February 2015 Revel Teasers
Whispers had been heard around the Duchy, of a party. Soon enough, as always, whispers become talk, and eventually, the talk became a clatter that rose from the people of Ravenholt, beginning with the Ducal Household. A party would be held for the Ducal children, as their birthdays had come and gone and a private celebration was held for just the family. The Duke and Duchess had decided that a Duchy wide celebration would take place, and an invitation to ANY and ALL people of Ravenholt would be made public in the latest Herald, which is quite different from the 'nobility only' invitations to such celebrations of past.
Other whispers, as there never seems to be a shortage of whispers, had been heard. Only rumors, until the print confirmed some gossip suspicions, that Madame Azalea Hillenbrand, founder of the most prestigious finishing school in the Duchy, and courtly educator of the Ducal Children themselves would be attending the party.
Sweet Tyrra.....what will you wear!?
Vashti looked out over the ocean, a somber expression stretched across her face as the waves below crashed upon the cliff side, it sounded like battle. War was coming, she could sense it. Something carried it on the wind, the air of conflict and strife. Where and when. There was no way to know, but it was coming, she was sure of it.
The sun was setting on a sleepy fishing village, fishermen were reeling in their nets and sending their apprentices off to the ice houses to store the fish from the days catch. Mothers and wives were cooking stews and warm food for their loves return home from the cold and stormy winter seas. A loud clatter rose up, steel meeting steal rang from the docks, yelling, scuffling, and shouting. Healers fled their homes, headed for the docks to aid, but by the time they were there, it was too late. Attempting to flee, scaled Saurians were rising from the water in throngs. Archers shot down the healers, and only a few escaped, but none would stay and defend the village, as they knew a lost cause when they saw one.
The fight was over, but still more Saurians came from the tide, raiding the village and settling into the now abandoned houses for the night. Eating their food, and sleeping in their beds.
As the sun rose, ready to bring all the warmth it could to the frigid lands of Ravenholt, a party was to begin. Little did the people of Ravenholt know that the bells of celebration would be met...by the drums of war.