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Smudge 5/12/2015 8:15 AM
*loves you all*
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Was never here.
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I had mine ready, along with the corned beef and cabbage
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Forums : Official Open ROLE-PLAY Forum > Planning and funding (backstory)
538048955_Inactive (Applicant) 10/16/2006 4:11 PM EST : Planning and funding (backstory)

Posts: 632

((backstory to the Masked Ball... that and im in the mood to write so, meh))

*Uxor sat quietly at the upper tables in the back of the Phoenix Tavern. Down below, the antics of patrons involved in a heated brawl could be seen. In retrospect, she was rather glad that they'd moved the location of the ball to the Livewood Theatre. The crowd in the Phoenix had steadily been growing to be quite rough. Though she would not have minded a healthy spat with the other fighting types.*

*Combat oriented by trade, she knew nothing of hosting a proper party, so she had turned to the one type of professional she knew was familiar with this line of work - a bard. She'd contacted Varro to help with taking care of lose ends and posting signs for the up coming ball, and to help with a bit of the planning. She was a little surprised to get a message from him in the mail box 'requiring' her to come to this location in the Phoenix. Varro was not a serious man. In fact, he was the least serious and most flippant man she knew. . . so coming from him, it was unexpected to say the least. Required. . . he'd actually written that word in the message.*

*She had only just pulled out the message and started to reread it trying to fathom what it was that a trickster bard could be so serious about when she heard footsteps coming up the ramp. Again she was as surprised as she'd been to receive the note. Uxor was quite prepaired to see someone other than Varro as he rounded the pillar onto the platform, shoving a few chairs out of his path. Varro was usually always in a hurry, dashing along with his speed magic - she couldn't really fault him, she loved the stuff herself when she could get it - but these footsteps dragged up the ramp, stomping almost. The body that came attached to these slowly thumping feet was the most haggard looking Varro she'd ever seen.*

*Uxor quickly realized it was not just appearence either. As he came closer, she caught a strong smell of alcohol upon him. She guessed if she breathed heavily too near him she could get tipsy off the fumes. He was lunking a wooden box with him, and a large sack, both of which he heaved onto the table in front of her, narrowly missing her ale. She heard the clang of various metals as he haphazardly flopped it in front of her, while he stammered into a chair*

Varro: There you are.

*Uxor quirked a brow at him. Mute though she was, Varro was quite good at guessing her meanings by her postures usually - though in his present state, she wasn't entirely certain how apt he was to catch on. She eyed the bag and box with her white brows raised at him still*

Varro: Go on, take a peek. All yours.

*She sighed and decided to humor the drunken 'minstrel' and lifted the lid on the box. She had barely allowed light to hit it when she abruptly let the lid fall, having caught a glimpse of the contents. . . glittering, shining, and silvery in hue. She hissed at him between her teeth - TSS! - he knew that to be her 'what has gotten into you' sound*

Varro: As I said, it's yours *He picked up her ale and began to sip it. It was difficult to say whether or not he realized it was her ale, or that he'd already put in an order for his own moments before, and left it on the bar*

*She looked in the bag, though she knew she'd regret doing so. Knowing she would regret did not soften the sight however. There was a collection of things within the bag. Bracers... belts... a crossbow... in conjunction with the sight of the helm, she knew these items, though not in their current presentation. Gestures were not going to be sufficiant for this conversation*

*She quickly turned over one of the flyers for the ball and began scrawling her thoughts upon it for him. She hoped he was as yet able to read still. He watched her write seeming to have expected the reaction*

Uxor: *scribbling across the scroll and turning it towards him* "What is the meaning of this? Where did all this money come from?? And why are you giving me these, these are Endaria's things"

*Varro answered each of her questions as he read them, taking a swig of ale with each reply* I told you, it's yours. I meant what I said, that is the meaning. "All this money" was hers. As were these things. They're yours now.

*Uxor started to scratch out a nasty reply to him* "Are you pawning your wife's things to cover a debt, because if she finds . . . " *but she stopped, noting his mood. He was not smiling in the way of one who was laughing their cares off. He was smiling as one who no longer cared - one who'd given up utterly. She crossed out the words before she'd turned them round to him, and instead presented him with* "What do you mean "was" and "were" hers?"
*slowly pushing the note towards him*

Varro: What I mean is . . . she's gone.
*Uxor watched him with her serious and blank expression a moment, then slowly wrote the words* "she left you?"

Varro: *he snarled a short laugh* well if she had, I doubt she'd have given me her belongings! Wives aren't known for that when they leave you. Dead, Uxor, not 'left' me, DEAD! *he snapped at her, slamming the empty mug down on the table. He lashed a hand out at her writing stick and wrote very broadly the letters "D-E-A-D" on her parchment* she's DEAD...gone...departed... how else do you want me to explain it to you hmm?? *he nearly snapped her writing stick in his hand, but some part of his rational convinced him to do otherwise, and instead he slapped it down on the table*

*Uxor didn't know why she bothered, but she calmly retrieved her stick, and started to write "rest sh" but he cut her short*

Varro: I've already tried that

*she wrote the letter "R" and again he interjected*

Varro: Resurrection, yes, well if THAT solved my problem I don't think I'd be sitting here talking to you

*she angled her head frustrated at him, and wrote "what happened?"*

Varro: *he coiled his fingers round the mug of ale staring at it* She went out for the night... helping some folks plunder a temple I'm told... She fell in battle, and they waited for her to return to the brother they'd bound themselves with... only she never showed. They fought back into the temple for her soul stone, but they found none. They found only her body. They took her to a shrine, but she wouldn't wake. They sought me out, but this was beyond my knowledge. I took her body to every priest I know, to shrines, to churches. . . none could revive her. They told me *he trailed off, but looking at Uxor's chilling gaze, he knew he could not stop talking now.* they said either something is preventing her from returning, or... she doesn't want to. I questioned her companions thoroughly - they're not lying about the excursion or the nature of her death. *he closed his eyes as she started to write the words "silver flame?" "priests?" "speak with dead?"* None were even able to contact her in the beyond. *he stopped talking, staring at the bag on the table*

*Uxor followed his eyes to the bag. He had taken every action she could have recommended to him. There were no other paths she could suggest to him. She started to write "I am so sorry" but it She reached out and coaxed one of his hands off the mug, clasping her hand round his wrist, and his wrist round hers in turn, and sheltered his hand in hers this way to show her support. He rested his head in his other hand, finally withdrawing it from the mug. She noticed how entirely unkept he was. He hadn't shaved for some time, his hair was falling round his face from out of his usual pullback, his eyes were red and tired, and his complexion was rivaling hers in how pale it was. He looked dreadful. She knew he felt so too.*

*It was horrible. So many times she'd fallen, he'd fallen, Endaria had fallen, while out adventuring. To think that at any time someone might not be able to be revived was shocking.*

*she sat a long while with him, letting him speak his mind to her. Uxor felt a little sorry for him, as he rattled off things about himself and Endaria that, had he been more coherant, he probably would not have said. She watched to make sure no one was paying attention to them or their conversation, and tried to steer his conversation away from sensitive matters with her writing when she could. Conspiracies, the House Deneith, the Quori, his considerations ran wild with what it was that had befallen Endaria.
some things she sighed at hearing, knowing full well she'd have to keep them to herself the remainder of her life, for they were best left unsaid from that day forward. She wished she knew half as much about her own life as what Varro spilled to her about his.*

*Once she'd gotten him relatively calm once more, she wrote carefully* "Varro, I cannot accept these things, this money. Don't you want to keep it? "

Varro: *he shook his head and started to reach into the sack* No. She would have wanted you to have some of these. I have taken those things that I wish to, to remember her. *he pulled out a set of bracers and set them in her hands* These will help you run faster. I know how much you like that. If you get enjoyment from them, it would make her happy. *he set a pair of goggles in her hand* these will shroud you so you can't be seen. She used to call you 'the snowy scout' so I thought you'd get good use of them. *he shrugged a little* the rest, sell if it doesn't please you.

*Uxor shook her head and wrote "you would get better prices" but eyed the items in the crook of her arm. It was good to have something to remember her by. She wrote a little more*"Thank you Varro. I will think of her when they save my life as she often saved mine"

Varro: *he nodded* She enjoyed your company Uxor, even if it was spent teaching her new ways to pick on me *he sighed reflecting at first fondly, then turning to a scowl* the memories will be the death of me I think.

*Uxor scowled herself at his thinking. It was one thing to miss someone, to be sad... but this attitude was going to stop - now. She pushed a new parchment under his nose that she wrote while he was distracted in his depressed thoughts.* "Do you know what my name means?"

*Varro looked down and was a bit baffled by the question. He had to read it twice to make sure he understood what she meant* No

*she had a very dark glare as she wrote* "It means "wife." Do you know who I was married to? Before coming to Stormreach?

*he shook his head - he had no idea what her life had been before he chanced to meet her*

*She wrote quickly and if the stick had been a knife, her words might kill, by the look on her face anyway. She shoved the paragraph at him* "NEITHER DO I. My name was given to me when I was a slave - what my real name was I have no idea. I know it was a name meant to distinguish what it was I did before coming to slavery. I have no memory of my life. Who I was, who my family was. The memories were taken from me. So perhaps you should be a bit more thankful for the memories that you get to keep."

*He reflected on her words quietly.*

*she had run out of room on the paper, and began a new sheet, turning over a scroll of bull's strength, scratching out* "I will take these items. They will bring me fond memories. But only on the condition that I not be required to take the money. Instead, I'd like you to find a better use for it"

Varro: Such as?

*her harsh expression slid to a more light hearted, and empathetic, look* "You're still going to help me find bouncers for the front door of the party, yes?"

Varro: *he nodded* Yes. That is my gift to you. *he didn't mention that he had made a promise to Endaria to help*

*Uxor smiled broader, so much so that her eyes closed from it like a contented cat, and she shrugged as she wrote* "Pay the doormen $1000 plat each for their job then. Use the money to comission them with. If you're so insistant that I have the money, then that is what I wish done with it."

*Varro choked on his own spit a moment. He was not yet so far that he didn't realize that her suggestion was a considerable amount of money* You're serious? *he lowered his voice* A thousand plat a man?

*she nodded and crossed her arms*

Varro: you do realize you'll get every mercenary this side of the sea with a comission like that?

*she shrugged again, writing* "that is why you're going to help me screen them. We'll write contracts for them. If they want the cash, they obey the contracts. Simple as that"

Varro: You are, by far, the wierdest strong arm I know Uxor. What's with the sudden generosity?

*she didn't react to his comment, nor did she deny it, and instead responded in paper to his second* "I consider this to be the balance of karma is all. I am sure there is a fair amount of money I've taken from crypts and dungeons of this city that once belonged to good people. I'm also certain that money has been spent to preserve my life in battle. I consider this to be atoning for these issues is all"

Varro: *he grumbled* you and your Karma. Well, since your 'karma' you talk about has thrown me ash to eat, it seems I'm in need of some balance - if I can believe in that. I'll do as you ask... but I'm not coming to the dance

*Her smile faded. She had somehow expected that he would not come... not after the news of Endaria's demise.* "If you're going to kill yourself, remember that you're sworn to help me. Don't bother trying until afterwards" *she was only half teasing. She suspected very much to hear that he too didn't return from the other side if she left him unattended.*

Varro: Yes well, I never 'swore' to come to the dance did I. Only to help you get ready for it.

*She rolled her eyes. Varro and his semantics.* "I wish you would come. I don't expect you to be 'happy' but I think being around others would do you good." *she sighed and followed with* "However, I am not your keeper. What you do with your life is your own karma to endure."

Varro: *he didnt make further comment on the subject* Come, let us draft up these contracts of yours then. . .

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