Xing shakes her head at Elsa's question. "I do not," she says as she stands. She throws her head back, finishing her wine in one big gulp. "Tomorrow will come early, I'm thinking. I'm going to see what's going on downstairs, then likely go to bed."
She grins over at Senna and Sabelina. "Thank you for chatting. Let me know how I can help plan the party. If nothing else, I'm happy to help pay for it."
She momentarily changes into her cat self. "I can't wait to cause some headache for Burt."
Sabelina bids Xing a good night and gets up to splash a little more wine into her glass. She holds up the bottle and asks Senna "Any more for you?"
Yash keeps a wary eye on the hobgoblins. They speak quietly among themselves and their beady eyes dart to the bartender frequently. It seems the lesser gobbos are trying to make points to their leader who is fixed on the redhead. But if they have any immediate intent towards Kat , their plans are forestalled by the crush of people entering the Slattern. Fairly quickly the hobgoblins are relegated to a distant corner of the main room, far from the bar. The redhead builds and slings drinks quickly and efficiently, seemingly too busy to notice the hobgoblins’ interest.
Yash turned to the nearest patron and inquired "what going on?” nodding to the apparent increase in activity as the customers continued to pour in.
The stubble-faced stevedore gives Yash a guarded look for a long moment before something ‘clicks’ and he recognizing the potential new resident. His expression immediately lightens and he speaks like a conspirator. ”Got a special singer comin’ in tonight! She only ever sings at Crossroads, that I recollect. So many of us have never heard her.”
Xing is initially surprised by - and then has to navigate past - the crowd of folks lingering at the base of the stairs. Whatever is happening in the Slattern’s tavern, it has drawn an impressive turnout. Literally the only table with seats left is Yash’s along with the wreckage of his enormous meal.
Sabelina bids Xing a good night and gets up to splash a little more wine into her glass. She holds up the bottle and asks Senna "Any more for you?"
Senna holds out her glass, ”Just a splash more, please.” After Sabelina pours the wine, the archer tips her glass to the swordswoman in thanks before drinking.
The women’s attentions are drawn to the serving girl who is still fidgeting nervously in the doorway. Senna shares a brief what’s-her-problem? look with Sabelina. ”Elsa, are you here to confess your undying love for one or both of us? No one should look that nervous unless they are planning to propose.”
The question snaps the girl from the swirl of thoughts in her head. ”No, ma’am! No, I…” Exasperated, she blurts out the truth in a rush, ”I was going to ask if you needed me for the next hour or so, because if you didn’t then I’d really like to go downstairs to see the show and and Salli said I can have the time off if you didn’t need me but only if you said it was ok and I was just hoping you didn’t… need me, that is. So, do you?”
Sabelina shrugs at Elsa.
"We won't be needing anything. You can go. Is there something special about this show?"
"Thank you, ma'am!" Elsa is practically giddy, "Saelihnriel is maybe the greatest singer in Threshold ever. She barely sings at Crossroads and almost never anywhere else in the city. So, I might not have this chance again. They say her voice is so magical it moves people. I really hope it's true."
Too excited to stand still any longer Elsa bolts, presumably to get ready for show.
Looking after her Sabelina comments "I hope she puts on something less skimpy before going downstairs. As long as I'm up here, she's one of my people and I'm obliged to look after her. I'd rather she not attract too much unwelcome attention."
"That said" Sabelina sighs, "I suppose I should go down as well. Besides, this Saelihnriel sounds interesting."
Sabelina quickly drains the remains of her glass. "So much for an early night. I should get dressed. Are you in Senna?"
The archer smiles, "Definitely 'in'! I'm curious if this 'magical voice' is hyperbole. And damn right, we need to keep an eye on Elsa - she made my hair look good! Besides, my other plans for the evening revolved around Yash wooing me with Orkish love poems. Since he's in hiding, it's his loss. I'll meet you down there."
Senna strides over to her own room and quickly throws on some clothes. She takes a second to appreciate her still well-combed hair in the mirror before flying down the stairs, three at a time.
Sabelina also takes some extra time to do things up nicely. She doesn't go full blown fancy dress, that might be too much. But she does put on her best clothes otherwise and do her hair up, added a bit of makeup. If this singer really is a big deal Violetta and Donel might be down there, so looking shabby wouldn't do at all.
She's the last to arrive.
Xing pauses on the stairs, her eyebrows rising in surprise at the full tavern main room. ”Oh my,” she mutters to herself as she moving towards the one small bubble of vacant space surrounding Yash.
The tall woman weaves through the crowd, showing a surprising amount of care as she avoids touching nearly anyone else. Finally arriving at Yash’s table, she sits down, perusing the mountain of discarded food for a bit. ”So, Yash-of-Many-Words,” she vaguely gestures to the crowd, ”what is all this? Have they come to their senses and gathered to worship your greatness?”
Finally spying something enticing, she grabs a bone from Yash’s discardings that holds only the barest hint of meat still on it … and begins nibbling at it. ”I wonder what new thing we will learn about this place now.”
As she nibbles, her eyes roam the room.
Xing doesn't have to look far for a familiar face. Across the table from her, speaking quietly with Yash, is Breck the stubble-faced stevedore. He locks eyes with the monk briefly then gives her a polite nod, seemingly without malice.
Where Xing danced through the crowd with finesse, Senna treats it more as an obstacle course. She surmounts every hurdle with a subtle push and an ”Excuse me” or a ”Sorry” or a ”That was my fault, I owe you another drink”. Eventually, she reaches the table and falls into a chair.
”What a crush! Good thing I saw you folks from the stairs or I would have had to ask that gnoll over there for a piggy-back ride so I could see the festivities.”
Xing returns Breck's nod, then points to the bar, mouthing, 'you want a drink?' She points to herself, 'I buy.'
Then she turns a smirk on Senna, "I would pay to see that." She grimaces, her nose scrunching, "Though you could pick a less mangy mount, I would say."
Breck nods at Xing's question and gives her a thumbs up.
Sabelina scans the crowd over a glass of wine. Eventually, she does spot Donal and Violetta. They are sitting quietly on the upper steps of the circular stairs leading to Salli’s office – leaving the floor space for the Slattern’s customers. Similarly, Elsa (dressed appropriately) is being a wallflower in a far corner of the room. Violetta catches Sable’s eye and offers a discreet wave. She nudges Donal who sees the swordswoman and offers her a broad smile before reaching down his pants to pull out… a familiar note. He waggles the note in Sabelina’s direction and gives her a wink. It seems her offer may be acceptable.
Then she turns a smirk on Senna, "I would pay to see that." She grimaces, her nose scrunching, "Though you could pick a less mangy mount, I would say."
Senna is about to retort, “I’ve mounted worse.” but decides that could be taken the wrong way. Instead she quips, ”DEAL!”, jumps up, and plows through the crowd straight for the hulking gnoll.
The 5 foot somethin’ archer has an animated conversation with all 7’ of gnoll. To be accurate, Senna is animated, while the gnoll watches the small woman’s antics, largely unmoved. After several minutes of cajoling, bargaining, and a bit of begging, the gnoll nods. In moments, Senna is riding like a child on the gnoll’s shoulders and strategically ducking her head so she doesn’t smash her skull on the ceiling.
She flashes Xing a wide grin and a wink before speaking more with the gnoll.
Xing nods back to Breck and begins making her way over to the bar. That's when she notices Senna's antics, grinning as she arrives in front of the red-headed Katniss.
She waves the drink-mixer over and waits ... the place is, after all, quite busy. When the woman does arrive, Xing leans in close, pointing back towards Breck.
"Have you ever served him? If so, make two of what he usually drinks, but make them a bit on the strong side." She can't help but laugh as a particularly low ceiling beam threatens to take Senna from her perch. "In fact, make 4 of them. Two for me and Breck. Two for the gnoll and its fiery little jockey."
Kat gives Xing a rye look… then lifts the hinged section of the bar and pulls the monk in. ”I hear you’re working here. Here’s lesson one. Breck mainly drinks Boilermakers – that’s a shot of whisky (of any sort) in a glass a beer.” She hands Xing a specific bottle of whisky along with four shot glasses. ”Fill each one of those while I get the beer.” Kat throws tankards beneath the taps and pumps both sticks at the same time while speaking with other customers. After she has 4 tankards filled with a thick, dark, beer she brings them over to Xing. She looks at the shot glasses critically then pushes them together so they are in a straight line and touching. She takes the bottle of whiskey and tops up each glass in a single sweep of her pouring arm. ”Good work. There are different ways to serve a Boilermaker which can change the name of the drink, if we’re being precise. So, if the shot accompanies the beer, or if the shot glass is dropped into the beer, or if it is just poured in… it matters. To keep it easy with a crowd this size, just pour one shot into each of the beers.” Kat watches Xing do it. ”OK, now deliver them and try not to spill. Thanks! And welcome to the world of pubtending. I’ll be your teacher when you start for real. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She lifts the bar top again and gently pushes Xing out with the armload of tankards before dropping the top and hustling to build more drinks.
It quickens Sabelina's pulse to see Violetta and Donal, the more so because it appears she hasn't made a fool of herself by writing the letter. She feels like she should play things cooler than her impulse would be though. She gives them both a smile and small wave, and doesn't linger on them. Sabelina hopes her message conveys considerably more than dismissiveness, while stopping well short of staring and and drooling.
Sabelina, feeling very up now and highly democratic, decides to rescue Elsa from her awkwardness. She wades through the crowd over to the woman to invite her to join them, while thinking about how fraternizing with the help would make her mother's toes curl in horror. It's delightful.
"Elsa, are you waiting for someone? If not, we have a table across the room. Would you like to come sit with us, or perhaps stand on the table?"
Elsa's eyes go wide and she shakes her head vigorously, whispering, "Thank you so much but I shouldn't, ma'am! You're guests. I just work here. I couldn't take a chair from a customer."
Mama Cookie isn't far behind. He hefts herself up onto the table and uses the chair as a footrest. Chaos indeed! I was nearly stepped on twice! she huffs indignantly.
The first sign that Mama Cookie is somewhere about is Lucy jumping up next to Yash. She practically glows in spite of the light in clear feelings of a victory well earned. I KNEW I could make it! That old grouch can't keep me away in all this chaos!
Sabelina is conscious of the bind Elsa mentions. Two people more powerful than her telling her to do opposite things.
"Well, I won't make you sit, but if you decide you'd like to take in the show in good company we're over there."
Sabelina points out the table and, starts back through the crowd.
"Regardless, enjoy the show."
Desire wins out eventually... as Elsa makes her way over to the team's table to stand nearby.
Yash nodded as Xing approached. In response to her inquiry, he responded with a definitive "yes?" before grabbing another slab of whatever meat was being served. He kept his eyes moving about the room, watching as the others spread out to mingle, and was rightfully startled when Lady jumped up on the table. His arm had raised in defense to whack her with what was left of the hunk of meat he had been chewing on, but slowly it returned to the table and the remnants rolled across the table towards Lady. Instead he grabbed a mug of ale and began to wash down his dinner, as well as his neck and part of his chest.
Sabelina is completely aghast and looks away from the atrocity that is Yashnarz at mealtime.
Lady yips and starts tearing at the hunk of donated meat scraps with vicious abandon. It's a wonder she doesn't fall straight off the table! If Yashnarz is a atrocity, Lady is a war crime against polite dining.
Xing looks over, seeing Sabelina, Mama Cookie, and Yash sitting at the table. she makes enough of the Boilermakers for everyone (making sure she's settled up with the bar), then finds one of the serving trays to deliver them.
The trip back — navigating the boisterous room with the tray of drinks — is a new experience. Xing finds it a fulfilling challenge, then slides everyone a drink. When she places Sabelina's boilermaker down, she gives her friend a shrugging smile. "It's not wine, but this is closer to what I'm used to drinking. Hope it's not too bad."
With her friends' drinks delivered, she heads over to Brecker. "Miss Katniss says you enjoy these boilermakers." She sets his down, sets her own down, then finds a place to set the tray. She hoists her drink towards him. "I am not good with people. I hope that doesn't mean we can't at least be allies."
Sabelina doesn't sit at the table due to wanting to to avoid being within splatter range of the frenzy taking place on it.
Breck clinks his tankard against Xing's. "I've got no problem with that. And it all worked out anyway. No harm, no foul."
Salli comes down the circular stairs from her office, having traded her work-a-day frock for her best Godsday dress. It must stand out to the locals because much of the crowd quiets down noticeably. She whispers something to Kat before heading over to the musicians’ corner.
Kat sharply rings a ship’s bell perched in the tray ceiling above the bar before belting out with authority, ”A’right! Last call for drinks before our guest performer arrives. While she’s here, the bar is closed – no exceptions. If you even look like you are going to ask me for a drink, I will personally shove you headfirst through a cheese grater. Clear? Great! If you want something to drink, get it now.”
People begin to immediately sidle up to the bar.
Since all hope of a long night's sleep has been lost and a dry spell is coming, Sabelina orders herself a full bottle of decent red.
In short order, Salli and the musicians clear additional space near the trio and sweep the floorboards clean – an impromptu stage for their guest performer. Salli silently watches until all the final booze and food orders have been filled and everyone settles into their respective spots. Then she takes center stage as all of the lanterns lighting the tavern are quickly hooded. The only illumination in the Slattern is provided by one stage lantern, a few candles, and the fire from the fireplace.
”Good evening citizens, residents, and guests. We have a very special performer who wishes to share her gift with you tonight. It is a privilege for the Slattern, and my honor to host her. However, be warned…” Salli now switches from the common tongue to what Yash (from his wanderings in the Bizarre Bazaar) recognizes as Canto – the language of Threshold.
She continues, ”Kiam vi vekas tigron...”
To which the vast majority of the attendees respond in unison, ”…uzu tre longan bastonon.”
Salli nods and continues, ”For those of you who are new to our community that means When you wake a tiger… use a very long stick. Our guest this evening is a formidable tiger and I expect you to treat her with the utmost respect. Because there isn’t a stick long enough for you to safely poke her. So, mind your manners and keep your noise to a minimum.”
”So, without further fanfare, may I present the singular voice of Saelihnriel, Bard of Niloc.” Salli leaves the stage to stand by the bar amid the sound of subdued applause for the arriving diva.
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You aren’t sure what you were expecting… but it probably wasn’t an incorporeal elven woman rising through the floorboards of the tavern, glowing with a nacreous blue witchfire. Her fine silken dress and cloak – incorporeal as the rest of her – are in streaming tatters. Her clothing as well as her long hair, seem to billow in constantly shifting winds that none of you feel. She reaches out a slender arm, covered in a tailored leather cestus stamped with elven designs and half-shutters the stage lantern. Her own eerie glow is all the lighting she needs.
All this is intriguing enough but she poleaxes the audience regardless of it. There is something compelling about her and it isn’t just the effortless grace of her movements or her otherworldly beauty. She is utterly magnetic . And yet for all her draw… you are, at the same time, repulsed. For the exquisite, inhumanly perfect angles of her face are overshadowed by her expression. Tears drip like thick syrup from her eyes and barely move down her translucent cheeks. Her face is a mask of despair, sadness, and all-consuming rage. If this is the tiger, you belatedly realize you are in the cage with her and she is already wide awake.
Saelihnriel speaks without preamble, her voice a lovely (and chilling) mezzo-soprano, ”Good evening. This is a simple ballad some of you may know. Join me at the chorus, if you wish.” She gestures to the musician on the strange instrument who begins to play…
A large number of the patrons do quietly sing the chorus with her. The song seems to be a touchstone for many of them. As the song ends, there is subdued and respectful applause. The bard nods, acknowledging it.
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Saelihnriel and the musicians begin a different sort of song, lighter in some ways, but also touching on loss…
Her voice is good, certainly, but you are beginning to wonder if perhaps the bard’s reputation might be a bit over-inflated. A different musician, a guitarist, begins another tune.
Shooting Star (song begins around 1 min mark)
This song is far more haunting and expressive. You suspect the first songs were just a warm-up and not a measure of her skill… and that hunch is proved correct as Saelihnriel launches into a long set of gut-wrenching songs about heartbreak, longing, loneliness, despair, betrayal, sorrow, anger, and profound loss.
Her voice grips you by the throat and never lightens up.
Mama Cookie is carried by the music. She cannot help but be, really. Because of all the tavern folk here, and certainly of the new comers, she has lost more than most. Husbands, friends, all of her peers from her youth, and now her home. Even though it was a voluntary loss, it was still a loss keenly felt here in this moment, in this tavern. Sharp eyed observers may notice her mouthing along quietly from time to time, moisture beading in her eyes. She does not trust her voice to sing.
Lady moves to take a set next to Mama, but spares a moment to catch Sabelina's eye and wink. Was lady provoking the swordwoman's highborn sensibilities? No response can really be made beyond a simple reacion before Lady turns to her seat and the even begins.
For the duration Lady sits beside Mama, serving as her emotional anchor. Her tail swishes in time to the music, though she doesn't sing.
After Saelihnriel's appearance Sabelina vows to never be surprised by anything she sees in Threshold ever again.
Sabelina relaxes and lets the music roll over her like waves. Having experienced no real tragedies in her young life, the hooks for her are the artistry of the music and the incredible presence of Saelihnriel.
Senna listens, mouth agape, on the shoulders of the gnoll.
Xing nods in response to Breck, and drinks to his words. Sensing that the tone of the place is shifting, she makes her way back to the group’s table, slipping onto the bench as her eyes — gold light reflecting brightly in the dimming tavern-room light — watch Salli, then the strange newcomer.
As Salli and the locals switch to their own native tongue, Xing perks up. Always one to be interested in the sounds and tones of new languages, she listens intently. And the group can see her repetitively mouthing the strange words that were spoken.
Xing involuntarily flinches at the tiger comparison, sitting like a coiled spring until the strange woman appears. Realizing it was likely a metaphor, she begins relaxing, taking a long gulp to try to hide her reaction.
She scrunches up her face at the screeching of the strange instrument, but the woman’s voice is enthralling.
Yash didn't really understand what all the commotion was about and wasn't all that concerned as he continued to fill his mouth with food. That was until the spirit emerged from the floor. He looked around the establishment, and was somewhat marveled by the room's response. In his experience, most people became frightened by spirits, or hostile, but not in this case. It was perplexing.
As the performance began, he found himself enthralled, even from the first note. He even set down his meal and stopped eating, not even realizing it. Something about her voice spoke to him on another level. He found he couldn't focus on anything else. Suddenly he missed his grandfather very much.
For everyone ensorcelled by Saelihnriel’s voice… you find her song growing quieter, as if you are hearing it from a distance, and you are drawn into yourself. You blink to awareness in a dreamscape drawn from your memories. You still hear her voice but all your other senses are firmly in the here/now of your memories. Each song teases out a specific memory from your mind, a sharp moment of clarity when you felt alone, isolated, lost, betrayed, rejected, or grieving. Or perhaps a moment when you left someone else feeling that way. Big moments and little ones – from your earliest childhood to your recent days. Perhaps it was a death of someone you loved, or a parent who chose to not hug you when your child-self was heart-broken, or the doubts you have about yourself because of your bloodline, or the isolation you feel walking a path few can understand. You live the moment again and witness a phantom of yourself living through it. Outside of yourself, you watch the weight of the moment land on your phantom self.
Despite the raw sense of loss and isolation you experience reliving your private memories, you know that everyone in the Slattern is experiencing the same thing. Their memories are unique but this experience is not. And you feel oddly, whether due to the turnings of your own mind or the touchstone effect of Saelihnriel’s song, that this painful stroll through grief and regret is - in some way - a shared experience. It’s as if a voice is saying “You’re not alone. To be sentient is to know this pain.”
When the bard’s final song ends, you are snapped from your memories and find yourself back in the Slattern. The tears marring Saelihnriel’s inhuman face have barely crept down her cheeks, but no one else in the tavern can say the same. Nearly every face is copiously tear streaked now. Some people dab at their faces, not recognizing how tears got there. Some look to the ceiling, expecting something must have leaked on them. Others merely look embarrassed. You feel emotionally wrung out and also ‘lighter’, like a weight has been partially lifted from you, or perhaps that weight is now shared.
Saelihnriel watches the audience for a moment, her look unfathomable, before speaking. ”I was raised to believe that family and community are like gardens. I think this is true. But for a garden, or a community, to last through hardships and dry spells, it must sink its roots deep into the soil. Nothing sinks roots deeper than hard-learned lessons, like anguish or regret.”
Her point made, the bard adds "Good night." then drops through the floor with alarming rapidity. Instantly devoid of her glow, the tavern is plunged into temporary darkness until the lamps are unshuttered and a semblance of normality returns.
Xing comes back to the present, her tankard lifted half-way to her mouth. As those around her seem to do the same, Xing's countenance stiffens. She pauses, then takes a long pull from the drink. As she sets it down, she looks at the rest of the group for their reactions.
When she speaks, her voice is guarded, "I'm not sure how I feel about someone sifting around in my emotions. Maybe it's even nice to be able to share this experience this with those around us, but still ..."
She shakes her head and gives a forced smile, "I guess one cannot say Threshold doesn't keep surprising."
Mama comes out of the trance shaking clutching onto Lady like she was a log keeping her above a roiling sea.. Re-experiencing the deaths of so many loved ones... it was a lot, even if it was shared. She slowly turns back to the table.
Some surprises are bitter, some are sweet, some are both. I have had all three today. By the Ancestors what a day...
She slowly realizes she's holding the strong "tea" she got before the performance and throws back the whole cup like it's a shot. She slams the cup back down as the drink burns its way down into her belly. Oooooph.
Lady is effected a little differently compared to the humanoids in the crowd. She relives scenes as they do, yes, but she is also an animal, so those scenes don't quite reach the same depth of emotion as they do for, say, Mama Cookie.
She is empathic to Mama, however, and still comes out of the experience utterly exhausted by carrying both her own emotional turmoil and a part of Mama's. She doesn't say anything for now. She's just there as a rock for Mama to hold onto. A touchstone to prevent the old Halfling from getting lost in her own past.
Kat re-opens the bar and more than a few people order strong shots.
Salli wipes her eyes on her sleeve then starts making the rounds, checking on the stomachs and emotional states of her customers. Soon, she winds her way to your table. She picks up the platter with the carnage that was Yash and Lady’s meal. ”You folks alright?”
You aren't sure when Senna dismounted the gnoll's broad shoulders but she speaks with him quietly for a few more minutes before returning to your table. The singing must have affected her as well, as she is short of quips on her return.
Xing sets down her mug. "Thank you for asking. That was ... certainly an experience. Tell me, do you know if the song simply forces the listener to re-experience these memories? Or did the singer have any insight into what we were seeing and hearing while she sang?"
Regardless, Xing looks around the table, "Well, I feel a bit wrung-out." She elbows Senna, "What is the phrase ... buck up? The night is still young, if we want it to be."