Classic-Castle Roleplay: December 2005

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

When it all ended, half an hour later, everybody was shivering, cold, wet, and having a thoroughly good time.

Grid: M-7
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

Several days after the Great Snowball Massacre of 2005 (as it was now called), the trio jovially bounded into the Great Hall of Drullen Bell Keep to find it undergoing a drastic change. The four long dinner tables has been moved to one wall and had been stacked on top of one another. This left a rather large amount of floor space that was now being swept by several Forestmen.

“Whoa…” Hans looked around, “What’s going on?”

“There’s Bjarn.” said Cate, pointing, “Let’s ask him…”

As the trio approached, Bjarn greeted them with a nod and a smile.

“Ah, just the three I wanted to talk to. You’ve been to more balls than I, I suspect.”

“Uh, well, they have.” said Adrian, slightly distancing himself from Hans and Cate.

“Good.” said Bjarn, “Tell me, then, do you think this will be enough space to have about twenty dancing couples?”

“Uh…” Hans stared at the Great Hall, “You’re hosting a ball?”

“Not quite.” said Bjarn, “Just a dance. The Yule Dance. It’s a Forestmen tradition. Only Drullen Bell hasn’t hosted it for three years. Isaac was preoccupied with the rumblings of Defoe and Kath in 2002, and…the Forestmen were virtually leaderless in 2003. And of course BloodVaine had everyone’s attention in 2004. This is the first time I’ve organized such a thing, and there aren’t many helpful records of past events to fall upon and examine.”

“I think this room will be plenty large.” said Cate expertly, “if you remove the tables completely.”

“Excellent.” said Bjarn. He gestured at several Forestmen. They came over at once.

“Take the tables and benches and set them up in the entrance hall, along the walls.” instructed Bjarn.

The Forestmen bowed and left. Bjarn turned back to the trio and noted and uneasy look on Hans’ and Adrian’s faces.

“Not to worry, you two,” he smiled, “The Yule Dance will be nowhere near as formal as Emperor Constantius’ Peace Ball. Though,” Bjarn’s eyes glinted, “Dress attire is required.”

Then Bjarn turned away to supervise the placement of twelve smaller pines along the walls of the Great Hall. Hans and Adrian looked at Cate in apprehension. Their unspoken worst fears were confirmed.

“Oooh! A dance!” breathed Cate, “A Yuletide dance!”

“Formal dress required.” said Hans bleakly, “Where the heck are we going to find suits?”

“I’m sure Bjarn could lend us some.” said Adrian. They were suddenly shaken out of their bleakness by a shriek from Cate.

“Ooh, look, look! What’s that they’re putting up there!”

Hans and Adrian turned about. Forestmen on ladders were hanging clumps of a olive-green plant from the ceiling rafters every six feet or so.

“Mistletoe!” proclaimed Cate excitedly, “Yes, it is! Mistletoe!”

Like lightning, both Hans and Adrian looked above their heads as if afraid of a dragon attack.

“Oooh!” Cate was rubbing his hands together, giggling and cackling. “Mistletoe.”

Hans and Adrian looked at one another.

“I must be off, boys!” said Cate, hiking up her skirts and fleeing, “Oh, dear, there must be a seamstress around here…!”

Hans and Adrian stood stock still for a few moments, then Hans said, in a quite a different tone than Cate, “Mistletoe.”

“Yes, mistletoe.” said Adrian.

More silence.

“Well…” said Hans after a while, “That’s just dandy.”

“Quite.”

Another stretch of silence. Hans and Adrian remained affixed to the spot, both staring at a clump of mistletoe. Unexpectedly, Bjarn clapped them both on the shoulder.

“Ah, yes, I see you’ve discovered my little addition!” chuckled Bjarn, “None of the previous dances as far as I could tell included mistletoe, but I think it adds just the right…touch.”

Bjarn strode off, still chuckling.

“So he’s the culprit.” said Adrian slowly, “I’ll never forgive him.”

Later that day, nearing dusk, Hans and Adrian met each other outside the Great Hall, both looking stiff in ill-fitting suit. They surveyed each other grumpily until Thomas Valt approached. Their spirits were lifted when they saw that he, too, wore a suit that was slightly too small for him.

“A merry Yuletide to you two.” he greeted.

“Same to you.” said Hans amiably.

“You look as comfortable as I feel.” said Adrian with a tight grin.

Thomas smiled and tugged at his collar.

“Best I could do on short notice.”

“Totally.” said Hans, “The Peace Ball was my yearly dose of dancing. I’m so not looking forward to this.”

Thomas shrugged.

“Back in Hemmerington, we used to dance all the time. It became a type of sport.”

“I envy your advantage, good sir.” said Hans good-humouredly, “I just want to survive this dance without making a complete idiot of myself.”

“By the way,” said Adrian, “You saw the ceiling?”

Thomas nodded, smiling.

“Mistletoe growing out of every rafter.”

Adrian and Hans were rather taken aback at Thomas’s lack of angst at the botanical hanging garden of perilously potential awkward situations Bjarn the matchmaker had planted. A moment later they understood why they had lost an ally. Lady Merina appeared, wearing a dress in becoming shades of green. Thomas took her had and, with a final nod at Hans and Adrian, they entered the Great Hall.

“Ah. That explains it.” said Adrian matter-of-factly.

Hans, however, was looking disturbed.

“We were supposed to bring dates?” he said rigidly, “Oh tyco!”

“What?” Adrian looked at Hans, “Nah, I doubt…”

At that moment Captain Anardan passed them, grasping the arm of a tall, black-haired Forestwoman.

“It’s not a requirement, I’m sure.” said Adrian hastily.

Sir Dractor passed them, holding the arm of another Forestwoman. He winked.

“Oh tyco.” swore Hans, “Why doesn’t Bjarn tell us these things!”

“Oh, come on Hans!” growled Adrian, “I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

They entered the Great Hall slowly. Every person inside was paired with someone else. Hans darted back outside.

“Not cool!” snapped Hans, “Totally not cool!”

“I’m beginning to tire of these events.” said Adrian dryly.

“When you spend your days in a little hut in the middle of nowhere, these social parties are quite welcome.” said a voice behind them.

Hans and Adrian turned to see Reno and Shainya Regga approaching them.

“Hey Reno, hey Shainya!” said Hans.

“Why aren’t you in there enjoying the dance?” asked Shainya, smiling. She was now five months pregnant.

“It hasn’t started yet.” said Hans, “and…uh…it seems everyone’s arriving in…couples…”

“Oh, that is a problem.” said Reno, grinning, “Ah well, I’ll send out any lonely lasses I find wandering about.”

Laughing, Reno and Shainya entered the Great Hall.

“This is humiliating.” said Hans. Then his face brightened.

“Cate!” he almost bellowed, “Excellent!”

Hans rushed forward and grabbed Cate’s arm as she approached.

“Er, hi Hans…” she said, startled, “What’s up?”

“There’s a little issue about this event.” said Hans hastily, “Everyone’s appearing in couples.”

“Well, I figured that,” said Cate, giggling, “It is a dance, after all.”

She looked at Adrian.

“But what about you?”

“I will stoically remain single.” said Adrian firmly.

Cate shrugged, and she and Hans entered with Adrian trailing behind. Once they got out of the doorway they were able to blend with the crowd.

“Ooh!” cried Cate, craning her neck, “There’s Gonderin!”

She hurried off.

“There goes your date.” said Adrian, smirking, “That didn’t last long.”

Hans looked put-off, but then grinned.

“Betcha she’s gonna try to pin him under the mistletoe.” he said.

Adrian snorted and took a sip of punch. Then he stiffened.

“Incoming!” he said warningly.

But Hans had already vanished, dancing away with a young Forestwoman. Adrian was left alone to fend for himself as a pretty Forestwoman approached him.

A few minutes later, Hans approached Adrian.

“Who was that you were just talking to?”

Adrian smiled coyly.

“A very charming lady from the Downs.”

“Where?”

“It’s a southern Forestmen province.”

“Ah…”

Hans sidled up to Adrian.

“Whatcha talk about?”

“It was mostly a fierce debate about the faults or lack thereof of the Pietro Jacobi translation of Lord Of The LEGO by J.R.R. Nathaniel.”

“Oh.”

Hans started to hum a mushy love song.

“You might as well save your breath.” said Adrian calmly, “What you’re implying is entirely false.”

Hans snickered.

“Suuuuuure…”

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-7
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

“Mistletoe growing out of every rafter.”

Adrian and Hans were rather taken aback at Thomas’s lack of angst at the botanical hanging garden of perilously potential awkward situations Bjarn the matchmaker had planted. A moment later they understood why they had lost an ally. Lady Merina appeared, wearing a dress in becoming shades of green. Thomas took her hand and, with a final nod at Hans and Adrian, they entered the Great Hall.

Merina was somewhat terrified at the prospect of the dance, while being simultaneously thrilled. It was Bjarn's fault, either way- although Thomas was the direct cause of the butterflies in her stomach.

The reason the fault lay on the Forestman King's shoulders had to do with the fact that the decision to make the Yule Dance an affair for couples. Not that he had made it an order, of course, but the way the invitations had been couched...

And it hadn't always been that way. According to Gonderin, the Yule Dance had traditionally been attended by those who were single, a tradition that Bjarn had seen fit to leave by the wayside.

Precisely who it was that adorned Bjarn's arm that evening, Merina had no idea, though she was a few years younger than the Lord of the League, and quite attractive. They appeared to know each other fairly well, although there was no sign of romance.

As interesting as the presence of the bachelor Bjarn and a lovely lady was, Merina wasn't really paying too much attention as she arrived at the entrance of the now table-less great hall. Thomas was waiting for her, in slightly ill-fitting dress clothes. He rather quickly abandoned Hans and Adrian to offer her his arm.

"You look stunning," he said. "Thank you so much for coming with me."

"I'm glad you asked," said Merina, "I hardly know anybody here. You look quite handsome, yourself."

Thomas laughed, a bit self-consciously.

"You're being kind," he said. "I know that these clothes don't fit too well, but Bjarn was the closest fit. Lucky Sir Dractor has his own, albeit small, wardrobe here."

Merina's heartbeat quickened as they entered the hall. Misteltoe was hanging from just about every rafter, dangling so far from the ceiling so as to be quite clear to those below as to where they were hanging over. Merina was terrified of what might happen if she ended up under one- with Thomas Valt, or with anybody else.

Peculiarly, however, and fortunately, Thomas seemed to be going out of his way to avoid the hanging boughs of mistletoe, and led Merina out to the centre of the dance floor. The musicians were playing a waltz, and it was not too long before Merina discovered Thomas' Hemmerington-honed dance skills. Herself a member of the nobility, she had dancing skills to match, and it was a most sweet and pleasant dance that followed.

Meanwhile, Sir Dractor and his escort had finished their first dance, and after several missteps on Sir Dractor's part, resulting in bruised toes on the lady's part, they retired to the snack table for a while.

Sir Dractor's escort, a somewhat taller, silver-haired Forestwoman of indeterminate age was an Elf, one of Gonderin's kin, although apparently somewhat older than he and not closely related. Her name was Elendis Mar'Valone

A captain of a company of Rangers, she had seen service in the BloodVaine War, and in conflicts ranging back for nearly two centuries. She was also a cultured and intelligent companion, and Sir Dractor was enjoying her company.

"Your young squire has his eye on Lady Valenti," she noted, sipping her wine.

"Yes, I've noticed," said Sir Dractor. "It's a natural instinct, I think, given their shared qualities."

"And her rather apparent beauty has nothing to do with it?" said Elendis. "Young men, so I've learned after decades of working with them, see something they like, and imagine the rest as they wish it."

"I'll grant you the point regarding young men in general, and I wouldn't deny that Thomas thinks Merina a very beautiful young lady, but if he thinks her the MOST beautiful young lady in the world, it is because of other reasons," said Sir Dractor.

The dance ended, and Elendis and Sir Dractor watched the young couple leave the dance floor, Merina leaned rather heavily on Thomas' arm. Elendis nodded to herself as she watched Thomas navigate the mistletoe, or pretend to avoid them altogether.

"You may be right," she nodded. "Certainly, whatever his motives, your young man is most gentlemanly. I really can't believe that Bjarn put up all those foolish things! A truly Dark Forester tradition, I assure you."

"Thomas is a gentleman," nodded Sir Dractor, "and more. I almost wonder what they teach young boys in Hemmerington, for him to have turned out so. I think of myself a gentleman, but I have no courtly manners to match his."

"Country folk always have been manners than city folk," said Elendis. "Although I don't fancy you a city dweller."

"I'm not," said Sir Dractor. "But I started service in war at a rather tender age. Any chance I may have had to learn a different lifestyle was soon extinguished."

"You loved the military life, though," said Elendis, "I can tell. Tell me, though, have you ever loved someone other than the indistinct being that is your country? Did a young lass ever capture your heart?"

"Once," said Sir Dractor quietly, "long ago."

"What happened to her?" asked Elendis.

"I don't know," said Sir Dractor, sadly and truthfully. "I was reassigned, and the enemy attacked, and by the time that was over, I had been assigned to sea. As the years passed, it became harder and harder to worry myself over her fate."

"I know what you mean," said Elendis. "The same thing happened to me. I was in love, but before we could truly get to know each other, we fell into war with the Crusaders, and I was sent to the front. My lover was sent to Orion to appeal for aid. He ended up an ambassador, and by the time he returned, we had drifted apart."

"Whatever happened to him?" asked Sir Dractor. "The Forestman realm is not a huge place, and he must have returned."

"He did," said Elendis, "but it was too late. He was an old man by then, and both married and widows, and I was still young. It is a cruel thing for an Elf to love a Man."

Sir Dractor nodded. The two of them silently turned their gaze back to Thomas and Merina.

"I do not think she'll dance again tonight," said Sir Dractor. "She daren't overexert herself, and she's looking weary after that dance."

"Such a pity," said Elendis. "They danced so much better than you or I. What ailment troubles her?"

Sir Dractor explained what little they did know, and how much they didn't. Elendis shook her head when he was done.

"You should visit the healers of Acklarion, if you get a chance," said Elendis. "I have kin there that specialise in magical ailments."

"There are Elves outside of the Forestman realm?" said Sir Dractor, surprised. "I was under the impression..."

"That there weren't?" finished Elendis. "For the most part, that is correct. There are more Forestman Elves than there are other Elves, period, in Dametreos. However, Acklarion is a rather special exception."

"Thanks for the tip," said Sir Dractor. "If rest and relaxation don't do anything for her, I'll look into that."

There was another moment of silence, and they looked at Thomas and Merina, who were sitting together, talking as the couples waltzed past. Among the couples Sir Dractor caught sight of Estella and Sir Yves, as well as Hans and Cate.

"You may be right about that boy of yours," said Elendis. "I don't think he'll dance again tonight unless she does. Treasure him, Sir Dractor! Men like him are rare!"

"I know that indeed," said Sir Dractor. "That boy is worth more to me than gold."

"Be ready to share him, though," said Elendis. "I've known enough young women to know that she feels for him what he feels for her. I sincerely hope that they never feel the pains of unending seperation." Elendis seemed to look back into her past.

"So do I," said Sir Dractor, remembering a golden-haired maiden from his own youth. "So do I."

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Be ready to share him, though," said Elendis. "I've known enough young women to know that she feels for him what he feels for her. I sincerely hope that they never feel the pains of unending seperation." Elendis seemed to look back into her past.

"So do I," said Sir Dractor, remembering a golden-haired maiden from his own youth. "So do I."

Grid: M-7
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

Elendis and Sir Dractor sat in silence after that, until Bjarn drifted over.

“Good evening, Dractor, Elendis.” smiled Bjarn, “Enjoying yourselves?”

“Very much so.” said Elendis, “Oh, a merry Yuletide greetings to you, cousin.”

A grumpy-looking Gonderin stumped onto the scene.

“Greetings, Milady, Sir, Milord.” said Gonderin.

Elendis pinched her lips together in a mock grimace.

“Whatever is the matter, Gonderin. You’re severely lacking in your usual holiday cheer.”

“It is nothing.” said Gonderin.

Sir Dractor chuckled suddenly.

“I think I know your problem. Just a little harassment from a fan girl?”

Gonderin stiffened.

“It just might be.” he said, “Why do you say that?”

“Because poor Hans’ date appears to be rather distracted.”

Everyone looked. Cate, though dancing with Hans, was staring fixedly in their direction. Or, more precisely, in Gonderin’s direction. Bjarn, Elendis and Sir Dractor laughed. Gonderin said nothing.

“The addition of mistletoe is certainly a creative touch.” said Elendis slyly to Bjarn.

If one squinted enough, one could easily imagine a halo above Bjarn’s head.

“I though so.” said Bjarn, grinning.

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-10
Location: Hemmerington

Drazzuil had returned to Hemmerington. It had not been an assignment he had relished, not in the freezing cold of winter, not at any time. His failure to discover anything about these papers of Harold Brakespear that he was supposed to be looking for didn't sit well with him.

This time, he avoided the village entirely, and would continue to do so until he was certain where the papers were. He had already discovered (although the details were hazy in his memory) that the Hemmeringtoners were dangerous when provoked.

And so he and his men remained camped deep in the wood, far off the main road, while a spy infiltrated the village, and tried to uncover the exact whereabouts of Brakespear's papers, and that Brakespear had left papers was undeniable. The town drunk, Redka, had already revealed that much, although the drunk had no clear idea where they might be.

So Drazzuil remained in his tent, shivering. His only relief was to take walks through the trees and try to warm up, for fire would give them away.

But one day, while Drazzuil was making a wide circuit away from his tent, he was seen.

He never noticed it, so preoccupied was he at keeping moving and keeping warm, but less than two hundred yards from where he jogged, young Paul Korvalt was chopping down the Yule tree for his family's home. And Paul saw him. The young farmer did nothing, but waited until the Fright Knight had gone. Then he cut down the tree, hauled it home, and said nothing to his mother or brothers.

But he did seek out Healer Melkan.

Paul could remember the last time that the Fright Knight had appeared. It had been Melkan who had decided that he was bad news, and had seen to it that he was frightened out of town. The Healer would know what to do now, too.

Melkan, however, merely frowned.

"I don't like this, Paul," he said. "I've been talking with Aelk Borom at the Pu', and there's a guest there who's been asking far too many questions. Pays for all kinds of drinks, but never seems really drunk. He's been asking a lot about old Harold."

"About Mister Brakespear?" said Paul. Melkan nodded.

"I'm taking Aelk's word for this," said Melkan, "but it seems that he's after Harold's papers- and since neither this spy nor this Fright Knight captain seem particularly benevolent, I'd just as soon they didn't get them. There must be something particularly valuable in those papers, if they want them so badly.

"You go home, Paul, and put this out of your mind," said Melkan. "I'll worry about it."

Go home Paul did, and worry Melkan did, until a few days later, the local trapper, Arvey turned up on his doorstep.

"I didn't know 'ou else to tell," explained Arvey. "I'd tell Jarva, but seein' as I was poachin' on what's technically King's Land, I don' think he'd like it."

"What's the problem?" asked Melkan.

"It's like this, see," said Arvey. "I was huntin' hares down by the creek, which is technically the King's Preserve, and I noticed this camp of rather cold fellers. I sidled on over and had a looksie, and what do I see but a bunch of Fright Knight soldiers, freezin' in a little hidden campsite and no sign of a fire at all. And I thought, man, these guys must be doin' somethin' wrong, so's I came back to the village, and decided I oughta let somebody know, but I couldn't tell Jarva, and I couldn't think of anybody else, so's I came to you."

"Thank you, Arvey," said Melkan. "How many were there?"

"Musta been a good twenty that I saw," said Arvey. "Though's there might have been a few more, since there were ten tents, and they could have each a held four, if they hadda been a wanting."

Melkan frowned.

"Thank you, Arvey," he said. "I'll think of something. In the meantime, stay away from that area, and don't tell anyone what you saw."

Even as Arvey trudged away, Melkan was deep in thought. Twenty, possibly as many as forty, Fright Knight soldiers was bad news. They clearly wanted those papers badly. And the only thing stopping them was their captain's caution and Redka's ignorance. It was only a matter of time until either the Fright Knights learned what they wanted, or they came in force into the village, and Melkan harboured no delusions about what thirty or so Fright Knights could do to his community. Visions of half the village dead floated in his head.

"What we need," he said to himself, "is a hero. A great warrior. Unfortunately, we don't seem to have any of those around here..."

However, the thought came to Melkan's mind that a hero HAD visited the village recently, and he had gone away with one of their own. That big knight, Sir Dractor. And he had taken away Thomas Valt as his squire- Thomas who was the grandson of Harold Brakespear, and the proper owner of his papers.

But where was Thomas? Melkan could recall some talk of him going to Drullen Bell. But would he still be there? However, he also recalled a piece of news from that trio of foreign teenagers, about Thomas and Sir Dractor having led a Forestman navy into battle for Jewel Reef. Clearly, this Sir Dractor was a Forestman, and where else to find a high-ranking Forestman at Yuletide but at Drullen Bell?

The only question, then, was who to go to Thomas. Melkan could go himself, but he was aging, and he wanted to watch the village himself, until help came. Besides, he was too prominent not to be missed.

Unwilling to seperate families at Yuletide, Melkan decided on asking Brian Broughton, whom he trusted anyway. Inviting the cooper over one night, he told him of all his information and fears, and asked him to go to Drullen Bell and find Thomas Valt and Sir Dractor. Brian agreed.

"I'll just say I'm going to visit my sister in Josstshire," said Brian. "It's Yuletide, so it'll be believeable. I'll leave tomorrow!"

"Be careful," said Melkan, "even if no Fright Knights are bothering to watch the roads, the weather will get you!"

[Sir Kohran]

At this point, Gaeth strode up, his stern face focused on something in his calloused hands that was all too familiar to Cal.

Grid: E-11
Location: Port Jozef

It was a rub'n'buff style helmet, with large horns potruding from either side. It was almost exactly identical to the one Cal had found earlier that week.

"Where did you get that?" Cal asked.

"A man, over there. Selling it as an 'antique'."

"Where did he get his hands on anything like that?" Cal asked again.

"During a raid, presumably."

"These raiders don't take much care of their equipment," Cal muttered. outloud, he spoke: "So they must have a large store somewhere, probably with a smithy too. I guess that's where they go after they attack. Is it that man still there?"

"No," Gaeth grunted, looking behind him. "He left. A few minutes ago."

"Tyco!" Cal swore, before remembering his position as a man of chivalry.

"Ahem, anyway, we've got to go and visit the captain of that ship." he finished heavily.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Humiliating Ajaxx is noble?" said Elbadar.

"Any revenge is noble," said Lord Void, "since it reckons nothing of cost or honour."

"I don't see how that is supposed to work," said Elbadar.

"Naturally," said Lord Void.

Presenting the Dragon Master Holiday Special for your reading pleasure!

Grid: H-11
Location: Dracis Ini

The days passed slowly for Elbadar. Lord Void often remained locked in his own private chamber, scheming and calculating. Opal was kept busy constantly providing food and other necessities to the Dragon Masters, but Elbadar was bored, as was Japheth. The two Dragon Masters tried talking once or twice, but they really had nothing in common, except that they were being hunted by King Ajaxx. Japheth was bitter, but Elbadar was simply bored. The exploration of Dracis Ini had yielded in nothing of interest: the old dragon breeding grounds was nothing more than dank cave, only inhabited now by the refugees and Lord Void’s black dragon.

The monotony was broken, at last, one late December morning. Elbadar awoke to find himself in a place totally unexpected: a faerie ice castle.

“What the--?”

Elbadar sat up, tangling his head in a swath of tinsel. He was about to reach for his trusty bottle of Tums when one of his Dragon Masters, a bulky man by the name of Boreq, entered Elbadar’s quarters via a twinkling transparent door.

“A merry Yuletide to you, sir!” bellowed Boreq.

Elbadar stood. Boreq was not one that usually partook in merriment of any kind. He also never wore furry pink feather boas.

“Private Boreq, what is going on?” snapped Elbadar. His hand fingered the bottle of Tums. Those mushrooms the witch Opal had grown for them must be getting to him.

“Missus Opal’s done a little decorating!” said Boreq happily, “For the Yuletide!”

Elbadar pushed past Boreq and his pink boa and out the icy door. He found himself in a glittery hallway. Life-like glass faeries and cherubs floated about his head, singing Yuletide tunes in insanely high pitches. Elbadar arrived in what had been the main room of the Dracis Ini quarters. It was totally unrecognizable. A large Yule tree seemed to have grown out of the rock itself. Each branch was sagging under the weight of twinkling tinsel, gaudy baubles, and glowing lights. Atop it sat a golden dragon figurine. Elbadar, in a daze, walked around the tree. Several other Dragon Masters were in the room, some looking incredulous, others jolly. The jolly one had already supped a few pints of eggnog.

A sound from behind Elbadar made him jump and look around. Three four-foot-tall animated nutcrackers were continuously scooping up nuts with their knobby wooden hands, shoving them into their mouths, and shattering the shells easily. Their painted eyes stared lifelessly. Elbadar, somewhat disturbed, quickly walking away. He bumped into Japheth. A red cap with a bobbing white tassel was perched on his head.

“A very merry Yuletide to ye!” said Japheth, obviously a bit tipsy himself.

Elbadar raised an eyebrow.

“And…to you, to, Japheth.” he said slowly.

“Opal be just wonderful, be she not?” said Japheth, “She put this all together herself. Overnight! Such talent!”

“Oh, Jaffy, you’re too kind!” giggled Opal.

She appeared from behind the Yule tree, floating precisely on her broom. Elbadar blinked. Opal had foregone her usual attire of silky black and was instead wearing a rather skimpy elf suit.

“Here, Elbadar, have some eggnog.” said Opal, producing a glass out of thin air.

Elbadar took it hesitatingly.

“Go on!” Opal urged.

Elbadar took a tip. His eyes widened.

“That…is good!” he said.

Opal giggled.

“There’s a whole barrel over there.” she said, indicating with her starry wand, “Right next to the smoked turkey and figgy pudding.”

“Excellent!”

Elbadar at once mad his way to the sagging table. Everything was there -- mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey, green bean casserole, biscuits…Elbadar’s mouth watered. To the left of him, some of his and Japheth’s troops had struck up their own version of a carol.

“Jingle bells, Ajaxx smells, Del Grakken laid an egg…”

Elbadar dipped his cup into the barrel of eggnog and took a deep drink. He suddenly had the feeling of someone watching him and he turned about. Lord Void was lurking in a corner, next to a fireplace hung with numerous red stockings. He was glowering and chewing conspicuously on a candy cane.

“I never knew a Fright Knight could be so festive.” said Lord Void idly.

Elbadar hiccupped.

“This eggnog is rather good.” he said, taking another swing.

“I shall not envy you come tomorrow.” said Lord Void.

Elbadar continued drinking. He looked about. Opal decorations that he at first disliked were now looking quite pretty…very pretty…

“Pretty bows…” he said, indicating numerous wrapped gifts under the tree, “I’m surprised you let her put this lot up.” he added.

“I didn’t.” said Lord Void, “Witches, and all women for that matter, are rather set in their ways. And I can endure one day of holiday insanity for three-hundred and six-four days of provided necessities.”

Lord Void paused. Strains of "Deck The Halls with wreaths of hemlock, mwhahahahahahaha!" floated across the room

“…barely.” Lord Void added.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“Boats make him emotional.” said Santis quietly in explanation, "Take no heed of him."

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island

Eventually Viktor did return, still in a huff, but now stoically silent. Night was falling and Santis gathered wood while Storm and Mikelen went off to hunt for game. Viktor glared at the fire Santis lit, his knees drawn up to his chin. Jaythus sat nearby, idly running sand through his hands. Finally he looked up at Solesstorn and said, “So…why are we here?”

Santis turned to listen. Viktor’s back stiffened, which meant he was listening in as well.

“There is an artifact here. The Heart Of Ages. We must collect it if we are to defect Vermicus.” said Solesstorn.

Jaythus blinked in awe.

“But I thought the Heart was only a myth, a legend.”

“All myths must be inspired by something.” said Solesstorn, “The Heart Of Ages is as real as you and me.”

“But the legend says the Heart Of Ages resided in the Citadel of Orlan.” said Jaythus.

“It did…until my brother fell.” said Solesstorn quietly, “The Shadow Knights took it then, and brought it here…to Solitaire, island of curses.”

“But the Heart Of Ages was supposed to be a great weapon!” Jaythus objected, “Why didn’t the Shadow Knights just use it for themselves? And what’s so bad about this island?”

“They were afraid of it.” said Solesstorn, “The Heart Of Ages contains immense power. They didn’t want to trigger a disastrous event by setting it off. As for this island…”

Solesstorn looked about. He looked uneasy.

“Had it not occurred to you that this island is…a bit strange?”

“In what way?” grunted Santis.

Solesstorn sighed.

“Look. We’re on the very edge of the map of Dametreos. We can’t go any further. We’re as north as we can go without leaving Dametreos. It’s the end of December. And we’re on a tropical island in the North Sea. Lion Isle, south of us, is under five feet of snow!”

“I prefer sand to snow, myself.” said Viktor, speaking for the first time in while.

Solesstorn shook his head.

“Solitaire is under a powerful spell. Dark or light, I know not. But something that bends or breaks the laws of nature is something to be wary of.”

“Well,” said Viktor, “If something nasty was going to happen, wouldn’t have it happened already?”

“I prefer paranoia to laxity.” snapped Solesstorn.

“Suit yourself.” sighed Viktor.

[Sir Kohran]

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island

“It did…until my brother fell.” said Solesstorn quietly, “The Shadow Knights took it then, and brought it here…to Solitaire, island of curses.”

"How did they get their hands on it?" Santis said, his contempt for Shadow Knights showing in his voice.

"As I said, several months ago, the Shield of Ages was smashed to bits when Vermicus fell. The pieces were blasted everywhere, all across Dametreos. Who knows here they are now? But anyhow, that's beside the point. The point is that, oddly enough, it was a fleeing Shadow Knight who stumbled across the most important piece of the Shield, the Heart. He showed his companions and they were convinced it was the Heart. So they brought it here."

“But the Heart Of Ages was supposed to be a great weapon!” Jaythus objected, “Why didn’t the Shadow Knights just use it for themselves? And what’s so bad about this island?”

“They were afraid of it.” said Solesstorn, “The Heart Of Ages contains immense power. They didn’t want to trigger a disastrous event by setting it off.

"But it goes a lot deeper than just common sense. You see, the Shadow Knights that found the Heart were not of the same stuff that monsters like Vladek were made of. There were quite a few Shadow Knights in Vermicus's legions who were dissastisfied with serving under him, and by extension, Lord Inion the Terrible hismelf, and who did not like being slaves to a leader who considered expendable soldiers to be wasted on enemy ranks. But being mere men, they couldn't hope to rebel against Vermicus.

"However, when Vermicus was thrown down, they had the perfect chance to break away. Fortunately for us, it was these good-hearted Shadow Knights who recovered the Heart from the barren plains of Ankoria. They knew it had terrible power locked in it, and so didn't try to use it. The rebel Shadow Knights hid the Heart on this island, and later formed a group called the Cult of Shadows, which was dedicated to hiding the Heart from all comers. Eventually, though, this developed into a sort of...xenophobia for the other factions, and the other factions themselves became wary of them, just as they did with the Fright Knights.

As for this island…"

Solesstorn looked about. He looked uneasy.

“Had it not occurred to you that this island is…a bit strange?”

“In what way?” grunted Santis.

Solesstorn sighed.

“Look. We’re on the very edge of the map of Dametreos. We can’t go any further. We’re as north as we can go without leaving Dametreos. It’s the end of December. And we’re on a tropical island in the North Sea. Lion Isle, south of us, is under five feet of snow!”

“I prefer sand to snow, myself.” said Viktor, speaking for the first time in while.

Solesstorn shook his head.

“Solitaire is under a powerful spell. Dark or light, I know not. But something that bends or breaks the laws of nature is something to be wary of.”

“Well,” said Viktor, “If something nasty was going to happen, wouldn’t have it happened already?”

“I prefer paranoia to laxity.” snapped Solesstorn.

“Suit yourself.” sighed Viktor.

The Easterner continued grumbling. "And anyway, we've already missed Yuletide, so it can't get any worse. Huh! I'd rather have snow to sand, if it meant not missing Yuletide. I was going to go to the Frestmen dance this year, as well..."

Santis shook his head. "Oh, quit yer moaning, Vik. I don't know about you, but I'd rather face a frontline of Orcs than a frontline of women."

Viktor didn't agree. "I'd rather face a frontline of good beer mugs and good women than a frontline of Orcs. And we're not gonna find either on this buildit island..."

Santis had had enough. "Oh shut up," he said grumpily, "You were always going on about having nothing to kill, back when we were in the army. And besides, what chance have you got of getting a woman, with your constant grumbling?"

"As if you're one to talk!" Viktor snapped. "None of the women have ever wanted a giant like you, with that big messy beard of yours."

"Sticks and stones, Vik," Santis said, in a resigned voice.

At this point, Viktor descended into a wealth of swearwords describing anything and everything he found bad about his situation. Solesstorn sighed quietly. "Soldiers," he muttered to himself. "Big, loud, and desperate to fight something. They're all the same..."

Almost ten minutes later, Jaythus interrupted Viktor's continuing description.

"Umm...it's almost dark. Shouldn't Storm and Mikelen be back by now?"

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Almost ten minutes later, Jaythus interrupted Viktor's continuing description.

"Umm...it's almost dark. Shouldn't Storm and Mikelen be back by now?"

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island

Solesstorn gripped his staff nervously.

“I’ll go search for them.” offered Santis, grunting and rising to his feet.

“No!” snapped Solesstorn, “We must stay together. We must not split up!”

“You let Storm and Mikelen go off!” said Jaythus.

Solesstorn glowered.

“Yes…well…they are exceptions.”

“Exceptions?” said Jaythus, “How?”

“They were not…originally part of my plan.” said Solesstorn, “They are expendables.”

“Expendables!” Viktor leapt to his feet, drawing his sword, “People aren’t expendables! What kind of sick son of a tyco are you?”

“All I am saying--”

“All you’re saying is that you don’t care who gets slaughtered and who gets uprooted just so long as your megabloks buildit plan is followed!”

Viktor kicked sand into the fire, causing it to sputter, “By the tyco Wooden Duck! I don’t shifty-brick believe this!”

Santis was frowning. Jaythus looked scared.

“I’m going off to find them,” cried Viktor, “and the Wooden Duck help you if you try and stop me!”

With that, Viktor left the camp. He crashed through the undergrowth, cursing non-stop. He had no idea where he was going, but luckily he quite literally ran into Storm.

“Oof!”

“Viktor!” she snapped, “What’s was that for?”

“Hello, expendable.” grunted Viktor.

“What?”

Storm’s eyes darkened.

“Oh, that’s just what our dear old leader and protector thinks of you and your silent chum.” said Viktor, brushing himself off.

Storm looked puzzled.

“What?”

“This island is dangerous.” said Viktor, “That tyco wizard admitted it himself. You guys were running late, but he wouldn’t let Santis go look for you. Didn’t want to split up the group.”

“Then…” said Storm slowly, chewing on her lip, “Why did he let us go off?”

Viktor spat into the bushes.

“Exactly.”

Storm’s forehead was now creased with worry.

“What took you so long, anyway?” asked Viktor.

“I was coming back as fast as I could.” said Storm, “I’ve lost Mikelen.”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“You might as well save your breath.” said Adrian calmly, “What you’re implying is entirely false.”

Hans snickered.

“Suuuuuure…”

Grid: M-7
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

Adrian stoically refused to be bated by Hans, and eventually Hans gave up.

“Have fun with your lady friend.” he grunted, and left.

Adrian did, in fact, have an enjoyable time when the lady Downer returned. They engaged in a most in vocal but polite debate regarding the exclusion of the character of Lid Abmobmot from playwright Pierre Jacquesson’s theatre version of The Lord Of The LEGO. Cate, meanwhile, remained continuously entranced by Gonderin. Hans left Cate to her fantasies and began to wander about the Great Hall, staring at the dancing couples. Eventually Bjarn approached him, a young lady on his arm.

“Good evening, Hans.” greeted Bjarn, his eyes twinkling.

“Hey, Bjarn.” said Hans, his eyes on the lady. She had flaming red hair and appeared to be about a year young than Hans.

“Virginia Willowbark.” introduced Bjarn, “Hans Lentawl. I saw you two wandering about aimlessly on either sides of the room and I thought you’d like to meet.”

“Er…hey.” said Hans.

“Hi.” smiled Virginia.

“Well,” said Bjarn brightly, “Since you two have hit it off so well, I’ll just…ah, yes, I believe Gonderin wishes to talk to me.”

With a cheery wave, Bjarn departed. Hans looked to where Gonderin was slouching near the punch bowl, stoically looking away from where Cate was batting her eyes. Apparently the elf had no had no intentions to talk to Lord Bjarn. Virginia looked where Hans was looking and laughed.

“Lord Bjarn is such a matchmaker!” she said.

“Uh…yeah.” said Hans. He attention was now fully upon Virginia.

“So…you’re a Forester, Virginia?”

“Call me Ginny.” she said, winking, “I hate the name Virginia. Makes me sound like a queen!”

Hans laughed. Unexpectedly, Ginny took his arm as they began to walk.

“Yes, I’m a Forester. I’ve lived at Drullen Bell all my life. My dad’s a Fright Knight and my mom’s a Crusader.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Ginny laughed, “Weird combination, isn’t it?”

Hans took a drink of punch but his chin didn’t seem to be working properly, and some of it dribbled onto his shirt.

“Oops!” said Ginny, “I’ll fix that!”

She whipped out what appeared to be a wand and a moment later the stain was gone.

“How’d you do that?” gaped Hans.

“I’m a witch.” said Ginny, “I got my powers from my dad.”

“Sweetness.”

The current dance ended and the band struck up a faster-paced, more lively tune.

“Oh, I like this song!” said Ginny, “C’mon, let’s dance!”

“Okay…”


Across the room, Adrian excused himself from the Lady Downer, turned to get a drink, then did a double-take. He had thought he had seen Hans and Cate dancing, but that couldn’t be, because Cate was nearby staring fixedly at Gonderin. Adrian looked again. Hans was dancing with another young lady, about his age, who had red hair just like Cate. He tapped Cate on the shoulder. She looked around reluctantly.

“What?”

“Check out Hans’ hot new date.” said Adrian through a grin.

Cate peered hard at Hans and Ginny.

“Hmm.”

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” said Adrian

Cate said nothing. Her attention that had been so completely fixed on Gonderin was now focused on Hans and Ginny.

“Amazing how Hans’ skill at dancing has suddenly improved in -- ah -- leaps and bounds.” quipped Adrian.

Cate said nothing.

“I say.” said Adrian, “They’re heading into dangerous territory…”

Clumps of mistletoe now were looming near the couple’s heads. Unexpectedly, Ginny kissed Hans full on the lips.

Cate’s punch glass that she had been holding shattered.

Adrian whooped.

“Score!” he cried.

“Shut up!” hissed Cate.

The dance ended. The midnight bell began to toll. The Forestmen Yule Dance was over. Ginny separated from Hans, and with a wave, left the Great Hall as the other guests began to surge out. Hans remained rigid, a black look on his face. The Great Hall was nearly empty when Adrian and Cate walked up -- or stomped up, in Cate’s case -- to Hans.

“Enjoying yourself?” grinned Adrian

“Life rocks.” said Hans, a grin spreading over his face.

Cate snorted.

[The Green Knight]

An out of synk post that takes place in Orion, on the night of the great ball.

PS. Don't think of it as a clump. Think of it as a large amount of text made to spring board this story into a bunch of smaller posts, to be written in regular succession over the next few months.

Meanwhile, back at the Gaudy Goose, Worthington the carriage driver was awakened from his dozing by a nudge from Gib.

“Wha— Oh, Master Rigger. Wh-what brings you out ‘ere, this time o’ night?”

“Can you take me someplace?”

“Well yes zur. Where to? The ball?”

“No, someplace else.”

~
An empty horse-drawn carriage rattled along the dark, cobblestone streets of Orion, aiming for the northern gates. Ridding above in the coachman’s seat sat two people. Gib and Worthington.

“Ah!” Worthington gave a long contented sigh, obviously brought on by the deep breath he’d just taken. “You smell that breeze comin’ down from the north? Novin’ quoite loike that fresh country air.”

Gib was inclined to agree with Worthington, though he didn’t say it.

“Were you born in the country?” Gib asked as they rolled out through the open gates of the city.

“Oi sure was. Not too far from the plaice we’re ‘eaded actually. That’s ‘ow I know where to toike ya. ‘Course that was before Oi came to work for the Peregils. But that’s anover story all togever an’ one for a longer excursion then this.”
~

By the way, I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“Not now, Malder. I’m sorry, but I’m on duty.” He started off to question more guests, but turned again, shouting back: “I have a half hour break at midnight. Find me then.”

~
It was midnight. The fireworks display was in full swing and the loud cracklings from without could be heard clearly by the two men walking aimlessly down one of the empty corridors of the Yellow Castle.

“…So how is my son doing in his training? Staying out of trouble I trust.”

“For the most part.” Said E’terriole, smiling faintly. “He is quick tempered and ready to take offence, but he does genuinely care for the men in his command. Reminds me of you at that age and your father as well, though to a lesser extent.”

Now it was Malder’s turn to smile. Marcellinus had been under his father’s command long ago and as he rose in rank, came to be friends with the man who would one day sire Malder Perigil. If not for this friendship, Malder would likely never have met the colonel.

“And now after his promotion—” E’tteriole tried to continue.

“Promotion?”

“Yes,” said the colonel, excusing the interruption. “didn’t you hear? Your son’s been promoted to Lieutenant-Major. Quite an accomplishment for a fellow of his age.”

“Quite,” Malder agreed slowly, only half in the conversation. “Though I do wonder why he would refrain from writing us about this. You don’t think he’s being shown favoritism due to his lineage?”

“Who knows.” Said Marcellinus. “He certainly received none from me, but I am not in charge of all such actions. Is this…” The colonel paused as if trying to formulate how best to articulate his next sentence. “Is this all that you wished to speak with me on? Surely there must be something else besides this friendly blathering.”

There was something else on Malder’s mind, it was true. A subject that wasn’t anything near friendly blathering. “What do you know about the name Belphinigib?”

“Belphinigib? Let me see… Ah yes, an old family if I remember rightly, blessed with many daughters, yet not many sons. Definitely one of the smaller families in Orion’s history though always respected for their honor and loyalty to the crown. There has always been a Belphinigib in the ranks of the king’s bodyguard. At least until the war, that is. The Belphinigib’s were hit pretty hard in BloodVaine’s first attack. I’m afraid what few men there were who carried that name were wipped out. I would be surprised indeed to find that any still remained alive.”

“You know your stuff.”

“I’m almost solely in charge of rebuilding the cavaliers.” E'terriole smirked. “I have to know my stuff. Why the inquiries anyway?”

Malder frowned. “Suppose, just for the moment, that I had found a man of that name, a Belphinigib. What would his duties be?”

“I suspect that he wouldn’t have any duties beyond those of a man in any knighted family. Beside those due to King and country, he would only have matters of inheritance to deal with.”

“Inheritance?”

“Yes, if he was the last in his line then he would be, by law, entitled to any wealth or lands his family had left behind. Not so much in this case, but still notable. Have you found such a man?”

“Yes, my brother, er half brother as it happens to be. He’s been gone from the kingdom for many years and has only just come back into Legoland. You see why I wanted to talk to you.”

E'terriole nodded. “You want me to enlist him in the cavaliers I suppose. Maybe tell you where to start in the acquisition of his inheritance.”

“Exactly. He’s a good man, but he’s restless and likely to wander off again. Drafting him into the cavaliers would keep him here and as you said, he’s a knight by heritage. It’s his duty to serve the Emperor. Now he’s not proficient with any weapons, but I’m sure our training system could fix that. I brought him along to Orion so he could see the city, but since he’s here, perhaps you’d like to enlist him right away. He’s staying with us at the Gaudy Goose.”

E'terriole considered this for a moment and then…“Well I’m still free for a little while. Show me to this…this?…

“Rigger,” Malder answered. “Rigger Belphinigib.”
~
“Woah there, Canterbry” The coachman coed, bringing the horse to a halt beside a wide, expansive field. “Well, ‘ere we are, Master Belphinigib. Gate’s Toll.”

Gib turned, looking out over the field of green, his prospect illuminated by the moon, the coachman’s lantern and the lights from Orion. And by those lights and the sight of his own eyes he could see the hundreds of white, wooden crosses in rolling rows and columns, stretching far away into the blackness of night. It was the graveyard of the battle for Orion.

“Used to be a field ‘ere.” Worthington piped up. “I ought to know fer Oi used ta live around these parts. Crops was sown an’ grown in this very plaice. Rye, mostly. An, now it’s a….” The cabby sighed and continued. “So many dead. It’s alwmost enough to make your ‘eart broik.”

“Did you lose someone in battle?” The hermit questioned.

“Oh no. Most of me own family was fortunate enough to pass on befowe this ‘append. But… there’s barely one ofver person Oi know that ‘asn’t lost someon’. You?”

“I…I did lose someone.” The hermit’s voice was quiet and he paused for a moment staring blankly across the sea of grave markers. “He’s out there somewhere. Somewhere in this mix of loyal Forestmen and traitorous Dragon Masters. They tell me…. They tell me there was a man- an ally of BloodVaine’s- who turned upon the wizard and stopped the force of dragons, bearing down on those warriors sent to end his reign. Do you know if that’s true?

“Well Oi don’t think it’s liokly ta be false. Oi’ve ‘eard that saime tale mesewf an’ from folks ‘oo aren’t in the ‘abit of loying. The Deceiver, that’s what they called ‘im. They awlso saiy that ’e died after the battow. Leastwaiys no un’s ever seen ‘im again. An’ if ‘e did die, at least ‘e redeemed ‘imsewf before ‘e went.”

“You think so?”

“Well…don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Can one great, good deed redeem a lifetime of wrongs? And what difference is it, the way a man dies? The act of dying is, after all, such a small part of ones life. I don’t know….but this I am certain of: He had changed before the end and I will be forever grateful.”

At this point Worthington began to realize the connection between the Deceiver and the friend Gib had lost. But he was a wiser man then he seemed, Worthington, and he didn’t question the hermit further.

“Ought we to be getting’ back ‘ome to the inn then Master Belphinigib?”

“Yes, yes by all means.” And they started back for Orion.
~
But Gib and Worthington were not the only ones heading back to Orion. On the road leading out from the eastern gate, Walf was returning home. There was a frown on his face and no wonder, for he had failed the mission on which he was embarked.

It had been a busy day at the Gold Wallow, with all of its unruly guests and by the time the last Dragon Master had passed out from intoxication, Walf was ready to follow suit. Though his excuse would have been exhaustion, rather then too much beer.

Still, Walf resisted the urge to curl up in a corner and close his drooping eyelids. He was concerned, you see. Dale hadn’t turned up and Walf was resolved to search for him. With not but a lantern to light his steps, he had hastened out the eastern gate and up the nearby hills into the trees. He had trodden those slopes many times before, with two swords buckled around his waist. Back in the evenings when he and Dale had practiced swinging their swords together in a clearing not far from the first hills. It was in this clearing that Walf had hoped to find Dale. The boy knew that Dale was hesitant to go places in public for fear of being seen. Perhaps he was still in the clearing.

He wasn’t of course and that was the reason for the frown, carried by the weary Walf as he trudged back to the eastern gate. “Ah well,” the boy sighed in the stillness. “perhaps he’ll turn up tomorrow.”
~
“He isn’t here. I’m sorry E’terriole, this is, well…most unexpected. I can’t think of where they might have gone.”

“I understand.” Said the Captain-Colonel, returning his hat to its familiar perch. “but I cannot wait for their return. Perhaps another day. Will you be returning to the ball?”

“No, I feel it best if I should stay here until their return. Serieta can ride back in a coach if my chauffeur doesn’t return in time.”

“Verry well.” Said Marcellinus, ascending back into the coach and signaling the cabby to sally fourth. “Until we meet again Malder.”
~
“Quiet noight, eh?” said Worthington, remarking on the emptiness of the streets as he urged Canterbry on in his course back to the inn.

“Oi say it’s a quiet noight, eh?” he repeated again when Gib didn’t answer.

“What? Oh yes, quite quiet indeed. I’m sorry…I was…thinking.”

“Well odveriously.”

Gib had indeed been thinking. Making plans to be precise. The city was making him restless and he had decided to return to the forest that very night. He would wait until Malder and Serieta came back from the ball, say his good byes and be off.

It was time to go back. Sure, Gib missed the Neverwood, but it was more then that. The hermit had to return. He had to go back and find out what had become of his forest –his home- after the pendant’s destruction had torn through. Such an earthshaking event surely could not have gone without repercussions and Gib was anxious to see what the damage was.

Yes, he was ready to go back, but it wasn’t going to be easy, not if the scowling figure awaiting them in front of the Guady Goose was any indication of things.

“Where were you, Rigger?” Malder demanded as the coach clattered down to a silent halt in front of the inn.

“Well master Perigil!” Worthington exclaimed genially, “We wasn’t expecting you til after the fireworks were done, zur.”

“Silence, Worthington!” the baron snapped. “I was addressing my brother.”

“I was out.” Said Gib, failing to understand the tone of hostility under which he was being interrogated. “Visiting an old friend. Is that a problem?”

“A problem?!” Malder exclaimed with slightly less hostility then may have been expected. He glanced over to the chauffeur who was looking away, pretending to not notice the conversation. “Worthington.”

“Yes zur?”

“Go fourth to the ball and bring back Serieta when she is ready to return. Rigger may oblige me with his presence here. I have needful things to discuss with him.”

“Alright,” said Gib, as Worthington clattered off down the street. “What was that all about?”

“You ought to have stayed put, Rigger. There was someone I wanted you to meet.”

“Oh. Someone important I gather, by that look about your face. Who on earth was it?”

“Marcellinus E'terriole, if you need know and yes, it was important.”

“The commander?” said Gib, remembering the name from an overheard conversation. “Why would you want me to meet him?”

Malder hesitated at first, but then turned his resolve to speech. “I had meant you to hear this while E'terriole was present, Rigger, but I suppose there can be little harm in telling you now. You’ve been staying with us in the region of you birth for many months now, you know, and…well, I think it’s time you came to fulfil your place as a knight of the emperor.”

The hermit’s mouth dropped open but no words issued forth. There it was again. The very thing that had prompted him to run away years earlier was once more confronting him on the very night he had planned to begin his journey to the Neverwood. He had grown a great deal since then, but he still held a sort of reluctance towards becoming a cavalier. “Knight?” Gib stammered. “But I’m not a knight.”

“Not officially, no. But it is your position by birth. With a year or two training, you’ll be fit to command the rank of cavalier beside the rest of his majesty’s chargers.”

“But…but I can’t”

Malder’s face grew grim. “Can’t? I fail to see why you couldn’t. A once broken leg is a trifle of a wound in the cavaliers. Moreover, you needn’t be the strongest soldier, only the most loyal.”

“Ah, you don’t understand.” Said Gib, thinking of his plans of leaving. “That’s not it at all. I’m needed somewhere else.” Gib sighed “Mother and the children already know. I- I was waiting for the right time to tell you and Serita, but… I’m going back to the Neverwood.”

The baron’s face seemed to become slightly pale at these words. “I don’t believe it. You’re deserting again! You can’t! Not again, Rigger! Mother always stood up for you, you know that. She said you resented knighthood because it had taken away you father, and that’s why you ran away. I’m never was so sure. Father knew that story too. He said you ran off because you were afraid of becoming a knight, afraid of a soldier’s death. Afraid of the fate that befell him and brother not one year ago. I allow that you may have been a coward then, Rigger, but I thought you had grown out of it.”

“That has nothing to do with it!” said Gib, trying to convince himself as much as his brother. “I had leaving in mind long before I knew you want to draft me. Look, I know I shouldn’t have left the first time, but I have other duties now. Other things that need to be seen to.”

“Duties! Duties to what, the Neverwood? What about your duty to your king, Rigger? What about duties to your home land?”

“The Neverwood is my home!” said Gib almost shouting. “I’ve spent more years there then I have here. I’m going back!”

“You presume you have a choice in the matter!” said Malder, angrily building the escalating argument. “We have laws against this kind of thing, Rigger. If need be, I can have you put under lock and key.”

The hermit looked startled at first, upon the proposal of an impending incarceration, but his features soon softened and he spoke. “What are you going to do Malder? Clap me in irons? You wouldn’t do that to me. Not over this. I know you better then that.”

Malder nearly began a bold defense of his threat, but as Gib’s words worked through his mind, he was forced to admit his brother was right.

“What about Mother?” The baron sighed. His best arguments had failed and all he had left was the real reason he wanted Gib to stay. “It…it gives me no great pleasure to say this Rigger, but the truth of it is undeniable. Since you returned, Mother has been well...better. She’s had more energy, more joy. And not once since you came back has she turned to her silent, sad rememberings as she did after my father and brother were killed. You hold her heart Rigger. You do. And you can’t leave again.”

Now, the hermit was truly touched by his brother’s honesty and resting a hand on Malder’s shoulder, responded with equal sincerity. “If I thought for a moment, brother, that my leaving would be such a blow to those I loved, not even the thought of it would touch my mind. But you are wrong Malder. I hold no more of her heart then you or any member of your family. Surely you must see that.”

But Malder shook his head. “I see only that which is there, Rigger. And what I see is a woman who cannot live without you. Oh, hang it all, Rigger! Is there nothing I can say to make you understand? What of you father? You are the last man in all of Dametreos holding the name of Belphinigib. Surely I’ve told you that. I doubt that the promise of an inheritance will sway you, but think of your father’s legacy. What have you done to further his name? He would want you to follow in his steps.”

For once Gib had no defense to the baron’s arguments. “It is true, what you say, Malder. I have done little to uphold my family name. But I have to trust that such an opportunity will present itself latter. I can’t explain why, but this is something I need to see through.”

The hermit stood there at a loss for words. He couldn’t explain it to Malder and the look on his brother’s face was tearing his heart out. What more could he say? Slowly the hermit turned.

Malder watched silently as Gib hung his head and walked away, down the street. Was he wrong to want Gib to stay? Was he wrong to think of his mother’s well being? Surely no one could question his motives. His brother seemed certain that everything would be alright, but Malder wasn’t so sure. He watched Gib continue down the street, only the slightest limp detectable, until he disappeared into the shadows. How Malder craved the cruelty to reach out and stop him. But he knew he could not and as the hermit disappeared, he was once again taken by an awful sense of foreboding.

[Robin Hood]

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton

In the days since Aiden received his reward, he had spent it the best way he could. He had counted his money, all 15,000 coins of it just for the heck of it, deposited in the local bank under his and Kae-Os' names, then, taking some coins with him, he had explored Castleton. He had sampled every inn and pub's ale. Gave a couple ladies the flutters, then headed to The Waving Wand. After having several drinks bought for him as people eagerly listened to his slightly embellished tale of Cloak's hunt, he noticed a woman sitting in a corner, looking out a window.

The lady was not to unattractive. Her clothes, though once fine and rich, were worn, and she had no makeup and her hair was a carefully controlled mess, held back in a loose ponytail. Despite her bedraggled appearance, Aiden felt drawn to her, partly because she looked rather sad staring out into the snowy evening. After excusing himself from his audience, he made his way over to her.

"Is this spot taken ma'am?" Asked Aiden, holding two ales.

The lady looked up, surprised to see anybody looking at her. "No, but I am not really in the mood for company." She turned to look back out the window.

Aiden would be put off so easily. He sat down across from her. "Can I offer you an ale?" He passed one of his glasses to her.

The woman looked even more surprised. She took the glass with a quiet, "thanks".

"I am guessing that you have not had one yet today." Commented Aiden. Judging by her appearance, she hadn't eaten either.

"No." The girl seemed reluctant to talk.

Still not allowing her to put him off, Aiden said, "You know, I have always admired silent women. Seems that most don't know when to stop talking."

Something he said must have infuriated the woman, for she stood up and frostily said, "thank you for the drink. I must be going now." She walked out the pub.

Aiden sat there stunned for a second, trying to figure out what he had said that was so wrong. Before he figured it out, he realized that the woman had not had a cloak on, nor had she taken one from the coat rack. Aiden realized that she was not very well off at all.

Jumping up, he dashed out the pub after her. He found her huddled in an alley quietly crying. "Go away." She said as he approached.

"Sorry lady, but I am not about to let someone freeze to death just because I can't talk. Won't you come back inside?"

The woman looked at him. "Why do you care what happens to me. I have no money and I'm not that good looking. Even if I was, I am not about to be fooled by that smooth talk again."

Aiden realized that the lady probably was in the financial situation she was because of a bad love affair or two. He decided to completely give up any plans of anything. Instead he said, "I'm sorry for what I said. My friend often tells me I don't know when or how to shut up. But won't you please come in, somewhere. I won't do anything. I just want to help you. No one should be left out in the cold, epically so close to Yuletide."

The woman looked up at him, but said nothing. She did not object though when he draped his cloak over her. He then led her, not back to the pub, but to the castle.

Whatever she thought about him was temporarily put aside as she marveled at the fortress, all decked out for Yuletide. Strings of a dried green vine, called tinsel, decorated every hall, all of them wearing bright red bows. In every hall a decorated tree resided, but most spectacular of all was a gigantic wreath, made out of a hundred strands of tinsel, that hung behind the high table in the great hall. The wreath was covered with a powder that reflected the light of the fire and torches, making it look like thousands of miniature fires burned in it.

"How can you go about so carefree in here?" asked the woman. "Everyone seems to respect you like you were a great lord. You aren't, are you?"

"No, no." replied Aiden laughing. "I just did a service for the king and he kinda lets me have free reign around here."

What they had said was true. Lego had proclaimed Aiden and Kae-Os' achievement and granted them access to the castle, and told all to treat them like they were his own relatives. That, along with a great deal of admiration at their feat, had given the two friends a lot of popularity and respect.

Aiden caught a passing servant and inquired if there was a spare room to be found for the lady. The servant told him that one would be found, and soon was leading them up a tower. At one door he stopped and motioned them in. Inside was a small, yet well furnished bedroom with a roaring fire. The servant bowed and left.

"Errr, I guess I'll let you rest. If you need anything or just want to talk, let me know. My room is one floor up." Aiden said rather awkwardly. Now that he was in a room, away from the splendor of the rest of the castle, Aiden didn't feel too great. He turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." called the woman. "I haven't thanked you yet."

"Oh, don't bother. This is just some repayment for that stupid thing I said."

"It wasn't your fault, I just...well I guess I am not used to people talking to me that way and not meaning anything bad." An awkward pause followed. "Well," said the lady, "I guess I should clean up. By the way, my name is Nina."

"Mine's Aiden." He smiled. "I hope I don't offend you by saying this, but there is a big party tomorrow, and well, I guess that while your staying here, you might want to go. I don't have anyone to go with, and I have prime seats, so maybe....if you want to..........but if you don't that’s fine." Aiden felt slightly shocked with himself. He hadn't stammered while asking a girl for a date in years. Something was defiantly different about her.

She smiled. "I guess so, but don't expect too much, I am not much of a partier." Another smile. "Thanks again."

"No problem." Aiden left. As he headed to his room Aiden wondered about Nina. She was not the most beautiful girl he had seen by far. Yet he felt warmer to her than he had to any other woman. Also, he had stammered. He had lost his cool air. "Something is defiantly wrong with me, or her, or both of us," he muttered to himself.

[The Green Knight]

Disclaimer: The following post contains many familiar Christmas carols, all of which I lay no claim to inventing, or having written, though I may have altered some lyrics for the purpose of fitting them into the RP. Example: Christmas = Yuletide.
Also to note, a lot of the mythology and legends mentioned herein pertain only to Roleplay. There are, for instance, no Wassailing critters in old English tales.
~
A tall, fashionable stranger made his way down the side of a familiar street as dusk was falling on the capitol city. “Now let us see,” he hummed to himself, peering about. “Was it this street or the next one over?” As he pondered, he slowly became aware of a sweet strain of music coming from somewhere ahead of him.

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold!

Taking this as a sort of sign, the black clad wanderer stepped over the puddle at his feet and turned his course toward the sound of the carolers. Within seconds he had tracked the music to a fine looking inn with a sign over the door. The stranger smiled when he saw it and stepped quickly through the opening. Directly inside, he found a row of five or six children, singing merrily for the patrons who filled the common room.

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever-circling years,
Shall come the Age of Gold;

The stranger waited a moment for their song to end, before stepping up, hands clapping. “Very well performed, little vocalists.” With a single, swift motion he reached behind one of the children’s ears and withdrew a solitaire cobble, dropping it quickly into the purse, lying at the feet of the carolers.

The child’s eyes lit up as the cobble seemed to triple on its way down. “Phank you gov’ner.” The boy grinned, revealing a hole in his cheerful smile where his two front teeth ought to have been.

“Don’t mention it lad. From me to your choir and with a good will.”

Smiling, he picked up his cape and turned to the bar. “Serve any eggnog here?” he asked the busy innkeeper.

“Never heard of it.” The gruff voice returned. “Sounds like a Black Knight dri—” The innkeeper stopped short as he turned around and saw who he was addressing. “Well barmy day! If it idn’t Mac the Magician! Why I’ve not seen you since over a year ago. Whatever brings you to the golden city?”

“Business.” Said Mac, cryptically. “I’ll be staying in town for a while and thought I might come by and see if old Biirn had a spare room.”

“Well, it idn’t exactly empty during the ‘oliday season, but…I think I could find you one.”

“Excelent!” said Mac, smoothly. “I say, it’s nice to be back in the city for Yuletide. The Carolers are out and about I see, following as they do in the footsteps of Yuletide Carol, that legendary saint of song.”

“Yuletide Carol? Well now, if that don’t bring a fellow back. It must be ages since I’ve heard that bed-time story. ‘Yuletide Carol and Troll the Ancient.’ I don’t rightly know if I remember it anymore.”

“Nor I.” The magician chuckled, gazing back at the rows of children, still singing near the door of the inn.

Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even.

Mac listened to the little choir’s song, turning his mind to the story and endeavoring to lose himself in the music. It might have worked perhaps, but his thoughts were soon arrested from their journeying by the sound of an interesting conversation being held near at hand.

“Well I fixed the leak in the big cask downstairs. Anything else need doing?”

“Not here. Why not see if Jos needs your help.”

“Now hold on a moment!” Mac was up in an instant. “Did you say Jos? As in, thee Jos. The baker who invented Dragonberry jam?”

“I see you’ve ‘eard of him.” Biirn smirked.

“Heard of him? I’ve been looking for another jar of that stuff ever since I happened upon one at a peddler’s stand in Rathoan. Best stuff I ever tasted! Well, as far as jams go. What, is he out of business?”

“Out of ingredients.” Walf piped in. “We’re still working on getting some wolfberries. I could go find him for you if you like.”

“Would you?”

Walf ran off to find Jos and Biirn turned to Mac. “Good lad, that. I’ve ‘ad him on for about a year now and not one problem throughout. Kids can be regular devils about that age. I ‘ate to think of the trouble I’ll ‘ave when my own little ones get that old.”

“Well, he does look like a hard worker, but you must let him get to bed tonight, or he will get not but coald bread from King Wenceslas.”

“Ahah! Now that tale I do know.” Biirn smiled. “’ow Good King Wanceslas would go throughout his kingdom and give food to the poor and needy. Especially in the cold of winter. Now what I believe they say is what if a lad is good all year ’round he wills get a treat from the saint on the night of Yuletide eve. So says the tale. Hah! I think Walf would deserve one, bedded or awake.” The innkeeper smiled again, listening as the carolers finished the song.

Therefore, Chodan’s men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.

As the song ended, Walf appeared behind the bar. “I couldn’t find him.” He said. “I think, maybe, he might be out buying some Yuletide presents. Say Biirn, do you know what a Wassail is?”

“A Wassail?” The innkeeper was confused. “What does that have to do with Jos?”

“I think he was talking about the song.” Said Mac, nodding toward the chorus of children who had started another carol.

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wand'ring
So fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.

“Ah, you know what that word means, Walf.” Biirn said unimpressed. “It’s a toast of sorts. Means good cheer for the ‘oliday season and all that.”

“Yes,” said Walf “but did you know that the word Wassail comes from a mythological creature of the same name, that was said to spread joy and cheer each holiday season?”

“What? I should say not.” Mac interjected.

Walf nodded. “Supposedly the critter was a type of ferret or weasel. I’m told there was even a rogue Wassailing in the story of Yuletide Carol and Troll the Ancient.”

“Well fancy that.” The innkeeper remarked. “If we weren’t just talking on the same thing, the two of us, not one minute ago.”

Mac nodded. “Not to mention King Wenceslas. How do you know so much about the old Yuletide stories, lad?”

“Well, that I’m afraid, would be the fault of an old friend of mine….

The three of them discussed the matter at hand as carolers sang the last verses of their final song. Making petition for payment in the sweet voices given for children alone to employ

We have a little purse
Made of ratching leather skin;
We want some of your small change
To line it well within.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And Chodan bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And Chodan send you a Happy New Year.

The donations were generous, as almost everyone there –aided by the spirit of Yuletide, which seems to draw upward the thoughts of all men- had been affected by the children’s singing.

A tall girl with big ears collected the trigs and the boy with the missing teeth tipped his hat as the troupe went out the door.

Mac waved to the kid as he disappeared to the outside, and then turned back to his own conversation. “I mean, this friend of mine, he must have known all the stories there were in the whole world.” Walf went on. “And do you know what he said to me? He said that the most important story of the season, was the story of the very first Yuletide. The story of what happened the night Chodan sent his son to earth.”

“You know,” said Mac “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that story. Have you, Biirn?”

“Aye, I have, but it was a long time ago. Remind me what it ‘as to do with Yuletide again.”

“Well it’s only the only reason Yuletide even exists.” Said Walf rather passionately. “The real Yuletide story. The very place from whence it gets its name. The story of Emmanyule’s birth.”
~
It was dark when Jos finally got home from his shopping at the bazaar. Quietly, he let himself in through the back door into the kitchen and stole through the darkness to the common room door. Strangely, there were voices on the other side.

One, Jos knew belonged to Biirn. “Ah, say idn’t this the part with the innkeeper. I remember this part.”

Another, he had never heard before. “Are there any magicians in this story?”

And one more, which he knew at once was Walf’s. “Well no. There are Magi, but they don’t come in until latter. Now if you guys will just be quiet, we’re coming to the important part. "Now the carpenter and his wife…”

Jos leaned back from the crack in the door he had been listening through and smiled. So that was the story Walf was telling. Thenais would be proud.

And from somewhere deep in the city, the voices of carolers floated down on the night winds to the baker’s ears.

We hear the Yuletide angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanyule!

~ Merry Christmas guys ~

[Robin Hood]

She smiled. "I guess so, but don't expect too much, I am not much of a partier." Another smile. "Thanks again."

"No problem." Aiden left. As he headed to his room Aiden wondered about Nina. She was not the most beautiful girl he had seen by far. Yet he felt warmer to her than he had to any other woman. Also, he had stammered. He had lost his cool air. "Something is defiantly wrong with me, or her, or both of us," he muttered to himself.

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton, Great Hall in the castle

Whatever he thought about them being odd, both Aiden and Nina had a great time during the ball. At least the first part. The party started off with a great feast in the hall. Due to their status, Aiden and Kae-Os, and subsequently Nina, were allowed seats at the head table.

Nina looked, well splendid, at least to Aiden. Though she still looked plain, even with a bath and new cloths, Aiden didn't seem to notice. As far as he was concerned, she was the best looking woman around. He also saw that she was a bit younger than he thought. She was defiantly younger than him, possibly by a decade.

As Kae-Os later told him, that bothered him as much as her appearance. The elf had been quite a shock to Nina, but unlike most ladies, she seemed to prefer Aiden to Kae-Os. That suited the elf just fine. He was rather sick of having girls fall over him.

When the feast drew to a close, the king rose and twelve men approached the table. They were people of various stature, from all around the country, who had been chosen personally by the king to attend the ceremony. As was traditional, the King would at Yuletide give gifts to men deemed worthy. That tradition had been started when the Royal Knights were just a small people. Now, with the huge population, it was impossible for the king to give gifts to every worthy person. So instead, twelve men, and their families were selected.

Nine of the men had served with great distinction in the war, thus giving them the status necessary to receive the honor. The other three had been picked for various acts of a good to the country. But all twelve had one thing in common, they were common folk. It was considered rude to give gifts to those whole were well off.

The king bestowed on six men pieces of land on which to live. Before that the men had had no land of their own. Two others were knighted and given a place in the castle. The last four were given a large sum of money in order to help them through any hard times that might come.

After the men thanked the king and returned to their places, glowing with happiness, the king motioned to the back of the room. Four knights walked to the table, bearing between them a large stone pedestal. On top of it was a basin filled with wine.

Lego XIII, walked around the table to it and raised his hands to assembled people. "Friends. I now drink this wine in the spirit of Yuletide. May it give you warmth and cheer, and remind you that this is a time of celebration and kindness." That said, the king dipped his goblet in the wine and drank. He then returned to the table.

All the people in the hall rose and one by one dipped their goblets in the drink and when the last one had filled his cup, the knights removed the pedestal. The people raised their cups to the king and said, "We now drink this in your honor and in the honor of your kindness and giving." The hall drained their goblets.

With ceremony done with, servants entered the hall and cleared a open space in the middle of the room. A group of musicians started playing and people began to dance.

Aiden led Nina to the dance floor, but discovered she did not know how to dance. Laughing away her embarrassment, he offered to teach her. After a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. So the two started an awkward dance. Once she got the rhythm and steps down though, Nina started to really move. Despite not knowing how, Aiden could tell that she was a natural. She a grace and poise that many would envy. "She certainly can move more skillfully than I can, and that’s saying something." Thought Aiden. "She must have some hunting or fighting blood in her if she has never danced before."

After a couple of dances, they moved to a small table and Aiden went to get drinks. He met Kae-Os on the way back. "What’s up old chap?" smiled Aiden.

Kae-Os raised an eye at him. "I've never seen you so happy before. I take it you are enjoying the young lady's company?"

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmm," Kae-Os looked at him seriously. "Well don't over do it. You may slip into your old smooth attitude and offended or hurt her. You are getting too carefree."

Aiden squirmed under the elf's gaze. "I won't do anything." He sidestepped him and continued on his way to Nina.

"What was up with your friend?" asked Nina as she took her drink. "He seems rather serious."

"He always does. Don't mind him." Aiden took a long draught of his tanker. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tear fall down Nina's cheek. "What's the matter?"

"Oh," said Nina, brushing the tear away. She looked extremely young as she said. "I was just thinking how I have never had anyone be so kind to me before."

"Never ever?" asked Aiden. He felt a little uncomfortable asking the girl about something that was none of his business and probably was something she didn't want to think about. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask. Not my business."

"No that’s alright." She took a breath. "I grew up in home on the coast. My father was a sailor and hardly ever came home. When he did, all he would do was beat me, my mother or drink. My mother was not much better. When father was gone, she would beat me every day and run me raged by having me do every chore while she went off with some guy she was seeing. Finally, I ran away when I was sixteen. That was two years ago. One night, when I was starving on the side of a road, a rich noble saw me and took me home. He was a young handsome man who seemed very kind. However, we, well........he wasn't quite as nice as I thought he was. After I got better, he.......you can guess. He also beat me too, when I asked to leave. So I ran away again. After a several months of trying to survive by doing whatever I could, I met you." Nina seemed emotionally drained after her confession.

"I see," said Aiden slowly. "I take it that the noble talked a bit like I did yesterday."

Nina nodded. The enjoyment of the party seemed to have left her. She stood up. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

Aiden stood up and accompanied her to her room. At her door, she turned and said, “Thank you Aiden. It’s nice to have somebody care for me. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek then went inside and closed the door..

******************

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Kae-Os as Aiden came wandering down a minute later. “You look, odd to say the least.”

“Oh, nothing.” Replied Aiden. Inside though, one thought continued to think, “She likes me.”

Kae-Os shook his head, but said, "Happy Yuletide Aiden."

"The same to you."

[TheOrk]

G-8 Castleton, Great Hall in the Castle

The Royal Knight’s Yule Ball was not the most lavish Valric had ever been to, but it was more rich and distinguished then others. Theodore and him had taken up seats close to King Lego’s, just across from the two travellers they had met on their way here. Valric took a liking to those two, if anybody could slay that shape shifting freak, he didn’t doubt they could. He only wished he had a crack at him. King Lego seemed to take Theodore’s absence quite well, he didn’t seem that bad a chap either.

Once the King sat at the table , the feast began. A dozen servants laden down with food half stumbled over to the tables. There were over a dozen plump turkeys, both stuffed when living and when dead. The side order included several roast boar, also stuffed. After a few dozen other meaty dishes were various fruits and vegetables that could gathered in the middle of winter.

Once three turkeys had placed at the King’s table, it was divide and conquer. Before anyone could think to stop him, Valric had already downed one of the turkeys and was working his way through the rest of the table. Once he almost choked, but after draining the nearest jug of ale, he believed he had it covered. He was about to let out a loud belch, but consciousness of the neighbors, he managed, with great effort, to stop it.

“Don’t you think you should slow down a little? Maybe let the others get a half their fair share in?” Laughed Theodore uneasily, he was still on his first course.

Valric laughed loud enough for half the people to stare at him “What happened to you? It’s Brickmas er- I mean Yule! It’s a time for merriment and all that.”

Theodore shrugged, “I think you’ve had a little too much eggnog.”

Valric also shrugged “Maybe I have, perhaps I’ll just stick to purely alcoholic beverages for the rest of the night.”

Theodore snickered “There’s an idea I suppose…”

Once King Lego finished his speech, the musicians started to play and room was made for dancing. Theodore got caught up in a conversation with the King and the elf, Kea-so or something along those lines. Valric didn’t mind one bit, with a tankard of a purely alcoholic beverage in his hand, he went out to socialize. He gave the minifig, Aiden or something like that, a slap on the back. Valric would have liked to speak to him more, but Aiden was involved in his own conversation with that girl he sat next to.

Just then Theodore bumped into him. “Ah there you are!”

“There you are yourself.” Laughed Valric in a slightly slurred tone, “Well I must go in search of the garderobes if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Merry Yuletide Valric.”

“A Merry Brickmas er- Yuletide to yourself…”