(rp) A Musical Dilemma

Hello forums! I am blasterdud97, an adventurer here on Wynn who has taken a fair interest in casual writing and blacksmithing/shopkeeping here on the forums. The character I portray is a warrior who is studying to become a blacksmith and open his own shop - named Jeff.

Slight backstory; Jeff was originally a stick figure in a comic strip series I developed back in 6th grade... I am currently 20 now. Needless to say, this character (whom has evolved to look and act much like myself) is who I use for RP and other in-game necessities for Wynn. That being said, this story is a transition into The Red Iron Forge; a shop that will be run by Jeff. I plan to have today's music playing through the walls of The Red Iron Forge, much like how surround sound would amplify a mechanic's shop today.

That got me thinking; how could I use today's songs with modern methods of sound projection and translate that into a fantasy world? TL:DR; magic. Due to some twists of fate (described in the story), modern songs are crammed in the young blacksmith's head and won't leave him alone. I decided to use this story as a way to, yes, promote my upcoming shop, but test how I write different scenes.

Disclaimer: This was a co-op writing piece! Half of this story was written in tandem with a good buddy of mine and a fellow (fantastic) author, Katoshii. I honestly was incredibly lucky to stumble upon his writing works when I first entered Wynn a couple months ago. His descriptive writing style was so precise, it helped me 'cheat' my way through some difficult quests in the Gavel Province. His memorable characters and writing style convinced me to check out his other works, and I admire them all - so much so that I made Jeff carry around a copy of his 3 major works in his adventuring pack. It's for those long, overnight quests when you just need a break away from immanent death. Anyone else do that?

Without further ado, I proudly present the works of Blasterdud97 and Katoshii:

A Musical Dilemma
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Nemract; a small port town just off the North-Western coast of the Wynn Province. Every day, sailors from around the world docked at one of the many stations to import goods into the province in hopes of fortune. There was one night every week, however, when many sailors gathered in the Nemract Bar to share two things: Nemract Whiskey and good stories. This particular Saturday night was quite cool, the waves gently sloshed against the harbor as an old face returned to it's dock. The gentle tapping of his metal grieves against the wooden floorboards cut through the stillness of the night. At least, that's the only sound he could hear from the Western entrance of town. That, and the unfamiliar music that cursed his head.

Jeff is not from Wynn... or Gavel. He arrived in Wynn with someone who would later leave him, but his former practice as an apprentice blacksmith and thirst for adventure kept him afloat. He began in Wynn as a Warrior, with no recollection of the life he'd lived before his apprenticeship; and he could have sworn he was from another time. His clothing he remembered wearing as a child, and even a teenager, were much different than the robes displayed before him on the villagers he passed by.

These thoughts of the past drew a knot in his stomach, tensing his upper back. Jeff rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug away this feeling. He felt his trusted spear clank around on his back as his breastplate moved with him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the music that now plagues his thoughts had been from his past. He remembered each of these songs by heart, sometimes finding himself singing tunes which he couldn't name. It was infuriating; to have these uncontrollable desires to concentrate on songs that were out of his control? On top of that, songs he couldn't name? There was one plausible solution; either find someone who could point him to a cure in the Nemract Bar, or drink away every last song.

“I hope I don't get too drunk that I lose my hammer,” Jeff grumbled to himself, sliding a gauntlet-plated hand over his right hip, grazing the engraved handle of his blacksmith hammer. He was quickly reminded of his new master blacksmith, who'd given it to him. “she'd kill me.” He could already see it now; those gray eyes of hers bursting into hellish flames as she'd plant her palm swiftly across his face. Jeff grit his teeth slightly at the thought, as if preparing to accept a slap at that moment. He sighed, “I'll be careful.” He promised to the night sky. The young warrior removed his helmet, exposing his short golden hair to the bright moonlight above. The wind picked up as he did so, sending a cool breeze over his head.

It'd been a long, painful, musically-tortured journey from his house and future shop in Ragni; but as the weary traveler began to pick up the melodic sound of stringed instruments, drums, and the rowdy laughter of sailors, he knew his trip was well worth it.

The warrior stepped into the bar and a wave of hard liquor and beer filled his nostrils. An elf behind the bar cleaned glasses with a white rag, his ears pierced with several golden rings. A duo of rogues were seated in a far table who were arguing while having an arm wrestling battle. To his left, a mage twirled her staff in the air and several cubes of ice puffed into her glass filled with a dark red wine. The shouts of sailors at the front bar mixed with the conversations of the other patrons felt cozy to Jeff, as if he felt a tug of a memory. He tucked his helmet under his left arm, a hardy grin painted his face as he delighted in his surroundings. He approached a wooden board with multiple papers tacked onto it, describing jobs and errands that certain individuals were seeking. One caught his eye. An 'Arcanist' had just arrived to the city of Detlas and had set up his shop there. Perhaps he could help Jeff with this musical predicament he was in.

Suddenly, the conversations of the sailors turned to shouts and the sound of glass cracking pierced his ears. Instinctively throwing his helmet on in the adrenaline rush of danger, the warrior whirled around and saw the two rogues from before now engaged in a fist fight, the bartender rushing forwards in hope of diffusing the situation. The sailors at the bar thought a little rough-housing wouldn't hurt and one decided to throw a glass in the newcomer's direction. Jeff ducked as the glass collided into an old painting, spitting a slew of curse words under his breath. Through the corner of his eye, he caught the culprit; a villager tattered in rugged gray clothing. His rather large nose contorted in a drunken laughter as he folded his arms, displaying the several tattoos he'd collected over his years at sea.

“What's the matter, boy,” the geezer snorted from his place amongst the chaos, “you look as though you've seen the ghost of Bob! You humans are all the same,” he smirked, displaying his cracked and crooked teeth, “you're all talk until the slightest ounce a' danger shows up!” He stumbled his way to Jeff, who'd already grown tense under the situation. The sailor approached him, placing a hand on his recently polished chestplate, giving him a shove with whatever strength he could muster.

Jeff reeled back slightly, caught off guard by the instigation risen from this poor slob. Regaining his footing, Jeff reached his left hand around and snatched the drunkard by his wrist, ripping it away from his chest. “One chance, ya filthy squid,” Jeff growled, rapidly losing his patience and temper, “Keep your salty sea grimes off me.”

In retort, the sailor began to hack up saliva and mucus – that was the last straw.

With a violent yank, Jeff pulled the geezer in, stepping into a solid punch to his jaw with his right hand. A clean connection sent the poor goon out in one hit. Satisfied with his encounter, Jeff looked up to his surrounding bar fight. Turns out this sailor came tonight with some buddies. 3 other villagers, equally as rough around the edges, rose from their seats. Two were unarmed, but one grabbed his bottle of whiskey and wielded it like a club. Jeff couldn't make out what these 'gentlemen' were saying, but by the way their throats strained to bark at him, he was certain it wasn't a friendly greeting.

Stepping over their fallen comrade, Jeff took a stance, propping his fists up in front of him as his new brawlers. The first of them confronted Jeff, confident in his slight size advantage over Jeff. He was about an inch or so taller, but he was much bulkier. Jeff slid under a hard right hook, throwing himself into a punch to the man's armpit, then stomach. The sailor keeled over at the sensation of his lungs collapsing on him. Jeff planted his metal gauntlets behind his head and brought a plated knee up to his forehead; pushing the larger of the group away from him after this strike. The first of the drunkards stumbled back, crashing into an old wooden table, breaking it in two.

The next of them jumped in. He was rather quick, able to land a few jabs to Jeff's cheeks, ribs, and once clipping him on the shoulder. In an all-out attack, Jeff leaped for his opponent, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and shoving him into the wall behind them. He landed a few hard punches before grabbing the goon by the arm and sending him back into the chaos in one wild throw. Jeff barely had enough time to dodge the frantic swing of the last sailor. A split second later and Jeff's skull would have had an unfortunate meeting with a whiskey bottle.

His adrenaline rose to an all-time high of the night. He saw the potential for a lethal outcome against his favor, so he drew his spear. Jeff sent a couple swift jabs at his new dancing partner, causing him to retreat backwards. With a swift twirl of his weapon, Jeff crashed the head of his spear into the bottle, shattering it into hundreds of shards. Dazed from the sudden loss of his weapon and the ear-shattering crash of a broken bottle, the sailor's gaze fixed itself upon the bottle. He never saw the butt of Jeff's spear collide between his eyes, sending him into a well-deserved sleep.

Jeff replaced his spear upon his back. The fight about him seemed to be calming down, so perhaps now was the best time to escape? He made his way toward the door, unaware that the mage from earlier had been preparing an incantation for a target of her choosing. Unluckily for the warrior, that was now him.

In a puff of smoke, she disappeared from her original position to align herself a few paces behind the warrior, who was near the door. Holding her hands out in front of her, she unleashed her spell, sending a concussive blast out in front of her. The force was so strong it nearly ripped the front doors off their hinges, sending Jeff barreling outside. She had great aim, this mage, as she sent Jeff tumbling perfectly down the corridor and not into any of the nearby houses.

After a rough tumble, Jeff lay on his back. He knew his helmet had flown off a few feet from him. His head reeled; a splitting headache coursed through his forehead and a violent ringing blasted in his ears... but that wasn't his immediate concern. “Wait.”he said in a jolted panic, feeling the color and heat drain from his face as he scrambled his hands along his waist. The hammer still stuck in its place, unmoved by the actions that occurred. Although still shaken, he allowed himself to relax. “Good...”

After some time to adjust to his new surroundings, Jeff climbed to his feet. “An Arcanist in Detlas, huh?” He asked aloud, trying to find some clarity to his curiosity. “Perhaps he's the cure I've been searching for...” Taking out a pocket-sized saddle from his satchel, he tossed it in front of him and the saddle began to shudder. With a flurry of smoke, a chestnut horse replaced the saddle and the warrior hoisted himself up into a riding position. With a flick of his silver reigns, he swiftly rode down the trail towards Detlas, hoping that this 'Arcanist' would still be there and open for him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jeff arrived in Detlas, the night sky still holding its dark beauty above him. The stars over Detlas always seemed to burn the brightest, but perhaps that was bias to his personal love of the province's capital. He made his way past identifier that sat in the middle of the town; he appeared hunched over his enchantment table, holding some item Jeff couldn't see. Whatever it was, it was omitting a baby-blue light. Jeff chuckled to himself, recounting all the times that same villager uncovered the mysteries behind several artifacts Jeff brought from quests. A few more paces through the empty, though well-lit streets displayed the bank. This wooden building wasn't incredibly large, like that of Llevigar across the ocean, but it was rather homely, and always open. Jeff knew each teller by name, by now, and would normally have stopped by if not here for personal matters.

Another song from another artist of another time danced through his memory, forming itself into words that fell out from his mouth. He shook his head, under the impression that it would remove this song from his mind... sadly, it did not. Jeff couldn't help, however, his urge to visit some of his favorite places around the capital, including the empty forge of his new master blacksmith. He made a mental note to remind her the next morning of his encounter at the Nemract Bar, and how he made every effort to keep his hammer secure.

Or perhaps, he'd let this slide past her. Decisions, decisions.

After some notable time, he discovered the location of the newest store in Detlas. 'Katoshii the Arcanist' read itself from a sign that dangled from the covered archway guarding the front door. It was a smaller, simpler shop than what Jeff imagined. However, he preferred this more humble setting. He hopped off his horse, grabbing onto its saddle and waiting for his steed to disappear back into the magic stowed within the saddle. Jeff tucked this away in his adventuring pack as he stared at the name displayed before him. This couldn't have been the same gentleman who wrote the collection of short stories Jeff kept with him?

Jeff ripped out a book from his pack. The sound of his fingers running over the leather reminded him of his last quest that crept overnight. He recalled sitting by a campfire in the middle of the swamp, peacefully reading the stories foretold by the great bard – Katoshii. His gaze traded from the sign, to his book, to the sign again. This was he. Jeff tucked his book away and traversed the steps. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle and gently pushed open the door.

The scent of herbs and old parchment filled the room as the door swung open. Behind the counter stood a man in his early adulthood, a pair of olive green earrings matched his hazel eyes and his hair looked like the color of a storm cloud. He was clothed in a hybrid of adventurer and mage gear; a simple green tunic with dark brown adventuring trousers and boots along with a quartz white cloak tied at his neck. A ruby bracelet clung to his left wrist and multiple sapphire rings draped his fingers. In his palm was an amethyst gem that shined brilliantly against the faint glow of the oil lamp, illuminating several shelves around the counter. Spellbooks and jars with multiple color and ribbon schemes were shelved with a manner of sophistication. The spellbooks emitted a faint glow of gray light as the door slowly creaked open, causing the jars to twinkle from the moonlight and highlight the reagent that was encased within them. Clearly it seemed this 'Arcanist' wasted no time in preparations; a small pouch of what seemed like gold sat beside him on the counter along with several scattered pieces of lilacs and pieces of parchment. Hearing the old door creak loudly, the 'Arcanist' turned to face the late night shopper, his hazel eyes sparking to life as he saw it was another adventurer. He gave a faint smile and twirled his hand in the air, summoning a staff in the design of a large sunflower and placed the amethyst into a socket of the wood, causing the sunflower's leaves to shift from a bright yellow to a honey gold.

Jeff swallowed his awe as another song began to rampage through his head. It wasn't a violent song, admittedly, but the chain of music never seemed to cease. He approached the shopkeeper, his sharp blue eyes cutting through the metal covering his skull. He removed his helmet upon arriving at the front desk and set it down on the floor beside his foot, as the front desk lay scattered with different herbs and spices.

“Good evening!” Jeff proclaimed, a friendly smile grazing his lips. “I have heard that you are the famous author Katoshii, who is also now known to dabble with the arcane arts? I need your help...” His voice slightly trailed off, planning how he was going to describe his predicament to another human being.

Jeff heard the door behind him gently close, creating no noise in the process. It was almost as if the wind itself has eased the door back into its original resting position.

"Ahh, an adventurer? Now what are you doing at this time of night?" The Arcanist asked, his sunflower staff radiating a honey colored glow about the room.

Feeling the overwhelming magic envelop the room, Jeff cleared his throat to make his request. “I don't really know how to explain this, but I'm not from here – from this province, this land, or even this time.” He mentally noted how this statement caused the Arcanist to narrow his eyes, as if studying Jeff in a new light. “Ever since arriving here in Wynn, I'd occasionally find songs of my 'past' lodged in my memory, and sometimes I'd begin to sing. Problem is, I have no idea what these songs are or who they're by; and why they choose to haunt me in the first place. They're catchy, but nonetheless have taken over my cognitive thought, and it's driving me crazy...! Over the last few days, it's been constantly one song after another, and I figured I'd head to the Nemract Bar to find a cure of some kind – and through a strange twist of fate, that led me here.” As Jeff's last words spilled into the air, he began to grow nervous as the Arcanist observed him. After what seemed like a lifetime, the hazel eyes smiled back.

“My, my, that is quite the situation you have there! It's actually quite fascinating;” he began pacing back and forth within the confines of his front desk, lost in his wonder, “music, trapped within the broken memories of an adventurer! You are a walking story, my man!” He grinned again, granting himself a few glorious moments of laughter.

Jeff smiled in return. Perhaps this did sound like something one would read out of a book, and it was quite ridiculous. “So, Katoshii, I'm not really sure what to ask for. Perhaps somewhere to dumb all these songs into, or something to wear to confine these memories so that I can project them about me.”

Something lit up within Katoshii's eyes, as if a several lights clicked in his head. He tapped his finger on the bud of his sunflower staff, lost in thought. He then returned his gaze to Jeff, a cheeky smile spread wide across his face. “Or both.”

“What do you - ”

Before Jeff could finish, his instincts kicked in as he ducked to dodge a flying spellbook that nearly clocked him on the back side of his head. A gust swept through the shop, picking up only certain items the Arcanist had sent for. Scrolls unrolled their bindings and papers clustered around the legs of the Arcanist as he held out his hand, a look of fierce concentration was cemented on his face as he uttered an incantation in a low murmur. When a burgundy spellbook with silver colored pages landed in his hand, he ceased his muttering and began to flip through the spellbook, occasionally glancing up to meet the adventurer's bewildered gaze. "Hmm...I haven't done any sort of magic like that before, but there's a first for anything." Before the warrior could summon a phrase or comment, the Arcanist held out his staff above the spellbook and began to read off of the spellbook. A faint gray circle with intricate swirls and sharp edges appeared to materialize within the floorboards as the Arcanist spoke. Jeff was again stunned by these acts the Arcanist was doing, but quickly snapped himself back into reality. He wasn't going to let his mind wander somewhere else. This was crucial to him. When the Arcanist finished his chanting, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a basic golden necklace with a gem socket in the middle. He took off the amethyst gem from his staff and placed the gem beside his spellbook. "Are you ready? Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

Jeff took this into a quick consideration, but all bets were off now. If this didn't work, nothing would. He nodded. "Let's get started."

The Arcanist gave a curt nod and began to chant in a soft whisper. A fog grew around the room and Jeff felt as if he was getting more and more dizzy as the Arcanist spoke. Before he knew it, the adventurer felt himself slip into a deep sleep and fell backwards from where he stood.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The birds were chirping happily as Jeff slowly woke up. He growled at the sunlight that bloomed happily from the window; several clouds dotted the sky as he looked through a small stained glass window with a scene of heroes on horses riding across a valley. He looked around from where he sat; He was still in the middle of the Arcanist's shop, but was wrapped in a blue and gray crescent blanket. Confused, he slowly stood up and took several steps towards the counter before the Arcanist entered through an open doorway behind him.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would awaken. I believe I have your little trinket right here." The man held out the same golden necklace but the amethyst inside of the gem socket swirled with multiple puffs of color. Astonished, the warrior grabbed the necklace and felt a serene flute and violin play within his mind. He instantly let go of the necklace. Was it done? How did the Arcanist cast such a ritual?

Before Jeff could ask any questions, the Arcanist placed the necklace around him and smiled as it hung fittingly around his neck. “A true masterpiece. Geez, I've really outdone myself his time!” He noted, smiling to himself. This was proof that he was taking great strides in his craft. He quickly snapped, remembering something he forgot to add. He turned from Jeff and began scrambling through one of his shelves.

“So not to be rude, but how do I use this new charm you've created?” Jeff questioned, trying to look over Katoshii's shoulder to see what he was trying to grab.

As if on command, the Arcanist found what he was looking for; a large book with a pure white cover. He returned to his customer before taking one final glance at the book. Frowning, he pursed his thumb over his middle finger and flicked the leather cover. Before their eyes, a large, black-printed musical note appeared on the cover. Satisfied, the Arcanist handed Jeff the book. “That necklace is now soulbound to you, meaning that only you can wear and use it. When you wear that amulet, any song that you want completely swept from your thoughts can be planted within the blank pages of this book.” He added, tapping on the cover of the book for emphasis. “If you want to play whatever is on your mind, just place your hand on the cover and you can send your thoughts anywhere around you at whatever volume you prefer! If you put a song on a page, place your hand on that page and you can summon that song up to your surroundings for your personal enjoyment! Think of it as carrying around several bands in your pocket!”

Jeff's mouth slightly hung open in shock. This almost seemed too good to be true. Thunder. That's what he thought of. Jeff placed his hand over the cover and heard it – the powerful boom of thunder shook the walls of the Archanist's shop, rattling everything attached to the walls. Nothing fell, luckily.”

“Whew!” The Archanist sighed in relief. “Be careful what you do with that, as there might be unforseen consequences. This is tapping into your mind, mind you!”

Jeff nodded, respectfully. He reached into his bag; a bottle of a thick, green liquid sparkled in the morning light. “I think a liquid emerald should cover the cost!” Jeff stated with a determined grin.

“Oh, that won't be necess - ”

“I insist! After all the trouble you cured me from and the future delight you will cause for me and my store, you've definitely earned your pay!”

The Arcanist smiled, aware that there was no way of using his modesty to lower the price. He gladly accepted the payment.

Jeff nodded solemnly, making his way for the door after shaking Katoshii's hand and waving him as he headed for the door. However, at the last second before reaching the exit, he reached into his traveling bag, pulling out three books. A sheepish smile painted his face.

“Hey, can you also sign these?”


END

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I'll keep this part short;

Katoshii's profile: https://forums.wynncraft.com/members/katoshii.71185/

Thank you all for reading! I will keep this forum post open for reactions, discussions, suggestions, etc. :) If you want to respond as your own RP character, I shall respond as Jeff; and I might even include music!

 

This was an absolutely marvelous piece to work on!!! I was very excited when Blast started a conversation with me on the forums. He's an incredible writer and person in general, so I'm thankful to put in a part in this story! I enjoyed this whole experience, so props to you Blast for sparking yet another creative adventure & work of art. :)
From myself as well, I hope you readers enjoyed the story!! There may be more to come... ;)

Merry Writings!!

~Katoshii

 

oh knuckles another rp

 

I recommend giving it a read! Perhaps I should have labeled it as 'Story', 'Lore', or something of that nature. :)

 

Fixed it for ya!

 

"Muh name's Yeff"