The Bard is Well Again

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The Bard is Well Again; A bard in the pub o.O OH NO!
Topic Started: Aug 22 2007, 04:27 PM (161 Views)
Johnathen Veisas	Aug 22 2007, 04:27 PM Post #1
Unregistered	The sound of strummed lute strings echoed over the pub's chaotic howls... And the effects were clear... Such men always loved the presence of a bard, and the sheer power behind that one, simple cord, made it clear that a grandmaster had entered the pub... When the vikings looked at the door though, there stood a near beast of a man, who, if not for the harp, could almost be mistaken as a poorly armed warrior who had gambled all his winnings away. But then they would see the harp. It was obviously that of great craftsmanship, and as large as some of their bigger shields. The man waded through the crowd, the others parting before him in waves as he made his way to a corner he had decided to claim as his own... Still the young man did not speak. But the great harp was set down before him, his hulking shoulders crowding over it as his hands began to glide over the strings. "Hear me my friends..." the voice was fluid, and seemed to wash over the crowd. The fingers began to pick the seemingly ethereal strings, the tune that to melt even the coldest of hearts and set them into a stupor that no ale could manage... alone at least. "Hear me my friends, for I shall tell ye a tale," those closet would be seen to try and scoot even closer, the instruments pitch rising and falling, following it's master's voice. "Great and many, the warriors you are, but one far great hath drawn you so far. Aye aye, I speak of he. The Good Lord Ivar, the Dragon Cleaver!" Almost instantly the music changed, his fingers strumming a fast paced battle hymn, and their instincts in the right place, the drinkers slowly drummed their steins upon the tables and bar. "I tell ye' a tale, few do know... A tale of how Ivar the Great, was almost brought low!" The room fell silent, as if a blasphemer had cursed all the gods tenfold, so much did these men love their leader. "Be calm my friends, for tis only a near miss, for Ivar lives only by having avoided sweet death's kiss... Behold my friends, for upon that field of battle did he stand, brave, brave and tall, a rash and bold young man. That pit of evil, to which he drew near, and face a beast so bold! It lunged it crashed, but twas easily dispatched, by Ivar, now dragoncleaver his axe. But no! No, twas not the great denizen that he slew, but only her child, which soon he knew... Great wing beats thrummed, and assailed him from above, the great shebeast..." The revertment back to Ivar being a grand hero had many pounding and grunting approval, some few having heard the story of Ivar's near miss with death, and those that didn't were drawn deeper into the bard's tale. (((The tale continues in my next post... No more then two other people at a time please as it is hard to fit my actions befitting many people)))
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Llewyn	Sep 7 2007, 02:03 AM Post #2
Unregistered	Llewyn was trying her best to keep the Vikings in the tavern happy, and, for the moment, it was semi-working. At least they hadn’t gotten into killing each other yet. That was certainly a good thing. If there was one thing that Llew hated most, it was cleaning up blood from the floor of her tavern. The girl sighed, looking at the riotous men with some distaste and mild anger. The ale had gotten to some of their heads, and she was going to have to boot them out – and now. They were raising hell, wanting to beat up on an innocent man for not paying them money that he didn’t owe them. Yes…that was the way of drunken men, and Llewyn wished no part of it. She stepped out from behind her bar, throwing the dirty bar towel on the old oak surface. Her forest green eyes blazed and snapped with fury as she stood toe to toe with a man a foot and a half taller than she. Despite her small stature, she was fiery and afraid of nothing. “Drop the man and leave, Orik, and I mean now. I’ll not have you slaughtering someone who don’t deserve it.” With that, she planted her right foot firmly in the tall man’s chest, and shoved him back, toward the door. Her face was wreathed in anger at his protests. Regarding him not, she took him by the arm with a vice-like grip and promptly showed him the door. Once he was outside in the dark night, she turned, closing the door quietly, still wanting to hear what the bard had to say. It had been far too long since she had heard a bard, and longer still since she saw a halfway decent looking man. Living among the Vikings as a single woman was something rather unusual, especially for so pretty a lass. The girl pulled herself up onto the bar and sat, legs dangling, looking over at the fire, and trying to remember when Ivar had been in such trouble…it had been a long time ago, that was for sure. With a slight toss of her head, she flicked her raven locks out of her face, and looked over at the bard once more, absorbing every detail of the story with the passion of a young child.
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Johnathen Veisas	Sep 8 2007, 03:13 PM Post #3
Unregistered	Johnathen paid no mind to the forced exit, knowing that it was the way these men had to learn. Besides, that meant the man might have money left to tip him for his tale, after all a bard had to make a living, even in the employ of Ivar... his green eyes even lifted up to met the raven haired woman's, flashing with a charming smile before delving back into the tale. "Oh yes, the sun flashed brightly on those demon scales, poor man Ivar tired from his harrowing flight. But on he fought with a hero's might!" his voice rose, and the chord he struck made a few cringe, the image coming to life before their eyes as he pulled out his great magic. The dragon took shape, actually careening right over the woman sitting on the bar, smaller then what it would have been, but the illusion real as the bard wanted it to be... There stood Ivar, axe in hand, standing over the decapitated baby... the fight only just to begin.The drunks started making a fuse of wicked sorcery, feeling the wind from the wing beats as if they were real. Sure he was showing off, but after all, it was a show and he was paid to keep them entertained. "Oh how they clashed," the image of a young and handsome Ivar dove just narrowly missing as a spiked tail came slamming into the illusioned mountainside. The fight would go on, no words coming from the bard as he lasped into the music, his fingers gliding across the harp's strings. Ivar moved again, a clawed foot smashing down as the dragon assailed him to try and bite him. His axe slamming into her flanks. It seemed so real, and those who watched would slowly be drawn in, the spell making it seem more real sized, as if they were right there, hearing the sounds, feeling the heat of the dragon's blazing fury. While the tale was only minutes long, it would seem true to life, the exhaustion on their hero's face clear, blood dripping down his arm, not clear if it was his or the beast who now lumbered about, trying to snatch him with her teeth... In a fit of desperation, they watched as Ivar charged out from behind a rock and ran right to the serpentine head, axe slamming down straight between her eyes... Words flowed of out as a river's flow now "She reared in pain, in her mind, she knew it was the end. She gnashed and gnawed, but all was flawed... How could mere man best the shebeast!" Ivar was thrown to the ground as the dragon gave one last heave before collapsing into death. Now he truely was Ivar Dragoncleaver. The Bard's eyes opened, already locked on the woman's... he took his broad rimmed hat from his head and turned it over as the image of a victorious Ivar tore free the axe and faded away. A few tips beginning to fill in.
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Llewyn	Sep 12 2007, 05:49 AM Post #4
Unregistered	Llewyn watched in eagerness as the dragon that was summoned by the bard flew around, circling her body. She lifted her hand in surprise, fingers gently brushing the tiny dragon before it disappeared from her area. Her green eyes turned back to the bard, and she watched is every movement, enjoying the story. Alas, it was over too soon, and she had to climb down from her perch to give the men more of what they wanted, or to see them off. It didn’t take long for some of them to leave, and for that Llew was grateful. A few men lingered behind, still nursing their drinks with quiet stubbornness. The girl began to clean off and up her taveren, taking care to wipe each table clean, as well as all the chairs. She hummed softly to herself as she worked, her voice a pleasing melody to anyone who heard it. It was said that her mother had been part siren, thus explaining her beautiful voice, but Llew refused to tell anyone the truth… A man looked over at the bard, tossed him a coin, and hollered, “Sing us another one before we must off to bed!” sorry...absolutely no inspiration tonight
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Johnathen Veisas	Sep 12 2007, 06:16 PM Post #5
Unregistered	A deft and skilled hand snatched the coin from the air and pearly teeth gave it a careful test... "Another one ye' say?" The crowd remaining cheered and hooted... How could he refuse? He paused... Looking to the bar owner whom caught his eyes... "Could you put on some fresh tea, soaked with peppermint leaves if you have any?" He flipped the very same coin at her... "And when you're done, come on back here, I've use for that entrancing voice of yours." He gleamed wickedly as he must have talked to her in a way no patron would dare... A few grunts his reply... He could not have the only lovely woman he had seen the whole voyage slip away without being put on the spot at least once... especially one with such a voice. He strummed softly on his harp, making a scene for the men just out of the lady's sight so as to keep them entertained... So lewd, but it was what he was paid to do, and he had felt his cough coming again so he refused to sing to much in case of a full fit and utter ruin... Stay calm Johnathen, you'll get through this... At least he hoped as much, he had been so ill for the first few days of the voyage on this floating fortress... Holed up in his room working on tales of history and fantasy, he was not about to give in to a sickness that he knew his body could handle... In the end it was just a stubborn cold there to anger him...
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Llewyn	Sep 19 2007, 06:42 AM Post #6
Unregistered	Llewyn caught the coin that was tossed her way with a dexterous hand. Tucking it into her pocket, she winked at the bard before giving a toss of her wavy hair. He wanted her to sing? That was something that she hadn’t done in a long time….especially in front of anyone. The last time she had been asked to sing was when her mother had died. When her brother left, she had lost all reason to sing then….but it seemed that a new light was dawning over her chances of getting her voice back. With a grin, she spoke back at the young man. *“Of course, good sir….I’ll be done with that tea and I may* sing for you….if I get the notion to.” She was a feisty one at that, but despite her outer appearance, she would easily be coaxed into singing for the crowd. She used to do that for her father’s crew, a long time ago. The girl disappeared into the kitchen, boiling water and grabbing peppermint leaves for the bard. She still didn’t even know his name…she would find out soon though. A few butterflies surfaced in her belly, but she passed them off quickly, not allowing herself to get nervous before anyone…that wouldn’t happen - ever. Hell would freeze over first. It didn’t take long for the water to boil, and the tea leaves she had tossed in had more than made a strong enough tea. She grabbed some peppermint leaves, fresh honey and lemon slices (two of her rarer stores, for the man’s cough) and a few cups. She had some more civilized teacups upstairs in her room, but now wasn’t the time to be acting like a lady…not that Llew had had any formal training in that area. She just knew what most people did, at least those who weren’t Norse…she had learned from a trader’s wife that had lived here a long time ago. Balancing everything, tea kettle and all, on a tray, Wyn stepped out of the kitchen, walked over to the table adjacent to the bard, and set the bounty down. With a sure movement, she poured tea for him, added in some of the peppermint leaves, and offered him some of the lemon and honey. “For your cough,”** She explained softly.
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Johnathen Veisas	Sep 20 2007, 02:37 PM Post #7
Unregistered	Johnathen smiled, he had not told anyone of his cough, but he supposed the word must have gotten around some how. None the less, he waved off the honey and lemon with a charming smile... "Good for the cough, bad for the voice..." he refused the honey for it may close his throat, and the lemon because it withered the throat... The bawdy images faded to the crowds dismay, a few men beginning to eye a few barmaids with their lustful excitement. The young man took the tea, admiring the scent as he tipped the cup to his soft lips. This was no warrior indeed, while he was broad-chested and broad-shouldered, he knew how to hold a sword... The man was soft, in a good way. Not all men sought glory in battle, and thus was his father's hatred of him. Taking a sip, feeling the relief flood his chest, he patted a seat next to him, scooting a bit away from it to not be so uncomfortably close, his hand already strumming a tune, colours dancing in the air around the woman. "Now, m'lady, a song? I am sure your patrons are tired of a man's voice." his eyes softened, the lids closing slightly to make him seem more enticing, that sly smile of his spreading across his lips. While he refused to eat honey while performing, he was sure his voice had the feel of it as it passed over her ears, smooth as velvet. The crowd seemed to approve of the proposition, a few already checking their coin purses...
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Llewyn	Sep 21 2007, 09:42 AM Post #8
Unregistered	“I’m not tired of it, but I will certainly join you…forgive me if I am a bit off tune, though. I haven’t sung for a crowd in many, many years.” Her eyes showed her slight nervousness, but her voice betrayed it not. This was the time to be strong, and to not falter, as a warrior woman should. She had looked over at her barmaids for a moment, making sure that they dodged the lustful men with ease, which they all were, before turning back to the bard. His voice was soft and silky smooth, entrancing and enchanting her very soul. She had to blink several times to realize that he was almost trying to bewitch her. Well, two could play at that game, and here hidden blood would surely prove helpful in this case. Taking a deep breath, the girl began to sing, her voice soft and pure in the tavern’s darkness. There was an enchanting tone about it, a soft calling that stirred men’s souls and drove them crazy, made then fools and heroes all at once. She had used this gift only a few times before, and only to get herself free of sticky situations. Now, however, she was using her skill just for the pleasure of singing, something she hadn’t allowed herself since the day her world turned black. Only one song came to mind, and she whispered the title to the bard quietly, before beginning. It started off acapella, then the music joined in after a few lines. “Remember, I will still be here As long as you hold me, in your memory Remember, when your dreams have ended Time can be transcended Just remember me I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly, It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun I'm with you Whenever you tell, my story For I am all I've done Remember, I will still be here As long as you hold me, in your memory Remember me I am the one voice in the cold wind, that whispers And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky As long as I still can reach out, and touch you Then I will never die Remember, I'll never leave you If you will only Remember me Remember me... Remember, I will still be here As long as you hold me In your memory Remember, when your dreams have ended Time can be transcended I live forever Remember me Remember me Remember... me...” With the last note, her voice faded away serenely. She looked at the men, who were rather awestruck at their barmistress’s talent, so long buried beneath her normally quiet and commanding appearance.
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Radea Sigoa	Sep 23 2007, 03:09 PM Post #9
Unregistered	The fingers moved with words, colours turning deeper in shade as her voice rang out... Beautiful, he thought, his body swaying with her music. The lights he conjured seemed to take unto it the colour of the deep-sea, greens and blues. One would be amazed at the true vibrant and visual wonders found so far below and away the sun's embrace. They swerved about her in orbs, then streams... He went so far as to cause them to caress her cheek briefly, the crowd was eating it up. Johnathen was entranced, of course, what man was not at this point? Beauty of the eyes, and seduction of the ears, this woman did not belong here with such brutes. It was a vain thought, the young man being brutish in build from the few years of rigid and stern training under a cruel swordmaster. It had been a flawless performance, one that even one ranked as he was would not deem capable to insult. But before any coin was tossed her way, he placed the harp aside and stood to applaud her, that sly smile upon his face as he drew near her. ((Wrong character, sorry))
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