Despite being in the same clothes as the rest of them, the -- sort of everything about him makes Teddy think the man is probably from an older time, than even the spackle-and-beam buildings and dirt paths in Solvunn would fit into their timelines back at home. The way he carries himself, dives happily into mead and meat, issues challenges in phrasings that even translated sound ancient. Something about his hair and build and the way he wanders in barefoot. If he were pale, Teddy'd guess maybe some kind of Viking or Celt, but his olivey skin makes them reconsider.
When he picks up a lyre, though -- first of all, music, and someone to play with! -- but also, the topic confirms her guess: Greek. He's handling the culture shock better than I probably am, she thinks, and goes to inspect the instruments.
There's a small assortment, most at least medievalish, and Teddy pounces on a mandolin, lifting it to his ear to tune and adjusting a couple of the strings into an alternate tuning to get the whole thing in Dorian mode without having to try too hard. It takes only a few minutes of quietly strumming, figuring it out with his head bent to the strings to get down the melody that the man's picking out.
After a minute, Teddy takes up a perch on a nearby table and lets the chords ring out with a smile, providing some depth for the melody and improvising some little extra grace notes between verses. They grin a little, tentatively, at the singer: there's always a bit of a thrill when they can find someone to play with, though they hope he doesn't think they're trying to pull attention away.
I.
When he picks up a lyre, though -- first of all, music, and someone to play with! -- but also, the topic confirms her guess: Greek. He's handling the culture shock better than I probably am, she thinks, and goes to inspect the instruments.
There's a small assortment, most at least medievalish, and Teddy pounces on a mandolin, lifting it to his ear to tune and adjusting a couple of the strings into an alternate tuning to get the whole thing in Dorian mode without having to try too hard. It takes only a few minutes of quietly strumming, figuring it out with his head bent to the strings to get down the melody that the man's picking out.
After a minute, Teddy takes up a perch on a nearby table and lets the chords ring out with a smile, providing some depth for the melody and improvising some little extra grace notes between verses. They grin a little, tentatively, at the singer: there's always a bit of a thrill when they can find someone to play with, though they hope he doesn't think they're trying to pull attention away.