The Minstrel

Rats

The slave quarters of the Korvinsfald returned to the silence of a crypt, with little more noise than the lapping of the waves, rattle of chains, or the odd, racking cough. Even excusing those sounds made by any of the dozens of Orcs having to answer the call of nature, Killian decided it to be preferable to continue any conversation he could muster. These Orcs could not only understand, but speak the trade tongue after all - at the very least, Sharroc had proven he could - and any talk however simple could do wonders to distract him from the sounds of the damnable sea.

"What does mean, bard?" Sharroc asked him suddenly.

Killian was taken aback at the question, unsure how to respond.

"Red Dwarf call you bard, what mean?" Sharroc asked again, attempting to explain.

Killian pondered for a moment. It was a question with such an obvious answer that he had never had to think about it before.

"A sort of traveling musician - a performer," said Killian at last, "I go from place to place, and if people enjoy my performance, they give me coin as payment."

"Mus-i-ci-an" Sharroc hummed. He pronounced each syllable slowly, as if tasting each over his tongue. Suddenly, his eyes widened in understanding.

"You are druumak!" He exclaimed with excitement. Several heads turned at the sound of the familiar word.

"Yes...I suppose." Killian conceded, having no real comprehension of the word's meaning, and distracted from something brushing against the side of his boot.

"Where your druum?" Sharroc asked. Once again, Killian was lost. The Orc mimicked holding a large, round object with one arm, and striking it with his palm with the other.

"Dr-u-u-u-m" Sharroc sounded out at a snail's pace. Continually he struck the imaginary instrument, causing the chains that bound his wrists to dance violently. At last, the thought was conveyed across to Killian.

"Ah! No, not a drum," Killian corrected, "I play the lute."

Sharroc appeared crestfallen. "No druumak...what 'lute'?"

"A lute is a stringed instrument with a rounded resonator and fretted neck. Some bards prefer different numbers of strings, with some lutes having as few as six or as many as..." Killian paused, noticing the Orc staring at him blankly. With a sigh, Killian removed the case from his back. Setting it in his lap, he carefully undid the straps that held his livelihood.

"It looks like this."

Killian lifted the instrument carefully, as if it were made of glass. He moved the lute just close enough to the prisoner so that it could be seen in the pitch black, though Orcs could see much better in the dark than humans, unbeknownst to Killian. Upon spying what he held, Sharroc let out a gasp that caused Killian to involuntarily pull the lute back with haste.

"Ah! Grumshaal!" Sharroc exclaimed in awe. "You play thrumzak!"

Killian, presuming that the Orc had recognized the instrument and named it in his tongue, nodded conclusively.

"You play much, all over world?"

Killian shifted uncomfortably, replacing the lute into its case. "I have played a lot."

Sharroc thought on this for a moment, before coming to a decision. "Bard play often, maybe you play-"

Suddenly, a loud hissing interrupted the Orc's next words. Sharroc's eyes snapped forward, cutting through the darkness. His pointed ears twitched with the odd sound. Killian fearfully scanned the room. His eyes struggled to make out the figures sitting just in front of him; as such, it was a moment before he realized that the Orc on the bench ahead was speaking.