Arestal the Grand Master of Artistry

Role

Chapter 6

Our reputation got us in to trouble more than once, and the day I recall most
was the day the school bullies, who we would have been around more had we
gone to school, found us drawing on walls in an alley. Four against the two
of us. I believed I could hold my own against one, maybe even two out of
sheer desperation to protect Norinsel. But while thoughts of a losing battle
played out in my mind, my little brother, who was nearly my size already but
over three years younger, calmly walked up to the largest brute and punched
him squarely in the neck, and quickly defeated the other three before I could
even begin to process what happened. His response when I demanded to know how
he did it? The little beast just felt like he could do it, so he did. Of
course we stayed the course, causing more minor grief and regaling each other
with tales of simple misdeeds, thieving and getting into fights.

The whole time he was around, I was lifted. He was the first and only
blessing in my life, and he was taken from me. We were our own gang, the two
of us against Thera. We owned our little patch of cloud and no one could take
it from us. Not wary to the ways of the world, we did not know that others
might feel as strongly about their homes as we did ours. It was on one of our
forays to distant grounds, this time to Udgaard, that was the end of the
beginning, and the beginning of a new end. It was there that Norinsel died.
Where I thought part of me did too. Now, I know that was just the end of that
part of my life, the end of the first act, regardless of how broken I felt.

And the second act is still being written, directed by the adventurous spirit
instilled in me by my kin. It took me a long time to realize this play is not
a drama, that it is a comedy, perhaps one of errors, but a comedy
nonetheless. I want nothing more than to see all of Thera, just like we
talked about when we were young.

Role

Chapter 5

Most every city has vice, shadier areas for the shadier dealings of life. The
city in the clouds was no different. At least not where I grew up, far from
the sights of the castle, in the darker shadows of alleys and decay. Parents
who were 'entertainers' that were never around, or who you wished were not if
they were. At times they were great, far more friend than parent. Lavish
costume parties with dance and song. But also loud, long nights full of
anger, hate, and fear. If home was where the heart was, I was homeless. Life
changed when he arrived.

I was still young, just beginning the fledgling stage of my life, my flying
feathers finally starting to grow. I am not sure if he was my full brother or
not. He did have different coloring, but perhaps that was just chance. It
does not matter, he was blood. I would have left it were not for him, before
I was ready to go. But he was such an intelligent hatchling, eyes always
inquisitive. And he was left to me all the time so the providers could go get
shamefully drunk and do whatever horrible deed was on the agenda for the
night. How could I abandon him to them? He gave lift to my wings for the
first time in my life.

I taught him everything I knew. I know, I still know, I know nothing. Wait,
now I am confusing myself again? Just need some more drink. Ironic, I know
that too. Apple not too far from the tree and all that. I just do not do the
anger thing. It is not in me. I guess good ole mom and dad kept that all too
themselves. Sort of nice, actually. Thanks for that, at least.

We shared everything, any fruit I could buy from odd jobs and errands, or
from stealing it. I was never a good thief, but it did get the adrenaline
going. I was never a good fighter either, but I always did my best to protect
Norinsel. And if nothing else, other than keeping the anger and not passing
it on to us, the parents instilled in us a need to learn. Insatiable really,
like the alcohol to them. Books, songs, lore of any type. We had grand
adventures, breaking window panes to sneak into a rich home and read books in
the library, or stealing food from a kitchen. It was on one of our epic
journeys that I learned it did not matter if I could not protect him, because
Norinsel could protect me. And how!

Like any neighborhood, it is easy to develop a reputation for this or for
that. We had reputations for this and that, mischievous but not mean.
Spirited. In need of direction. Heck, that still applies to me, I think. I
need direction. I want to go everywhere at once, do everything at once. Some
things never change, I suppose.

(cont)

Role

Chapter 4

The repose of the storms seems to coincide with the repose of my soul.
Overwhelmed, overjoyed, higher and higher I fly, new strength found in the
surrounding Thera, and strength I did not fully believe I had in me. There is
a storm of emotion brewing within, one I imagine tastes like a horrendous
mixture of hard liquors, but it is tempered somehow. For long ago, this
boiling over of emotion always led to a dark place where my own personal
tempest would attempt to drown me with deluge after deluge of memory, where
seemingly no good was left. Might it be true, might I have found something
wonderful and joyous, that might bring happiness?

Happiness, I think, might not be the destination I have been in search of for
so long. Hells below and heavens above, I do not even know what the
destination I had in mind was. But, as I ramble on as usual, it matters not.
Happiness is not the destination, it is steps taken, both forward and back,
and with me to the side and with a hop at times. It is sharing my words and
songs, my voice, with my companions, whom I grow to care for as cousins, and
even as a brother. And though my voice is weak yet, I am finding it, honing
my ability. I will become a master of my craft, I have no doubts.

And I will use my new found voice as a conduit for my spirit, to use my
skills as a wordsmith to lighten the mood, to lift the minds and hearts
around me. And the family I find, the seemingly kindred spirits, help to keep
my wings near the ground. For if not, I might soar into the sun. And while
that would be a grand adventure, it would probably hurt. But even they know
there will be a time when I must fly, and who knows, maybe I will journey to
the stars!

Role

Chapter 3

I am but a piece of driftwood, floating through the seas of life. Though my
ship is small, I am its captain. And though the winds and tides guide me to
where I am going, I know I am going where I will be. And what I will be? I
will be my own captain on this rolling sea.

Song List

Role

Chapter 2

To be a student of life is to be a student of death. Perhaps death even more.
For it is everywhere, coming at us relentlessly. We fight back against the
tides, often in vain, but we fight nonetheless. We learn, and we use the
knowledge gained to aid in the battles of our lives, the literally blade
versus blade, or song versus mind, or the battle of words and wits between
foes and allies alike. We each use what we learn to shape the futures of our
lives. Some of us happen to have better teachers than others.

But I too am a student of life, seeing the blessings of it each day. I see
the shared love and joy of various groups, even in the perverted and obtuse
love that is shared between those who seek great power, such as the Imperials
and Scions, and even some of the Fortress. I see the camaraderie of brothers
in the wilds, hunting with and amongst the wild beasts as natural parts of
the chain. I see and experience the highs and lows, perhaps too often the
latter, of a Theran life. I am still changing, developing into something that
will be great. Something to be proud of. Someone I will be proud of. I know I
can be more, and I will be. But I know I can be more, and I will be more. I
have gone it this far alone, and I will push forward, wings keeping me aloft.
Something kept me alive, and it continues to move me. And perhaps some day I
might be surrounded by others, people who think like me, if there are any.
People who just want to be.

Role

Chapter 1

Eyes burning and bloodshot, more sweat trickles down his feathered forhead,
stinging already burned eyes and blurring his vision even further. Despite
the heavy fatigue of battle sapping his limbs and the tightness in his lungs,
Arestal heaves deeply, swallowing precious air in order to continue the
battle. His duergar attacker turned prey now backed into a corner, Arestal
reflects that the ending of this battle is twofold: always fighting for his
life, but life, but knowing his life is more in danger from the little beast
standing in a side doorway if he does not improve his battle prowess. And
these hearty folk have proven far more battle ready than imagined, but while
they were strong, the speed of weapon, the melodic song, is able to cut in
more ways than one.

Extending his arm forward, just below eye level of his nigrescently hued foe,
sword seemingly no more than an extension of his being, Arestal swings, shock
in is eyes as two more duergar appear beside their kin, come to distract and
protect, narrowly deflecting the quick blow.

'He has no chance...Despair bird! There is no hope. Your kin is slain, you
are nearly so...'

Worriedly, he whips his head around, eyes narrowing, as he sees his kin,
blood bubbling from a grievous wound in his neck, lying prostrate beneath a
fourth and final duergar. Screeching, brutalized noises escape Arestal's
mouth, spittle and blood flying from his orange beak, a gross froth slowly
making its way from face to chest plummage, transforming his visage into that
of a wild raptor, fighting to destroy everything in its way.

Charging toward the group, one of the newcomers utters a word, and for the
briefest of moments, everything about Arestral seems to slow down. Just not
his mind, as he decides to continue his charge out of the room, only to
return with beauty somehow still in his singing voice. The first song causes
all four to slumber, the second to see things as they are not. The third
never came out, as a fire giant walked into the room and uttered one word,
'sleep.' And with that, the world went black.

For what might have been moments, or perhaps hours, Arestal slept through
spell after spell, finally awakening to crippling disease and bashes from the
giant and ebony dwarves. Luck, fate, the gods (cruel and or merciful)?
Regardless, life was not ended for the winged fighter. Beaten, but not to
death. Not dead. Mostly dead. Mostly dead is still alive.

Body broken, beak cracked, the spirit was still whole. Perhaps bruised, and
even stabbed, for if that giant of a duergar warrior had not pierced his
heart, surely Arestal's spirit stopped the wicked blade.

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