Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

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Winston had been working for days, creating simple curved shapes with the intention of honing their acoustic properties as much as he could. He had made a number of discoveries including Quenching for strength and folding the metal. He looked at the pile of failed attempts to create a pleasing ringing sound. By folding the metal to create layers and increase the strength of the metal, the sound produced had been improved very subtly. He was getting to the stage where the payoff was becoming smaller and smaller for the effort put in, but the process of folding added strength and worked out impurities from the metal, both of which turned a 'TING' sound into a 'RING' sound.

He was just about to test his most recent attempt. He had purchased a single to give him something to benchmark against. He picked it up and struck it and listened for the sound. He then struck the horseshoe dangling from a thread and listened. The two sounds were not yet identical, however, the shoe certainly rang and the sound was finally tuneful, if not the right key.

He gave a somewhat satisfied little sigh when Joe pipped up. "Well it rings well, but it's a little out of tune." He observed objectively. "Mabey me have the wrang tuning fork." Winston jested as he put down the fork and took off his gloves. His arms, hands, back ... well, everything was aching immensely from the effort of hammering for the entire day. "Me tink et's time far some fud and a little rest." He announced as he made his way out of the forge, setting the fire to rest and tidying away the mess from working. If he continued trying to hammer now, the only thing he was likely to produce was a pulled muscle.

Joe floated around the new horseshoe with a critical expression as Winston left the room and made his way out of Chest for some fresh air. "What are you going to do next?" He called after Winston as he raced to catch up.

"Me don't know. Sometin' es nat quite right. Me tink dat et needs a little maw fineness. De Fairies love sometin' different, un yuh cun get iron horseshoes ten a dozen at market." Joe bobbed along thoughtfully as Winston popped out of Chest and into the later afternoon breeze of Sweetsong. "Me tink et shud be sometin' unique tuh Sweetwine. But me don't know wat." He hopped down from Chest, whom closed its lid, stretched it legs and then gave a lethargic yawn as if rising from a lengthy rest. It shook off the lingering lethargy as it set off behind Winston and Joe.

"This horseshoe is taking a lot of effort." Joe observed, surreptitiously. Winston simply nodded as he looked around the camp as they passed through, travelling in no particular direction. "You really care, don't you?" Followed up the floating head. The ferret smiled. "Cars me do. Deh Fairies are me friends, Sweetwine es me friend 'nd dem keep bringin' me cakes and Fairy fud! Et's de least me cun do to return de favour tuh do me best tuh create sometin' nice far dem."

"Fairies can be hard work right? Always playing pranks and causing trouble." There was a baited tone to Joe's statement. Was he testing Winston? The amiable ferret didn't care. "Dem are Fairies. Dem are the very embodiment of whimsy. While me es very certain dey often play pranks an' rarely say exactly wat dey mean, me 'ave yet tuh meet one dat means me 'arm." He smiled at Joe, with just one corner of his mouth, as he shared a knowing glance. Joe just nodded in approval. He was deciding that this new recruit was shaping up to be worth his time as they moved through the lightly forested coastline.

Winston chewed on some bread from his most recent bake, which was now a couple days ago. It was still edible, if a little dry. He could do with some berries.

He was just beginning to search for some of the Rubrum Berries that grew around these parts when he heard the sound of drums. It was coming from the shore, but he was fairly sure the beach was still some way off. Whoever was playing, must have been doing a very good job of it for the sound to have carried this far.

He made his way toward the sound, which took longer than he expected. As the undergrowth thinned and the beach became visible, the sound became a wall of resonance, as if not one but many drums were being played all at once. There was no evidence of a band though, just one solitary person sitting on the beach, his drums clutched between his legs, drumming his heart out. The man's sparse supply of hair was wild and his features were rough and weathered by the elements.

The sand was blue, which was not a surprise to Winston, as having walked these shores numerous times before, he had walked these sands many times.

He made his way towards the man and then settled a little way off, close enough to appear to be interested, but not so close as to impose upon his personal performance area ... If such a thing existed.

It took the man a little while to notice that he had an audience as he played with his eyes closed, letting out well-timed 'yelps', 'yars' and 'keyas' with the rhythm of the music. It was quite enjoyable as the sound he made resonated from all around them. The very ground itself, the sand all around them, seemed to be supporting his performance.

The man stopped when he noticed the ferret and his chest. "Oh! You are that cooking ferret with the ... Yes, THAT chest ... Winston? Do you WANT something of ol' ?"

Winston was caught a little off guard by Tovan's blunt tone, so he shook his head apologetically. "Oh noh. Me was just enjoying yuh ya performance an' wanderin' wat magic yuh had to make the sand sing."

Tovan had not yet decided if he liked the ferret. He had a deep distrust of the Chest he owned and despite the miraculous rumors regarding its interior, anything that convenient surely bread laziness. "I don't perform for audiences. If you want to stay, you can join in." The implication that if he didn't join in that he was not welcome to stay was not lost on the ferret.

Winston nodded, sitting up and moving in to create a better feeling of connection to the duet they were about to take part in. Tovan eyed the Chest suspiciously as it began to shuffle in over the sand. Winston gestured to the Chest. "Noh Chest, please, uhhh, wait dare." He said, noticing Tovan's demeanour and deciding that there was no reason to make Tovan any more uncomfortable then necessary. "Cun me 'ave me horseshoe doh please."

Chest spat out the shoe, string attached onto the sand beside Winston, whom picked it up, took a little hammer from his toolbelt and gave it a little 'TINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG'. Winston's eye popped open as the sound reverberated off the sand all around them. Tovan smiled a little impish grin at the ferrets surprise and began to play.

Winston had no talent with instruments of any kind, but struck the horseshoe, much like one might a triangle, on a regular basis as the drums rumbled. After a little while of getting into the rhythm, he started letting out some 'Yohos' and 'Way-we-gos', drawing on his limited experience singing his shanties to try and contribute to the music.

Truth be told, Winston's singing was not good. But what he lacked in talent, he more then made up for with commitment and joy. Tovan picked up on the shanty vibe being put out by the little chap beside him and changed the beat to provide the tumbling and repetitive terrain for the vocals to tumble over. He began to sing along, providing a much more talented contribution to the performance.

Winston ended up standing and rocking from side to side as the music flowed through and around them both. The ground enriched the sound of the drums and their lyrics, sourced from songs old and new, danced around them. Joe, unseen by Tovan, danced around the two of them, making bobbling and tilting movements with the beat as they played.

As the two of them sang, as did the sand, but further to this, the resonation turned into a chorus. However poorly the little ferret worbled the lyrics, it seemed like he was not alone. Tovan stopped singing for a moment, continuing to play the drums and encouraging Winston to carry on. Something quite remarkable was happening. There was not one voice coming from the ferret, but SEVERAL. More specifically, there appeared to be a quartet of ferrets singing in perfect harmony. The harmony they were making was still a bad one, it had to be said, but nonetheless, somehow Winston was producing the sound of a band of harmonising singers, all by himself.

While Winston noticed the effect, stood up and even started moving around with the sound, he didn't consider for a second that this was not simply an affect of the sand. He continued singing, his harmonising ferret-crew coming from the very wind around him.

The two of them played for near a mark before finally stopping, out of breath and chuckling heartily. It might not have been rest, per say, but it was nonetheless rejuvenating for the ferret. "Well, your not going to win any competitions for a performance like that, but you are welcome to sing with me any time." Offered Tovan in enthusiastic tones. Winston considered this a great victory, for every word of what Tovan had said was true, but now he had a new friend! "Oh dat wud be da best! Me so love tuh sing." He exclaimed as Tovan stood and began to pack up his drums. "This I can tell, but how did you sing like that?" Came the reply of a man appreciating the enthusiasm, if not the sound.

Winston tilted his head to one side, a little confused. "Wat duh yuh mean? Dat wus nat de sand?" Tovan shook his head, a little intrigued that the ferret didn't even know what it was. "The sands don't create sounds, they only enhance them. The only other person I know that can create music from the air is Vega." He gave a little excited giggle and flourish with his fingers in a peculiar fashion.

Joe smiled as he floated past Winston's ear, whispering gently. "You are Songforged ..." The ferret repeated the word almost soundlessly. "Sang ... farged ..?" His face split into a beaming smile as he realised what this meant. "O-hohoho!" He shouted with a little leap. "Me did dat! Me did! My cun sing wid de wind!" He did a little dance. "Oh, me can't wait to talk tuh Vega. Cage did de trick alright."

If Tovan knew what that meant he didn't put it into words, but instead decided he had to go, perhaps to spread some rumours ... perhaps to build some boats ... "You are an interesting Calouri. But it is time for ol' Tovan to go. Boats that build themselves sink." He said in a frank tone of voice.

Winston collected a handful of the blue sand and thoughtfully let it run from his hand back to the ground. It was unique to Scalvaris? It was certainly very interesting and had an irrefutably interesting affect on sound.

Tovan considered him for a moment as he hoiked his drums onto his back. "The sand sings. Don't know why. Don't care. But it resonates with the sound of music. I come here to play, to enjoy the acoustics." He said plainly as if reading Winston's curiosity right off his face.

"'nd sand makes glass ... 'nd Scalv 'as a TING fuh glass ... Peraps de glass might sing?" Tovan could see something was being calculated inside the ferret's head. "You work with glass aswell?"

Winston shook his head, still deep in thought. "Nuh, me 'ave neva worked glass befar. Et took me four trials solid graft just tuh get dis tuh ring clearly." He said holding up his horseshoe a little absentmindedly. "But me cun learn 'ow tuh work glass. Me cun learn 'ow tuh work anytin' wid enough time an' effort." He said with determination.

Tovan didn't say it, but he approved of the ferret's can-do attitude and despite his distaste for his Chest, he decided that perhaps Winston was alright. "Good luck with your horseshoe. If you ever need a boat, you come and see Tovan." He concluded. With that, he started making his way off towards Sweetsong, feet sinking in the sand as the ferret's mind did the same.

"What are you thinking?" Joe whispered, an inch from Winston's ear. "You are thinking something. Come on, sharezies!" Chest gave a burp and out popped Smoky, floating around in an almost formless clouse of smoke for a moment until it coalleced into it's usual hand-like form.

Winston began to return from the depths of his thought as his hand became empty for the second time. "Me tink dat dis blue glass is de tink my horseshoe is missing." He looked over the beach around them, surveying it for what, he didn't really know. "I've never worked glass but making it should be simple. I can certainly heat things." He said with a wry smile. Joe could not argue with that. He's already seen Winston heat things to eat and shape and thus far, that had always worked.

"So you are going to make a horseshoe out of glass?" Joe asked with a healthy does of scepticism. "Well unless dems horse only has one leg, we already decided dem es nat using it far walking. If me cun shape et into de right shape, den it may do? Means re-learning al dat tuning ..." Winston's tone suggested a little regret at this final revelation, after all, it had taken days to get to a stage where he'd managed to generate a decent tone from a bit of metal. "Cum on Chest. Let's get movin'. We need to collect some af dis stuff so we can begin to play around."

Continued here.