Swamped

You find yourself staring at a piano, which is barely holding together by the looks of things.

"What."

"Look, we ain't got a lot of entertainment options here," Crosswinds says. "Games are too competitive, which is asking for trouble with the kinds of people we get out here. We've got a sort of acting company, but they all have other jobs so they don't perform too often. And then we got this old hunk of junk."

"Does it even play?"

Crosswinds doesn't say a word. They just sit down at the keyboard and play... well, it's more than a little out of tune, but you can definitely recognize the song despite all that.

"Technically."

"So, what. You expect me to just sit here and listen to you play this piano for a few hours, assuming it lasts that long?"

"Hell no. I ain't got that kinda time. Besides, Strings is way better at this than I am."

Just as you're about to ask who Strings is, a woman in a Marshguard uniform walks in. You don't think you've seen her before.

"Well, you seem to be getting something out of your practice sessions, at least," she says. "I don't suppose you're going to explain who your friend is."

"Got that right," Crosswinds says. "But I can't have her go wandering around, so, I want you to keep her entertained."

Strings smiles.

"That's what I live for."

"Great. Catch you later."

And with that, Crosswinds vanishes, no doubt under the floor again. Leaving you alone with... well, probably the least intimidating person you've seen in this whole swamp. She's not even that tall as humans go.

"So!" she says, taking a seat at the piano. "Got any requests? Or shall I just give you a sample of my favorites?"