Fable - Ask At the Wrong End of a Bottle

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“To your fortune a healer's present, should you strain yourself.” Kiros lightheartedly quipped. “But be not strained nor rushed. Regale us at your leisure. upon your moment's rest.” He kindly concluded.

"How about, I go fetch us some fishing rods, and we make good one of the three wishes," Garrod mentioned, to which Farzad replied:

"I suppose its about time I learn how to use a fishing Rod..."

“You never learned?” Kiros asked in surprise. He'd felt fairly sure that Farzad could fish, though he'd never seen any sign to imply the assumption true. He simply figured it was a useful skill for a travelling dungeon delver to possess. Yet in all fairness, Kiros himself was far from proficient at the activity. There simply hadn't been many lakes or rivers within the desert lands in which he was raised.

“Well, you may watch and learn. Though I'd be watching Garrod, were I you. I'm not a great fisherman, if you'll believe that of a desert priest.” Kiros added, moving to get the fishing gear unpacked.

Garrod Arlette Farzad Oldsummer
 
"It's Garrod," the hunter grinned, looked at both men in turn as Kiros played him up. "I mean, just a matter of patience really," he thumbed his nose. "The bait does most the work," and nodded to man who had been trapped in the glass prison. "What's your name, oh famed mortal," he would wait to hear it before he left, and nod and turn to grab the fishing rods.

The train had two in their possession, along with a good pole net. "Make'n sure you share some of your catch with us when ya angle them up!,"

A nod and a smile was all the one eyed hunter would give em, but that seemed to be enough. Weight and hook, and long lines dangled and bobbed as Garrod marched back. The rods on his shoulder rested easy and sure.

"Had two!" he said triumphantly. "Can show you how to set them up if you like," He said to both men. Then sat down in a nice bit of sand, far away from the wet churn of the surf. He dug a hole into the earth and stuck the rods in.

"First, comes the bait,"
he assured. "But before even that, gotta get a little more, comfortable," he smiled, and sat his but down, easily slipped out of his boots, and started to undo his armor. "Can go diggin through the surf to find sand crabs! Catch our way up to something more suitable for the right size of fish," he explained.

Been a while since he got to just sit down and fish.

Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel
 
Farzad wasn't sure pins and needles were under the branch of cures that healing could conjure. But then again it had been two years and magic was a constantly evolving mistress. Who was he to deny what magic was capable of in this newfound future? What exciting times they must be.

He replied in kind to Garrod,
"I am Farzad Oldsummer, though I tried getting the nickname Dungeon Delver D.D. Apparently the guild of adventurers didn't accept the title. Sucks for them they are extinct now and I am the last of their ranks." He lied he was never going to pay their fees and he was still half-certain such a bygone guild was never quite that authentic. One of their members if he recalls had a retracting knife for a dagger.

He turned to Kiros in the interim between Garrod's return his body still taught with pain as he ever so slowly tried to get the blood flowing
"I mean, I normally just made a net-like spell, tossed it into the water and just pulled them out that way. That or I went hungry. It's amazing how long you can go without eating until only minor bouts of madness kick in."


"I'm not a great fisherman if you'll believe that of a desert priest."
"Don't worry. I'm not that great of a wizard if you'd believe it of a mage." Farzad whipped back in kind before turning on a heel. Two fishing rods, three of them. He'd played this game before and he was down a knife. Though Farzad was losing confidence as Garrod started digging into the ground.

Farzad

Yes Farzad?


This man doesn't know how to fish.



He knows his terminology.


Farzad, he is digging into the dirt. There is the... Maybe the ocean right there.



Okay but WE also do not know how to fish.

Fair point.

Begrudged by his own sanity Farzad moved over to observe better. The rods were stuck into the ground, which sort of aligned with what he knew. Digging for Sand crabs though is not a part of such. "Kiros I think your desert expertise is about to come in handy." Farzad turned to him as he looked at the ground. He didn't undress as much, in fact simply walking over had already been a painful act though every step was starting to reduce the unique sensation of the pins and needles. He started, cautiously to dig around for sand crabs.
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Kiros Rahnel / Garrod Arlette
 
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Kiros gave a soft chuckle at the quip Farzad made. He'd have responded with likewise sentinemt, but he'd already somehow angered Her and had gotten in enough trouble, already.

“I've no powers of conjuration, I'm afraid.” Kiros replied. He had six spells, none of which were even remotely useful for catching fish. There was no source that could bestow more magic beyond Her. Farzad at least held the freedom to learn more magic, and held talents that served purpose beyond pursuing the whims of a fickle moon goddess.

“Right, the bait.” Kiros remarked, hiding his reservation. He hadn't done much fishing, and he'd done far less foraging for the bait it required. Before fishing for food in the waters, they'd have to scrounge for the food's food to catch it.

"Kiros I think your desert expertise is about to come in handy." Spoke Fazad. Perhaps he'd picked up on Kiros' aversion, or perhaps he had made an educated guess. Either way, he was completely correct. He knew not where to even start looking. All Kiros knew was that the crabs were located somewhere beneath the sand, which hardly narrowed the scope of the search much.

“Not likely, no. A blessing that we've Garrod's to rely on.” Kiros earnestly replied. Well, if he hadn't a clue where to start, then anywhere seemed suitable enough. Farzad had already started. Kiros knelt down until the ground was within reach, and began to dig through the tide-damped sand in search of the crabs, too.

Farzad Oldsummer Garrod Arlette
 
Garrod's knife sunk into the soft surf soaked sand, wiggled the hand, and dug out a clump of sand. "Here we go!" he called out with a grin, the sand stirred, and sloughed off the creature as a mess of little legs flailed about in panic. A new wave rushed across the sand, and foamed about his ankles and wet feet.

Who dare, disturb the slumber of the humble sand crab?


"Once you get one just..." he walked over to one of the rods, grabbed up the big hook, and skewered the little creature along its length. It squirmed on in agony, and Garrod frowned some. "Well, just hook it on," he let the hook dangle, and the little creature went on with its suffering. "And its ready to cast," Garrod wiped off his knife against his pantleg, and slicked it back into its sheath.

He grinned as another gentle wave crashed against the shore. He set the rod and its weighted hook back, and whipsnapped the the line out into the surf. It plopped into the water, and bounced some along the surface.

"So uh, about that being in the bottle," Garrod prompted, blissfully aware of the little cork bobber that plunked along the sea-water.

Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel
 
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Farzad knew this was the price of fishing.
And he swallowed deep. A heavy bulb of dry spit loitered in his throat.
But beneath that lingered a heavy rumbling.
Farzad had no knife so instead just balled his hand in fabric and thread and started delving and digging around. He wasn't as fast as Garrod brittle limbs, pins and needles did a devil's work to a body. BUt sure enoguh he peeled out a crab a smaller one but one none the less before moving over to the hook. A life hanged in the balance.

And it was Farzads.

The hook pierced, skewed and bubbled blood from the maybe year old crab as it moved it's limbs with loose pained motions that quickly diminished as Farzad cracked its shell against a rock.

Once.
Twice.
Thrice.

Before finally casting.
"So. This is fishing." Farzad said as he planted himself into the sand lucky the fabric covered most of his face and the feeling of disgust repelled away only by the rumble of hunger that let loose another roar. "Neat." He said with a drawn out t.

"So uh, about that being in the bottle,"

"That sure was a thing I did."
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Garrod Arlette / Kiros Rahnel
 
Kneeling low, he took out his knife and used the flat end of the blade to dig out the damp sand in his search for the crabs. Quite a few bladefuls were found to be without quarry, and Kiros moved to search through the sands a bit farther away. Before too much longer he’d find one, the telling stirring of motion preluding the emergence of a very startled sand crab. The subsequent puncture of a fishing hook through its little body did nothing to calm it.

Kiros wound his fishing rod back, about to fling it forward to cast his baited lure out onto the water before he realized he’d missed a crucial component; the weight. He hadn’t brought one with him, which meant the next course of action involved a search for a suitable stone. This was much easier to find than the crab had been. A small survey of the shore revealed a small rock, worn smooth and round from the repeated wash of waves over it. Kiros wrapped it up in a small piece of cloth, which was hastily stitched shut to form a pouch that could hold the makeshift weight within it.

Now that he had properly set up, Kiros cast his line again, and sent the weighted lure in an arc that ended atop the water with a splash. Nothing further remained to be done, as the activity was largely passive from here on out. Just watch the line, and reel it in should a fish bite. Truly, there was quite a bit more to fishing than that, but in his inexperience, he held no idea.

"So uh, about that being in the bottle," Garrod asked the question that remained on the minds of both.

"That sure was a thing I did." Was Farzad’s response, as deadpan as ever.

“Something you did? Don’t tell me you got in there voluntarily.” Kiros quipped in jest, mostly. He didn’t expect that to be the case, but he wouldn’t doubt Farzad if he were to admit it.

“Well, why were you in a bottle?” Kiros asked, curious about whatever scenario had seen Farzad sealed away in such a vessel.

Garrod Arlette Farzad Oldsummer
 
Garrod kept his eye on the line, his ears open to the waves and the conversation.

Seemed Kiros knew the man well enough.

And that you are bad with people, Oh Bearer Mine. His demon chided from within his thoughts.

"Why indeed," Garrod parroted. The man looked about ready to keel over though. He slipped out of his water skin's strap, and grabbed the jiggly thing up with his left hand.
"Here, have some water," he said, and tossed it over. He dug the rod into the sand to let it stand.

Next he slipped his hand into his belt pouch. Found an old biscuit of hardtack he had stashed on him for the night's guard duty. "Something to tide you over, too," he smiled, and cast his eye back out to sea, and where his line bobbed.

Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel
 
"It was as voluntary as a forced conscription," Farzad responded in kind to Kiros, reeling back a little bit taking a puff from an imaginary though impressively long pipe as he backtracked his mind to however long ago it had been.

"Well as any good story starts. I was innocent." He stated quite firmly of his position shaking his butt a little to make a concaved seat in the sand as he blew out an imaginary puff of smoke if he had even an inkling of magic he might've been able to whip and conjure a show but in this case, imagination on their parts would have to do the trick.

"See Farzad, that's me by the way. Had gone for a nice quaint trip to read some books up Osteriam way. Lovely place any time of year since it's always the same. Cold and frigid." He quipped mockingly of the slumlord palisade it may as well have been. "However, on this frostriden trip, it turned out that some half-baked slumlord had taken over some digging operation, if I was, to be honest, I didn't quite track what was going on Farzad, again. Hi." He paused to give a wave not realising he wasn't keeping the pace of first and third person in his weaved narrative. "Was also attempting not to get involved. However. See what you two I can see are thinking." Farzad mostly made up he didn't take the time to look at them happily running his own narrative. It was nice using his imagination for once. "Is that how he, Farzad get involved."

"Well, that's a fantastic story."

"That he does not remember. Anyway." He continued as if that wasn't important. "There were two defining factions. One that was paying and one that was the people. Now Farzad is a poor man. One part because he never worked a real job and the other because of multiple cases of tax evasion." In that last part, he said was frivolity, he had to at least try and make the story interesting. In a world of dragons and magic tax evasion was surprisingly interesting. "So of course he decided to play both sides." He paused, dragging a finger along the brim of his hat, a long and wide Cheshire smile dragging across. "And it." He then gave a quick finger gun to the duo. "Didn't work out."

He paused trying to figure out where to go, it'd only be when one of them attempted to ask for more that he snapped back to storytelling. "See Farzad's a Wiley and tricky man and was gonna go along with the slumlord but work with the people. See the slumlord whose name I do not recall decided he was gonna go spelunking. So Farzad, as the backline support was gonna sneak away and seal the cave up from the other side." He tapped himself twice on the forehead to emphasize his smarts. "However. The people, who mind you asked for Farzad's support were beyond belief stupid and didn't follow Farzad's plan of don't follow them." he gave out a long sigh as he clenched his jaw and sucked his teeth. "Instead they followed. So Farzad couldn't trap anyone. And in that brief interim of Farzad trying to figure out a solution. Well, Farzad. Again, hello to me. He was probably struck in the back of the head with a sap and put into a bottle. And it is unfortunate." He shook his head with condolence, "Because he died."

 
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"It was as voluntary as forced conscription." Spoke Farzad, which was to say not very. Kiros knew all to well, having had to enlist with Annuakat’s forces as prerequisite to taking a promised position as a priest. Which he’d fulfilled, though he’d managed to disqualify himself from the reward by means of a regrettable and impulsive mistake that qualified him for execution instead.

"I was innocent." Farzad said, which was something Kiros couldn't. Farzad continued to detail a trip to an unknown land in search of books to read where someone just happened to be excavating the place. Kiros began to connect the pieces he believed existed between the lines of Farzad’s story and arrived at the assumption that he had crashed some sort of expedition in search of riches and magic.

"There were two defining factions. One that was paying and one that was the people. Now Farzad is a poor man. One part because he never worked a real job and the other because of multiple cases of tax evasion." Farzad continued, and Kiros continued to ponder what the resulting trouble might have been. He'd further wonder why he brought up tax evasion.

“..Tax evasion?” Kiros replied, concern clear in his tone, though he expressed no disapproval. Partly because he had no cause to, but mostly because he took Farzad’s tale with a healthy grain of salt. The eccentric wizard had a way of embellishing a tale, though the story that followed sounded rather plausible. Farzad had interjected himself in a battle between the two factions, and Kiros was already aware of the story’s conclusion. Things surely couldn’t end well, for the story to end with Farzad sealed away. The blame had been placed upon an uncooperative populace who’d failed to heed his warning and advice, causing a complication with his stated plans.

The story concluded with further complications, caused by an assumed strike to the head.“Are you sure you’re all right, though? A hit to the head like that can be quite maladious.” Kiros spoke with concern for his friend.

He was too familiar with the effects.

Garrod Arlette Farzad Oldsummer
 
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Garrod looked down at the water skin that Farzad had all but ignored as he regaled them with the retelling of his misadventures. The more the man went on, the more Garrod grew concerned for his well being.

"How... long were you in there?" he asked at some point or the other. Hardtack still in hand, waves still pounded against the sand, and the cool crisp wash of them come roll across the granulated land tickled his ears.

The story went on. He figured it was best to let the man go on. It, well, he couldn't speak to the exact state of mind, but, he knew that sometimes, one needed to just let all that came to mind go. In some form or the other.

When it finally concluded, Kiros made known his own concerns. Garrod nodded his agreement. "Farzad," he called out directly, and worked himself up. Closed what small distance was between them, took the wizard's hand, and pressed the biscuit of hardtack into his palm, with a warm firmness. "Eat this, please," he nod. Picked up the water skin he had tossed to his side some moments ago, and pressed that to the man's chest. "And have some water man, it will do you good," he said with a small smile, and went back to his fishing pole.

The rod stood tall and straight as Garrod slumped back down against the sand. A slum lord. A betrayal. One faction against the other. "Hmm, wonder if that slum lord is still out and about," he thought aloud. Could be a job to take on.

Garrod's pole bent down toward the surf. His eye widened, and he smiled as he grabbed up the rod. "A bite!" he called out with excitement.

Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel
 
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