RP:To Meet A Bard
This is a Bard's Guild RP.
Corner of Eternal Forest
The forest here has fewer monsters than the other areas, although there are still far too many for your liking. A single werewolf is said to have killed a mighty hero and his entourage of giants. Needless to say, that would be enough to slay you. To the south the forest becomes sparser, and to the east it continues. Somebody appears to have built a large stone building to the west.
The corpse of a Simurgh is here.
Brennia was dressed in some light leathers while a small group of three other bard's from the Bard's guild on some sort of lesson or demonstration. Other than the height being tall for a woman at six two she lead the attention of anyone around her in a regal sort of way. Usually her tattoos would catch someone's gaze first, but seeing as she is dressed for sparring that is a different story and the only ink one might spot is by her temples and neck. Her long silky black hair was tied up in a high pony tail to keep her vision clear so she may direct at an accurate pace. From a distance one could see the bard telling the others to stay back when they came face to face with a Simurgh right before the two winged creatures set of in a graceful aerial battle which did not last very long; ending in the death of the beast by Brennia's bardic magics. She rejoins the other bards to explain the steps she took and how they could easily apply these tools in their own battles.
York had been exploring for the most part, trying to get a sense of this new terrain, but true to his nature he ran towards the sounds of battle to investigate, no matter how brief. The ranger stood on the tall side for a half-elf, though perhaps that wasn’t saying much. Not much more could be seen of him, obscured by the dull green cloak he wore, obviously meant to blend into the forest surroundings when he wanted. His longbow had been removed from his shoulder but no arrow had been notched, as by the time he arrived on the scene, the creature was dead, and the winged woman obviously had the situation under control. So he stopped short, not sure where to go from here or even if the band of bards had seen him. He’d not been particularly quiet in his approach.
Brennia sensed the ranger, but did not make it obvious to her troupe just yet as this was a perfect opportunity to show them something else. From York's perspective he would see the tall dark avian finish her discussion with them just as she shifted her stance so that her back was to him. She didn't know if he was exceptionally well with hearing, but she put her finger over her lips for them to allow silence and once they did she closed her eyes before motioning them to do the same. In a nearly inaudible whisper she sent out a steady note which acted sort of like sonar. The few bards follow her lead and when she stood out of the way they all opened their eyes to spot the nearly camouflaged ranger. This emitted a small victory squeal from two of the bards among them while Brennia nearly smiles at the stranger with a wave. If he wasn't scared off by now she would leave the few bards to practice on their own before trekking her way to greet the man, "Merry meet, sir!"
York took a moment to replace the bow on his shoulder, thinking that he would at least go and talk to the group, make sure everything was alright after that, and didn’t want to seem threatening and, well, end up like the Simurgh. The high pitched noise was only just audible, but the ranger didn’t seem too bothered by it, maybe a little confused more than anything. He hesitantly waved back at Brennia after a moment, striding forward a bit so he wasn’t so concealed. Strangely, it didn’t seem like he was familiar with that greeting, and after a pause said, “Merry meet,” in return, giving something like a half-bow to her. Clearly, he hadn’t thought he would meet anyone else in the forest, if his somewhat awkward demeanor was anything to go by.
Brennia came close enough the half-elf may now pick up on his favorite scent emitting from the Avain and her brow quirked at his adaptation of her greeting as most don't pick up on the queue usually, "Apologies if I took your target." She glanced to the obliterated heap of Simurgh on the forest floor while that silky alto timbre of her's offer, "If you need the feathers or meat, you are most welcome to have at it." Those large oceanic blue eyes set steadily on the man's face, she had not seen another with a different heritage in quite some time. One of those large onyx wings flicker just slightly, which breaks her stare to inspect the reason and it seems some of her own feathers were twisted. Just as she corrected the pieces she sucked air through her teeth in a tinge of pain, "Ah. Seems it got it's own licks in, huh?" She oddly seemed in good humor about it before she goes on, "Anyway, we were just passing through so I may show them that the power of bard's stretch further than they think."
York caught the scent of lilac and maybe wondered briefly if the woman was wearing perfume, but found no reason to bring it up. “Oh, um, no,” he declined, glancing around her at the dead creature. “I wasn’t hunting it, thank you though. I had just, I had heard fighting. Wanted to make sure everything was okay.” The ranger apparently wasn’t a fan of being scrutinized, as he didn’t meet her gaze in the brief silence that followed. This gave way to concern as he saw she was injured. Grey-blue eyes narrowed at the sight of the twisted feathers, but York never was a healer and figured offering to help would just be useless. So instead he settled for asking, “...Is that going to be alright, ma’am?” in regards to her injury. The half-elf seemed only a bit surprised to hear that she, along with the others who were some ways away, were all bards. He figured that if she took that thing on by herself then, yes, bards must have great power within them. So he didn’t question it, and definitely respected it.
Brennia motioned to the bards over yonder, "No worries there. I'll have one of them heal it to get some practice in." She might be used to pain from the looks of the tattoo covering the majority of her dark skin, she pulled a light leather glove off her right hand to extend it his way, "I am far from a formal ma'am." She offered a playful short chuckle before introducing herself, "You may call me Brennia Smyth or Bree for short... Say! It is always refreshing to meet a new face." A contagious friendly smile was shown down to him in exposing perfect pearly whites, "You are?" Her eyes catches something familiar about him, a glance in passing maybe? Oh! That's right, "Did you attend the Larket Benefit? I think I saw your face there?"
York finally gave a bit of a smile- doesn’t seem like he does that much- and shook her hand, seeming to maybe lighten up a bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Brennia. I’m York.” He didn’t even think to give her his last name, as he wasn’t accustomed to doing so. But, it was nice to meet someone else welcoming, in any case. At the question, he blinked in surprise. “...Yes, I did.” Then it hit him. How could he have not recognized her? /That/ was certainly embarrassing, face reddening slightly, though he supposed the night had been a bit of an uncomfortable, alcohol-tinged blur for him anyway. “Oh! You sang there, right? I remember, you were incredible.” And she also greeted Valen and I at the door, he realized. Where’s my head today?
Brennia seemed flattered at his compliment with a bow of her head, "Thank you, York." She offered sweetly before motioning to be bards once more, "Really couldn't have done it without them. I was able to siphon power from them because, you see, I discovered recently that those with bardic powers are all connected, in a way, through spiri-" there was a sort of childish wonder to the way she was describing something that York didn't even inquire about. She had to cut herself off because even though her discovery was amazing, her gushing about it would be lost on most people. Another soft chuckle would be given, "I do apologize. I got a little carried away there." She has impeccable hearing, possibly just as well as elves and after her awkward pause her eyes narrowed and she whipped her head around to the bards, high pony tail following suit and curling around her. She did not raise her voice for she was able to throw it effortlessly, but the stern tone would send chills, "I hope you know I can hear you and I will be having a discussion with you later - you know who you are." In the distance York would be able to see the few bards separated from whatever they were doing after pricking right up at the sound of her voice. Her tone and expression softened upon York once more, "I do hope you enjoyed yourself that night. If you ever need a day off come up to the Bard's College up in Schezerade." She offers her kind smile once more before bowing shortly to him - fist over heart, "Alas, duty calls. Merry part until we merry meet again, York." She waved before taking off with the members of her guild.
York may have been interested in what she had to say about bardic magic, but she cut herself off a bit soon for him to ask more about it. /Well, perhaps when and if we meet again,/ he thought to himself. “No need to apologize,” he assured her. The ranger watched the proceedings a bit confused as the bard apparently stopped without warning, turned around, and sort of talked in the others' direction. York had decent hearing but definitely hadn’t caught what was said, just giving Brennia a slightly bewildered glance. “I… certainly did enjoy it,” he said. Not exactly a lie but he did dislike parties in general. The Ball hadn’t been the worst experience, surely. “Schezerade?” He was unfamiliar with the place, but nodded regardless, dedicating the name to memory. “I will surely take you up on that offer, Brennia.” Now she was departing, and there was no time to echo her farewell, so long as it was, so he would only call after her that it was nice to meet her, waving to her in turn as she rejoined her friends. He paused for a moment, one last glance at the dead monster on the ground. And then he was gone, vanished back into the trees.