#Lore24 – Entry #148 – Muckenmyre Month #27 – Entertainment and Invitations
From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.
The first of the songs I would hear that night came to an end with a round of applause and shouts for more as we descended to the common room. As we descended the stairs, I thought of the sound of their speech, and, though I hadn’t thought much of it during my earlier distress, realized that their way of speaking was much different from what I had been taught. They spoke with odd inflections, saying familiar words with different stresses on different syllables, generally spoke faster and almost with a slurring to the words, not to mention the many words I did not recognize and had to puzzle out from the context of the song. As their next song began, I would have to force myself to pay close attention to the words, which were just as familiar as they were strange.
I saw a few kerryn in the gathered crowd, dressed more like the people of Ryanathyr, dining with humans or dwarves or elves, and upon the stage in the corner of the room were the kerryn nomads, in their brightly colored sashes and ribbons, two men, three women. We had spotted Jessiryn and Augra in the opposite corner, and at his motion, came to their table as the next song began. He knew of my earlier distress, and I assured him that I was more or less back to normal and would explain myself later.
The nomad men and one of the women started playing their instruments, one a flute, one a lute, and the third a small hand drum, the second woman standing aside and humming along with the tune as the song began, the last beginning to sway slowly along with the music, ringing the small cymbals upon her fingers. After a slow buildup, the music sped up, the pace quickening as the singer’s voice strengthened and she sang, the dancer beginning to sway her body and show off her curves, shaking her hips and backside to the delight of the men in the crowd. Her dances were not entirely unfamiliar, and though I had some familiarity with the nature of the dance, the feel of the performance was entirely different. There was a different kind of passion at work behind their song and dance, a true love of the art, the desire to share their expression with the crowd.
As I watched, I began to listen more closely to the lyrics of the song, to process the inflections, tones, and subtle shifts in the way they spoke, the different way they phrased certain things to a dd a lyrical quality to the words that had never been part of the corruption of the language taught to me by the Stellae Illustris. The song told a whimsical story, of a traveler going from one town to another, and their many amorous activities along the way and the troubles that followed. During the especially bawdy parts, which were honestly rather tame compared to what I had experienced as a pleasure slave in my homeland, the dancer moved amongst the crowd, shedding her clothes more and more as she went until she was down to a skimpy, diaphanous outfit that barely hid anything.
The song shifted seamlessly into another, this one at an even faster pace and without words, which prompted the dancer to take to the bar and to the tables, effortlessly leaping upon them, gyrating and twirling about, her silks swirling around her, earning cheers for her acrobatic and erotic display. She made sure to visit each table, leaping between them, landing without disturbing the food and drink that lay atop them.
She visited our table last, dipping low toward me, and I heard her whisper “Seek us out after our performance, sister,” before she went twirling off to the stage once again as the song came to an end. Though I felt some amount of apprehension at the invitation, I likely would have done so regardless, though I was curious as to why she had invited me to join them. There was another, slower song following, then the singer took a break while the band played a jovial tune, and the dancer went amongst the crowd, collecting her discarded sashes along with any coin that was offered for their services.
My spirits had undoubtedly lifted by the time the kerryn had finished up for the evening, much of the crowd making their way out of the tavern at the late hour. As the entertainers took to their own table and finally sat to enjoy some food and drink of their own, I noticed that one more seat had been brought to their table and took it as confirmation of their invitation. I excused myself from my companions, Satella patting my arm encouragingly, and came to their table bowing in greeting, and speaking our language openly for the first time, though after hearing their songs, I felt as if I spoke it as a child speaking her first words. They were amused my formality as I introduced myself, and much less formally introduced themselves in return. The dancer was named Shani, the singer Kiri, the lutist Kinjo, the flutist Yukiyo, and the drummer Takeji.
Takeji admitted that he had witnessed me on the street earlier, saw my distress and sudden rush into the tavern. As he spoke, I asked him to slow down, for I had trouble following his speech, and explained to him that my knowledge of the language was only gained recently. He approached the subject gently but had surmised that I was originally from the Empire, perhaps an escaped slave. The truth was hardly as simple as that, but I explained the short version of what had brought me to Ryanathyr, noting how my dialect and pronunciations differed from theirs, even when they slowed their speech and shifted their words. They knew of a handful of others who had escaped from their slavery, not amongst their own clan, but encountered during their travels, said that they had stood out much like I did by their very formal ways of dealing with others.
We spoke for some time, not of the Empire, but of their journeys across the land, of the cities and towns that lay beyond Ryanathyr. There were many kerryn nomads clans as I would learn, but many more who lived amongst the other races in the cities and towns, and even cities and regions that they called their own, that they ruled for themselves. I could hardly believe what they told me to be true, but my inquisitor’s honed perception told me they spoke no words that were not true, or at least, that they believed untrue.
Before any of us knew it, midnight had come and gone, and our fatigue had grown considerably. Takeji extended an invitation for me to visit their caravan the following day, to speak to their clan elder if I wished to know more about them or their histories. I was undeniably curious to know more, and accepted, seeing them out of the inn before I too retired for the night, my companions having done so much earlier in the evening.