Year 487 Summer Campaign

[Geoffrey]

"Do you know if he will be open to receiving guests in the morning?"

[GM Craig]

"No, we march at dawn."

[Geoffrey]

"That does leave me in something of a bind.

Would you be willing to relay a message to the Praetor for me?"

[GM Craig]

He looks impatient. "You may give your message to me, though I make no promises it will reach the Praetor. He is at rest now, and will rise early."

[Geoffrey]

"I see." Rodric said, keeping his tone neutral.

"Is there anyone I can give the message to that can insure it will reach the Praetor?"

[GM Craig]

He shakes his head impatiently. "No! I am as good as hope as you have, and I cannot guarantee the message will reach him in a timely manner, though not for lack of effort on my part. That is the best you are going to do here, now, this night. Now, my patience is at an end. Deliver your message and be gone, or put steel in your hand."

[GM Craig]

[OOC: I believe the ball is in your court, Sir Rodric. it's push forward or retreat at this point.]

[Geoffrey]

OOC: Waiting to see if Michelle has anything to add.

[Valka]

Deliver your message and be gone, or put steel in your hand."

"What of leather?" the young woman added, gesturing to the drum at her side. "I am a well-trained and traveled scop with songs and tales from near and far ocean shores."

[GM Craig]

He gives Valka an, are you serious? look, and turns back to Rodric.

"Well?"

[Valka]

A twinkle appeared in Valka's emerald eyes as the drum was slowly moved into her skilled hands. Oh I am very serious, that smile seemed to say. "This song in particular. A tale from your own lands."

"Cast..a..mere," she started singing slowly. "Cast..a..mere."

The drum started beating then.

"And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that lord of Castamere,
But now the rains we-ep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains we-ep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear."

Reference

[GM Craig]

[OOC: Ok this is good. Can I get a Drum roll and a Singing roll from Valka please?]

[Valka]

Valka Drumming to le Romans
1d20 <= 10
10 ... success

Valka Singing to le Romans
1d20 <= 10
14 ... failure

[GM Craig]

The knight reaches for Valka, but Rodric steps in to disrupt him. As Valka keeps singing and drumming - rather loudly - other knights join the hi-jinks. Valka drops the tune of her song a couple of times as she laughs while dodges grasping hands, but the drumming continues unabated. it is a comedic sight, half a dozen knights trying to grab her as she cavorts around evading them, while she laughs and sings and drums.

It is all brought to a rather abrupt halt when an imperious voice bellows from the Praetor's tent. "What foolishness is this!?"

Everyone stops and turns to see the Praetor, dressed in a luxurious night robe and cap, scowling from the front of the tent.

The Praetor's men seem frozen, but sure what to do. The one that had been speaking turns red, apparently afraid if the trouble he will be in. Then the Praetor's eyes fall on Valka and Rodric.

"Bring them to me," he says, and turns to enter the tent.

Rough hands are laid on both of you, and you are strongly encouraged  to enter the tent, with half a dozen guards and the knight you first spoke with. The praetor is sipping a cup of mulled wine, looking extremely impatient. Without looking at the two of you he says, "I trust you have good reason for trespassing on my hospitality, breaking the courtesy expected of a guest, waking me from my sleep, and making my knights look like fools?" He glances at the knight you spoke with, who lowers his eyes in shame.

[Geoffrey]

Rodric felt a little bad that it was likely the Praetor's guards would be punished, but thanks to Valka, he had accomplished what he set out to do, gain an audience with the Praetor.  Regardless of how it went from here, he owed her a debt of gratitude.

"I was looking for an audience with yourself."