All About Xoch and Tarasia

(Sorry 'bout that last post, I'm awful with beginnings).

Anyway, one of my antagonists, Xoch, wants to show off his weapon collection, but first, he wants to present one of his portraits.  In it, he is posing as if he is about to kill someone... hey, at least he wasn't actually killing the guy, he IS a villain, after all.

And the artist's name is... Unknown Artist.  Odd name, I must confess, but we are talking about a painting from Tarasia...

And next is Xoch's weapon collection.

His falchion.  Odd for a pirate to use a falchion, but he doesn't care.

And knife.

And his Lemonwood longbow.

Three weapons is all Xoch needs, he says.  He also claims to have felled over 200 men.  Though, Xoch has always been known to exaggerate things.

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Now that Xoch is gone, Taaras decided he wanted to show off the Taarasian flag, so here it is:

~The WordWeaver

Land Of Charactoria: And a Poem by Reesent of Bluugard

This is the place where characters are real.

Real.

They sit, they walk,
They lounge, they talk,
They eat, they stalk.

They will do anything in their power... there is going to be a lot of trouble.  So watch out.

Of course, some villains won't be allowed on if they are too naughty - they get detention, you know.  So you'll be relatively safe, at least, until your step into the Land of Charactoria - the place where characters are creepily realistic.

So lets start this place off with bringing in a song written by Reesent of Bluugard.  This was a commonly known song in its time, but lost its popularity fell when Baarus II had Reesent of Bluugard imprisoned for making him sound a bit to warlike in the last verse - although it was true, Baarus was actually far more warlike than Reesent made him out to be.  So, without further ado and such, enjoy this odd little song.

“Good old Bressel, he never was much,

He never called anyone by their name – just such and such.

He was a man of Jersku’s pottery vessel,

Good old Bressel.

Bressel’s son was Bencee, or just Bence,

His brain didn’t make much sense,

When his son decided to throw him out,

He really did pout.

Now in came Branson,

He was crazy Bence’s son,

He was a hopeless romantic,

A romantic who was quite frankly frantic.

Baarus I and I is the last of this tale,

Always dressed in chain mail,

He was constantly ready for a fight,

You should have seen his glorious sight.

Now I hope you enjoyed my song,

Next time, please join along.”

~ Reesant of Bluugard