(Art by John F. Francis)
After last year's nonsense, Maarten had thought his trouble with spirits and spectres had ended.
So, imagine his chagrin when the distinct tinkling of faerie bells alighted themselves on his ears alongside the bumbling groan of wagon-wheels.
Then came with them the jolly tune of trumpets, drums, and crumhorns mixed most incongruously with booming funeral bells that tolled low and dreadfully.
So far as his senses were to be trusted, this spectral parade had no corporeal form, nor did its manic din emanate from any source.
Oh but how it all shook the earth! How it rattled the windows of the tavern and the neighboring buildings! Dogs howled in excitement and strained upon their leashes! And, like Maarten's heart, the door to his establishment seized up and would not open back up. It seemed as if every nerve of his was set alight, and that Maarten's ears would surely give out before long.
But, just as it became too much to bear, this...triumph phantasmagorical....ceased.
All that could be heard were the barks of dogs and the creak of the buildings against the cold winds.
And sitting plain upon the doorstep to the tavern was a barrel of cordial.
Pinned to the rim of the barrel was a note:
Expect six more deliveries.
Bear them hence into your cellar. On the sixth day, bar not your doors.
My gratitude. And my apologies for the disturbance.
- The Baron
OOC: Oh yeah baby! We're back! If you were here last year, then you may remember the jovial and gladsome Baron Rufus who visited the tavern.
This time, he's back! Though he may also stroll about town as well!
This is a simple little event that's essentially just a feast with some good-hearted Fey magic and mischief mixed in!
