The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Posters such as this are soon to be found scattered across down and upon the very door of the tavern itself.

Rumors circulate of how the tavern's owner has personally invited the gypsy band currently camped upon the edge of the lake to the celebration. For now, the tavern is a quiet bustle of preparing energy and work.

OOC: The event shall take place November 4, beginning at 7pm EST. Please feel free to pm me with any questions!

The light of the large bonfire is a welcoming glow in the dimming light of approaching night, those traditional flames meant to keep ill spirits at bay this night when the veil between the living world and the dead is most thin. This is the central hub for tonight's festivities, dancers whirling and twirling about it to the sound of wild music. A gathering of both the young and the old, the haves and have-nots all costumed and masked for the gala.

The long tables have been dragged out once more from storage, all heavily laden with food and drinks representing the harvest season. And there, at one end, near the punch bowl and other refreshments it would seem someone has a sense of humor. Tea cups. This is all that is provided for the festival-goers to drink out of no matter what their drink of choice might be. Mismatched and some showing a tiny bit of wear in the way of a little chip here or a missing handle on this one. All in all, it was quite the sight to see such a large collection of them gathered.

Cooked meats, nuts and fruits, freshly baked breads and little cakes and pies. There is even the fortune-telling brambrack cake. A fruit cake with various small objects baked within it: a pea, a stick, a piece of cloth, a small coin, and a ring. Each item, when received in the slice, is supposed to carry a meaning to the person concerned: the pea, the person would not marry that year; the stick, "to beat one's wife with", would have an unhappy marriage or continually be in disputes; the cloth or rag, would have bad luck or be poor; the coin, would enjoy good fortune or be rich; and the ring, would be married within the year.

Lanterns have been set upon high poles to help illuminate the tavern's lawn, it's protective porch. Pumpkins carved with ghoulishly grinning faces that flicker and flash thanks to the candles set within their gutted insides. They are scattered upon the tables along with smaller carved turnips, there by the steps, and clustered in any dark corner that needed that extra spook-touch.

Games have been organized for the celebration. Bobbing for apples, basins filled with water with their treasures of apples, nuts, and other small fruits. For the very brave, there are coins upon the very bottom if one is able to hold their breath long enough to fish them out with mouth alone.

One tree sitting 'lone upon the tavern lawn bears fruit when it is certainly no natural fruit-bearing tree. Apples hang upon strings and guests are invited to attempt their skill at a hands off attempt to crunch bites from the swinging fruit.

Among the native people of Myrken would mingle the nomad-gypsies who have this past month camped along the shore of Lake Silver. Their troupe of entertainers providing the lively music, their women folk dancing in their brightly colored garb. Acrobats, jugglers, and all manner of entertainers. Keep an eye out for the small, brown fingers of their children whom might not be able to resist dipping into a pocket or two to hang onto any coin for safe keeping that might have jingle-jangled it's way out of a dancer's purse. Upon one of the bales of hay stacked about as resting seats for breathless dancers, too drunk to walkers and too full to eat more eaters, one might find a wrinkled and old gypsy woman spinning ghostly tales to gasping young and old. The lucky ones might be able to sleep peacefully when ever their heads do find their pillows tonight.

All in all, an open display of generosity to the entire community- A happy All Hallows Eve to all!

A letter addressed to Molly O'Neill is delivered to the Broken Dagger not too late in the week; written on smooth, rich paper, sealed with wax bearing the Governor's mark, one need not even open it to guess at its sender - that, at least, is clear enough. Its contents, however, are harder to guess.

To Ms Molly O'Neill, Proprietress of the Broken Dagger

Ms O'Neill

Being a regular visitor to the Broken Dagger, I had the very great pleasure of attending the Masked Ball at your establishment this All Hallow's Eve, and felt that I should write to thank you for hosting such an excellent soirée. I and my friends had a most delightful evening, and I have rarely seen the folk of Myrken Wood enjoying themselves so thoroughly - a night to remember, and for the best of reasons.

Indeed, I should not only like to congratulate you and your staff for arranging such an entertaining event, but commend you for having done so with a spirit of generosity and openness which is so often lacking in the world. My only regret is that I did not manage to catch you at the event so that I could voice my appreciation in person; instead I hope to remedy this at the next such occasion you host, and look forward to it with great anticipation.

Sincerely,

Cinnabar Calomel