@mothfaulkner Thank you so much for your patience! This was a lot of fun for me to write, I play the harp and it was so nice to write for a dragon that has one! I hope you like it!
Aponia's Troubadour
Driftwood, sun, and salt; the smell of home.
The background noise of pleasant conversation, clinking tankards, and laughter were a welcome sound for a wandering bard, now returned to where he felt most comfortable. Stepping up onto the top deck of the Aponia, Liblikas lustily inhaled the scent of fish stew, heady ale, and baking bread. His stomach growled loudly in spite of his pride as he approached the barkeep, Sam. They raised an eyebrow at him and laughed, pulling a mug and a bowl from a shelf and retreating to the kitchen before he even had the chance to request food or drink. Sighing happily, the bard set his harp gently down on the floor next to him and got comfortable at the bar. It was not long before Sam returned with a flagon of cold ale and a serving of piping hot fish stew. Liblikas could think of no other thing he wanted more in that moment, and tucked in.
"I suspected you'd be back soon," Sam quipped with a crooked smile, handing Liblikas a napkin and a roll of bread. "I'll leave you to it, but per our agreement I will demand payment in the form of a story or two once you're done."
Liblikas rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and grinned around the mouthfuls of his personal feast. Sam had not lost their touch while he was gone, the stew was to die for. Ripping the roll into thirds, he sopped up some of the broth, savoring every last drop. He had traveled far and wide, seen and heard and tasted all manner of wondrous things, but nothing compared to Sam's cooking, baking, and brewing. Time stopped as he supped, and he was not sure how long he had been engrossed in his meal after he had finished every last morsel. Heaving a sigh, he turned to his half-empty flagon, and took a hearty gulp. His stomach full, he could focus enough now to look around the tavern. The Flowing Taurus was full of familiar faces, but there were also some new dragons as well.
Nodding to himself, he meticulously cleaned his claws with the napkin (it would not do to get grease or food on his precious instrument), and picked his harp up off the floor where it stood next to him. Taking a tuning key from his pouch, he quietly brought every string into alignment, twisting the pegs along the top of the harp, called the neck. Tightening or loosening, soon each metal string was in tune, vibrating in harmonious balance with all of the others, forming octaves, scales, and chords. Inhaling, then exhaling slowly, Liblikas set his claws to the strings, bringing forth melodies and harmonies that rang like sweet silver bells. He began quietly, but as more dragons noticed the beautiful music, the tavern grew hushed. Soon, Liblikas was the only noise in the whole of the Aponia's top deck.
Liblikas loved his instrument. Due to their sharp claws, harps made for dragons usually needed strings of metal; compared to the harps made by beastclan members and those found in archaeological digs, where the strings were made of animal gut or sinew (or occasionally nylon), metal was the only logical choice for a dragon. Liblikas' harp, which he had named Swansong, was crafted of bones, had golden (well, okay, gold alloy) strings, and had been enchanted to amplify its already sweet sound... After all, bone is not quite known for its acoustic properties. As his claws danced over the strings, he and Swansong captivated the room with intricate eddy of melody and bubbling glissando. When at last he finished, applause filled the whole tavern.
Bowing happily, Liblikas thanked his audience, then turned and finished his ale. It was not long before a half dozen dragons were vying to buy his next round, asking what drink he preferred. Thanking them again, he declined, and turned back to his instrument, plucking chords absent mindedly and just enjoying the atmosphere. They stood and listened appreciatively for a while, before heading back to their tables and resuming their respective pleasant evenings spent with pleasant company.
Sam swept up to him to clear his bowl away and bring him a fresh drink. "Wonderful as always," they gushed, smiling broadly this time. "But I'm still holding you to your payment to me."
"Come back in a moment and you'll have it!" Liblikas replied, still riding the high from his previous performance. Sure enough, it was not long before Sam was back, having stuck one of the younger dragons in training on the bar for a little "busy night" experience.
Plucking a rhythmic melody on Swansong, the Imperial crooned just loud enough for Sam to hear...
'Twas once I walked along a cliff-lined coast
When suddenly a ship wrecked down below!
I feared for her poor crew, and was engrossed
In seeing who of them to shore would go.
As closer still I looked, I spied their flags:
A field full-black, its only charge a skull...
Could these be pirates, horrid scallywags?
My pity lessened for their shattered hull.
And then a cry alighted on my ears,
"Our Capn's dead, Ol' Redmane is no more!"
I watched the crew shed salty, bitter tears,
As they brought their cruel captain to the shore.
And sure enough, with scars and tatterred wings,
Redmane it was, bedecked in jewels and rings.
The mane of this fine pearlcatcher, indeed,
Was fiery red and flowing like seaweed.
His claws were tipped in gold, and his fine pearl
Had, just like his torso, a crimson swirl.
Really, this pirate king was dead and gone?
Could there be hope for bright and safer dawn?
After his yearslong reign of fear and woe,
It was a shipwreck that ended this foe?
But then, commotion came up from the beach.
Redmane lived on! Ah, so much for my speech...
Sam laughed at that last line, and clapped loudly, along with the crowd that had gathered as Liblikas had sung his composition. Smiling and bowing again, he toasted the room, and everyone cheered again and drank. He and Sam smiled at one another.
It was going to be a festive night in the Tavern, no doubt!
Next person, please try to stick to the named dragons on the first page of each lair tab. :)
Ah, thank you MilkshakeTrex! Unfortunately that doesn't quite match my headcannon for Rigil, so I won't be using it, but I'm glad you had fun writing it at least. :)
Aponia's Troubadour
Driftwood, sun, and salt; the smell of home.
The background noise of pleasant conversation, clinking tankards, and laughter were a welcome sound for a wandering bard, now returned to where he felt most comfortable. Stepping up onto the top deck of the Aponia, Liblikas lustily inhaled the scent of fish stew, heady ale, and baking bread. His stomach growled loudly in spite of his pride as he approached the barkeep, Sam. They raised an eyebrow at him and laughed, pulling a mug and a bowl from a shelf and retreating to the kitchen before he even had the chance to request food or drink. Sighing happily, the bard set his harp gently down on the floor next to him and got comfortable at the bar. It was not long before Sam returned with a flagon of cold ale and a serving of piping hot fish stew. Liblikas could think of no other thing he wanted more in that moment, and tucked in.
"I suspected you'd be back soon," Sam quipped with a crooked smile, handing Liblikas a napkin and a roll of bread. "I'll leave you to it, but per our agreement I will demand payment in the form of a story or two once you're done."
Liblikas rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and grinned around the mouthfuls of his personal feast. Sam had not lost their touch while he was gone, the stew was to die for. Ripping the roll into thirds, he sopped up some of the broth, savoring every last drop. He had traveled far and wide, seen and heard and tasted all manner of wondrous things, but nothing compared to Sam's cooking, baking, and brewing. Time stopped as he supped, and he was not sure how long he had been engrossed in his meal after he had finished every last morsel. Heaving a sigh, he turned to his half-empty flagon, and took a hearty gulp. His stomach full, he could focus enough now to look around the tavern. The Flowing Taurus was full of familiar faces, but there were also some new dragons as well.
Nodding to himself, he meticulously cleaned his claws with the napkin (it would not do to get grease or food on his precious instrument), and picked his harp up off the floor where it stood next to him. Taking a tuning key from his pouch, he quietly brought every string into alignment, twisting the pegs along the top of the harp, called the neck. Tightening or loosening, soon each metal string was in tune, vibrating in harmonious balance with all of the others, forming octaves, scales, and chords. Inhaling, then exhaling slowly, Liblikas set his claws to the strings, bringing forth melodies and harmonies that rang like sweet silver bells. He began quietly, but as more dragons noticed the beautiful music, the tavern grew hushed. Soon, Liblikas was the only noise in the whole of the Aponia's top deck.
Liblikas loved his instrument. Due to their sharp claws, harps made for dragons usually needed strings of metal; compared to the harps made by beastclan members and those found in archaeological digs, where the strings were made of animal gut or sinew (or occasionally nylon), metal was the only logical choice for a dragon. Liblikas' harp, which he had named Swansong, was crafted of bones, had golden (well, okay, gold alloy) strings, and had been enchanted to amplify its already sweet sound... After all, bone is not quite known for its acoustic properties. As his claws danced over the strings, he and Swansong captivated the room with intricate eddy of melody and bubbling glissando. When at last he finished, applause filled the whole tavern.
Bowing happily, Liblikas thanked his audience, then turned and finished his ale. It was not long before a half dozen dragons were vying to buy his next round, asking what drink he preferred. Thanking them again, he declined, and turned back to his instrument, plucking chords absent mindedly and just enjoying the atmosphere. They stood and listened appreciatively for a while, before heading back to their tables and resuming their respective pleasant evenings spent with pleasant company.
Sam swept up to him to clear his bowl away and bring him a fresh drink. "Wonderful as always," they gushed, smiling broadly this time. "But I'm still holding you to your payment to me."
"Come back in a moment and you'll have it!" Liblikas replied, still riding the high from his previous performance. Sure enough, it was not long before Sam was back, having stuck one of the younger dragons in training on the bar for a little "busy night" experience.
Plucking a rhythmic melody on Swansong, the Imperial crooned just loud enough for Sam to hear...
'Twas once I walked along a cliff-lined coast
When suddenly a ship wrecked down below!
I feared for her poor crew, and was engrossed
In seeing who of them to shore would go.
As closer still I looked, I spied their flags:
A field full-black, its only charge a skull...
Could these be pirates, horrid scallywags?
My pity lessened for their shattered hull.
And then a cry alighted on my ears,
"Our Capn's dead, Ol' Redmane is no more!"
I watched the crew shed salty, bitter tears,
As they brought their cruel captain to the shore.
And sure enough, with scars and tatterred wings,
Redmane it was, bedecked in jewels and rings.
The mane of this fine pearlcatcher, indeed,
Was fiery red and flowing like seaweed.
His claws were tipped in gold, and his fine pearl
Had, just like his torso, a crimson swirl.
Really, this pirate king was dead and gone?
Could there be hope for bright and safer dawn?
After his yearslong reign of fear and woe,
It was a shipwreck that ended this foe?
But then, commotion came up from the beach.
Redmane lived on! Ah, so much for my speech...
Sam laughed at that last line, and clapped loudly, along with the crowd that had gathered as Liblikas had sung his composition. Smiling and bowing again, he toasted the room, and everyone cheered again and drank. He and Sam smiled at one another.
It was going to be a festive night in the Tavern, no doubt!
Ah, thank you MilkshakeTrex! Unfortunately that doesn't quite match my headcannon for Rigil, so I won't be using it, but I'm glad you had fun writing it at least. :)
Mattie/Sol
