Darsten Meredith's page

Darsten hears the Elven man ramble away about hunting for treasure as he finishes up a song. Then, amongst the (limited yet increasing) applause from the crowds, he hears the Elf's positive remark about his playing and smiles at him. And then Darsten feels his eye twitch.
"Ah, yeah, uh... don't worry about the eye, sir, that happens from time to time, just one of these things." he explains.

After pausing for a moment, Darsten approaches the booth.
"Well, I see from your clothes and hear from the tale you told you've been on adventure recently. A Pathfinder, am I right?"
Darsten quickly points out scorch marks on his lute, and some tearing of his cloak.
"Fire damage. Went through unbearably hot conditions for an important Society mission. Extreme temperatures, dangerous monsters. Had to fight some creature clad in strange armour. Oh, you should've seen my shoulder at the end of that battle, tor- er, on second thoughts, I don't want to put you off your drink!"

The bartender, having just brought more wine for the Elf, gives Darsten a dirty look before returning to the counter. Except he turns around before reaching it.
"You're pretty good. Keep it up!" the bartender says to Darsten.

The Nagaji bard grins.

A reply! For a while there I thought this thread was just going to get completely ignored, but nope, someone else has joined in. Awesome! Anyway...

Darsten suddenly springs awake from the daze he had inexplicably entered, having heard someone crash into the nearby booth. Looking to his right, Darsten sees it was an Elven man in fancy garments, who has now managed to sit himself up.
"You alright?" Darsten calls out as he casually strums his lute, surprised to hear everything now sounds right. He must've spent the past few moments tuning the instrument, he just doesn't remember doing it!

The bartender moves to the booth to bring the Elven man the wine he desires.
"I'm good to go." Darsten whispers to the bartender.
"Wha- oh, right, your lute, er... fine, go ahead, but if you're no good I'll throw you out right away."

Darsten clears his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for your evening pleasure, I shall play some much-beloved classics. Enjoy."
Perform (String Instruments) (Taking 10): 10 + 7 = 17
Darsten is able to put in a decent enough performance. His lute playing is relatively accomplished, his singing pleasant to hear. A few patrons clap and cheer after some songs have been played.
"Thank you! Thank you!"

(Posting on this site for the first time! So, as far as I can tell, in this area of the messageboards it's possible to just make up in-character situations for the sake of roleplaying? Cool. Well, here goes...)

The clouds above darken, and rain begins to fall upon the tattered hood of a green-grey scaled Nagaji man. He stands before a small tavern, staring at the sign gently swaying in the wind.
"The Corn & Cob Taverne? What kind of name is that?" he mutters and shakes his head before entering.

He shakes himself dry before ignoring the stares of some of the patrons and approaching the bar.
"What can I get you?" the youngish man in charge of the establishment does not even look up from the counter he seems intent on scrubbing into spotlessness, when he asks. It is only after some moments of nonresponse he peeks up, to be met by the Nagaji's curious glance.

The Nagaji unfurls a parchment from his loose dark clothing and shows it to the bartender.
"I understand your establishment needs some sort of entertainment act." The Nagaji's voice is less accented and far more... smooth than anyone would've guessed.
"...Yes-"
The Nagaji clears his throat.
"Well then, you are in luck. You can call me Darsten. I am a travelling troubadour, you might say... I sing, play the lute, tell jokes, do comedy routines, er, anything your tavern needs!" he chuckles.

The bartender sighs. "Look, I just need someone who can play a musical instrument to provide some background ambience for the pub. That is all. You said you play the lute?"
"Yes!" Darsten retrieves the lute that's strapped to his back. His trustworthy lute of many years, looking particularly worn and - peculiarly, at least to the bartender - scorched. Darsten strums a couple of notes, but something sounds off.
"Ah, er, I'll need to tune it! Heh heh..."

The bartender merely grumbles.