Making Music, Making Money (Open)

[Illial]

Timestamp: 6th of Winter, 509
Location: Near the Main Gates
Status: Open

Illial strode through the crowds, coming to a stop in a slight recess between two buildings. She could see the Great Gates, people coming and going like it was a small thing, entering and leaving the city the girl had never set foot outside. The thought of leaving scared her, but also excited her. Maybe, if she saved up enough money and didn't blow it on clothes and parties, she would be able to leave and see the world.

Catti mewled and dug her claws into Illial's shoulder, hurrying her along. The little cat was not stupid; she knew that the sooner Illial started playing the fiddle, the sooner she would finish, and the sooner they would both get fed. The girl chuckled quietly, reached back and scratched the creature's head. "Patience."

Taking care not to dislodge Catti from her perch on her shoulders, Illial crouched down and laid her fiddle case on the ground. She undid the clasps, pulled back the lid, and lifted the strange little instrument out. The three little stones set on the body twinkled merrily in the sun.

Standing up, she lifted the cat down onto the pavement, and held up the fiddle and bow. After checking that it was in tune - although she had rarely had to adjust it before - she began to play a well known song with a steady rhythm, her bare foot tapping on the pavement, smiling at passers-by in the hopes they would offer some change. She rarely played her own compositions while busking, as people didn't like the unfamiliar, and in her experience, offered less money for it.

She knew today she had to be ready to play until well into the afternoon, but she was tired after a late night partying, playing, singing, and socializing.

Catti sat down, ginger tail flicking restlessly off the pavement, aware she was in for a long wait.

[Abashai]

Sus swished her tail impatiently as Abashai conversed with the gate guards. She knew a treat of grain awaited her at her stall behind Travelers' Row. The interaction was brief and only a formality, all of the guards now knew the benshiran. He passed through the gates frequently, sometimes with Nya on trips to their home in the Bronze Woods, other times, like today, to give his restless Desertbred mare a little exercise in the fields outside the city. The time spent in the open did much to ease the spirit of the rider as well, who found the quiet countryside rides a perfect opportunity to pray and contemplate.

Bidding the knights farewell, Abashai led Sus through the gate and angled toward Travelers' Row. He heard the sound of the music before he saw the source. After a crowd of women carrying bundles of firewood on their backs passed, Abashai spotted the young woman with her fiddle. The beshiran was an amateur musician, but really only knew how to play desert music, which was quite a bit different than that which one heard in Syliras. He hoped one day to learn to play northern music as well. No matter what the type of music, Abashai loved to hear it, as it had the power to alter one's mood, to soothe and to inspire, even to sadden or bring joy. His fondest memories of the desert was the evening gatherings, called mashas, which were filled with song and dance and celebration.

Sus followed faithfully as Abashai walked over to the fiddler. She was somewhat familiar, perhaps he had seen her in the streets before. The music was a familiar tune as well, one he heard in a tavern he thought. The woman played well and with heart, as a true musician would. Crouching near the fiddler was a cat, hunched in a sort of ball, warding off the cold. It switched its tail absentmindedly, reminding him of his own feline companion. Abashai smiled broadly as the woman caught his eye, and he reached inside his long coat to pull out a silver miza. He carefully placed the coin in her fiddle case and leaned against his horse to listen.

When the tune came to an end, Abashai applauded briefly. He spoke up in thickly accented Common, "that was lovely, where did you learn to play that....." he wasn't even sure what the instrument was called, so he gestured at it instead.

[Illial]

"Thank you," she smiled. "I learned from my father. This was his fiddle, and it is what I play best, although I can play many things thanks to him."

The cat stood and restlessly paced between the two of them, mewling loudly and repeatedly. Illial laughed quietly. "She thinks you will feed her." The girl bent and scooped the little cat up with one hand, placing her back on her shoulder and scratching the velvety fur behind her ear. She looked back at the man, trying to avoid staring at the wonderful tattoos scrawled over his skin, and failing. There was something enchanting about them, something that spoke of adventure and mystery.

Trying to change her line of thought, she spoke the first thing that came to her mind. "Do you like music?"

[Abashai]

Abashai grinned at the girl's boisterous feline. "Cats seem to always be hungry". His grin broadened with a curious curve on one side, as if amused by a joke only he knew.

As the girl's gaze lingered on him, Abashai studied the her face, which was pleasant, especially when she smiled. Her large, dark eyes were very expressive, though they seemed to betray a tiredness. "You honor your father with his instrument." Abashai complimented, watching the girl set the cat on her shoulder. Sus snuffled, nodding her head slightly. "Patience friend," he drew close to the horse, rubbing his jaw on her strong cheek. "you will have your treat soon enough." The mare pressed her head against Abashai, playfully pulling on his coat collar with her teeth. "Don't get sassy," he chided. Abashai ruffled Sus' forelock and turned back to the musician with a short laugh.. "It appears both of our friends are hungry... the cold weather makes her frisky," he added almost apologetically.

Abashai continued, answering her question. "I do like music. I play some myself, but only one instrument really. It's called an oud. It would be similar to what you might call a lute." He hoped he wasn't insulting her intelligence, she may very well know what an oud is. "It is an instrument of the desert, and, right now, I only know how to play desert music, which is quite a bit different than what you play up here. I learned how to play music in a school called The Seat of the Sons in the benshiran city of Yahebah. By the way, my name is Abashai."

[Illial]

"I am Illial. I am very pleased to meet you." She smiled but as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to warm herself - it was colder today than she was used to - she realised that time was passing. Every second spent talking was money not earned.

She was glad of Abashai's company, however brief it would be - few people deigned to speak to musicians on the street, too busy or too superior - and the thought of cutting the encounter short saddened her. The constant need for money took precidence over her need for friends, so she had few. None, really, unless she could count the boy she had met at several parties over the past few seasons who would always share a drink with her before attaching himself to the closest attractive female. No, now that her parents were gone, she was alone. But she didn't let it get her down. There would always be time for that when she had the money to travel. She could find companions, and leave with them.

Glancing at the street where the crowds were beginning to thin, she bent to pick up the fiddle. "I should perhaps get back to work," she apologised. "I need to make enough to keep this demanding little tyke fed!" As if insulted, Catti jumped down onto the pavement and curled up with her back to Illial. The girl straightened, smiling. "But if you are interested in learning the music that is most loved around here, I would be happy to teach you. I busk every day, and I will be here on this street for at least seven days, perhaps more. Come and find me if you are interested."

[Abashai]

"I am pleased to meet you Illial." Abashai replied with a smile. Her fidgeting did not go unnoticed, though he could not determine whether it was due to the cold or impatience. The girl did seemed under-dressed for the chill of the day. He considered offering her his coat, or getting a blanket from the apartment, but such bulky coverings would certainly hinder her performing. Maybe Nya could help him find her something warmer. Not that he thought Illial needed charity. But he did know that musicians in Syliras worked hard for little pay. Illial seemed a bit of a loner as well, she may be insulted if he was too forward.

The fiddler's impatience was confirmed as her eyes shifted past Abashai to the street and she politely suggested she continue her busking. Abashai felt suddenly guilty for distracting Illial from her work. "Of course," he replied, "I should get Sus to her stall before she chews my collar off. Again, I am glad to have met you Illial. I would love to hear you play more. Maybe you can teach me some new music....I would pay you, of course." Although Abashai had been working with some of the benshiran musicians in town to hone his skills, all they played was benshiran music. He picked up Sus' reins, then reached into his pocket to pull out a few more copper-rimmed mizas and dropped them into the fiddle case. He did not have much money, but something told him Illial needed it more. "May you have a good day." He gave her a last smile and turned to lead his steed down the cobblestone street towards Traveler's Row.

[Rohnn]

Rohnn wandered the crowd filled streets of Syliras mindlessly as his eyes ran over the many buildings, shops and stalls that lined them. The city took his breath away; he had traveled quite a bit in his time but usually he had passed through villages and hamlets. Although they had their own characters, they lacked the dazzling charm and finesse that city-living brought. No beautiful, majestic places of worship, markets filled with browsers and buyers of all status and stature or armor-clad guards patrolling the city limits and conversing with the citizens. Syliras was truly a wondrous icon of the human race, despite their terrible pasts.

'Wow....'

Rohnn thought, gawping in awe at the sight. Walking past a small recess between two buildings, he heard the most beautiful noise. He followed his ears, taking in every note, before stopping his advancement and absorbing the artistry like a man savors his last supper. Just a minute longer and he'd be satisfied, It had been so long since he was soothed by a gracious melody.

"Truly breath-taking"

He sighed, looking towards the woman and her fiddle. Smiling and nodding in appreciation, he approached. Her cat paced the floor beside her as she played, probably waiting for her to finish so they could get home. Poor cat. He held a hand up in greeting and waited for a response.

[Illial]

Illial smiled at the Jamoura, continuing with the song and following it to its conclusion. At this rate she wouldn't get more than a few songs played before she had to go home, although it didn't really matter now - thanks to Abashai's generosity she would be able to eat for several days. Not often was she shown such kindness. She wondered if he would indeed seek her out, or if he was simply being nice in saying he was interested in learning. She hoped it was the former.

She felt the song beginning to drag. Rarely did she tire of music, either playing or listening, but today something felt different. The call of home was strong, and there seemed to be nothing more appealing to her than some solitute to think things through. This was the first time she had truly thought of leaving. Before, it had always been a dream that she spent her days dreaming of, and nothing more than that. But now it suddenly seemed real. Seeing Abashai, so obviously a foreigner, made it clear to her that travelling was not such a far-fetched idea. It was becoming more than a dream. A goal.

She let the last notes of the song ring out, throbbing through the air. It was a sad song with lyrics about betrayal and the death of both the betrayed and the betrayer, but she didn't sing them. The street didn't seem like the place, so full of bustling life. She didn't often sing in the street anyway. That was a skill reserved for when she knew she would be payed: parties and private audiences.

She finished and lowered the fiddle, looking towards the newcomer. She wondered whether or not to raise her hand in greeting, decided too long had passed since he had raised his own, and simply smiled.

"Hello."

[Zae]

From crouched on top of a spire Zae listened. "Hmmm, yes it is good, beautiful infact." He jumped down from the spire onto the roof, and began to run. Even though he was not needed for a mercenary mission or assasination, he kept a low profile. He continued to run, jumping from home to home, slowly gaining on the position of the busker. Zae jumped down into an alley way, and emerged at a slow walk, not even panting. He walked over to the Fiddler, only to see she was already engaged in conversation, so he sat. Her cat ran over to him and smooched his leg. Zae chuckled, "Excuse me, fine minstrel. If it is not too much to ask, would you please grace us with your beautiful tunes once again"

[Illial]

Illial was caught a little off guard by the arrival of the newcomer.

"I was-" she began, but stopped herself before she said something rude. I was talking to the Jamoura, she thought, but said nothing. Instead, she smiled and shrugged apologetically at the grey-furred ape man.

"I was thinking of finishing for the day. But I suppose one more song can't hurt." She raised her fiddle and began another song, this one more upbeat, a tavern song.

She hit a few wrong notes, messed up the rhythm once or twice. She finished and lowered her eyes. She rarely played badly, even when her mind was elsewhere, but today was different. Everything was changing too suddenly.

"I apologise. My playing was very poor."

It was beginning to get colder too. Her bare feet were red with the cold and her hands stiffening at the joints, which didn't help her playing.

"I am cold, and a little distracted. You must forgive me."