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The Worlds of Katherine Kurtz
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FS Out of Character Chat
by Laurna
[Today at 12:24:36 PM] -
Forgotten Shadows
by revanne
[Today at 11:54:35 AM] -
FS Game System and Rules
by Nezz
[May 27, 2024, 11:38:59 AM] -
A Spelling Error
by DoctorM
[May 25, 2024, 08:16:21 PM] -
The "Sacred King"...
by JudithR
[May 24, 2024, 02:52:37 PM] -
Chelsea Flower Show
by revanne
[May 24, 2024, 02:12:31 PM] -
FS Player Characters
by Nezz
[May 22, 2024, 01:12:00 PM] -
Two Kingdoms 25: Entrevue
by DoctorM
[May 20, 2024, 08:33:41 PM] -
FS Character Traits
by Laurna
[May 20, 2024, 01:25:04 PM] -
Deryni Magic Rules
by Bynw
[May 15, 2024, 09:25:59 PM]
Latest Shout
Bynw
May 28, 2024, 07:13:38 PM
And so it begins ...
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#1
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Laurna - Today at 12:24:36 PMI so love "What the **** does hair have to do with loyalty" that is classic. good laugh. And then I really am hopeful at Edwin's grandfather's good luck with dice stays with him for a very long while.
I am so happy to meet Edwin. Thank you Revanne.
I am so happy to meet Edwin. Thank you Revanne.
#2
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Nezz - Today at 12:21:07 PMI really like Edwin's hair problems. Reminds me of my childhood when my parents were always on my brother's case because he wanted his long hair and they always wanted him to cut it. Nowadays my mom says "Next life, I'll pick a more important hill to die on."
#3
Forgotten Shadows / Re: Forgotten Shadows
Last post by revanne - Today at 11:54:35 AMEdwin tugged irritably at his border braid. It was typical of his confused life, he thought, that his hair should have grown long enough to braid neatly just in time for him to return to Grecotha where it marked him out as a country bumpkin about two generations behind the times.
Thank God that at least he had been able to return for a second year of studies. On returning home to Culdi for the summer he had dreaded at first that his father now expected him to "knuckle down lad" and return to work in the stifling boredom of the family workroom. It had probably, no, make that certainly, been a mistake to entertain his brothers with stories of student life with more emphasis on the taverns and wenches than on the lectures and debates. His father, hearing, had not been amused. Boring old..., well best not form the epiphet even in his mind.
His cropped hair had not gone down well either. Again it had been stupid to make up that lie about how his braid had caught fire and a friend cut it off, heroically burning his fingers in the process. His father had not believed a word and looking at his son with contempt had demanded the truth. Which had not been well-received either and resulted in an interminable lecture about loyalty to the border tradition and their Graces of Cassan who had been so good to their family. What the hell did hair have to do with loyalty?
He had really feared that an end would be put to further studies. Fortunately though, there really wasn't enough work for three adult sons in the workshop, thriving though it was, and his brothers had clearly made representation on his behalf. Well, as much in their own interests as his, though Edwin bore them no malice for that. A man had to look out for himself, no one else would. They had even talked the old man into giving him a reasonable allowance to take with him, pointing out fairly that it did the family reputation, and therefore trade, no favours having a son of the house appear a pauper. Neither had he seen fit to point out that he would not be walking, or hitching lifts on passing carts, having won himself a passable nag in a dice game his last week in Culdi. It was well he had won; his own stake had been a copy of one of the more ribald tales copied for sale in his family workshop. He had been drunk at the time, too drunk to think or care how he would manage to pay his forfeit; not drunk enough to lose his knack with the lucky dice he had inherited from his grandfather.
So here he was back in Grecotha waiting for term to begin. That at least was one lie he had got away with; with luck his father would never find out that students were expected to return by the beginning of October not the beginning of September.
The truth was that he really did like the studies as well as the more physical aspects of student life. He could feel his mind stretching beyond the confines of Culdi, though where would lead him he didn't know. He didn't even know what it meant to be a Deryni, or whether that was good or bad. It didn't seem to make sense to have powers that you left barely used, like having a bag of good gold sovereigns and only spending copper farthings. But then there were all these mutterings that he heard in the taverns, and even in the university itself, though well away from the ears of authority, that Deryni powers really were evil. Not that made much sense either; there had been Deryni priests now for two lifetimes, and had they truly been of the devil - Edwin surreptiously crossed himself, best to keep on the right side of the Almighty- surely church rituals would not be so mind searingly dull.
So here he was, waiting for term to begin. His daily routine was as muddled as everything else, he supposed. Spend the day in the library, hoping that learning the rudiments of logic, grammar and rhetoric from the wisdom of men of old might shed the light of wisdom on his own thinking, and spending the nights drinking and gambling which did nothing at all to clear his mind's confusion.
Thank God that at least he had been able to return for a second year of studies. On returning home to Culdi for the summer he had dreaded at first that his father now expected him to "knuckle down lad" and return to work in the stifling boredom of the family workroom. It had probably, no, make that certainly, been a mistake to entertain his brothers with stories of student life with more emphasis on the taverns and wenches than on the lectures and debates. His father, hearing, had not been amused. Boring old..., well best not form the epiphet even in his mind.
His cropped hair had not gone down well either. Again it had been stupid to make up that lie about how his braid had caught fire and a friend cut it off, heroically burning his fingers in the process. His father had not believed a word and looking at his son with contempt had demanded the truth. Which had not been well-received either and resulted in an interminable lecture about loyalty to the border tradition and their Graces of Cassan who had been so good to their family. What the hell did hair have to do with loyalty?
He had really feared that an end would be put to further studies. Fortunately though, there really wasn't enough work for three adult sons in the workshop, thriving though it was, and his brothers had clearly made representation on his behalf. Well, as much in their own interests as his, though Edwin bore them no malice for that. A man had to look out for himself, no one else would. They had even talked the old man into giving him a reasonable allowance to take with him, pointing out fairly that it did the family reputation, and therefore trade, no favours having a son of the house appear a pauper. Neither had he seen fit to point out that he would not be walking, or hitching lifts on passing carts, having won himself a passable nag in a dice game his last week in Culdi. It was well he had won; his own stake had been a copy of one of the more ribald tales copied for sale in his family workshop. He had been drunk at the time, too drunk to think or care how he would manage to pay his forfeit; not drunk enough to lose his knack with the lucky dice he had inherited from his grandfather.
So here he was back in Grecotha waiting for term to begin. That at least was one lie he had got away with; with luck his father would never find out that students were expected to return by the beginning of October not the beginning of September.
The truth was that he really did like the studies as well as the more physical aspects of student life. He could feel his mind stretching beyond the confines of Culdi, though where would lead him he didn't know. He didn't even know what it meant to be a Deryni, or whether that was good or bad. It didn't seem to make sense to have powers that you left barely used, like having a bag of good gold sovereigns and only spending copper farthings. But then there were all these mutterings that he heard in the taverns, and even in the university itself, though well away from the ears of authority, that Deryni powers really were evil. Not that made much sense either; there had been Deryni priests now for two lifetimes, and had they truly been of the devil - Edwin surreptiously crossed himself, best to keep on the right side of the Almighty- surely church rituals would not be so mind searingly dull.
So here he was, waiting for term to begin. His daily routine was as muddled as everything else, he supposed. Spend the day in the library, hoping that learning the rudiments of logic, grammar and rhetoric from the wisdom of men of old might shed the light of wisdom on his own thinking, and spending the nights drinking and gambling which did nothing at all to clear his mind's confusion.
#4
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Bynw - May 31, 2024, 01:02:29 PMQuote from: Jerusha on May 31, 2024, 12:28:25 PMI wonder where that deserted monastery is. I don't think I would like our party to meet up with them on the road, so I hope they are a fair distance away. (I wonder what the chances of that are.)
Nice scene, Laurna. It feels so bucolic compared to Bynw's interlude.
Don't worry about the monastery. It doesn't matter where it is right now. They are far enough away that there is no chance of running into them. Yet.
#5
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Jerusha - May 31, 2024, 12:28:25 PMI wonder where that deserted monastery is. I don't think I would like our party to meet up with them on the road, so I hope they are a fair distance away. (I wonder what the chances of that are.)
Nice scene, Laurna. It feels so bucolic compared to Bynw's interlude.
Nice scene, Laurna. It feels so bucolic compared to Bynw's interlude.
#6
Forgotten Shadows / Re: Forgotten Shadows
Last post by Laurna - May 31, 2024, 09:34:02 AM"No, no! Not that one!" The barmaid proclaimed under her breath. The tavern crowd was loud enough to drown out the sound of her voice. Helpless to protest, she watched from across the tavern room, as Proprietor Goeffrey Kildryn and Master Carew Rowan negotiated with a fellow on what can only be business of a guardianship nature.
"Forsake all Saints who detest women," she cursed under her breath, "The man is shirtless!" I will not fall for that again. Helplessly, her mind shimmied back to those handful of years ago when she had fallen, weak kneed, for a shirtless man. But who else could not have, for one such as he? Her inner mind consoled her for her past indiscretion. He lay cold as death itself. I did what I did to save his life.
Had his life been saved? She had no answer. She fingered the silver chain that hung from her neck, hiding her history deep under her kirtel. Her life had changed after that night. If ever she learned that he lived, she intended to call in his debt to her. She looked back at the man being maneuvered into a job, he was a burly fellow, well enough to look the part, but he was not HIM. No one would ever be.
"Wench... Where's our ale!" Amy turned back to her work , setting the three tankards of ale on the table before her. Her hand automatically opened to take the coins in payment. Two coins touched her palm. A third bounced on her bosom and tumbled into her cleavage. She knew better than to try and retrieve the silver penny before these louts. But that didn't stop them. "Come closer, lassie, and I will retrieve it for you," the drunkest one shouted, followed by cat calls from the other two.
Amy snarled at them all and her glare stopped the one's fingers from moving closer. "Roll those eyes of yours down to the gunk under your boots and just maybe you will find what is left of your brain sloshed on the floor."
She stormed away with half the tavern hooting and hollering at her back. "I need to find a better way to make a living." She snarled as she passed Carew on her way to the kitchens.
Amy stayed in the kitchen after that watching Elspeth wrangle out of her mother a full basket of bread, cheese, fruit, and dried meat to get them through the first days of their travels. When she finally got the go ahead, Amy filled three ale skins, a wine skin of the good stuff, and more skins of water and put them in the basket with the other goods. There were perks to this job with her good friend being the owner's daughter. Well, step-daughter, but that was a close enough relation.
When Carew finally marched into the kitchen, he widely smiled as he caught her glance. With conviction, he announced. "Amaryllis Aldan, I have tossed those three far beyond our tavern doors for the sake of your honor," he bowed chivalrously. "You can go back out onto the floor." Then more seriously he said, "Geoffrey needs your help with this crowd."
"Does he really?" she asked, wondering if Carew would someday be the one to save her from this life. No, he enjoyed the tavern life far too well to take her away from here. " ...and that fellow...?"
"He is hired," the tall and handsome brother of Elspeth proclaimed.
"Not until you get him a shirt, he is not." Amy swore. "He is not as tall as you but he has your shoulders, give him one of your old shirts. That green one that has faded from too many washes should do."
Carew laughed, "I am sure I can do better than that. To make my sister and you happy I will throw in that leather jerkin, which I have outgrown."
"That will do," Elspeth said in agreement before hefting up her basket of goods and making her way out the back door. "Amy, I will see you in the morning at the stables. Make sure Geoffrey lets you go soon enough to get some sleep, we have more than a day's ride ahead of us."
Clip, clip... clop, clop... clip, clip... clop, clop...,
The foot falls of the two dusky tan ponies seemed to fall into the same strides. The rhythm was soothing. Amy felt at ease in the saddle as she rode alongside her mentor (the woman without whose tender care, she would have surely perished from this life.) The old gravel road climbed up from the harbor, skirting the hills, and reaching up for the flat plateau of land ahead of them. They had climbed the worst of the road's ascension that morning. And now as the afternoon came on, their sturdy little ponies took this slow climb with confidence. They would not see the distant tall curtain walls of the great University City of Grecotha until they had rounded the hill on their right and turned to face South. It would be a sight to see from this distance in the late afternoon sun. Amy had only seen it once before, but that time the city had been receding in the background and her eyes had been filled with despair that she had become a forsaken soul as she had walked this same road to the harbor by the great Gulf of Kheldour.
clip, clip, clip... clop, clop, clop
The larger horse walking the opposite side of Elspeth Rowan; the bay mare seemed to fall into the same slow strides as both ponies. Amy didn't look up, but she merrily stifled a smile behind the edges of the woolen cloak hood resting over her head. Their 'man-at-arms' had seemed to finally settle into the ponies' slow pace. Amy was not sure if the man's calling was truly that of a man-at-arms. Her first sight of him last night, with only a heavy cloth draped over his shoulders, was somewhat improved by his now wearing of a shirt and jerkin. He even seemed to have come upon a new belt at his waist. A man-at-arms, he could certainly not be. From her father's house, she had known plenty of men in that profession. This man carried neither a sword across his back nor one at his side. Instead, across his back was a hefty quiver of many brightly fletched arrows and his long bow was conveniently laid across his back with the loosened bow string tied with a cloth to his leather shoulder strap. But then who was she to comment about the man's true profession? What could it matter? It was not that far distance between Carbury and Grecotha, a travel that she was certain Elspeth and she could have made on their own. Yet Proprietor Kildryn, Elspeth's step-father, had insisted that they could not, so he had hired Bede. The young hired man was finally easing into their non-hurried pace.
Amy's thoughts drifted to times past. Her traveling days before meeting Elspeth had been managed by foot or by wagon-rides offered from friendly passersby. Weeks of being foot sore had led her in despair to these harbor shores some four years past. She tried desperately not to think of those harsh times. The anger of her father when he had returned home from the war had been enough to cause her to run away. The woman riding beside her now, had saved her from her own folly, she owed Elspeth more than she could ever repay.
Clip, clip, Click and a whiny.
The horse shook his head at the misstep, and the man-at-arms stifled a short curse. He was out of the saddle with the agility of a cat; any man accustomed to chain-mail would not have moved with such grace. He swung the bow to his side without it touching the animal, something only an experienced archer would have considered. Again, Amy wondered what Bede's real calling had been.
A quick perusal of the horse's foot, a flick of a dagger that Amy did not know where it came from, dislodged a small pebble from the hoof. "No damage done," proclaimed the young man as he bounded back into the saddle without effort and readjusted his gear.
"Do you think we will make the gates of Grecotha before nightfall?" Amy had to ask, wondering if it were best to find a place at the side of the road to rest instead. She had worked long hours the night before and had not managed the sleep that Elspeth had requested for her to get. A quick bite of food and even a short nap would do her wonders.
Casting out with the border-folk skills her grandmaman had taught her, she searched for a safe place at the side of the road. ((Perception taken with advantage, 3d6 rolls 1, 4, & 6 Success))
"Mistress Elspeth, I believe there is a flat spot beside the road, just around that rock there. We could pull aside and give the animals a bit of rest."
"Forsake all Saints who detest women," she cursed under her breath, "The man is shirtless!" I will not fall for that again. Helplessly, her mind shimmied back to those handful of years ago when she had fallen, weak kneed, for a shirtless man. But who else could not have, for one such as he? Her inner mind consoled her for her past indiscretion. He lay cold as death itself. I did what I did to save his life.
Had his life been saved? She had no answer. She fingered the silver chain that hung from her neck, hiding her history deep under her kirtel. Her life had changed after that night. If ever she learned that he lived, she intended to call in his debt to her. She looked back at the man being maneuvered into a job, he was a burly fellow, well enough to look the part, but he was not HIM. No one would ever be.
"Wench... Where's our ale!" Amy turned back to her work , setting the three tankards of ale on the table before her. Her hand automatically opened to take the coins in payment. Two coins touched her palm. A third bounced on her bosom and tumbled into her cleavage. She knew better than to try and retrieve the silver penny before these louts. But that didn't stop them. "Come closer, lassie, and I will retrieve it for you," the drunkest one shouted, followed by cat calls from the other two.
Amy snarled at them all and her glare stopped the one's fingers from moving closer. "Roll those eyes of yours down to the gunk under your boots and just maybe you will find what is left of your brain sloshed on the floor."
She stormed away with half the tavern hooting and hollering at her back. "I need to find a better way to make a living." She snarled as she passed Carew on her way to the kitchens.
Amy stayed in the kitchen after that watching Elspeth wrangle out of her mother a full basket of bread, cheese, fruit, and dried meat to get them through the first days of their travels. When she finally got the go ahead, Amy filled three ale skins, a wine skin of the good stuff, and more skins of water and put them in the basket with the other goods. There were perks to this job with her good friend being the owner's daughter. Well, step-daughter, but that was a close enough relation.
When Carew finally marched into the kitchen, he widely smiled as he caught her glance. With conviction, he announced. "Amaryllis Aldan, I have tossed those three far beyond our tavern doors for the sake of your honor," he bowed chivalrously. "You can go back out onto the floor." Then more seriously he said, "Geoffrey needs your help with this crowd."
"Does he really?" she asked, wondering if Carew would someday be the one to save her from this life. No, he enjoyed the tavern life far too well to take her away from here. " ...and that fellow...?"
"He is hired," the tall and handsome brother of Elspeth proclaimed.
"Not until you get him a shirt, he is not." Amy swore. "He is not as tall as you but he has your shoulders, give him one of your old shirts. That green one that has faded from too many washes should do."
Carew laughed, "I am sure I can do better than that. To make my sister and you happy I will throw in that leather jerkin, which I have outgrown."
"That will do," Elspeth said in agreement before hefting up her basket of goods and making her way out the back door. "Amy, I will see you in the morning at the stables. Make sure Geoffrey lets you go soon enough to get some sleep, we have more than a day's ride ahead of us."
*****
Clip, clip... clop, clop... clip, clip... clop, clop...,
The foot falls of the two dusky tan ponies seemed to fall into the same strides. The rhythm was soothing. Amy felt at ease in the saddle as she rode alongside her mentor (the woman without whose tender care, she would have surely perished from this life.) The old gravel road climbed up from the harbor, skirting the hills, and reaching up for the flat plateau of land ahead of them. They had climbed the worst of the road's ascension that morning. And now as the afternoon came on, their sturdy little ponies took this slow climb with confidence. They would not see the distant tall curtain walls of the great University City of Grecotha until they had rounded the hill on their right and turned to face South. It would be a sight to see from this distance in the late afternoon sun. Amy had only seen it once before, but that time the city had been receding in the background and her eyes had been filled with despair that she had become a forsaken soul as she had walked this same road to the harbor by the great Gulf of Kheldour.
clip, clip, clip... clop, clop, clop
The larger horse walking the opposite side of Elspeth Rowan; the bay mare seemed to fall into the same slow strides as both ponies. Amy didn't look up, but she merrily stifled a smile behind the edges of the woolen cloak hood resting over her head. Their 'man-at-arms' had seemed to finally settle into the ponies' slow pace. Amy was not sure if the man's calling was truly that of a man-at-arms. Her first sight of him last night, with only a heavy cloth draped over his shoulders, was somewhat improved by his now wearing of a shirt and jerkin. He even seemed to have come upon a new belt at his waist. A man-at-arms, he could certainly not be. From her father's house, she had known plenty of men in that profession. This man carried neither a sword across his back nor one at his side. Instead, across his back was a hefty quiver of many brightly fletched arrows and his long bow was conveniently laid across his back with the loosened bow string tied with a cloth to his leather shoulder strap. But then who was she to comment about the man's true profession? What could it matter? It was not that far distance between Carbury and Grecotha, a travel that she was certain Elspeth and she could have made on their own. Yet Proprietor Kildryn, Elspeth's step-father, had insisted that they could not, so he had hired Bede. The young hired man was finally easing into their non-hurried pace.
Amy's thoughts drifted to times past. Her traveling days before meeting Elspeth had been managed by foot or by wagon-rides offered from friendly passersby. Weeks of being foot sore had led her in despair to these harbor shores some four years past. She tried desperately not to think of those harsh times. The anger of her father when he had returned home from the war had been enough to cause her to run away. The woman riding beside her now, had saved her from her own folly, she owed Elspeth more than she could ever repay.
Clip, clip, Click and a whiny.
The horse shook his head at the misstep, and the man-at-arms stifled a short curse. He was out of the saddle with the agility of a cat; any man accustomed to chain-mail would not have moved with such grace. He swung the bow to his side without it touching the animal, something only an experienced archer would have considered. Again, Amy wondered what Bede's real calling had been.
A quick perusal of the horse's foot, a flick of a dagger that Amy did not know where it came from, dislodged a small pebble from the hoof. "No damage done," proclaimed the young man as he bounded back into the saddle without effort and readjusted his gear.
"Do you think we will make the gates of Grecotha before nightfall?" Amy had to ask, wondering if it were best to find a place at the side of the road to rest instead. She had worked long hours the night before and had not managed the sleep that Elspeth had requested for her to get. A quick bite of food and even a short nap would do her wonders.
Casting out with the border-folk skills her grandmaman had taught her, she searched for a safe place at the side of the road. ((Perception taken with advantage, 3d6 rolls 1, 4, & 6 Success))
"Mistress Elspeth, I believe there is a flat spot beside the road, just around that rock there. We could pull aside and give the animals a bit of rest."
#7
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Laurna - May 30, 2024, 05:24:45 PMIs it too late to scurry for cover?
#8
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Marc_du_Temple - May 30, 2024, 04:23:36 PMOh ... these guys are up to no good. 
Exciting!
Exciting! #9
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Bynw - May 30, 2024, 04:17:56 PMQuote from: Nezz on May 30, 2024, 04:15:19 PMYes! We finally have a Bynw post! rubs hands together in anticipation!
I rub mine together too. That was a fast notice there.
#10
Forgotten Shadows / Re: FS Out of Character Chat
Last post by Nezz - May 30, 2024, 04:15:19 PMYes! We finally have a Bynw post! rubs hands together in anticipation!