At high-sun, Leothric raises his blade and proclaims, "I say to you good folk, both Lawful and Fair, that at peace we are, and at peace we shall remain. Upon this sword granted by my father, your lord Lorendiac, I swear it!" There is much smiling and applause, especially amid the young girls swooning before the lad; but you catch eye-rolls and murmurs underneath the proclamations of joy. A short time later are dances around the may pole, feats of strength and skill, and much more merry-making.
Lips are loose from the quantity of libations consumed; and comments are overheard as the day draws on.
An old woman complains, "I left a bowl of milk the other night for help with the sewing. When I woke up the milk was dumped, and the thread severed. Nothing but trouble has been happening since those fair folk came out of the wood".
A man says to another, "When closing the shutters the other night I saw a cloaked man wandering the road without lamp or pack. Folk from north and south of the clearing say they seen him at the mounds". His companion replies, "Might be one of them druids. Their ways are strange and they speak with the dead".
"I was dumping the chamber pot this morning and it looked like that magician was crawling through the stones underneath his tower. Why is that folk that are strange have to act so strange?"
A woodlander says to his companions, "No word has come from the descendants of Meadhra. My brother left two mornings past, but has yet to return. I will go for him on the morrow to make sure he isn't bedding some woodcutters daughter". Another woodlander responds, "More like he's bedding a goat!" And they descend into drunken laughter.
A boy says, "Animals have been acting strange they have. There been a mean dog running lose; ravaged a man in the north clearing and can still be heard baying through the night".
Rumor mongering; if the spring festival is good for anything it is that. The sun is now below the horizon and fires are made near the camps by small groups of kin and friends. Drunken revelers are still within the longhouse and about the campfires. The six of you find yourself in the cobbled square between the chapel, tower, and longhouse; sharing stories as you empty the last of your tankards and drinking horns. You happen to notice, as a matter of chance, that the door to the chapel is ajar with the smallest of legs sticking out where something is lying in the doorway
