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[Ooc: excellent use of cantrips, I must say.]

When Mira appears downstairs and heads for the fireplace with her lute, the crowd quiets down a little bit in expectation. Some tight lipped glances at her attire and a few smiles and nudges from some of the men folk followed her as she approached the stage.

The magically conjured sounds of the ocean caused quite a few surprised looks around the room including the innkeeper, whose jaw hangs briefly open in astonishment. The language barrier seemed to matter not at all as she began the tune. She was practiced at gauging audiences during her performance, and she could tell there was an appreciation for her work; if somewhat reluctant to begin with.

The passionate skill of her music filled the place to the walls, and the words entranced no few occupant as only lyrics of a foreign language could. The music flowed from her and her heart began to race a little with the exhilaration of performance and the anxiousness of being in a strange land. As her song ended in her head lowered there was little sound to be heard in the inn. A man clapping broke spell of silence and many more people quickly joined him. Replies with genuine and most of the patrons seemed quite impressed and surprised.

Her adrenaline high from the last performance Mira begins a quick temper number in the style of the gypsies who led her here. A little conversation resumed and people went about their meals or drinks while others moved in their seats with the music, tapping toes or fingers or the like. Have there been room to dance with the substantial crowd, she felt they would have. A tip jar was placed on one corner of the stage for her by the servers. No sooner was it down been in several patrons got up to make a contribution.

She played for about an hour, during which time a jug of water and a cup were brought out and placed on a stool on the stage. A glass of wine, which apparently one of the locals had sent for her, came out too.

The bartender got her attention from across the room and pantomimed eating supposedly to indicate that her food was ready for her.

[Ooc: you can choose whether or not to go back and play more after eating, but the crowd will probably be a little disappointed if you don't do at least one more song after the initial hour. You can indicate how much longer she would like to play in hours, and the amount of tips she earns depends on how long she plays up to a point. I'll tally up her tips after all that.

If you would also include anything else she intends to do tonight and what her plans might be for tomorrow we can move this along a little bit more if you perfer.]

(That post took over an hour to write, something youd never be able to do on tabletop! Will post in a bit, perhaps a little Donne is in order...?)

Taking a deep breath Mira steps down from her stool and takes a quick sip of the water, playing like that took a lot out of her, still seeing the looks she was getting made it all worthwhile.

Moving to collect her food glass of wine in hand she eats in silence, a self satisfied look on her face, music was universal, that was one of her first lessons, after all couldn't music tame a savage beast?

So they liked that, perhaps something else might work too?

Jumping up to the stage holding tight on her lute she steps back up to the stage and attempts to conjure some simple stars from the sky (Fails). The magic didn't always work, she wasn't surprised, instead she takes a deep breath and begins to sing.

"Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.

If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet;
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three."

Holding the final note she watches the crowds reaction for a few moments, bows and starts a light and happy tune. She continues like this for the rest of the night, alternating between songs to raise the level in the room before lowering it once more.

Finally when the innkeeper shouts for last orders she summons the sounds of nightingales from the rafters of the inn, the bird song chirping with the music as she plays..

"BEAUTIFUL must be the mountains whence ye come,
And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom
Ye learn your song:
Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there,
Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air
Bloom the year long!

Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams:
Our song is the voice of desire, that haunts our dreams,
A throe of the heart,
Whose pining visions dim, forbidden hopes profound,
No dying cadence nor long sigh can sound,
For all our art.

Alone, aloud in the raptured ear of men
We pour our dark nocturnal secret; and then,
As night is withdrawn
From these sweet-springing meads and bursting boughs of May,
Dream, while the innumerable choir of day
Welcome the dawn."

"Welcome the dawn..." She smiles and lowers her head.

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Stars: Cantrips [1d20] = 17 fail

Singing / playing [1d20] = 8 pass

Last song: Singing / playing [1d20] = 15 pass (just)

Nightingales Cantrips [1d20] = 3 pass

Cantrips are so underused, why I love the proficiency, as long as they don't affect another physically really they have so many uses. (As you can see).

And that's her for the night, apart from getting her tips.

[Ooc: one of the many things I'm enjoying about PBMB rather than tabletop. Superb.]

The wine smells of good quality but the flavor is quite bitter, though she can tell that several other occupants are enjoying theirs; perhaps it is an acquired taste. It does, however, seem to soothe her tired throat tremendously. The food is a hearty plate of roasted meats and vegetables with large pieces of lamb in a red sauce cooked to perfection. It is tender juicy and quite filling.

She returns to the stage amid a mild round of applause. Her conjured sound effects fail at first, but they quickly returned for her later numbers. More and more people came up to make contributions, including some of the wait-staff. As the evening wears on a few people drift away to their rooms or to leave the tavern for home or elsewhere. One man in particular she notices when he leaves just after making a donation of silver to her cup. He was slender and graceful as many of the people of this town were, and perhaps a few inches shorter than she. There was something about his face that seems familiar, but during her brief glimpse Mira could not discern what it was.

The night drew to a close and she played her finale for but a small fraction of the crowd that had assembled earlier. Taking her first real look at the collection she was almost shocked to see it practically overflowing.

[Mira earns 9 sp and 41 cp playing for 4 hours.]
[Ooc: I'll reserve experience for when we do the next full week montage, which we are probably only one post away from. Give me an idea of what Mira might like to investigate using the map. I assume she will check out shops and the like along the main road as well.]

Collecting the coins in stunned silence, the war had hit people hard, even in Palanthlas where the money flowed through the old quarter like the sea, down in NewCity she was lucky to see 10 copper! Hiding the coins in her pouch she takes a last sip of the water and gives the Innkeeper a nod of thanks.

Heading upstairs enters the room, singing quietly "Light the beacon, light the way." As the candles left in the room spark into life in an instant. Placing down her lute reverently in a safe place, she locks the door and pulls on her nightshirt, extinguishing all but one candle with a soft blow. Finally she slips into bed and blows out the last candle.
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Lighting candle (last cantrip of the day): Cantrips [1d20] = 6 pass.

Remove web for deep pockets, 1st levels remain the same.

Over the next week she will play each night, trying to learn some local songs as well as visiting the stores, including consulting with a wizard if one exists. She wants to know all she can about this place, and learn as much language as she can.

She'll get more clothes to match the outfit, and perhaps find a way to trade the silver axe for silver bolts, or even a silver short sword.

Collecting her earnings, Mira heads to bed. She finds her room and things undisturbed. That night she dreams of performing... the room is packed to the walls with people, and they applaud. The door to the inn stands open, and she is dimly aware of a misty shadow creeping in through it. She plays on, and it slowly begins to wash over the crowd from behind. They stand oblivious, cheering and calling songs for her to play.

She opens her mouth in warning, but the fog continues to roll over them as they stand oblivious to the danger. Bit by bit it slides into the room until there are none left. Suddenly on the stage beside her are others aware of the danger. A warrior, darkened by the sun with a huge sword in his hand; a woman with a mace and shield, much shorter than she but neither Kender nor child; another, even smaller, with childish mannerisms and curiosity, fearless of the hazard, and others... Their features are hazed in the manner of dreams and she cannot look directly at them for fear the mists will take the opportunity to rush in. The fireplace burns beside them, and as each appears it glows brighter as if their presence itself pushes back the night. The harsh caw of a crow echoes through the darkness... Caw... Caw... Caw... once... twice... thrice death calls for thee, the old saying went...

Starting awake in her room, she hears a flutter just outside her window. A second later, a crow dives from the roof above and flies off, a cluster of thatch in it's beak. She prepared herself and dressed, it looked to be mid-morning now. She went downstairs and spoke to the innkeeper about performing again tonight. Through some back and forth they made themselves understood, though her grasp of the language was improving quickly. He said she was welcome to play for him as long as she liked, and that her showing up had been quite fortunate since his prior entertainment had taken off without a word. Tonight would be the weekly festival, though, and there would likely be few patrons about so she was welcome to skip playing tonight if she wanted to attend at the Amphitheater. The huge crowd last night had apparently been in town for the performance.

Near the bar she noted a calendar made of small wooden rails with moveable numbered tiles. Some included little pictures for holidays, and a marking for the full and hidden moon... I wonder which moon... she though absently. Today seemed to mark beginning of the weekend, and she was surprised to learn that Winter was only beginning to come to a close! She stood in stunned silence for a moment... it had been late spring back home... how in the... At her silence, the innkeeper followed her gaze to the calendar. Pointing to the long tile at the top he said January... Mira realized that there was a whole writing system she would have to learn as well... fortunately, aside from a couple of oddly shaped letters, his pronunciation of the others was similar enough to common that she should be able to understand it once she knew the language well enough. Thanking him again, she stepped outside.

A wide cobblestone road spread off to the east and west, and seemed to be the main thorofare. The town was bustling with people, all graceful and smooth in their movements, mainly some shade of blonde but dotted with raven-hair here and there. On a whim she went West, and she saw several shops for clothing and necessities about, as well as a couple of homes along the way. Quickly she came across a smithy quaintly named "The Smithy" on the north side of the road, but her inquiry within revealed that he had no such items, but could make one for her given time. His shop was a little busy at the moment, as he had a large order for ornamental railing at 'the hill'. she thanked him and left, deciding to shop around a bit first.

Before long the road curved northeast, and right at the bend she saw another smithy with only a painted anvil on the sign. The smith inside and his apprentice were the first two people with different hair and eyes she had seen in town! The smith was a burly man with brown hair and green eyes about her height and heavily muscled but with a small pot-belly. The apprentice, a lanky youth with short but shaggy red hair, was perhaps a half a head taller than she and hardly spoke. The smith was John sledge, and he was surprised at her request for silver items, but he pulled out a small store of both cold-iron and silver weapons.

Moving along she found other shops and places of interest. Around noon the sound of a man singing filled the town as if he were but a few yards away from her, though she could not see him. Confused she looked around, but nobody seemed surprised. He was decent, but not particularly skilled. When she came to the amphitheater north of town, it became clear that that was the source of the sound. A large mansion stood to the south of the loop here, with a park between it and the Amphitheater. A large statue stood in the park, and many had already turned out to listen to the music. This must be the festival the innkeeper spoke of...



[The Smithy:
Bolts, 12 silver arrowheads for 9cp, 2 days to make. He could replace some of her current ones or make new for the added normal price for bolts.
Shortsword: would take 30 days to finish and cost 23 gp, but the raw material would add another 5sp to the total.
Axe: He would pay her 1 gp for the silver axe]

Blacksmith: John Sledge
Bolts. 12 heads for 9cp by tomorrow.
Shortsword: 20 days, total cost 23 gp, 5sp.
Axe: he would pay 1gp for the handaxe.
Current inventory:
Iron weps: (normal phb price) scickle, trident, broadsword, flight arrows(7pc), shortsword.
Silver weps: (phb cost x2) Longsword, warhammer, battleaxe]


[OOC: Deeppockets requires a specially made garment of at least 50gp worth, It can be more expensive for added benefit, but she wouldn't be able to use the spell until one is acquired or made. If you'd rather swap it for something else for now you can.

There is a lot here, but I'll add a follow-up post later to round out the rest of the week. Feel free to post in the meantime if you'd like to add interaction based on the information above.

Calendar details and shops around the loop as well as the numbered items on the map of Harmonia have been added to the 'Party Knowledge' thread. Armed with a little more detail about the town, we can move to more specific things that you want to accomplish for the next week-montage. It will be about three weeks before the others show up, not counting this montage.

The month names may seem a bit lazy on my part, but they are actually the accepted names for Barovia in Ravenloft, which are largely used in the lands of the core when the campaign setting was first established... There are, however, 30 days to each month with the exception of October which has 31... because, you know... how can you not have an October 31st in a place like Ravenloft ]

Right, she will keep web for now, she'll have to get some cash in the future to pay for the special outfit.
She'll get Ten silver bolts, swapping ten of her iron ones, and arrange to get a silver dagger 2gp? until then she'll hold onto the axe. Something tells her she might need it. She'll sell it when the dagger is available.. All through John Sledge, he seems to be more... Helpful.

She will also get two white shirts and a black and green skirt.

She'll pay for them with tips as she gets them.

[OOC: sorry this post is so long]

Before Mira exits the second smithy, she leaves 10 bolts with John to be fitted with silver heads for 8cp, and is told she can pick them up and pay in the morning. She also leaves an order for a silver dagger, which will cost her 2gp and 2sp but wouldn’t be ready until next Thursday.

After she stops briefly to listen to the music in front of the mansion, which she learned was a local Bard College, she continued down the cobbled road. Quickly she came to another smaller road branching to the East up the only significant rise in the city. It up a steep path to a rich area of mansions and manor-houses with red tiled roofs. This seemed to be the only other cobblestone street in the city.

Just past that she saw a triangular storefront resting on a smaller road. An elaborately carved rendition of the Kartakan device, the gold lute on black, served as a sign here. Wide glass windows, which she was shocked to see had no shutters, lined the two sides exposed to the street. Instruments of fine craftsmanship and all of the paraphernalia necessary for a performer decorated stands and shelves. The place inside bustled with people just looking around and a few making purchases. A pretty young lady with long, wavy platinum blonde hair named Thereese asked if she could assist her. Mira was about to decline when she spotted suspicious looking scroll. The girl gradually understood what she was asking about, and explained that it was a spell specifically for bards. The shop, The Enchanting Lute it was called, also sold and repaired instruments as well as spell components with 10% of proceeds going to Harmonic Hall. If Mira was looking for anything else magical, the Silver Scale was probably her best bet.

Afterwards Mira headed back out and finished her circuit of ‘The Loop’, as she had learned it was called, ending back at the inn. Poking her head inside, she saw that the common room was nearly abandoned save for a few people eating lunch. The innkeeper saw her and waved her inside, having one of the servers bring her a plate of food. As she went to pay, the girl shook her head saying something she missed. Apparently her performance last night had impressed the innkeeper. Thanking the waitress she enjoyed her meal, a warm stew of chicken and hearty vegetables, which she had seen all through the market in town.

Heading back outside, she made for the Silver Scale. The shop was neat and clean, and as she entered the familiar smell of herbs and potions and crisp parchment filled her senses. A slender man stood behind the counter, his long straight black hair loosely gathered at his nape by a wooden clasp. There was something oddly familiar about his angular features, but the pale complexion and violet eyes were consistent with the local populace so she was nearly certain she had never laid eyes on him before. He introduced himself as Serath Allanision, and welcomed her to his shop.

It was a narrow room, with several racks and shelves behind the counter, with some less expensive and mundane items set out in the customer area. Mira saw spellbooks, writing materials, potions and scrolls, as well as a hefty collection of reference volumes; anything a mage would ever need. Struggling through the language, she was able to communicate enough that he presented an abbreviated list of his more unique wares. After conducting her business there, she again returned to the street.

The remainder of the day was spent browsing and trying to communicate as well as listening to the music flowing through the town. The performers were getting better and better as time went. By nightfall the musicians and singers were coming close to her own level of skill. As the sun fell a light grew into being on the top of the cliffs east of town. More than a dozen huge bonfires had been lit all along the ridge from the southern wall to the river, casting a gentle illumination over the edge of town. Checking once more at her inn, the Wayfarer’s Rest, she saw it was hardly occupied, and the wait-staff was listening at windows to the performances. Again the innkeep noticed her and said not to worry, but to enjoy the performances at the festival.

Taking the man at his word, she headed to the Amphitheater. As she came to the park before it, she saw a massive congregation of people lying and sitting on blankets and low stools in the grass. They shared snacks and wine and mead, listening the melodies and generally enjoying life. She edged closer, but the Amphitheater itself was nearly packed. Four concentric semicircular platforms 25’ deep surrounded a raised stone stage. There seemed no way to get onto the stage, but the performers made their changes somehow, perhaps through passages in the cliff-side. The entire affair was overhung by a clam-shaped outcropping of rock that must have been responsible for the miraculous acoustics. Only a few seats on the outermost rows were not taken. On into the night the entertainment went with groups of singers and musicians, one or two or ten at a time together. There had even been a brief play, which had been mostly sung, with actors in elaborate costumes. By the time she made her way home it was growing late, and a full-looking yellow moon rose in the sky… Only one… no red moon… no sign of Nuitari shadowing any other celestial bodies that she could see… She was truly not on Krynn anymore…

The rest of the week passed quickly with her working on her language skills and investigating the sites a little closer. The Harmonic Hall had heard of her initial endeavor at the Wayfarer’s Rest, and offered membership for a flat fee of 5sp plus 25% of her future performance earnings while associated with the college. If she was interested, the membership would allow her a discount on classes at The Hall as well as the opportunity to play at the Crystal Club, and perhaps even the Amphitheater once she was able to demonstrate her abilities before a small panel. She accepted the document, but decided to think it over for a bit before applying. Mira continued to play at the inn for the rest of the week. Things were pretty slow on Sunday, as most of the out-of-towners were leaving and people were sleeping off the festival the night before. The start of the week wasn’t as lucrative as her first night had been, but that was understandable as well… All told she earned a fairly large sum of copper and silver for her work, and had made something of a name for herself. Here and there she caught whispers of ‘the gypsy’ or ‘the red bard’, but usually they were said with respect or acceptance. It seems her ploy to mark herself as something other than a suspicious outlander had succeeded.

==========
[Enchanting lute scrolls (details in complete bard book. prices are in gp):
Alter Instrument (125), sound bubble (125), Silence 15’ rad(250), Conjure Cabinet (500)]

Silver Scale supplies: (CW means it is in Complete Wizard, CB in Complete Bard, ToM tome of Mag. All of these should be on the purple worm site.)
1st lvl spells (100): Copy (WC), Audible Glamer, Dancing lights, Magic Missile, Affect Normal Fires, Fist of Stone (ToM), Shield
2nd lvl spells (200): Vocalize (WC), Stinking Cloud, Darkness 15' rad
3rd lvl spells (300): Hold Person, Fireball
Potions: Climbing (300), Healing (200), Extra-Healing(400), Super-Heroism (warr only 450), Oil of disenchantment (750)]

[Ooc: Well, John has some ready-made items and shop isn't quite as busy so that accounts for the faster production times. White shirts and skirt are easily found in a clothing store off the loop for a total of 5 sp. They also have fine cloth and skilled seamstresses who would be able to make a garment to her specifications for deeppockets when she can afford it.

Mira spends:
2gp 2sp and acquires a silver dagger, 8cp to convert 10 bolts to silver-tips, 5sp to acquire two linen blouses and a black and green skirt. (costs: 2gp, 7sp, 8cp) 278cp val

Mira gains:
9sp and 41 cp for performing Friday, 1gp for selling her silver hand axe,
a total of 34 sp and 36 cp for performing sun-thurs, her meals and room are covered by the inn for her performances.
{5 perf checks: Mira Wk1 Performance checks: [1d20] = 13, 8, 1, 7, 9. All 5 pass!}
(Earnings: 43sp, 77cp. hopefully all of this will help off-set the fact that your steel pieces are largely devalued) 607cp val
Total money: +1gp, 22sp, 9cp

Mira’s lang check improves by 14% (2%/day) for a total of 25%.
Mira picks up an application to the local bard college, the Harmonic Hall.
Mira gains 100xp for performances, 45 xp for cantrips(9*5 xp. 2 with gypsies, 7 in town).
She is now at 5,485/10,000

There are several reasons your tips were so high for Friday night: You are in a land full of music lovers, the house was packed, you made your prof check, the roll I made secretly for her initial reputation here was high (1 pt below max), and the rolls from the earnings chart were high as well…
I’ll list her reputation on her character sheet, it is currently Index: 5 or ‘Liked’ per Table 24 of CB.

Sheet music can be picked up at the Enchanting lute, or she could work with another bard or musician to learn local songs. Everyone is a little distracted by the festival on Sat, so it would likely be Mon before she can try to find someone to do so. With the Visitani she mainly just got a good feel for the style, rather than committing any particular songs to memory… but the Harmonians can’t tell the difference.

Alright, preparing for montage week 2! Now that you know what typically goes on in a week here and where you stand with the populace, hopefully we can jump through the rest rather swiftly.]

Ok let's do a little breeze through this, I'm sure we need to get the group together real soon.

Mira considers the option of joining the Harmonic hall, the tips would obviously be nice but perhaps what was more important was access to the records and the songs (she would get paid for the performances yes?) she'll take the offer and start to find some fellow performers go learn from, hopefully with her growing understanding she can't translate some of her own songs to Harmonian.

She'll keep in the same vein practicing her skills and trying to learn from other bards. She takes the stage name of "Ruby the Gypsy Bard." She'll get her hair braided and possibly add a few beads to go with the gypsy look.

Next she wants to find out why the people she keeps seeing look familiar, are they perhaps elves of some kind? The thought kept bugging her and occasionally those faces haunted her dreams.

Finally silver weapons, she was sure she remembered why people used them, an old tale she couldn't quite grasp what it was. So she did her best to research the facts.. And any tales too.

A little bit of everything [1d100] = 28 (20%) fail, but close.

[Ooc: aah, you've hit on a few interesting bits ]

Mira bolsters her disguise by changing her hair and appearance slightly, and adding some small touches like beads and the like. She finds several people at the college willing to work with her and discovers that free access to the library comes with membership as well. Mira collects her application and has some help filling it out from one of the waitresses at the inn. It requires things like her name, stage name (which translates to something like “Rouge, la Barda Gitane), references in town (Wayfarer’s Rest), entertainment proficiencies, preferred style and current residence. The waitress tells the innkeeper what she is doing, and once he hears she will be associated with the Harmonic Hall he quickly offers her an additional 6sp a night. With the free room and meals the offer is worth at least a gold and a half! The waitress reminds him that Mira must be accepted first, but he waves it away as if it is a foregone conclusion.

Returning her application to the Hall she pays her fee, and expresses her interest in performing right away. Apparently the performances are not assigned, but applied for by the individual. Naturally association with the Hall will make her more appealing than non-affiliated applicants. A series of slate boards lines one hallway just off the entrance. To be eligible for the Crystal Club or the Amphitheater performances she must play before a small panel of professors of the college, which they schedule for her for next Friday an hour before dark. She visits the boards on her way out. It is still difficult to read some of them, but another musician browsing helps her out a bit. There are several categories each demarcated by the type of announcement: Jobs and services requested, symposiums & paid classes, instructors needed & Hall notices, paid services offered, and even a board for anything else that included requests to simply meet and talk music or have a jam session. Most of the jobs that seem to pay well are crossed off already, but she does find a few for 3 or 4 silver per night. Before she leaves she is notified that her application has been accepted, and that she is now a member of the college and receives a small scroll of announcement to that effect.

Her days are filled with research and her nights with music. She makes good use of the college library, and learns several local songs from sheet music; though the words are still difficult for her sometimes. She attends a couple of informal gatherings and works out the kinks with some of the other students, who want to learn all about gypsy life. One young musician, barely into manhood, seems quite taken with her and is a tremendous help; if a bit overzealous. They group asks all about her origins, her travels, the style of the music and for particular traditional Gypsy songs. She evades the inquiries into her homeland easily enough with mysterious and vague references of a strange land far away… which is as true as it can be. The other responses she draws from her short time with the Visitani and diverts the conversation when able. When asked about specific songs she pretends they are sacred but gives, in her mind at least, the basics of the gypsy style. She gets help translating a few of her songs from Krynn as well, calling them things she picked up in her travels, and manages to leave before blowing her cover.

She pays special attention to the patrons the next few nights, but the one who looks familiar has not yet returned. She visits the silver scale again, going to the shop Wednesday after lunch. As she talks to Serath she watches him carefully. He seems to notice and is cautious, but not quite defensive. She learns that the reference library can be used here for a fee of 2 cp per hour, and there is a small room in the shop set up to the right for studying and copying. She pays for an hour and, using the word for silver from the sign’s storefront, checks the index for references. She finds only one, and excitedly retrieves the volume. Most of the discussion is about magical properties with regards to protection, but she eventually finds a vague reference to it being able to pierce the hide of ‘terrible beasts’… although there are no specifics. Eager for more knowledge on the subject and caught up in the investigation, she forgets the shopkeep for now and returns to the college. Digging through catalogued lists of old epics and tales of daring-do she comes across several mentions of ‘terrible beasts’, but every time she goes to find the shelved volume it is either taken out or simply missing. She is about to give up when she finds a single thin tome. Skimming it she quickly comes across a sketch. The figure of some massive bear, tall as a building and reared against the moonlight. The hero, a bard with a broad red hat and coat, long black wavy hair with a neatly trimmed beard and fine mustache, wields a silver-edged sword against the creature. A pack of shaggy grey and black dogs, almost wolf-like, aid him in his hunt. She stares at the figures in stunned silence until the clock in the Hall strikes. Not realizing it was so late, she returns to the inn, as it is the only job offer she has so far this week.

Things started off well enough, and she earned some good tips Sunday and Monday, but her performance dropped off a bit Tuesday and Thursday. She played skillfully enough, but the passion was missing as her mind was distracted with her research and the upcoming test before the panel. The crowd was also a little thinner than last week, though she came to understand that this was more typical. All in all it wasn’t a waste, and the new salary she wall earning for being part of the Hall more than made up for any missed tips; netting her more than a gold piece over her tally last week. She was beginning to acquire a large number of smaller coins, and considered exchanging some for gold at some shops next week to keep her purse and pack lighter.


[OOC: it is now Friday Feb 9th, 736. Mira’s performance before the panel is this evening. Montage plans? My original count was off, and we have 2 more montage weeks to go but we should be able to knock them out in a single post for each week.

Mira passed every performance and reputation check for each day that first week. Now we see what it is typically like, but the salary she is earning due to her association with the hall helps a lot!]

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[Mira earns 36 sp(salary)+ 15sp 38cp (tips), -5sp (application fee)= subtotal: 46 sp 38cp (498cp value)
Subtotal -25% of remaining (Hall fees)= total earnings: 37 sp, 3cp
[Performance checks (had to split them on the site for some reason): Mira Wk2 Perf chks: [1d20] = 6, 11, 18, Mira Wk2 Perf chks: [1d20] = 3, 20: pass, pass, fail, pass, fail

I don’t usually bother with coin weights until someone acquires over 100 of them. At that point they become about 100/lb of wt. Mira’s current cash inventory (16 stp, 1 gp, 118 sp, 19 cp) would be appx 1.5 lbs. It’s up to you whether you want to keep small change or not, but since you’re getting paid that way it may end up being a lot more before the next two weeks are over. I won’t bother with adding the weight just yet since we are still in montage mode.

Mira gains 14% in her lang check to a total of 39%]

Ok, we can do this half montage and half full post..
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Mira sits nervously waiting for the professors to review her work, she'd tried many songs she knew, ones she had attempted (With help) to translate to Harmonian but nothing seemed to work.. Was she overreaching herself? Back home she was a fair player, nothing fancy but good enough to make a living, but this was a society of music lovers. And they all had something to hide.

Savage beasts, a destiny, those people she saw in her dreams.. What did it all mean?

Tuning the lute one more time she strummed a few basic chords to check everything was correct, the fifth pair were out half a note, again.. The strings never lasted forever.

When her name is called she rises to her feet, summoning a look of confidence she stands before the professors, and takes the stool offered. She tells them her name (in the best Harmonian she can manage and gives a simple bow)

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."

Playing a soft opening note she sings gently at first, above her she hoped small clouds appeared but she didn't notice, she was too caught up in her music. This was one of her mentors favourites, the translation had taken hours of work, she hoped it was worth the effort.

When the song is done she rises from the stool and waits.

-----------
Casts cantrip to make the clouds appear, in the middle of the song she will also get waves to crash as quiet accompaniment.
I'm going to let you roll these, feels too important.

The rest of the week is spent playing and looking for signs on the boards for other jobs, BUT she will not turn down work at the Wayfarer, the inn keeper will get priority as he seems to believe in her.

She will look through old songs to see what they have to say about "savage beasts" songs are often a way to record information.

Finally yes she should. Trade her silver for gold, I'm assuming there will be a commission so we'll wait till the end of this week and see.

[Ooc: Nice. One of my favorites as well, though I am more partial to Coleridge
Imagine the voice of the head of the panel as that of John Cleese... just for fun.]

As the final strains of her performance fade like mist in the sun, the panel facing her turned to discuss things quietly. There were three of them. One was man with grey wisps of hair forming a horseshoe around his balding head, thin wire-framed glasses that appeared to have only the bottom half of the lenses rested on a hawk's beak of a nose. Another was a lady just past her middle years with strands of silver in her ebony hair. She had been beautiful once, and the lines on her face suggested that she knew it was no longer so. She carried herself with an air of self-importance. The last was a younger man, perhaps mid thirties, with a ready smile and neatly combed black gair and gotee.

The trio went over several points they had marked down individually, and there was a little discussion regarding one or two things. When what seemed like hours had passed, though Mira was certain it had only been a minute or so, they turned their collective attention back to her. The closed doors to the small room suddenly felt like a trap. Each statement was carefully worded and repeated, if necessary, to ensure she understood every point. Miss Rhelawren, the older man began, it is the feeling of this panel that you are indeed a talented young woman. It is clear you take your chosen profession seriously and have dedicated some few years to its study. It is equally apparent that you took your performance here tonight quite seriously, having translated lyrics and practiced as you must have for that seamless number. Indeed it is readily heard that you have made a regular practice of learning both our language and our traditions of music.

He coughs quietly and takes a small drink of water from their table before continuing. Before we torture you with suspense much further, let me say that it is the decision of this panel that you are quite capable to represent The Hall in any venue in town; including the Crystal Club or the Amphitheatre... As all good entertainers must, we have a few points for you to reflect on. One member of this panel is familiar with the 'traveling people', if you take my meaning. While it seems you have spent some time with them, it is also clear you are not one of them. This, in and of itself, is no real concern as many entertainers affect a persona when they perform. It would be prudent to keep in mind that others will be able to make the identification as well. The next point is the use of magics during a performance. While some of us enjoyed your... arcane accompaniments, they may come off in a finer venue as a way to mask any lack in abilities. While we are in no way discouraging you from using them in other settings, we recommend you rely on your professionalism and skill in those two venues. One final point in your favor is that, even when the initial conjuration failed, you continued on unabated. It is a marked trait of a professional to simply move past any mistakes, rather than letting them affect the performance further. Congratulations Miss Rhelawren. At that, he took her membership scroll and stamped it with red ink that formed an encircled silhouette of a lute.

Mira was in the hall now with a few other applicants, hardly recalling having left the room. A few musicians asked her questions about the judges, how she did, what they said. She answered a couple politely, but scarcely heard most of them. Before leaving, another professor drew her aside and explained that there had been a cancellation at the Amphitheatre. A regular performer had taken off some weeks ago and the Hall had not been as well pleased with the replacement as they expected. If she was available, she could put her name in and would be considered for it now that she was approved. The performance was a week from tomorrow, and a conglomerate of professors (himself included) would make the decision bt this coming Tuesday.

Mira practically floated back to the inn, where she played a great set to a crowd reminiscent of the one on her first night in town. The next day she attended the festival and watched several performances, imaging herself on the stage. It would be the biggest audience she had played to by far... maybe ten times so! A nervous shiver came over her, but the comfort of knowing there were a dozen other acts helped somewhat. When the true virtuosos came on stage late into the night the city itself rang with a haunting but celestial presence of music.

Life turned back to wgat passed for normal now the next couple of days. She continued her research for any mention of 'savage beasts', and found a few; some of which included imagery of the moon. All manner of beasts came up, massive bears, boars, even rat-men... the only exception seemed to be wolves, which were often depicted with stoic nobility. Often the tales and songs included speak of 'shining blades' and 'noble metals, and even 'metal black and cold.' There was perhaps more to it, but nothing in the pages spelled it out.

Her shows at the Wayfarer's Rest went well on Sunday, though the crowd was thin. Monday she was nervous to hear about the slot at the coming festival, and didn't play her best. In the mid afternoon as she was browsing the Hall library, a young messenger boy delivered her a notice. It said that she had been chosen to represent The Hall this Saturday at the festival. She would perform for no more than one half-hour and would be paid a sum of 1 gold mark. Of she accepted these terms she could send word with the messenger. Details for where to go before the show were included. That night she was so excited that she played as good as she ever had. The next night she began to worry, wondering what to prepare for the auspicious occasion and fairly botched her set. She buckled down the next morning and practiced her numbers and transitions. Fear that if word of her fumbling the night bedore got out the offer to represent the college would be rescinded. Thursday night she gave a passionate performance that easily equaled the best she had ever had in her life. Just after returning to the stage from her dinner she saw him walk in. The man who had looked familiar before, but she marked him well now. He sat in the back, the only open seats left, and got up once to make a donation of silver. She studied his face, and was surprised to see the shopkeeper of the Silver Scale. He had cut his hair short to the shoulders, and wore it loose now. His clothes were somewhat odd amidst the other patrons, and those angular features taunted her memory. He didn't stay long after her scrutiny of him, but it didn't matter much now...


[Ooc: I'll reserve xp until the end of the next montage after the amphitheatre for ease of bookkeeping]
==========
[Mira 2 cantrip and panel perf check: [1d20] = 18[1d20] = 4[1d20] = 2
Cantrip 1 fail, cantrip 2 pass, prof check pass well!

Mira earns 36 sp(salary)+ 38sp 34cp (tips)= subtotal: 74 sp 34cp (774cp value)
Subtotal -25% (Hall fees)= total earnings: 57 sp, 11cp
Mira wk3, fri Perf chk [1d20] = 7
Mira wk 3, 5 perf chks sun-thr [1d20] = 11[1d20] = 17[1d20] = 3[1d20] = 20[1d20] = 1 : fri pass, sat festival, sun pass, mon fail, tues pass well, wed fail horribly, thr pass perfect!

Mira gains 14% in her lang check to a total of 53%]

And we'll have a half and half post once more..

The wolves were revered, interesting... Reading on the subject of wolves she considers the look of the men she was seeing, and how they compared...

Mira considers the suggestions she was given, they were all perfectly acceptable, she wasn't a Gypsy that didn't mean she couldn't take on that role when she was performing.

However, tonight would be different, she would perform as herself, no magic and no surprises, if she failed.. She would fail as Mira.

Wearing her only dress, a simple white linen gown hanging tightly in all the right places she steps on stage. One leg resting on the stool she began to play, the words of the song that had spoken to her heart coming from her lips.

"Is anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller's head:
And he smote upon the door a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head: -
'Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,' he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone."

When the song was finished she began another, this time in her own language.

"All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams do I
Live o'er again that happy hour,
When midway on the mount I lay,
Beside the ruined tower.

The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene
Had blended with the lights of eve;
And she was there, my hope, my joy,
My own dear Genevieve!

She leant against the arm{'e}d man,
The statue of the arm{'e}d knight;
She stood and listened to my lay,
Amid the lingering light.

Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope! my joy! my Genevieve!
She loves me best, whene'er I sing
The songs that make her grieve.

I played a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story—
An old rude song, that suited well
That ruin wild and hoary.

She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the Knight that wore
Upon his shield a burning brand;
And that for ten long years he wooed
The Lady of the Land.

I told her how he pined: and ah!
The deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another's love,
Interpreted my own.

She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes, and modest grace;
And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face!

But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he crossed the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day nor night;

That sometimes from the savage den,
And sometimes from the darksome shade,
And sometimes starting up at once
In green and sunny glade,—

There came and looked him in the face
An angel beautiful and bright;
And that he knew it was a Fiend,
This miserable Knight!

And that unknowing what he did,
He leaped amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land!

And how she wept, and clasped his knees;
And how she tended him in vain—
And ever strove to expiate
The scorn that crazed his brain;—

And that she nursed him in a cave;
And how his madness went away,
When on the yellow forest-leaves
A dying man he lay;—

His dying words—but when I reached
That tenderest strain of all the ditty,
My faltering voice and pausing harp
Disturbed her soul with pity!

All impulses of soul and sense
Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve;
The music and the doleful tale,
The rich and balmy eve;

And hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long!

She wept with pity and delight,
She blushed with love, and virgin-shame;
And like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breathe my name.

Her bosom heaved—she stepped aside,
As conscious of my look she stepped—
Then suddenly, with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.

She half enclosed me with her arms,
She pressed me with a meek embrace;
And bending back her head, looked up,
And gazed upon my face.

'Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.

I calmed her fears, and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin pride;
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous Bride."

Mira plays her heart out singing for all she is worth, when she is done she takes a bow and leaves the stage.

----------------

Mira will try to get to know the young man who was rather overzealous, somehow he seemed to fit her, and continue playing where she is asked. Her coins were obviously getting a bit, so perhaps Changing most of the copper and silver to gold, (or copper to silver) would be a good idea.

Then there is the subject of the people she saw, a curious child, a dark man.. And the girl that was not a girl, these would stand out she was sure, she will keep an eye out for such people.

[Ooc: Montage Sequences over! Wow this was a long post, sorry about that. I guess we just had a lot to cover this week…]

Friday morning, immediately after the shopkeep’s appearance the night before, Mira heads to the Silver Scale to get a better look at him. As soon as she enters, she realizes she has made a mistake. His hair is just as long as it had been the first time she saw him, not short like in the inn! The sight threw her off only for a moment, and she began browsing a bit, stealing glances at him from time to time. Apparently he noticed, and asked in that musical language Can I help you find anything in particular? Taking the opportunity to examine his face more closely, she saw no resemblance to anything canine… and then it hit her. Those angular features belonged on an elf! They were less sharp than she expected for one of the fey, so perhaps he was a half-elf… If it were true, he would be the first non-human she had seen since coming to this strange land!

Still a little thrown off by the discovery, she mentioned that she thought she had seen him at her inn last night. He took his time before replying, Interesting… but I was not there, so it must have been someone else... making it clear he would not say more on the matter. Letting it go for the moment, she headed back out into town… there was something there… she was sure of it… That evening her performance at the inn suffered somewhat, but she could not get the man out of her head… The morning of her performance she practiced and ran through the timing of her songs for the Amphitheater that afternoon, so her lapse would hopefully not occur again.

Following the instructions on her notice, she made her way to the Amphitheatre almost an hour before her performance. The sun was nearly down, and it would be dark by the time her set came up. A small natural cave opened in the cliff just to the right of the seating for the theater. She had seen the place from the entrance, but had never been inside. A cavern full of natural clear crystals, dotted with rubies and emeralds and sapphires, shone with the failing light of day. Little artificial illumination was used in the 15’ long passage that made up the entrance as the sunlight was cast and reflected about by the stones. Cool humid air wafted the scent of perfume and fine wine, and footsteps echoed softly back from the gleaming walls.

A 4’ high shelf flanked by two sets of full-plate and carved from the living rock diverted the entrance further into the cavern. A beautifully ornate wrought-iron gate stood open, attended by two lovely young girls who were at hand to collect the cover charge. She watched, amazed, as a couple of patrons before her dropped platinum into the collection basket! Striding up to them, she stated her name and that she was expected to perform tonight at the Amphitheatre. She showed her membership scroll with the seal at the bottom and they allowed her through, wishing her luck in her performance. About that time the next act must have begun on stage, because the entire cavern was filled with the sound of music from outside. The crystals rang back with a harmonic accompaniment.

As she moved beyond the entrance she saw the room was filled with dining tables and patrons. Small waterfalls and other intriguing oddities decorated natural alcoves in the cavern walls, and winding passages branched off in several places. Near the back of the main room a large column of crystals rose to the 30’ high ceiling. A masterfully crafted circular bar surrounded it over which hung a false roof holding various glasses and cups that seemed to be made of pure crystal. The bar top and underside of the roof were lined with mirrors, and reflected the gentle lamp lighting back as readily as the crystalline walls did. Everything was clean and gleamed with a soft, crisp light.

Approaching the bartender, a powerful looking swarthy man with black hair, she began to ask where she should go as instructed. Just then the singer outside concluded his song and the man held up a hand to forestall her as the entire place fell silent. The crystals hummed their harmonic tones for a few moments before growing silent. Chatter in the club started up again, and the bartender spoke. You can tell how good a performer is by how long the crystals sing after he is done. Taking in her lute and garb, he continues; if you’re performing tonight, the passage to the left there will take you to the waiting area for entertainers. If you have a little time, a glass of Meekulbrau soothes the throat. What do you say? (I’ll leave it to you if she wants one or not. A single glass of moderate quality would be on the house for her tonight.)

Afterwards she approaches the passage and sees several other entertainers waiting, musicians, singers, and a couple of the singing-actors who were now sitting at a table enjoying the crimson wine made locally (Meekulbrau). A man from the hall stood at the end of the passage where it narrowed considerably with an ordered list of the performers. He noted her arrival and marked his paper, informing her that there would be one more singer before she went on. She bided her time talking to the others and when her turn came up, she followed the hall and passed a young lady coming off stage. The girl wished her luck, and headed into the club. Coming to the mouth of the passage, she saw that it opened onto the stage itself, facing away from the crowd so it would seem the entertainers simply ‘appeared’ on stage. Taking a deep breath, she walked out.

The broad stone platforms of the Amphitheatre below her were loosely packed with a couple hundred people, and twice as many more filled the grassy park beyond. Nearly half the town’s population was out there, and she knew more would come as the true masters began later in the evening. Night had just fallen and the bonfires above were being lit, though she could not see the ones above her due to the clam shaped outcropping. To her it felt like every breath and footstep she took was amplified, echoing back upon itself eerily. Making her way to the stool, she sat and said nothing as she had seen others do. Behind her a voice announced, Rouge, la Barda Gitane.

At first the thrill and shock of performing before so many people made her unsteady, but she used an old performer’s trick and stared out above the crowd rather than directly at them. Time seemed to slip and before she knew it the set was over, and she took her bow. A hearty round of applause followed her offstage, and she tried to recall how it had gone. In the club, a second volley of applause greeted her. As she entered the main room the bartender commented that she had done well for her first performance there, and brought her a glass of good quality Meekulbrau. Apparently she had an admirer in the crowd now.

Sunday she was still on her adrenal high from the night before, and played a good set at the inn. Monday an envelope was delivered to her with her earnings from the festival; a piece of gold with a lute stamped on it as the other local coins did. Somehow it seemed appropriate. A note along with it said that she had represented the hall well, and she would be considered eligible for such work in the future if she had a mind to do so. It appeared that no hall fees had been taken out of the payment, and she supposed the hall and theatre association were basically one and the same. Things had started to fall into something of a routine for her, and her subsequent performances at the inn were consistently good with the single exception of that Wednesday night.

The rest of her time was taken up with other musicians and she ran into the energetic young man again. He was always helpful with translations and sharing new music and local traditions. He seemed quite enamored with her, though he was probably barely 18. He was somewhat attractive with his well-kept raven hair and rich blue-violet eyes. The only unfortunate feature was that he seemed to be trying to grow a pointed mustache and goatee, which had not quite filled in in some places. He was a student of both the lute and violin (though that only recently), and had a lovely baritone singing voice.

About an hour before dark on Friday, Mira gathered up all of her small change and went to convert her coins. It suddenly occurred to her that she might be able to do so at a shop, one that dealt in both high and low priced goods, without paying commission. There were only a handful of places she could think of, and she couldn’t see the stuck-up owner of the Enchanting Lute helping her out. The smithy Enri was probably busy as always, and she was still unsure about the silver scale. That left John’s smithy, which seemed appropriate to her somehow. When she arrived, she discovered John was out and had been for several days. The quiet, red-headed apprentice was happy to make the exchange for her though.

As she leaves she decides to go to the silver scale again, just to see what more she can learn. She starts a little conversation with Serath, using her prior investigation of silver as a starting point. He admits there isn’t much else on the subject than what he has in the reference books but directs her to another place in the poor quarter. It’s called the Toad’s Toe. An eccentric old man named Rautant runs it, but he has the best library of magical and alchemical reference in town… He stays open odd hours too, even past dark. I guess he lives there, so he doesn’t have to worry about being out at night. Anyway, if you take a right at the block just south of here you’ll come to ‘Five Points’. That’s an intersection where five roads meet near the wall. Take the one that heads straight West. It will be the last place on your left, you can’t miss it. The bell at the door rings and Serath looks up. He tenses slightly and something in his eyes told her she should turn around. There in the doorway stood the man she had seen at the inn.

Glancing back and forth between the two, she realized they could hardly have been more alike. They were of a height with each other, probably half a head shorter than she, with the exact same angles and lines. The only difference seemed to be the length of their hair, and that the newcomer might have been a little younger. Is everything alright cousin? he said, and she nearly gasped aloud as he spoke in Silvanesti! The sound was almost a-tonal, as if all of the music had been stripped from it and had barely begun to creep back in. Taking a good look at his clothing she realized it too was from her native Krynn, though hopelessly out of style and bordering on ancient in human terms.
It’s alright, Merrick, Serath replied in elven; she was just asking about some reference materials. The newcomer nods and approaches the counter on the other side. I enjoy your music, Merrick said to her politely in Harmonian.


[OOC: your performance at the Amphitheatre was just for today, not a re-occurring gig. You can always apply to do more, but with the party assembling it might not be prudent to make long-range plans.

It is currently a little before dusk Friday 23rd, 736 and maybe a half hour before you typically start your evening performances at the Wayfarer’s Rest. If you want to gloss over this interaction for now a bit in order to get the party together, you can just make a list of things you’d like to do or ask/discuss with them. We’ll probably move you over to the main game thread after your next post. A full description of Merrick is now in the ‘Party Knowledge’ thread.]

==========
Mira wk 4, fri perf chk [1d20]=18, Amph perf chk [1d20] = 11. Friday fail, Saturday Amph pass!
Amph reputation check: need 5 or higher: 12, pass!

Mira earns 1 gp from the Amphitheatre performance (Hall cut does not apply)
Mira earns 36 sp(salary)+ 40sp 44cp (tips)= subtotal: 76 sp 44cp (804cp value)
Subtotal -25% (Hall fees)= total earnings: 1 gp, 60 sp, 3cp
Mira wk 4, 5 perf chks sun-thr [1d20] = 7[1d20] = 10[1d20] = 4[1d20] = 16[1d20] = 8 sun pass, mon pass, tues pass, wed fail, thr pass!

[Mira changes 227 sp, 30 cp for 23 gp at the Blacksmith. Total cash inventory: 16 stp, 25 gp, 8 sp, 3 cp]
[Mira gains 14% in her lang check to a total of 67%]
[Mira makes a ‘significant performance’ and passes her performance and reputation checks. Reputation index increases by 1 to a total of 6. Mira can now acquire ‘patrons’ who follow her performances.]

[Experience earned:
Performance before the board: 50 xp
Cantrip with the board: 5xp
Performance at the Amphitheatre: 100xp
She is now at 5,640/10,000

Yes she takes the wine, she was starting to accept the taste, even if it wasn't what she was used to.

---------------------

"Thank you" Mira responds to Merrick in Silvanesti, before switching to Harmonian again, "I aim to please." She adds with a grin, were they like the normal Silvanesti? But then... That out of date, who knew. "It appears we need to talk." Bowing she turns to leave the store. "Can we talk later? I have a show to do, but I would like to talk to you."

---------

Just a quick post here, she will talk to Merrick and Serath more when the time comes, and visit this Toad Toe. I have but one question, what is the young 18yr olds name?

[Ooc: Does the corner table imply she is back at the inn? As far as she can tell they are half elf Silvanesti. I'll get the young man's name up in the next post.]