////Silenus, at the Stuffed Muff, from hours 11 to 23
///First encounter [Bard] "Enjoy the ambiance."
A sort of centaur, but with features more like a goat than a horse, stands near the firepit with a long-neck string instrument that he keeps strumming to add music to his tales, though also fills dead air with humming between stories. He's a young man, likely in his prime, with gentle green eyes that rest half-lidded at all times. The only facial hair he has is a little brown tuft on his chin.

Finishing his melody, he smiles directly at you and introduces himself, [say:I am Silenus, dear [race], and you are?] In a cordial enough exchange, you note he called you by race, but you're not sure what to call his own. [say:I am half satyr and centaur,] the bard explains. [say:My father was drunk and thought my mother was simply a horse. Love is blind, my friend.]
//after first encounter [Silenus]
/hour = 11.
Silenus plucks at his small guitar while humming a tune, eyes shut.
/hour = 12 to 17
Silenus is strumming in tune with a song, telling a tale you can't discern as history or fantasy. All the while, [if (met Leda) {Leda|a little girl with short limbs and a long torso}] is rocking, twisting, and leaping like crazy.
/hour = 18
Silenus is playing a pleasant, consistent rhythm that is soothing, making you feel more at ease as well, and [if (met Leda) {Leda|a little girl with a long torso and short limbs}] is slung over his back like a wet towel drying on a clothesline.
/hour > 18
Silenus is pausing from his revelry to drink.
/merge
After a short time, he looks at you with his squinty, relaxed eyes and says, [say:[Name], care for a tune or tale?]
/*[Tale]*/ [Appearance] [Stories] [Dancer] [Flirt]
//Tale. "Hear a tale, tall or true." possible concept to have a short poem for various partially real mareth events
/Random that the player hasn't seen yet, then once all have been seen once, random from the whole pool. Like Telly [Chat] works.
//Appearance
Silenus is a satyrtaur with the top half of a man and four-legged lower body of a goat, standing [if (metric) {180 cm|5'11"}] tall. His skin has a light tan, and his green eyes stay perpetually half-lidded, giving his smiling, gentle, masculine face an air of peace at all times. The tousled brown hair on his head flows here and there with a healthy volume, but a short length, parted by the backswept horns of his kind, and his facial hair is only a tuft on his chin.

His fit and lean body is garbed in a loose drape of burgundy linen slung from one shoulder around his torso, and below that a quadrupedal body of a goat with fur matching his hair, ending in cloven hooves. Metal rings around one of his ankles allows him to make a clinking sound in a rhythm by tapping his hoof. He holds a long-neck, stringed instrument of some kind, similar to a guitar. /*I imagine people prefer his penis equine, from his mother's side*/
//Stories "Where do the stories come from?"
As a non-native of Mareth, you can't easily tell history from fiction around here, so you press to learn more of where the bard's ballads originate. He gives a pleasant lilt as it finds the words for you.

[say:In a tangle of branches and leaves, every eye sees a different silhouette,] Silenus explains in so poetic a manner. [say:Pluck the lessons and the beauty from the mess of misremembered accounts--that's my role.]

Seemingly anything can happen in this world, leaving you scant few details to identify flourish from fact. The bard does seem sympathetic, however, and suggests, [say:You can't find truth in any one voice, but listen to enough of them, and you'll at least discover the shape of it.]
//Dancer. "That's one crazy \"dance\" that girl has." disable if neither met Leda nor is she present "You don't see a dancer."
/hour = 12 to 18
Glancing at the [if (hour=18) {child slumped over his back|panting child awaiting his next song}], you're curious how the pair's \"performance\" started.
/else hours (no Leda present)
Thinking about Leda and her crazed style of dance, you're interested to know from Silenus's point of view how their whole \"performance\" started.
/merge
[say:Little ferret,] he says, reminiscent. [say:But another day as any, strumming and singing. The girl leapt over as if thrown!] Silenus laughs [if (hour = 12 to 17) {and pats the dancer's head beside him|as he recounts it}]. [say:She's a good girl, just dancing to good music!]

It seems a little dubious to call it dancing--it looks like flailing. He also didn't tell you much of anything about her.

[say:Her story is hers to tell. And,] he looks away, trailing off, [say:I don't really know much about her or her little brother. Need I? She expresses her spirit and the energy is contagious, that's the soul of dancer!] He stomps his hoof for emphasis, clinking the rings around his ankle.
//Flirt. "What bards are known for." Disabled 12 to 18 "He doesn't seem apt to spare that much time."