Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Sept 12, 2018 7:52:40 GMT -8
The homely woman appearing from the kitchen had his curiosity arising and he actually laughed when she shooed away the creature in such a manner. The dastardly thing deserved what it received if it was going to tear apart the guests of the home. His laughter had filled the hall in its joy his voice booming in nature and matching his heritage which knew no volume but loud and louder for the most part. He extended a hand towards the woman as she began an introduction replying warmly, “My name is Rutgard, I am apparently the hired protection though I am not allowed to know against what.”
He was not upset in his words as they carried good humor and he even went so far as to compliment her, “You’ve got quite the good aim as well if I might say so Ms. Agatha.”
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Sept 16, 2018 11:37:49 GMT -8
Agatha grinned at Rutgard's enthusiastic laugh. The lines in her face told of decades of smiling, despite her boisterous cursing just a few moments before. She clasped his hand in hers, giving it a firm shake.
"It's good to meet you, Rutgard. I'm not sure what sort of protection we'd need out here, but I suppose a couple extra guards never hurt anyone. It's very odd, they let the other guards go some time ago. Maybe they realized that they made a mistake? Who knows, I try my best not to think too hard about what's going on around here. The less people like you and me know, the better it is for us. Trust me on this. Don't go wondering, or you may find something you'd rather not. And thank you, I have quite a bit of practice."
She pulled another onion from her pocket, bouncing it in her hand for a moment as she scanned the area for any sign of more cats. However, none were found, so she put it back.
"Now tell me, Rutgard. Where are you from? You don't look like a local, I seldom see anyone of your stature around these parts."
As Hester reached out to try and sense some magic, she would feel an icy chill flow through her body. Something was here, something cold. A presence, a great sorrow. A deep sense of betrayal flooded into her mind, then vanished abruptly as the door opened. As quickly as it had come, it was gone. Hester's blade would sense nothing more, and the only other presence in the room was the wide-eyed servant boy. His eyes flew to her sword, and he quickly set down the heavy bucket of steaming water.
"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am. I'll knock next time, I promise."
As she produced a silver coin and tossed it to him, his eyes lit up. He caught it in both hands, gazing at it for a moment before pocketing it hurriedly.
"Thank you, ma'am! Also, Miss Agatha told me to tell you that dinner will be ready in half an hour."
He glanced up at Hester a moment longer before scurrying off, leaving her alone in her room.
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Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Sept 17, 2018 5:17:41 GMT -8
Agatha had a motherly manner about her full figure. Rut could not help but take a liking to her when she spoke with ease and smiled at him creasing the lines around her mouth that showed not only age but a full life. Her enthusiasm for his presence did not go unnoticed and he found himself caring what this woman thought in return. After all she was also making the food and should he expect to be fed a decent meal and not scraps he'd best stay on her good side. As he eyed the hall for the blasted cat and asked him of his origins he would share with her openly, "I hail from a land called Taingaard. A land of myth and legend here it seems."
His longing for home could not be kept from the sweetness in his voice something nostalgic when he spoke, "There are long halls of celebration and gods who give us might when we seek them on the field of battle."
There was no excitement in killing his fellow man but in seeking out a beast who threatened his home he could take pleasure in his work. The challenge of facing a creature with its own set of fangs and claws was always intriguing at best. They needed no weapons aside from their own and though his ax felt like an extension of himself he had at times faced them bare handed. It was only fair in his opinion.
"Do you need help in the kitchen Ms. Agatha? I am ill fit to bide my time doing nothing and if you do not mind the company I would not also mind it."
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Sept 21, 2018 9:04:43 GMT -8
After waiting for several moments Hester quietly placed her pack down next to the bed, then went to make sure the door was shut soundly before making her way to the wash stand.
Troubling... Most troubling. Cold magic, an sorrow... A ghost perhaps? Possible something more sinister but she hadn't felt rage for anger, just a deep sorrow... Scrubbing the dirt from her face and neck her brows knitted in thought.
Ghost sometimes caused illness, perhaps the creature was plaguing the house... A connection with the lord? No there isn't enough to make assumptions on yet... Only that there is magic here, and pain... Best be wary for the time being. Part of her gnawed at the idea of figuring out what exactly was going on, and how to solve it, but a more reasonable voice objected. It wasn't her job, she wasn't getting paid to hunt monsters anymore, she was here to sing and earn some rest, nothing more.
Stripping off her traveling clothing and the hidden chain mail she quickly tossed on a well made Forest green dress. The outfit was respectable bordering prudish. Packing away the mail and blade made her acutely aware of how strange not feeling the weight of plate and mail on her shoulders or the weight of a blade on her hip, though she still had her protections. Once things were tucked away she set about giving her appearance a final once over.
Finally she went about making sure her instrument was fine--- a fickle thing this lyre was despite it's enchantment--- It seemed to enjoy being tuned and polished as much as played. A small cost for the ease of use she supposed, but she couldn't help but feel irritated at the thing... Notes soon echoed quietly down the hall as Hester went about her task, accompanied by a few soft words to help warm her voice
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Sept 30, 2018 16:50:48 GMT -8
Agatha nodded, listening intently to Rutgard's description of his homeland. She had always loved hearing tales of faraway places, although she'd never gone further from home than the next village over. Noticing him glancing around the floor for any signs of troublesome cats, she gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen.
"Sounds like a wonderful place, Rutgard. I wish I could visit someday, but the Creme family keeps me very busy around here. Such a shame, really...but I suppose I can't complain. I've got a roof over my head, hot meals, and a bed to sleep in...that's more than I can say for a lot of people. Most of the staff got let go when the lord's health began to fail, you know. Supposedly to reduce gossip. Of course, that just cause more gossip, about what they were worried about us gossiping about...but I doubt you'd be interested in all that. Come on, if you're as good with a knife as you are with that axe, you can help me out in the kitchen. Shut the door behind you, so that blasted cat doesn't come back inside."
As Hester changed out of her traveling clothes and began practicing, she'd notice the distinct sensation of being watched. However, whenever she glanced around or tried to focus on the sensation, it would vanish. As she sang, the room seemed to grow warmer and the candles burned brighter. After a few moments, she'd hear a soft scratching at the door, and the sudden warmth would vanish. If she opened the door, she'd find a tiny black-and-white cat, which stared at her wide-eyed. It meowed, and immediately ran inside to sit on her pillow.
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Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Oct 5, 2018 6:18:29 GMT -8
Agatha rambled on and Rutgard listened to her rambling rather attentively. It reminded him of a mother going onto her children and the memories of his own brought him to comparing the woman to his own. The resemblance in personality was uncanny if not in look. His mother was never a shield maiden but she ran a house like she had been taught to command men well.
Following her into the kitchen he shut the door as ordered before attending to the tasks she would assign him. He'd helped his mother before and though he was not as skilled with a knife as his axe he could peel potatoes and slice through carrots with some ease which relayed prior experience. Besides he felt comfortable around a blade for even if it cut him it would heal with time and he was no stranger to wounds.
"Yes of course," he had said as he had shut the door originally his amusement clear.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Oct 6, 2018 23:31:41 GMT -8
Spirts or noisy boys... Castles often had hidden peeping spots, for one reason or another, but that did little to ease the bards mind of being watched.... Or at least the sensation of being watched.
She hoped they got an eye full of the various gash wounds and puckered scars that marked her past like land marks on a map. An arrow wound, several clawmarks on her left side, blade wounds long since sown shut, and more...
She made note of the light change from her singing... quiet a fair bit of magic in this place.. hearing the scirtching , Hester did move to the door. " Hello?" She asked, peering out from the crack.
Hearing the swish of the feline darting into the room made The bards face twitch into a sneer... Cats... She was not overly fond of the beast... but they severed their purposes... and while not fond of them she also didn't hate them, If it was just a cat it wouldn't matter if she was kind or cruel to it... but not all cats were cats...
"Why hello there. I suppose I've wandered into your room have I? Fear not , I'll be leaving soon enough and you may resume your normal lounging spot." The bard said to the cat, moving slowly towards to creature with an aloof air. Staying a few feet away at the foot of the bed, Hester causally offered the cat her hand. Weather or not the cat accepted the affection was up to it.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Oct 11, 2018 18:00:56 GMT -8
As Rutgard helped Agatha prepare dinner, he'd find her to be quite the taskmaster, hardly giving him a moment's rest between chores before giving him something else to do. However, she retained her good humor throughout the whole process, making the time fly quickly.
Down in Hester's room, the cat sniffed suspiciously at the bard's hand before retreating and batting at it with a paw. Satisfied that it had sufficiently defended itself from the newcomer, it curled up on her pillow and watched her as she practiced.
---
A short while later, the same errand boy from before came down to Hester's door to fetch her for dinner. He made a point to knock before poking his head in, and escorted Hester to the dining hall. Agatha ushered Rutgard out of the kitchen and into the dining hall as well, insisting that she didn't need any more help setting up and that he "really ought to get out there and say hello to the family". The long table was set for a banquet, with empty plates and polished utensils set up along its entire length. A thin-faced woman with graying hair sat at one of the chairs at the head of the table, the seat beside her noticeably empty. Lait and Sucette sat across from each other near their mother, smiling at the two new arrivals. The rest of the table was devoid of diners, the three occupied seats seeming to only highlight how empty the hall was. The older woman spoke, her voice soft and trembling.
"Why, hello. Welcome, newcomers. I am Lady Creme, lady of the house. My darling children tell me that they've offered you some work, sir, and a place to stay for the night, miss. Please, come sit at this end over here. There's no sense in spreading out, I'm sure you'd get awfully lonely sitting all the way at the other end of the table. I'm afraid my husband won't be able to join us tonight..."
She paused for a moment, staring off into space. Her hands shook for just a moment before she clasped them together and placed them underneath the table, out of sight.
"In any case, I'm sure we'd all love for some food and drink. Agatha!"
Agatha stepped out of the kitchen, bearing a tray containing a roasted goose and several small loaves of bread. The errand boy followed her, carrying a bottle of wine. As Agatha carved the goose, he poured the wine into glasses. After the wine was poured, he closed his eyes and shuffled the glasses around for a moment before handing them out to the family, then Rutgard and Hester. He ran back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a platter of cheeses and baked apples. A cat, unfamiliar to either Rutgard or Hester, followed him out of the kitchen and scratched at his leg, causing him to stumble. As he struggled to catch himself without dropping any of his precious cargo, the cat sauntered its way over to Lady Creme and hopped up onto her lap, eliciting a doting coo.
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Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Oct 14, 2018 5:39:21 GMT -8
His short time with Agatha had been enjoyable. Like a hen mother her plucking and bawking at him was something he missed from the ladies at home. When he’d return he’d often help them just to catch up on all of the news and perhaps some of the gossip that had been going around. Not that any of it was true but they enjoyed speaking on it anyways. When he was finally shooed off he took it good natured in his way and went to the main dining room. The family was already seated taking away some formality of his arrival but he still nodded to the siblings and to the lady of the house he would say, “My condolences.”
He wasn’t generally a man of a lot of words nor was he cordial. Offering her the same greeting he did his Tain would have been inappropriate and he did not view her as caring of the specific nature in which he addressed her unless it was anything less than kind. Which he did not stray from as he took his seat pulling the chair out and sliding it in once seated with a long draw.
“Yes, Lady.”
Not insulting he spoke in the way he would to a lord, giving her his respect in the word. Watching the servant boy as he entered Rut had a way of paying attention to two things at once. Mainly through the corner of his eyes. Finding it suspicious that he switched the wine goblets around so oddly he would stop Agatha if only for a second and ask for a glass of water if possible.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Oct 21, 2018 17:27:31 GMT -8
Following the young man to the dining room Hester glanced about the hallway to catch anything noteworthy--- things perhaps to keep in mind for later--- Her fingers traced the oak tree embossed on her instrument’s case, not a nervous tick per say, but something she did when the gears in her mind were turning. Something was here…
Lady creme’s introduction was mared by the tremble and the odd manner which she had hid her hands… The daughter had said something of an illness…
Hester offered a low curtsy, dipping her head to the lady of the house. “ I can only thank you and offer my services for the hospitality you and your staff have shown me Lady Creme. If It pleases I would play for you and your staff before eating.” Hester eyes glanced up at Lady Creme to catch any hint of irritation or approval. Courtly things were never her strong suit but Tam had said she was good at “Dar’mahn-sue”... After she had translated the meaning he’d received quite a bruise.
The man sitting at the table brought Regal to mind--- though exactly why she could not put her finger on at the moment-- as her attention was stolen by the boy tripping over a cat and how lady creme treated the lad as opposed to the cat.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Nov 20, 2018 19:17:57 GMT -8
Neither the lady of the house nor either of her children seemed very concerned with the lad's struggles as he regained his balance and placed the massive platter down on the table with a heavy clunk. As Rutgard offered his condolences, Lady Creme frowned at him, hesitating for a moment before continuing to stroke the cat.
"Condolences? I'm sure I don't know what you mean. My husband...simply isn't very hungry, that's all. There's nothing to worry about. Go ahead, Miss, er, Fairweather. Some music would be lovely. It gets so dreary here, with such an empty dining hall..."
And indeed, the vast dining hall seemed even emptier once Hester stood up from her seat. Once again, anybody paying attention would feel a sudden chill in the air, despite the fire in the hearth at the end of the room. The cat in Lady Creme's lap sat upright and hissed, but she murmured softly and stroked its head until it calmed down. Once the cat stopped fussing, she offered the bard a rather weak smile, nodding for her to begin. Meanwhile, as Agatha brought Rutgard some water, Succette addressed him.
"So, Mr. Isenhall. What is it that you do, exactly? When you're not working security for castles,that is. I can't imagine that could be your full-time occupation."
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Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Nov 22, 2018 17:30:03 GMT -8
“My mistake then,” the family was as mysterious as they were strange in approach but he had no course other than to apologize, though the did not do so outright. The other guest of the table caught his eye when she entered behind the lad. A bard of sorts she was a beautiful woman if nothing else and if her voice matched he had no doubt he’d be entranced for a short while. He enjoyed that sort of distraction from the harshness of the world that was around them.
The chill settling in along his bones set him on edge. A warning that the cat felt as its hair raised on the back of its neck and it began to hiss. He was calmed by the woman who held him but the instincts of animals were far sharper than humans were and it gave him some curiosity as to the situation he placed himself in. His attention shifted to the cat and then to Agatha who delivered his glass of water. A clear head was better for one who was expected to keep their wits about them.
Drawn back to the Lady of the house by her questioning he felt he could answer this without bringing about some sort of backlash from misunderstanding, “Settling down long enough in order to do so would be unreasonable. I serve my Tain in my homeland. I have been given leave to complete a journey of my own design for the moment but I will have to return.”
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Dec 1, 2018 21:43:39 GMT -8
Hester did not miss the rough man miss-step and would not mimic it.
"Yes Lady Creme. As you wish." She said, curtsying deeply before opening her self to the musical instrument in her hands...
Always an odd feeling, letting the Lyre dictate her hands as it would.
The lyre called upon a simple tune, the pitter of rain amongst a canopy.
The song was not sad, nor particularly joyful, it called forth a sense ease of one sitting in their tent, watching the river nearby rise while enjoying one's pipe. The stew quietly simmering away, the occasional hiss of the fire...
Hester's vocals were not in common, by some other langue the Lyre demanded, it had a gentleness to it, with rolling syllables that promised warmth, and peace...
So was the scene before Hester's closed eyes. A rough man at his camp, peace gracing his otherwise weathered face... A peace he'd been missing for such a long time. Taken from him again and again, by war or by fate it could note have been said, but he carried no sword now, nor bow, narry a weapon was near him... For where he walked there were no need for such things any longer---
Hester damned the lyre... It seemed Hester had focused to much on the absence of the husband...
With any luck the old woman would not be able to understand the word she'd just spoken. And simply enjoy the otherwise pleasant song she was singing.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Dec 22, 2018 19:38:43 GMT -8
Lady Creme nodded at Rutgard's explanation, petting the cat. The cat would fuss for a few seconds before hopping off her lap and stalking out of the room, clearly unsatisfied by her attempts to placate it. A few moments later, the warmth returned to the hall, filling it with a cheery, pleasant mood. None of the Cremes seemed to have noticed the momentary chill, or were ignoring it if they had.
"A tain," mused Lady Creme. "I suppose that's like a lord of some sort? That's all very interesting. What sort of journey are you on? A journey to go somewhere, or do something, or find someone? Journeys are all very interesting, although I never got around to doing any myself. Perhaps one day I shall have my husband take me somewhere warm and nice, on a journey of our own."
Lait and Sucette glanced at each other, but said nothing. After an awkward pause, Sucette took advantage of a break between songs to turn to Hester, taking a long sip from her wine before speaking.
"That sounded lovely, Miss Fairweather. Not like anything else I've ever heard. Where is that song from? Something you've heard from your travels, I'll bet...I can't imagine all the things you've seen."
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Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
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Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Dec 31, 2018 13:37:14 GMT -8
Rutgard was well traveled but not well spoken, when Hester began to sing he was unable to interpret the lyrics themselves but he was drawn in by the tone of her voice. It was lovely to listen to as she ached before them having started out so distant with the words until she was lost, it almost caught him off guard that he was expected to reply to the lady as well. He found it almost insulting when a woman who was so mesmerizing was playing that he should be expected to turn his attention away, but the lady speaking was who was offering him pay and he could not offer insult in return. Not that he had prevented it already.
"He is akin to a lord here, Lady," there was no issue in expressing the likeness to their own earls and such, "He holds land and commands men and ships and is highly regarded as is his right."
The second asking of hers was slightly more personal but he would answer it none-the-less,"Really none of those, it is more of going for the sake of going. It is a journey of self discovery really."
As Hester finished the Lady's attention had turned and he could avoid her iron gaze but he did not yet compliment the bard. It could wait until he could more personally pay her one that would be more handsome than what he could produce now.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Jan 28, 2019 2:36:15 GMT -8
It was always an awkward feeling--- Being let go by whatever force drove the instrument--- drove her the way it did... But one you could get used to.
Hester thought a moment but shook her head. " A friend taught me it, when I was first learning to sing. I wish I could re-create the awe she brought out in a room, but alas for some things to be so great, others must be mundane.", She mused, " Might I ask for some simple water Lady Creme? I've found sours what little voice I have." The bard requested, and while it wasn't actually a lie, it was a rather convenient truth at the moment.
Hester's gaze shifted to the rough man now getting a better look at him. He screamed of practicality over finery, though that held its own refinement in Hester's eye. She shifted her gaze back to Lady Creme as to not to stare. "If it pleases, I've several others akin to it.", She offered.
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