"I have not tried my hand at musical production. The fundamentals seem to be based on logic and mathematics, but final production has a dissatisfying lack of permanence."
"Although the production of musical instruments or music boxes, seems like a worthy endeavour."
Mordikaiturns back to the magical performance.
"Indeed, this performer seems to be giving magic a bad reputation with the locals."
Mordikaiwatches as the juggler and then the poem reader have there second rounds, commenting,
"It would seem this city lacks much in the way of talent, is this normal for a smaller city?"
As Serwa's turn comes around Mordikaicomments again,
"This one seems to have talent for her chosen art form though."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Serwa
OOC: If there is time in between the rounds of performance Serwa would have popped out for a quick drink to steady her nerves before her second performance, which could be an opportunity to interact with other PCs. If time did not allow - and she did spend some time collecting herself - she would remain in costume and proceed to the second round.
I will again roll the 1d20+Charisma+Perform Skill Proficiency first, and describe based on result.
The first performance was too emotionally raw for her to repeat, she realizes. On some level she knows the effect on the crowd was good, but dancing the way she danced with Lily brought too many memories flooding back. She had found herself mourning the girl all over again.
For her second round’s performance, she enacts another traditional Rashemi dance, this one intended for a single dancer. In this performance she reflects more of the stoic and cynical demeanor she typically has carried around Vedui, in essence, she seems more like herself, as he has known her to be. Her face is emotionless, like a doll, staring at some distant fixed point. She still engages in leaps and spins, her technical execution of the moves still quite good, but with much less feeling and innovation this time around.
She dances like a non-Rashemi who has spent a few months studying a foreign style of dance, technically on point with the movements, but lacking the feeling of natural connection for the motion that her prior dance held. Before, she danced in her past, accompanied by a phantom of her lost love. Now, she dances in the present, as the cynical and guarded person she has grown to become.
This time she is less engrossed in the dance, so she will take in the faces of those watching, looking for Vedui and noting any unusual patrons within the tavern that she missed during the prior performance, when she had eyes only for the ghost of Lily, the memories she danced in sync with.
A trickle of sweat appears on his beak. The loft seems pretty crowded and while he'd prefer to stay outside. Seeing the eagerness in Midnight's face he writes(in elvish) "Sure. I have coin as well, I was given to start my journey. 10 gold enough for a drink right?"
A trickle of sweat appears on his beak. The loft seems pretty crowded and while he'd prefer to stay outside. Seeing the eagerness in Midnight's face he writes(in elvish) "Sure. I have coin as well, I was given to start my journey. 10 gold enough for a drink right?"
Midnight
"I think that is plenty, although prices don't seem to be very consistent. I have plenty if needed - the former owner wasn't using them." Seeing her friend look a bit nervous at the crowds and building interior, she suggests, "Maybe we could get a table near the window that isn't crowded and feels a bit more open. I'm used to caverns, but I don't suppose you have many tight locations in the forest."
In the off chance the Loft has any outdoor tables ((patio seating, haha)), she'll suggest there instead.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
First D&D set: 1980 red box. Haven't stopped playing since. :)
The wizard nods as he gets a refill on his drink, moving to pull his tail and wings in closer as people pass by him, not enjoying when others bumped into them. He turns his attention to the dancer and watches her closely. Her movements floored him somewhat as those he had been taught were much more structured and controlled. In the back of his mind he could only imagine the shocked reaction his stuffy family would have.
"I very much enjoy music as much like magic it takes most practitioners years to mold their skills before they can show how tireless work has given them their talents. But like you say some music no matter does not last while some will be played and song for generations to immortalize an event or legendary individual."
After her 2nd performance has been completed, Serwa goes backstage and changes from her colorful dancing garb into her "funeral black" clothes, again dons her chain mail armor, and does a quick inventory to make sure her possessions remain unmolested, collecting her weapons and gear. She then goes out to await the judging. She is unmistakably the same woman who danced before, but to anyone who first noticed her in the colorful garb of a dancer, seeing her now in armor, bearing multiple weapons, and the grim emblem of the god of death, may be somewhat surprising.
She scans for Vedui in the crowd, and also tries to monitor if any results have been posted from this contest, or if there is an announcement forthcoming. The church's edict for her to locate Kaspar Mutsk and inquire about "Fingerbones" still weighs on her mind, but she was sincere in her desire to enjoy the festival activities that appealed to her first, so she keeps her mind in the moment, knowing she will follow through on her duty later, all things in their own time.
A little relieved that she won't have to deal with having discovered a dead body, Noranys dismisses the hand and makes her way back to the main area of the festivities. She decides she might as well see what she can learn about any martial activities in the area, and finds a comfortable spot to study the duelists.
The price of a gold coin seems to make him a touch nonplussed, but after only a moment of consideration, he deposits the coin in the waiting girl's hand. Faire prices. His expression seems to smooth over relatively quickly though, as he considers a few things. (perhaps the fact that the gold wasn't his to begin with.) With an empty stomach, he finds the drink working quickly over him. Despite the noise and the crowd, he relaxes visibly. About halfway through the mug, and he sets it back on the bar to wait for his food. The relief is palpable. The elf rolls the muscles of his neck quietly, and lets his two companions talk aside him. Dark eyes rove the tavern with less concern than-as before.
The talents take to the stage once more, and he finds more interest this time. The magician is frowned at thoughtfully, but his gusto makes the elf nod; even clapping a couple times along with the rest. There is a keen interest in the juggler; and an open wince when he almost drops the last club-pin-thing. Ilvisar can be seen moving his hands over his lap in the same manner....perhaps trying to figure out the juggling aspect.
When Serwa takes to the stage again, he leans back against the bar, chancing one more swig from his mug before he devotes his attention to the stage. The hype of her first dance seems hard to follow, though. He nods a bit when he realizes she's choosing a dance more intended for a just a solo artist...but he finds himself wanting her to be as good as before, or better; topping it. For a moment, there's actual sadness playing through his features: a disappointment.
"...her heart isn't in this one..." he says, but it's to no one in particular, nor very loud.
Another thoughtful frown follows her as she exits the stage. The dark eyes consider the floor, before he turns back to the bar. The drink has dulled his head sufficiently, and slowed his thoughts. He seems less concerned about the crowd behind him for the time being.
Everyone in the Captain's Loft, Midnight and Nute look enter and look around the tavern for possible spots, you are able to snatch a 'spacious' (when comparing to everywhere else in the tavern right now) spot right as one of the patron manages to make his order and leave the side of the counter near the stage and the window, it's as comfortable as it might get at this particular time, not claustrophobic, but not much room to move either. A barmaid approaches you from inside the counter "Welcome! What'll it be? Gallon of ale for two silvers, four silvers a sausage sandwich. Room and bath for tonight?".
Ilvisar tastes the dark ale, which seems much creamier and much less diluted than the one from the gallon, a rather burnt taste, but one you find quite good once you grow more used to it, the two large sandwiches come along a while later, and the sight of them over the wooden board makes you wish you'd asked their size before, as each one of the dark rye bread loaves is the size of your head, cut in half and bearing inside a sausage almost the size of your forearm, thoroughly toasted and covered in a thick dark yellow sauce. The wide-smiling barmaid lays them over the table, "Cheers, fellows! Happy Highharvestide!" and spins on her foot and leaves.
Watching Serwa's second performance, the crowd seems eager to tag along, the clapping even come out at some points, and the halfling already atop a table rattles the tambourine along, but they all fall somewhere out of rhythm, still eager for the energy they had seen displayed before, but the dance still renders a hearty round of applause at the end, the old man marks a single additional dash aside the previous ones, summing four 'IIII'. The overall score stands at a four for the robed man, the halfling juggler has three marks, the noble is at one, and with the name 'Newcomer' refering to Serwa bearing four marks aside it. The third and final round of presentations begins, the robed man climbs atop the stage once again, he starts doing tricks with bright knotted cloth strips which he produces out of his sleeves, ears, and mouth, but at one point when Tibern conjures his mage hand for him to drink, tables around him are distracted and applaud him instead of the mage, the robed man drops a score of his tied knots to the ground, he fumbles and attempts to draw them back, but more fall his other side and the crowd all bursts into laughter at his confusion and clumsiness, he eventually climbs off stage embarrassed and the old man at the board picks up a piece of dirty wet cloth to wipe away one of his points, bringing his total to three 'III'. The halfling juggler climbs atop the stage once again, but this time he brings along one of the scantly-clad damsels that can be found at the laps of some of the lads around, and she is carrying a thin wooden board which is laid against the wall close to Midnight and Nute, and she leans against it, the halfling prepares to throw knives at her while the crowd silences and grows aprehensive, everyone inside staring wide-eyed as the halfling flings one his small blades, followed by two more without warning, all the blades hit the wooden board, one aside her head, the other close to her hips, and the last between her legs, and the crowd sighes and relief and bursts into a round of applause as the old man marks another two points for the halfling, amounting five points for his three presentations 'IIIII'. The nobleman is nowhere to be found, the announcer eventually takes to the stage to call for him as a silence briefly settles around, eyes start darting around as if searching for something, the announcer and asks loudly after a while "Where's Lord Brassgrass? And where's the rashemi dancer?" right as Serwa inadvertently walks out the backstage already donning her armor. The announcer spots her surprised look and beckons her upstage, as the crowd's eyes all turn to her, following his.
Noranys, you find a shaded spot among the seats of the dueling ring, the fair's loud noises are lessened here and a cool breeze from the sea rolls in through the city gates at your side. Duellers are training and getting ready for the following matches, sun seems to be close to mid day. After a while in peace, you hear a whispering voice from behind you, of someone you didn't see approach, "There you are. Your aunties didn't give you a horse? Sure took your while..." as you instinctively turn your head to look at him, you catch but a glimpse of a halfling with bushy eyebrows and a brown bandana speaks to you from a distance before he says "Don't turn. The lord's fellas watch our every move, there will be time for that." he shifts around for a moment and starts slowly walking close to you, he lets fall a small ceramic coin on the dirt, you can see it is divided roughly in the middle by a wavy white line, while one side is filled with black, and the other gray, "The House of the Master's Shadow is in the south of town. You'd be most welcome, ma'am, if you can find us after all this fair business is over with."
The sun elf's composure is broken somewhat, at the sheer size of these sandwiches. He nods his appreciation at the barmaid, and purses his lips briefly.
He's a bit over his head on this one. There's a shrug to himself, and an utterance of having a second helping for later, then. When he sinks his teeth into the first half of a sandwich, his brows rise appreciatively, and he nods quietly at the taste. It takes a couple swallows to get that all down, but he looks rather pleased at this choice.
"Mordikai, you shou-..." he starts, then seems to recall a bit too late, after half-turning, and beginning to slide his plate towards the Warforged. "oh...right...never mind."
And knowing that Tibern had already ordered himself a plate kind of discounts on sharing, as it were. Another shrug, and he seems pleased enough to give himself into the meal. The tavern appears occupied and roving with the small roar of conversation. The drink swims through him deliciously. Things around him still tease to trigger him, but Ilvisar is more capable of just letting them fizzle out of his attention and not be so uptight.
When the Tiefling shows up the magician, it actually brings a smirk and a snerk from the elf. A bit of smugness reaches his expression as the magician fumbles the rest of his act.
Ilvisar stops chewing through the halfling's act. He winces just a touch as the knives start to fly. The sausage still mangled between his teeth doesn't feel or taste as great as he waits through that act. An audible exhale after it's done. Another appreciative nod. When the nobleman is called to the stand, but becomes a no-show, the gold elf actually laughs out loud, amused.
"Y'know,Tibern..." he offers, perhaps in some retrospection. "...from what I've seen, music and wizardry both take a certain amount of finesse, and dedication..."
He makes a gesture at the Tiefling.
"And no small amount of talent. Perhaps you should give it another try. You seem capable." which is a lot, coming from the Sun Elf.
He certainly isn't credible, but he doesn't usually toss out compliments either.
Serwalooks a bit perplexed, on hearing the announcer call for the "Rashemi dancer." She wordlessly holds up a finger, briefly steps backstage again, pulls her chain mail over her head and removes it, quickly stuffs it in her backpack, attempts to straighten her hair a bit, and drops her backpack and gear with a thud backstage. She steps forward onto the stage awkwardly again afterward, in her funeral black dress and blouse sans armor and weaponry, raising a hand to indicate acknowledgment, and staring blankly at the announcer, and then the crowd. She had not expected a third round of performance.
OOC: Serwa will wait for some cue from the announcer if she is to do a third "tie-breaker" performance before proceeding with any reactions.
Vedui continues to watch the performance and glance at the crowd. He has an urge to jump and yell after Serwa's second performance, however he quietly claps his hands, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
Modikainotices the extravagant size of Ilvisarmeal as it is delivered,
"That seem an excessive portion size for the sustenance of one adult humanoid."
As Ilvisarstarts eating and begins and then stop, suggesting Modikaitry some, the metal man turns back,
"Hmm? Oh I can partake of solid foods, but it would be a waste if you intent to finish all of the meal yourself, or to share with another fleshy humanoid who requires such sustenance."
"While my systems are designed to handle food and drink, I don't get the full range of enjoyment that others seem to."
"The brothers at the High House speculated that the purpose of this system was to allow for the absorption of any magical properties, like if I consumed a potion."
"I can taste and smell the food or drink I consume, but from all accounts it would seem my systems are much more...muted, in this regard."
"My main reason for partaking with others is because brother Gregortold me that it is an important part of social bonding."
"He explained that this was very important for "getting by" in civilised society and for "opening the door" when trying to share the wonders of Gondwith new people."
At Ilvisar's remark to Tibern, Modikainods his agreement,
"You show signs of competence in your chosen art form."
Noranys turns the beginnings of a head turn into a crack of the neck, and lets her head turn again towards the fighters, though she tries her best to get a glimpse of the speaker from the corner of her eye. "Horses denote urgency denotes importance,"she murmurs. "Which borrows trouble."She lets her eyes fall to the coin, but makes no move to reach for it while he is near. "I will find you, then, when it is the shadows' time."
"A gallon of ale?!? I'm not sure I've drunk that much ale in my life. I'll take a flagon or mug or whatever container you have and a .... sandwich, you said?" The word is obviously foreign on her tongue. "I will take a room for the night and this bath, is it private or communal?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
First D&D set: 1980 red box. Haven't stopped playing since. :)
Follows Midnight inside, hood pulled up which does a poor job concealing his beak. Settling down he looks around. His gaze stops at Tibern and his batlike wings. It's probably capable of flight, maybe he'll see them used today. Looks down at his useless feathers covering his arms with disappointment. Looking back at Tibern, he notices Mordikai now and eyes him suspiciously. He doesn't seem alive, looks alive but whatever force made him, it wasn't mother nature for sure.
Hearing the barmaid approach them, he writes "Do you have tea with honey?"and says: "sandwich" wondering what it is.
The wizard almost seems to be surprised by the compliment coming from Ilvisar but does his best not to show it since it may anger the elf if he does. As for when Modikai says it the Warforged seems as if he is saying it more life a fact then a compliment. Before speaking though he sips more at his ale and then takes a few bites from his sandwich.
"I think that for me music is more of something I enjoy listening to then playing. Perhaps in the future when I have trained my arcane talents more then perhaps I will attempt to train my hands to play instruments."
Serwalooks to the Announcer, surveys the crowd and the Scoreboard if visible, and speaks in the sardonic near-monotone that has been her default in casual conversation with Vedui, save for those rare moments of empathy. "So, what's going on here? Is it over? Do we have a tie? Do some of us need to go again?" Given the emotional nature of her first performance, and even the more detached nature of the second, the juxtaposition of the dynamic and sensual movements with this cynical sounding and bleak looking young woman may be a bit jarring for some. On the other hand, the eccentricity of entertainers sometimes adds to their appeal, making them memorable, standing out from others. Serwaponders this in back of her head, but her current presentation wasn't a calculated move, but an honest mistake.
Mordikai looks at Tibern,
"I have not tried my hand at musical production. The fundamentals seem to be based on logic and mathematics, but final production has a dissatisfying lack of permanence."
"Although the production of musical instruments or music boxes, seems like a worthy endeavour."
Mordikai turns back to the magical performance.
"Indeed, this performer seems to be giving magic a bad reputation with the locals."
Mordikai watches as the juggler and then the poem reader have there second rounds, commenting,
"It would seem this city lacks much in the way of talent, is this normal for a smaller city?"
As Serwa's turn comes around Mordikai comments again,
"This one seems to have talent for her chosen art form though."
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
Serwa
OOC: If there is time in between the rounds of performance Serwa would have popped out for a quick drink to steady her nerves before her second performance, which could be an opportunity to interact with other PCs. If time did not allow - and she did spend some time collecting herself - she would remain in costume and proceed to the second round.
I will again roll the 1d20+Charisma+Perform Skill Proficiency first, and describe based on result.
22
Serwa
The first performance was too emotionally raw for her to repeat, she realizes. On some level she knows the effect on the crowd was good, but dancing the way she danced with Lily brought too many memories flooding back. She had found herself mourning the girl all over again.
For her second round’s performance, she enacts another traditional Rashemi dance, this one intended for a single dancer. In this performance she reflects more of the stoic and cynical demeanor she typically has carried around Vedui, in essence, she seems more like herself, as he has known her to be. Her face is emotionless, like a doll, staring at some distant fixed point. She still engages in leaps and spins, her technical execution of the moves still quite good, but with much less feeling and innovation this time around.
She dances like a non-Rashemi who has spent a few months studying a foreign style of dance, technically on point with the movements, but lacking the feeling of natural connection for the motion that her prior dance held. Before, she danced in her past, accompanied by a phantom of her lost love. Now, she dances in the present, as the cynical and guarded person she has grown to become.
This time she is less engrossed in the dance, so she will take in the faces of those watching, looking for Vedui and noting any unusual patrons within the tavern that she missed during the prior performance, when she had eyes only for the ghost of Lily, the memories she danced in sync with.
Nute
A trickle of sweat appears on his beak. The loft seems pretty crowded and while he'd prefer to stay outside. Seeing the eagerness in Midnight's face he writes(in elvish) "Sure. I have coin as well, I was given to start my journey. 10 gold enough for a drink right?"
Characters:
Nute Kenku Druid - War of the Faithless
Ignace Miltorn Aasimar Paladin - Descent into Avernus
Midnight
"I think that is plenty, although prices don't seem to be very consistent. I have plenty if needed - the former owner wasn't using them." Seeing her friend look a bit nervous at the crowds and building interior, she suggests, "Maybe we could get a table near the window that isn't crowded and feels a bit more open. I'm used to caverns, but I don't suppose you have many tight locations in the forest."
In the off chance the Loft has any outdoor tables ((patio seating, haha)), she'll suggest there instead.
First D&D set: 1980 red box. Haven't stopped playing since. :)
Nute
"near the window" Nute says somewhat relaxed.
Characters:
Nute Kenku Druid - War of the Faithless
Ignace Miltorn Aasimar Paladin - Descent into Avernus
Tibern
The wizard nods as he gets a refill on his drink, moving to pull his tail and wings in closer as people pass by him, not enjoying when others bumped into them. He turns his attention to the dancer and watches her closely. Her movements floored him somewhat as those he had been taught were much more structured and controlled. In the back of his mind he could only imagine the shocked reaction his stuffy family would have.
"I very much enjoy music as much like magic it takes most practitioners years to mold their skills before they can show how tireless work has given them their talents. But like you say some music no matter does not last while some will be played and song for generations to immortalize an event or legendary individual."
Serwa
After her 2nd performance has been completed, Serwa goes backstage and changes from her colorful dancing garb into her "funeral black" clothes, again dons her chain mail armor, and does a quick inventory to make sure her possessions remain unmolested, collecting her weapons and gear. She then goes out to await the judging. She is unmistakably the same woman who danced before, but to anyone who first noticed her in the colorful garb of a dancer, seeing her now in armor, bearing multiple weapons, and the grim emblem of the god of death, may be somewhat surprising.
She scans for Vedui in the crowd, and also tries to monitor if any results have been posted from this contest, or if there is an announcement forthcoming. The church's edict for her to locate Kaspar Mutsk and inquire about "Fingerbones" still weighs on her mind, but she was sincere in her desire to enjoy the festival activities that appealed to her first, so she keeps her mind in the moment, knowing she will follow through on her duty later, all things in their own time.
Noranys
A little relieved that she won't have to deal with having discovered a dead body, Noranys dismisses the hand and makes her way back to the main area of the festivities. She decides she might as well see what she can learn about any martial activities in the area, and finds a comfortable spot to study the duelists.
Birgit | Shifter | Sorcerer | Dragonlords
Shayone | Hobgoblin | Sorcerer | Netherdeep
Ilvisar
The price of a gold coin seems to make him a touch nonplussed, but after only a moment of consideration, he deposits the coin in the waiting girl's hand. Faire prices. His expression seems to smooth over relatively quickly though, as he considers a few things. (perhaps the fact that the gold wasn't his to begin with.) With an empty stomach, he finds the drink working quickly over him. Despite the noise and the crowd, he relaxes visibly. About halfway through the mug, and he sets it back on the bar to wait for his food. The relief is palpable. The elf rolls the muscles of his neck quietly, and lets his two companions talk aside him. Dark eyes rove the tavern with less concern than-as before.
The talents take to the stage once more, and he finds more interest this time. The magician is frowned at thoughtfully, but his gusto makes the elf nod; even clapping a couple times along with the rest. There is a keen interest in the juggler; and an open wince when he almost drops the last club-pin-thing. Ilvisar can be seen moving his hands over his lap in the same manner....perhaps trying to figure out the juggling aspect.
When Serwa takes to the stage again, he leans back against the bar, chancing one more swig from his mug before he devotes his attention to the stage. The hype of her first dance seems hard to follow, though. He nods a bit when he realizes she's choosing a dance more intended for a just a solo artist...but he finds himself wanting her to be as good as before, or better; topping it. For a moment, there's actual sadness playing through his features: a disappointment.
"...her heart isn't in this one..." he says, but it's to no one in particular, nor very loud.
Another thoughtful frown follows her as she exits the stage. The dark eyes consider the floor, before he turns back to the bar. The drink has dulled his head sufficiently, and slowed his thoughts. He seems less concerned about the crowd behind him for the time being.
Current Characters:
Past Characters:
Everyone in the Captain's Loft, Midnight and Nute look enter and look around the tavern for possible spots, you are able to snatch a 'spacious' (when comparing to everywhere else in the tavern right now) spot right as one of the patron manages to make his order and leave the side of the counter near the stage and the window, it's as comfortable as it might get at this particular time, not claustrophobic, but not much room to move either. A barmaid approaches you from inside the counter "Welcome! What'll it be? Gallon of ale for two silvers, four silvers a sausage sandwich. Room and bath for tonight?".
Ilvisar tastes the dark ale, which seems much creamier and much less diluted than the one from the gallon, a rather burnt taste, but one you find quite good once you grow more used to it, the two large sandwiches come along a while later, and the sight of them over the wooden board makes you wish you'd asked their size before, as each one of the dark rye bread loaves is the size of your head, cut in half and bearing inside a sausage almost the size of your forearm, thoroughly toasted and covered in a thick dark yellow sauce. The wide-smiling barmaid lays them over the table, "Cheers, fellows! Happy Highharvestide!" and spins on her foot and leaves.
Watching Serwa's second performance, the crowd seems eager to tag along, the clapping even come out at some points, and the halfling already atop a table rattles the tambourine along, but they all fall somewhere out of rhythm, still eager for the energy they had seen displayed before, but the dance still renders a hearty round of applause at the end, the old man marks a single additional dash aside the previous ones, summing four 'IIII'. The overall score stands at a four for the robed man, the halfling juggler has three marks, the noble is at one, and with the name 'Newcomer' refering to Serwa bearing four marks aside it. The third and final round of presentations begins, the robed man climbs atop the stage once again, he starts doing tricks with bright knotted cloth strips which he produces out of his sleeves, ears, and mouth, but at one point when Tibern conjures his mage hand for him to drink, tables around him are distracted and applaud him instead of the mage, the robed man drops a score of his tied knots to the ground, he fumbles and attempts to draw them back, but more fall his other side and the crowd all bursts into laughter at his confusion and clumsiness, he eventually climbs off stage embarrassed and the old man at the board picks up a piece of dirty wet cloth to wipe away one of his points, bringing his total to three 'III'. The halfling juggler climbs atop the stage once again, but this time he brings along one of the scantly-clad damsels that can be found at the laps of some of the lads around, and she is carrying a thin wooden board which is laid against the wall close to Midnight and Nute, and she leans against it, the halfling prepares to throw knives at her while the crowd silences and grows aprehensive, everyone inside staring wide-eyed as the halfling flings one his small blades, followed by two more without warning, all the blades hit the wooden board, one aside her head, the other close to her hips, and the last between her legs, and the crowd sighes and relief and bursts into a round of applause as the old man marks another two points for the halfling, amounting five points for his three presentations 'IIIII'. The nobleman is nowhere to be found, the announcer eventually takes to the stage to call for him as a silence briefly settles around, eyes start darting around as if searching for something, the announcer and asks loudly after a while "Where's Lord Brassgrass? And where's the rashemi dancer?" right as Serwa inadvertently walks out the backstage already donning her armor. The announcer spots her surprised look and beckons her upstage, as the crowd's eyes all turn to her, following his.
Noranys, you find a shaded spot among the seats of the dueling ring, the fair's loud noises are lessened here and a cool breeze from the sea rolls in through the city gates at your side. Duellers are training and getting ready for the following matches, sun seems to be close to mid day. After a while in peace, you hear a whispering voice from behind you, of someone you didn't see approach, "There you are. Your aunties didn't give you a horse? Sure took your while..." as you instinctively turn your head to look at him, you catch but a glimpse of a halfling with bushy eyebrows and a brown bandana speaks to you from a distance before he says "Don't turn. The lord's fellas watch our every move, there will be time for that." he shifts around for a moment and starts slowly walking close to you, he lets fall a small ceramic coin on the dirt, you can see it is divided roughly in the middle by a wavy white line, while one side is filled with black, and the other gray, "The House of the Master's Shadow is in the south of town. You'd be most welcome, ma'am, if you can find us after all this fair business is over with."
Art Portfolio
Ilvisar
The sun elf's composure is broken somewhat, at the sheer size of these sandwiches. He nods his appreciation at the barmaid, and purses his lips briefly.
He's a bit over his head on this one. There's a shrug to himself, and an utterance of having a second helping for later, then. When he sinks his teeth into the first half of a sandwich, his brows rise appreciatively, and he nods quietly at the taste. It takes a couple swallows to get that all down, but he looks rather pleased at this choice.
"Mordikai, you shou-..." he starts, then seems to recall a bit too late, after half-turning, and beginning to slide his plate towards the Warforged. "oh...right...never mind."
And knowing that Tibern had already ordered himself a plate kind of discounts on sharing, as it were. Another shrug, and he seems pleased enough to give himself into the meal. The tavern appears occupied and roving with the small roar of conversation. The drink swims through him deliciously. Things around him still tease to trigger him, but Ilvisar is more capable of just letting them fizzle out of his attention and not be so uptight.
When the Tiefling shows up the magician, it actually brings a smirk and a snerk from the elf. A bit of smugness reaches his expression as the magician fumbles the rest of his act.
Ilvisar stops chewing through the halfling's act. He winces just a touch as the knives start to fly. The sausage still mangled between his teeth doesn't feel or taste as great as he waits through that act. An audible exhale after it's done. Another appreciative nod. When the nobleman is called to the stand, but becomes a no-show, the gold elf actually laughs out loud, amused.
"Y'know, Tibern..." he offers, perhaps in some retrospection. "...from what I've seen, music and wizardry both take a certain amount of finesse, and dedication..."
He makes a gesture at the Tiefling.
"And no small amount of talent. Perhaps you should give it another try. You seem capable." which is a lot, coming from the Sun Elf.
He certainly isn't credible, but he doesn't usually toss out compliments either.
Current Characters:
Past Characters:
Serwa
Serwa looks a bit perplexed, on hearing the announcer call for the "Rashemi dancer." She wordlessly holds up a finger, briefly steps backstage again, pulls her chain mail over her head and removes it, quickly stuffs it in her backpack, attempts to straighten her hair a bit, and drops her backpack and gear with a thud backstage. She steps forward onto the stage awkwardly again afterward, in her funeral black dress and blouse sans armor and weaponry, raising a hand to indicate acknowledgment, and staring blankly at the announcer, and then the crowd. She had not expected a third round of performance.
OOC: Serwa will wait for some cue from the announcer if she is to do a third "tie-breaker" performance before proceeding with any reactions.
Vedui Gurth
Vedui continues to watch the performance and glance at the crowd. He has an urge to jump and yell after Serwa's second performance, however he quietly claps his hands, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
Modikai notices the extravagant size of Ilvisar meal as it is delivered,
"That seem an excessive portion size for the sustenance of one adult humanoid."
As Ilvisar starts eating and begins and then stop, suggesting Modikai try some, the metal man turns back,
"Hmm? Oh I can partake of solid foods, but it would be a waste if you intent to finish all of the meal yourself, or to share with another fleshy humanoid who requires such sustenance."
"While my systems are designed to handle food and drink, I don't get the full range of enjoyment that others seem to."
"The brothers at the High House speculated that the purpose of this system was to allow for the absorption of any magical properties, like if I consumed a potion."
"I can taste and smell the food or drink I consume, but from all accounts it would seem my systems are much more...muted, in this regard."
"My main reason for partaking with others is because brother Gregor told me that it is an important part of social bonding."
"He explained that this was very important for "getting by" in civilised society and for "opening the door" when trying to share the wonders of Gond with new people."
At Ilvisar's remark to Tibern, Modikai nods his agreement,
"You show signs of competence in your chosen art form."
David Gearlock | Human | Artificer | Revenge Heist
Knox | Warforged | Cleric | Shadowthorn's Out of the Abyss
Noranys
Noranys turns the beginnings of a head turn into a crack of the neck, and lets her head turn again towards the fighters, though she tries her best to get a glimpse of the speaker from the corner of her eye. "Horses denote urgency denotes importance," she murmurs. "Which borrows trouble." She lets her eyes fall to the coin, but makes no move to reach for it while he is near. "I will find you, then, when it is the shadows' time."
Birgit | Shifter | Sorcerer | Dragonlords
Shayone | Hobgoblin | Sorcerer | Netherdeep
Midnight
"A gallon of ale?!? I'm not sure I've drunk that much ale in my life. I'll take a flagon or mug or whatever container you have and a .... sandwich, you said?" The word is obviously foreign on her tongue. "I will take a room for the night and this bath, is it private or communal?"
First D&D set: 1980 red box. Haven't stopped playing since. :)
Nute
Follows Midnight inside, hood pulled up which does a poor job concealing his beak. Settling down he looks around. His gaze stops at Tibern and his batlike wings. It's probably capable of flight, maybe he'll see them used today. Looks down at his useless feathers covering his arms with disappointment. Looking back at Tibern, he notices Mordikai now and eyes him suspiciously. He doesn't seem alive, looks alive but whatever force made him, it wasn't mother nature for sure.
Hearing the barmaid approach them, he writes "Do you have tea with honey?" and says: "sandwich" wondering what it is.
Characters:
Nute Kenku Druid - War of the Faithless
Ignace Miltorn Aasimar Paladin - Descent into Avernus
Tibern
The wizard almost seems to be surprised by the compliment coming from Ilvisar but does his best not to show it since it may anger the elf if he does. As for when Modikai says it the Warforged seems as if he is saying it more life a fact then a compliment. Before speaking though he sips more at his ale and then takes a few bites from his sandwich.
"I think that for me music is more of something I enjoy listening to then playing. Perhaps in the future when I have trained my arcane talents more then perhaps I will attempt to train my hands to play instruments."
Serwa
Serwa looks to the Announcer, surveys the crowd and the Scoreboard if visible, and speaks in the sardonic near-monotone that has been her default in casual conversation with Vedui, save for those rare moments of empathy. "So, what's going on here? Is it over? Do we have a tie? Do some of us need to go again?" Given the emotional nature of her first performance, and even the more detached nature of the second, the juxtaposition of the dynamic and sensual movements with this cynical sounding and bleak looking young woman may be a bit jarring for some. On the other hand, the eccentricity of entertainers sometimes adds to their appeal, making them memorable, standing out from others. Serwa ponders this in back of her head, but her current presentation wasn't a calculated move, but an honest mistake.