Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Sept 3, 2015 21:27:02 GMT -6
The bottom of her tankard was empty now. She couldn't stop staring at how empty the cup had become; after all, what is empty has no more meaning, and once something has no meaning anymore, one gets rid of it.
Sarea's songs meant nothing anymore. Her lyrics of jolly days with friends were empty. Her sonnets and soliloquies, without emotion. Her dances and smiles were a mask. Her voice...
Not a note to be heard.
Winter had taken its toll on her, and while she did work to complete what she expected was to be her final quest, too much had transpired for her to warm up inside again. Taverns were her only home, and even then she was often removed for a few days by the inkeepers' requests for more coin. She took to the streets and made what she could, wearing a mask for those who would pay to hear her dissonant voice hardly croak out a few verses of song. It wasn't only bardic performances that earned her coin, though, in the rest of the months. Black market trades. Smuggling. Hits. Hexes. Prostitution. She even had to remove her own hair for an old French woman who, for some reason, had been doing it for years.
Summer was soon over, and with winter fast approaching once more, she knew that this would be her only opportunity to complete what she started, and bring the Raven to justice.
Or, at least, bring herself to Faljere so that he may forgive her for her treason.
A barmaid--one of the ones that Sarea had had to please some time ago--took her tankard for a refill, but not before stroking the girl's short hair and pinching her right breast. As the maid left, Sarea put her head on her table and began to weep. In these hard times, she hoped that someone might be able to console her once more. Show her why she was once merry and gay.