”I can see why this place is popular,” Olven says, leaning on his spear and enjoying watching the woman dance. Her graceful steps fascinate Wolf. ”Buy her a blanket and you’d ruin the view, Roisin. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Belly dancing, you say, Alvin? That seems to be a very appropriate name for it. She seems very good.”

He glances around the room, the silver, the rich furnishings. ”No, I liked the other place better, other than the dancer here. This place feels too rich for my tastes. Give me an honest tankard of ale and a rare mutton chop over this hoity-toity display any day of the week.” He shakes his head. ”Let’s not linger here long.”

"Yes, belly dancing," Alvin said. "Khurish entertainment. And she is very good. I spent some time there, but I'm only a pale imitation compared to her. Probably good enough to earn us some money at the other place, but I'm a better singer. Though not as good as D'aden."

Her beautiful and melodious voice was a sign that she very well could be telling the truth about that, if she had enough training.

Rufus burst out from the kitchen and hurried towards you, while still trying to avoid stepping between his guests and the entertainment.

"You changed your mind," Rufus said and Roisin translated. It wasn't a question. "Excellent. How long will you be staying?"

D'aden shrugs. As he continues to desultorily plunk out an uneven accompaniment to the music, he says, "we are free as the wind, clear as the fog, and not liable to change our mind till we've, at least, made it up... once or twice. But while we are here it only seems appropriate to pull our own weight, even if we pull by plucking."

"Good, Good," Rufus said. "Can you have something prepared for when she takes her break and entertain our guests for an hour or two?"

D'aden nods, "[Language unknown: K virticwit nomonc enlo'diuris m estlatain ulwhth?]... um.. yes, I can be ready."
"Could you assist my friends for me? They don't have the local currency but could use something to wash the road dust from their throats."
Stepping quietly to one side, he begins to tune his instrument. Occasionally he glances at the dancer, but his only interest appears to be deciding when she's finished.

"Of course, of course," Rufus said, gave them a table, and sent a barmaid to get their orders. A petite female in her early 20s with long, luxurious, raven black hair.

Olven takes a seat and lounges back, casually watching the rest of the room. ”We’re wasting our time,” he grumbles. ”We should be heading out to the palace, or at least look for it, instead of lollygagging in taverns. At least the view is good.” He continues to watch the dancer with interest.

When the lass with the lovely tresses comes to take their order, Olven requests a glass of wine.

You get what you ordered and soon the dancer comes to a break in her routine. The crowd applauded and some of them threw coins up on the stage, which the troop quickly picked up. When they had cleared the area, Rufus steps up.

"It is now our honor to witness a unique performance of the Foreign Virtuoso," Rufus said. Looking straight at D'aden and applauding, joined by applauds from the crowd.

D'aden smiles, and steps to the stage area. As he begins to pluck a familiar tune from his instrument, he says, "I think it's great that we can enjoy the world's diversity without condemnation."
Then he begins to sing:
[Language unknown: Ulcapo ivsa onsonshasstioul wh mo ch ilunus ic
Ut ure it icplri er ulil, Pe outlinenc hasiveeenovemen
Einde essnd ive io she asaces et ul hasthoble pa ardentnde ngent,
Wereauore, daysanone, inatac, ichughore whre-iliodi
Oulec ro wer ai an herthuhis ul iouwitver p nc witvenard ma a lin,
Lo po saul prndnd metr reaevestr tha, tio artpreear thoundhis ommill
El es ulsaas eechinic resalllat, pr outinttho oul viralltho m ieropa
Nall atisee andmanugh riwi eciear si oerble'nceing, andverwit redrom'undwitica!
Chstel wilwasers ratoveess k nale ounicarut illousast has wa
Itarit aiiesa seckil unal italis conwhihouive urelan
Leslindin roee sallch atic mipono allac fi
Toomin ousearwilart acaies ndwa stoudiul
Hatessset, rattinear, onsredcom, erriol oninha-urth.]

Although it wasn't maginificent, it WAS a fairly competent performance.
OOC: 13:26, Today: D'aden Tor VIII rolled 8,12,15,13 using 3d6,3d6,3d6,3d6.  Musical Composition 12, Mandolin 12, Singing 15, Performance 13.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Sat 18 May 2019.

D'aden performed for about an hour and a half or so. The guests obviously liked his performance, which they indicated with cheers and applauds. And at the end of his performance, with coins thrown up on the platform. Without knowing how much the coins were worth, it was difficult to determine how much he had made, but it seemed to be more than a competent performance would normally have made him. And Rufus had promised dinner, breakfast, and lodgings for the group on top of that.

Roisin grimaced as D'aden rejoined them at the table. "I mean....honestly, I think I might have done a little better. By your standards that was...perfectly mediocre."

D'aden squints at Roisin, "now that's just not true. I think I would have known if either of my parents had any ogre blood, and especially if they had a medium amount."
"Still, we have some coins, now. Where should we look, next.?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:09, Tue 18 June 2019.

Roisin raised an eyebrow "Why, I think it might be perfectly obvious to all where you're looking." she said as Ochre shifted on her shoulder to look at the dancer. She sniggered "Yes, I agree"

"Unless Tiichi knows," Alvin started. "I would agree that the dancer would likely be our best option to find out where we need to go."

D'aden nods, somewhat thoughtfully. "Then I suppose the first issue will be to discover some way to communicate with her. To be honest, I hope it involves speaking. I've been considering it and I'm quite certain my legs aren't attached to the rest of me in a way that would permit moving in that fashion."
"I know they say dancing is a language all its own, but I'm definitely not fluent."

Roisin rolled her eyes. "I find it rather droll that for you being an entertainer and one that needs to communicate to have your message be passed on, you have a poor understanding of modern languages." She looked towards the dancer. "I'm pretty sure the application of currency might resolve any issues you may have in translation"

With a half smile, D'aden merely says, "[Language unknown: mallil deraveionant witlatave en me eauevewer at miee cheval la]."
"Besides, we've no idea what languages are known by those we wish to communicate with. That just makes it a bit more... touchy, and takes a bit more effort."
"Some of us don't have the even features and alluring smile that persuades others to efforts at understanding us; we have to work at it from the other side of the coin. But I would be terribly surprised to hear that you know what that's like."

Olven snorts in derision and stands up. ”I’ll be honest, I’d be more than happy to stay in this tavern and watch each and every performance that lovely dancer puts on, but we need to get a move on.” He smoothes down his shirt and adjusts his ruffles. ”Allow me.”

Walking over to the dancer, Olven bows with his hand at his heart and says, ”Madam, your dancing was simply divine. Would you do my friends and me the honor of your presence at our table?”

16:07, Today: Secret Roll: Olven Wolf rolled 7 using 3d6.  Savior-faire nobility + all Wolf’s +/- modifiers.

Roisin translated for Olven and the dancer joined the heroes at their table.

"Thank you," she said to Olven's praise. She then praised D'aden in return.

As Olven Wolf takes a seat at the table, he grins at the praise the dancer gives to D’aden. ”D’aden, looks like your art is appreciated here. Music is a universal language, apparently.

Turning to the dancer, Wolf says, “My friends and I are travelers, and we’ve heard of the ruins of a palace of dragon monarchs. Are you familiar with it? We’d like to visit it.”

"It's about 20 miles away," she said and pointed. "In that direction. There are a number of monster groups in the mountains and there is movement and conflict among them right now."

D'aden looks thoughtful, and asks, "in what way are these groups monstrous? Would they be an edible form of monster?"

Olven Wolf cocks an eyebrow. ”Conflict, eh? We might be able to use that to our advantage.” Olven’s nascent strategic mind goes into gear.

He grunts at D’aden’a question. ”What, like lions and tigers and bears? Somehow I doubt it.” To the dancer, he asks, ”Which groups do you know of? Do you know approximately how many of each there are?” Perhaps they could pit one group against another, make allies, bring some order to the strife.

"Oh my," the dancer exclaimed. "Nothing simple like that." She looked at Tiichi out of the corner of her eye. "There are ogres, minotaurs, bear folk," looking at Tiichi again out of the corner of her eye, "lizard folk, Teremere, wights, corpse-eaters, and a few trolls." She shivered. When I think about them, I hear lofty pines on Misty Mountain."