Gyrfalcon

Well, if you're a Gyr, you're a Gyr. To all Gyrfalcon-types out there, sword classes are held early in the morning. =D

Salinye smiled as they sat together on the Mighty Couch in the Confessional, the bar only semi-busy this time of the night, night owls such as Yui-chan and Merelas chatting quietly, while off to the side Annael smiled and rubbed Daryl’s furry chin, causing the werefox to thump his tail happily against her thigh. “GyrE?” Salinye whispered, and Gyrfalcon bent his head towards her slightly. “You mentioned a candle-lit dinner and a night of dancing a while back...” she noted. The half-elf smiled, gently brushing back that persistent strand of blond hair, tucking it behind a pointed ear. “I did. And now that you’ve won me, it would make a great way of fulfilling the date.” Salinye laughed softly and shook her head, hair dropping across her face before she pushed it back. “Trust a ranger to avoid giving me two dates.” she teased. Gyrfalcon laughed in response. “We are known for being practical.” he teased back. Salinye only shook her head, smiling. “Well, tell me where and when, GyrE.” she said. “Hm... I’ll do that. I need to make a few plans before I have a definite date set.” the half-elf said, mind already racing and a plan beginning to form... but it’d involve a fair amount of planning and coordination to pull it off. “What are you thinking about?” Salinye said, smiling at the distant look in his eyes. “Oh, nothing, just thinking evil, sneaky thoughts.” Gyrfalcon replied with a grin. “You’re always thinking those kinds of thoughts, ranger!” she said, laughing helplessly. “I suppose I am, but I did learn from the best.” he said with a wink. “Oh, and who’s that?” “You of course!” “Are you calling me evil and sneaky, ranger?” she said, mock-offended. “You call yourself evil all the time, and may I recall my birthday? You’re quite sneaky!” Salinye laughed helplessly and fell back on an older tactic. “Am not!” “Are too!” “Am not!” “Are too!” On the nearby couch, Annael shook her head with a smile and continued to scritch Daryl’s chin, amused by the two’s playful bickering. “Do you have a lady friend Daryl?” she asked, and he nodded his head against her hand, eyes closed and tail thumping happily with the scratching. “Did you two ever have so much trouble admitting you were in love?” she asked, and this time his chin moved side to side on her finger. “What was your secret?” she asked, smiling at the werefox’s enjoyment. Daryl shrugged his shoulders and yerfed for a long while. Annael shook her head and gently brushed a black feather from Daryl’s flank. “I’ll act like I understood that, alright?” she said. Daryl settled himself down and closed his eyes, murring happily. he yerfed.

Sure thing, Stick. When you find some time, I'll be a willing customer again.

Hah, happy birthday you two! Hope you enjoy your birthday immensely.

Hey, happy birthday and I hope you enjoy your present to yourself.

Heh, congratulations to the other bachelors. Salinye and Katzaniel, if you'd like to PM me, we can discuss what you want your respective bachelors to do.

Gyrfalcon sipped from his wine glass, casually glancing at the dais where Garon Attaway and Salinye held attendance over the dinner party. The two seemed locked in friendly conversation, Garon doing his utmost to be charming and Salinye smiling warmly in response. Warmly if you didn’t know her as well as Gyrfalcon did – he could tell that her smile lacked the true warmth of happiness behind it and was merely an excellent polite smile. Turning his attention back to the table, Gyrfalcon smirked to himself as he considered his dinner companions. Gabriel had kept mostly quiet during the meal, spending his time intently eyeing the half-elf, gauging the ranger’s reactions to their other dinner companions, six of the more lovely women in a city of beautiful women. Gyrfalcon might not have caught on to their game if it was not obvious that each was focusing solely on Gyrfalcon, despite the lure of a powerful, handsome lord from their own city sitting at the same table. While the half-elf may be exotic in his outlandishness, his manners were those of any high elf lord, and he wasn’t any more attractive then Gabriel was. And he was a half-elf. Obviously, his dinner companions had been chosen carefully, perhaps by Gabriel as a test of Gyrfalcon’s loyalty to Salinye, most likely by Garon to divert the half-elf and make the noble’s efforts to secure Salinye’s affections easier. Once the half-elf had discerned the game that the women were playing, he found their attention grating. Every time he attempted to change the subject – about himself – the women doggedly returned to probing questions about his background. Perhaps most men would be thrilled to receive so much attention from several beautiful women, but Gyrfalcon was not most men. Yet if he was to be invited to more of these events, then he could not pass himself off as a simple bore. Instead it had almost becomes a game of sparring, with the half-elf offering answers that were truthful, but only part of the truth to their incessant questions. Through all of this, perhaps the easiest dinner companion for the ranger was the silver-haired beauty, Shey’alis. Unlike the other women, she gracefully took the hint when the half-elf subtly suggested that he would like to be able to enjoy at least some of the meal and helped him deflect the topic to current events in the city. Given time to finally enjoy a bit of dinner and a different topic, Gyrfalcon found Shey’alis charming and exotic, as well as accepting of Gyrfalcon’s lack of willingness to talk about himself further that evening. The two easily conversed, and though Gyrfalcon did not consciously know it, his heart leapt a bit with every winsome smile she directed his way. And Gabriel studied the half-elf and his reactions closely as he sipped at his wine. Eventually the desert plates were cleared away and Garon Attaway stood and held out his hand to Salinye. She took it and gracefully rose to stand at his side. “We thank you for your attendance this evening, my lords and ladies, and hope that you found your meal excellent.” Garon said, smiling easily, a hand resting on Salinye’s arm, their fingers still interlaced. “We hope to see all of you again soon.” the lord finished with a bright smile. A polite applause rose, and he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. Salinye smiled by his side, her cheeks bearing a faint blush. Gyrfalcon applauded with the rest of the diners, but his eyes were focused on Salinye, and his expression remained polite, even when a woman nearby remarked to her friend about how beautiful the two looked standing there. As Gyrfalcon began to make his goodbyes to the women who had shared the table with Gabriel and the ranger, Shey’alis turned a disarmingly winsome smile on the ranger. “I’m afraid I don’t have an escort, m’lord No’Dessu. And while the streets of Fe’Thwyn are as safe as any in the realm, a woman is still safer with an escort. Could you walk me to my home?” Gyrfalcon smiled politely and bowed. “No gentleman would leave a lady without a proper escort.” he assured her. “I would be pleased to escort you to your home.” Shey’alis beamed at his words, while behind the half-elf, Gabriel frowned to himself. After making the appropriate goodbyes, the two left the party and walked down the broad, green-leafed avenues as night was falling and the fireflies began to emerge to flitter about, glowing softly in the faint moonlight. Neither of the two were much disconcerted by the darkness, for elven night vision was excellent, and here and there in the trees, small lamps began to glow with a bluish light, casting everything in soft shadows. “I thank you for a wonderful evening.” Shey’alis said as they turned off the avenue and moved towards a richly appointed if small mansion. “I should thank you for the same, m’lady Shey’alis.” the half-elf responded, smiling. “Please, simply call me Shey’alis.” she protested. “Only if you call me Gyrfalcon, Shey’alis.” he responded with a chuckles. She smiled in response. “Of course, Gyrfalcon.” The two reached the door step and Shey’alis turned to face Gyrfalcon. “I don’t suppose you could give me a goodnight kiss?” she said with a warm smile. Gyrfalcon smiled in response, feeling an overwhelming desire to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. At the last moment, he altered his movements smoothly to gently take her hand and kiss the back of it. Rising, he unsuccessfully attempted to fight down a blush and softly cleared his throat. “Have a good evening, Shey’alis.” he said, bowing to her before returning down the path to city streets, frowning to himself as he walked, his sudden attraction to the mysterious Shey’alis troubling him.

Before she makes two steps, a flying bundle of fur furiously hug-tackles her as best as a fox can, murring happily at her. "Bad Daryl!" Ayshela said, trying frantically to remove the fox... and coincidentally slowing her steps as she does so, making her a perfect target for the next hugtackle.

*the half-elf cheers on his friend's continuing efforts! (IE, write you!)*

Ah, today's been a good night for humor- first a few hours of Robin Williams standup comedy, and then reading Wyv's quiz.

Heh, I had liked the Sephiroth sprite actually. *grins* It seems your banner and desktop links aren't working at the moment- Geocities protesting the linking or something, most likely.

Gyrfalcon grins as he sets a jingling pouch in front of Stick. "Fifteen geld, my friend. I assume you know me pretty well, but if you need a reminder: Physical: Suntanned, with green eyes and wavy dark brown hair. roughly 6' tall, well-muscled from all the things he does as a ranger. slightly pointed ears with the points usually hidden by his hair, but can poke out as ye wish. Clothing: brown and green clothing, with a dark green cloak. Normally has a katana strapped to his back and a bag of holding on his hip. Personality: Calm, confident, sort of been everywhere and seen everything sort of attitude at times.

I like it, somewhere between getting everyone to an air raid shelter and sitting down for some good techno. Thought provoking and mind-confusing as always, my friend.

Learn how well you know Gyrfalcon!

Hey, happy birthday, you penguin fanatic you. Hope that it's a good one!

Daryl groggily blinked his eyes open before snapping them shut, the flames before him blinding eyes that were used to darkness. With a groan, he slowly cracked his eyes open and almost wished he had not. Before him was a raging bonfire, and beyond that, dozens of peasants were gathered, feasting and drinking, tossing their rubbish to the ground as they finish whatever was at hand before reaching for another piece of food. Daryl slowly shook his head and carefully considered his situation – bound to a thick pole by several loops of rope, with kindling and broken branches of green wood heaped high around his feet. This was not a good situation, that was for sure. He tried to remember what had landed him in this situation, but kept on coming up blank. Unless his short term memory was completely faulty, he had been having a drink at a tavern. The ale had tasted off, but given the fact it was a small town, it probably hadn’t been brewed very well. He supposed that it had been poisoned with a sleeping draught. Daryl winces as another memory came to him... leaving the tavern and being hit across the back of the head repeatedly with a spade. Obviously, someone really wanted to make sure he stayed down. Across the way, the revelers had finally noticed his movements, and the mood grew somber as the party stopped and a portly man slowly came forward, a baked potato held forgotten in one hand. By his dress, Daryl figured him to be the local priest, especially with the large symbol prominent on his chest, above the mighty swell of his belly. He came to a halt in front of Daryl but stayed well back, highlighted on one side by the fire and the other sunk in shadow. “The demon is at last awake!” he intoned sonorously. “Oh bloody hell.” Daryl muttered to himself, finally comprehending what was occurring. “Gaze upon him, ye all! His vileness is revealed in his eyes, the color of the demon’s eyes!” the priest continued, building into a rolling sermon against Daryl. Daryl’s chuckling interrupted the priest, who came to a halt as Daryl groaned in pain again. “Did whoever hit me have to hit me so many times?” Daryl asked the crowd, who drew back a pace. One man, who previously had been rather proudly holding a battered and slightly blood-stained spade, drew back even further. “Silence, foul demon! You are in league with the creatures of the night, but now you shall be sent to the dread hells for your crimes, and God shall smite you for your sins!” Daryl rolled his eyes, then stared at the priest, his eyes quizzical. “Isn’t a defendant allowed his say?” he asked mildly. “Nay, demon, for you are damned by your eyes, each bearing the malice of the forest wolves that slaughter our herds and take our children!” the priest ranted, his face growing even redder in the fire light as blood rushed to it. “Do you normally spout such garbage?” Daryl growled, his patience ended and his golden eyes reflecting the firelight at the crowd, who stood in a breathless hush0. The priest’s jaw worked soundlessly as he stumbled over the angry insults he wanted to hurl. “Burn him!” someone shouted, and then another, then another. “Burn him, Burn him, Burn him, Burn him!” they chanted. The priest grinned maliciously as he took a burning brand from the fire. “Any last words, demon?” he asked, waving the brand close to the kindling at Daryl’s feet. “Hm... Yup. I’ve got a few. How about ‘Save early, save often’?” Daryl said, smirking. The priest paused, and the crowd’s chant came to a murmured halt in their confusion. “What?” the priest asked. Daryl tipped his head back and considered the low branches overhead. “Hm... I don’t know if I remember the exact quote, but... ‘Reach for the stars and you might catch a handy tree branch.’” As he spoke, he changed forms, going from human to a hybrid mix of human and fox. The crowd erupted in panic, and the priest stumbled away, finally dropping that baked potato to join the rest of the trash on the ground. Daryl used his enhanced strength to snap his bonds, the rope flying apart as he stretched his arms. He crouched and lunged upwards as the priest recovered his wits and rushed forward, setting the oil-soaked wood aflame... but too late, for Daryl was in the branches of the tree above, and then he was simply gone. The party broke apart rather quickly, the peasants walking back to town in small groups, looking about fearfully for the red demon that had broken free, but none of them saw anything. Not even the two who walked with Paitr, found unconscious. Not even Paitr, found unconscious with several large lumps on his head, the spade he had so proudly used to knock the demon unconscious sporting several new dents. A nightingale sang as if his heart was breaking as the sun slowly rose, and Daryl leaned back against a tree trunk and fished his calendar out of his pack, which he had recovered easily from the inn as the owner slept fearfully. His pouch had been taken, of course, but he had remedied that, the priest’s absentmindedness having provided twice over what the werefox thief had originally carried on his journey. Daryl fished out his ink and quill and flipped to the appropriate page. Last night had been Sunday... he scratched that out and looked at his plans. Nothing major, though he was due to meet Gyrfalcon in a week or so. He knew he could make up the lost time easily enough, though. Sunday he had meant to be a day of rest... he guessed Monday would have to do. With a contented sigh, replaced the items in his bag and rested his head back on his rolled up cloak before closing his eyes to doze away the day in the warm sunshine.

The road wound as aimlessly as a centipede through the desert, and the horizon shimmered in the heat of full summer, making even the distant mountains no more then mirages. The constant wind chased tumbleweeds here and there as playfully as any puppy, and the desert lizards scuttled under their rocks to escape the sun’s merciless gaze. Daryl wiped an arm across his streaming brow before replacing the floppy, wilting hat upon his head, even its minimal shade better then nothing. “Next time, I honestly have to take the left turn at Albuquerque.” he said mournfully before continuing his trudge down the road, a long walk ahead of him to the next Portal back to what has become his home.

After review, this topic will be moved and pinned in the Banquet Hall, so it has an event or two in there too. Good luck to all you Haiku people, and if time permits and my limited skill allows, I'll take a shot too.

Wyvern wringed out his sodden tail over the pool below, sighing as the water drizzled down into the pool that he was growing all too well acquainted with. Glumly, he decided that wyverns were not meant to be aquatic. His eyes brightened though when he glanced down at the shiny flicker of the geld at the bottom of the pool, and he decided if he earned a geld every time he was dropped into the pool, it might be worth it. A cleared throat made Wyvern look up, and he blanched when he saw Gyrfalcon and that fox Daryl standing there, a trio of balls resting between Daryl’s paws, and another trio in Gyrfalcon’s hands. “After all those Almost Dragon schemes of yours Wyv... I think I’m going to enjoy this.” Wyvern blanched and held out a hand. “Now Gyr, really, how was I supposed to know that the Almost Draconic Half-elven Ears would catch fire like that, or that they would blame you? I mean, really-“ “Wyv, you marketed those under my name, of course they’d blame me. Granted, everyone believed me when I looked blank, asked what they were talking about, and then said it was probably a scheme of yours. Anyway...” Gyrfalcon’s first shot brushed against target, and Wyvern’s platform wobbled dangerously. With a yelp, Wyv grabbed the edge and held on for dear life. “Gyr, buddy, pal! Look, if this is about the debt, I swear I’ve got this great new scheme that’ll pay it all off, you just got to give me a few weeks and-“ “Wyv, you said that last time.” the next ball brushed the other side of the target, and the platform Wyvern clung to lurched again. “And the time before that, and the time before that, and so on and so forth.” Wyvern gulped nervously. “Please, Gyr, I’ll do anything, just don’t...” the last ball brushed the bottom of the target, and Wyvern froze. But he wasn’t dumped into the water. With a sigh of relief, he straightened and grinned. “I knew I could count on you bud-” the target slowly swung back, and the platform just as slowly swung downwards, causing Wyv to slide right into the pool, sputtering and yelling. Gyrfalcon grinned as Wyvern bobbed, splashing at the water in a vain attempt to swim as the platform rose under him and bore him aloft, streaming. “Gods, I enjoyed doing that.”

Gyrfalcon laughed softly as he took the button she gave him to Salinye, who was still blushing furiously, though she did have a smile still on her lips. With a helpless chuckle, he pinned the button to his tunic and smirked at Daryl, who was getting his chin rubbed. “Are you going to be done any time soon, fuzzface?” Ayshela smiled as she contemplated the clock off to the side. “Two more minutes of cuddling.” she said, glad that the fox’s time was coming up. He might enjoy having his chin rub, but her arm was getting tired from the constant motion. Daryl thumped his tail happily, his brain floating in a warm pool of fuzzy happiness. When he first became a werefox, he never imagined the sheer joy that could be gained from a good, vigorous chin rub and ear scratch. He sighed and thumped his tail a few more times... “Done!” and the happiness causing sensations were removed. Daryl opened his eyes and blinked a few times, then sighed a foxy sigh and rose to give Ayshela a lick on the cheek before tossing a last five geld into the container and hopping down to join his half-elven friend. As he passed Salinye, he grinned and yipped “Nice blush!”, of course causing Salinye to blush again. “You be quiet!” she shouted after him in Fox, then blinked at Ayshela, who was staring. “What?” Salinye said defensively, feeling another blush creep up her cheeks. “Not a thing... but where’d you learn to talk like a fox?” Ayshela replied. “It was all his fault!” “Daryl’s?” “Who else would be at fault?” “Well, maybe you learned from Gyrfalcon... between other things.” Ayshela grinned broadly as she teased her friend. Salinye flushed again. “Shoosh!” Daryl chuckled to himself as he trotted beside Gyrfalcon, his sensitive hearing picking up the conversation behind them. “What’s made you so amused, Daryl?” Gyrfalcon asked curiously. Daryl shook his head, then yerfed and pointed at the sign ahead. Gyrfalcon squinted, then grinned. “A dunk tank... featuring our favorite Almost Dragon... hm... this could have possibilities.” Daryl just grinned, already digging for his money pouch.

Happy belated birthday, busy poster!

Gyrfalcon moved restlessly through the night, his mind preoccupied with the tasks he had laid on himself in the wake of the attack on the Hostel. In addition to ordering up work crews to clean up the piles of ashes that had been left behind by the destroyed undead, he had also been seeing the security of the Hostel itself. While others had been acting as scouts in the surrounding woodlands, Gyrfalcon had been sending out messages and gathering together anyone he could get his hands on. Already, a number of druids and rangers had responded that they would come as quickly as possible, and he had secured the services of a small company of mercenaries that specialized in the hunting of undead. With a sigh, Gyrfalcon grumbled to himself, glad that he wouldn’t have to pay the druids and rangers too much, at least. Undead were an abomination against nature, and the destruction of undead creatures was a primary commandment of any god or goddess dealing with nature. He paused and made a mental note to tell them to leave Tamaranis alone. Destroying skeletons and zombies was one thing. Offending a vampire who also happened to be an Archmage was sheer suicide, and he was sure most of them would see it that way and leave Tamaranis alone. For the rest, deep forest patrols would keep them safely out of the way, but it was just one more thing to take care of. The half-elf sighed, hoping that their hostess wouldn’t take it askance for not being consulted about the stationing of troops at the Hostel. She’d understand why, he hoped. And if not... well, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that. At least she had finally awakened. Yui-chan and the others had started becoming worried after the second day. Gyrfalcon was already worried, so that had just added to the weight. “Who goes there?” a voice said sharply, and Gyrfalcon looked up from his dark thoughts to see the old druid, Ardavial, raising his staff and peering at the half-elf in the gloom. “It’s only me, old one.” he said, smiling slightly. The druid was abrasive on the outside, but Gyrfalcon knew that covered a great heart. “Old one? Don’t you ‘old one’ me, you whippersnapper, I could still beat you over the head with my staff as well as anyone!” the druid said, chuckling, before changing the subject. “You need more sleep half-elf, and don’t tell me to mind my own business, I can see those circles under your eyes.” “I’ll get some rest later, I promise.” Gyrfalcon said, knowing that tomorrow would likely be as busy as the past week, if not more so. “Bah! I’ll just have to pick you up when you fall over from too little sleep.” Ardavial snorted before stumping past the half-elf. “Well, it’s your body and your health that you’ll be ruining!” Gyrfalcon smiled at the druid’s back and shook his head before continuing down the path. He might have time for a nap tomorrow... that would help. He looked up suddenly to see Annael emerging from under a tree. “Hello Annael.” he said, not surprised to see the fallen angel out at night. “How has your evening been?” Annael shrugged her shoulders, her wings ruffling and a feather falling away. “Alright I suppose, though it can get boring at night, with everyone asleep.” The half-elf grinned. “A good time to catch up on your reading then.” he said, trying to suppress a yawn. Annael smiled in response. “I suppose so. I think I’ll wander down to the library.” Gyrfalcon bowed his head in response. “I think I’ll go add to the sleepers – it’s been a long day, and dawn comes faster then I might wish.” Annael smiled faintly again. “Sleep well, Gyrfalcon. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Daryl to cuddle up with while I read?” Gyrfalcon grinned. “Nah, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it. He can sleep nearly anywhere.” Annael giggled. "That's true enough, I've seen him draped across two branches and snoozing away." The two parted, Annael to collect Daryl and a book, and Gyrfalcon to reacquaint himself with a pillow. ----- OOC: Thank you for waiting patiently. I hope you enjoy this piece.

“So, have they brought more gifts?” Kragush Shatterskull snarled to himself, his voice a hoarse rasp from a wound to his throat he had suffered long ago, in the very battle where he had taken the chieftainship of his clan from the broken form of his predecessor. That had been just the beginning, as his forces plowed under smaller tribes and added their women and children to his own, until his clan had become large enough that smaller clans began to willingly swear fealty to him. Life had been good, as his clan swelled and his armies grew vast. And then... the elves came. He snarled again as he eyed the four standing at the opposite end of the clearing, but then grimly strode to the center of the empty space. After a long moment, the elves started forward, the lord and his translator, and two guards. Neither side had torches, for they wanted their meeting to be unnoticed, and on this clear night, neither needed torches either. There were only four elves this time, but the orc warlord was sure there were probably at least a dozen more about, concealed by magic and the wondrous products of their magic, the boots and cloaks of elven-kind that allowed their trackers to pass invisibly through their forests. He had brought a score of his elite guard with him to this meeting, but even with the aid of his shamans, he doubted he could kill these four quickly enough, not without the benefit of surprise. And there was always the possibilities they presented... One of the snooty elves stepped forward “We’re glad you could find time from your busy schedule to meet us.” he said sarcastically, not realizing that his Orc had a horrible lisp to it that always made Kragush want to double over in laughter. Instead, he curled his lip in an amused snarl. “What does the oh-so-mighty elf lord want this time? Another ranger you need dispatched?” Kragush said with an evil chuckle. He did so enjoy how they tried to convince the worgs not to eat them... “He asked why the mighty elf lord summoned him.” the translator interpreted. “I believe he hoped that we had brought another ranger with us.” “Tell him that this is more important then his petty amusements.” the lord snapped. “Tell him that the plans are delayed one month. EXACTLY one month.” The translator bowed his head and was distinctly glad that the orcs didn’t understand a word of Elven. “The great lord asks that you restrain your mighty hordes for the space of one month, oh mighty warlord.” He said, as diplomatically as he could. Kragush’s eyes narrowed and he snarled threateningly at the elven lord, the lord’s guards placing hands on the hilts of their fine swords. “A month! For what reason am I to wait a month! You promised me that we could attack in a few days. Days! My forces are ready, you pointy-eared bastard!” The translator swallowed hard, having caught the majority of that. “Ah... my lord... he asks why his forces are to be held back for a month, when they are ready to attack now.” He said, editing his translation quickly. He had been told in the beginning to translate everything the orc said, but survival was more important then being totally accurate to what’s being said. The lord hesitated. “Certain events have come up within the city. It seems that the security will not be lowered until a month from know. Surely you can only use the time to add to your horde. There’s never such a thing as too much, after all.” “The events that were to have lowered the cities defenses have been rescheduled, and will take place in a month. During that time, you could increase the size of your army, for even with the defenses lowered, the city will not be easy to take.” The translator said, stumbling through the complex sentence. “Humph. What is this mysterious event that you elves keep on referring to?” Kragush demanded in disgust. The lord hesitated again for a long moment, but there was no reason to conceal the truth from the orc. “There will be a state wedding in a month, between the Lady Salinye Celestialgrace and the Lord Garon Attaway. During that time, much of the Royal Guard will be pulled aside for other duties, and it will take at least a week for them to assume their normal duties. It is during that time that the city is weakest.” The lord said impatiently, eager to finish this meeting. “Damned elves and their thrice-damned politics! I can use the time to recruit another clan of hill giants I suppose. But if you think you can play me false, I’ll find each of you and have your guts carved out before your eyes!” Kragush snarled, before turning on his heel and leaving the clearing, his guards falling in behind him. “Erm. He agreed to wait, my lord, and plans to recruit more hill giants in that time.” The translator stuttered nervously. “He will get over his pique soon enough.” the lord said, his eyes glinting icily as he considered the departing orcs. “We might want to bring him another ranger to improve his attitude next time.” “Yes, my lord.” The translator said miserably as they departed as well, to return to Fe'Thwyn.

Ladies, Gyrfalcon the half-elf Ranger, Elder of the Pen will also be up for auction! (Like Merelas, Salinye played upon our sense of patriotism towards the Pen to get us to volunteer.) In addition, available in fox, hybrid or human formats... Daryl Carnsilion the werefox is available! If you've been on IRC, you know he's as cute and cuddly as they come, so if you wanted him all to yourself for an evening... NOW is your chance! So you'd better save up your gold!

Gyrfalcon and Daryl walked slowly through the carnival, taking in the sights and sounds of the busy meeting, as the Pen flooded out from their enclosed society to enjoy all the treats a Carnival could provide. He paused by the boot and looked at the three within hard. Zool was easy enough to recognize, but the other two took a few seconds, given the pie covering their faces. With an amused smile, he read the sign, then producted a trio of towels, handing one to each of the ladies and using the last one to carefully clean off Zool's portrait. "So, what possessed you three to set up a kissing booth that was also a pie-throwing booth?" "GyrE, it was only supposed to be Zool to be kissed, but people have been adding our names and other features to our sign!" Salinye said, enjoying the fact her face felt clean from the vigorous scrubbing she had given it. Daryl jumped up and yerfed, inquiring as to the price of a five-minute cuddle. "Mmm.... fifteen geld." Ayshela said. Daryl yerfed again and pulled a pouch out of his tail and carefully nosed a ten geld and a five geld piece onto the counter before her before jumping into her arms, murring happily. Gyrfalcon chuckled softly at Daryl. "You know fuzzface, you could probably open a booth and make money to be cuddled." he said, and Daryl indicated that might be a good idea... but right now, he's enjoying his cuddles. The half-elf chuckled and shook his head, then looked between Zool and Salinye before placing ten geld in the collection bottle. Zool closed his eyes, preparing himself for a pie to the face. "Hm... I don't suppose you're still willing to give out kisses, are you Salinye?" he said with a rogueish grin. Salinye's eyes widened, and she blushed. "Still willing? Since when was I willing tonight?" she said, her voice light with amusement as she laughed, somewhat self-consciously. "Mm... then you won't mind if I steal one or two then?" he said, leaning forward to kiss her lightly on the lips. Salinye's eyes widened again, and her cheeks flushed further before she closed her eyes. The second kiss wasn't nearly as light. Merelas was passing by, and he grinned at the sight of the two of them, shaking his head. "Took you long enough!" he called, and recieved an Unpolite gesturee from Gyrfalcon, which he took with laughter as he continued on his way. Another ten geld tinkled into the collection jar, and Ayshela sighed as the two kissed a few more times, the half-elf adding geld as needed. Finally, he stepped back and the two blinked at each other, faces flushed. "One moment." he said before bending down and drawing an X through Salinye's name on the sign. He tossed a handful of geld into the jar and kissed Salinye again.