A Sickly Singer

A vain and arrogant bard is brought low by some mysterious illness

Fellsgard is the foundation of Khy'eras' history and through reconstruction, it is now a vibrant and lively city. People reside here due to mild climate, opportunities, and safety and stability. Adventures often start from Fellsgard. Read more...
Post Reply
User avatar
Raen Silver
Character
Almá/Bard
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
17 / 17 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Kerasoka
Class: Bard
Posts: 48
Joined: October 18th, 2019, 10:05 pm
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 3 times

A Sickly Singer

Post by Raen Silver »

“You’re sick.” Elara said, glancing up from her heavy book.

”Sick?!" Raen groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. ”That is an understatement, Quimellë. I am dying, is what I am!"

Elára did not look up. “Your penchant for the dramatic never ceases to amaze me. Go see a healer, since we don’t have one in residence at the moment. And keep your hands off my bar; we don’t want whatever it is you have being passed around paying customers.”

With another self pitying groan, Raen stood. ”I feel so nurtured ….” He closed his mouth as the Elven woman gave him a hard look. ”I’m going, I’m going!”

***

Though the day wasn’t particularly cold, Raen was wearing quite a few layers, including a scarf wrapped around his mouth and a woollen hat. Usually, the Elf was very ‘liberal’ in terms of clothing; but today the silver tongued Bard of the White Hart was miserable and grumpy. Raen was beautiful, even by Elven standards. He had no skill in fighting, so his singing and his looks got him by. Now he had a horrible rash on his face, and by the way he was acting, one might think the world was ending.

As an Elf, he should have the fortitude of an ox … a dozen of them! So it when he had awoken the day before, covered in sweat, a strange rash on his stomach, back, and his face (which wounded his vanity greatly), a fever, and a long, horrible bout of vomiting, the ever cheerful Elf had been reduced to a groaning, grumpy character that no one wanted to be around. That was probably worse than how he was feeling! He rarely slept, ate or drank alone, and now the others treated him like he was carrying a plague.

As he made his weary way through the city, following the instructions given to him, he complained to himself about his ill-fortune; they finally had a proper healer in-house. She might have been Human, and a Witch on top of that. But she had known her stuff. Now, no one knew where Katarya had gotten to, and he could only guess at what the woman had done that no one was looking for her, and were barely even saying her name. It was like she had never been part of their family. Only Raya spoke of her fondly, and even then in hushed tones, away from the senior Kelbé members.

”’The Grace of Cecilia's Healer's Hall’” He said, aloud. Looking at the building, he wondered how they would go about treating him. He didn’t know of any Elves who practised here. He had been assured that they didn’t turn people away (and going to a hospital run by House Enlann was out of the question), and so he pushed through the doors and stepped inside.

***

”My name is Raen Silver, and I am sick … which I suppose is obvious or else I wouldn’t be here.” He said, to the first person he could find. ”I wonder if I might see a healer? He also wondered if Elves were even truly welcomed here. ”Please.”
Word count: 533
Image

"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."

User avatar
Calem Sabathe
Character
Khy'eras' Okayest Doctor
Level
02
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Posts: 44
Joined: January 19th, 2020, 10:46 pm
Has thanked: 1 time
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Calem Sabathe »

It had been a busy day today at The Grace of Cecilia's Healer's Hall - the amount of people that had come through had been higher than usual. It looked like some kind of sickness had been sweeping through the populace. While it didn't seem to be a deadly one, it was enough that many of the healer's halls in Fellsgard had been swamped with several people, and it was requiring every doctor in the area be on deck.

As one of the newer receptionist staff, June had been desperately trying to keep up with the rest of the staff, but with the huge workload it had been a nightmare. It was bad enough that this was her first job, and she'd only been working here for a month at most, and this was the first time that she'd had to deal with the overload of work that seemed to be flooding the area. She'd been keeping up with the work at this point, but it was getting harder and harder to deal with everyone, and unlike the rest of the staff whom she swore were some kind of administrative machines, she was only human...

So when she heard a voice behind her out of the blue, it shocked her enough that she dropped the papers she'd been carrying over the floor. "Aahhhhhhh!!" she almost screamed, but managed to cup her mouth before it got too loud. A few of the older nurses looked at her, sighed, and then got back to work as she desperately tried to start picking up all the pieces of paper. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just a moment...!" she called out, not turning to face the customer as she desperately tried to pick up all the papers that had fallen all over. "Oh no, oh no, this is going to take hours to sort out..."

With the papers picked up - but still horribly out of order - she turned to face the new member...and her woes seemed to be instantly forgotten. "Oh, good afternoon! Welcome to The Goodness...I mean The Grace of Cedar--I mean, Cecilia! The Grace of Cecilia's Healer's Hall!" She stuttered, as she looked at him. She had to admit, the rash did not look pleasant, but there was a sudden glint in her eyes. "I mean, the rash sucks, but underneath that he's got to be like a 9, if not a 10...he would be so hot if it weren't for this stupid sickness." she pouted - and then a few seconds passed before she suddenly realised she'd said that out loud.

"A-a-anyway, you're looking for a healer? I mean, we're quite booked in, but..." June looked down at her papers. Now granted, there had been an order, but it was going to take a while for it all to be re-sorted and if she spent half an hour sorting papers out in the reception she was going to be fired for sure. "Um...look, can you promise not to tell my boss about this? I'll get you in right away! Um..." June quickly glanced down at the papers. "Y-yes! Doctor Sabathe should be available right about now, his room is just down the hall! He'll call in the next patient, just go on in! Go, gogogogogo!" She said, pointing frantically down the hall and all but literally pushing the elf down the hall.

---

In the meanwhile, Calem Sabathe was busy watering his plants. "Ahhh, good to see you're still doing as lovely as ever." It was one of the few moments he had in between sorting out the sickness affecting the city. From the look of things, it would pass, but people were going to have an uncomfortable couple of weeks or so. At least he hoped so - there hadn't been any major cases yet, but this had sprung up a bit by surprise. It seemed a little early for the usual case of cold. Calem had managed to avoid getting the sickness himself so far - whatever people suspected, washing one's hands went a long way - so he'd been one of the doctors who were working relentlessly in order to keep working on this around the clock.

He'd only really had to use the common herbs so far, which made things easier but he had to admit his stock was being whittled down. Recovering from this was going to take a lot of money and time. He might have had the first, but he wasn't sure about the latter. But since he'd been growing his own for a long time and making medicines from those, he was doing better than many expected. Despite everything, it was a slight boost to his ego that he was more prepared for something like this than most in Fellsgard.

With his plants finally watered and his hands washed, Calem strapped on a face mask, opened the door and looked out into the hall. "Next patient, please?"
Word count: 827

User avatar
Raen Silver
Character
Almá/Bard
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
17 / 17 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Kerasoka
Class: Bard
Posts: 48
Joined: October 18th, 2019, 10:05 pm
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 3 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Raen Silver »

"Thank you." He mumbled.

Usually, the Elven Bard would have spent a good while flirting with this woman, who still seemed to have a twinkle in her eye when she saw him, as sickly as he was. Maybe if he removed his scarf and showed her the hideous rash that covered half of his cheek and chin, she might have thought differently.

But Raen was in a state of distress! What if the rash never went away? What if he the treatment left him scarred? His face, his smile, his eyes ... they were the things that got him by, they filled his cup with copper and silver, and his bed with warm bodies on a night. The thought of losing that was enough to bring a tear to his eye as he walked down the corridor, as instructed.

When he arrived at the office, there were a few people milling around, but the nurse had told him to go right in. He didn't feel too guilty as he quickly pushed open the door, shooting forward to cut off a woman who was getting to her feet. She looked fine anyway. Those gasps were probably because she was a little ... tired! Nothing serious.

In he went.

Stepping through the door and quickly closing it behind him, Raen turned to meet the gaze of Doctor Sabathe. To be honest, he was expecting someone older. This man seemed like he must have walked out of whatever place trained him just a day ago! But, Raen had a weakness for red-heads, and the thought of him looking like he did forever.

"You must be Doctor Sabathe! My name is Raen Silver of the the Il Fana Kelbé ... the White Hart tavern and inn. I'm the in house bard and ..." He took a long breath, removing the scarf from his face and revealing a bumpy, livid red rash covering half his cheek and chin. Sweat glistened on his forehead, he was breathing heavily and was very pale. "You have to help me! My face!" He bemoaned. "My beautiful face! Without it, I am ruined!" He put a hand out and gripped a nearby chair as he suddenly felt very dizzy. His beautiful face looked up, with a sort of delirious smile. "You know, you really are quite handsome. If you want to examine me you can ... oh ..." His legs suddenly felt weird. ""Nambá""{damn} he said in Elvish, with a slurring tone.

Then he crumpled to the floor and his world turned black.
Word count: 418
Image

"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."

User avatar
Calem Sabathe
Character
Khy'eras' Okayest Doctor
Level
02
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Posts: 44
Joined: January 19th, 2020, 10:46 pm
Has thanked: 1 time
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Calem Sabathe »

Being a doctor was typically less exciting than one would have led on. There were people that expected that doctors were standing like heroes in a field of war, grim looks on their faces as they performed life-or-death decisions that would change the fate of people, performing one-in-a-million treatments that Might Just Work.

In reality, Calem found he was typically dealing with little more than average fevers and sicknesses that could be quite readily treated. It wasn't as glamarous as some might have believed from the stories that the bards spread in their tales, but every little bit making someone feel a bit better and help them live a little longer made him feel just a bit better about his day, and made him feel everything had been worth it.

Of course, there was the odd instance where someone reacted as though it was a life-or-death situation, and there were fewer times that was the case than when a young Kerasokan elf burst through his door with panic written across his face, babbling about his face being ruined. It was a pretty bad rash across his face to be fair, but Calem could barely get a word in edgeways. "A-alright, sir, please take a seat and--" he started, before the elf went pale, slurred something he didn't understand, and fainted.

"By the Idols...!" Calem muttered, as he bent down to the floor and laid Raen straight out on the floor. Calem knelt down, unbuttoning his shirt and opening it up - the rash was also on his stomach, and rolling Raen onto his side for a moment, he could see the rash was on the back as well. "Mmmm, it's more aggressive than I expected..." Looking over them, there were blisters - some of them had turned yellow. "...hmmm...if that's what I think it is..." The doctor turned to his table, taking a pillow and placing it under Raen's head, then turning to the cupboard and taking one of the many books down and looking through the details. "...yes, similar symptoms...hmm. He may not like this." the doctor muttered. "...I will need him awake though. Where is that bittertear oil...?" Calem rummaged through his supplies until he found the small bottle of dark purple liquid - made from the bittertear leaf, he uncorked it and the bitterly strong smell nearly overwhelmed him. 'Even after all this time...'

Calem walked over to him, waving the strong-smelling oil bottle underneath Raen's face. If this smell didn't wake him up, he wasn't sure what would. "Master Raen? Master Raen, please wake up!" he called out to the unconscious patient. He was hoping the nasal and aural stimulation together would at least bring him back around.
Word count: 455

User avatar
Raen Silver
Character
Almá/Bard
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
17 / 17 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Kerasoka
Class: Bard
Posts: 48
Joined: October 18th, 2019, 10:05 pm
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 3 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Raen Silver »

With his eyes opening a little, then taking a deeper breath of the very odorous liquid, they snapped away and he groaned. "By the stars, man! What on earth is that?!" The Elf rubbed his head and sat up, for a moment he looked a little confused, and then remembered why he was here.

"My face!" He said, dramatically, grabbing the doctor's arm. "Please tell me you can fix my face! Without it I'll have no livelihood, no customers, no nice warm bodies in my bed on an eve! This is extremely important. Whatever the rate to fix it, I will pay it."

Raen pulled himself to his feet, his hand tentatively touching at his cheek. The rash was even obscuring some of the intricate tattoos on his face. He looked to the doctor. "Also, please just call me Raen. 'Master Raen' makes me sound terribly old." He took a deep breath. "Tell me the absolute truth .. unless it's bad news then lie to me and I shall go and drink myself to death, lamenting the best thing I had going for me; being absolutely gorgeous."

Though the way he spoke, he might be thought of as arrogant. But his tone suggested nothing mean, or that he would put others down. In fact: "I suppose if I am to die so young, then I shall have been treated to the sight of such a handsome doctor. If you can help me, you'll never have to pay for a drink at the White Hart again, I shall see to it. And I will compose a ballad just for you: 'The Miraculous Hands of Doctor Sabathe; the Greatest Healer in the Land!" He gave a grin, despite his earlier complaining. "How's that sound?"
Word count: 291
Image

"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."

User avatar
Calem Sabathe
Character
Khy'eras' Okayest Doctor
Level
02
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Posts: 44
Joined: January 19th, 2020, 10:46 pm
Has thanked: 1 time
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Calem Sabathe »

Calem smiled. "Ah, good, you're still alive! That makes things far easier." Calem replied, as he got back to his feet. "Ah, the bittertear oil? It's made from a type of flower in the Slyscera Mountains, so I'm told. One of the few flowers that grows there, mainly because the smell is strong enough that no fauna wants to touch it. It's one of the best things I have for patients waking up." Calem corked the bottle - any longer and the room would start to smell. "Though I once had a patient who swallowed some once...apparently he couldn't go home to his wife for a week due to halitosis. You should probably avoid that." Calem mused, before turning back to the young elf, whom in a second clutched on to his arm, continuing to babble about his face.

He was excitable, true, but it wasn't the first time Calem had met a patient who flew into a panic. Calem quietly listened, nodding as the poor elf kept talking, seemingly unable to stop. Had the patient gone into some kind of shock? "Yes, Ma--Raen, I understand. It will be alright, I assure you. Please, just take a seat here for me..." Calem carefully guided the young elf to the chair, wrapping his arm around his waist to help maneuver the elf into the chair.

The elf looked up at him, begging him for assistance. "Well, alas, House Enlann will get me in trouble if I just lie. You'd be surprised how carefully they make sure doctors around here don't start giving false platitudes to their patients." Actually, they didn't that much, but if they did get caught it would usually spell reprimand. Besides, Calem didn't like lying to a patient anyway. He was a doctor, not a story-teller.

Calem smiled. The elf may have been talking rapidly, but he didn't seem to get a bad feeling from him. Perhaps a bit egocentric, but after all - in Calem's opinion confidence was never a bad thing. Deep down, he admitted he was even a little jealous. He wished he had confidence like this young elf. Though as the elf promised to make a ballad for him, Calem couldn't help but blush a little. "Oh my!" Calem exclaimed. "Why...t-thank you, Raen! Though I don't really believe I'm that handsome...just a silly little doctor I suppose, haha." Calem laughed a little awkwardly, scratching his head. "But I don't believe I will need to help you too much, so you will have many wonderful ballads to write yet! The good news is that your condition is neither fatal nor contagious. It is a common ailment most people know as yellow-scale. For the most part it usually happens before reaching adulthood, though there have been cases of adults getting it as well. There is usually an onset of fever..." Calem touched Raen's head with the back of his hand. "Yes, I imagine you have a slight fever, Raen?" Calem walked over to a cupboard, pulling out a small face towel, soaking it with cold water and wringing it out before leaving the damp towel on Raen's forehead, gently mopping his forehead to cool him down. "Followed by the rash, which...I will admit, yours has spread a little further than expected, but I can assure you that it will fade away."

Calem sighed after that. 'This is going to be the hard part...' Calem mused as he put on his spectacles. "The bad news is that while it will fade away, the only thing that will truly work is to give your body time to fend off the illness, and that will likely be..." Calem gently took Raen's chin in his hand and turned his face away to see the rash. "Actually, it's surprising that the blisters are already yellowing! You must have a very strong constitution, sir! I wish I was as hardy as you are." Calem nodded. "I would imagine with such, the fever will pass in a few days, and the rash should disappear entirely from your face within about...two, at absolute worst three weeks."

Calem took his glasses off, walking towards his medicine cupboard, and pulling out a small vial of white powder. "Here we are!" Calem walked back over to Raen. "I should warn, this will sting a little bit, but it should at least take away a little bit of the pain of the blistering and help prevent any further rash." Dusting his fingers with the powder, Calem carefully brushed the powders over the areas covered in rash. His fingertips gently brushed down along Raen's cheek, down his chin and over his neck, and along his stomach, gently leaving a slight white dusting across his body. The sting would probably be no more than a few seconds. "When you're ready, Raen, could you please roll over so I can apply this to your back as well?"
Word count: 822

User avatar
Raen Silver
Character
Almá/Bard
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
17 / 17 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Kerasoka
Class: Bard
Posts: 48
Joined: October 18th, 2019, 10:05 pm
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 3 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Raen Silver »

Raen was relieved when Calem put the foul smelling liquid away. Grimacing a little. "I couldn't live with bad breath and a hideous face! I'd never work again? Well ... perhaps in a freak show." He complained.

The young Elf allowed himself to be guided to a chair. It felt good to have someone take care of him; Elára was hardly the most maternal figure in the world, and the only person who might have been kind to him was Dáire (if he hadn't left), or possibly Kat (if she hadn't ran off). He gave the doctor a smile of 'thanks' as he sat down.

"As a performer, it is almost my bound duty to lie! To spin yarns! To tell fantastical stories, and to romance the very clothes off a person's back! But I am glad you are going to be truthful with me, I just hope beyond hope that the truth will be less horrific than the tragedy that is my face!" In all his ramblings about his illness, he had not once expressed any concern about a threat to his life. Just about how his face would turn out! Though he did sound very serious when he added: "You are not 'just a silly doctor'! I shan't hear you say that again and wound my heart, so! You are kind and compassionate, qualities which many lack, sadly. In nothing do men or women approach the greatness of gods and idols, than the giving of health to others." He said, in a tone with no frivolity attached to it at all. "My songs amuse and delight - I am, without a doubt, talented, you see. But you!" He nodded his head. "Save people. That is more worthy of song than any beast slaying warrior or pouting princess."

When Calem gave him the diagnosis of having 'Yellow Fever', Raen pulled a face. "I never liked the colour, and now it seems to want revenge." He looked up as the doctor felt his forehead (Calem was right, Raen's skin was hot to touch). When he assured the young Elf that it would 'fade away', Raen gave a sigh of relief. Then his expression turned to one of horror. "Three weeks?" He exclaimed, as if he had just been told he was about to die that instant. "Three weeks looking like this? You know what this means don't you? Three weeks of sleeping alone! I have not slept alone for three weeks since the day I realised I could sweet talk a Fae princess between the sheets if I wished ... and I was barely out of of childhood!" He made a groaning noise and let his head fall back, looking very miserable. "Alas, but a flower must endure a winter if he is to blossom in the spring once more. So it must be. I appreciate your candour, doctor."

He watched as the human man fetched some medicine, and then got ready for the pain when it was applied. A sharp intake of breath as it was put to the affected skin escaped Raen's lips but, true to form, the Elf kept his eyes on the doctor. Raen Silver was never one to shy away from contact, intimacy, or such; it was as natural to him as breathing, and though it stung, the actual act of the doctor gently applying the medicine was met with a smile of 'thanks'.

"Of course." The bard said, at the doctor's request. He stood and turned around, putting his hands on the chair's top to grip when Calem was ready to apply it. Raen tried to distract himself. "I don't recall seeing you before, so I will assume you have never visited my home, workplace, and the finest tavern in Fellsguard - The White Hart? You are also very young, even for a human, to be such an accomplished healer - and I mean that as a compliment, as I am often considered 'too young' to be an actual bard! Many don't realise you don't have to be ancient to be gifted, don't you agree?" His hands gripped the chair when Calem began applying the medicine. "Stars in the sky and all the sapphires in the sea, that stings! Distract me, I beg of you! Tell me about yourself! How does a handsome human of your age end up so skilled in your arts? Are you a natural talent, or a book-worm! My money is on a mixture of both. You must have very proud parents." For someone who might appear self-absorbed and vain, Raen questions and compliments were never empty. He found beauty, spirit and love wherever he looked (even if it was when he was looking in a mirror), and was not not shy to tell others if he thought well of them.
Word count: 801
Image

"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."

User avatar
Calem Sabathe
Character
Khy'eras' Okayest Doctor
Level
02
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Posts: 44
Joined: January 19th, 2020, 10:46 pm
Has thanked: 1 time
Been thanked: 7 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Calem Sabathe »

Calem found it a bit surprising to hear Raen being so candid about his life and his romances, but then, perhaps that was the life of a bard - taking each day to the fullest. And all the stories he must have had to tell for it!

He couldn't help but blush as Raen passionately encouraged him. "T-thank you, Raen. It's--I've just always been a bit... Well, I'm no famous adventurer like must be in all your stories. I've just always enjoyed helping people, that's all. I'm happy in just the small ways I can do that. Though sometimes..." Calem allowed himself just a little whimsy, remembering the tales he read as a child of the brave knights of old, the ones from before the mists came to Khy'eras, when Pheriss still protected the oceans. As silly and childish as it was, every so often he liked to dream he could be one of those knights, saving some princess from the clutches of some terrible Nihegora-esque demon. "Well, sometimes I do have a soft spot for the more romantic stories."

Still, he had to remain professional for now. There would be a time for such dreams another day. For now, he had to take care of Raen, who was - well, to say disappointed was an understatement. If anything, he looked as if Calem had said he would be dead tomorrow. "In all honesty, I would only say it would affect you two weeks, as long as you try to avoid seriously exerting yourself. Though I don't think simply telling stories alone would be a problem if you so wished." Calem explained, as he dashed the white powder across his hands again. "And...The White Hart, was it? I'm sorry, but... well, I'm sure it's a lovely place, I just don't tend to go to taverns much and I don't think I ever went to that one. It's not that I don't enjoy listening to the wonderful tales a bard can spin, but...well, I don't really have many people to visit a tavern with. But I'd like to hear more of your stories sometime, if you'll have me visit someday!"

Though it was nice to be complimented on his skills. "Oh...well, I've been studying healing for a long time. The healers at the archaicist chantry taught me." Calem sighed. "I always loved reading books, but the priests told me that I did have a certain inclination towards it. I guess I always liked reading as a child." That was an understatement - if anything, Father Blackwell had told him off countless amounts of times for having his head constantly stuck in a book, either learning or fantasising. "But I suppose Father Blackwell was proud of me. I hope he is - he taught me near everything I know, especially about plants - ahh, growing plants is one of my hobbies. He always taught me to grow my own herbs and find my own solutions, rather than rely solely on House Enlann." Calem looked up at the pot-plant on the window-sill, where a large orange flower was drinking in the sunlight.

There was a sudden pause before Calem realised he'd missed something. "Oh...you mean my actual parents? I don't know who they are. I was found abandoned on the steps of the chantry when I was a baby, so I'm told." There were few people Calem mentioned it to, but if anything nobody really asked. "Ah, but I don't mind, really! I was raised as kindly by the priests as any parent possibly could have, blood or otherwise!" The people who Calem told that to always seemed to think his parents were monsters, but Calem was never really sure about that. Maybe there had been a reason they'd abandoned him, maybe there hadn't - but it didn't stop Calem being himself, and that was, to him, the most important thing.
Word count: 652

User avatar
Raen Silver
Character
Almá/Bard
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
17 / 17 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 50c
Race: Kerasoka
Class: Bard
Posts: 48
Joined: October 18th, 2019, 10:05 pm
Has thanked: 5 times
Been thanked: 3 times

Re: A Sickly Singer

Post by Raen Silver »

It was almost as if he had completely forgotten his affliction, when he smiled in delight. "Of course you may visit!" he said, his voice full of enthusiasm. And then, his smile faltered a little as if he suddenly remembered his condition. "If your time allows, then why don't you come visit some time during the day, we open at 11am, so anytime before 2pm when there are less people around. I don't think the Quimelle will want me to perform in this state! I am likely to drive customers away! But I am sure I can give a few hours of my time to entertain a new friend."

Raen rose to his feet, stretching.. "So, it appears I am bound to celibacy for the next three weeks..." he gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, I have been working on a few things. Perhaps now is the time to finish them. I am quite sure my fellow Elves would appreciate a little fresh material! And I can spin a tale out of a speck of dust, good doctor! If you wish to hear of adventure, unbridled lust, ancient enmity, and fiery passion, then I promise to deliver."

The vain, handsome young Elf began re-wrapping his face in a the scarf, sounding more upbeat in his voice (even at the prospect of warming his bed solo for the next three weeks), and at last handed over a small purse of coin. "A donation for the Hall." He explained. "And when you visit the Kelbé," he used the Elvish word for 'Hart'. "Be sure to tell whomever it is you meet that I invited you. That way they won't get all irritatingly Elven when a Human they don't know walks through the door! Honestly, the older these folk get, the more stubborn they become."

He gave a bow of his head, his eyes tinkling from his scarf wrapped face, looking spry and energetic, as if he hadn't just swooned like a delicate maid. "Fare the well, Calem the Doctor! My your Cecilia keep you and yours. Be well and be beautiful."

And with that, Raen the Bard of the I'l Fana Kelbé turned and left in a rather dramatic swirl of his hooded cloak.
Word count: 371
Image

"There is no greater gift than that of verse well given."

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests