Tavern of the Bards

[Aurane]

A small inn and tavern, its original business had never gone very well. Sometime after the owner gave up and tried elsewhere, the building was bought by a a cluster of poets, bards, musicians, and the like.
Together, they set up a small stage inside, leaving the tavern area mostly as it was, to allow patrons and performers alike food and drink. The rooms in back are all filled in, either with supplies or visiting artists. Even the kitchen is cramped with costumes, musical instruments, and boxes.

Various events can be planned here. Every evening, or, almost any time of the day, so long as someone is there to hear it, a singer, poet, storyteller, anyone can get up and do their thing for the audience. A group of such people, all close friends, keep coming up with nightly material, to make sure there is no shortage. Anyone who wishes to join in is very welcome to do so.

Resident performers:

Kileah is a dramatic poet. she often writes her works of heart touching subjects, both positive and negative.

Helaron is another poet, but of the more adventurous style. he dabbles in storywriting, but poetry is his constant. he has an occasional spot with other musical performers.

Coruen doesnt appear much, out of her timidity in front of people, but through her friends' encouragement, she's getting better at that. she plays a harp, almost exclusively beside her friend Raniel.

Raniel is an elf, having come from one of the portals a few years ago. she sings well, and encourages Coruen by asking her to play beside her.

Thowin is a solid storyteller. he cant rhyme, or sing. the best thing he can draw is a simple figure. but he can tell stories well enough.

Lorcyn and Alylla are a set of twins, brother and sister, who find their talent in humor, spinning extravagant tales for the entertainment of others.

[Aurane]

*it's the quiet part of the day. no performances at the moment, and no audience, though two or three passersby have stopped in for a light snack. the food is almost as much of a draw as the stage. all the resident performers are sitting on or standing around the stage, putting their heads together and writing material for tonight*

so... i've got some words, coruen, do you have anything to play?

*coruen attempts a grin. even around the other performers, she's shy. but raniel's reassuring smile brings her out of it for the moment*

ah, i did write a little... ...i dont think it's that good, though....

*raniel tips an ear towards her friend*

what's that? not that good? let me hear it before you put yourself down.

ah... okay.

*coruen pulls out a small harp, made for practice and easy transportation. she plucks away at it, her timid expression fading into an expression of passion and focus*

*raniel smiles. she's glad that coruen trusts her so, it gives her a chance to help her emerge from her little mental shell. the music enchants her from the start. she mentally adapts the words and flow of her lyrics as she goes along with it*

in a forest glen far,
a child is born,
but between elf and man,
his body is torn.
his mother, she takes him,
away, far from home.

in a small human village,
the child grows up,
known for his difference,
but he's treated well enough.
his best friend's an errand boy,
whom he gladly gives working help.

in that same human village,
the child is a man.
one day a notice
comes in errand boy's hand.
a war soon is coming,
the army's in need of men.

in a large human city,
the friends are ensigned,
they watch as their number
leaves their home behind.
the friends ask each other:
just what will we fight?

in a small army camp,
the two best friends wait,
they made friends with some others
while taking their armor plate.
the night before the big attack,
to all, runs late.

dawn on the trail,
the army proceeds,
they've packed weapons, and food,
and all other needs.
as the field turns to brush,
a forest he sees.

deep in the forest,
he has second thoughts.
could this be the home
in his memory lost?
could he, foe or not,
his elf kin, accost?

deep in that forest,
the battle begins.
arrows pelt shields,
the fight see no end.
dry humor is shared,
until an arrowhead punctures a thin,
shield.

still in that forest,
the half-elf cries out.
his best friend is shot,
his thin shield gave out.
consumed with angry grief,
he throws himself out.

in clear path of arrows,
he presents himself a target.
begging his kindred
on both sides to quit.
both elf and man listen,
and realize their wrongs, yet...

sitting up in a tree,
frozen by his word,
a cousin of his,
cant believe what she's heard.
she relaxes her tense grip,
it releases her bow with a thud.

looking up in that tree,
he faces his kin.
then looks at his chest,
where the arrow's plunged in.
he exchanges looks of shock,
as he crumples to his end.

she runs from the tree,
holds a hope that he lives,
but dreads that her arrows,
are too accurate for this.
she apologizes for her folly,
as the life leaves his eyes.

she weeps for him,
and says him a prayer,
as does everyone else
standing there.
she stands and faces the bloody dawn.
his family must be told, she declares.

she takes up the burden,
she feels that she must,
as she knocks from her traveling things
all the dust.
as the races commune,
she takes to her path.

*coruen finishes her song and gives raniel an awestruck look*

amazing.

*kileah nods. she couldnt help but listen
*

i truly enjoyed it. it touched the heart.

*raniel bows comically, grinning*

thank you, all.

*alylla catches onto her joke, and nudges lorcyn*

hey, that's our department!

*the whole group gets a good chuckle out of it*

you dont think it was too long? i kind of expanded as it went, coruen's music is just so inspiring.

*at hearing this, coruen goes a deep shade of red*

*helaron flicks a hand through the air*

come now, coruen, you always refuse to see your own talent. there's nothing wrong with admitting you're good, as long as you leave it at that.

*thowin comes out from the kitchen*

anyone hungry?

*everyone leaps up at the prospect of food. by now, even those mealgoers who lingered for the song have left*

if thowin's helping to cook, it's bound to be great!

[Aurane]

*kileah and helaron are throwing words at each other to find rhymes, thowin is wandering his own imagination, and raniel is whistling the time away on a little flute, making up a simple melody as she goes. the others are still asleep. last night hadnt been that successful, but it doesnt get their spirits down.*

*kileah murmurs her poetry, half to herself, half to helaron. she trails off, her quill pen hovering anxiously over the paper. at a loss for words, she makes a motion with her free hand. helaron attempts to translate*

rip? wrench? pull? twist? rend?

*at 'rend', kileah begins scribbling again. she goes on for a few long moments of writing in silence, then smiles at helaron*

alright, then, what do you have?

well... here goes.

*helaron launches into his usual story of adventure. this long-lined, unusual poetry style he's used makes it feel almost as if it isnt a poem. but the constant rhythm and flow make sure that it's clear. he trails off at one point*

i dont know what to make of it.

well...

*she begins asking many obscure questions about the deeper personalities and quirks of the characters in the poem*

*helaron laughs at all the questions he cant find an answer for yet*

never thought of it that way!

*he explores his characters, coming up with answers as he goes*

[Aurane]

*another quiet day in the tavern, thowin tries his mind at some new material*

...the very heartbeat of the world could be heard in their silence.

*he pauses to jot down a few words on a nearby sheet of paper, strikes them through, rewrites them, and goes on*

...his sword was heavy, and his grip was slick with his own sweat. the greatest foe he ever faced, and he feared he could not do what he must.

*another pause, but with less striking*

'i gave you warning enough.' she said coldly. 'if you do not leave now, you will not live to see the outside again.'

he tried to grip his sword, at the very least for assurance. he could not.

*another hasty scribble, and a long pause*

with one last hope for victory, he gathered his courage for a simple question.

'if you are such a great and vicious tyrant, why spare me when you have spared no others?'

her silence sent a chill through him.

'as weak and foolish a man as you are...' she said finally. 'you are still my brother. but you are wasting my generosity on that fact by remaining here.'

the warning in her voice wrenched at the already anxious spot in his gut, but he remained where he stood.

she frowned deeply at him, he dark eyes empty of remorse.

*thowin had written all the last part down as he went. he pauses*

he searched her eyes for some form of compassion, and found none. she pointed a hand accusingly at him. his insides quailed, but he stood firm.

'then die.'


*raniel picks up an apple and decides to chat with thowin. she comes up behind him, and claps him on the shoulder with a 'hello'*

*startled out of his mental state, thowin nearly leaps from his seat*

augh, raniel, dont do that!

*raniel chuckles*

why so jumpy?

*thowin grumbles his way back to his writing*

*raniel shrugs slightly, still grinning, and walks off elsewhere*

[Elfhame]

After a few hours of exploring the city, the elf decides that he needs a drink. He enters the Tavern of the Bards, looking around for someone. Seeing none, he sits down near the bar, glad to have this little break.

[NeroDragoon]

*Nero walks in to the tavern and sits down at a small table about in the middle. He does not order anything but just sits there watching and seeming to be waiting for something*

[Elfhame]

He gets up and goes behind the bar to get his own drink. In the process, he puts a few coins on the counter. Then he pulls his seat closer to himself and sits down, sipping something "fresh" and "new" - a normal red wine, instead of the usual Vanilla Blood.

[NeroDragoon]

(OOC: gag vanilla blood...) *Nero watches as the wine is sipped and wonders where the bar tender is*

[Aurane]

(ooc: hey, nero, nice to see you about again. my character isnt here right now, i operate a bunch of people exclusive to this location, i'm seeing how it turns out.

Edit: LOL!! I just saw your sig!)

*Lorcyn makes a teasing comment about lack of good help*

*Throwing him a mildly irritated look, Thowin walks behind the bar, murmuring apologies on the way to those who can make out the slightly garbled sound*

*Alylla catches up with Lorcyn and the two practice and create jokes. They're audible, but not intrusively so. A little entertainment for the visitors*

*After watching him curiously for a little while, Raniel approaches the Dragoon*

you dont look as if you're here just for a drink and a show.

[NeroDragoon]

(Raises eyebrow at Aurane's sig, Winged half-elf has many forms)

[NeroDragoon]

*Nero looks at Raniel* Well actualy i was just taking a rest, i have been traveling a while...

[Elfhame]

His glass empty, stood up, wrapped his cloak about him and walked out onto the busy streets, heading for the Scrollrack, hoping to find today at least somewhat interesting.

[Aurane]

Nero said:

*Nero looks at Raniel* Well actualy i was just taking a rest, i have been traveling a while...

*Raniel nods*
Sorry for troubling you, then,
*She grins a small, impish grin*
Curiosity and jumping to conclusions, sometimes just can't help myself.

*Coruen walks up to Raniel, murmurs something to her, and starts to walk away*

Well, I'll leave you to your own business, then. We haven't any available rooms, if you're thinking about it, I hear there's a whole lot of vacancies in the central city, though.
*Raniel nods her goodbye, and follows Coruen. The two test a few notes of harp and voice together, and practice on a few simple songs*

[Aurane]

*As the sun begins to settle onto the horizon, the small pack of regular attendees filters slowly in*

*Coruen warms up on her harp, while Helaron sits beside her, fine-tuning a violin*

*Helaron casts an eye over the audience and murmurs in a slightly wounded fashion*
Nineteen people, the usual standard. If they come back so loyally, why don't they bring friends?


*Coruen doesn't reply. Her gaze is firmly and anxiously set on her harp strings*

*Helaron leans over a little closer and murmurs*
Stare any harder and the strings might break.

*Coruen nearly jumps with surprise. She murmurs back*
Ah, s-sorry. just, Raniel's not here... and I, I know it's stupid... but I just don't feel good about it...

Ah, Cori, don't worry. Just imagine it's first thing in the morning, and no one's here. Anyway, they love your music, there's nothing to worry about. And if there is...
*He straightens up in his seat with a comical look on his face and thumps a fist over his heart*
They'll have me to contend with.

*Coruen smiles weakly, and blushes slightly as she goes back to her strings, and as Kileah announces the performance. Before long, she's back in her own world, playing her heart out across the strings of her harp*

*After a splendid performance and a hearty round of applause, the performers step down and relenquish the stage to an audience member with some poetry of his own*

[Brightshield]

(He is passing by the tavern on the way from Goosey and Bawkes, having delivered the ¼ down payment required, when he heard the performance. He decided to drop in and see what was passing.

He was amused by the actors and their performance. They did quite well for nin-bards, he thought to himself.)