comes of a day of selling holy water and potions.  May Toeffer’s good fortune shine on us today.

Day 2 -- Evening in Jalston

Business went well today, despite an interruption from a would be thief.  I was shopping for some food at a nearby booth when I heard Simon cry out, “thief!”  After I was able to hold him down, the guards quickly apprehended the ragged-looking gnome, and his three-legged dog.  Thankfully, the stolen potion was recovered intact.  

Our fortunes improved as we did seem to make some friends today.  Aldare, a local bard, came along and offered to sing near our kiosk in an effort to help our business.  Voland, an elven ranger, also made himself available for hire as a guard for the remainder of the day, asking only for the price of an ale as payment.  It was with these generous fellows that we would later be joined for supper that evening.

Yes, well there was still the matter of the thief.  Simon's soft heart wouldn't allow the little fellow to be punished under the city's laws, which likely would have resulted in the gnome’s death, and considering our good fortune after one day of sales, Simon offered to pay the thief's penalty of 50gp in order to have the man released under our supervision.  However, the payment wouldn’t negate the mark of a thief that the gnome would now have to wear, magically branded on his forehead, for the next 50 days.  

I don’t like the idea of how this might effect my reputation, but slavery is not entirely frowned upon in this city, and I agree that 50 days in the jail might have proven too harsh for the gnome to survive.  Simon has taken the bulk of responsibility for the fellow, but the gnome seems to find joy in speaking when not spoken to.

It was at supper in, "The Whistler's Whet" that Voland mentioned something about a farmer and some of his animals having gone missing.  There were other tales being muttered of missing fishermen around the boatyards as well.  After some discussion, we all agreed that the farmer was in greatest need.  I also felt it would do some good for the reputation of my temple as well to help the locals.

Under our collective watch tonight, whatever predators lurk near this farm will soon become the prey.


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## Painfully (May 1, 2004)

Day 3 – Daybreak at the Farm

The night was cool, and mostly uneventful until Simon spotted something moving in the bushes.  After looking harder, it appeared to be an enormously large insect-like creature.  It’s most prominent feature were enormous front pincers—they were as big as a persons arms!

Once we began firing arrows to attack, several of them rushed towards Simon and Aldare who were both on the ground level.  I fired arrows from the barn loft until they got too close to my companions.  As I reached the bottom of the ladder, I could see one of the creatures had Simon in its pincers.  I knew I had to hurry.

They beasts started to drag Simon back to their lair, no doubt to make him their meal.  Aldare, Voland, and I pressed our attack.  Simon still struggled to get free, but the pincers were wrapped tightly around him when the creature disappeared down into its lair.

Without hesitation we followed it into the hole in the ground.  A quick light spell helped to guide our way into the darkness until we at last found Simon and his captor.  The bug had a right to be fearful.  We killed its companions, and weren’t about to leave without our friend.  We vanquished the last creature, and I used the blessings of Toeffer to rejuvenate Simon’s life.  Had I hesitated a moment longer, he might have been dead.  

Strewn about the lair, we found a pair of bodies less fortunate than Simon--their bones and equipment littered among the insect waste.  A simple magical investigation revealed some enchanted weapons.  We also found some good quality armor, and a locked box.  These would bring a good profit for our troubles.

The dawn is just now peering over the trees, and already we are tired.  I hadn’t anticipated a farmer having trouble with anything more difficult than a few wild wolves.  Voland has already collected the reward money from the farmer, but Simon promptly returned the money, thinking that the farmer needed it more than we did.  

It’s time to return to the city.

[more day 3 material coming soon.  It's still morning!]


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## Braunusvald (May 15, 2004)

*Songs from Jalston*

From the song book of  "Aldare"
	The Jolly Fishers' Net.

		Way hey and up he draws it
	Way hey and up he pulls it
		Way hey and up he draws it
			Ear-li in the mornin'.   (chorus)

	Sweepin' the net for caches of silver
		Sweepin' the net for caches of silver
	Sweepin' the net for caches of silver
		Ear-li in the mornin'.   

	(chorus)

	Dancin on the water with a nixie princess
		Dancin on the water with a nixie princess
	Dancin on the water with a nixie princess
		Ear-li in the mornin'.   

	(chorus)

	Sleepin' on the bank deep in the cat tails
		Sleepin' on the bank deep in the cat tails
	Sleepin' on the bank deep in the cat tails
		Ear-li in the mornin'.   

	(every third verse reprise the first verse.
	 this is an informal song, that invites the audience to add inprompto
	 lyrics. And with an inventive group, can last up to an hour.)


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## Mark (May 18, 2004)

Hookin' the bait gonna catch a whopper,
Hookin' the bait gonna catch a whopper,
Hookin' the bait gonna catch a whopper,
Ear-li in the mornin'


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## The messenger (May 27, 2004)

moooore pleeeeease!!!!!!!


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## Braunusvald (Jun 5, 2004)

*Travels in and about Jalston (By Aldare)*

Mmmm... Much has happened in a very short time.
My new friends and I have been very busy, rooting out murders and thieves in the moors. 

    Alright, the base facts then. Our group saw fit to learn the fate of the murdered fishermen we heard of in town. After a long night of traveling up the river Serpentine, and a series of fumbling attempts at working together.
We tracked a pair of nair do wells, to a rude mining hut in the moors.
   A brief sally of arrows, and an ambush undone, we learned that a greedy trio had set up a scam to loot a group of workers out of gold, and were willing to kill innocent river folk to hide the deed.
   The leader fled into the night but his partner blabbed enough to hang him.
We gave chase and soon cornered him (thanks to good tracking by Volund).
  Sad to say, once again my fighting skills proved lacking, and I was felled by an arrow (Note to self - LEARN TO DUCK). 
  After finding the loot and binding the thugs, we arrange for the workers to help us to ferry the whole mess back to Jalston, where we split the booty (half to the families of the slain, and the rest divided among all). The villians were given over to the watch for proper justice.
   A time for rest, short thou it may be, is now needed.


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## Braunusvald (Jun 5, 2004)

*Murders' Luck   -  Songs from Jalston*

Chance met, over ale.
Loss measured, widows' tears.
True men O' the river, under darkness,   Blood spillt by a greedy mans blade

(pause)

Under a wane moon, a watch was kept.
But still a fourth was lost.

(pause)

The night next, A search taken.
Skulkers seen, chase given.
Oars sweep O' the river, under darkness,  Five hounds scent the bloody blade.

(pause)

Under a wane moon, a foe to bay.
Into the shadowed moors.

(pause)

An ambush foiled, A coward fled.
A craven foe, felled by bow.
A confession voiced O' the river, under darkness,  Greed brings ruin to the cowards blade.

(pause)

Under a risen sun, crimes counted
And gold carried into the light.

(pause)


Villians chained, to justice taken.
Loss voiced, tears eased, 
Down O' the river, after darkness,  To Jalstons' pit drops the greedy mans' blade.

(pause)

For a gallows is the measure of a murderers greed.
When justice rides O' the river, under darkness.
By blade, by bow, by spell, by song.

By blade, by bow, by spell, by song.

(This is a sample of metered prose, acompanied by chimes or drums)


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## Braunusvald (Jul 2, 2004)

*Madame Chaos is in charge of order*

In my short human life, never have I been so out of sorts.
	First I accompany Cyril and Volund on a short trip to Dartham, which I might add could not have been a worse unless Tallydins was in charge.
	I never had the privilege of being run out a town before, but thanks to a dimwitted scribe, I now hold that honor. (May he rot in jail).
	The truth is Cyril was ill-used by the local temple of Toeffur, being made to run an assault mission with no details on how to win. 
	On returning to Jaston a plague of misfortune rained down on us. Volund was kicked out of his uncles' home, Cyril reported his failure and was asked to leave, AND I found that my home was now the wall sentry's' chamber pot! I of course complained to my guild, Only to earn a new nickname ("two coins" as in a two bit bard). All three of us decided to leave Jalston.
	Still in all, I think that losing Tallydins (and maybe Simon) will make up for this.
A new person joined us as we left town, a dwarf named Nildor

More later


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