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Noyte sings the next set along with the band, before quitting for the evening. The next performer is very good, and Noyte watches trying to pick up some pointers for when he might sing again. Too bad it's not a dead crowd tonight. I'm sure they would appreciate my songs. . Number: 718 Perform: Singing Between sets he walks about the place, asking for critiques, and song choices that he should learn, and if they have any mortally sick friends.
Noyte chooses to observe before choosing a side as well.
Now back to the concert. I'm sure they'll need my voice for the next set...
The gong sounds, just as the band was finishing up their first set, with a little number called "On the Wings of a Pegasus". Perform. The alcohol had the opposite effect on Noyte's performance than he thought it was, and he accidentally sang a verse of the similarly chorded "Lament for a Mother-in-law. He looked at Starla in panic at the sound of the gong. "Say Noyte". "Your voice is great and all, but usually the second set is a instrumental one". "You don't mind do you". Noyte with a grateful nod took off after the crowd, just in time to hear the end of the speech. After a moment he saw some of the people he talked to earlier battling a few rats, and began a warriors chant he learned early in his apprenticeship. Inspire courage to the group fighting the rat. "Rally round friends". "Let not this turmoil get you down". "Hear my voice, and rally together, and we shall defeat these scoundrels one and all". "And to top that offer off, I'll bring some help as well, and this ones on our side.
Noyte holds his Quarterstaff high, and sings a little tune under his breath.
Dire Rat
Spoiler: Summoned Creature: Dire Rat CR 1/3 N Small celestial/fiendish animal Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, scent; Perception +4 DEFENSE AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 11 (+3 Dex, +1 size)
OFFENSE Speed 40 ft., climb 20 ft., swim 20 ft.
STATISTICS Str 10 [14], Dex 17, Con 13 [17], Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 4
SPECIAL ABILITIES Disease (Ex) Filth fever: Bite—injury; save Fort DC 11 [13]; onset 1d3 days; frequency 1/day; effect 1d3 Dex damage and 1d3 Con damage; cure 2 consecutive saves. The save DC is Constitution-based.
Nyote closes his eyes as he sings, the music filling him. He can tell his performance is good. Though the song is easy, and does not have many chord changes, he is hitting every note. And the crowd must be enjoying it...they have grown silent. He opens one eye to peak at Starla wondering why she keeps trying to speed up the song...and sees the blank looks coming from the audience. Some of them are even beginning to scrowl...What...they don't like the songs. Then he realizes why. He doesn't know how to sing a happy song. As the song comes to an end he searches the crowd in desperation, and sees a woman talking to a catperson...a catperson Who would have thought. "You there," he states nodding at the pair. "Do you have any requests". He hears the band gasp behind him. Then seeing a nearly full glass of some amber fluid that has been abandoned, he throws back the fluid, gasping as the unfamiliar burn assaults his throat. As the band begins their next song he somehow finds his voice back after a couple of false starts. Perform
Noyte entered the common room, his nerves decidedly on edge. He was used to performing to a more...well...subdued audience. Still, since his well worn purse had been misplaced somewhere earlier today, he was lucky to have the opportunity to make a little coin. And his luck was heightened when he ran into the young woman earlier today, at a booth in the market that sold songs on parchment. "Are you sure you don't know of anybody that we could get to sing with us tonight"? "Wentzel will have his voice back soon I'm sure, we'd only need him for one night...two at the most". "Being asked to play at the Blue Macaw is a big deal for us". "I know we're only the opening act, but this could be our big break". The scrawny shopkeeper splayed his hands in dismay, and replied, "I'm sorry Starla". "With the festivities, every working artist in town is already booked, and quiet frankly, though your little band has potential, your name does not carry enough clout to pull someone away". "I am sorry". "Well thanks any Krankle". "You know how to find me if you run across anyone". Noyte decides to approach the young girl. "I'm sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear what you said". "Though I might not be familiar with your songs, I have been told that my voice is pleasant, and powerful". With that Noyte had a gig, and perhaps a way to earn a shelter for the night and a hot meal. He met with the girl, Starla, who played fiddle, and the other members, the percussionist Feldon, and a piper by the name of Morris. After spending most of the day practicing and learning the words to their songs, he was ready for his performance. His first time now singing a dirge, but for entertainment. As he entered the common room of the Blue Macaw, he spotted the remainder of the group gathered at a small table near the stage. Joining them he was informed that they were on in about 10-minutes. As he relaxed before the performance he thought back to the string of events that brought him here. He had been the Number one vocalist of the temple of Pharasma since he was 14. He had sang laments for the passing, and comfortable hymns for the survivors more times that could be counted. And he still found fulfillment in every one...but something was missing. The songs rang true, and stoked emotions, but they weren't perfect. Something was missing. He began speaking of this to the senior priests of the various temples throughout the land, and news of his quest spread among the clergy. Finally he was summoned to a meeting of the elders. The spoke of another place. A place where death was seen as a celebration of life, and where things were much different than they were here. It was revealed to him that the priests of Pharasma were to open the vaults to the dead in this strange place called Osirion, and that if it was his fate he might be admitted. Maybe there could he continue his search for the perfect dirge. Maybe there he could grasp a greater understanding of the afterlife. Maybe there he would meet his destiny". "Noyte"! "Noyte"! "Come on it's time", Starla urgently hissed in his ear. "Don't mess up". "And now ladies and gentlemen for your listening pleasure, might I introduce 'The Nightingales". Perform: sing
Dotting for interest. Some adjustments to be made...but concept is here.
Ah someday a kind GM will appreciate the subtle power of Noyte and accept him into a WofR game. In the meantime he'll compose ballads of what he imagines will happen. Have fun all.
Here is my Dirge Bard I developed for another WotR game that he didn't get in.
And now Noyte is updated with proper background.
By command performance I present.... Noyte Ruo |