Satyrs sleepy recollections of events done and gone are like dreams of stars shooting across navy skies and over oceans of blue.
Time is no ones friend.
With fondness and regret, we hoofed creatures of the wild want to hang on to every moment, to every second of these festive times. Our gratitude to those who host these celebrations overfloweth from our cups not like cheap wine, but like sparkling cider and nectar of the Gods, Pans own orchard of sly goodness and naughty promises to be fulfilled after the moon is at it's zenith.
On behalf of all my two natured brethren, I extend a hearty blossom of lavender gratitude upon a lush green stalk of Thank you, Thank you, Thank you to:
Sir Logan T. Black for his unequaled skills of organization and inspiration in molding together from the chasm of nothing a beautiful and memorable WBW.
Sir Larin for tirelessly ensuring our borders be protected and all of our attendees be properly accounted for as well as each and every volunteer who assisted in this daunting task.
Squire Draven, whose diligence and team of guards stopped at nothing to keep each human, monster and otherwise unidentified entity safe and secure during our brief stay at the lush forest of Tanglewood.
Lady Three Jugs and Sir McFadden for not only providing the use of those diverse woods, but maintaining them during our absence with little, if any outside assistance.
Squire TuK! whose name deceptively indicates the end of a sentence for his many planned battles and challenges, tournaments and wars.
King Squire Docsi, lesser known by we furred beasts as KDocsi and his beautiful, talented family for one of the most delicious feasts we have encountered. Though we prefer our carnage with a side of blood rather than all of that cooking and carving, we were pleasantly surprised by the quality of work done!
Lady Ella whose frazzled awesomeness and Lady Three Jugs whose cool managment skills ensured our tummies stayed full and our spirits lifted during all other times of hunger and thirst.
The Tavern in Tanglewood ran by, yet again, Lady Three Jugs, a woman of many talents and varied contributions. Let the ales pour forth from her most unselfish, unsparing, unstinting, yet sanitary... pockets...
Puss N Boots Emporium, Hands of Healing Therapeutic Massage and Asmodius & Mama Zin's ever name changing storefront of spectacularness for bringing excitement, precious goods/services and that gypsy, traveling merchants feel of markets in the times of ole to we humble peasants and curiosity seekers!
The roaving drummers, the brass belled dancers, the exalted angelic voices singing ballads of lost loves and adventures through personal peril, the exotic ladies from distant lands, dressed in rich hued silks, the shrewd gentlemen of fortune telling tales of their homelands in dark corners and alleys, the fighters whose sounds of battle rang out loud and proud, rain be damned, the creatures of the night lingering at the edges of the woods, waiting for unsuspecting travelers, the drunkards and the thieves - all for being you and bringing your ambiance with you.
I could go on forever, really. So hath a love for everything here that we Satyrs possess (perhaps except for politics, diplomacy and proof-reading - bleh!). May this spirit of community, of renegade energies all camped up tightly around warm fires and growing shadows continue long after we have passed. Here's to keeping the traditions alive!
HUZZAH!!!
