A Song and a Thought

[Lathienas Miraq]

'Ugh...mmf..aggh!'

Thien wretched again, and retreated from the alley behind the herbalist's shop. He lent on a corner of a large rough-stone building and surveyed the market in front of him. His quest for a 'perfect focus' had led him to a the Bazaar and he was determined to find something to help him concentrate. Herbs, however were obviously not the way to go, at least not the one's that the herbalist had had him try anyway.

He strolled among the bustling horde and purused the wares on offer from the myriad merchants, traders and buisnessbeings plying their trades. He lingered around a gemstone stall run by a surly looking dwarf and toyed with the idea of buying something to try and carve. However he was not confident enough in his skills for this, and besides, a glint of gold from a sculptor's table had caught his eye. The dwarf looked slightly put out at being abandoned while explaining the trivialties of ruby embossing. Thien strode purposefully toward the gilded statue of an elven maiden that had caught his eye, ignoring the protests of merchants with a more linear path.

His weaving eventually drew him to the end of the long cobbled street, and a beautiful sound caressed his ears. Sitting alone and cross-legged on the floor, almost obscured by a large beacon for the night-time travellers, was a dark-elf. The elf's fingers were playing across the holes of an ornamented tin-whistle and he coaxed a haunting tune from the instrument. He swayed gently in time to the music and his eyes were closed. Thien could feel the emotion, pouring into the song and he leaned against the beacon while he listened. The elf brought the song to a close, ending on single long note. He opened his eyes and looked directly at Thien, seeming unsuprised by the half-elf's presence. His voice was harsh and grating when he spoke:

'Do you play, half-bred one?'

'No'

Again the elf showed no signs of surprise or other emotion due to Thien's response.

'If you wish, I could teach you the rudiments of the wind-bearing instrument.'

Thien nodded and sat beside the dark elf, leaning on the hewn stone of the wall behind him. He sat for hours as the other guided his fingers and mind in the ways of the music. He could feel his body becoming calmer every time he played a note and as he became more accustomed to the breath patterns and fingerings, the dark-elf pulled out a set of pan-pipes and accompanied him. The pipes were beautifully made of some kind of deep, dark brown wood and a green marbled effect had been stained onto the crossbar. The mouthpieces of the pipes were coated in horn, to prevent wearing of the wood. Blue knotted designs had been faintly traced into the cream coloured horn covering. Instantly, as the dual sound of the instruments entwined, Thien felt a great weight soar from his body and he joined the elf in closed-eyed swaying. This, he was sure, was how he could focus his thought to purify his writings. After many hours of playing both instruments, Thien regretfully had to leave. He bade the bard farewell and proceeded to wander elatedly along the street, weaving slightly in his euphoria.

Though the night was drawing in, a few of the stores near the market were still trading. Having wandered for nearly half an hour, Thien nearly tripped over a lute that was propped against a doorway. Stumbling, he righted himself and looked at the shop that had carelessly left the instrument to cripple him. The shop was a purveyor of musical knowledge. His thoughts fled back to the ornate pan-pipes and he entered the shop, hoping to find something similar. He searched the displays and though he found some orante and archaicly detailed pipes, he could see none that matched the simple, yet intriuging design of the dark elf's instrument. Feeling disappointed, he was about to leave when he decided to question the owner on where he might locate such a piece. He rapped on the desk by a doorway to a back room and called out.

'Might you know where I could locate a specific design of pipes?'

Please let me know if this is going to prove to be monumentally expensive as I will then drop the idea...

[Viola Conda]

"Pipes eh?" The old man said tiredly. "I happen to know a few people." He whistled a tune about the storms of Concordia as he locked up his shop for the day.

"It really depends on you lad." He spoke frankly. "You have a design in mind? Do you have a material you were looking for? The more details young man, the better."

[Lathienas Miraq]

Thien remembered the Piper's playing. If he could play like that before attempting his inscriptions then he could raise his concentration and possibly imbue better magic to his stones. He fantasized for a moment and then concentrated on the requested information:
'The pipes I have in mind are of Dark-elven origin.' He assumed this from the way the bard had lovingly fingered the pipes as he played. ' They were of average quality with an emphasis as much on aesthetic as practicality. Oak was the wood of the pipes, if memory serves from the forests, with steel for the crossbar. The steel was marbled green and the wood a deep brown.'

Thien realised he was grinning absent-mindedly as he recounted the details of the instrument. He attempted to regain his composure but failed. It took him a second or two but he eventually rearranged his face to more serious cast.
'The tops of the pipes were rimmed with horn to prevent chewing of the wood and preserve the sound. These were covered in knotted blue designs, purely decorative I presume.'

'I would very much like to locate a set of pipes like these, can you help me to find them?'

He looked hopefully at the aged shopkeeper and awaited his reply.

[Viola Conda]

The old man gave the elf a precarious look before shrugging. "Good enough Details. I know a friend who deals with the Dark Elves of Concordia, he may be able to track down an instrument like that...So to pay off my friend, go through red tape and expedite shipping I can have it in two days time...assuming it is already made. If not...well I'm sure they be willing to barter it off. Hmm, okay with my cut, my friends cut, and the materials for the trade to get such an item it will come out to about...oh...100GP. That covers shipping and everything. Mind you the materials won't be the highest grade, just a simple set of pipes. Will that do young man?"

[Lathienas Miraq]

Thien considered the offer for all of 20 seconds in his head before tryng to barter. Although he could scrounge from the forests untill he had regained the money to buy lodging, he was loath to do so. On the other hand he was practically transfixed by the idea of the pipes, especially now they were within his grasp. He was torn between the two ideals before an idea occured to him.

'How about I pay you 70gp to cover the costs but I work off the rest that would be your cut? I could help to sell your wares and possibly even with maintenance after a little training. Surely you could do with an extra pair of hands sometimes?'

Thien was upset at the idea of being tied down for a while, especialy working, but he had an almost physical need for the pipes at this point. The man coudn't refuse a genuine offer of help, could he?

[Viola Conda]

The older man gruffed in anger as the elf before him begged for a way to pay off his debt. The problem wasn't that he was understaffed, it was that he wasn't getting enough jobs to pay his current staff. He couldn't allow this person to just walk in and do the work of his paid staff members, and hope for the chance to gain some form of cut on the costs. But he sighed realising this man was in desperate need of this instrument.

"How about this boy. Why don't you go off to the southern sunset tavern and tell Meg you are willing to work for her. Depending on how well you do she may be able to pay you the coins for the instrument. It all depends on how bad you want them."

((Okay, here's the deal. You got one, only one, post to make a chance to earn the coinage for the instruments. You scenario if you need one is you are working a very tattered, scum port bar for the woman Meg, an older, heavy set woman. I'll judge that post in how much effort you put into it, and depending on how hard you work at it I'll give you a discount, however, once I come to a final cost, it is final. Grammer, errors, spelling, all of it counts, so do well! and good luck.))

[Lathienas Miraq]

Thien thanked the merchant for the offer, and turned to leave the shop. As he stepped out into the night air, a swift breeze howled down the street. He hugged his cloak tighter about his shoulders and looked around. He knew that the tavern in question was near the docks, so he made his way through the darkened town to the shoreline. Walking through the dockyards, hunched over to avoid unnecessary attention, he searched for the Southern Sunset. Eventually he found the tavern, after asking directions from a seedy looking sailor and his friend.

Thien found the pub by orienting on the cheering that was rising from it. Approaching the rotten wooden door, Thien peered into the gloom within. A large room greeted him, dimly light by oil-lamps and candles that adorned the walls. Several low-slung tables haphazardly arranged and covered in drinks and drunks. A bar ran parallel to the opposite wall. A similarly low-slung woman sat on a stool behind the bar talking to a glassy eyed sailor who was perched on another stool. Entering the room, a sudden chill of fear swept through Thien’s heart. As he walked past a table-full of semi-sobers one of them winked and called ‘Hey pretty boy’. A few whistles accompanied the call and Thien ducked his head and hurried to the bar. The man propping up the bar was huge. Below his naval outfit, huge rolls of fat balanced precariously atop one another. He looked briefly at Thien with small, dark eyes before returning to his drink. Thien climbed onto stool and tapped the bar.

The woman behind the bar (Meg?) was cleaning a glass. Or rather, she was rearranging the dirt on the glass. She was squat and large, a face that could have been pretty if it was lacking about 30 pounds and the large scar running from an ear to her mouth. Abruptly she stopped talking to the drunk and rounded on Thien.
‘You look a little skinny to be working on the ships’ She leant forward and a sickening stench washed over Thien. ‘Unless you’re here to ply your trade with the men?’ A single eyebrow cocked in amusement and Thien looked away hurriedly.
‘Actually, I was looking for some money. An old merchant in the town said that if I worked here for a while, I might be able to get enough money to pay for his wares’
The bartender narrowed her eyes.
‘This, ‘merchant’, he wouldn’t by any chance own a music store?’
‘Yes’
‘That old bastard, sending his reject errand boys too me.’ She slammed a hand into the bar with enough force to make the tankards jump. Thien followed suit, almost falling off his stool in the process. ‘I tell you what, boy; you work here tonight and sleep it off tomorrow if you do a good job. I’ll send a message to the old git with your pay and you can go ask him ‘bout it’.
Thien accepted the offer quickly as he felt negotiation was not an option with this woman.

Meg yelled out into a back room of the tavern.
‘Hey! Hey, Patrick’
A short but thin boy, with a gaunt face and yellow teeth emerged.
‘Wha’ Ma?’
‘This ‘ere is…’ The squat woman half-turned to Thien.
‘Thien’
‘…Thien. He’s new for the night. You’ll have t’ show him the ropes. Get him helping out back.’

The scrawny youth beckoned to Thien who followed after a moment’s hesitation. Behind the bar, and through the door that Patrick had appeared from, was a staircase. Leading down the stairs, the boy’s head swivelled round and he looked questioningly at Thien.
‘What you do then? Yer not from round ‘ere are ya? I heard a couple o’ the guys call ya a pretty boy. Yer not one o’ them are ya?’ His eyes gleamed with naïve questions and Thien didn’t know where to look.
‘No, I’m not’ His embarrassment must have showed, as the boy had the grace to look away.
‘Sorry.’ The mumbled apology made Thien grin. ‘Yer paler than most folks and them ears are weird’. The ignorance of the boy was similarly amusing.

They arrived in the ale-cellar and Patrick pointed at the piles of barrels spread across the floor.
‘These gotta be took up to Ma’
They moved either side of a cask of Dwarven Firewine and heaved it off of the flagstones. Tipping it, they made slow and painful progress back up the stairs with the barrel. When they arrived, Meg directed them to ‘bung it the corner’. For he next three hours, the two of them worked solidly, carting barrels of ales, beers, spirits, wines and other fruit-brews. They talked as they worked. Thien enthralled the gangly boy with tales of his travels. In turn, the boy recounted tales of the motley crew that passed his mother’s tavern, inducing tears of laughter in Thien’s eyes many times. When the last barrel was shifted, Thien returned to the bar, while Patrick disappeared. Meg handed him a rag and told him to clean the tables, and then told him to knock-off for the night. He took the rag and moved among the barely conscious sailors, wiping and cleaning. One or two of the sailors placed a hand on his leg and muttered things like ‘Hey grey eyes, wanna party?’ but they were too drunk to care when he brushed them off and moved on.

By the end of the night, Thien’s whole body hurt and he longed to sleep. Meg confirmed her offer, although wouldn’t reveal how much she was sending to the storeowner. Thien collapsed on the bed she provided in the cheapest room of the inn and slept for the whole day and the next night. He realised he really needed to become reaccustomed to working again. The next morning, he thanked Meg and accepted her gruff grunt of thanks. Setting off, he found the town unrecognisable in the daylight and wandered for many hours before navigating back to the music shop. Fighting his way back through the hordes of buyers and merchants, once again toying with idea of buying some precious stones, he entered the shop for the second time. Moving to the counter of the oddly deserted shop, he rapped on the wood with his knuckles.

[Viola Conda]

The old man came out of the back with Thien's requested goods, a soft gentle rag polishing it as he carefully placed it on the counter top.

"Well, Meg came in and dropped off your money. It's a decent sum, but you still are going to have to eat the cost." The man took out the slip of paper and sighed. Fifteen small golden coins fell on the table. "She paid you fifteen son, so you owe me the seventy, plus fifteen which comes out 85."

[Lathienas Miraq]

Thien nodded slowly and drew the requested currency from his belt pouches. He dropped it onto the counter, hearing it clink quietly. He withdrew the pipes, a look of blissful happiness on his face. Turning, he exited the shop, marveling at his new purchase.

[Viola Conda]

((Thien loses 85GP and gains his set of pipes...um, enjoy those...don't play after ten.))

[Taskmienster]

GP deducted!