- Influence
- 2,363.00
Asta had not fully believed Caden when he described certain elements of Bully Harbor. Having come from a spacious, clean, and friendly town in northern Varangia, she had little context for the sights, smells, and colorful citizenry in the port city she now called home. Parts of her could see why her adoptive father did not want her to be traversing the Harbor on her own. However, those parts were far in the back of her mind as she stood wide-eyed in the entrance of the Bilge in the Bucket, lute strapped to her back. Afternoon sunlight streamed behind her, and she surveyed the boisterous interior of the tavern with excitement. This place was everything she had imagined when Caden had described his early life in the Imperium.
Dodging around a drunken stoat stumbling out of the tavern, she made her way to the bar, mentally preparing the Vulpinsulan phrases she had learned that she would need to carry out her plan.
"Excuse," she said to the harried-looking rat behind the bar, attempting to enunciate as clearly as she could. Asta shifted her lute in front of her and mimed playing. "I play music on stage?"
The rat stared at her. "You wot?"
Asta smiled as pleasantly as she could manage, unsure of the rat's meaning. She repeated her previous question.
The rat blinked. "Gimme a minute." He went back to pouring and mixing drinks, then moved to take orders from others at the bar. Asta waited, hoping whatever guttural syllables the bartender had grunted had meant she would be able to play that afternoon. A fox at the bar leered lopsidedly at her. She looked away from him, flattening the front of her blue and white dress and tapping nervously at the body of the lute.
Dodging around a drunken stoat stumbling out of the tavern, she made her way to the bar, mentally preparing the Vulpinsulan phrases she had learned that she would need to carry out her plan.
"Excuse," she said to the harried-looking rat behind the bar, attempting to enunciate as clearly as she could. Asta shifted her lute in front of her and mimed playing. "I play music on stage?"
The rat stared at her. "You wot?"
Asta smiled as pleasantly as she could manage, unsure of the rat's meaning. She repeated her previous question.
The rat blinked. "Gimme a minute." He went back to pouring and mixing drinks, then moved to take orders from others at the bar. Asta waited, hoping whatever guttural syllables the bartender had grunted had meant she would be able to play that afternoon. A fox at the bar leered lopsidedly at her. She looked away from him, flattening the front of her blue and white dress and tapping nervously at the body of the lute.
