Veteran Bracket: Ceidon vs. Sumner

[Tainted Bushido]

The match begins at Midnight 7/31/2009 and ends at Midnight 8/15/2009.

Best wishes to both participants!

[Sumnner]

The common room stank, like a cesspit roasting over a roaring flame, smells of meat, sweat, blood and smoke permeating the air a thick fog. Large thick wood tables, each ringed with benches, chairs and stools, lined the walls on either side of the room. Each table was filled almost to overflowing with men and women, dressed in clothes ranging from rough farm hand woolens to rich silks and linens of well to do merchants and minor lords. Beer and ale, supplied in ample supply by a dedicated staff of white clad serving maids and men, flowed freely between all parties and many were showing the effects of the toxic brews. Rough laughter and even rougher conversation filled the air, creating a dull roar that drowned almost all other forms of noise. One of those forms, was the slow, whinning but slightly anesthetic sound of a violin.

He was seated near the center of the room, having had a space cleared for him after it was learned that he could play an instrument, his mind focused wholly on playing his violin. He had been there for close to four hours now, having allowed himself only a few short breaks and bread and water for substance. It was tiring work and he was beginning to feel the effects, but he persisted; this was the one thing he knew best and he was do it for as long as he could, to the best of his ability. He wore a tight smile as he slowly drew his horse hair bow across the taught strings, the somber sounds of an age old love song filling the air around him.

"Hey doll," a crystal clear, light feminine voice whispered in his ear. "Why don't you take a break from that thing, you've been playing for hours without a break." His tight smile widened and he drew the bow across the strings one last time before he brought the dark wood instrument down from below his chin. Resting it lightly on his knee, the black wood neck resting against his shoulder, he turned slightly to face the smiling face of the serving maid who had spoken to him.

"I'm sorry Alice, but I'm afraid I must decline your offer just one more time." His smile was pleasant, but forced. He had been dodging this woman's advances all night, and it wasn't that he didn't find the woman attractive, far from the truth that, it was that he just didn't feel up to spending the night with someone. He didn't want to tell her to leave him alone, he enjoyed the attention, as any normal man would. So, instead of ignoring her, pushing her away, or any of the like, he reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "A glass of water though, would be nice."

Her smile was real, if a little seductive, and she shook her head as she straightened. "Of course, I will return shortly." With that she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone in a small sea of humanity. His smile faded quickly into a small frown and after a moment of silence, he replaced the violin beneath his chin and once again began drawing the bow back and forth across the strings.

The somber love song once again began filling the air.

[Ceidon]

<<Sorry for the delay my friend. I recently moved into a new apartment and had to get the Internet set up properly. Expect a reply from me right after you post from now on. Oh, and you have full permission to bunny Ceidon if you want. Just please don't kill him!>>

The forest town of Underwood was silent save for the shanty Forrester’s Pub, a local dive. Renowned for its strange vodka/ale mix and live local music, the pub drew in a variety of dregs from across Althanas. Ceidon Lore was seated at a table near the bar with a stein of Forrester’s Ale in front of him. His drink contained only 10% vodka, but he was still beginning to feel its effects. Ceidon was joined by his fellow Order of the Golden Dawn members, Caldwell Lemmings and Chromanon Rockskin.

Moments earlier Chromanon commented that the violin and its dapper handler were far too posh for the drab establishment, but Ceidon rather liked the music. It reminded him of a time when he escaped a mercenary with a violin and a cucumber. He was sharing the story with the group.

“So basically I was able to convince the guy that I had just recovered the Great Cucumber of Jordhan Kol'Alamar, the shape shifter. The cucumber, naturally, being the source of Kol’Alamar’s power.” Caldwell and Chromanon looked puzzled. They clearly did not know who Jordhan Kol’Alamar was or that the warrior was powered by a fascinating technology called ‘nanomachines’. “Anyway, the mercenary still tried to kill me after I’d given him the cucumber so I ended up having to break the priceless violin I’d just recovered on his head to escape.” They understood that irony and laughed. Ceidon finished, “Just so you know, I took back my cucumber and ate it too! It was great.”

When the second wave of laughter subsided, Ceidon’s eyes drifted center of the room and onto a young lady speaking with the violinist. “Alice is so pretty,” he said, causing the rest of the table to turn in unison. Ceidon knew her name because earlier he’d made a game with Chromanon where each time she returned to the table they would take turns using ‘Alice’ in a sentence.

“Oh just talk to her!” Chromanon exclaimed. His outburst was probably loud enough for Alice to hear. “You’re not going to get anywhere by sitting here and staring at her.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Ceidon asked.

“Oh man, you’re such a rookie,” Caldwell interrupted. “Here’s what you do. You walk up to her when she’s around a bunch of people and ask her ‘Do you have a map?’ she’ll say ‘No, why?’ and you say ‘Cause I just got lost in your eyes.’ Chromanon shook her head but Ceidon laughed. “Seriously, when you say it around drunken people they will cheer you on and pressure her into a reply.”

“I’m sure she puts up with that crap all the time,” Chromanon said. “You’ve got to be genuine, Ceidon. Build a relationship with her. Try this: ask her ‘If you could be anything on earth what would you be.’ She’ll answer then you say ‘Well, I’d want to be a tear drop…born in your eyes, live on your cheeks and die on your lips.” Caldwell snorted. “Trust me, I’m a lady.” Chromanon added.

“No, you’re a rock…” Caldwell began, but stopped when Alice walked by. Everyone at the table watched her as she moved to the bar to fill the violinist’s order. She turned around briefly and four eyes quickly looked away, all but Ceidons. “Oh, just go!” Caldwell said, pushing at Ceidon’s shoulder.

“But I can’t just go up there. She obviously knows we’re talking about her.”

“Oh here you big baby.” Chromanon grabbed Ceidon’s stein and chugged it. She slammed the glass down in front of Ceidon and wiped her mouth. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Gee thanks,” Ceidon replied catching the message. He grabbed the glass and stood up, bumping his knee against the table and causing beer to spill all over Caldwell. Caldwell cursed by Ceidon ignored him and attempted to focus on where he was going. When he arrived at the packed bar, he slid into a small gap between Alice and another patron.

Before Ceidon could think of anything to say to the waitress, the bartender asked, “What can I get you?”

“Erm,” Ceidon was looking at Alice. “Do you have a map?” Alice turned and looked at him. “What?” she and the bartender asked in unison. “Oh, I mean I want a tear drop: born your lips, die on your cheek, lost in your eyes.” Alice and the bartender exchanged puzzled looks. “Oh, goodness, I don’t usually do this,” Ceidon mumbled, gathering his thoughts. “I mean, what drink do you suggest, Alice?”

Before she could reply, Ceidon blurted out, “You’re pretty.” The awkward silence thereafter indicated that everyone within a 20 foot radius heard his shout. Ceidon looked down, embarrassed. The bartender smirked and Chromanon rolled her eyes.

[Sumnner]

He was lost in his music, his mind a drift in the subtle crescendos and powerful low notes of the song. His head bobbed in time with the music and he even sang softly, too soft to be heard by anyone save those who were but inches from his face. He finished drawing the bow across the strings, dragging the last long note like a lonely ghosts forlorn cry. Those few around him who appreciated the slow, sorrowful tone of his music, wiped the few tears left in their bloodshot eyes and clapped loudly, calling for more. He only smiled, nodded in their direction and set his gaze onto other things. Such as, for instance, the location of his ordered glass of water. It should have been there by now and he was feeling the beginnings of a strong headache approaching.

His eyes scanned the mass of people around him, searching out the flowing brown hair that signaled the serving maid, Alice. After a moment his eyes caught a hold of her and the smile grew, if only slightly. She had just finished up at the bar and was making her way toward him, weaving in and out of the mass of men and occasional woman. One group. seated at a table near the bar, was laughing uproariously and pointing toward a rather disheveled looking fellow hanging his head at the bar. He couldn't imagine why and didn't really care; the thought had already left his by the time Alice arrived at his side.

Immediately he noticed something was amiss and judging by the narrowing of her chocolate brown eyes toward the bar, it probably had something to do with the disheveled man. He glanced back toward the bar and after a brief moment of silence, reached up to gently take the glass from her partially outstretched hand. She started, as was expected, and he quickly compensated for her over reaction, catching the glass just as she let it go.

"I'm so sorry," she said in her musical voice, her eyes shifting between the glass, the floor and him, checking for any soiled clothes or feelings. Her face was all fright and worry and for once, his smile wasn't forced. It was quite humorous. He lifted the glass to his lips and drank deeply.

"No need ma'am," he said with a smile. "I was up to the challenge." He lifted the glass slightly and she giggled, drawing herself slowly upright while brushing her apron. He gestured toward the bar. "Rough crowd this evening?" Her eyes glanced toward the bar and for a moment, narrowed, before returning to his. She shook her head but a glance at the floor told him that he had hit his mark.

"No, nothing more than the usual," she said, twisting the last word around her tongue like it was a curse. "Just some drunk idiot who thinks he knows the way of a woman." It was her turn to force a smile for him, her eyes glancing to his, her hands continuing to smooth her apron.

"Ahhh, yes," he said, a forced tone of understanding wrapping itself around his words. "Well I, personally, could never make such a claim, as it is not my place to do so. You are meant for better things I think Alice, and you always remember that. Don't let anyone, especially a drunken idiot, tell you any different." He forced a wide smile, hoping it would work as he had hoped.

It did, just not in the way he had expected. She smiled, yes, and giggled a little, this he had expected, but the hug, wasn't on his list of anticipated reactions. It caught him off guard and he almost pushed her away. Almost, but he didn't, and he was grateful that he didn't.

"Oh thank you," she said quickly, pushing herself up from around his shoulders, letting him room to adjust his now rumpled shirt. "I think I needed that. No, I did need that. It helped, it really did." He could only smile, slightly less forced this time, and he reached down to retrieve his glass. "Could you play something a little less depressing this time?" The question stopped him dead in his tracks, halfway to his glace, hunched over like a cripple. "That last song made me want to cry. Play something," she paused. "That you could dance to."

He finished his motion and drank his water to stall. It was gone all too soon and he set the glass down to the floor a little harder than he wanted too. "Sure," he said, the words escaping from his mouth before he could reign them in. Aw shit. "I'd love too."

With that, he stood, his violin poised beneath his chin and his bow ready, and began to play a jumpy tune, happy and blissful. A song that any man, drunk, depressed or suicidal, would get up and dance to.

[Tainted Bushido]

Ceidon's inability to post in a timely manner disqualifies him. Sumner advances.