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It is a common night at the Fluffy Sheep Tavern in Trollsbane. Many townfolk and outsiders from different walks of life coming and going. Everyone sitting around enjoying a little wine and some conversation in their off hours.

Mah'dee Daye is there, of course, always looking for a crowd. On his feet he is, walking the room, greeting the people, having a good time.

Oh and what a night it is. A crisp clear sky filled with millions and millions of stars. But with the roof and of course the alcohol not many are likely to notice. Some, I am sure, would see nothing but a blur of lights and colors...perhaps even sounds inaudible to anyone with less than 6 goblets of elvish wine under their belt.

But the atmosphere is great, filled with life as giddy drunkeness floats through the air. Mah'dee seems to just be soaking it in.

He walks gracefully attempting to draw the attention of the entire room to himself. He speaks with the confidence of a thousand year old elf or a dwarven fighter on the battlefield. Ah, yes, just enough to spark the imagination and captivate the crowd with his character.

He tries to talk a little with everyone. Gauging the room for his impromptu performance. And when the timing is right...

*BAM*

There goes a chair to the floor with a crash bringing the entire room to a standstill. Even a pindrop would be drowned out by the sound of silence in the room.

Mah'dee waits just the right amount of time, playing dumbfounded, and then rises to the top of one of the bar room tables. There standing on the table he announces:

"I apologize, my friends, for this silly disturbance. But let me take advantage of this moment to share with you my heart."

He says with an expression of seriousness and compassion.

"I have been in and around this town for many years now. And it has been a pleasure to live and share with you these walls. And how great it is! Your men are mighty and your beautiful women number larger than the sands of the sea that surrounds us!"

He circles around with his arms out symbolically pointing out the waters that surround the island.

"You have given so much! So, my friends, allow me, your humble servant, to entertain you tonight with a poem."

He remains silent for a moment allowing the the pause to enhance the drama of the moment.

"Tonight I will perform for you the old orcish battle chant, 'Joor Blood'"

Again another pause before the reciting of the poem. He takes a deep breath preparing to reflect all the tones necessary to give the poem it's power. With his fist up in the air hitting the sky like a drum he starts..

"Meh and joo orc and joo and joo orc orc
We go together to the dwums of warfare
Go! *scream* Go! *scream*
Crush! *laugh* *laugh*
Our blood is on joor hand!"

His tones take on that of a real orc allowing for the emotion to fully be felt. The words fill the room with excitement, passion, and fear.

It may be joors for now. *snort* *grunt*
But all joor lands are belong to us!
Do cower! Do shiver!
Fear is what joo breathe now. *cackle*

The laugh cuts through the air like a dagger thrown by a skilled hand and then resides into silence before he continues.

So meh and joo orc and joo and joo orc orc
Bang da hands together an' breaks der necks
Joo be mangled by our stare
Fear us! *howl* Fear meh! *scream*

He of course saved the most ferocious and bloodcurdling scream for last.

Joor blood is on our hands!

He finishes still with the look of anger and boldness in his eyes. He then allows the emotion to drain out of him and regains again his composure as the smiling charismatic bard he is.

He circles again where he stands giving the audience a good look at himself and then takes a bow anxiously awaiting the response of the crowd.

Dusty was standing behind the bar at this time, awaiting customers, when suddenly a chair crashed to the floor. In Rapt attention he listened to the startling poetry, in astonishment. Astonished that such a poem would be exclaimed now, during this time of heightened fear among the citizens of Trolls Bane of some Orcs' recent bloodlusts. He begins to doubt his willingness to help the Orc cause.

With sorrow in his heart and blood chilled to the bone, Dusty closed his chests, gathered some wares, and quietly left for the sunny shores of Greenbriar to clear his head.

Mah'dee returns upright from his bow and has another scan around the room. Everyone is seemingly in thought, perhaps unsure what to make of the situation.

The sounds of the cricket can be heard in the background and then a cough and hesitant clap or two from some of the more courteous guests.

Mah'dee could not help but laugh at this point. An empathetic laugh on behalf of these humble townsfolk. A laugh, which when ended, left a bright smile on his halfway tilted head.

He steps down from the table in order to get on the same ground with the people in the tavern. He wants to be level, to identify with them before continuing his speech.

"My friends!" he says compassionately, "What is happening to us?"

He inserts a moment of silence allowing the question to be answered personally in the minds of the men and women in the crowd.

"Should we be encaged to fear in our own city? In our own mind? There have been some incidents, yes, where caution is due, where caution is noble. But when the joy of life has been stolen, replaced only by dread, then have we forgotten everything worth living for. And all for what? For fear?"

Mah'dee paces around the room while attempting eye contact with everyone present.

"And IF something big is about to happen, a raid or war or worse, then we have already lost. Is it not a tactic of the Orcs to inspire fear in their victims, paralyzing them, before taking their lands and their lives?"

Mah'dee sighs.

"But, my friends, I have come to know you far better than this. You will not be tied down! You will not be oppressed! You will not be conquered!"

His tone escalates into a passionate cry which could be heard even far from the tavern.

"I know I have said I offer you entertainment, but tonight I offer you much more than this. Tonight I offer you freedom. Take off your shackles! Release yourselves from this bondage! Say NO to fear and yes... to... LIFE!"

Mah'dee raises his goblet of elvish wine up far above his head.

"And to this we drink!"

Mah'dee day brings the silver goblet to his lips and consumes the whole thing in one large gulp. Several townsfolk brought their instruments tonight and he gestures for them to start playing.

As the music begins to fill the air, Mah'dee Daye begins to dance.

Norson jumps slightly at the sound, looking towards Mah'dee and claps slightly wwhen the chant is over. when the elf raises his goblet so does Noson, and he drink deeply then walks over to dance beside his friends