User:Siegfried
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| This page describes a character who is dead or retired from Hollow. |
Name: Siegfried
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Orientation: Straight
Age: 29
Height: 5'10
Marital Status: Single
Home within Lithrydel: For now, he is only a traveler. Making arrangements with a dear friend to house his instruments.
The instruments played by Siegfried:
- Esmerelda, his dark walnut wood and hand crafted cello.
- Chaveah, (pronounced like Kah-Vay-Uh) an ornate flute.
- Brevado, a fretless, nylon stringed acoustic guitar.
(Note: He only carries, the flute with him wherever he goes. The other instruments are only grabbed when he plans on playing them.)
Even though it is rare to hear the man sing, he does carry an almost 4 octave range. "It's the instrument of self," as he calls it and one that will always be worked on.
Musical style
Siegfried has a very unique form of music which he plays. It's style falls within a coined term known as "Gypsy." Generally he plays two very different forms of this style, one is known as Gypsy Rumba, a fast paced music made for dancing. This style carries a serious beat, which naturally increases the urge to dance. The other is very slow, sad and dark, creating an ambiance of tone which helps to portray sorrow. It's a very deep and rich tone which shows the very depth of his tortured soul. Siegfried however, does not sing while playing his cello. In fact he has only been known to sing to private audiences, keeping his voice a secret to much of the public.
A so called story of the past
Although new to these lands of Lithrydel, Siegfried has a dark past of his own, which is often, diluted down through many empty bottles. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not a drunk by any means, nor is he a gambler who succumbs to his vice all too often. No, for there is more to the scared man, with far too many tales to tell in just one sitting. Some might ask where this dark bard obtained his skills, where he learned his craft. To those of which who ask, this tale is told.
“A whistling echoed within my ears, an irritating noise which controlled the very depths of my soul. The ringing played on and on, raking my eardrums like an out of tune harp.” His voice quiet and calm, smooth like the velvet 'pon the underside of his own cloak. “I laid there, within a pool of my own blood, wondering what exactly happened.” A look of bewilderment stretching across his ruggedly handsome features as he spoke. “Before I could calculate any further, a woman of no ordinary grace, happened upon me. She used song to sooth my wretched soul and cease the ache within my body.” The words ended harshly, while his mind lost in thought. Long after the awkward moment in silence, his weight shifted back into the wooden rocking chair. An expression of sadness stretching across his face. “She saved me that night. Saved me from myself.” He added, before he continued his story. “Her voice, was unlike any I had heard before. It was as if a thousand angels blessed her voice, only to cast out their own as a counter balance to the magics.” The memory of her voice practically sent shivers up his spine. “She healed me that evening and taught me a much better path within life. A path which I can be proud of. She did more than heal my wounds, this woman saved my soul.” He finally states, refusing to tell any more of the story, purposefully leaving out -many- of the gory details.
While knowing this story, you may choose to believe it or pass it off as a tale of fallacy. Whichever route you choose, know that Siegfried would surprise most with his upbeat attitude, love of drink and gambling. There are many tales of Siegfried using his flute to cast spells of dance and carefree happiness. Songs which turn even the most green colored, wart covered and stubborn witch into a slave of the beat, dancing freely through the room.