A Tarienite Distraction

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Logfile from Aenyn.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A10: Temple of Tarien *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

         The Temple of Tarien. Some people refer to this as a place of wisdom, others refer to it as 'party central'. A playful statue of the Coyote stands just outside, cleverly designed so that it emits a howling sound when the wind blows over it. While acolytes all wear the same mask of comedy, the Luckbringers themselves frequently carry masks of great value, highly personal and carefully decorated. The front of the temple is decorated with people discussing, performing (frequently in bizarre and difficult to understand manners), and generally carrying on more like an affable party than a religious organization. Acolytes out front are frequently engaged with the elderly in games of chess, riddles, and more.
         Inside, a twisting labyrinth comprises the innards of the temple, with only its adherents possessed of any ability to guarantee they'll arrive at the location they expect. It is said the temple of Tarien needs no guards for no-one who enters uninvited will ever find his way out again, the hallways and doors shifting and changing so that even tracing one's way back becomes impossible. Should one seek services here, one is just as likely to be engaged in a game of chance as be expected to pay, and a good trick, joke, or riddle is often considered just as high a tribute as any material offering. That being said, ostentation is less important than substance, as the answerless questions and riddles scrawling over the walls, engraved in the very stone are said to offer a treasure to those who decipher them greater than any gem: Wisdom.
                               EXTRAS: +view                                 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Elspeth         Stocky Cerenzan woman in bright clothing.             12s  1h
Lavros          Dark haired man in a gray cloak.                      31s  1h
Tatyannah       Short Giantborn woman, dark hair, bronze skin.        47s  34m
Selia           A sleek halfling lass, quick and nimble.              1m   10m
Aenyn           A somewhat short man with vivid green eyes and, maybe 0s   2h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Out <O> -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- The temple has been decorated to rafters for tonight's party. Tables are laid out, buffet-style, with all manner of foods. Barrels of several types of alcohol are also in evidence, as well as barrels of water for those stiffnecks that come to a Tarienite party and refuse to drink alcohol. The nerve. Musicians are set up along one side of the main chamber keeping lively music flowing throughout the temple. Luckbringers abound in their brightly-colored attire and facepaint, though some have taken to wearing masks. Fancifully-dressed acrobats perform throughout the room, turning cartwheels and jumping into flips and handstands on each other. It's quite skillful really.

Aenyn is not one of these. Despite being one of the first ones here, he is neither brightly-dressed or masked or tumbling. He's merely leaning against a pillar with a mug in his hand and talking quietly with one of the Luckbringers, this one wearing a theatrical mask depicting a broadly smiling face.

Selia isn't really one of the faithful, but if anyone has ever found a method for keeping the sneaky little dancer out, they havn't mentioned it. Not that this is the place to try, Selia enjoys a good laugh. Just now she's seated upon one of the lower rafters, chatting idly with a few of the acrobats not currently involved in the performance.

Elspeth is not masked, but is brightly dressed. Her braids are glittering with shiny gold rings, and instead of her battle kit, she's wearing a sleeveless tunic in bright orange with white embroidery, and loose, flowing trousers in the same colors. Her waist is encircled with a yellow silk sash. She's also carrying a tray of what seem to be fresh-baked puff pastries of some sort, because her mama raised her to always bring gifts. She's offering them to anyone who might show interest. "They're a recipe from the Islands. Yes, they're filled - each one has a different filling, in fact! ...oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten which filling is which..."

Lessee, party at the Tarien temple? Right, thieving clothes, but don't actually carry anything actually valuable, save for a couple of weapons, just in case, and pockets of candy, for the youngest of Tarien's followers to try their luck. Tatyannah ambles in, heading over for the barrels of booze, so she can get a drink.

Lavros has disconnected.

Zoob has arrived.

Pendleton has arrived.

The joyful-masked Luckbringer suddenly laughs aloud and claps Aenyn on the shoulder. Aenyn, on the other hand, doesn't luck particularly merry. In fact, he's quite red from embarrassment. The Luckbringer steps away and moves towards the center of the room where he climbs on top of a chair and raises his arms, "Welcome, one and all!" His voice carries surprisingly well despite the mask covering his mouth. "Everyone feel free to enjoy this distraction from the horrors of war. Remember that each and every one of us is still alive and that's something we should never forget!" He reaches down and grabs a mug out of the hand of a passing partier who yelps in surprise. "A toast to the Coyote. May we all live with a laugh in our throats!" He pulls off his mask, revealing himself to be Aenyn's father for those that know him, and takes a long gulp from the mug.

Selia has reconnected. Selia has partially disconnected.

Jibbom has arrived.

The joyful-masked Luckbringer suddenly laughs aloud and claps Aenyn on the shoulder. Aenyn, on the other hand, doesn't luck particularly merry. In fact, he's quite red from embarrassment. The Luckbringer steps away and moves towards the center of the room where he climbs on top of a chair and raises his arms, "Welcome, one and all!" His voice carries surprisingly well despite the mask covering his mouth. "Everyone feel free to enjoy this distraction from the horrors of war. Remember that each and every one of us is still alive and that's something we should never forget!" He reaches down and grabs a mug out of the hand of a passing partier who yelps in surprise. "A toast to the Coyote. May we all live with a laugh in our throats!" He pulls off his mask, revealing himself to be Aenyn's father for those that know him, and takes a long gulp from the mug. (re for Selia and Jibbom)

Selia listens to the toast and joins the roused cheer. Grabbing hold of a cloth banner, the halfer slides down from the rafters easily, joining the short line to fetch a mug. Well, several mugs, actually, most of them tied to strings and sent back up to the acrobats above. The tiny dancer stays below, retaining a mug for herself.

Tatyannah eyes Aenyn and his father and laughs, before finding some poor soul to inflict herself on, to chit chat. For all that she threatens to stab people, she does actually seem to get along with them, managing day to day encounters without even a hint of bloodshed. Who knew?

Pendleton cheers, standing before a few kegs of beer that he and a dwarf (mainly the much younger and stronger dwarf) have brought for the festivities. Pendleton already has a tankard of frothy ale, and his compatriot begins lining up mugs for the celebrants. Pendleton calls out, "To the laughing lady, rosy cheeked, and her face is nice, too!"

Elspeth hastily exchanges a couple of pastries for a mug of something frothy and experimental. She raises it with a cheer. "I like life! Let's continue with that!" She drains a long swallow, then wanders over to thrust her box of pastries at Pendleton, apparently at random. Or because he seems to have a good supply of booze. "A pastry for you! Surprise filling."

Zoob trots into the temple and looking around. Along with the usual thunderbelcher across his back he is also lugging a large bucket full of brown liquid today, it sloches back and forth and bubbles slightly but he's careful enough that none spills. His wide green ears wave as he scans the room and then starts scampering towards one of the tables.

"TARIENITES, BEHOLD!" The booming voice of Jibbom rings out as the winged halfling makes his dramatic entrance into the Temple. "It is I! Steel Von Ironblood! Bane of the Night!" He poses, flexing muscles unimpressively. "And I am here... to party!"

Selia laughs, and grabs a fresh mug for the winged Lucht. "Well now it's a party. What ya been up ta, Night Bane?"

Terri has arrived.

Tatyannah glances sidelong at the bellowing. Jibbom is here! Now the real fun starts. After parting from her companion, Tatyannah grabs another beer, and a platter of something resembling food, and in a fair bit of fancy climbing, manages to get to a rafter, with nary a drop or bit spilled. "Where's the wife, Steel? Has she bred yet?"

Calonefydd has arrived.

Terri makes her way inside, carefully. Soon after emerging into the room, a brownish-orange housecat slightly smaller than a leopard emerges as well. "Ah, hello?" Terri ventures.

Pendleton oos to Elspeth. "Pastries! You, my lady, have won my heart!" He peers in and fishes one out. Takes a bite. "Mmm, heavenly. Just... don't tell my wife? Ha ha. If you are so inclined, we have a light summer ale and a really pitch-dark stout on hand."

"Jibbom!" exclaims Aenyn's father, Fussan. He hops down from the chair, still spry for his age, and approaches the famous hero of Alexandria. "I haven't seen you since the wedding. How was the honeymoon?" He grins broadly and takes another pull from the mug. He has yet to put his mask back on. It would interfere with his drinking.

Aenyn, on the other hand, continues to be a wallflower. He does at least move away from the pillar and finds himself at one of the buffet tables, filching a meatpie for himself.

Jibbom grins brightly as he accepts the mug from Selia. "Oh, the usual. Amazing feats of heroism. Turning the tide of wars. Getting married to beautiful women. You know. Heroic stuff." He guzzles down the beverage. He then beams to Tatyannah. "Not yet! I am told it is difficult to have children within a few weeks. But soon! There shall be many heirs to our legacies of heroism." Fussan gets the same big beaming smile from the halfling. "Fantastic! We went to Rune. Lovely this time of year. Some armed conflict, but lovely aside from that."

Elspeth grins at Pendleton and waggles her eyebrows. "Well, I'm pretty sure it's a tenet of the faith that what happens in a Tarien temple stays in a Tarien temple, especially when there's a party on." She finishes off her current mug, and looks even happier about the idea of more booze. "Oh, let's see...give me the dark. I'm in a mood!" And...she looks back towards Jibbom and her eyes widen. "He has WINGS. Do you see that? Why does he have wings?"

Berra *stares* at the meat pies. That looks like fooood... and Terri is looking elsewhere, at whatever all these people are doing... pounce! And so now there is a slightly-smaller-than-a-leopard, brownish-orange housecat leaping for the table, instead of behaving and staying near her druid.

Garrin has arrived.

Tatyannah smirks a little as she listens to Jibbom's answer. "I look forward to your tales of heroism in parenting. Whole new worlds of things to be heroic about. Perhaps a chance for a new title."

Pendleton gestures to his dwarven colleague, who hands him a mug of something that looks like black ink with a few stray bits of froth on top. "We call it Mudwater Stout. I'm very fond of it. As for wings, all halfling men grow wings shortly after marriage. They'll fall off eventually, though... wives have a habit of clipping one's wings." He drinks from his tankard.

Terri is a tallish, pretty, brown-haired girl of 19- about as young as a druid gets. She has round brown eyes a shade darker than her hair. A good deal of her height is in her legs, and while she's wiry, she's still a bit stronger than one would expect.

Rhar has arrived.

Zoob finishes hi trek to the table and places his bucket onto it. He then climbs onto a chair, grabs an empty mug, and dunks it, coming up with helping of the brown slightly-fizy stuff. He takes a taste, considers, shrugs, and swallows it down in one long pull. He then looks around the room again for anything unusually interesting.

Berra meows at Zoob from atop the buffet table.

Selia grins at Jibbom's antics, and wanders off, something else having caught her eye. Something fuzzy and hungry and brownish. Kitty!

Elspeth gives Pendleton a suspicious look. Not too suspicious, because he's the one with the booze. But suspicious enough to say, "And I suppose that the feathers are then woven into the baby blankets? Just to remind the young halfling children of what they may have one day?" She grins. "Maybe we should preserve his wings for the ages! We could make a statue."

Terri finally catches sight of where her animal companion has gone, and stands there blinking for a moment before rushing over there herself. "Berra! Not on the table, please!"

Jibbom has a mug of some strong drink in his hand as he chats with Tatyannah, a big beaming grin upon his face. "I look forward to it as well! Having a family will truly be my greatest and most epic adventure yet. And that's saying something!"

Fussan claps Jibbom on the shoulder, "Ha! Yes! I should have known you wouldn't go for a boring honeymoon to the Jade Islands or anywhere like that. Good, good!" He breaks off from Jibbom and approaches Terri, "Well, hello there, girl! Don't believe I've ever seen you around the temple before. Welcome!" He takes a sip from his mug before jerking a thumb towards the buffet table and asking with his usual broad grin, "Is that your cat?"

Aenyn stumbles backwards as Berra jumps onto the table near him, but he manages (somehow) not to spill his ale or drop his meatpie. He blinks owlishly at the feline, "Uh...hello?"

Zoob gesures expantively at Terri. "And why not on the table? It's the best vantage point and has the best access to the food!" He takes himself at his word by climbing onto the table and attempting to pet the cat on the head.

GAME: Zoob rolls handle animal: Trained Use Only: 0

Berra peers at Aenyn. "Meow?" she asks, and picks her way over to him. She seems very interested in the meat pie. "Mow," she states, clearly expecting something.

GAME: Zoob rolls charisma: (4)+1: 5

"Indeed, one can only imagine the monsters under the bed," Tatyannah nods sagely at Jibbom. "And the worries about giant invisible rocks."

Pendleton runs a finger over his mustache. "Mmm, a statue. Think of it, two wings, appearing to just hang in space. It would be ... rather grand, actually." He sips, distracted for a moment from his jape. He finishes off the pastry. "Mmm, that was delightful... ah, my manners. I am Pendleton of the Brundelssens, makers of fine lagers and ales. And occasionally other things, when the clodheads haven't blown up the experimental distillery, eh?" The younger dwarf studiously does not respond.

Berra ignores Zoob.

Terri picks her way through the party, until she gets to be near Zoob once again. "Not on the table, because once she gets to the food, she might not leave any for anyone else! Also, if anyone's put anything there that is poisonous for cats..." Terri looks worried.

Selia tsks, mildly at Zoob. "Cat's got clean paws on da table. Can't say da same fer yer boots." She glances to Terri. "Then ya gots a hosts of preists around, most of 'em like a cat much as anybody."

Elspeth sticks her hand out to Pendleton, and if it is taken, shakes it with enthusiasm. "Elspeth is my name. My family, sorry to say, wouldn't be recognized outside of our town. They're scholars. Ancient wars, languages, so on and so forth. Beer is a lot more interesting, I think. Come to ply my trade as an Explorer type." She turns and offers more pastries to anyone passing nearby.

Aenyn continues to blink at the feline, then looks down at his meatpie, then back to the cat. His brow furrows as he narrows his eyes. Without taking his eyes off the cat, he takes a very deliberate bite of his meatpie and chews exaggeratedly.

Terri looks at Selia. "Oh, ah, my apologies. Er. I'm glad that the priests here like cats!"

Berra leans over, and attempts to headbutt the meat pie. "Mow."

Zoob grumps and then grabs a piece of roast meat and hops back off the table. "Oh well, and cats are clean? I maintain that they are just covered in dried cat spit. Thats not clean... unless you want me to try the same thing." He opens his Gobber-wide mouth and stucks out an astonishingly long tongue, waggling it back and forth.

Cat? Did someone say cat? Gurr likes cats. For lunch! Well, not really for lunch... but he likes making the cats think that! That's why he goes bounding from the entrance anf for the cat. "Monster no under bed! Monster IN bed!" That's not Gurr. That's Rhar. Loudly correcting Tatyannah.

Terri grins. "Oh, Berra is very clean! She's usually willing to tolerate baths, and I never run out of water!"

Tatyannah raises a hand in surrender, "Monsters in bed. So, who is the dragon and who is the damsel?" she asks of Rhar.

Pendleton shakes the hand with a warm smile. "Well met. Actually, while brewing is my vocation, I am a scholar by avocation. I was, once... a great follower of knowledge in all forms." He sighs a bit, looking every bit his age for a moment. "But both exploration and education are grand paths to take, my dear! And in time you may be surprised which way things take you." He raises his tankard. "To the one who watches roads!"

Jibbom beams ear to ear when Rhar joins them. "Oh, yes, my lovely wife! Very, veyr true." He rushes over to her and scoops her up in an overly affectionate sort of hug. "I am so glad you made it! This is the Coyote's congregation. They are all excellent people!"

Fussan laughs and nods, "Oh, indeed. There are few animals as mischievous as the cat. They fit in well here." He spots someone else he wants to talk to and adds, "Enjoy the party!" He hustles away, waving with the hand still holding his mask.

Aenyn keeps his eyes eyes narrowed as he pulls his pie out of Berra's reach. "No. Mine," he mutters before taking another bite of the pie. "Mine," he reiterates with a mouthful of food.

Selia smirks at Zoob. "Well, this -is- a party." And then there's Gurr. And Selia is up on the table, puffed up large and any cat, and almost as hissing. Cats are good. Dogs... dogs are large predators, often larger than she is.

"To joy!" Elspeth takes a tankard and clanks it against Pendleton's, with enough enthusiasm to slop a little over the sides. Then, to the drinking! "It was great to meet you! I'll have to find you again. For now, to the dancing!" She grins, takes another drink from the tankard, and slips away towards one of the musicians, dancing with more enthusiasm than any sort of skill.

Berra... may actually be slightly larger than Selia. "Meow?" she asks.

Zoob looks back and forth between Gurr and Selia. "Hey now, don't worry, if the big dog tries to bite you you just bop it on the nose. Works every time. So far anyway. Actually not every time... sorta some of the time? Okay, it worked once. Sort of." He surveys the wolf from his perch on a chair. "All I'm saying is I'm not going down there."

Selia leans slightly, muttering to Berra, her eyes upon Gurr. "Just keep still. They ain't too bright, lose intrest iffen ya don't run." Larger predators are scary. But cats don't count. Cats are awesome.

Aenyn takes advantage of the cat's distraction to slip away and hide behind another pillar to properly enjoy the rest of his meatpie. Meanwhile, Fussan appears once again on a stage on the opposite end of the chamber from the doors. And he has a Dragonspitter in his hand. Aiming towards the ceiling directly above him, he pulls the trigger causing a loud *BOOM!* to echo through the chamber. With a broad grin, he says to the now-mostly-silent room, "Now that I have your attention...would those interested in a little limerick competition please come up on stage?"

Berra is completely unconcerned about the... dog-wolf-thing. Until, BOOM! "Meooooow!" she yells, and bolts towards the stage herself, with... collateral damage to the food.

Terri yelps when the *BOOM!* occurs. "Eep!" She slowly makes her way towards the stage as well, less interested in limericks than in keeping Berra from causing any more trouble.

Rhar bounds over to grab up Jibbom in a ginormous wolfhug. Then holds him up over her head. "Cyootie!" Meanwhile, Gurr the wolf bounds elsewhere for his own prey.

"Wheeee!" Jibbom declares as he is lifted up over Rhar's head. He tries to keep an eye on Aenyn and the impending contest from his new hoisted position. "Ooh. Poetry!"

Selia starts a bit at the gunshot, but her eye remains on the canid. Priorities. Relaxing a bit as Gurr runs off, she turns focus towards the stage, but makes no move to join.

Elspeth also yelps at the boom, nearly dropping treats and beer as she reaches for weapons she's not actually carrying. She peers up at the temple's ceiling, then over at the stage. "Poetry? Limericks? Not really my area of expertise, but it sounds like fun." She starts to move for a good place to watch.

Zoob jumps when the small firearm goes off and spins to look at the stage, considering briefly. "Nope, not a poet. I know some limericks but I can't wrte any that are atually any good."

Berra reaches the stage, and promptly climbs onto it. "Meow," she declares.

Tatyannah shrugs a little as her question goes unanswered. It's all right. She'll stick where she is and watch the limerick competition.

Fussan smiles at the cat climbing onto the stage and addresses the crowd, "Looks like we have our first contestant! Come on, everyone. Don't let this beautiful feline have all the fun! The limericks don't have to be good as long as everyone has fun!" He then kneels down and looks at Berra. He regards her silently for a few moments with one of his rare "straight faces" then says, "Meow."

Berra looks at Fussan, and tilts her head. "Mrr?"

Pendleton jumps a little, then listens and grins. He makes his way to stage. "Aaaaaah."

Fussan nods solemnly, "Mow. Meow mrr mrowr meow." He tilts his head.

Elspeth fetches up near Tatyannah as she's looking for a place where she can see the shenanigans, and offers the giantborn one fo the last pastries. "Not going to poem your heart out?"

Terri sighs. "Speak With Animals," she whispers, and casts the spell. <Berra!> she shouts, in whatever language cats speak. <They... they're doing poetry, and, er...> She pauses, not really knowing what to say next. <Oh, go ahead. Do you know what a limerick is?>

Rhar lowers down her mate. Then bites him on the shoulder. She must be hungry! Or she's just being affectionate. Because she's not trying to tear out a piece.... but maybe leave a mark.

Selia hunts around a bit, grabbing a small bowl of puffed nuts. It's not popcorn, but it'll do. "Kitty limricks. This place has the -best- parties."

Zoob chomps on his meat-thing and then swallows it whole. He hops back off his chair and vanishes under the table. A green arms snakes out and pulls back a mug of beer and then disappears again.

"Ow!" Jibbom yelps, but grins immediately afterwards. "Feisty today, eh? You are insatiable, my lovely wife! Come, we should partake of the refreshments! I'm pretty sure I saw pastries..."

Berra pauses. Her druid is talking like normal! Not like in the weird talking. <Limerick?> She thinks for a moment. <You used to read them to me!> Which, to those not Speaking to Animals, sounds something like, "Meow? Mow meow mrr mrr-oww mow mew meow!"

Fussan laughs at Berra and nods, "Rightly so." Whatever conversation he was having with the cat in his own mind, that response seemed appropriate for the situation. He stands and looks to Pendleton, "Good man. Welcome to the stage!" Turning back to the crowd, "Do we have any others? Don't be afraid! We won't heckle you. Much. And I swear that none of the fruits and vegetables at this party are rotten!"

Calonefydd is prone to dramatically Darkening Doorways. It's occasionally deliberate, but usually it's just... Calonefydd. What with the cape and warrior's braid and... and the Calonefydd. Today, he slips inside, sidesteps into proper wallflower stance, to take in the room without interrupting.

Terri sighs. If Berra is getting up on stage, she should be there. Just in case. Even if she's never made up a limerick.

Terri gets up onto the stage as well, somewhat hesitantly.

For his part, Garrin has been here. And mingling, no doubt, with some of the clergt. Amongst other things. Whe nhe redons his outrageously floopy and feathered hat, he says, "Hey, everybody!" it's more a general greeting than a call for attetnion. At least with his voice, anyways.

Berra meows back. "Mrow meow mew mow mow mew mer mrr-ow!" She is enjoying this strange place with interesting things to eat and play with and do, and they seem so happy that she's meowing up here! And her druid is here too!

"Purrr-ow!" Selia offers, not really sure of what's being said, but enjoying the show. A party where everyone meows... this has potential.

An Arvek in a bright yellow vest and green pants gets up on stage as well. Fussan looks around, sees noone else scrambling to join him on stage and then shrugs. "Very well then!" He looks at the three contestants and says, "You three are apparently the bravest souls in this entire room." He grins wickedly, "May Tarien have mercy on you." He turns back to the crowd, "The rules are simple. One at a time, each contestant will recite a limerick to the audience. No subject is taboo, though do try to keep it in Tradespeak so everyone can understand. I will be watching and listening to the audience reaction to each limerick to determine the winner. And without further ado," he points at Pendleton, "We will begin with you!"

Autumn has arrived.

Calonefydd goggle-eyes just a little. But only a little. He watches folks at the buffet tables, and the brief drama of Cats On Table. As most eyes settle on the stage, the sildanyar strolls over to join in the spectating.

Pendleton bows and steps up, looking over the crowd. He sips his tavern and takes a deep breath. In a stentorian voice, he speaks, "A Tarien Cleric named Vray, polished his rod every day. He grew quite concerned, one day when it burned, and much of it started to fray." He nods elegantly to the crowd.

Zoob pops out from under his table to refill his mug from a keg, decidedly not from the bucket he arrived with. He then snaffles a couple of meat pies and vanishes from view again.

Elspeth cheers for Pendleton, finishes off her mug, and sidles away to get lost in the crowd.

Selia claps in appericiation, enjoying a bit of a snack from her eprch on the buffet table. It's a place with a good view, handy refreshment, and her feet are clean.

Elspeth goes OOC. Elspeth has left.

Calonefydd laughs at that! And applauds. Not wildly. But more than the polite minimum!

Autumn goes Out <O>. Autumn has left.

Aenyn emerges from behind the pillar, having finished off his meatpie. He moves to a good vantage point to watch the limerick contest, shaking his head at his father, though the expression on his face is definitely one of amusement. Pendleton's first limerick gets a snicker out of Aenyn and he applauds the poetry.

Fussan laughs at Pendleton's limerick and waits for the applause and guffaws from the crowd to die down before he points at Terri, "And now it's your turn, new girl. And tell everyone your name while you're at it."

Butters has arrived.

GAME: Terri rolls perform/oratory: (4)+2: 6

A deep booming approuches the Temple. Could it be an attack? Is a giant visiting the Temple of Tarien? An earthquake?! No... it's much better! Stepping through the door is a collection of animated music instruments all playing in harmony. What else should be present for Jibbom's party other than the one... the only... the Polka Gnome! Oooom-pah-pah! Oooom-pah-pah! Oooom-pah-ooooom-pah oooom-pah-pah!

GAME: Butters rolls Perform/Dance: (15)+8: 23

GAME: Butters rolls Perform/Keyboard: (14)+8: 22

GAME: Butters rolls Perform/Percussion: (6)+8: 14

GAME: Butters rolls Perform/Wind: (18)+8: 26

Terri grins nervously. "Er, hi! I'm Terri Finestitch?" It comes out as a question. "Uh... Hunter of Gilead- wait, wha-" She yelps as the booming starts. "Uh... should I still say the limerick?"

Selia snorts softly, grins, and shouts to the stage.

"Start your limrick, begin! 
Talkin ain't never a sin 
The worst that can happen 
For all of your yappin 
Is we laugh, and ya make a new friend!"

Pendleton roars a laugh and slaps his knee.

Fussan smiles and waves to the new arrival, then glances back to Terri, "Of course, my dear Terri Finestitch, of course! Carry on!" Selia's spontaneous limerick catches his attention, though, his smile widens as he throws up his hands, "A surprise entry! Huzzah!"

Zoob pops out again from under his table, this time he is wearing a sock on one ear. He also has apparently finished both met pies and the ale as he snags a plate of spinach puffs and, casting a withering glare at Butters, vanishes again. His voice can be heard saying two words in utter disgust. "Gnome music."

Terri blinks. "Um," she says. She pauses for a moment. "There... was a rat Alexandrian? Who... jumped into a noble's flan." Terri fidgets, still obviously nervous. "She came with a mop. The rat gave a hop, and... into the city he ran?" She grins. Maybe that will work?

Selia grins, and applauds. Might not be the best of rhymes, but was entertainment.

Calonefydd turns - slowly - at the arrival of the marching (floating?) band. He raises one eyebrow... but turns back to the stage, when the nervous druid holds forth. As before, the sildanyar applauds, wearing what might be intended as an encouraging smile?

Fussan applauds the druid's efforts with an encouraging smile. "Not bad at all, my dear!" He looks back to the crowd, gauging their reaction to Terri's limerick. Once the clamor dies down again, he points at the Arvek, "And now it's your turn, my large friend!"

The Arvek nods solemnly and steps forward. He clears his throat and speaks in a deep, gravely voice, "Accept that to suffer is life That done, you don't focus on strife. The good - one enjoys The bad - background noise The ugly - my neighbor's fat wife!" He grins toothily and steps back.

Pendleton chuckles and claps. Sort of claps. It's tricky with a tankard.

Calonefydd laughs quietly, and applauds.

Terri okay. No fruit got thrown. Waste of good fruit. Okay. She attempts to slip down and get off the stage. She is *not* a bard, this is not her area of expertise.

Butters continues to fill the place with happy, booming, polka music and thumpthumpthumps the base drum as applause for each limrick that is put forth.

Selia laughs, and applauds again.

Fussan nods, rubbing his chin as he watches the crowd's reaction. "Hmm, yes. This is a tough decision. Everything was so close. There's only way to make the final decision on the winner." With that he extends his arm out in front of him, pointing with one finger. He then closes his eyes and begins to spin around in a circle. Once, twice, three times and finally a fourth he spins before he begins to slow. He stumbles once in his dizziness but catches himself. Finally, he stops and his finger is pointing...right at a wall. He opens his eyes, sees where he's pointing and adjusts his aim to the nearest person, who happens to be...Pendleton. "And we have a winner!"

Berra thinks. She doesn't know what a "Tradespeak" is, it sounds kinda like what her druid says before talking the right way, but they're speaking in that weirder-than-usual way, and then people are happy! If she did that, they might pet her. Or give her meat pies. Mmm. She then looks up. Why is the person pointing at the other person. She should try now! "Meow, mow mow, mrrow mow mew mow meow," she attempts. "Mrr meow mow mew mow mrrr mew mrrow. Mow meow mow mow mew. Meow mow mew meow mew?" She pauses and tilts her head. "Meow meow mew mow mrr mow meow meow!" Berra may not be as smart as... well, any of the usually-sapient races, but she is a druid's animal companion, and that means she's a bit smarter than most cats. Also, a bit bigger. She's still not sure about that last part... now to wait for meat pies.

Jibbom offers his own loud whoop of a cheer and a hearty burst of applause for each limerick thus far.

The sound of muffled clapping is coming from under the table where Zoob is lurking.

Terri takes this as her cue to leave. "C'mon, Berra," she says, and beckons the large housecat down. Soon, they are heading for the door.

Garrin just bursts out laughing. That works! What else can you do? He's clapping also.

Terri has disconnected.

Pendleton bows. "Thank you, all the little people I will throw under a horse on my meteoric rise to the height of limerick...icity...ness." He mades a rude gesture and stomps off the stage.

Fussan grins at Pendleton's victory speech, then adds, "One moment! You don't want to forget your prize!" He snaps his fingers and with that signal, two acrobats cartwheel over to the pastry table near the stage, grab a cream pie each and hurl them at Pendleton's head!

Selia chuckles, but swiftly joins Zoob under the table. "The pie thowing's started. Best ta be seekin cover. Dat sorta thing can get messy quick."

Pendleton glances over and quickly ducks his head. About a second after the pie splatters all over his head. Still, A for effort. He laughs and wipes his eyes clear. "Aaaah, the accolades come sailing in!"

Zoob is sitting under the table eating spinach puffs. He mutters to Selia, "Oh... Gobber,... sensible is here... help me... These... quite tasty,..."

Butters goes Out <O>. Butters has left.

Fussan takes a deep bow, "Accolades you most certainly earned, my good man." As he straightens, he turns to the crowd, "We now return you to the rest of your party! Eat, drink and be merry until you can no longer stand! We'll cart you all out in the morning!" He laughs and jumps down from the stage to do just as he suggested.

Pendleton heads to his dwindling pile of kegs, wiping his face with a few more chuckles. The young dwarf there cracks a rare smile at Pendleton's countenance.

Pendleton goes OOC. Pendleton has left.

Calonefydd goes Out <O>. Calonefydd has left.

Zoob has disconnected.

Selia lingers under the table, chatting and nibbeling until the danegrs of flying pies seems past. As past as it ever gets around here, anyway. Reassured of personal safety, the little Lucht returns to her former perch, crowd watching.

Tatyannah has disconnected.

"Well /this/ has gone quite wel," says Garrin with a laugh. "You know," he glanes back and forth, "i'd say this is exactly what everybody needed."

"I'll drink to that!" Jibbom shouts in agreement with Garrin before swigging down more of his drink.

Selia pfffts, and grins at Jibbom. "You'd drink ta sobriety."

And Garrin also takes a lengthy drink as well. "So, Ironblood, need I ask how married life is treating you?"

Rhar has disconnected.

"To sobriety!" Jibbom cheers, downing more of his drink before grinning at Garrin. "Ah, it is wonderful! I couldn't be happy. Tarien and Ceinara have truly blessed me. Marriage is great! Everyone should get married." More drinking follows.

Nicolai has arrived.

Garrin bursts out laughing. "Yes, Jibbom. I think you really ought to go around shouting about the values of marriage. I think you're an excellent representative of what it can do for a man." A solemn nod follows.

Nicolai bursts onto the scene, panting and out of breath. He's not wearing his armor, instead just a plain tunic. "Sorry...! Just came back...from Rune...an hour ago." He stops and looks about. "Did I miss the party?"

"The party is never truly over as long as we keep Tarien in our hearts!" The tipsy Jibbom proclaims before grinning at Garrin again. "That's a great idea! I must champion the virtues of marriage. Why aren't you married, hilarious associate?"

Nicolai has disconnected.

Jibbom has disconnected.

Tatyannah has connected.

Tatyannah goes home.

Tatyannah has left.

Selia has disconnected.