Shamil.
Most didn't know her too well. She wasn't exactly made very known before her death though either. The only thing most knew her for was....him.
But that would change. This Bristle Crios place, in all its splendor, was the perfect opportunity for her. So it started that everyday, when the clock hands struck 9 AM around RhyDin, Shamil played a sad tune. It was one that evolved and grew the more she played it. Never having been very creative about her music, this was her masterpiece.
There were no words in this song, just an out of tune lute playing a slow, sad piece. It started soft so as to not wake others, and then around noon it picks up in volume, echoing across the Demon House and a little beyond. For ten minutes out of the hour she would stop and make adjustments, and then continue to let the piece flow from her soul, which was really all she had left.
She had already let the world know her story when she had been with that horrible reptilian fool, and now she did not have any intention of retelling it. She'd tell it on a personal basis, but all people needed to know now was her music, turned to a more depressing note upon her death at the hands of demons.
The song she played was continued until 11 PM out of courtesy for anyone within earshot who was trying to sleep, but no sooner. She needed people to hear, and to know. She may have gone largely unnoticed in life, but in death she would not tolerate being ignored.
Most didn't know her too well. She wasn't exactly made very known before her death though either. The only thing most knew her for was....him.
But that would change. This Bristle Crios place, in all its splendor, was the perfect opportunity for her. So it started that everyday, when the clock hands struck 9 AM around RhyDin, Shamil played a sad tune. It was one that evolved and grew the more she played it. Never having been very creative about her music, this was her masterpiece.
There were no words in this song, just an out of tune lute playing a slow, sad piece. It started soft so as to not wake others, and then around noon it picks up in volume, echoing across the Demon House and a little beyond. For ten minutes out of the hour she would stop and make adjustments, and then continue to let the piece flow from her soul, which was really all she had left.
She had already let the world know her story when she had been with that horrible reptilian fool, and now she did not have any intention of retelling it. She'd tell it on a personal basis, but all people needed to know now was her music, turned to a more depressing note upon her death at the hands of demons.
The song she played was continued until 11 PM out of courtesy for anyone within earshot who was trying to sleep, but no sooner. She needed people to hear, and to know. She may have gone largely unnoticed in life, but in death she would not tolerate being ignored.