Having been dropped just a few yards from the entrance by the caravan, Marcelin Brightfeather walked with a spring in his step. His spirit was especially high after successfully bringing the children back to their parents in the previous quest he had embarked on. [color=fff200]“The vile forest spirit, nothing but an overgrown thicket, trembled in fear as the roaring flames of the deformed monster turned hero, engulfing its surroundings…"[/color] The storyteller dictated aloud, his voice carrying across the yard as the quill scratched against the parchment.

His bright, emerald eyes lifted from the paper, hovering on both the well-off-looking young lady and the golden-scaled man. He smiled, his golden mustache twitching. [color=fff200]“Huzzah! What a great gathering of fine individuals!”[/color] Approaching with a theatrical glide he put both paper and quill inside the leather satchel slung around his neck.

First, to [b]Clarisse[/b], he removed his feathered bonnet, bowing low. [color=fff200]“My lady, what fortune to make your acquaintance! To think someone of your apparent status would care about those not even fit to clean the dirt from your shoes! That speaks volumes of your gilded heart!”[/color]

Then, turning to [b]Solvaris[/b], he repeated the bow. [color=fff200]“And you, your eminence, to have such a merciful heart and notion of duty that you would leave your godly matters to tend to the mundane and unworthy problems! That speaks volumes of your noble soul!”[/color]

Finally, rising to his feet and placing the feathered bonnet back on his head, the storyteller spread his arms wide. [color=fff200]“This is turning out to be the beginning of a grand epic! An epic whose sheer scale rivals the ancient tales of woe!”[/color] His arms fell to their sides. [color=fff200]“I’m Marcelin Brightfeather, nothing but a humble storyteller.”[/color]