As usual, here's a brand-new open post for all of you to post characters, mingle, and tag each other!
Seriously, post whatever you want. Empty toplevels? Open starters? Starters closed to specific people? It's all good — just enjoy! And as always, tag out and have fun!
[ Hello! Are you up for a WoL/Highlander Bard who may be a little too nice for his own good? Probably also willing to listen to Emet-Selch even if he witholds any true outward judgement? Also let me know at which point you'd like to make this meeting first happen! - ]
[ I am always up for WoL interaction! And as for what point in time for them to meet, I'm honestly good for any time! I usually just go with the flow so if you have a preference I am happy to oblige. ]
[ Oh, how far Kris Fallon had come from a humble beginnings of a caravan that went through the Sagoli desert to this. It was funny how one's life could turn on the drop of a gil and you would find yourself thrust into near unimaginable situations. And it wasn't that Kris minded, of course not-- he certainly thought the Scions were 'good un's' and he'd come to know them as family. Their struggles became his struggles, their victories-- his as well. And yet he still tried to keep humble through it all.
But he'd never even thought that he'd end up here, a world away on a Shard of the Source, amid the towering forests of Rak'tika-- traipsing through ruins that were set so foreign as to almost seem fantastic. The battles fought, the battles near won, personal and emotional-- and then there were the friends in 'unlikely' places.
He'd never really anticipated ever really giving any credence to the Ascians. As far as he had seen to this date, they were masked faces with no real form or function other then to cause as much chaos and trouble as could be imagined and yet there was something about Emet-Selch that tugged at something within him, perhaps some form of-- sympathy? Kinship? Oh he'd not put a name to it, it was hard to when his hold on trying to keep everything he was learning together coupled with keeping the light at bay within him.
Not only a bard now, but a juggler as well.
And when Emet-Selch had singularly plucked Y'shtola back from the Lifestream, well-- that was humbling and Kris had quite honestly been grateful. He could accept it for what it was, for a singular act of kindness and he could be grateful for that same act that had brought their friend back into their fold. Ah, but now Emet-Selch had disappeared and Kris was just wandering around Fanow, hoping to find him within his wanderings so that he could suitably thank him for that kindness.
However it soon became clear to Kris that this.. man, he would only appear if he was not looked for; that seemed to be his way. Kris had enough dealings with the cats around Forgotten Springs to know that if you were looking for any particular one, you just had to 'not' look for them, they'd pop out of the woodwork soon enough. And so it was there that Kris found himself on a veranda at one of the most top echelons of the main tree of Fanow, sitting on a chair by a balcony, lightly tuning his bard bow in preparation for them going into Quitana.
He had just finished the restringing process and was trying out a test tune on it, just a play of notes and melodies upon it- a finger plucking individual strings to make sure that the sound remained consistant to how it 'should' be. ]
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But he'd never even thought that he'd end up here, a world away on a Shard of the Source, amid the towering forests of Rak'tika-- traipsing through ruins that were set so foreign as to almost seem fantastic. The battles fought, the battles near won, personal and emotional-- and then there were the friends in 'unlikely' places.
He'd never really anticipated ever really giving any credence to the Ascians. As far as he had seen to this date, they were masked faces with no real form or function other then to cause as much chaos and trouble as could be imagined and yet there was something about Emet-Selch that tugged at something within him, perhaps some form of-- sympathy? Kinship? Oh he'd not put a name to it, it was hard to when his hold on trying to keep everything he was learning together coupled with keeping the light at bay within him.
Not only a bard now, but a juggler as well.
And when Emet-Selch had singularly plucked Y'shtola back from the Lifestream, well-- that was humbling and Kris had quite honestly been grateful. He could accept it for what it was, for a singular act of kindness and he could be grateful for that same act that had brought their friend back into their fold. Ah, but now Emet-Selch had disappeared and Kris was just wandering around Fanow, hoping to find him within his wanderings so that he could suitably thank him for that kindness.
However it soon became clear to Kris that this.. man, he would only appear if he was not looked for; that seemed to be his way. Kris had enough dealings with the cats around Forgotten Springs to know that if you were looking for any particular one, you just had to 'not' look for them, they'd pop out of the woodwork soon enough. And so it was there that Kris found himself on a veranda at one of the most top echelons of the main tree of Fanow, sitting on a chair by a balcony, lightly tuning his bard bow in preparation for them going into Quitana.
He had just finished the restringing process and was trying out a test tune on it, just a play of notes and melodies upon it- a finger plucking individual strings to make sure that the sound remained consistant to how it 'should' be. ]