The Base / New Paphos

Rhythmic tapping is heard from one of the empty tables in the tavern.

Those who turn to take a look, discover that the noise comes from a pair of dancing hooves, connected with furry goat legs that end in a furry butt, adorned with a small tail that wags from side to side.

Above it, the skinny, pale body of a teenage girl, barely covered by a robe. Shaggy red hair, held back in a long braid, sharp-featured face, with a snubbed nose and lots of freckles. A smile that goes from one large goat ear to the other, and two curved horns on her forehead.

"Drunkards and inebriated from this magnificent establishment." she shouted at the top of her voice. "Allow me to intoxicate myself..." She paused thoughtfully, pretending to have made a mistake.

"No, that will have to wait a while. I mean, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nixly the Jolly Satyr and yes, I know what you're thinking. I'm the only one here that can compete with the bartender for whom has the hairiest ass."

She points to one of the patrons sitting at a nearby table.

"Oh, you laughed. You know the bartender's ass."

She makes a pause for the laughs and grabs a lute hanging from her back.

"This is to cheer up those with sad drunkenness. It's inspired by my mother and the night she conceived me with whoever my father was."

Nixly begins to play the lute, while singing a bawdy song about a female Satyr having fun at a party.

As she glances around at her audience, Nixly notices an elf who is grinning at her lyrics, almost but not quite laughing. He has a pointy face, pointy ears, and is dressed modestly and unremarkably in faded green and brown tunic and trousers. On the table next to him capers a miniature and slightly translucent version of Nixly! The illusion follows her gestures ...

A little offside, where light from candles and hearth is dim, somebody rests stoic on a stool. The silhouette seems of average height and weight. However, the outline stands out – it almost looks like as the bartender's orange cat has grown to men-like size and is dressed in a brown robe that once may've been gallant.

Whiskers twitch, the tip of a tail wiggles, and yellow eyes – which reflect the light – follow the dancing and singing Satyr's movement.


"What a jaunty contemporary this Satyr is! And a surprisingly nice change to most of the grumpy guards."


The creature starts purring.

Nixly's jaw dropped, when she saw her money being taken away.

She slung the lute back on her back.

"All right, after all, I sing for the love of art." She shrugged. "Not that I need to eat, or anything like that."

She noticed the small miniature of herself dancing on the table in front of a young elf and her eyes widened in wonder.

Nixly jumped from the table and sat down next to the boy.

"Wow, that's amazing." she said, admiring the illusion.

She moved the chair near the boy.

"How you do that? Can you teach me? What's your name? How old are you? Your parents know you're here? and another important question... Do you have money that you aren’t using right now? Cause I could put it to good use."

She noticed a beastfolk looking at her, from another table.

"How about you, good Sir? We, furry people, have to stick together."

"I think that wicker bowl is for you, sweetie," Eddisham answers the young satyr. "Don't be deceived by my elfin face - my parents long ago lost track of me in their senescence. My name is Eddisham. You are quite jolly, little Nixly. What skills do you have besides entertaining? I can't imagine that you got so far out of civilization by only singing and playing tunes."

The feline looking creature gets up and walks over to the Satyr and the Elf.

"Indeed. I do have the impression, that we're a little different amongst the crowd",

Shmautz says. His words are uncommonly accented, and every R sounds like a purr.

"Allow me to introduce myself."

- and he bows his head towards Nixly and Eddisham -

"I am Shmautz, from the clan of the Predator Paws of the tribe of the Sun Furs.

You're a great entertainer. I was delighted. But don't let your audience wait too long – I think they're expecting the show to go on. And it would be a pity, if they decided to escort you outside."

Shmautz lets his eyes wander over the crowd.

"Oh, your parents caught sinisense?" Nixly asked Eddisham with concern. "I hope they get better."

She crossed her arms and smiled.

"You have a good eye. Indeed, I am jolly, most of the time, but you can also find me glad, gay, content, blissful and satisfied, it depends on the day."

She put a hand to her chest and adopted a proud attitude.

"As for my abilities, I guess singing and dancing, needless to say, and being a satyr, I should of course mention f…"

She was interrupted when one of the serving maids placed a bowl with coins in front of her.

"Oh, look, the coins came back. I thought I wouldn't see them anymore." she greeted the bowl, waving a hand. "I missed you."

She became thoughtful, all of a sudden.

"What was I saying? Oh yeah! That, as a satyr, I count among my abilities fighting, of course."

She pointed to her forehead.

"It's not for nothing that we have horns."

She leaned back and crossed her furry legs on the table.

"That and f@*%ng, of course."

She heard the patrons around them, people asking her to continue with her songs.

At that moment, Shmautz introduced himself.

Nixly stared at him fascinated and, when he finished, asked him very seriously.

"Can I…can I scratch your tummy? Is that offensive among your people? I love cats so much."

People was again reclaiming her performance. Nixly raised her hands and looked around her, smiling.

"I'm on my way, I'm on my way. I see you don't get tired of the good stuff."

She turned to face Shmautz.

"Don't answer yet, I'll be right back."

She climbed back up on the table.

"I stopped singing, ‘cause I thought you’d all be lying down on the ground by now, but I see that you’re resilient to alcohol. Good for you. That reminds me of my great, great grandfather. You’ll be surprised to know that he was a human, just like most of you. The old man could drink like nobody else. One time he got so drunk at a party that he ended up f@*%ng the neighbor's goats and…" She moved her hands in front of her, indicating her body. "Here we are."

She took the lute from her back.

"This one is about a noble carpenter, admired by all the women of a town, thanks to his mighty tool."

She started singing another of her bawdy songs.

A rather muscular mid-sized male goblin with olive green skin and a rather grim expression makes his way to an empty table. He has what looks like a green lizard perched on his shoulder. Upon sitting down the lizard leaps off of the goblins shoulder onto the table. The goblin let's out a loud sigh as the lizard scurries off into a dark corner of the building.

"Stubborn little...."

He looks around the room, trying to see where to find a drink.

Degs wipes off what he hopes is the last of the mud Splatter on his face from an earlier encounter and nods with understanding. He appears distracted as he wearily scans the room of patrons. He glances at the table of his soon to be companions and takes a deep calming breath.

He returns his attention to Digsy. "Well, that is it then? They all came together on that boat? I guess I should introduce myself to 'em. I appreciate your hospitality and umm, sorry about the lizard..."

Dags graciously accepts his ale and begins to gulp it down in one go. He stands and makes sure to grab his empty tankard. He attempts to appear as tall as possible and walks as if miming what looks to be a court Royal. He locks gazes with a couple of patrons and forces a toothy smile that appears more menacing than friendly.

He finally reaches the end of the parties table. "Hello, I'm Degs. I'm guessing I'm the Goblin in the room. May I join yous?