α´ ; dictated | action

[sosweet]

… So this is how it works, huh? [ A small, inquisitive baritone voice is heard as he looks at all the handwriting over the papers. Sitting on the edge of the fountain outside the cabins there is a man wearing his infamous orange shirt for anyone who might be close, concentrated in what he has to say. ]

It seems like I am far away from all that I have come to know. And even do not know everything that is around me. Certainly this isn’t Elysium or the Underworld but neither is the Sanctuary of Athena.

[ Why is he here is something he cannot understand. Why him? Would this be a reliable source? ]

Any information about this place… any detail you may have even if it is irrelevant will be entirely appreciated.

[ If he can find a permanent way out, even better… ]

Comments

[peacockherald]

The Castle took my ability for music, so it is something I can only listen to now. But I can still tell a story or two - even a few sagas.

_{[Haha, see what he did there?]}

[sosweet]

[ A tiny smile at the pun, indeed. But there's a slight frown at the former comment that catches his attention -- ]

The Castle can do so?

[peacockherald]

Yes. It is my permanent loss - I cannot sing, compose, or play music of any sort. I cannot even touch instruments.

[sosweet]

[ Pensive. ] Tell me more about this... losses.

[peacockherald]

The Castle claims something from you permanently as a price for being here. In my case it is my Bardic Gift. For some it is memories, or an act they must perform.