[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/26e756f9-4554-406a-8631-e5aac265c287.png[/img]
[i]Squall Whisperers, Minstrels[/i][/center]

The Stormbards stayed in the village for another day, sharing their songs and showing a few interested selka how to make their own musical instruments. Then the following morning they had tied together small bundles of food and left.

As they walked, the five musicians played songs together, letting Pallamino get a feel for playing with the Stormbards while also listening to Pallamino’s own style. As they sat for a light lunch, Pyouroff looked to Pallamino and suggested, “You’ve been to plenty of places we haven’t. Got any songs or stories to share?”

“I do,” Pallamino said with a nod and a light smile.

“Well let’s hear them, Pallamino,” Kaleo said.

“Well, there was one time when two Selka went on a hunt…” Pallamino began, and then launched into a tale. It was based on a true story that happened to him, but he hid his own involvement. “One was called Koma, and the other was Manu,” he said, changing the names of the participants. 

The story went on, how the two hunters had separated, and then followed the journey of Manu, as he crept through the woods searching for prey. He heard a sound, saw a flash of movement, and loosed an arrow. It turned out that the movement had been Koma, who he accidentally shot in the rear.

What followed was a dramatic and heroic survival story, as Manu tended to the wound and carried Koma back to the village. The climax of the tale saw Manu fighting a bear with nothing but his wits and a sharp piece of stone, and he prevailed. Then they returned to the village, where Koma was saved and Manu was welcomed as a hero. “And that’s the end,” Pallamino proclaimed happily once it was over.

“Manu fought a bear!” Kaleo exclaimed

“He shot Koma in the butt,” Pyouroff sniggered

“Poor Koma,” sighed Sulingu.

“We could make a pretty rousing song from that,” Hujaya suggested, to which the other Stormbards nodded.

“A song of a brave hero,” said Sulingu.

“A heroic story which people can relate to, though,” Pyouroff said.

“Although fighting off a bear single-handedly isn’t exactly everyday,” Kaleo said.

“Got to have something to aspire to,” Pyouroff retorted.

“Well, how shall we start it?” Hujaya asked.

“It should start upbeat,” Pallamino suggested. “Like they’re two friends going on an adventure.”

“Ha, yes, an upbeat adventure!” proclaimed Kaleo.

“Hmm,” Hujaya sat contemplatively. She soon started plucking a simple phrase on her lyre, nodding her head and moving her lips along with the rhythm until she had formulated some lyrics.

“The day was fresh, the sun had rose,
When these two friends, picked up their bows.”

Hujaya kept repeating the notes on her lyre as she paused to think again. “We’ll need to introduce Koma and Manu. What words can we use to describe them?”

“Manu fought a bear, so he’d have to be big, strong, and quick,” Pallamino pointed out. “But he wasn’t much of a hunter, to have made a mistake like that. Koma would have been more experienced in hunting, which sets up a role reversal when he needs Manu’s help.”

Hujaya went back to nodding with the rhythm, and she seemed to go through several lines in her head before settling on,

“Koma, hunter extraordinaire.
Manu was strong, but not aware.”

“Into the forest, these two split ways,
To trek more ground, find meat for days.”

Hujaya paused in her singing again to think of the next lines. Then Pallamino offered a suggestion.

“Manu saw something, it moved in the bush,
He sent an arrow, into Koma’s tush.”

“Ha, nice one,” Pyouroff exclaimed.

Hujaya moved her lips silently with the lyre. “The rhyme’s good, but it’s a little longer than the other lines,” she commented. She played the phrase on her lyre a couple more times before singing,

“Manu saw movement in the bush,
He shot his bow, at Koma’s tush.”

“That works too,” Pallamino said with a nod.

Hujaya continued,

“Koma fell down, arrow in rear.
Manu rushed up, face full of fear.”

“Hmm, now how’d he treat the wound?” Hujaya pondered.

Pallamino shrugged. He knew full well how the wound was treated, yet he had to maintain the pretense that he wasn’t there. “Maybe he found something to bind it?” he suggested. “Leaves, fur… I don’t know.”

Hujaya strummed another phrase on the lyre. “Manu bandaged the wound up tight. Manu found leaves, to bind the wound. But what’s the next line?”

Kaleo suggested,

“Koma can’t walk, try as he might.
With his strong arms, Manu picked up,
The poor selka, like a young pup.”

Hujaya nodded. “Yes, good. The bear should come in the next verse.”

Pallamino nodded in agreement. The bear had, in truth, been a lone wolf that he had scared off by throwing a rock, but that wasn’t quite as exciting. “They say the bear pinned him,” Pallamino said, “but he grabbed a nearby rock and bashed it in the head until it gave up and ran.”

Hujaya’s head bounced along with her lyre, and she sang,

“Holding Koma, the walk was fair,
Till Manu was met by a bear.
Manu was pinned, but he could fight.
He grabbed a rock, struck with great might.
Though it was grim, he did not cede,
Till the bear fled, and he was freed.”

Pallamino decided to add the last verse.

”Then to the village they returned,
And a brand new lesson they learned.
When you search the forest for loot,
Always take care, watch where you shoot.”

Hujaya clapped her hands together. “There’s our song! Now let’s see if we can get some music to it.”

Pyouroff picked up his drum and started to beat out a rhythm. Sulingu pulled out her flute and played a few experimental notes. Hujaya continued to play her lyre, Pallamino brought out his conch, and Kaleo hummed to warm up his voice. The Stormbards made eye contact with Hujaya, who gave a nod. Kaleo took a deep breath in and sang as the rest played on their instruments, “Oooooh,

“The day was fresh, the sun had rose,
When these two friends picked up their bows…”

[hr]
Golden brown sargassum stretched through the blue-green water, shafts of sunlight piercing down from above. Schools of small fish swam between the fronds and nibbled on the algae. On the sand below a crab walked, nipping at passing fragments of sargasso with its claws and putting them in its mouth.

A blur of grey dove down from the sargasso above, heading for the crab. The crab turned and pointed its pincers menacingly as it slowly walked backwards. The selka pulled up short, Kaleo keeping back from the snapping claws. He thumped the ground a few times, as though intimidating the crustacean.

Behind the crab the lithe form of Sulingu approached quietly. While the crab was still distracted by Kaleo, she reached out and snatched the crab by the claw, quickly pulling it up from the sand and letting it dangle buoyantly. Sulingu flashed Kaleo a grin with a stream of bubbles escaping from her mouth, and Kaleo gave a little smile in return. They swam back up and breached the surface, Sulingu holding the crab at arm’s length.

A triumphant tune sounded, from where Pallamino sat in the shallows, up to his shoulders in water, with the conch shell at his lips. He had opted to continue playing the instrument instead of going for a swim today, and when Sulingu appeared above water with a crab, he had quickly launched into a series of upbeat notes to celebrate the achievement.

Hujaya was also on the surface at the time and applauded both Sulingu’s catch and Pallamino’s music. Kaleo took a sharpened stick from his belt and, with Sulingu holding the crab, he skewered the crab from behind and it stopped struggling against Sulingu. Kaleo, Sulingu and Hujaya swam back to shore. Pyouroff broke the surface shortly after with a fish on the end of a simple spear and also headed back. Pallamino rose to his feet and began to wade back toward the beach as they drew near.

Sulingu and Kaleo went looking for some suitable rocks to open the crab with once they got back to shore. Hujaya waded up beside Pallamino. Once Pyouroff stood up, he brought the spear to his face and took a bite out of the fish. He waded closer to Hujaya and Pallamino and proffered the fish-holding spear towards them. “Want some?” he asked, still chewing.

Pallamino accepted the spear, brought it to his own mouth, and took a bite from the other end of the fish before handing it over to Hujaya who also took a bite. “Good catch,” he complimented. “I was quite the fisherman myself.”

“Is that so? You can catch the next meal then,” Pyouroff said jovially, patting Pallamino on the back as he retrieved his spear from Hujaya.

On the beach there was a crunch and gristle as Kaleo cracked open the shell of the crab. Sulingu struck one of the claws with a rock, peeled back the shell and scooped out the flesh to eat. Pyouroff sat down beside them and stuck his spear butt first into the sand. Hujaya and Pallamino sat beside him shortly after, and in a circle the five of them ate the fresh seafood.

Eventually Hujaya asked, “You said... Arryn taught you about hunting. A hunting god from down-beach, from what Pyouroff said.”

“Well, no,” Pallamino corrected. “Arryn is the ‘Avatar’ of the Hunting God, whose name is Kalmar. An Avatar is some sort of messenger, or representative, and it was Arryn who taught us how to hunt. He taught some other tribes, too.”

Hujaya rolled the strange word over her tongue, then settled on a more familiar term. “Arryn messenger of Kalmar. But you met him, though?” Hujaya said, looking at Pallamino with interest.

“I did,” Pallamino nodded with some enthusiasm. “We spoke often, he even came to me for advice once or twice.”

Sulingu looked astonished, Hujaya raised an eyebrow in surprise, and Pyouroff eyed Pallamino skeptically. “A god came to you for advice?” Hujaya asked.

“Well, an avatar,” Pallamino corrected once again. “He spent a lot of time among us. He would ask our opinions on things.”

“What sorts of things?” Hujaya asked.

“Where we were living, the leadership of our village, the availability of food, what we would do in certain scenarios, things like that,” Pallamino said with a shrug.

The Stormbards looked at each other. This was quite the news to them. Sulingu piped up, “So..., what does Arryn look like?”

“He’s a bird,” Pallamino said. “Brown and red feathers, and a bright yellow beak.”

“Is he big? He must be huuuge, being godly and all,” Sulingu said wide-eyed.

“No, he’s actually small,” Pallamino shook his head. “He said it drew less attention.”

“He’s god of- ‘avatar’ of the god of hunting, Sulingu. He’s not going to be some giant beast. Can’t hunt like that,” Pyouroff scoffed.

Sulingu pouted. “How are you meant to tell he’s a god’s af- av- messenger, though? Delphina’s big and impressive. Right, Hujaya?”

Hujaya nodded and smiled fondly. “Yes, Delphina is great and beautiful. She leaves no doubt that you are in the presence of the divine.”

“Well, for a start, he speaks to us - no bird can do that,” Pallamino said. “He taught and gifted us things we had never seen before, and gave us blessings in the past. Then there is the god he serves, Kalmar, who often answers prayers. I’ve heard his voice myself,” he said proudly.

“You are blessed to have been spoken to by two gods, Pallamino,” Hujaya said. “Perhaps we should compose a song about Arryn and Kalmar some time. Unless you already have one.”

“I don’t,” Pallamino shook his head. “Despite all the help they’ve been to us, there isn’t that much material that can be put into a song.”

Hujaya frowned. “That’s a shame. I’m sure we’ll figure out something some time, though.”

“Really no tales and stories? Your elders must have told you something about them on nights around the bonfire,” Pyouroff said.

“Well, there are some stories, I’m just not sure they’ll make for exciting songs,” Pallamino shrugged. “When my tribe first met Arryn, he came to us during a food shortage. Either our fishermen were having poor luck at the time, or most of the fish had moved elsewhere. Arryn taught us how to hunt on the land instead of the sea, and gave us bows to do it. I don’t know if you’ve seen a bow before, but he’s the one who invented it. Food stopped being an issue, and in gratitude a shrine was made for Kalmar.”

“Those are those curved sticks with string which can hurl little spears, yes?” Kaleo said, “We’ve seen a few tribes down-beach with them.”

Hujaya hummed, then suggested, “A song of praise, perhaps. Arryn’s done such good things for your tribe, a good song would be fitting gratitude.”

“I suppose it would,” Pallamino nodded. “I’d need time to think of one.”

Hujaya waved a hand. “Of course.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “What tales of Delphina do the Ubbo tell?”

“Well, first, we call her Ashalla,” Pallamino said. “That’s her true name. Apparently we Selka are the only ones who call her Delphina. We only met her twice. The first time was when she spoke to me on the beach and gave me this conch. The second time was when she had us perform a concert to show her our music, and we impressed her.”

There were looks of confusion and surprise among the Stormbards. “Ashalla,” Hujaya said slowly, testing the name.

“‘We Selka’,” Pyouroff said with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Arryn spoke of other lands, and other people,” Pallamino answered. “They look different from us and believe different things, but he said they were just as smart.”

Sulingu’s eyes widened. “That sounds exciting. Do you think we’ll get to meet them?”

Hujaya, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention. “Her true name?” she muttered. A great conflict seemed to be rolling behind her face.

Kaleo noticed, then suggested, “Perhaps we should share our stories of Delphina.”

“But, if…” Hujaya was silent for many long seconds. Then her worry was covered over by resolve and she picked up her lyre. “Ippino.”

That word was enough for the other Stormbards to set down their food, pick up their own instruments and begin to play. Hujaya looked down at her lyre, closed her eyes and sang the song of the Man Who Loved the Sea, her voice gentle and beautiful.

“There once was a man who lived by the sea.
He looked at the water and found beauty,
In light of the moon and blue of the sea,
That man sung 'Delphina how I love thee.'”

[hr]
It was night-time. The light of the Lustrous Garden shone dimly between a few clouds. The Stormbards had found a spot to sleep and had laid down to rest. But Hujaya was not with the sleeping selka. Instead she was kneeling in the surf facing out to sea, lyre hanging by her side.

“Delphina- or, Ashalla- or, I- I don’t even know anymore,” she said softly, her voice strained. She hung her head in her hands.

There was a splash of feet wading through water behind her, and a selka sat down behind her, but she did not look up. “What’s on your mind, Hujaya?” asked a concerned baritone voice.

Hujaya stared out to sea for a few moments. “Ippino, Yupiligo, none of them ever said Delphina’s ‘true name’ was Ashalla. No one knew, not even me.”

Kaleo laid a hand on Hujaya’s back. “Yet Delphina answered them all the same. She came to Ippino. She came to you. It’s just a name. Some people or things are known by multiple names by different people.”

Hujaya crossed her arms across her chest. “It’s not the name which bothers me.”

“Oh?”

“If they didn’t have the right name, what else did they get wrong? That’s what scares me.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

Kaleo shuffled sideways and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Hujaya leant into the embrace. “No one said the name was wrong,” Kaleo said.

“But… it’s what Arryn said. Even the gods say ‘Ashalla’.”

“That doesn’t mean ‘Delphina’ is not true,” Kaleo said, “Ippino spoke endless praises to Delphina’s name, and he was the most favoured and loved of all mortals. And you, you are second only to Ippino, Hujaya.”

Hujaya looked sideways to Kaleo for the first time. Tears glistened at the edge of her eyes. “Really?”


“Delphina said so herself. And we all know it to be true.”

Hujaya leaned over and hugged Kaleo with her own arms. Kaleo brought up his other arm to complete the embrace.

“You’re worrying too much, putting too much weight on Pallamino’s words,” Kaleo eventually said. “His tribe doesn’t even know where their gods came from. But we do.” Then Kaleo sung softly in Hujaya’s ear.

“In a time, long ago,
Kirron made the land we know.
Stone and earth he raised high,
But the world was oh so dry.”

Hujaya knew the song well, and sang the next verse almost by reflex.

“Life was made on the land,
Children of Kirron’s own hand.
In the depths were others,
Made by Delphina as hers.”

Kaleo and Hujaya sung in harmony as the song continued.

“The pair’s love was so strong,
Held each other all night long.
But she was called away,
Sacred duties to obey.”

Kaleo then pulled back to look into Hujaya’s eyes as he sung.

“‘Oh why must you leave me?
Yet I know it’s your duty.
But my beautiful dear,
Who’ll love me without you near?’”

Hujaya looked back into Kaleo’s eyes as she sung.

“‘Never shall I leave you,
Always I shall embrace you,
No matter how far off,
By this you will know my love.’”

A little smile formed on Kaleo’s face as he sang the next verse.

“‘Show me how you’ll do this,
Reach from across the abyss.
Delphina, show me how,
Far from land you’ll keep this vow.’”

Hujaya brought her face slightly closer to Kaleo’s as she sang with her melodious voice.

“‘I will open the deep,
From which much water will weep,
This is how I’ll love you,
I made the seas to hug you.’”

Kaleo’s voice joined with Hujaya’s in beautiful unison for the final verse.

“From where Delphina sings,
Her love to us the waves brings.
Her love won’t leave Kirron,
Forever it will carry on.”

They remained close as the last notes hung in the air, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests as they breathed slowly. Then Hujaya pulled Kaleo into a deep embrace. “Thank you,” she said from over his shoulder.

“Any time,” Kaleo replied, holding firmly onto Hujaya.

They continued to hug as two more waves rolled past them. Then Hujaya planted a kiss on Kaleo’s cheek and stood up, brushing the sand off her knees. Kaleo stood up and brushed his sand off too. They started walking back inland, but Hujaya paused for a moment to turn back towards the ocean and whispered, “Thank you, Delphina.” Then they walked back to the camp together.

[hr]
Music and laughter filled the air of the little village. A drum beat, a rattle shook, a flute played, and a lyre strummed together in an energetic song. And within a semi-circle of rapt onlookers danced Sulingu, her movements one with the music.

As usual, Pallamino blew into his shell, his fingers in a dance of their own as music poured forth. Pyouroff beat his drum and clapped his sticks together, marking the tempo for the others and providing a driving beat. Hujaya’s fingers flowed across the strings of her lyre. Kaleo held a rattle and shook it in time. Sulingu danced freely. She kicked her legs high, she spun tightly, her movements flowed with agility and grace.

Eventually the dance came to an end, and Sulingu bowed to the clapping crowd, breathing heavily. But the crowd wanted more. Hujaya looked over to the other musicians, as though asking what to do next. Then Pallamino began to play, launching into the tune of the song they had created just the other day. Pyouroff jumped into the beat immediately, and Hujaya eased into the melody and gave Kaleo a nod. Sulingu stepped back into line with the musicians with a graceful twirl, picking up her flute, while Kaleo put down the rattle and stepped up to where Sulingu had been just before. “Listen up, for I have a thrilling story to tell,” he announced. Then, when the music was right, he launched into the song.

“The day was fresh, the sun had rose,
When these two friends, picked up their bows.
Koma, hunter extraordinaire.
Manu was strong, but not aware.”

The audience listened, with a few whispers among themselves.

“Into the forest, these two split ways,
To trek more ground, find meat for days.
Manu saw movement in the bush,
He shot his bow, at Koma’s tush.”

At the last word Kaleo slapped his own backside to the raucous laughter of the crowd. At the same time the music transitioned to a slightly different melody, with more urgency. Pallamino smirked, but did not waver in his task.

“Koma fell down, arrow in rear.
Manu rushed up, face full of fear.
Manu bandaged the wound up tight.
Koma can’t walk, try as he might.
With his strong arms, Manu picked up,
The poor selka, like a young pup.”

The music grew more intense as Kaleo entered the next verse.

“Holding Koma, the walk was fair,
Till Manu was met by a bear.
Manu was pinned, but he could fight.
He grabbed a rock, struck with great might.
Though it was grim, he did not cede,
Till the bear fled, and he was freed.”

Kaleo stopped singing for a few moments for the music to strike a victorious chorus. Then he sang the final verse.

“Then to the village they returned,
And a brand new lesson they learned.
When you search the forest for loot,
Always take care, watch where you shoot.”

And at the end, while the other musicians stopped, Pallamino carried on alone. He took his instrument into one hand as he added in a series of foot stomps and knee slaps while he played the final notes, and then bowed deeply once it was finished.

The crowd applauded and cheered, both to Kaleo and Pallamino. Pyouroff rolled his eyes, but Hujaya seemed happy. The audience approached to give their compliments, with hand shakes and back pats. Among the throng, a boy in his early teens approached Pallamino and asked, “Hey, um, er, could you show me how to do that?”

“Oh?” Pallamino looked down at the boy and smiled, “do what?”

“To play music,” he answered.

“Do you have an instrument?” Pallamino asked him.

“Umm,” the boy looked down sheepishly, “no.”

“Well, first you need an instrument,” Pallamino said. “Is it the flute you’re interested in playing?”

The boy lifted his eyes to Pallamino’s conch. “Er, yes.”

“Well, I can give you a quick lesson on how to play mine,” Pallamino suggested, “and then when you get your own you’ll already have some idea of what to do.”

The boy looked up eagerly and nodded his head. “Okay.”

Pallamino held his conch back up. “So when you blow into it,” he began, doing so in a quick demonstration, “the air passes through these holes, and sound comes out. By covering the holes, you get different sounds.” He put the flute back to his lips and played a few demonstrative notes. “It’s all about putting those sounds together in a way that pleases either you or the listener.” He wiped the conch off and handed it to the boy. “You give it a try.”

The boy took the conch, inspected it for a moment, took a deep breath then blew into it. He produced nothing but breathy wind. Pallamino looked at him for a moment, and then realization dawned. “Oh right,” he said. “There’s also a certain technique you need to do with your lips. Let me show you…” he reached forward to take the conch back.

He showed the boy the best way to hold it, and how to blow into it. Then, he taught the boy some basic notes, and once he had managed those, he sent the kid on his way. All the while, Hujaya had watched the scene carefully.

The Stormbards mingled with the villagers for a while longer. They were given a share of the evening meal in exchange for a couple more musical performances. Then, the next morning, Hujaya called over Pallamino to the rest of the Stormbards.

“We’ve made our decision,” she said. “We will teach you to be a Stormbard.”

Pallamino blinked in surprise, perhaps wondering if he had heard her correctly, and then smiled. “Well!” he said confidently, “I’m glad to hear it.”

“But first, you have to take the oath.”

“Oh, of course, the oath. Um… what is it, exactly?”

Hujaya waved a hand. “It has three parts. Just repeat after me. I promise to always worship Delphina, who gives me my strength.”

“I promise to always worship Delphina, who gives me my strength,” Pallamino said, his voice both serious and sincere.

“I promise to use my power and skills to show Delphina’s strength, and to create beauty wherever I go.”

“I promise to use my power and skills to show Delphina’s strength, and to create beauty wherever I go,” he repeated.

“I promise to teach others as I was taught.”

“I promise to teach others as I was taught,” he concluded.

Hujaya clapped her hands together. “By taking this oath, you are now a Stormbard, and you can learn how to speak with squalls.” Kaleo, Pyouroff and Sulingu cheered their congratulations and walked up to shake Pallamino’s hand and pat him on the back.

Pallamino smiled, shook their hands with vigour, and returned their back pats with pats of his own. “So, when do I start learning?” he asked.

“We can start right away if you like,” Hujaya said. She turned and beckoned for him to follow. “Come, let’s find some squalls.”

[hider=Summary]
Pallamino is hanging out with the Stormbards. He shares a dramatised hunting tale which is secretly about himself, and they write a song about it, [i]A Hunter’s Mishap.[/i]

Later they catch some seafood. Over lunch, the Stormbards ask Pallamino about the Ubbo’s gods. They talk about Arryn, Kalmar’s ‘Avatar’. Hujaya suggests Pallamino could make a hymn of praise to Arryn, although this project is shelved for a later date. They then talk about the Ubbo’s interaction with Delphina. Pallamino reveals that Delphina’s ‘true name’ is Ashalla.

Hujaya does not take it well, and that night she is alone on the beach having a crisis of faith. If her elders got Delphina’s name wrong, what else did they get wrong about her? Kaleo appears and manages to comfort and reassure her. They sing [i]Delphina’s Promise[/i] together and have a romantic moment.

Later they are performing music for a village. We get to see [i]A Hunter’s Mishap[/i] performed, and Pallamino throws in a flute solo at the end. A boy asks Pallamino how to play the flute, and he shows him.

The next day, Pallamino is formally inducted as a Stormbard.

[b]Prestige Summary[/b]
[i]Start:[/i] 5 Prestige
[i]Earned:[/i] 3 Prestige (major role, collaboration)
[i]Spent:[/i] None
[i]End:[/i] 8 Prestige
[/hider]