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The City of Gild; Campania
Gild was, admittedly, not the first place Ispir would choose to travel. Or the second, or the third, or fourth, and so on. He had thankfully heard of the populace's disdain for magic well ahead of actually reaching the city and so he had to get a bit creative with the music he played here. Thankfully he was a skilled enough musician to play the wind notes of one of his newest songs on a flute attached to a device that kept it to his lips while he played. His hands, meanwhile, strummed simple, beautiful notes on his lyre as he sat upon a slightly weathered stone dais.
All about him people gathered to hear him play and sing and he was overjoyed to see them forget the troubles of their lives for the moment. Faces split into happy smiles, some even tearing up, but on he played as this was quite a lengthy performance. Donations fell into a small wooden cup he used to gather coin and he felt truly at peace as the wind billowed gently by him. His cape catching in the gentle, warm breeze as he smiled to the crowd.
The Song he played drifted about like a gentle caress, a warm hug, to all present. Whether human, dwarf or ogre he was right where he felt he should be bringing them happiness. Only once the song was over, the last note fading away into memory, would he wait for the donations to end, shake hands, bow respectfully to all who approached him, before calmly beginning to collect his donations and hum the tune gently to himself as he stowed the wooden cup away. Dusting himself off Ispir would then sigh contentedly and begin walking, to where even he did not know.
Ruka Kargatal