Lelya danced through the room, one moment like a lazy summer breeze and in the next like the whirling gusts of autumn. She carried a light elven tune, and although her audience could not follow the words they laughed and clapped as she wove between them, and sometimes over them as she stepped across their tables. With a last spin and a flourish of her big shawl, she finished her number and all around her, cheers erupted. She allowed herself to grin and courtesy as she read the atmosphere in the room.
Cheerful. Teetering. Giddy. A few who has had too much ale. Time for a serene finale, I think.
Bringing out her lyre, she took her place by the fire and began singing a song of her own make. As she plucked on the strings she let a hint of vitner come seeping through her into the room. It was not enough to call the little spirit that would sometimes help her, but it was enough to calm her listeners, and she watched them relax around her.
Her eyes wandered over the group of her new co