RP:Bar v. Bard

From HollowWiki

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc



Summary: Ashe gives a performance praising the fallen steward, to which many of the giants are neutral at best. The performance chases most of the giants off, but a couple linger at the bar and go as far as to hint (and perhaps more than just hint) at their displeasure towards the bard. After Ashe leaves for his own room, Ayras enters the nearly empty bar. He and Linn discuss the recent unrest, the future of Frostmaw and some of the refugees within it.


Frostmaw Tavern

Tonight is a typical evening at the Frostmaw Tavern; that is to say, typical of an evening as of late. Spirits in Frostmaw have been noticeably dimmer, its looks more sour, and the air more tense in these recent, troubled, days of bitter winter. Most of the patrons have gone home for the night, but a handfull of giants, the "good ol'" regulars, remain to drink, mutter, and study the foam of their glasses. No one, Drargon included, looks very excited to be here.


Linn had come into the tavern with his stance slightly rushed, offering Drargon a quick nod to confirm the meal that he was looking for tonight before making his way to the bar and hopping up onto one of the stools, setting his pack down next to him as the meal of stew and cider came around which he began to consume hurriedly. From the looks of it, the enchanter wanted to be somewhere important and was just getting this out of the way. The dim spirits didn’t seem to get to him right now; bigger things were on his mind.


Ashe was perhaps the only one in Frostmaw that appeared to be unchanged by the new, somber, change in the atmosphere. Perhaps, to the bard, it was simply new weather as it were. He had lingered for a while. Taking advantage of the length of the contract that remained while his hand recovered from his stunt at the ball. But, lately, since a few days, the bard had been humming on something. Drumming on a knee occasionally, and writing down lyrics on napkins and generally spent more time doing actual work-- save preforming-- rather than his usual debauchery and drinking. Now he sat in his usual chair with a drum cradled in his lap and another scribbled napkin in his hand, eying it intently until finally he rose and, in no real hurry, sauntered over towards his usual makeshift 'stage' for the first time since the ball.


Drargon is throws Linn a look, easily catching the enchanter's nod, and he answers with a nod in return, disappearing briefly into the kitchens. Meanwhile, the table of giants peer and sneak glances at Ashe as he moves to take the stage. A couple of them smirk, and they all mutter remarks amongst themselves. Is that derision in their tone? Surely it's nothing more than a little salt-of-the-earth grit. A beat of anticipation passes. Most of them return to looking at their drinks. About that time, Drargon reemerges and slides Linn two steaming items: a mug and a bowl. "There it is," is his matter-of-fact presentation.


Linn chuckled lightly at Drargon’s presentation. It was nothing new but somehow it always had some kind of charm to him. “As always.” He responded in kind. When Ashe made his way to the stage he stopped for a second to turn and watch, brows raised. The two had barely interacted, only once really and that was over a crazy conversation of fashion. Regardless, the spellfilcher was still a person of great curiosity to him, if just for that odd magical pull that he always felt in Ashe’s presence. Linn was at least aware of his performances, and the lack thereof in the past weeks. Maybe he could stay just a little bit, see what he might have made up for the patrons tonight.


Ashe had gained some popularity, before working the Ball. That's how he'd gotten to job. Of course, ever since, he'd lost most of it, if not more than he'd had to begin with. Few had any doubt of what he'd been intending to do when he approached the steward with his sword drawn. But he hadn't done it. Yet many questioned how he'd even thought to do the deed, as a stranger. Others condemned his inaction. Stuck between two extremes as it were. Still, such judgment hadn't worn on the bard much. So, the glances, the muttering, none of that seemed to impact the bard as he settled on the make-shift stag and glanced at the napkin. It would still be a while before he did anything further but eventually he would. A simple beat. Quite classical in places like Frostmaw with a oral tradition. A beat and rhythm to carry a rhyme more than a song. A story or poem told as song to be more easily remembered. A singular titular line repeated as part of a two-sentence verse with the second sentence different each time, but with the occasional break for a more typical verse of actual song. It could've been any song from Frostmaws traditional portfolio. Except it was new. A retelling of the ball. A lament for the dead, and a hail to the steward that died with-- and for-- the men and women of the city of war.


Ashe's competition is sparce. He only needs to play over the whistling of the wind outside. The muttering of the patrons, the popping of the fire, and the clanking of the bar's glassware disappear easily beneath the pulse of the drum and rhymes, making a fine backdrop for the bard's music. The mood seems instantly buoyed by the opening stanzas, but the levity is short-lived. Heads are quickly turning. Though Drargon seems intent on his mugs and his dishrag (perhaps *suspiciously* intent), the other giants' eyes have swung to land on Ashe. His performance has certainly grabbed them, and though he has their undivided attention, the bard might sense he hasn't managed to earn any cheer with his words of praise for the late steward.


Linn continued his meal in silence as Ashe began the song, though his attention had become fixed on the bard. A smile crept across his face as the story began to flow, everything in it from the attack on the ball, to those who fell in the fight, to Hildegarde’s fearless sacrifice held a deeply personal place in his heart. It was well known that the enchanter respected the steward deeply, though just how much is something that only he would be able to understand. Curiously, he glanced around the room to find the rest of the attention fixed in the same direction, save for the barkeep nearby. Slowly he settled his gaze back onto the performance, idly eating and drinking as he listened.


Ashe was a cheeky bastard. In spite of the rather... intent silence that followed his performance he stood up and bowed as if to applause none the less. Now, with many a leering eye on his person, he moved over to his seat by the bar in the deafening quiet and settled on a stool, placing the drum down in front of him.


In the wake of Ashe's performance, there is no applause, or rather, if there is any, it doesn't come from any giant. The eyes follow him intently as he bows and takes his seat. Following that thundering silence, following a long and oppressive moment of crushing stillness, there is the scuffle of scooting chairs. Some of the giants tighten up their coats and head outside, bidding Drargon simple goodbyes, see you tomorrows, and later ons. A couple stay and saunter over to the bar. They lean, elbows forward on either side of Ashe, resting their weight on the bar. "What'll it be, then?" Drargon asks the two stragglers, still not bothering to look up from his washing. "Nothin'." The one on Ashe's right rather conspicously orders while the other pulls out a staunch looking pipe and lights it. Both of them make no effort to hide their lingering, sidelong glances down at the musician.


Linn| The two giants that had settled themselves between Ashe to block Linn’s view would find the enchanter throwing his own lingering glances at the two, the order of nothing bringing a light huff as he went back to finishing his stew and cider. Nearing the bottom of his bowl he slowed down as if to make an excuse to continue sitting there, waiting for the situation to unfold. He knew the glances he had received in the past, and had become aware of the idea of replacing Hildegarde through Aira. No doubt praising the steward must have ruffled some feathers, and now Linn was just waiting for something to come of it.


As giants were leaving, the vampire was entering. Of course, the fact that he, an elf, was passing through the press of giants brought forth another round of displeasure from those that left, but the redhead hardly cares. Silver eyes pass over the tavern's interior; the mass of bodies that had left made the place look so barren to the Knight's eyes. Booted feet took the man to the bar, where he settled in on a stool, leaning forward on his elbows. A simple wave was given to Drargon to signal his desire for his usual giant-brewed ale, and as he sat there he let his attention drift to the side, where there was a pair of giants on either side of a non-giant.


Ashe simply sat where he was, nursing what was left of the drink he'd left unattended before the performance. “You sure you don't want anything boys?” he was smart enough to get the hint. But the man was clearly acting demonstratively ignorant.


Both the giant's eyes flare at Ashe's words, and they exchange glances. One exhales, and thick tobacco smoke enwreathes the musician. "Just wanted give you your tip," the other fishes out a single copper from his coinpurse, dropping it into Ashe's drink with an audible "plip". Apparently satisfied with their rather opaque display, the two push upright. "We'll be on our way, then," they announce, loudly enough so that anyone who cares to know can hear, and as they turn to go, as they're tightening their own coats, the upended pipe "happens" to knock against the bard's barstool. If Ashe isn't quick to think, he might also just "happen" to get a good dusting of soot and hot embers on his shoe. It's parting gesture as they make their way for the door. "Another tip. Head south." The door opens, the wind wails, and a moment later, the two troublemakers are swallowed up in the night.


Linn’s gaze flickered in Ashe’s direction the moment he threw the provocative statement before burying itself back in his food. When the giants left, leaving only three non-giants in the tavern with Drargon he finally spoke up for the first time with a deep sigh, “Well then. You’d think a song like that would be received a bit better.” His foot idly tapped against the ground with the quiet, but sharp rap of metal on wood to fill the otherwise eerie silence.


Ashe was probably going to need a new shoe. Or at least a to touch up the one that'd just gotten burned. The difference in dimensions between a human and a giant was all the difference. Which made the pipe-load all that much more serious. Had he been unprotected minor burns may have been added to the list of wounds the bard had suffered up north. As it was, he simply waved merrily to his 'benefactors' as the left and shook the soot and embers off his shoe. “I think I'll take this to my room, Dragorn.” were his last words for the night as he raised the glass to the rest of the patrons and wandered off.


Ayras wore a frown as he sat there next to the two giants that were harassing the bard. It was not too long ago that Frostmaw was celebrating, giant and non-giant alike sitting in the tavern making merry and enjoying each other's company. But now, ever since Hildegarde's death and the sudden lack of a ruling body, things have been turning sour. He had heard the dissent in the barracks, some siding with the Frost Giant purists, a minority of others wanting to keep the open borders. The display that played out as the two giants prepared to leave was enough to show the Knight what was becoming a common thought amongst the city's original inhabitants, and he, himself, had to be quick to move out of the way lest he become an unintended part of their grievances towards Ashe. "A pity their brains aren't big enough to take up the space in their skulls," the elf said just loud enough to be heard by the departing pair as they exited the place before he turned to regard Ashe and his circumstances. There was a distance in the vampire's eyes, as though he were both there in the tavern and elsewhere at the same time. "This city already has enough of a problem with the Steward gone, and now the old clans are acting up. Just wonderful." Linn's voice was registered somewhere in the back of Ayras' head, a familiar voice that sent the man's gaze searching despite being blinded by introspection.


Ayras's own pint arrives with a clank in front of him. "Any food before we douse out the kitchen? Hmm?" Drargon hasn't offered any comment one way or the other, and it doesn't look like he's about to start now. Several large beads of foam run down the side of the heady mug.


Linn finished his own bowl of stew and pushed it forward over the bar before going back to sipping his cider which was room temperature at this point. Fully registering Ayras’s arrival and voice he gave a single halfhearted chuckle. The two may have passed each other from time to time in the city or the fort, but never really interacted much. The vampire’s statement was enough to spark thought again in him until he finally responded, even if it wasn’t directed at him in the first place. “Glad I’m not the only one feeling things changing. I’m curious to see how Hildegarde’s return will shift everything around when it happens.” A bold statement of certainty on the steward’s revival, but one he felt strongly in knowing who was in on the project. Whatever rumors there might have been wouldn’t get any worse by now, and if someone wanted to try messing with him for it, they were more than welcome to it.


Ayras gave Drargon a simple shake of his head in answer to the question of food. He had no true need of the stuff, or even the ale for that matter. When he ate or drank, it was merely for pleasure. Tonight was not a food night. "No thank you. I'm sure your cooks will be happy to not have to try to fill my appetites." And then Linn spoke again, spoke of feeling the rumblings in the city...and spoke of Hildegarde's return. That pulled the vampire back to the here and now, his brow furrowing before a single eyebrow lofted high. "Why does everyone seem intent that the Steward will return? What does everyone know that I don't?"


Linn couldn’t help cocking a brow of his own at Ayras’s confusion. As far as he was aware the knight dealt with enough in Frostmaw for news of Leone’s plans to reach him. Offering the benefit of the doubt he explained anyway, “Leone’s working towards a resurrection and building a new heart for Hildegarde. From what I’ve seen, it all stands a good chance at actually working.” Drargon simply gave a taciturn grunt before going back to cleaning the glasses as the day came to a close.


Ayras frowned again as he mulled over the news. He was in the dark on so much, and he could place the blame on no one but himself. He had been too absorbed by his training, by his failure as a Knight, by the grumblings...He hadn't been paying attention to the heart of matters. Bad pun intended. Shaking himself from his thoughts once more, the elf took up his mug of ale and drained half of it in one go before he took to his feet and ventured to join Linn. "Well, I truly hope it works. The gods know we need the stability around here again. Some of the things I have heard the giants say...I am not looking forward to the weeks to come."


Linn continued sipping his cider slowly, taking care to make the drink last as long as he could. As Ayras came over with his hopes the enchanter nodded, “So do I.” The mention of hearing what some of the giants said led him to turn his head with brows lofted, “I heard of the giants considering a replacement for Hildegarde. Only secondhand though. I haven’t been able to catch anything definite myself, only grumbling and suspicious stares. What have you been hearing?”


Ayras 's face darkened as he remembered the things said in the barracks. "They want to put a member of one of the old clans on the throne. One of the ones that supported the rule of the giant that prohibited outsiders from entering Frostmaw." A sigh passed through the elf's lips as a hand went through that ruby-red hair of his. "A good number of the knights at the fort want to see a giant back on the throne. I would wager that there are some that haven't been as vocal about it yet that want it to return to the 'good ol' days' and see us non-giants gone from the city. I know I've received my fair share of hassle due to my lineage. They're not happy after getting dragged into the elf war."


Linn listened intently to Ayras’s recounting of some of the mutterings before releasing a dissatisfied sigh, “Great. So they want Frostmaw to be one of *those* cities.” The mention of lineage brought his gaze up to the vampire’s pointed ears. So far Talyara was probably well insulated from this whole deal with having to stay at home most of the time, though if things started blowing up it was going to feed back to the both of them. “Just for being an elf huh? Well that is going to make quite a splash if things get worse. There are a lot of elves that decided to make their homes here.” The latter half of his statement notably lacked the impersonality he previously spoke with. The prospects of such an attitude against the refugees perhaps hit him a bit more than should be expected of the wandering human.


Ayras nodded his agreement with Linn, pointedly looking into his mug instead of at Linn so as to not give the man a curious look. "Indeed. Laezila, being a drow, is going to feel the brunt of it. She already tends to get viewed as the enemy because of her race, and because she is a type of elf will only make it worse. Talyara at least has her cottage to escape to. I might recommend she take in the former Matron, should I see her again. I haven't spoken to Tally since she and I parted ways."


Linn nodded in understanding at the mention of Laezila, though the mention of Talyara led him to bite his lip nervously. “I doubt even that cottage will be enough for her if these giant clans get the way they want. Especially if she takes in Laezila. I’ve seen a few cities in my time that went that way, no one’s really safe unless they prove themselves really indispensable.” He sighed nervously, the thoughts of what the loss of their home here in Frostmaw would do to them and everyone else they had to take care of. As if to make matters worse, they needed someplace private to stay as well, not just some tavern. Fixing his own gaze down into the flagon of cider he took another sip, the prospects of what the future holds for him rather grim.


Ayras smirked a little at the talk of no one being safe. It was true enough that the giants could get rowdy if the rabble were riled enough. Ayras, though, held to the belief that it wouldn't get that bad. "Laezila should be fine with Tally. There's that damned vampiric plant in the gardens on the way there. Stupid thing tried to eat me a few times when I lived there. As it is, I'm hoping all this talk is just that: Talk. That it's just the giants airing their grievances and that once they get it out of their systems everything will go back to normal. And if Hildegarde does return, it shouldn't take too long to restore order. I think that's what the giants want most; someone back on the throne."


Linn nodded slightly as Ayras spoke, the mention of the kraken bloom lightening his mood with a chuckle. “Well, when someone gets back on the throne, whoever it is, something’s going to shift. Hopefully it all goes the direction we’re looking for.” Another sigh, “Can only hope at this point. That and put Hildegarde back in the scene to restore things soon as we can.” A long pause followed after he took another sip of his drink. “If you want me to I could see her about Laezila for you. After that lich died I’ve had a lot of time on my hands to work with so it’s not too much of an issue for me.”


Ayras did give Linn a curious look, this time. He recalled his first time seeing Linn and the circumstances surrounding it, as well as the ball-crushing end of that night. "-You'll- see her about it? She actually talks to a guy who tried to kill her?" The vampire rolled his eyes and gave a little chuckle. "That bleeding heart of hers is going to be the death of her. But yes, if you'll see if she'll give Laezila a safe place to stay, it would be appreciated. I'd rather not have one of the giants cause any accidents for the drow. Capable as she is, all a giant has to do is sit on her and she'd be as flat as a pancake, and they've already taken to hassling me when it takes their fancy. I dread thinking what happens when they start with her, if they haven't already."


Linn grinned at the curious look Ayras sent him, suppressing a snort about the apparent paradox that he just set up. “For the record, we aren’t still looking to kill each other. Hell, we still joke about that night when we see each other.” He sighed and shook his head, “That night was *weird*” The next words about Laezila led him to nod in understanding, “Yeah, and they know each other well enough to stay together. It shouldn’t be too much of an issue.” It might actually be a bit of an issue. That cottage was going to be quite crowded at this rate.


Ayras nodded as well, appreciative of what Linn had offered to do. "Yeah, I don't see Talyara turning Laezila away. I'll speak with Laezila when I can, too, to try to get her to brave the world long enough to speak to Tally. Anyways, I must be off. At the rate things are going, if I don't get back to the barracks soon, I won't have a bed. Tell Tally her ex says hello. And try to keep your nose clean. We don't need anyone getting hurt amidst all this turmoil." And with that Ayras finished off his ale and rose to his feet to wander off into the city and back to the fort.