A Tale Too Far (Closed, Adventure)

Ah, to be on the road again. Crispin had been excited at the prospect of a little venture elsewhere, since traveling was the life he'd long grown accustomed to. While there was something to be said for having something of a home base in Waterdeep, he still couldn't entirely put aside that itch to keep moving, to see the sights and people that came from new locations. Almost like old times. Putting his entertainment skills to use gave him all the more nostalgia for the old days and the people who'd been part of it all. There was plenty else with which to keep occupied when they had down time, and as usual he was always interested by those he traveled with, using games to get a sense of what they were like, or chatting over the fire at the end of the day.

There was also plenty to see in their surroundings whenever they stopped, and of course Crispin was more than willing to take a look around as asked, to satisfy his own curiosity as much as anything else. That was something else he truly missed about being on the move all the time... staying too rooted could get monotonous fast, sometimes, although he had purposefully chosen Waterdeep because it had enough variety to interest him. Well, that and his feelings toward it from the past. Anyway. The task at hand. At the moment, he was warily watching for signs of trouble, or perhaps signs of something else... After all, the fey were always out there somewhere, and he was no stranger to their kind. One never knew what might be around in a strange area such as this.

He sniffed the air. Was someone else camping nearby? That was his first thought, since it seemed to be that way, from a distant glimpse of the fire. It did smell rather delicious. Well... no harm would come of getting closer and getting a better look, right? Just in case, he was careful to be quiet, to use his skills in stealth to get closer without hopefully drawing the attention of anyone hostile. It would be good to know either way who might be out there, after all, whether friend, foe, or even some neutral party likely to just leave them be.

Investigation: 3gI_9uN21d20+1

Stealth: 1d20+51d20+1·1d20+5

Unfortunately for Crispin, it was difficult to concentrate on surrounding details when the scent of such enticing food reached him. After long hours on the road, how could the scent of a nice warm meal do anything but take over the mind? Despite his efforts to go stealth, his stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble when he was close enough. That prompted a kindly chuckle, as someone spoke up. "Ah, a fellow traveler? Come into the light and join me!"

A youthful, clean-shaven half-elven man sat at the side of a tidy campfire, roasting a juicy cut of meat on a spit and cooking hearty roots and vegetables by the side of the fire. Black curls flowed from underneath a simple traveler's cap, and he idly plucked upon the strings of a beautiful, ornate lute. He looked over and smiled in Crispin's direction. The light danced on his copper-brown skin and sparkled in his hazel eyes. He beckoned eagerly, and said “Folk call me Zemmy; I’m wandering bard looking for a new tale to sing songs about. Come and sit, I’ll trade you plenty of food for a few good stories.”

"A fellow performer as well? Wonderful! I'm in luck tonight." Zemmy poured some drinks from a bottle of amnish wine and handed a glass over, inspecting the meat on the spit before nodding to himself, satisfied. It's done, so he began piling on a plate for Crispin, generous with the portions. "I just left home a few months ago and plan to see the world, though truthfully I've barely gotten started. Here, I hope that's a good start though feel free to take as much as you like. Traveling does work up quite an appetite, doesn't it?"

He made a plate for himself as well but was apparently more interested in strumming his lute. His smooth voice soon follows, with a melancholy ballad.

"Black is the color
of my true love's hair
her lips are like
some roses fair
she's the sweetest smile
and the gentlest hands
and I love the ground
where on she stands

I love my love
and well she knows
I love the ground
where on she goes
if she on earth no more I'll see
My life will quickly fade away

I'll go to the Clyde
and I'll mourne and weep
for satisfied
I'll never be
I'll write her a letter
just a few short lines
and suffer death a 1000 times

Winter's past and the leaves are green
the time has passed that we have seen
but still I hope the time will come
when she and I will be as one."

(Feel free to make an Insight check.)

Crispin might know that the young bard sings a folk tune that's a bit too melancholy for someone of his young age to be singing. Indeed, something about his performance makes it clear that Zemmy doesn't truly understand what he's singing; he's just picked it up from somewhere else. But the half-elven bard doesn't give his company much time to ponder, once he's finished. Setting the lute aside, he picks up his plate and raises his cup. There's an eager gleam in his eyes, reflected in his tone. 

"Now, for a tale! You look well-traveled, and I'm sure you have a good collection of them by now. Why don't you tell me about your latest adventure? Whatever you've done, I'm sure it will be a worthy follow-up to the music."

vorpal Make a Charisma check for Crispin! It can include his Performance proficiency, or any other skill that would make sense for the storytelling.