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BLONDIN (A harpist very apt to his trade, he at once notices the two women who join the crowd. Both blonde and beautiful, that would be reason enough to notice them. But, one slight and lovely in a slyphlike way, with a scar on her cheek, whose glance darted back and forth anxiously between himself and the taller woman. This one was an impressive figure indeed, at least six feet tall, wearing armor that even in the dim tavern glowed with a pinkish cast. Her eyes, at least, were fixed on his face, and the full mouth was set in a scowl. Her whitish-blonde hair was cut short and looked unkempt, in contrast to her companion's carefully-maintained waves of honey-colored hair. He sensed that she was only waiting for him to finish his song, so he strung it out in a few more arpeggios. Let her stew a bit. There was a song in this, or he was no bard.)
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