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Vanáriel stood on a high, wooded platform in the centre of town and stared down at hundreds of merry faces with a bright grin of her own. Tall, straight and regal in white robes; Vaná felt like she was a Hand of the Light again and with the heart of the people. All eyes were on her as she lifted a glass of dark wine into the air.

“... please raise your glasses in honour of this warm and welcoming man, Braus Derry, the new mayor of Miwor Town!”

A chorus of cheering and whooping answered Vaná’s yell. The village suddenly exploded into noise as the musicians blasted out a bright and merry fanfare, earning more approving cheers from the townspeople, and then it was official - Springtime had officially begun.

Crowds of people swarmed the sweet stalls, waitresses walked through the streets with fresh brews and dancing jigs started on almost every corner.

Vaná exhaled a sigh of relief when she was no longer the centre of attention and descended from the wooden platform to return to one of the many tables outside the Two Bucks Inn. She flopped into her seat and turned to her fellow Warden with a cheeky grin, “I thought I was going to fall from such a height up there! It looks like the town is really eager to have the best Springtime ever. Aren’t you going to join in with the festivities?”

#netherwar: starter #netherwar: event #netherwar: springtime

Thirty. Damn. Gardens. That was how many Soren had so gallantly tended to, under Vana’s command, after the townspeople had heard that he was a mage who was skilled in manipulating the earth. With a careful hand Soren had nourished the soil and dug holes with a single thought, all while cursing those who hadn’t known his true power and who were now using him as a gardener. One day they would learn. One day. And then he had been recruited to help with the flowers being used in the springtime celebrations. After a full day of tending to tulips, Soren fell into his bed, muttering angrily to himself.

A letter sat on his nightstand, one with his name written on it in handwriting neat enough to belong in a book. In fact, it had been seen in many books, considering it was from Archmage Daereth Archeim himself. Soren tore open the letter, rubbing his bleary eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. A letter from his father after so long.

He hadn’t even gotten past “Dear Soren,” when the door flew open. Soren shoved the letter under the covers and stared wide-eyed at the figure in the doorway. “Have you ever considered knocking or were you raised in a barn? Likely, considering your appearance. This had better be good enough for you to barge in on my bedchamber.” A bedchamber. What a joke. It was a room hardly large enough to fit two horses in. Not that Soren regularly measured rooms by horse-related units, but it seemed accurate enough at the moment. “The only guests I accept while in bed are beautiful women.”

#hope I'm not spamming the starter tag but I want to get these event starters out early #netherwar: springtime #netherwar: starter #netherwar: event #the second starter y'all have been waiting for

Bell stood by the fire, eyes staring into the flickering flames as she waited patiently for the celebrations to end. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt that laugh run through her again. And no amount of flowers was going to steal the visions away. So she waited and stared. Stared and waited.

A moment later, she felt a presence behind her, silently trying not to be detected. They would have gotten away with it too if she couldn’t see them in the metal on the fireplace’s mantle.

“Don’t just stand there. If you’ve come to the fire to warm yourself, you should do so. If you came to speak with me, you might have better luck with the tree outside. He seems quite talkative tonight.”

#chat #netherwar: starter #netherwar: event #netherwar: springtime

EVENT #2: S P R I N G T I M E

❝ Do not be disheartened by the poor harvest, friends.

These tough times don’t last; tough people do.❞

It’s been a hard few years for normal folk in Eldris. As each year passes, the world becomes increasingly more volatile and more crops are failing than ever before. It has forced towns and villages to endure the toughest times they can ever remember but that only makes the people of Eldris more determined to cling on to their traditions and create a merry celebration to forget their woes. In the north, villages prepare for their ancient El Dyine festival, whereas in the midlands and the southern lands, they prepare to celebrate their Springtime festival; a modern descendent of the north’s traditions.

In the last week, Miwor Town has exploded in activity. Merchants from everywhere have travelled to the busy town to set up their stalls, filling the paved streets with the smells of sweet pastries, smoked meats, and rich wines. Children dance in between the throngs of people and take the opportunity to cheek on their elders, as it is one of the few days in the year where they can escape punishment. The Two Bucks Inn is always the favourite spot in Miwor Town for a drink and a jig. Braus Derry has been elected as the town’s new mayor and is dedicating this Springtime to welcoming the Wardens to Miwor Town.

In the final hours of the celebration, huge bonfires are constructed in the center of town that are almost as big as a house and the townspeople are encouraged to eat, dance and drink to welcome the new season of life. Vanáriel Vaewren has instructed the Wardens to enjoy the festival because it will be the best way to show gratitude and support to the townspeople they are indebted to.

It may be one of the last opportunities for the Wardens to enjoy a week of festivities before their duties summon them to battle.