A Bard's Senses

[Kiko]

Dominic's day started simply enough. He woke from the evening spent in the tavern clear-headed, with his fingers sore. He'd had, once again, managed to pay for a night's worth of bedding plus breakfast with a song, or rather several songs. Dominic winced and wiggled his fingers. No playing for a while today.

His energy, spirits, and thoughts were high, so he decided to start making a map of his surroundings.

He started in a circle, at first, and consistently widened it as the day progressed. He had backtracked often, and would probably continue to do so until the map was complete. But, for right now he just wanted to get an overview of the place. The sounds of the town became softer, the road less traveled, and the air crisper.

Dominic's staff hit a wooden fence that ran along the leaf covered road.

[Dominic]

Dom was thoroughly of the mindset that knowledge was power. He'd made trips like this in most places he'd stayed for any length of time. He'd learned how to keep a mental map of his surroundings in his head, able to relate distances from distinguishing features he could feel, hear or smell. A tree stump, the line of a fence, the feel of the path beneath the feet.

He felt confident he could find his way back to town if he went a bit further into the wooded area. He could hear the rustle of the trees above him, the twitter of birds and skittering of small animals. The mildew smell of leaf mulch mixed with scents of flowers, though it was all occasionally overpowered by a whiff of animal droppings.

He followed the path, clacking his staff against the fence with each sweep before him, deliberately placing each footstep. He walked with an odd, loose kneed, slow gait. He'd learned the hard way that striding forward as you might on a paved road was a good way to end up hurt when travelling woodland paths. It was usually a case not of 'if' but 'when' one of his sweeps of his staff would not pick up on a jutting rock or pothole, so being constantly ready to trip and fall was advantageous, though made the going slow.

Slow going wasn't a problem though. Money, clothing, food, shelter. They were all resouces in scarce supply. But time? That was one thing he had plenty of.

[Kiko]

Kiko paced the Bard. She had seen him exit the town, not by planning, or by any other particular thing, but only chance. Though, she had been coming closer and closer in her wanderings toward Wistvale in the past several weeks. Still, while she was reticent, she was also curious, and both traits encouraged her to follow him. She stayed well back of him for a good long while, too

It wasn't until he reached the fenced path that she came closer, leaped up on the embankment on the opposite side and stayed even with him. She was careful, too. There was none of the wild spooking of birds or small animals that she'd done in the past.

Kiko had learned a bit more stealth in the wolf form.

[Dominic]

He was unaware he was being observed. He actually had quite a good sense of danger, an instinct any traveller might pick up if they were observant enough, but he was not being tailed by a simple wolf. A wolf form with human intelligence could be all but invisible if they wanted.

He reached a gap in the fence, tapping at it to see its nature. It seemed it was intentional, rather than a simple case of disrepair. Perhaps another path? He made a mental note of his relative positioning, turning his face up to the sky and removing his hat for a moment to feel the direction of the warmth of the sun. Not a surefire help, but any bit of information would help him navigate.

The path was not a long one, leading into a meadow. He had walked a score of paces into the open space before noticing the change of accoustics. He let out a long note, like an operatic chord, starting from a low baritone to a surprisingly high tenor. He listened as he projected, for the rebounding sound. Plenty of clear space then, it seemed. Checking the ground around him once more he found it clear of trip hazards. He slipped off his hat and long coat, putting aside his lute and taking up his staff.

He shifted into a fighting stance, staff held at halfway and quarter point, a more Eastern style than a standard quarterstaff form. He began working the staff, along with movements of his feet, into a simple form of block, parry and thrust movements. He kept up the motions he'd been taught, trying to make them completely internalized so he could focus all his concentration on his hearing and touch, his balance and sense of position. He would never be able to see an incoming strike, but if he heard it, could judge its general direction, a sweeping arc of his staff could intercept. He'd defeated a few opportunists this way, not exactly outfighting them, but surprising them with a quick one-two of arcing parry and quick strike to the body. Most muggers flee when an ostensibly defenseless target shows any teeth.

All the practice, though, would count for naught if even a half-competant fighter wanted him dead.

[Kiko]

Kiko stopped dead in her tracks when Dominic left the path and headed into the meadow. She had been rather surprised at his ability to navigate an area he could not see. She expected him to stick to familiar places, take small journeys, or even to choose a populated path. Instead he had managed, alone, to find his way here. Impressive.

She guessed why he'd raised his face to the sun, too. He was using the warmth of it to help guide his steps, much like he'd used the staff to feel the ground before him. But, feel was not the only sense he used. Kiko quickly remembered the tapping in the tavern, and when Dominic threw his voice into wider grassy space she knew why he had done it. The echo.

Her admiration of the Bard went up a notch. He was a wonderful singer, he had a cheerful attitude, and did not take his handicap to heart. He'd found ways to use it, instead. Kiko's lamplight eyes went back to the man. He had taken off his hat and coat. Her gaze sharpened. He knew something of the staff. Excellent.

Kiko scrambled down off the bank and entered the meadow. She switched forms when she did so, too. Her voice was soft, lilting, and steady.

You're a ways out of the tavern, Bard.

[Dominic]

Dominic tensed only for the briefest of seconds when he heard someone approaching. When the voice came, though, he instantly recognized it as the woman who'd requested a song at the tavern, the Eastern Lady. Allowing another little indulgent moment of his talent he greeted her smoothly in her own tongue, then paid a compliment to how beautiful she looked. A willfully blatant nicity, as he had no idea what she actually looked like.

"Oh, I don't like staying cooped up too long, though I do find the local watering hole to be the best place to hear the really juicy stories." he replied, returning to Common tongue. He may have been skilled in language, but a native speaker would be able to spot flaws pretty quickly.

"Don't mind the stick waggling. I ain't gone mad. Just practicing something a kind soul taught me a while back."

[Kiko]

Kiko tossed her head up and laughed.

I thank you for the compliment, Bard. And, as you are no doubt aware, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Myself? I find the reddened leaves on the trees around us beautiful. As is the grass beneath your feet, which has been seared to a golden brown by the autumn sun.

Kiko was suddenly melancholy and her voice tapered off. The lotus blossoms back home would certainly be close to dying now, the fields bare of crops, and the lake emptied of fisherman.

She jerked her head out of the those thoughts.

Mmh. The stick wagging was what brought me over here. I wouldn't have thought you a fighter.

[Dominic]

A grin was offered up, honest rather than sheepish.

"Oh no ma'am. I am not a fighter. Wouldn't deny that I'd like to be able to handle myself against a skilled opponent, what man wouldn't? But the best I can do is swat at anything that sounds dangerous and hope it sticks." He wass essentially accurate. The forms were developed for fighting while in low visibility, taking into account the probability of opponent placement.

"The name's Dominic, by the way. Dominic McAllister. You shouldn't really call me a bard either. I never attended a Bardic Collegium or even a music school." The role of Bard, in its official form, was highly thought of and qalification at the Collegium was required to be officially recognized as a true Bard. He might have musical talent and storytelling ability, but he'd never been formally trained, never been taught proper etiquette. All his history learning came from stories and being read to. No he'd never been able to afford to go there. And if you didn't have papers, you couldn't ask big prices. He'd never gone hungry, his talents saw to that, but being an unqualified songster meant he'd only ever live hand to mouth.

[Kiko]

Kiko made an automatic gesture toward her chest and felt foolish for doing so. She shook her head and dragged a hand over her face instead.

Well, Dominic McAllister you can call me Kiko.

She looked at him again. Kiko took in his presence from his sightless eyes and the staff on his shoulder to the hat and coat in the grass. She'd heard what he said, of course. The admonition about how she should address him.

Traditional study is all well and good, Bard. 'tis easier to garner contacts, fortune, and fame. But, you'll have to pardon me if I name you such. A bard's music comes from the heart, not his credentials. The song I heard in the tavern had heart; the song you sang came from the throat of someone that understands pain, not some lapdog who entertains dilettantes at court.

[Dominic]

He smiled, a little bashfully. Truth be told he was comfortable enough around anyone, regardless of gender, but had not had that much personal interaction with women. Being complimented by a grl was always a treat. He gets a little wistful look on his face while lazily whirling the staff in circles at either side of his body with the rotation of one wrist, a more traditional quarterstaff warmup technique.

"A Bard's more than just song, though. A Bard is entertainer, historian, entrepeneur and journalist all at once. Maybe one day I'll feel like I've learned enough by myself to take that badge. But your compliment makes me feel like one, even so."

[Kiko]

Kiko's mouth lifted in a smile. She should let him be, he left the population of the town for a reason. He entered the empty meadow for a reason. She was the invader here, though he seemed comfortable enough about being approached. She certainly would have been a lot more suspicious of such a random encounter.

She stopped herself from pointing at the staff and spoke instead.

By that token Bard, there will always be more to learn. More stories to tell, more songs to sing, more roads to travel, and certainly more people to meet.

Her voice returned to the melancholy tone from earlier.

[Dominic]

"You sound sad." he simply stated, apropos of nothing. He planted the end of his staff on the ground, leaning on it. His eyes opened, looking unseeingly toward her, a sign that his focus has been drawn entirely to her. He continued "You sounded sad at the tavern too. I hope I didn't cause that."

He wasn't the type to let maudlin things linger though. He lifted a smile and added "You're right of course. Always something new to learn. Heck you could probably teach me all kinds of things." That line could have easily been construed as some form of come-on, but his tone of voice and manner made it abundantly clear he had no such intention.

[Kiko]

No, Bard. You did not cause sadness.

Kiko tried to arrange her thoughts into some semblance of order. She had turned away from him to glance outward, though she heard him plant the staff into the earth.

There was no one waiting for her back home. In truth, she did not miss her homeland. She certainly did not miss the ridicule and hatred. But, it did make her sad and lonely at times. She blamed herself for that, not him. She had invoked the emotion by asking for a song. It was not Dominic's fault that his gift reminded her of her mother.

Teach? Me?

Her voice had gone from melancholy to surprised.

[Dominic]

He turned a hand up in a gesture of affirmation

"Well, between the fact that you were interested in why a blind man might be swinging his stick around and that I didn't hear you coming until you were well within the meadow I'd say there's plenty you could teach. A man who can't see learns how to fight with a stick because his life demands it of him. Anyone who's had a life that's demanded such quietness and possible knowledge of fighting is someone who's learned plenty of lessons themselves." He took a deep breath, letting out a contemplative sigh.

"Not just the rough stuff either. I bet you have all kinds of stories, songs, advice to give. I'd wager you've got mysteries about you. I'd put whatever money I had, if I had any, that someone who sounds that sad, moves that quietly and takes interest in how a man swings a stick is someone with plenty of experience, and secrets."

His face blossomed into a sly grin, his voice becoming conspiratorial "I love secrets most of all. Someone tells you one of their secrets, well, that's special. I love to pass stories on but a bard, a true Bard, is a keeper of secrets too. A true Bard will seek out a person's secrets not to get control over them, but to understand them better, so they may better represent them in word and song."

[Kiko]

Kiko's eyebrows went up exponentially while Dominic spoke, until they practically merged into her hair line. He was certainly quick to turn the game of mutually pleasing diplomacy to one of "go fish". He hung the word "secret" out in front of her like a worm, too. Kiko was sure he expected her to snap it up, as well.

And, who wouldn't? Generally speaking, everyone liked to talk about themselves. Kiko's voice was back to being steady, but there was a tone in it that suggested warning.

"We all have stories, Bard. We all have secrets. To think otherwise would be foolish. To believe one person's tale is more than another's? Folly."