Thread: Pynti-Peldot

Name Nickname Brynne daughter of Bastian. Race Human. Attire Black, empire-waisted, long-sleeved dress with red and gold trim black leather boots. Weapon Dagger . Location Pynti-Peldot inside the Inn of the Snowy Eagle. Tagging Anyone Celeste, Vaemyr, Teemu, Bremven. Time TA 3018, March 1, evening. The sounds echoed off the walls, that haunting melody filling the room as The Snowy Eagle's patrons gathered closer to the man responsible for the pretty tunes that had entranced them all. Like a piper beckoning his flock to follow, nearly all--even the most brutish of men--were transfixed upon this strange man whose fingers deftly played the flute he held so easily. All of them swayed and whispered, clearly taken with this interesting form of entertainment. But Brynne could only hear the sounds now as the giant Lossoth pushed and shoved at her tiny frame, careless and selfish as they moved to get closer still and enjoy this atypical amusement that was most certainly causing a stir, waking and riling the blood of all who listened. Brynne scowled as she rubbed her side, the sting of the jab slowly ebbing into a dull ache. How she longed to watch, to see the man play. It brought her comfort, reminded her of home, her family... of Dale. She enjoyed music--always had--and it wakened the memories of long ago, times of comfort and safety when she sat along side her parents and listened to many a tale and many a tune. How she missed them--her mother, her father. Fighting back the tears, Brynne tried to peek around a Lossoth who barred the way. But it was no use. With a heavy sigh, she resigned herself to her fate. She would get no further enjoyment this night and the tiny peek she'd gotten was all that she'd be granted. It was cruel and so very unfair! As her face grew hot, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, her dark eyes catching a glimpse of Vaemyr as he neared. She smiled weakly, trying to emanate the strength the ex-guard claimed to see. But it was no use. She wasn't feeling strong any longer. Instead she felt like the out of place warmlander she knew she was and always had been since arriving in Pynti-Peldot despite the kindnesses she'd been shown. I cannot see... Brynne began to answer Vaemyr, her words clipped as the music suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening before being broken by a shout, a roar so loud Brynne felt a shiver run along her spine at the call. She bit down on her lower lip, her hand immediately reaching to tug on her dark hair falling in massive waves over her shoulders. Her heart began to race as the crowd suddenly parted, a Lossoth falling with a grunt and a thud causing her to both wince and take a tiny step backwards. Her dark eyes turned toward Vaemyr, brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what was happening and why. Swallowing hard, her mouth dry as the ashy wastes of Mordor, she turned back toward the parting sea of patrons. There before her stood the flutist, his eyes half crazed, wild with a frenzy of emotion she couldn't read or interpret. I... Brynne stammered, her dark eyes locked to the piper's as he collapsed to his knees before her. She quickly glanced at Vaemyr and then back over at the piper. Unsure of what to do, she let instinct take over. Curtsying, she smiled, her trembling hands reaching to clutch her black skirts to help still them. As she averted her eyes, her body lowering slightly as she curtsied, she could feel her cheeks warming. Her mouth still dry, she licked her lips and dared to peer out at the strange flutist before her just before rising back up to full height. You... you play beautifully, she said, the smile still tugging at the soft corners of her lips. I am Brynne, daughter of Bastian of Dale, sir. She bit down on her lower lip, a shaking hand--though she tried to hide her nervousness--moving to tug on a stray dark curl. Fearing she'd said too much, she nodded her head, a soft sound passing over her lips as she shifted her stance. But once again her eyes found his--that strange piper's who had bewitched the crowd with his playing--her expression soft, full of uncertainty as she looked upon him, her mind wondering just what sorts of tales he had to tell.