[Center][h1][u][b]Chapter One: A Mentor's Marriage[/b][/u][/h1][/Center]

The bells of Moorvale ring bright and clear across the city, their tones carrying over marble spires, bustling markets, and the cobalt domes of the Arcane University. Today, the campus grounds have transformed from a quiet and orderly place of learning into a festival of color and celebration. Banners in shades of sapphire and gold flutter from floating poles, arcane lanterns drift lazily overhead, shedding warm, dancing light, and the grand lawn is lined with food stalls, performance circles, and clusters of curious onlookers who have come to witness history.

For this is the wedding of Professor Ancrea Finch, firbolg wizard and former dean of the Arcane University. It was her brilliant mind from which the invention of the arcane locomotive emerged to reshape trade, travel, and society across the region. Her name is spoken with reverence in lecture halls, with awe in taverns, with envy in research circles, and with suspicion in temples. And today, she has thrown open the gates of her alma mater to celebrate not an academic triumph, but a personal joy.

A sea of guests drifts among the decorated pavilions: students in crisp robes, noblemen and guildmasters in regal attire, scholars from distant lands, and common folk from every corner of Moorvale. You and your aristocratic family stand among these honored few who received invitations penned in Professor Finch’s own looping handwriting, indicating her desire for the presence of you and yours at the event in particular.

At the center of it all, the ceremony dais rises beneath the shade of a colossal ironwood tree that was one of Finch’s earliest botanical experiments. Its branches hang with luminous crystalline blossoms that pulse in time with the music. Attendants bustle about preparing last-minute details, and arcane wards shimmer faintly in the air, ensuring that today remains unmarred by mishap or mischief. A well-dressed gnome man stands before the dais. You recognize him as Dean Valtor Carlin Kellen Duvamil Seebo Orla Mermop. He was Professor Finch's deputy dean. He was the one to take her place as dean when she stepped off the position to focus completely on her work. And now, he is the one who is marrying her today.

Further out from the center of the celebration you recognize other faces among the guests. Of course, there is your family. Many of your broader relatives managed to carve out some time to come to the event. As have all of your closest family members.

Your brother Lysander moves among the academics in attendance, no doubt looking to pick the brains of the foreign scholars for knowledge and insights from lands far beyond the walls of Moorvale.

Your sister Seraphina has ingratiated herself into the presence of the political elite who have come to the wedding, most likely in search of ways to advance her own ambitions and aspirations.

Your father Dmitri may have come to the wedding, but it seems he has brought his work with him and is now scribbling away in one of the quieter corners of grand lawn.

Your mother Cassandra is mingling among the other high society folk and fulfilling the duties at this event that would have fallen to her father had he the presence of mind to perform them.

But that doesn't mean he's totally unable to attend. Your grandfather Aldric is having one of his better days, and while he isn't entirely certain why everyone has decided to drop what they're doing and have a massive party in the middle of a Great Modron March, he certainly isn't about to complain. Now he sits in a gazebo away from the thick of things, where he is content to have slightly incoherent yet otherwise pleasant conversations with anyone who draws near.

Your family are not the only noteworthy guests though. Many important nobles, guildmasters, and scholars have gathered for this occasion. And any one of them would be a good friend to have for one reason or another. Though there are some notables that don't blend together with the rest.

Andraste Amastacia, the high elf founder of Moorvale, is present for the wedding. And surprisingly enough, so to is Durwith Bronzebeard, the old dwarf making a rare public appearance alongside his fellow founder. The two of them hold court on the furthest corner of the grand lawn from the dais, where a large number of guests flock to in the hopes of seeing these two historical figures up close.

And while the other founders may no longer be among the living, their descendants remain. Orthog Troll-Puncher, a descendant of Moorvale's half-orc founder, lays siege to one end of the wedding's buffet table. Meanwhile, Alton Goodbarrel, a descendant of Moorvale's halfling founder, attacks it from the other end. Ghesh Drachedandion, a descendant of Moorvale's dragonborn founder, was taking bets on how long it would take the half-orc and the halfling to meet in the middle. And in one of the performance circles, Sir Temerity Danger Greatness, a knightly descendant of Moorvale's tiefling founder, was telling clearly exaggerated tall tales about his knightly exploits and the knightly exploits of his ancestors.

Strangely enough, there are also members of the clergy here. Slightly concerning too, given that of all those who have spoken out against Professor Finch and her latest invention, their voices have been the loudest. Apparently Professor Finch's trains reminded them a little to much of the infernal war machines of the Nine Hells for their liking. Finding a cleric to officiate the wedding had been something of a challenge as a result. But thankfully, a priest of Boccob the Uncaring had been willing to perform the ceremony. He was a human by the name of Gregory Benedict, and he was sitting now a little off to the side of the dais while stoically rebuffing a pair of preachers trying to talk him out of it.

In the backdrop of all this, Flurry is staring off into the middle distance. You know from experience that he tends to do this when something has caught his attention, a quirk that he acquired from his reanimation and one that can be triggered by the most random of things. You cannot see what has done it this time, but you know he will stay by your side unless you permit him to go after it and you know that he'll eventually lose interest once he's stared at it for long enough.

The wedding of a legendary wizard is in full swing, and with it, the very first steps of your adventure. What do you do?