[Malfasar's Beer Hut] The Bar Crowd [Open!]

[Scharis]

10 Fall 511 AV Scharis pushed open the door to the Beer Hut slowly with one hand, walking into the dull din of sound coming from the customers who were arrayed throughout the building, sitting at the bar and at tables throughout the place. He wore no armor tonight, instead wearing his casual clothing for his work at the Hut. He did have one Scimitar strapped over his shoulder though. He hadn’t been here long, but he had already found out that it was good to have a weapon on you when needed. But over the scimitar’s scabbard was his lute, carefully placed along his back. Scharis smiled to Malfasar as he walked through the hut, his boots thumping steadily along the wood planking as he made his way toward the bar, “Evening, Boss! Looks like a good crowd tonight. What’s the mood tonight?” The owner of the beer hut looked around a little bit, “Well, most of ‘em seem pretty happy today. There’s a few who are a bit down on their luck though. So mix it up a bit tonight, could ya?” Scharis nodded a little, “I think I can pull that one off. Any chance for a drink?” Malfasar eyed the Eypharian a little bit, “Well, business has been up a bit more since you started playin’, so I’ll give you a drink or two on the house. Af’er that, ya start payin’” Scharis chuckled a little, “Fair enough, Boss.” Scharis waited to get his ale before he headed over to a small table in the corner that was empty, making his way past customers with a smile on his face. He took a little bit of time getting himself ready, setting the ale off to the side of the table as he took his instrument from his back. As he sat down, he worked the strings a little bit, making sure that everything sounded like it was in tune right. It took a moment to get everything right where it needed to be. As he tuned, he worked on which song he was going to start with. He wanted to make it something that would please both the happy and the downtrodden customers both. He grinned a little to himself as he settled back into the seat, situating the instrument in his lap before taking a good long drink from his mug. Once done, he cleared his throat a little bit. He wasn’t really sure why, this wasn’t a song with words to it, but at least it got a few of the patrons’ attention. And with that, Scharis slowly set off into his little tune. As soon as he started playing, more of the people looked over toward him. It was still a little odd for them to see the man playing his lute in the bar. He had started not that long ago so many of the patrons, at least the regulars, were still getting used to seeing him here. The passer-by merchants just thought it odd for such a small place to have a minstrel on hand to play for the guests. Scharis didn’t care either way for it. He was being paid to play here for whoever was here, so he would always play and sing his best when he was here, liven up the place when needed or sometimes mellow out a rowdy crowd with somber music. He was working on his skills while making a few coin at the same time. Granted, most times the coin that he made was paid back in his bar tab, but it was well worth it for time spent here, talking to people, playing music, and getting out of the inn for the night. Scharis’s fingers slowly started to glide over the strings of the instrument, picking out the notes for the music in turn. He used both of his right hands to pluck the strings while only his lower left hand moved over the frets of the neck gently as he played the song. He was definitely glad to have multiple arms. It made playing the instrument that much easier for him. He looked over the crowd as he played to make sure that the people were enjoying the music so far. He always watched their faces when they looked over to him, trying to discern their appreciation, or lack thereof, for what he was playing. It was a tricky task, but he was getting much better at it each night. He was starting to get used to things around here, as he worked on getting better at his music. Current Song : Song: Irish Trot

[Solomus Revon]

Solomus hardly understood some of the decisions he made. Something crazy should've happened for this follower of Rhysol to end up in Malfasar's Beer Hut, but he was really just following a rumor he had heard on the street. The merchant swore on his mother's grave that there was a man there playing the lute, and he had four arms! Solomus didn't really believe the man's so called fact, but he needed to learn to follow leads. And if nothing came out of this four-armed musician, atleast he would get drunk enough to wash away the failure. Solomus adjusted the warhammer hanging at his belt, making sure his topknot was behind him, and stepped through the door. The small bar was filled with merchants and Ravok citizens, most listening to a four-armed man play the lute. Solomus hadly let emotion show his mask, but his eyes bulged slightly. But it wasn't because of the man himself. He had heard of men with multiple arms, but they lived in the desert far away. Why was one all the way in Ravok? Solomus took his attention off of the man playing the lute, and headed over to an open table. He shifted the handle of his hammer so he could sit properly. Crossing his arms, and planting his feet in the chair beside him, Solomus listened to the music, enjoying it even though it couldn't be determined by the scowl that was always on his face. It was good, but Solomus was more interested in how the man played. Well that and the hilt of a sword poking above his shoulder. This man was a fighter, but how good. While the man played, he scanned the crowd, looking at each patron in turn. When the man passed over Solomus, he uncrossed his arm and patted the chair his feet was resting in. A simple gesture. Come over here when you'd like. Once he was sure the musician saw him, Solomus returned to his original position. Now he waited. Waited as he listened to the man's trot.

[Scharis]

The music was going over well, it seemed. No one was grumbling loudly at him yet. There had been more than once that a patron hadn’t like a song so much that they’d openly told him to what was it? “Petch off with your little string box”? Something along those lines anyway. It had almost turned ugly before Malfasar got the man to settle down. But there hadn’t been any problems in the last few days at least. Scharis was beginning to know who to handle the audience when he needed to, so that made things that much smoother. The Eypharian reached over with his free hand as he continued on, picking up te mug next to him once more and taking another drink without even having to pause in the notes as they sang from the instrument. He smiled to himself a little bit. If only he had been born with six arms. He’d have been able to play two of them at the same time, or two different instruments at once. It would have been much more impressive, maybe even getting him a bit more pay. But as it was, he made due. Scharis’s eyes continued to scan over the people in the small bar as he played, his gaze perking up as each new person came, or one of the patrons left. There was a steady flow through the place tonight, good business. That meant a good night’s pay for him. That was what mattered. But one person too his interest more than the others. The other patrons were all average looking merchants. Many with assorted weapons and such about themselves for defending their lives and goods during travel. But this newcomer looked very different. He was a might bit taller than most and his hair was definitely different, a high, well kept, topknot adorning his scalp. Scharis shrugged it off for a moment, looking back down as he continued on for a few moments. At his next glance around the room, the minstrel caught the eyes of the newcomer on him and watched as the man, wordlessly, offered him a seat over at the bar. Scharis nodded a little to him before he looked back down to the lute, finishing the last few notes as the song ended. With that, Scharis stood, bowing to the patrons for a second, even if no one clapped at all, before picking up his mug and walking over to the chair that the man had offered him. He walked over, resting the instrument against the side othe bar carefully before taking a seat in the proffered chair and looking over to the man with the top knot, “Good evening, Sir. The name is Scharis, what can I do for you? Care for a drink? I hope my playing hasn’t offended you. I’ve been doing so well the last few days.” He chuckled a bit as he leaned forward in the chair against the bar. As he sat in the chair, the scabbard bearing his scimitar was clearly visible. The scabbard didn’t look like too much, some nice tooling on the leather skin of it and nice silverwork along the edged and banding, but still rather simple. It was a bit innocuous when sheathed.

[Solomus Revon]

Solomus had seen some crazy sights before in Ravok, but none so hysterical as this musician strum the lute with three arms while he drank from his mug with the fourth. That nearly made Solomus chuckle, but his face never changed from his scowl. He wasn't angry. But this man didn't know that. The man didn't do anything but nod to acknowledge Solomus' question. So Solomus listened to the soothing music as he waited. It truly was a good song, a nice relief to the yelling of his commander. The tunes died down slowly, and the four-armed man made a slight bow to sparse clapping by the ones who were still conscious or not drowning in ale already. The man made sure to have his ale as he walked over to where Solomus rested. Solomus moved his feet so the man could sit himself. But this man took his time, resting his lute up against the table. And even when he sat, he scanned over Solomus, summing him up. A big man with a big hammer was the usual assumption, but for all he knew, this guy could have different thoughts. But the man's tone hinted no hostility, as he greeted himself as Scharis. He also seemed worried about how he thought about his playing was, and if it offended the follower of Rhysol. Solomus shook his head. "It was good music, Scharis." The name felt weird rolling off his tongue. He truly was foriegn. "But even if I didn't like it, I wouldn't tell you that. Not when you could play that instrument and wield that sword of yours at the same time. But I think I can drink with you. Barmaid, get me a mug of ale!" Solomus turned to the bar so they could see who said it, and turned back to find Scharis leaning over so his sword was visible. The scabbard was sturdy, with good silverwork and tooling on it. But you never used the scabbard in battle. Only the sword itself. While he waited for his ale, Solomus turned to Scharis. Blunt could be used to describe Solomus' questioning, and he was nothing but straight-forward. "No offense to you, but what race are you? I seen ugly, evil, and feminine men, but never one with four arms." The barmaid brought Solomus his mug, and took a sip of it. Not as strong as Silver Silvers, but still good enough. But he didn't want to be too drunk. Questioning was always better sober. But did he really want to know much about this man?