Notes on the Aether (Rae judging)
Trouvere
Explorer
An hour later, Keldar hammers on the door of Galwynn's room. "What are you doing in there? I'm about to sing! Are you asleep? Wake up! Hmm. Typical."
He returns to the common room, where, it is to be hoped, Tarag, Tommy and Rapture remain, along with a cross-section of the Grenton populace. Keldar quickly downs another mug of beer to wet his throat. Then he knocks on a table for quiet.
"Proud people of Grenton, friends, tonight you are lucky enough to witness a rare event - a short song recital by my very self, the inordinately experienced singer Keldar Warbray." As is his habit, he waves a modest hand to forestall questions. "Yes, yes, that Keldar Warbray. This my first song, a virelai, I dedicate to the loveliest of my companions, who tonight bestows on me frowning glances."
He clears his throat, gathers his thoughts, and sings.
"Oh, should I give in to my grief?
My lady fair
With dark brown hair
Does still forbear
To grant relief.
Can such a woman love a thief,
Or is this rare?
No! this is an old motif.
I shall nurture this belief
And not despair.
Be my wait long or be it brief
Never will my heart be lief
To turn elsewhere."
"Most kind, most kind. Of course 'thief' was required purely for the rhyme, I assure you." Keldar goes back to his beer.
He returns to the common room, where, it is to be hoped, Tarag, Tommy and Rapture remain, along with a cross-section of the Grenton populace. Keldar quickly downs another mug of beer to wet his throat. Then he knocks on a table for quiet.
"Proud people of Grenton, friends, tonight you are lucky enough to witness a rare event - a short song recital by my very self, the inordinately experienced singer Keldar Warbray." As is his habit, he waves a modest hand to forestall questions. "Yes, yes, that Keldar Warbray. This my first song, a virelai, I dedicate to the loveliest of my companions, who tonight bestows on me frowning glances."
He clears his throat, gathers his thoughts, and sings.
"Oh, should I give in to my grief?
My lady fair
With dark brown hair
Does still forbear
To grant relief.
Can such a woman love a thief,
Or is this rare?
No! this is an old motif.
I shall nurture this belief
And not despair.
Be my wait long or be it brief
Never will my heart be lief
To turn elsewhere."
"Most kind, most kind. Of course 'thief' was required purely for the rhyme, I assure you." Keldar goes back to his beer.
Trouvere
Explorer
Keldar gives the wizard a look that is not entirely dissimilar to those that Rapture has given him. He talks to the barkeep and receives four small cups and a jug filled with clear spirit. He pours. "Drink!" he says, handing them round. "You have all tomorrow to read those books."
Trouvere
Explorer
"Hurrah!" cries Keldar. "I knew you'd not be able to keep away when you heard I was performing. Innkeeper, another cup for my friend Galwynn. Drink!" He demonstrates. "If that song was not to your liking, I have many more. Let me think. Ah. I know one that will be more suited to your soph- sophis-" He focuses. "So-phis-ti-cation."
Keldar sits next to Rapture. "Now," he says confidingly to her, "you may have noticed that I at various times have sung songs which might be understood to apply to, well, you. I wish to assure you that this next song does not, not at all. It is not well suited to lofty situations or your... delicate ears, but the simple patrons of this establishment may appreciate it."
"Silence, if you would!" he calls, moving back into an open space. "For your enjoyment, Keldar Warbray will sing again, a song dedicated to my friend, the worthy knight Galwynn Grimesprayed."
"As I was walking out one day
In the greenest month of May
I heard a foolish squire brag
That he had had a pleasant hour
With his sweetheart in her bower.
Talk of this kind is a disgrace,
Indulged in only by the base!
Indeed, I thought it rather rude
For him to say that they'd been there;
It showed no thought for her welfare.
Now I too court a lady sweet
With shining hair, and dancing feet.
He would be thoughtless who omits
To tell the glory of her eyes;
They put to shame the bright sunrise.
But still my love is pure and chaste,
For never yet have we embraced.
I'd offer prayer and sing a hymn
If I could thereby gain her heart
And know that we would never part."
Keldar sits next to Rapture. "Now," he says confidingly to her, "you may have noticed that I at various times have sung songs which might be understood to apply to, well, you. I wish to assure you that this next song does not, not at all. It is not well suited to lofty situations or your... delicate ears, but the simple patrons of this establishment may appreciate it."
"Silence, if you would!" he calls, moving back into an open space. "For your enjoyment, Keldar Warbray will sing again, a song dedicated to my friend, the worthy knight Galwynn Grimesprayed."
"As I was walking out one day
In the greenest month of May
I heard a foolish squire brag
That he had had a pleasant hour
With his sweetheart in her bower.
Talk of this kind is a disgrace,
Indulged in only by the base!
Indeed, I thought it rather rude
For him to say that they'd been there;
It showed no thought for her welfare.
Now I too court a lady sweet
With shining hair, and dancing feet.
He would be thoughtless who omits
To tell the glory of her eyes;
They put to shame the bright sunrise.
But still my love is pure and chaste,
For never yet have we embraced.
I'd offer prayer and sing a hymn
If I could thereby gain her heart
And know that we would never part."
covaithe
Explorer
Tommy takes a cup from Keldar with a grunt of thanks and takes a deep gulp from it. A second later he drops the book on the table and stands up violently and jumps back from the table, sending his stool crashing to the floor. "Psergei's blisters, Keldar! Are you trying to poison us!" He shudders for a second, then gathers himself. "I appreciate the gesture, Keldar, and thank you, but... well, no more for me, thanks." Tommy unsteadily gathers his stool and sits, pushing the nearly full cup away from himself.
Boddynock
First Post
Tarag is unable to settle himself for a night of merrymaking. Something nags at the edges of his consciousness. He, like Tommy, is distracted when Keldar proffers spirits. Unlike Tommy, he knocks his back without difficulty but the sharp burn and the slow spread of warmth within do little more than divert him for a moment.
As to Keldar's singing, he claps when the others clap and otherwise hears it not at all.
"What's wrong with me?" he thinks. "It's as if there's some lesson I need to learn from today's experience. Ah, Chennet', guide me!"
A thought occurs to him. He reaches over and shakes Tommy by the shoulder. The wizard has just leapt to his feet and complained about being poisoned. It's a mark of just how distracted Tarag is that he doesn't even grin.
"Tommy. Tommy! Do you have any of that parchment and ink to spare? I think I'd better scribe another healing scroll tomorrow and I don't have the funds to buy the materials - if this place would even have them available."
OOC: Would there be enough available for this, Rae?
As to Keldar's singing, he claps when the others clap and otherwise hears it not at all.
"What's wrong with me?" he thinks. "It's as if there's some lesson I need to learn from today's experience. Ah, Chennet', guide me!"
A thought occurs to him. He reaches over and shakes Tommy by the shoulder. The wizard has just leapt to his feet and complained about being poisoned. It's a mark of just how distracted Tarag is that he doesn't even grin.
"Tommy. Tommy! Do you have any of that parchment and ink to spare? I think I'd better scribe another healing scroll tomorrow and I don't have the funds to buy the materials - if this place would even have them available."
OOC: Would there be enough available for this, Rae?
Trouvere
Explorer
Keldar, returning to the bench beside Rapture, claims Tommy's cup and drains it. "Seems all right to me, s'long as I don't sing near any candle flames," he says. "How're you doing with those books, Tommy? Didn't find those notes we're s'posed to deliver, did you? Thanks for waiting till after the song to do your coughing and spluttering, too."
"I've got funds, Tarag. I've always got funds. What do you need? I'm always there for the Keldarites."
"I've got funds, Tarag. I've always got funds. What do you need? I'm always there for the Keldarites."
Trouvere
Explorer
"Drink up. I'm going to sing one more song for the crowd," says Keldar. He looks inside a tankard of beer and, finding it almost empty, finishes it. "Whose was that? Mine I hope." He takes it with him as he gets up.
"Now!" he calls. "One final song - and this one is especially for all the young people we have here tonight, beardless youths and blushing maidens, like my friend Tommy over here, the one with the books. Ahem!"
Keldar puts the tankard in the middle of a busy table of locals, and repeats the last verse.[sblock=OOC]Perform (singing) checks for 3 songs 1d20+3=7, 4, 19. As covaithe commented once, I'd prefer not to apply mechanical results to Keldar's songs, which are really just RP fluff, but if you want a guideline for crowd reaction, there we go. The second song obviously fell completely flat! I guess the Grenton farmers didn't follow the innuendo of the sideslipping rhyme scheme. The last one was surprisingly popular. Keldar sings better when drunk.[/sblock]
"Now!" he calls. "One final song - and this one is especially for all the young people we have here tonight, beardless youths and blushing maidens, like my friend Tommy over here, the one with the books. Ahem!"
"Strangers and friends and good people all,
Pay heed to my words and learn from my woes,
I'll tell you now what caused my downfall,
A tale of caution to curl up your toes.
For when you are young, and your life's just begun
You're careless of heart and free with your tongue,
But in your youth you'd better not trust
For just as bright iron will tarnish and rust,
We all grow old, indeed as we must
And end in the grave, and fall into dust.
So while you have it, spend well your youth
Forming good habits and making routine
The seeking of goodness and virtue and truth;
Finish the job before you're nineteen!
Take my advice as one who knows well:
Your formative years may keep you from hell,
For when you grow older and set in your ways,
Nothing may move you, not curses nor praise,
If you've a low character, to coin a phrase,
You'll be mired in sin till the end of your days.
Lacking in wisdom, or parents to scold,
I took up gambling with cups, cards and dice
And soon I was rich and laden with gold
But my large fortune would come with a price!
For a young man with wealth, at the peak of his health
Finds new friends appear as though by stealth.
Where once I had flirted with sweet peasant girls,
Now I was chased by the daughters of earls
Who flounced and pouted and shook their curls,
But loved me only when I bought them pearls.
Then I fell in with the worst sort of crowd,
Lawyers and bishops and high councilmen
Who knew I was rich and knew I was proud:
They borrowed from me again and again!
They didn't repay; I was stripped of my gold,
My friends left me alone thrown out in the cold.
Given it over, I know what I'd choose,
For he who has nothing has nothing to lose,
And growing wiser, I've altered my views:
There's nothing worth more than honest virtues!
Listeners, I beg you, don't take the risk
Of being corrupted by silver or gold.
Hand round this jug now, speedy and brisk,
And part with some coins for the tale I've told,
That you may escape the dreadful temptation
Of growing too rich and above your station.
I have once been there, and the reverse,
I know what it's like and there's nothing worse
Than living your life in the grip of the curse
Of smugness and pride in the weight of your purse!"
Pay heed to my words and learn from my woes,
I'll tell you now what caused my downfall,
A tale of caution to curl up your toes.
For when you are young, and your life's just begun
You're careless of heart and free with your tongue,
But in your youth you'd better not trust
For just as bright iron will tarnish and rust,
We all grow old, indeed as we must
And end in the grave, and fall into dust.
So while you have it, spend well your youth
Forming good habits and making routine
The seeking of goodness and virtue and truth;
Finish the job before you're nineteen!
Take my advice as one who knows well:
Your formative years may keep you from hell,
For when you grow older and set in your ways,
Nothing may move you, not curses nor praise,
If you've a low character, to coin a phrase,
You'll be mired in sin till the end of your days.
Lacking in wisdom, or parents to scold,
I took up gambling with cups, cards and dice
And soon I was rich and laden with gold
But my large fortune would come with a price!
For a young man with wealth, at the peak of his health
Finds new friends appear as though by stealth.
Where once I had flirted with sweet peasant girls,
Now I was chased by the daughters of earls
Who flounced and pouted and shook their curls,
But loved me only when I bought them pearls.
Then I fell in with the worst sort of crowd,
Lawyers and bishops and high councilmen
Who knew I was rich and knew I was proud:
They borrowed from me again and again!
They didn't repay; I was stripped of my gold,
My friends left me alone thrown out in the cold.
Given it over, I know what I'd choose,
For he who has nothing has nothing to lose,
And growing wiser, I've altered my views:
There's nothing worth more than honest virtues!
Listeners, I beg you, don't take the risk
Of being corrupted by silver or gold.
Hand round this jug now, speedy and brisk,
And part with some coins for the tale I've told,
That you may escape the dreadful temptation
Of growing too rich and above your station.
I have once been there, and the reverse,
I know what it's like and there's nothing worse
Than living your life in the grip of the curse
Of smugness and pride in the weight of your purse!"
Keldar puts the tankard in the middle of a busy table of locals, and repeats the last verse.[sblock=OOC]Perform (singing) checks for 3 songs 1d20+3=7, 4, 19. As covaithe commented once, I'd prefer not to apply mechanical results to Keldar's songs, which are really just RP fluff, but if you want a guideline for crowd reaction, there we go. The second song obviously fell completely flat! I guess the Grenton farmers didn't follow the innuendo of the sideslipping rhyme scheme. The last one was surprisingly popular. Keldar sings better when drunk.[/sblock]
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