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Post by editau on Sept 5, 2022 21:26:51 GMT -5
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Post by editau on Sept 5, 2022 21:30:58 GMT -5
Although this Calishite has retained much of the handsome aspect he obviously enjoyed years ago - there is an element of the ridiculous in his appearance. His greying hair is obviously groomed regularly, but juxtaposed against his receding hairline and bald spot it seems to draw attention to his middle-age rather than disguise it. Though once extremely athletic, he appears to have been left in the sun for too long and is showing signs of male-pattern-melting around the edges.
Despite all this - the ready, roguish smile he offers to passers by is infectious and his piercing eyes have the alert sparkle of someone who is, at the very least, utterly convinced he is still in his prime. Ask Bardeid and he'll tell you, probably at great length : He's still got it.
Strangers being regaled by Bardeid would recognise the tone and rhythm of his speech as those belonging to a seasoned raconteur. His deep, melodious voice is clearly Calishite accented.
Average height for a Calishite, he has to look up to meet the eyes of most men.
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Post by editau on Sept 5, 2022 21:32:13 GMT -5
Bardeid slapped the table and said, to no one in particular: "FINISHED! A masterpiece!"
He hopped up on the table and spoke to his imaginary audience of thousands, overlooking everyone present in reality.
"Rafayam and rafayar. I have just finished my most recent epic."
He scans the three people and their many dozen invisible companions outside Garrot's.
"Would you hear it?"
To the tumultuous applause of absolutely no one, Bardeid began stomping his foot and filling the air with a folksy melody.
"I’ll tell you a tale and this one’s not hoary Nor is it too grim and neither too gory I instead come to deliver this my true story Of how I came into the Hole of Glory
I found myself lost on a day of leisure, Dreaming of women prodigious in measure, I went to the privy to deposit some ...treasure, And I found a portal to the realm of pleasure.
Who made this gateway it could not be known I almost avoided it so I would not be blown ...All out of proportion when I told the tale Of finding a mystery whilst passing some ale.
Through the gateway I went and let out a gasp, Something took hold of me in a fierce grasp. In this dimension the very air was a caress. I knew now I had come to the home of Sharess.
I travelled through vapours both vivid and fresh, and then through a moist, cavernous tunnel of flesh, I met strange creatures both toothy and ..horny I shall never forget my time in the Hole of Glory"
He sings a final flourish, the air sweet with melody for a second. He turns and raises both arms, to the rapturous applause of many thousand imaginary fans before bowing ceremoniously.
"Bardeid Basha thanks you all for not clamoring and mobbing him. Such displays are a burden"
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Post by editau on Sept 5, 2022 21:44:20 GMT -5
As the crowd (both real and imaginary) thinned out. Bardeid, undeterred, threw his lot into his next song. Speaking only to the odd commoner issuing a furtive glance at the outlandish Calishite in passing he said:
"A sad tale now, but also" He holds up a finger, and adopts a serious expression "absolutely true!".
Bardeid began humming a deep, slow, baritone dirge. The timbre and pace positively dripping with melancholy.
"I’ll sing you the tale of my old friends mistake Such sadness and sorrow to make your heart ache I tell you this now so you don’t meet the same end Be wise if a genie gives you wishes to spend.
This man it is said – he was not well endowed His body drew laughter – he could not be proud When he met a genie he wished for a change But his wish was a blunder and he ended up strange"
He pauses for needless dramatic effect.
He sings slowly, with rising intonation.
"I’mmmmmm" "singing……" "about…"
He begins dancing a jig on the table, to and fro. The tune having picked up into a ridiculous, jaunty chanty. Totally at odds with the sombre and serious preceding verses.
"Dingly dangly Dorn, Whos body supplied him great scorn Should have exercised caution at amending his proportions After inflation his trousers were torn!
Dingly dangly Dorn, At first he resembled a prawn He should have ignored his diminuitive ‘sword’ his wish left him truly forlorn
Dingly dangly dorn, He panicked and fled with the horn The terror, it rushed him Tripped, his new member crushed him They found him squashed flat at the dawn!"
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