"If you had the skill, I would at least ask," he quipped with a grin. "But if you do not-- then I simply ask you put me in touch with someone who does, since this is the only bar in town. What better place to find people who may have what we want?" Whether they were willing to trade for it might be a different matter, but so long as Vervain could put him in touch with them and smooth that first contact, he trusted in his silver tongue to do the rest.
"I can sew, a bit," he chuckled. "Enough to mend neatly. But perhaps I can convince someone who is more skilled to turn the raw materials into what I need." Isla was a medic, she could probably set neat stitches as well as he could. But then, she was also a Duchess, so perhaps making clothes from scratch was a bit much to ask. But in a settlement like this there would be someone who could do it. And either they or someone who knew them would walk into the bar at some point...
His performance hit the right chords, both musically and emotionally he noted with professional satisfaction. Even the early-afternoon drunks were watching him with interest and a smattering of applause. He offered a bow from where he sat and turned back to Vervain with a shrug and a charming smile. "Two nights a week," he stated. "At least starting out. The trick is to make it something special at first. Draw people in when they know it's a performance night, because it'll be a treat. Then when there's an audience of regulars, expand to three or four nights so that it becomes an expected routine, and nights without entertainment seem to be lacking something from their comfortable expectations." His foxy grin was a little sharp as he packed away the harp with loving care. "If that suits you, mistress Vervain... when do I start?"
"I can sew, a bit," he chuckled. "Enough to mend neatly. But perhaps I can convince someone who is more skilled to turn the raw materials into what I need." Isla was a medic, she could probably set neat stitches as well as he could. But then, she was also a Duchess, so perhaps making clothes from scratch was a bit much to ask. But in a settlement like this there would be someone who could do it. And either they or someone who knew them would walk into the bar at some point...
His performance hit the right chords, both musically and emotionally he noted with professional satisfaction. Even the early-afternoon drunks were watching him with interest and a smattering of applause. He offered a bow from where he sat and turned back to Vervain with a shrug and a charming smile. "Two nights a week," he stated. "At least starting out. The trick is to make it something special at first. Draw people in when they know it's a performance night, because it'll be a treat. Then when there's an audience of regulars, expand to three or four nights so that it becomes an expected routine, and nights without entertainment seem to be lacking something from their comfortable expectations." His foxy grin was a little sharp as he packed away the harp with loving care. "If that suits you, mistress Vervain... when do I start?"
