Maerish

In a land much like ours...

Banwalt, one of the four marshes of Harlant, 1622. While the newest heir to the Arzswin family is trying to gain influence over the city, the once renowned city guard is struggling to keep theirs as the need for grand adventure steadily declines. Even in a world in which magic is commonplace, people are afraid of change.

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 The Marketplace, Plays, Puppeteers and Storytellers
Aeon
 Posted: May 6 2017, 12:25 PM
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20 y/o & 101 posts
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Aeon

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Just less than five minutes by foot from the baker’s guild by the large fountain on the market place the wooden stage built just for the occasion shot up high and demanded the attention of the crowd. On it, performers of various skill were playing a continuous piece, from eight in the morning until eight at night. Not too far from the main stage, there was a little pedestal set up to allow the old dove Berthold the Whitewinged to rest comfortable and at eye-level as he told his stories of the forest.

A puppet show on the opposite side enthralled the children. Where there was lewd laughter from the main stage, here there was the light ringing of their voices as they yelled back and forth with the colorful characters brought to life through wooden figures and strings.

The puppeteers masterfully portrayed a rendition of the founder’s legend, while the play on the main stage was a tragicomedy featuring a changeling child and a worrisome mother, and the story of Berthold the Whitewinged revolved around a dark, mysterious tower further than the heart of the forest, covered by ivy so thick not even sound could escape it.

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mulac_snotcloak
 Posted: May 8 2017, 10:16 AM
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y/o & 3 posts


Percival stands, armour gleaming, especially polished for the festival, at the edge of a small throng of people. He watches an ancient, pale-feathered form on a pillar, just at his eye level, listening to the story being told by the elderly fable. In one hand, he carries a meat pie, half-eaten, still steaming slightly, the scent of pork mingling with the swirling spiced air around him. He listens to the story, but it seems like there is something else in his mind, as his eyes seem to focus on empty space, before snapping to something behind him, and bolting straight ahead again as the old bird begins to describe the sinister tower. He fiddles idly with his helmet in his left hand, absentmindedly adjusting buckles and straps, and polishing the gleaming, dented metal.

The crowd listens in rapt anticipation, as the ancient bird tells his story, the tension growing as he describes the great dark tower, sticking out of the trees like a coffin nail, describing the strange sounds from within, and of the odd black kestrels that circle its zenith. Back in reality, the spring sun bathes the square in warm, white light, but the story fills the air with a chill and a shiver, just as if it were midwinter once again.

Percival, his stomach slightly unsettled by unfamiliar surroundings, offers the remaining half of pie to a figure behind him Here, take this if you want it. I must admit my stomach is a little unsettled today, must be the crowds. Hardly used to them you see, my upbringing is rather rural, not used to so many people packed in one place outside of a feasting hall. The story is interesting however, do you know anything of it? it sounds rather like something a man like myself might go and investigate, rather an adventure I must say Percival smiles broadly, looking around at the stranger.
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Gerulf Oakenheart
 Posted: May 31 2017, 02:38 PM
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y/o & 2 posts


Gerulf and Alaric stood behind the young knight, the sun gleaming off Alaric's armor as they sat and heard the story being told by the old bird. A small hand reached upwards, holding onto a meat pie as the young man listens to the story being told.

Gerulf heard the man as he turned around to face him. "Here, take this if you want it. I must admit my stomach is a little unsettled today, must be the crowds. Hardly used to them you see, my upbringing is rather rural, not used to so many people packed in one place outside of a feasting hall. The story is interesting however, do you know anything of it? it sounds rather like something a man like myself might go and investigate, rather an adventure I must say," the young man said.

Gerulf gently nestled his head against his husband's neck, placing a sweet kiss on his beard. "Hello there, sir! I am not familiar with this story. And I might go investigate it if I didn't have guard duty. I'm Gerulf, and this is my husband Ser Alaric Oakenheart. A pleasure to meet you."
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Percival Greenmantle
 Posted: Jun 17 2017, 08:21 AM
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"Aha!" cries Percival, brushing crumbs of pie off his battle-worn tabard, obviously taking particular care with the crest in its center, in the image of a crown around the base of an oak tree. "I see I am in the presence of a knight, or even two! It is truly an hounour to have met you sirs!" He gives a low, scraping bow, Armour and spear clattering on his side, before he brings it up to his shoulder, quick as a flash, in a warrior's salute.
"In my opinion, no matter where you are from, a knight is a knight, and thus, we are allies at this moment, if not quite equals on my part" He smiles broadly, casting his eyes around the packed city square, the throngs of people moving through like a grand river.

"I must admit, this festival of yours seems to be going rather well! Certainly more affluent than any I saw in my homeland, all sorts of people around here, warriors, commoners and nobility alike! It is rather novel indeed!. Are you two here on official business of the city then, or just a reveler like myself?"
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Gerulf Oakenheart
 Posted: Yesterday at 02:36 pm
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y/o & 2 posts


Alaric and Gerulf gently shook the young man's hand 'Aye, you're in the presence of two knights. And yes, it's a pleasure to meet you as well, sir! We live here in the city. And I would agree that the festival is going quite well." They snuggled with each other as they wrapped each other up in their cloaks.
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