I. Freeze. I close my eyes and all I can see is the piercing bright lights burning into it.
I hear tapping. And… I hear animals. Screaming. Bursting my eardrums. A dart hits a board- someone yells about a loaf of bread. The noise fills my brain.
A low buzzing pours into my skull like tinnitus. Swearing in languages I don’t understand. Crying.
“Hey, hey, you don’t have to!” says the singer. She holds up her hands in a placating gesture.
“I’m fine.” I respond. My eyes slowly unfurl. I try to pretend nothing is wrong. I try to pretend they’re all not watching me with their prying eyes looking into me trying to figure out who I am why I am my age my origin my-.
In order to try and sell my bluff, I stand up. And after a trepidatious wobble… I climb up. Infront of everyone. So they can see me fuck this up.
I mumble to the singer. “I’m sorry. I’m going to mess this up.” I warn her. It’s a fair warning. I’m going to mess it up. And go speechless midway through or fall or misread the tone.
Wanderer seems interested in this topic. It may help him in his investigation, but there’s a part that would like to know so that he can maybe understand the place he’s found himself in better.
Among the people who talk about this, is there anyone who would ~seem to have more information or anecdotes on the topic while not being blatantly unpleasant to talk to?
“Come on, I’m sure you’ll be great!”
She blows a note on a pitch pipe and starts singing.
She’s taking the role of the sailors, leaving the simpler part, the role of the lake, for you. Theoretically, her role is to sing the primary melodic line of each verse, describing the sailor’s attempts at making their leaf actually seaworthy, while you harmonize and sing the chorus. In practice… well, how well are you singing?
(may I roll?)
(yes!)
edit: Rostlanders, not Issians! accidentally mistyped, it’s late 
There’s some kind of travelling peddler presumably staying at the inn, who’s defensively responding to negative remarks about the Rostlanders by saying that they make good customers?
18
Good enough that it is an extreme debate whether Canary or the singer is superior.
“Alright, everyone, let’s give a round of applause for our friend here!”
People in the audience clap enthusiastically. The person who originally requested the song throws a couple bits in the tip jar, and the singer flips you a silver link before ushering you back into the audience and returning to her regular repertoire.
Oh, what the hells.
“You speak of Rostlanders. Do you know what’s happening that’s causing many of them to come here?”
(can I get a sense motive check, for no reason?)
- A bit of sweat lowers from Canary’s brow into her wide open, grinning mouth as she finishes her song. She slowly- I snap back to reality upon the silver link being tossed into my hand and me being ushered off the stage…
Oh no was I upstaging her / That was… exhilarating.
(29)