Alayna clapped her hands, only just keeping her own arms from raising for the bat. She loved seeing Klimmin, and simply showed her joy for him.

The Dwarves know what bats are.  They don't keep them as pets, but they are familiar with them.  And as Tahra learns, not in a bad way.

"Now this is finer than a bird, for it is an Earth Dweller as our ancestors were," the Clan Lord says.  "They have found the sky and still they return to depths of the Earth.  Like us, one does not lose that calling so easily.  A good pet you have there!  Does the animal perform?  I am sure we would like to see it!"

There is applause from a few of the Dwarves.  Whether it indicates approval of the bat, or of the Clan Lord, is uncertain.

"You'll do a little something here, then?" the innkeeper asks.  "For us?"

A friend Tahra repeats. I've never asked him to perform in the way of doing tricks or such. I, myself, can sing somewhat, tell a tale, recite a poem, or share news. And I am as eager to listen as to utter. For example, what you have to say...share...should be known  by the wider world.

Something about Klimmen: When I sleep, should a bug come to feed on me, it finds out too late that it's food for him.

The approach Topaz has to life could not be more different than that of Dwarven folk, with their rules and structure.  It's certainly not anathema to him and not entirely foreign, but it's certainly not the manner in which he approaches the world.  He makes some guesses about their way of living, their social norms, and such.  Still, Dwarves can't be entirely stodgy.  They have taverns, after all!

While Tahra and others converse, he begins to play softly, weaving a thread of music into the dialog, a musical version of small talk.  He can sing, or dance, extemporize a poem or rousing speech, even play just about any instrument as if it's an extension of himself.  For now, though, he offers a light melody, plucked on a fiddle plainly meant to be bowed, as a complement and counterpoint to the discussions underway.

After all, life is better when there's background music.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Wed 05 May 2021.

Off to one side, leaning against a wall in the inn and keeping a watchful eye out, Siankiir's mouth quirked into a small smile at the sight of fuzzy little Klimmin.  Unconsciously, her foot tapped as Topaz played.

Entirely consciously Nwofia's foot tapped to Topaz' music, then her ankles moves with her feet, her legs and hips and indeed her whole body followed in a dance as soft and subtle as the shifting sands of the Great Sand Sea.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:30, Wed 05 May 2021.

The Faun plays, but doesn't really "perform".  He doesn't have an audience, only other people with whom he is having a conversation, only his part is offered musically.  In the beginning, he augments whomever is speaking, matching a tone to their words and intent.  Occasionally, he plays a counterpoint, adding unintended emphasis or teasing a tune from his fiddle that can make the speaker sound ironic, sarcastic, or even comical.  Throughout, however, Topaz never causes anyone to become the butt of the musical joke.

Given time, he'll even offer a soliloquy by way of a solo, a short tone poem composed in the moment on the last topic of discussion.  Each time, he moves the topic to another person and smoothly slips it into their hands as gently as if he'd asked them about their opinion.

The great thing about a fiddle is that it leaves him free to speak or to move about in way s that other instruments don't.  The Faun rises from his seat, reaches for his bow and continues as if the topic's never changed.  He steps across the space, hooves tapping as he moves.

"M'lady," he inquires in his mahogany rich baritone, bowing slightly to Siankiir, inviting her into a pas-de-deux.  Irrespective of her training or natural talents, she might somehow feel that in this particular moment, she can perform as well as any of the more practiced performers.  The music is just that encouraging.

Alayna had no reservations. The music started, and her foot began tapping, as she considered that the Dwarves had wanted to see what they could do. Well, there were things she could do, even without Angel.

She started moving, her lithe form finding the rhythm, making a simple dance out of the understated melody, slowly twirling, dipping and moving in the small space she had to work with. Then, she began tumbling, doing seductive rolls, then moving into stretches, splits, and other gymnastic moves, following the music, letting it guide her. Rising to her feet, she did a few dancing jumps, then a flip backwards. She winked at the faun, clearly happy and enjoying the moment.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:54, Fri 07 May 2021.

"Oh!"

There Siankiir was, keeping an eye on everyone on the outskirts of the inn's common room.  Nwofia and Alayna were dancing, nearly as graceful as nymphs.  Tahra was chatting merrily away with her sweet little bat and Topaz was fiddling.

And there was her, on the outside looking in.  Someone had to keep watch and stay alert...someone had to--

Topaz was asking her to dance.

Siankiir's violet eyes grew wide in surprise at the offer.  Her voice caught in her throat and suddenly she looked very shamed and unsure of herself indeed.  The elf's gaze suddenly went downcast

"...I--I can't, no..."  Siankiir rubbed her forearm reflexively.

The Faun focuses a moment, though he never ceases to play.  He conjures an exact duplicate of himself, another Topaz taking fading into being and at once taking up the tune.  They play a duet for short period of time before the illusory double sits in the very chair he'd stood from but a few moments before.

Setting his fiddle on the table, and the bow alongside it, he smiles warmly to Siankiir.  "Perhaps not, m'lady.  Alone is a difficult thing, but together all things may be accomplished."

His clothing shifts elegantly through a variety of changes until it's a near perfect complement to her own.  As the music drifts into a stately tune, another tone poem in paean to a pastoral life, Topaz smiles warmly, and entreats, again.  His eyes to hers as if all other things have ceased to exist, the Faun offers his most gracious courtier's bow and his hand for her own. "'Tis but a dance, lovely Lady Siankiir, with naught to fear nor regret in the doing.  Others will keep vigil.  Pray do me the pleasure of your hand and your regard for a few moments."

Siankiir allowed the faun to take her hand and lead her to the dance, despite her obvious discomfort and fear.  Gradually, the elf woman adapted to the rhythm, showing a little promise in how she moved.  Obviously, she wasn't as skilled as Alayna or Nwofia, but objectively, Siankiir had some grace of her own.  With training, the swordswoman could develop some talent in dance.

So, of course, that's when the voice of her mother had to butt in, hammering in that self-doubt.

("...a filthy half-breed and a human savage can dance better than you!  Even these idiot dwarves can see it...useless, absolutely USELESS!")

What might have been a smile in surprise suddenly turned to clouded uncertainty on Siankiir's face and she began to pull away...

Topaz is not currently reading minds nor enthralling an audience, so he can't know the particulars of Siankiir's concerns.  Yet, while he's no expert, he is well enough skilled to recognize the shadow of self-doubt which creeps over his partner's face.

Willing participation is so very different from acquiescence and the shift is easily apparently.  He's no satyr to drive madly ahead, heedless of the wishes of one's partner.  The Faun steps with Siankiir, releasing her easily should she truly desire to break the dance, but he does raise his hand and hers, encouraging her into a slow twirl, one then another, and a third in time to the music.

"They lie, you know," he murmurs to Siankiir just low enough that others mayn't easily overhear.  "The silent stories that we tell ourselves.  They tell us we can't do the thing that we're doing, right when we're doing it.  They say we'll fail or we'll fall, that others will judge us."

He smiles warmly, offering to take her on an easy promenade.  "The trick, m'lass, is to just persevere until you can look back on them from a remove and see what pale things they are.  But moments ago, you couldn't dance, but now you're in a pas-de-deux with the Fey."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:29, Sun 09 May 2021.

The trek to the dwarven fort was not so difficult on him, but his perception of difficulty was different then most others. Reality was a fickle thing and as one who walked as much in a world of fiction as he did in a world of reality. His perception of things gave him a perspective that stretched beyond the minor inconveniences.

he listened to the Innkeeper go on about colorful birds that talked. So when a natural break in the conversation appeared he manifested the illusion of one such bird. Waiting to see the reaction it drew before he caused the illusion to speak.

Alayna saw Siankir and Topaz dancing, and giggled with delight. Finally, the Elven girl was having fun! She laughed, throwing herself in a series of spins and almost falling, then allowing herself to fall, making a dramatic end to her dancing.

Catching her breath, she went to see what the dwarves thought, and to maybe get something to drink.

Nwofia watched to make sure she was there to catch Alayna should catching be needed and, once she was sure no such rescue was needed, she begins making use of all that she can find, whether trees, walls, hillocks or whatever to move the dance into the third dimension, appearing sometimes to dance in the air as well as on the ground.

Alyana grinned at Nwofia, seeing her look at her. Then, she paused to watch her. She felt a bit of jealousy, watching how she moved, how she danced. So easy, so free. She found herself mimicking the arm motions, the stretching of the legs.

She promised herself to talk to her and find her secrets. For herself, she began to dance again, and to try to be as free and confident as the other women.

Dwarves tend to be described as "dour", "taciturn", and "serious" folk, never bothering with the fanciful, carefree styles of the Elves, or even many Humans.  This is not really true- but it true that Dwarves are very purposeful.  They express emotions that to them, have a purpose, write songs that have a purpose, and build things with a purpose.

The latter can be very ornate and elaborate, but the Dwarves assume the purpose, in that case, is to showcase one's sculpting abilities.

Freeform artistic expression otherwise is nearly unknown to them.  Like the Innkeeper's experience with the Talking Bird, they can be impressed with it, but sometimes it leaves them wondering about purpose and intentions.

A few of the younger Dwarves (beards haven't begun to go gray yet) watch and whisper to themselves.

"I can't follow the story."

"I don't know if there is one.  Maybe it's symbolic."

"Oh, yes, I think so."

For the Clan Lord there is one thing of paramount importance here; that the performers not present messages that are lewd or accepting of unlawful behavior.  No tales of daring and charming robbers permitted among Dwarves, no matter how much the Humans seem to favor them!

But how to judge when there is no message at all?  He falls back on the "architecture example": if it is solely art, then the skills of the artist are what matter.

The Clan Lord nods.  "Nothing to be ashamed of here."

This is, of course, high praise.  At least as high as could be expected.  Some of the other Dwarves might have other reactions in their minds but they keep it there.  A Dwarf does not dissent from the Clan Lord lightly.

One, though, steps up to offer appreciation.  This is not his Clan Lord, so he's a little more free with his thoughts.

"I am Portham, a humble boatsman out of Brigantia.  I too am only passing through here.  Finely done, may I say!  Such expertise, and very Symbolic!"

Tahra responds Expertise, yes, and it can be symbolic...either the musician's and dancer's intentions or what the audience creates. Then took it's good exercise, strength and agility, plus it helps synchronize the rhythms of the body. Besides that, the mind is exercised translating the music into movement.

Topaz winds up the tune, and the dance with Siankiir.  "Thank you, m'lady,"  he offers along with a slight bow.  "You are a most delightful partner."

The Faun's illusory double rises, bows, and smiles in thanks before fading away as might morning mist before the rising sun.

From the conversation, Topaz has come to a conclusion about the Dour Folk.  Songs of great toil, recitations of epic battles where the Dwarves were the underdog, and other sorts of overcoming adversity through resilience, hard work, and dedication to tradition.  If they've been moved by simple beauty of art, they'll certainly find more once the group has had a moment to discuss and prepare.

Siankiir nodded, slight tremble in her form.  "Would that I was better for your talents, good faun.  It is -- I am, well...I am not a worthy enough dancer."

She stepped back.

"...and it's all so overwhelming..."

Tahra looks at Siankiir, considering. She looks away.

Nwofia moved over to Siankiir and wrapped her arms around her.  "We are all strangers in a strange land, sister", she whispered, "and we are all worthy.  You will find what makes you unique, not only out in the world but even among elves, and you will learn to love that, whatever it is.  You are worthy of love, of kindness and of admiration.  This I promise you in the names of the Sun and of the Dog Star."

As the self appointed Tour Manager of this little detachment from the Argentos Show (being the only Argentos present) Celeste makes the arrangements for food and lodging.

She has a conversation with the boatman about traveling, before returning to the others.

"I think we all know that the Rhine Fey left us with a very poorly defined task- to win the hearts of the Dwarves.  It's a vague target, and they clearly like us here, but I don't think the Fey will be satisfied with a quick performance for the first Dwarves we meet.

"I also think the Fey folk have a few misunderstandings about the Dwarves.  They are not cold creatures, they just warm up to other things.  It may not be the same things that move the Fey folk, but then, it's not the things that move the Orcs, either.  The boatman here can take us directly to one of the Dwarven cities on the Bodensee, a real city with thousands of Dwarves.  I think we have an idea now how we can best impress them...and we have Marcus with us, who can add some color to the show.  Maybe it is ambitious to go straight to a main city, but I think we can do it.  And the boatman says the lake transport is big enough for your horse, Alayna.  We can do this, right?"

"Would it make sense to perhaps ask around if there are any topics the dwarves would consider taboo or maybe legends they would appreciate being touched upon instead?"  Siankiir would be the first to admit knowing nothing about dwarven history, but she did understand diplomacy.  A ribald ballad meant for laughs might very well draw offense with the wrong audience.

"I am ready, as is Angel. Whatever tale we tell, I am good. And if I work with anyone else, I am happy. Please, I just want to make them happy."

Having danced for the Dwarves, she felt both a little embarrassed and a lot happy. The Faun made her feet move, and knowing she was watched was always fun. She would do and dress and perform as they wanted.