And so after returning from a rather bloody and harsh campaign in the west and down south, fighting off Talerians, and Cagilans and Tarans, the Northern Alliance tromps home for some refitting and a hot, freshly brewed cup of tea.
As Eston and Darka begin feeling well again, they begin walking out the door. While the Barony of Makar is still getting its shoes back on. When all of a sudden one of their servants runs in a bit of distress.
"My Lords! Something most unusual!"
Eston and Darka look at each other, concerned, but curious. The Barony of Makar takes the opportunity to down another pint of ale.
"What is it?" Eston and Darka ask.
"Well, my Lords, I was cleaning up the trash and other left over items from the party in Coria's backyard as you instructed me too, when all of a sudden someone came barging into the place, grabbing leftover cake and punch and stuffing their face. Soon, he looked at me, at asked me where everybody had run off too! I am most confused and concerned, my Lords."
Suddenly, Minas Ithil barrels through the door, a glass of spiced punch in one hand and a party hat in the other.
"What the heck, you all? What're you doing over here? I showed up at the party in Coria and no one was there? Did I miss something?"
