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[asoutcastshear]

[Erik has come to a basic understanding of why he is here in the Keep. He spent the first night acquainting himself with his journal contraption before venturing out to find a piano or an organ of some sort. Upon locating one, he seated himself and began to play.

What is that somber song you hear? It is Erik mourning.]

Comments

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

[Isabella's ears pricked at the sound of someone playing a mournful melody upon a piano and went to investigate. It was not that hard of a place to find, since she mapped out all the areas that harbored instruments.

She was also not about to intrude upon the person that was seated playing either, and stands in the doorway, watching politely.]

[commentlog]

[asoutcastshear]

[The playing stops abruptly. Erik has enough practice spying on someone to know when someone else is doing the spying. He closes the lid of the piano slowly and scans the area. When he spies Isabella in the doorway, he gets up and retreats and finds some place to hide.]

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

[She blinks. That was far from the reaction she was used to with people of musical talent! Even less so from those of her own time and place- she expected perhaps, anger, at the intrusion. Not retreat.

Curiosity drew her out from the doorway, but she would not enter. ]

Sir? I did not mean to startle you. I had only wished to listen without interrupting.

[commentlog]

[asoutcastshear]

[When Erik speaks, it sounds as if it is coming from everywhere at once.]

It would have be most kind of you to make your presence known before intruding. I did not request an audience.

[Well outside of whomever was listening with the journal.]

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

[Isabella looks around for where the voice is bouncing. How did he get the acoustics in the room right to do that? But she also drops into a polite curtsy]

My apologies, sir. You are correct. I beg your pardon and will take my leave of you.

[She turns with a rustle of feathers and walks back the way she came. ]

[commentlog]

[asoutcastshear]

[Hey, way to be a jerk, Erik. I mean I know you miss Christine and all, but did you really have to be so callous to that interesting looking creature? Certainly not. Now apologize, lest you get the stick.]

One moment. Why are you here?

[That's not an apology, Erik]

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

[She turns at the sound of the man's voice. Perhaps he was doubting her intentions?]

I heard you playing, from the hallway, sir. I was curious. I did not know there was another bard in the Keep and that is why I came.

[She knew of several people that could sing, but hadn't known of any that could play an instrument besides herself- and now this strange fellow.]

[Don't worry, she forgives him. He was polite, by her standards.]

[commentlog]

[asoutcastshear]

I am not a bard.

[He sounds a little offended.]

I am a composer.

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

[Her lips twitch with a wry grin. There was the ego she was familiar with! ]

My apologies again, sir. I had meant no offense.

[It was genuine, she knew the value of titles.]

Was that sorrowful melody you were playing, your composition?

[commentlog]

[asoutcastshear]

Some of it is, yes.

[commentlog]

[halfbrokenwings]

It is nothing that I have heard before, and was quite lovely.

[She bows at the empty room, and starts to back away again. She has no wish to keep the man from his music when it is painfully obvious an audience is uncomfortable.]

I believe I should take my leave, sir, so you may continue.