SleemSheedy

By the time Lymond left the ship, he was famished. The sea, like most everything, made him sick and he had lost the meal given to him by the cook that morning. His fingers deftly secured the lyre onto his back as he waved the sailors goodbye. They shot him a look of contempt. What Lymond had lost in his food he had more than made up for in coin. He had diced with the crew all afternoon, and had made a neat little profit to spend in the city. It was enough to buy a bottle of wine and a room at a tavern for the night. Perhaps he’d even be able to gain the attention of a courtesan. 

The bazaar was alight in festival when he arrived, and just as the smell of garliced sausage and crackling pork reached his nose, a man appeared from the crowd.

“Welcome!” He began. “What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?”


Lymond’s lips turned up into a smile as he wrapped his hands around the strap that crossed his chest. The last sounded most inviting, and judging by how the the man was dressed? A hand came over the gentleman’s shoulder as Lymond brought them close together.

”Milord, I’m but a simple entertainer here to engross your city in a cavalcade of lights and sound!” His hand shot out before the two, gesturing to the city life buzzing all around them. “But frankly? Some lunch and a bellyful of wine would do me nicely. Have you a tavern in mind?”