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Started by Tale Weaver, October 05, 2014, 06:23:36 PM

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Leatho Shellhound

March's gestures were nothing new, in fack it was a little game they seemed to play. Even though to others it might have been taken offensively, it brightened up his mood when he thought over it later.

"Are you ready to begin?" asked the fox.

"Indeed," anwsered the shrew.

The stage was set, the ground was clear and the preformers were ready. André gave Dannilo the signal to start playing his music so as to draw the woodlanders to them.

It was a difficult performance that they were doing, a tragedie called "Lay of the Ottermaid" which was originally writen and constructed by Thann. The moving of all the right props and keeping out what they didn't want the audience to see was arduous. But thankfuly he and Vanglar had practised it many times and they worked it like a well oiled machine.
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Wylder Treejumper

#16
Dann nodded, started from his quiet introspection and review of his music. "Aye. Ready as I'll ever be."
As the sun sank below the horizon, the woods darkened into twilight. The actors were in their places, the lanterns lit, the audience seated. Dannilo walked out into his place on the stage, ready to begin his narration. He quieted the audience of fieldmice, drew his crystal blue lute from where it hung on his belt, and placed it at his lips. The peace that only music can bring swept over his face, and he began to play. A simple, mournful tune echoed out over the audience, quieting the last whispers. He repeated the same melody, but slowly elaborating, adding scale runs and trills until by the fifth repetition the originally simple melody became a beautifully complex heartrending theme.
He put down his lute, and then, in a clear tenor, began to sing.

Isabelle the ottermaid
Picked flowers by the sea,
The Lilly and the Marigold,
The delicate Pansy,

For that day she would come of age,
Within that very hour,
And for the celebration then,
She chose her favorite flowers.

When she looked up, to her surprise
She saw a ship that rested
Upon the sand down on the shore
Near by the waves that crested.

She lay her flowers down and ran
And climbed aboard the ship,
And all around the tokens lay
Of its fateful final trip.

The hull was stoved, the rudder snapped,
The mast was broke in two
And on the deck no vestige lay
Of the fated former crew.

As Isabelle began to leave
She heard a quiet groan,
From underneath the ship's main deck
Came somebeast's pained moan.

So Isabelle climbed down below,
And soon she found the source,
A grievous wounded otterlad
Who'd groaned 'till he was hoarse

Then Isabelle did bring him home
And laid him in her bed,
She pulled her blanket o'er him,
Laid her pillow 'neath his head.

She cleaned his wounds and bandaged them,
She toiled long and hard,
And while she nursed and cared for him,
She sang her favorite song.

Here, Dannilo once again played the simple melody which he had introduced the play with.
The remainder of the lay told of the romancing of the otter Coram to Isabelle. The lay closed with the final lines of the tragedy:

Then Coram got down on one knee,
Asked her to be his wife,
To share with him the calms and gales,
The swells and troughs of life.

Isabelle blushed tenderly, and
Took his paw in hers, and
Said she would be honored if
He'd join his life with hers.

Then did Coram pledge his love,
But pled his holt's consent.
So Isabelle, she watched him go,
And waved him as he went.

So Isabelle climbed up the cliffs
Above the windswept shore
And sang her song as he sailed off
To return never more.

For on that night a storm blew in,
A violent, sweeping gale,
That threw waves this way and that
As northward Coram sailed.

Isabelle the ottermaid
Picked flowers by the sea,
The Lilly and the Marigold,
The delicate Pansy,

It's been a hundred years or more
Since Coram sailed away,
But Isabelle waits for him still
Down to this very day.

For if you mount the cliffs above
The windswept shore below,
This song you'll hear as through the rocks
The mournful wind doth blow.


Dannilo played long and softly the final chorus of the melody, bringing the lay full circle. He opened his eyes, and took a sweeping bow. "Thank you, thank you!"

"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

Tam and Martin

*

Vanglar nodded to Andre acknowledging his response to begin, then he went right to work.

He was in charge of acting out the ottermaid - Isabelle. Sometimes he would use a real puppet and sometimes he would use his hands to make shadows to set the scene. He and Andre would make flowers when Isabelle would pick flowers, they would put up another puppet for Coram etc. When the play was all done and when Vanglar's hands practically fell off with all the movement, the audience clapped loudly. Vanglar smiled, A rare occasion for him. He was happy doing this and hope he wouldn't have to move on.

Vanglar congratulated Andre on the performance and then started to pack up some of the puppets. He had almost totally forgotten about the most precious treasure he had found just earlier that day. He smiled once more but this smile was different. It was a smile of greed and envy - Not a smile of happiness like it was before. Vanglar couldn't take his mind off the treasure and weapons. He knew he would have to go see them later tonight. Later, when everyone else was away and he could sneak out without being noticed.

He snapped back into reality and went back to work.


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Rainshadow

#18
  "You're making this way too easy for me. Can't you be a little less... predictable?"

 "Your wish is my command, love," Perrian replied, nodding with a smirk before reacting quickly to dodge her swipe.  Just as the pine marten asked, he decided that moment to do something unexpected.  Instead of backing up or parrying, the fox decided to excite the dormice gathered around them.  With graceful swiftness, he dropped to the ground, landing flat on his back and just narrowly escaping the whoosh of the dirk above his head.  Unfortunately, it seemed as though Perrian had bruised his tail as he fell.  He grunted and adjusted his position on the ground, lifting his hind end up enough to move the copper tail out from underneath him.

 Panting slightly, the handsome tod took a moment to look at Aislinn standing in front of him.  It surprised him, just how lovely she looked from this angle.  "Y'know, Miss Aislinn," Perrian in his most charming tone of voice, "you do look very beautiful from down here.  Did you know that?"  Then, suddenly revealing all of his white fangs in a large grin, he hooked his left footpaw behind the she-marten's own paws and pulled toward himself, hoping to knock her over as well.  She did, after all, ask for something unpredictable.
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Jukka the Sling

#19
Aislinn set her mouth into a firm line, annoyed beyond measure at Perrian's flirty remark. She would have shot back a scathing reply if at that moment Perrian hadn't suddenly put his footpaw behind hers and jerked hard. Unprepared for such a move, the marten lost her footing and sat down hard.

"Couldn't best me, so you had to resort to something cowardly like that, huh?" she yelled angrily, leaping to her footpaws. She knew that she herself had told Perrian to be unpredictable, but that fact only made her more irate. Hearing a few snickers from the crowd, Aislinn turned red with embarrassment and rage. She would not allow herself to be shamed like this.

"It's a duel, for crying out loud!" she yelled again. "Which means just that - a duel! It's not a free-for-all where you go tripping your opponent up!"

Aislinn was dimly aware that she looked and sounded ridiculous, but she was so infuriated that she couldn't think clearly or stop herself.
"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater." ~J.R.R. Tolkien