\begin{Verbatim}[commandchars=\\\{\}]
////Silenus, at the Stuffed Muff, from hours 11 to 23
///First encounter [Bard] \PYZdq{}Enjoy the ambiance.\PYZdq{}
A sort of centaur, but with features more like a goat than a horse, stands near the firepit with a long\PYZhy{}neck string instrument that he keeps strumming to add music to his tales, though also fills dead air with humming between stories. He\PYZsq{}s a young man, likely in his prime, with gentle green eyes that rest half\PYZhy{}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\PYZsq{}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\PYZsq{}t discern as history or fantasy. All the while, [if (met Leda) \PYZob{}Leda|a little girl with short limbs and a long torso\PYZcb{}] 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) \PYZob{}Leda|a little girl with a long torso and short limbs\PYZcb{}] is slung over his back like a wet towel drying on a clothesline.
/hour \PYZgt{} 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. \PYZdq{}Hear a tale, tall or true.\PYZdq{} possible concept to have a short poem for various partially real mareth events
/Random that the player hasn\PYZsq{}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\PYZhy{}legged lower body of a goat, standing [if (metric) \PYZob{}180 cm|5\PYZsq{}11\PYZdq{}\PYZcb{}] tall. His skin has a light tan, and his green eyes stay perpetually half\PYZhy{}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\PYZhy{}neck, stringed instrument of some kind, similar to a guitar. /*I imagine people prefer his penis equine, from his mother\PYZsq{}s side*/
//Stories \PYZdq{}Where do the stories come from?\PYZdq{}
As a non\PYZhy{}native of Mareth, you can\PYZsq{}t easily tell history from fiction around here, so you press to learn more of where the bard\PYZsq{}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\PYZhy{}\PYZhy{}that\PYZsq{}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\PYZsq{}t find truth in any one voice, but listen to enough of them, and you\PYZsq{}ll at least discover the shape of it.]
//Dancer. \PYZdq{}That\PYZsq{}s one crazy \PYZbs{}\PYZdq{}dance\PYZbs{}\PYZdq{} that girl has.\PYZdq{} disable if neither met Leda nor is she present \PYZdq{}You don\PYZsq{}t see a dancer.\PYZdq{}
/hour = 12 to 18
Glancing at the [if (hour=18) \PYZob{}child slumped over his back|panting child awaiting his next song\PYZcb{}], you\PYZsq{}re curious how the pair\PYZsq{}s \PYZbs{}\PYZdq{}performance\PYZbs{}\PYZdq{} started.
/else hours (no Leda present)
Thinking about Leda and her crazed style of dance, you\PYZsq{}re interested to know from Silenus\PYZsq{}s point of view how their whole \PYZbs{}\PYZdq{}performance\PYZbs{}\PYZdq{} 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) \PYZob{}and pats the dancer\PYZsq{}s head beside him|as he recounts it\PYZcb{}]. [say:She\PYZsq{}s a good girl, just dancing to good music!]

It seems a little dubious to call it dancing\PYZhy{}\PYZhy{}it looks like flailing. He also didn\PYZsq{}t tell you much of anything about her.

[say:Her story is hers to tell. And,] he looks away, trailing off, [say:I don\PYZsq{}t really know much about her or her little brother. Need I? She expresses her spirit and the energy is contagious, that\PYZsq{}s the soul of dancer!] He stomps his hoof for emphasis, clinking the rings around his ankle.
//Flirt. \PYZdq{}What bards are known for.\PYZdq{} Disabled 12 to 18 \PYZdq{}He doesn\PYZsq{}t seem apt to spare that much time.\PYZdq{}
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