AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

A lovely woman in a long black skirt and white linen top can be seen tuning a lute not far form the Cordor Gates to the Frontier. She sets down a collection plate, hopeful to earn some coin with her musical talents. After brushing back a lock of hair from her eyes, she notices a small statured person walking toward the gate. With a warm smile and a twinkle of her vibrant green eyes, she asks if he would like to hear a song. By the time she has finished her question, two larger men have now come by. They all agree to listen. With a wink, and a flirty smile, the woman begins to sing a song about drinking, wine, ale, and spirits. Throughout the performance, two of the men place gold on her collection plate, to which they receive wither winks, smiles or a blown kiss, while the performer never misses a beat. Once she has finished singing, the performer introduces herself simply as "Vicky" and hearing how the men are about to embark on a dangerous adventure, sings a quick verse to strengthen their resolve for victory. She then packs up her plate, and gold, and lute, and finds another spot to perform in.

Quote:

OOC--The previous was taken from actual in-game events

A scantily clad woman in purple, white and black, periodically comes out of the Merchant Hall and announces to any that will listen about the sale of rings going on inside. If questioned, she simply says she's helping a friend sell his wares. This same woman can be seen, a very large grin on her face, skipping out of the Merchant Halls an hour later. She is wearing new bracelets and perhaps a different belt than before.

A lovely young woman sits on a bench near the statue of the Duke in Cordor. She has a journal on her lap, and a lute sits next to her on the bench. Occasionally, she touches the quill she writes with to her lips and seems to look off into the distance. With a sudden twinkle of her eyes, she will then write a few lines in the journal. Periodically, she will pick up the lute and strum a little, while humming a melody or singing a few words. A few times, she scrunches her nose, and scribbles out a line or two, other times, she smiles and continues forward in her writing. Anyone passing by would get a casual smile of greeting, and might hear a word or two of what she's writing, but nothing intelligible.

After a short time in the tailor's, a lovely young woman is seen speaking with a dark skinned woman in red, and a large man with a greatsword strapped to his back. After some chatting, and smiling, she goes over toward the statue in front of the Temple of Waukeen and sets out a collection plate. She then pulls out a lute and begins to sing a song. During the song, she makes gestures and eye contact with two people who, presumably play parts in the actions taking place within the song. Another man, with well worn clothing and gear strides up and stops to listen as well. After the performance, she bows, thanks those that listened, picks up her collection plate and after a few words to the man in worn clothing, retreats into the Temple of Waukeen.

Victoria can be seen sitting near the bridge in Cordor, sprawled out on the cobblestones. She looks a bit distraught, and tired. There are crumpled papers all around her and she can be heard extolling expletives from time to time. Her hair has fallen from it's neat normal placement, and her fingers have ink stains on them. Her lute sits next to her and she often picks it up, strums a few chords, then puts it back down.

After hours of frustration and piles of crumpled papers, Victoria sits, looking quite dejected on the ground in Cordor. A strand of her hair falls into her face, and with just a simple puff of air from the corner of her mouth, she attempts to move it. This doesn't work and the strand falls lightly over her face again. She instinctively uses her left hand to push it over her ear, smearing ink on her forehead in the process. She looks at her hand, realizes what she has done and slumps.

She twirls the quill in her fingers for several minutes, then suddenly looks up, her eyes twinkling. A smile comes over her face and she frantically reaches for a non-crumpled piece of paper to write on. After furiously writing and humming and a little singing for several minutes, she holds up the paper and blows on it to dry the ink. With a smile she reads her handiwork.

She then collects all her crumpled piles of paper, deposits them in the nearest barrel and heads off to bathe.

[Cordor, IC]

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