In search of a Bell {Open}

[ExlMagician]

"...Oh the trekking has been perilous and the air so dry, but coming here to Tirin has near made me cry! For the beauty that I find here and the magic in the sky, has brought to me a surety that I am ever nigh." The ending of the song came with light musical wisps through the air, circling the group of children that sat giggling at Frost's most dramatic form. hours had past since the sun had kissed the sky in Amoury but candles and lanterns held by the children, caused lights to dance on his tan skin whilst he tapped ever diligent fingers along the top of his Dolourian tambourine. He shook it for the dramatic effect behind his back, for the bronze rattle whilst he bowed, the children's faces lit with anticipation of the next tale.

Lump made a rather hefty grunt, which made some of the parents shift uncomfortably, but Frost paid them no never mind. Most those that listened to his stories would put up with the bump's rather melodious and girthy noises, especially since Frost had written so many songs about his companion now that children were more inclined to accept the beast. It was then though, that Frost hooked up his tambourine, pulling out a rather small wooden flute that created the sounds of the vary winds about them, blowing across the tops of the holes, while the instrument itself lay flat in his hand. He knelt beside the children, blowing softly across the holes that entranced the children as the noises circled them. Sleep seemed to tug at their eyelids while he knelt down alongside them. It stayed quiet like that for what seemed like forever, causing the young one's to falter in their wakefulness and slowly go to their parents.

It was a strange magic in a bard's lungs and his fingers was one rarely questioned. Some rumors were that they could set you into a trance for the remainder of your days, living the life they set before you instead of the life they longed for. Others claimed it was far more fierce that one might charm you to walk yourself into an unending chasm, never to be seen again. Whatever the case was, something about them kept a mother's lips silent and a father's words trapped from ridicule. Once he stopped his soft whispers and tune, Hazeleaf returned to his bump, hooking the instrument into some unseen little pouch, allowing the parents to take them home for a long night's peaceful rest. Diligent fingers ran over Lump's head, "Good boy, Lump." He whispered to him, letting the beast know that it was time that he could to rest.

It was here in Amoury that he intended on finding the next piece of his puzzle. Once the midnight hour had passed, he would search out the elder and get the answers he so desperately sought after.

[Bunhash]

Perhaps the man had noticed, perhaps he had not. But there were more than just the children and their parents who had enjoyed the stories and music of the night. Some passing couples had halted with arms full of grain or rice and listened with happy smiles. The bard was welcomed here, though a rarity in these parts. Amoury was a poorer town, made mostly of farmers and hard working men and their families. A singing, story-telling wood elf was something you'd probably find in the king's palace only. Not that anyone was complaining.

As the parents took away their children for the night, the other watching passer-byers moved on as well. When all were gone, it was a single man left standing there, away from the light. If it was not for his light clothing, the man would have blended in with the darkened sky. It would have been the glowing glyphs on his face and crown that gave away his position at the night.

Silently, the man moved forward. There was a regal movement in his step and an ease that suggested experience. What was lacking was a poor will. This man gave off a friendly feel about him. "My good friend, Hazeleaf. It's a surprise to see you again." His voice was smooth as silk and hinted with pleasure. The man seemed genuinely pleased to see the Elf once more. But where had they met? "I am Naf'or. We met in the desert. Surely a Bard would not forget."

[ExlMagician]

"Naf'or. oh my friend, I can't imagine how the road has been since we last crossed paths." Frost greeted his Ashtel friend with a swooping bow, and lingered there for a moment, allowing that elusive mark of royalty for Naf'or's position before standing. There wasn't a face a bard forgot and Frost had a memory sharp as a thistle or the crack of a whip. He couldn't help but laugh with merriment while he stood, before hugging his extremely tall friend. "Oh the desert left my voice a bit worse for wear but thanks to our joyful meeting I am not short on stories for these young people." Of course any elf his age could call most people young.

He noted the regal man's off-put feelings as he was hugged, but they accepted one another quite well and bards got away with much more than most people ever would. Lump made a noise, and Frost tipped his head before realizing that his bump had wandered off a ways to Naf'or's Kneyhoi, chuckling to see them grunting and nudging at one another. The netting clunked with a hallow wooden tone as they made friendly inclinations at one another. "I see Lump missed his friend as well. It is indeed a can be a relief to find friends. Lump so rarely makes merry with other herd animals. They look down on him for his... rather rustic appearance." Frost adored his bump and hardly faltered to imagine that it was the fault of other animals to be snooty toward Lump's rather unsightly appearance.

The reappearance of his friend though, brought the wintry gleam to Frost's eyes as he swept an arm about him. "Can you imagine that Oranoma would lead us here together? Oh the power such a traveler has that I wish I held half his cunning in every fiber of my being! I'm sure you can guess, but here, HERE is where I will find the next piece. He said nothing of the sign but just that I would be greeted by friendly eyes toward the amorous sheen of the turquoise ship!" Frost made emphasis on all the right words, and couldn't help but seep excitement from every word. "The Bell!"

[Bunhash]

Indeed. Naf'or was terribly uncomfortable by the embrace. The Ashtel were barely physical with their wives and children, let alone new friends. Still, he didn't move to de-tangle the bard from himself, simply allowed him to finish his hug and release on his own accord. It was a kind thing to do, his father said to him, "Don't seek to force your ways on those who don't understand them, but don't push away the ways of others if they feel so inclined to share them with you."

He did feel relief when the touch was over though and shifted the smallest bit to right his slinging clothing. "I am very glad you and your companion have benefited from our meeting. It gives purpose to chance." Naf'or took a single step back as Frost swung an arm out dramatically.

He wasn't exactly sure what the Bard was going on about next however. Perhaps he had missed something from the desert and it made him feel shame for not knowing if he was supposed to. He did not mention it though and pondered on the last words his friend spoke; "...would be greeted by friendly eyes toward the amorous sheen of the turquoise ship!" It meant very little to him other than the sea. "Will that lead you to the coast, my friend?" he asked, thinking perhaps it did.

[ExlMagician]

The Ashtel's few words were the kind that Frost enjoyed listening to. They were short but to the point and obvious where many tried to be elusive. Of course Frost found often that his own words were befuddling to most. It was the fault at writing so many tales that the fancy lyrical way of mixing words came out in his everyday speech. After a short lived huffing at himself because o this mistake he nodded once, quite pleased that even through all that Naf'or managed the question that yet scried from his own vision. "Indeed. This is the last place upon the map that my dear friend has set forth for me to venture. Though I've only bits and pieces of his meaning as to where on the coast I am to head, I am told that the town elder has a message for me of grave import. One that is riddled for a rhyme and just what I need to locate the port where I will find the ship."

'A golden boat with pearls studded in the deck and turquoise sails that flapped desperately in the wind while it waits to take its humble sailor.' Yes that was the tale that Frost had shared with Naf'or. A ship so bold was one not easily found, but Frost spoke often in code. It was most likely a fine ship indeed, one with blue sails and fanciful white wood decks. Something not narrowly as extravagant, but the idea of something so miraculous was far more encouraging for the travel. "Have you any clue my friend as to the hour though? I've seem to have lost track of time in my stupor and I was suppose to meet the elder just past the hour of midnight..." Time was hard to tell in Terra, and with a Bard's sense of time it wasn't uncommon for him to be late to everything.

[Bunhash]

The dark skinned man nodded slowly while listening to the Bard. It was good-natured of someone to never interrupt someone while speaking and to acknowledge what they're saying so they do not think they are not being heeded. Such common courtesies were ingrained into the high class man. Once there was a pause for him to interject, he did so with an even tone, "The time." He needed a further moment of silence to figure the time from the night's sky. The answer would either please or displease the bard. "It is barely passed the child's sleep hour. Which, if I am correct, is the 20th hour of the full day." Or Eight O'Clock at night. There was nearly four hours left before the bard needed to seek out the village elder.

With a gentle wave of his right hand, the Ashtel motioned toward an inn nearby. It was rather old, but had bright lights through the window and a homey look about it instead of a beaten one. "Since we have the time for now, might you join me in the inn? I have a room here, but they also serve good, warm food. I would like to treat a friend."

[ExlMagician]

"A novel idea!" Frost chirped, making a soft click with his tongue at the end of the words. The noise brought a grunt from his bump, but it ignored him while a moment longer before slowly acknowledging his friend an heading toward him, knocking him off his feet with a nudge of his rather wet nose. Quiet laughter rang out before he climbed to his feet, nodding his friend to come along as he headed toward the stable on the side of the inn. He knew better than to enter empty handed to house a bump in the modest inn's stable, and as the soft crunch of newly harvested hay greeted his ears, Frost hoisted his sack of moneys up from his waist, waving kindly to stable boy.

"Hello my good man." Lump, was not so courteous, not waiting before entering the warm safety of the stable, causing some horses to whiny and others shift uncomfortably. "Now, now, wait your turn," He placed a curled hand on the mushy beast's noggin, nudging him to stay back before returning attention to him. "I greatly apologize for him, sometimes Lump forgets his place." He pulled a few silvers from his purse, always grossly over paying for his moody carrier's temperament. "I ask only that you feed him, and give him sufficient water. He can be a bit moody, which I apologize for, but believe me, for your troubles I am forever indebted."

The stable seemed more than a bit apprehensive about the vulgar animal and just as his lips parted in protest the coins found there way to his palm, silencing him. "The netting is simple to remove and the instruments will come off with the netting as long as you treat them properly and I imagine you will treat them properly." Another moment of protest silenced by another set of coins, "as well as my friend here please? His Kneyhoi is a great friend of Lump's and will his presence and care would earn you a high regard for him."

Eyes shifted from Frost, to the bump, and its smelly rolls, to the Kneyhoi and it's ower. "I swear lords... it will be done." He allowed the moment frost took to removed three packs from the netting, obviously valuables were kept within them with the care he took with the bags, before watching the stable hand lead Lump, without touching his hide to the corner stall. "Shall we?" Frost smiled to his friend. He use to have far more manners with people of the sort, but after one too many insults to Lump's pride, he had taken to cutting off their protests and paying whatever he needed.

[Bunhash]

Naf'or had no poor impression of the elf for being so forward about the arrangements. He himself sometimes had to do dealings in such a manner. "Well done my friend." he said while the pair left the stable and headed for the inn's rough looking, front door "You see, not all races are accustomed to all others. My race frightens some and certain strong tactics are required. Nothing harmful, but very alike to your method regarding your companion, Lump." He did approve, it was in his voice. For being a man of little emotion, he wore them on his sleeve.

As they came to the door, the taller man reached out his arm and pressed against the wood. It opened without an complaint, rather like the place was happy to allow people in. He held the door for the bard then would enter after him. They were greeted swiftly by the words of a brisk looking man behind the bar, "Ah bloomin' gud night t'ya Telly-sir." Telly being a shortened version of Ashtel. "N blimy if it ain't the elf that musta bin singin' ta those chiddles earlier. Welcome sirs. What can I get fer yas?"

Naf'or nodded politely to the older man and said, "Good evening to you as well. My friend here is called Frost Hazeleaf, indeed the Bard you mentioned. We were interested in a table for supper."

The man came around the bar with more speed than seemed in him and ushered them toward a table in the corner. "This be alright? We'v got some faaaantastic roast duck n onion soup t'night n some fresh, warm bread. Interested?"

[ExlMagician]

Duck! Oh a supremely tasty meat and one that Frost had quite a taste for. He preferred the succulent flavors of citrus with the fine meats, but he wasn't concerned. Sweeping the thick yellow cloak over his shoulder, Frost took up a chair and relaxed into with a deep sigh. "Oh I thank you my good man. I can't enough express just how delicious it all sounds. You could interest me in a canary dipped in a vat of oil at this point. I am indeed starving. Bring me an orange with that duck and I will forever be in your debt."

Frost bowed his head, trying to enjoy the sounds and smells of the warming atmosphere. No place compared with that of a small town and its inn. It could pass as some sort of heaven to Frost. You could hear the stories you once told, retold on a bar stool to the resound clink of a familiar piano, or relax as the soft voice of a warbling waitress warmed his heart. "My friend there can be no coincidence I have come across you in such a manner, or reverse that statement as it is you that has found me." The innkeeper's wife gleamed and he recognized her from the crowd earlier. She made him at welcome and Naf'or by two mugs of mead for the two without even a request.

"My lords you are both welcome as long as possible. I can not thank you enough for your generosity and demeanor." She gave Naf'or a small sack of cheeses, which caused Frost to chuckle. For whatever reason he could not decide, people continually were giving him cheeses. The first time he had met him he'd done the same because of sharing tent, but now random bar maids? It made him wonder and internalize a song about it.

[Bunhash]

The keep was quick to head back with their meals. His wife was just leaving as he came back with the steaming bowls of soup, a hefty loaf of warm bread, a slab of fresh cream butter and two oranges. They were hard to come by and would be expensive but it seemed that the keep knew they would be wanted and paid for. Naf'or had already made an impression money-wise as Frost would learn in due time.

Naf'or was thankful for the mead and cheese and food. He bowed his head slightly and spoke a prayer quietly, but not too much that it was private from Frost. It was in the man's native language and thanked Aboshan for the knowledge of the world, His gift of magik and his love that they could all grow to be part of all things that grow and live now.

He then got to eating his soup. It was warm and slightly sweet from the caramelized onions. The duck gave it a rich, oily taste that was pleasing to the palate. Perhaps there was a little too much salt for his taste, but it didn't stop him enjoying it greatly. When he was ready to take a piece of bread he spoke to the bard, "So where exactly are you to meet your elder friend tonight? Would you mind some company?" he raised his glowing eyes to the Bard's face and took a bite of the bread, thick with some butter. It was so very nice.

[ExlMagician]

The nearing of the soup brought a glee to Frost's face, perking up to sit straight backed in his chair and flicking his sleeves up to his elbows to prevent from some delicious duck soup being wasted. The sight of the orange made his eyes into saucers, his fingers longing to reach out and snatch one, but he respected his graces well and waited until they had both taking draws from their soup before slowly reaching for the dripping fruit.

"I am to meet him just a short ways," he sliced into the fruit so that it made rings, setting them into a stack, "beneath the lantern lit, grain mill. He wished that we waited for all hours to be gone with. My dear friend mentioned the village does not do well with rumors, nor does any man in search of a good clean home... "Frost began to ramble on about the makings of a true man and how one never made unnecessary rumors which could lead to trouble for some men, despite his own currant state of employ, before tucking a piece of orange into his cheek to suck on.

He had the manners of a man at court though. If his mouth didn't run like the rivers in the north, then one might have guess Frost for royal. "Still, this exploit of mine would give him more grief from other men, so I am merely greeting him for a late night chat on directions to the nearest... instrument acquisition establishment." A folly to cover up where he was headed so that surrounding people wouldn't get curious. "I would more than welcome your presence. A man can never have too many friends."

[Bunhash]

Naf'or didn't reach for an orange himself. He was pleased with the bread and the soup.. and a piece of cheese or two. He could tell it was such a joyful thing for the elf to be able to enjoy such a rarity as the orange. He smiled a little and nodded as he was invited to come along.

After a short time, the Ashtel dabbed his lips with a napkin and spoke conversationally, "Since we have some time. Would you like a story to take with you? I know a bard takes with him new stories from everywhere he goes." Naf'or folded his hands on the table. He was giving his stomach a rest before continuing further with his food. He had hardly touched his mead though. It seemed he wasn't much of a drinker.

[ExlMagician]

The prospect of receiving an Ashtel tale was like being given the gift of a new instrument, or being wed to a beautiful woman. To Frost a story was that and more, like joining of a spirit. He nodded his head, dipping a piece of his buttered bread into the soup, in anticipation. "Please. There is nothing finer." He too pushed away the wine. For all the stories that the wood elf created he had the pleasure of saying not once was he drunken while creating them. It added to his credibility and made everything so much more sweet. Even the taste of the food was more rich in his mouth, decadence, filling and finding every taste bud at the prospect of sharing such an intimate thing with his friend. "I am yours friend, please."

[Bunhash]

The man gave a slight bow of the head acknowledging the elf. Moments passed as he gathered his thoughts. A man to their right coughed into his mug of beer, sloshing it. A woman near the window gave a flirty laugh and gave her husband (or lover) and little kiss. The Ashtel noticed little of it. He closed his eyes and began to speak. "This is a story. A very true one so perhaps it's safer to call it a recollection." His fingers shifted, unfolding from each other, just to lie flat over one another. "A man was born 600 years ago, almost at the beginning of the age. He was born as one of the lowest class. He was not a man then, only a child. But oh the man he would become."

"His father and mother passed on before his birthright ceremony. The child's parents were so unknown, their marks were not recorded. When it came time for him to become a man, there were no glyphs to pass to him. He would be known as the child forever. He would never be given a wife, he would die reached and disgraced before his time." Naf'or waited a moment before carrying on.

"And so he left. He cast away his name and fled his hometown. He took a ferry to the mainland then wandered the lands. He prayed to Aboshan to show him the way, what it was to be his destiny." Naf'or's eyes opened and he looked at his companion, "There was no answer for many long years. He had no magik of his own, could not read. He had his hands which were strong. He prayed daily, his strength coming from his faith. His destiny revealed itself only near his dying days."

A hint of pride touched his voice at this point. "He came across a team of demons. They were cruel and foul. They had found a party of Ashtel come from the homeland. They were dying to these demons. Strength overcame him then. It was as if Aboshan had reached down and breathed over him, gracing him with his true ability. He raised his hands to the sky then brought down with them a terror rain of bright light and shocking pain. Each demon lie dead on the floor. He had saved the people who he had left." More time passed then. It was as if he were letting the story settle in. He finished the story with even more pride in his voice now.

"They brought him home, told his tale. The Vihar heard of his devotion to Aboshan and his hidden strength. He granted him a wife, with whom he had a son before he passed on and had been granted the title of Rhal'laae and was given land and many gifts. He was my great grandfather. I am so proud." He nodded as he completed the retelling then added, "I am sorry I do poorly with telling stories."

[ExlMagician]

With great admiration, Frost smiled and rested his hand very temporarily on those of Naf'or. "My friend. There is an art to sing songs and elaboration, but nothing can be said of the true honor it takes to tell a story so brave and so true. It honors me to be in the presence of a man with such lineage, and more so to have your trust in such a recollection. I swear to you it will not be repeated without your consent, as such intimate details are yours to give, but with your permission, I would love to share his life with others." It warmed his heart better than th soup did to have Naf'or tell him such things. He was a bard, and as such many people told him their stories and many people's had no one thing they could be marked for in their tales, but this one was one that would bring glory to the brave and the all knowing Aboshan.

Finishing the last of his soup, Frost realized just how intent he had been upon the Ashtel's story, for he had finished without even noticing his food. It mattered little though, he was full and that was all that mattered. That and the single one thing he wanted that most establishments such as this could not really provide. Cold water. He noted the time, pushing away from the table as he gathered himself, brushing down his sleeves and leaving a few coins for their trouble. Hunting through the bag he kept with him, Frost pulled out the hide map that he had shown his friend earlier in their meeting, tucking it under his arm, along with small wooden box that fit in the palm of his hand. "Shall we?"