17th Ches, 1360 DR (5042 OC)
It had come to my attention that Kira, another of Lucille’s working girls, was upset that I was asked to paint the mural over the bar. Though I pose as the resident artist here, the title rightly belongs to her as she has lived here longer than I, and in fact, her work graces many of the walls here. I had not thought this would be a problem as she and I have spent an evening or four discussing the Great Masters. Indeed, we have quite different views regarding technique and we both have quite distinctive styles; hers strictly Renaissance. While I do study the period, as every novice artist should, I find myself “drawn,” if you will, to a more modernistic approach which she sees as a trifling fad. However, I have comforted her in the fact that I shall turn down Lucille’s offer. It is much too early in my career for a public debut of my young talent, tempted though I am. I am content, for now, to sell my small sketches to those few patrons who appreciate my particular style.
Earlier this evening I had the pleasure of watching the Masq’d Bard again. From what I have been able to glean from whisper and rumour here at the House, she has only recently taken up the performers mantle, but this seems incredible to me for her voice is most stirring. It is almost as if she can conjure with mere tone and inflection. Indeed, as she sang The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver I could see the scene so clear in my head it was as if had lived it myself. I became the poor boy of the song, suffering in my poverty and surviving simply on the love of my mother. As we all know, this is far from accurate, but still, there I was, watching as my mother wove for me with her song.
Let me tell you, I have tried more than a few strong opiates in my young life and none have ever caused me to lose sight of my own self in favor of pure fantasy. None have ever caused such vivid visions. Indeed, there is something about this mysterious femme-rouge that I cannot divine by myself. I did approach her after the performance to offer my most humble thanks and no few words of appreciation but this was met with a curt “Thank you, sir,” followed by her immediate departure. Honestly, I do love a challenge, but this borders on the impossible. So much the better!