The Blackbird had only recently come to Akvero. Places like this were often on his travel itinerary. They tended to be full of new stories to add to his reportoire, and the bard was fond of places like that. The thought brought a smile to rough lips as he carried himself forward. The town seemed very busy to him, with people milling about in a frenzy. He was unsure of the reason for such activity, but he presumed some kind of event was either taking place, or soon would be. Judging by the masks he noticed, it was probably some kind of festival. Still, nothing too out of the ordinary to the tall man in the long vest, and his blackened bare feet carried him along the canal until he spotted a place where he could get a room and some food and drink. The Grande Canal Pub. It wasn't exactly the most poetic name, but it held a charm all its own. The 'bard' decided this would be his respite for the near future. While he scoped out the town.
He opened the door and entered, stopping just inside to take a quick survey of his surroundings. There was an individual with blue hair seated at the bar, and a woman with auburn hair who seemed to be serving a shift behind the bar. This was good for him, as it meant several good things for him. He approached, his smile small and tame, unlike the beard that nearly hid it.
His features were not normal for this area. In fact, everything about this man screamed 'outsider.' His nose was hooked, and his skin was deeply tanned. His hair was black and wiry with age and travel. On his head, his hair was pulled brutally back into a ponytail that hung to his mid-back. It probably would have hung lower, if not for the elaborate braiding that had taken place. His beard was, at least, clean, and well groomed, despite its length placing it firmly at the level of his nipples. The vest hanging off his shoulders came to rest near his ankles when he was standing, and kept him warm with the fur on the inside. The black of the vest made it more apparent that the shirt beneath it was not the same color, instead being an incredibly dark purple. Perhaps more obviously were his sleeves. How they clung to his arms wasn't clear, but they were elaborate enough to be noteworthy, considering they appeared to be composed out of raven's feathers or crow's feathers or something similar. When his arms were at his sides, they hung below his fingertips and flared out widely. His scent was a smorgasbord of pungent spices, smoke, and pleasing incenses.
He settled onto a stool at the bar, his smile slipping as he felt the wood beneath him. Recovering from that displeasure, he glanced over to the woman he'd noted earlier, leaning forward into the bar and resting his arms on its surface.
"Miss? Could I get tea, a room, and some food with this?"
His voice was clear, since he needed to get her attention, but it still held the remnants of a voicebox textured by smoking. It was gruff and deep. The voice was accompanied by the placement of a single, though hefty, silver coin with a round hole through it, near the top. On the top face was the profile of a man unknown in this area. The face against the table held the image of a man kneeling in prayer, hands resting on the cross-guard of a sword buried in the earth before him. Foreign currency, but, at the very least, it was silver.
He opened the door and entered, stopping just inside to take a quick survey of his surroundings. There was an individual with blue hair seated at the bar, and a woman with auburn hair who seemed to be serving a shift behind the bar. This was good for him, as it meant several good things for him. He approached, his smile small and tame, unlike the beard that nearly hid it.
His features were not normal for this area. In fact, everything about this man screamed 'outsider.' His nose was hooked, and his skin was deeply tanned. His hair was black and wiry with age and travel. On his head, his hair was pulled brutally back into a ponytail that hung to his mid-back. It probably would have hung lower, if not for the elaborate braiding that had taken place. His beard was, at least, clean, and well groomed, despite its length placing it firmly at the level of his nipples. The vest hanging off his shoulders came to rest near his ankles when he was standing, and kept him warm with the fur on the inside. The black of the vest made it more apparent that the shirt beneath it was not the same color, instead being an incredibly dark purple. Perhaps more obviously were his sleeves. How they clung to his arms wasn't clear, but they were elaborate enough to be noteworthy, considering they appeared to be composed out of raven's feathers or crow's feathers or something similar. When his arms were at his sides, they hung below his fingertips and flared out widely. His scent was a smorgasbord of pungent spices, smoke, and pleasing incenses.
He settled onto a stool at the bar, his smile slipping as he felt the wood beneath him. Recovering from that displeasure, he glanced over to the woman he'd noted earlier, leaning forward into the bar and resting his arms on its surface.
"Miss? Could I get tea, a room, and some food with this?"
His voice was clear, since he needed to get her attention, but it still held the remnants of a voicebox textured by smoking. It was gruff and deep. The voice was accompanied by the placement of a single, though hefty, silver coin with a round hole through it, near the top. On the top face was the profile of a man unknown in this area. The face against the table held the image of a man kneeling in prayer, hands resting on the cross-guard of a sword buried in the earth before him. Foreign currency, but, at the very least, it was silver.
The mind is a fantastic, dangerous place. Don't go alone.
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Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by tindome - 12-28-2014, 09:04 AM
Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by euphoricvoodoo - 01-06-2015, 04:42 PM
Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by Kat - 01-16-2015, 01:11 AM
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Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by euphoricvoodoo - 03-25-2015, 06:46 AM
Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by Kat - 04-22-2015, 11:05 AM
Grande Canal Pub [Open] - by bear - 05-05-2015, 04:12 PM
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