The Bard Goes to an Audition

[favoritebean_writes]

“Trio Furioso For Hire!”

The words danced across the marquee in dazzling red. I watched the ad scroll by, silently wondering if I made the right decision. The receptionist at the desk tilted his head to the side.

“Soooo, can I – uh help you?” he asked with concern as a line had begun to form behind me.

“I’m here for the interview with Smatt.”

“One second,” he said, glancing down at a ledger on the counter. “Are you- Krush?”

I winced. “I guess I technically am Krush, but I don’t use that name anymore. I’m actually-“

“Got it,” the receptionist said with a sigh. “Everyone who interviews with Smatt suddenly needs a new persona. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

“I mean,” I began, “I haven’t been Krush for a while, I should be in your book as Katt?”

 

 

“I’d take it up with your recruiter,” the receptionist said before ducking behind the wall with the scrolling marquee. “Be right baaaack!” he sang.

I waited for what seemed like nearly an hour. People in line behind me fidgeted quietly at first, then they began to whisper. Eventually, it was loud enough that no one noticed a small goblin enter the lobby. I watched as several in line behind me began passing along a hockey sack when I felt a tap on my elbow.

I turned to face a short goblin, whom after catching my attention, straightened to attention.

“Hello, I’m Smatt,” he said with flourish. He bowed so low, his head nearly grazed the floor. “And you,” he proffered his hand, “must be Katt, the piper?”

I nodded. “Hi,” I said, then realizing that this wasn’t the best way to begin an interview, I shook my head quickly, “I mean, YES! My name is Katt, and I’m a pirating, I mean NOT a pirating! I’m indeed a piper. I studied at Chrysalis Conservatory in the Southlands.”

Smatt stood like a statue. In my haste, I bowed, thinking perhaps it was customary to greet goblins in this manner. How should I know? I’d never interviewed with a goblin before. As I bent at the waist like a performer on stage, I caught Smatt’s smell. He smelled strongly of cinnamon and sandalwood, which did not fit my perceived notion of what a goblin should smell like. I’d always been told that goblins smelled like brine and stale bread, but the Southlands don’t take kindly to the goblin race in general.

“Sorry,” I said, offering a sheepish grin, “I’ve never interviewed as a guild entertainer before.”

Smatt gave a hearty laugh and clapped me on the elbow. “Welcome to the fold, Katt of Southlands! Come with me, and we’ll talk brass tacks, shall we?”

I followed Smatt away from the reception desk. As we passed, the receptionist gave a little wink and whispered, “Good luck,” before calling for the next in line. We proceeded to take the stairs up to a little mezzanine, which overlooked the lobby. Stairs continued from the mezzanine to a closed door, but Smatt gestured that I take a seat on a wingback chair that faced a fireplace, away from the view below.

After I took a seat, Smatt sat across from me in a matching wingback chair.

“Would you care for something to drink, Katt?” Smatt asked.

I shook my head.

“Very well. Why don’t you tell me about your previous job as a pirate then.”

I began to cough uncontrollably. I glimpsed Smatt’s mouth moving, and a goblet of something was foisted towards me. I took a drink, hoping that my cough would subside. The liquid was cool and minty. Suddenly, all was calm.

“Tea,” Smatt said. “A specialty from the Middle East, it’s a mint tea. Should calm that cough of yours.”

“How did you know about me being a pirate?” I asked quietly.

“Other than the fact that you confessed to such below? Well, your agent booked your interview with us as ‘Krush,’ and I ran a background query. No good interviewer wouldn’t come in without doing a little preparatory work beforehand, now would they? That’s bad form.”

“Oh,” I said, crestfallen. I’d really wished my past as Krush the Pirate hadn’t followed me. Going to Chrysalis Conservatory was supposed offer me the fresh start I needed.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I wasn’t any good at it. I mean. I’m great at swabbing decks and pickpocketing. I can hold my own in a fight, but I wasn’t really pirate material. My heart wasn’t in it. So, I quit, and auditioned at the conservatory.”

“Don’t worry, I got the blessing from Pippin, my old boss. She even wrote me a letter or recommendation. Said I was better at piping than pirating anyway.”

Smatt grinned. “That, I know. My cousin’s fiancé is Pippin of Torn Isle. I hosted them for a fortnight, and they regaled me with stories of Krush, the ‘would-be piper.’ So, when your recruiter put your name in the hat, I knew I had to interview you. Pippin spoke highly of you, most certainly.”

I relaxed a little. ‘That’s good,’ I thought. I worried I had disappointed Pippin when I said I wanted to leave.

“Besides, we really need a good bard for our band.”

“The Furiosa Trio?” I gasped, “But your trio is perfect as it is! I thought I was auditioning for the café entertainment staff.”

“Pshaw!” bellowed a voice from the top of the stairs. “Pshaw, I say! Pshaaaaaaahhhhhw!”

Smatt turned toward the stairs. “Ahh, Gareth. You’re just in time, I say. Our interview has just begun.” Smatt smiled, and gestured for Gareth to join us.

My jaw fell open.

“You’re Gareth, the noble Dragonborn Archer!”

“Heh, you got that right!” Gareth puffed his chest with pride. “Pleased to meetcha!”

Gareth extended a gloved hand to me. I shook it eagerly. The Furiosa Trio’s archer was known far and wide, as a jovial and chivalrous sort. When the infamous trio wasn’t dispatching demons, he hosted a comedy sketch show.

“With me, comedy is never a DRAG, ha ha!” was his punchline. He came to Chrysalis two winters back, and there was not a single student there that wasn’t in stitches by the end of his set.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” another voice called out. A heavily armored individual came running up the stairs. “I sort of ended up in-“

“A brawl at the coffee shop?” Gareth answered with a smirk. “Come now, Keely, this is becoming a habit. How many coffee shops have you been kicked out of now?”

“I was not in a brawl,” Keely sniffed. “I was actually finishing up my laundry, and I ended up in a deep conversation with the girl I live below. We were talking about- um-“

“Quite alright, Keely. Please, have a seat.” Smatt conjured up two additional chairs, and the new arrivals were seated.

With a whisper, two more goblets appeared, and Keely took hers, and drained the cup. “I can never get enough of your tea, Smatt. Someday, I hope you’ll share the recipe.”

“Not a chance,” Smatt grinned. “Back to our charge here, team! This is Katt the Piper, whom might be the ideal fit for our group. We’ll finally have the chance to shirk that wretched name given us years ago.”

“Aww, I liked the name Furiosa Trio,” said Gareth. He crossed his legs. “Well, Katt the Piper, can you play us a little ditty then?”

I stood up and took out a piccolo from a holster at my side. “But of course! I like to call this one, ‘Smash the Enemy!’”

I raised the piccolo to my lips, took a breath, and began to play a series of diminished arpeggios, loudly. My tone wasn’t particularly sweet, but my staccato eighth notes were like little daggers. As I spanned two octaves, I heard cries from below, and the balcony railing began to crumble and pitch toward the ground below.

“Bawww, please stop that incessant noise!” shouted a familiar voice below. It was the receptionist from earlier.

Gareth laughed raucously. “That, my friends, is the song of my kinfolk! Oh Bard, did you study with the dragonborn then?”

I paused mid-arpeggio and tilted my head. I lowered the piccolo and tapped my nose with my left forefinger.

“I did study with Graag the Improbable during my third semester at Chrysalis. She was my woodwinds instructor.”

“Graag?” Keely piped up. “Graag! That beautiful muse! She is a wonderful lover, but her melodies are certainly-“

“Genius! Graag’s my sister in law. I always visit her when I’m taking a break to do variety shows. She and I go way back,” Gareth said with a smile.

“Graag is married then?” Keely rose from her wingback chair, looking angry. “I thought she would wait for me. I guess tieflings aren’t good enough for someone like her.” Keely raised her battle axe, as if to strike the wall.

“Come now, Keely,” Smatt said quietly. “You’re the one who dumped Graag if I recall, and jealousy isn’t a good look on you. Sit. Have more tea.”

Smatt conjured another goblet of tea, and reluctantly, Keely took it.

“Please do continue, Katt,” Smatt said. “I understand you play other instruments, and in other styles?”

I looked down, feeling very nervous. Would Keely attack me if I continued? I took a big breath, and decided to shake that fear off.

“Yessir, I play two other instruments, although admittedly, I traveled lightly, and only brought the piccolo you see here. I do have the ability to tell jokes and do acrobatic entertainment, should you desire.”

“Oh, we get plenty of jokes from Gareth here,” Keely said in a husky voice. “Oh, and no hard feelings, kid. Smatt’s right. I ended the affair with your - professor. But that’s a tale for another day. Here!” Keely reached into her pouch and produced a small hand drum.

“Would this be of use to you?”

“Oh, thank you!” I smiled. I took the drum and began to tap a quick rhythmic pattern. As the pattern repeated in an ostinato, little orbs began to circle around the room, lighting even the darkest corners. The orbs began to circle around the perimeter, until I ended with a final rhythmic cadence.

The Furiosa Trio applauded. “Dancing lights! Bravo!” they proclaimed in unison.

“Now that is entertaining,” Smatt said with delight. “I’ve always been a fan of that particular spell.”

I gave the hand drum back to Keely, who accepted it with a warm smile. She opened her bag, and gingerly put the drum away.

“Well, so far, I’m sold,” she said at last, “But no bard is a proper bard without the gift of mockery. Please, demonstrate for us.”

“Ahh, before that,” Gareth stretched behind him. “Do you play lute?” he asked. “I have this instrument, but I don’t know how to tune it.”

He presented a beautiful lute, and when it touched my hands, I felt an instant sense of magic, as if I could walk into a live volcano, without sustaining a scratch. As I caressed the instrument, I noted that indeed, one of the strings was loosened way too far.

“If I may,” I said.

Gareth nodded.

I began to tune the instrument, whose strings were delicate but sturdy. After a few moments, I began to pluck a melody on the strings. It was one I learned as a child back when I lived with the pirates.

The ditty was simple enough, but the better one’s technique, the more effective the song was. In this case, I had learned it as a defense against some of the meaner pirates we encountered on the seas. Used correctly, it could keep storms at bay, or could reduce a grown pirate to tears.

The song goes like this:

Sumer is icumen in
Lhude sing cuccu
Groweþ sed
and bloweþ med
and springþ þe wde nu
Sing cuccu

Awe bleteþ after lomb
lhouþ after calue cu
Bulluc sterteþ
bucke uerteþ
murie sing cuccu

Cuccu cuccu
Wel singes þu cuccu
ne swik þu nauer nu.

I played the melody through a round, then began to sing when the second chorus began. The lute felt sturdy in my hands, and it began to glow like amber. As I began a third round, my fingers found strings deftly, and I incorporated musical ornamentation here and there as I played. My voice imitated the strings in a light round.

As I came to the words, ‘nauer nu,’ I looked up, and stopped short. The Furiosa Trio stared at me, tears streaming down their faces. Behind me, I heard a loud honking noise. I turned to see people from below had ventured to the mezzanine to watch. The receptionist blew his nose with a kerchief, then dabbed his eye.

“What did I just hear?” the receptionist whispered. “Were you singing about the beginning of summer, or were you insulting my grandfather? I can’t tell for sure.”

I straightened my posture, holding the lute gingerly in my hands.

“I sang about the arrival of summer, and of the animals. But this version of the melody is a spell, which allows, at my discretion, the listener to hear words of vicious mockery. It is a defense spell,” I said plainly. I bowed and turned to relinquish the lute.

“Very well performed,” Smatt said. Keely and Gareth nodded solemnly.

“Your magic is quite polished. I could almost see the spell weaving in and out of your fingers during the first round. By the time you began to sing, the spell had been cast. I could hear the folk song, but I also heard what I believed to be my innermost insecurities thrown back at me. It was truly magnificent to behold,” Smatt gushed behind tears.

“I uh, I hope you didn’t take the spell personally,” I demurred.

Gareth guffawed loudly. “This was an audition, and you nailed it, eh?”

Keely seemed lost in thought. Finally, she spoke up. “I have never encountered one of the Fey before. Eladrin are legendary to my kind. But it is your dedication to your craft that impresses me. You have shown a mastery of three different instruments. Two, you did not bring with you. That illustrates versatility, which is important for our line of work.”

Keely turned to Smatt and Gareth. “What say? I say we offer them the job.”

My eyes widened. I didn’t know what to expect, but certainly not a job with the Furiosa Trio.

“Of course,” Smatt said with a smile. “What say we clean this up a bit,” and the goblin snapped his fingers. The balcony reassembled itself, wounds healed, and tears dried. Those at the top of the stairs ducked down into the lobby once more, whispering with excitement.

“We’ll give you time to think about the job,” Gareth said, “but essentially, you would join our trio. 25% of the profits, medical, dental, and vision insurance are included. You would have to participate in occasional press tours, and of course, we have a group meeting once a week on Thorsdays. Over mead, at noon, downstairs.”

“You would also have a regular stipend,” Smatt said, clearing his voice. “Fifty gold a week. You are on your own for room and board, save the group meetings and travel lodging. But, I recommend you procure a very sturdy tent. We tend to camp a lot. We’re not the hotel type of campers.”

“Um, when would I start?” I asked. I already knew I would accept the job. I mean, wouldn’t you take a job to work with the coolest band in town?

“Today, if you like,” Keely smiled.

I smiled broadly. This was turning out to be the best, if only, job interview and audition in my life. I was not going to let this opportunity pass me by.

“I’m in!”

“Welcome to the Furiosa Trio- nope! I mean, welcome to the Fabuleux Quartet!” Smatt, Gareth, and Keely rose, placing their hands on top of each other in a semi-circle. I placed my hand atop theirs, and as I did, they began to chant, “Gooooo TEAM!”

The hands pulled away, and a little spark of light appeared for just a second.

“We’re still working on our rally call. If you have suggestions, bring them up at our group meeting this Thorsday,” Smatt said. “Oh, and we’re glad you are joining us.”

Author Note:  Sumer is a Cumin In is a 13th century folk song likely from Wessex.  It's performed by many early music ensembles, but this version is cool.

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