Music to Soothe (An SG Chosen RP, Rashad Ranch RP)

[Quibby]

A breeze rustled the tall grass in Cairhien, sighing through the trees. It lingered for a moment before catching the edge of a patch-covered cloak, almost as if it feared the man beneath it. A thought of vanity, of course, he thought as he allowed the breeze to blow over him, reveling in the sensation. Many would call the man handsome, with his dark hair and even darker eyes. The features hidden below the finely woven and inverted webs of Illusion were no less striking, but different all the same, all except the eyes and hair; the man could not bring himself to change those. The face below the Illusion, the face of a monster. The face of a man long dead. The face of a man reborn to serve a new Master. The face of one Chosen to rule the world. The face of Asmodean.

 

Despite the rhetoric and the constant preaching of the masses, Asmodean did not think of himself as evil, nor did he think of those opposed to him as evil; they were simply misinformed and wrong-headed. These primitives, though, were less accepting than the people of his Age.

 

Adjusting the patch-covered cloak, Asmodean resumed his leisurely pace, reflecting on his situation. The world in which he had awakened was three thousand years dead, taking with it things that he had taken for granted. This Shadow-blasted Age didn’t even have anything resembling an orchestra! The closest thing they had were these ‘gleemen.’ Spiriting one of them away was not too hard, and Asmodean quickly learned as much as he needed to get by, leaving the rest of the poor man to the vultures. The disguise served other purposes as well. Upon awakening, Asmodean had fled Shayol Ghul as quickly as he could open a gateway. The Chosen plotted amongst themselves as often as they had against the Light, and the weak were gradually killed. The Chosen were far crueler than any animal of which Asmodean knew.

 

As he walked, Asmodean began humming, often wrinkling his face as he reworked some of the phrases. He still thought of himself as a musician, and even without a proper ensemble, he would continue to compose. With all of eternity stretched out before him, they would eventually learn the potential of music. The thought was enough to bring a smile to Asmodean’s face.

 

He was still smiling when he broke the treeline unexpectedly and found himself in a pasture. And judging from the soft spot where he had stepped, it was not abandoned. Wiping his foot in the grass as he walked, Asmodean approached the fence separating the rest of the ranch from the pasture. As he neared, though, Asmodean began noticing some subtle things that did not bode well. For instance, it took quite awhile for someone to notice his approach. Even then, it didn’t affect him the way most people were when they saw a gleeman. Then the state of the place began to become clearer. Great Lord! What happened to this place?

 

At the fence, Asmodean was finally able to flag somebody to him. Smiling warmly, his hands moved in the proper gestures to name him a Friend of the Dark in the highest circles. The sudden amazement and fear in the person’s eyes made his standing more than clear. To calm him down, Asmodean loudly introduced himself to those present. “Good day, friends! I am Jeros Nameros, gleeman.â€

 

 

[Matalina]

Cari and Glen had been out in the pastures looking for any remaining livestock that was alive and suffering. The fog had done a number on the livestock and Cari and Glen were the most suited to doing what needed to be done. Killing bothered neither of them and they enjoyed the taskes.

 

Covered in blood from the last mare that was sufferring needlessly, Cari saw a man in a flapping cloak. A gleeman, but Cari wasn't in the mood to be cheerful and his flourish of hands could signal no other thing, he was a darkfriend. Cari really wasn't in the mood to be happy, but it would be good for the children.

 

Cari tried her best to smile, but the darkness with in made it difficult to do, killing always brought out the worst in the former warder. Cari nodded. "You've come at a time where joy is in much need." Cari hopped over the fence. "I will take you to the Master of the Ranch. He is our highest here and will be able to accomodate you." She hoped he understood her meaning. Nathan Rashad was their leader, they all obeyed his command, even if they could flay him alive with the One Power. Cari shuddered involuntarily at the thought, the One Power was not something she enjoyed, and there were two women who could channel now. Cari sighed.

 

OOC: Cari will take you to Nathan, and Nathan will then tell Cari to settle you in, but I"ll let you handle the converstation with Nathan.

[Quibby]

The woman that greeted Asmodean tried her best to put on a welcoming smile, not an easy task considering the amount of blood on her hands, face, and clothes. "You have come at a time when joy is in much need." Obviously, Asmodean thought, though he refrained from asking anything further; there'd be time for that later. Hopping over the fence, the woman added, "I will take you to the Master of the Ranch. He is our highest here, and will be able to accomodate you."

 

With a gracious nod, Asmodean thanked the woman and followed as she set a blistering path through the dirt alleys of what could almost be called a village. To his somewhat shocked surprise, the devastation that had occurred in the field happened here, as well. Blood and ichor stained the walls and dirt, and a general air of disaster seemed to eminate from the place.

 

Not a moment too soon, Asmodean found his eyes hidden from the sights outside by the inside of a decent ranch house... or decent by the 'modern' day's standards. The woman opened a door for him, gesturing for him to enter.

 

The room Asmodean found within was like a cross between a sitting room and an office, with two couches and a small table on one side and a desk and three chairs on the other. Behind the desk sat a man that Asmodean assumed was the man in charge, a suspicion confirmed by the woman's gesture towards him. Approaching the desk, Asmodean genuflected, his hands flashing again in the sign of a Darkfriend. "I am Jaros Nameros, a simple gleeman. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

 

The man behind the desk looked up to see who was addressing him with a face full of sadness and exhaustion, coupled with something that Asmodean couldn't recognize. For a moment, the man seemed to be sizing him up, but he did finally speak. "I am Nathan Rashad, Master of the Rashad Ranch. I apologize for the reception you've received, but we're recovering from a recent tragedy. Please, have a seat."

 

Asmodean complied, casting a quick glance at the woman standing next to him. Nathan must have noticed; his next words were directed at the woman. "Cari, if you could wait outside, please." The woman gave a stiff nod and turned to leave the room, giving Asmodean a chance to study her. A rather attractive woman, but the way she carried herself spoke of a trained fighter. Shifting his attention back to the man behind the desk, Asmodean asked, "If I may be so bold, Master Rashad, just what in the name of the Great Lord happened here?"

 

The Darkfriend gave him an odd look, as if he was reassessing the man seated across from him. Asmodean found himself idly wondering what the man would do if he discovered who sat across from him. After a pause, the man finally spoke, relating a tale that Asmodean would have dismissed as insane if not for the state of the place and the conviction of the man telling the tale.

 

"So this... mist did all of this?" Asmodean didn't really register the man's answer; his mind was spinning. Nothing like this had been done in his time. Maybe Mesaana or Ishamael would be able to puzzle it out, though there was no way that Asmodean was going to ask. You know... this could make for a good epic poem or the like. The thought struck out of nowhere. All that was needed was a good excuse to stay around. "Master Rashad, I'd like to stay around for a while and offer what assistance I can. It won't be much, but a good laugh and a trip from reality can at least help the young ones."

 

Master Rashad sat back in his chair, casting another appraising eye over Asmodean. Finally he sat up again and said loudly, "Cari, could you come back in here, please?" Asmodean refrained from turning to see if she had entered the room again. Instead, he listened as Nathan issued his orders to the woman. "Could you please show Master Nameros to a room. He'll be staying awhile to help the morale of the Ranch." At her affirmative, Asmodean stood and nodded to the woman. "After you, Mistress."

 

[Matalina]

Cari almost laughed but she had just been chided for bring gore and ichor into the Ranch house. So her humor was lost on him. "My name is Cari, save Mistress for Miss Sara, she is the Mistress of this house, I'm but mere help."

 

Cari lead the way down the hall way to an empty room. She decided to play the man between Glen and Franc's room, instead of with Nalia. Cari was a bit biased in her placement, but then she did avoid Nalia on most occassions. Cari pushed open the door to the room. "You'll be staying here. There should be a key in the top drawer of the bureru for this door." Cari offered a smile

 

Cari started with a few instructions. "There are three children who live here on the Ranch, and only one beleives the Great Lord is the correct path to follow. But they are not the only denizens of the Ranch that do not beleive so, there are adults employed as well, not that I need to remind you, but your identity as a Friend should remain hidden. Those that need to know will."

 

"Is there anything else you need? A Tour any questions on schedules or anything? I'm here to answer your questions, but I do have work I need to get back to."

 

Cari

 

OOC: Your description of the house is a bit off, but we'll let it slide, lol... http://matalina.aliciawilkerson.com - has a decent layout of the house as well as what furniture is where. You are staying in room #9 of the ranch house.

[Quibby]

Woman, you have no idea how right you are. A nest like this one was a rare find, and Asmodean had the distinct feeling that he was not the first of the Chosen to find it. If he had to venture a guess, he would have said Rahvin or Sammael, possibly Osan'gar. Those three tended to be the three most active recruiters among the Chosen.

 

"Is there anything else you need? A tour, any questions on schedules or anything? I'm here to answer your questions, but I do have work I need to get back to." Asmodean would have laughed, but the humor would have been lost on the woman without her knowing who was truly laughing. There were few who would dismiss him so casually if they knew his true name. It's so nice to be normal again, he thought happily. "No, thank you, Cari. I think I can work my way around on my own. Maybe I'll go find the children; they'll need the most help after this whole business."

 

Asmodean waited for the woman to leave before leaving the house himself, leaving his bag on the floor and taking his harp and flute, in case he did find the children. Despite the worst stories about him- many of which were true- Asmodean had something resembling fondness for children. Besides, how was he to record the incident if he retrieved no stories of the incident. Maybe he would ask about what could have caused it the next time he was among the Chosen.

 

[ashara]

Every second seemed to past a little slower,

Every scream was a little shriller,

Every cry a little more haunting.

 

This is death.

 

Everything is mortal, but I will remember their screams.

Everything is mortal, but I will remember those seconds.

 

This is the mist. This is death.

 

 

“Adela?â€

 

Blinking, she looked up, confused and more than just surprised by the disturbance. Upon seeing who it was, she brought herself to smile. Taylor Rashad may be a nine year old, and he may be ignorant, but oh, what impeccable timing. “Come for cookies? Nona’s run out right now.†The shock on his face spoke volumes, but somehow, she was not in the mood to explain. “We can always bake some though and maybe if we don’t burn the whole house down, we’ll get to make some a second time too.†she finished, poking him in the ribs playfully as she looked at her reflection in the little mirror she had just bought herself. If only she could do something about her hair…

 

It was then that she noticed that Taylor was clutching something. And for once, it was not a cookie. “Taylor, what’re you holding? Made something new?†So that’s why he’d come. It had been only a few weeks ago that Adela had discovered his talent for mechanical objects and it had been something she had discovered with delight. She turned around so that she faced him and watched quietly as he unwrapped the cloth around it. It was with more than just surprise that she found herself staring at a large rag doll. Her large rag doll, for that matter. She wasn’t even aware that Mandy had left her room. She was about to yell, about to cut him down and make him understand that he could not touch her things when suddenly, Mandy began to move. Slowly, creakily even, but she was moving.

 

“Did you-did you make that on your own?â€

 

“Mhm.†Smiling happily, Taylor Rashad had certainly achieved success.

 

Great Lord of Dark. The boy was a genius.

 

Adela paused, unsure about what to say next, her mind furiously trying to calculate what this meant when suddenly, yet another child entered. Arim burst in, his eyes shining: “There’s a gleeman at the Ranch! A gleeman in our Ranch. Mistress Sara said you should come.†And with that, he disappeared again.

 

“Let’s go Taylor boy.â€They both got up, Adela secretly relieved she didn’t have to deal with Taylor just then and Taylor? Well who the hell knew what went through his mind, anyway? Geniuses are geniuses, she told herself with a wry smile. Adela had never met a gleeman before and although she had heard her fair share of stories about them and the stories they told, she couldn’t help wanting to meet one. Maybe it was childish, but she had always wanted to when she had been younger and besides, she could always say she was “taking care of Taylor.†Excuses could be so very useful sometimes.

 

Adela Llafynne

 

OOC: I wasn't able to find a good way to bring you in. :? Maybe he could come across a small group of children sitting in a circle somewhere and Adela could be there as well? Let me know if I should edit. :D

[Quibby]

Ah, this looks like as good a place as any to start, Asmodean thought as he seated himself at the corner of an outlying building. Down the street, he could see two children, a boy of about nine and a girl of about 13 or 14, talking to each other. Another boy soon joined them, talking and gesturing excitedly; apparently he'd heard about the gleeman in the Ranch. Asmodean smiled unabashedly; children were often more receptive and appreciative of good music than their adult counterparts.

 

As the three started off together, Asmodean lifted his flute to his lips and began playing. It wouldn't be a tune that any of the children would know, he was sure; Asmodean himself didn't even know it. He just wanted something upbeat and lively, something that would draw the three in. Something to take their minds off the recent events. Asmodean slowly began to lose even himself in the music, his fingers dancing on the flute, making the instrument do things that the people of this Age probably didn't even think was possible.

 

He didn't know how long he played, and he didn't know if he would be able to remember it later, but when he did finally return to reality, Asmodean looked up to see three young, bright faces. Smiling amiably, Asmodean said, "Hello, little friends. My name is Jaros Nameros. What would you like to hear: a story or a song? Or do you wish to see me perform?" As he spoke, Asmodean produced three balls from one of his sleeves and began juggling. It wasn't too hard for him to pick up the skill; he'd always had deft hands. As the children continued to watch, the three became four, then five. Smiling at them again, Asmodean asked, "So what will it be?"

[TaeaDawn]

And more than children came to see the Gleeman playing. Demus had been walking past when he heard the music and saw the children. He'd heard about the Gleeman also, but hadn't planned on jumping in to find him. However, now that he was here, he decided to stop for a few minutes. The Gleeman seemed lost in the music and the kids were too. It was good to see that, with everything that had happened lately. They needed to keep their spirits up. In truth, seeing the kid's spirits raised would help all of them get through this.

 

Demus was still new enough that he hadn't lost anything when the killer fog had come through the Ranch, but he was a caring person and seeing other people in their grief affected him. So he decided to take a few minutes and said nothing as the Gleeman began speaking to the children. He nodded in greeting but just watched the kids reaction to the Gleeman, his music, and his words.

 

[ashara]

She was still talking to her little friends when the music floating up towards her caught her off guard and made her turn and look. The gleeman had arrived. For a few moments, Adela just stared at him, trying to intake every little thing about him- from the patched cloak to the glittering eyes to the long, skilled fingers that were coursing up and down the flute. Somehow, even though she was not a child of six like the rest of the gatherers, the music calmed her. It felt like there was a hand patting her back, telling her to let it go.

 

How was that possible?

 

Music had never appealed greatly to Adela. She enjoyed it as a rare time to time treat, but she hadn’t been like her elder brother, Fredrik, whose main path in life had always been music. He used to sleep to it, he used to wake to it and in his waking hours, he used to play it. He had been quite skilled, she remembered. And yet, the man standing before her now had far more skills with his flute than Fredrik had ever had, but as the music drew her in deeper, she couldn’t help thinking that maybe he was better than most.

 

"Hello, little friends. My name is Jaros Nameros. What would you like to hear: a story or a song? Or do you wish to see me perform?"

 

“A story!†cried Taylor and soon, other voices followed, loudly and in agreement with Taylor too: “Yes! We want a story!†A story it would be then, she thought dismissively as she looked upon the gleeman. Which story though, now that was really the question.

[Quibby]

Asmodean acknowledged the man standing behind the children. One of the Ranch's many denziens of the Shadow, he was sure. With a smile, he gestured for the man to sit with the children if he so wished. Turning the gesture into something grand and proclamatory, Asmodean said with a smile on his face, "A story it shall be then, my young friends!" Asmodean made the flute deftly disappear into a hidden pocket inside of his cloak and pulled his harp out of its case. Running a hand along the strings, Asmodean quickly tuned the instrument. There. He was ready.

 

With a small smile, Asmodean's deft fingers began plucking the strings of the harp, the notes blending to create an air of mocking grandeur. "Sit back, my friends, and listen well," Asmodean declaimed. "For I have a story I wish to tell. A story of kings, and of riches untold. A story of a girl with hair of gold." This was not the way that the story had been told to Asmodean. He had memorized it in Common, Low, and High Chant, but none of those renditions could do the story's humor justice. It was Low Chant that he used, but he was sure that these children had never heard it in this way before. "Get ready, dear friends, for I shall now sing the song of Mara and the Three Foolish Kings!"

 

OOC: I have no idea how this story goes, so I'll leave it to your imaginations. If any of you have any ideas, feel free to PM me; this is an RP to establish Asmodean's character.

[TaeaDawn]

It was interesting to listen to the story and the children's reactions made him smile to himself. Man of the shadow or not, he could still enjoy the innocence of most of these children. He wasn't so certain that all children were innocent, but so far these seemed to be kept in line well.

 

The gleeman was as good as Demus had hoped he would be and when the story was over, he clapped with the others. He wondered what sort of man he was though, travelling to arrive there so soon after the Farm's grief. Coincidence? Or a crow who fed off the misery of others? Time had yet to tell that story.

 

[TaeaDawn]

It was interesting to listen to the story and the children's reactions made him smile to himself. Man of the shadow or not, he could still enjoy the innocence of most of these children. He wasn't so certain that all children were innocent, but so far these seemed to be kept in line well.

 

The gleeman was as good as Demus had hoped he would be and when the story was over, he clapped with the others. He wondered what sort of man he was though, travelling to arrive there so soon after the Farm's grief. Coincidence? Or a crow who fed off the misery of others? Time had yet to tell that story.