Open An Octave Within a Bar

Octavius decides to go and play some music for the patrons at a local tavern.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

An Octave Within a Bar

Postby Octavius Holvs on October 1st, 2016, 9:08 pm

--31rst of Fall 516

Octavius would pull on his linen's, today was a new day. Having been registered at the local offices as an official musician of sorts, it was time for him to go out and do what he did best. Today however wasn’t going to be any specific work day for him however, today was celebration. Celebration of his first year in Zeltiva. As he fitted his pants carefully and pushed in a couple strings from the shirt he wore he would gather his coat. Draping it carefully over his body and straightening it out with a small smile about him.

He would look himself over some. Part of him found the linen's comfortable but he always desired something fanciful. He considered some luxury silks he had passed by in the market. Perhaps something in blue, but dye cost an arm and a leg and he had no spare limbs to provide quite yet. Perhaps once he grew to higher levels and got some recognition from nobility he would seek out something to make him look nicer. For now the linen's were fine for where he wanted to go. It wasn't any fanciful event he had been invited too after all, in fact he hadn't been invited to anything at all in this celebratory wind he had.

Instead, he had ventured, it was a good time for a drink. Social endeavors were typical of him, especially when they involved drinks and a potential date back home. Besides it would work as a way to get some extra connections and get his name out there a bit. A bar, somewhere out there, would do him perfectly. He packed up his lute into a case, securing it firmly with the straps before bringing it up and onto his back. He checked himself briefly, keys, coin-bag, all on him. He nodded to himself and left the home with some pep in his step, locking up behind him and making his way along. Waving to fellow citizens as he passed them by down the road from his home. As he made his way through districts he'd stop one or two along the way, asking about Taverns and Bars willing to take some music to add to the scene.

After a couple tips and a few misguided directions he would find his way to a small hole in the wall kind of place, lit up with torches along the entryway. He opened the door and entered, scanning the inside with a dainty smile. The Tavern was a homey feeling zone, a simple bar as the mainstay on the far end of the room, surrounded by chairs, and people thereupon those chairs, drinking under happy and disastrous circumstances alike. There were a small scattering of tables surrounding the walls of the building as well. While less full, they still were occupied by the occasional group or clique. Octavius made his way to the front, sitting upon a stool and ordering from the bartender a Mug of Ale. Dropping upon the table a few copper banded mizas to cover the cost as he was met with what he was seeking. He began eagerly, taking a large drink from the mug before turning to greet a fellow to his left with a large smile. "Good day! So, what brings you to this spot in the wall?" He was quick to socialize with strangers, placing down his lute filled case to his side. The man would reply, somewhat confused, yet cordially "Erm, Payday." They talked for a fair bit over ale about small topics, and everyday events. The man, being a guard from the recent riots, was a regular to the bar. While there wasn't much Octavius could relate to with the man, they both shared some appreciation for music, and when he offered to play, the guard, and some overhearing patrons had pushed him on to do so with mild smiles about them.

He'd request permission from the bartender, who happily obliged. He unpacked his kit, slid out his chair to a warmer center of the room and after testing the strings some for tuning, would begin a warm and slower Baroque melody. The tune itself was more simple to play, but it filled the room with more than just the empty noise and chatter. He'd idly play for however long, drinking Ale between interludes, and conversing to whoever came his way.
Last edited by Octavius Holvs on October 10th, 2016, 8:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Bard | Musical Instrument (Lute) : 30 | Active (Under Review) - Curious | CS
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Octavius Holvs
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An Octave Within a Bar

Postby Net on October 4th, 2016, 3:01 am

NOTEPlease place a Time Stamp on your introduction post for this thread. All threads MUST be time stamped.

There was small talk and bantering across the tavern's regulars. Yet there was a distinct distaste in the air for those that drank the local brew and those that ordered the... 'Exotic' stuff. Ain't nobody got the mizas for those kind of drinks, and yet the bard fellow did.

There was a pause though as some watched him pull out his lute, a few even perked their ears as he twitched the strings some to ensure the instrument was tuned. Yet what he broke out in was not what they would've preferred. It was a somber piece, something the families might have at their banquets or their feasts. The murmurings stopped, almost like a wave it crested outward, starting closet to the bard and the sounds of the tavern went quiet in the relatively few ticks it took to cascade the furthest away.

The sound was almost deafening, only being broken by the music and the calling of gulls out at the bay. The shuffling of Wave Guards and merchants on the docks. Sellers trying to hawk their products to passerbys can be heard on the drifting salty air.

“Play summin' dif'rent...” A rather burly looking man muttered from table nearby. “Ya! Summin' dif. One o' thoz... Svefra shanties.” Than man next to him spoke a bit louder. There was a murmur of agreement as someone just to the other side of Octavious threw their mug of kelp beer into his face. Soaking the strings of his lute, his hair, even his clothing. A chewed on apple came soaring through the air next. Landing at the bard's feet with a squishy thud.

“A shanty lad! A bloody shanty!” And soon there was hands pounding on tables and chanting calls for 'Shanty! Shanty!' reverberated the walls and soon more kelp beer was sloshing around and being poured on the bard, as the drunk inhabitants called it into his face.
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