"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!" A joyful voice breaks through even the chatter and noise of a tavern. The Golden Scales, a good place for a feed and a drink if you don't mind a menu devoid of anything but fish. Mind you, if you're in Azure Strand and don't care much for seafood... Well... You're in the wrong place. The tavern is just next to the harbor, giving it plenty of business as sailors return home from their voyages with their pouches full of gold. The location and availability of alcohol also makes it perfect for any other individuals who would like to get their grubby paws on said gold. Like one particular jester.
The tavern is packed and the hour late. Festivities are abound and the band has just finished a song.
"Yes!" Anataaoerki leaps up onto a table that has four sailors on it, immediately hunching over slightly and strumming his lyre, not giving them too much of a chance to complain before he gets into a routine. Sailors. Sailors like stories about the sea, particularly stories of the great or terrible things that only the hardiest of sailors could possibly comprehend or know about. The crafty jester has one such tale in mind, especially effective due to the current time of day. Things can get spooky at night. He clears his throat obnoxiously loudly to claim any remaining attention that he may not already have. Judging by the look of the owner of the tavern's expression as he watches from behind the counter, he isn't exactly keen on some weirdo interrupting planned events.
His voice has an air of mystery about it while keeping a somewhat jovial tone, needing to draw them in as quickly as possible. His lyre lets out swift deep sounds, foreboding yet still with enough energy to remain captivating. He wants to interest them with a ghost story buy, believe it or not, he knows they're not complete idiots. No one actually believes these sort of stories. Unless they're drunk, which quite a few of the people here are.
"Now listen well as I tell a tale of a night I shook with fear!
We were sailing west on the open sea heading home from a long, long year.
I was standing watch all alone that night when I heard a wailing cry!"
His head jolts to the side as if to react from said cry happening from out the window and in the harbor, his knees shaking in mock fear.
"As I strained to see what the sound could be something flashed and caught my eye..."
He pauses for dramatic effect, sweeping his face from one side to the other, making sure all in front of him get a good look at his blank mask.
"And the cold wind blew."
He drops off of the table, his boots thudding loudly against the wood in order to regain the momentum of the tail, his lyre picking up in pace as he does so. He doesn't really have everyone's attention, but he still has almost all those in a close vicinity. And that's all he needs.
"'Twas then I spied off the starboard side a strange, mysterious sight."
His head turns once more to the window, prompting a few of the listeners to do the same before returning their attention to him.
"I froze with fear as it drifted near like a ghost in the dark of night.
I could see a sail on a broken mast and deserted decks below.
From all around came a mournful sound but..."
He stops playing the lyre for just a moment to put emphasis on what he says next.
"I saw not a living soul."
He pauses once more.
"And the cold wind blew."
He leaps up onto the bar counter, opening up his attention to the whole tavern as he plays. Unknown to the patrons and even the jester himself, a large object begins floating through the fog of the harbor, slowly creeping into view.
"Well, I held fast to the forward mast as the ship moved slowly on.
And I watched that way 'til the break of day when I knew it fin'lly had gone.
Oh, they laughed and joked as I told my tale to the captain and the men."
He strums once loudly to put emphasis on another line, now having the attention of the whole crowd. Who'd have thought that a tale of a ghost ship would be received well at night by drunk sailors that just got home from extended trips? Only a clairvoyant, that's who. Otherworldly help of sorts. Hah. Anyway, back to the song.
"But the stories true, I can promise you, and it's sure to happen again."
He manages to spot something through the window, the object becoming clearer. Eyes widen underneath the mask and he takes in a deep breath in shock. Did he just weave a boat into existence!? Sure as his eyes will allow him to, he sees a ship in a rather sorry state floating aimlessly through the foggy harbour. Crew or not, all he needs is for people to see it too and they'll come to the conclusion he knows they will. He thrusts his arm outwards, pointing at the window as he cries out.
"Yes, it's sure to happen again!!!"
Some people turn and are immediately shocked, some standing from their seats and others sloppily spilling their drinks. This then prompts the rest of those present to look as well, having the strange reactions. People begin shouting in confusion. Surely what the jester was saying wasn't actually true? It was clearly a tale designed to entertain! The crowd doesn't get to become too loud before they're silenced by the sound of the jester slamming his boot against the counter, getting their attention. Unsure of how to feel or react to the current situation, they listen quietly. Anataaoerki picks up an empty pint glass and balances it on his foot, holding it out.
He's determined to make money off of this. Especially with an opportunity as rare and unheard of as this. Who tells a fake tale, only to see it actually happen? It's a one in a million opportunity that will only get better if the ship is investigated and is actually abandoned or haunted. He can envision the fame he would gain from being the one who first saw the ship now... Oh the tales he could devise and songs he could sing in order to spread misinformation and earn gold...
His voice darkens, damn near menacing as he drives the last line home.
"And the cold wind blew."
The tavern is packed and the hour late. Festivities are abound and the band has just finished a song.
"Yes!" Anataaoerki leaps up onto a table that has four sailors on it, immediately hunching over slightly and strumming his lyre, not giving them too much of a chance to complain before he gets into a routine. Sailors. Sailors like stories about the sea, particularly stories of the great or terrible things that only the hardiest of sailors could possibly comprehend or know about. The crafty jester has one such tale in mind, especially effective due to the current time of day. Things can get spooky at night. He clears his throat obnoxiously loudly to claim any remaining attention that he may not already have. Judging by the look of the owner of the tavern's expression as he watches from behind the counter, he isn't exactly keen on some weirdo interrupting planned events.
His voice has an air of mystery about it while keeping a somewhat jovial tone, needing to draw them in as quickly as possible. His lyre lets out swift deep sounds, foreboding yet still with enough energy to remain captivating. He wants to interest them with a ghost story buy, believe it or not, he knows they're not complete idiots. No one actually believes these sort of stories. Unless they're drunk, which quite a few of the people here are.
"Now listen well as I tell a tale of a night I shook with fear!
We were sailing west on the open sea heading home from a long, long year.
I was standing watch all alone that night when I heard a wailing cry!"
His head jolts to the side as if to react from said cry happening from out the window and in the harbor, his knees shaking in mock fear.
"As I strained to see what the sound could be something flashed and caught my eye..."
He pauses for dramatic effect, sweeping his face from one side to the other, making sure all in front of him get a good look at his blank mask.
"And the cold wind blew."
He drops off of the table, his boots thudding loudly against the wood in order to regain the momentum of the tail, his lyre picking up in pace as he does so. He doesn't really have everyone's attention, but he still has almost all those in a close vicinity. And that's all he needs.
"'Twas then I spied off the starboard side a strange, mysterious sight."
His head turns once more to the window, prompting a few of the listeners to do the same before returning their attention to him.
"I froze with fear as it drifted near like a ghost in the dark of night.
I could see a sail on a broken mast and deserted decks below.
From all around came a mournful sound but..."
He stops playing the lyre for just a moment to put emphasis on what he says next.
"I saw not a living soul."
He pauses once more.
"And the cold wind blew."
He leaps up onto the bar counter, opening up his attention to the whole tavern as he plays. Unknown to the patrons and even the jester himself, a large object begins floating through the fog of the harbor, slowly creeping into view.
"Well, I held fast to the forward mast as the ship moved slowly on.
And I watched that way 'til the break of day when I knew it fin'lly had gone.
Oh, they laughed and joked as I told my tale to the captain and the men."
He strums once loudly to put emphasis on another line, now having the attention of the whole crowd. Who'd have thought that a tale of a ghost ship would be received well at night by drunk sailors that just got home from extended trips? Only a clairvoyant, that's who. Otherworldly help of sorts. Hah. Anyway, back to the song.
"But the stories true, I can promise you, and it's sure to happen again."
He manages to spot something through the window, the object becoming clearer. Eyes widen underneath the mask and he takes in a deep breath in shock. Did he just weave a boat into existence!? Sure as his eyes will allow him to, he sees a ship in a rather sorry state floating aimlessly through the foggy harbour. Crew or not, all he needs is for people to see it too and they'll come to the conclusion he knows they will. He thrusts his arm outwards, pointing at the window as he cries out.
"Yes, it's sure to happen again!!!"
Some people turn and are immediately shocked, some standing from their seats and others sloppily spilling their drinks. This then prompts the rest of those present to look as well, having the strange reactions. People begin shouting in confusion. Surely what the jester was saying wasn't actually true? It was clearly a tale designed to entertain! The crowd doesn't get to become too loud before they're silenced by the sound of the jester slamming his boot against the counter, getting their attention. Unsure of how to feel or react to the current situation, they listen quietly. Anataaoerki picks up an empty pint glass and balances it on his foot, holding it out.
He's determined to make money off of this. Especially with an opportunity as rare and unheard of as this. Who tells a fake tale, only to see it actually happen? It's a one in a million opportunity that will only get better if the ship is investigated and is actually abandoned or haunted. He can envision the fame he would gain from being the one who first saw the ship now... Oh the tales he could devise and songs he could sing in order to spread misinformation and earn gold...
His voice darkens, damn near menacing as he drives the last line home.
"And the cold wind blew."
