Fantasy Journey of Two Bows (w/ Dragonborn1)

[Thanny]

Within the grotto known throughout many a land resided a den of kobolds. These scaly creatures, diminutive in size and keen of mind, are told in dinner-table tales and tavern cajoles for running away at the slightest provocation, but these ones were built of a different stock: they were known for music.

They had one person to thank for the peace it had brought them: a famous bard that caught the local countries by storm, and an honorary patron of the small yet growing clan of kobolds. Fifty-plus heads lived under the same roof, their land and lives protected by local authorities. They never had to worry for much, merchants and farmers selling stock to the draconic humanoids, and they gave the bard great thanks and honour for his contributions.

The bard in question, Hagnar, was a master of his work and lorded over his status outside and inside the den. Others have ventured to see him and play to gain his recognition. Some of the kobolds inside have taken up music as well, playing under the stars or deep underground to try and become more like their idol. While there has been the odd complaint, Hagnar was quick to silence the accusers or make an example out of them. Yes, Hagnar had the life, and he had grown fatter over the years from taking the best of every meal, though fatter still was his ego.

Not knowledgeable of anything but his mastery of song, a kobold dressed in human-made finery approached the den, her pink scales glistening in the mid-morning sun as she strode up to the entrance. A hat and cape flowed in the morning breeze. At her hip lay a short blade sheathed in leather, and on her back was a cased instrument. The kobold guards, armed with spears that fell out of common use, looked at her skeptically. They were not used to this strange attire for a kobold, as would anybody.

"What's your business here?" one yipped, stamping his spear onto the ground impatiently.

"I want to meet Hagnar," the female kobold remarked, a genuine smile shining forth from her charismatic mouth. "Is he in?"

"Hah! Is he in? He never leaves," yapped the other, cackling at his own words and grinning. "You're in luck. He's not yet played his morning ballad, if you're wanting to learn. Have a name?"

"Peanut," she replied, taking off her hat, closing her blue eyes, and displaying a bow. "Peanut Buterre."

"A very hyuman name," the other replied, hissing in disgruntlement. "Still, a name's a name." He looked backward and caught sight of a passer-by within the cave, his eyes adapted enough to see in the sun and in the dark from the entrance. "Scout! I've a job for you. You need to bring this kin to Hagnar quick quick. It's another aspur . . . aspine . . . whatever you call a follower. Quick quick!"

Peanut could not see inside the dark herself, her eyes too used to the sun, but she flashed a thankful smile to the two guards and slipped inside in a jog, her case banging against her back. And so the two would meet.

 

[Dragonborn1]

Within the grotto known throughout many a land resided a den of kobolds. These scaly creatures, diminutive in size and keen of mind, are told in dinner-table tales and tavern cajoles for running away at the slightest provocation, but these ones were built of a different stock: they were known for music.

They had one person to thank for the peace it had brought them: a famous bard that caught the local countries by storm, and an honorary patron of the small yet growing clan of kobolds. Fifty-plus heads lived under the same roof, their land and lives protected by local authorities. They never had to worry for much, merchants and farmers selling stock to the draconic humanoids, and they gave the bard great thanks and honour for his contributions.

The bard in question, Hagnar, was a master of his work and lorded over his status outside and inside the den. Others have ventured to see him and play to gain his recognition. Some of the kobolds inside have taken up music as well, playing under the stars or deep underground to try and become more like their idol. While there has been the odd complaint, Hagnar was quick to silence the accusers or make an example out of them. Yes, Hagnar had the life, and he had grown fatter over the years from taking the best of every meal, though fatter still was his ego.

Not knowledgeable of anything but his mastery of song, a kobold dressed in human-made finery approached the den, her pink scales glistening in the mid-morning sun as she strode up to the entrance. A hat and cape flowed in the morning breeze. At her hip lay a short blade sheathed in leather, and on her back was a cased instrument. The kobold guards, armed with spears that fell out of common use, looked at her skeptically. They were not used to this strange attire for a kobold, as would anybody.

"What's your business here?" one yipped, stamping his spear onto the ground impatiently.

"I want to meet Hagnar," the female kobold remarked, a genuine smile shining forth from her charismatic mouth. "Is he in?"

"Hah! Is he in? He never leaves," yapped the other, cackling at his own words and grinning. "You're in luck. He's not yet played his morning ballad, if you're wanting to learn. Have a name?"

"Peanut," she replied, taking off her hat, closing her blue eyes, and displaying a bow. "Peanut Buterre."

"A very hyuman name," the other replied, hissing in disgruntlement. "Still, a name's a name." He looked backward and caught sight of a passer-by within the cave, his eyes adapted enough to see in the sun and in the dark from the entrance. "Scout! I've a job for you. You need to bring this kin to Hagnar quick quick. It's another aspur . . . aspine . . . whatever you call a follower. Quick quick!"

Peanut could not see inside the dark herself, her eyes too used to the sun, but she flashed a thankful smile to the two guards and slipped inside in a jog, her case banging against her back. And so the two would meet.

Scout scampered along long tunnels dug by the kobolds. The glow of torches illuminated the entire way, leading to an opening filled with many of his kind. Just like a busy city street Scout has to weave and dodge the passerby’s, earning many new rude nicknames.

Scampering further to sounds of song, Scout rolled his eyes. Everywhere and everyone within the den wanted to replicate the famous kobold bard, in his own mind he wanted to stand out. That might never happen, which Scout came to peace with…
The kobolds ears perked at his name. Through the blinding morning light the silhouette of a new arrival met him. Shyly waving to the newcomer, his ears dipped when the guard yelled. All he did was nod.
”Follow Scout..”

He said motioning for the new kobold to follow. Scout could be observed to be slightly hunchy than other kobolds.

 

[Thanny]

Peanut squinted in the darkness, grateful for it. The sun had beaten on her head and eyes for so long that the cloaking darkness and torchlight was welcome to her. The one the kobold guard called Scout waved at her, and she happily waved back with a well-brushed smile, but felt slightly sorry for him. After all, weren't they kin, the guard and Scout? Perhaps they were not.

"Thanks a bunch!" she commented to the guards, nearly tipping over as she turned back to wave her hat at them.

Walking in tandem with the guide, she looked about and felt eyes upon her. It felt odd to receive such from her own kind, but so used to it from all kinds of races was she that she put it out of her mind. This was quickened because she had someone to talk to.

"Scout, was it? Thanks for taking me. I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous to meet a master bard. Please tell me . . . what's he like? Does he favour any songs?"

She was quite swift of the common tongue, Peanut, and starved as she was of persons on the road was fond of talking at the moment.

 

[Dragonborn1]

Peanut squinted in the darkness, grateful for it. The sun had beaten on her head and eyes for so long that the cloaking darkness and torchlight was welcome to her. The one the kobold guard called Scout waved at her, and she happily waved back with a well-brushed smile, but felt slightly sorry for him. After all, weren't they kin, the guard and Scout? Perhaps they were not.

"Thanks a bunch!" she commented to the guards, nearly tipping over as she turned back to wave her hat at them.

Walking in tandem with the guide, she looked about and felt eyes upon her. It felt odd to receive such from her own kind, but so used to it from all kinds of races was she that she put it out of her mind. This was quickened because she had someone to talk to.

"Scout, was it? Thanks for taking me. I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous to meet a master bard. Please tell me . . . what's he like? Does he favour any songs?"

She was quite swift of the common tongue, Peanut, and starved as she was of persons on the road was fond of talking at the moment.

Scout walked with a quickened pace, when coming to intersections he paused then zipped in a direction. Scout turned his head slightly to anknowledge the guest.

“Scout doesn’t like him,makes Scout jealous.”

He stated.
Scout sniffed the air for a moment in the middle of one of the passageways. He knew the smell well…
He motioned for the guest to follow where they reached a door, the smell of drinks was more like an odor than something that smelled good…

Scout gestured for the newcomer to knock as he backed away from the door like he didn’t want to be seen.

 

[Thanny]

Flashing her eyes over to her companion in confusion, Peanut nodded and moved on. The bard perhaps was not as celebrated as she thought, a funny thing considering he was a fellow kobold, and when she reached the door outside her destination she watched him back away. Was there bad blood between the two of them? Perhaps she would never find out, as she was not one to ask a stranger this.

Tentatively, she reached out to the door and rapped at its rough surface. The resounding knock was lighter than on more civilised doors, but the cave magnified it enough to be heard by all in the vicinity.

"You may enter," replied a crackly voice which Scout would recognise as Hagnar.

Giving one last smile to Scout as she removed the case from her back and held it tight in her delicate hands, she opened the door, slipped inside the crack made, and closed it shut.

Should Scout remain close by, he would hear the following:

"And who might you be, pink one?"
"Peanut Buterre, aspirant bard and traveler. A pleasure to meet you, Master Hagnar."
"Likewise. Are you here to hear the beauty of my morning ballad or to play and receive my blessing?"
"To do both, Master Hagnar. I have brought my instrument and desire to hear your input and perhaps your recognition."
"Many have tried, but with an instrument as large as that you have my attention. Let's see what you can do."

((Splitting the post in half to see what Scout would do prior to continuing. It can be communicated later.))

 

[Dragonborn1]

Flashing her eyes over to her companion in confusion, Peanut nodded and moved on. The bard perhaps was not as celebrated as she thought, a funny thing considering he was a fellow kobold, and when she reached the door outside her destination she watched him back away. Was there bad blood between the two of them? Perhaps she would never find out, as she was not one to ask a stranger this.

Tentatively, she reached out to the door and rapped at its rough surface. The resounding knock was lighter than on more civilised doors, but the cave magnified it enough to be heard by all in the vicinity.

"You may enter," replied a crackly voice which Scout would recognise as Hagnar.

Giving one last smile to Scout as she removed the case from her back and held it tight in her delicate hands, she opened the door, slipped inside the crack made, and closed it shut.

Should Scout remain close by, he would hear the following:

"And who might you be, pink one?"
"Peanut Buterre, aspirant bard and traveler. A pleasure to meet you, Master Hagnar."
"Likewise. Are you here to hear the beauty of my morning ballad or to play and receive my blessing?"
"To do both, Master Hagnar. I have brought my instrument and desire to hear your input and perhaps your recognition."
"Many have tried, but with an instrument as large as that you have my attention. Let's see what you can do."

((Splitting the post in half to see what Scout would do prior to continuing. It can be communicated later.))

As she entered the door and when she glanced back to her guide, Scout was fidgeting with his hands. The door shutting left a patch of shade over Scout‘s body. Scout was ready to leave, the curiousity overpowered his senses he had to be stealthy to not get caught..
He pressed his ear against the door the kobold readied for the upcoming tears of being rejected, it was a common sound and he knew Hagnar was hard to please.


When the newcomer began to play he wondered what Hagnar was thinking. Hangar’s expressions were easily readable with his disgust being the most obvious one he uses..

 

[Thanny]

Beyond the door, undone straps and clamps could be heard as the case was gingerly opened by Peanut's tiny hands. A soft patter of something falling could be heard before she grunted, probably getting the large instrument upright. Setup was simple enough for the pink kobold, the instrument already tuned and having seen considerable use, and within half a minute the first of many notes echoed through the audience chamber.

The melody of her song began soft, slow, and melancholy at the start, the stringed instrument pitched well enough to compensate. Then she began to sing two measures in, her voice swelling with hope with each stanza.

Under a great hearth's brought match and tinder,
Popping red embers setting forth their flame,
And close upon oak wood burned into fine cinder,
Regeneration for new oak lives again.

Renewed, young saplings plough through mud and soil
Efforts not celebrated till first fruits fall,
And when large and weary those trees are too foiled
They give rise to young ones and good for all.

But to turn back the tides of time spent on grey earth!
Life yearns for that which is not easy gained.
But fire cleanses and fire gives birth
If life is turned ashen, more are sustained.

Peanut's voice stopped, but the strings still reverberated for one more measure, ending on a full note. There was silence, then humming and the drumming of fingers against wood.

"A powerful song, but the words and your voice hold it back. They are not worthy of my recognition, but given two years they may be. Come back in two years time, or reside here for a time as you show more promise than most and are kin, so that you may learn how to better commune through song."

Peanut did not immediately respond, but the shuffles on the other side denoted that she was putting her instrument back into her case. Then, softly, she spoke up, "Very well. I will possibly return. Thank you, Master Hagnar."

With everything gathered, she padded her way to the door and slipped through, though her face was certainly dejected, even pale. She sighed after the latch was reapplied, then slumped forward with her head and a hand against the wall. That was not how she expected it to go.

 

[Dragonborn1]

Beyond the door, undone straps and clamps could be heard as the case was gingerly opened by Peanut's tiny hands. A soft patter of something falling could be heard before she grunted, probably getting the large instrument upright. Setup was simple enough for the pink kobold, the instrument already tuned and having seen considerable use, and within half a minute the first of many notes echoed through the audience chamber.

The melody of her song began soft, slow, and melancholy at the start, the stringed instrument pitched well enough to compensate. Then she began to sing two measures in, her voice swelling with hope with each stanza.

Under a great hearth's brought match and tinder,
Popping red embers setting forth their flame,
And close upon oak wood burned into fine cinder,
Regeneration for new oak lives again.

Renewed, young saplings plough through mud and soil
Efforts not celebrated till first fruits fall,
And when large and weary those trees are too foiled
They give rise to young ones and good for all.

But to turn back the tides of time spent on grey earth!
Life yearns for that which is not easy gained.
But fire cleanses and fire gives birth
If life is turned ashen, more are sustained.

Peanut's voice stopped, but the strings still reverberated for one more measure, ending on a full note. There was silence, then humming and the drumming of fingers against wood.

"A powerful song, but the words and your voice hold it back. They are not worthy of my recognition, but given two years they may be. Come back in two years time, or reside here for a time as you show more promise than most and are kin, so that you may learn how to better commune through song."

Peanut did not immediately respond, but the shuffles on the other side denoted that she was putting her instrument back into her case. Then, softly, she spoke up, "Very well. I will possibly return. Thank you, Master Hagnar."

With everything gathered, she padded her way to the door and slipped through, though her face was certainly dejected, even pale. She sighed after the latch was reapplied, then slumped forward with her head and a hand against the wall. That was not how she expected it to go.

Scout walked out of view knowing the new kobold was about to walk out. Seeing her slump against the wall in defeat forced Scout to kneel down and sit beside her. His hands were still fidgety.
”Scout heard, Scout thinks you did well. Don’t listen to that bully he rejects just about everyone..”
While he spoke his head faced forward. He did this because her sadness would effect him too. Scout wouldn’t dare stand up to Hagnar.

Clicking of the door turned his attention to finally look towards the female kobold. Locks were manipulated until the final click the door opened, moved elegantly and with gentleness. The door not dared to squeak either.
Hagnar strutted out in his usual outfit when going to preform.
Scout slinked behind the female not wanting to be seen. This was in a false sense of security and the celebrity glanced his way, Scout froze waiting for the insults that were commonly thrown towards him.

 

[Thanny]

Peanut turned to the guide and weakly smiled in thanks. His directive given by the front guard had already been completed, but he stayed around. For this she was grateful, having lost direction inside of these caverns, though the kind words did help to inspire hope anew.

The click of the door made her drop her expression, and before she could react the guide slipped behind her in an attempt to hide. Confused, she froze stuck to the wall, still holding her instrument case and looking over to Hagnar as he exited to perform with his lute.

Hagnar gazed over to the both of them, pausing in stride, and smiled grimly with two rows of flashy white teeth. His performing tunic and matching trousers -- forest-green, gold-hemmed, and custom-fit -- stood sharply out in the torchlight from the contrasting sandstone walls. Of his rings he did not have all, if Scout took count, but his bejeweled tail bangle flagrantly shimmered in the low light as he waved his tail about.

"You are still here, eh?" he spoke, voice kind but the undertones not. Bards could tell, or at least Peanut could tell. "There is still chance yet for you to listen to my music and receive some pointers."

Peanut took a bow and replied, "I am grateful, and may stay a while to listen. Any help will be of great assistance so that I too may receive a status as a master bard."

"Splendid." The words felt punctuated, and Peanut could not get a read of why. Hagnar next turned his attention to the kobold behind her, craning his neck to view him. "Scout, you oaf, what are you doing, cowering behind there? Get up and do something more proper like chopping potatoes or gathering firewood, then you can take a rest . . . or if you're feeling extra vigorous you can practice your instrument too."

The kobold cackled at his own joke and slipped off to where he was about to perform, but Peanut drilled holes in the back of his head with an irritated glare. When he was safely out of earshot and parting the throng of moving bodies, she dropped the case in her hand harmlessly to the ground and turned on a heel to Scout.

"Now it all seems clearer. The guy is a big, dumb jerk!" she muttered to Scout. "Don't let his barbs hurt you. It was kind that you stayed. I don't even want to be recognised by him anymore." She let off a sigh, shoving her feathered musketeer hat backward and allowing a better view of her shut eyes. "Oh well. Plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. There's other master bards out there."

 

[Dragonborn1]

Peanut turned to the guide and weakly smiled in thanks. His directive given by the front guard had already been completed, but he stayed around. For this she was grateful, having lost direction inside of these caverns, though the kind words did help to inspire hope anew.

The click of the door made her drop her expression, and before she could react the guide slipped behind her in an attempt to hide. Confused, she froze stuck to the wall, still holding her instrument case and looking over to Hagnar as he exited to perform with his lute.

Hagnar gazed over to the both of them, pausing in stride, and smiled grimly with two rows of flashy white teeth. His performing tunic and matching trousers -- forest-green, gold-hemmed, and custom-fit -- stood sharply out in the torchlight from the contrasting sandstone walls. Of his rings he did not have all, if Scout took count, but his bejeweled tail bangle flagrantly shimmered in the low light as he waved his tail about.

"You are still here, eh?" he spoke, voice kind but the undertones not. Bards could tell, or at least Peanut could tell. "There is still chance yet for you to listen to my music and receive some pointers."

Peanut took a bow and replied, "I am grateful, and may stay a while to listen. Any help will be of great assistance so that I too may receive a status as a master bard."

"Splendid." The words felt punctuated, and Peanut could not get a read of why. Hagnar next turned his attention to the kobold behind her, craning his neck to view him. "Scout, you oaf, what are you doing, cowering behind there? Get up and do something more proper like chopping potatoes or gathering firewood, then you can take a rest . . . or if you're feeling extra vigorous you can practice your instrument too."

The kobold cackled at his own joke and slipped off to where he was about to perform, but Peanut drilled holes in the back of his head with an irritated glare. When he was safely out of earshot and parting the throng of moving bodies, she dropped the case in her hand harmlessly to the ground and turned on a heel to Scout.

"Now it all seems clearer. The guy is a big, dumb jerk!" she muttered to Scout. "Don't let his barbs hurt you. It was kind that you stayed. I don't even want to be recognised by him anymore." She let off a sigh, shoving her feathered musketeer hat backward and allowing a better view of her shut eyes. "Oh well. Plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. There's other master bards out there."

Scout bowed his head at Hagnar’s hurtful words. A fire burned in his eyes if he could just attack him he would, the guards and other kobolds wouldn’t be happy. He didn’t want to ruin his reputation further. Once the bombardment of insults was over and Hagnar walked off in that over confident stride, Scout growled softly with teeth showing.

With the pink kobold finally realizing what Hagnar’s true nature was he shook his head with enthusiasm. At last someone agreed with him!
”Scout is glad you see through his lies. Scout is patronized by him because Scout can’t play well or sing well either.”

Scout looked back down the passage recognizing the cheers and words of encouragement.
“Scout must go now. You can go watch his performance, or not, it’s up to you. Scout is heading back to his own home.”

The kobold got to his feet and scampered off down the passage,only going in the opposite direction than Hagnar did.

 

[Thanny]

Peanut scratched at the back of her scaly neck, a very human reaction. She did not think much of seeing past Hagnar's facade, but perhaps her years of roaming, singing, and sightseeing helped in regard to meeting many people and judging fact from fiction and hearsay. Even still, the kid was a musician. If he wanted to, he could leave and make a living off of his own skills like the master bard did. What keeps him here? Friends, family? She felt sorry for Scout . . . but it was not her place to cause too many waves. If she caused issue with her own kind, it would jeopardise her whole slew of reasons for venturing here.

Ears slipping backward in her hat with sorrow, she allowed Scout to run off and took out a folded map from her pocket. Staring down at its contents for a moment, she pondered her options for the journey ahead. The nearest town with a master bard was two days away by foot. Should she set up camp outside, she can grab a hot bite to eat, get a respite, and be refreshed for the morning journey, but for now music sounded grand, even if it was performed by a meanie.

With sword on her side and instrument at her back, she made her way to the concert hall, kicked back, and closed her eyes, tipping her hat over them. Music notes washed over her like a spring breeze, then clung to her like burs. Note by note, play by play, she listened to Hagnar's elegant, masterful strumming and tried her best to commit it to memory. To transcribe it for a viola was only a momentary goal. To be a master bard's equal, though . . . that was a fanciful dream she hoped to accomplish even more. Someday. Someday. . . .

 

[Dragonborn1]

Peanut scratched at the back of her scaly neck, a very human reaction. She did not think much of seeing past Hagnar's facade, but perhaps her years of roaming, singing, and sightseeing helped in regard to meeting many people and judging fact from fiction and hearsay. Even still, the kid was a musician. If he wanted to, he could leave and make a living off of his own skills like the master bard did. What keeps him here? Friends, family? She felt sorry for Scout . . . but it was not her place to cause too many waves. If she caused issue with her own kind, it would jeopardise her whole slew of reasons for venturing here.

Ears slipping backward in her hat with sorrow, she allowed Scout to run off and took out a folded map from her pocket. Staring down at its contents for a moment, she pondered her options for the journey ahead. The nearest town with a master bard was two days away by foot. Should she set up camp outside, she can grab a hot bite to eat, get a respite, and be refreshed for the morning journey, but for now music sounded grand, even if it was performed by a meanie.

With sword on her side and instrument at her back, she made her way to the concert hall, kicked back, and closed her eyes, tipping her hat over them. Music notes washed over her like a spring breeze, then clung to her like burs. Note by note, play by play, she listened to Hagnar's elegant, masterful strumming and tried her best to commit it to memory. To transcribe it for a violin was only a momentary goal. To be a master bard's equal, though . . . that was a fanciful dream she hoped to accomplish even more. Someday. Someday. . . .

Scout fast walked back to his den with no kobold to bother him the passage ways often filled with traffic and is now empty. He figured every creature came to listen to his music.
The fimilarity of the area he approached made him feel more at ease.
Pushing past a tattered curtain his den was a confined space like a jail cell. Objects were scattered in a messy minefield stacked in a way Scout thought was best. On the wall slumped up alone is his instrument. The violin is his most fond possession he picked it up but the wood was scratched, dirty, and covered in bindings. He couldn’t see his reflection in the wood like how Hagnar could. The binding holding the thing together was from Hagnar who wanted to eliminate competition.

He plucked a string, it makes a sad ringing with it wiggling loosely.
Stupid Hagnar, stupid kobolds, stupid everything! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He needed to do something. Something to knock Hagnar down a peg or two, but what? Well, Hagnar sings about adventure, maybe he could go on one of his own? Maybe…the thought was now embedded in his mind.

Hearing the pitter patter of claws coming closer he set down the violin and laid on his bed. He faced the wall in case they came in…

 

[Thanny]

It was the perfect time. With the majority of people on the far side of the caves attending Hagnar's morning song, the hallways were left vacant with the exception of a select few. Among those select few were two mischievous young kobolds who decided to strike off and do something else. That something else? Mess with people's stuff.

The first kobold, one by the name of Fuum, softly fumbled about with the latch to Scout's door, having not brought a torch and solely relying on his darkvision, until he found how to best undo the door and stuck his nose in, peeping about. Tallow candles and maybe a torch lit the inside of the room, inspiring a grin from its muzzle. This place was a dump. It would make messing with people's stuff even more fun and less traceable to them.

The second kobold, Crawk, burbled something about wanting food in Yipyak, to which Fuum smacked the other's shoulder. A tiny whimper sounded out, but that was it. Kobolds were hardy creatures.

"Pipe down!" Fuum commanded through the quietest hiss. "This is better than food. Come on!"

Together they padded their way into the room, slippery as eels. Crawk left the door slightly ajar for a quick escape, and Fuum migrated to the middle of the room, admiring the ramshackle appearance of it. Then, he froze. There on the bed was a kobold asleep. He paused to see if it would react. If not, they could continue their antics.

 

[Dragonborn1]

It was the perfect time. With the majority of people on the far side of the caves attending Hagnar's morning song, the hallways were left vacant with the exception of a select few. Among those select few were two mischievous young kobolds who decided to strike off and do something else. That something else? Mess with people's stuff.

The first kobold, one by the name of Fuum, softly fumbled about with the latch to Scout's door, having not brought a torch and solely relying on his darkvision, until he found how to best undo the door and stuck his nose in, peeping about. Tallow candles and maybe a torch lit the inside of the room, inspiring a grin from its muzzle. This place was a dump. It would make messing with people's stuff even more fun and less traceable to them.

The second kobold, Crawk, burbled something about wanting food in Yipyak, to which Fuum smacked the other's shoulder. A tiny whimper sounded out, but that was it. Kobolds were hardy creatures.

"Pipe down!" Fuum commanded through the quietest hiss. "This is better than food. Come on!"

Together they padded their way into the room, slippery as eels. Crawk left the door slightly ajar for a quick escape, and Fuum migrated to the middle of the room, admiring the ramshackle appearance of it. Then, he froze. There on the bed was a kobold asleep. He paused to see if it would react. If not, they could continue their antics.

Upon hearing who it was Scout knew this wasn’t gonna be good.
The two kobolds were infamous with their antics, some of which the guards were involved. Scout silently prayed they would leave.
Scout as still facing the wall unmoving with short breaths like he was asleep.

Once he heard the sounds of sad plucks of strings, he knew what they were messing with. He built up the courage, and when they weren’t looking, pounced. A fast, but weak punch was sent towards Fuum, now raising his fists and tried not to show any fear.
”Scout wants you to leave! Scout will call the guards.”

He threatened.

 

[Thanny]

No movement. That was good. Fuum opened his mouth in a toothy grin as he tiptoed across articles of clothing and miscellaneous objects, scouting all the while. Then he saw an instrument. It had seen better days, for true, but it still had working strings. Fuum picked it up by the neck as he once saw Hagnar do and plucked carefully at the lower strings, then another and another. Each thrum inspired new confidence, and turning he showed off this new treasure to Crawk, thinking about taking it outside for trying out the instrument.

They did not get too far when the "sleeping" body sprang up and sent a rapid punch into Fuum's jaw. Startled, he loosened his grip on the instrument, causing it to accidentally clatter to the floor noisily. Crawk edging to the door as Scout warned them, and Fuum brought a hand to the ache on his jaw. His other hand went up in defense, fingers spread.

"Okay, okay! Just no hurt! We go, see?" They both went to the door, Crawk fleeing into the gloom on the other side entirely, while Fuum paused just a little while longer in the doorway with a wicked expression. "But payback will come, Scout. You'll be sorry!"

 

[Dragonborn1]

No movement. That was good. Fuum opened his mouth in a toothy grin as he tiptoed across articles of clothing and miscellaneous objects, scouting all the while. Then he saw an instrument. It had seen better days, for true, but it still had working strings. Fuum picked it up by the neck as he once saw Hagnar do and plucked carefully at the lower strings, then another and another. Each thrum inspired new confidence, and turning he showed off this new treasure to Crawk, thinking about taking it outside for trying out the instrument.

They did not get too far when the "sleeping" body sprang up and sent a rapid punch into Fuum's jaw. Startled, he loosened his grip on the instrument, causing it to accidentally clatter to the floor noisily. Crawk edging to the door as Scout warned them, and Fuum brought a hand to the ache on his jaw. His other hand went up in defense, fingers spread.

"Okay, okay! Just no hurt! We go, see?" They both went to the door, Crawk fleeing into the gloom on the other side entirely, while Fuum paused just a little while longer in the doorway with a wicked expression. "But payback will come, Scout. You'll be sorry!"

Scout took Fuum’s warning with his head bowing and turning back to his instrument. The kobolds hand stung from the impact on a hard surface the same hand was used to pick up his prized possession.
The fall did chip the already distressed wood, Scout hugged his insturment lovingly hating how there was even more damage done.
Like he said, everything was stupid. Why did he even stay here?


Scout caused his bed to sqeak, resting onto the edge. To calm himself down he started plucking the strings creating sweet vibrations echoing.

 

[Thanny]

The musical performance started and ended with the same potency as the bard took three requests from the audience, none of them truly challenging but all lovingly strummed from a banjo and violin. Peanut kicked back deep in thought when the banjo was played and leaned forward watching in interest as the violin was taken up. Hagnar may have been despicable to Scout, but she did admit that he had a knack for music.

Hagnar stole quite a few glances in her direction while bowing due to her status, earning her some discomfort. While it may have been from a manner of tutelage, she found it unctuous and readied to pack up and leave when she noticed some commotion outside the room.

The entrance was visible from her position, and it seemed two young kobolds were discussing something with the guards there, whimpering and yipping. One of the young ones clutched his cheek while the other clutched his side. All four slipped off, leaving the cave unguarded, but she suspected nothing and thought little of it, preparing her case for a journey into the woods.

-- -- -- -- --

A hard rap at Scout's door would sound out before the two guards would step inside wearing grave expressions. Behind them and sneering were the two who had moments ago invaded the room, this time with backup.

"Scout, you're to come with us," sighed the first one, plopping down his spear. "What you did is not good. It has to be reported, quick quick."

"Yes," replied the other, shaking his head. "The two boys here are beat up, saying you did it. Well? What you say?"

 

[Dragonborn1]

The musical performance started and ended with the same potency as the bard took three requests from the audience, none of them truly challenging but all lovingly strummed from a banjo and violin. Peanut kicked back deep in thought when the banjo was played and leaned forward watching in interest as the violin was taken up. Hagnar may have been despicable to Scout, but she did admit that he had a knack for music.

Hagnar stole quite a few glances in her direction while bowing due to her status, earning her some discomfort. While it may have been from a manner of tutelage, she found it unctuous and readied to pack up and leave when she noticed some commotion outside the room.

The entrance was visible from her position, and it seemed two young kobolds were discussing something with the guards there, whimpering and yipping. One of the young ones clutched his cheek while the other clutched his side. All four slipped off, leaving the cave unguarded, but she suspected nothing and thought little of it, preparing her case for a journey into the woods.

-- -- -- -- --

A hard rap at Scout's door would sound out before the two guards would step inside wearing grave expressions. Behind them and sneering were the two who had moments ago invaded the room, this time with backup.

"Scout, you're to come with us," sighed the first one, plopping down his spear. "What you did is not good. It has to be reported, quick quick."

"Yes," replied the other, shaking his head. "The two boys here are beat up, saying you did it. Well? What you say?"

Scout’s ears perked, then they dipped seeing the armored guards armed and looking angry. He stared at the pointy spear then back at the guard.
“Scout was provoked by those two.“
He pointed at the two troublemakers.

”Scout witnessed them break into Scout’s den, so Scout defended himself and Scout’s possessions…”

 

[Thanny]

"Provoked?" asked the guard with a spear, tilting his scaly head.

"Means they caused the situation, Skitch," voiced the other, levelling his eyes on Scout. "Thing is, that's against the rules. Scout should have told us first if so instead of attacking them. Instead, they came up to us, says you flew at them with punchy fists. Now come. The elders will know what to do. Probably exile."

The juveniles behind looked at each other behind the guards' backs smugly, perhaps even mischievously, before lowering their expressions and playing sobs and whimpers.

With this, Scout would be sent off to be reviewed by the elders, among them the famed Hagnar, unless he had something else to say . . . or do, like somehow escape.

 

[Dragonborn1]

"Provoked?" asked the guard with a spear, tilting his scaly head.

"Means they caused the situation, Skitch," voiced the other, levelling his eyes on Scout. "Thing is, that's against the rules. Scout should have told us first if so instead of attacking them. Instead, they came up to us, says you flew at them with punchy fists. Now come. The elders will know what to do. Probably exile."

The juveniles behind looked at each other behind the guards' backs smugly, pergaps even mischievously, before lowering their expressions and playing sobs and whimpers.

With this, Scout would be sent off to be reviewed by the elders, among them the famed Hagnar, unless he had something else to say . . . or do, like somehow escape.

Exile?!
No, no, no, he can’t be exiled! This is all he has…
Scout’s ears drooped, staring at the two drama queens with a piercing glare. As the guards approached Scout, he backtracked until running into the wall. His back felt the cold sensation of rock. Now cornered, Scout pressed his body against the wall still not wanting to leave.
”It’s their fault! Scout is telling the truth!”

He pleaded his case, none listened. Before he was hauled away Scout managed to take his old violin with him. If he was gonna be thrown out it’s best to have it with him…


Escorted embarrassingly through the passageways all kobolds could see the poor kobold known as Scout be marched towards his fate.
Scout clutched the violin within his claws like a mother protecting their baby.
There it was, the main room where criminals were judged and sent off. Scout felt like he was in the spot like for all to see. Waiting for Hagnar to arrive seemed like forever…

 

[Thanny]

Within the main room, some of the area was cordoned off in the simplest of manners: rope and fastenings draped across the uneven cave floor in a messy semicircle around a set of four chairs. Three elders appeared in quiet succession of each other, pensively looking up at the kobold who like them waited, clutching his violin. Scout seemed uneasy, as could be understood. Many eyes were on him, and while this occurrence was common enough rumours were bound to spread. Of course, rumour was the least of his worries when it came to the threat of exile.

While they did not exactly state a time, Hagnar appeared far later than they did, his face in a scowl that refused to leave. Each of the elders nodded toward him, and he them, before he seated himself and leaned forward.

Scout was brought to the front, where the guards told their account of what had happened. Kids come into room, Scout attacked the kids in defense of himself and his items, and kids got to the guards. The elders looked serious, one of them being the grandmother of Fuum. With this information, it was perhaps easily evident that this would not go well.

"I know of Fuum and Crawk's natures," spoke one elder with a wheeze, a strong-jawed, pallid kobold who was the oldest and the notetaker of the group, "but I also know of your antics, young Scout. I have a list of grievances against you thrice as long as most here your age, but striking here unwarranted? Mm-mm, no. Not good. Nevertheless, I would like to hear your account, and would like to hear why you are here with that instrument."

"I would like to know as well," thrummed Hagnar, looking indignantly at the decrepit violin. Of course, some of its impairment was his doing, but he would never voice it. "An attack against me, eh?"

"It is clear the instrument is important to him," said the grandmotherly kobold, rising from her chair to look at the youth. "And he will speak when he is ready. The floor is yours, young Scout."

 

[Dragonborn1]

Within the main room, some of the area was cordoned off in the simplest of manners: rope and fastenings draped across the uneven cave floor in a messy semicircle around a set of four chairs. Three elders appeared in quiet succession of each other, pensively looking up at the kobold who like them waited, clutching his violin. Scout seemed uneasy, as could be understood. Many eyes were on him, and while this occurrence was common enough rumours were bound to spread. Of course, rumour was the least of his worries when it came to the threat of exile.

While they did not exactly state a time, Hagnar appeared far later than they did, his face in a scowl that refused to leave. Each of the elders nodded toward him, and he them, before he seated himself and leaned forward.

Scout was brought to the front, where the guards told their account of what had happened. Kids come into room, Scout attacked the kids in defense of himself and his items, and kids got to the guards. The elders looked serious, one of them being the grandmother of Fuum. With this information, it was perhaps easily evident that this would not go well.

"I know of Fuum and Crawk's natures," spoke one elder with a wheeze, a strong-jawed, pallid kobold who was the oldest and the notetaker of the group, "but I also know of your antics, young Scout. I have a list of grievances against you thrice as long as most here your age, but striking here unwarranted? Mm-mm, no. Not good. Nevertheless, I would like to hear your account, and would like to hear why you are here with that instrument."

"I would like to know as well," thrummed Hagnar, looking indignantly at the decrepit violin. Of course, some of its impairment was his doing, but he would never voice it. "An attack against me, eh?"

"It is clear the instrument is important to him," said the grandmotherly kobold, rising from her chair to look at the youth. "And he will speak when he is ready. The floor is yours, young Scout."

The kobold stared up with his claws on top of one another. He listened to the back and forth conversation. Then it was his turn, all eyes were pointed onto him the spotlight shined brighter upon him. Whether it was from the imaginary spotlight or all the eyes burning him.

”Scout was attacked first. Yuun and Crawk are troublemakers, Scout has seen them first hand try to steal his instrument”

Scout held up the violin by its neck. Showing off the cracked shell, dirtied wood, and loose strings. While on the topic of his violin, Scout pointed a claw at Hagnar.

”Scout suspects he sent them! Hagnar likes destroying instruments of those kobolds below him. In fact Scout witnessed Hagnar belittle a potential musician. He’s the kobold to blame!”

Scout began marching towards Hagnar’s chair.
”How many lies have you told to manipulate everyone here?!”

Scout says this while he gripped Hagnar’s clothing and stared him dead in the eyes. Scout still had his violin in his other claw.

 

[Thanny]

The growing audience's heads quivered as they traced between the elders and Scout, especially Hagnar who was subjected to such accusations. Hagnar did not seem surprised by this verbal joust. If anything, he welcomed it, feeling that the elders and the audience were on his side. Plucked by his clothes and glared at by this runt of the litter, he turned toward the grandmotherly elder for vindication, allowing her to do the fighting for him.

Grandmother Tuak was furious and bellowed a yap, then coughed. She was old, and such a thing was hard on the throat, even if she found it necessary to quiet the murmurs.

"Let him go! I gave you a chance to free your tongue, but that was a mistake. You damage your status with your words. Mind you that you insult and lay hands on an elder and the source of our protection, and without any proof, no less."

Hagnar smiled wickedly and swatted Scout's hand away, figuring Scout would be forced back by everyone's collective eye.

"What you do have proof of," joined in the pale elder, "is your instrument still being with you, and that is not much. I like most have heard complaints of the boys, but not theft and definitely not fighting." He shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that without proof you are out of order, and must be punished."

"Agreed," came the tired voice of the quiet elder, finally speaking up and raising her eye from the snail shells that decorated her hat. "The question, though, is what kind of punishment?"

"Might I suggest exile?" Hagnar introduced as if it just crossed his mind, walking away from Scout and his chair to wander before the crowd. "When it comes to responsibility, he has fallen short time and again. A time outside in the world would do him good like it did me. Should he come back in a month, well, I'd say he learned an ounce of reliability."

The crowd could not resist his charismatic charm, and slowly the cries built for the option of exile. The seated elders looked on but said nothing in favour of the youth, dooming him to the decision.

"I am sorry," said Grandmother Tuak, shaking her head, "but exile fits. However, instead of a month, I will give a week. It is dangerous out there alone. Prove you are capable and we will let you back inside without holes. So we rule. Take what items you have and leave, young Scout."

 

[Dragonborn1]

The growing audience's heads quivered as they traced between the elders and Scout, especially Hagnar who was subjected to such accusations. Hagnar did not seem surprised by this verbal joust. If anything, he welcomed it, feeling that the elders and the audience were on his side. Plucked by his clothes and glared at by this runt of the litter, he turned toward the grandmotherly elder for vindication, allowing her to do the fighting for him.

Grandmother Tuak was furious and bellowed a yap, then coughed. She was old, and such a thing was hard on the throat, even if she found it necessary to quiet the murmurs.

"Let him go! I gave you a chance to free your tongue, but that was a mistake. You damage your status with your words. Mind you that you insult and lay hands on an elder and the source of our protection, and without any proof, no less."

Hagnar smiled wickedly and swatted Scout's hand away, figuring Scout would be forced back by everyone's collective eye.

"What you do have proof of," joined in the pale elder, "is your instrument still being with you, and that is not much. I like most have heard complaints of the boys, but not theft and definitely not fighting." He shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that without proof you are out of order, and must be punished."

"Agreed," came the tired voice of the quiet elder, finally speaking up and raising her eye from the snail shells that decorated her hat. "The question, though, is what kind of punishment?"

"Might I suggest exile?" Hagnar introduced as if it just crossed his mind, walking away from Scout and his chair to wander before the crowd. "When it comes to responsibility, he has fallen short time and again. A time outside in the world would do him good like it did me. Should he come back in a month, well, I'd say he learned an ounce of reliability."

The crowd could not resist his charismatic charm, and slowly the cries built for the option of exile. The seated elders looked on but said nothing in favour of the youth, dooming him to the decision.

"I am sorry," said Grandmother Tuak, shaking her head, "but exile fits. However, instead of a month, I will give a week. It is dangerous out there alone. Prove you are capable and we will let you back inside without holes. So we rule. Take what items you have and leave, young Scout."

Scout watched Hagnar address the room about his exile. Pfft Hagnar wouldn’t survive a day outside, he doesn’t t he could even fight.
Their minds were made up thanks to Hagnar’s proposal. Scout looked back at the elders then away in embarrassment, there was no way to change their mind.

As Scout left to pack he bumped shoulders on purposely with Hagnar, this led to Hagnar grabbing Scout’s insturment, a tug of war ensued with the two kobolds fighting over it. Unfortunately Scout’s grip wasn’t strong enough and the instrument was forcefully removed from his claws. Hagnar was now possessing it and Scout bets he wouldn’t get it back until he was let back in.


”Scout will be back!”

He declared.

”When Scout is back Scout will be better musician than Hagnar, unlike him Scout will go on a real adventure!”

With that out of his system, Scout left the room in defeat…

 

[Thanny]

Tending to a growing flame in a small firepit, Peanut sat a hundred or so feet from the cave and readied to roast a few foraged materials on her sword. She was lucky. Most of the area had been picked clean of things to eat, but this time of year there were some gooseberries and blueberries available. There were no nuts yet ready, being early summer, and she was not overly fond of gooseberries when raw, so she hoped spitting them with her smallsword and heating them over a smoky fire would bring some life to her palate.

She leaned back against a half-rotted log and toyed with her tail, the rejection still fresh in her mind from not even an hour ago. Looking over to her instrument was bittersweet. She wanted to play a melody, but the sorrow from before remained. Perhaps roaming on her own on this quest of hers was a bad idea after all. She knew her old comrades would still be there for her, but perhaps they had moved on to a different town. If she could Scry them, maybe it would be easy, but she did not find much use of the cracked orb she used for such. Sometimes the orb worked, sometimes it didn't for any number of reasons, too hot, too dry, too wet, too noisy. It was the only one she could come across, and it was frustrating to work with, so she stopped bothering to try it.

When she looked back at her gooseberries, she spat out an "Oh no!" Some of the berries closest to the fire had burst open from the heat and were ruined. She retrieved her sword from the fire and blew on the remainders intensely. There went a delicious bite to eat, but hopefully the rest were salvageable.