The following poster has appeared to many walls and doors around Underport and Ultrinnan. People whisper about the upcoming show.

Ladies and gentlemen... I, Delareng, proudly present the greatest bard of the Underdark, Vesz'fein, seeking new talent throughout the Underdark!

Those wishing for glory and fame, gold and diamonds, arrive at the Gates of Elysium, at Underport, in three nights, to show your talent!



// Underport, 3AM GMT, 23th day. That's tomorrow, and evening for the US side.

*Collan Nolan is playing his favorite, a song he calls "When you're evil" at the Elysium when the bartender tells him about this*

This is fantastic, finally I'll get some real audience down here, I'm quite tired of the old bunch of mindless slaves wandering here snared by my songs.

_________________
"Collan" the Skald; Where the Wild Roses Grow
-Tribute to all you beauties that met your fate by his hand

*Vesz'fein pens a small notice outside the Elysium*

"To those who recognize the caverns of the Underdark as a concert hall, I invite you to sing the dirges that were born in our dark caves and blackened pools. The harmonics alive in our wraithlike walls are adept at assailing the senses of lesser beings, so now is the time to showcase your abyssal artistic abilities. Note that success reaps the rewards of reputation, and failure brings nothing but bestial humiliation."

_________________
"It is absurd to divide people into good or bad. People are either charming or tedious." -Oscar Wilde

_________________

Arissa Nightblade's Wiki

*Walking through Underport, Vrinn spies the notice and goes wide eyed for just a moment. Then crosses his arms and takes a closer look. Rubbing away the ale induced fog that blurs his vision that particular morning, he notices that it is not his name.*

Whew, thought I had forgotten a show already. No matter, I'll just have to make an appearance and show them who the -real- "Greatest bard of the underdark" is.

_________________

*The rumors of the concert reached Phyaere's ears far too late, and she sighed in disappointment. She had far too much to do herself with preparing for the grand feast of Tinnerai, to worry about or prepare for a concert.*
//Just heard about it, unfortunately I am heading out in a minute, so I'll miss it, meh =(

_________________
Shattered Gem Productions, is honoured to have brought you


Siggy by Koragi, Vegan, & Myself

Collan the Skald walks out of the Elysium smiling. He has yet again tossed the coin in the air, and his constant sacrifices for Beshaba have been fruitful. To taunt the Ultrinnan, to mock their competition and in the end, to not be the unfortunate one who was turned to spiders. He smirks and heads to bazaar to buy himself company for tonight and sacrifice for tomorrow.

_________________
"Collan" the Skald; Where the Wild Roses Grow
-Tribute to all you beauties that met your fate by his hand

Elvinna'dris, a yathrin/yath'tallar, prayed to Lloth. She also contemplated what had just happened.



She had just watched the almost-fulfilling investigation of the captured Renegade male with a mostly silent, yet stern resolve. More Heretics. And noone had even dealt with the Demon-Threat, not really, not yet. And she surveyed the all-too-talkative crowd at the Temple. Elvinna'dris kept rigid control of her inferiors so that the Draada Obokurl could interrogate in almost-silence. If only that yath'abban Yae'Nae had shut up..

And then, as Elvinna'dris had attempted to instruct the impulsive yath'abban, the ending phrases rang in her mind..

"..ignorance is naut tolerated.." Elvinna'dris had spoken sharply to Yae'Nae.

"Then you should naut be here." spouted the jalil as she promptly exited.



She prayed to Lloth in a fervor..

..Lloth tlu malla..patience in the teaching of this horribly defunct outpost of Your Glory..help me to reform my fellow yath into a more respectable and powerful assemblage.. Elvinna'dris murmured.

_________________

Arissa Nightblade's Wiki

Vrinn can simply be seen, bottle in hand, shaking his head and laughing about the event with anyone who lends him an ear. It is clear (at least to him) that he still holds the title that Vesz'fein chap sought for himself.

"Greatest bard of the underdark? I stole his show right out from under him with impromptu verses of his audiences choosing! The boy wouldn't even take the stage after I had my five minutes.

And then they arrested some other poor sod for herecy, while me and Dra'kil walked right out the bloody front door!

Oh, gods, I hope we have a chance to do that again."

_________________

//This writing is made available IC only to those whom Vesz expressly gives it to. Otherwise its for your OOC enjoyment.

*Vesz'fein returns to his private apartment to pen the events of his brilliant performance*

It is with a most satisfied sigh that I sit now to write of what transpired within the Gates of Elysium. The first perfection was the ruse that set the scene. After being informed that the suspect in the murder of our brood mothers was a temple guard named Vic'ree, we learned that he fancied himself a performer and had holed up in Underport. The proprietor of the Elysium, one Mistress Delareng, and I decided to host a talent call of lintharen to draw out the arrogant jaluk from hiding.

*Vesz'fein smiles fondly over his dripping quill, the events of the night still fresh in his mind*

Flyers were posted throughout the Underdark, and we drew a crowd of considerable size to the small venue. The tables were filled to the point that some were made to stand, and it was so enticing an environment that even the exiled linthar Vrinn made a showing to boast of his abilities. The quellar Tinnerai was well represented, as was Ultrinnan's nobility across several house lines . Though most importantly among those present was the jaluk Vic'ree, our witless wael of a victim.

"I recount my introduction here in full:
I find it only fitting to open the occasion with a few words to wake you from the dreariness of dwelling in the Underdark. To those who find me unfamiliar:

I invite you to a vogue and perhaps vague visage of a veritable vaudevillian vested in veering through a vast and villainous valley to vindicate vice. Verily, a vain but not vacuous individual van guarding the violation of virtue through violence and verse. And by this I simply mean, I stand before you as Vesz'fein.

Delareng has opened for us the Gates of Elysium in which to ply our superior performances, and so credit is given her with its due. The rest of you ought better earn your reputation through virtue of what you present. I am not fond of senseless rules, so here I lay only a few to serve as groundwork so our fateful foray comes to fruition.

First, I say any performance shall be accepted on the stage, and judgment is handed down by the audience. If they like what you do, so much are you the better for it. If not... Then the way you came in is the fastest way out. Though shame will chase you farther than you can hope to run.

Second, your display ought not exceed a few minutes. If we are made to age unfairly while we wait on your lacking inspiration, then the crowd will have you out and disgraced.

And finally, lets keep the bloodshed to a minimum while within these walls, xas? Here we fight with wits and the ephemeral word. If your blade is sharper than your tongue, then I suggest you keep them both to yourself."

With that, a bard from the surface took the stage long enough to slap a few keys of the piano and embarrass himself with a woe of weighty warbling. He was quickly dismissed, and the stage opened to Vic'ree. It was an amusing sight to see one so out of his element eke out an incriminating instrumental. He matched his mediocre music with imagery of stale webs and suffering spiders. It was enough for me to be sure of his guilt.

Our mark left the stage and was taken in by the Tinnerai crowd at the insistence of their Matron. An unexpected move, but it did not interfere with my plan. Next the infamous Vrinn followed Vic'ree's act with a tiresome bar room ballad about battling abyssal bastards. His wit was as blunt as his rhymes, but if that's what passes for a good show on the surface, then I should be glad to be held to the high standards of Ultrinnan's nobility.

The real star of the cycle was the child Ardul'hrae who managed to take the stage and perform flawlessly to assist in bringing down our jaluk. With her bandore in hand, she gave life to the music I had her rehearse. The simple chords were soothing and helped to lull our audience to the point where the banter died down: a rarity during any live performance.

I held fast to my wailing blade, a singing sword tainted by its time in the Underdark. Keeping cadence with the child's music was simple, keeping my eyes from alerting my mark was not. Our crowd listened as the minutes of music quickly passed, but the song came to an end so the real performance could begin.

*At this point in the narrative the ul'Linthar's words look to have been written with great speed, as if the adrenaline at work during the performance was still flooding his system. His lines become threadlike as the quill rips across the page. Vesz'fein laughs to himself, endlessly amused by what thoughts he would soon put to paper.*

With Ardul'hrae's closing crescendo, she activated the innate magic of her bandore and loosed a brilliant flash of light unto our off duty van guard! I dashed forth toward Vic'ree, my wailing blade just an instant behind the dazzling light! The tip of the sword found the jaluk's throat while Vic'ree was still unaware and undefended! He nearly fell backwards into the Tinnerai Matron's lap, but my off hand pulled the wael toward the door and we fled with the crowd unaware of what was happening!

My protege was close behind as we made our way to a waiting ship! Our dash to the docks was followed by the wild shouts of our audience, all of them demanding to know what was happening. No others beside myself and the little linthar knew what we had planned, so our flight to the temple in Ultrinnan was quick and unimpeded. The wael jaluk was brought to the hands of the high temple priestess, with my steady sword still at Vic'ree's throat.

Before we pressed him at all, Vic'ree admitted to the crime of killing the temple brood mothers; poison by way of belladonna. He was not goaded into this barbarous act. His was a willing hand. The jaluk's arrogance served him well enough to make his final minutes all the more amusing for his cunning captor. With a barrage of mind bending magic, Vic'ree broke down and began to tell about his master under whom he worked to execute the crime. He gave a single name, muttered out while under the jabbuck linthar's influence: "Olath'hiir...."


//Thanks to everyone who came out for the show! I'm sure it didn't turn out exactly as some of you expected, but I hope you had fun all the same. While Vesz may have smirked at those who were brave enough to have taken the stage, I want to say thanks for many jobs well done. Thanks too to Nekh for helping to arrange the ruse, and also for playing several parts throughout the night. For the record, Ardul'hrae's song was an instrumental version of Dylan's "Girl From The North Country". Give it a listen if you want to see what we were aiming for.

_________________
"It is absurd to divide people into good or bad. People are either charming or tedious." -Oscar Wilde