Lothis

    It was the Eve of Winter Veil, a time of gift-giving and reflection on all that the year past had brought, and what the next would bring. As quiet and strained as Rustberg had been of late, the turn-of-the-year cheer had proven infectious enough to overcome the lingering dread; roustabouts and sailors exchanged short toasts between tall tales in the Heart, while the village folk cut small trees for decoration and passed gifts from one to another at gatherings, parties of singing, red-cheeked souls moving from house to house in celebration, carrying lanterns and songs like especially boisterous fireflies. The transformation of the small Baradin community bordered on the storybook. Even the most truculent of Melisande’s wards had...