The Chained Watcher

Strange Music

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(It may seem like Grian is being very oblivious to the fact that Jimmy and Martyn are Listeners, but there's actually a pretty good reason for that. Neither of them are using magic regularly, so he can't sense that, Grian's senses are weakened due to his transformation's limitations, and he just can't fathom a Listener not attacking a Watcher. Some things are weird but understandable, but Listeners will always, always end up fighting Watchers no matter the situation. If a Listener can't win, they'll run and call for backup instead. So clearly they can't be Listeners, because they wouldn't act friendly around him if they were.)

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The stars twinkled in the night sky as street lamps designed to look like oil lamps turned on, illuminating the path for any wandering night owls that might wander through.

A lot of the Hermits had crashed on the nearest available bed/couch/carpet the moment they got there, but some of them had too much energy leftover to sleep just yet. Instead, they went out to wander the town and look for interesting sights, though they weren't expecting to find all that much at this hour. Xisuma had tagged along as the responsible one, so they shouldn't get into too much trouble.

They might have gotten more than a little lost, but that's just part of the fun, is it not? It was when they were passing through a surprisingly empty part of town that the faint echoes of a song found their ears, coming from somewhere in the distance. Naturally, they had to check it out, though they didn't forget to keep an eye on their surroundings just in case someone tried to mug them.

Coming out of an alleyway, the Hermits found an almost empty square with a dried up fountain in the middle, and a strangely dressed man playing a stringed instrument sitting at its edge. Grian found himself lost in thought as the man continued playing his music, the echoes of the sound harmonizing with each note somewhat like his old music box used to do.

The man's song finishes, and Grian takes in the abnormal outfit he was wearing. He's dressed in long flowy robes, with wide billowing sleeves, and a cloth wrapped over his eyes. It doesn't look like the type of material designed to be seen through, so is he perhaps blind? If he's blind due to an old injury, he might have wrapped the cloth over his eyes to keep from scaring off tourists who want to listen to his music.

Something about that particular style of outfit tickles his memories, but he can't quite put his finger on it.

Setting down his instrument, the man smiles and greets them in a melodic voice. "Welcome, travelers, to my little stage." Geez, even his talking sounds musical.

Grian stayed near the back of the group of Hermits, puzzling over what this musician reminds him of. One of the others started talking, but he was a bit too distracted to pay attention to who. "Stage? But this is just an empty square."

The man swept his arm out in a grand gesture while marveling, "Ah, but to the free-spirited, the world is a stage, and the earth the audience. As free spirits yourselves, perhaps you have felt the same." Bit of a funky way of speaking too, but not all that abnormal for an entertainer.

"Oh, how'd you know we were travelers, by the way?"

Smiling gently, the man said, "Your song, it does not play to the same rhythm as the city does. Yours follows a gentler tune, one that revels in the simple joy of a sunrise, and swells with the act of creation."

Okay, now that is weird phrasing, even by his standards. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Grian watched as the man stilled and half turned towards him before stopping. When he next spoke, there was a hint of caution in his voice. "Ah, pardon me for the intrusion. Ever since the world's colors became hidden from me, I have fallen into the habit of listening to the songs that fill the world around me without heeding where they came from."