Kivaira Cayosinmiirik Kitril D’ Lyrandar brushed out her long copper colored hair and pinned it up allowing tendrils to frame her face.  She picked up the black velvet choker with an emerald the exact shade of her eyes, the storm mark of House Lyrandar etched on it, and fastened it around her slim neck.  Slipping a matching green velvet cloak over her gown, she checked herself in the mirror, ignoring the bustle and chatter of the other performers around her.  She always needed this last minute of meditation before going on stage.  It was a long way from telling stories to patrons of the tavern back home in Lyrandar where she had been the indulged youngest child of an important family.  Here, at Gailan’s in the the Torchfire District in Lower Menthis, she was just another young bard trying to make a name for herself among Sharn’s entertainers.<br/><br/>Many of those resented her, thinking that she had gotten her position due to her contacts through her House, but most had to admit that she could entertain a crowd as well, if not better than most.  The crowds that packed Gailan’s loved her, a house marked bard who knew all the old tales and could tell them with flair.  When she was performing, she became the heroes and heroines, the villains and monsters she chronicled.  It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful as well, though hers was a natural and graceful beauty not often found in the Torchfire’s theatrical district.   Her tales had not been heard there in a long time as well.   Many places in the Torchfire were only one step up from burlesque and Kivaira had some eye-opening experiences visiting the other taverns and theatres in the area.  Gailan’s was different.<br/><br/>For years, Gailan’s had recognized the up-and-coming musicians, actors and other performers in Sharn.  It was a testament to the owner’s eye that he had accepted Kivaira, though it was true that her someone in the House of Lyrandar had arranged the audition.  Her House connection wouldn’t have made one whit of difference if she hadn’t had true talent and been able to hold her own onstage.  She had already begun to receive offers from a few of the establishments in the Middle City, including the Classic Theatre.  If she were to stay a performer here in Sharn, she was well on her way to success.  The problem was that she had come to Sharn to learn more of the world and more tales, but these were old tales, oft told.  She hungered for new tales and those weren’t going to found in the Classic or the Upper city.  They weren’t going to be found performing night after night at Gailan’s either.  She wanted adventure, but wasn’t exactly sure how to get to it.  So, she performed each night and spent her days walking the city and haunting the guildhall for a chance to do more.<br/><br/>Checking herself in the mirror, she rose and crossed to the wings, waiting for the cue to step onstage with the tale she always began with.  Her version of Lyria and the Dragon was a crowd favorite and many could swear that as she told it the maiden Lyria came alive before their eyes, and some said they could hear the flap of dragon wings as she spoke of the great red dragon who plucked her away an eye blink before the arrow would have pierced her heart.  Kivaira had learned the bones of the tale as a toddler and has studied long and hard to find every detail and every version she could.  Then she had made it her own, breathing new life into the tale.<br/>