Where Strands Converge

[Bravve]

Once more, the door opens, and a figure steps inside, clad in a patchwork of rich, vibrant fabrics that shimmer with movement and purpose.
A white mask conceals his face, etched with crimson markings that curve like laughter frozen in porcelain. Bells softly chime as he moves.
Across his back rests an ornate lute of gold and jewels, its black strings gleaming unnaturally, catching the light more vividly than the gems set into its frame.
He steps forward into the glow, spreading his arms wide in a grand, welcoming gesture, and calls out his voice bright, musical, and impossible to ignore.
“Hello, my friends! Your friendly bard and jester has come to embrace your hearts! You may, for the time being, call me Seraphine Vox.”
He pauses for a few seconds, waiting for applause, then continues:
Would you like to hear a story beyond your wildest dreams, listen to music from a fallen kingdom of old or perhaps witness a few magic tricks?”
A silver ball appears in his hand. Then another. And another. With each new one, he tosses them into the air, beginning to juggle, until seven silver balls dance above him.
Then, from nowhere, he produces a pitch-black dagger, a sickly aura radiating from its blade, and sends it spinning to join the circle.
After a few rounds, he plucks one ball away… then another… until only three silver balls remain, alongside the dagger, still spinning in the air.

With a snap of his fingers, everything vanishes but the dagger. He laughs, light and musical.
Seraphine Vox turns it slowly, the sickly glow reflecting in the red lines of his mask.
“For every song remembered, a kingdom is forgotten,” he murmurs.
He slides the dagger away and finally meets your gaze. “Ah! Forgive me,” he says, tapping the mask. “I do get carried away when the audience looks so promising.”

He walks to the most open space and once more open his arms "Any requests?"

Seraphine.png

[RaistlinMC]

Brüna's eyes brighten at the sight of the young human who'd entered not so long ago.

"Beautiful," the dwarf murmurs reverently. She stands and moves toward the newcomer as if drawn by a magnetic force.

"Jus'...jus' beautiful," she repeats, though as she nears Seth, it becomes clear that she isn't speaking to the long-haired human at all.

"Tha's a helluva hammer ya got yerself there, stranger," the warrior says, pointing unnecessarily at Mr. Wyndham's weapon. "Not many folken like ta wade inta battle w' a hammer, I've found, but you'n'me? Kindred spirits an' all that."

With that, Brüna raises her own hammer - a magically-imbued weapon if there ever was one - and adds, "Mine's named Vorbyx. How 'bout yours? Got a name?"

---

A moment later, when the bard asks for requests, the dwarf turns and pipes up, "Aye! Ya don't happen ta know 'The Bear an' th' Maiden Faire, do ya?"

[Bravve]

Vox grins, the lute begins with a bright, bouncing rhythm, simple and catchy, made for clapping hands and stomping feet. “Ah… a tale of fur and foolish hearts.”
“Now this one wants weight.” Vox slightly adjusting his grip on the lute as the rhythm shifts heavier. The strings ring out deeper, rougher and a driving rhythm meant for voices to join in!

“A bear there was, a bear, a bear
Black as soot and thick with hair
From mountain pass to valley fair
He roamed alone, that iron bear!”

He leans into the next line with voice fuller, roughened:

“The drums did roll, the ale did pour
The hearth-fire roared on oaken floor
The folk all called from hall and door
‘Come drink wi’ us, we’ll pour ye more!’”

A heavier strum, like hammer on anvil:

“A maiden fair wi’ braids of gold
With eyes like fire and spirit bold
She laughed too loud, or so we’re told
And grabbed his paw with grip like hold!”

The tempo rises:

“‘Come dance!’ she cried, ‘ye shaggy brute!’
He huffed and growled, ‘I’m no such lute!’
She kicked his shin wi’ iron boot
‘Then move yer feet, or I’ll refute!’”

Laughter in his tone, rhythm thick and rowdy:

“They stomped the boards, they shook the stone
Tankards rang and voices roared
‘A fine knight you are!’ the crowd all groaned
‘Nay!’ he roared back, ‘I stand alone!’”

He slams a chord, louder:

“‘I’m fur and fang! I’m claw and snare!’
She laughed and pulled him through the air
‘Then be all that and still take care
To dance wi’ me, ye mountain bear!’”

The music dips, slower, deeper:

“The night grew long, the fire burned low
The embers dimmed in crimson glow
What passed between, no dwarf can know
But songs remember what they show…”

Then back, strong and proud:

“So raise yer mugs and fill the air
Sing loud o’ beast and maiden fair
For in the hall or anywhere
There’s room enough for one more bear!”

He ends with a heavy final chord, letting it echo like a struck bell through stone halls.
Vox gives a small bow “A simple song” he says amused. “But the classics endure for a reason.”

[RaistlinMC]

With a draining swig from her mug and a lopsided grin flashed at Vox, the dwarven warrior - Brüna Fordham to her friends, Brüna Battlehammer to her foes - hollers out, "Ahhh...now tha's th' stuff! Hear, hear!"