RP:A Monster Slain

Summary

Gilemdar travels into Xalious, where he finds a meadow and a fellow traveler. They exchange a few words and Gil creates a song on the spot, then performs it for Rumiko.

The RP

Rumiko sat in the midst of the open meadow; the ever darkening sky giving way to the splatter of starlight. It had been a long time, too long even, since the druid had stepped foot in this place. Teeth wore down on a full bottom lip as she looked over the cliff and outward while fingers curl around the loose spirals that fell against bare shoulders. "Ciaran..." It was a name not said aloud in years. The nymph's twin had been lain to rest here, having been slain before her own eyes as she hid, helpless and afraid under a table. She would never be that helpless again. "Why did I ever come back..."

Gilemdar straddles the path that leads into the meadow like a youth fresh out on adventure. A 'jingle' accompanies his stride like an ever-present herald of his arrival - three bells strung, obviously as some bizarre form of fashion, on his hip. His attempt at a jovial entrance might perhaps diminish in the presence of his newfound brooding companion, who he spots like a stalking cat on the hunt. "Lo', traveler," Comes a nigh sing-song voice, far too feminine to be anything but Elven. He hurries his pace a respectable degree, bells jingling all the way. Dare he traipse in on a woman, lost in thought? He sure does! The Bard runs a hand through his messy blond hair, a smile on his lips and mischief in his eyes, "Would the lady acquiesce a simple Bard's request for company this eve?" His voice maintains that, more than likely, obnoxious sing-song quality. At his left hip is a sword, his right a book and a flute. His cape shows signs of recent traveling - all the way from Cenril - but still manages to really accentuate his appearance... or so he'd like to think. It sparkles in the fading light a myriad of colors, which is only enhanced by a flick of his wrist - he has a thing for the dramatic.

Rumiko 's left brow quirked at the sound of bells- small and jingly as they were. Red crowned head turned slow at Gilemdar's approach, and where once she might have shot flame at him for intruding, the nymph simply dipped her head. Personal growth, and all that. "If said bard promises to not sing..." Harlequin colored gaze looked over his attire, his weapons and cape, "Though I've a feeling that might not be easy." She reached out to tap the earth at her side in silent invitation, though she'd be looking back towards the cliff whether he sat or not.

Gilemdar completes a deep bow, as though paying respect to her graciousness, "You are ever so kind, thank you." In a moments time, he takes up a spot next to her. Though, to be honest, it does take him a few moments to adjust his cape, his sword and everthing else he happens to be travelling with, in order to get comfortable. The Elf regards the scene, taking stock of exactly -what- they're looking at. Ignoring her warning of no singing (come on, a visit with a Bard and NO singing?), he chooses to move on with the conversation, "What are we looking for, out there on the horizon?" His green-eyed gaze turns to meet Rumiko's, a fire of intelligence burning brightly within, searching her eyes as much as she searches the area beyond the cliff's reach.

Rumiko ignored him only until she reaized he was watching her. "I am trying to figure out if coming back was such a good idea." The memories that flooded her head of that night in the tavern sure made her feel like it wasn't. "I do not recognize anyone, the lands have changed, my family..." She froze, as if someone had struck a pause button on their own personal Rumi-remote. It would be an almost full thirty seconds before she continued on, as if nothing had happened and the span of silence was but a dream, "Is no longer here. What little I have left I have all but abandoned to return to this place that once held my heart and now seems only that of a husk of what might have been." Lips curved downward in a frown for but a moment before she turned in her seated position to fully face the elf at her side. He was easy to look at, easier to focus on then the swamp of her past that threatened to eat her alive. "And you?" Hand found their way to her lap then, to curl finger around themselves for lack of anything else to hold. "What brings you out so late? There are monsters about in the dark, you know?"

Gilemdar adopts a sympathetic look to his angular elven features, brows furrowing and lips frowning. Her tale is one he has heard often, not identical, no, but surely one shared with many of the populace of Lithrydel with variation here or there; its a story of loss, of heartbreak and distant memories passed. It seems this land is rife with death, abandonement and otherwise outright chaos. It's partly why he decided to come, to write the songs that his own heart sings, and perhaps those of others. What is it hers tells him, he wonders? "Monsters, hmm? I should like to think that I'm capable of handling beasts." The beasts he's encountered are few and often only while he dreams, but he doesn't make mention of that. From a distant perspective, one might understand he's simply trying to make light of the situation by playing the fool. "Oh lovely maiden, whispering from her heart. A mind heavily laden, a beautiful work of art." He begins in a whisper, alike the poetic verse states. Green-eyes holding hers, if she would allow it, "She resides within this meadow, a blink and you'll miss the moment..." He begins to tap the book on his hip rhythmically, his voice elevating from a whisper to song, "But does she even know? An honor and bestowment, to share your company'oh." He stands up now, obviously ignoring any of her motions to get him to stop - if there are any. He's just gotta sing, dammit! "Just lift your chin, come smile with me! All is right while the stars shine brightly." Producing a lute from his back, he strums while singing, "Oh lovely maiden, whispering from her heart. A mind free, no longer laden, a beautiful work of art." His music and voice are fashioned together in an age-old demonstration of raw Bardic magic, a trick to help ease a person's mind and uplift their spirits. Obviously, he probably should have thought more about WHO he was singing to and less about what he was singing. You can't blame him, really. This meadow is practically overflowing with possible songs for the Bard to sing. As his song dies down and diminishes, he offers a bow with a dramatic flourish of his cape.

Rumiko , in another place and another time, would have pulled the dagger hidden at her hip, and let it fly towards those pretty emerald eyes in an effort to make the singing stop. Instead she pushed herself to her feet soon after the bard, though rather than jumping into song the nymph crossed her arms over her middle and arched a single brow. Maybe it was the fact that he bothered to sing for her at all, or the fact that he dared to after she'd warned him against it, but she smirked. It might even have been more of a grin. "Lovely maiden." It was a half whisper. Slow steady steps propelled her forward then, towards the elf so she may reach out to pat his shoulder. "If only you knew." Rumi was heading past then, back towards the city of the dead, most like. "Not all monsters can be slain with swords." It was called out over her shoulder. "Some just need a song."