Greetings my fellow Bacchus. It is I, George Myron - wordsmith and poet laureate to the Deadwoods, bringing you news of the Harts Yule party originally to be held in Norhault, home of Duke Reynauld du Chatillon. However, due to the recent and tragic demise of Baron Connall Evanson the event was moved to Marchwood Keep in his honour (Marchwood county being where Connall acted as warden) to serve as wake and tribute for his passing.

Being my first official visit to such an auspicious (that means there was a load of posh nobs there) occasion I had my seamstress run up a pair of double stitched britches and an extra frilly shirt. Donning the larger of my purses - for there was much blessing to be performed - I awaited Remy who had kindly offered to provide transport for all of those sojourning Sorthwards in his coach. For reasons unknown to me, the nearest transport circle was out of order.

As I boarded the coach I greeted Remy and Ehlana and we made one short stop to the quarters of the Baron Ignatious and Norrahe in Londinium before heading to the nether regions of Albion.

The journey itself was mostly uneventful and both Remy and Ehlana attempted to entertain us with some rather unusual ballads that they had heard from a group of minstrels known as the "Spice Maidens" or something similar.

However as we passed the halfway point of our travail our coach developed certain mechanical problems - the cause of which is unknown to man of words such as myself. Fearing ourselves left stranded out on the highway, and prey to all manner of bandits and ruffians, we entered a strange village by the name of "Services" where many sad-faced people wandered aimlessly (as if under some form of glamour) around a sinister looking tavern called "Thee Little Cheff". A dwarven establishment, one presumes.

Luckily a passing blacksmith came to our aid and we were soon on our way again.

Xantalia's Jobs

As we neared our destination, we made a small scheduled stop to fetch Xantalia who seemed in fine spirits at the prospect of making many "business" contacts that evening. She mentioned something about "jobs" anyway...

As we entered the feasting halls, our hearts were filled with happiness at the sight of the number of familiar faces (as well as the length of the serving hatches). Taking no delay, we consumed not an immodest amount of blessing liquid to wet our throats from the dust of the road. With a full tankard in my hand, I ventured of into the throng to 'mingle' as we say in the more fashionable parts of Albion.

Xantalia, Ehlana and Norrahe partying...

Among the fellow Bacchus present were Ulfius Weaponbane and some companions of his, Shelia Blidge, Thorvald Einarsson and the fellow know only as the Pot Ninja, who, apart from the festivities, were keen to show their sorrow at the sad departure of Connall from this realm. For my part I was very excited at meeting the Queen for the first time, although I was advised that much of my poetry would be unsuitable for such regal ears. Memories of the 'incident' with the Duke of Abercrombie came rushing back and I quickly rethought my impromptu rendition of She was only the Oarsman's daughter, but she knew a substantial amount about rollocks. Amongst other esteemed guests present were Lord Hugo, the now deceased High Sheriff Guillam de Hawkeye, Steward to the privy council Raynauld de Chatillion, Lady Kaithen Fairchild as well as High Provost S'Pika and X'hephra Darkstar - sadly taken from us by the unseelie Fae. It was no sooner than we had finished our first half dozen cups of holy water that a bunch of ne'er-do-wells attempted to gain entry into the halls causing many a spillage among the fellow guests. Outraged by such a rude entrance I felt it my duty to join the attendees to teach them a few rules of etiquette with the pointy end of a sword.

Paying Tribute

With the gatecrashers dealt with, various members of those assembled took to the dais in the hall to pay tribute to poor Connall. Firstly Queen Elspeth Tarragon spoke to those assembled of Connall as both faithful courtier and personal friend. She also announced that there was to be a formal investigation held into the circumstances of the Baron's death, despite the fact that a culprit by the name of Wee Eck McEwan of the clan McEwan had already been apprehended. This news was I'm sure of some comfort to Iggy who had already some of his own suspicions

Then the Beastmen, King Gunnar, Lady Adelina and other friends and acquaintances performed their eulogies causing many a goblet to be raised in Connall's memory.

Among those of our own group who offered a eulogy was our very own Norrahe who shared close ties with the Baron and of course Baron Iggy, undoubtedly Connall's closest friend, who delivered a heartfelt speech in his own inimitable way.

Most surprisingly (or perhaps not so) the Lions only saw fit to send an envoy on their behalf which I feel only lent more fuel to the fires that various high-ranking members of the Lions faction were implicated in Connall's - let me not mince words here - murder! As I witnessed at the Harts Moot, this speculation was given further weight by the antagonistic and divisive manner with which the Lions conducted themselves. No matter, for I am not here to discuss tales of political intrigue.

With the speeches over, a feast was laid on for the hungry revellers which was consumed with much relish. I was tempted during the feast to remind the Beastmen not to choke on the chicken bones, but I have a feeling that they have eaten more dangerous morsels in their time.

While we digested our meal, Connall's will was read out before the congregation. I will now set down to the best of my memory the contents of that will written in the tenth month of 1097 AF:

Bequests made

• To Baron Malik - who is much better now after being 'visited' by a rather unwelcome guest by name of S'naka - was rather fittingly left Connall's purse of assorted monies.
• To Baron Iggy, Connor bequeathed his personal documents as well as the responsibility of repaying a debt owed to a certain seelie fae, the story of which, alas, I must save for another time.
• To Norrahe went a disk fragment from the isle of Erin, which to my knowledge has never left her person since receiving it.
• To Tarn a third amulet was bequeathed, although this was at the time of presentation missing.
• The sword which Connall had wielded in many a battle was left to Queen Elspeth.
• A medallion was left to Prince Elias.
• And finally Connall's personal estates were left to the Lady Faye, his betrothed.

When Connall's will and testament was finally completed, I joined my fellow Bacchus in sending Connall on his way. It brought great cheer to my heart to see so many blessed that evening. One fellow I saw was so overcome by the spirit of Bacchus that he was on his knees and speaking in tongues, although he appeared to be calling out to someone called 'Hughie' and sometimes someone called 'Bill'. I can only assume that Bacchus is known by many names.