Days of Silver Festivals
Reynald
As the sun near its zenith and Abondavie's activities begin a slow ebb from the highs of the morning's activities to preparations for the festival's supper, Seignour Reynald de Valrenard de Clairmont-Petitefleur, a man marked by lineage and burden, his visage etched with the gravity of a nobleman beset by urgent matters, strides into the town. The jubilation of the Silver Festivals, with its radiant banners and bursts of mirthful music, seem distant to his preoccupied mind, the vibrant tapestry of celebration a stark contrast to the somber shades that color his thoughts.
The clamor of the town, a symphony of revelry to most, registers as a distant cacophony to Reynald, the laughter and chatter interwoven with his own inner disquiet. The aromas of succulent roasts and sweet confections, floating on the air like the town's own culinary heralds, fail to tempt his senses, muted by the pressing weight of his quest. Around him, the townsfolk of Abondavie are a blurred mosaic of lives untouched by his own tribulations—joyous, carefree, their faces turned towards the sun and away from the shadow that clings to Reynald's solemn countenance.
With every step towards the heart of Abondavie, Reynald's eyes scan the faces, seeking the one man whose presence here is as crucial as it is elusive—Seignour Étienne de Marceau d’Boudin-Lautte. The town unfolds before him, its streets a labyrinth of laughter and commerce, children weaving through the legs of adults like threads of life darting through the fabric of the day. Stalls line the pathways, merchants hawking wares of every kind, from the exotic to the homely, their calls a din that Reynald tunes out in his pursuit.
Reaching the town's center, where stands a tall stone monolith carved and etched to venerate the Moon Goddess, Reynald pauses. The pillar's outstretched top pointing to the heavens, a symbol of mortals reaching out in supplication to their goddess, mirrors the disquietude urging him onwards, despite his tiredness. The village center is a pulsing heart, the throng of the crowd ebbing and flowing like the tides of the sea, yet in this moment, Reynald feels an island unto himself, isolated amidst the press of life.
Under the watch of the pillar, Reynald steadies himself, the enormity of his task crystallizing with newfound clarity. He must find Seignour Étienne de Marceau d’Boudin-Lautte, for within that encounter lies the key to resolving the dire straits that ensnare his family's fate. With a deep breath drawn from the depths of his lineage, Reynald readies himself to plunge into the revelry.
Reynald, as you start, we'll assume along the way your able to quickly secure a place to store your things and a place to sleep--for the sake of expediting the process--so go ahead and mark down your payment and notate what equipment you leave or carry.