Lalandria entered the inn and caught the innkeeper's eye. He nodded to her and motioned her toward the stage. With a sigh she moved toward the small elevated area pulling the shirt lower so that her shoulders were visible. The brown straps of the bodice still held but male watchers usually preferred a little more skin. She was of course completely respectable in her clothing but still she felt like a stone had dropped into her stomach. It was not that she didn't like performing, no she quite enjoyed it actually, but it wore on someone when they had to do it constantly and with out their choice in the matter. For Lalandria it was either she preformed or she slept a cold night in the streets with no food in her belly.

She grabbed the stool that rested near the bottom of the small stage and placed it upon of the wooden floor. She seated herself upon it and crossed her ankles, actually making her look dainty. It wasn't what most who met Lalandria expected when they thought of her sitting or performing but it added a small air of class to the scene. She drew out the lyre from the small rucksack she kept it in and began to tune it. It didn't take long for Lalandria to get it perfect, her use of it every night kept it in good enough shape. She slowly began to play smooth, river like chords upon the instrument as she thought on what to do.

She really didn't feel like playing a fun dancing tune. She looked around and noticed the small dancing floor that was placed in front of the stage; it could be expanded with the moving of several tables and chairs. When the innkeeper saw where her gaze rested he nodded in encouragement. So he wants to get his costumers thirsty with dancing and the sell of his wine increase, Lalandria thought to herself even as she began the slow beginning of a waltz. Her mind wandered to many far off places and dreams.

The beginning chord ran several times with a small complication added to each one, making it sound as if bells rang from a crisp winter evening in a grand hall. Slowly she began to weave her voice among the notes. Her voice varied often but always sounding haunting and a feeling of enchantment in the background. Lords in their finest and ladies in beautiful dresses danced across her mind's eye as she played. The women's dress flourished around them, their every movement graceful and perfectly timed.

It was all a fantasy and one that hit the customers of the inn like a blow, Lalandria's waking dream becoming theirs. She had never seen fine lords and ladies up close and certainly not dancing. The song continued with the picture but the song became darker and sadder as she went, her voice changing from just haunting to one that some might compare to a lost soul still searching for her lover. The song followed the feeling and sound that her voice projected, the lyrics being about a young woman who gave herself to her lover and found him gone the next day. She searched for years and eventually lost hope. In the very end of the song she throws herself of a tower into the arms of the cold winter ground. The song ends with the woman's shade’s lament for the lover that left her.

A beautiful yet haunting song that rang through minds of the inn's occupants as many blinked in surprise at finding themselves having taken a partner and gone to the dance floor. The instrument ended before Lalandria's voice that ran across the serving hall like the echoed cry of a soul in search of something lost long years ago. Lalandria opened her eyes to watch retreating back return to their seats. Those that got up sat there in their seats shaking their heads in disbelief and calling for drinks to make the memory disappear from within their minds' eye and free them from the feeling of emptiness that the song caused. One serving girl was huddled by the fire place, silently sobbing into her arm.

Enough times of her songs affecting people the way they did had prepared Lalandria for such a scene, but anyone who walked in during the performance would have probably stared in shock and wondered if a spell had fallen upon the place. The basic truth was if you reached deep enough and hit the right chord any one's emotions could be touched and played with. Lalandria sat upon the stool, a doll on a throne, her hair flashing with streaks of gold red fire and her eyes deep abyss with only orbs of green and gold light to light the way. To some it might seem that it was the lady herself that had sung them the song, but as the last trace of her voice faded, the spell broke and her worn clothing would become visible once again, but her hair and eyes never changed, always a mystery outside of one’s reach.

Lalandria sat on the chair feeling drained. When she sang her emotion into her songs she always left feeling empty but peaceful. Her life seemed for just a moment to be balanced and a flicker of hope up ahead. In those moments Lalandria felt that perhaps her dreams would come true and one day she would not have to work her fingers to the bone and sing till she was hoarse to get a meal a day and a roof over her head. The feeling always came crashing down but the one moment of hope would be enough for her to continue fighting for life when all else failed and died before her very own eyes.

Tracyn had stumbled into the Inn prior to her performance, one that left him speechless. He had taken a seat in a quite corner, meddling over a meal before she began. When she did he had moved to a closer seat, food eaten. He had listened in disbelief that any mortal could make the sounds and dreams she infused in every listener. But she had and it amazed him, he was utterly awe struck. He blinked a few times, shaking his head to rid himself of the dream-like state of being. He made his way up to her, hands stuffed in his pockets. He smiled up to her, though still dazed by her song.

Lalandira quickly caught her breath and decided she at least deserved a drink for her trouble. She looked at the innkeeper and raised her eyebrow. He nodded satisfied. He better be, Lalandria thought as she saw almost every person asking for a drink. A small smile flickered across her face as she felt a moment of pride at the thought of a job well done. Who knew perhaps one day she might sing before the king himself. She almost laughed at the thought but caught herself, realizing just how odd it would seem to those around her if she suddenly burst out in laughter. Her parched throat yelled at her to go get herself a drink.

She picked up her lyre and placed it within the sack and carried it off the stage with herself. She almost ran into someone. She dodged at the last moment and caught who it was out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and whirled around to face him. A bright smile painted her features and put a friendly twinkle in her eye.

"Tracyn!" she said, her happiness at seeing him was obvious by the expression on her face.

She had forgotten about their meeting when she had entered the inn. She mentally kicked herself for doing such a thing. She walked over to him and clapped his back, worried at the expression on his face.

"What is wrong? Did you have a bit too much wine?" she asked worried at his blank like expression.

Her song couldn't have caused it could it? She hated it when her songs affected the people she liked. Her smile changed to and expression of worry. Her brows were drawn together and there was a small wrinkle between her eyes. The edges of her eyes were turned downward with the very tips of her mouth. For once she wasn't hiding her expression. What was wrong? Had one of the horses died and left him in shock? What the heck had left him with such a blank expression on his face? For once Lalandria felt a needle of fear shoot through her as she considered if it was the song, and if it was, could it have long-lasting effects?

"Nah, its ok. Just a little dazed," He smiled, his usual self returning. "So how long are you going to be in town?" He looked over at the paitrons momentairly who were now demanding drinks. "Heh...I guess I came a little late into the song, didn't see it all." He shrugged, "Was having trouble getting Dainty to eat her hay, must have not liked the smell or something." He shrugged again, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Lalandria felt her shoulders relax at his reply. She did not like when people got drunk, it came with too many memories for her liking. She felt a slight shiver dash down her spine at the thought and almost turned away, but made herself continue to look at Tracyn with a smile on her face. Sometimes she hated that she could play her expressions as well as she did, feeling as if she was betraying something, but other times it was a blessing that kept her steady when all else fell away and left her open to attack. From within her thought she heard him ask how long she was going to stay.

"Probably, a night or two, that is what I usually do in this town," she replied being pulled out of her reverie.

Lalandria followed his gaze around the room and saw many of the patrons asking for drinks, and for a moment she caught the innkeeper's eye. He was delighted at the buisness this was bringing him, but Lalandria just felt sick. She had probably brought several to have nasty headaches in the morning, but mostly it was that almost all of those ordering drinks were trying to bury what they had heard and seen through their songs in drinks. It didn't word, Dria knew well enough, having seen her father try and do that very same thing every single night of her existence. Fools, we are all lost in a never ending swirl to make our lives better while burying the past behind us, she thought bitterly. She returned her gaze to Tracyn once he began to speak.

Lalandria shook her head slightly as he said he came late. Good for you, she wanted to tell him but held back as he continued to speak. Her smile changed from her usual, totally fake smile, which managed to look more real than her real smile, to her real smile as he spoke of a horse named Dainty. At the mention of her not wanting to eat her food, Lalandria frowned a little.

"She couldn't be dropping her feed because she is sick, could she?" Dria asked sounding worried.

After asking the question she decided they might as well take a seat rather than standing in the middle of the common room.

"Common, before you answer lets go find a seat. I'm tired from walking all day," she said moving towards a table whose occupants had recently left it vacant to go up to their beds.

She looked at the innkeeper and raised her eyebrow at him once she was seated. He nodded and motioned for a serving girl to bring them both drinks. There are positives to keeping the innkeeper happy, Lalandria thought to herself as she saw the girl carry over two mugs of ale.

Tracyn nodded in thanks, but didn't touch his drink. He liked to keep somber at all times. "I'm not sure whats going on with her, though she could just have decided to become a picky eater...at best," He shrugged watching as the number of people present slowly reduced in numbers. He scratched his head, trying to figure out what just was wrong but decided it could wait. "So...a couple days huh? Well I was thinking about heading out in a little while for some of the bigger cities, I've always been curious." He leaned back in his chair, and looked at her.

Lalandria looked around, and noticed the people leaving their tables. A small frown played across her lips. The innkeeper wasn't worried, though. She looked around at how the serving girls were looking and saw just how tired they were. Mostly merchants stopped here and if it was late enough for the girls to be that tired, then they probably went up to get some sleep before heading out the next day.

She took a sip of her drink and almost choked when she heard his reply. He wanted to go to the big cities? Well, why totally did not make sense to Lalandria. She took another sip from the glass and eyed him up and down from over the rim of the glass. He just had no idea what he was considering, unless he had enough money to stay in the nicer parts of the city. At the mention of the city her posture had changed. Where before, she had been friendly and open her face had turned reserved and careful, as if sensing a trap ahead.

It wasn't that she didn't like cities. No, they were as close to a home as she had. She had grown up and lived there for most of her short life, and knew them better than she knew her own mind. They had their very nasty parts, and Lalandria knew those better than any other part. Her eyes turned inward at the fear of wandering those streets with nothing more than rags on her body and the sounds of screams following her from another alley. Those streets could be bad, very bad, especially if you weren't familiar with them.

"Why do you want to go to a city? There has to be more than just curiosity behind it," she replied, not enjoying the idea of Tracyn wandering those streets all by himself.

It was not a nice picture. With a flash she saw images of him being killed, gutted, beaten, and all other types of nasty things happening to him. It was not a pleasant viewing.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm looking for someone," He took on a very serious look, as the matter of his trip was brought to the front. He looked over to where the last people were finally leaving. "A while ago a group of thugs came to town, they took my sister. Who knows what they've done to her," He narrowed his eyes, "So you see why I'm going?"

Lalandria raised her eyebrow at this. His sister was taken by thugs? Well, that could happen, but what thugs would take a girl from a town like this? Several faces and name names to mind so she let that question drop. Fine then, how did he know they were from the city? Off that thought most of the thugs Lalandria knew had actually first come from the country. Her train of thought continued for several moments this way with more questions, all very logical in her point of view. How did he know she was still alive came to mind first. Through all this her eyebrow stayed perfectly arched and her facial expression was mildly questioning. She took another sip of ale and nodded slowly when she put it down. She had several questions and she was going to have them answered. She swept one last gaze over the common room.

"How exactly do you know theses thugs are from the city? And which city are they from then?" Lalandria said resting her gaze upon him once more.

There were many cities, the largest being Lomedor, but it could be any. She was most familiar with Lomedor, it being where she spent her childhood. She looked at him seriously, al flicker from her eyes gone, solely replaced by a whirlpool of darkness.

"Also, if you do know that they are, how do you know she is still alive? I'm sorry to say but if the people that took her really were thugs and expected no kind of ransom then she has probably been used and tossed dead on the side of the road. It is expensive to feed someone sorry," Dria added holding her hand up slightly in the air to stop his reply.

The words were cruel but necessary. If he didn't know the answer to both, it would be a pointless race across the country. It would also be pricy and Lalandria had never had much money in her pockets. Anyway, her point of view had always been saying it how it is.

He glared with a hiss in his breath, "I know they are from the city, particularly Lomedor, they were in this very inn before they ran off. I hope she is alive, but if she is dead then she is. I want to know, I want to see her myself."

Lalandria hated being around emotional people. She just didn't know how to react to them. Now, she had the feeling, no more than a feeling, a very strong idea that she might just kick off a very strong emotional reaction from Tracyn if she said the wrong thing. She sighed and looked back down into her cup of ale and searched into its golden depths for answer on how to tell him just how bloody pointless his search was. Yeah, she understood the want to hold on to hope and know if it was wrong, but not personally. She had seen others go through that but she had stopped hoping when everything else went wrong. She took another sip and considered very strongly just leaving him there to fume and go sing another song. If she sang the right song perhaps he would totally forget, she thought to herself. That probably wouldn't happen though. Her music didn't work that way. In the end she decided to say it anyway and if he got angry she would just leave him there with no solution to his problems.

"Look, don't get angry at me because I am telling you the way it is, okay? Even if you accept that she could be dead the likelihood of finding her body is almost none. People don't talk about finding such things on the side of a road, especially if it is one not much traveled. The travelers that travel the most used road are usually used to seeing such things; it’s like seeing a tree by the road. It doesn't affect you so you don't worry. I am not going to stop you, but don't randomly go gallivanting off to save, a probably dead, sister. Life doesn't work that way. Heroes usually don't live as long as villains, it is just how it is," she finally said.

Her voice was emotionless flat but totally believing the words that came out of her mouth as truth. She truly did, she had seen it enough times to know that it was better to be no one than either the villain of the hero. Better yet not to even know one or the other. The farther away you were from fights the more likely you were to survive, was Lalandria's general outlook on life, and she followed it as best she could.

"I know, it was a far fetched idea to start with but I just have to. What if she is still alive? That one reason is reason enough to atleast look." He took a loaf of bread and took a bite. "I know the chances of even finding a body is slim to none, but there is still a chance." He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. He could have expected the flat response she gave, he had peiced that much together from her other similar comments.

Lalandria felt her frustration build. Why couldn't he see it was pointless? No he just couldn't, could he. That thought ofcourse made her look at him and see the warm, soft, deliciouse bread go into his mouth. Too stop herself from drooling she looked back into the depths of her glass. The hole in her stomache seemed to be screaming at her with every nerve in her body. She wanted to eat badly. She hadn't eaten since the night before.

Look at yourslef, complaining after only a day without food, your pathetic, she chided herslef remembering a time when she was nothing more that a walking skeleton with just enough muscle to keep her moving. She shuddered at the memory of looking into a puddle of something, she did not want to know what, and seeing black depths of her eyes sunken behind jutting cheek bones. Those eyes swam in the drink before her, dark, remorseless, and filled with a sadness beyond imagining. She took a deep drink from her ale this time and tried to concentrate on what she had been thinking of earlier. But her own eyes from her childhood waited to haunt her with every thought she tried to follow.

She looked at her reflection in the ale and saw the same eyes, but her cheek bones didn't stick out to the same degree, and instead of giving her such a severe, skull-like look, it had been replaced with a tragic beauty. She wanted to scream and run away from her past and present, but she couldn't, it was all that she really had. She took a deep breath and tore her gaze from the reflection of her own whirlpool of darkness eyes. She looked straight at Tracyn's eyes and saw more than she wanted, than she should have. There was too much hope there, so much more than that in the eyes of a child so long ago it seemed, but truthfully but six years past. She almost gazed back into the drink but stopped herslef with another shudder and made herslef look at her hand that rested lightly on the table.

Too much hope, Tracyn did have, too much for her to want to crush it like hers had been all too young. The illusion of a large hand the size of her head rushing towards her almost made her flinch out of her chair but instead she contained it to a twitch of her eye and finger. Too much hope to counter her, too many memories. She couldn't make herself crush it. That would have been to much like her father for her taste.

"Why are you telling me this? I'm guessing you want me to help you out some how. What exactly do you want from me?" she asked beaten down by her own emotion, but her last word had sounded hurt, like how could he ever ask something of her.

The truth was she was hurt. Why was he asking her such a thing, telling her all this stuff? She was a stranger, and with out meaning to he had brought to mind too many painful memories. Some irrational part of her mind blamed him for bringing them to the light of her mind's eye. She knew it was irrational but it stayed where it was, emotion was often stronger than any other borderline.

"You asked?" He took off a last bit of bread before giving it to her. He ate the last chunk he had taken. He rubbed his hands together. "I'm not asking you to do anything anyways," he sighed resting his head on his hands. Tracyn looked her straight in the eye, wanting to know what was up with her instead.

She wanted to scream, once her memory wall had a crack it grew bigger and by the moment it was becoming a flood, overwhelming her mind with painful images with no respite. She had just enough control to stay in her chair quiet, and with a peacefull expression on her face that showed not even a glimmer of the struggle she was having.

To many beatings, crying in the corner, sleeping on refuse piles in unnameable alleys and nooks found all over the city. Each one assauslted her equally with just the same reaction. She almost let go wanting to just drift off somewhere where none of this happened. Somewhere her mother didn't leave as soon as Lalandria was old enough to survive without her, leaving her father in a depression strong enough to push him into a constant drunkeness and anger. Leaving Lalandria to his blows and rants with nothing to protect herself.

Life had never been trully good. Even when her mother had been there, her parents had faught constantly, oddly enough Dria's mother would have left earlier, leaving Lalandria to die, but her father had saved her, by being able to convince her mother to stay that long. The irony had never stopped surprising Lalandria when ever it came to mind.

Insanity seemed like a land of wonderful things in Lalandria's state of mind at the moment, but something kept nagging her, keeping her away from the thoughtless bliss that it meant. With insanity came no jobs, which meant no food and therefor she would die. That would be bad, very bad. Slowly she collected her mind around the basic instinct to survive. Slowly the images slowed and eventually stopped as her wall grew back into place one brick at a time. She took a deep breath and blinked at Tracyn once. It had all happened in the time it took him to take a breath to talk. It just looked like she had a thought and decided against voicing it.

Once she heard him speak she snapped her attention back to him. As she thought back it had been her that had asked, hadn't it? With the words that he wasn't going to ask anything of her, every muscle in Lalandria's body seemed to relax and her smile grew wider. Then she noticed the piece of bread in her hand. She dropped it, her smile fading. She hadn't even noticed that he had handed it to her. She picked it up from the table once more and put it back on his plate. Every sense in her body was telling her that she shouldn't but she had never stooped beginning and wouldn't now.

"Eat your bread, you've had a lond day working at the stable," she said putting a small smile back on her face.

Over Tracyn's shoulder she saw the innkeeper glaring at her, obviously thinking she had enough of a break.

"I have to go sing a song real quick, I'll be back in a minuit or two. Be sure to eat that food," she said motioning to it before bending down to pick up her lyre.

That was when she remembered that she hadn't pulled her shirt over her shoulders again. Panic surged through her for a moment. Scars from beatings ran across the top of her arms and her shoulders like spiderwebs. Up on stage was far enough that the old scars couldn't be seen but down here among the people they might have seen it. Her bending down wasn't helping either, her shirt falling a bit farther down her back and reveiling more scars, including the top of three rather vivid ones she had recently gotten from a vampire. She sat up quickly and sent Tracyn another smile befor moving to get up and head for the stage. She wanted to believe so badly that no one had noticed yet the likelyhood was so small that no one in that room had noticed that the hope never fully formed.

Tracyn shook his head slowly, she looked hungry enough. However, she asked him to take it for himself so he did as asked. He thought he had noticed something on Lalandria, they looked almost like...scars? No, they couldn't have been, how foolish of him to think that. He turned his attention back twoards the performer upon the stage.

Lalandria reset herself upon the stool, crossing her ankles and arranging her skirts around her. She also moved her hair so one part draped over her shoulder and the other side left her throat and shoulders bare. She picked up her lyre and gazed around the room, trying to pick up the mood. The occupants were tired but could be raised to activity. They were restive which the innkeeper obviously didn't want.

She began at a slower but happy tune that seemed to tug at the listener's senses, urging them to listen and making them alert. She quickly built it up to a friendly, open, dance tune that was popular in most of the city's inns. She added her voice in and created a story of it, like she did to all her songs. Her song urged those listening to leave their seats and dance. Unlike her tragic songs these songs could only nudge rather than make the listener act in a certain way.

Most of the younger occupants smiled at the familiarity of the tune and several stood up and danced, more joining in as the song continued. One or two of the men took hold of a serving girl and went off dancing with her with the permission of the innkeeper. Lalandria didn't use the common words but instead added her own version of one someone taught her once. It was of a milk maid that had more lovers than she could count. It told of who and where she meant them. It also told how she kept her dallies away from her father's eyes and that of her other multiple lovers.

It was a fun song, a type that Dria didn't usually play, but when she did, she added a side to it that most would never hear. The added side was of a story untold beneath the surface. That perhaps the milkmaid was broken hearted and would endlessly have such trivial relationships to keep her mind off her own troubles. A life to make up for one lost to another girl, so she became the girl that had taken her own life away.

She went through the song singing it from the milkmaid's point of view. Her posture and the exposed throat and shoulder made it more real, as if Lalandria was the milkmaid herself. Dria often sent winks at men that looked her way to add to the illusion. It was all a game and one she played often. It also had the innkeeper extremely happy, waiting at the flow of ale and wine that would come later.

After a little way into the song she put her lyre to the side and began to dance while singing. Her voice never faltered or ended, keeping the song true. Her dance was a complicated one that looked even harder when she flourished her skirt to show a bit of leg her and there. It was of course all respectable. Lalandria even went down among the dancers and drew other into the crowd but quickly moving them into the arms of another partner before they could notice her scars. She moved quickly from table to table, smiling and singing the whole time.

The song was a long one, having to go through all the maid's lovers and trips to avoid notice. Once she finished, all the dancers were tired and the listeners clapped enthusiastically. Lalandria returned to her place upon the stage and bowed before the room with a flourish. Though they weren't her specialty the fun songs were what she enjoyed the best and it showed with her slightly blushed cheeks and large smile. The expression brought to light and showed her age like nothing else did, showing just how young she was. Her eyes usually added several years to her but after participating in dances like this, that most girls her age would have attended regularly, brought a bit of a child back into her.

She returned to her shared table with Tracyn. Her hair was also a bit mussed but just added to the illusion of her being younger. It also gave her a free, wild look that made her look all the prettier. This was what she might have been if her life hadn't been like it was. Lalandria felt like she looked, younger and filled with life. With the emotion she forgot to pull her shirt back over her shoulders once more. She smiled brightly at Tracyn as she sat down and a serving girl brought her ale.

There they were again, scars? He blinked, refreshing his vision. Yes they had to be scars. He paused thinking for a second, "Nice song," He smiled. He was going to have to leave soon, he had big plans for the next day. He still hadn't touched his fist drink.

(I really gotta start making longer posts...)

IC: Lalandria took her seat, her emotions soaring. That is until he saw Tracyn blink several times. What was it? Had he had something wrong with the song? Had he thought she had been too revealing? Lalandria searched her mind frantically for something she might have done wrong, something that might have offended him. Her happy smile faded as her thoughts dashed through her head. Her usual color had also returned to her cheeks, making her look paler, more like her usual tragic beauty. Without meaning to she rearranged her hair, also taking away the slight wildness to it. She had returned to her usual self in what couldn't have been more than moments. That was until she noticed that her shoulders were bare. She wanted to curse herself and almost blushed. Control took over automatically. Her hands didn’t' even twitch. Her body was covered in scars and she shouldn't be ashamed. Her chin rose imperceptibly, giving a proud tilt to her face.

Tracyn finally said something. Nice Song. That was all? The small praise still warmed her. She had grown up being told she would be nothing but a poor man's play toy. She felt a burst of anger at her father lighten up inside her, but kept it hidden from Tracyn. She eyed him, noticing he had eaten the bread, but not touched his drink at all. Her brows drew together. Why? He did work differently and he had mentioned living with his parents. Perhaps they didn't overly approve of drinking?

"Thank you," she replied, and then looked back down at her hands and decided it would be rude if she held him back.

"You probably have to work tomorrow, so you will want an early start and a clear head," she said, thinking to herself quite sarcastically, not like she didn't.

She stood up and walked over to his side of the table and bent over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before standing back up.

"If you ever get lost in Lomedor ask for Dui'queller Pub and there ask the bartender after me and say I sent you. He will make sure no one messes with you till I get there. Also while your in that place, don't look or speak to anybody, they aren't nice people," said hoping he would never be dull enough to go to the city, but if he did she could find a way to get him back out.

"I hope you have luck finding your sister," Dria added with a second thought, as a serving girl was sent her way to tell Lalandria to stop talking and start singing.

OOC: Don't worry, I am acctaully trying to make my posts longer so sorry for dragging you through all of Lalandria's mind.

(Tis ok)
Tracyn blushed and gathered his pack, "Yeah I should be getting some sleep," He stood, smiling and walking to the door. He turned back and waved before exiting. He walked his way back to the family home, but paused. He looked up to the night sky, who knows what would happen. He intended to find out.
(Oh and I made the other topic, so join that if you will.)