Rea Family/Dancer/Lost Tales

This is a collection of Lost RP from Dancer, and while it is "cannon", there is little or no context to them.

*This has been found to be a response to the Founding of Heralds

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer was holding court when it happened. He was sitting behind a small desk; finishing paperwork on the last grievance, another peasant complaining about the People's Militia. For the hundredth time that day, he tried to clean his ears with his fingers; the incomprehensible whistling stubbornly continued. Dancer sighed; he had attempted to get his men to find the source of the sound, with no luck. His men claimed to not be able to hear it, and Dancer couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. He had held court to get his mind off it. As he went to command the next peasant brought in, the whistle suddenly went from a low hiss to a screech. The sudden rise was accompanied by a spike of pain that drove right through Dancer's brain. He began to writhe, toppling from his chair, and curling up into fetal position between the desk and the wall. His guards rushed over, trying, in vain, to help. As the pain mounted, Dancer curled tighter, clasping his head so hard his fingers were turning white. The guards were shouting, unsure of the course of action that wouldn't get them punished. Abruptly, Dancer let out a short animalistic howl, and went limp. The ground began to shake, and the guards fell about like bowling pins. Black clouds were visible though the window looking out to Ete City. The wild dog packs howled; the horses brayed and kicked. Then, as soon as it had started, it stopped. Complete silence enveloped the countryside, with nary an insect buzz.

Dancer Rea