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It was the third night where huge bonfires had sprung up off in the distance and Geet and Medea were becoming more and more curious about what was happening to cause such large gatherings to form. No longer able to contain their curiosity they had packed small bags of food and taken it upon themselves to head out at dusk, right when the fires were lit, to head out towards them.

With the moon rising in the sky and fireflies now dancing in the darker portions of the landscape, Geet took the opportunity to look around. It was beautiful out here at night, with the songs of crickets and frogs mingling with the steady shush shush shush of the grasses rustling in the wind. The whole area still smelled of sunshine and promise. “Why do you think they are gathering now?” Geet had asked into the night not really expecting an answer. The weather had been steadily getting more hot, and the summer harvests were starting to bloom, it seemed an odd time for people to be leaving their farms. “Summer stories” Medea had grunted, “after all that back breaking hard work during the day, it's nice to socialize and take it easy at night”. Geet nodded along appeased, “maybe one of our friends will have been curious enough to head out here too” she mused.

The sun had barely set before Piper had slung her lute onto her shoulder. The early spring bonfires were one of her best crowds and she had been determined to get there early and grab a good spot. She had arrived early and watched the start of the bonfire, even helping by fetching some material to burn. Once the flames licked upwards her lute was unclasped and placed carefully in front of her. She strummed it gently, much like a mother stroking their pup, affection clear in her eyes. The lute had been with her through the toughest times, and it was one of the few possessions that had survived the fire that took her first home. The scuffmarks were well earned, each a hardship that she had conquered.

But that was times long ago, and now there was a new crowd ahead of her to please. At first she simply played songs, common ones that everyone knew. After all working the crowd meant building it from the ground up and if they could join in they’d be much more appreciative of the stories to come. Waterskins and steins of ale and beer were swapped back and forth, one dourin farmer even plopped a tankard down next to Piper, citing his lack of coin. She smiled wide and thanked him, it was the second best thing to have something to whet her throat with come the later hours. It had gone slowly at first, but the time had been lost to the merriment and so the sun was gone for the day, hiding behind the far horizon to recuperate for tomorrow. It was time to start telling the stories Piper noted, but the crowd was still going strong with the drinking songs. She contemplated bringing them down slowly, but decided against it. The better choice was clearly to end the song on a great cheer and so she led the crowd louder and louder, many shouting way off-key just to get their voices in. As the final line of the unsurprisingly lewd song was sang the gathering devolved into cheers, hollers and laughter. Perfect, Piper thought.

Geet and Medea made it to the campfire where Piper was just as she finished the last few notes  of a song. They had heard the cheers and singing from a long way off and decided they wanted to see what the commotion was about. Around the fire, revelry was in full swing; creatures from all over Som participating in food, drink, and general excitement. Geet was so excited she didn’t know what to do with herself. Did she get something new to eat or drink, belt out a song, or join in on the chanting that some had taken up “Story! Story! Story!”. All aquiver with indecision she nudged at Medea, “what do you want to do?”, hoping that her cousin would make her mind for them both.

Unlike Geet, Medea was more interested in the spiced smells of prepared meats and sweet ale. Since there was no fighting ring and all the current drunks seemed nothing short of amicable, there was no fight to be had. So her mind latched on to food and what new recipes could she ferret out from the people here. The bard that had been playing looked somewhat familiar but since they stood at her back, she couldn’t quite make out who it was. A portly baker approached the bard and Medea made up her mind, “Geet lets go say ‘hi” to the singer and maybe she can introduce us to the guy offering her such amazing smelling flatbread”.

Piper was overjoyed with the success of her songs and all the coins that she was amassing in the knapsack by her feet. A baker approached with some wrapped bread, citing his lack of coin and she gladly accepted, packing it safely into her pack. The chanting was getting overwhelming by now and Piper even chanted along for a few beats before laughing and standing up.
“A story it is!” she shouted and the crowd cheered, celebrating their successful persuasion. No sooner than Piper had the chance to strum a few chords did the sounds die down to an even sorl.
“This story is an old one, but so are all the best ones.” she cleared her throat and strummed one final chord, asking for silence and setting the mood.

“Long before our time, far to the east amongst islands and far out to sea there was a pirate captain by the name of Brinefur. His mane was darker than the darkest blue and it reflected the water like he himself was blessed by the sea. It was said his ship was steered by none other than Caspens own will, so powerful was Brinefur.” the legend went on and what a grand tale it was, thrilling battles where Piper would play her lute in a manner that made each sword-clash ever the more real. Big monsters, love and even a mutiny. A taller tale had probably never been told by this very bonfire and Piper reveled in all of the attention. As she finished the last bit of the legend she dropped to a whisper, telling of a map said to still be out there leading to the very treasure that Brinefur had collected during his time. She saw the eyes of children of all races alike grow wide, there’d b adventure in their little noggins for days to come.

At first Medea had been angry that they hadn’t managed to get to the bard before she opened her big trap to begin a story. The first few lines of the story had wrapped her deep into a tale of adventure and excitement. Everything around her had faded away into obscurity; instead she was tasting the salt on her tongue, the rocking of the boat beneath her paws, and the splash of the waves against her fur. Her heart had sped up during the scenes of fighting and she had a tear in her eye when the adventure wound down and was finished. By the time the bard had stopped talking she had completely forgotten that she was annoyed. Stories like the one she had just heard were basically like a type of food in and of themselves; it sated the soul. With a big stupid grin on her face she let out a sigh and looked to Geet.

Geet hadn’t quite been as interested in the story as Medea had; Where was the story of a hard working farmer? Or the search for a mystical mushroom of unimaginable rarity? She did enjoy the general tone of everyone within earshot. They were all paying rapt attention, and gasping and ;laughing at exactly the right moments. When it was over, there was a pregnant silence before a burst of raucous cheering and discussion broke out. It was nice to ride the feeling wave with such a huge gathering. She wanted another story, but hopefully, this time, it would be one that she could connect with more. “Another tale!” she shouted out as she curled herself against Medea to get more comfortable.