Sep 20, 2026 10:04 pm
@ The Red Oak Tavern
You've each been in around and out of the village called Rusling, at least long enough to know how the seasons go there. Winter is cold and wet with a bit of snow on the barely-frozen ground, and the cattle huddle together to graze on the wilted grassy hills. Spring is warmer, and wet, with flowers and gardeners planting and cattle lowing to breed. Summer, hot and dry, the hay is tall. And now autumn, cooler, damp, and most of the harvest in.
You know on a late September day like this, Stott Prince Enedwaith ought to be holding forth with his lads in the Red Oak Tavern. He ought to be plotting with Gunder and Jane: just where to find the best of the marsh hogs for the annual hunt. Maybe he shouldn't but he probably would give a quick squeeze to Silene, the wench of the tavern. His men would turn to Snori for sharpening and other repairs to the boar spears and swords. And they'd all look warily to Mimnern for her reputation for animal-ken.
But this is not an ordinary late September day. Unlike the past twenty-five years, Stott Prince Enedwaith did not come east from his brother's castle in Tharbad and stop here at the end of summer. No, this year Stott Prince came earlier in the summer and rode straight through, onward north and east to the hall of Fidd Earl Hollin. And this very afternoon he's come back, after a honeymoon there in Hollin, bringing with him his bride, Fidd Earl's young niece Mianne.
Here they are at the best table in the Red Oak Tavern, eating supper while the villagers crowd the windows to peep at them from the muddy street. You're all in here with them, and a select group of other reputable or interesting village folk.
You've each been in around and out of the village called Rusling, at least long enough to know how the seasons go there. Winter is cold and wet with a bit of snow on the barely-frozen ground, and the cattle huddle together to graze on the wilted grassy hills. Spring is warmer, and wet, with flowers and gardeners planting and cattle lowing to breed. Summer, hot and dry, the hay is tall. And now autumn, cooler, damp, and most of the harvest in.
You know on a late September day like this, Stott Prince Enedwaith ought to be holding forth with his lads in the Red Oak Tavern. He ought to be plotting with Gunder and Jane: just where to find the best of the marsh hogs for the annual hunt. Maybe he shouldn't but he probably would give a quick squeeze to Silene, the wench of the tavern. His men would turn to Snori for sharpening and other repairs to the boar spears and swords. And they'd all look warily to Mimnern for her reputation for animal-ken.
But this is not an ordinary late September day. Unlike the past twenty-five years, Stott Prince Enedwaith did not come east from his brother's castle in Tharbad and stop here at the end of summer. No, this year Stott Prince came earlier in the summer and rode straight through, onward north and east to the hall of Fidd Earl Hollin. And this very afternoon he's come back, after a honeymoon there in Hollin, bringing with him his bride, Fidd Earl's young niece Mianne.
Here they are at the best table in the Red Oak Tavern, eating supper while the villagers crowd the windows to peep at them from the muddy street. You're all in here with them, and a select group of other reputable or interesting village folk.
OOC:
What is each of you doing as the Prince and Princess sup? @testlum,@Sixkiller,@Joe_Blivion 
