"I'd really like to see the crafts fair," says Juranda.
"They usually bore me to tears," sighs Syovar, "but if you insist..."
He takes them into the tremendous courtyard of the castle. Rows of booths line the walls, and the aisles are jammed with people. The odor of steaming figs wafts through the air. Monkeys, wearing brightly colored jackets, perform juggling acts and acrobatic tricks. A band of lute players adds to the festive atmosphere.
The booths display a stunning variety of items. Some dwarves from a kingdom far to the south display finely woven silk fabrics of every imaginable color. At the next booth are intricate straw baskets and chairs. The next table displays an amazing collection of tiny, beautifully hand-painted pottery bowls, designed to hold magic powders and ointments. Each booth is more intriguing than the last, and they wander down the aisles until twilight signals an end to the crafts fair.
Syovar leads them to the sumptuous guest rooms of the castle, where Bivotar and Juranda quickly fall into a deep sleep. The next morning, Bivotar pulls Juranda aside.
"I think that maybe we hurt Syovar's feelings yesterday by not letting him tell us his stories."
"Now that you mention it, Biv, he did look a little hurt when we told him we wanted to go to the crafts fair. But maybe he'll agree to do it today instead."
"It's worth asking. I'd certainly like to hear him."