"Now, ye'll want ta stand up good and straight," the librarian had lectured, her glasses down on the tip of her nose to survey Phelypsis over.  "No slouching now, if yer to be a valkyrie ye wanna do it proper.  Show 'em what ye've got, strike fear in their hearts, be a visage of beautiful death."  With a slam that set Phelypsis jumping (and bouncing, as per the gnome's goals), the session with the librarian ended and now Phelypsis had to deal with those consequences.<br/><br/>As soon as she had walked in, there were eyes on her and that doesn't seem to be coming close to changing.  There were even a couple of clinking glasses, two of the farmers who had masterminded quite a few of the costume suggestions, a couple of prickly old gits indeed, clinking glasses and raising cheers exceptionally hard.  "Oi told you!  Oi told you! Muuuch better'an savage warryer, tha'd just be the same sodden thing as always," was first heard when she entered, but now the old crooks are spending time just looking at all of the costumes around.<br/><br/>And indeed, there is a lot to look at.  Ayca making her rounds is drawing quite a few looks at her bare legs, normally she's a girl who wears pants, the look of pale, tight thighs as her skirts flick about her hips.  A dark complexioned Firakan woman with half-moon optics who frequents the bar has done away with her robes and now wears a startlingly low dress.  At a table a group of young men and women dressed as vampires appear to be playing some kind of a game that mostly involves flirting with each other and staring very deeply into each other's eyes.  On the other side of things, an impressively muscled half-orc has gone with traditional orcish clothing, a heavy loincloth that shows him off rather spectacularly.  Narkax the dragonborn chats amicably with twin wood-elves wearing butterfly wings who seem to be constantly tittering at the fact that the scholar clearly hasn't noticed that anything is amiss in terms of clothing.<br/><br/>Barnus watching all of this with a bit of distaste obvious on his face.  He is, of course, in his regular clothing.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1a/2e/2a/1a2e2a1595ab2f76887e376ede4bd505.jpg)</div>Riset cuts a rather dashing figure in his ceremonial dress uniform, sure to make farmgirl's hearts flutter, but not to the level of production that many of the people around him are.  He seems to be struggling pretty hard to not just stare awkwardly at Phelypsis, his beer in front of him held tightly in both hands, warming up steadily.  It seems that the thrill of the game was about all the game that he has.  His mouth opens to respond, looking over to the barbarian and just staring obviously at the metal plates for a second before making eye contact, "Oh, uh, it's standard issue.  You know.  For ceremonies."  His brow furrows for a second as he takes a sip of his beer.  "Which, I guess this isn't.  Technically, but you know."  He clears his throat a bit and gives a bit of a shrug.<br/><br/>Luckily, there are some guardian angels that are always ready to swoop in, "Phelypsis!" comes the happy call from Ayca as she swishes in close, placing a hand gently on the shoulders of Riset and Phelypsis.  "What a lovely costume and Riset, looking very fine.  Do you two need anything?  Mead? Something to eat?"  She purses her lips thoughtfully and then stands on tiptoe, looking behind Riset and giving him a nice eyeful of cleavage (though not to nearly the magnitude of Phelypsis), "Oh, I think Nuria's looking for you.  Sorry Rizz, I'm stealing your drinking buddy."  She gives him a sly wink and wraps an arm in with Phelypsis's to try to drag her away from the bar, leaning in to whisper, "Looked like you needed an escape, hope you don't mind?"