Storytelling Night at the Liberry

[Frisbee]

First off, I'm really, really sorry for spamming the thread, and the boards in general, with so many posts, but I absolutely had to post this too. Avan's player was unfortunately unable to attend the event, but he did tell his story at a later time. Here it is.

Cerise continues to watch a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin and you bicker for a few moments before she leans a little closer to Avan and asks in an aside, "Did you have a story prepared?"
You say, "I don't know what a lot of that means. But I appreciate the part I do understand."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin stares.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin directs his attention to Avan.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin asks, "Ay, had you one?"
Avan flushes slightly, glancing away from Cerise. He replies quietly, "Me? No. No, I don't- I'm sure I haven't got any stories that'd merit a goblet."
Cerise doesn't seem convinced. Clicking her tongue against the back of her teeth, she notes to Avan, "Well-read man like you? I imagine you have quite a few stories."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Mm."
Avan clears his throat. "I could - I mean, if we're not doing anything anyway. I know one story."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "Out on't, son!"
Cerise offers up a most brilliant smile to Avan when she agrees with a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin, saying, "I'd love to hear it."
Speaking to himself, a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin asks, "Where did the stool go?"
Avan looks around for the stool, frowning. "Heavens, I swear it was here... did you want me to upturn a crate for you, sir?"
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "Shhh. Out on't!"
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin points at Avan.
Avan frowns severely, then clears his throat. He paces a little before starting, gathering his thoughts. At least one chicken flees from him. Finally he begins, "You see, there was this horse."
Cerise casually crosses her arms over her chest again, eyes tracking Avan as she listens.
Avan pauses, then resumes his pacing. "He was at the market one day - probably his rider was at the tavern or the produce stand or something, that bit's not important. But he heard a fellow at the market playing the harp."
Avan makes a few faint plinking gestures with his fingertips, pantomiming a harp. "The horse thinks to himself, that's a lovely sound. So he goes to the music shoppe and he says to the owner, 'I'd like to learn to play the harp.'".
Cerise nods a little, an encouraging smile upon her lips.
Avan pauses and looks to Cerise apologetically. "The horse talks. Did I mention that? Anyway, he does."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin laughs!
Cerise nods more seriously this time. "Of course he does," she agrees.
Avan says, "So the owner of the shoppe says, I can give you lessons. And the horse says, 'There's just one problem... I'm a horse.'."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin nods.
Cerise is chuckling now, her shoulders shaking with the quiet sound.
Avan frowns as if in empathy with the horse's predicament. "That's no problem, the owner tells him, I can teach horses to play." He smiles a little. "And so the horse learns to play the harp, and he's quite good. He wants to show his friends, so he writes a letter..."
Avan looks to Cerise again and says, aside, "He can write."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Obviously."
Cerise purses her lips into an amused little smile, nodding. "Of course, yes," she agrees with a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin.
Avan clears his throat and continues. "He writes a letter to a chicken, inviting him to play. The chicken is suitably impressed and inspired, and goes to the music shoppe herself." He holds up one finger high in the air. "'I need you to teach me the flute,' the chicken says to the shoppe owner."
Cerise shoots a look toward one of the chickens, squinting at it. She nods slowly, eyes returning to Avan.
Avan turns a little on his heel, spreading his hands. "The shoppe owner tells her that's alright, he can teach chickens to play the flute. So she learns and she's very good, probably as good as the horse is with his harp. The two of them are so good, in fact, that they send a letter to their friend the cow."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin hammers a rough bench together.
Avan pauses to consider. "I think maybe the chicken can't write, so the horse drafted it and she dictated. I'm not sure that's important either."
Cerise gasps softly, "This is a most important detail."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Never mind her. Carry on."
Avan pales. "Is it? I'll have to get that ironed out - well." He sighs loudly. "Anyway, the cow comes to watch them practice in the barn and she's very impressed too. She goes to the shoppe and tells the shop owner, 'I need you to teach me the psaltery, but there's just one problem.'".
Avan looks expectantly to a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin.
Sarah chimes in quietly, "I am a cow."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin is too busy at his work to notice the glance.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin has finished building a rough-carved pine bench.
Avan snaps his fingers, nodding to you. "Just exactly! The shoppe owner, however, sees no problem and teaches the cow her psaltery. The cow is gifted, and the three animals naturally form a band."
Cerise chuckles softly once more.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin sits down on a rough-carved pine bench.
Avan paces back and forth, talking animatedly with his hands. He pantomimes various instruments at various points, miming whatever one does with a psaltery. "They become a wild success, of course, playing at markets far and wide. Eventually they're discovered by a representative of the King, who invites them to perform at court."
Cerise openly admires Avan's abilities at miming playing the psaltery.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin applauds.
You nod.
Speaking to Cerise, a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "Captain!"
Cerise glances at a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin.
Avan opens his mouth to speak, then looks confused.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Who should have got first prize? Had it been up to you."
Cerise imparts to a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin in a stage whisper, "I don't think he's finished, sir."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Oh."
Avan asks, "I could - that's actually a pretty good ending if you want, sir?"
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "GO ON, Avan!"
Cerise shoots a look to Avan and frowns.
Avan sighs. He inhales deeply and says, "If we have to continue past that bit - a natural ending, I think - then I'm sad to report that the horse received a letter. His mother was ill and he must return home at once."
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "Oh, no!"
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "The poor mare!"
Avan nods solemnly. "The band agreed that cow and chicken would press on to court, and the horse would meet them there as soon as he was able." He licks his lips, gazing briefly up to the sky. "Sadly, the caravan that the cow and chicken traveled with was attacked by bandits and slaughtered to a man."
"Oh," Cerise quietly breathes, teeth nipping at her bottom lip at the sudden turn in the story.
Avan gestures with one hand. "Of course, the poor mare passed too. And so the horse had no mother, no band, no chance to play for the King, and nowhere to go. He was understandably depressed."
Cerise nods sadly in agreement with this logic.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin says, "Mm."
Avan chews on his lower lip. "And so the horse walks into a bar." He winces, like he doesn't want to finish, but does. "And the bartender asks, Why the long face?"
Cerise openly stares at Avan.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin gets up off a rough-carved pine bench.
You sigh.
A hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin slaps Avan across the face. VERY softly.
You stare at a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin.
Cerise continues staring at Avan for several long, long moments, before her head is suddenly tumbling back as she lets loose with a bright peal of laughter, her shoulders shaking as she does so.
Speaking to Cerise, a hooded average-height burly aging man with fair skin exclaims, "Don't encourage him!"
Avan accepts this small, soft bit of abuse like it's well deserved. He lowers his chin.

[Delphine]

Thank you for posting these logs, Frisbee! Especially the last. I had legitimately forgotten that Taliaferro had slapped Avan for that story. Hilarious.

[notgreg]

The amount of work that must have gone into cleaning these up & posting them (and going so far as to correct typos for us!) is absolutely staggering. Thank you, I had such a good time reading everyone's!

[saladbowl]

Thanks a bunch for posting and cleaning, had a lot of fun!

[artus]

Took forever to read and to realize how much I messed up my emote in that event, lol. Man, your creativity is top notch, every one of you. Let's see if we can come up with stuff for octum or something.

[Gorth]

Player driven events are what set games like this apart. The sheer level of comunity that this shows is staggering, and it makes me feel pride even though this isn't even my game.

All this is to say, Rias, you created a wonderful thing, and players, you make it all the more wonderful. Continue doing things like this so everyone feels the comunity.