A fresh start

[The_Muffin_Man]

Seaors goes aboit carousing with the guys, drinking and gamblijg and such. However he makes sure to keep an eye on Brax in case he needs to make a break for it.

[LittleLuna]

Vee walks on to Drake "I wonder what makes you think that we eat lion for breakfast . Nobody eats meat for breakfast..." she says confused. "We eat lion for dinner!

"So tell me, what is the idea behind making a party exact this day? There are 346 other days in year, why do you choose today?" Vee tries to whisper. (Tries, cause she whispers in her drunkenness not much quieter then normal speaking...) "If you had seen Amons face" she giggles "he was a little bit furious... so you can find your message on bottom of the ocean."

[Jenara]

Brax moves up towards Drake with a cautious glance. Amons reaction was still weighing on her mind.

"Indeed, some might think you are trying to compete, which couldn't possibly be true." she keeps Kim in sight, just in case.

[Robbo]

Gunter hangs back from the 'serious' conversation between the group and Drake. He is having a good time with Searos and the other townsfolk and knows all too well that things are going to get serious again in the morning as soon as they all board that ship.

[Stik]

Martin raises an eyebrow, then smiles at Vee. "Breakfast, my dear, being traditionally a light and simple meal, to say that one eats lion for breakfast suggests the possibility of eating something even more formidable for later on. Like maybe bulette. Or dragon. 'Twas a compliment.

"And why tonight?." Martin says, quietly, so that only Vee and Brax can hear. "Well, it came to my attention that the militia hadn't been invited to your victory bash, despite having been instrumental in said victory. I thought they deserved a party of their own, and thought it best to hold it concurrently, so as to distract them and keep them from catching wind of the one they hadn't been invited to. Can you imagine what might have happened had a bunch of irate and slightly inebriated guardsmen shown up at the boat party, feeling unappreciated and insulted at having not been invited? It could have been hideous."

Martin's face takes on a serious, almost solemn expression. "That Amon was angry is unfortunate. I had hoped that he, like you, might appreciate the opportunity to carouse with the militia, establish solidarity, offer gratitude and appreciation for them, and let them know he does not take for granted that they risk their lives on a daily basis for the people of this town. After all, we might need them again some day. And what if they were to hesitate out of pique. But I suppose his dislike of me has blinded him to the message. 'Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true."

Martin turns to address Brax, again smiling. "Competing? Not a bit. Does the eagle compete with the lion? Or the bear with the shark? Does the ferret compete with the feral gnome? All are fierce predators, indeed, but all have their own niche. Mine is making sure that people have a good time, forget the bad stuff, and remember the really good stuff," his voice drops, so that only Brax can hear. "Even if the really good stuff is only kind of good.
"The right words can make the difference between a hero and a could-have-been. And I keep the right words in my back pocket. It's kind of my job."

Martin gestures to Tel for another two of whatever drink he had snagged moments before. "You've got to try one of these. I have not a frakking clue what it is, but it is delicious. I think there's rum in it."

[Jenara]

"You speak flowery words with little content." Brax replies, shaking her head at the drink. "Red wine, the best, one glass, I have a boat to catch in the morning."

"We did not ask the Militia, nor did we not ask them, rather they could have come, if they wanted, Constable Petterson was aware." With that she grabs Vee's hand, "Come, let us dance." Brax pulls her to an empty area of the floor (assuming the music is still playing) and starts to dance.

[Stik]

Martin looks at Brax as she turns. If she's dancing, it'll be to the music in her own head. He's the only musician playing tonight.

"I did not invite you here to argue with you, Radiance. Tonight is supposed to be a happy occasion. so in the spirit of fun, I will offer you a game. If you win, I shall buy you that glass of fine wine and play you whatever tune you wish to hear, so that you may dance with my friend Vee. But if I win, you'll take the rum drink, fair enough?

"I propose a brief, friendly theological debate. Surely you're up to the task of debating theology with a clown, neh?"

[Jenara]

(I did say if the music was still playing, as its not she won't be dancing!)

"A Theological debate?" Brax eyes him curiously, "I wonder what you know of such things..?" Glancing behind, hoping that Amon chose to arrive afterall.

"What I pray is your game? Clown?" Her fingers go to her symbol, stroking it softly.

[Stik]

[OOC]@ Jen re: music – just messing with you. [/OOC]

“What do I know of such things? Well, much and more, for though it may come as a surprise, Radiance, I am a fool by occupation, not by defect. And my ‘game’ is what it usually is: to make life more entertaining, for myself and those around me.”

Martin steels himself for the debate, running lines in his head. As a youth, throughout his catechism at the hands of a string of pompous priests, his incisive wit had prompted him to question their dogma at every turn, undermining their arguments and exposing the contradictions. It hadn’t earned him any goodwill from the clergy, but it had freed up his afternoons as the priests banished him from the room, lest his attitude infect his cousins. The practice typically culminated in a game he liked to call “Stump the Father,” as in: “Hey, Father: if a god is all-powerful, can He make a rock so big that even He Himself can’t lift it?” Every resulting apoplectic priest was a feather in the young man’s hat.

“Shall we begin?
“The Shining One blesses us with His radiant sunlight. And we, the faithful, as is right and fitting, offer Him prayers of thanks, do we not?

“And yet His light also shines down upon the infidel, who is too ignorant to thank Him for it, and upon the monster, who does not want it, and upon the empty sea, where there is no one to give thanks for it. Yet still He shines it there, with no one giving thanks, as He would do here, if we were to neglect our prayers of gratitude.

“So clearly the act of gratitude is about the recognizing one's good fortune, not about the provider of said benefits demanding gratitude for doing what he does. Therefore, it is right and fitting that the faithful should express gratitude humbly, regardless of the reason or source of their good fortune, is it not?”

[Jenara]

"Pelor accepts our prayers willingly, he does not ask for them. He shines down on all of Greyhawks creatures, good or evil, he asks us to aid them, to offer them support because they all need it." Brax responds after a few moments, "Thus I do not believe he asks for gratitude.

"Those who do not deserve his light, or ask for it simply haven't felt his love. I came to this world of light and color, the sun burning my eyes, I was mad with pain, and Pelor saved me, I give him love." She adds, the Clown was... well he was a clown, he was mocking her.

[The_Muffin_Man]

Searos passes by with two mugs of ale, both of which are clearly his with a card on his forehead showing the face of it to anyone who can see it. He listens for a moment before declaring "Boooooooring" and continues off after a wench who has caught his eye.

[Stik]

"The entertainment shall resume in a short while, Searos. Try not to pass out before that, or you shall miss it."

Martin sounds earnest, and, for a change, dead serious. "I am so sorry to hear of your ordeal, good lady. I had never considered how the transition to this world might affect one such as yourself. But on the plus side, a painful experience can transform us, and make us stronger, as the kiln does the clay. Except not so breakable, so perhaps my analogy is not entirely accurate. Better to say, perhaps, like the iron ingot and charcoal that come together in flame to become a steel sword - stronger and yet more resilient than the iron, and shaped to a defined purpose. Does that work? Good. But I digress. Let us return to the matter at hand." Martin pauses, looks up, thinking, his eyes moving back and forth as if reading, then returning to make eye contact with Brax.

"So it would seem, at this point, that we are in agreement that it is appropriate to offer gratitude for what gifts we receive, even if the one who provided them does not require that we do so, yes?"

[Jenara]

"So it would seem." Brax agrees. "I offer him gratitude every day. In fact I need to do so very soon."

[Stik]

"It would, wouldn't it.

"So we do not ask the Shining One for his light, yet still He provides it, and for that we offer gratitude, though he does not demand it. And the act of expressing gratitude for the benefits we receive is simply the right thing to do, even though our benefactor may have made the choice to help us without being asked, yes?

"I wonder: have you seen a parallel circumstance anywhere in the world of late? Perhaps a few days ago? In a dark place?" Martin looks at the Tel and points to his glass, gesturing for another of the same.

[Jenara]

"I understand your line of questioning Master Drake, I put it to you that you are not in fact trying to argue Theology, but rather you are making a rather convoluted point to say we should thank the good people of the Militia." She gives a deep frown, her elven eyes burning into him.

"There was never any doubt that we should thank them. I myself offered my sincerest thanks to Constable Petterson." She glances at the woman a moment. "We thanked them when the job was done, and were told that no thanks were needed, such is the way with such people.."

"If that is all?" She asks, going to stand.