Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20131220001148/@comment-11457306-20131221003122

"He actually smells a lot better," said Anwen. "The blood is gone from his hair."

"I must give the people some tunes before they riot.  Join me if you wish, Paris," she nodded at the young woman's flute.

Anwen stood and unslung her lute, walking to stand by the hearth, which was the central point of any inn in any country she'd ever been in. "A drink for the bard!" she yelled. Someone thrust a mug of something her way and she downed it. Then she launched with verve into her first tune.