Open The Thrills of A Bard's Life

[Nanuk]

Winter 1, early morning, AV 513

Thunk Thunk

"Wake yourself, Nanuk. There's work to be done!"

The dreary-eyed Vantha rubbed open weary gray eyes, looking about the tavern trashed by the patrons. Goblets lay overturned, with ale staining the floor. Bits of food were scattered and crunched into the wooden floor from the heavy steps that squished them. Thankfully, his kettle drum was unharmed.

"I meant to walk home to my room last night," he drowsily mentioned, rubbing at his eyes as he composed himself for the new day with a slight hangover.

"Ye'weren't gonna be moving, lad," she stated matter of factly, gathering all the tankards. "You wound them too rowdy last night. They got any more excited, might have had knights to deal with!"

Nanuk frowned, eyes shifting to a gentile blue. "Miss Marybeth, did they not buy more drinks than normal last night?"

"Ya, they sure drank more. But they left the place a mess. Ye'can work on cleanin' it up."

Navy orbs shifted near purple, widening like a doe's. "Wouldn't you rather your new bard got some rest to help keep your customers entertained tonight? Surely some rest would - "

Her sharp face did not change; his face fell flat. "Ye'er pushin' your luck, Nanuk. Those rainbow eyes of yours don't work on me." Without a second word, she pushed a broom in his hand. "Now go oot there, and sweep the mess from the floor off the steps. We're openin' in not half the day. Y'can sleep before your performing later t'night!"

He frowned extra hard in hopes she would feel bad. She didn't. Submitting a sigh, he grabbed the broom, and began the work, sulking his wide shoulders. When he imagined traveling the world to become the greatest bard and storyteller in all of Mizahar, he didn't think he would be brushing out dirt from a hole-in-the-wall tavern of working men. On the bonus side, he could make up most tunes, and good or bad, the men were drunk enough to roll with it.

But still, he missed Alvadas. He remembered fondly that song his father sent him, of Ionu tricking a man into falling in love with other men by making them appear as women. It always got him good tips in those taverns. Here it got him a stern look and a quick tune change. He felt the two silvers in his pant pocket and sighed. Some tip is better than none.

As the dust and mess began brushing out the door to the step, he began humming to feel something in his nose other than the stench of the city. He tried to think of that tune his mother once sang to him when times weren't easy.

Morwen, mother, Queen of Winter,
Shield your child from scorn we pray,
Lord of Legends, Great Bard Rhaus,
Give his story another day

He hummed it to himself, filling in a word here and there in Vani. As the sun lifted, so did the shade of his eyes. There is hope still. He sat out on the step, freshly cleaned, and just watched others go by, waiting for a face with a story to jump out at him.

[Eada Vine]

Eada put down her fiddle case and pulled off her gloves. There was a chill in the air that distinctly marked the change into Winter. It was odd to think she had been in Syliras for a whole season, but she knew she had barely started her life here. Besides, she hadn't even got a job yet. At least one that didn't involve standing on street corners, practically begging.

She sighed, her breath fogging into the cold air. Tomorrow, she thought as she picked up her fiddle and plucked the strings, checking they were in tune. The cold didn't help and she was pretty sure Winter wasn't the best time to be busking for mizas. Firstly, she almost froze to death and secondly, people were less inclined to pause and listen. But that didn't stop her. Her mother used to say her determination was both a gift and a curse and Eada was beginning to see why.

The street was just starting to get busy as she began to play and she glanced around. There was a tavern across the street, with a man outside sweeping. She hoped their customers would be able to reach into their pockets for any loose change after spending a few mizas over there. Eventually her eyes settled closed as she began to loose herself in the music. There was a rattle in her case as some passer by dropped in a miza. She opened her eyes and smiled in a silent thank you, keeping the bow moving over the strings. Once they had passed she peeked inside, but it was only half a dozen coppers. Better than nothing, she thought and closed her eyes again, focusing back on the music.

[Nanuk]

Nanuk lifted his head at the sound of a violin playing. A small woman stood ahead with a very unassuming stance, playing her violin for her money. He frowned a bit. She must be new here, still. Not that he was much better. After the first few days of playing and singing on the streets, he was almost kicked out. The only thing that saved him is Marybeth the tavern keep heard him playing outside and figured he could hold a tune and draw in more customers. He looked around the strangers passing by, and began to think of what he should do?

Tell her outright? Most likely not. Everyone knows the Knights wouldn't let you go this long pandering on the streets. She probably knows and has no other choice. As he thought longer, his eyes shifted a deep emerald green. Quickly, he put the broom inside, and grabbed his drum.

"Noo where are yoo goin'?" Marybeth demanded. He shrugged at her, and said, "Promoting the tavern for the night. I won't be long!" He skipped out the door before she could think about what he said and give him something else to do.

However, in the process he did forget his cloak, which was another mistake entirely. He rolled his sleeves down and tightened the neck of the shirt as he approached the woman playing the violin. He felt in his pocket, and took out one of the two silvers he owned, dropping it in the case. His eyes shifted a deep purple, mixed with an excited gold as he looked at her with a wink. He sat down with the drum, listening to her melody. Soon, he began adding drum beats along the rhythm, looking around to see if any others were noticing. A few more ears leaned their way, but not enough.

He kept playing the drum to the violin, but inched his eyes up to her, asking, "Milady, if you intend to keep eating in this city, we need someone to notice your talent, to want you to work for them. Before the Knights take your beautiful talent away and make you work some labor job. I can help you, but I am a singer and a drum player. I can make you look good. Do you know any songs with words for your violin, milady? Any popular ones?" His eyes fringed purple once again, balanced with a calming light grey tone in the middle.

[Danough Trema]

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Danough Trema 1st of Winter, 513 AV Syliras. The Bard is found. Secret : I come when called! In case you still wanted to introduce yourself to Nanuk, you can do so here: http://www.mizahar.com/forums/topic43572.html You can even introduce to him here if you want, seeing as he'd do anything to work somewhere exciting. Ser Danough Trema enjoyed the change of seasons more than any other time of the year. His life had been one of change: child to page, page to squire, squire to knight, and so forth. Each new season was a new chance to improve himself in some way. And Danough Trema was a man dedicated to become the best he could be, faster, stronger, and even more dedicated to the order of Syliran Knights. And so now he was out in the early morning air doing his daily run. He had started with his usual routine of stretches, sit-ups and push-ups, squats and jacks, and now he was off and running. He had spent far too much time in the autumn season riding around on his horse in full plate armor using his lance, and while that might have done wonders for his ability to navigate the Kabrin Road, and kept his arm muscles in shape, it also meant that he had neglected his leg muscles a bit and now needed to work on them. He ran past the woman with the violin once without really paying her any mind. When he was a young squire he had dated a girl who loved to play the violin, and she had broken his heart: the same way she needed to constantly play a different song or seek out a new tune, she was unable to appreciate one single heart and needed to constantly find herself infatuated with someone new. Thus the memory kept him from interacting with her in either a positive or negative way, and he focused his attention on other people in the street. On duty or off duty, a Knight was always on patrol, and so he kept his eyes peeled for trouble, knowing that this was the time of day a rogue might most chance plying his trade. An Inarta that kept glancing with guilt behind her; a little Kelvic man that was doing his best to hide in a stall's shadow, a Nuit that stood off to one side, patiently sizing up the people that passed her: these were the figures that Danough kept an eye on. He ran past the woman with the violin a second time without incident. As the street was now quiet, he gave her a glance. Brown hair. Blue eyes. She appeared to him to be of average height and perhaps a bit on the skinny side. He had no ear to tell if she was any good or not. A glance into her fiddle case as he ran by showed him that most of Syliras was also either dubious or indifferent to her talents. While he cared little for music and even less for busking, it was still better than hustling and huckstering. It was an honest effort to earn Mizas and no different than the courtly minstrels who sang for their supper. Danough decided to reward her efforts and so he doubled-back to his residence and got a few Mizas. By the time he returned, however, the violinist was accompanied by a drummer. This was a musical instrument he understood better, as any squire or knight is trained to march to the beat of a war drum. And so while Ser Danough had been going to tip the woman anyway, he decide to double the gratuity. Whereas before he was going to throw in some coppers, he now decided to put in a full silver. And then another for the drummer. And then seeing the paltry state of the donations compared to the size of the case, he also tossed in the coppers he had on him, and spread them around so that there was hopefully enough coin to seed the case and make others more inclined to donate as well. oocI will deduct 2.5 SM from my ledger once the thread is done.

[Eada Vine]

Eada opened her eyes once more as there was another rattle in her case. Unlike the last person, this man was far more interesting. It wasn't just his shifting eye colour, which Eada knew was characteristic of his race, but it was the large drum that he carried. (And that he wasn't wearing any extra clothes against the cold.) For a second, her stomach bubbled: had she stolen his spot? She hadn't meant to...

She almost stopped playing as he sat beside her, but she continued, knowing that to stop would not be good for her petty attempt at earning a few mizas. What was he doing? After a few minutes he began to play and Eada grinned. He had taken pity on her. It was both sweet and irritating; she hated the idea that he might just be playing with her because she wasn't good enough on her own. Although, what she hated more was that she knew she wasn't good enough on her own. The lack of interest only proved that.

She narrowed his eyes at the use of 'we', like they knew each other. She knew he meant it kindly, but it freaked her out slightly. The last time she had someone so immediately kind to her, she got in a bit of a sticky situation, but that was a while ago now. "That would be great," she muttered, not particularly intending for the man to hear, but not minding if he did. She would like nothing better than for someone to notice her talent and offer her a job, but it didn't seem likely. Not in a place as big as this.

She wasn't sure how she felt about him making her look good... Oh damn you, Eada. Stop being so proud, she cursed herself. "Thank you." His eyes changed colour and it made Eada smile. "I don't know many songs that can be sung with," she admitted. She had learnt the fiddle from her mother and she couldn't sing to save her life, so Eada had never tried either. Besides, it wasn't easy to talk, let alone sing, with a fiddle under your chin. "But I'm a quick learner. If you sing something, I'll be able to play it." That was a talent she had discovered back in Ravok, something that came naturally to her. She would obviously make slight mistakes, especially with a completely new song, like the wrong sharps or flats, or if it was too quick or complex, but the more she played it, the better she got.

A knight jogged by and caught her eye. He was rather handsome and Eada wondered if she had seen him before. He was probably on patrol or something, going over the same area. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins and she smiled at him, thanking him with her warm gaze, but when she saw his efforts to help her, she voiced her gratitude: "thank you," she beamed.

[Nanuk]

"That would be great,"she muttered to herself. Nanuk took that as acceptance, and did his part. He's well aware now patronizing this may come off, but he hoped she understood he had her best interests at heart. As an aspiring bard, he would hate to see another aspiring musician in a difficult place. He was glad she knew how to adapt well, though. He kept his eyes out for a person to smile at, to invite in with his eyes, currently a warm green with a merry gold fringing the pupil.

A well to do knight jogged by, without responding at first. That was better than being scolded for begging, he supposed. But he wanted to get some greater attention before there was a chance for something more troublesome to occur.

Nanuk tensed up more as he saw the knight return, eyes muddling brown some. However he tried to keep an outwardly open and happy demeanor. His suspicions were wildly wrong as the knight contributed a decent sum to the case. He remembered his time in Alvadas, how he would thank a patron who tipped him by singing impromtu verses about them. Granted, they were often drunk enough that he could get away with some poor verses, but he felt he still ought to try here. He gently raised a hand to signal to the girl that she should listen to the tune he sings so she can mimic it, trying to think of words to put together that wouldn't be offensive to the helpful man. After a moment, he drummed lightly, and sang in a short, simple melody:

Thank you dear lord knight,
For this gracious payment.
O Thank you dear lord knight,
This girl may yet not starve.

He thought for a moment on an impulse to add more verses. Perhaps a knight kind enough to offer silvers to buskers would be kind enough to know Taverns looking for entertainers. Without breaking form, he continued:

She really is a talent;
My knight, you heard her play.
She needs work in a tavern,
Somewhere to eat - somewhere to stay.

She is new here, my lord knight
Her job must hone her craft.
Her music soars, my knight,
Know you a tavern where she may ask?

It certainly wasn't his smoothest impromptu verse he's every written; It got a bit clunky on the last lines, but he was nonetheless a bit proud of it. In plus, the singing kept him from chattering his teeth, which was a rather unattractive thing to do. He really wish he didn't leave his cloak inside now, but not much to do there. He unbound his shoulder length hair so it could warm his neck, the deep purple shimmer to it flashing as he shook it slightly. Half of him hoped this knight could help the girl so he could go back inside.

[Danough Trema]

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Danough Trema 1st of Winter, 513 AV Syliras. The Thread is titled. Danough nodded at the woman playing the violin. "You're most welcome. That was rather lovely. My name is Ser Danough Trema of Stormhold. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" He then turned to the man with ever-changing eyes. He attempted to study him for a few moments, memorizing his face and features, as he had never seen another of his kind before. He'd remember if he had ever met someone with such eclectic eyes. He was still not yet as observant as he desired, but even the most oblivious man could spot goose bumps and chattering teeth. He offered the bard his cloak. "A lovely song. You'd make a great bard. And you have a very distinct appearance. Who are you, and where are you from?" Though he could not really sing, he attempted to hum the tune so he could remember it, and as he had never had a very sung about him before, he repeated it. Singing was not a skill he had ever pursued, but now that he saw the value of it, he gave it a try. He opened his mouth and hummed for a moment and gave it his best try. "Thank you dear lord knight, For this gracious payment. O Thank you dear lord knight, This girl may yet not starve." To be charitable, he got the words right. If you covered both ears and ground your teeth and made loud chewing sounds, you could agree that at least he got the words right. He sighed sadly at his own ineptitude, then suddenly snapped his fingers. "I suppose those who busk must have some ability at this craft. A few coppers more if you all can give me some pointers so I sound less like a frog with a pin stuck in his throat..." He sang another verse, though now he was already forgetting the words. "She really is a talent; My knight, you heard a tavern. Somewhere there are rainbows Her music soar her hone!" As he attempted to sing another verse, he realized that it was not just a song but that the man with the strange eyes was hinting at a potential course of action. "Hmm... a tavern? A friend of mine is dating a woman named Maryanne.. Marylou, something like that, I think she works around here. She's been looking to fire some good-for-nothing bard.... drat, I just don't know where she works. Let me think where else.... the Roaring Steed won't hire you without references and the White Swan Inn is too upscale to hire a busker." He thought about it for a few more chimes, pondering on his knowledge of Syliran history and culture. "The Herald's Arms seems to be the only place I can think of. No guarantees, but it's worth asking them if they're hiring."

[Eada Vine]

"I'm Eada," she said, closing the last few notes of her melody and giving the drummer a chance to teach her something new. She smiled as Danough offered his cloak to the other man. He began to sing. It was a sweet, simple tune and she grinned at the words and as he started the second verse, she plucked the starting note on the strings, easily following the simple up-a-step, down-a-step tune, but she didn't start to play: she wanted to listen. He was asking where she could find a job and Eada smiled. It was charming to hear the request sung rather than spoken.

Eada wasn't much of a singer, although she would love to try, the open street might not be the best place to start. That would most definitely turn customers away. "I don't sing, but in music generally, listening is as important as making noise." She grinned. "Probably in life too."

She saw as Danough understood the dummer's question and began to think. The Herald's Arms. She had heard things about that place that perhaps weren't all that encouraging, but work is work. "Thank you," she said. "I will." She glanced up the street, sure she had seen the Herald's Arms at some point in the last week. She wasn't yet all that accustomed to Syliras streets, but she would find it - eventually. She lifted up her violin and moved quickly and quietly over the notes of the bard's song - to check she had it in her head.

[Nanuk]

Nanuk was thankful the knight seemed so appreciative. The girl couldn't stop smiling at him either; He remembered how it was when you started. The first highborn or person in power to give you respect for your craft, you feel like floating on air. It didn't take long for him to accept the offered cloak, standing to include his frozen legs from sitting on the pavement. His drum, strapped to his chest, rose with him, and his thumbs played on it idly.

"A lovely song. You'd make a great bard. And you have a very distinct appearance. Who are you, and where are you from?" Nanuk bowed his head slightly, the violet shimmer of his hair catching the light. "Your praise is good flattery. I am Nanuk, and one day I will be the greatest bard you will ever know. I personally hail from Alvadas, though both of my parents, we're pretty sure, hail from Avanthal originally. The Vantha indeed have a...distinct appearance." His appearance was found interesting in Alvadas, but in a city that never stood still, with illusions always playing, it was rather normal. He forgot that the rest of the world still found such things so alienating. And that the rest of the world was used to walking the same route in the city. "I normally work at the tavern just there, but I thought to help this lovely girl with either finding better coin or finding a permanent place of residence. After all, it would be terrible for a woman of her talent to end up working labor because she couldn't find something in her craft, wouldn't you agree?"

As the knight began to sing back the words, he smiled and hoped it didn't look too painful. He found it nice that he appreciated it to the point he wanted to memorize it, but the singing was truly dreadful. Not that Nanuk's voice is really all that great either, but it can carry a tune at least. As the knight offered a few more coppers for a singing tip, he sighed and turned his now ice blue eyes up in thought.

"Try relaxing your jaw a bit," he came to. "That's the first thing my mother taught me. When we speak, we all articulate things so clearly, and tighten our jaws to do so. But we also do not need to tighten our jaws to speak properly. So when we sing, it can...jar the words. Just relax more, I suppose. Don't try so hard."

"Hmm... a tavern? A friend of mine is dating a woman named Maryanne.. Marylou, something like that, I think she works around here. She's been looking to fire some good-for-nothing bard.... drat, I just don't know where she works. Let me think where else.... the Roaring Steed won't hire you without references and the White Swan Inn is too upscale to hire a busker."

On these words, the Vantha's throat sank to his stomach, eyes turning a rare, nervous orange. He was about to respond, when suddenly he heard a shrill yell, "NANUK, ye'good fer nothin' laze-about!" The small woman, wrapped in a shawl, came stomping out to him, and he looked away, trying to cease existing. "Madam! What a lovely morning it is-"

"Nah, don' ye go an' pull tha' on me! I asked ye to sweep the deck!"

"Which I did, in my defense! This woman was alone-"

"I don' CARE 'bout who was where!" She shrilled at him. "Ye can work somewhere else!" With that, she ran back in, and the Vantha had to bite his tongue to keep from certain obscenities around respectable people. The woman returned briefly, dropping his cloak and other things at his feet. "Good day to you!"

Rolling his eyes, he called back, "Fine, fire me, get rid of me! But before you walk away, this woman is talented with the violin and needs work. You may not like the work I did, but at least give her a chance!"

Marybeth cocked her thin head back. She stood still, thinking for an obvious moment before sighing and turning back around, gesturing to Eada. "Come in from the cold child, let me hear you play! An' be quick about it!"

Nanuk breathed a sigh of relief. He handed back the knight's cloak and donned his own, offering Eada a weak smile. "She never liked how I did things, even when it earned her more coin. She may not like fun, but she likes good music, which you can play. I'll find work elsewhere, don't worry. But when she's not screaming at you, she's rather lovely!" Still, he couldn't hide that anxious, nervous orange tone that crept into his eyes, as he wondered where he would go next, who he would play for next. This wasn't turning into the bardic adventure he was hoping for. He took her violin hand and lightly kissed it, offering a weak smile. "It was a pleasure playing with you, miss Eada," he told her. "I wish you the best in your endeavors."