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Description

The tiefling leaning against the tree, strumming his lute lightly, softly sang the words of a popular song. The centaur furrowed his brow as he side-eyed the oblivious bard. He strummed the last cord and looked out waiting for his applause.
“Thank you, my friends. Do any of you have requests?”
Scoffing, the centaur crossed his arms, “How about the song of complete silence?”
The bard smirked, “What? You don’t like the classics?”
“I don’t like any manner of music which means to spread lies and controversy.”
He lets out a chuckle, “Hey, it’s not my fault that those songs are popular.”
“Those songs are popular because of you. All you bards do is sing the songs that drunken men request. Without any concern of the damage that your mere words produce. The anger and hatred that you stir with each chord; you will sing whatever fabrication that is desired regardless of the truth.”
The bard took a second, but smirked again, “Only if the coin is pretty.”
The woman cut in, “Alright,” the centaur groaned and looked away as the bard nodded, “please, can we drop it?”
The woman and Bard connected gaze, she looked pained and slightly annoyed.
“I do know one other song,” He started tuning his lute, “It’s not very well known, so I don’t hear many ask for this song.”
The wizard sent a look at the tiefling, warning him to stop before he made anything worse, but he avoided her gaze as he started to strum out a melody. Everyone looked at each other, waiting for any reaction. But the first to say anything was the Firbolg. She garbled out a response as she excitedly waved her hands about. Even the bard paused to look at her in confusion. She garbled another message looking to the wizard, as she was the only one who could speak her language.
“She said that she knows this song but she hasn’t heard it in a few years. Her tribe would play it after each ceremonial meeting of her other tribes.”
The bard nodded “It is called ‘The Song Between Worlds’, it was our final test at the Bards College. I only remember the lute part though.”
He started again but this time after the first verse, the Firbolg joined in with a subtle beat on her shield. The Owlin looked at the wizard who just shrugged with a confused laugh. The Firbolg said something to the wizard, asking her to join. She started to clap along awkwardly. The bard chuckled, playing a little softer, “Come on now, I know you play something. All you magic casters usually do.”
She started to come up with some refusal but the tiefling shook his head, “You usually play either a string instrument or a flute to keep your fingers strong and your mind busy, right?’
She stayed silent.
The bard smirked, “So what do you play?”
Everyone glanced at the wizard, she blushed but reluctantly reached into her pack pulling out a violin and her bow.
“Not all of us play instruments, I’ll have you know.” she blushed as she tuned her violin.
“Yeah, only the good ones do.”
She blushed even harder as she set-up, “I don’t even know this song though.”
The Firbolg waved her hand garbling. The wizard looked at the Bard who just nodded. He started again with the Firbolg, they waited for the wizard as she eventually joined in. As they played, eventually she loosened up and smiled at the music getting much more lively and joyful. The Bard danced around the group continuing to play, avoiding the centaur who was still avoiding eye contact. The Owlin rolled his eyes, as he started to whistle to the tune. The wizard smiled as the tiefling rushed over to harmonize his whistle to the Owlin. The music continued with almost everyone playing along to the bard. He looked at the centaur who was smiling slightly, but still had his arms crossed.
“Come on centaur, you’re already tapping your foot. Or hoof I guess.”

The centaur glared and looked away with harumph. “Centaurs do not dance or sing.”

“Well good thing I’m asking you to play an instrument.”
He glared at the gleaming tiefling, “I don’t play an instrument either. And even if I did, I would never play with a Bard.”
The Firbolg garbled angrily, placing her hands on her hips. Everyone looked to the wizard who shook her head, “I don’t want to repeat what she said.”
“Centaur, you don’t have to like me. You’re completely right, I am willing to say and do anything as long as I have enough coin in my pocket. I mooch off the angry drunks in any tavern I play in for my own self-interest. I guess I would much rather deflect whatever hatred they will say to me,” the centaur looked at the tiefling, “onto anyone else.”
The Owlin and wizard look to the centaur. He looks at the fire and sighs, “I don’t even know what song you all are playing,” he looks at the bard, “I’ve never heard of it.”
He smiles weakly “That's the point of the song. When the very first peace treaty between different races of people was being signed, they had a huge celebration. A grand feast and so much music. Bands hearing from instruments they’ve never seen before, playing songs they’ve never heard of. They started to combine their instruments into this grand production, and created the song called ‘The Song Between Worlds’.” The bard shrugged with a laugh, “The only problem was, everyone was so drunk, they forgot to write it down. So the point of the song was just different instruments from different kinds of people, playing together.” The wizard and Firbolg smiled at each other, and the bard offered his hand to the centaur, “So what’d you say? Will you play along with a tiefling bard, a human wizard, a Firbolg druid, and an Owlin ranger?” Everyone waited as the centaur stared at his hand. Eventually he rolled his eyes with a groan and shook his hand, “I still don’t like you bard.”
He chuckled and nodded as the centaur grabbed a flute from his side bag. Everyone drew in their breath and played again. The music filled their camp with a delight that originally wasn’t there, giving their campaign the luck that it needed. As the song finished, the wizard and Firbolg clapped and the Centaur nodded with a smirk and the tiefling with a huzzah. The Owlin chirped as he passed around cups pouring his warmed spiced ale. They toasted to their journey yet to come and continued their night united.

Description

The tiefling leaning against the tree, strumming his lute lightly, softly sang the words of a popular song. The centaur furrowed his brow as he side-eyed the oblivious bard. He strummed the last cord and looked out waiting for his applause.
“Thank you, my friends. Do any of you have requests?”
Scoffing, the centaur crossed his arms, “How about the song of complete silence?”
The bard smirked, “What? You don’t like the classics?”
“I don’t like any manner of music which means to spread lies and controversy.”
He lets out a chuckle, “Hey, it’s not my fault that those songs are popular.”
“Those songs are popular because of you. All you bards do is sing the songs that drunken men request. Without any concern of the damage that your mere words produce. The anger and hatred that you stir with each chord; you will sing whatever fabrication that is desired regardless of the truth.”
The bard took a second, but smirked again, “Only if the coin is pretty.”
The woman cut in, “Alright,” the centaur groaned and looked away as the bard nodded, “please, can we drop it?”
The woman and Bard connected gaze, she looked pained and slightly annoyed.
“I do know one other song,” He started tuning his lute, “It’s not very well known, so I don’t hear many ask for this song.”
The wizard sent a look at the tiefling, warning him to stop before he made anything worse, but he avoided her gaze as he started to strum out a melody. Everyone looked at each other, waiting for any reaction. But the first to say anything was the Firbolg. She garbled out a response as she excitedly waved her hands about. Even the bard paused to look at her in confusion. She garbled another message looking to the wizard, as she was the only one who could speak her language.
“She said that she knows this song but she hasn’t heard it in a few years. Her tribe would play it after each ceremonial meeting of her other tribes.”
The bard nodded “It is called ‘The Song Between Worlds’, it was our final test at the Bards College. I only remember the lute part though.”
He started again but this time after the first verse, the Firbolg joined in with a subtle beat on her shield. The Owlin looked at the wizard who just shrugged with a confused laugh. The Firbolg said something to the wizard, asking her to join. She started to clap along awkwardly. The bard chuckled, playing a little softer, “Come on now, I know you play something. All you magic casters usually do.”
She started to come up with some refusal but the tiefling shook his head, “You usually play either a string instrument or a flute to keep your fingers strong and your mind busy, right?’
She stayed silent.
The bard smirked, “So what do you play?”
Everyone glanced at the wizard, she blushed but reluctantly reached into her pack pulling out a violin and her bow.
“Not all of us play instruments, I’ll have you know.” she blushed as she tuned her violin.
“Yeah, only the good ones do.”
She blushed even harder as she set-up, “I don’t even know this song though.”
The Firbolg waved her hand garbling. The wizard looked at the Bard who just nodded. He started again with the Firbolg, they waited for the wizard as she eventually joined in. As they played, eventually she loosened up and smiled at the music getting much more lively and joyful. The Bard danced around the group continuing to play, avoiding the centaur who was still avoiding eye contact. The Owlin rolled his eyes, as he started to whistle to the tune. The wizard smiled as the tiefling rushed over to harmonize his whistle to the Owlin. The music continued with almost everyone playing along to the bard. He looked at the centaur who was smiling slightly, but still had his arms crossed.
“Come on centaur, you’re already tapping your foot. Or hoof I guess.”

The centaur glared and looked away with harumph. “Centaurs do not dance or sing.”

“Well good thing I’m asking you to play an instrument.”
He glared at the gleaming tiefling, “I don’t play an instrument either. And even if I did, I would never play with a Bard.”
The Firbolg garbled angrily, placing her hands on her hips. Everyone looked to the wizard who shook her head, “I don’t want to repeat what she said.”
“Centaur, you don’t have to like me. You’re completely right, I am willing to say and do anything as long as I have enough coin in my pocket. I mooch off the angry drunks in any tavern I play in for my own self-interest. I guess I would much rather deflect whatever hatred they will say to me,” the centaur looked at the tiefling, “onto anyone else.”
The Owlin and wizard look to the centaur. He looks at the fire and sighs, “I don’t even know what song you all are playing,” he looks at the bard, “I’ve never heard of it.”
He smiles weakly “That's the point of the song. When the very first peace treaty between different races of people was being signed, they had a huge celebration. A grand feast and so much music. Bands hearing from instruments they’ve never seen before, playing songs they’ve never heard of. They started to combine their instruments into this grand production, and created the song called ‘The Song Between Worlds’.” The bard shrugged with a laugh, “The only problem was, everyone was so drunk, they forgot to write it down. So the point of the song was just different instruments from different kinds of people, playing together.” The wizard and Firbolg smiled at each other, and the bard offered his hand to the centaur, “So what’d you say? Will you play along with a tiefling bard, a human wizard, a Firbolg druid, and an Owlin ranger?” Everyone waited as the centaur stared at his hand. Eventually he rolled his eyes with a groan and shook his hand, “I still don’t like you bard.”
He chuckled and nodded as the centaur grabbed a flute from his side bag. Everyone drew in their breath and played again. The music filled their camp with a delight that originally wasn’t there, giving their campaign the luck that it needed. As the song finished, the wizard and Firbolg clapped and the Centaur nodded with a smirk and the tiefling with a huzzah. The Owlin chirped as he passed around cups pouring his warmed spiced ale. They toasted to their journey yet to come and continued their night united.