Anton Ramondu<br/>Status: normal<br/><br/>Anton spent the evening in his tavern, closeted in his quarters, fiddling with his lute and in general ensuring himself that his supplies were in order. Then he cleared his mind, ensuring that he had stripped away the last vestiges of the many characters he had played, thus ensuring his dreams were his own.<br/><br/>The next day he dressed appropriately, or rather, his attire changed upon command. His shiftweave clothing assuming one of the five styles he had designed into it, a long black coat, sapphire blue silk shirt with white lace upon the cuffs, and black trousers and knee high boots. Upon his head he again donned his black bolero, making certain it still looked the same as it had last night, and then slid on his choice of mask for the day. Made from rose porphyry, a white stone, it appears to be a bearded male with his mouth held open in song. In place of eyes, the slits are carved runes. It was the mask of the High priest character. Anyone assessing his alignment this morning who had done so the prior night, would note he was no longer lawful, but was still good.<br/><br/>As he strode into the city watch HQ he nodded solemnly to his compatriots, moving at a measured, stately pace. His body held upright, his head bowed slightly, his hands clasped in a sedate manner before him as he moved to find a seat. Once he had found it, he recalled some of his companions found his mask offsetting when they were preparing for the tasks ahead, so he raised a hand and slid the mask off his face, and into his pocket. His posture again transforming, the staid, stuffy priest left behind, as the rakish wanderer took his place. When Wren laid out her rules, he gave a wide smile.<br/><br/>"I've always found a little danger added to the zest of a challenge such as that. And the prize does seem worth a bit of risk." Anton remarked with a wink and a playful grin. "I'm ready to brave the darkness, I just wish these things didn't have such a tendency to live in sewers and other stench filled locations. Why can't we just once, find a den of evil in the lavender scented bower of a brothel?"<br/><br/>As he quipped he pulled out his lute and began to idly strum upon it. The lute was carved of a rich wood, it's surface decorated with brass bands laid out in abstract designs. It was obviously of masterful craftsmanship, and those of mystic origins may detect the reek of enchantment upon his instrument. His fingers danced upon the strings, laying out a stirring little melody before falling back to a cascade of notes meant to resemble laughter.<br/><br/>((OOC:Didn't know if you wanted a roll for just idle lute playing, but even with a 1 he'd have a 14 perform check so I figured that sort of thing was the kind of playing he can do in his sleep.))