Sing Me a Song, Tell me a Tale [EVENT]Started by Irilandra at Dec 17, 2019 11:56 am
Jamaxis 1, 1201 AB
A notice has gone up all over Aberheil City. It reads.
The Gilded Harp is holding a contest to discover the best talents that Aberheil has to offer. We will accept the first ten entries to compete against Lady Steros for her place as lead entertainer. The prize for the contest will be 10,000 gold pieces and a permanent position working for the Gilded Harp. Register by speaking with either the owner or manager.
OOC Info: Going to use a mix of RNG rolling and audience favoritism to decide who wins this. Beatrix will have a little bit of an advantage since she is there already. I'll provide more details as we have them. To register, you can either post in a thread and link it here or just comment on this thread, which will eventually evolve into the IC contest. There is no limit on characters per player that can compete.
Ku'mak stepped into the noisy tavern full of liquor and meaty smells, casting an uncertain, mismatched glance to the taller, cloaked figure entering with him. Somehow, his wise and clever companion convinced him that this public competition was a good idea. There was also the slightest chance some of his old bard friends were here to partake in the action for the sake of competition amongst themselves.
He'd much rather do that. It would have taken his mind off the idea of employment in a place like this.
Ku'mak kept his armor on, but he wore more cozy looking clothes over it given the weather--long sleeves, long pants, a cozy cloak with its hood set back. His long, black hair was braided back and tucked under the collar of his cover. His favorite hand drum was tucked under an arm, and his panpipes were strung around his neck—the necessities.
Nothing the Starsinger wore was garish, and none of those clothes fully hid the strange, orcish tattoos on his hands and face, but he had no issues with showing them either. The wood elf did not need to consciously check his breathing, he had done it enough for it to be a habit. Being around people and singing (especially) required it.
The wood elf scanned the faces of the patrons while he was in the doorway:
Ku'mak been here before, so his attention sought the manager or the (more surprising) owner next. He leaned toward one of the guards, "I'm here to register for the competition. Where are Robert and Lady Valkoran?"
The tall, cloaked figure that steps in behind Ku'mak earns herself a few glances just by appearing. The elf is a welcome sight, his purpose discernable by the drum in his arm and the panpipes he wears. She is a mystery, a stranger. Her hood casts her face in shadows to all but the most discerning of gazes, and her clothing gives little hint to her intentions. Her robes, cloak and hood are black, brown and gray, threaded here and there with purple. Maybe she is Ku'mak's bodyguard.
Ten thousand gold is a fortune even if you don't take the job. You could crush them all. She had persuaded him, and isn't going to leave him to sing his soul out alone.
"Robert's there," the guard says, gesturing to a tall, stocky man behind the bar. He gives Abra a lingering look, but can't discern anything openly objectionable.
Lazgar strode with an easy gait toward The Gilded Harp, more confident about entering now that he'd been here already. He'd spoken with the owner and the manager, making his talents known. However, he also needed to officially register for the contest. Strapped to his back was the case he carried, shaped like that of a giant battle axe, the case held more than one use - a literal and figurative axe. For music and battle all in one, though his song could be used for offense and defense quite easily.
The Half Orc stepped through the door, clad in his usual garb, worn from time on the road but not so much to put a damper on his appearance. His own orcish tattoos visible, hair cascading over his shoulders, and facial hair surprisingly neat - He wanted to look the part for this important even. Although, he stops in his tracks completely upon spotting Ku'mak, unsure of what to say and wondering why another Starsinger was here of all places. But spotting the drum and panpipes places his mind at ease, if only slightly.
"I'm here to register as well," is said, eyes roving over Ku'mak and Abra, though words meant for the guard. "Ku'mak. You've come to share your talents, have you? This should be an interesting competition then."
Abra half-turned to look over her shoulder at the sound of Ku'mak's name and regarded Lazgar with her usual--but not unfriendly, seriousness. "Akor's blessings upon you," she said to the younger clansmen. "And good luck. If you're going to beat Ku'mak, you're going to need it." The barest hint of a smile took some of the gravity from her words.
Robert nodded and scribbled Lazgar's name down under Ku'mak's. "Good, excellent!"
Ku'mak nodded to the guard, "Thank you," and made his way to Robert to register. The man seemed to already know why he was there, because the bard was signed up before he actually spoke with him. Laz'gar caught the elf's attention given his familiar voice. Just like the other orc, Ku'mak, also, was not expecting to see another Starsinger here besides himself and Abra.
"Ku'mak. You've come to share your talents, have you? This should be an interesting competition then," Laz'gar stated in his surprise. The elven Starsinger missed any uncertainty or nervousness from him, greeting the young orc with a natural, and warm smile.
"It should, yes. I didn't expect to see you here, of all places." It wasn't entirely unusual to find a familiar face, and he knew that. Starsingers traveled; and even if orc bards were uncommon, Laz'gar was a bard no less. He was bound to explore a little.
"Akor's blessings upon you," Ku'mak heard Abra begin to Laz'gar. His gaze swung to her. "And good luck. If you're going to beat Ku'mak, you're going to need it."
Ku'mak crossed his arms, inhaling the pride Abra felt in his abilities with a slightly mischievous and endeared smile aimed right at her. He wasn't going to reject her confidence in him, or show his uncertainty. Not in front of someone else--especially a rival orc. The elf did have an advantage, being known in the area and having met with other bards here before. He was also old. Very..very..very old. But in the end whether or not his skill, over Laz'gar's, pleased the audience the most was what mattered for the prize.
"It's been some time since we've heard your music. We're looking forward to hearing how you've refined your skills." Ku'mak smiled genuinely, but there was the slightest bit of smugness behind it and an heir of expectation in his mismatched gaze. "Did the competition bring you here? Or was there another cause that brought you around?"
Mo makes his way into The Gilded Harp with his hood drawn and his pace light. There was the orc. Had he signed up for the competition already? And who was he talking to? Mo didn't want to get involved in unnecessary conversation, but he took a seat by the stage, likely in Lazgar's line of sight as he took down his hood to show those pointed ears and bright white hair. He's hard to miss like this, and though he never intends to, he turns a few heads. He's a looker, but he ignores the attention in favor of flagging down a barmaid to order a dark ale. When she bustles off, he gets comfortable and eventually offers a brief wave to Lazgar. His focus on the orc doesn't linger, however, and he is soon just waiting for the competition to start. Things are better when his ale arrives, and he takes a quick sip of it in satisfaction.
Lazgar regards Abra with a solemn and respectful nod, "Akor's Blessings upon you as well." Ku'mak's words and actions do some to ease his worries, allowing the half-orc's inner self to take a deep breath - his outer self is very composed, the face of a warrior ready to go into battle...their battlefield the stage and weapons the instruments.
"Then I look forward to hearing what you have prepared, Ku'mak. Best of luck to you. I've learned some new songs on my journey as well. The bard looks up just in time to see Mo shuck that hood, a yearning to talk to him only outweighed by the elders before him. He couldn't rightfully go over there and act flirtatious as he wanted to, but he does send a wink of acknowledgment to the Dragonborn.
"We're certain to give the people a good show. I look forward to seeing who else shows up as well." The Half-orc sweeps a small bow, "If you will excuse me."