To Brother Joseph, Isilmire nods in agreement. "If you would like to send him with us I have no problems with that. Another to fight against the evils of this world would be appreciated."

"However I would like to add my story as well. If the brother is coming with us he can get the particulars later. I will tell it simply for now. My story is not long. The when was long ago, both when it started and when it ended. My house is and old and and honored one. Men and women of great heart and deeds have carried the name Shadowhawk proudly. For generations the founder of our house was a man of pure heart who served his God faithfully for all his life. in dark times and good times. It was during one of those times of unrest and evil darkness that my ancestor was gifted the most precious possession of our house "The Sword of Light" was a gift from the Gods.

It was given to our house in our fight against the darkness and evil in honor to those who served faithfully. It was passed on to the most deserving family member of the next generation until it came to my Great Grandfather. He was the last to carry it. He and it disappeared. Searches were made, prayers were made, not even our entreaties to the gods for information gained us knowledge of him or where the blade is now. Everyone in my house, when we leave our homelands seeks for information and the sword. I serve my God faithfully, but I also seek the Sword of Light. I know that one day it will returned when the time is right. My God is not fickle or uncaring, but some things are kept from our knowledge for good reasons that I will not question."

"I am out here to serve my Deity, to do good, and I search and I listen for news of the sword."

The abbot nodded appreciatively when Isiliri ended the story of her house.

"Thank you, my dear. I can identify with your story on many aspects. The tale of this monastery is not so different from yours. It was founded by a man named Athur Forrager, a follower of the Path of Dynasty. These followers usually seek to find all the lore and knowledge in the world. Athur was said to be graced by our Lord Jusarin with a divine secret that could change the world if it was revealed. He became a hunted man, as various people sought the knowledge he possessed, mirroring this great secret to their own dreams and desires. He fled to the Taskarren coast, and started this monastery so he could bury his secret under vast amounts of written knowledge. When he passed away, so did any information about this divine secret."

The abbot paused for a moment.

"I don't know if this story is true. Even amongst the brothers there are different interpretations to this tale. We have never looked for this secret, and believe that Athur had good cause to keep it burried. It is an unfinished tale, and we like to keep it that way."

"In any case, I am glad that you are willing to take brother Perrin with you. I am sure that when he collects his first great story, he'll learn a valuable lesson."

He winked at Perrin, then looked at Tamuril when he continued: "As for your song, I would very much like to hear it this evening. You can be our guests until then. After all, we don't get many."

(OOC: I don't know if you guys want to stay. It is not required, but roleplaying wise it might give us some interesting hooks. I'm not updating any further yet, since I think this scene needs some closing up. )

Despite the warmth of the invitation, Ocyari shivers slightly. It's not that she wouldn't prefer to be a guest here, especially with the reception, but at the same time... Ocyari fidgets a little bit, feeling a little uncomfortable. This place didn't agree with her. Not that surprising really, but it'd probably be better to leave.

However, Ocyari keeps silent. To raise her voice would be to draw attention to herself, which is not something that's needed. Besides, there is also chance that the others may decide it'd be better to travel more in this day. Either way, it is in her best interest to wait to see what the general consensus of the group is.

"I too have not problem you Brother joining us for the time he needs to write his stories." Though I do not think that should take him very long." Isilimiri responses to the proposal out to them

However there was another matter at hand when Tamuril mention staying for dinner to tell her story.

"I had thought we were only here for a break from the noonday sun and the monastery's kind invitation. Now all we really need is time for the good brother Perrin to prepare himself to leave."

What she did not mention was that they had not been invited for dinner nor did she want to mention it out loud least it precipitate an offer forced by politeness.

"Perhaps you could tell your story now while Brother Perrin gets his things ready."

Isilimiri look about perhaps they could come back this way. A repository of information such as this might hold information she sought.

"Good Abbot, one request I do ask of you for a future time. I would like to return here, the Gods willing, and search for information that you might have here on my ancestor."

As others discuss the merits of one of the monestary's own joining them Tamuril unpacks her harp a tunes it. It is a double stringed harp of great beauty, its golden wood shined to a mirror finish.

She took out her copy of the epic song in common, she had one also in Elven, but doubted those that lived so far from Sylvari lands would know the language.

Once the decision is many for the man to join them, she invites all to come a listen.

"Please Brother, let all come to listen, it has been long since I could play and sing, the desert is not the best place for such, it dries the wood and the voice."

She took a long drink and set out the musical sheets, she had written herself. she had copied them to a scroll so that they could never be mixed up, if dropped, and it was easier to turn to the next section.

When others came and settled theselves she began with a series of melodies as an introduction.

“This tale I tell is very new,
the story is known by very few
Outsides the Realms of the Sylvari
Hear now the Song of Elessarae, Lady Blade Dancer

A cadet of Megilindar Nost, was called for by the elder host
For a testing, a testing, to go aquesting.”

Testings are secret, but blood was drawn.
Yet the young Bladesinger passed on the power of her song.

Tamuril goes on to sing of Elessarae’s journey to Sillarion to say goodbye toher parent befor retuning to Megilindar Nost, the Bladesingers Keep to get her assignment. Then came her first meeting with the Demonic Owls and her defense of the Moonhorse. She tsings of the stricken mare leaving her colt in Elessarae’s care. The young Bladesinger went on the the Capital going to see the High Druid, and another battle with the Mutated Animals of Unusual Size, and her return to Megilindar Nost and then being sent off to join a group going into the Chakran Mountains to delve into the mystery of the Chakran Khords disappearance while she was to scout out the Goblin problem.

Tamuril sings of a night spent in the swamps between the River of Light and the River of Floating Flowers and of the story told of the Lotus of Light and that it grew when the waters of the two river mingled. Along the way the Bladesinger came across more evidence of the MAOUS killing and doing damage to the forest; squirrels as big as ponies attacking people. Elessarae was turned from Flame Keep when Comrade, the Moonhorse colt followed her into the tower and a Sage getting most annoyed. She was sent to a village a bit away.

Once getting to the village Elessarae found it taken over by Goblins, with a big Troll under their control. Worst was news of some tree that had been poisoned by them that was the cause of the MAOUS. She rides back to the Keep and Sages say they must have a Lotus of Light to made a antidote for the tree. The Gods move in mysterious ways and that night in the swamp Elessarae had poured water from the River of Light into the ground sodden by the River of Floating Flowers. With a hard ride back to the swamp with a guard, they searched for it, most of the night, but it was Comrade who found it in the morning.

After a potion was made the young Bladesinger, a young Mage and two guards were sent to find the tree and use the potion on it. The Goblins alerted the first time she had been there were ready now and a fight ensued. Elessarae took out the Goblin's best fighter and their captain and she stuck his head on her sword to intimidate the Goblin horde along with the Mage's Wall of Fire. The two guards were killed, by the Troll and then the Troll grabbed up the Mage. Just when Elessarae thought she would have to fight him the Troll handed the Mage to her and went off to kill Goblins, he had been enthralled to the Goblin Captain and once the Captain died the Troll had was free. With his limited intelligence Goroptk reasoned, Goblin hurt and taunted him, Elf set him free. Help Elf. Kill Goblins.

“Hear now the very Words of Elessarae at Runya Nost, Flame Keep after returning and before leaving for the North.” Tamuril still the harp and her voice rang out, as she thought young Elessarae and spoken,

“This is for those who risked all to save you. You know we faced a Troll, and thought him to be the greatest danger, and for Hivalus and Mirnando he was, but he was only a captive driven by the Goblins to do their bidding. Once free he saved the life of Luronya, bringing her safely to me. If you see a Troll about and he answers to the name of Goroptk, then salute him and let him continue to hunt goblins.”

“Now this is for those that died and well as for those that remain.”

“For the Sake of the Sylvari

For the Sake of the Sylvari four set out, to put an enemy to route,
A mage and two guards with her, and a newly made Bladesinger.
To fight a foe and heal a tree.

And to the village they came, the village without a name,
For those who lived there had died and no one cried
As all were dead.

To face an overwhelming force, two guards went out of course,
It was their duty and they died and one cried out,
For the shame of it.

Scores of Goblins and a Troll, did take their toll.
The guards had little chance, so great was the enemies’ advance.
They gave their lives for the Sylvari.

Their sacrifice helped to save the day, helped keep the enemy at bay
For Bladesinger and Mage, had their own battles to wage,
Until the day was won.

By the Grace of the Deities of Good, at the end of the day two still stood
To see the poisoned tree set right, with a Potion of the Lotus of Light,
For the sake of the Sylvari.

The day was done, the battle won, with the setting of the sun.
Time to return, time to rest, having passed another test.
Two went back where four had come.

Say their names with pride, the two guards that died,
For the Sylvari they did save, Hivalus the Bold and Mirnando the Brave.
Salute them, all Sylvari.

And forget not Luronya the still standing Mage who singly faced a Troll enraged.
Her magics helped to save the day and cause the Goblins to run away.
She, too, saved the Sylvari.

And Gharion who carried me from the start, his loss broke my heart
Valiant steed that he was, died for the cause
Leaving Comrade and I alone.

Oh, I lament for those that died, I am the one who for them cried.
Oh, why did they die alone, so far from their home?
Oh, where were the Sylvari?

Rise up Sylvari, defend you land, the enemy is now at hand
Take sword and bow, hunt them high and low.
The Sylvari are under attack.”

Tamuril paused from her recitation, “Next is Lady Elessarae’s Battle Hymn.” She takes up her Harp again and begins to play a must martial tune.

(To hear the music go to http://www.contemplator.com/wales/harlech2.html the first little bit in an introduction and then the song starts.)

Rise, Sylvari, guard your Forests!
War has come both Dread and Glorious.
We must Stand and be Victorious,
Warriors of the Light.

Rise, Sylvari, to Defend us
Least the Enemy do Rend us
Doing all that is Horrendous
In this, they must Fail.

Stand we now with Fervor
In this great Endeavor
Weapons ready, warriors steady,
We face the gruesome foe now before us

Sylvari Warriors, on to glory
See Battle Standards famed in story
Waves these buring words before ye,
"Sylvaria shall not Yield!

Rise, Sylvari, take your Stand,
Cast out the Evil from our Land,
With Sword and Bow now in Hand,
Warriors of the Light.

Come we now before the Foe
Gathered now to bring them woe
With sword and spear and full bent bow,
The enemy shall not stand.

From the trees resounding,
Now our war cry sounding.
Summon all at Sylvaria’s call
The haughty foe now surrounding

Onward! Now Sylvari warriors,
We are here to be Victorious,
Doing all that is Good and Glorious,
Warriors of the Light.

Tamuril let the harp go quiet, the story was not yet done, but her voice needed to rest and she needed more to drink.

"After I rest I will finish the story, and tell you how Lady Elessarae got her new last name."

But the time she finished it was well into the afternoon. Such ios the way of Epics.

When the epic song of the battle for Sylvaria and the world of the Khords was done, the monks were silent for a while. The abbot sat with closed eyes, and the only sound that could be heard was the scribbling of brother Josop’s pen on dry paper.

“I have heard this story before.” The abbot finally said. “Though it was quite some time ago, and from a different angle. The fellow that told it here was a Khordaldrum cleric named Geimiedefher. He said he had been one of the heroes in the tale. We didn’t know if we could believe him or not, but we had heard rumours of this apparent invasion. His story provided us with information to fill in the gaps. I’m glad I hear you seconding his words. It will be a valuable addition to our library.”

He stood up with a groan of stiffness.

“Well, after such splendid story telling we can’t possibly let you go with just a drink as payment. Of course you are all welcome to visit our library any time in the future, but such a thing is hardly a reward for your services.”

He whispered something inaudible in Josop’s ear, to which the other monk nodded and turned to leave the room. The abbot held out an inviting hand in an indication to follow him.

“Please walk with me. We will go see how your horses are doing. They should have had a very decent rest, and will be eager to move you further up the path.”

He guided them out of the monastery, and around the back to where the horses were waiting. They looked refreshed indeed, and ready to leave. As they mounted their steeds, brother Josop joined them again. He was carrying a sack and a leather waterskin. The abbot took them both and handed them to the adventurers.

“Here. Inside the sack you’ll find some bread, dried fruit and a bottle of our homebrew. The waterskin contains a very special potion that you’ll find quite refreshing, though it only comes in a single dose. Use it wisely. I’m sure a group of adventure seekers like yourself can use this better than we do.”

With that they said their goodbyes. Their horses started their slow trod through the loose sand, and brother Perrin walked alongside his new companions, seemingly fine with the pace.

The path curled further through the dunes, weaving up and down through sandy patches and high, sharp grass. When night began to fall they made their camp, in the shelter of the grainy hills, and enjoyed the warmth that had soaked into the earth all day and kept them comfortable through the cooler darkness.
At dawn they returned to the path, that led them all the way to the top of the first dunes. At midday they mounted the last dune. A full blast of strong, salty wind was their initial reward, but what came next made all the heat of the plains worth the trouble.

---

Farreus paused for a moment to let the anticipation of what would follow rise in the minds of the children. They were all silent, a few gaping at him with their mouths dropped in total focus on the story. Most of them had never left the city. Hearing about places far away and living the sights they would never see were as much entertaining as a dazzling combat scene. He continued his story with a wide gesture of his hands.

“An immense ocean spread out before them. Waves rolled up on a sandy shore and carried whispers of far away islands. Sea gulls shrieked in the distance, crying out in flying freedom. The water was a rippling desert; a void and eternity in one. The pace of the tide was peaceful and wild at the same time, working their minds in different ways.
The beach was deserted, but the breathtaking sight of the ocean was enough to occupy their thoughts. Nobody disrupted them in that moment, except for the occasional wandering bird: aimlessly pecking at shells, feathers ruffled in the breeze. Did they pause long before continuing? I do not know. But eventually they continued north, following the path that had carried them through the dunes so far.”

---

It was two days later that they encountered a small settlement. They had been travelling through dunes without any sight of the sea for at least half a day. Then the path sloped down again and ended in a wide stretch of sandy beach. There they found a small village, built of no more than twenty wooden houses. This village was located on the beach that was like a valley in between the dunes. High tide would carry the waves of the ocean just a hundred yards from the first doorsteps. Boats lined the shore, and sheep dotted the surrounding hills. These people were obviously farmers and fishermen.

In the setting sun, the townsfolk were on their way to their homes, and did not spot the adventurers yet. It was later, when the group had taken their stay at the town’s tavern/inn that word began to spread that strangers had arrived.
The Meaty Herring was more of a community centre then a real establishment for housing guests. With only three upstairs lodging rooms it was quite small, but then again: it did have an upstairs, which could not be said about most of the other buildings in the town.

The bartender brought them their drinks that evening under the watching eye of most of the community. People had come to see the newcomers, and the owner of the Meaty Herring was doing good business. But people didn’t buy too many drinks, it seemed. This was a small town, with not much coinage going around. People dressed soberly and acted soberly, eyeing the adventurers with curious glances, but without the open desire to actively learn what had brought them to their village.
The bartender broke the secret interest and shyly inquired: “So, travellers. Where have you come from, and what is your destination? We don’t get many passers by lately. You would think the coastal paths were haunted. Haha!” he laughed, a little to loud for comfort. But he eyed them in expectation of an answer.

(OOC: I need a reply first of all, but more importantly I need to know what your intentions are for the rest of the remaining time.)

Tamuril had smelled the change in the air for some time, it was tangy and briny, and invigorating. When the group topped the rise of yet another dune with scattered clumps of long sawtoothed grasses a whole new vista opened up to her.

The Sea, and she was mesmerized. Sunlight glinted of the water, the plantive cries of the gulls filled the air, and the spray off the waves drifted in the air. The Bard in her was awestruck by the sheer beauty and endlessness of the sea before her with its blues and greens and pale frothy foam. Small sea birds ran along the shore as waters receded pecking into the sand, others at least 2 difference species circled about overhead, on strutted about the beach in search of food, things tossed up by the sea. Clumps of seaweed gave of a nose-tingling smell.

When she can return to herself she looks to the others, "Please, can we stay here the night."

Well, Perrin had sure done it this time. Almost cringing under the abbots gaze, he simply nodded at his suggestion to go with this group, saying "If that is what you wish father."

On the inside however, he was frantic. The outside world? He'd just escaped from there. He was almost hoping that the group wouldn't accept him. But then, one by one, they did. "Um, to answer your question... Kay, was it? I am an average combatant, I have done some simple training in the art. Also, I am rather knowledgeable, from hearing stories all the time, and am a good watchmen. Sadly... I can't cook, no."

...
...
...

After the days went by, Perrin wished he was still at the monastery. But still, it was good not to have to write under the monks' watchful gaze. He was new to the writing, and he found it rather difficult to keep pace. Oh well, it wasn't too tough of a life.

At the innkeeper's question, Perrin merely shrugged. "Sir, this group has taken me in, and I am to record their tale for future generations. Now what is this about a haunted coastline? It could make for quite the tale..."

The innkeeper looked at brother Perrin while wiping his hands on his apron.

"Oh, I was merely joking, young sir. The paths haven't brought us many travelers lately is all."

(please remember that if you want to use skills such as Diplomacy or gather information and the likes, you have to tell me you're actively using the skill. Otherwise I'm just giving off hints for free, which is not how the game works. )

"A joke sir? I find a joke such as that quite astounding. You're sure that there's nothing to interesting about this location being haunted?"

(OOC: This is a sense motive on what he just said. I don't believe him at all.)

As brother Perrin further inquired about the remark made by the innkeeper, the man looked about the common room uneasily. But when he looked back he seemed more self assured.

"I can tell you that there is no haunting going on in these parts, good sir. You can sleep asured and safe. And tomorrow you may continue your traveling and recording of your fine tales. If you wish to share one with the villagers, I would be much obliged. We haven't heard a good story in quite a while."

(OOC: Perrin may still be suspecting something, but at least he thinks the innkeeper is telling the truth.)

Hmm... This man seemed like a trustworthy fellow, and he seemed like he was telling the truth... And he was hoping for a good story. Oh well.

"Thank you innkeeper. I am glad to know that I am safe. However... I still don't think joking about that topic is the wisest thing to do. Some people won't believe that it's a joke. And they'll go gallivanting off... probably get themselves killed.

Isilmiri nods to the innkeeper. "I am certainly glad to here there are no haunting spirits about. I thank you for your words." Isilmiri spoke kindly to the man with genuine smile.

"I would like to order hot water for a bath. Our trip has been long and hard. When it is ready please let me know." {Use Diplomacy (+4)}

"Brother Perrin, how long have you lived at the monastery." she asked conversationally. Wanting to make the man feel better included in their group, if they were travel together and more importantly depend on each other. {Use Diplomacy (+4)}

"Well, I suppose you could call it live there... I was only recently taken in by the kind monks at that monastery. I awoke one day to see it in the distance. I fear I have a very limited recollection of who I was before that... Though to answer your question, I would make a guess of about 3 fortnights, perhaps a bit less. And yourself? I was busy collecting my possessions, I did not hear your story."

Tamuril is saddened that they did not stop to stay the night by the see. She could see no reason for hurrying on, but that is what the group chose to do. she set her horse to follow the other and spent the rest of the trip, drinking in the sights, sound, taste, and smell of the sea.

At one point she dismounted her horse and handed the lead to Isilmiri and pulling off her boots, she waded out into the water to feel the surge of the water as the waves rolled in and out. She returned and grabbed he sock and boot from her horse, put them on the ran to catch back up to the group.

Getting to the town, she remained in a quiet reflection of her first experience with the sea.

As Isilmiri spsoke of a hot bath, she finally reconnected.

"That sounds good, we could save money and some work for those who must bring the water if we share a room and the bath," she added, "one after the other."