Prologue: The Barony of Harkenwold

Carlos, fiercely ignoring his heart trying to pound out his throat while trying to project the very image of casual tranquility, walks briskly up the stairs leading to the guest room hallway. Rounding the bend, he finally catches up to Zoe as she walks towards her room. As he shortens the distance to about a half dozen steps, he casually calls out - "Hey there."

Zoe, who had been humming to herself up to this point, stops in surprise, before slowly turning around to see Carlos. She says, "C-carlos! Hi!" She sighs in relief, adding, "You startled m-" Not letting her finish, Carlos gently, but firmly, grasps and pulls her into kissing range, and deeply plunges his lips into hers.

When she realizes what is happening. Zoe leans down into the kiss, meeting Carlos' lips with her own. She pulls him tight, completely caught up in the moment. By the time they break apart, they are both hot and flushed. Zoe smiles and runs her fingers through Carlos' beard as she says, "Wow, where did that come from?"

Carlos grins - "Why, i jes' wanted to kiss you."

"I am very kissable," she says, nodding sagely.

"Aye, you are. S'why i did it." - His grins gets a bit more sly. A few awkward seconds pass by while she waits for Carlos to tell her what he wants to do next.

"I... didn't really have any more of a plan." - his grin, though not losing in confidence, nevertheless becomes slightly apologetic - "I mean, i thought of the obvious, but... bit too fast?"

She looks away and says, "I'd say it is if you needed a plan."

"Oi, c'mon. " - he coaxes - "Ya mean more ta me than some hot date at a bar, Zoe. I get it, i know you well enough by now ta know you'd like it better if we'd just get lost in it and not come to our senses till we couldn't move anymore, an' i'd like it too." - he rolls his eyes for a second as his imagination takes a peek - "Ooh, i'd like it. I jes' think some things are worth takin' the time, or i'd have walked up to you an kissed you a whole lot sooner. I know i wanted to, prob'ly should have too. Maybe i am too careful with you, but... well, s'just how much i care." - he concludes that last part trying not to look any more flushed.

She frowns as she listens to him, but stops to really think about what he is saying before answering again. When she begins speaking she isn’t as confident as she usually is, saying, "You think we might become serious then. I’ve never actually been in a serious relationship."

"Yeah, those...." - he trails off with a sigh - "Those'll do a number on ya. A whole lot easier ta jes' keep it simple, but who am i kiddin', i couldn't if i wanted to. When we first met, sure, i had bouncy thoughts, but i'm past that now. You didn't really believe me when we talked back at Eyton's grove, when i said i'd stand in the Hunt's way if ever they came for you, but i meant it. Just like you couldn't let it lie when your cousins were torturing them genies an' djinns, i won't let'em touch a hair on your head unless it's over my dead body, that's just the way it is. And when i say that, i know i mean it; that's jes' how i feel about you."

"You do, don't you?" She finally concedes, shivering a little. She hugs him, saying from his shoulder, "Thank you. Avandra truly blessed me when you came into my life." He wraps his arms around her, embracing her back.

"Goodnight," says Zoe one last time before blowing him a kiss and slowly shutting the door to her room. Carlos stands there basking in the moment, the rush of returned feelings and the promise of a new relationship. As it begins to fade, he makes his way back to the stairwell and on to the party, determined to complete his final bit of business this night.

He finds Ara outside in the Courtyard, talking to her friends Bobble Flomsby and Shandalar. Carlos raises his hand in greeting as he approaches - “Oi guys! S'up?”

"CARLOS!" exclaims Bobble, going in for a handshake, "You MUST share a DRINK of CELEBRATION with I, BOBBLE FLOMSBY, before the end of the PARTY!" Shandalar returns the wave with a sharp-toothed grin, as Ara says, "Hello."

Carlos takes Bobble's hand in a high powered handshake ending in a high five - “Got anythin' 80 proof?”

"Not YET, friend CARLOS, not YET!" Bobble immediately starts walking towards the booze table to inquire about such things, causing Ara to laugh. The druid says, "He'll turn the castle upside down looking for that drink."

Carlos chuckles - "He meet Illiana along the way, they'll blow it up an' make it grow wings fer good measure." - then he thinks about what he just said - "I'm scared what'll happen, but i gotta introduce'em sometime."

"Bobble wouldn't do that, would he?" says Shandalar. The three of you continue to watch the little gnome, as he begins making friendly demands from the confused castle staff. Shandalar raises an eyebrow in concern when he begins hopping up and down and repeating himself louder than before, finally running over to help.

Ara watches her go, shaking her head and saying to Carlos, "Best let her handle it, she needs the practice." She sips her wine as she regards Carlos carefully, finally saying, "Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I sense this is more than just a social call. What do you have on your mind, Carlos?"

Carlos is taken slightly aback, but not surprised at Ara's sharpness - "Ah, well... i was lookin' forward ta that drink an' tha's the truth, but..." - he thinks how best to say it - "Well, 'spite how we really had ta let ya know about... well, Nesme, i can't help but think we coulda gone about it better." - he checks himself again for a moment - "Though then again, i guess there was really no easy way ta say it. From how hard ya took it, i'm guessing you were friends, uh... well, i'm sorry. You know, i guess i never really got to know the real her but i'm sure she woulda made a much better impression."

Ara, looks at the wine in her cup, while she thinks about what to say to that. She finally says, "Nesme never really had friends, but I respected her. I'd say we all did in our own ways. She was a hard woman, and she expected much, but nothing she wouldn't expect from herself. It's hard to believe that anything could take her down, it felt like she'd always be there, fighting to protect us, her people. That the thing that killed her would dishonor her legacy so...it's an abomination."

Carlos takes it in before replying - "Aye, it is. But it won't tarnish it much longer, eh. We'll make sure o' that." - he reassures.

"How do you even kill such a thing," she asks, before sipping her wine again. "I have half a mind to leave and find out."

"Ah... s'a whole big shoppin' list 'cross the Realms ta even have a crack at it. We gon' do it, just... gonna take a bit o' doin'. Need ta go ta the Shadowfell an' the Feywild both, fer one."

"Wait, wait, wait," she says, holding up her hands to slow him down, "You already know how? When did you have time to research this?"

"Right, uh... sort o' called in a favor? Got a friend knows a lot 'bout these things, on the condition i don' ever talk about 'em. One day i might be able ta tell ya who, but right now... s'really important i keep mum, Ara. Sorry."

She thinks about that before following up, "And you trust this friend and their information? You know that this method will work?"

Carlos thinks about it for a moment - "Came through fer us before, and they also don' want the Vale becomin' a Goblin playground, i can tell ya that. Nothin's ever fer certain but i trust'em, yeah. As fer this workin', well..." - he thinks about it for a second - "It makes sense when ya put it all together, an' i trust they know what they're talkin' about. And well... s'just too elaborate ta be a prank, really."

"Can you walk me through the process? I'll understand if it's a secret," she says.

"Well it is, but i was gon' get around ta askin' fer yer help. 'Tween me, Zoe, Jo, Hunter an' Kat, ain't no way we'll be able ta pull it off alone. But..." - he looks around - "Mind we go inta that some other time? S'just..." - he waves to his side - "Party, ya know. Ain't the best place. 'Sides, we all drinkin' and merryin' and bein' silly fer a while. We'll have time enough ta get grimm, i'm sure a'that."

"Why don't we talk about it tomorrow then? I have lessons in the morning but I'm free in the afternoon. I'll fly over and we can talk here," she says eagerly.

"Sure thing, works fer... wait, you can fly over?"

She grins and points to herself, "Druid, remember?"

Carlos grins back - "Heh, right."

During the first half hour or so, Hunter munches on bread and meat while Kathryn and the others make small talk, and scans the guests for his grandma. He casts a look in Shandalar's direction to see how she's getting along, and easily spots Symania where he last saw her - at the signing platform, with the Lord and Lady of the Keep, the new Elder, and Kat's brother and sister-in-law, near the wine and ale on tap. He nods and toasts with a smile, and then casually excuses himself to refill his ale on the way to the signing platform. He smiles and waves at them while he refills his cup and joins them. “Hey guys. What are we talking about over here?"

"I'm trying to steer us away from work, is what we are talking about," jokes Lady Emily, causing the others to laugh with her, "But the Elder was just enlightening us on the importance of the deer migration patterns to their way of life."

"Did you need something Hunter or did you come to drink with your Grandma?" says Symania, grandma-ing hard, "You are more than welcome to."

Hunter smiles. "You see right through me as usual. Both, but I wouldn't mind sticking around for the nature lesson. Go ahead, Alani."

The new Elder raises her cup of wine in acknowledgement, saying, "They migrate every spring and fall to the ranges they'll use until they repeat the process again. One of the many problems we'll likely have going forward with Daggerburg is access to these areas, as deer tend to bunch up on either side of the border between our lands and the former Iron Arrow lands, depending on conditions. One side or the other could find themselves down a significant amount of food, doubly so if it happens in winter."

Stockmer says, "We'll be ramping up planting going forward, but such things cost money. If the Moondancers could trade something of value for it, that would go a long way towards enriching both our peoples."

"Perhaps we could come up with some ideas for that over the next few days. I'd love to borrow Lonetree and pick his brain about it," says Symania, looking at the Steward.

He says, "I'd be pleased to. Work out the details with Griffin later and we'll see about addressing this as soon as possible."

"Work, everyone, work," chides Emily, reminding them that they are at a party, "Surely we can hold a conversation about anything else? Just for tonight?"

Into the silence that follows Stockmer finally says, "How about a dance, Emily?" His surprised wife almost spits out her wine.

"But you hate dancing," she says, drawing a self-depreciating shrug from the Lord.

"Yeah, but you don't," he says, offering to take her hand, "Dance with me." She smiles and puts her hand in his, causing him to lead her away and towards the band. A moment later, Sorsha is playing something more conducive to dancing, and the Lord and Lady of Harkenwold are cutting a rug through their courtyard, drawing others to join in.

Hunter looks on. "Man, I have terrible timing," he comments to Symania. "Do you want to go dance? I can find you later."

“I wasn’t planning on dancing,” his grandma says quietly, “If anything, now’s the time to say what you have on your mind.” Hunter looks to the others and realizes she is right. Griffin and Holly have joined in the dancing while Alani and Lonetree are engrossed in a private conversation, probably about work.

"Well, I gave Kat the flower," he says, lowering his voice. He inches just a little further away from the Elder and the Steward. "We're fine now. A lot sooner than we would have been."

"That's great news, Hunter," she says, hugging him.

Hunter hugs her back. "Yeah. Kathryn is fine now, and I want to make it up to Shandalar too. You told me to leave them alone until they got better, but she's only gotten angrier. She hides it well, but it's there. What should I do?"

"Leave her be, for now, and wait for a more opportune moment," says Symania almost immediately.

"I don't think it's about me. She's feeling the pain everyone else in the tribe is dealing with. But I know she has a reason to be mad at me. There's nothing I can do to help?"

Symania shakes her head, saying, "Not you, no. You aren't her friend, Hunter, though you want to be. It does you credit that you want to help, but It's not your place."

"Alright…" His tail ripples while he thinks. "Who then?"

"She's closest to Ara and Bobble," says Symania, not missing a beat, "Though I bet she'd listen to anyone else in your immediate party."

Hunter nods. "Got it. Kat maybe could... Oh, what about Uncle?"

"Yorenan? I could see him involving himself if he notices her pain. It's definitely something he'd do," says Symania, clearly proud of him.

"Yeah, I can definitely see him doing that," Hunter agrees, with a smile that can be best described as suddenly hopeful - and knowing - before moving on. "Ara could help just by sticking around. I know I said that she may have to travel, but I also think that her staying will be vital to the needs of Harken - and all Woodsingers."

"All of the Woodsingers?" says Symania, considering it, "I don't know about that, Hunter. While Ara could do it, she's never been interested in that kind of leadership. Add in recent events and I don't think she'd be willing to be Hierophant."

Hunter paws the back of his neck. "Maybe I'm not as familiar with this as I thought…"

"I think Alani is right," she says, "Ara has taken a step back from her leadership duties but she's already training more druids. That's probably the best we can hope for, at least for now. I'll see about having a word with her after things settle down some, try to get a feel for where she's at. It might be that time is what is required here."

"You know her better than I do, I'm not sure I could say anything smart about it. Other than that, well, her friends wouldn't forget it if she stayed…" He coughs. "So, Nonnie put me on a task. I gotta go and visit our relatives in Darden."

Symania’s countenance turns sour and she says, “Why would you want to do that?”

Hunter raises an eyebrow. "Because of the war, of course. Nonnie said that we all need to be united now, and I agree. The rifts have lingered for too long."

"Well, good luck getting Rowan or Gus to agree. They made their feelings perfectly clear at the wedding and when they disowned your mother," she says.

Hunter falters. "What...? They only had a hang-up with your marriage. Didn't they?"

Symania looks uncomfortable as she realizes Hunter doesn't know. She says, "I'll talk about Tolliver and our marriage till the cows come home but what happened between them and your mother is her story to tell. I suggest you ask her when you get back to Fallcrest. If you still want to try to make peace after, at least you'll be walking in with a greater picture of how things stand and why."

"Jeez, and here I was ready to dash off there in between our visit to Albridge." He shakes his head in disbelief. "It's about race, isn't it?"

She sighs, torn whether to say anything or not. She finally says, "I think so, yes. They never called him names in my hearing, but it colors their outlooks and inclines them to see the worst in Bravo while minimizing his good qualities. I'm loathe to say anymore without your mother's permission. I'm not one for gossiping."

Hunter considers continuing about his own experiences - few and far between - when training brought him out that way. "Alright, I'll drop it." He smirks at her, and continues barely above a whisper, "Forgive me. Such idle chatter is beneath members of royal station."

She makes the same face at him that she flashed at her party after the trial last time he joked about this, and says, "Ugh, there you go again. I regret telling you about my namesake now."

He snickers and looks at the folks dancing, and finishes his drink. "I'll make it up to you. Wanna go dance?"

She shrugs and says, "I can hardly say no to my grandson, can I? Lead on."

He shakes his head, smiling. "You can always say 'no' to your dorky grandson! But nevermind. Come on." He takes a couple steps toward the dance while holding a hand out to her. Smiling, she takes it.

The night of the signing ceremony continues...

Having just finished his conversation with Ara, Carlos and the druid spot a sad Bobble returning in defeat with Shandalar in tow. The little wizard says, "DISASTER, friend CARLOS! The STRONGEST alcohol on HAND was WINE! BOBBLE FLOMSBY has FAILED!"

Carlos is actually surprised by that fact - "Whoa, wine? Really? How's anyone gon' get drunk?"

"BOBBLE FLOMSBY has no IDEA! WHAT a DISASTER!" he says, pulling on his hair. Suddenly, he lets go and points to the heavens in emphasis as he says, "NO! THIS will NOT stand! BOBBLE FLOMSBY WILL SAVE THE PARTY! EVERYONE, follow BOBBLE FLOMSBY!" Bobble whistles for his flying carpet, which zooms over from the roof of the smithy to alight in front of him. The little gnome steps onto the carpet with determination and says, "GET ON!" Ara hesitates, torn between leaving the party with her friend and trying to talk him out of it but Shandalar has no such compunctions and sits down on the carpet behind her friend.

"Come on you two!" She says eagerly, excited to go flying on the magic carpet on whatever this adventure turns into.

Carlos... shrugs, wide-eyed - “S... sure!” - and steps onto the Magic Carpet

As Carlos takes his seat behind Shandalar, Ara looks into the determined eyes of her friends and comes to a decision, saying, "What the hells, why not?" She gives her wine glass to a nearby stunned onlooker and gets herself in position behind Carlos, saying, "We'd better all hang onto each other, it gets pretty hectic."

"BOBBLE FLOMSBY, AWAY!" says the little gnome giggling in pure joy, leaving no time for such things. The carpet lifts into the air just over the heads of the partygoers, before zooming towards the gate. The momentum forces Shandalar to grab onto Bobble, even as she howls in triumph, while Ara holds onto Carlos for dear life.

“Th... this always how it is!?” - Carlos shouts, not fully comprehending the turn that the situation just took, yet not daring to let go of Shandalar, lest this become his first unaided flight - and his last.

"Yes!" says Ara, laughing, as you guys zoom out into the night. You hear gasps and screams from the crowd below, along with Illy shouting, "Wow! Look John, a magic carpet!" The lights twinkle from the lamps down in the village and from the various camp fires through the refugee camps but it's a short flight, Bobble directing his carpet down the hill to the northwest, towards the Cliffside Brewery. Carlos instantly recognizes it as such from its dwarven architecture, not dissimilar to his aunt's brewery back in Mithrilfast. The tall building is two stories high and made from a combination of bricks, wood, and stained glass windows depicting the gods and the mortal races imbibing spirits together. Bobble directs the carpet towards the northern end of the building, where the home part of the brewery is located, before coming for a landing next to a wagon. A pair of draft horses comment on his landing from the nearby stable, snorting at the disruption to their sleep. "WE are HERE!" announces Bobble, in his usual theatrical style.

"WE sure ARE, OI!" - he proudly shouts right beside Bobble, before leaning toward him and asking in a more hushed tone - "Where we at?"

"Ser Cinnamon was just about to ask the same thing!" says the little armored petal knight, flying into the lamp light of the brewery's porch.

Everyone is surprised to see her but Ara quickly bows respectfully to her, followed by Shandalar and Bobble a moment later. Bobble says, "THIS is the home of BOBBLE FLOMSBY'S FRIENDS, the MORALES FAMILY! THEY make BOBBLE FLOMSBY many GOOD DRINKS!"

"Ser Cinnamon loves good drinks! Yay!" says the little fairy, puling loop-the-loops in the air.

Carlos raises an eyebrow and frowns the other - "Wait, where were y.." - he notices his party bow to the fairy, blinks, then shrugs and bows hurriedly - "Where were ya till jes' now?"

"Dancing, until Ser Cinnamon saw you fly away! Flying's the best, but then you landed here!" she says, "And now I get good drinks! Yay!" She starts flying around you guys really fast, she's so happy.

That's when you guys hear a woman yelling from the window of the second story, "What in the Nine Hells are you doing yelling in the middle of the night, Bobble Flomsby!" She follows this recrimination with a string of dwarven expletives about you lot and your hippogriff mothers, fit to peel paint and make a sailor blush. Despite her penchant for colorful cursing, she's a pretty dwarven lady, with raven hair and a sun kissed face, dressed in a rose colored night gown with a floral pattern.

Ara and Shandalar are stunned into silence, while Ser Cinnamon lands on the back of Carlos' head, to try to hide. For his part, Bobble blushes bows, and then places his hand on his heart and extends his hand towards the lady, saying, "GOOD evening, PILAR! IT is I, BOBBLE FLOMSBY, come to BEG for JAUN'S HELP, to save a PARTY!"

"I'll party you, Bobble Flomsby!" she says, followed by another string of curses that would cause a troll to combust. She follows that up by shouting back into her room, "Juan! Juan! How can you be asleep right now! Wake up! Wake up!" She pokes her head back in and a few moments later her husband Juan sticks his head out the window, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. His blonde beard and bushy blonde eyebrows cover up most of his face, but his mouth cracks into a smile as he recognizes Bobble.

"Look Pilar, it's Bobble!" he shouts.

"I know, you deaf stump! Go get rid of him!" shouts Pilar from inside their room.

"What?" says Juan, finally holding an ear trumpet up to his ear, to try to hear her. He gives up and disappear inside, where they continue to shout at each other,

Bobble proudly smiles at you all, saying, "Juan Morales is THE BEST brewer IN Harkenwold!"

Carlos raises a fist in greeting - “Heyo, Señor Morales! Me an' me posse were tryin' ta have us some nice drinkin' at a party, buh they din't haf anythin' stronger than wine, so Bobble jumped on that carpet an' we jumped wit'him and now we here! An' we ain't even drunk!”

A different second story window opens and another dwarf sticks his head out, yelling down, “ Can’t get drunk!? I’ll be right down!” This dwarf is very much the brother of Juan, sharing the similar eyebrows and beard but with auburn hair instead of blonde. You guys are met at the door a minute later, where the new dwarf says, “Welcome to the Cliffside Brewery. I’m Juan’s brother, Juan Diego. Any friends of Bobble are welcome here. Come, I’ll help you out.” He closes the door behind him and leads the way with a lantern towards the brewery while you guys introduce yourselves.

“What happened to Juan?” asks Shandalar, “He doesn’t seem to hear very well.”

“He got married!” answers Juan Diego, laughing at his own joke. Shandalar just blinks at him, confused.  

"She young an' innocent, oi." - Carlos chuckles - "Mastah Morales, me an' muh friends here find ourselves a tad too sober, an' i got a couple lovebirds over at a party back there that won't get anywhere without some liquid courage, it's loco. So we all got on a Magic Carpet and flew here, 'magine what we'll do when we're tipsy!"

"You came to the right place then!" says Juan Diego, digging a keychain out of his coat pocket, and begins fiddling with them and the lock on the door leading into the brewery.

"Good drinks, good drinks, all for you and me!" sings Ser Cinnamon from Carlos' shoulder.

Meanwhile Ara says to Bobble, "Do you often drop in on them unannounced?"

"ONLY in EMERGENCIES," he answers with a grin.

The lock finally gives before the correct key, allowing Juan Diego to lead you all inside the brewery itself. The smell of dried hops and malt is strong in the air, as is the smell of the casks the finished beers and ales are stored in for aging. Three great vats take up most of the room, and the casks are stacked on shelves two stories high. The dwarf asks, "How drunk are we talking here?"

Carlos thinks for a moment - "Well, i'm jes' about the only one in this here party that can't fly, figure might as well fix that. Somewhere around 80~100?”

“Ah, true spirits then,” nods Juan Diego in approval. His grin turns mischievous as he says, “I happen to have a whiskey I’m working on, not ready for market mind you, but I wouldn’t mind some field testing. Are you lot up for it?”

Carlos considers this for a split second, then concludes - "Even if i'm not, s'why it's called testing, innit?" - his grin being quite unequivocal.

"Hey, that's the spirit!" says the dwarf, clapping Carlos on the back while he laughs at his own pun. Ser Cinnamon cups her hands and starts booing at him as everyone stares at the dwarf over how lame that was.

Almost everyone, as Carlos finds it quite hale and hearty - "Hah!"

“Hey, you’re all right, Carlos,” says Juan Diego, laughing his way to a barrel marked “Whiskey Test Group D.” He takes up a nearby jug and holds it under the tap to begin filling it up. It takes a while, but Carlos is finally presented with a 4 liter jug of Juan Diego Morales’ Experimental Whiskey. He walks you guys back out to your carpet, where you find Juan waiting for you. He says, “Pilar decided to lay down again! How are you, Bobble?!”

Bobble jogs over to his friend, saying, “BOBBLE FLOMSBY is good, DEAR JUAN! WE were able to FIND everything WE NEEDED, thanks to JUAN DIEGO!”

“That’s great,” yells Juan, “Let us know how your party goes!”

“YOU have BOBBLE FLOMSBY’S word, DEAR FRIEND!” replies Bobble with a gallant bow. He whistles his carpet over again, allowing everyone to get situated, before flying you off back to the party. The last you see of them, the Morales brothers are waving you goodbye, which all of you return with various levels of enthusiasm. Bobble directs the carpet back to the castle, through the gates and over the partygoer’s heads, causing another ruckus amongst the surprised guests, before coming for a landing in the clear area near the Nerathi Bath. Your appearance draws many to you, including Bill, Sarah, Illy, and John.

Illy rushes forward to look at Bobble’s magic carpet, even before any of you can get off, which she begins gushing over, “Look at that pattern! And the seals are so complex! John, this carpet is amazing!”

John shrugs at you guys in apology and says, “I’m sure it is, but you should let them get off first before you ask if you can look at it.”

“Oh, right,” she says, taking a step back.

Carlos steps off - "Ain't it cool? An' here' the man done built it, BOBBLE ta the FLOMSBY." - Carlos takes a step back, in order admire the chain reaction.

“That’s RIGHT!” says Bobble, springing to his feet in front of Illyana, taking her hand, and bowing just low enough for his face to be near her hand but not touching it, as is only right when doing so to a young lady, “It is I, BOBBLE FLOMSBY, POTION maker, TINKERER, and GENTLEMAN of MYSTERY!”

“Oh!” says Illy, overwhelmed and flustered by the welcome. She manages to say, “I’m Illyana and I love potions and tinkering, but I don’t know what a gentleman of mystery is! Did you have to go to school for that?”

“ONLY the SCHOOL of life ITSELF!” answers Bobble, not missing a beat.

“Wow! I have so many questions!” she says, pulling out her experimental journal and a writing quill. “How long is the program?”

“It NEVER ends, DEAR ILLYANA!” says Bobble, pointing to the sky for emphasis.

“Fascinating,” she says, scribbling some notes into her journal.

As they continue their silly line of inquiry, John says to Carlos, “Hey, where did you guys go, anyway?”

"Muh man, this here thing's so fast, i couldn'a give ya directions." - explains Carlos, hefting the payload - "S' the Morales Brewery. Heard of it?"

"Yeah, Cliffside. Been there for ages. They're the local brewers. Ma orders a lot from them for the bar," says John, "Is that where you got that jug from?"

Carlos grins - "Oh, this here's experimental, so said Juan the Diego. Ya feelin' brave?"

John shrugs and says, "How bad could it possibly be? You're on, Carlos!"

"YOU'RE on, Juanito!" - he walks somewhere he can set down the jug and properly extract the booze - "Right ladies, gents, time fer SCIENCE! - he proceeds to distribute the liquor to the test subjects.

Between Carlos, John, Shandalar, and Ara, they’ve managed to invite their friends and colleagues to the taste test.

For the party: Jojo and Hunter, the only ones still in attendance.
For the elves: Alani, Symania, Terron, Aymar, Gorduin, Mari, Bobble, Zoras, and Zoras’ wife. For Harkenwold: Baron Stockmer, Lady Emily, Steward Lonetree, Illyana, and the Amblecrowns, Garreth, Judy, Griffin, and Holly.
For the Rangers: Leo, Ludmilla, Yorenan, and Hush.
For the Goblin Mercs: Warlord Mozeric and his son.
For the Unaligned: Bill, Sarah, Ser Cinnamon, and Febe Medial.

There isn’t enough experimental whiskey for more than a half-finger for everyone once servants are dispatched for some glasses, but everyone is some combination of happy to be included and curious what the new whiskey might taste like.

Bobble takes Illy for a short ride on his magic carpet off the ground above everyone, where he says, "IT may NOT be ENOUGH to get DRUNK on, BUT it's a GIFT nonetheless! TO the ALLIANCE! SALUTE!" Everyone joins in raising their cups to Bobble's toast, before imbibing the whiskey in the amount they wish. This action is immediately followed by everyone but Bill spitting out the nasty brew.

Carlos spits out the drink with a gasp, made all the more bitter by the fact that he brought them all together for this crappy anticlimax - "Carajo, this wan't part o' the tour!" - he looks at the guests - "Oi ladies, gents, don' go nowhere! Specially you, Gorduin! OI BOBBLE!"

"OH gods, CARLOS, it's SO bad!" says Bobble, trying to wipe his tongue off with his sleeve.

"Aye, it is! Let's go get more!" - he checks himself as he realizes what he just said in front of everyone - "That don'taste like THAT!"

Bobble laughs and says, "YES! Everyone, KNOW this! THIS whiskey MAY not have TASTED like we EXPECTED, but WE will TRY again. And AGAIN! Until WE have IT right!" He brings the carpet down low enough for Carlos and John to get on.

Carlos steps back onboard "Take us out, Bobble!"

"How do we not fly off?" asks Illy in wonder as Bobble takes you up.

"Ya hold on ta Johnny real tight!"

Illy does so, even as she shrieks in delight as Bobble takes you guys to speed out of the castle and into the night. And Carlos sighs in wonder at how that line still works.

The night air is cool on Kathryn's skin as Carrot carefully picks her way by starlight down the path to the Amblecrown family farm. The familiar smells of wheat and wet dirt bring on a wave of nostalgia for old times, even as she sees her father and Mr. Thatcher making their way to the barn by lantern light, for she'd recognize her father's gait anywhere, and the man beside him was too short to be a Strong brother and not stocky enough.

Kathryn spurs Carrot forward so she can meet them just as they arrive at the barn. Aware of how alarming a lone rider in the night can be, she decides to announce her presence and says, "Hello Dad. Hello Edwin."

"Ah Kat, thank the gods it's you," says a relieved Edwin even as her father holds up the lantern so they can all see each other, "I thought it might be those goblin beasties again."

Her father says, "Come to help with the chores I imagine." He sniffs as he looks at her horse, saying, "I'll leave the ladies to you, since you got to get your horse settled and all. If'n you get that done, come find us in the north field, we need to pay our taxes."

Kat knows that by "ladies", her father means the cow and two goats her family keeps. As for the "taxes", he refers to the bribe they pay to the various local awakened moles who, in exchange for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates, agree not to hunt those in the soil of their fields and gardens.

The young knight smiles at her father and says, "Of course, I'll get right on it."

She dismounts her horse and steps fully into the light of his lantern, revealing her attire for the day; a gray shirt, a pair of dark green trousers, and a pair of brown leather boots.

"I'll just be a moment."

Her father nods his approval and opens the barn door, where Edwin uses a match stick to transfer the flame of the lantern to another lantern there. With light assured for Kathryn, they set off for the southwest field to see to their business there, leaving Kat to her own business. She takes a deep breath, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to it.

--------------------------

Almost two hours later, just as the sun is cresting the horizon, the three of them are called in by the breakfast bell. Gareth tosses the last of his worms to the waiting male mole, before carefully wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of forearm. Satisfied that the moles are happy, he walks down the fence line towards Kathryn, quietly waiting for her to finish so they can walk back together.

"Here, I'm all done!" Kat exclaims, content with her work. "The moles are as moody as ever, uh?"

"Aye," he says, as they set off toward the steading together, "the little blackguards were complaining about the northwest field again. We'll need to see about it before the month is through."

"Some things never change..." She gazes at the farmstead in the distance. "Everyone doing alright?"

Gareth is silent while he contemplates Kat's question, deciding how he'll answer her. He finally says, "Calmer, more peaceful in some ways. Others, not so much."

"Hmm. I can imagine why." She contemplates something for a moment before she says, "Well, let's go see them. I bet no one is expecting me to show up. Everyone except Alex, anyway."

Gareth looks at her for a moment with an odd expression, but looks like he changes his mind before whatever he was thinking could be said aloud, instead saying, "Nay, Kat, we were expecting you again. You promised not to leave without saying goodbye, so we knew we'd give you a proper one before then. We just weren't sure when that would be."

"Yeah, but you didn't think I'd be helping with the chores!" she says with a grin. "But you're right, I did promise to come. I was just really busy up until now."

Gareth cracks a rare smile, saying, "Aye, you got me there, Kat." He looks away as he struggles with what he wants to say, finally adding, "I missed it."

"Me too, Dad." She takes her father's arm and leans her head against it as they walk.

Kathryn spent the rest of the day helping and hanging out with her family, catching up, giving advice, telling stories, and all the other things families do when they are together again after a good long while, until things finally culminate in the family dinner. They serve one of her favorites to mark the occasion, chicken pie with an assortment of cooked vegetables.

After dinner, everyone gathers around the fire to tell tall tales, the more ridiculous the better. As usual Brian and Alizah dominate, although the more worldly Kathryn also makes a good showing of it, repeating some the best ones she heard in taverns and bars in Sarthel and the Barony of Therond. But the time finally comes when the day is at an end, with the Thatchers and the Strongs heading home and the Amblecrowns seeking out their beds, until finally only Kat, Gareth, and Judy remain.

Gareth, who nodded off an hour ago, is asleep in his chair snoring quietly while Kat watches him from beneath her afghan on the couch. Judy walks back from fetching a blanket and carefully puts it on her husband before looking over at Kat. She seems nervous, in her own reserved way, an emotion Kat isn't use to seeing from her mother.

"You want to sit down?" Kathryn suggests, feeling a little awkward herself. She knows where this conversation is going, after all.

Judy looks down at the empty space next to Kathryn on the couch, clearly torn about sitting there. Her daughter, of course, moves the blanket so she can sit down next to her if she so wishes.

Her mother finally decides, stiffly walking over and sitting next to her daughter. She says, "I wasn't sure I was welcome."

Naturally, Kat throws half of the afghan over her mom, says, "Uh? Of course you are!" and then snuggles against her by holding her arm.

Judy reacts with surprise, but pulls her oldest daughter close into a hug. Soon enough Judy is stroking her hair like she did when Kat was little.

Eninahes:

Kathryn closes her eyes and says nothing for the next few minutes, wanting to enjoy this moment for as long as it is possible while the memories of the Archfey confound themselves with the present. She certainly would have fallen asleep in her mother's embrace if it wasn't for what she wanted to talk to her about.

The knight gathered her courage and, without raising her head, spoke in a soft voice to her mother. "I'm sorry for running away."

Judy stops stroking her hair and instead holds Kathryn's hand tight. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you said how unhappy you were."

"...Thank you, but I still shouldn't have left like that. Especially since—" Kat stops herself, unsure as to whether or not she should say the rest.

"I know," says Judy, "I know, baby. I just wanted to say it before we get to it. Before things get..." She shakes her head as tears begin to fall, "Why a warrior? Why an adventurer? You could have been anything else, anything else at all. But instead, you run away, tell us through a note, and become a godsdamned bloody adventurer."

Kathryn's body stiffens when she hears her mother curse, which as far as she can remember is the first time she has done so in her presence. The silence prolongs for a while until finally, Kat raises her head and meets her mother's gaze. "I'm sorry, Mom," she says, tears in the corner of her eyes. "It must have been so hard on you."

She then hugs her.

Judy hugs her daughter back, holding on desperately while she quietly cries. "I loved being an acolyte. I loved everything about it. Helping people, the thrill of channeling Pelor's might, the good we did...I loved it. " The words are spilling out now, beyond her control. "It was...intoxicating. My friends...we thought we were unstoppable, immortal, that there was nothing we couldn't do together. That we'd change the world. " She shakes her head, "We were stupid children playing at hero, searching for that next rush, consequences be damned. "

Kathryn lets her mother pour out her feelings while holding onto her and rubbing her back. And then, in almost a whisper she asks her, "And you regret it?"

Her mother is silent, shaking her head, searching for the words, "How do I even answer that? Yes? No? You can't cut out the things you don't like, that's not how life works. But I resent being taken advantage of. I was just a kid. Who wants to be dead? They showed everyone crying and upset, who wouldn't have taken the deal?"

"Mom. " Kat pulls back from the embrace so she can look at her mother in the eye. She gently takes her hands in hers and says, "I'm... not sure what to say. Except maybe that I understand you. And I don't blame you for what you did. "

"You should, all of you should, " she says, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry you never even got a choice. "

"It's okay, Mom. You don't have to deal with this alone anymore, okay? We'll figure this out together. "

She nods and then wonders to herself, "Here you are, taking care of me now. You've grown up so much, Kathryn. The time...the time away was good for you. "

A small smile appears on Kat's face and she says, "You think so? I'm just really glad to be back home. I've missed you. "

"I missed you too. Whatever else I feel, I missed you most," she says. She stares into the fire, listening the cracks and pops of the burning logs, finally saying, "What do we do now? "

The knight follows her mother's gaze and loses herself into the mesmerizing swaying of the flames for a moment. "I don't know. We'll have to tell the others at some point. Unless... " She faces her mother again. "Do they know? "

"I'm not sure. I forbid Alex from saying anything but we've been at odds lately, to say the least. It wouldn't surprise me if Brian and Alizah do. Maybe Edith too. " She shakes her head and says, "I just don't know. "

"I'll ask him about it then. " A grave expression suddenly appears on her face as she remembers one of the reasons she wanted to have this conversation. She doesn't say anything for a while, taking the time to search for the right words, until finally, she just comes out and says it. "Alex needs to be trained, Mom. By a true wizard."

"So he says. " She sighs and then says, "Say I agree he needs to be trained. The question then becomes by whom. Do you know a wizard you can trust who would be willing to do so? Because I don't."

"No, I don't either. But I can find one. I can ask people in the Alliance about it, or even Eninahes herself! I think you'd like her, Mom."

"We'll start there then, " she says. "Now tell me about this Lady who's made you a knight. You mentioned that she's the daughter of Sehanine and has a curse? "

"Well, it's kind of a long story... "

The night of the signing ceremony continues...

Carlos and the others have returned from fetching the second batch of whiskey, but have only managed to convince the braver of their friends to try it this time. Fortunately, Kathryn was able to join them for this one, having just returned from her talk with her brother Alex. Those closest to her notice that she seems a bit off, but she deflects all inquiries with promises to talk about it later after she's had time to process.

The final roster for the second round is Kathryn, Hunter, Bobble, Shandalar, Bill, Sarah, John, Illyana, Gorduin, Mari, Symania, Terron, Mozeric, and his son. Fortunately for all involved, "Whiskey Test Group E" turns out to be much better than the "D" batch, though everyone agrees it's still not ready for sale.

As everyone naturally breaks off into their own social groups after the drinking comes to an end, Carlos observes the following when Gorduin and Mari say goodnight to each other: at the end of their goodbyes, she looks back to find him watching her as she walks away followed by him holding up his hand in goodbye. It's a surprisingly sweet interaction from the old prickly rascal and, Carlos notes with some satisfaction, a vast improvement over what he might have expected only a few days ago.

Carlos waits a moment, then takes that as his cue to butt in - "That has gotta be the most adorable thing i seen ya do since i've met ya, hands down, oi."

Gorduin sighs, before saying, "If we weren't friends Carlos I'd say something mean right now, but instead I'm just going to say thank you. So, thank you. For giving me the kick in the butt I needed."

Carlos chuckles - "I'm a Dwarf, oi. S'what i do. 'Sides, ya the one did the hard part. Looks like it's workin', i'm happy ta see it."

Gorduin nods, watching Mari as she leaves through the gate. He says, "Things are going well. But that also leaves me with a dilemma." He looks around at the people around him, suddenly becoming mindful of the crowd, before saying, "Walk with me Carlos. I want to run something by you."

"Happy for ya, man. I really am. Wit' all the downright horrendous happenin' lately, it's good ta see a bit good stuff happenin' too." - then he notices the implicit catch hanging in the air - "But that ain't the all of it, is it?"

"No, if only it were that simple. You weren't the only one to notice how things were going between Mari and I. Folan and Yorenan did as well." Carlos sees the conflict on the old elf's face, while he tries to say what he wants to say. Gorduin finally starts by saying, "They said some things to me, that were rather...hard to hear. But I can't deny the wisdom in their...observations?" He chuckles to himself and continues, "Yes, that's the nice way to put it. But what I'm trying to say is that I can't just react to things that come at me anymore. The fact of the matter is, I need...no I want, to help. To make a difference and...I can't do that at home. And that's my fault."

Carlos' expression becomes visibly disquieted - "Whoa wait, one thing at a time there. Wha'they say?"

"Going to make me say it?" says Gorduin, the speed of his breathing increasing. "You can be rather cruel to an old man's ego, you know that Carlos? Fine.

"They said that I'm a bitter, old coward who sabotaged my own Eldership instead of just leaving and doing what I wanted to. That I've largely wasted my talents on the petty squabbles of forest critters and unfairly took out my own frustrations about that on my family and the tribe, to the point where a simple sorry won't make it okay and that no one wants to give me another chance and risk undermining their own ability to act during the current crisis. That in fact, I'd just make things more difficult and confusing for everyone, right when they need that least. They said if I don't deal with that legacy, that I'll just end up breaking Mari's heart all over again." Bitter tears well up in his eyes as he finishes, saying, "And the worst part is, they don't think she'll give me another chance if I do. And they're right. They're absolutely right."

Carlos doesn't take well to that - "Hells, f'they had that much in'em all this time, why din't--" - he cuts himself off, knowing it wouldn't help - "So the short o' it is, ya need ta prove yerself ta the rest o' the clan in a big bad way, right?"

"Yes! And you are going to help me do it! Now are you going to listen to my plan or ask more questions?"

"Imma ask yer plan!"

The old elf stops and blinks, not expecting that joke. Finally grinning, he wipes away the tears as he shakes his head, saying, "Har, har, asshole. Now listen. The way I see it, I have two options. I either go with you guys and help you stop the dragon or I take Yorenan up on his offer of joining the Fallcrest Rangers and help you guys stop the dragon. Which one do you think has the better chance of success?"

Carlos grins - "Hot damn, Gordy, yer so blunt ya could pass fer a Dwarf. Course i want ya go wit' me!"

"Well, good!" He falls into awkward silence, while he tries to figure out what to say next. He finally settles on, "Thanks, Carlos. You won't regret it."

"Great! S'a bit late in the night ta start talkin'bout sober stuff, but show up tomorrow, i'll lay out the battle plan fer both you an' Ara!"

Gorduin can't help but make a face at that, but he manages to say, "Fine. Whatever. Just tell me how I can help. But you'll be buying the drinks after."

"Aye, ya'll need a tall one after ya fess up ta her fer that last time. I'll buy ya the good stuff, don' worry."

"Aye, I suppose I can apologize for my behavior." He folds his arms and adds, "But I won't apologize for my opinions of the Harkin's Heart. They really are a blight on my people, and that was true before Nesme was replaced just as much as it is now."

Carlos crosses his own arms - "Be the first time i'd hear anyone apologize fer what they think, an' i won't argue what i dunno, but i want ya be serious about makin' nice wit'her. F'nothin' else, cause ya'll be spendin' a lotta time together from here on out, but the same way i saw through all the crap an' knew yer more than what they made ya out ta be, i saw the same 'bout Ara. An' ya'll see it too if ya give it a chance."

The idea that they might have something in common hits Gorduin like a slap in the face. "How can you say that? The thought of me and that shrew...no, that's completely ridiculous. I have many faults but upholding the authority of those backwards murderers isn't one of them."

"Oi look, i din't get the best impression o' them either, an' that was before they tried ta kill me, but i also found decent folk in there too. Black Dragon asshole countin' on us turnin' our backs on each other, that was his play as much as the Gobs were, startin wit'how he got the Treants ta look the other way while the woods got invaded - an' we gon' hav'ta deal wi'that mess soon enough too, i wager. 'Sides, ya know me; i'm as blunt as me hammer. I don' curtsy, i don't politick, i look folk in the eye an tell it straight, and i'm tellin ya: if ya trust me, try an' trust her. Or at least judge her by her actions from here on out, not what her clan did. I'm pretty sure ya won't regret it."

"If she can behave then so can I."

Carlos shrugs - "Fair enough. Now what, ya gon' turn in or wanna get some more liquid?"

"I need a drink so there's your answer. Shall we?"

"Lead the way!"

Hunter would be surprised at how fast the party was winding down if he didn't know most of the guests had also attended Alani's induction ceremony on top of their work with the refugees. Even so, the courtyard had largely deserted over the last half hour on the run up to midnight. There were holdouts here and there, Bill for one is still happily drinking away the whiskey Carlos and Bobble brought back the second time from Cliffside Brewery, but it's the two Medial sisters that he heads towards when he spots them. He finds them at a table drinking wine, winding down from the party. As the Ranger walks up, Febe smiles at him in greeting, saying, "Still up? I thought you had turned in already."

Hunter smiles back and sits down. "No, I was just saying goodnight to Symania. I swear, with everything going on, fate is conspiring to turn me into a night owl." He puts his cup down and reaches for the wine. "May I?"

"Please," she says, pushing the bottle towards his hand. Sorsha adds,

"We haven't really gotten the chance to get to know each other; I can't think of a more pleasant way to do so."

Hunter pours himself a cup. "Me neither. I recognized you ladies before, and for some reason I thought that meant I was supposed to know you. Well, do you want to start, or should I?"

"Well, you aren't a total stranger. I mean, there weren't that many tiefling families back when we were growing up," says Sorsha.

"I recognized you too," says Febe, "You probably don't remember it but we actually did meet once back home. You remember when everyone was afraid of that burglar that was robbing everyone? What was his name? Remember, he'd leave a pastry behind to let everyone know he did it?"

"The Pastry Pilferer," says Sorsha helpfully. "I heard he left the pastry so it wouldn't be all bad. Like I got robbed but that was an amazing eclair," she says with a laugh.

"Yeah, something like that," the priestess says before turning back to Hunter, "You came to our door to question us after our neighbors, the Baileys, were robbed."

Hunter's eyes widen as his mind conjures the memory of a girl in a cute wool shift answering the door. "Hey, yeah!" He shakes his head. "Boy, do I. Thanks again for saving the evidence. Most people were just eating it. Did you know one of my younger brothers almost slipped on a streusel bar early one morning? 'It was pretty good, though,' he said." He shakes his head again.

Sorsha laughs and says, "Pretty good? I'll have to remember that one."

"Well, I hope it helped solve your mystery," says Febe, blushing in pleasure that he remembered her contribution.

Hunter sips some wine. "We made an embarrassment of ourselves pointing at the usual suspects, and profiling some of the bakers. But yeah, we got him. So, yeah, I was a guard, doing as guards do - guarding, and all that. What were you doing back then? Working at the temple, right?"

“And helping my father with his research,” says Febe, “Though I almost exclusively do the latter now.”

“We both do, thank you very much,” says Sorsha, refusing to be left out.

“Yes, and I’m happy for the company,” says Febe, placatingly.

"Really? How do you help him? What's he doing research on?"

"Our father is an archaeologist, he studies the ruins of the past so that he can write about what the people were like back when they were built," says Febe, before sipping her wine, "You might have heard of him. Douvan Medial? He's written extensively about the history of Nerath in the Vale."

"We do the fieldwork for him now that he's too old to do it himself," says the bard.

"Sorsha!" admonishes her sister.

The bard shrugs in response, saying, "What? It's true. I love him too, but he can't go out anymore on his own. So I draw pictures for him while Febe collects the best artifacts to take back."

"So you both go exploring old ruins together? That's cool. Is he studying the ruins of Bael Turath?" Hunter takes another sip of his wine.

Febe frowns at her sister before sighing and then answering Hunter's question. "He used to, back when he could travel himself. He devoted the last half of his book on the ancient origins of the Vale to Bael Turath. I wouldn't say it's his favorite subject but he wanted to be thorough."

"Why?" asks Sorsha with a grin, "Wondering what the ancient tieflings were like?"

"Well, sorta. Yes, but I'm mostly just interested in learning more about my family." He blushes imperceptibly. "U-uh, have you read the book yourselves?"

"I, uh, skimmed it," says Sorsha, taking a sip of wine.

"She's read it so many times cover to cover that she's destroyed five copies," says Febe, smiling mischievously as she reveals her sister's secret, "Father has a real knack for making history feel alive."

"Febe!" admonishes Sorsha, blushing in embarrassment.

"What? It's true," says Febe with a big grin.

”Destroyed?” Hunter laughs out loud. “Sounds like an awesome read! I guess I came to the right bard. Would you tell all about it? I only know the broad strokes, but not the details. If my family name is in there somewhere, I'd be super grateful."

"That's a pretty broad question so I'll do my best," says Sorsha. She takes a moment to order her thoughts before launching into it, "The Thrul family enters the history of the Vale when they were placed in charge of the Theme that today we know as the Nentir Vale. That name, by the way, is derived from the Theme itself, which was originally founded to administrate the lands of the former minotaur kingdom, the Nen'Tir Ash'oka, that ruled this area prior to their defeat and annexation by the Empire.

"Also, a Theme, was an area of land similar to the Imperial Provinces of Nerath that was given to a general to administrate in the name of the Empire. The idea was that the general's troops would be drawn from the people who worked their land, and they would in turn act together to defend it and the Empire from all dangers. If that sounds similar to the system of vassalage left to us by the Nerathi, that's because it's the direct precursor to that system.

"Anyway, they saw a lot of action in the latter half of the war with the dragonborn empire, Arkhosia. You do know what Arkhosia is, right?"

Hunter nods. "They were bitter rivals. Arkhosia and Bael Turath exhausted their efforts in that war and fell to internal threats and problems as well as from each other. For Bael Turath, one of those was the slave revolts. Conventional defeats and the burning of buildings made the masters look weak and galvanized the slaves into action."

"Awesome, saves me the trouble of having to fill that in," Sorsha says with a nod, "The last Thrul general to oversee this region was called to Nera to try to put down the rebellion and never came back so he probably fell in the fighting there. That's all I know."

"Thanks! I guess eventually I'll be going south again. Maybe I'll find a long-lost cousin down there. Did your dad learn about that general from anything you brought him?"

"No, that's from when he was doing his own fieldwork, though he'd take us with him sometimes, depending on how dangerous it might be," says Febe.

"I suggest speaking to Father then, when we get to Fallcrest," answers the priestess.

"Definitely." Hunter takes a drink and leans back, smirking. "I'm interested in some other historical stuff. And here I am sitting with the talented progenies of a famous historian... Do you mind if I ask you guys a bunch more questions?"

"I don't know about a bunch," says Febe, "But I'm always up for talking history." She looks over to Sorsha, who shrugs.

"I am feeling tired, so how about this? You can ask questions for as long as it takes us to finish the bottle." The bard picks up the bottle of wine and tops off the three of you. "What were you hoping to learn about?"

Hunter wags his tail. "How did some of the animals around Harken become Awakened?"

"No idea," says Febe, "A druid did it?"

"They might have been awakened by a local spirit, if it's strong enough," Sorsha says,"Not on purpose mind you, but as an ambient effect."

"Poop. And I thought that was an easy one." He takes a drink, and speaks with the barest lilt of one telling a story around a campfire. "The people in the Vale grow up on ghost stories about the Wild Hunt. Supposedly an ethereal host of warriors who drag oathbreakers and sinners off to horrible, poetic fates." He switches off the dramatic flair. "But what do we really know about them?"

"Oh, spooky," jokes Febe, "But the Wild Hunt is real. Though enforcing what passes for law in the Feywild is only part of what they do. What do you know about the Shadowfell?"

Hunter feels a chill. "It's an elemental plane that all sorts of nasty things call their home. Just like the name suggests, it's perpetually dark. Just like the Raven Queen likes it. It's her domain."

"It's where she lives, but it's not her domain," says the priestess shaking her head, "No, what the Shadowfell is, is the dark reflection of our plane, the future, the end of all things. It's where the dead go before they pass on to whatever's next. But it's also where the worst of the worst are imprisoned in the mists of the Domains of Dread. Oathbreakers, betrayers, mass murderers, those that have sinned against the natural order on a scale inconceivable; they all end up there in their own prisons. But the mists aren't just a magical phenomenon, they are one of the forms of the Wild Hunt."

"What? What do you mean, the mists are one of their 'forms'?"

"The Wild Hunt isn't just a person doing a job with a troop of their best hunting buddies," says the priestess, "No, it's a metaphor made flesh for the hunt itself in all its forms. When the powers that rule the Domains of Dread want to bring someone there, they'll dispatch the mists to hunt them down and bring them back to their prison. Do you see the connection?"

"Okay. But what about the spooky horsemen and the hounds? Are those still real?"

"Yes, they are," says Sorsha, "They are fey of the Gloaming Court, hunting with their master, the archfey Cerunnos, the Horned Lord. But they are also the mists of the Domains of Dread. It's said that if you ever see them, you are given a choice: either join the Hunt or be destroyed by it."

"Whoa," Hunter breathes, mystified. "But why can't they allow anyone to see them? What makes that a big deal?"

"If we see them out and about it means they are doing their job," says Febe, "It means they are completely lost to the Hunt. It isn't a rational thing, the Hunt is a force of nature."

Hunter frowns. "Oh really? Well it sounds to me like the Rangers could teach them a thing or two. How long as Cerunnos been their leader, anyway?"

Sorsha shrugs, "Time is fuzzy in the Dawn Era as Time as we know it didn't even exist then."

"That long? Is he the only leader they've ever had? How did he get the job?"

"Yes, that's right, the only one," says the bard. "It's a sad tale, you came to the right bard. As I'm sure you surmised, Cerunnos the Thrice Cursed wasn't always the Master of the Wild Hunt. No, he started life as an orphaned firbolg. Just so you know, the firbolg are a race of fierce fey giants, renowned for their hunting abilities. Anyway, as a babe, he was presented to Oran, the Green Lord, by a mysterious figure known only as the Witch of Fates. When presenting the infant, she prophesied that he'd grow up to be Oran's greatest hunter, until the day he saw his true fate within the waters of the Lake of Destiny, at which point darkness would follow him forevermore.

"The archfey took little Cerunnos in, and, as prophesied, he did grow up to be the greatest hunter of the Green Fey, tempering his expertise in tracking and killing with a deep abiding love for the animals; for he never took more than he needed, and always showed respect to his kills. Though his adoptive sisters tormented him for not being Oran's blood-son, Cerunnos doted on his father and served him loyally, striving to avoid the Lake of Destiny, which he had been forbidden to approach.

“All was well, until one fateful year, when Cerunnos partook in the yearly Hunt for the Silver Hind; a mystical fey deer which Oran's court hunted every winter, but never was able to catch. Such was Cerunnos' skill that he became the first to ever hit the hind with an arrow. Obsessed with proving his love for his father, Cerunnos chased the Silver Hind for miles, right to a cliff overlooking the Lake of Destiny. He managed to grapple the creature, but was frozen at the last moment by the intelligence and emotion he saw in its eyes. At which point it bucked him off the cliff and into the lake. What he saw under the water before he pulled himself to the shore, nobody knows; theories include that he saw his destiny, his true parentage, or some cosmic truth of the hunt. All that's known is that, when he finally struggled home, Oran knew instantly that Cerunnos had been in the Lake of Destiny. He banished Cerunnos from his court forever, laying the first of Cerunnos' three curses: that he would forever wander without a home.

“Distraught and betrayed, Cerunnos sought to redeem himself in Oran's eyes, entering the demesne of the archfey known as the Prince of Frost and begging for his help in finding the Silver Hind; after all, it only ever appeared in winter, so it must be a creature of the Winter Court. The Prince of Frost agreed, but only if Cerunnos would capture Oran's daughters and bring them to him. Bolstered by memories of their many years of torment and humiliation, Cerunnos agreed, and led a hunting party to capture his former adoptive kin... but, at the last second, realized he could not see them harmed, and so he turned on the Winter Fey, slaying many and sending the survivors fleeing back to their cruel master. The Prince of Frost responded by banishing Cerunnos from the Winter Court forever, and laying a second curse on Cerunnos: that whatever he personally hunts will always be just beyond his grasp.

"Desperate, Cerunnos turned to yet another archfey for aid; Tiandra the Summer Queen, ruler of the Summer Court. She agreed to summon the Silver Hind for him, if Cerunnos would declare which of the two fey - Tiandra, or the Hind - was the fairest. Despite the obvious risks of angering the powerful and rather vain queen of the faeries, Cerunnos agreed; lovely as the Silver Hind was, it was still just a beast, and could not compare to Tiandra. As they waited together for days, Tiandra became enamored of Cerunnos, planning to name him a knight in her court and to take him for a consort. Alas, fate played a cruel trick on Cerunnos yet again; when the Silver Hind entered the court, before the firbolg's eyes, it cast off its doeskin and revealed itself as another archfey; the fierce Maiden of the Moon, enemy of all therianthropes and one of the greatest hunters of all the Feywild. Bedazzled at the sight of her, lovestruck at first glimpse, Cerunnos immediately declared the Maiden to be more beautiful than Tiandra. Incensed and humiliated, Tiandra exiled Cerunnos from her court yet again, and laid a final curse on him; to forever be bound to the shadows as a bloodthirsty slayer of man and beasts. For added humiliation, she caused a pair of stag's antlers to sprout from his skull, so that he could be a ‘proper stag for his hind.’

"Ever since that day, Cerunnos has been a member of the Gloaming Court, roaming across the Feywild, the Shadowfell, and the Mortal World alike with his Wild Hunt, seeking to end his curses and to win the love of the Maiden of the Moon - alas, to no avail.

"And so ends the tale as it was told to me. I hope you enjoyed it."

Hunter listens to Sorsha's tale with rapt attention. He sits up and leans forward as she tells him about the Horned Lord's various tragedies, even beginning to root for him. When the story ends, he looks down at his cup and takes a drink. "You told it very nicely. Well done, Sorsha."

"Thank you," she says, saluting him with her glass, "It's a favorite of mine."

He doesn't reply right away. "Do you think there's a way for Cerunnos to break free of the curses?"

"I don't know," says Sorsha, "This tale is very old and has a lot of momentum. You'd need to counter it with a tale of equal or greater dramatic weight."

Febe sighs, saying, "Here we go."

"What? I'm telling you, it's true," counters her sister.

Hunter looks away from the bard and asks the priestess, "What do you think, Febe? Can Cerunnos escape the curses without undermining the prophecy?"

"There's a counter to every curse, it's just a matter of finding it," says Febe pondering the idea, "I mean, if these three powerful archfey each put a curse on him, what's stopping them from removing them? Has anyone asked? More importantly, has Cerunnos himself asked? You have to remember, the fey aren't the most logical creatures, they are beings of ideas and symbols. It might have truly never occurred to any of them to just make amends."

"I have noticed the pattern. The archfey were right, but his own father banished him and cursed him forever. Even if they have it in them to relent, can they? And what in the world was going on with the Maiden of the Moon? It almost looks like she orchestrated the whole thing - minus the part where Cerunnos conspired with his family's enemies."

Before Febe can answer, her sister says, "You two just don't get it." Sorsha shakes her head, saying, "They aren't like us on the Mortal Plane, they follow the rules of dramatic storytelling. The one who set this in motion was the Witch of Fates. The rest got caught up in the wake of the story like an arrow shot from a bow. An arrow aimed squarely at one character in the story, I'll remind you, the Maiden of the Moon. I bet they are enemies."

"Okay then, well, how about this? Maybe she's the unsung antihero dancing at the end of the Witches' machinations, and looking for a group of brave adventurers who will help her save Cerunnos, whom she's secretly crushing on all this time. There's the premise for your story." Hunter rolls his eyes. "Ugh, fie. Fie on ALL of it, I say. The Feywild needs to get a grip on Itself."

"Here, here," says Febe, sharing Hunter's distaste for the Feywild.

Meanwhile, Sorsha laughs at Hunter's sarcastically spun tale, saying, "Not bad, but you should leave the tale telling to me."

"Oh, I am," Hunter replies in earnest. "You can have that idea. I know the storytelling thing works to an inane degree of our lives. Kathryn's a freaking Shiere Knight. It'll be a hell of a project, but I'll help tell it around the fireplaces once it's complete. It's the least we can do for him, after all."

"Now there's an idea," says the bard, rather taken with the idea. "I've never tried my hand at writing my own stories." She tries to sip her wine, but ends up turning her cup upside down instead. "Looks like I'm out."

Hunter looks at Febe. "How about you?"

Febe tips back her cup for one swallow, before turning it upside down too. "Looks like I'm out."

Hunter smiles at them and lifts his cup to drain the rest of his. "Me three. I had more to ask, but it's late anyway. We should do this again sometime."

"I'd like that," says Sorsha, smiling, "It's always fun talking about and debating this stuff. It's usually just Febe and me when we are out on the road."

Febe nods her agreement, saying, "I'll have to think of some new topics for us to discuss. Maybe the Astral Sea?"

"No one wants to talk about your boring ocean of creation mayo," says Sorsha, rolling her eyes, "We should talk about the Elemental Chaos. Now there's an interesting collection of planes."

Creation Mayo! Hunter laughs. "I dunno, 'creation mayo' sounds like a super fun topic to me!"

Scandalized, Febe says, "It's the divine sea of creation! Not 'creation mayo!"

"It's not my fault your 'divine sea of creation' feels gross and weird," retorts Sorsha.

Hunter keeps laughing. "We'll decide on it later. Thanks again for telling me about the last Imperial governor. If you need a ranger, or have any uses for Thaumaturgy, come see me and I'll get you sorted out."

"It's not creation mayo," Febe mutters to herself as she pouts into her empty wine cup.

Sorsha, on the other hand, is laughing with Huner, replying, "Thanks. I'll come up with some questions for you to answer next time."

"Good, I'd be happy to oblige you." He stands up. "Sorry Febe, I just thought that was hilarious. Sorsha got to tell some stories, so next time we'll talk about the Astral Sea. Is that fair?"

"That's fair," says Febe after only a moment of hesitation, "Goodnight Hunter."

"Yeah, goodnight," says Sorsha.

"Goodnight!" Hunter nods cheerfully and waves. After walking a short distance from the table they shared, he whistles for Noble, and the two of them head for bed.