Sigil: City of Doors

Traveling Troubadour Looking
for Likeminded Company

Well hello there ladies, gentlemen and gender neutral or confused, I, Jonan Coland am in look out for likeminded folk to get up to gather into more cultural endeavour through the Cage. Perhaps tag along and create something marvelous to each other and those around us.

So the other day I was hanging around Bazaar, playing music and singing songs, the most obvious thing I've discerned is that people don't really care, but hey that's fine by me. I'm doing it because I like to do it, not because they demand it or me wanting glory out of it. However it got me to thinking that there oughta be people whom share my own kind of intrigue and perhaps be able to see and hear more than simply solving problems by cutting them to two [size0](Although it's undisputedly quite effective method)[/size] and perhaps instead glorify each others cultural tastes through music, stories, art and dancing.

Heck, if we gather enough intrigued folks, maybe we can even put up a real act too. But if you're intrigued in possibly co-performing do let me know! You can leave a note to Tarion. Because he hates it and likely pins it to the post right next to him where I can check it, also giving notes to Khazeet is too mainstream.

But Cheers! Hope to hear that I'm not alone in this,

Jonan Coland

Cer-Isendris reads the note.

"Ha, Jonan seeks to make himself a veritable band of merry strollers. Well, as long as he need protection from critics, ill be ready to guide him."

He continues his stroll taking in the sights.

Tinkeen reads the Note and thinks to himself:

Perhaps the Syndicate should start selling "life insurances" to the people... life insurances for not getting hurt.... by us

Then he turns away and runs off

Melody weeps, just as she has wept every day for many moons. The tears will not stop.

She looks at the sign through watery eyes.

"Another berk who has not yet learned the pain of life. All lost... all lost"

She pulls out her Lyre and starts to play a dirge, its mournful sounds spreading around, causing passerbys to shuffle away in discomfort.

She drops a note, her fingers pudgy and swollen, like her whole body has become recently. Her once good looks and muscles run to fat as she has not exercised or done any activities since that fateful day in the Abyss.

She bursts into tears once again, and moves on.

A blonde woman, known as Birthe to those who've had any dealings with her, reads the note and grins.

Hmm, why not? I'm not sure I'll be much help, though there's a multi-layered pun I my suggesting I lend moral support already.