Minstrel Ingrandor

Just as soon after Hellrien left Ingrandor turned the hair down to cover the left side of his face as if she punched him and waited for some moments. When the woman disappeared from sight he wandered the stalls once more but this time with a purpose, instead of rummaging through crates to play the minstrel. Now it was time to be a real minstrel and make something out of it... Luckily one of the merchants had a set of strings which the Gondorian bought for quite a hefty price to replace the one he broke when trying to contact Hellrien. He bought if from the grinning merchant, one of the many in front of whom him and Hellrien exchange insults in their fine play in order to manage to get out of sight without rousing suspicions and made his way to one of the houses that were still destroyed. He found some soot and smeared it over his left eye and made his way to the inn.
Luckily for him it didn't take too long to bargain for it. The owner of t he inn agreed for a price but Ingrandor being magnanimous and generous told him that he'd let him keep forty percent of the earnings since lodging and meals would be free. True to his word he start playing at once for the few patrons. Being early in the morning he started with something slow and calm and went on with three or four calm songs after which he played something faster and then slow again before taking a break. While playing he saw simple men and a working woman who was entertaining her favourite as it seemed client by climbing on his lap and pinching his cheeks before they retreated upstairs. Soon a man came from breakfast who caught Ingrandor's eye but he kept playing and as soon as the man left the minstrel felt the urge to compose a ballad!
-Can I have some parchment and ink and a quill? I will take a small break to write a ballad.
The innkeeper said nothing, he gave him the things and went about his business. Ingrandor reached the furthest table where he wrote the description of the man tand made a rough sketch of him that was far from what the man actually looks like. He put the notes away and then scribbled some notes on the other half of the parchment that left to make it look like he was actually composing something. Then he went on playing for the day which passed uneventfully.
The second day came and Ingrandor started playing later as the innkeeper told him that there was no need to be playing before noon. Instead he could help around with this and that, mostly carrying barrels or tankards for washing or clean for using, to and fro the counter. There was some satisfaction for Ingrandor doing such a thing, a completely honest job without thinking of tomorrow and what will it bring. But the soldier in him kept his senses sharp and he kept an eye out for the man from the previous day or for any other that clearly was a stranger. There were no strangers but a local... 
She had clever chestnut eyes and hair of the same colour reaching slightly below her shoulders, delicate ears and nose, skin that looked so soft that every time he looked at her neck his breath was cut and her dark red lips made him swear that if he'd manage to kiss her he'd get drunk at once. Her breast was perfect and it seemed to him to fit perfectly in his hand and the rest of her body was slim but with the perfect curves, those that everyone would love to hold in his arms. She was also very intelligent and serious. The combination of all these things convinced Ingrandor that the neighbour's daughter, Shelly, was made of love, someone has managed to take love and shaped it into her.
She was working at the inn three times a day as the cook and after seeing her he Ingrandor was trying to find out what those days were exactly, but it being his second day only it was hard. He kept taking the tankards to the kitchen all the time, even if it was one, or one single dirty plate, making the owner of the inn nod to himself impressed at how hard Ingrandor worked. And he did work hard, despite the fact that he spent half the day going in and out of the kitchen to see and try to find something to talk to Shelly about he did his best around the inn and when the time to play came he outdid himself. He started with a fast song to raise the spirits before going into a medium paced one that was oriented around hard chords with emphasis on the timing and then went into a slow one where the patrons started singing their own makeshift lyrics taking turns, only to go into a fast-paced one and manage to make the woman from early get on the table and dance for her favourite customer, only to be carried upstairs in his arms. Ingrandor played and all the while he kept his eyes open for any signs of the strange man or any others.
All the commotion seemed to have some effect as the man did come down from his room, he sat not too far, not too close to the other patrons and watched. Ingrandor guessed that he didn't want to draw any attention, even though no one would notice someone sitting alone. He stayed there for three songs and then went upstairs again, Ingrandor kept watching him until he disappeared, turning left in the corridor and going up the stairs.
At the end of the night the patrons were exhausted but they left with a wide grin and the innkeeper's inn was wider as he made a lot of coins, three or four times more than usually. He bid Ingrandor goodnight and retreated to his rooms, so did Ingrandor, having enjoyed his second night there. The next day was boring, Shelly wasn't working but the man came down twice to eat and drink.