Cole sits down across from Cyrus and takes hold of his hand. Cole then pushes against Cyrus's resistance.
Sweat beads Cyrus' forehead as he continues to struggle, surprised by his performance so far.
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More needless competition, Dohosa thinks, wondering when something more interesting will happen.
Cyrus grimaces as his hand finally strikes the table's surface. "As I predicted," he remarks, "But I'm still curious about your proposed beer related contest. Care to enlighten us?"
Turkas begins to sing. "I'm so bored and this town is so boring. Why can't they offer something of interest to do?" His singing is off key and pitchy as well as being interspersed with a few hiccups from the previously imbibed alcohol.
Felfiz snores like a contralto practicing arpeggio.
After Cryus's hand is struck against the table. Cole smiles with success.
Answering Cyrus:
"Hm.. I had thought we'd get a drink before starting to arm wrestle and enjoy the beverage while we struggled but you seemed so anxious to start I wholly forgot about drinking." Cole chuckles to himself after realizing that something got his attention away from ale.
After hearing Turkas's complaint, "I'm running out of ideas to make this festival more lively, do you have any ideas Turkas?"
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"I'm going to go back and try to awaken Felfiz. He seems to be the only entertaining thing here," Cyrus announces before striding off towards the tavern the group visited earlier.
Reaching the tavern, Cyrus steps over the dissolving candyfloss and hoists Felfiz to his feet, shaking the gnome vigorously.
"Oh, Shelyn's Glaive, no! Not the muskmelon! It clashes so horribly with the spidersilk doilies. The Marchioness will be here any ~urp second!" Felfiz is as awake as the fates will allow, and a great deal less cogent.
Cyrus carries Felfiz to the middle of the festival, sets him down, and rejoins the others, settling in to watch the inebriated gnome's antics.
The arm-wrestling ends, predictably, with Cole's victory, followed, also predictably, by Turkas' complaint of being bored.
"He's still very drunk," Dohosa says with a smile to Cyrus as he retrieves a somewhat unsteady Felfiz from the inn. "Do you want something to eat?" Dohosa asks Felfiz, wondering how long it will take the gnome to fully sober up.
The gnome's eyes flutter open, and he pulls a wrinkled and soot-spotted kerchief from his sleeve. With the square of cloth, he wipes the drool from his mouth, smearing whatever black pigment he'd applied. He gives the kerchief an uncertain look and a slurred, "hmmm, a cartwheeling coyote," before folding it over and tucking it away.
Not bothered in the slightest by having been foisted into the spotlight, the gnome looks up at the other gathered clergy and interested bystanders, and, tugging his own lapels, Felfiz clears his throat. "I myself am no capering entertainer, but if anyone has an animal at hand, I can likely talk the creature into a feat or two." He claps his hands and rubs them together. "Shelyn does favor her birds, so a sparowhawk, songbird, or even a chicken will do spectacularly. I believe Desmond's knife range is handing out caged finches for a keen toss?" Felfiz shades his eyes and presses his lips to one corner, surveying the crowd. "If not, I could always have the fair's own strongest man courtesy; although, I may not live to regret it. He's a man of Gorum, you know."
Turkas stops singing when he overhears Felfiz mention that he can talk to animals. He stumbles forward and takes up a nearby seat to watch the performance.
Sorry I haven't been posting. I am super busy and will have to put everything on hold till August 7th.
As you finish speaking, a boy nearby yells "Got one!" and triumphantly holds up caged butterfly.
Felfiz's brows shoot up, and he cracks his knuckles. "Well, we wouldn't want it to be easy, now would we?" As the boy nears, Felfiz touches the pin fastened to his hat. I may need something more than luck here, Shelyn. Then, he cups his hands together and presses his thumbs to his lips. His hands move, and his cheeks puff out, but no sound comes out.
Dohosa looks askance at Felfiz's performance. "Are you trying to talk to that insect?" he asks disbelievingly.
"Why, is my accent that bad? I figure Morpho and Swallowtail aren't that different."
Cole is amused watching Felfiz whisper to a butterfly. Upon hearing Dohsa's comment Cole chimes in with, "I don't know if an insect has a brain big enough to talk to, perhaps you should try something larger Felfiz"
"Do you talk to animals frequently Felfiz?" Cyrus inquires. "If so, could you tell me something of their psychology? I've always been curious how animals thought, especially invertebrates."
"Wait! What happened? Was that all there was to the trick? I'm confused."
Felfiz gives the audience a plaintive expression. "Not so loud, and not all at once. I have to listen closely if we're going to make any headway with this one." He makes a pacifying gesture with his hand as he watches the butterfly consider the offer. "Everything speaks in pains and pleasures- everything worth speaking to in any case. I speak to creatures large and small, just about every day- sometimes many times a day. I'm asking this butterfly if they wouldn't mind following directions if there was some sweet water at the end of it."
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The gnome seems increasingly demented with every sentence he utters, but Dohosa has no reason to disbelieve what he says. Not yet at least. So he remains quiet while Felfiz chats to the insect, hoping that this won't become a regular occurrence.
"I see." Cyrus sits down and settles in to watch Felfiz. "By all means, carry on."
The butterfly starts flapping its wings vigorously as Felfiz begins talking to it.
Felfiz opens the cage and points to a point on his hat, asking the creature to perch there while he gathers the nectar.
"As my associate takes their perch here on my hat, is there some brave soul with a bit of punch or somesuch who will come to the front so my associate will land on your hand to drink?"
The butterfly flies forward and circles Felfiz's head a few times before landing on his noise. Some people in the crowd laugh.