A mosaic of reds that stretch into hues of deep magenta and dusky crimson fill the air. Leaves of all sizes dance. Each with their own style.

The larger leaves, older and more mature, twirl like ballerinas or slide side to side in mesmerizingly beautiful waltzes. Meanwhile the youngsters, small leaves, some no bigger than pennies and feather-light, are more erratic in their youthful displays. They bounce up and down on the breeze as if it were the thumping base of a dance club.

Most still manage to avoid the travelers on the streets. Giving wide berths. Unquestionably exhausted after the long, dance routine journey, from the twisted boughs above they delicately alight onto the thoroughfare. Perhaps in the hope that they will be left alone as they lie down to rest.

No such luck.

Their crunchy cries of agony echo off the wood and stone buildings as their bodies are trampled and ground into the cobblestones by foot and hoof alike.

Others, no doubt witnessing the brutality befalling their kind, flock together in clouds. Choosing instead to gather in mass. Surely for protection from the terrifying creatures who obliviously crush those who choose to carpet the streets.

They must feel safe as they are gathered and piled together in larger and more massive piles. Taken away in big rolling wagons. Until that is they are unceremoniously shoved into the smoldering pits dug into the earth.

Choking smoke pours from the epicenter of the lumps as they are shoveled higher and higher. Then the fires burst forth and, for a short time, the thick smoke drifting into the sky vanishes. Leaves and logs alike crumble into grey and black ash. Consumed in the hellish infernos.

And yet their torment does not end there. Scooped up their ashes are mixed with solutions and crushed down. Compressed into brick sized blocks and stacked on top of one another on pallets. Carted away to warehouses where they sit with other tree relatives such as crates of sawdust and huge cuts of wood.

Yet even in the face of these horrific displays of wanton genocidal annihilation there are those that are fiercely bold among the leaves. They alight on shoulders and heads, steal kisses upon cheeks and then quickly spin away as waving hands attempt to dissuade or give chase.

And they are not without warriors either. Hidden in plain sight amongst the others, they strike from the camouflage of the leafy deluge. Violently going straight for the eyes or mouth. Determined to blind or choke their would be murderers.

One of these fearless foliage fighters spins toward me and I jink my head to the side to avoid the attack.

Kryst isn't so lucky.

"Wha- pfft -ummph!"

The hand sized leaf all but smothers her. If it was soft and supple like the ones still clinging to the immense boughs of the Redtree it may have been able to engulf the Barbie doll sized fairy. In its dry state, perfect for ocular assault but not so much for smothering, it splits and cracks.

"How can you beat the crap out of a person like eighty seven times your size, yet you can still get owned by a leaf?" I tease.

"You know what, Too Tall?" Kryst hops about on my shoulder, one leg stuck through the crispy leaf to her knee. "Being a dingbat has never hurt anyone, but do you really wanna take that chance?" Her tiny fists punch through her attacker and she angrily tears it in half.

A puff of dry dust erupts from the quickly fought battle and Kryst lets out a Tinkerbelle-like sneeze.

"Bles--" I catch myself before I finish and turn my head. Kryst is glaring daggers straight into my eyes.

"Don't you even think about it." She warns, "Humph! You and your weird god invoking tendencies."

Perception: Success!

I roll my eyes but catch a raised eyebrow glance from Captain Raven who is close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough to not be involved. Especially with the entourage surrounding her.

I'd would like to talk to her little more but the guards have been keeping her occupied as we walk. Now that we are not headed to the 'police station' everything has gotten much more relaxed and most of the guard have migrated closer to the sexy airship captain as we walk. It has almost become a competition between the lot of them as they vie for her attention. Seldom have I been in similar situations but I have definitely seen it before.

Guys falling over themselves to one up each other. Trying to be a little to humorous and acting a bit too friendly in their attempts 'to assist the sexy girl who has wandered into the comic store and shown a vague interest in something geeky.'

Captain Raven catches my look and gives me a smile.

My guts tighten and male brain neurons start popping like fireworks. A sliver of me wants to go over there and get in on the action too; interpose myself with them. To win her interest and steal her away from the rest of the pack with a display of social dominance.

Magical Resistance- Charm (Dark Elf)

I push it down and step a little closer to Cinnamon.

There's a tension in the bunny babe's shoulders and she's nibbling delicately at the corner of her lip. Since we have left the docks Cinni has been a bit out of sorts. I wonder what it is...

Insight vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail!

…but I can't quite put my finger on what is bothering her exactly . I guess with everything that has happened in the past few hours she has every right to be nervous. After all the general hustle and bustle of the city around us has me a little on edge so I can only imagine what kind of warning lights are being set off in her shy-girl defenses systems.

She doesn't look over but one of her ears orients in my direction. A clear sign that she is taken notice of me walking beside her. I start a bit when I feel her fingers entwine with my own. Instantly the tension in Cinnamons shoulders ebbs. She turns and gives me one of her insanely cute, close-eyed coo smiles. And just like that, any thoughts of sliding over and attempting to impress Raven, disappear entirely.

We've made our way through the city from the docks, heading in a meandering route toward the gargantuan trunk of the Redtree. The leaves have started to fall less as we draw closer. They still fill the air, but not as thickly as the constant cascade around the edges of the city as we follow on the heels of our guards now turned guides.

It seems that Crod had done just as he said that he would. I can only guess that while we were sneaking along on rooftops, avoiding and beating up guards in streets, at lest we forget the hell-evator incident, the troll must have met with somebody in charge and let them know that Cinnamon was here to see her grandfather.

That Cinni is related to Geomaister Midnight got more than a little bit of attention from Marshal Tomas and the guards and so we are being escorted to meet with someone at Silverstone.

I recall Crod mentioning it before. Apparently, it's some kind of government institution. One of those buildings where all the big decisions are made. Or perhaps the mayor's office would be a more apt comparison. At least that's the closest correlation I can come up with any rate based on the info I gathered from chatting with Alec and Sully on our walk. Before the latter guard moved closer to chat with Raven that is.

The road winds on in front of us toward a dark wood palisade wall that rises high above the buildings that cluster on either side of the street. As we draw closer, however, I realize that it isn't a man made structure as I had first believed but is in actuality, one of the huge roots of the Redtree.

Thinking we will veer off to go around I glance about for an approaching turn-off but, our escort continues forward and I see, to my amazement, that the street carves straight through the root in front of us.

I've seen pictures of roadways cut through the redwood trees in California but seeing something similar in... real life? I literally shake my head. No. The only real similarity with my world and this was that they were both tunnels carved through wood.

Redwoods are big, and the tunnels in them were, what? Maybe twelve or fifteen feet long and a car width wide? This dwarfs it and then some. It's so large two wagons pass each other with room to spare on either side for pedestrians.

This passageway is more like a castle gatehouse. A comparison which grows more firm in my mind as we advance.

One either side of the entrance silvery gates are pushed wide open for the foot and wagon traffic. Two stories tall and elaborately decorated with twisted metal vines. Reminiscent of art nouveau architecture, they are not only defensive but a thing of beauty.

I stare in wonder while we make our way through the colossal root. There are even doorways carved into the sides; guard rooms, if the pikemen moving in and out are any indication.

And above, beyond the gates at either side of the tunnel, the edge of a portcullis peaks from the ceiling. Most of it is hidden but by what I can see it is undoubtedly embellished just as ornately as the gates.

But even amongst the beauty and wonder of it I see the sickness in the roots of the Redtree too.

A group of workers on ladders and hanging scaffolding scrape and saw at a section of crumbling wood around a small hole in the ceiling. Perhaps a murder hole that can be used for defense. A place where spears could be thrust from, or worse, boiling oil poured down onto attackers attempting to gain entry through the tunnel.

As we pass one of the workmen pulls free a volleyball sized chunk of rotten wood. He drops it to the ground and it breaks, crumbling into chalk like dust. Further sections have already been repaired. The ceilings patched with new wood and a shiny varnish to protect the damaged sections from further exposure.

We pass from the shadow of the tunnel and my is breath taken away and I'm pretty sure that I have teared up a little bit in pure joy.

It is still a little ways off, at the end of the roadway but ahead of us, at the base of the Redtree; nestled between the gargantuan roots and protected by another series of high, stone walled parapets, sits a fantastical castle.

From this distance we all get a good view of the majestic building. Constructed of some kind of white and silvery infused marble the tall towers and spires of the castle seem to almost glow in the sunlight.

Beyond the castle more structures can be seen clinging to the trunk of the Redtree with ornate bridges, some of stone and others of shaped wood stretch between castle and tree. Even from this distance my sharp elven eyes pick out windows, balconies and walkways carved into the trunk.

"Whoa! Check out the buildings on the tree." I say, uncaring that I undoubtedly look like a complete tourist as my eyes bug out."That's amazing."

Kryst sighs then shuffles about and plops down on my shoulder, obviously unimpressed.

"Yeah?" Alec gets a quizzical look on his face. "I'd have thought... well you know, elf cities and all, would look much better than what we have around here."

"Drow actually work more with crystal than flora." I say absently. A moment later my brain catches up with my mouth. Huh? And just as shocking, I know the statement that I’d made is true. That same instinctive understanding of Despthfell. The homeland of 'us' Shadowkin.

"That's the Silverstone Citadel up ahead." Alec points.

"The guard are gonna make you some kinda investigations officer if you keep up with that sort of top tier analytical problem solving." Kryst grunts, leaning back against my neck like I'm her personal lounge chair.

"I guess you figured that one out on your own." Alec laughs, completely unoffended.

"I’ve been here before." Cinnamon pipes up glancing around, excitement tinting here voice. "It’s been a long time but up there..." She indicates a row of bushes and archways of foliage. "Ohh! Those are the gardens, right?" Cinnamon ears perk up and from the way Kryst moves on my shoulder she has taken notice as well. The fairy however keeps silent.

"Oh, yeah? Do they have tree sculptures and statues and hedge mazes in there?" I ask feeding off her enthusiasm.

"They used too. When I was a kit I would play in there for hours." Cinnamons head bobbles, her tail doing its little double twitch, "Maybe later we can go and see, Brian? It was really pretty with all the flowers."

Cinnamon takes a shifty side glance to the guards and I find myself doing the same. A sudden bit of tension tightens my muscles as she leans in close with a whisper that tickles my ear.

"And they had these big patches of wild carrots that were really yummy too." She touches a finger to her lips, "The groundskeepers would get really mad if they caught you taking them, but I know some tricks to sneak some without them knowing."

I try my best not to laugh at either the devious sparkle in her eye or the mental picture of a little bunny girl scampering about with arm loads of carrots while being chased by some poor irate gardner.

"Sure, Cinni. That sounds great." I grin. "Maybe we can have a little picnic there later. Have ourselves a... bite?" I waggle my brows to indicate my willingness to swipe some vegetables with her.

"Eh. It is nice I suppose." Alec wobbles his head from side to side, "Maybe not as vibrant as it was. The plants in there are kind of shabby looking if you ask me. Lots more vines and thorny sorts of bushes in there now."

"Marshal Tomas?" Tall and alabaster skinned a woman appears like magic from the garden archway ahead. Striking red hair pools on her shoulders; a match to the form fitting, and perhaps a tad to elegant for the street, dress.

What the heck is it with this place and all the hot ladies? Is it something in the water?

"I thought that was you." The woman smiles and walks toward the officer with a elegant gait. "How fair you this lovely afternoon? And Mr. Plogz?" She pauses when she sees the elderly goblin. She gives a ruby lipped smile and friendly nod, to which the he responds in kind.

"I am well, Lady Civata." Marshal Tomas bows slightly in acknowledgement.

"I was just about to head back to my office. I simply had to get away from all those stressful errands and meetings for a moment. I'd decided to take a short break and a much deserved stroll through the gardens."

"It is a good day for it."

I have to agree with the Marshals assessment. A handful of lazy clouds drift past the mountains, heading out over the open sea in the distance. There is a brinkness to the air in the shadow of the Redtree, but enough diffused sunlight makes it past the canopy to combat the chill.

"Isn't it?" The Lady smiles, "Locked inside a stuffy room, dealing with endless paperwork. It really is such a chore, you know? I'm sure Mr. Plogz knows exactly what I'm talking about. Isn't that correct Mr. Plogz? But please do not misunderstand, I am wholeheartedly appreciative of the trust placed upon me by the city. However, the drudgery of slaving away, cooped up behind closed doors?" She lets out a small sigh. "It can be a absolute drain on one's faculties."

A silence descends on the group. Even the guards trying to impress Captain Raven have gone silent. Marshal Tomas looks like he wants to speak but holds his tongue. While Mr. Plogz gives no indication he has any intention of opening his mouth, at least judging by his tightly sealed lips.

"I was not expecting to see you or Mr. Plogz today. We were not scheduled for a meeting today, correct? No, I'm sure we were not. I would have made a point too..." She says with a smile but, then a look of concern passes over her face. "Wait! Is something amiss in Cragcliff?"

"There have been some... developments." Marshal Tomas says.

"Oh? How so?" Her brows furrow.

For a moment I wonder just how much the Marshal is going to share about the sabotage of the lifter or how Cinnamon, Kryst and I had been wanted for questioning.

"Guard matters, at the moment, m' lady. However, for where your office interests are concerned everything is progressing smoothly. I have yet to get the latest build developments from Mr. Plogz, but, I have already begun to write-up my reports regarding the merchants that have arrived and their various order manifests."

"That is wonderful news." She beams, "I do so look forward to reading them. Your reports are always a pleasure to peruse." She places a hand gently on the guards forearm and gives him a wink. "I have told you many times before, as much as I rely on the work you do I do believe you missed your calling. You should have been a writer, Marshal Tomas."

"The idea does hold a certain level of interest. I am certainly no scribe but still I thank you once again for the compliment, Lady Civata." Tomas chuckles. "Perhaps when I retire there will be time for such pursuits."

"Nonsense. I'm sure you can fit in a spare moment between your duties." The Lady pulls her hand back and smiles.

"If only that were true. I fear that both you and councilman Karabos have kept us quite busy over at the docks."

"Yes, I suppose I do have to take some of the blame for that. That's the problem with progress. It's such an absolutely dreadful amount of work. Isn't it?" She turns her head toward us and our guard escort. More than a few nod agreement to the rhetorical question.

"So then, if not for Cragcliff business, pray tell what brings the two of you to the citadel today?" Lady Civata asks, addressing the question toward Tomas and Plogz. Although her eyes pass over the entire group…

Perception: Success!

...lingering a bit longer on Cinnamon and Kryst.

"Were you not informed? I have received orders that these visitors should be brought directly to you."

"Really?" Her brows furrow and then relax. "Of course. I know what has happened. I had decided to have my lunch in the gardens today. Late as usual. As you know, Tomas, I barely get the time for that sort of thing. I will admit to being more than a little jealous of fine men and women like yourselves who get to work outside. Nothing clears the head like a breath of fresh air and a bit of sun."

"I have heard you say similar on more than one occasion." Marshal Tomas says.

"Forgive me. I do sometimes tend to repeat myself don't I? And, listen to me, here I go again, prattling on. Anyhow, Morren must have taken the message and given approval. Knowing I wouldn't be gone for too long and to expedite things for both your and my benefit, I'm sure."

"Be careful, Lady Civata. That aide of yours may be looking to lay claim to your seat on the council."

"I beg your pardon?" The Lady touches her chest in a startled motion. "I have never had a more loyal assistant than Morren. He keeps things organized as no one else can. Yes, he may be privy to many of the comings and goings of my office but that is his job after all."

"All I mean is that, as of late, I swear I deal more with him than I do you." The Marshal chuckles.

"Oh, nonsense." Lady Civata waves a dismissive hand, then pauses. "Beside, is that such a bad thing?"

"Well, he is a bit stiff. But, I suppose that is unfair. After all, no one can light ones day as you do, m'lady."

"Marshal Tomas." She winks, "You are always the charmer." She covers her mouth with a hand as she chuckles.

I look between the both of them. My player instincts buzzing. I attempt to focus. To see if there is something else going on between these two.

Insight vs Lady Civata: Fail!

Insight vs Marshal Tomas: Fail!

Their body language and demeanors are difficult to read. With nothing jumping out at me that indicates anything other than two colleagues simply sharing a conversation. That does compute. If she is some sort of a politician and him a police officer, I suppose they might possess skills or abilities that would allow either of them to mask their intentions.

"Now as delightful as it is, and as much as I'd love to chat the day away, I suppose it is past time I returned to my duties." Lady Civata motions to the Marshal and therefore the group to follow as she turns toward a expensive looking carriage. Black lacquered and covered with ornate gold filigree and accents it sits parked at the side of the road, a short distance from the entrance to the gardens. "Why don't you catch me up on what all this is about?"

"Yes, of course. It seems that these folks are here to see Geomaister Midnight." Marshal Tomas says, falling into step smartly beside the graceful woman.

"Ahh, did he send word that he needed some... assistance or something?" The Lady eyes us as we walk. "Geomaister Midnight does have a certain amount of autonomy in dealing with issues pertaining to the Redtree. However, I do hope that you all haven't been offered any sort of employment." Lady Civata locks Cinnamon with a stare. "I would hate for you to have journeyed here under some sort of promised work agreement. If he has contacted your group for support, that should really have been run by myself and perhaps even the council first for approval.""

"Umm, no..." Cinnamon voice is meek and she bites her lip a little in that cute nervous way of hers.

"It's nothing like that, Lady... Civata?" I step to Cinnamons rescue, "If I may, Miss Cinnamon Butter here is a relative of Mr. Midnight. We were actually just passing through when we heard that her grandfather was in the city. Well, can you imagine if he should later find out that that his favorite granddaughter had come by and not stopped in for a visit?"

Lady Civata stops at the carriage and the driver hurries over and places a hand on the door handle.

"Oh! Gracious me. I do beg your pardon." The Lady's eyes go wide, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "So, he didn't know that you were coming? Isn't that wonderful. Who doesn't love surprises?" She winks.

"People who find half a worm in an apple they're eating." Kryst counters.

"Airship captains who learn their flock of promised and paid for fairies have been confiscated by guard." Captain Raven jumps on the bandwagon as well, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm not actually following..." The Lady says, ignoring Krysts jab and turning her attention to take notice of the irate swashbuckler. "Wait, you are Captain Reigns? Of the Pirya Phoenix, correct? Well, isn't this splendid. I saw your ship at port and how silly of me to not realize that was who you were immediately. We have messaged a few times in the past. What an absolute pleasure to speak with you face to face. But? You said you had some problems with an order of fairies?"

Captain Raven opens her mouth but Lady Civata continues talking in a steady stream.

"We have had some issues with fairies of late. Now, to be fair, that would be more councilman Karabos's office that you would need to contact should you wish to file some a report or complaint, but... No! Fear not, Captain. If there is some sort of problem with an unfulfilled order, we can certainly look into getting it sorted out for you. After all, we cannot have our visiting Airships leaving here unhappy now can we? On another note, you should have received a invitation to the gala tonight, correct? I made sure it was sent over by courier the moment that you had docked so it should have been waiting for you."

The Captain looks a bit stunned by the sudden deluge of dialogue."Yes, I did, but--"

"Fantastic. It will be marvelous to talk with you in a more comfortable setting." The Lady's attention quickly swings back over to Cinnamon. "And, Miss Butter, I have no doubt that it will be an absolute delight for Geomaister Midnight to see you. He has been so hard at work lately. Dealing with all of this." She makes an absent gesture to the air and the leaves floating down.

"We will have to do something special then. Oh! I have a brilliant idea." She gives a tiny nod and the carriage driver opens the door to a lavishly decorated interior. "As I've just said, we are having a bit of a get together this evening. Some of the new merchants and traders will be attending. Various people of import here in Redtree. A meet and greet you might say."

"Mr. Plogz, Marshal Tomas and Captain Reigns will be there, so let me extend the invitation to the three of you as well." Lady Civata takes the offered hand of the driver and steps inside with polished dignity.

She takes a breath and looks between each of us. I suppose since I had spoken for Cinnamon earlier she finally settles her icy blue-eyed gaze onto me, waiting for a response.

"Well, umm, that sounds great." I lie. The ability to rub elbows at social functions has never been my strongest character trait. I'm about to make up some long winded excuse when a thought races through my head. I know that I have some sort of deception skill listed on my character sheet. Should I try and deceive her I'd most likely be forcing some sort of skill versus skill off. At least that's what I would do If I were Game Mastering the scene. With her being a politician type, her social based checks would most likely be quite formidable. And, should that be the case, she'd probably easily catch me in the lie.

I try a different tactic."Really. We thank you for the invite, but I'm afraid we didn't travel with any clothes for a fancy party."

"Think nothing of it. And clothing will be minor inconvenience at best. I will see that it is all sorted out for you."

Crap. Welp, that didn't work. But still...

"Now, I really must get back to my office." Lady Civata rolls on, "I have so much to do to get ready for this evening, as I'm sure you can well imagine. How about we do this? Marshal Thomas? Would you be so kind to escort these fine folks to the Citadels guest wing? I will let them know to to arrange for rooms and amenities."

"Yes, of course, Lady Civata."

"Excellent! I look forward to talking with you all this evening." Lady Civata makes a small hand motion to the driver then gives us another beaming smile and a wink. "Until then."

The carriage then pulls away. Kicking up leaves and leaving the lot of us in a state of bewildered silence.

Kryst head swings back and forth between Cinnamon and I with a raised brow look of confusion.

"What the hells was that?!"