This was bound to happen, and by now Glitch is...resigned, and also less concerned, and also curious so when he checks the map and sees what bagoas has gotten up to he follows along.

Predictably he too comes under the (metaphorical) spell of the music, the melody tugging at some primal appreciation of yes good this is the sound of merriment and merry-making. Happy folk are to be found here, possibly none happier than the barefoot Persian dancing up a storm.

Well, at least until Glitch decides to stop watching, cast his coat to drape on a convenient sawhorse, and join in as well. Challenege accepted.