Old May 28, 2004, 12:11 PM   #1 (permalink)
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The Song of Solaris(Open!All enter please!)

Timestamp-Optia 23, Era X, PF

The sun had begun to peek its head over the top of the Ariosan trees, meaning it must have been sometime around noon, but who could tell? With the magic that fell upon all who entered Arios most people would have lost track of time, judging most things by the sun and moon. The coast was near, for the psshhww sound of water crashing on the land was evident and the cool salty ocean breeze played its way through the trees. The small animals that lived in the forest were all awake now; the birds sang there sweet songs from atop the trees and the mice scurried under the leaves, which gave a soft rustling type noise.

There was another being making his way through the woods, a most troubled being. He wore cheap worn-out boots that had holes in the soles and coming apart at the top. He had gone without his armor and his blade today, something of which was an oddity for him, but who knew why? Perhaps it was because ever since his re-birth in Syl'rosya he hadn't felt the weight on his soul that required every dark corner to hold an enemy or every person that stared a bit too long to be an enemy...or anything to be an enemy for that matter. Although maybe it was simple because Arios didn't hold many dangers as far as he could tell, for the forest reminded him of the Syl'rosyan trees, something which had calmed his new soul ever since he had laid eyes on them. Whatever the reason, it made his body and soul feel lighter without the bulky armor and heavy blade at his side. He was clothed in the simple purplish black elven robe that Arisha had given him. He had taken great care with the robe ever since its ownership had been given to him, so of course its cloth seemed to twinkle in the light hat filter between the canopies of the trees. Upon his finger of his right hand lay the ring of Jen'tai, yet another gift bestowed to him at his re-birth. The ring was a large gemstone ring, polished amethyst, set in whorling silver. When the light hit the ring, it was reflected back which gave the ring a glowing look, but then again Solaris had sat and polished it for hours on end at some point in time, so it had better shine and glow like the sun.

His footsteps carried him little by little towards the coast, although for some reason once he had been in range of seeing it, he had turned back towards the woods and started walking inwards. At yet another part in time, not more than a few minutes later, he set himself down in a rather shaded area and propped his back up against one of the large trees. He let a smile play across his dark features. Indeed since his re-birth he had found himself smiling and laughing and simply enjoying life...it was a great feeling. Something was building up inside of him, something that he had never had the urge to do until now...sing. He would sing about the only thing he knew...his life.


Born a slave that I was,
Born to work from dawn 'till dusk.
I promised to escape as the winds still blow
At 175 on one dark night I began my final flee.
How I made it I still know not
But I ran from that place with my mind twisted like a knot.
From the walls of the elves to the darkest places
That is where I live, that is where I have formed my life's basis.

To the walls of Prime I ran,
My legs stiffer than the metal of a pan.
To the Military I did begin a new life,
It was there I began my training with the big long knife,
But that life did not suit me,
So once again did I flee.
From the walls of the elves to the darkest places
That is where I live, that is where I have formed my life's basis.

The inner battles had began long ago,
The dark and light fighting for even the slightest foothold.
At the home of the elves would occur the final battle for me,
At the home of the elves would I meet a woman whom I told my plea.
She brought to me the elf know as Jen'tai,
Who in the battle of my mind, stood by my side.
From the walls of the elves to the darkest places
That is where I live, that is where I have formed my life's basis.

Once again I made it out alive somehow,
I was reborn as something new now.
Emotions I never felt before I can now feel,
No longer did I feel the need to kill,
My soul now free to I begin to wander
Now here I sit in Arios, looking over my life I ponder.
From the walls of the elves to the darkest places
That is where I live, that is where I have formed my life's basis.

What will my life become?
Who did my mother come from?
All these questions I cannot answer
But I know that no longer do forces feed upon my mind like a cancer.
So now here I sit in Arios underneath the trees,
Here I sit in Arios singing to the birds and bees.
In the light and the dark, I now bask in both,
No longer can I hide from the past that has remained unknown.


Ok, so maybe it wasn't the best song in the world, but it was the first time he had ever sung. He smiled and started to laugh at his own silliness. He was singing of all things! Him singing with happiness in his voice at even the hardest moments in the song...it was amazing! He couldn't feel the hate anymore, it was obscured by the happiness and the light...life was good for once, all it needed now was some company.
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Old May 29, 2004, 01:13 AM   #2 (permalink)
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It was odd, Honets thought. He and Sir Rocko had not slept at all since arriving on Arios on the previous brightening. Out of habit, Honets had tried to sleep, but had soon given it up and decided to work on some unfinished songs in his journal. When the rising suns began to brighten his room, he had closed the journal and headed into the forest with Sir Rocko, hoping to stumble across something, or someone, that would lead him to the Enchanted Grove that he was sure must be somewhere on this island.

The Moraden bard continued to work on an unfinished song as he ambled aimlessly with Sir Rocko through the woods. The grey wolf dashed excitedly around, disappearing for a few seconds to inspect a movement or noise, but always reappearing quickly, just long enough to make sure Honets had not vanished, then dashing off again to investigate something else. Therefore, when the beast failed to come back for several minutes, Honets became intrigued, and a little worried. He softly whistled the first few bars of The Dracon’s Lullaby, a familiar song to the wolf, and one that should bring him back.

Sure enough, a moment later Sir Rocko padded silently up to Honets from off to his right. The wolf nuzzled the pocket that held several small pieces of dried meat, and Honets smiled and drew out a few of the treats for his companion. Sir Rocko snapped up his reward, but instead of issuing his customary sharp yip of acknowledgement, uttered a low growl. It was not a menacing tone, more of a attention getting noise, to let Honets know that he had sensed something. ”Did y’ find m’ Enchanted Glade, fella? Nah, I guess that’d be too good t’ hope fer.”

Honets listened intently and looked around. He saw nothing but trees and bushes, pretty, but nothing to disturb Sir Rocko. It might well be the scent of something that had alerted the wolf, and if that was so, Honets would never detect it, but then he heard something. Faintly, in the direction from which Sir Rocko had just come, Honets could hear singing. He began walking towards the sound, becoming more excited as the singing became clearer. Not because the singing was superb, but because the song was unknown to him. Of all the things that could draw his interest, a new song was easily the strongest attraction to the Dracon bard. Perhaps it was only a lumberjack, or a meandering wanderer like himself, or perhaps it was the trees themselves singing to him! After his adventures in the Dolwoods and the Serewood, he could not discount that last possibility, but it didn’t really matter. It was a new song, and he needed to discover the singer and convince whoever, or whatever, it was to teach it to him!

He was closer than he thought to the unknown singer, and Honets caught sight of the dark figure, canted happily against a tree, just as the last verse ended. ”Sarah-lee!” he called out as he drew within a few paces. “Hope y’ don’t mind us interruptin’ y’. I never expected t’ hear somebody else singin’ out here, but I’m sure glad I did. Oh, I’m Honets Greysinger,” he introduced himself with a sweeping bow. ”An’ th’ fuzzy songdog there is Sir Rocko.” Honets’ arm made a graceful arc in the direction of the wolf that had decided to position itself a safe distance away. Sir Rocko was not frightened of this stranger, but he was being cautious. Honets ignored the wolf’s wariness.

As if the stranger was an old friend, Honets brushed back his multicolored gleeman’s cloak from around his shoulders and assumed a position similar to that of Solaris against a nearby tree. Beneath the cloak was a white slash-sleeved shirt and black trousers, and an unsheathed elven long-knife was thrust negligently behind his belt, as if the bard was unconcerned about harming himself or others with a careless movement. ”I never heard that song before. Would y’ mind teachin’ it t’ me?”
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Old May 30, 2004, 03:30 PM   #3 (permalink)
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omething about Arios just seemed right to Solaris, maybe even a bit more than Syl'rosya had felt to him. Perhaps it was because both were both so odd that it made a good fit. The island of Arios was odd on its own and the people in it added another flare of oddity. When one reached the island, that would find they couldn't sleep, not from a lack of trying though. The tree's here grew twice as fast as any in the whole Empire; it was almost as if a druid had placed a spell over the whole forest that would last as long as the world.

Solaris was a half breed, not an odd thing really, but he was not a normal half breed. His different polarities of good and evil had come from the necessity of surviving as a slave, they had been created so that when need be, he could slip from conciseness and let them take over, a mistake he paid for greatly. Sooner or later the forces became stronger and had slowly started to kill him from the inside; somehow he had made it out alive and is who he is now thanks to it. His song had reflected most of this though, and as he sang he felt all those bad memories flying from his mind and out his mouth...who knew what would fill their places, but it mattered not, they could no longer affect him in the way they once could.

He felt happy as his song ended, but just as it did an old man had appeared before him. His skin and hair were gray, although the things he wore were very colorful. He spoke with some sort of accent, but it was fairly easy to understand him. "Serale my friend, I do not mind the company, Infact I welcome it! Well Honets, my name is...Mellonamin, 'tis a pleasure to meet you." He smiled, but frowned on the inside for still using the fake name. He could still not bear to use the name of that accursed man whom he had once been, but he knew someday he would have to once again. "A song dog? I don't quite believe I've ever heard of one of those before, but hello Sir Rocko" He smiled as the animal, even though it had hidden itself away from him.

He was quite taken aback by the request of the man; he wanted to learn his song? It hadn't been that great and it sure as heck wasn't that well sounding. He placed a hand behind his head and scratched it lightly in confusion. "You want to learn...my song? I don’t know if I could really sing it again, I mean...I just sort of made it up on the spot...but um...I'll try." And so he recited his song to Honets as best as he could remember it, most parts were the same however there where a few changes in the rhyme here and there to make it sound better. When he was finished he got the same feeling as before and placed a wide smile on his face. "Now tell me Honets, why did you want to know my song? It's certainly not the best one ever, nor is it even very good, I suppose I'm just wondering why you'd want to know a bad song" He smiled and let out a small laugh...my he was in a good mood today.
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Old June 1, 2004, 10:23 PM   #4 (permalink)
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The slight pause before the stranger gave his name indicated that the name might not be the one he usually used, or that he was worried about Honets’ reaction to it. Mellonamin? The name was innocuous, and as a Dracon, Honets understood the need to keep some things hidden. Whatever name the fellow wanted to use was fine with him. The elf was obviously not a bard, though Honets thought that there might be some talent in him. After all, he had made up a song spontaneously. Not a great song, as he acknowledged, but quite admirable for what was apparently a first effort. The lyrics of the song were unspecific, but to Honets they suggested a dark and troublesome past, from which the elf was now released. It was a very private song, given voice for the enjoyment of just a single soul, the singer’s. No other could really understand the references to slavery, the escape, an elf named Jentai, and all of the other things in the song. Mellonamin’s joy in singing it was apparent, and Honets was delighted that he had found the chance to hear it.

"Now tell me Honets, why did you want to know my song? . . . I suppose I'm just wondering why you'd want to know a bad song"

Honets held out both arms, displaying his vividly colored cloak. ”I’m a bard,” he said, as if that explained everything. Like most bards, however, he would not stop at a few words, when he could use many. ”I sing fer a livin’, an’ I try learnin’ new songs ev’ry chance I get. Now, yer song, it wasn’t bad. Wasn’t bad at all. Simple, an’ a little rough, but I’ve made songs that sounded lots worse th’ first time aroun’. I’ll need t’ make some changes in th’ tune, b’fore I sing it to an audience, an’ add some lyrics that work a li’l better. It’s a dang good start, though.”

His smile did not fade, but his tone was solemn as he offered a choice to the elf. ”In exchange for th’ inspiration, I owe y’ a boon. If y’ need crowns, I offer 100 of ‘em, an’ I’d count m’self th’ better off for it. Or I offer a Bard’s Blessin’, said t’ increase luck an’ deter misfortune, if y’ believe th’ tales heard in taverns. If neither of those appeal t’ y’, th’ only other thing I can only offer is a song, in exchange fer th’ song I’m takin’. It’s yer choice, an’ if y’ want t’ think on it a while, y’ can find me at the Stopover Tavern most nights fer th’ next cycle ‘r two.”

Honets finally paused to allow Solaris to respond. The elf’s choice would tell the Dracon a lot about what sort of person he was. Honets felt that the last option was the best, but not everyone loved music as obsessively as he did.
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Old June 7, 2004, 07:19 AM   #5 (permalink)
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His brow raised slightly when Honets had said bard. He hadn't heard of such a thing before, but then again he wasn't very wise in the ways of the people of the world, he had been in a cage of sorts for most of his life. He did smile though when Honets started to compliment his song, for even though he knew it wasn't good...he was still proud of his first song. With time his songs would improve-hopefully anyway- and perhaps he might share his songs with things other than trees.

When the bard started to offer him crowns for the song he merely shook his head. He had enough crowns to hold him for a fair time and the song wasn't really worth any monetary value to him...it'd be like he was selling his past and soul. His smiled widened when the bard offered a song; he'd love to hear another final song!

"Crowns I have, and I never believe much I hear in taverns, which leaves the choice of a song. A fair trade I would say...a song for a song. All that I ask is that it be a happy one, I can't take all the sad stuff you know." He grinned at that, for it was more a joke he would understand than Honets.
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Old June 13, 2004, 05:16 PM   #6 (permalink)
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Lute

”A song fer a song then. An’ a happy one!” Honets echoed. As he usually did, Honets considered his audience before deciding on the song he would perform. In this case he had to exclude several tunes from consideration. Stonesmith’s Daughter, for example, was a bright tune with amusing lyrics, but an elf might not appreciate the dwarven ditty. Willow Breeze was an elven love song, but with a bittersweet message. Other songs were considered, and rejected for various reasons, but the winnowing process actually took only a few seconds before Honets reached his decision.

The Dracon stood, then reached into his pack and brought out a violin case. With a flick of his thumbs he snapped open the latches and opened the case to reveal the exquisite instrument that he had named Songbrooke, in honor of the Empire’s greatest bard. He lifted out the bow and violin, took a few strokes with the bow to check the tuning, and smiled at the elf he knew as Mellonamin. ”A happy one,” he repeated. ”This is th’ happiest one I know. It’s called Blessed Brightenin’. It’s a hymn fer Diana that I sing at dawn almost every brightenin’.” He gave Solaris a short nod, then drew the bow across the strings to bring forth the first notes of the encouraging song.

The lyrics were more than just a litany of praise for the goddess, and the tune was not simply a solemn hymn. The lyrics of the chorus expressed delight that the suns had once again dispelled the darkness, while affirming that the brightening ahead would be glorious. The verses glorified Diana for defeating the Cyraxians, for freeing Dracons from the evil subjugation of their creation, and for Her creation of Sprites. The music from the violin expressed a soaring, inspirational celebration of the return of light after a long darkness.

The tune ended with a rising flourish on the violin. As the last note faded, Honets extended both arms, the violin in his left hand and the bow in his right, and bowed deeply to his audience of one, elegantly sweeping his arms back to make his multi-colored cloak swirl artistically. He remained bent for a few seconds before he raised his head to look at Solaris. As he returned to full height, the bard grinned and asked, "Have I met th' price, or do y’ require ‘nother?"
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Old July 6, 2004, 08:30 PM   #7 (permalink)
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OOC:Sorry for the long wait!!

IC:He smiled and nodded, he would remember the name of the song for later, but for now he sat back and listened to the tune. As soon as it started he felt something snap inside of him, but something good. His ears seeme dto only tune into the song as it filled his heart with a great swell of joy. He could relate with the song, that was most likely why he loved it so much. He was much like the song, a new light that had come after a long period of great darkness...the song almost seemed to be about him...or so he would think anyway. "No, the price has been met, however if you wish to sing more, well then I would not stop you. Your talent is great and I very much enjoyed that song, thank you sir Honets."
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Old August 1, 2004, 02:56 AM   #8 (permalink)
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OOC:
Sorry for the delay. I had a real mental block on this one.

IC:
Honets laughed aloud at Solaris’ statement. ”Sir Rocko answers t’ th’ title, but Sir Honets is a bit more of a title than I’m used t’. I wouldn’t mind havin’ th’ Queen of th’ Fae grant me knighthood, or th’ Lylles king, or is it a queen now. I can’t seem t’ remember. No matter. It ain’t happened yet, an’ it ain’t likely either, so why don’t y’ jus’ call me Honets, Sir Mellonamin?” His wide smile showed that he was very amused at the title. It might be a title that the elf actually deserved, but that seemed only a very slight possibility. The fellow’s dark cloak was of a fine material, and that ring he wore was no cheap bauble, but his features seemed not purely Sylvan. The ragged boots and the lyrics of his song also indicated that if Mellonamin ever was a nobleman, his fortunes had waned. The mystery of who this stranger was might just make a good song, but there wouldn’t be many verses unless Honets could learn more about this elf.

The bard ran the bow idly over the strings a few times, producing notes unconnected to any song, then set the fiddle back in its case. He did not close the case, though, which indicated that he might pick it up again later. Honets reached for his pack and after digging into it a bit removed two apples and a small knife. He set one of the apples where Solaris could easily pick it up if he liked, then began peeling the other. ”Have that other apple if y’ like. I got plenty. Sir Rocko only likes t’ eat the skin, so we’ll share this’n.”

He worked the blade around the apple, seeming to concentrate on that task instead of on the words he spoke. ”I like t’ write songs ‘bout th’ places I go, an’ th’ folks I meet, but I can’t write a good song without knowin’ all I can ‘bout th’ subject. I been told I ask too dang many questions sometimes, but it’s th’ best way I know t’ find out, so don’t be offended if I seem a bit too nosy. If y’ wouldn’t mind, I’d like t’ hear what brought y’ out here,” he gestured vaguely with his head at the forest surrounding them, ”t’ sing where nobody’d hear y’. An’ why those lyrics? They seemed a li’l dark, but y’ ain’t a Vyssie. At least, y’ don’t look like th’ few I’ve seen, an’ y’ don’t act like ‘em either.” Speaking of Dark Elves brought a slight tremor to his hand and ended the long spiral with half of the apple still unpeeled. With a flick of his hand Honets tossed the half-skin to Sir Rocko. With a short leap the wolf snatched it out of the air, and in a few swallows it was gone. Honets renewed his assault on the half-naked apple while he waited for Solaris to respond.
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Old September 5, 2004, 11:38 PM   #9 (permalink)
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OOC:Sorry, RL issues

IC:He smiled slightly at the man's objection of the title and had to restrain himself from laughing at the same time. The old man seemed liked to talk it seemed, that and talk about more than one subject at once. The fact that the old man had then turned the tables on him and called him a sir, which was never going to happen. In his opinion, a sir was a person who either seemed to deserve respect, had lots of money, or was...elderly.

He nearly frowned when the man placed the instrument away, but he left the case open which hinted that perhaps he would play later. Sola....Mellonamin loved music, and the prospect of hearing the bard again was exciting to him.

He had stayed quiet for awhile, leaving that sort of awkward silence between two people when only one person talks. He had picked up the thrown apple and look at it oddly. He smiled again as Honest talked, taking a bite out of the apple every now and then. "So he wants to know me? Do I even know me? The reason I am here...in the forest...why am I here? What willed me to sing to nothingness when I have never sang before..."

He sighed, he truly didn't have an answer for the man...but he would try. Well to start...I am here because I am running...from myself, from my past, from the blood the runs in my veins. You say I do not look like a 'vyssie', but thats because I am only part, my other half...is pure blooded Syl'rosyan. I was a being, split in half, torn by insanity that was created by my battling blood and morals. To live as a vyssie...it would be easy, for my appearance matches theirs...but I am not more a cold-blooded killer than you are a swordsman. However...to live as an elf, it seems near impossible. My appearance is that of their hated kin, but my soul is as bright as the suns. After the war in Syl'rosya...I had to get out of the place where I need to be. They would never trust that I wasn't an enemy in a city where I looked like the attackers who had lost!"

"So I ran to this place...a place where nightmares cannot haunt my dreams because there is no sleep...and today I found myself in these woods...looking at these trees that hold so much life, yet I cannot see the beauty of them. I have not seen life since I died in Syl'rosya...all that I see is...time slowly running out."
He placed the half-eaten apple on the ground and brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, and placing his head in the middle. "What I sang...was my history since I had been brought into this world. From slavery, to insanity...to singing to trees...what a pitiful thing I have become." The last part he had mumbled under his breath to himself more than to Honest

It was true that he might have let out a bit more than the bard had wanted to know, but it helped him every time he let some of his pain out and told others of it.
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