@speaking-through-strings
Of all the nations in Valoran, Demacia had to be Rakan's least favorite. It was so boring, all clean and safe and nondescript. Even the buildings, which Rakan considered an eyesore to begin with, were extra-bland. Nothing but white, featureless stone as far as the eye could see. Boring, boring, boring.
But somehow, the Vastayan had found himself here, in one of the large cities that composed the horridly dull country. Even the bustle of the citizens seemed muted, somehow; Rakan briefly considered doing something, anything, to stir up some action- but the sight of some nearby guards and their not-so-horribly-dull swords was enough to belay that thought.
Maybe if he wandered far enough, he could find a less perfect side of the city. One where there might be taverns... And parties! Just the thought of breathing a little life into the boring citizens of Demacia was enough to motivate him. There'd be wine! And women! And most importantly, music!
... Music. Rakan paused in both his thoughts and his steps, feathered ears perking; he wasn't imagining it, there was music coming from someplace nearby. Here? In this city? He had to find the source immediately. Preferably before the boring facade of this awful city somehow managed to snuff the creativity of whatever being was making that beautiful sound.
Finding the source of the tune proved to be a simple enough task, given the sizeable crowd that had gathered to listen. Rakan pushed his way through to the front of the group, paying little notice to the resulting complaints as he took in the sight before him.
A blue-haired woman, pretty good-looking for a human, with an instrument whose appearance- like its sound- was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Her skill with the device was evident in the way her fingers danced across the strings. The sight of it made Rakan want to dance along, to match the quick and delicate movements- and, being the master of poor impulse control, that's exactly what he did.
He cut in beside the woman and her instrument, flashing her his signature charming (roguelike, dashing!) smile as he moved in time with the melody. If the audience wanted a show, that's what they were getting.
