ArmageddonMUD Roleplaying - Logs

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You think:
     "Let's see if I can make a few coins here... the rough types here look
like they'd appreciate a little melody."

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman lets her gaze wander alongside the bar,
then through the rest of the room, one corner of her mouth turning up into a
light smile.

The Gladiator and the Gaj Tavern -- Main Room [NES]
   This common room composes the bulk of the Gladiator and the Gaj
Tavern, a bustling establishment founded in the Year of Suk-Krath's
Defiance of the 19th age.  A cacophony of sounds fills the inn, from the
busy murmur of the many merchants that frequent the location to the
howling of the crowd, greeting the arriving news of the latest arena
fight, to the drunken whine of the hundreds of commonfolk that have made
the place famous.  Stout wooden beams support the panelled roof of the
room, each bearing many drawings carved by the patrons of the tavern.
An agafari-wood bar dominates the western side of the room, the shelves
behind it supporting the weight of many alcoholic beverages.  Wood and
stone tables with matching chairs are strewn all over the chamber in
clusters as to allow waiters and waitresses to circulate with ease.  A
raised platform has been erected in the northeastern corner for the
messengers and hawkers hired by the establishment that relay the latest
news from the arena.
   To the north, a scarred tarp of carru hide leads out onto the busy
Caravan Way.  Flickering yellow and orange light spills out from the
southern room of the tavern, where the meals are prepared and where
travellers may roast their raw meat for free.  Eastwards lies the public
sleeping area, while a door lies behind the bar, most likely a back
room.
A wall here is designated as a message board.
The towering, golden-haired half-giant is here, crouched beside a table.
The hairy, dark-skinned woman watches the room from beside the bar here.
The lean, sun-reddened woman laughs as she talks at a large table here.
A dark-skinned human barkeep stands behind the bar.
The brutally-scarred orange dwarf sits here at a table, drinking heavily.
The angular, silver-eyed man is here, leaning casually against a wall.

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman sits down onto a barstool and turns
sidewards, resting one arm on the bar casually.

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman smooths out your leather-reinforced
sandcloth skirt with one hand, then turns her head to face the gathered
patrons, her stern expression softening somewhat.

You sit down at a long, scarred bar of agafari wood.

Raising her voice, her dichromic gaze wandering from one end of the room to
the other, you say, in sirihish:
     "Attention please! I am Star, a songweaver, and I think some of you
might appreciate a good tune."

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman glances over to the dark-skinned human
barkeep, one side of her mouth curling up some more.

As the overall loudness in the tavern only slightly decreases, the
star-tattooed, dichromic woman elevates two fingers to her lips and produces
a melodic, barakhan lizard like chirp.

Showing off a warm smile as several patron's heads turn towards her, the
star-tattooed, dichromic woman pulls up your leather-reinforced sandcloth
skirt a tiny bit, revealing an ankle chain of small wooden beads.

Her voice raised and growing more tuneful, you exclaim, in sirihish:
     "Normally I perform with a bard named Jasin. But he has disappeared,
left me behind! Without any sids to pick up my tailoring business!"

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman inclines her head, nodding slightly
several whistles and shouts of disapproval are heard throughout the room.

As she raises an index finger to her lips, pursing them into a smirk to
signal irony, you say, in sirihish:
     "I will begin with a song for my former partner, maybe my words will
reach him, behind whatever skirt he is currently hiding."

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman lowers her eyelids, emitting a long,
humming tune, then begins to sing with a melodic voice.

You sing, in sirihish:
     "The wind blows softly in the cool dawn air "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Drawing the sands along, not caring where"

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman casts a sultry glance of her jade eye
towards a young black-haired mercenary as she continues.

You sing, in sirihish:
     "I cannot follow it, can only stare"

You sing, in sirihish:
     "As it leaves, racing towards my lover fair"

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman lifts up one arm in a graceful,
undulating movement, following the slow-going flutter of her hand with a
longing gaze.

Your new ldesc is:
The star-tattooed, dichromic woman is singing a song at the bar.

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Fly faster along the road, wind, be fleet, "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Wrap my final words in your song so sweet"

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Carry them to my lover's distant street "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "So that he may know why we will not meet "

Pausing a moment, with a sidelong glance from beneath her midnight black
lashes, you say, in sirihish:
     "I assume because he is lying drunk beneath a tavern table."

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Oh, wild wind, obey me only in this..."

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Bring my love news of all that went amiss "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "And I shall lie in peace, and only miss "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "The chance to bestow my last dying kiss"

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman pauses a moment, bending her head
backwards and letting her long black plait flow towards the ground as she
exhales a kiss towards the ceiling theatrically.

You sing, in sirihish:
     "The wind blows softly in the cool dawn air "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "Drawing the sands along, not caring where "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "I cannot follow it, can only stare "

You sing, in sirihish:
     "As it leaves, racing towards my lover fair"

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman holds the last tune for a moment, letting
it vibrate within her throat as she ends the song.

95/115/91/sittingl
The Gladiator and the Gaj Tavern -- Main Room [NES]
   This common room composes the bulk of the Gladiator and the Gaj
Tavern, a bustling establishment founded in the Year of Suk-Krath's
Defiance of the 19th age.  A cacophony of sounds fills the inn, from the
busy murmur of the many merchants that frequent the location to the
howling of the crowd, greeting the arriving news of the latest arena
fight, to the drunken whine of the hundreds of commonfolk that have made
the place famous.  Stout wooden beams support the panelled roof of the
room, each bearing many drawings carved by the patrons of the tavern.
An agafari-wood bar dominates the western side of the room, the shelves
behind it supporting the weight of many alcoholic beverages.  Wood and
stone tables with matching chairs are strewn all over the chamber in
clusters as to allow waiters and waitresses to circulate with ease.  A
raised platform has been erected in the northeastern corner for the
messengers and hawkers hired by the establishment that relay the latest
news from the arena.
   To the north, a scarred tarp of carru hide leads out onto the busy
Caravan Way.  Flickering yellow and orange light spills out from the
southern room of the tavern, where the meals are prepared and where
travellers may roast their raw meat for free.  Eastwards lies the public
sleeping area, while a door lies behind the bar, most likely a back
room.
A wall here is designated as a message board.
The towering, golden-haired half-giant is here, crouched beside a table.
The hairy, dark-skinned woman watches the room from beside the bar here.
The lean, sun-reddened woman laughs as she talks at a large table here.
A dark-skinned human barkeep stands behind the bar.
The brutally-scarred orange dwarf sits here at a table, drinking heavily.
The angular, silver-eyed man is here, leaning casually against a wall.

Your new ldesc is:
The star-tattooed, dichromic woman is sitting at the bar here.

Reaching out with one hand, gracefully gesturing into the room, you say, in
sirihish:
     "Donations are appreciated as always."

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman inclines her head towards a pale young
woman, one side of her mouth curling up some as she listens.

The star-tattooed, dichromic woman accepts a small pouch from a brown-clad,
middle-aged man, blowing a kiss towards him.