Yolanda- The Tavern
The smoke filled den of an inn’s tavern, the clink and thud of glasses upon table tops and the cricket song like din of conversations that pooled and lapped like waves at a sea shore, a perfect place indeed. Originally she had travelled here for other reasons, the Adventuring Ranger was no place for a ‘lady’, so said Father Robinson anyway, full of drunks and gamblers. Of course she was far from a lady and she had the most fun with drunks and gamblers. Games were happening in many parts of the tavern, Mah Jong in the far right where some elf was losing terribly to a human with a dark bushy beard. Someone of course ought to tell the elf the human was cheating with an accomplice behind the elf and extra game tiles, Yola wouldn’t mind. Another game with a travelling man a set of cups and a ball was being played closer to the bar and many games of poker were accompanying conversation.
Her original reason had been to answer a poster that had caught her eye from her home town, An amusing thought there, a gypsy with a home. the father had been against it but had let her go. The church needed funds for the orphanage among other things; roof repair being the most urgent, and so reluctantly the father had let her go. However upon arriving to this town she relished the vibe of ‘easy pickings’, the usually sleepy town would have been easy enough, but with the buzz of adventure everywhere around it had people more unaware than usual. She had not lifted much in her opinion, a few pouches were of course a few coins lighter, but a good thief knew what and how much to take and how much to leave. Those who were stolen from would think they merely spent a little more, though a missing purse would of course meant outright theft.
At the moment she stood in the middle of the floor, a cleared space by the refined tiefling owner of the inn who had begged (well asked) her for entertainment for the restless and bored adventurers. She was only too happy to get paid to pick pockets and so of course she obliged the manager his request, blowing her pay on a strong shot of moonshine before rearranging her many bangles and chains. Today’s flowers within her hair were orchids, beautiful deep passionate blues with a golden vibrant enough to make a King’s crown blush and the purest white to make a cleric’s underskirts seem filthy. The commotion didn’t die down but she could feel eyes upon her as she moved, taking the centre of the room and allowing those vibrant eyes of hers to close.
There was no musical accompaniment, the bards seemed to be on break, or drunk, but she was sure the maestro of the bar would soon round up someone to play for the gypsy. Not that she would wait, the girl lowered to one knee, the other bent so she was close to the floor and with a startling ease she leant back, taut stomach skyward with her head balanced on one foot. With her middle fingers pressed to her thumb joints and hands making gentle circles her stomach began to undulate as her elbows bent and moved her fingers up into the air above her like twin snakes rising from a cave. Her head lifted and her shoulders swayed side to side as she slowly began to sit up from her ever so uncomfortable position, her fingers still spinning in intricate ways and the sounds of her own cons and metal creating the musical beat, somewhere a fiddle beginning to try and find its pace.
That had been what she was waiting for and as her back straightened and she was left on one knee she span to the left, the skirt ruffling lightly and the coins tinkling gently in time with the fiddle that found and began to play a eastern rhythm. She span back the way she came and soon she began to rise, balancing first on the balls of her feet with both arms sliding outwards moving in an opposing mirror affect, while one would move outwards, swaying slowly the other would remain close to her body only to be reversed with perfected detail, as once more her arms began to move above her head she began to stand, her rump swaying to the beat and her shoulders leant to the movements to give a more graceful affect. Her dance had begun and no doubt there would be plenty of chances to help a few of these dear chaps out with those heavy purses of theirs.