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Muzzle · 04-06-2006 01:19 AM

I think we could handle a bit of corruption if it meant you guys joining. Icon_biggrin

Muzzle · 12-15-2006 07:45 AM

oc - This is another IC recruiting message, because I'm a gigantic dork.

"Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me; 'Where's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag?', 'You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!'"

The music is by no means deafening (a bard of MUZZLE's caliber would have a hard time being such), but it's entirely audible and, by the sound of it, you aren't the only one hearing it. Should you choose to pursue its source, you're likely to happen upon the bard himself--though the path to him is...well, nonexistant. A crowd has gathered around the bard; some nod their head, others tap their feet, still others stand motionless - though all the assembled townspeople are transfixed by the minstrel's jovial song.

"Up jumped the swagman, leapt into the billabong. 'You'll never take me alive!' said he. And his ghost may be heard as you pass by the billabong. 'Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?'"

As well as any piper ever led a child, MUZZLE's pronounced beat of his lute entices the rest of the audience to suddenly come to life and call out the chorus with him--likely startling the newcomers.

"Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me; and his ghost may be heard as you pass by the billabong, 'Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?'"

With a final arpeggio, the song ends and the crowd thunders in rapturous applause. MUZZLE stands and dips in a flourishing bow. When he rises, the bard's eyes meet yours briefly and he makes a motion for you to stay--while the rest of the crowd makes their exit, mood brightened by the impromptu street-performance. None offer him monetary compensation, and, from the looks of his fine clothing and instrument, it's doubtful he asks for it.

"'allo!" he calls once within polite talking distance, hurrying the last few steps to stand in front of you. "Right, then." A clearing of the throat. "From the looks of ya, I do believe ye may be able to 'elp me out. See, I'm..." He searches for the proper terminology here. "...I guess ye could call me the 'voice' of me guild. What guild y'ask?" Despite their being no question. "Why, none othah than th' famous Angel Empire!"

He pauses for effect, letting the notion sink in. "...only we really ain't quite so famous anymore. See, we've been...well, rathah crippled by inactivity, so to speak. People leavin' us for bluer seas, greener pastures. But I c'd see that changin' with your help." A sly, chaste wink. "We's a fine bunch, us lot, if not a li'l...proud. Some of us are a mite hasty to draw the swords when a good bit of talkin' is all that's in ordah." Another pause.

"We do look out for our own, though. We'll set'cha up right nice, offah ye what we have -- which is quite a lot, actually -- and in retuhn, all we ask if loyalty. Do what ye can ta help us out, be nice, and don't encourage the bard." He strikes a burlesque pose, indicating himself. "If ya interested, do look me up. MUZZLE's tha name. Also keep an eye out for a paladin by tha name of Kaede, and our beloved leader, the ominipotent Alexander. They'd be more than willin' to 'elp."

"This is a hard time for us, deah warrior," he intones, suddenly serious. "If ye can find it in yer 'eart, and if ya'd dig the companionship of a nice buncha blokes, do gives us a shout, eh? Bring us back to our former glory." Before an answer can be reached, however, the bard has disappeared.

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By all that, I mean Angel Empire's recruiting again. Our only requirements are general niceness, and at least a basic grasp of the English language. And, as always, PM one of us or catch us in game to get recruited. Ignore the rumors. We're nice guys. = )