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After the victory at Mourningwood Glen, King Alby declared a celebration. Any excuse was a good one for the jolly king and he had found one more worthy than most. Myself, King Alby, Sir forest and Squire Connor wound up leaving a bit earlier, escorting Connor and his wife, the beautiful Mary, to their camp for the night. We were invited to stop for a meal with them a roadside Inn which Sir Forest had frequented and he promised us all a fine meal the likes of which we would find in no other establishment. We were pleased to find that, by chance, we had crossed the path of Sir Everlast and Abbi Cross, both on their way to a celebration among the faerie courts. As Sir Forest had been a regular attendee of the faerie raids of late, we decided to accompany them.
There was much festivity and time seem to stand still while we enjoyed the entertainments of the evening. Others arrived, whom I had either never met or whom I had not seen in many a day. Draven and Laren arrived to add to our festivities and to marvel at the mystic glamors of the faerie entertainers who were adept at mimicking famous bards from around the land. At times, the glamors were so powerful and artfully done that it was even difficult to tell if the entertainer were a man or a woman.
After the festivities, during which Sir Forest almost found himself presiding over a faerie wedding, we headed to Sir Forest's abode to take our rest. We bid farewell to Laren and Draven at the courts and parted company with Sir Everlast and Abbi Cross at another roadside inn which served one of Sir Forest's favorite late night meals, something called a "Taquito". We drove through the late night not aware that foul treachery would soon mar our wonderful evening. It seems that the vampire who had attacked Mourningwood Glen and taken our party all but unawares there had also supped on our draft animals. Our wagon came to a stop along the side of the King's Highway number 35 (the eastern spur of that great road) as we found that our poor beasts of burden, named Oc and Tain, were completely drained.
Sir Forest cursed most vociferously and remonstrated himself for not checking the animals earlier but eventually, it was decided that we would have to abandon the beast's carcasses on the side of the highway and push the wagon ourselves, to the next available livery.
The task was arduous, as much of the next mile was uphill and the wagon, made to be pulled by two stout animals was, instead, being pushed by a doughty squire and his equally hale knight. Myself, having not imbibed of the faerie liquors being lavished upon us at the courts, was given the task of working the breaks and steering the yoke, in the likely case that one of the patrols set to maintain order upon the highways were to happen by.
We eventually heaved the wagon off of the main highway, along which many a passerby trotted past with a look of sympathy toward us but that look being all the aid that they were willing to give. We found ourselves along a dark stretch of roadway with few, if any businesses along it. The first of which we came to was a purveyor of spirits who also happened to keep a stable. Unfortunately, the owner was not available and had left no means of contacting him or even an apprentice to take care of after hours travelers. We trudged onward, to the next livery.
The next one looked a bit more promising. Sir Forest spoke with the sleepy apprentice smith who greeted him and went by the unlike name of "Payat d'pump" but the livery was empty of horses and had been for some time. At least since the price of a pair of draft animals there was much less than they were known to go for these days. Thus, we trudged onward.
By this time, both Sir Forest and King Alby were violently ill for the fae wines that they had been served at the courts was more than any mortal could handle, only their powerful constitutions had allowed them to remain lucid after even one glass of the potent beverages. I was also struggling as my legs were cramping from the uncommon exertion that I was putting them to. I was at the point of dispair when a glimmer of hope appeared around a bend in the road. The lights from the stable shown like a beacon in the night guiding us to our salvation. We heaved and shoved, forcing our tortured bodies to move forward, one foot in front of the other as we neared the stableyards. Finally, with one final heave, we pushed the wagon into the yard and fell to the ground in exhaustion. Sir Forest spoke with the nighttime apprentice, who, oddly enough, was also named "Payat d'pump" and presented him with his letter of credit allowing him to purchase new draft animals. These were two golden mares known as "Gaso" and "Lean" and, after hitches the animals to our wagon, we were finally able to make it to Sir Forest's remote home and to our beds.
And Malran was Sober the entire time.
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Lord Malran Singollo
Duke of Dreadmoor
Patriarch, House Singollo
Lettusio-Rex, Dreadmoor Fey Jackalope
Member of the House of H.O.P.S.
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