RP:A Bard and A Stranger

Synopsis: Graham, a traveling bard finds himself in Kelay tavern of all places and gives a rather pushy greeting to a stranger! Going so far as to pretend to be her server for a moment, before he’s reprimanded. During this little introductory conversation, he learns of Tristina’s hunt for a man with a peculiar aura and is inspired for a new tale…

A bard and a Stranger

Graham could not have been more subtle while slipping through the tavern door. For lack of better words, he cartwheels through the entrance as if on display for the public huddled around those poor crafted tables and fine brewed beer… Truthfully, the patrons pay no mind to his antics and continue minding their own business. Who figured that the evidence of battle around the tavern meant that these people were used to the obnoxious sort? He certainly had no idea. Instead, Graham fixes his gaze upon Mesthak and meanders to the barkeep. For all intents and purposes, this bard might be considered an average looking human. As if nothing special loomed to snatch a passerby and draw attention to himself; save for two attributes which unknowingly worked together. His eyes, grey and thick with a presence like ever-hanging thunderclouds looming overhead; brimming with an untold sorrow, but alluring in their own right. The second is his smile - which sits upon his roguish features in direct contrast to those storm riddled eyes. Crafted to disarm the evils of the world and put one's mind at ease. “I’ll take a whiskey, my good man.” His voice is velvety smooth and backed by a single raised eyebrow. For now he is content to wait for an opportunity.

Tristina walks in slowly her eyes unfocused a little as she moves to an out of the way table ordering milk if anyone happens by to take her order

Graham idly pulls his left hand through those thick, medium length black locks upon his head - adjusting the well kept mess and removing those few feral strands which block his view. The ordered whiskey is matter-of-factly slapped down on the counter before him with a grumble. But Grahams gaze isn’t swayed to shift from his drink. Nor does he lose that same disarming smile etched into his features. “Thanks,” he adds politely while wondering what this lands whiskey might taste like. The stranger Tristina’s entrance is noticed as he is ever aware of his surroundings and opportunities to make friends and coin. The waitress does indeed snag her order for milk, but Graham is quick to swoop in and pluck the drink from her hands with a wink. As if suddenly on call to be a waiter for Kelays tavern, he waves his hand dramatically and a towel is suddenly draped over his arm. In mere moments his light footsteps have brought him to the strangers table. Obviously he had forgotten about his own drink due to his cat-like curiosity. “Viola, madam. Your milk just as you have ordered.” Though he is a bit of a goofball, the glass is gracefully placed upon the table. Graham, what are you doing? “Now, I know my appearance is sudden, but I was wondering if I might be able to join you for a little conversation?” Once again he delivers an authentic smile, and waves his hand towards an empty seat across the table.

Tristina looks at him then blinks and looks at him again before shrugging "If you wish to I have no objection to conversation." She eyes her drink a little distrustful of it after the flamboyant arrival.

Graham is suddenly the victim of an assault. His joyous demeanor is strangled to death by a look of pain, and then confusion. His roguish features twist up in reaction and a single hand moves to his chest in shock. “You don’t work here,” the waitress nearly screams at him after colliding her serving tray with the top of his head. “And I’d advise you to stop that nonsense or I’ll have Mesthak toss you out!” She twists her gaze to Tristana, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” She sprays those words out as if hinting at bringing a different glass of milk out. Graham pulls his hand away and responds verbally. “Forgive me miss. I meant no harm, just a reason for conversation.” The contents of her drink are exactly what she has ordered, nothing more, nothing less. The bard sighs reluctantly and pulls up a chair across from her, waiting for Tristina to decide on getting a new drink or not. Once that has been decided, he breaks the silence, “I must apologize. I’m a little eager to meet new faces in these lands. I’m used to a more open environment.” He did get a little excited, and realizes that he should probably calm his approach. That smile is once again delivered.

Tristina nods to the waitress "It is alright little one I will keep an eye on him for now." She cups her taloned hands around her drink. "You should be careful in places like this the waitstaff often are trained to pout a unruly warrior out cold to protect themselves and the business. "

Graham raises an eyebrow at Tristina’s response. “But I am not an unruly warrior. Nor am I a man of violent means. Instead, I prefer to hear the tales of such people and embellish them for stories I weave upon a stage.” He looks towards the waitress and then back to the stranger. “But you’re right, I should mind my manners in new places. I certainly don’t need any further reprimand.” He gives only a moment's pause to look upon her clawed hand before speaking. “My name is Graham, a simple traveling bard in search of a guild where I might ply my trade. Heck,” His stormy eyes sweep across the tavern, “or a good stage and excellent company.” Finally his gaze moves back to her, without losing that sorrow which drowns his eyes. “Might you have a story?”

Tristina sips her milk meeting his eyes "Not one I can remember in less you count wandering around looking for someone and getting odd looks every time I describe him."

Graham continues to let his curiosity get the better of him. Odd looks every time she describes him? “Well, I do travel often, what does this person look like? Perhaps I can direct them to you if I stumble upon your target in my travels?” He’s hinting at a few things: Her name for one. Secondly the description which has further pulled him into conversation. Besides, the enlisted aid of a bard might not be bad, right?

Tristina her eyes get a little dreamy "He has the most beautiful aura all blues, teal, ocean, and swirling gold glowing like the sun!" She sighs and sips her milk again about finishing it.

Graham takes notice of Tristina’s expression change and is struck by a sudden realization. Is she in love? Oh dear, he couldn’t have found a better person to pull into a simple chat, but he couldn’t help her with that description. Nay, he can’t see aura’s. “I sense a story.” He folds his hands upon the table betwixt the duo. “Please, tell me. When was the last time you saw your love?” Is that the right choice of words Graham? Who cares. “And how did you lose him?” If he were a dog, he’d be drooling and wagging his tail right now.

Tristina looks away wincing "That is a mystery I can't solve my memory.." Shrugs and makes an open handed jester as if to say something is out of reach.

Graham follows Tristina’s open handed gesture. If he had been but a mage specializing in memory magic, or perhaps any magic beyond healing and his bardic arts, he might have offered her help. The problem now is that, his curiosity brought him to a dead end road. He couldn’t pluck a story from this stranger. Not when she can’t bring forth the details. What a shame, but at least the premise of a story had been drawn. This clawed stranger, searches for a lost love who carries a magnificent aura of blues, teals and swirling gold that glows like the sun. He almost half frowns at the promise of her tale, but perhaps he will create one that uses her details, albeit a tragic one which he loathes to tell. “So you can’t recall the story?” What exactly happened?

Tristina shrugs her wings rustling "I am here he is not we are alive so I go on searching." Finishes off her drink, but I would not call it living not without my heart the shining light of my days my strong right hands the other half of my soul. The air is flat, food and drink as dust, the very songs of the birds dull and of no note."

Graham ponders over such a distasteful description. Life absent the pleasantries of song birds and delicious food and drink? How exquisitely mundane! He could certainly add such things to the story his minds eye has begun to weave. However truthful it might actually be is a different story. "Well then, madam, I will certainly keep my eyes peeled for a man befitting your description. If I do meet such a man," he waves his hand in the air for a dramatic affect. "I'll send him to Kelay." He proffers one final nod to this mysterious person before coming to an abrupt stand. He still had not received her name. Tis a shame to say the least, but oh well. "If you'll excuse me, I've a drink to finish and a new story to write. Inspired by you." If she offers no reason for him to stop, Graham will make his way to the whiskey he left sitting out at the counter, drink it and provide coin for the item in question. The traveling bard then gives a polite wave and heads out in search of an awe inspiring spot to write. "I hope to see you again, when this story has been written." He lifts his hand as a final goodbye and exits the facility.