PM to join A Night At The Stallion [Hisoka, Crypt, Yohan]

[Rhylund Vauler]

72nd Fall 512 AV Rhylund beamed a smile at the tavern's common room and his audience of a healthy size. His eyes turned to watch the fingers of his left hand dance across the neck of his lute as the metallic hum resonated out of its wooden body and into the ears of any who would listen: he enjoyed nothing more than being enjoyed by others. The patrons had seemed so far content with his basic library of songs, and it occurred to the bardling that competition in a place like Syliras may not be nearly as stiff as he had anticipated. His eyes narrowed with a smile that showed the beginnings of crow's feet as he nodded to a passing woman with a figure capable of drawing any man's gaze. A small chuckle moved his shoulders beneath his dark blue coat resting above grey breeches. Soft leather boots with the tops turned down concealed his feet as one taped quietly on the small dais providing room for his performance. The final notes of the simple, but upbeat, song were allowed to ring until the strings stopped vibrating on their own. He held his lute by the neck in his left hand and gave a bow to a few polite applause before giving it a spin for show, then set it to rest against the wall. The bartender met him as he approached the counter to collect on the free ale the Stallion always provided for its musicians. He received his drink with an enthusiastic set of thanks and turned so his back rested against the bar. Maybe this place wasn't as bad as his old master made it out to be.

[Hisoka]

Hisoka walked into the tavern, looking around, her clear, blue eyes wide and filled with curiosity. She was careful to keep her bandaged hands hidden in her long sleeves, perhaps out of embarrassment. She looked up at Crypt, who had held the door for her upon entering. "So many people!", she said in surprise. She turned back to the tavern, her long, black hair, swaying whenever she turned her head. Hisoka sniffed, smelling all of the smells, tasteful, and otherwise, that occupied the busy tavern, wrinkling her nose at the stench of old ale and sweat. However, she decided that she did not mind the smell as much, once her stomach began to growl, just barely audible. Taking another sniff, she located the sent of food, and she turned to looked up at Crypt hopefully.

[Crypt]

Crypt smiled as Hisoka expressed her astonishment at seeing what would probably be more people than she had ever seen in her entire life. Just like a child. But tonight is not for silent contemplation; rather, let us have some cheer. Crypt led Hisoka over to an empty table, then shouted over the noise to the proprietor of the Rearing Stallion. “What ho, Kevith! One of your Remi's meals for my friend here, if you please!” Said tavern owner gave Crypt a wink, then repeated his order to his wife. Crypt placed 6 silver mizas on the table, then turned to Hisoka. “Hisoka, stay here and have your dinner. I'm going to earn some coin, so don't worry, I won't leave you here alone.” Crypt walked over to the raised dais, where quite a few people were already gathered, listening to the fading notes of a well-played lute, shouting out compliments to the musician, who apparently was now taking his break. Crypt stepped onto the dais gracefully, giving a bow to his audience, who returned it with more cheers, especially from those that recognised him. “Evening, my fair ladies, gentlemen,” Crypt made a bow to the left and to the right, “After that stunning performance demonstrating how to play a lute, it's my turn now. Tonight, I will be telling you of a little story I heard in Alvadas...” Crypt paused, adding to the tension. The crowd was now more quiet, though loud whispers could still be heard. “...Of a boy and his cat. This isn't true, this didn't happen, but why bother about all that? A tale's a tale, that's enough for us simple folk.” The crowd cheered, some urging him on to stop delaying and start telling the story. “Hearken to me! Once, there was a boy named Arthan nearing adulthood. He was handsome enough, but he was of a poor family - they worked hard in the fields like many here. His only companion was a cat, Which went by the name of Manx. But he was destined for greater things...”

[Rhylund Vauler]

The mug of ale lowered from Rhylund's lips followed by a satisfied sigh: the ale was either better than he expected or it had been too long since he had indulged in drink. Movement from the corner of his vision caught his attention as a stout man departed from a young lady with striking blue eyes and made his way onto the dais. His dais. The corner of his mouth turned down into a small frown at the man's well executed bow: three songs in and he was being replaced? However, the disapproval lacing his features melted into curiosity as more than a few voices calling out from the crowed marked this man as familiar entertainment. He remained leaning back with his elbows propped against the bar as he listened to the preface of the tale-to-be-told. His head tilted as the new comer announced that the tale was a fictitious one. Now why did he go an sully the suspense? His thoughts echoed with a touch of amusement as the suspense seemed to be live and well amongst the crowd. He listened for a few lines, feeling himself be drawn in by the man's words with a few well placed accents of the tongue and gestures of the hand. His mug froze mid rise as the cogs in his mind began to spin: to turn an unexpected event into one's good fortune was surely the mark of a good showman. He quickly downed his ale and pushed himself up from the bar. The crowed was hanging onto his every word, and the man himself seemed to be lost in the symbiotic return of focused energy by the patrons. He waited for a particularly in depth line before slinking over to the dais to retrieve his lute. Rhylund stood, one foot lifted on the dais with the lute cradled in his arms, and as the man found a break in phrasing for his story, the bard's fingers pulled gently down upon a wide and open chord. He fixed his face in a friendly smile and offered a nod of approval, hoping the storyteller would not halt his tale. As he continued on, Rhylund's fingers tip-toed across the strings, bringing to life the ambient mood and sense of being each word had been intended to carry. Emphasis on the man holding center stage was his game: he'd let this man keep the show nestled firmly in his own lungs. For now.

[Yohan]

Yohan sat atop the Rearing Stallion, the cool night air was comforting to him. Wrapped in his own wings he watched the constant flow of people in and out of the tavern.

He watched as a young couple walked happily inside. His smile towards them couldn't be mirrored in his eyes however. Seeing two people so happy made him long for companionship even more. To his dismay however the tune he had been enjoying inside ended and it seemed to him that another entertainer had stepped up.

He jumped down from the roof, using his wings to alight softly by a window looking into the tavern. Luckily there were no customers sitting at the table there and most of the others were focused on the storyteller. He wrapped his wings around him to imitate a cloak and leaned up against the windowsill, blending into the darkness outside.

Yohan recognized the storyteller as the same man who had just walked inside only moments before with the young girl. He gave a low, grumbling sigh and relaxed to listen to the story.

[Crypt]

Crypt nodded briefly to the musician that had started playing a subtle tune to accentuate his tale. "... Greater things, which he would not know of yet. And though his family was poor, they had just enough to eat every day. A constant hunger filled their stomachs, one that would not be alleviated, even as they struggled to grow more, to find more food. But one year, disaster struck the kingdom." Crypt's voice became more deeper and lower, the expression on his face shifting with it, turning darker and more serious. "One year, the kingdom was struck by what many feared - Drought. The rivers and lakes dried up; the crops withered as the ground became as dry and parched as it could possibly be. The people despaired, for they would not have enough food to survive even a season. There were a lucky few with sufficient food and access to wells where, deep beneath, plentiful groundwater flowed, but they were mostly the nobility. Arthan's family was no rexception; they had a little food, but not enough for him and his brothers. And so the father gave each of them part of what he owned, as much as he was willing to give, and cast them out from his home." Crypt paused, gauging the reactions from the audience. The lights seemed to have grown just a little dimmer, and the tavern was a tad quieter, especially near the raised dais. "Arthan, being the youngest, received only the cat. Cast out of his home, forced to wander the lonely paths of the world alone, Arthan was distraught and confused. But then, lo and behold, his cat spoke to him.” A gasp arose from some of the ladies in the crowd. "Master, master! It said, greatly surprising the boy. But he was too weak to do much, and so merely sat down on a stone step, staring at his cat. Again it spoke, this time rubbing itself against the befuddled Arthan. I can help you get food and drink. All you have to do is to wait here, and make do with the food you have right now. I shall be back in a day. And then Manx slipped into a nearby castle, where a great lord lived with his only daughter, and a multitude of servants fulfilling his every whim and need. Manx searched around the giant kitchens for quite a few chimes, before finally finding what he wanted: a rat. Killing it, he placed the carcass in his mouth and went off to see the great lord. Now, this lord was generous and benevolent. He had been worried for many a day, ever since the drought began, fretting about the peasants that were going hungry and thirsty. All that he could spare was already sent out, but it was not enough. He had petitioned the other lords, but it would take time before they would respond to the plight, and meanwhile many would die. Manx went to his bedroom, where he sat on his chair, thinking to himself and sighing every now and then. There, he started to imitate a kitten, playing and tossing the dead rat in the air. This greatly amused the lord, and, glad to have some diversion from his pressing troubles, watched the cat play with the rat, and laughed as Manx did a particularly nice trick. Once Manx had ended, the lord spoke to him. Noble cat, thank you for relieving me of this most potent headache. If only you could speak; I would grant you something in return. And of course, Manx could speak, and speak he did, shocking the lord so much that he leapt up in the air and nearly screamed like a little girl of seven.” Imitating the actions of the lord in his tale, Crypt caused several people to chuckle and laugh, being rather amused, although he had not screamed as the lord had done so, for it would have been too much. “ My master requires help, it purred. Give us food, clothes and lodging for now. No need for anything elaborate or expensive, my master and I are used to eating little and living simply. The great lord sent a few servants to call for Arthan, and when the lad came before him, he was impressed with his deportment, though Arthan was but a peasant from birth. Give him as his cat requests, men, and see that he is treated well.” Crypt paused for a moment, allowing everything he had said to sink in completely into the minds of the audience, while moistening his dry throat with a few sips of ale.

[Rhylund Vauler]

Rhylund watched the man's back as his lute continued to sing its supporting role. When the storyteller brought word of untimely hardships and the struggles faced by the boy's family, his melody became somber─almost drudging─to leave the audience feeling famished and starving for something more. The strings rang with longing, and a sense of the forlorn, once the lead and his siblings were forced from their home. The air was kept thick, on the verge of discomfort, but the words meshed with music and left the audience blind to anything but the portrait of the boy and his cat that each individual had conjured within their own mind. The lute's tone became curious, mimicking the light footed-timbre that would surely fit a cat. And as the shock of his anomalous ability subsided, the notes began to climb steadily, from grave-grays into a line flirting with the techno-color fluctuation of hope. Then curiosity again, but with something more daring, subtle determination alluding to... triumph!─kept low: the cat was still sneaking, and the sound of the lute was kept in tow. Now the lord of the land was introduced, and with his title came flowing, regal bearing─but as his dignity kept him worried for those who worked the land─so too did the strings maintain a touch of the sadness, of the struggle to feed one's family faced by every common man. But the cat's plan seemed successful, and as the lord watched with pleasure, distracted from the woes brought down by nature upon his people, the melody forgot its own worries and frolicked in conjunction with the playful display. Rhylund could sense the flow of the storyteller's words, with just the faintest glimmer of anticipation as the audience was reminded of the cat's ability to speak. As the wordsmith jumped to display the lord's reaction, his left hand slid down the lute's neck and clutched the highest-pitched fret, and with a small bend the highest string voiced his fright. He couldn't help but smile right along with crowd. His fingers resumed their dance while the instrument rang with approval for the cat's selfless deed. It was modest at first to match the humble demands, but as the lord agreed and the man was called forth the mood was once again royal, the hopeless aftertaste of the condemned was pleasantly absent.

[Hisoka]

Hisoka watched as Crypt enraptured the audience's attention, smiling when the bard had joined in, for she loved music. However, though she had been educated in such things, she was a Kelvic, holding little interest for stories, and so, her eyes began to wander the tavern. As she did so, some movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. With her enhanced vision, she could see a figure by the window, though she could not make its exact shape. If she had been in her lupine form, her ears would have been pricked forward. As it was, the tavern owner, who Crypt had called "Kevith", came by with some dishes of food, and pulled out a seat in a position where he would be able to view the dais. "Who might you be, young lady?", he asked. Hisoka met his eyes, tilting her head. He must have seen something in the depths of those twin, blue circles, for he nodded slightly to himself. "A Kelvic.. how unusual in these parts..", he said quietly. After that, he leaned back, enjoying the story that was unfolding in his fine establishment. Deciding that he would hold no threat of any kind, she sented her food, and satisfied, began to eat. Though the figure outside intrigued her, she left it for a later time, instead, choosing to enjoy her meal. Smiling, she looked back at the two entertainers, and hummed in tune with the bard's well played, supporting melody. A few moments later, Kevith stood, excusing himself, for his wife was calling, he departed, leaving her to her once again, empty table.

[Yohan]

Yohan unwrapped his wings, pulling them together behind him. For a little while, he forgot that he was an outsider. Enchanted by the sound of the music and the story it had completely left him that he was hiding. He placed his hands on the windowsill.

As the storyteller jumped at the lords reaction and the musician played along, Yohan even let out a brief chuckle. Instantly however he ducked under the windowsill, not wanting to be seen. But he leaned his back against the wall and heartily enjoyed the story being played out inside.

[Crypt]

“... A year later, once the drought was finally over, the cat spoke again to his master, who had a few chimes' rest from helping out with dinner. Master, I will now help you gain more. Arthan, knowing that his cat had helped him much in the past, consented and asked of him what he would do. But Manx would say nothing but a brief trust me. And so Arthan did. Manx went before the great lord, prostrating before him.Lord! I crave a boon of thee. cried the cat. The lord gestured for him to continue. Long has my master served under you, and it is time to reveal his true identity. He is Arthas, prince of a faraway land, escaping the monsters that have captured his lands and wealth. But they are no more, and he will be returning to his rightful domain. The lord appeared stunned for a moment, then he laughed long and hard. After a few chimes, still wiping the tears of joy off his face, he spoke to the cat.Ah, me... Noble cat, your jokes are as refreshing as the cool spring waters of my land. But pray, convince me of how your master can be such a person.” Crypt was now playing both roles on the dais, imitating the lord - sitting on a chair and trying to appear wise and refined - and Manx - crouching on the floor appearing to look up at the chair. This brought much laughter, even as the crowd swelled. Do you not see his handsome features, that your daughter has so admired for many a day? Do you not observe his grace and princely stature? Though my master is dressed in simple, rough clothes, there will be one day where his robes will be of purple velvet and gold and silver. The lord appeared pensive, watching the cat for any signs of lying. But Manx was more cunning than he, and so appeared to be the perfect picture of truth. Still unconvinced, the lord spoke again. Your words have only convinced me halfway, but I shall indulge you. I will embark on a visit to your prince's lands two score and four days from now. Prepare then. And what would Manx do to ensure that all he said becomes true? Stay a while, my friends, and I shall continue my tale.

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