Alayna gravitated towards the dressmakers. She was seeking another tight little dress that would be more silvery green and shorter than her current one. That way, she could do more tricks with the clothing not getting in the way. She also wanted a green one that could look like it had wings on the back. A girl couldn't have too many costumes, could she?

Nwofia Barandi explores roof tops, Alayna explores dress shops...

Cambete, like many small towns, is very compact, the better to protect it behind walls.  Over the past century the walls actually contracted, being torn down and rebuilt (shoddily, not like the good old days when the best Dwarven engineers were hired to design and build fortifications.)  But they were rebuilt because protecting a smaller area was easier.  The whole town can be easily observed from the walls, and only a few roofs poke higher.  Up on the roofs, Nwofia realizes, is actually more exposed, instead of less, from the point of view of the guards on the walls.

The town also has a state of the art security alarm system, one that has served through generations, far more sensitive and alert than any Human, Orcish, or even Elven guards could be.  Dogs.  Many people have them, and noises on rooftops that might go unnoticed by Humans set them barking.

Nwofia quickly discovers that in a small place like Cambete the roofs are not the place to be.  To make it even worse, some of the recent roof repairs are very questionable.  So if she wants shadows, she must use the little alleys and passages between buildings.

With the dogs barking in the background at the phantom roof crosser, Alayna talks to dress makers.

The sort of thing she is asking for is a very unusual request, here.  They don't have many people who want to look "exotic" or can afford it.  Those who do will take their business either to one of the big cities like Vesontio to the west, or to the Black Forest Elves to the east.  Exotic things only come into town with traders.

(Alayna might recall that the black forest elves are the next stop)

But traders pass often, this is the link between the Rhine and all of Burgundy, and the dress makers here do have some things they've picked up over time, waiting for the right customers.

They can make what Alayna wants- nothing like that is hanging on a rack!  But, they admit, probably others elsewhere can make it better.  But they can make a decent green dress with wings.

Just to be clear, one old woman warns, "Not real wings of course.  They won't flap.  But we can do a trim of real feathers.  Nothing magic.  We're not Elves."

Nwofia soon gathers that Cambete is not the sort of place to explore from above, so she moves down to ground level and walks around the town as she had before, but this time she checks out all of the short cuts, the alleyways, the hidey holes the middens (although she doesn't actually enter a midden, she doesn't want to smell like one).  She hadn't realised there were so many dogs.  She makes a note to ask Alayna about dogs some time.  She's never been that good with dogs, except if the dogs are properly cooked of course.

Alayna smiled. "I know they won't be real wings, they don't hafta be. Its all for show. Besides, what girl wouldn't want real ones? 'Sides, when I backflip off my horse, people will think I flew anyway!"

She knows it could be better made elsewhere, but she wants it now. And it gets her mind of the whole pretending to be a god think that had been freaking her out.

(look, a montage scene!)

Lindon had a difficult discussion with Gnashrip, but found that he really couldn't get the Orc to commit to actually helping.  After all, Gnashrip is fully aware that he would look better if the performers don't impress his chieftain.  Orcs may be crude, rude, and violent, but generations of power struggles, often lethal power struggles, have made them quite cunning when the issue was political.

Lindon has gained little.  But he has learned a few things about what Orcs like to see in shows- they like to be impressed.  Not with magic, though.  "Elven trickery" is not the way to get on their good side.

**** *****

Alayna has begun the process of making her custom outfit.  Things like this do not just hang on racks waiting for someone to want to buy one (not many things do, and nothing fancy!).  It must be made.  Materials and accessories must be picked out.  Fortunately, as a town through which traders pass going to and fro distant destinations, odds and ends tend to accumulate here.  Traders will often pay with a bit of some exotic commodity in lieu of coin.  There is some silvery green meshy fabric, and goose feathers, and there are sticks cut from antlers that can be shaped into supports for the wings.  And after all this is picked out, there is the measuring.  And then the work begins.   This will take all the next day.  Cutting, sewing, fitting, checking, redoing.

So, Alayna has the rest of her evening pretty blocked out, and will be back later that evening, with the dress having started production.

*** ***

Nofia does a patrol through the little town.  It is much as one might expect it to be.  Small town, close and cluttered, alongside a bridge.  Only the presence of the Orcs marks it as different, and they stay in their own areas at night- mostly along the wall, and the fortification at the bridge that is the home of Pugnant.  As the rest of the town turns in for the night, activity slows down and stops, except for the night watch, which is half Orc.  The only unusual thing this evening is Nofia herself.


**** ***** *****

And back at the camp, Phileas paces, going over things with Hylensia.

"Still nothing set for the show tomorrow?" Hylensia asked.

Phileas shook his head.  "And Lindon has gone off to talk to that Orc.  What would they talk about?  What kind of horrid barbaric trash does an Orc want to see?  You know what Orc stories are like.  Violent, angry, all focused on strength and power.  Are we going to perform one of those?  Seriously, do they expect us to do My Axe is Bigger than Your Axe?"

"That one was a traditional Ogres performance, not Orcs, dear." Hylensia replied.

"Yes, the only comedy which is entirely ad libbed and yet entirely predictable at the same time," Phileas grumbled.  "Orcish theater is better only barely.  No.  It's a bad idea.  We shall not stoop them, we must elevate them to us."


***** ***** *****

In the morning, as everyone slowly and with varying degrees of grogginess gets up for breakfast, Phileas has an announcement.

"The more I have thought about it the more clear it is," he says.  "If we are going to impress Orcs, it cannot be through their stories and their ways.  We, trying to be them, will only look silly.  It will come off as cheap parody at best.  We must be us.  We must do our things, and we must do them well enough to pierce even Orcish hearts.  They must like us being us.  When we are done, we must leave them astonished and applauding things they have never imagined, not things of their own culture we are trying to copy for them."

A heavy wizard book thuds onto the table behind them. "That is very good to hear, Phileas. For try as I might, I cannot be not me." Og grins at his old friends.

"I apologize for my unexplained absence. There will be plenty of excuses to come, but for now we have a show to prepare for and very little time. How may I make it up to you?" He says to all and bows graciously.

Nwofia thinks about the show to come and nods... "So what impresses an orc?" she asks and quickly answers her own question, "No stories no pretty dances but the martial arts.  What can each of us do to seem like a killing machine on legs?"

She lets an imaginary tap drip but jumps in to answer her own question before that single drip is followed by its sister drop. "In my case," she says, "I dress as close to apparently naked as possible and still be able to hide knives about my person.  I begin by climbing up to a narrow ledge, just above orc-height, performing a fairly simple tumbling act on the ledge followed by walking a tightrope and as I move along the rope, I seem to fall but while catching my breath, the knives appear as if by magic (it's not magic, I promise) and I throw them at an elf-shaped target, before jumping down next to my quarterstaff, which I pick up and then walk over to the target and reclaim the knives. How about that?"

Alayna sighed. She had shown to the meeting in a black bodysuit, not even trying to be ladylike today. The suit hugged what very few curves she had, showing what a skinny teenager she was. Her hair hung unbraided around her shoulders and the slight persperation from her morning working walkout showing on her forehead. She listened to her employers, smiled a bit with Og's comments, then bit her lip with Nwofia's suggestions.

"I... I really don't know what I can do. Unless..." She tapped her finger on her leg. "What if I'm the target?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:17, Mon 13 May 2019.

Tahra attempt to make her contribution. I could do playacting magic attempts, spells that go comically wrong. Not me alone on stage, at least sometimes, but spells that have you guys involved in the effects.

Nwofia considers for a moment then asks Tahra, "Does your magic include illusions?  Apparent fountains of blood perhaps, or fire?  The sort of things that impresses or better yet secretly scares orcs?"  Then to Alayna she says, "Hmm, how do orcs feel about people returning from the dead?"

Tahra purses her lips. I can animate rope and quote try unquote to have it do something but is winds up wrapping around me and I roll on the stage squawking ans squeaking. Other than that...some of what I can do...you wouldn't want to be done to you.

By the way, do we have a chicken or mouse costume?

Og kept quiet, waiting for Phileas to acknowledge him, forgive him, or tell him to get out. He had not told the others why he left, but Phileas knew. Though Og decided to be the better man and come back after their disagreement, he wasn't happy that they were still attempting to appeal to orc.

Alyana looked at Nwofia. "I am thinking, not so much?" she said doubtfully. "Now if the elf girl died, and and then turn into an orc to kill her, that might be cool, but I'm not that kind of illusionist. I think if I attack you, then you force me back to 'kill' me, that might be the fighter beating the magical elf. All better?"

“Mister Worman,” Phileas says, “You are more important than you think.  Orcs value strength.  It is the one of the few things they do value.  They respect it and value it, even when it does not come from an Orc.  You can reach them on a level most others can’t.  But, you can also use that to take them beyond their usual limits.  You are a doorway between their thinking and ours, you might say.  Hook them, and make them follow you.”


“If we fail, then at least we failed as ourselves, staying true to ourselves.  Grace, skill, wonder- let us show these to our audience.”

Hylensia had gone to see Pugnant in the morning, making final arrangements.  The show would not be performed in Pugnant’s hall.  That was impossible, she explained.  It was simply too small.  The stage was needed, and the stage was set up in the market forum and could not be moved.

With slight reluctance, the Orcs agreed.  Hylensia understood.  Orcs were always more comfortable indoors than out.  They preferred close in, crowded places.  A relic of their subterranean ancestry, perhaps.  The bright sky and the sun was uncomfortable for them.  To make them feel more at ease Hylensia directed the construction of a makeshift canopy over the area from which the Orcs would watch the show- front and center.  Yes, it obscured the view from behind it… but the people of Cambete were very adaptable, and very quickly, wagons and carts, some with tables and benches mounted on them, appeared behind the covered “Orc seats”.

Tahra examines the chests of “stock costumes” they have on hand, looking for chickens and mice.

The stock includes a range of things that are useful in typical stories, including children’s stories, and very fortunately, chickens and mice appear in children’s stories.  On the other hand, they must travel, and they can’t bring everything everyone might need.  So the Argentos’s rely on the fact that children have imaginative, inventive minds.  The chicken and mouse costumes are partial- mass and tails and big feet to wear, enough to give children (and, when necessary, adults) the impression that “I am a Mouse.”

"Sure. And how did that strength show play out last night? No, I have a better idea. Let's call out their biggest and best and play some games. Bed of nails. Flaming coals. Breaking ice. Fire."

Fire was his favorite game. If things went right, the fire would behave itself and stay put and they'd have a fun show. If anything went wrong maybe he could burn the village down.

"Orcs are always eager to replace their alphas. A little bit of ridicule and trickery and flame will help it along. Plus! I see that this will definitely lead to an encore, when they try to challenge me again, but then we save that for tomorrow's show and have an even bigger audience."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:23, Tue 14 May 2019.

Celeste Argentos, eldest daughter of the Argentoses and often the troupe's Voice of Reason... not a popular thing to be among most performers... places a hand on Og's shoulder.  She is tall enough to do it without too much difficulty.

"It is not the leader we want to see disrespected," she says.  "I believe we do not wish to disrespect any of them.  Pugnant wishes to cooperate with Humankind.  Gnashrip finds his Orcish honor challenged by this.  We must impress Pugnant but without.. what is the phrase... laying it on "too thick".  That could turn on us.  He must honestly see that he is welcome and his Orcs have a home in cooperation.  Gnashrip, on the other hand... that's more difficult.  If he can be reached in the same way that is excellent.  If not, we do not want him antagonized to the point where he turns violent.  Not by us, at least.  I don't think it would be helpful if Orcs see us antagonize or disrespect other Orcs.  Even Orcs with whom they disagree."

She gives an optimistic smile- it seems forced, her eyes don't carry the same light.  "Did you think the career of an entertainer involved Orcish politics?  It involves all sorts of crazy things.  This is easier than many."

Og gazes out from behind his mask at Celeste's manicured finger nails and follows them down her hand, wrist and arm to her shoulder, neck, and finally soft smile. He recognizes that she is not smiling at him, but accepts it for what it is.

"Oh I had no doubt we would soon be using our reputation to influence politics. It is in our nature. I suppose I just had to hear from you, Masters, as to what our company's political affiliations are. I must have missed the meeting about 'helping' the orcs to fit in. I will help you how I can, but I'm afraid you'll have to tell me what that looks like...my ideas...you would never find me offering any intellect to aid an orc."

Tahra speaks up. What do you want, Og? Before you speak, you might as well know that I plan to repeat what you say except with your name in place of any person you refer to.

Nwofia smiles, "In this respect, Orcs are exactly like the Garamantes:  violence comes naturally to them but they can cooperate because they have much in common with humans.  More than either side would be ready to admit."  Her smile widens and brightens, the happy smile of a happy leopard.

Og sighed and looked momentarily into Tahra's eyes, allowing her to read his soul.

What he wanted, was to fit in. What he needed, was a family again, to move on from the past, to forgive: orcs, and himself. This was not his first traveling show, not the first time a woman tried to get past the mask, but that always ended horribly for him. He turned away and feigned a laugh.

"I want a good show, and of course to make lots of money." He grinned to his "family" but then turned to his employer with a puzzled look. "And just how much money do you expect them to part with on our behalf?" He asked Phileas, concerned that this show could be a waste of time.

Alayna watched, with all the attention that a teen could muster. She didn't know about politics, except where it touched the poor. "Maybe what we do is to show how working with the humans is good, but it does not mean weakness? So maybe a show where orcs are strong while humans support them? So Pugnant is shown to be strong, but so are all orcs? And humans are shown, while weaker, have better skills to help orcs be stronger?"

She is really not sure what Og Worman means, but she understands, maybe more than others, the question of 'so what does it mean for me?'
This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Mon 20 May 2019.

"Og has a point", suggested Nwofia.  "I do wonder how much profit there may be in this venture."

Tahra observes Og and holds her tongue. She does follow up on Alayna's comments. I'd hope no type stronger or weaker but alike in some ways different in others...mortals all, trying to do the best we can.

Phileas smiles at Og.

"Money?  This has already been paid for.. the lords of Burgundy have paid us to do three shows, on their behalf, here in the town of Cambete.  To demonstrate to the locals the grandeur and generosity of Burgundian rule, which, I might point out, is only recently and apparently quite delicately extended to Cambete.

"Entertain the residents of Cambete," we agreed.  "I think the Orcs are legitimate residents, yes?  And so, if this serves two purposes, the fulfillment of our terms with Burgundy, and the resolution of this business with Pugnant and Gnashrip, so much the better.  We have already been paid.  Indeed, it is our next stop which will be more challenging, from that perspective.  The Elves of the Black Forest.  It's not that the Schwarzwald Elves are stingy, it's just that economically, they are not very advanced, and barter is more common among them is coin.  I am curious as to what we can obtain from them in return for entertainment. But that is another day."

"Alayna and Tahra's ideas are where we should be taking this.  Respect Orcish strength, but respect more the strength of unity with the Human population here.   And of course, bedazzle them.  Make them actually enjoy this.  So much so that they want us back, performing again, with Orcs and Humans in the audience.  We need this to be... wondrous.  To pierce even Orc hearts."

Nwofia nods, lowering her head in a formal bow.  "In that case, Tahra and Alayna, perhaps you could suggest how we might entertain orcs.  I'm afraid that I do not speak even one word of orcish and thus find it difficult to understand, and so to entertain them.  Perhaps some acrobatics mixed with rope walking and sleight of hand?  I'll leave out the weapons."