Beyond the Room
The Chain braced themselves as they filed through the smooth metal door and into the bright, loud chaos beyond. None of them knew what to expect when they did, but whatever notions they may have been considering proved incorrect. The space was Massive. Dazzling. All conceivable colors of the rainbow throbbed from a series of complicated looking lights that moved and spun set into a lofty celling high above. the celling itself was obscured by darkness giving the space a strange infinite feeling. A crowded throng, many score deep, of creatures seeming man and beast alike moved together to the beat, of the constant noise that seemed to come from everywhere at once. They were… Dancing.
A strange thing with the build of a man in a bright orange brocade jacket, but with the unnerving unblinking face of a (dead?) horse lolling slighting to one side noticed them and raised a glass, as if in toast to their arrival, as they moved past. Not knowing what else to do Time gave the beast a nod of acknowledgement as they walked by hoping to not offend the creature. After they passed it the horse-man then seemed to return to his previous gyrations with a furry blue beast of unknowable origin that also sported the glowing rings from their green ..'friend' in the back room. They moved in sync and seemed to be enjoying themselves quite a lot.
The floor beneath their feet seem to pulse with the same impossible colors as above in huge alternating tiles of light keeping rhythm. What it was made of could not be guessed as it was obscured by a thin, white fog that pooled and eddied about their legs as they moved but it yielded ever so slightly as they walked.
Time had been the first through the door and was shouldering his way through the seemingly oblivious group of strange revelers. What ever this place was they seemed to mean the group no harm (for now...) and were entirely fixated on the rhythmic booming..music(?). The Chain seemed to have stumbled headlong into the very heart of a ritual or a festival of some sort and he hoped they could escape the crowd without drawing further attention to themselves. These odd folk seemed peaceful enough, but experience told him that fanatics tend to react poorly when a spiritual rite is interrupted. He did not want to risk a hostile encounter with the natives if he could help it...
Time felt a tug at the hem of his tunic and looked to see a wide eyes Wind clinging to him. He looked further back and saw that the rest or the group, whether knowingly or not had done much the same, each reaching out to the comrade in front, gripping a shoulder or garment in a neat little train so as to not be separated while moving through the chaotic dancing mob.
When they finally made it to the other side of the huge room and into an open space they stopped and collected their breathe. Legend looked around back to the area they had just cleared and saw that many if not most of the people in that crowd looked very much Hylian, albeit in bizarre and colorful garb. Many of them sported those strange glowing rings…Were they under some kind of control? He looked around wildly and spied a long polished metal counter nearby with stools upon which a string of colorful patrons sat chatting amicably. Why... that could be nothing other than a bar! And not twenty yards from where they stood, Farore's Blessing! He tapped Time on the shoulder and yelled into his ear over the raucous din that he was going to try to get some information from the barkeep. Time nodded and them proceeded to e herd the rest of the group into a large unoccupied booth in a corner of the space to keep them together while they waited on their scout.
Legend strode up to the counter, trying hard to not look at the many strange alien faces around him. (He could have sworn the man sitting on the adjacent stool way actual quite literally Dead. Like...DEAD-Dead, with an ashen grey completion and what looked to be dried blood caked all over his dirty destroyed clothes.) The man looked at him with a bleary half-interest. And the Link did his best to ignore it fearing whatever kind of powerful dark magic was clearly at work here. He took a deep breath and raised a ringed hand to summon the barkeep over. When they arrived, he was somewhat taken aback. The man had long curved horns and bright red terrifying eyes. He seemed to be bare-chested beneath his apron and had the body of a cloven-hoofed beast from the waist down. A Satyr! He'd only seen them in tapestries. He'd never encountered one in person! The dead man's eyes drifted from Legend to the Bar-master with a renewed interest and shook his nearly empty glass hopefully. The Satyr took it without even looking at him and refilled it with a bored look from a spout in a series with ornate pull-able handles and handed it back to the dead man without flourish. His eyes were still on Legend.
"What'll it be, Buddy?" The man said in a soft, but not altogether unpleasant growl.
"Uh…Your finest Milk please?" The Link leaned upon the counter in what he hoped passed for nonchalance.
The dead man sputtered and coughed into his ale and gave Legend a quizzical look, its purple-shadowed sunken eyes now upon him again. The beast-man only stared.
"We don't have that…" He said flatly, his expression unreadable.
Link faltered, "I uh..uhn-"