The group eventually gets back to their wagons, and settles in for the night.  The wagons are mobile homes, with space for sleeping inside, though most are cramped and members of the troupe often sleep outside, even up on top of the wagons, when the weather is good.   Tonight it is cold:  it is still early in the season, and here, close to the great heights of the Alps, cold weather holds on as long as it can.  Well into spring there is frost in the morning, and often, a cold fog in the air.

Hylensia and Celeste make rounds of the troupe, making sure everyone is accounted for, no one wandered off and gone missing, no one having any problems.  That would be bad, on the night before the first show.

Performers tend to be slow to rise in the morning.  Most are definitely not what would be called “morning people”.  But the Argentos’s are used to that.  The first show isn’t until afternoon.  Plenty of time for everyone to sleep in as long as possible… except of course, those doing their guard duty shifts, and those with animals to take care of.

Alayna may want to sleep in.  The horse generally has other plans.  Ssasha has it easier, as the snakes do not have to be fed daily.

On the other hand, sleeping in is made harder by the fact that they have camped in the middle of a market.  The general noise and commotion of the town is hard to shut out.  People talking, children shouting, dogs barking, the banging from the smithy, the creak of wagons.  By mid morning it is very hard to sleep even for those determined to do so.

Very fortunately, the cook is not a performer and always wakes up on time.  Having done this for years, he knows there is no set breakfast time- he just stays ready to serve food whenever bleary eyed performers drag themselves over.  The Troupe visited the Halfling lands a few years back, and the Halflings were intrigued by the possibility of a breakfast that drags out all morning.

Tahra emerges, has breakfast, and reports to the Argentos. If they have nothing for her to do, she retires to her tent to await clients.

Having actually turned in at a reasonable hour, Lindon has no qualms waking with the market and slips out to greet the new morning.  And get something to eat.

Alayna actually slept well, cuddled up with her horse as was her habit.  Because of that, she actually got to sleep a little in, but as expected, Angel wanted food and attention and woke the half-elf eventually.

A creature of habit, the young teen did her morning stretches and movements, warming up her muscles and doing a light workout.  As usual, she wore a bodysuit as she did this, unconcerned with being seen by anyone.

Still, she was efficient in feeding her horse, making sure the other horses were taken care of, then brushed Angel before taking time to clean and then go eat before warming up the great white horse.

Normal morning routine was an immediate sugar or caffeine intake (fruit or coffee) and a two mile run before real breakfast, then another hour of weightlifting of calisthenics. The body sufficiently beaten into submission, it was time for a second dose of sugar and caffeine while reading or studying. But today was show day, so straight to breakfast he went.

“What’s cooking cookie?” He grumbled, sugar and caffeine was a necessity for a warm welcome. He hoped to catch Phileas for a quick word about upsetting the orc, but first he sat down with a full plate and proceeded to slowly turn that frown upside down.

Still in her form-fitting body suit, still with her long hair undone and laying wet on her back, she came to breakfast.  "Someone tell me not to drink Perry," she complained.  "I had funny dreams.  Oh!  Hello, Og!  I assume ye did better than I?" she asked, helping herself to a heaping helping of breakfast, more than a skinny girl should have.  "Funny dreams and an aching head.  But Angel woke me.  Want to try that idea of throwing me and catching me?  It would be fun.  To start, and then I run into trouble and you have to catch me.  A hero, right?  Want to try after this?"

She was always ready to try new things.  And she liked Og.  So why not?

Nwofia sleeps naked as always but as is her tradition, when she awakens, she dresses quickly in her travelling clothes.  The desert colours and coarse textures contrast beautifully with her smooth, dark skin and she puts on her boots with reinforced toes and heels and picks up her quarterstaff.  She leaves her cloak today carrying her quarterstaff with her and, after a quick breakfast of... well she doesn't ask because she trusts the chef, reports for early morning guard and/or security duty.

At breakfast though, she is friendly to all, whether performers or roustabouts.  She drinks juice to round it off and takes part in the general chatter saying good morning to everyone, particularly the shy ones but also including those who are the opposite of shy, and of course, the Argentos themselves.

Every day, her fifteen minutes stretches into forty five and every day she gets shouted at, but every day she smiles, and apologises and offers to take an extra hour at the end of her shift to make up for the half hour she missed at the beginning.

Esher having been raised in traveling shows and circuses before joining The Argentos Traveling Show. Esher was up with the cooks knowing that there were always small tasks that needed to be done.
Esher starts his morning sitting motionless in the morning breeze. He reviewed the spells he would need for the day and then went through his mental exercises to free his mind of the stress and concerns of the previous day. Once his mind was sufficiently relaxed he began to mentally gather energies and images and sculpt them into near complete thoughts of spells placing each on shelves in his mind so that he could call them to mind at a moments notice. those that are paying attention will notice that he almost never looked at or even opened his spellbook.

Upon completing the preparation of his daily spells, Esher grabs some breakfast at the kitchen wagon.

upon completion of breakfast (insert conversations with troupe members over breakfast) Esher organized his puppets for his show, and looks over the scrips and lays out the "improv" loop notes so that those that are less creative can fake it should they need help.

he also lays out character cards for each puppet so that if persons other then himself are controlling a particular puppet they can keep a cohesive character design.

upon finishing all that Esher unfolds the outriggers for his wagon and gets some help driving the stakes and unfolds his origami wagon. what was once a 20 ft x 10 ft x10 ft wagon now stands as 3 walls set at 45-degree angles to each other collapsible walkways and ladders fold and lock allowing up to 6 puppeteers to work simultaneously or for less to move around each other while still having easy access to the puppet racks.

while the set up is time intensive Esher remains able to talk with the cast and make plans for any of the productions going on today or any of the following.

Esher sends a discrete message asking if he should move forward with the (illusionary) exotic animal show.

Og smiled at Alayna. "You took it pretty well, pretty girl. Me? I have two pints with every meal. That perry though...I don't know, I'll stick to my dark ale."

He was happy she was interested in practicing with him, two performers with broken self-worth could really rely on each other for confidence.

"Aye, let's 'practice' later today after the first show, looking forward to it but I gotta keep concentrated on these lines Esher gave me for the puppet show. What was he thinking? When I said I'd help I thought I would just hold a puppet."

Alayna shook her head.  "Oh, I couldn't drink ale!" she said with a grimace.  "But otherwise, I slept a little funny and my head was a bit full this morning, but I'm good after eating some."

She patted Og's arm.  "It's okay, and yeah, we should have more time.  So I'll go warm up Angel and then get ready for the show, at least as soon as I'm done here," she added, eating at a rather fast pace.  Again, it was humorous that she could eat so much and yet be so skinny.  But she was clearly hungry.

lol

you opened your mouth...it is not my fault you "let" me insert an entire puppet show.

OOC: looking forward to it.

Apart from her roles on stage, which are admittedly not as dramatic as the others, and her potion crafting, Tahra has another function in the troupe, using her “witchery”.  While witches are not unknown, they tend to be rare, and generally secluded.  There are no store-front witches in towns.  The reason for this is that like all magic, their art makes them both powerful and vulnerable.  Witches practice their art where they can be safe.

Despite that, they have a reputation for being more directly connected to the average classes of people than do wizards. Hardly anyone can afford a wizard’s work.  Witches, on the other hand, will often make “toned down” versions of their potions that even a peasant can buy.  (And sometimes, witches will sell them at a loss, because one way to achieve safety is to have a lot of poor but strong peasants around who want you alive and well.)

People come to witches for all sorts of mighty spells- regrowing lost hair for example.  They also assume that witches, since they are wise enough to create this magic, can do "palm readings" and use other tricks for divining knowledge.  This is very popular with people.

Having “the witch” set up shop from her wagon in advance of the show draws interest, and also puts people in the mood to expect the mysterious and exotic.  Tahra generally opens for business a few hours before each show.   Some come for minor magics, others just for "readings".  Today, one of those Seekers of Wisdom is an Orc.

He calls himself Gutstomper, and wants to know if Tahra can do a "reading" for him, as he claims "It is like battle in my head, need to know winner."

Naturally, a lot of people stop and stare, wondering what Tahra will do about this.

Tahra inclines her head. An honor, Zot (Master) Gutstomper. It is wise to seek. Please be seated and let me hold your palms.

Ah, yes, see...on the one palm, these two lines are joined at the start. On the other, they start separately. That means you have a desire to do as you think best, but  you also feel you should do things that others approve of.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:56, Fri 05 Oct 2018.

Og keeps an eye on Tahra but but eyes on the orc. Not so much to protect the witch, but eager to end a fight if one breaks out.

Finished with breakfast he struggles to memorize the lines Esher wrote down for him, let alone try to read his handwriting.

Nwofia walks around the site, checking carefully to ensure that nothing has been tampered with and that nobody is trying to get a free show, and particularly to peak at any ladies who might be changing.  Small boys have a habit of doing that, don't they?

People are already coming into the area and looking to get the best seat.  Some, especially young adults and teenagers, have figured out that the rooftops of the buildings around the market make a good balcony, and the performers can see people appearing up there, one by one.  A few of the storekeepers yell at them, but eventually give up.

The "Best" best seats are right up front, and some women are maneuvering large numbers of children, obviously collected up from multiple families, into good spots.  There are even babies in the assembling audience- no one is being left home.


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

Gutstomper does not look happy.  "No," he says bitterly (hard to tell with an Orc, though, when they speak, everything can sound bitter).  "That is what Humans would say.  Say what Witch magic says.  Seven years Pugnant is my chief.  Now his own brother Longscar says Pugnant is betrayer of Orcs and we should leave him, or kill him.  Says he spoke to Infernals and this is so.  But says more Orcs coming to want live like us, with no fight with Humans.  Pugnant says good, welcome.  Longscar says no, stop them.  One is chief, one says he speaks to Infernal masters, cannot both be right.  Great trouble for me.  You tell me what witch says."

Tahra drew herself up, and her green eyes flashed. The bat Hyastenas, flitted down on her shoulder and regarded Gutstomper.

"You paid me to tell you what your hands show. Now you tell me to say what I think, not as human but as witch. So I will give you many words. Beware of thinking them too many.

"First I tell you more about what your hands say. This line, your fate, how your life may go. Here, more lines cross this line, your heart, how you feel in your heart. Here, more lines cross this line, your head, what you think. Here, this line, your life, it breaks. Line nearest thumb ends, less real life. Here this line, nearest palm, it goes on long, long, into wrist...greater life. Looks where all these are...shows about your life soon, soon. You will choose. One choice at first makes you feel free, powerful, smart. But soon, you would be like slave, weak like no way to help yourself, dumb. One choice, harder because you have to think about what other people want, need. But you gain friends, more respect, become wiser, power in council.

"Tahra drops  Gutstomper's hands and looks him in the eyes. Now this human woman tells you what you know. Demons helps the Huns build their empire. Cruel pleasure for the few, misery for the many. Empire like blown away by the wind. Red Toe tribe in Burgundy has their own land, orcs only, happy in their way, wild, free. You live in Cambrete. Not wild, but free...no slaves. Many people, yes, so need to get along or misery, fear, for everyone. More opportunities, more choices. Facts of city life.

"Infernal powers, now. Think of what you has happened. They give power with one hand, but what then? Who bosses, Infernals or orcs? And I think this: Accept what Infernals offer becomes like taking strong drink after strong drink. Soon, more is not enough. Forever needing more, forever a slave to that need.

"Now I will tell you what this witch thinks. I was born a human just like you are born an orc. You are lucky; you can choose. Being a witch came to me; I live on the line between this world and the worlds of the outside powers. I on a narrow path...good on one side, evil on the other. Always I have to choose. If I do evil, I crave more evil; and I gloat over the evil I've done. If I do good, it becomes easier to do good; and I sleep well. I see something like this in you, Zot Gutstomper. You will have to choose, and if you do not choose, you choose helping the Infernals, and They will laugh.

"You keep my sooth in mind, or I pity your soul."

Tahra relaxed and looked up at Gutstomper, and drew a deep breath. Hyastenas returned to the ceiling.

"Now I am done, and I am just Tahra. Perhaps you would like a friend. If so, here I sit, ready to listen."

The Orc grunts.  Perhaps it means something- hard to tell with Orcs, sometimes, their language seems to include a lot of random grunting.

He doesn't seem happy with the answers he's got.

"Too much to think," he says.  "Not like think."

The Orc leaves with another grunt, and an expression that... well, being an Orc, none of his expressions look pleasant, but this one looks bothered.

People are assembling, and the time comes around for the show to begin.  Nwofia concludes that everyone is in fact getting a free show- as the Argentoses explained, the show is being paid for by the Kingdom of Burgundy, and especially Count Ansgar, the local lord saddled with the burden of establishing peace, prosperity, and loyalty to Burgundy in this region.

Nwofia is sure that both trapeze and tightrope are safe by the beginning of the show and no small boys have seen more of the women than they should and she returns to her sleeping place and changes quickly, returning all sparkly and translucent as if she were the night sky itself.

Tahra sits anxious and saddened. She shakes herself, having resolved on a course of action for next morning.

Not being part of this show, she places herself where she can look over the audience.

After a hurried breakfast, Alayna went to exercise Angel, then took her time cleaning up, adding more dye to the green streaks in her hair, braiding it and putting it up so it would stay and taking time to memorize her lines for the play, which she did outside of the riding.

For riding, she wore a dark green bodysuit and a tight short dress with a tiny skirt.  It served to all stay in place when she did her tricks.  Her feet were bare as were her hands.  The dress was a lighter green, trimmed in silver with a silver leaf pattern all through it.  With the green and silver halter and small saddle on Angel, they were a matched pair.

And of course she was nervous... not with fear, but excitement.

Esher set up his lighting and sound design plans and prepared for the first show.

while he waited he continued to entertain the small children so that some of the mothers could  have bit of time to socialize with each other.

the layout of the puppet "stage" allowed for many children to be corralled and supervised with  maximum efficiency.

The mid day audience assembles- men, women and children, with the exception of those working distant fields or other jobs that don't let them return to the town for a lunch break.

Quite a few children, even babies.  Most of the little ones are crowded towards the front.

And there are Orcs.  Mostly, the Orcs in attendance are watching from a distance, trying to look like they are here to watch the general commotion, and not the show itself.

The Elves Alayna saw the previous night in the Dog and Bunny are here.

Phileas Argentos is his "Master of Ceremonies" attire, a colorful, playful version of a king's royal garb, clearly meant to show he is important, but "fun" enough so that he doesn't insult any actual nobles.   A fine line, he walks.

He addresses the crowd, hushing them and telling them what the will see: a play in five short acts, the timeless Magic Cheese of Rungelstone, told partly with puppets.  (the Gnomes in the story being entirely puppets, as Marcos is the only "small" member of the cast and can't be spared from operating the puppets.

"And in between, feats of great skill and artistry, music and acrobatics.  We have Alayna of the Elves, who was actually raised among wild horses, and speaks their language.  The Exotic Nwofia, from a land so distant that even those who live there only half believe it, will show you impossible stunts that her people are masters of.  And Ssasha, who befriends deadly serpents, who will start off our show for you... mind you, those in the front row... if you have a fear of snakes, you might want to move back.

"Musicians, if you please!"

(For skill checks during performances, the cast has the option of making a skill role with the relevant skill of their choice.  On a natural 1, there is a chance of a mishap, but high scores increase your reputation- and that of the show as a whole.  Otherwise, you can simply "take 10" on a relevant skill, giving a good show but not taking any daring risks or pushing the edge of your talent.)

as the master of ceremonies is making his address one of the puppets on the wall "seems" to jump off of its racks in full view of every one.

this particular puppet being dressed to fit every stereotype of a villain. the puppet as if  on cue as the master of ceremonies is mentioning the play, pull out a giant wheel of cheese and a over-sized scimitar and prepares to "cut the cheese"...only for a shepherds crook to pull the villain puppet off stage before he can disrupt the opening ceremonies.

---

(will save DC 14)
(opening of the puppet show allows all viewers a +10 on will saves vs Escher's illusions, making the will save dc 4
as the show starts a thin layer of fog rolls across the stage. the illusions flow so seamlessly and realistically that the difference between the costumed actors, the actors wearing illusion augmented costumes, and the actors who were only illusions; were indistinguishable.

Almost as soon as the play ended the puppet show kicked off. Telling the epic tales from far off lands about the honorable knights and warriors who brought great honor to family and country, some at great cost to them selves. warriors that were immortalized in history books and massive monuments of stone.

between each scene Escher narrates a bit to give a pause so that those not aware of the illusion a new chance to come to realize its illusion format.

As the scenes rolled on and on, the images that had began clearly illusion and impossibly fantastical, ...but as the puppet show climaxed the scene became more realistic. Tangible waves of heat can be felt as illusions of great heroes fought epic dragons kicking up illusion waves of snow that made the occasional viewer shiver from almost realistic cold.

the final acts of the puppet show finds Escher sitting in a lotus position center stage as the entire show has become one massive illusion projected above the stage in the air taking up 6, 10 ft cubes

some of the orcs may find a vague family resemblance between themselves and some of the epic heroes depicted in the tales.

as the show concludes Escher opens a portion of the stage to reveal masks and novelty weapons and shields for sale, so that children can dress up and "play" as the epic heroes.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Thu 18 Oct 2018.

The first part of the show would happen, then it would be her turn.  For her, she would stick mostly with her prepared show... Standing as she rode in a circle, dropping to ride astride, doing hand-stands, sliding under Angel, then to the other side.  She would swing from one side to the other, then lay on her back.  She would also put Angel through her paces, having him rear, having him walk on his hind legs a short distance, having him lay down to allow her to dismount, do some tumbles, then remount.

But where she would deviate would on the last circuit. And it would happen when she stopped at the front.  She had practiced it a few times, and it would be her hardest trick...

Things go well.   Nothing goes wrong.  Nothing goes unexpectedly wonderful, but for the first show of the season, a smooth performance is a very good start and a good omen.

Well... one thing is just a little bit.. not necessarily good or bad, but interesting.

Marcus's Orc caricatures during his puppet shows get the attention of the Orcs.  Orcs are swift to recognize when Orcs are being portrayed, and at first they don't know what to make of it.  Quickly they see that the portrayals aren't insulting, in fact, flattering.

After the show, a delegation of Orcs shows up to speak to the Argentos's.  They are a little worried at first, but the Orcs don't seem angry, so Hylensia and Phileas agree to the private meeting.

It doesn't last long, and very soon, as the cast is having their lunch, the Argentos's return.

Phileas approaches the lead cast members (the PC's) quietly.

"Wherever we go there is always someone thinking we have special powers that are just the thing for solving the problems of the days.  They never have any idea how we can solve it, and obviously if it was easy they would do it themselves, but they always think we can do it.  I guess we impress some people too much at times.  The Orcs here seem to have a kind of internal political problem.  It is the sort of thing I would normally be loathe to get involved in, but, given how delicate the situation here, and how very different... a lot of good can be done, if Pugnant has got things right, and the Orcs believe it.  If you think about it, with the Orcs, there is either going to be some kind of integration with society like Pugnant is trying, or there is going to be war until Orcs are exterminated.. or we are."

Tahra speaks up. Let's suppose that the infernals are trying to stir the orcs up to trouble. And wouldn't the internals like it if they could sow hatred among kin, particularly prominent kin.

“Why is it always us?” Hylensia asks her husband.  “From the way some people regard us you’d think we have special powers.”

“We do,” Celeste points out.

Hylensia raises an eyebrow at her daughter.  “Nothing any wizard with a halfway decent spell book would be awed by.”

“And it’s not just special powers, it’s special thinking,” Celeste continues.  She looks to her father.  “It’s really Orcs this time?  What do they want us to do?”

Phileas nods.  "Yes. It's Orcs, and it's... well it's complicated.  Tahra's right, it's a question of stirring up trouble.  There's an Orc named Gnashrip, here who claims to be... well I don't know if 'cleric' is the right word... speaker.  Speaker for an Infernal Being.  Gnashrip disappears for a while, from as little as a day to three or four days, and comes back and starts talking to the Orcs, telling them that Pugnant is misleading them, telling them that Pugnant is making them soft and slow and unworthy warriors.  Telling them to be true to the Infernal Masters.   And now... there is word that a group of Orcs who want this kind of cooperative life are on their way here, and Gnashrip is trying to round up a few volunteers to go out and confront them.  Pugnant is wary about stopping Gnashrip himself because that would set up the very Orc against Orc violence he is trying to avoid.  And we wouldn't have to fight Gnashrip.  Just discredit him somehow.  Get the newcomers to ignore him, pass him by, or even laugh him off."

Alayna came a mite bit late to the session, but was able to gather most.  She had landed her backflip from her Angel at bit roughly, having to fall to her hands before standing fully.  It hurt her knees a bit, and she was angry at herself.  Truly, that was an easy feat for her, and she was unhappy she muffed it.

She sat with the others, wearing a short dress, her legs bare, her feet bare.  She was annoyed with herself.

"Orcs are what they are.  And even me, with makeup, dresses and a horse, am seen as unearthly.  They will believe what they will believe.  So maybe we need to be a little more earthy and show what we do without magics.  Heck, anyone could see my landing today as not magical!  So show them what we do as us.  And if we do magics, show them the magics up front and call them that.  So they know its a show, not an illusion."

She settled herself, rubbing her knees and clearly annoyed at herself.

"That may get us out of helping," Lindon explained to Alayna, "showing them we're really nothing special, but it doesn't help the people of this town.

"Did you see how many children were in the front rows?  What will happen to them if this Gnapsnip succeeds in stirring up a war?"

He looked around at the others and added with a smirk, "And we all know that together, we're far from nothing special."

Nwofia sighs.  "Doesn't much matter really, whoever wins, the Infernals win.  I'd like Pugnant to win because Cambete would be a nicer place to live and I like nice."

Alayna massaged her leg.  "So how do we discredit an Orc?  Show him as crazy?  Or create something he believes that everyone knows is fake and make him out to be fake?"

Of course, such magics were not her thing.

"Maybe someone can spy on him?  Find out what he's doing?"

Tahra considers the conversation and voices one thought. Alayna, I'm not against spying exactly, but I wonder. From what i know of the infernals, they delight in lies and deceit. That doesn't mean we can't act in secret or work indirectly. For instance, we could stage a play where a villain wins but hat seeming victory destroys him.

"I like Alayna's idea to discredit Gnugsnap," Lindon said.  "We just need to keep anyone from joining his cause.

"We could spread a rumor that he's claimed speaking to higher beings before when he wasn't.  Then have that puppet show, the one with the three pigs and the wolf.  You know, where the pigs cried out for help when there was no wolf?"

Nwofia grins her most wicked grin, the kind of grin that makes drow go pale, and suggests with no hint of a smile, "Perhaps we could sneak into his house at night and cover him in perfume?"

If we put on play or do something pertinent, I suggest we make an orc a hero...or heroine.

Aria had remained quiet as she listened to everyone's thoughts and suggestions. The very idea of helping orcs sent a shiver through the young girl's body. While she couldn't remember that fateful day sixteen years ago, her "mother" had spared no detail in the description of the carnage she had been found in. Now that she was part of the show itself and not just one of the countless workers who saw to the logistics of the operation, Aria felt compelled to move past her reticence and speak.

"I like Tahra's idea," Aria said softly. Even when she spoke, her voice had an ethereal quality that was made doubly so when she sang. "I volunteer to be the orc if it is necessary. I can speak the language, even sing it, and that would make it more real to those watching."

"I share Nwofia's opinion," Phileas said.  "I think even though Pugnant is an Orc, his path is better for the people of Cambete than Gnashrip's.  Though I am skeptical of Nwofia's tactics... covering him with perfume would humiliate him, yes.  In fact, I have it on good authority that Orcs find the scent of lavender particularly repellent.  However... it is a temporary measure, and we would have to move on, and leave behind a very unhappy Orc with revenge on his mind. Tahra suggests presenting an Orc as a hero or heroine... but it would have to be an Orc who has chosen the path of reconciliation and coexistence, of course.  Aria, you can speak their tongue, than you will be our Orc.  We need a story that has Aria being a successful model to shore up support for Pugnant."

The show master looked off in thought for a moment.  Those who knew him understood that there was often a kind of "extra curricular activity" that followed these kind of things.  Clearly he was thinking of one.

"Of course... I am curious to know where this Gnashrip fellow goes, since he comes and goes frequently from the town.  Judging by what I am told of the time, it can't be far.  Does he have an ally nearby?  Some hidden supporters waiting in the wings?  Or perhaps a master he reports to?  I would very much like to know what he is up to."

Lindon looked around to see if anyone was going to volunteer to follow the unstable orc with very large muscles as he met with an infernal creature in the dark far from help.

Alayna paused in her rubbing of her knee to look around.  She thought for a long moment, then spoke up.

"I... I could follow him.  I mean, I would see where he goes, if that is needed."

That would be spying, which would give fuel to suspicions.

She gave a smile.  "Only if they catch me.  Little girl, light of foot, all in black?"

Radiating heat....

"Safely, from a distance," Phileas says with a worried look.  "Just to see where he goes.  It would be better not to be alone, though."

He raises an eyebrow at the assembled group.

Alayna looked disgruntled, certain this was aimed at her.  She thought she was old enough.  And careful enough.  So she stayed quiet, saying nothing.  For now.

"I'll go with her," Lindon sighed.  He couldn't just sit there and let all the ladies do the heavy lifting.  He didn't even think Escher showed up for the meeting.

"Do we know where he is now?"

Aria noticed her friend's look. It was the same look she had had many times in the past when she thought her age or size was being held against her. Patting the half-elf on the shoulder in reassurance, Aria whispered softly, "I thought it was a great idea. I'm sure you'll do a great job."

Alayna blushed a little, then reached up and squeezed Aria's hand.  "Thank you.  I... I needed that."

She looked at Lindon.  "So. We need to get ready to follow, right?" she stated, feeling better with her friend's support.

"To follow him we must find him," Phileas says.   "And for that there is Tahra's plan.  We must be quick, and create this Orc-heroine story for the next show.  When the Orc learn that we are deliberately portraying them in a positive light, I'm sure this Gnashrip will show up.  I'll just have to get one Pugnant's fellows to point him out to me."

He takes a deep breath.

"So, we have to quickly redo a story, to feature an Orc.. but let's not be silly about it, we still have to entertain the Human audience.  And of course, the visiting Elves!"

Tahra puts forth an idea.

I can be a witch with my cauldron. Somebody can be an orc. I can tell the orc he can be a great ruler, make all fear him if only he will swear fealty to the great God Mumbo-Jumbo, Patron of those who want to do whatever they want. The orc could see thought the plot. Hmm. won't work with just one; probably would work better if a companion of the orc fell into the trap.

https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/mumbo-jumbo.html  There's also a racist poem The Congo Vachel Lindsey (who was anti-racist)
The phrase probably originated from the Mandingo name Maamajomboo, which was a masked dancer that took part in religious ceremonies. In the 18th century Mumbo-jumbo referred to a West African god.

Francis Moore, in his 1738 work Travels into the inland parts of Africa noted:

    "The women are kept in the greatest subjection; and the men, to render their power as compleat as possible, influence their wives to give them an unlimited obedience, by all the force of fear and terror. For this purpose the Mundingoes have a kind of image eight or nine feet high, made of the bark of trees, dressed in a long coat, and crowned with a whisp of straw. This is called a Mumbo Jumbo; and whenever the men have any dispute with the women, this is sent for to determine the contest, which is almost always done in favour of the men. One who is in the secret, conceals himself under the coat, and bringing in the image, is the oracle on these occasions. No one is allowed to come armed into his presence. When the women hear him coming, they run away and hide themselves; but if you are acquainted with the person concealed in the Mumbo Jumbo, he will send them all to come, make them sit down, and afterward either sing or dance, as he pleases; and if any refuse to come, he will send for, and whip them. Whenever any one enters into this society, they swear in the most solemn manner never to divulge the secret to any woman, or to any person that is not entered into it: and to preserve the secret inviolable, no boys are admitted under 16 years of age. The people also swear by the Mumbo Jumbo; and the oath is esteemed irrevocable. There are very few towns of any note that have not one of these objects of terror, to frighten the poor women into obedience."

"Do we really want to have any orcs at all?" Lindon asked skeptically.  "We don't want to be obvious that we're talking about them.

"Are there any myths or stories where Infernals trick people?  If we just use a real story, people will know we're not making it up.  It'll just be a coincidence.

"We don't want to be obvious we're meddling."

Escher listen quietly from his spot on top of his wagon. With a waive of his hand (major image; duration: concentration) a sheet of parchment drifts down from the sky landing on the ground.



uppon reading the papper vannishes leaving no proof it even existed.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:54, Thu 08 Nov 2018.

Nwofia looks up toward the top of the wagon and clicks her teeth but otherwise says nothing.  She's not a big fan of unpleasantness.

"I don't think that's what we're being asked," Lindon said, looking up at Escher.  "We're not assassins."