The crowd is utterly spellbound by the gylou's performance. The usual dull murmur of noise falling away as one by one, voices fall silent as they listen. Scanning the common room, it's easy to see she holds their attention, with just one exception among them, the tana'ri. Still, another oddity did stand out, a bald, tattooed woman in the far recesses of the common room. Though she watched the gylou, her face was memorable for an utter lack of any emotional expression, any reaction whatsoever to the baatezu's performance.<br/><br/>With the last notes of her song drifting through the air, a hush fell over the common room... only to be broken by the succubus' lewd sense of humor. It certainly drew some attention away from the devil - even those who normally wouldn't find such a joke entertaining couldn't help but be amused, given how well she told it, and the demon earned more than a few laughs, not just from her table, but from those beyond. The beardless, hairless dwarf in particular gave an uproarious laugh, and a small, stony, statuette-like familiar of a mage in a turban made a loud, decidedly unpleasant snigger.<br/><br/>Only the odd bearded amalgam of spider and eel evinced no entertainment; it's possible that the species, whatever it was, simply lacked any context to understand the joke.<br/><br/>Still, it's clear that her attempts weren't quite enough to eclipse Lustiel's performance; the song appeared to have reduced the kobold to open weeping, though the poor creature did its best to keep its sobs quiet.<br/><br/>The men about Astarotte's table, though they certainly enjoyed the devil's melody, just as easily find their attention commanded by the demoness before them. Three in number, no more familiar with one another than they were with Astarotte herself.<br/><br/>One seemed human at a glance, attractive enough, though by no means as handsome as Astarotte was beautiful. His red hair and beard were kept short, and he grinned widely at the succubus as he twirled his shillelagh idly in his free hand, the staff marking him either as a druid, or perhaps a sorcerer touched by the fey... or perhaps a fey himself. It's hard to tell. "I wouldn't say no to both, lass, but if you're asking which I'd choose if I had to, it'd be the dance."<br/><br/>The dwarf at the other table seemed to agree, and though few were quite so openly vocal, Astarotte could feel the eyes of more than a few of the patrons on her... Though in the case of the odd mage in the corner wearing a<em>robe of eyes</em>, that seemed quite the forgone conclusion. She was certain, though, she held more of his drinking companion's attention than the mage did.<br/><br/>The other two at her table - one a human adventurer claiming to be something called a 'Pathfinder', as if that was supposed to mean something; the other an oddly blue-hued goblin, surprisingly intelligent - were about to give their votes when they were interrupted by the Neothelid's herald.<br/><br/>It rapidly became obvious which of the members of the establishment were new, or at least weren't regulars; most patrons could hardly tear their eyes from the sight, a few gaping at the sheer size of the sinuous creature as it slithered through the air. But a few-- a Rakshasa with matted fur, the turbaned mage with his familiar, the lizardman, the humanoid mantis, a mage only beginning to grey around his edges, and the odd bearded aberration seemed utterly unfazed by the neothelid's arrival, some even nodding in her direction, once she had emerged the blossom-like mouth.