Continued from here...
Vhalar 35th 720
The early results from last round ensured that Kalortah had plenty of time to study his next opponent, even as he celebrated their first round victories with one another.
It was Naomi Waelha, a far less talented singer, yet decently experienced bard of the Knight's Rest. She often relied upon an instrument during her performances in this Inn or that, and so Kalortah didn't anticipate much of a threat from her. Even so, a little inducement of intimidation wouldn't go amiss. Kalortah made it a point to interact with her as they all had an intermission, mingling with each other and a few of the surrounding plebs who'd come to watch the contest.
Kalortah's armor shined, and his brilliant red wings spread out behind him as he strode forward. For all that his tactics for intimidation were silent, they were of greater volume. His militaristic outfit certainly ensured that he presented an intimidating figure to the other singers gathered. Zana was shy in his presence. That was good, he would work her over if she made it to the next round. Naomi seemed a little off-put by his plate armor get up. Meanwhile, Tilda Klein was far less impressed, used to dealing with all sorts in Almund he surmised. He had her figured as his greatest threat, should she make it to the finals.
The avriel yawned, covering his mouth as he stared down Naomi. "So, it looks like us in the next round. I wonder ladies, if you've heard that there's a famed opera singer in the audience." He smirked, of course it was a lie. Tilda was silent, maintaining an air of being entirely unimpressed by Kalortah, which drove him wild inside. Yet Naomi gulped, and Zana blushed even deeper than she had been. Kal smiled at the two of the Knight's Rest, and then turned his attention to Tilda. He had to find a way to get under her skin, for the coming round. She really couldn't be allowed to progress to the finals, as he determined he had less of a chance against her than even Zana, who had a far superior voice among all his competitors.
"What have you to say, Miss Klein." He smirked at her, using her last name to create a personal gulf between them. "Surely a cat hasn't gotten your tongue this early in the game?"
Zana and Naomi murmured among themselves, but seemed to shyly defer to the elder singers among them. Tilda and Kal. Because that was how Kal saw the competition cropping up. Zana's stage fright and lack of charisma might get her disqualified, while Klein had charisma in spades, a decent voice, and enough training to fake her way to the top.
Tilda smiled back at him, her eyes reflecting none of the mirth that issued from her lips, "Well, Mister Satravial. Let's hope there isn't a cat about, to send you flying to safety." She murmured, tapping her chin as if in thought, "Not all of us scare so easily as the esteemed former Foreign Affairs Councilor." She said coolly, and then excused herself from their company.
Zana piped up meekly, looking with concern at Kalortah, "What's she mean?"
Kal snarled, and snapped at Zana, "Never you mind!" He muttered. He had been willing to delve into the dangers of the fallout of Faldrass. It was his team that had been incompetent. He couldn't continue with them, given their lack of initiative! He wasn't to blame for his tactical retreat from an irretrievable situation...
Nevertheless, he stalked off, leaving Naomi and Zana in the dust as he went off to warm his voice up. He wouldn't let Tilda get into his head this early.
Kalortah nearly rammed into someone on his way back toward his ‘staging area’ as he called it. The young man was a short biqaj fellow, very paunchy face and chubby build. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen arcs old. But he had the most cherubic and obnoxious smile that Kalortah had ever seen. How horrid!
”By Edasha, By Edasha, By Edasha! It’s youuu! Kalortah of the white wing! I’m your number one fan!” The young lad held his hands out at his side and had nearly bent his back in gaping at the gloriousness of the avriel. Kalortah would have scoffed, but he was slightly amused and mollified by the fact that he even had fans. Well, not to say that he wouldn’t, but he didn’t imagine one of them would have the nerve to approach him.
”Hmm, yes… If you’ll excuse me.”
”But wait, don’t you want to sign my drum?” The young biqaj held up a peice of wood, that he supposed could be used as a percussive instrument. Kalortah certainly had flashes of impatience at the moment that prompted him to imagine using it in just such a fashion against this guileless cretin’s brain box. But nevertheless, Kalortah rolled his eyes, accepting the proffered piece of graphite and then signing along the edge of the ‘drum’.
”Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
”But mister Kalortah, would you allow me to be of some small service? A brushing of your hair, a hand massage, a foot rub perhaps? I would do anything for my hero!”
Here, Kalortah had already paced a few feet behind the biqaj, and was well on his way to the staging area, when he seized upon the idea of an opportunity. Anything?
”Well, now that you mention it…” Kalortah barely managed to disguise his conniving smirk as he turned around to face the young fanatic. ”You could be a dear and bring some honeyed tincture to my competitor’s drink. Her voice needs to be in tip top condition for the upcoming round, and I would hate for her to disappoint my fans with a weary voice.”
So saying, Kalortah drew a phial of salt and sand tincture that he’d acquired from some ill-reputed market stall the day earlier. He believed it was just sugar water, but had filled it with salt the day earlier, in case his competition looked too good for him to handle. Fortunately it didn’t seem like he’d be losing the tournament, but one could never be too careful.
He handed the phial over to Adoro. ”Put this honeyed tincture in Tilda’s drink.” Kalortah smirked, ”Tell her you’re a fan of hers, but don’t mention me. I don’t want the poor girl to be embarrassed by my charity.”
”Oh! Yes Kalortah! I’m, I’ll… I’ll be right there! Oh boy!” And Adoro went off, to his errand. Kalortah thought he could get used to having lackeys around.
Then, the time was to sing with Naomi Waelha. Kalortah sang one of his lesser heard songs in Lorien tongue. Most of the crowd had no idea what he was singing, but it was so beautifully rendered that some of them were moved to cheer and whistle at his performance.
Unfortunately for Waelha, she wasn’t able to entertain as well without the aid of a musical instrument. She got applause, sure enough, singing a old standby about a widow waiting for her husband’s ship to come into harbor. Something rather cliche and typical of the Scalveens. But it hardly inspired the imagination of the public like Kalortah’s Lorien Dirge did.
Kalortah took a bow as the cheers and applause for him outweighed Naomi’s. Kalortah ended up blowing her a kiss, though, and winking. She blushed, and stomped off stage, not keen on enduring his mockery.
Later, as the evening approached and the final round with it, Kalortah was waiting for Zana to arrive at the winner’s circle. To his surprise, he found that it was Tilda, not Zana, that would be his opponent.
That was impossible, did Adoro fail!
”Hello sweetie.” Tilda purred at Kalortah, ”So Zana couldn’t even open her pipes to sing. Some kind of illness or else stage fright must’ve gotten to her. Why, she could barely let off a squeak before the crowd booed her off the stage!”
Tilda stared at him frankly for a moment, as he stood stunned. ”You know, I have a favorite man that I’m sure will really enjoy the sword that’s up for the winner of the final round. I’m sure he’ll pay me a pretty purse for it too!”
So saying, the announcer came onto the stage, and held both of their hands, raising them high in the air as the crowd greeted the finalists of the singing tournament. ”Here we have Kalortah Satravial, and Tilda Klein. I wonder who will win out of the both of them?”
Kalortah stared out into the crowd, as Tilda easily endured their cheers and catcalls. This wasn’t going to be as simple as Kalortah imagined, was it?
