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A pale figure strums a few chords on an old cracked lute, sitting atop a rock on the road to Bane, or perhaps Varshikar, all depending of course on which way one was head really.

...and thats what it's all about!

Letting out a deep sigh his finger goes to scratch the lid over one of his empty eye sockets

No...that will never catch on...

Setting the lute in a jumbled bag with various other assorted knick knacks he runs a hand through his white hair, smiling breifly and chuckling to himself

A good song seems harder to find then monks for a new temple...

Not watching where her feet take her while practicing on her harp, barely keeping on the road to Bane as her playing masks most noise in the area, Achae stops briefly with a small frown on her face grimacing at the discord heard from her harp before meticulously adjusting the tension on one of the strings. Playing a couple of notes smiling to herself in satisfaction she holds the harp close to her and begins to play again with eyes only partially on her surroundings eventually tripping almost falling over a rock. Quickly reaching the hand not holding the harp to steady herself she grabs fabric instead of rock and gasps for the first time seeing the man. The bright red blush forming on her face as she stutters an apology makes her freckles stand out even more.

I am so sorry Sir! Are you alright?

Jostled from his quiet contemplation by the sudden tug on his weathered travel wear, at first all he can do is repeat the word

Sir?

A warm chuckle escaping the monk as he leans forward with a hand held flat above his brow. Piviting his head from on side to the other in an exaggerated display of a search.

You must be mistaken lass, I see no knights or nobles...and I definately don't see my father anywhere out there!

He winks a hallowed out eye as a gentle smile curls around his lips before going to pat the woman on her shoulder

Let's try to be a little less formal shall we? After all, you've nearly pulled my clothes off and we just met!

Starting to smile as her fast heart beat finally slows, a small giggle escapes at his exaggerated look and his words while she quickly removes her hand from his coat and gets her feet firmly on the ground again. Achae's blush, partially disappearing returns with a vengence with his last words as she holds one hand out stuttering again....

I wasn't.... I mean I didn't... Si....

She stops her words abruptly before the word "Sir" can be said again and brushing a perceived strand of hair from her face while taking a deep breath as if to calm herself, Achae looks more closely at him noting he would be unable to see her. With a calmer voice and an obvious attempt to change the subject....

Uh, my name is Achae by the way, what would you like me to call you?

As her eyes look down with the final word, Achae sees just the edge of a lute peeking out from his bag and running her words together now obviously excited as she smiles and points...

Do you play a lute?

As he adjusts his garmets to place them in their proper position he speaks with a soft and friendly tone

I've been know to pluck it's strings every once in a little while. But as of late...

He chuckles as he melodramatically tosses his hair with a broad gesture

...I feel as if my muse has left me.

Scratching his chin for a momment before holding his hand a little above his waist he starts to speak

You haven't seen it have you? About this tall, shimmers every once in a blue moon with inspiration. Likes jokes and lazy summer nights...is an abstract concept....

With a lilting voice denoting the smile on her face Achae repeats his last word....

Inspiration..... like "Heal the past, Live the present and Dream the future"?



I have seen it occasionally, though sometimes it seems to be very elusive!

Achae finds an edge to the rock and sits on it also then begins to play just simple notes on her harp, not any exact melody but letting her fingers lightly strum random notes. A more serious expression falls over her features and speaking in a low voice almost a whisper barely heard above the soft sound of the harp.

Tell me Lute Man, how would someone go about finding that muse if lost?

A deep laugh builds up inside of him as he repeats...

Lute man...I rather like that! Well my dear this is a an old secret that you must keep under your hat...

He turns his head once to the left, then once to the right before he motions her closer to relate this amazing secret. Though it is doubtful he would have noticed anyone approaching as he simulated looking around.

In my experience there are three things that can lure ones muse to them...New love, old love and love lost....

With a broad smirk he points a finger at her in a unbearably slow motion

Perhaps you could...