Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » A Bard and a Fighter (1x1)

Abby opened the door, her hair down around her shoulders, a brush being pulled through it in long strokes. Her strange red-brown eyes going over Dart quickly. She stepped to the side, "I presume your companion is a bed-hog, if you've only the one bed." She smiled easily, friendly. She had a way with people, it could be said. The room was as sparse as any of the others in the tavern, but something about it made it homey. She had a fine blanket over the top of the bed, made with a pale blue fabric that shone in the candle-light. A map had been put up on the wall, with two pins in it, to indicate where they were now and where they were going.

On the table was an open journal, a pen laid beside it. Abby herself was wearing a nightgown made of a thick white fabric, with fine embroidery that made it look like sheets of music.

"Umm, yeah, actually he is." Dart stuttered, finding it more difficult that ever to actually swallow. He would have preferred to do something cool, something manly, but his only action was to rub the back of his head nervously. "For a little guy he can really stretch over the entire space." He grinned meekly, amused at his own private thoughts. "How did you know?"

He hadn't moved to enter her room yet, too caught up in the sight of a woman in her night clothes. The room as well snagged his attention. Dart had no sense of decoration, but Grey did. He knew the little kender would have become a spazz inside of Abigail's room.

Normally Dart would have taken off his upper body ware already, but as he had decided to leave his quarters only his scarf and coat had been discarded. What remained underneath was a once white, now horribly stained, silk shirt. There were a few holes in the shoulders and on the sleeves, signs of ware and tear.

Abby laughed softly, "He seems the type. Very comfortable anywhere he is. Quite a little fibber you've got there. Are you coming in, Dart?" Her voice was softer now, as she invited him in. She leaned forwards and frowned, "Would you like me to fix those holes for you? I think I have a sewing needle in here, somewhere." She turned to search her bag, not giving him much time to reply as she searched. When she found it, alone with a spool of thread, she thrust out her hand, "Give me the shirt love."

She was studying his face, ready to argue if he didn't, "Also, would you mind coming in. I'd not like for the whole tavern to see my in my dressing gown."

He coughed, stumbling over first his thoughts and then his words. "Oh, right, yes, of course!" At least he didn't stumble inside her room also, he even managed to enter like a normal person. "I should have assumed, I mean, right. My shirt." He wanted to argue. Anytime Grey demanded he get new clothes, or at least repair the ones he had the companions fought.

"I don't really see the point - " Dart began the same conversation he had had with Grey earlier in the evening, and then noticed the expression on Abby's face. "Right.." He cleared his throat again, fingering one of the holes on his sleeve. "These will be...a little bothersome in the winter I guess." He trailed off.

He turned his back to her, facing the doorway to close it. "It would make sense to repair it."

She laughed softly, turning the shirt this way and that, "Sorry my thread is black. It'll have to do until I can buy some white." She began to darn, sitting on the chair of the little desk. In the corner was a screen, her clothing set on top of it. Behind it, when he stepped in, he could see a bathing tub, full of hot, steaming water. She kept darning, "So, what made you come in here? Not that I mind. I always enjoy company, even late at night. My momma told me I was a social butterfly even when I was a baby, content only when being passed around the room for a cuddle."

She watched him, a smile playing on her lips, waiting on his answers.

He stepped behind the screens and slid out of the shirt before handing it over to her, eyeing the tub of hot water as he did so. "Well, I..I don't know really. I thought maybe I could help you with something I guess." This wasn't the total truth of course, but even in all of his social bumbling he knew better than to always speak his mind.

"You seemed like you wanted company tonight." This was also a lie. Dart hadn't noticed anything at all, it was Grey who had pointed out Abby's comment to him. The Kender had all but shoved Dart out of the room earlier before taking over the best. Stubborn little git he could be sometimes.

He looked at the tub of water again. "I was...interrupting your bath? Should I leave?"

Her eyes turned to the tub, "Oh no. It's fine. I'll have a bath another night. The water's clean, so it can be reused, I would hope. Unless you'd like a bath?" She flashed him an easy-going smile, her eyes returning to her work, "This is a nice shirt. Fine quality, why have you let it fall into disrepair?" Her thumb rubbed across the fabric, enjoyingthe feel of it in her hands.

She kept her eyes down, inspecting the shirt to see if it gave any clues to the strange man, beyond it's quality. It could, quite easily have been stolen, but she had a feeling it hadn't been.

Upon further inspection the shirt showed more signs of wealth. The buttons had been originally attached with a strong, golden thread and the buttons themselves were silver.

"Well, I just never saw the need to repair it. The shirt functions well enough as it is." His voice soured a bit as he spoke, "And usually spinsters ask for much more than they should." Now slightly haughty, "They wanted eight gold pieces when I got the first hole. Eight! That was enough for.." The thought, hard, "At least a lot more food than a silly little hole!"

Obviously Dart was not the one who handled their money, and this transaction had happened several months ago. Since then many more holes had collected about Dart's clothing. "After that, it just seemed pointless so long as the shirt itself can still be worn." As he spoke he had poked his head from around the changing screen to watch her work. His hair was just long enough to touch the tips of his shoulders, just barely gracing bits of flesh here contrasting greatly against the rest of his tanned torso. None of his scars looked too severe, most of them barely a few centimeters long. They were the scars of a new traveler, someone who had not quite learned which brushes you could walk through, and which fought back.

"Eight gold," she repeated, frowning, "Wow, why eight gold. Maybe I should charge for this." She looked up at him, "So, are you from money? Or just bestowed a gift from a pretty girl." Her eyes settled on his chest for a moment, admiring his muscles. She was thin, with little in the way of muscle herself. Scars littered her arms, from a number of years travelling. They weren't just those from fighting, but those from choosing the wrong path in a cave or two.

She inspected the buttons carefully, looking for a clue to where they had come from, or maybe the house that they belonged to. She hoped he didn't notice, since she didn't want to be rude, but bards are curious creatures - er, professionals.

"I wouldn't be able to pay it" he chuckled, running a hand through his bangs in a failed attempt to keep them out of his eyes. "I guess you could say I came from money," He put emphasis on the past tense of the sentence. "I don't anymore." The buttons themselves held the smallest symbol of a crane in what might have been gold. If Abby ran a finger over it, she would feel the engraved impression from the symbol.

He saw her own scars, and came further out from behind the screen. His sense of self was limited, and as they continued to speak his cautiousness was fading. It wasn't that he had a large confidence in himself or his body so much as Dart had forgotten he was without a shirt. The muscles in his arms and chest were tightly formed. With a shirt on few would realize he had any sort of strength at all, but now that his shirt was off his upper torso showed definition instead of bulk.

"You are the first pretty girl that hasn't glared at me in a long time." This was an attempt at a compliment, and probably showed a little bit of why he didn't have the best luck with ladies. That and he had spent most of his time in Taverns.

She laughed, the sound full of mirth, "I tend to avoid glaring at people. No reason to start something I can't finish, especially with people I don't know." She finished with the last hole - she had quick fingers. She paused a moment, to think of the house that the buttons may have come from, but didn't say a word. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew better than to pry. That was a dangerous sport in and of itself. Instead, she would ask the Kender in the morning. He would know, and he would give up the information, she was certain of it.

She offered his shirt back, "Again, sorry about the colour. So, how come you're so shy? I figure that enough time with Grey, you'd be laughing in the face of danger."

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you've never thrown a glass of water into a bastard's face, or stepped on someones foot because they made a comment about what you wear." He was feeling more confident now, to the point of crossing his arms in a lazy position. He hadn't made a motion to take the shirt back yet, honestly hadn't thought about it.

"Danger isn't a problem. At least...not fighting monsters and wolves and what not. It's people I don't like. Large crowds of people." He shuddered a bit, and moved to lean his back against the screen.


Funny thing about changing screens. They are made for someone to duck behind them so that they may get naked for a few moments, then put more clothing on afterward. They are not made for children to climb on top of, and they are not made to withstand the weight of a grown man. The screen shifted, falling away from Dart even as he tried to right himself. "Gack!" He called out, having leaned backwards too far to maintain balance. One heel got caught with the front of his other foot and the medium sized man took a tumble...right into the tub of water behind him. He landed with a loud, obnoxious splash, feet up in the air, arms hanging on either side of the tub itself, and completely wet from head to toe.

Abby didn't have time to answer his question as he took that tumble. Her hands went to cover her face in shock, eyes wide. She tossed his shirt to the side, rushing over to help him. She leaned over to take his arms and help him out, but instead ended up slipping on a puddle of water, falling in over top of Dart. Sputtering she groans, looking down at him, "Well, that was... Exciting." She laughed softly, "I meant to help you out, instead I fall right on top of you." Her hair was wet, tangling with the moisture, silver locks clumping together.

Bursting into laughter as she struggled to get out she couldn't look him in the eye for a moment, "Well, I got my bath."

Struggling still to get out, she found a place to put her foot and stepped out, soaking wet. She took a look around for the pile of towels, grabbign one to put around her while she reached for his hand, "Let's try this again, shall we?"

He had wrapped his arms around her waist when she fell, a feeble attempt to keep her from getting hurt. She she retreated from the tub his grip loosened so she could rise. When she once more extended her hand, he had to advert his eyes away from her body. Mumbling an apology Dart scurried out of the water on his own, his face flushed a deep, bright red.

"S-sorry" he managed again, rubbing at his face with one hand. His bangs refused to leave his for head, and his pants were now hugging his legs tighter than any pair of pants ever should on a man. "Umm do you, would you happen to have, well...another towel?" He asked meekly. He was embarrassed now, and unsure of how to handle himself. This was most definitely not in any form of training he had ever had before.

She smiled easily, "There are worse things. I'll go downstairs and get you another towel. Won't be a moment." She went to the door, pausing to look at him. She didn't mean to laugh, but it was a funny sight to her. This strong willed man soaking wet and embarrassed. A titter escaped as she fled downstairs, into the midst of the drunken men and women. She thought nothing of waltzing down there soaking wet, not realizing it might be a bad plan. Ogling was nothing to her, but it was worse now - she never stayed late in the bar, because the drunker men got, the braver they got.

Dart was a fool in many situations involving women, but this was not one of them. "Abigail, no wait, don't!" He stuttered, rushing out after her. If one of the left over drunks saw her in that state, there could be trouble.