“D’AUBIGNIY!”
Juliette d’Aubigniy sighed. She had been enjoying a glass of good wine and the attention of a young lady that promised to lead to a very lively evening (especially since the gentleman with the lady was coming around to the idea that he might enjoy giving and receiving the attentions of the two ladies) and then this. Click to continue reading.
The capitol of Andoran was bright, warm, and had a great and open plaza called the Field of Concord. Mostly used for mercantile pursuits, it also had a number of places where performers would play, some prepaid and some professional buskers.
Juliette d’Aubigniy was one of the latter. Her instrument case lay before her as she played her fiddle, sang, and danced (sometimes one, sometimes two, and a few times all three at once). She had gathered a rather decent crowd, her auburn locks swinging about as she performed, and she was pleased with the amount of money she had made.
This song is mentioned in the story about her, and now here is the song itself.
Boots up on the table, Juliette d’Aubigniy regarded her cup with a mix of amusement and irritation. The amusement was due to having seen one member of the group she shared the table with try to take a drink from the cup, only to have the metheglin within push him over the edge from drunk to unconscious; the irritation was because he’d dropped it and spilled it over the table. It had been a bit expensive to get it, in both money and personal services, and she wasn’t looking forwards to the cost that Tauglithgin would ask for more.
