View source for RP: Interview with a Minstrel

Maraxus is playing in the tavern. He is sitting back in a corner playing a old and warn lute. His playing is at best, mediocre, but good enough to be entertaining. Though the playing is just good enough to get him a free drink or two. The man seems completly relaxed.


	One mul'niessa woman's been in the pub, sipping at a glass of wine while Maraxus has been playing. When he sets down his lute to pause for drink, she stands and walks over towards his table. With her is a war golem, who was standing behind and beside her chair... and to whom she makes a 'wait here' gesture as she rises to head over. She's really, -really- nice to look at, if one isn't simply prejudiced against mul'niessa in general, and she's dressed nicely, too, both in terms of the clothing being nicely-tailored, not rags, and well-fitted to her, but also in terms of having been chosen to accentuate her form, without simply overly displaying skin.
	"Excuse me, minstrel", Aznara says to Maraxus when she's gotten close enough for casual conversation. "May I have a moment of your time, and some conversation? I will happily buy you a meal and a drink in exchange for the time you give me, if you wish...?"


Maraxus sips his drink throughtfully and smiles to the woman. He is a rather fetching man himself as he tilts his head to the woman. Then smiles a bit more, "Oh my, conversation is always nice. Though I am sure a woman of your fancy could do with more then just a drink and a meal. Or, that just the foreplay?" Winking as he leans back and strums a few bars on his lute, "Conversation away lass, see what games of words we can play."


	"Perhaps it is just the foreplay... for I mean, in truth, to ask if you'd be willing to allow more than simple conversation", Aznara says, as she sits herself down in a seat at the bard's table and sets down her wine glass. "I have been tasked by the Tribune, as a simple way of providing a service and earning a small amount of coin for the work, with conducting interviews of persons I happen across in my time here in Alexandria. I was wondering if you might be willing to allow me to conduct an interview for printing by the Tribune?"


Maraxus stops, then barks out a laugh, "Oh I am not sure the paper would appreciate the interview. Unless you wish to share all the naught bits. I am ok with that, may make for more interesting reading now." Grinning as he strums a few more bars on his lute, "Still a paper for the paper, from a man passing through with a lute. A dalliance with the wonderer whose wonderlust has steps his foots here. Ask away, I am an open book, ready to be undressed." grinning, "Though there may be more undressing later."


	Aznara smiles, "A moment, if you would, whilst I lay out my materials." She reaches to one of the pouches on her belt, and from it withdraws a scroll tube, a vial of ink, and a quill. From the tube, she pulls some blank pages of simple paper and lays them out. Unstoppering the ink well, she sets it near the pages. That done, she gestures over these things, obviously casting a simple bit of magic... and the quill rises and moves over to dip itself into the ink vial, moving to the first sheet of paper, where it begins to write, clearly at her direction: "Location: Fernwood Pub, Alexandria", adding the date and her own name. As the quill makes soft scritching and scratching noises as it writes, she looks back to Maraxus and asks, "May I ask your name?"


"Maraxus De'Centi, of the Starchasers Tribe from the Vast. Son of Lexia De'Centi, guide to the Starchasers tribe." the olive skinned man humming a few bars and then smiles, "Though tit for tat, may I ask your name." The lyre is old, very old, but also very well taken care of. The craftmanship it masterful and the man is clearly underplaying the lyre to its full potential.


	The quill's soft scratching continues, as it transcribes the man's name when he gives it. "I am Aznara Elis'tralee", she says, simply, in reply. "Would you describe yourself, in your own words?", she then asks.


Maraxus leans forward at the latest question, "Describe myself. A most difficult challenge." He stands up suddenly and flips in a forward somersault onto the table. "I am an a actor, for I perform plays and take on personalities not my own." his expression changing as he turns serious and dull at the end his personality changing before your eyes. Then he suddenly lights back up against. "I am a singer, for my voice is my weapon as it is my fancy. A song to be sung, as the ears are rung." His voice taking on a sing song pattern. "I am a dance." His feat starting to tap dance along the table, "As you can see." Grinning. "I am a musician, as you have already seen me play. Yet what I am most passionaite about, is my story telling. The Hymn takes many forms, and sometimes the most subtle and the most powerful is the story." Flipping backwards right into his chair like he never left it, "Simply put, I am a Bard."


	Aznara listens, glancing to the quill briefly every few blinks of her eyeslids, as she mentally guides it along in its transcription. "Your passion is story-telling, you say. Would you be willing to, briefly please, summarize your favorite tale?", she asks, before reaching for her glass of wine for a sip of the dark red liquid inside. As she sets the glass down, she leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other, as a gentlewoman would do it.


"Ahh it is an old classic, a grim classic if you will. Love their work, and so hard to find it in today's world. Even the old masters cannot always track down their stories. There is one I did find though, The Cat and the mouse in partnership. A tale of creatures that are what they are. A friendship that ever there was, until the cat was hungry and ate the mouse.


	Aznara uses one hand to arrange her skirts after her one leg is crossed over the other at the knee, so as to not over-display her skin. The quill continues to transcribe, taking a moment to re-dip itself in the ink vial as it does. "I'm unsure I've heard that one. Perhaps, someday, I will hear you tell it", she says. She ponders a moment or two, then, as if to come up with her next question, though she covers the pondering well, by sipping at her wine. When she sets the glass back down on the tabletop, she asks, "Clearly, your way with words, your way with music... these are strengths and talents of yours. Is there one thing you wish you could do well, a special talent you lack and wish you did have?"


Maraxus ponders for a moment and shrugs, "I am a bard, there is nothing I am not good at. I suppose the thing I would like to improve is my answer to this question." his lute being strummed again for a few bars, each note cut off halfway through in a crisp fashion. The music is clearly thoughtfully, "I wish I able to speak more languages. I know so few, and it would help me learn so many more tales."


	Aznara nods her head, glancing over at the quill as Maraxus speaks. When she looks back at him, she asks, "Is there anything you've not done in your life that you hope to someday do?"


Maraxus leans forward, "Gotten to know a beautiful woman like yourself. Though I may someday have that done in my life, the night is still young.' Leaning back again as he smiles thoughtfully, "I want to weave a story, a story so powerful that everybody can hear the hymn like I do. To share the beauty of creation in a way that we hear in legends of the bards of old."

	Aznara nods, and looks to the quill as it scritches out the transcription, catching up with what's been spoken. "I believe that will suffice for the interview", she says, as the quill. "I'm flattered, of course, by your offer of a night's dalliance... but I'm afraid I must decline. It's nothing to do with that you are lacking in appearance, or in your ability to charm, impress, and intrigue; it's to do with that I was raised to believe that such a thing should be more than a mere dalliance, more than a simple night of pleasure", she says, as she uses her prestidigitations to clean the ink from the quill and move air across the pages to dry the ink quickly upon them. She reaches out to re-stopped the vial of ink and gently pluck the quill from the air as it hovers, placing these things back into her pouch. She then rolls up the papers, tucking them into the scroll tube before replacing that into her pouch, as well.