Solo What is a musician?

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

What is a musician?

Postby Hwyn on September 18th, 2016, 5:01 am

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66th of Fall 516 Av



What is music? It's genuinely a unique question, not that hywn knew the answer, he knew that he liked music, whatever it was. That said he'd seen it in enough forms to know that he was not entirely sure of what it actually was. Different songs tended to make people feel different things, yet music was not magical, any man could pick up an instrument and with effort learn to play it. That said he had already lost sight of his original question. Shrugging Hwyn smiled at his violin as he plucked it's strings looking for the right pitch in each, the thing was old and did not hold it's tune well, it had to be tuned with each use, but that was a proce Hwyn was willing to pay to play his Violin, it had been buy his side for a long time even if he neglected to play it as often as he should. Plucking each string in turn Hwyn grinned when familiar notes chimed back at him. It was getting later in the afternoon but the caravan had settled for the evening, it wouldn't be long tell ravok made an appearance, and as such Hwyn needed to get back into good form so that he could make a good impression of himself.

Pulling the bow across the violin's strings Hwyn smiled, he had long passed the raucous sounds that a true beginner would make and as such the note he pulled from the strings rang true and slow, no the playing of the violin was not the issue, it was the muscle memory of the off hand that needed practicing, his fingers needed to form new callouses that would allow the creation of notes that didn't make his fingers hurt. Second note, pressing down hard on strings Hwyn created a new sound a higher pitch as his fingers drew more pressure on the instrument. Yes, the concept behind what made the sounds Hwyn produced was actually fairly simple. A tight string, produces a tight sound, or a higher sound, a whine? Hwyn was not one for words but he understood the nature of the sound. Next to that was was the opposite a looser string would produce a looser... no deeper sound, like when an older large man lets out a belly laugh to when a young child lets out a shrill giggle. But anyways a string too loose would produce no sound at all, so the violin could not produce the deep noises a larger instrument might make.

Hwyn thought as he played the Violin, He liked the sounds he made, he played slowly, he knew notes and different sounds but similarly he didn't have any songs in his repertoire so he would need to create his own songs, or find someone that could teach him some. For the moment he was happy to simply play notes as he listened to the sounds of the forest he was in. Drawing a long note out and letting it die Hwyn copied the noize of an autumn breeze blowing through trees with golden leaves and tired branches.

So what was music anyway?


Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy
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What is a musician?

Postby Hwyn on September 18th, 2016, 5:56 am

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As he was playing Hwyn managed to not hear the sound of a couple of the older fellows in the caravan, to battered and weathered men both wearing grins on their faces. Sitting down on a fallen log the two shared a grin before one of the two spoke up.

"Well that ain't a bad sound you're makin their lady but it won't do ya no good to make pretty sounds if their ain't no soul behind em'"

His buddy replied by jostling him in his ribs, and shaking his head at his friend.

"Nah I wouldn't pay him too much heed, he ain't made a pretty noise his whole life, and I've been around for most of it, But what I think he means to say is that no amount of noise, will make a song unless you put somethin behind it ya know, but say, this old fart and me might be able to help ya out lass."

Taking the initiative from his partner the older of the two grinned and slapped his knee.

"Yeah ain't neither of us got fingers that can pluck a string worth a damned, but we both got salt riddled pipes that can carry a tune... Usually, so we'll put the oomph in it if you think you can carry the rhythm"

Chuckling at his cohort when he mentioned that they had the ability to sometimes carry a tune the younger of the two began tapping his foot to a beat before opening his mouth, and when he started the older man chimed in singing in a course unison.
The tune was easy enough to carry and in a matching back and forth strokes of the bow to the beat of the music Hwyn grinned as the two men jostled each other when one or the other made a sour sound. the three of them made some awful noises as Hwyn tried to find the right speeds and sounds to make. But eventually they got it together. The song's lyrics were easy and repetitive, but that made it all the more fun to keep it bouncing along, when the song gained its proper form a single run of it had been formed, not to say that it was perfect, but at least the words were there even if the rhythm wasn't quite perfected.

Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride

I met him in the tavern, Sailor all his life
Met him in the tavern, 'scaped from my old wife

Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride

This time tomorrow reckon where I'll be
Hadn't-a been for Zulrav, Blew me cross half the sea (well now, boy)

Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride

Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride


This time tomorrow reckon where I'll be
Wherever my lord Laviku, tells me I should be.

Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride


Leaving behind, Zeltiva
Leaving behind my tribe
Leaving behind, Zeltiva
On the waves I must ride
On the waves I must ride
On the waves I must ride
On the waves I must ride

Secret :
This song is to the tune of the folk song, Tom Dooley


Letting the last words of the song die out Hwyn found himself sweating and happy, the two men sitting cross the fire from him also had twinkles in there eyes and sweat on their brows. to call the performance good would be a lie, it was fairly awful, but at the same time it had been fun, so much fun in fact that Hwyn hoped he could do it again before Ravok.


Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy
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What is a musician?

Postby Hwyn on September 17th, 2017, 6:01 am

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