[Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

Open thread for anyone to stop and tell Timmond about themselves or local history or folkflore

Once an isolated and dying township, an influx of academics, adventurers and thrill seekers have made Scalvoris Town their home. From scholars' tea shops to a new satellite campus for Viden Academy, this is an exciting place to visit or make your home!

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Timmond
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[Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

Saun 27, evening, Hot Cycle Era 722

The Four in a Hand Casino was to be tonight's attempt to record history. Timmond had only been on the island a short while and had very little luck finding locals willing to let him record their stories, for historical purposes, of course. He had hopes that maybe a more "down to earth" establishment might make for a more collaborative environment. Timmond entered the bar portion of the building and found a table to sit at. He nervously ordered a tankard of ale from the wench and set up a small sign at the end of his table. The sign read: "Free drinking companion - Tell me your story*!" And below another note reading "*Drinks not supplied". He took out his book, quill and ink well and he started to jot down notes of his surroundings, descriptions of the patrons and the workers.

If anyone were to approach his table he would greet them. "Oh, uh, H-Hello there. Would you like some co-companionship while you, uh, drink? I'd love to hear your story, and uh, write-write it down. If that is okay, that is... Uh, p-please?"
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Kisaik Glory
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

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Saun 27, evening, Hot Cycle Era 722


Kisaik enjoyed the fizzy drinks of the tall-folk. He had developed quite the taste for mead and beer in particular since he'd arrived in Melrath several arcs ago now. There, his friend Soren had introduced him to the wonders of all the variety of liquors on offer. It was a good time in his life, and the habit of having a fizzy tall-folk drink every now and again had stuck with him. Right now, he was enjoying a glass of rum, garnished with lemons and sweetened withi honey. He stood in the big mug, up to his hips in the fluid, drinking through his feet as he sometimes did (and tunawa did as a matter of their nature). Sometimes he preferred to drink with his mouth, but he was feeling a bit like soaking it directly into his sap. There was something to be said for the happiness found at the bottom of a mug, when your feet were soaking in the sauce.

He caught the attention of a nearby serving maid, who he waved over. He had of course spotted the sign that the man set out. "Excuse me miss, can you read that sign? What does it say?"

She replied, "Free drinking companion - Tell me your story." Then added drily, "Drinks not supplied."

Kisaik scratched his lichen-covered chin, before hopping in his mug. "Very well, I shall provide the drinks and we'll have a night of telling tales of ourselves! Bring me to him would you? And bring him the beverage of his choice, compliments of Sir Chip!"

Thus, his mug was placed gingerly on a serving tray. She arrived at Timmond's table, and set Kisaik, mug and all, down in front of the man. Kisaik looked up at him. It might've seemed odd, to see a tunawa in this place, looking very much like a garnish in a drinking mug. But there he was. Before the man had a chance to confuse what exactly he was, he spoke to him, "Hullo! I'm here to tell my story, since you requested companions. And I wouldn't mind providing drinks to anyone who wishes to do the same!"

Kisaik added, "But where are my manners? I am Mädärä Kisaik Ciuruọrun sọ Kufuata Karo Kashe Däuä, Tìfmi Härumtä sọ anou Faewun Samuwar, ọbavi sọ tẹlẹ, igbaradi sọ anou tabi ọludïbọ, Saoire's chieja kẹmïkälï kukïrï, Akoko Nọọsi, qy’akot o'Creede. At your service! Who might you be, good sir?"


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Jaxson Finley
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

It had been a long trial and the last few breaks seemed to creep along at a snail's pace. Jaxson had desperately needed to be done with his incredible boring and tedious piece on the new market stalls for The Cabin Boy, but had forced himself to work for three breaks or until it was done, either way. When it was finished, he was mostly happy with the introduction paragraph, which drew in the reader to the slog that was description after description of each individual stall that had sprung up in anticipation of the harvest. The closing paragraph was also nicely organized, though it had taken him the better part of a break to get it out.

"I hate writing pieces like that," he said under his breath as he walked through the tavern.

That's when he noticed the sign "Free drinking companion - Tell me your story!” The man at the table had a quill and paper. He wasn’t the most universally attractive person in the place. That honor of course was Jaxson’s. That said, the person wouldn’t be embarrassing for Jaxson to be seen with and Jaxson sure did enjoy talking about himself… more, he knew, than he should. He also appeared to have a pet with him, which seemed a bit out of place, but considering the world is made all the more flavorful with different types of folks, Jaxson didn't mind.

“I’m Jaxson,” he said to the man with the pen. “Looking for company? I don’t have the best story, but I know quite a few I can share.”
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Timmond
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

A look of confusion twisted Timmond's face as the barmaid set down the mug. "Oh, I'm sorry there must be some confusion, I didn't or-" Timmond stopped mid word as he heard speaking coming from the mug. He turned his attention back to the deposited mug and noticed then that a Tunawa was in the mug. He turned apologetically to the barmaid to dismiss her, but she had already moved on to the next table.

"Oh, my my, what a name! You are the first Tunawa I have met, so most carry such long names?" Timmond asked, forgetting that he had been asked to introduce himself, "Cou-could you say it again, b-but slower so that I cou-could write it down? Uh, please? That is, if you don't mind."

It was about then that Jaxson approached the table. "Oh, uh, p-please, have a seat. The more the, uh, Marrier, as they say? That is if you don't min-mind?" Timmond was referring back to the Tunawa to approve.

"Oh, yes, my my, Where are my manners? My name is Timmond Wheaton. You cou-could call me anything you like except Timmy, if you please. Heh, Uhhmm. I-I am a his-historian of sorts. You see, I want to record details of life that is ha-happening now. So that future his-historians won't have to guess about today's societies so mu-much.

"If you wouldn't mi-mind, I'd like to record your answers. So I-I'll be taking some notes while you speak. If you wo-wouldn't mind, then terribly so m-much, could you each tell me briefly how y-you have come to find me here, and where you were from originally?"
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Jaxson Finley
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

Jaxson eased up to the table, half sitting on one of the stools before he was actually invited to do so by the man there. "His name is Timmond," Jaxson catalogued, "he is a historian of sorts and he has a stammer." Jaxson was an observant fellow with a good memory, but he had trained himself long ago to be very intentional with what he remembered. It made reporting for The Cabin Boy that much easier. He could typically recall such intentionally stowed information while writing, meaning he didn't have to take as many notes.

"Greetings to you both," Jaxson replied, surprised to learn that the historian was talking to a Tunawa, not a pet. Honestly, it made things less awkward. Sitting with another man in a tavern only to have that man talking to his pet the whole time would be have been less than ideal. "A fine trial to you both," he added with a short bow from his seated position. Manners first.

Jax flashed them both a smile, the kind of smile that made lesser men simultaneously feel even less, but also inspire to be more. He had been working on it for some time in the mirror, testing it out on passerby and shop-keeps alike, and now it was second-nature to him. He knew what it meant to project such confidence, especially when needing to relate reliable information and Jaxson was nothing if not trustworthy.

"My name is Jaxson Finley. J-A-X-S-O-N and Finley is F-I-N-L-E-Y," Jax said. "You can call me Jax," he added. "As for how I found you," Jax said, scratching his chin in a very emphatically curious sort of way. Then he pointed at the sign and laughed loudly, "Your sign of course!"

He had himself a good laugh, a jolly laugh, and in that moment Jax knew he had needed that. It had been a long Trial and laughing made his tired brain feel better. Then he continued...

"I'm a writer for The Cabin Boy, as well as, a budding poet. And I'm originally from here, well a village not far from here, but here never the less!"
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Kisaik Glory
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

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Another person joined them, a writer by his own admission. At this, Kisaik wondered at his own luck. Perhaps he could hire him to write a biography of sorts for Kisaik, or perhaps a serial of his adventures. Something to spread the hope of good works and heroism to the masses! But for now, he had to mind his manners, as Mr. Timmond had asked him to repeat his name, but slower. "Ah yes, of course... Allow me to translate from the Xanthean, if you would?"

"Mädärä Kisaik Ciuruọrun (My proper name and first title, that of Sir or Knight in your language.) sọ Kufuata Karo (Of the Clan Karo, that is my branch of the great tree, Magani in Desnind.). The rest of my names are titles I've acquired from my many adventures. Kashe Däuä (meaning dark bark in your tongue, I acquired from my adventure right here in Scalvoristown, in a library as it happens, where we were confronted by a cursed lady.)" Kisaik went on to regale the two with the story of how he, a godling named Tio, and a stranger from Melrath had tried and failed to reign in the chaos that was unleashed upon that bookstore, "Then my name... Tìfmi Härumtä sọ anou Faewun Samuwar I got from when I saved, along with the other wardens of the First Tree, the Fairie realm of Jesine from the corruption of the evil wizard and Immortal, Aelig" Kisaik told them this story as well, at length. "My next title, ọbavi sọ tẹlẹ, (Slayer of hands in your tongue was from the bookstore, when I accidentally severed that stranger from Melrath's hand with a portal. The next title 'igbaradi sọ anou tabi ọludïbọ' Means Warden of the First Tree' which to this day stands in Yaralon, and provides clean water and fresh farm land for the many who live there." Kisaik told them this story as well. Kisaik took a breath after that, and nearly got misty, remembering his friend Rabu and their other wardens, who were now Ashan-knew-where. Still, it was a sweet memory.

"My next title I'm fairly proud of: Saoire's chieja kẹmïkälï kukïrï, Saoire's brave storyteller, for giving Saoire the story of how I acquired the Magic Acorn from the jaws of a Sessfiend." Kisaik told them this story, as well as that of the planting of Naficula Adanu in Saoire's garden. "Next, there was the time I awakened the benevolent dragon from the Heart of the World, Vindecaldra, the Forge of Rebirth. I became Akoko Nọọsi then, the Freer of Flame in your tongue." Kisaik told them this story, and finally came to his final name, and one that he was no less proud of. "qy’akot o'Creede or clan friend or member of the Clan of Vega Creede. I gained it by long-standing friendship and earning the trust of the Creede Clan. I'm very honored to be an 'odd-parent' to the children of the Creede family."

Kisaik took a deep breath, and as he did so, the two in front of him could've sworn his mug got two inches emptier than it had before he started telling all of these stories. "So my friends, what stories have you to tell of yourselves? I'm very interested to hear of your travels? And you..." Kisaik turned to face Jaxson, "You are a writer? I wonder if you could write my biography! I would pay you well in golden nels to do so..."


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word count: 620
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Timmond
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

Timmond couldn't help but feel a certain inadequacy just from being in the presence of someone who looked and spoke like Jaxson. His insecurities were emboldened, his stutter stronger, and the amount of will power it took to even look at him was greatly increased. His drinking companions might have even noticed that he took a few shakey breaths before continuing to write down the information that Jax had provided him this far. "Ohh-oh, ye-yes, the sign o-of course. Heh," a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. It was clearly forced. "I, uh, well I am g-glad to have met a lo-lo... Hmmm... Someone familiar w-with the area. Per-perhaps y-you could shed some li-light on an event that you wi-witnessed?" Another slow exhale. Timmond was feeling absolutely inadequate. "Anything wo-would be f-fine. Just tell me wh-when the event ha-ha-haa... Hmmm... Took place, and where, first. If you please."

As to the Tunawa, Timmond could hardly believe that the little being before him had done so much. "Ha-hardly polite of me to as-ask you this, and so I apologize, b-but h-how old ar-are you ex-exactly? Yo-yui've done so much!"

He was instantly jealous of Jax for the offer to be paid to write his biography. Here he was, pen in hand ready to write. But clearly someone as adventurous and experienced as Kisaik could just see that Timmond wasn't what he wanted in an author of his life's story. Timmond opened and closed his mouth at least three times working up the courage to ask to be considered. But in the end he couldn't muster it. He simply resigned himself to having been looked over... Again. He would have visibly shrunk in on himself at this resignation.

Timmond would gesture with his head, unable to bring himself to look at Jax at the moment. "Pl-please, at least men-mention me in a footnote about your me-meeting when y-you pub-publish his st-st- hmmm.... Biography. Heh..." It was a sad chuckle, it would be difficult not to notice. The overweight historian blinking his eyes several times to keep the water out of them.

He shook his head to refocus on the notes at hand. He was scribbling quickly with his quill in a shorthand that would probably be familiar to Jaxson, another practiced writer.
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Jaxson Finley
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

"Nonsense!" proclaimed Jaxson with a smile that could melt the thickest snow in Scalvoris.

He motioned to their host, the timid Timmond.

"This man is clearly suited to writing your biography. Look at his work ethic, sitting here in a crowded tavern on such a night, pen in hand, no thought for frivolity or the sensual touch of another. No! He sits with pen and paper ready to take down the stories of those who have lived and loved despite his ignorance of both. This is your biographer, sir Kisaik!"

With that, Jaxson leaned back in his chair and took a long draft from his ale, proud of his moment of humility and charity.

It was at that point that Jaxson realized something... he was sitting in a casino, but wasn't gambling. Having a drink with people, but they were not friends. He was practically living the opposite of his normal night and something about that was exhilarating. Something about it was thrilling. Even Jax, as fun as he was - and he is the most fun person, could surprise himself. It made him smile all the broader. In that moment, he felt humbled by destiny.

It then occurred to him, but if for only a brief instant, that perhaps his definition of "humility" was a little off. It came to him like a sprinter in the dark, there but for only a brief flash, visible and obvious, and then just as quickly it was blurred and out of sight. And just like that, Jaxson dismissed the thought with a flick of his hair behind his ear and another sip of his ale.
Last edited by Jaxson Finley on Fri Sep 23, 2022 1:41 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 273
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Kisaik Glory
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?


Jax exclaimed that Timmond was far more qualified to tell Kisaik's biography. Well, that was odd! Perhaps he simply didn't want the job or was too busy. He could have simply said that. Either way, Kisaik was perfectly content to take anyone who was a writer, who enjoyed stories, and history, to be the author of his biography. That is, if they wanted to.

"Oh my," Kisaik said, feeling suddenly very embarrassed. "I was so caught up with the idea of meeting two very talented writers that I didn't consider that either one might not be willing to write my story! Apologies!"

He nodded his head at either one. "But the offer stands, if either of you gentlemen wish to write it, I'd be happy to sit down and give you the full story, dates, locations, and all. I will pay well, too!"

He then turned to Timmond, and smiled, "Well, I was born in 699 23 arcs ago..." Kisaik wasn't shy about his age. It didn't occur to him either that he shouldnt' have accomplished much in his relatively short time. As far as he was concerned, that was entirely in a person's power to alter. Kisaik had sought adventure, and little else. So it stood to reason that he had quite a few to tell of.

"So I feel as if I was too forward. And I've saturated your ears with stories of my own life..." Kisaik sounded contrite as he said it, then he turned to Jax, "Why don't you tell our illustrious historian some of your own stories?" Kisaik thought it only fair that he not be the only one to tell tales.


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Timmond
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Re: [Four in a hand] Tell me your story.... Uh, please?

Generosity? Humility? Timmond wasn't convinced that Jaxson actually knew what those words mean. His nervous nature pushed him to withdrawal from conflict, but his face was flushed, nearly beat red from the fellow writer's comments. He took another long slow breath. "I-I don't N-Need your charity," he said slowly but clearly, but still unable to make eye contact. He paused another moment, a long exhale, "b-but... I will ac-accept it anyway."

Timmond waves to catch the eye of the bar wench to order another drink, but she didn't seem to notice him.

What should have been seen as a victory to have won the commission, only felt more insulting. "Thank y-you, gu-good sir, I will gladly accept your re-request for a biography. Wh-when shall we meet to go over in m-more detail about your history?"

Kisaik moved the conversation back to Jaxson and his history. "O-or, if you would pr-prefer, tell the story of a lo-local legend."

The server was closer now, he tried again to draw her over. " Uh, ex-excuse me? Miss? C-could I get another one?" But Timmond the Timmid's voice was drowned out by the general dinn of the scenery. He resigned himself to having just the one. His companions probably noticed his failed attempts. "One g-good thing about be-being unnoticed is th-that sometimes they fo-forget to collect the ta-ta- hmmm... Bill!" Timmond says with the littlest of smiles, "But s-seriously this me-mead is terrible. Wh-what was it made w-with, bog honey?"

Timmond knew when he got his brewery set up running that he would have to find a buyer, he was confident that perhaps he had a customer here. But then again, maybe they liked it cheap and dirty. The surroundings would seem to indicate as such.
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