#bards will be bards

[fistfuloftarenths]

isn't it a marvel

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!Tav Rating: G Wordcount: 1400 Genre: Self-indulgence Summary: Tav, Rugan, and Olly after the end of the world has been averted, sitting in a tavern in Waterdeep. Tav causes minor trouble, as is her wont. AO3 link here

Faerun never stayed saved. Not for her, not for anyone. Not even Elminster. On this fine spring afternoon, however, it seemed to have slowed its hurtling towards certain destruction to a near-halt. Tav had some hours to idle away, and meant to make the most of her reprieve. 

The tavern reminded her of the Singing Lute, back in the Gate. Small, cantilevered over the water, and crawling with bards. None of them were familiar to Tav, and yet the conversations she could overhear were the same as ever - someone had a new lute, someone else had finally brought down the hammered dulcimer they’d been talking about for weeks, someone owed someone else money and didn’t have it, someone had a new hat, and - bards being bards -  there was that one table who were convinced of their own natural superiority, and were talking too loud and flinging themselves about in dramatic poses.

Tav and her companions were tucked in a corner, their backs comfortable against the sea wall. Their choice of table is habitual now, much like the way she always checks for other exits. A trellis covered with vines shelters them from the sun and lines of sight, and Rugan has a shield up, just in case. Her chair was tipped back, one booted foot on the railing to keep her balance, and she was quietly running through fingerpicking exercises on her new lute. Yesterday Gale had reinforced it with magic, while Tav paced around his room in an excess of nervous energy. Just because her wizard friend was a genius didn’t mean he understood the importance of tuning, or resonance, and Tav had had to stop herself flinching every time a spell took and sank into the marquetry. 

His calculations had been right, and Tav was delighted with the results. The instrument ought to survive the indignities of the road with aplomb. Tucked away in a pouch she also had a fingerpick ring for the first knuckle of her thumb. This was enchanted to amplify the volume of her lute, but Rugan had taken one look at it and approved of it as a way to take someone’s eye out. 

He was sitting next to her, talking to Olly over a pint of something bitter. Her Zhent looked much the same as he did when she met him. Less blood. His hair wasn’t as grey as it should be, and he’d stopped complaining about his knees a couple of winters ago. Tav had her suspicions about this, but she was reluctant to look a gift Zhent in the mouth, not when she wanted it to keep kissing her for decades yet. In her opinion the gods owed her for that whole tadpole business - still owe her, really. Turned out that getting out of the world-saving business was harder than she’d thought.

Olly looked well, crow-black pulled back in a glossy ponytail and no longer hiding behind his fringe. She wasn’t entirely sure what he did these days, and hadn’t asked, since what she doesn’t know can’t be winkled out of her with magic or torture or both. Regardless, smiles were coming easily on his face, and he was carrying at least two items that were positively seething with enchantment. Whoever he was running with now was much better for him than the Gate crew ever was. Present company excluded.

Tav seized upon a lull in the conversation. “I learned a new one,” she said to Olly, and strummed a little louder so the tune would carry over to him. Rugan, recognising it, sighed heavily. Tav ignored him. “Comes from Moonshae, or so they told me.”

“They're far from staid after a raid,

These men of Zhentil Keep.

They kill off all the women,

For they much prefer the sheep.

The men don't eat their ill-got treat.

Not one of them's a glutton.

So isn't it a marvel

That they always smell of mutton?

Olly laughed. “They used to call us sheepfuckers at home. Busted some heads about it as a boy. Or tried to.” 

“Met a man from Ashabenford who claimed goats were a better lay than sheep,” Rugan added. “Said they were friskier.” As with most of Rugan’s stories, it was impossible to tell if he was lying. It seemed plausible, and yet -

He hadn’t taken the song with that much equanimity when Tav had first learned it, so much so that Tav had taken perverse delight in whistling the melody at odd times and places and waiting until the scowl lowered itself onto his face. Things had come to a head over Tav's extended digression about whether it would be ethical for Rugan to eat mutton stew. They had been very late starting on the road the following morning. 

Unfortunately, Tav’s lapse into fond memories was interrupted. Someone from one of the closer tables had come over, and was looking uncomfortably at her. 

“Excuse me,” said the interlocutor, a young human girl in peacock velvet and a scarlet feather in her cap, “but you might want to be careful where you play that. The Black Network has eyes and blades everywhere.” 

“Do you mean to say there might be Zhentarim here? Listening to me?” Tav asked, all wide-eyed innocence and absolutely not looking anywhere near the man next to her.

“Davil Starsong’s played on that very stage,” said the girl pointing, where the hammered dulcimer was being drowned out by the table of posturing assholes. A pity, because Tav would have liked to hear it. It’s not the sort of instrument she came across often on the road.

“Hmmm,” said Tav, noncommittally, and strummed through the first few bars again.  The girl looked pleadingly at Rugan, being the oldest and presumably the wisest of their little group. 

“Shouldn’t think she’s got much to fear from the Zhents, lass,” he rumbled, and slid a hand onto Tav’s thigh. Tav relented - the girl didn’t know, and the warning was kindly meant.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said. “But while you’re here - who are that group over there? With the purple hat and the moustache? The loud ones?”

“Them,” said the girl, screwing up her face with disgust. “That’s Arlon. His aunt’s a guildmaster, and his uncle married up, and they’ve got a lock on half the good parties.” 

Tav nodded. There was good money to be made there, and if they liked you they’d ask for you again. Most of the time the kitchen staff would feed you leftovers, too, and damn if the rich didn’t eat well. If you could get your foot in the door. If.

“He’s not even that good,” continued the girl. “Says he likes Volo, because everyone knows them and it’s easy.”

Tav shot bolt up right anyway, outraged. “Volo’s not even a bard,” she spat, and Rugan chuckled into his beer.

“Exactly!” said the girl. “He’s a -”

“Lying hack of a wizard,” finished Tav, vengefully. She glared at Arlon. “Something should be done.” Rugan’s hand tightened on the inside of her thigh. Careful.

“Er,” the girl said, somewhat doubtfully. Her eyes flicker across to Olly, who grinned back at her. Gods, he’s grown up.

“I’m not going to burn down your local,” Tav said. “Just…dampen the noise. Promise.”

“Really?” The girl’s eyes shone.

“You can’t,” said Tav. “I can, and I’m leaving town tomorrow. Consider it a thank you for the warning.” 

“Oh. All right.”

“You should go sit down. Don’t want to be near me when it happens.” 

Tav tapped a soft rhythm onto the body of her lute, summoning water, and dropped it onto Arlon and his clique. Shrieks of outrage and surprise echoed across the bay, and then most of the bar was laughing, and laughing hard. Water’s heavier than people think, but Tav has judged it nicely; they’re drenched to the skin and will have to sadly squelch all their way home, but no one is physically injured. Gods, they look ridiculous, careful coiffeuses turned to lank rat’s tails on their necks. Even Arlon’s moustache is drooping. They barely manage to flounce as they leave.

“Nice work,” said Rugan, into her ear, in that tone, in that voice. Deliberately, Tav guesses; he knows the effect that has on her. He slid his hand further up her thigh, and Tav shot him a sideways glare. Damn him.  Damn her susceptibility to him.

Emboldened, the hammered dulcimer player launched into a frottole, and began to sing. 

[gummybard]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to be a stressed adult male protagonist splashing water on his face in the bathroom

[eydilily]

guys with their respective bugs

[m0nomercy]

THE FINAL MIKU!!! satyr bard miku :)

thanks so much for sticking with me these past couple weeks i have had so much fun drawing these!! will post a full lineup of them all tomorrow!

[eliotbaum]

The Performer 🎭🎶 A character class for The Hidden Isle.

You can preorder the TTRPG here

[finnfrei]

Alright, I bet you’re not here for my bard and her dragonborn, but bare with me for a sec

[muhomorovna]

I was practicing with clothes and got a little carried away~

Also a little contribution for the tailor!Astarion au, because my Tav is a bard with a noble background and usually has a need in fancy outfits.

[blumineck]

The Bard is At It again!*

For a full breakdown of the new rules, check here

Patreon - Archery Tutorials

[kaiasky]

listen up chucklefucks, i just gotta say. I'm not defending zir, but I'm sad zie deactivated. Like, i get that trauma lasts a long time and the good stuff is maybe easy to forget?? so maybe it's just like that. And my beloved mutual @/pompeyspuppygirl made a post about zir clout chasing behavior, which is pretty shitty behavior if it's true (and if we're canceling someone it had better be pretty severe). anyways now that zie's gone pompeyspuppygirl said it was okay to make this post (again, thanks ppg everyone go follow her--really everyone in this whole drama is worth a follow)

ANYways yeah zie was my mutual and like, reblogged a lot my smaller posts. (that isn't to discredit what my mutual pompeyspuppygirl is saying about zie clout chasing ofc). AND idk zie was always reblogging art from new and undiscovered artists and reblogging donation posts (which if you don't know is really bad if you're trying to clout chase...) (again, though, ppg is my mutual i believe her.) and like, remember on valentines day i tried to blaze zir posts and zie told me to stop because zie didn't want the posts to go viral? (but again ppg is my mutual and has a lot of proof in the Google doc I'm not trying to disprove that I'm just saying what else I know)

Idk, like i feel like a lot of people loved zir's blog a while back, bc like zie DID make some good posts?? So idk why everybody's acting like they aren't even a little bit sad.,. like ngl this feels like maybe all the reasonable people left to Twitter and all the Twitter refugees who love drama came here??? shdfhhdhdhdhdh haha but idk...look idk, i just, julie i do miss you. idk. more thoughts later sorry I'm getting worked up shshs

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

as misery loves orphans

[scentedwonderlandpoetry]

Further new discoveries have been made on my theory.

[basketobread]

sometimes when the enemy is at like 1 hp, i like to hit them with some good ol vicious mockery because nothing is funnier to me than actually obliterating someone into the next life with a yo mama joke

[kakemakes]

Astarion is having some regrets pursuing the Drunkard Bard ( Lenny loves to mess with him )

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~

[ruushes]

i HAVE been working on this ive just been fighting it for my fucking life but i think ive finally got it to the point i can work on finishing 😭