It had been several months since a strange portal opened up in the modest room that Revan shared with his uncle Davos at the Clamshell inn, swooping Revan up and whisking him away to the strange land of Caido. He had been frightened of course, as anyone would have been being plucked from world and dropped to the next, even more so given the circumstances. Magic had mostly gone from the world that he had come from, with the most prominent of its appearances being in skin changer yet even those had been rare in his place of birth.
Revan himself belonged to that group, his other skin that of a large barn owl and he still had been shocked and amazed at that glowing whirl of ether that had stolen him away. For the first couple of weeks he had stayed in his animal form, eyeing the residents of this world with a cautious curiosity. They had built a ramshackle community in the ruins of some previous civilization and when Revan had heard that some, no, a lot of them had also been taken away from other worlds he thought it might be wise to mingle with the refugees more closely. Perhaps someone would understand what had happened to them and had a plan to get back home.
In the time since then he had split his time between gathering information from people and earning a living as a gleeman, a professional entertainer of sorts. He was skilled in all manner of arts, from the lute, too juggling, fire swallowing, and singing. Yet the art that stirred in his chest most was that of storytelling. Ever since he had been a child he loved telling stories, whether he be reciting one of the great epics of his homeward or spinning a yarn of his own creation Revan loved the feeling of capturing a crowd through the telling of an interesting tale. His showmanship increased obviously as he got older. A dash of flash powder thrown in the air to simulate steel on steel colliding. A few smoke pellets to fill the floor of the Rathskeller to make it seem like his audience was in some evil witches bog. The cheap alchemical tricks he had at his disposal had a slightly muted effect on the crowds here, many had lived in worlds filled with magic, but he still managed to keep them mostly engaged.
Tonight he sat on his three legged stool near the front of the Tavern and told the epic poem Eldoin the Fair. It was about the Princess Eldoin of Morning Rock, and her adventures while attempting to save her kingdom from the Shadow Plague. The story supposedly took place during the Age of Heroes, and Eldoin had been a popular hero in the eyes of young maidens, who often dreamt of being like the beautiful and daring princess. After he finished the poem and got the appropriate amount of oohs and aahhhs from the crowd he sauntered up to the bar, smacking a silver pieced against the wooden top.
" Some Ale if ya please barkeep" he said flashing a Hollywood smile.
Revan himself belonged to that group, his other skin that of a large barn owl and he still had been shocked and amazed at that glowing whirl of ether that had stolen him away. For the first couple of weeks he had stayed in his animal form, eyeing the residents of this world with a cautious curiosity. They had built a ramshackle community in the ruins of some previous civilization and when Revan had heard that some, no, a lot of them had also been taken away from other worlds he thought it might be wise to mingle with the refugees more closely. Perhaps someone would understand what had happened to them and had a plan to get back home.
In the time since then he had split his time between gathering information from people and earning a living as a gleeman, a professional entertainer of sorts. He was skilled in all manner of arts, from the lute, too juggling, fire swallowing, and singing. Yet the art that stirred in his chest most was that of storytelling. Ever since he had been a child he loved telling stories, whether he be reciting one of the great epics of his homeward or spinning a yarn of his own creation Revan loved the feeling of capturing a crowd through the telling of an interesting tale. His showmanship increased obviously as he got older. A dash of flash powder thrown in the air to simulate steel on steel colliding. A few smoke pellets to fill the floor of the Rathskeller to make it seem like his audience was in some evil witches bog. The cheap alchemical tricks he had at his disposal had a slightly muted effect on the crowds here, many had lived in worlds filled with magic, but he still managed to keep them mostly engaged.
Tonight he sat on his three legged stool near the front of the Tavern and told the epic poem Eldoin the Fair. It was about the Princess Eldoin of Morning Rock, and her adventures while attempting to save her kingdom from the Shadow Plague. The story supposedly took place during the Age of Heroes, and Eldoin had been a popular hero in the eyes of young maidens, who often dreamt of being like the beautiful and daring princess. After he finished the poem and got the appropriate amount of oohs and aahhhs from the crowd he sauntered up to the bar, smacking a silver pieced against the wooden top.
" Some Ale if ya please barkeep" he said flashing a Hollywood smile.
