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[center][sub]1st of the Full Autumn Moon, 1698 P.A.
Late Evening - Clear Skies[/sub][/center]

The moon rose high above the horizon, illuminating the wonderland it gazed upon. Lavender and rose colored leaves glowed from their perch on branches of gold and silver. Flowering plants of luminescent pastel blues and greens dotted the dark plains, shivering in the breeze sharp with the promise of winter. Shadows flitted amongst the undergrowth, a flash of wings and alien features visible for only a second before vanishing back into the dark, the only proof of their passage the mischievous cackle of their intent. 

Amongst it all, an elegant pagoda carved of dark stone and wood broke the forest canopy. Flowering vines trailed up its sides, curling over railings and crawling across open ledges where statues of sapphire stood eternal watch. Various crystal creatures stood silently, faerie and mortal alike, with the faint pulse of blue light shining from within. Beyond them, a large frog hopped up the four hundred steps of the pagoda, a spiral affair along the sides of the building as water poured down from the upper chamber in a series of waterfalls. It carried a large horn on it’s back and a ruff snug around its throat.

The only sound at the top was the roar of the waterfalls as they cascaded down from a small pool of endless water at the top. The sides of the top of the pagoda looked out upon the colorful woods and the moon was perfectly framed in one of the holes carved into the top. A porcelain teapot, painted with images of swirling aether, sat next to a matching tea cup and honey jar on a small table set next to the Lady of the Isles. The frog took a moment to catch its breath before pushing itself to two legs and brought the strange horn to its mouth, ready to announce its presence, when the Lady held her hand up. It stilled while the Lady finished mixing honey into her tea and she took a long sip. 

“There is no need to disrupt a peaceful evening.” The Lady held her hand down for the frog to hop into and deposited him onto the table. Despite standing nearly as tall as a human, the Lady still dwarfed the frog. The sapphire flowers that grew in her hair were nearly the size of a mortal’s head and she stood five or more heads higher than any giant. “Did we collect our payment?” The frog made a series of unintelligible croaks, gesticulating wildly in response.

“And the enchantments we wove remain undiscovered?” The Lady nodded absently as the frog continued to speak. “Good. Now we wait until the pieces are in place.” The frog stayed silent for a time before another, meeker sound came out. The Lady’s brow rose and she frowned as she considered his request. 

“I suppose you were successful and efficient. Very well, I will grant your request. You may have one. Which one would you like?” The frog croaked indignantly before clapping its webbed hands over its mouth. The Lady sighed, unamused. “Be glad I’m in such good spirits otherwise I’d rescind my generosity and then more. Consider your next words carefully or I’ll start crushing them.” There was a long stretch of silence and then a broken sound came from the frog. She reached inside her robes and brought out a sapphire statue of a another frog, one frozen in abject terror, and she set it on the table, tapping it gently on the head. 

Sapphire darkened and changed, turning to green and yellow quickly, and the statute turned into another frog that collapsed. The Lady turned away while they sorted themselves, a cacophony of croaking disturbing the night. She permitted them a few moments before she interrupted. 

“Begone and return to your post.” The Lady’s sharp tone brooked no further conversation and the frogs were left to consider how best to descend as she showed no inclination to help them. “And be sure to keep a close eye on the witch. Our goals align for now but if she interferes again, I want her head on my doorstep.”

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[center][h2][b][color=FFCE00]Snakeburrow Woods[/color][/b][/h2][/center]
[center][sub]14th of the Full Autumn Moon, 1698 P.A.
Early Morning - Partially Cloudy Skies[/sub][/center]

The area surrounding Soft Haven was a pleasant mix of woods, thickets, and rolling farmland, offering a reasonable variety of natural shelter for those experienced in looking for it. The faint chill in the air lingered even as the sun crested the horizon, morning dew shining gold. Birdsong started even before the first rays of light and only grew louder as the sun continued to rise. Deer and rabbits placadily wove through trees and distantly, the creak of wheels and hoofbeats could be heard traveling along the various paths that broke through the Snakeburrow woods. 

However, the night was not without its strangeness. Malice, awful in its power and crushing in its presence, woke those who slumbered outside Soft Haven’s wall just after the moon began its descent back towards the horizon. The presence was there for but a moment and then gone without so much as a whimper. It could have been passed off as a dream if not for the strange claw marks in an almost perfect circle around each person’s abode.

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[center][h2][b][color=FFCE00]Soft Haven[/color][/b][/h2][/center]
[center][sub]14th of the Full Autumn Moon, 1698 P.A.
Early Morning - Partially Cloudy Skies[/sub][/center]

The smell of fresh bread and the sound of a waking town, with all its clatter and clashing, rose with the sun. While there were a number of stone and wood businesses, its market was mostly open air as it was once a gathering place for all the world’s myriad goods. And while there were still a good number of tents and stalls set up for the early morning rush, it barely filled half the market square, certainly not enough to cover the bare spots where broken cobblestone went ignored and certainly not enough to hide the numerous people who found themselves begging for scraps and copper. Still there was energy in the air and an optimism of people who’d lived in this town for millenia. 

The Treant, the “affordable” inn, was a measly six copper a night. Of course, it wasn’t exactly the nicest place to find a bed. The outside was slipshod and run down, its tables and chairs and staff much the same. Its sign was faded and battered, the paint long dried and flaking. More than one window was nailed shut, every table hobbled back together from freely available wood, and a fireplace that looked like it hadn’t seen a cleaning in years. The walls were covered in nicks and carvings from fights and drunkards and the occasional aspiring artist who was both former and latter, and the gnome manning the bar looked like a piece of leather left in the sun too long. The bar maids were a plain lot, a handful of humans and halflings, but a few knew how to pluck the strings of a lute in a decent way so music could be found on a few occasions. Breakfast in this place was little more than oats, bread, and watery ale for four copper, an extra copper for fresh bread and an extra eight for a dollop of honey. 

Meanwhile, The White Lion stood on the opposite end, a clear contrast to its competitor. Built of precious woods and imported marble, The White Lion once shone as a testament to the town’s wealth. However, the gold gilding has started to fade and the stone pillars have grown dark with dirt as the flow of coin lessened. Still an impressive affair, The White Lion boasts a large first floor, accommodating a large dining space with elegant rugs scattered around the floor, expensive linens draped over tables, and a number of large tapestries on the walls, a small stage for music when they had a large enough crowd, and a bar featuring a number of popular Reflin and Dranirian liquors, wines, and ales. Rooms, at 8 silver a night, in The White Lion were luxurious affairs, a four poster bed in each room with a wardrobe, a locking trunk, a table, a desk, and an attached washroom were the standard affairs, with hot water available on request for bathing. For breakfast, they offered a simple breakfast of sausage, eggs, beans, tomatoes, and mushrooms over potato hash with either a seasonal juice and a tankard of nice ale for an easy silver and 6 copper. 

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The Bounty House lay north east of Soft Haven, beyond the Soft Haven graves and in a secluded area of the Snakeburrow woods. The safest path there forked off from the northern road to Wilree, turning sharply right one hundred paces away from Soft Haven gate and wandered for a ways before reaching its destination.