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#Post#: 67--------------------------------------------------
Testing The Acoustics
DIR By: High Captain Song
Date: June 23, 2023, 9:31 am
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Time: Day One of Sardar Fair.
Place: One of the tiers of the great Amphitheatre, where
entertainments such as Kaissa matches, poetry readings,
pageants, song dramas, and concerts may be enjoyed.
I was one of the first to arrive at the fairgrounds out of
habit. Rare was it for me to miss a Sardar Fair when I was
simply, Frode, a wandering wastrel of No Fixed Abode. I even
managed to make the journey every few months when I became famed
as the Skald of Kassau, for it did my HIgh Jarl good to have a
man whose journeys let him keep apace of the latest news. Now, I
have a new home and more responsibilities than I care to
consider. Luckily, I also have a Mate, who his overseeing the
unloading of cargo from the wagons that transported all we had
to trade and will transport all we hope to take back. She and my
slaves Eris and Rhaenyra are handling the accounting of things.
The trio of slaves I liberated on my first raid, Lusty, Busty
and Trusty, are about somewhere, too.
And as for me? Where else would the famous Captain Song be but
at the Singer's pavillion? I'll be judging some of the other
performers later during the singing contest. While not quite
prestigious as the contest at the Thing, there is still much
honor and glory for those Singers and Skalds judged to perform
well. (There's also a cap full of gold, for those who care about
more material rewards than bragging rights.)
That is later in the week, however, for now I am content to sit
on the stage, cittern in my hand, helping the Builders in charge
of setting up the pavilion to test their acoustics. There's some
trick to the stage walls they set up that guides the sound out
towards the audience like a cave echo. I don't pretend to
understand the science but I know what works and am more than
happy to help play a spirited tune or two to help them test the
trick.
The tune I play is one I modified from some lyrics given to me
by an Earth girl once upon a time. They didn't translate
directly into Gorean, she claimed, but the tune was lively and
something a girl could dance to quite well. Apparently it was
made for a lady bard who was famed for her dancing on Earth,
which was odd as everything I had heard about that place from
the scribes was that there was less joy and dancing on Earth in
general than in Tharna. Who could say the truth? In any case,
the girl's tune pleased me and I was happy to try and adapt it
into something new.
All you people look at her, like she's a little girl.
Well, did you ever think that you'd wind up in such a world?
Always saying, "Little girl, don’t step into the taverns."
Well, she's just trying find out why, 'cause dancing’s what she
loves.... yes....yes...
Yes, she may come off quiet, She may come off shy
But she feels like talking, feel likes dancing when she sees me.
What’s practical? What's logical? What the hell, who cares?
All I know is I’m so happy when you’re dancing there...
I stop the song, thinking it best saved for when there is a
dancing girl around to move to it. After a pause to tune my
cittern, I start anew with something a bit more lively and
bawdy. The perfect song for fair time, at least so long as there
are no wilting Ladies of the south present. The Free Women of
the North enjoy a suggestive tune more than most. Indeed,
there's a verse in one of mine about how the song would be
dirtier if it were the lady bards singing it.
A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing.
His hammer laid by but his forge still aglow.
When to him a buxom Free Woman came smiling,
And asked if to work in her forge he would go.
"I will," said the smith, and they went off together,
Along to the Free Woman’s forge they did go.
They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather.
They kindled a fire and she soon made him blow.
Her Companion she said, no good work could afford her.
His strength and his tool were worn out long ago.
The smith said "Well mine is in very good order,
And I am now ready my skill for to show."
Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire,
And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so.
Said she, "What I get I get out of the fire,
So prithee, strike home and redouble the blow."
Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating,
Grow soft in her forge in an ehn or so,
But as often was hardened, still beating and beating,
But the more it was softened, it hardened more slow.
When the smith rose to go, quoth the dame full of sorrow:
"Oh, what would I give could my Companion do so.
Good lad with your hammer come hither tomorrow,
But pray could you use it once more fore you go?"
The builders in the audience pit nod to me with approval, with
one offering polite applause and slapping his shoulder. I return
the nod and grin as I jump off the stage and land nimbly some
five feet below,, my hands taking care to cushion my cittern.
With that dramatic display done and my work complete, I wander
back toward the vending area. Somewhere there's a corner
unattended. Somewhere there's people in need of cheer.
Somewhere, there's an adventure waiting to be found. It's high
time I found it.
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