Flashback [Guest ST] Simply Irrelevant

[Aoren]

86th of Winter, 509 AV
18th Bell

For as fearsome of a reputation as Ravok had it was surprisingly…lacking in malefic and nefarious things afoot. The people were running about their daily activities doing perfectly mundane things. The bakers were baking. The candlestick makers were candlestick making. The guards were guarding. The brewers were brewing and the debaucherers were up to all manner of debauchery.

As it stood, there was on that very day a man who specialized in the art of indulgence. He was a man who made a living off astonishing people with a glimpse at awe and mystery. That very man sat in a well-lit corner of the Silver Sliver Inn smoking pipe tobacco with a mischievous glint in his mint green eyes. He was a very odd sight. The man was quite obviously elder in years.

His hair had long since turned a steely grey. His face was wrinkled though it was hard to tell from the large beard that sprouted forth from his chin. He wore a pointed hat atop his head embellished with crescent moons, bright starbursts, and blazing suns. He wore long flowing robes with patterns to match his hat and pointy slippers on his feet. Several bejeweled rings glittered on his gnarled fingers sparkling in the light. This strangely dressed old man was far from quiet, oh no. He had in his hands a lute, which he played quite awfully, and between smoking the pipe and playing his lute he was making a scene…much to the delight of the patrons.

“Knock her knickers
And tap her jars!
The ladies they make fine mugs on the bars!

Fill them with ale,
Or fill them with wine,
It’s all just the same if you drink right on time!

Because wenches they swoon!
And wenches, they ahhh!
It makes for a sight, when you’re there right on top!

Because it’s a war lads,
A war you can’t win,
A battle of wills, so it’s best just give in!

So drop your armors,
Just take a sip,
You’ll find the drink’s lovely if you just take a dip!

So, drink, drink, drink till the morn,
And when the sun rises, drink till you’re sore!

Because one thing is true lads,
It’s true far and near,
If you fill up a wench,
No dry spells you’ll fear!”

The patrons watching the old man’s lewd performance were roaring with laughter. The drink was flowing quite steadily that evening and the songs that were abound in the tavern only added to the light hearted atmosphere. The sounds of merriment would welcome any weary soul looking to brighten their mood. Those down on their luck or looking for a reprieve from the days many troubles would certainly find good company and plentiful entertainment within the establishment that evening.

As he watched the crowd busy themselves with one thing or another the old man set down his lute on the surface of the table he sat at. He took his pipe out of his mouth and picked up a mug of silvery liquid then drank deeply from it. The spark of mischief never left his eyes as he scanned the crowd over the rim of his mug. He seemed to be searching for something. Maybe he was looking for a slattern with which to spend his evening? Perhaps he was simply watching the results of his vulgar song wash over the patrons? Or maybe he was searching for something else?

Maybe…maybe…

Note for FallonWelcome to your thread, Ms. Fallon! I hope this proves to be a marvelous adventure for us both.

PermissionThread outline approved by Abstract, DS of Ravok.

[Fallon]

Fallon was hungry, or at least that was what the gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach told her. It sunk its teeth into her innards, the snuffling growl rumbling out in complaint to its emptiness. Cheeks puffed, her brow falling into a line as she sat within the Inn - the Silver something - her hands tightly grasped around her throbbing head. Eyes gave a blink as she stared into the bottom of her cup, the tired expression on her face and an untidy mass of hair slipping between her fingers. She was broke - or near as close to as possible. Finding work was a difficult task, things were tight and the long winter season continued to pass on without a moment of respite.

Yet here she was, staring into the bottom of her empty drink as she tried to think. Or more than just think, she needed a plan to put into action, a goal to help her get out of the city come the Spring. For although things did seem rather pleasant at times, and the architect something to behold - there was always that ever present niggling feeling of unease crawling up her spine as if she was being watched. Her gnosis gave a throb in response, a gentle pulse beneath the glove serving as a reminder. Learn, understand, grow wise in what information before her.

The girl released a snort. The only wisdom before her now was to turn down any future prospects to go to Ravok, it was a trap. Blinking she moved a hand down to pinch the bridge of her nose and then down to the cup. Empty par for a few dregs, like her stomach, like her coin pouch and like her mind of ideas. Her lip gave a twitch, the lid of her eye pinching in irritation. Somewhere a man was singing some dreadful song, the thrumming beat of strings out of tune reverberating out behind it. And that only proved to worsen her already sore head.

Think about it Fallon, you're how old? Sixteen? Seventeen? Maybe? And you're drowning yourself already into an early grave of alcohol and emptying the bucket, there was only a mumbling of a grunt as she reconciled with her thoughts into some strange pep-talk, So, your cup is empty? You just need to fill it. Come now there must be something around here that can score you a few Mizas. Nostrils flared, and she returned to pressing her forehead into her palm.

The old man was still singing, attention drawn upon himself without a flicker of a second thought. What confidence willed him into doing such thing was beyond her, but as the patrons around her cheered along with his lewd lyrics the girl simply watched with tired eyes. Merriment was not beyond her normally, but in such an occasion as this it was becoming increasingly difficult. Still, she managed to watch the colourful man who sparkled in the light with the curl upon her lips. It was amusing to watch after all.

Leaning back she gave a sigh, and returned her musing to the rim of her cup if not for the occasional flicker away from it to the surrounding patrons. For a while little more than chatter hummed in the air, the gentle chink of cups of men in cheer and the occasional glance towards her. She was an unusual and foreign face after all. When those eyes did eventually land upon her however, she gave only a blink in response and quickly dipped her gaze down one more - believing that if she simply ignored him, the gaze would pass over and carry on.

Hopefully.

[Aoren]

"You know," Suddenly the old gentleman who had been singing quite horribly was standing beside Fallon's table. How had he gotten there? Surely he hadn't just appeared next to her. More importantly, why was he there? "They say that a lady's frown is an illness that even Vayt steers clear of."

There the old man stood in all his glory. He couldn't have been more than five feet and seven inches or so tall. His shoulders were stooped. His face painted with wrinkles. His attire was quite flamboyant but given his apparent age it was doubtful anyone would think twice about it. His eyes however, held a distinct sharpness to them. Those green irises had zeroed in on the adolescent though for what purpose? Who knew? He took a long drag on his pipe then promptly blew the smoke right in Fallon's direction.

"Why the sighs, Bright Eyes?" He gave her a wink. Never mind that Fallon had neither asked for his company nor wanted it he seated himself across from her. He grunted and fidgeted making himself comfortable. He adjusted his hat and smoothed his robes. He then flicked a wrist seemingly producing a single gold Miza from thin air. He rolled the coin over his knuckles toying with it absentmindedly.

"It has been my experience that the quickest way to a smile on someone's face is to help them forget the reason they're frowning." He waved down a barmaid then pressed the coin into her hand. "How's about a nice mug of silvery goodness there, my lovely?" He gave the barmaid a wink and received a giggle in return.

The old man flicked his wrist again producing another coin which he toyed with absently. He smoked his pipe through the side of his mouth. His eyes studied Fallon carefully. He removed the pipe from his mouth just as the mug of liquor arrived. He pushed it toward Fallon using the stem of his pipe.

"So, what is a spry young lass like you doing in a place like this?"

[Fallon]

Fallon sunk into her chair. Her eyes gave a blink, her shoulders hunching in as she looked up to the garishly dressed man. For a moment her lips opened as if to say something, the mind spurring into speaking if anything. Her head cocked to one side, perplexity filling her face and her hand becoming limp on its hold of the cup. There was another blink, her eyes darting from him to where he was once standing and then returning - until she got a mouthful of tobacco smoke. Coughing she snapped her head away and searched for cleaner air, her hand rising as if to shoo away the smoke before speaking, "Be careful, if it is such a dangerous illness it must also be contagious."

With a wince she took the man in properly, her entire form leaning back in her chair. It hurt almost to look at him, the bold colours no doubt being the sure fire sign he was eccentric to some degree or another. More so when he gave her a wink. Arms folding defensively she gave a snort, her head turning away. No doubt he was thinking something, or attempting to pick up some piece of accessory for his arm - and Fallon alas had the curse of being his chosen target for now.

"No reason," she grunted and kept her gaze focused on anything else other than him, "No reason at all." Her stomach gave a loud, definite growl in protest. With a sigh and a tracing of a blush, her shoulders sunk in defeat. This was not a battle of words she could win. She gave a fidget on the spot, her gaze slowly sweeping over to him followed by an awkward shuffle on the spot. Thumbs twiddled, and there was a shrug, "I... well... I think you heard that."

Her eyes followed after the coin for a moment, watching it dance between the digits, "This reason might be a bit hard to forget. As for why I'm here..." there was another shrug followed by her fingers fishing down for her coin pouch, "Seems like as good of place as any to be. It was here or falling into the bed bored stupid. Again." Picking her pouch up she wriggled her gloved fingers within it, and then produced a coin of equal value. Sliding it across the table with a wince to him - she knew she could not really afford to do so - she took the mug and then spoke once more, "I work for things, not take them for free. I'm sure a gentleman such as yourself can understand that."

With a drop of the pouch she focused upon the shimmering surface of the drink, her brow falling into a focused line, "So why are you in such a place like this? Trying to pick up ladies with your lewd lyrics? Maybe you should try harder."

[Aoren]

The old man threw his head back letting out a boisterous guffaw. His whole figure shook with the intensity of his amusement. Reaching up he wiped away a tear that rolled from one of his eyes. He gave Fallon a nod of his head as his chuckling subsided.

“Well, I’ll be. You’ve got quite the wit on you, Bright Eyes.” He popped the pipe back into his mouth taking a long drag from it before blowing the smoke out of his nostrils. His mint green eyes bored into her as if searching for something beyond the surface. He listened to her words still toying with the coin in his hand, rolling it over his fingers.

“Everyone goes everywhere for one reason or another whether they know it or not. Such is the game the gods play with our lives.” He flashed her a cheesy grin before leaning forward flipping the coin in his fingers onto the table. It bounced once before landing neatly on top of the one Fallon had slid toward him. With a sweep of his hand across the surface of the table the old man picked up both coins then flicked his wrist. The coins were then gone from view, vanishing to the unknown…or to the depths of the old man’s ludicrously large sleeves.

“You work, do you? Well by the litany your stomach is singing to me, it sounds like work isn’t being very kind to you at the moment.” The old man leaned forward a little further reaching forth almost as if he were about to brush aside a stray strand of hair from Fallon’s face. He stopped short of the side of her head only to pull his hand back. Between his fingers were now three golden mizas. He held them up for her to see. “What say you earn your coin back along with that drink and an additional coin for your troubles?”

The old man folded his fingers together then opened them. The coins were gone. Whatever this man’s game was he was a trickster that was for certain. The way he spoke made one suspect he had a hidden agenda. The way he conducted himself however was as that of a harmless old fool intent entirely on gaining the favor of a pretty young lady. The glint in his eyes though suggested something else entirely. What was that something? No doubt it would take a little investigating to uncover. He leaned back in his chair tapping the tip of the pipe against his chin. At Fallon’s inquiry as to his reasons for being in the Silver Sliver he smirked.

“Now don’t go getting your saucy bits in a tizzy, lass. You might attract a plethora of handsome young fools but you’ll not have the pleasure of entertaining this seasoned veteran. Trust me girl, when I say you’re ill prepared for the wonders I could shower upon your virgin head.” The lecherous old codger gave Fallon another wink. He took another drag on his pipe blowing the smoke in Fallon’s direction then spoke, his tone a bit more businesslike.

“No, I’ve come looking for an assistant. A pretty young lass to help me with my performance. What performance, you say? Well I’m glad you asked!” Obviously Fallon hadn’t asked but he proceeded as if she had, completely disregarding any input on her part. “Allow me to introduce myself, Cadmus the Stupendous, Magician, Mystic, and Vilifier of Awful Ales, at your service.”

Cadmus tipped his hat to her ever so slightly before placing the tip of his pipe back into his mouth. He sat back in his chair awaiting her response to his glamorous introduction.

[Fallon]

Fallon squirmed in her seat. She was feeling the niggling discomfort as the old man laughed. Her shoulders hunched in, her eyes not quite knowing where to look. So she had managed to entertain, what of it? It was only quick wit and a sharp tongue. Anyone could have thought it up. She sheepishly scratched at her neck, her eyes looking around before settling onto his smoking pipe. It seemed to be the only thing that was not overly garish within the close vicinity. Her brow continued to hold the frown, a flicker to the coins being snatched away and slipped out of sight.

Her head cocked to one side as he spoke, nothing but silence at first to his questioning. Her head leaned back as he hovered close, reflex almost to escape his probing fingers. She did not fancy the idea of being touched by his finger tips, her vivid imagination did little to assist in calming such a notion. After all, who knew where they had been? A shudder, a flicker to the three coins within his fingers and within an offering left only to catch and captivate her. Three, whole, gold. She could already taste the next meal within her mouth - dangling teasingly within reach.

"Aye, I work," she folded her arms defensively, "Or try to. I do what I can when I can. Within reason." Her eyes snatched away from the coins and then to him, challenging almost to speak up, "I'm no harlot. I'd rather get my hands dirty then sell myself in such a fashion." A snort, a turn of the head as the coins disappeared once more out of sight and into - probably - the dark abyss of his sleeves. There was an exhale and it was with two hands she firmly grasped onto her mug and drunk from it. She needed a delay in weighing up his offer, to not allow herself to jump to at it without proper thought and consideration.

Her stomach released a second growl, a sickening twist as she began to try and fill it with alcohol.

Placing the drink down she looked him square on, business-like in tone and her fingers lacing together as she took him in. What was his game? What did he actually want? She pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes looking over her hand to him, "What sort of assistant? What sort of performanc- Never mind." She exhaled as he spoke, a flurry of words and a hurried explanation. Eyes slid shut for a moment, a long pause as she sucked in the air, "Well Mister Cadmus, I... you mean I'm at your service. If I am to be your assistant after all. I... how do you want me to help? I'm not stage worthy, or unpractised in it at least. And what sort of magic? You going to wiggle your hands and do fancy card tricks? Or sprout fire from your finger tips?"

And then she cocked a thumb back to herself, "Fallon Skylar, Young Scholar, Traveller, and Delver of History and Adventure when not hungry, at your service." A firm nod was given, "When we starting?"

[Aoren]

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about being stage worthy, Bright Eyes. We’ll have you whipped into shape and all smiles and wiles in no time.” He chuckled tapping the butt of his pipe upon the surface of the table. “This is going to be an adventure you won’t soon forget.”

The old man waved over one of the barmaids. The weight of his statement left one to wonder what sort of adventure this wily stage magician was talking about. What sort of magic was he going to perform? Was he going to perform real magic or was he just a con man looking to make a quick miza? Regardless, he seemed fairly confident in himself which was enough to make one believe that whatever he could do, he could do it well. As the barmaid arrived Cadmus gave her a smile. He deposited a few mizas into the woman’s hand.

“Give us a few meals here, the house special tonight should do just fine. Oh, and another Silver Sliver if you please?” The woman nodded giving Cadmus a wink. He gave the barmaid a big cheesy grin before turning his attention back to Fallon.

“So, here’s the deal, as my assistant your first and most important job is to look as amazed as possible at all of my antics. Your second job is to act as an accessory to my tricks. Don’t worry, I will go through the steps with you tomorrow morning as we rehearse the show. Finally, your third job is help keep people interested. Are you any good as improvisation?”

Part of the way through whatever explanation Fallon might have had to offer the barmaid returned with two plates heaped with freshly cooked food. She set them in front of Cadmus and Fallon respectively to which the magician gave her a tip of his hat. The gesture earned him another wink as she also set his drink in front of him. Upon the plates would be found steaming roast beef over delectable mashed potatoes with a brown gravy on top. Mixed vegetables and white rice complimented the potatoes and roast beef. The old man smacked his lips.

“Mhmm, now that is a proper meal right there. So, Bright Eyes, what do you say? Are you ready to be amazed and amaze others in the process?” Cadmus speared a piece of roast beef scooping up a bit of mashed potatoes and gravy along with it. He popped the morsel into his mouth chewing with a surprising amount of table manners. He was not loud or obnoxious in his eating as he seemed to be in everything else. He picked up his beverage and drank from it heartily. As he set it down he extended a hand to Fallon. It was a thin hand denoting the life of a scholar as opposed to a laborer. Like his other hand it was covered in bejeweled rings that sparkled in the light.

Whatever his angle, Cadmus either came from a family of money or he really was a successful magician. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he awaited Fallon's final decision.

"Shall we shake on it?"

[Fallon]

"Good thing I like adventure," she managed to mumble as she took a second, longer slurp from her drink. She let the bitterness of the liquid roll down, the distinct scent of hops filling her senses, "A good adventure and a story to go with it are even better though. Maybe if things play out then there shall be more to tell." Her fingers rubbed upon her forehead, a lean back into the chair as she stared into the depths. He certainly was confident, if not in seating then in the way he held himself so surely. A man of coin and a silver tongue, an entertainer at heart - and it was such a base thing that even Fallon found appealing. Even that inner story teller gave a turn in reciprocation to his.

"Look amazed? Well, as long as you do something amazing that will be an easy feat," Her finger traced the top of the cup, and then darted down to the food as it made itself present. The cup was placed down, a slide forward for a closer inspection. For a moment she paused, a deep inhale as she took in the scents. A chew on the lip, the lid twitching as she simply looked. There was a moment of contemplation, on whether to maintain some level of etiquette or to simply dive in head first - and throw manners to the wind. Taking up the knife and fork she wriggled closer, her eyes darting up to the man opposite her.

A pause, an almost crouch over the food as she considered his offer. It was a proper meal, she could almost taste it within her mouth. Sucking back the air, she halted her salivation as the man presented his table manners with much grace and control, even as he extended the somewhat slender hand across the table. Eyes blinked, a pause as she considered it, "If it's just for tricks then I shall be an accessory, I... may need help with remembering the steps. Or the prompts at least." She lowered her cutlery and extended her hand out to shake, "Improvisation I... never had to try it, guess there is one way to find out though." She shrugged, the gloved hand squeezing around his, "I say deal."

The hand slipped away after that, her attention turning down to the meal. She paused, a few carefully decided mouthful, a low hum of approval with those careful chews. A wipe of the mouth upon the back of the hand, a careful slurp of her drink as she let the warmth of food fill her. Inards clawed at the food as she swallowed, and then promptly forgo any good graces that may have been in place - she was far too hungry at present. A gentle scrape, a quick shovel of substances as she tried to consume as quickly as possible. Almost as if worried it would be snatched away if she did not.

A hearty sigh, the shoulders slumping as she slowed her pace down and allowed herself to speak, "So, rehearsing. Performance... I don't have to wear any silly costumes right? Or... what will..." she shook her head, the brow forming into a line as she took in another mouthful, chewed and then continued, "Do something amazing and I will be amazed. Or possibly be so surprised that I leap from the stage out of shock... But, let's work on adding entertainer to the personal repertoire." And with that she took up the last few scraps of her meal and finished, "When, where and what bell do you want me?"

[Aoren]

The old man met Fallon’s gaze with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. His spindly fingers wrapped around hers giving it a steady shake. When he released it Cadmus leaned back in his chair taking a drag on his pipe. It was a miracle the tobacco hadn’t charred at this point. Nevertheless, he seemed content with whatever it was contained in the basin of the pipe. Inhaling he exhaled through his nostrils with an audible sigh.

“Oh, you will be amazed Bright Eyes. You can be sure of that.” Whatever remained of his meal he left on the table free to be eaten up if Fallon so chose. He made no move to finish it. Waving a hand dismissively he gave her a good natured wink.

“Rest assured I will have you properly trained and strutting around like a professional in due time.” He chuckled. “As for costumes, well I certainly have an outfit for you. Now, don’t get all grumpy on me. It’s nothing saucy. After all, I am a man who prides himself on being quite presentable.”

He gave her a tip of his ludicrous hat. One had to wonder what exactly Cadmus’s definition of presentable was. It was not a far-fetched idea to envision him pulling a gaudy, flashy, lace embellished dress out of his billowing sleeves complete with ridiculous shoes and matching jewelry. No, that would not be a difficult thing to envision at all. Given the glint in his eye it would seem he didn’t have a hard time picturing that either.

“You will arrive here tomorrow morning not a minute past the 8th Bell. We will rehearse, we will rehearse again and we will rehearse again until I am confident that you can at least pick up on the queues adequately.” He nodded adopting a puzzled expression for a moment. He chewed on the tip of his pipe before huffing and giving yet another affirmative nod.

“For now though? Have your fill of food, sit back and enjoy the show.” He gave Fallon a wide grin rising from the table. There were a few pops and cracks announcing that his bones didn’t quite agree with his movements. Meandering back over to his corner, Cadmus produced a lute plucking the strings loudly to get everyone’s attention. When it was apparent that the gathered had pulled themselves from their conversations and at least a good number of people had directed their attention to him he cleared his throat. Plucking the strings of the lute he produced a wobbly twang that really was quite terrible to hear.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Your eyes if you please? Your ears, if you have them. Your tongues, you can keep. I’ve an announcement for you, so make not a peep!” There were a few grumbles and hushed queries as to who the looney old man in the ridiculous outfit was.

The staff of the Silver Sliver only smiled and watched. Cadmus made his way to a raised platform against one of the walls in the room. It looked as if it had only recently been placed there and was not a permanent fixture in the establishment. He whirled around to face the crowd once he was there. Holding up his lute he plucked at the strings continuing his dreadful tune until one of the strings popped and broke causing him to jerk back and frown. The antic made the crowd chuckle. He tossed the lute aside winking at Fallon as he met her eyes then cleared his throat drawing himself up.

“What business, you might ask, bring me here today? Why, it’s really quite simple I’ve come here to say…” Cadmus spread his hands wide knocking the brim of his hat into his eyes. He made a show of flapping his hands and looking disgruntled which elicited some laughter from the crowd. He straightened his hat glaring at the brim then resumed his broad grin.

“…I’ve come here to say you’re in for treat! A delight! A joy! A show that’s quite neat!” Cadmus wiggled his fingers and waved his arms in a comical and arcane manner. He grasped the brim of his hat tipping it to the audience.

“My name is Cadmus. I am a magician. A sorcerer too!” He wove his hands together and suddenly there was a flash of light as a plume of blue smoke appeared in front of him. Cadmus wove his hands through the smoke strumming his fingers almost as if he were plucking the strings of a harp. The smoke then took on the shape of a harp before he made it dissipate with a wave of a hand. There were a few exclamations from the crowd but nothing overly substantial. He was drawing them in. Setting the proverbial stage.

“I find myself, folks, in a position to entertain you.” He flicked his wrist producing, seemingly from thin air, a strip of red silk cloth. He made a fist then began tucking it into his fist with the other hand. “So watch closely my friends, know your money is well spent. For this one simple reason…”

Cadmus smiled holding up the fist that now supposedly held the silk cloth. His green eyes came to rest on Fallon and there was a wicked glint in them. Amusement danced on the old man’s face.

“…that reason is simply irrelevant.” The old magician opened the palm of his hand and released a rope of flame that spiraled forth from his fingers. It burst forth from his hand flaring as it took on the shape of a sun before Cadmus wove his other hand over the flames and suddenly they were extinguished. The audience in the tavern were riveted now. Many burst out into applause but the show had just begun.

Cadmus’s show lasted for a good thirty chimes. He performed a number of routines involving seemingly conjuring playing cards from out of thin air, making them vanish, conjuring a rose from a burning hanky, levitation of small objects and a number of pyrotechnic routines. By the time his act was finished he had the entire tavern applauding vigorously and cheering. At the end one of the tavern waiters brought a staff over to him which he leaned on as he hobbled back over to Fallon’s table. He slid down into the chair opposite of her then flicked his wrist producing a white cloth which he used to wipe his brow.

“Well then, Bright Eyes, I hope you’re ready. That was just the opening act. Tomorrow? That’s when the real show goes down and with your help, it will be fantastic.” He gave her a wink then waved one of the waitresses over taking a mug of cold ale off of her tray. He raised the mug in Fallon’s direction then drank from it heartily.

What had Fallon gotten herself into?

NoteFeel free to transition us to the following morning, Ms. Fallon.

[Fallon]

”I’ll be the judge of that,” Fallon simply cocked an eyebrow at him. She would believe it when she saw it, much like the supposedly presentable outfit that she would be suited and booted in. Either way she continued to chew her way through the food that was before her. She was still hungry in honesty, thus it took no real encouragement for the hand to slip its way round and drag the plate before her. A slower pace this time, there was no pushing urgency other than the feeling of simply being stuffed with food. There was only the nod in understanding to the man, her mind remembering the times to the best of her ability. Eight bell, she could do that, she knew she could.

Watching him rise she took another mouthful of the leftovers, a wipe of the lips with the back of the hand. His cracking, the twang of the lute string as he put on a show. Words fell from his lips, an entertainer’s voice announcing itself across the tavern. Rhyming, the teasing tones as he made himself known to the grumbling audience. Even the staff paused to watch she noticed, as the lute was tossed to one side. A squirm within her seat when those eyes turned to her, a glance down to the plate to escape the lecherous gaze. She did wonder in what exactly she had gotten herself into, but at that moment in time she really did not care. Payment would come after all.

Finishing off his plate, she leaned back within the chair to watch – hand beneath her chin as this wrinkled old Cadmus made himself known. There was something that did however make her sit up. The flash, the rich hues of smoke dancing upon the air, twisting and pulling into unusual shapes. Eyes blinked, darting, looking, and searching for as to how it occurred. A narrow, a chew of the lip as she paused. Fingers gave a drum upon the surface, that rhythm playing out. Jaw tightened. Magic? The use of Djed? Or was it some clever use of hands and illusions. Smoke and mirrors? Nostrils flared, the dancing of the cloth upon the air the performance that opened its way before the drawn in audience. And it continued so for the full act, until even with her eyes still wide the man sat himself down. She simply nodded, and it was only after those few chimes of pure dumbstruck that she managed to excuse herself and promptly left.

When morning finally came, it was with sluggish start. Sleep had been restless at best, constantly summoning images of a gaudily dressed old man in all of his colours. The head gave a swim, a fall out of the cramped cot before she scrambled up. A blur, it took her a few moments to register what she needed to do. Alas, the man was no dream, nor was the impulsive taking of the offer of work. Fallon groaned. A stumble, a stagger, layers were pulled, a moment to gather her thoughts and spur herself forward. It was a mad run out of the door after that. Ticks turned into chimes, each running away out of her fingers and into the coming winter light. Time keeping was never her forte, she knew that now as she made that mad dash to the Silver Sliver – fearful almost that she would arrive late.

The coat was still within her grasp, boots absent from being done up and the old familiar upon the back. Hands pressed upon the door of the tavern, a string of laboured breaths escaping as she paused. A grip upon the handle, the pulling of some semblance of order and the quick running of the gloved hand through her hair to remove the tangles. Stepping in, she gave a glance, pulling the coat around her form a quick turn of the head to the mulling staff as she searched for her contractor. A cough, the stifling of a yawn, she raised her voice slightly, ”I’m looking for Cadmus? Is he even about?” She gave a frown and the rub of her eye, ”Too petching early for this.”

NoteHope that did the job for you Mr. Aoren.