Gurakzar, Dwarven Kingdom of Hasandri.

49th of Kusha, The month of Harvest.

2290 years since the New Gods came.

The 4th of Anael is the party. 11 days. I'm glad that I have a new suit to wear. Those tailors do a really good job, even at a distance! Anna is bringing Bri's gown for the affair.

One of Demonia's 'World Famous' transit gates was finished a few days ago in town. That pretty much cements Gurakzar on the map as far as trade and travel destinations go. I just shake my head at the expense of putting one here. Sure it's 'The Kings Road' and all, and it is the beginning of the north road, but still, with a population of 40k, it's a little small to be awarded one. Rumor has it that it will be free to use until a week after the party! Talk about a bad financial decision. It does make it easier for the guests to arrive, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

Thanks to the gate about a third of the guests will be arriving a day or two before the party. About a third of the guests are already in town, and the remaining are in transit.

*-*-*

Deacon Alexander, Head of the Stone Communications Division, looked at the freshly completed rune code on the Prime Gate, and smiled, “This is wonderful!”

“So command decided to spend a third of the budget to install a new gate in a small trading town for this?” Oliver, Rune Tech and lead Rune programmer asked.

“Did you fail history?” Rune Tech second class Mashwitz countered.

“No, I just don't get it. Now HE could just walk through.” Tech Oliver replied.

The members of the “Command Staff” in attendance looked at each other and hastily retreated from the room.

*-*-*

51st of Kusha,

Nine more days. There have been several 'pre-parties' so far that we have been forced to attend due to political pressure. Brandy has received another letter, a large one this time. She is fuming angry, and has taken to drinking with gusto. My spleen is twisting with curiosity, but I will not interfere.

*-*-*

In the deep bowels of his fortress, Demon Lord Lancil admired his new outfit for the party. Pearl white tunic and hose, with crimson piping along the seams. Sapphire and ruby gemstones with accompanying embroidery thread tracing patterns of power and spells, just in case. All set off with a matching set of polished black boots and belt. He danced and twirled in front of a full length mirror, before snapping his fingers and placing the clothes in a storage space. This will be quite a fun evening. Only nine more days...

*-*-*

52nd of Kusha,

Bjorn and Sarah have arrived. Bjorn brought a 'Plus one'. Her name is 'Po Shard', and is apparently a small god. She is quiet, nervous, and shy, so naturally Brandy dragged her out for a night of drinking when Bjorn wasn't looking. She and Brandy came back giggling. GIGGLING! I don't even want to know what they were up to, but I worry. At least the town isn't on fire. Bjorn's reaction was amazing.

53rd of Kusha,

My family has arrived. So has the blasted cat.

- - -

El Gato, god king of all he surveyed, looked over the dwarven town from his comfortable perch on the family wagon, and recalled his trip. It had been fun. Mice, wolves, and wyverns to chase. Dogs to terrify. Ladies to court. And of course, make the wagon stop for him to take a walk, or bathe, or any other need he felt he had.

This new city would be his next point of conquest, even though he would not have much time in which to do it. He jumped from the wagon, and ran directly into the annoying pixie. “Move, you little piece of dust.”

“Nice to see you too, furball.”

El Gato sat down, and began to clean himself, obviously in the way of the lesser people who were attempting to unload the wagon. “And how is my little boy getting on?” He finally asked.

“He has taken to flying quite well. In a few years he will be an amazing battle mount.”

“That's...good.” El Gato stretched himself out in a suddenly appearing sunbeam, “And how does your silly party progress?”

Brandywine's mood immediately soured, “There have been a few...issues. Family related. I plan on fixing them soon.”

El Gato raised the fluffy eyebrow over his missing eye, “Really? I thought the Smith's family was happy for him.”

“They are.” Brandy replied. “There is another party that isn't.”

-

Maxwell smiled at his descendant, “A pleasure to meet you.” He appraised the man before him, short, wide, strong grip, traditional dark hair, markedly lighter skin, hazel eyes. I wish I had hazel eyes. “How was your trip?”

“It went well, even though the wagon would break down at unusual times.” Replied Harry Smithson, master smith, and head of the Smithson School of Crafts.

Maxwell looked around, walked over to a familiar looking one eyed cat, and picked it up by the scruff of it's neck, “You pull that kinda thing again, and I will beat you into your next life.” He dropped the startled cat back into the pool of sunlight. The one eyed cat hissed at him, then bolted under the wagon. Max walked back to his descendant. “When something like that happens, and That cat is around, blame the cat.”

55th of Kusha,

The elven king has arrived. Nice kid. Barely out of diapers as elves go. The head of his guards is a bit high-strung, but has his heart in the right spot.

Only a few more days until the official party.

An envoy from Queen Asterlane of Garthia has arrived. I gave him the slip for all of five minutes. I'm now stuck as the lord of two provences and a duchy. Stupid paperwork.

There is a talking sapling, in a pot, talking to the elven king, Brandy, the stupid cat, and Asterlane's envoy... Normalcy seems to have gone right out the window.

Picked up Willa 'Repute' and her charge at the town square this evening. Was nice to catch up.

-

Young King Silverhand of the elves looked at the Dwarven city of Gurakzar. Instead of towering trees there were towering mountains. Instead if winding wooded paths, there were wide cobbled roads. The occasional tree that was to be seen looked sickly, probably due to all of the smoke from the forges that hung in the air. He stifled a cough. He had left Al behind to keep the country running while he was on his first vacation and looked around for the head of his escort. “Chase, find us a guide to lead us to our lodgings.”

Chase, head of the royal guard, nodded to his king, and was in the middle of giving the order when a young man of middling height and dark hair walked up to the king himself. “Your Majesty! A pleasure to meet a non-cheating member of your family.”

Face red, and eyes bulging, Chase stepped between his king and the rude stranger, “How dare you speak to your betters in such a manner? Step back from my king, or die.”

The man in question stared into Chase's eyes, and Chase felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. “Your majesty, this man...he is dangerous.” He began to draw his sword, but a hand harder than steel grabbed his arm.

“I would think worse of you, if you didn't try to protect your liege, but maybe think about who you are dealing with first?”

Chase looked around and noticed that the king was currently being distracted by a red haired pixie. A pixie who was buzzing around his head, and asking questions at a mile a minute. He looked back to the man holding his arm, “Ah. Lord Blacksmith, I presume?”

-

Peter, member of her majesty's secret service, spotted his target as he left his lodgings. He followed at a reasonable distance, stepping through the shadows as needed, until his five minute count ended, then he advanced. In a loud voice he called out to the Heretic “Master Maxwell, about that paperwork I have for you to sign about the Duchy and provinces?”

People, mostly dwarves, stopped and stared, Questions and comments began to fly, “Duchy?”, “Thee titles?”, “I knew he was rich, but landed too?” and many others.

Stimied from moving on, Maxwell stalked back to Peter and held out his hand. “Fine. I'll sign. Just don't expect me to be happy.”

“Of course not, Lord Maxwell.” Peter smiled, handing over, and receiving back the signed and stamped documents. Now I just need to survive long enough to file these...

-

The tender sapling “I through whom the winds of morning whisper, and through me do the fall gales blow” was at a loss. It had yet to come up with a name for itself. “Bob” was to simple, “Floriana the bold and beautiful” just didn't feel right. One, maybe two 'words' seemed to be appropriate. I could just use my real name, but mother doesn't think that appropriate when there are Fae around... “Balthazar?” no. “Gale, Gale Whisper?” PERFECT!!!!!

-

The express coach from Louthfield arrived with the rise of the stars. A middle aged human woman and a boy of around ten, stepped down to the street in the town square. “Ma'am,” the driver asked, “You here for the engagement thing?”

“Yes coachman, we are.” The woman turned a slightly scared face to the coachman. “What concern is it to you?”

“Well, Ma'am, I've heard some interesting rumors,” The coachman looked at the woman's small broach displayed above and to the left of her heart, “but I suppose, what with your station in things, you know more than I.”

She nodded to the coachman, “I actually met him. I owe my advancement to him.”

The coachman raised an eyebrow, the one not cut through with scars, “You don't say?”

“She did say. Didn't she?” A voice came from the other side of the coach, as a well built, and well dressed man stepped up to the woman and put an arm around her shoulders. “How have the boys been, Ms. Willa?”

If the statues in the square were willing to talk; which they aren't; they would describe the look on the coachman's face as something between terror and...terror. Statues aren't much for comparisons.

The young boy looked up at the 'big' man, “I'm Robert!”.

The man looked down at the boy, “Nice to meet you Bob, I'm Max.”

2nd of Anael, First month of Snow

Two more days. Everyone is here. Politics have been flying around so thickly that you could cut it with a knife. At least it has been a pleasure to entertain Anna and her husband...Bruce? or something like that. She, Bri and Brandy have been inseparable since they gated in yesterday. The Actors have arrived. They plan on doing a simple play about love found and lost, called “Roma and Jules”. I'm told it also comes from the College of Rio.

Dana and Michael have also been a treat to have around. So much like my old friends... [VL note: There is a tear stain on the original manuscript at this spot.]

...Po, Sarah, Bri, Anna, Brandy, Gale the potted tree, Dana, and Willa just came in... They smell like they fell into a brewery. I can just throw Brandy into her room, as for the rest, I'm going to have to get the appropriate people up to hold hair out of chamber pots.

3rd of Anael,

The party is tomorrow. Thrice Cursed Gods, Brandywine! You could have warned me your family was coming. Shit.