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Gaia Username: Tarma_Falloner
Name: Arielle, aka Arielle Moonsong, Bard to the Court of the Nine, aka Arielle Silvertongued, aka Arielle of the Strings, etc. etc.
Race: Human
Personality: Arielle is a curious creature: bright and almost child-like in her whole-hearted enjoyment of simple things one minute, and strutting about like a vain peacock with put-on airs she assumes a bard ought to demonstrate the next. However, inspite of these annoying episodes, the woman is a genuinely pleasant personage to be around most of the time. She is willing to befriend just about anyone regardless of how sensible it might not be to be so trusting of utter strangers; this quite often gets her into trouble. Despite her grand titles (which she will spout off at the least provocation if you don't stop her in time), and the talent to back them up, the girl is not well-traveled. This is, in fact, her first foray into the world as a traveling player, and her naiveté can be quite astounding considering she's a grown woman...
Background/World of origin: A traveling bard from the Great White City of Ancar, capital to the peaceful island realm of Aleron.
Talents: Singing, story-telling, and playing the mandolin.
How you came to be lost: Lost?! A Court Bard does not get lost! *scoff*
Appearance:
Height- 5'7" with the aid of heeled boots.
Weight- 130 lbs.
Eye Color- Golden brown.
Hair Color- White shot through with silver; how it came to be that color in one so young is an epic tale in and of itself...
Apparel- Sturdily laced knee-high boots in light brown leather; black leggings; a bright plum colored silk tunic, nipped at the waist by a leather belt hung with a small coin pouch; long black gloves, which are fingerless to allow for direct string contact while playing, as no true musician would be caught dead playing with gloves on. A warm blue scarf is draped about her shoulders, and a hair ribbon in a coordinating tone keeps some of her hair back from her face. Wrist adornments consist of a red boot lace that she is very stubborn about removing, insisting that it "has it's uses", and two gold bangles set with small orbs of turquoise which belonged to her parents. Another story lies there, perhaps.
Gear Carried- A small brown knapsack containing basic foodstuffs, some coin of the realm if business has been good, as well as basic supplies for healing, such as bandages and herbs; a short bone-handled knife, looking to be more a tool than a weapon; and lastly, an ornately carved mandolin of gleaming fawn-toned wood which in the right hands creates melodies to make the very soul of a man weep...! Of course, by right hands, she means her hands. You no touchy!
[Artwork Below]


((Heh, hope this is otay. sweatdrop ))

Alec smiled at Kenzie then picked her up and placed her on the floor infront of her. He smiled and kissed her forehead then began to run his hands through her hair. "I'm glad that you're happy here." Alec whispered to her.

Kenzie smiled and sighed as he played with her hair.

"I," Bri looked around at Alec and Kenzie, "We, I presume, are not in much of a hurry." Bri sat down in her high backed chair once more, crossing her ankles and looking up with a smile at Barlow.

"Do I ever say no about sharing stories?" she asked with a lilting story. "Anyways, I have a story from the Desert of Cardon that I've been trying to remeber since I sat down here and I finally did."

Bri folded up her legs and leaned forward, thoroughly please she had found a place he hadn't had stories from. "I traveled across with a caravan of gypsies and boy did they have their share of tales but they had only one that really caught my interest. It was told by a torn but lively woman with shocking red hair and this is what she told to me:"

"When I was but a small child, as old as you are," Bri pointed to herself, "I was the most wild of sorts. I think I still am sometimes but these days those times seem farther and farther away. I left my beautifull home in the oasis to join a circus, any wild childs dream. Now this wasn't any circus, this was the Nocturne, the best of any performers on the Bard Thame Penisila. And the most beautifull performers too. " She told the story completely from the gypsy's point of view and relishing in the character as she spoke, "They were hesitant to let any child of the age 16 passes in but I had studied dutifully in the art of violin and as it happened they needed a musician, there last one leaving the world only a week before. I was put to work immediatly, my tutors for the next weeks the most cruel and the most brilliant people I had ever met. I spent many nights sucking and nurting my bleeding and raw fingers. The once golden violin they had given me was painted dark red with stain, after two months of such practice we had our first performance and I played a tango for the most lovely contortionist couple. I practiced with them day and night until my head and my arm fell with sleep. The night before, the three of us got our rest and a grande feast."

"Morning came before the sun had risen and we set up the great big canvass tents and people worked there routines. We were to be the closing act and so we were. The time came quickly, faster than we expected. I was the first to step out, one of the painted clowns lifted me onto his shoulders and I stepped lightly onto the thin rope that I would be playing from. My toes curled around the steel and I gained my balance, completley freezing, making my speeding heart slow. The couple came out next, almost like wraiths in there beautifull white painted faces and gauzy costumes that I adored so much. "

"They took there places and I was the first to strike that note, that rich vibration resonating through out the enitre tent, drawing in the breathes of our audience and then the spell began and I raced up the finger bored, my eyes closed and my entire body reigid as I played those notes all the way up. I had seen the couple dancing before, each move sketched into my mind. I did not falter even on the switch of the bow or when I had to walk across the rope. The song ended centuries later with a great flourish. I opened my eyes again, surprised at how big the world seemed and how completley close it was. I looked down at the pair below me and the panic welled. I staired for what seemed a second eternity as the man looked franticly into her eyes and then I realized that he held death in his arms. The poor woman had danced herself to ashes. The audience never noticed, they were to enthralled, the visuall had given them a high and the music had only escalated it."

"I played for Nocturne for many many years, I saw the very greatest get swept from their life on their last performance. I never met that fate, I was never lucky enough to. Finally one day, the ring leader died himself and the circus departed to live their own lives. I left and joined the gypsies, where I played for them."

Bri sat for only a second as she switched characters, coming back to herself. "Then after finnishing her story, the gypsy pulled out that instrument that had cost her many nights and much blood and she played the most soul full saddenly song." She leaned her head against her palm, remembering that night out on the desert.

"Cardon was such a magical and ruthless place and the gypsies were very much a contrast to it though magical but also very kind and flexible." Bri threaded together her fingers and rested her chin on it with a modest grin. "Thank you and yes I would very much love to here your's"

Bri laughed, "I have heard that baking soda would have worked on taking rust off just as well as it had doused those flames. Most interesting though, that Rob, he seems like a very intelligent creature. Though maybe not in taking rust off...." She cracked a smile and yawned.

Barlow shook his head sadly. "Rob had a certain cleveness and cunning, that is certain. But thinking a matter through before he acted was not his greatest strength. I would remember him more fondly if he had not directly contributed to the downfall of the house."

Seeing Bri yawn, Barlow leaned forward in his chair. "Ah, I'm sorry," he said with a smile. "The journey, the warm fire and the long stories must be conspiring to make you quite tired indeed. Dinner should be ready any moment, and your room is ready for you whenever you wish to retire."