2658 Years After Betrayal|
Stepping through the portal to 2658 After Betrayal lands you in a sprawling fairground. Were it not for the overshadowing of the oppressive fortress walls to the left your senses might have been tantalized by the abundance of surrounding activities. Colorful Flags create a rustlings flap on the languid breeze while strains of a gentle ballad compete with a bawdy dancing tune, all against the constant humming background of excited voices. The competing scents of exotic perfume, spices, roasted meat, and dust assault your nose, eliciting a sneeze. Bright tents lay scattered in reckless abandonment upon the trampled grass. All about you the people of Llayentia are interacting.
An explosive argument breaks out nearby drawing your attention to a tall man with long pointed ears wearing, what appears to be, an old fashioned black tux. His face turns crimson with rage as he screams at a nearby woman who has apparently picked up the ring he intended to purchase. The woman gives her long shimmering gown an impatient tug and starts to turn away but is drawn back into the argument by the man's arresting hand on her shoulder. Her slanted eyes change from green to red to black as you watch. Soon the irate words escalate into a fist-fight but when weapons are drawn guards push their way through the growing crowd of spectators and haul the swearing couple away. So intently focused are you upon the retreating combatants that a hand on your shoulder and voice in your ear startles you.
"Hey there stranger. New ta Kyron's World?" He looks you up and down before adding, "Course ye be. Obvious by those outlander clothes. Earthlings I take it? Well let me be the first ta welcome ye ta this ‘ere Freni-Kyn Faire. I'm ‘ere ta show ye about a bit. Make sure none o' tha travelin hucksters takes advantage o' yer naiveté, so ta speak. Now ye nay be a needn' ta cover yer dyroap pouch lyke that. I'll nay be snatch'n yer meager earnin's."
The grizzled man, whose network of scars run rampant across his face, looks anything but helpful. His leather clad body glistens with buckles and brads, arranged in nearly every possible configuration. Surely this man is a warrior… or a punk rock star. What could he possibly be doing giving tours at a Freni-Kyn Faire?
“Ahh I see ye be admirin’ me outfit. Chakru armor, tis. Finest quality leathers in tha lands. An’ wat wit’ all these buckles it custom fits ta tha body in tha best possible way. Got this afore bein’ lured into talkn’ ta tha tourist. He nods his head as though this makes perfect sense and light glints off a ring of purple metal dangling from the tip of strange forward curving ears.
Before you know what has happened he hooks his arm through yours and begins to firmly drag you down the street. “First ye need ta know tha rules o’ ‘ere faire. See tha signs up there? He points upwards towards some pale blue signposts. “There be another set down there.” He points down the street. “Those be ‘ow ye navigate this ‘ere Faire. They be magic. Ye touch one, it turns gold and away ye go. Portals, so ta speak.”
“Next ye be a needn’ ta know all bout Kyron’s Worlde. The information tent be that big one off ta the right. See it? How ken ye miss it? Has a giant banner wit’ a Freni-Kyn dyroap slave on it an’ some warrior, standin’ under tha crossn’ arch.” He looks at you in amazement. Yes thaaat one. Ifn’ ye be wantn’ a bardic tale or two that be tha place ta go. Tis lykwise a good place ta learn tha customs o’ tha tri-lands. Ye don’ wanna be offendn’ somun, specially them there Red Pelicans.” A sudden shudder runs through the man’s body and he draws a finger across his throat. “They been known ta take it personal like.”
Lady Cohn’stonce's Freefall Flags
“Now then, what else might ye be interested in? How about a nice flag? These make decent weapons when used lyke so…and so…” He yanks a flag free of the nearest tent and swings it about like a sword, mimicking stabing someone with the end then bashing them over the head. “See ‘ow tha fabric is distractn? An if ye really want ta see some maim’n all ye ‘ave ta do is…” he looks over your shoulder and ducks his head in obvious embarrassment while his cheeks start turning red.
“What I mean is, these be from tha tent right next ta tha main un’. Lady Cohn’stonce's do be makn’ ‘em. An’ they sure make a mean spin. That be why the Freni-Kyn flagsters only use ‘em fer their fancy shows. An ifn’ ye take a look about ye’ll be noticn’ they be the only flags ‘ere. They be official, lyke. Ifn’ ye get caught wit anything else it will be confiscated by…” His eyes drift over your shoulder again and he lowers his voice, “by people lyke me. Ifn’ ye get my meanun.” His eyes take on a vengeful cast as his mouth stretches into a wicked grin.
For a moment you wonder if now would be a good time to make a break for that big tent off to the right. He shrugs his shoulders, “In any case ye ken be buyn’ ‘em from that there flag woman, Cohn’stonce.”
N&C's Compu-quins and other Mods
He looks about, as though checking to be sure the two of you are alone and leans in conspiratorially, “Now ifn’ yer lookn’ fer tha special woman ye need ta go ta that booth, ryte there.” He points off to the left at a booth which has odd flickering lights shining through the walls. “There be a woman in there whose leathers are sure ta sizzle the ‘air right off yer toes. An them eyes...” he lets out a long sigh of longing. “Now I be knowin’ tis illegal an all but I’d swear tha woman be half Chakru, half Watrelk. Mayhaps even a wee bit o’ H’euman in ‘er as well. Her eyes change color, that be ‘ow I know she do ‘ave some Watrelk.” He nods his head emphatically before continuing, “Preposterous I know but they do, an’ top that kind of beauty wit’ that chakru leather....” He lets out a low whistle. “That be my kynd o’ female. That it be.”
“Tha owners... Oh did I ferget ta tell ye bout them? That’d be merchanteirs N’thahnael and Cristahl... now lyke I be a sayn’, tha owners they say she ken write out a document quick as a lighn’ bolt an’ visit other worlds lyke WOW, Everquest an’ D&D online, all at tha same tyme as she ken talk. Don tha’ beat all? Multi-talented she tis. Name?” He pauses to scratch his head in confusion, “Never thought ta ask. Say she be a compu-quin, maybe tha’ be some new exotic race. Tried ta talk ta ‘er once but she would only talk ta the shop owners.” He lets out a dejected sigh. “Hey ifn’ ye happen ta go there would ye mind given ‘er this fer me?” He presses a simple band of green metal into your hand. “Maybe that’ll catch ‘er ‘tention.”
B'bahrrey's 7 Ragen' Races
an’ other Poisonous Potions
“Well then, listen ta me. Gone all mushy I ‘ave. Wat’s next on tha tour? Hmmm, ‘ow bout a drink? That should make me feel better.” He coughs as though remembering himself, “Err, I mean a drink should soothe yer throats after searchn’ tha shops. ‘Ow about a nice long Chakru Fasthand? I know. tis a wee bit strong fer ye manlings but it sure ‘elps make a man feel like a… oh never mynd. This ‘ere be tha ‘ome o’ B'bahrrey's Seven Rageful Revenges an’ Other Poisonous Potions. That be sign’fyn his special drinks case ye dinnae know.”
Now I ‘ave ta warn ye. There be this crazy woman wants ta change tha name ta something nice an’ flowery. Donnae be a listn’ ta tha lykes o’ ‘er. This be a nice name fer a bar, not sum sissy flowery name. ‘Ear tell she wants ta change tha name ta tha Bashful Brael.” He gives out a huge snort of disdain. “Now that might be a good name fer a drink, donnae get me wrong, but not a tavern. Man ‘as ta ‘ave is pride, don ‘e?” He takes a drink from the dented wood of the bar and tosses it back in one swallow before dropping an ovular shaped silver ring on the softly polished surface. His face turns red a moment as he licks his lips apprectivly. “That Lord B’bahrrey… ‘e sure does know ‘ow ta make a tasty drink.”
Loosening the buckles on one arm he tugs the sleeve up to study a tattoo, "Okay next on tha list be Thyffany's Naughty Titillations." A loud growl comes from behind and the man blanches but before you can swing around to find out what kind of creature is threatening he grabs your arm and yanks you along towards a colorful booth. “Okay, Okay, I’ll tell them tha truth. But ye kennae help it ifn’ I be maken’ up wat tha initials mean. Ken ye now? It be called T.N.T. Dolls. Now wat exactly be a tnt? Some ruffian dun tol me it twas somethin’ wat makes things blow up. Like a magic…I donnae know…something or other. Now why on Kyron’s green Llayentia would ye want ta make a doll blow up? That by my question…unless…why of course…they must be secret weapons. Awfully pretty ta use as a weapon but mayhaps that be tha secret part o’ it all. A perfect assassins tool…”
He seems to have drifted off into some type of evil calculations and you consider trying to make a run for it. Perhaps if you hid behind the nearby tent you could lose him. Alas he suddenly comes back into awareness of his surroundings and begins talking again. “Anyway that be run by tha Merchant Thyffany. Now she be a bonny lass, but ye be watchn’ ‘er temper. Don be gettn’ in ‘er face, she throws a wicked punch. An’ she donnae seem ta lyke Chakru either, or least ways not meself. Donnae knowed why she wouldn’ lyke me. Unless it was because o’ tha tyme I… Anyhow she be makn’ them special dolls o’ tha seven races an’ some folks wat be named Kyra and Tahrek.”
J. Garman's Jeweled Delights
He draws a deep breath. “Okay then next on tha list be tha merchant Lord Garman. This be ‘is booth. Only tha discern’ customers gets in. An’ that leaves me out. So’s I kennae tell ye what be in there. But ifn’ ye get sommut ye come show me. Promise?” He smiles at you. Or is that a threatening grimace? “I ‘ear he’s got magic armor in thar. Wat I wouldnnae give fer magic armor… An’ portals I don’ been tole, ‘e ken give ye a magic portal, one ye ken take wit ye’ wouldn’t that be somethin? Now I’ll be a know’n ifn’ wat ye buy be nay o’ ‘is makn’ too. So it best ‘ave ‘is trademark gem on it…else…”
Lady Kairun's Treasures:
The Art of Kyron’s Worlde
"Next up be tha famous an' amazin' work o' tha mos' fabulous Lady Kairun. Stop lookin' at me lyke that. No she dinnae pay me ta say that. Really! I swear." He looks completely innocent but given the nature of all he's had to say you have your doubts that this man even knows the meaning of innocence.
"In 'er booth ye ken fynd special pretty things ta put on yer louse." He looks over your shoulder, "What's that? Ohhh, oops, I mean in yer house. Sorry. Cups an' pictures an' all that wit 'er special artwork on it. I 'ear tell she even 'as it in good wit tha big daddy. Ye know." He nods his head off at the large tent to your right. "Kyyyron. I 'ear she be makn' special prettsies fer 'is world."
Red Pelican Assassin's Guild
“An’ lastly, ‘ere be tha tent o tha Red Pelican Assassin’s Guild. Now donnae be blancn’ lyke tha. Ye never know when ye need ta off someun an’ this ‘ere be tha place ta go. They be takn’ applications ryte now too, ifn’ ye want yer own death coin’ or one o’ those special daggers. Why do they need a booth? Why ta sell things o’ course. Ye dinnae think they make all their money in killin’ did ye?”
He slaps you across tha back, causing you to stagger forward a good two feet, “Silly peasant. How…err, sorry, forgot me manners again. They be ‘aven all manner o’ strange ‘ard ta fynd things in that there shop. Jes ye wait an’ see. An’ donnae let tha black color o’ tha tent put ye off. It is, after all, tha color o’ tha metal nighshk. So it kinnae be all bad.”
Watch Yer Back
“’Ell I be bout don wit this ‘ere tour. What? That tent? ‘Ell that be one o’ those there freni-kyn tents, where ye ken get a wee bit o’…” He peers at you suddenly, “Ye know, I’ll not be thinkn” yer old enough fer that. Les jes head on up tha road fer tha main tent.”
“'Ell 'ere we be. Ye jes take a care ta watch yer back now, them other races be vicious, low down, bug eatn' snakes in tha gra...” he looks over your shoulder again. "I'll jes be makn' me way outa 'ere now."