((I will be listing mine as part of the Ambassadors collection, but ultimately I plan on making a separate one for everyone's story to head under rather than the Ambassadors))
 
The Ambassadors
Volumn VIII "The Avatar and the Oracle" Chapter 1

*Varro ran the back of his hand across his chin, wiping away the spattering of blood. Despite the pain in his mouth, he grinned at the dwarf with the metal gauntlet for a fist, which had struck him so soundly. Granted, the fellow had needed to hop up onto a chair to reach the lanky minstrel's face... but the strike was well placed. Through a mouth full of salty red fluid, Varro chuckled and mused*
Varro: Didn't I just say 'no, you may not touch my face'?
*The dwarf raised both fists* Have at you then shapechanger!
*It was becoming such a common occurrence that he'd gotten used to the bar fights by now - and how to deal with them.*
Varro: First off *In an ever so dignified manner, he passed a hand again over his mouth, cleaning up the sanguine humors that spilled forth at his words.* Just because I decline your request does not mean I am the one you are referring to. Next, it would be polite to wait until I'd a chance to set my drink down. Lastly, disputes such as these are nothing which can't be resolved by a little music and dancing. *The whole of his speech, he'd been flamboyantly waving his arms about. With wide and rageful eyes, the dwarf realized Varro had been casting a spell towards the end part of his 'speech.' There was a sparkling, and promptly the dwarf began to uncontrollably do a jig atop the chair*

*Leaving the fellow to his dancing, Varro clambered up the ladder to the upper level of the Phoenix. He was about to head to the bar for another round of drink from the warforged tender, when a form materialized in front of him. This was not so unusual - folk teleported here, there, and everywhere in the city. Varro moved to go around them to the bar. It was then that Varro got the most distinct feeling that he was being stared at. It was none other than the form of the newly arrived person that met his gaze. The man was wearing a vestment of swirling deep purple and blue hues, and he looked very stately. His hair was short kept, and he bore well groomed mutton chops along his jaw, and a tuft of grey hair upon his chin, not terribly dissimilar to Varro's choice in grooming. He bore a shield with a symbol Varro didn't recognize - yellow, and like the skewered rays of the sun.

With a smile, Varro gave a bow to the gentleman and motioned for Cog for two rounds of the wine and glowing blue bottle this time. The stranger stared back at him with a knowing smile, but as yet, neither moved nor spoke. Varro went for a table, and gestured forth stranger to have a seat. Varro then decided to address the stranger in the manner he suspected they'd be most accustomed to... mentally.*
Varro: <Are you quite done with your little show, Mekari? You have to be the most audacious woman in all the plane, especially showing up here of all places after the incident last time>
*Varro received no reply to his comments except for the continued smiling*
Varro: <Nice look by the way. I dare say a nice change of pace from that ghastly drow guise. Won't do you much good though. You do realize the minute Uxor shows up here, she'd know it was you.> *He pushed the other glass towards the chair opposite of him, but still got no response.>
Varro: <Not thirsty? Fine. I can tell you're up to something anyway. What do you want tonight?>
<You have been chosen> *came the reply to Varro's mind. The bard's demeanor changed at that. In no way did it 'feel' like Mekari in the least. It felt different than any contact of this sort he'd experienced before. Considering the appearance, among other qualities, Varro suspected his guest to be something entirely different.*
Varro: <Oooh, I see. Well, how interesting to meet an agent of the dreaming dark up close and personal, rather than by proxy. To what do I owe the pleasure, Inspired? What have I been 'chosen' for? I assure you, I am no vessel if that was the meaning.>
*The smiling man moved towards him, and Varro felt the mental tone become more direct* <You are chosen. The rulers of revelry, of merriment, and of celebration smile upon your works, minstrel of Stormreach. Are you prepared to receive their gifts mortal?>
*Varro blinked a moment, then started to lightly chuckle*
Varro: <You're serious? Well, who shall I say is bringing this 'good news' mister...>
<I am the herald of they who hold you presently in a favored light.>
Varro: <Eh, right. Well, what say you be a good chap and let me drink in peace, mister nameless herald.>
*The smile faded from the grey haired man's face* <The favor of the gods is not to be taken lightly.>
Varro: <Look, I don't know what you are or what plane you come from, but this has been very entertaining. I'm sure you'd enjoy nothing better than seeing me groveling for mercy at your feet, petrified with awe of the gods... but overly forceful presence and telepathy do not a god make. So how about you tell me why you're really here then, hm? Unless this was it, in which case then I KNOW my mother sent you, because it's crazy enough of...>
*The figure swirled his arms, and there was a burst of twinkling golden light that erupted at the table. Varro shielded his eyes, and recognized the vision and sounds that played about him. It was a sphere of dancing, very much like his own. The lights, hypnotic drumming,  and encircling colors were unmistakable. Though Varro found he didn't feel like dancing. The display was enough that he was taken a bit aback by it as he looked round. Then his eyes narrowed on the form, which stood passively before him still.*
Varro: <Impressive. How did you get around the wardings to cast that? There are protective forces in the city to prevent it, and I'd be interested to know how you mana...>
*More figures materialized around Varro, and he stood up abruptly at the sight of the pack of kobolds that appeared from, as near as he could tell, thin air. He heard a voice cry out behind him.*
"Sweet mother of all bearded folk! We're under attack!" *the dwarf he'd set to dancing had broken free of his spell, and apparently come across the scene. Varro threw a glance at the bar, and the sight of Cog cowering back was further confirmation that this indeed was not merely optical tricks visible to Varro alone. Before Varro could say or do anything, the dwarf charged upon the closest of the kobolds with a huge axe in hand. The axe of course had been intended for the minstrel, but the notion was put aside at the unusual appearance of the kobolds in the Phoenix. The little kobold took the blow indifferently, and despite the great strength of the strike, it was barely scratched by the dwarf's efforts.*
"Demons! Demons have beset the tavern!" *cried the frantically attacking dwarf, who was then joined by several others who, until that moment, had watched all in confusion.
Varro meanwhile had tried to perform his song to quell the creatures, but they seemed unaffected by the tune. Never before had Varro's song failed him. He backed away from the chaos, almost into the grey stranger. Whirling round, he called forth the full range of his magical prowess upon this strange visitor...
It was like trying to focus his energy on a void. He could not even feel resistance from the figure to the attempt, as his concentration searched out for something to take hold over. Then the mental voice of the stranger spoke, calling upon Varro by name... by Varro's true name.*

*Varro dropped the wine glass he'd been holding onto the floor, and he felt hysteria welling up quickly in himself. What was happening? Even if this was not a god, it was certainly someone he could not match. If it were a god...*
<All of your questions will be resolved> *came the voice in answer to Varro's steadily deteriorating internal monologue. The form of the grey haired being resumed the smiling as Varro rattled off the only intelligible sentences he could manage*
Varro: <Why are you here? What do you want from me? Who are you? WHAT are you?>
*The form held up its hand, and Varro stilled his questioning*
<You are favored, minstrel. As I was explaining before your rudeness, I am the Avatar of Celebration, come to bestow the gifts of They who have chosen you.> *At the mention of his behavior, Varro bowed low to the form, and remained there, staring at the ground. He could think of nothing else in the way of cordial behavior towards a god, in his increasing panic. Why was a god here for him?*
<I am an Avatar minstrel, not a god. Though I suppose by your fathoming, it is as well to call me one.>

*Varro's eyes widened as he stared at the ground, knowing with certainty now that whatever passed through his thoughts, this being would know them. He tried to focus on the situation at hand, rather than trying to stuff away fleeting images that the Avatar would have awareness to anyway. The sounds of combat still rang out as the other patrons steadily assaulted the impassive, but formidable, kobold apparitions*
Varro: <Am I dead?>
*the figure smiled* <Is that your desire?>
Varro: <NO no no, let's not jump to wishes and desires.  I just don't understand. Why am I favored?>
*The Avatar chuckled at him.* <Because of your great works among the people.>
Varro: <But my works have always been...> *'Idiot', Varro told  himself. 'There's no playing semantics with a god'.* <My acts haven't been for the 'betterment' of people. That they enjoy a fulfilling day is only an added end result, not my aim.>
<We are well aware of your aims, Minstrel. Your efforts have called the attentions of my domain, irregardless of what you were intending to do. Now you are given a choice. Accept the gifts I offer and serve... or reject them.>
Varro: <Serve. What do you mean by 'serve.'?>
<Serve our domain. You have been chosen.>
*This brought Varro to look up from his bowing position, and he eyed the Avatar, as well as the golden symbol upon its shield. Before he could take further thought, the Avatar addressed him.* <I will save you the trouble - This is no sign you have come upon ever before in your life time, Minstrel. Pondering the origin of it will prove fruitless. You either wish to accept, or you do not.>
Varro: <So what you are telling me is... you want me to be some kind of priest, so to speak? Tell me why they have deemed me for this. I am not a particularly religious man. Yes, I have an abstract belief in the powers that be, but I'm no holy man. The festivities I've held in the city were never remotely in honor of the gods. In all honesty, I'm a rather flippant person in terms of loyalties, by the standards of most. Yet you're telling me I am to be chosen of... They who sent you?> *Varro nodded towards the shield symbol.*
<You discredit yourself Minstrel. It is your free spirit and neutrality that make you an ideal servant. For the domain of celebration knows no good nor evil. The wicked may celebrate as readily as the pure, but for different reasons. The tiny hobgoblin rejoices when it finds pleasure, as would the great scaled dragon. The vampire marvels his triumphs in the hunt no differently than the halfling archer in victory. Now it is time to make your choice.>
Varro: <If I should refuse?>
<There will be consequences for accepting, Minstrel. You will be serving the gods until the end of your days on this plane, and perhaps beyond. There are responsibilities... but there is also great joy. Refuse, and nothing ill will come to you of it. However, this opportunity will not be offered again.> *The Avatar held out a hand and in it materialized a scepter with a strange iridescence* <If you accept, you will bare this at all times, as a sign of your devotion. Accept the will of the gods, or deny them.> *The Avatar held up the scepter and awaited his decision.*

*Varro stood up and took a hesitant step towards the scepter. To serve the domain of celebration... or live his life as he saw fit to. He found that rather than thoughts of what would happen if he said yes, his mind turned to what would be if he did NOT accept. What would he miss out on by declining the offer; the offer of a deity no less?
Varro: <If I were to choose, there is no going back is there?>
<No Minstrel. To accept is to undergo all that comes with service to our domain. To deny is to be forever deprived of it. Make your choice.>
*Varro felt a wave of coldness wash over him, as his hand met the scepter, and he heard the words* <... for all you do for the people.> *and things became a haze. All vision fell away from him, until the only sensation he was left with was the cold, and disorientation.*

*Varro started up in the bed, shaken awake by the sensation of falling. He realized the cold sensation he felt was Uxor, lying next to him asleep. It took a moment for him to comprehend where he was. He was in his bed at home. It was not yet dawn. Relief washed over him.

It had been a while since he'd had so vivid a dream. He watched Uxor sleeping, as she shifted somewhat. She must have inched towards him in the night. Her skin was unnaturally cold, like a corpse - but soft - and it was taking him some getting used to. Her icy skin brushing against him must have been what caused him to wake. He started to try and curl up with her again, but she began to fuss, and she scoffed with a hiss - her mute way of showing objection to something - at him. She swatted as if to say 'quit it.' Then Varro felt something beneath the pillow near her that practically cut him. No wonder she was fussing. He must have come to bed with weapon in hand in a drunken state. Why she'd stayed in bed for that was beyond him. Out of a desire to make up for her disrupted sleep, he pulled the thing out, and as it shimmered in his grasp when he pulled it from beneath the pillow, he nearly shrieked at the sight of the iridescent  scepter.*
<You don't want to wake her do you?> *came an alarmingly familiar voice in Varro's head*

((c'mon gang, +Sir is itchin to read our stories ^^

(OOh come now, not even one little account of your mysterious encounter in the Jorasco Foyer? ^^ You dont have to have an ongoing saga. The aim here is really just to kinda put a new perspective on what your character thinks of having been confronted by a demi-god lol.

If it helps inspire you, as I realize I'm still writing this part of it since some of Varro's dealings with the Avatar backdate the rest of yours, see if these dont spawn any neat ideas in terms of your characters encounters:

1. Varro has some trouble getting people to believe him about the existance of the Avatar. Up until the dance party in the Jorasco Foyer, the existence of the Avatar was largly being regarded as simply a figment of Varro's imagination oO
2. No one has seen the gifts of which the Avatar has so far refered to. Varro has not publicly displayed them.
3. The Avatar appears in many forms. Were any of you at the Sharks & Minnows when he stripped down to nothing and ran with everyone in the game?? Or the night of the kobolds in the Phoenix. Those of you who were there can feel free to give YOUR character's perspective on the sudden appearence of a disco ball + kobolds in a place that is supposed to be warded from such things!
4. How many of you spent time talking to him during the hide & seek? Remember as a demi-god he can talk to your head without you needing to see him ^^
5. Your stories don't have to be 100% accurate to your encounter, just inspired by it. For example, I portray Varro as being in the Phoenix getting in a barfight, then accepting the scepter. This is only partly true. Varro was playing fight club when the Avatar appeared, and the offering from him was for the titan wand... or a roll. Obviously I skipped right to the scepter part because that aspect fit with the story of Varro. That is to say, my decision to sacrifice a 'normal' in game life for the life of an event host. I further more go on to portray Varro at home talking with the Avatar. That of course is not possible in game, as we have no 'homes' per say, and the conversations I've had with the Avatar have been entirely out of character.
6. You can find ways to encorporate in-game mechanics into your story. For example, when those kobolds died in the Jorasco Foyer, they left a collectable. It was just a regular old string of prayer beads. But how cool is it to say they are prayer beads gifted from the minions of an Avatar?? hehehe.

So go nuts! If anything, let this be a nice place to stretch your creative legs. and there is no better place for practice than here. I will not post your stories in their raw form. I will make an announcement before I transfer them over, so that way if you want/need to go back and revise part of the story you still can.

you forget uxor/varro/other that I have never actually met +sir. I had to leave Hide and seek early and wasnt there for when sharks and minnows happened. I dont think its fair if I try to portray somebody that I have never even seen,(other than when he taunted me in Hide and Seek)

zoltando said: