“A bard has a lot of potential.” Arthur started, raising a brow as he watched the other. Arthur had zero interest in listening to the others life story. He just gave a faint shrug as he decided to start walking away. "You just sound like any other stereotypical cleric. What a waste.“
That was how Arthur would stop the others life story. He would simply walk away, and if Mihai really did plan to tell him anyway…
Well…
That person following him just moments ago won’t be the only one threatened by the Eldritch blast…
Oh.
Well, this wouldn’t be the first time this had happened (he wasn’t upset; no, definitely not), so Mihai just waved after Arthur as he walked away, unsure of whether or not Arthur wanted him to follow.
“Well, uh. Okay! Thanks for blasting that guy in the face! Maybe I’ll see you around soon?” Hopefully not. “Maybe then we can talk about my theory of the source of magical power in mortal races!” Which was only half-finished and currently still collecting dust in his old desk at the Bard’s College, where he forgot it.
“I have a shop in this district, if you ever want to visit some time! Look for the goofy little puppet theater -- it’s the building right behind it.”
“Oh.” Arthur scowled. Oh well, perhaps when he was done with the castle and was the one sitting on that throne, he could change these Queensguards to officially be called Blackcloaks. It was a far better, more frightful name.
He listened closely to Mihai’s words, but Arthur also wasn’t worried at all. He was an elf, and not some disgusting half breed one either. He wondered if that could lure him closer to that Crowned Princess in desire to overthrow.
His devious thoughts were broken when the other began to talk about the mugging, which left Arthur absolutely stunned on how SOMEONE could bring that up so casually. Was he serious? Had one of these muggings cause the man a concussion or brain damage?
“Bloody hell, now see, if you can just learn to shoot magic into someone’s face, they’ll leave you alone and you won’t have your nose broken." Bards were pretty dangerous fighters if they put themselves in that mind-set. Perhaps it benefit Arthur that this bard feared him and was… queer.
Mihai only shrugged and waved his hand as flippantly as he could, fiddling with the strap of the harp case slung over his shoulder.
“I know a couple spells! Like Cure Wounds and Mend! I use those a lot. Technically, I can cast Minor Illusion and Faerie Fire, but I haven’t found a use for those yet. Actually I,” he chuckled, a little nervously, and scratched the back of his neck, “I studied Magical Theorum at the university in Bolincari, for a little bit!” Before he transferred to the Bard’s College and was promptly expelled, that is -- but he didn’t bother to mention that.
He grinned and rubbed his hands together, a sure sign that he was about to go off on a tangent about his studies very soon; Arthur had better stop him, or else he wouldn’t shut up for at least an hour, probably longer.
Ah, the fear this bard had for him already. It sent a warm feeling in his chest. He could definitely get use to this fear. Perhaps Arthur would just have to torment him by visiting him again.
So Arthur decided to humour himself, following the bard around the city as he began to explain areas that really are of no importance to Arthur. Poorer districts? Easily destroyed into piles of rubble once he becomes the ruler. Sintlaas Broadwen? The bars would definitely be some of Arthur’s favourite places to go, that’s for sure. Perhaps he should go there and get a drink for himself later.
The board? Of no importance. Not until he decides to manipulate his way into the eyes of fools like this bard here.
“Blackcloaks?” Arthur inquired, raising a brow as he listened to what the other spoke of. He just chuckled, giving a faint little shrug. It was obvious Arthur had no concern at all about these Blackcloaks. Sounds like his group of people. He stared at the two spires, but he showed no interests in that, it seemed. Bahamut? Erathis? Such useless deities. They’d be better off converted into temples for Tharizdun and his dearest Vecna.
“Perhaps in the future, I shall visit them.”
Mihai’s face was deathly serious all of a sudden, lips pursed and brows furrowed, at the mention of the Blackcloaks. It was an unsettling expression on someone who was normally so chipper.
“Aye, Blackcloaks. Don’t let them catch you calling them that, though -- they’re officially called the Queensguard, and they like to remind people of that,” he glanced over his shoulder and around the street, just to be sure there weren’t any of those tell-tale black and gold cloaks in question -- which was a futile effort, considering it was a rare and solemn occasion when one of them came this far into ‘dirty poor people’ territory, “though considering the Crown Princess isn’t quite the queen yet, you could call them the Regentsguard. I only know that they’re the crown’s personal attack dogs and don’t take kindly to the less fair races. Though, I hear they’re a little fractured since the Crown Princess and King Regent have been arguing a lot.”
“You should be fine, though -- people of the Fair Folk are alright in the eyes of the crown, I guess.” His nose wrinkled as his fingers curled in air quotes around the word ‘fair’.
“Oh, hey! I got mugged here! Twice, actually!” He pointed to a nearby alleyway, squinting a little as if searching for something. “There might still be a bloodstain from where they broke my nose, I think!”
Arthur stood there, watching his work’s effect. He watched as the largest member fell back from the blast, sliding his hands into his pockets. It hardly took much time at all for everyone to scatter, leaving Arthur there alone with the terrified bard.
It was pathetic, hearing the Bard talk, and so Arthur turned back to face him. “Silence.” He barked, “You see how simple that was? A simple action to show you’re more powerful than them will make them stay back.” Arthur reached a hand out, but luckily it wasn’t to Eldritch blast Mihai in the face. Nah, Arthur was kind in a sense, and just patted Mihai’s shoulder.
“Now, why don’t you tell me a bit about this city. I’m afraid I’m fairly new here and it would be lovely to learn about it.”
He didn’t -- he didn’t wince away from Arthur’s hand at all. Nope. Absolutely not. If you asked him about it he would deny it to his dying day -- which, coincidentally, might be coming very soon.
“Well, actually, I’m not from-- you know what? It’s fine. This is fine. I’ll be more than happy to show you around.” Mostly out of fear. Entirely out of fear. He knew his way around enough to give Arthur a vague map of the important parts of the city and it’s poorer districts, at least. Still a little shell-shocked from seeing someone get blown off their gods damned feet, he proceeded to continue walking to the main thoroughfare of the district, occasionally pointing to landmarks or important streets and what have you.
“This is Sintlaas Broadwen. There’s a lot of shops and bars along this way, and if you keep going north you’ll come to the district’s guard post -- there’s a board outside with bounties and such. Can’t miss it, but I’d avoid any Blackcloaks you see along the way -- they’re not particularly hospitable to newcomers. Keep going along the Broadwen and you’ll reach the next district, but I don’t know much about it.” He pointed again, towards two towering white spires that just barely managed to peek out over the tops of the nearby buildings. “Dunno if you came in by sea or not, but those are the Towers of Bahamut and Erathis. I have no idea what they’re for, but if you’ve got the chance, you should visit them! They’re nice to look at.”
Oh Mihai, you poor, innocent Bard. Follow those instincts, because they will probably spare you from witnessing this again in the future. Now you’ll be experiencing a taste of Neutral Evil.
“Oh, of course. A very brief conversation.” Arthur chuckled softly, giving the other a smile that might be a bit… too kind. The first thing he did was chant “Hex” after he peeked over his shoulder, pointing a finger towards the closest person. A hex in order to cause disadvantage towards what he would do next.
“Eldritch Blast.” He chanted. Arthur quickly turned around towards where these guys were, and as if he was throwing a rock at the enemy he threw the Eldritch blast straight at the hexed target. That smile became far more malicious now, because Arthur really had no mercy for what he had just done.
“SWEET BAHAMUT’S SCALY BALLS.” That was not what he was expecting and not at all what he wanted. At the first sign of trouble, all four people in the group immediately attempted to scatter, before the largest of their number was promptly blown off his feet by a blast of dark, eldritch energy from Arthur’s hand, left groaning and only semi-conscious on the pavement while their friends looked on in horror.
Whatever plans they had for Mihai were promptly abandoned by the rest of the group, along with their friend, as they skittered in different directions and ducked into nearby alleys, disappearing into the shadows and leaving Mihai with a profound sense of horror and awe.
“Okay this isn’t what I meant but I guess this is fine too please don’t hurt me I’m sorry for bothering you--” please have mercy on him, he’s just a sweet, gentle lad.
“Do you really need a stranger to laugh to stop someone from following you?” Arthur smirked, soon giving a faint little chuckle. This poor, pathetic bard… "You know, there’s a very simple solution to this.“
Arthur smirked, stopping his walk. He slipped his hands into his pockets, a devious look on his face as he turned to Mihai. "Do you want me to make these people stop following you? I have to say, I am pretty decent at talking to someone to make them not follow me. Do you want to learn how?”
“Uhm. I mean -- I would prefer -- to not be confrontational.” Lord howdy, this guy gave Mihai a distinct feeling of unpleasantness, and the ‘I am about to do something that belongs on the bottom right of the alignment chart and you will not like it’ expression on his face wasn’t helping.
“If-- I guess if you’re just -- going to have a conversation? That’s fine too. Just please make them go away. I like my harp and I don’t want them to have it.” He also liked not being beaten up, but as a bard, that was pretty much out of the question, so he’d take what he could get.
So Arthur had been in this part of town for perhaps a day and already some random weirdo looped their arms together. He was sweating too. Gross. His expression was odd, tight and awkward like the bard beside him had probably met Poison Spray right at his stupid face. Arthur expected nothing less when the bard spoke.
Was he serious?
Arthur uttered not a word as the other began to tell an absurd joke, and of course Arthur didn’t laugh at all. Instead he just gave the other the strangest look ever. "I beg your pardon?“ He started, finally breaking his silence. "I don’t know what you’re doing but this is utterly ridiculous.”
Fuck.
“You’re not laughing,” and now Mihai was starting to panic, oh no. “Look, okay, I may or may not,” he glanced over his shoulder, came to some kind of conclusion, and began to walk even faster, “there’s a bunch of guys behind me and I’m really scared of being mugged again and I don’t have any money for them to take so they might take my harp or something and that’d make me really sad so could you please at least pretend to know me because that might make them go away?”
He inhaled sharply, needing a bit of air after his spiel, and wiped his hand on his coat in attempt to get rid of the insane amount of sweat on his palms.
“Just until the end of the street or, like, when we see a crowd of people! Then you’ll never see me again! I promise!”
He’s just going to saddle up beside Arthur, a person he’s never met, and loop their arms together, totally nonchalant and not at all suspicious. There’s more than a little sweat beading on his brow as he glances out of the corner of his eye and gives his new buddy a tight smile that’s all teeth and nervousness.
“Quick, act like my friend and laugh at my jokes,” his voice is just barely above a whisper, “please, in Bahamut’s name.” And he’s walking brusquely now, trying to avoid whoever was tailing him as best as he could and speaking a little too loudly.
“And then I said, ‘what do you mean that’s not your mother? It looks just like her!’“
“Uh, yeah, y’know… I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that and… I mean I’ve heard some bards before so I know you’re good at it.” Mogens didn’t really know what to do with Mihai. He couldn’t tell if Mihai was embarrassed or enthusiastic about the compliment.
He winced as the harp string snapped, “you… doing okay there?”
“Uhm,” Mihai wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away or answer Mogens’ question. Probably a bit of both, if he was being totally honest with himself. Instead of doing either, he tried his best to look at small as possible, outright hiding behind his harp and turning progressively darker shades of red as time went on.
“Th-thank you! Okay bye!” Gathering up his hat at lightening speed (it was amazing that he didn’t lose any of his money with how quickly he snatched it up) he bolted out the tavern doors, leaving them wide open as he burnt rubber down the street.
“I think you might have thrown him for a loop, friend,” the bartender said, seemingly totally unfazed by the whole thing.
Mogens laughed lightly at the bartender, “good - maybe it’ll give you a break from him for a little while. He might be too afraid to stop by for a few days. He wasn’t bad, though.”
“Uh, yeah, y’know… I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that and… I mean I’ve heard some bards before so I know you’re good at it.” Mogens didn’t really know what to do with Mihai. He couldn’t tell if Mihai was embarrassed or enthusiastic about the compliment.
He winced as the harp string snapped, “you… doing okay there?”
“Uhm,” Mihai wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away or answer Mogens’ question. Probably a bit of both, if he was being totally honest with himself. Instead of doing either, he tried his best to look at small as possible, outright hiding behind his harp and turning progressively darker shades of red as time went on.
“Th-thank you! Okay bye!” Gathering up his hat at lightening speed (it was amazing that he didn’t lose any of his money with how quickly he snatched it up) he bolted out the tavern doors, leaving them wide open as he burnt rubber down the street.
“I think you might have thrown him for a loop, friend,” the bartender said, seemingly totally unfazed by the whole thing.
Mogens never really agreed to this particular song - killing a dragon and her kids actually seemed rather mean - but at this point, he wasn’t about to interrupt the boy. He continued at his drink, trying to ignore the melody as much as possible. He would rather have something he could at least try to follow. This song was entirely foreign to him, weirdly enough.
When the song was finished, he rose to leave, offering the bartender a nice tip for having to deal with this boy. “Hey kid… you uh, you’re pretty good at that, y’know?” he forced out a compliment, despite his quiet nature.
The bartender only sighed wearily and gave Mogens a small nod in acknowledgment, pocketing his tip with the bare hint of a smile and returning to cleaning steins.
At being complimented, (or the rough approximation of a Mogens compliment) Mihai blinked owlishly up at Mogens, face steadily turning a shade of red that should be impossible for most human beings and gripping his harp so hard that one of the strings snapped with a sound not unlike an agitated duck.
Toris laughed a little quietly at the other’s enthusiasm. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. “Excellent.” he stated, slinging his own pack over his shoulder, and walking out of the shop.
“I hope you’re good with roughing it out in the wild. I’ll be looking for small creatures out in the forest.” he stated, pulling out his map and showing where they’ll be.
Roughing it? No. But he won’t complain a lick when they’re out there, if only because he had an unfounded fear that Toris would hate him forever if he was too obnoxious during their little excursion.
Unfortunately, being obnoxious was in his nature.
“Sure! I’ve roughed it a couple times!” No he hasn’t. “Also, how small are we talking about? Will we need nets, or ropes? ... Can I eat them?” Mihai, please.
Blinking, Gilbert looked over to him and promptly did a double-take. “Hey, forget about that! Th’ fuck happened to you, huh?” He reached out to put a hand on top of Mihai’s head, leaning in a bit to take a more critical look at his nose. Gilbert couldn’t care less about his cloak getting dirty - wouldn’t be the first time he got blood on it, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last - which made the bleeding guy far more of a priority at the moment.
“Kesesese, you shouldn’t be askin’ about me when you look like you slammed a door an’ the door slammed back~” Assuming the guy doesn’t squirm away, Gilbert tilts his head forward before reaching out to pinch his nose shut, trying to stem the flow of blood.
He blinked owlishly at the guy he ran into, sniffing and wiping blood away from his top lip.
“Uh,” he sputtered, spitting blood and maybe a part of his tooth off to the side when the opportunity presented itself, “got mugged! It’s no big deal. Are you sure you don’t want me to help with that cloak? I’d feel bad if it ended up stained because I raYAOWCH!”
Mihai outright whined when Gilbert pinched his nose, hands coming up to his face and stopping just short of Gilbert’s wrist. He flapped his hands around instead of pulling Gilbert’s arm away, attempting to not be too much of a pest about it when pinching his nose sent fresh waves of pain to the back of his eyes.
“Well sure, if you want to come along.” he stated. When the other leaned in, he also leaned in to speak, listening closely before responding. “Oh–well, I’d like to avoid killing the creatures if we can. Though, worst case scenario, I suppose you can take some parts to sell for alchemical purposes.”
He straightened up, letting out a bit of a sigh. “Do try to pack a little light. We won’t be in the forest for too long. In fact, I intend to return to Hallbach after I find what I’m looking for.”
He deflated a little, but it was very quickly replaced by an exuberant vault over the shop counter and a manic search for his travel bag. He could find stuff to sell that wasn’t critter parts, probably -- and friendship was infinitely more valuable than material wealth anyways!
Except friendship wouldn’t exactly pay for his next meal. But he’d worry about that later.
Gilbert hadn’t been in Hallbach for very long, but he was already a big fan of the place. Not only was it the biggest city he’s ever seen, he could find four different taverns within an hour, easy! There was even that super-cool Tower of Bahamut here! Yet, that cleric he’d brought to the city hadn’t been acting like it was a great place to be. That nagged at Gilbert at first as he wandered around the city, but after sightseeing for a while, he managed to mostly forget about it.
Except… he’d wandered into a rougher-looking part of Hallbach now, and it had taken him a while to even realize it. All the houses and stores here looked run-down and dirty, a lot more like the poor, tiny villages Old Fritz made a habit of helping out. It felt weird to see it in the middle of an otherwise prosperous-looking place. Damn, was that why the cleric had been so concerned? That nagging was back with a vengeance now, like having a little bird pecking at the back of his head.
Mihai groaned as he stumbled out of the alley, wiping at his nose and feeling more than a little woozy when he found his hand absolutely slick with blood. If his nose wasn’t broken, he’d eat his hat. Which was-- he felt around the top of his head -- currently not on his person, at the moment. It must have fallen off somewhere between the act of being jumped in an alley and scrambling to get to a more populated street. That was fine. He could deal with that. His missing purse, however, was another thing entirely.
He didn’t mean to bump into Gilbert on the way out, but it was hard not to when he was stumbling around so much. He mumbled something only vaguely coherent, rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, and blinked blearily at whoever he’d bumped into, realizing belatedly that he’d gotten his nice, blue cloak a bit dirty with muck and blood, which was more than a little unfortunate.
“I-- Shit, sorry! Lemme just--” He gripped his shirt in an attempt to try and wipe the stain away, before quickly figuring out that wouldn’t work because his own shirt was also filthy, “oh. Yeah, that won’t work. You’re really pale, are you okay?”
“What’s ‘Snuffed the Magic Dragon’ supposed to be?” Mogens was genuinely curious. He’d frequented enough inns and bars in his travels to know plenty of songs, though he wasn’t a bard. That one was new to him, though.
Mogens signaled the bartender for another drink, waiting for Mihai to continue.
“Oh! It’s about a band of adventurers that go to a dragon’s lair to fetch a magic sword and end up slaughtering her and her children. It’s a little morbid. But the tune is very nice!” He cleared his throat and strummed his harp a few times to get a feel for the melody, before beginning to sing.
“We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
We wounded her with shiny swords, threw some fiery rounds
She bellowed out an angry cry and burrowed underground.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
The wizard turned into a giant, and pummeled the dragon's hide.
The warriors swung their mighty swords, and even fought inside.
The chain swinging fatso, grabbed her by the toe
And saved the burly paladin from a horrible munching blow.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
Evenlow the sorceror fizzled several spells,
He shook his fist, leaned right back and cursed the dragon well.
Up an icy column, the bard was climbing high
Pulling out the fabled sword that was stashed before his time.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
Some might call us murderers, breakers of the fam,
So our victorious band of heroes are going on the lam,
Fleeing fast and furious back to save the day,
We proudly hoist the missing sword and singing all the way, say:
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel.
We snuffed the magic dragon, smote her kids in two,
Stuck her with some pointy sticks and covered her with fuel!”
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