"Oh, um..."  Nana hesitates, glancing over at the dancer.  She holds a finger up to the knight, signaling him to wait.  She rises to her feet and hops down from the crate.

"For you.  Thank you," Nana says reaching into the basket for a few coins and dropping them into the woman's palm.  Unable to evade her puzzled look, and worried that she might give offense to the knight, she shrugs and mumbles, "Well, maybe even the king needs a good song in these dark days, you know?"  Hopefully she would tell the story.  The songstress summoned to perform before King Eisen III himself.  Not a bad rumor to start.

Still, this was troubling.  Life had been quieter, if not richer, of late, and she had hoped to enjoy tranquility a little longer.

But the heavens pull us this way and that, she thinks, And perhaps peacefulness will not be my way just now.  Nana sighs, picks up her basket with her meager earnings, and gives the armored man a nod, consenting to go with him.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Wed 06 Jan 2010.

"Me?  Now?  Certainly," Olven says, stopping in the street and turning toward the messenger.  "Lead the way, good sir knight."  The king, eh?  Olven briefly wonders what has brought on this summons.  Hopefully, work, and if the king wants him, well-paying work.  Eh, well.  He'll find out soon enough, anyway.  A pity he didn't have his gear with him, but unless the king wants him to slay a dragon in the throne room, Olven should have enough time to retrieve his gear.

The two knights led Olven and Nana to Dragonword Keep. The walls surrounding the keep and its grounds were two miles long and enclosed a quarter of a square mile.

The Dragon High Lord in charge of the Blue Dragon Army had used the keep as his headquarters after the city had been sacked, though his stay wasn't that long. The Blue Lady that replaced him in preferred to have her headquarters at Dargaard Keep with Lord Soth, the Death Knight.

The palace was a magnificent building, but rumors talked of plans for building an even more magnificent building to commemorate what had happened to them.

The gates to the palace yard were open and only two knights of the crown were stationed there, the guests where quickly showed inside. They were directed past many smaller buildings to the main gate of the palace itself. Inside the oppulent home they were led to a waiting area and asked to wait there until His Majesty.

Nana arrived first and Olven some time later.

As Olven is led through the Keep, he casually eyes the stone fortifications and the number of guards on duty presently.  He commits the path to memory as they progress, noting any buildings of consequence along the way.  If the Keep were attacked again and needed to be defended, he would no doubt be called upon.  If the Keep were to fall again . . .he decides not to think any longer upon that.  Best to save Ifs for when they become realities.

When he arrives in the waiting area, he notes the human female already here ahead of him.  Ah, the musician from the marketplace.  Unusual to see someone like her here in Dragonword Keep.  Then again, the King doesn't make a habit of summoning mercenaries into his presence, either.  He nods his head in recognition and smiles briefly, then sits back to wait.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:20, Thu 07 Jan 2010.

When Olven arrives, Nana is seated, her head down, quietly humming a tune to herself as she fingers the ocarina in her hands.  Her hair looks as though she has tried to neaten it, but it doesn't help much.  Her clothes are loose and flowing, made of exotic, patterned fabrics.  But their hues are faded, and her sandals look rather worn.

Hearing the man's footsteps, she looks up and catches his brief smile.  She returns it with an uncertain smile of her own.

"You," She begins, hesitant and puzzled, "What are you doing here?"

Olven shrugs his shoulders.  "I guess the king's going to fill me in."  He leans back against the wall and looks around the room.  "I was heading home when a knight stopped me, told me I was summoned, and here I am."  He gestures around the room.  "Nice quarters, aye?  It's good to be the king, I guess."

He grins.  "We must both be pretty important people to be summoned by the king himself."

"Maybe ... " Nana wrinkles her brow and looks thoughtful for a moment.  It was dangerous business, being important.  She slips her ocarina into her pocket.

"Who are you?"

"Me?  Olven Wolf, mercenary, at your service."  Grinning, Olven nods his head in greeting once more.  "I fought during the war to help free Kalaman, and after the fighting was over, I stuck around to help rebuild.  Now, the city's kind of my second home."

He looks at her ocarina, then says, "Must be a hard life, having to make it just on your music alone.  Most folks in the city are trying to put their lives back together, don't have much extra to give.  It's good for them to hear music, though.  Brings a little joy to their lives."  Aye, it's a hard life to live on the kindness of others, he thinks to himself.  I hope you have a place to lay your head, little bird.

Standing back up, he remains ready to follow once the King is ready to see the both of them.

A mercenary, of course, but what else could she have expected?  She might have hoped, but she did not think for a moment that it was her songs upon which the throne came calling.  I suppose this means we have something in common, Nana reflects.

"It is not so terrible.  Kalaman is always generous," Nana replies in her accented Solamnic, "And besides, how can a city be built without music?  A city without music is a city without a heart.  I think Kalaman's people know this."

She rises to her feet with a quick jump, restlessly.  "I am called Nana."

"Nana, it's good to meet you," Olven says, his eyes twinkling.  He rubs his chin as he considers her words.  "I suppose I never thought about the importance of music to a city's well-being, but you're right."  He smiles once more.  "Though more than music is needed to keep a city at peace.  Blades and shields are needed as well."

However, a city with nothing but weapons and armor is merely a fortification, he thinks.  People are what make a city what it is.  Art, music, and learning all play a role, but if they are a city's heart, then its people are the city's lifeblood.  He rubs his chin and allows himself a small smile.  Ah, philosophy.

"Well," Nana hesitates, "Yes.  I think that will be why we are here.  Not for music."  She shakes her head.  "It is good to meet you also, Olven."

Folding his arms, Olven says, "I take it then that you are not a full-time street musician.  You are a warrior?" Half question, half statement, Olven realizes that his initial assessment of the woman was flawed.

He looks at the woman more carefully.  She is as tall as he is, and she carries herself confidently, with an easy grace.  She is perhaps as capable as he is himself, if not more so.  "I trust that we will be able to serve the king well, then."

"Oh, I am a musician all the time," Nana laughs a little sadly, but she seems calmer now, anyway, "Every day, I play somewhere in this city for the people.  Only, I think probably not anymore.  Not just now."

She pauses and thinks for a moment, "You know, though, now, maybe it turns out the king only wants you to fight, and from me, he only wants a song.  Then, I would sound very silly for saying these things so soon."  She smiles genuinely, if a little sardonically.

Olven shrugs.  "It may be as you say.  We'll find out when he's ready for us, at any rate."  He takes a seat and crosses his arms, waiting for the king's summons.  "You must see a lot of the city, then.  Everyone always remembers the names of the conquerors, but no one chronicles the rebuilders.  Perhaps, if you write music as well, you could tell their story someday."

"That may be so.  I will think about it."

She looks away for a moment, then returns her eyes to him and asks, "Do you seek fame?"

Watching Olven move restlessly as they converse, Nana thinks that he seems impatient.  Well... It has been a long wait.

Handar is sitting in a tavern, supping on a glass of mead.  This tavern, a place called the hair and hounds, gets a little rough sometimes, but it has been a good few days since the last brawl.  Though it's hard to tell while he's sitting down, he's a little under six feet tall.  He has short, dark brown hair, blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard.

A knight of solamnia entered the tavern in full armor, a sight not often seen in this tavern, so voices quieted down and the tavernkeeper walked up to the knight, who was turning his head as if surveying the room.

"What can I help you with," the tavernkeeper asked.

"I am here for someone," the knight replied and continued to scan the room a little while further. When he saw Handar, he walked in his direction and stopped when he reached the table at which he sat drinking.

"His Majesty Eisen III wants to see you now," the knight said.

"His Majesty wants to see me?" Handar asks, his eyebrow raised slightly, then shrugs and finishes his mead.  He rises to his feet and continues, "Well, I suppose if he wants to see me badly enough that he's sent an armoured knight, I suppose I shouldn't disappoint him."

"A wise choice," the knight said and smiled. The two left the tavern and the knight led Handar through the city to Dragonword Keep. Once inside, Handar was led to a waiting area where two others already waited.

[OOC: You can look at post 12 for a very quick description of the palace]

Handar does much the same as Olven did, though for an entirely different reason; successfully robbing a king would definitely be a tale for the grand kids.  That, and should he ever need to escape, knowing the route would be very useful.

Once he is led into the room, he gives the other two a nod by way of greeting.  He smells faintly of alcohol.  "I don't suppose either of you two knows what this is about, do you?"

Olven shakes his head.  "I haven't the foggiest idea," he says, smiling.  "I'm Olven, and this is Nana.  We've been waiting for a few minutes, but if the King wants to keep me waiting, I don't mind."  Olven settles back in his seat, but his eyes never rest in one place for very long.  "You smell like you were enjoying yourself, wherever you were summoned from."

Nana nods to Handar, allowing Olven's introduction of her to suffice.  She appears restless, looking around the room idly and tapping out a complex rhythm on her hips.

Handar shrugs.  "Aye, I was relaxing with a nice glass of mead in one of the taverns; not much else to do, with half the kingdom homeless these days...  I'm Handar; a merchant of sorts."

Nana's fingers stop tapping.  "Business is good, then?" She inquires.

Nodding his head in greeting, Olven waits for Handar's answer, then says, "We're an eclectic mix, aren't we?  A merchant, a musician, and a merc - sounds like a joke, eh?"  He grins again, placing his hands on his legs and leaning forward.  "Maybe after we finish with our royal audience, the three of us can go partake of the cups you were enjoying, Handar."