<div class="floatleft">(https://i.gyazo.com/6db94c2012d2145f040e6b52109b0f7d.jpg)</div><strong>Han-Nan: The Lady of Masks</strong>(https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2145346)<br/><br/><em>At the Gilliam's Emporium</em><br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.gyazo.com/2551fa208050045cb6f1fd32951d436f.jpg)</div><br/>The Common Room of the Inn was starting to fill up with customers and activity.  In addition to the staff of the inn and the patrons, a richly clad performer had been quietly seated, gauging the comings and goings of the occupants.  Her robes were vividly hued, bold and filled with color.  Her face was hidden behind a stylized mask, a feminine visage of exotic sculpt, alien and unrecognized to this region.<br/><br/>Seemingly satisfied that more people meant a larger potential audience, the performer took a position to the emptier side of the Common Room, and began to weave illusions of a surface forest, lush and unfamiliar to most of the observers in the room.  Sectionated trees thrust up like temple pillars, punctuated by many leafed branches, creating shade and curtains of foliage in the area chosen as her stage.  The sounds of birds echoed throughout the illusion, while soft rays of sunlight pierced the canopy of leaves, creating a whole other world that contrasted so sharply to the interior of the inn as well as the caverns outside.<br/><br/>Having set her stage, the performer produced a small pair of drums laced to her belt, tapping them experimentally.  The reverberating beats echoed throughout the room.  Each strong thrum felt like a primal pulse, appealing out to each listener, be they goblin, goblinoid, or humanoid, something deep within each heart found itself called-to, as the performer chanted in an ethereal manner that accentuated the beat of the drums.  Like a ghostly lullabye, that haunting voice called out with each pulse in a manner that seemingly wrenched at buried memories of mothers, hearth, and succor...