[center][h2][color=a187be]Ren Verte[/color][/h2]
[h3][i]Tavern Musician[/i][/h3][/center]

Major Interaction:  [@Hokum]
Minor Interaction:  [@lozi]

There were two ways one earned a living back in Aryali, and it differed little even here in this quaint tavern in Nadska.  During the early hours of night, Ren's flute sounded off in vibrant melodies which serenaded the otherwise grumbling drinking house.  The tavern owner was kind enough to employ him as a musician for his establishment, though, with the condition that he gets a portion of Ren's earnings from his midnight trysts.  The works of the flesh earned greatly in these times of worry and blood; the more stressed anyone became, the more likely they sought comfort in the arms of another.  Whether the soldiers be men or women, it mattered little so long as the coins kept flowing.  He was a filthy vermin, stained with the sweat and spit of countless denizens who warmed only Ren's pockets.  But, pride and purity found it impossible to fill the pockets of a beggar, or the belly of a famished child.  The young lad gripped his flute tighter at the memory of judging stares and scornful glares, but he quickly shoved the visions away with the smile of the orphans who came into Nadska after their villages were torn asunder by forces beyond man.

Ren swore that what happened to Alaya would never happen to these poor souls caught in a war that they know not of, and if it meant desecrating his whole being, then, so be it-- if only to make sure that these children would never know the horrors of this merciless world.

Ren always had a soft spot for those alone and forgotten, and as such, it came as no surprise when his purple orbs caught sight of a hooded loner at the edges of the bar.  With back bent and head lowered, this isolated creature seemed to be having a terrible night.  The strong Nordic ale sitting on the guest's table only strengthened the prior point as Ren knew that no one drank one of the tavern's strongest drinks if it wasn't to kill the monsters inside one's head.  Oh, he would know.  Ren did try to drown the monsters with one or two pints of mead, and still, the horrors came upon the light of the morrow.  The melodies from his flute stopped as Ren's lips parted from the embouchure.  He breathed out a silent sigh before prodding over to the barkeep.

As he arrived there, he bore witness to the rare sight of a man...  horse...  hybrid...?  Whatever.  The ipo-something's request caught in Ren's ear before he smiled at the barkeep.  He placed a few silver pieces on the table, gesturing to the basket of fruits sitting near the casks of ale and mead.  The barkeep, Queno, peered at the tavern musician as he nodded his head in agreement.  The stout barkeep had known Ren since the lad moved in almost two fortnights ago.  He quickly realized that Ren was liberal in paying for peculiar customers, most probably ones that seemed to need help.  Ren returned Queno's stare with a wink before the annoyed man huffed.  He swiped the silver pieces, and retrieved the basket of assorted fruits whilst handing it to Ren.  In return, the musician bowed to the barkeep and turned to the horse-man hybrid with a grin.  Ren offered the basket to him, his right hand gesturing from his chest to the horse-man as if saying 'this one's on me'.

Whether or not the man would accept it, Ren turned again to Queno, bringing out a precious gold coin.  Ren made a series of movements with hands, like a stirring motion over what seemed to be a bowl as well as bringing an imaginary object to his biting mouth.  Queno nodded, understanding this as signs for porridge and bread.  The man promptly brought out the warm foods which Ren received with another bow.  He soon went in the direction of the loner once more.

No one deserved to be alone in this cruel land.  Ren believed that while it was impossible to change the entire world, if he could just help as many as he could, then, for those people, he would have at least changed [i]their[/i] own world.  To help another was a small, insignificant thing, but for him, there was nothing more precious than giving your own time to someone else who needed it.  So, there he was setting the tray on the hooded figure's table.  Without hesitation, he sat opposite what appeared to be a woman.  She held a terrifying scowl, but Ren had his own fair shares of death glares.  This one was no different.

He raised his hands, pointing at the porridge and bread before gesturing to the woman.  He lifted his right hand to his lips as if with a spoon.  Then, he pointed to the Nordic drink and tapped his left bicep; and, afterwards, he swiped his fingers across his forehead before ending his signs with a circular rub on his belly.  He hoped that he got his message across as he wanted to express that she should eat since the drink she chose tended to have an amazing (and, by amazing, he meant being passed out on the floor kind of amazing) effect if people are on an empty stomach.  He was a terrible conversation partner mainly due to his inability to speak, but he really was worried for her health.  He wondered what monsters she needed to kill, and while he never wanted to pry, a spark of curiosity entered his mind at the thought of who this woman really was.

Ren raised his hands again, pointing at his throat before shaking his hands sideward and shaking his head to indicate that he was mute.  His eyes landed on the food once again, and gestured to the food before making a sign of pulling out a coin from a purse before pointing to himself-- as if saying 'I'm paying for it'.  He tried to smile at her, hoping, praying that she would at least try to open up to him, so that he could help her with her problems.  But, Ren figured that he should start with basic conversations rather than jumping the barrel, and going straight to the real questions.  In all fairness, she looked easy on the eyes, and while her scowl still terrified him to some extent, he figured that if she wanted him dead, then, she could have done it already.

Not that she could kill him easily, though.

His hands rose once more before pointing at the woman, and then, Ren placed the side of his right palm over his eyebrows before moving his head side to side, accompanied by a shrug of his shoulders to ask her if she was looking for something.  Then, he pointed to himself before making a motion of lifting something and then pointing at her, as if asking how he could help her.

There was something about her that reeked of darkness.  Ren already had a wide array of experiences with that kind of aura.  Brooding alone at the margins of society was always a sign of trouble, and while most people would just leave them alone, Ren could not fathom how everyone else would just ignore this cry for help.  She was strong, that was for sure (probably, stronger than him, really), but no one has to be strong forever; after all, for Ren, there was nothing wrong with asking for help, because true strength was not about being able to do it alone, but in admitting that you still need help, no matter how small or large.