"The thing is," Tierney says, "and you have to forgive me, here..."
"This was a bad idea," Gryff mutters.
"No, no, really, I think this is so great, I'm just really surprised..."
"I shouldn't have even mentioned it."
"See, you don't think of dwarves as being much for the music, and then there's the whole Ogre's Knee culture."
"Look, you're not gonna embarrass me, are you? Dammit." Gryff sighs.
"Yarr. Nemtotha fulchok har'gra'ka're?"
"What did the ring just say?" Tierney asks.
"Uh... Doesn't really translate. Look, I only agreed to this because you're a damn bard. Don't make me look bad," Gryff says. "[grumble grumble grumble] spent enough time in dungeon... [grumble grumble grumble] humans..."
"Alright, alright," Tierney says, hands up, "I promise not to embarrass you during, ahem, performance night at the Ogre's Knee."
...
For Tierney, it's a whole lot more dwarf than he'd been expecting. It's, well, it's primarily a dwarf bar, so that's kind of normal, but, you know, Tierney had been thinking of quiet dwarves, who sat and brooded, and maybe he'd get stared at in grim silence until Gryff vouched for him (raising the whole question of whether Gryff would actually do so, but hey, that's another story, and Tierney is only vaguely aware of what har'gra'ka're means), and then there'd be drinking. Tierney was ohsovery up for the drinking.
Instead, the Ogre's Knee is bedecked in a whole lot of different colors, and there's a lot of torches on the walls, and a lot of really drunken dwarves, and it's extremely loud, and, well, chaotic. Tierney isn't entirely sure whether he feels at home in this kind of chaos.
And also the singing. There's a dwarf on stage with a pair of, well, something with gravel in it, either a gourd or something, and he's shaking the gourd as he, well, sings. There's no other word for it. Well, no other noun. There are a great many adjectives. "Loud" would certainly fit. "Atonal" wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. "Bloody awful" would probably squeak by.
"...all da humans in da hood think they lookin' so posh, make me reach to my belt for my father's urgosh, with my glorious bod I am built like a god and you all must bow down to my rodomontade -- break it down!"
And then everyone is kind of shouting and waving their arms back and forth. Well, and axes. Arms and axes, both with the waving.
The dwarf on stage does a couple more verses, and Tierney is just starting to get the feel for it. Derivative of some of the fast rhythms of the Jade Plains declaritve epics, definitely, or maybe the other way around, given how old the dwarven singing tradition is.
"Right, that bloody sucked!" says a tall dwarf with dark red hair who is evidently in charge as he shoulders the singer offstage. "Our next performer is a member of the Twingate Guard. Give it up!"
The crowd roars, and then the next singer comes onstage. And then the crowd goes deathly silent.
She's swaying, stumbling as she comes into the lit circle, and she looks maybe a little dizzy.
"Clumsy as ever," Gryff mutters.
"Drunk," Tierney says.
The crowd is muttering, now, and the two can't make out the exact words, but it's a good guess that there haven't been many half-elves on stage tonight, and there's probably a pretty good reason for it, judging by the shift in moods. Tierney begins to feel decidedly out of place.
Leny coughs, takes a long drink from a tankard that she brought up on stage with her, and looks out at the audience. There's a long moment where Tierney and Gryff think that something might get thrown.
And then Leny sings.
"She wasn' quite as graceful as her sisters whe' she danced, 'Stead of pretty dresses, sh'walked aroun' in pants. And as Maraid got older, she had to face th'facts, While her sisters used their songs and spells, she'd rather use an aaaaaaaxe..."
"_Sky Queen's Blessing_?" Tierney mutters.
"Damn good song," Gryff says.
"I can't believe she's singing _Sky Queen's Blessing_."
"'Course, she's drunk. Which is the best way for it to be sung."
Leny has obviously never trained, and she's drunk to boot.
"Maraid just wanted... to be graceful like the rest, And she told the Sky Queen that she'd pass any test, If she'd only grant Maraid the wish she wished back then, She'd never ask... for anything... again...
"The Kind Lady's blessssings can be unanswered prayers. The purest form of wisdom, floating through the air, Just because she don' answer, don' mean she don' caaaaaaare. The Sky Queen's blessings can be unanswered prayers..."
Gryff nudges one of the serving women. "That one up there? How long's she been here?"
"Came in on Seconday evening," says the woman, a stout young dwarven lady. "Been in every night since. Just glad she's singin' tonight. Usually she just drinks herself under the table. Cup, cup and a half." The serving woman snorts.
"Let up," Gryff says, and the woman gives him a look, then shrugs and heads off. "Leny lost her hammer on Seconday," he tells Tierney. "Something with her church."
"Ah. God, she just mangled that note." The thing is, for some reason, the crowd doesn't seem to care. Leny's up there sloshing around, and actually, now that they're looking, both Tierney and Gryff can see that she's starting to choke up, too, but damn, the crowd is just eating it up.
"Then one day the giants... showed up in that ol' town..."
There's a roar of approval from the crowd on this part.
"The sisters screamed and tried to run, their father beaten down, Then Maraid took her axe out, and swung with all her might, Killed a dozen ogres in that bloody fight!"
More cheers, and some loud whooping.
"And Maraid looked at her sisters, and thanked the good Sky Queen, For the gifts that she was given, for every blessiiiiiiiiiing..."
This time, the crowd is singing the chorus with her. Loudly. It's a whole lot of dwarven singing, and Leny's hardly even singing any more, just kind of sniffling her way through it and swaying back and forth with her tankard upraised.
"The Sky Queen's blessings," she finishes, "can be unanswered prayers..." And as the crowd cheers again, banging axes on the tables and whooping, Leny gives a big smile, takes one last drink from the tankard, and then keels over.
"Or we could take her home," Gryff mutters.
"What? No, she's fine!"
"Bard!"
"I was gonna do Richal and the Fountains of Gorhil! It's a guaranteed hit!"
Gryff gestures at the still-cheering crowd. "Think you could follow that?"
"Right. I'll just get Leny, then."
"Humans... engardun fornum har'gra dellhairdin."
"What?"
"Nothing."
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