I Knew You Were Treble When You Walked InStarted by Lazgar Starsinger at Dec 12, 2019 8:10 pm
Dophn 38, 1201 AB
Lazgar kept his pace casual, pack slung over his shoulder and eyes cool as he strode through town. Perhaps it was odd a Half-orc galavanting around, but trouble was far from what he wanted to find here. And Aberheil was thought to be rather diverse. He adjusted his satchel, wrinkling his nose when a passerby's eyes lingered just a little too long on his short tusks. The Bard refrained from saying anything, opting instead to keep walking onward.
This was a far cry from the isle of stars, where he had called home for so many years. He didn't resent his family for their views on males like him, but he also wasn't ready to stay and force himself into unhappiness by being with a female - and certainly she didn't deserve not to feel a total connection with someone, just so he could selfishly remain. Things were better this way. Maybe one day he could go back and visit, but for now he wouldd bounce from place to place until he found where he belonged.
The Half-orc stopped not far from The Gilded Harp, contemplating going inside for a drink and maybe even to check on steady work. Being a Bard had its ups and downs, more downs when it came to steady work. He'd done some work as a part-time adventurer, as his bardic magic came in handy. However, he craved the performance more than anything and was ready for an entertainment venue more than anything else.
Mo watched the half-orc from a distance in the cold, winter rain. He kept his scarf over the lower part of his face and his hood up over his head. The evening was wearing thin, day starting to break way into dusk, and despite Lazgar being about a head taller than Mo, the dragonborn was feeling oddly lucky. Something about Lazgar interested Mo, and he took that as a sign he'd be a good target. Time to pocket some coin, boy.
Mo eventually moves more quickly, and once he is within a three foot radius of Lazgar, he exhales a long plume of something smoke-like. It has wisps and when inhaled, it slows down Mo's targets by a helpful amount. If Lazgar begins to slow down as a result of the gas, Mo will slip his hand into his satchel and relieve it of his coin purse, never even stopping to say hi. Mo is just a black-clad figure in the dimming light of the evening, and before long, he is dipping into an alleyway to take the long road home. He pauses suddenly when halfway down an alley way. The coin purse had...rocks in it? Was this a decoy? Mo facepalms. When properly duped, he couldn't resist telling the other party that they were clever. It was a character flaw to him, but he needed Lazgar to know his intelligence was appreciated.
The dragonborn elf walks back to where Lazgar is presumably trying to figure out why he's moving so slowly, and Mo tilts his head to the side and offers the purple felt pouch back to the half-orc.
"Clever. Haven't come across a decoy coin purse in awhile. I commend you for originality. The rocks were a nice touch." He keeps his face hidden still behind his scarf, only his soft brown eyes visible, and even that is beneath the shade of his hood. "I see you're new in town. Not much escapes my notice. Where are you headed? I'll show you the way."
Lazgar inhaled the wisps of smoke unaware of their presence at first, though he soon feels his reaction time slow and his movements become sluggish. He takes a few steps forward, finding that each step is harder than the last. Then before the half-orc knows what is happening, his coinpurse is lifted and the perpetrator is off like a flash. "St...aaaa...wp..." comes his word, sounding like a groan more than anything else.
Not much time later, Mo shows up again and commends Lazgar on his inventiveness. However, it goes unappreciated, his slow gestures show a pointing, then a very long and drawn out flick of the bird with one middle finger. "A....ssss...hooo...llleee...." Man, Mo was going to get his ass handed once this magic ran its course.
Mo's question is answered with a deliberate point in the direction of The Gilded Harp, Lazgar accepting any help that the other man was willing to offer.
Mo chuckles, mirth twinkling in his eyes. He can handle his own in a fight, so he takes the risk to follow the line of Lazgar's pointing. The dragonborn smirks, gazing thoughtfully the direction of The Gilded Harp. He looses a long 'hmm' of consideration before tying the strings of Lazgar's coin purse around his slow pointing finger because the elf thinks he's hilarious. He even watches to see the half-orc's reaction, secretly hoping he'll try to talk again, because that shit was just funny.
"The Gilded Harp?" He finally asks, pocketing his hands. "It's pretty ritzy. I dunno that you'd want to go in there, personally. Might be better served at The Scurvy Dog, but that's just me. Warmer circle of people in my opinion, despite being in the poorer part of town. Plus ale is dirt cheap. If you're sure, I'll walk you in, but only because you managed to get one past me and that doesn't happen terribly often.
Mo unwraps the scarf from around his mouth, his breath making fog in front of his face. Beneath that hood is a handsome face with full lips, a nice nose, and high cheekbones that would make models cry. Half of his face and neck on one side has tribal looking tattoos. "I guess it is better than staying out in the winter rain though. Do yourself a favor and take three huge breaths in and three huge breaths out. It'll get the gas out of your system sooner." He pauses. "That isn't an invitation to fart." Assuming that Lazgar follows, Mo will lead him into The Gilded Harp.
Tavern ownership was a new thing for Adelina, but how difficult could it be? Heinrich would handle the boring details--the important thing was that she controlled Beatrix Steros's place of employment...and therefore her source of income. The noblewoman sat in the back corner of the room, listening to the manager drone on and on. As much as she wanted to ax her former rival then and there, she would have to be more subtle, more delicate. The singer was popular, and there were other taverns in the Inner City. Adelina didn't want to give her a better opportunity elsewhere and push the woman away from desperation instead of towards it.
"What about...new talent?" Adelina questioned as the door swung open and two people walked in. She raised the glass of wine in her hand to her lips and took a sip from it, studying them from across the room. The first looked to be of elven origin--not uncommon in Aberheil, and the second, an orc. An orc in her tavern. The guards at the door glanced at each other and then at her as if for some kind of instruction.
"We haven't had anyone new in awhile, my lady," the manager said.
"Find someone. Put up a notice. We are going to have...a contest." Those blue eyes settled upon Mo and Lazgar. Watcful. Interested.
Lazgar could feel his ire rising when Mo kept testing him, and that tying the coinpurse on his finger bit was earning the elf no favors. His lids pulled together in an irritated squint, a very orc-like roar lifting from the confines of his chest and throat. Passerby stopped to stare, some of them picking up their pace as if a fight might break out between two ruffians.
The half-orc takes Mo's advice breathing in and out in very large huffs, then reaching out to pinch the man's ear once he is able to move at a steady pace. "That's for making me slow down and then taking advantage of my slow gait. You are indeed an asshole." He grunts out, following Mo into The Harp. "Ritzy is fine with me. The worst they can say to hiring me is no."
A deep breath is taken inward when all eyes turn on him, the Orc putting on his most approachable expression. "I'm looking for the owner," he begins, "I'm a bard in search of work."
Mo smirks when the orc tugs his ear, doing the same right back to him. They both had pointed ears, after all. His words roll off of Mo like nothing. He's been called worse than an asshole, and really, he didn't much care when people insulted him. It was sometimes an every day norm!
"You're looking for work in this area of town?" He asks curiously, walking with Lazgar as he approaches the bar. "And you're...a bard? You? " Mo looks thoughtful. "I never thought I'd meet an orc bard," he comments as they await the owner. "What a strange profession given your parentage. Now I have to stick around to see if you are any good. If that roar outside is any indication, you have a set of lungs on you," he jests with a wink.
Mo takes down his hood to show short white hair, and without the shade of the hood it becomes pretty obvious that he's quite good looking. His facial features are perfectly crafted and the tattoos on the side of his neck and face just seem to work for him. He levels his soft brown eyes on the blue of Lazgar's and studies him for a moment, trying to pinpoint what it is about the orc that makes him want to hang around. He is unsuccessful in determining that, however, so he looks away.
"Best of luck. I'll see if you get hired. After that, I'm out of here."
The two men at the door don't draw their weapons when Lazgar and Mo enter, but one of them nods in the direction of Adelina and the manager when the half-orc makes his inquiry. "M'lady's there." he answers in Ilarian. "I'll go talk to her."
The bard is loud enough that Adelina can hear him just fine, but watches as the guard approaced her and the manager anyway. "That...creature there says he's a bard and wants a job, m'lady,"
"Bring him over," Adelina says. "We shall see what he is made of."
An orc seemed an unlikely replacement for Beatrix--he was certainly less easy on the eyes, but Adelina is willing to keep an open mind to be rid of her old enemy. The guard from the door walks back over to Mo and Lazgar and relays the lady's message.
Lazgar had continued his banter with Mo as they walked toward The Harp, rolling one shoulder in a shrug at his question. "I'm looking for work where I can get it, I suppose. Like I said, the worst they can say is no. And if they don't like me over my looks, that's on them." He had garnered a few odd looks from people around him, maybe they just weren't used to his kind in this area of town - he couldn't be certain as he'd not been here long enough to tell.
"Difficult to believe I can sing and play an instrument?" he asks of Mo, "Some Orcs enjoy music as well." The pack slung over his back rested on a case beneath, though what was in it was hard to discern.
Once they get into The Harp and speak with the guards, Lazgar affords them a nod. Waiting patiently for the relay in message. "Thanks," he nods, motioning to Mo and then stepping over to Adelina. "Evening. My name is Lazgar Starsinger, I'm a Bard in search of work. If your place is hiring, then I would very much like to try out."
Mo lets out a low whistle as he follows Lazgar to the bar, pocketing his hands while looking rather handsome. "It's not that I don't believe you can, just that I've never met an orc bard before. It caught me off guard. Try not to take it personally. I meant no ill will."
Once in front of Adelina, Mo nods and cracks a pleasant smile for the lady, letting Lazgar do the talking. Mo was just there to observe mostly, as he had to know what an orc bard could sound like. He parks himself on a bar stool and reaches out to irritate Lazgar by tugging on his ear. "Half elf, yeah? Me too. Best of luck, pal. I'll root for you."
Mo orders a beer from the barkeep and drinks a swig of if once it arrives. The quality is certainly better than The Scurvy Dog, but it was likely going to cost him more, so he makes mental notes to only have the one beer and only stay long enough to see Lazgar perform. The dragonborn's curiosity needed answers. So while Lazgar spoke to Adelina, Mo hung to the side and nursed his beer, prepared to watch the performance when it unfolded. Lazgar was right; the worst they could say to him was no. Laz may not be much to look at, but the novelty of a singing orc bard? If he had the voice of an angel, they'd be dumb not to hire him. You just don't see a singing orc every day!