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Post by Tallaith on Dec 4, 2009 15:05:34 GMT -5
Leasung smiled with brittle warmth to Brendur, glancing sideways to Ceallian as if to ask, "Is it all right if I talk to him?" Ceallian nodded subtly in return, so the younger girl turned back to him.
"I am very well, sir. A little sleepy, since I have been so busy on my travels of late and have not seen a good bed in over a week. But very well." She kept her voice low and moderated it carefully, but she hungrily eyed the pipeweed, her nostrils flaring slightly. "That smells quite nice. My lady cousin does not approve of me smoking, though."
Cay laughed softly and shook her head. "I do not approve of you smoking it near the baby. It makes him sneeze. Regardless, are you hungry?"
Lea nodded slightly, turning her curiousity now on the Elf. "What are you? Some kind of player?" She nodded towards his flute. "Are you any good?"
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Post by khrys on Dec 5, 2009 14:05:11 GMT -5
Berenloth watched the dynamic at the table shift slightly when the girl woke and joined them. There were stories here, undoubtedly.
He pulled more silver from his pouch and asked the server to return once more, the next visit to be with a large single platter of cheese, meats and fruit. "No bread please" he murmured before slipping her another silver to expedite the delivery.
"Yes," he smiled, "a...player. That would be as good a word as any. Although tonight, not as much as I'd like. The pipe weed is available to all who have a bowl to a-fire it with."
He paused enough to draw once more on his pipe and, as he had with the flute, he lightly slid the pipe's flattened mouthpiece across his lower lip, tickling it without being consciously aware of the motion. "This week though, I'm more a Traveller and Seeker I would say."
If you asked Berenloth his profession he would reply "minstrel" by habit, although he did not think himself worthy of the title. He was a sham who played a pipe in order to please and woo - not a true bard who lived, loved and respected the profession and it's implied duties. He didn't record history. He didn't teach the illiterate through song. He simply tried to manipulate people by stirring their faith and paid his debts by rousing their morale. The woman at the table had offered her own husband's clothing to him and so he decided to put down his pipe and pick up his flute once more. Her kindness would be paid back by giving a gift to the sleepy girl that was obviously in Ceallian's care.
Beginning with slow, soft notes, he played a song he had heard at a campfire only a few days ago. A Dwarven minstrel had pulled out his lute and delivered a song whose words were in his own native, ancient language and were impossible for Berenloth to mimic. But he had stolen the tune and kept it in his head. He spilled it now, through his mouth, over his bottom lip and into the pipe. Keeping the volume down, he made it a private moment, available only to those at the table. The song remained slow from start to finish and was three minutes in length - a goodly-timed break before the food was expected to show.
It began as if it were a collection of bird calls - high and sweet - and gradually descended down the scale, moving two full octaves before settling at a G. The effect, when done properly, reminded sea folk of early-morning fog in a harbour and mountain folk of a dark valley lit by night sky stars and moon. It was the sort of song that calmed, and as he played it, his eyes tried to carry the melody. He looked gently at the sleepy girl, offering to lull her into a place of peace.
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Post by Tallaith on Dec 5, 2009 20:13:13 GMT -5
Leasung smiled sweetly as the Elf began to play. She had an inkling that he spun his song more for the benefit of her cousin, but the younger girl considered herself to be a fine judge of a well-formed male. There was no harm in seeing if her cold courtesy could court him; perhaps, if she played herself just in the right way, this stranger could become a very needed ally.
She blinked the last of her weariness back. It was always present in her awareness of late, and there never seemed to be enough hours of quiet or dark to appease it. Soon, she hoped, she could catch up on much neglected sleep, but first, there were so many questions to be answered and plans to be laid.
Ceallian turned to Brendur to pass some quiet pleasantries, leaving Leasung alone as a captive and attentive audience. When the song wove to a close, Cay clapped with a bright smile for the player, but Leasung only watched him still, critical, as if she were awaiting his next slight-of-hand.
"That was... different. Lively, I should say. A fair tune, but do you buy your supper and bed playing a flute all night?" Leasung offered him a small smile, arching a brow in challenge.
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Post by khrys on Dec 6, 2009 10:33:14 GMT -5
Berenloth's relaxed attitude changed to curiosity as Leasung flipped the word 'lively' at him. He blinked once before delight flooded him.
The Elves were leaving, and by that his kind were becoming scarce compared to a hundred years back. His race was the beautiful one (oh, how we crave the dirty roughness of Man) and he was used to his presence being influential on strong-willed folk and downright overwhelming on the weak. He had tuned his charisma with the same dedication given to tuning his other instruments: it's job was to open doors for him. To grant him anything he wanted when he was in the company of Man.
And now it had failed against this sleepy, little human. Completely and utterly. The challenge almost awoke the hunter inside.
He hid his true thoughts from his face and stifled the wolf-smile, "Nay. Several bags of quality tea leaves earned me the comforts of the Boar's Head room on the second floor for the next few days. But our repast comes from coin that was errantly dropped from some Goblins that decided to wander too close to Combe."
Pushing the tobacco pouch to the side, he leaned back in his chair and allowed the arriving food a space on the table. He nodded at the presentation: the meat was still steaming with heat and the cheese had it's wheel-skin trimmed from the ends. All-in-all this was becoming one of the best evenings he had enjoyed in over a month. Draining the last drop of his mug he nodded to Brendur, "I appear to have hit bottom yet again. Perhaps you can remedy that, Master Brendur?"
"And Lady Ceallian, I gladly accept your offer of better attire and will reimburse you as best I can. Simply name the time and place that we may meet."
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Post by Tallaith on Dec 6, 2009 13:07:34 GMT -5
Leasung wrinkled her nose but remembered herself in time to replace the expression with a more appropriately courteous smile. "Ah. Then.. a tradesman. Of sorts. Like many others, traveling from battlefield to battlefield to pick through for a few coppers." Her tone was light, almost joking, but her distaste couldn't be concealed in her eyes.
Ceallian hushed Leasung swiftly, shooting her "that" sort of look, before turning to the Elf and bowing her head deeply. "Forgive my cousin, eie leord. She is not always as polite as she should be, but there are very good reasons for her lack of civility at times. I cannot make excuses, but I can apologize for her."
Leasung scowled at the older girl but held her peace, pushing herself back from the table a few inches in a tiny gesture of defiance. If these people didn't want to hear her opinion, she would spare them from it, the movement said.
Biting back an exhasperated sigh, Cay dismissed the girl and tried to change the topic. She turned her attention fully to Berenloth. "Aye, eie leord. I may not have time to make you full suits of new clothes, but my husband has a companion, Anoth, whose things could easily be altered for you. Perhaps tomorrow we could meet in the tailor shop near the West Gate? Sometimes I use the little room over it."
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Post by khrys on Dec 6, 2009 15:27:42 GMT -5
Berenloth nodded, reaching out to spear a chunk of cheese with a platter fork. The wedge had been sitting almost atop the meat and had that soft, chewy texture that assured the sharp flavour woudl stay in your mouth for minutes after you'd swallowed.
He put it in his mouth, nodding as his tongue pushed the delicious taste first to the roof of his mouth, then rolled it to the back of his tongue. He let it drift through the back of his throat and up into his nose before swallowing it. The smile that came after was an appreciation of both the pleasure of the moment and the offer she had made.
"Most decidedly. I will meet with you after dawn and look forward to it."
He settled in to his chair, prepared for the enjoyment of the next couple hours. Two odd females, a polite minstrel to his right, a challenging Ser to his left, the tavern crowd, his flute, his pipeweed...so many perfect ingredients that would send him to bed, content with Bree.
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