IC: Chapter I - the Summons of King Bard

Today... it is 2946 of the Third Age, in the 5th month, upon the 31st day... It is the last enderi of yávië. 'The Harbinger of the Fading.', as the time of year is known.Perhaps you've been living in the Dale for some time now, or perhaps you're a new arrival to the area, come to heed the inspirational call of King Bard - or even just to witness the times and spectacle of this glorious rebirth!

Whatever the reason, here you are now walking under the bannered gates, entering onto the festival grounds of this spectacular celebration which the King has put on for the enrichment and enjoyment of His peoples at the beginning of this auspicious era. It is late in the afternoon on this temperate autumnal day, and as the sun approaches the ridge-tops of the Mountains of Mirkwood to the southwest the sky is just beginning to burn orange.

You look about, and beyond all the tents and flags and hustle and bustle of the festival before you, you can see Esgaroth - Lake-town, herself, reborn! - sitting on the waters of the Long Lake... Waves lapping up serenely against her foundational timbers.

There is a variety of festivities available, should you wish to partake of them: vendors selling meat-pies and sweets (and more), an archery contest being held off to your left in a long meadow, silly games of skill for the children, a variety of performers and other spectacles (a strong man, jugglers, singers, and such), as well as mead and ale-tents where - you have no doubt - other good times of a more adult nature are being had..

You have some time yet before the main event is scheduled to be held... this is what you have truly came for today, you can't miss it... There is a parade just before sunset, which is rumored to feature an oliphaunt! Said to be brought up from the lands of Khand to the south... you can hardly believe it's true.

More likely to be a particularly large Kine of Araw... you figure.

But curiosity has gotten the best of you, and you must see for yourself. But until that time, at least, you have some moments to enjoy the festival.

Vidar isn't sure what his dreams are telling him, each one is different. He's used to that. But Dale kept featuring, with increasing drama until he set off here. Now, he's arrived in Dale, no more dreams.

Dreams don't buy food though, so Vidar is looking for some bored looking people who'd pay for a story or a song.

...

Astrid approaches the archery contest and a man, who looks like he just be running the thing, comes up to her smiling, "'At bow is bigger 'n you are, lass! But if'n you can use it, well, yer welcome ta step up to the line, and let fly! First round is almost over."...

It's perhaps not surprising that Caranthiel feels a little overwhelmed. For an elf, such a collection of fleeting fancies probably seems a little silly and childish. But as he walks by a mead-tent, he over hears the fluid sounds of native Silvan Elvish, there are apparently at least some other elves here...

...

Hugo can smell the scents of browned-butter tarts, mint-glazed quail gizzards, and a host of other treats!

Vidar doesn't see really anybody that looks particularly bored, and he finds that all formal gathering places (mead/ale/food tents, stages) seem to have a performer of one sort or another purposefully occupying them.

However, there doesn't appear to be anything to stop him from just performing in an open, well-trafficked area....

As Eadmer doors and enjoys his food, he hears a crier beckoning people to a livestock showing, on the fair grounds, preceding the parade. Promising the finest horse-flesh in the North!

Vidar is a bit disappointed to not be able to get in the warm to work, but at least it's not raining. As there's some horse-based attraction making some fuss, perhaps setting up close-but-not-too-close to that would be a good place to break out the harp, tune it, and play something lively from his old Dwarven hall. It's a bit quiet, as the Grey Mountain "halls" are probably quite small and meagre to a finer dwarf from Dale or Erebor, but gives Vidar's fingers and voice some exercise as he gets into it.

Eadmer meanders up to the livestock showing area. It is very crowded - apparently one of the highlights for festival goers, and as he wades into the press, he finds much of the show is goats, sheep, cattle, and hogs, but finally he does catch sight of horse stalls a bit down the way...

... Maybe it just wasn't the right "venue", or maybe the livestock-crowd just isn't much for the jigs of dwarven halls, and ... or... perhaps he needed a little ale to loosen up before performing? Whatever the reason the dwarf with the harp isn't viewed warmly as the festival-goers go about their way in the press around the show animals. The evening is not lost yet, though! Perhaps he can yet make something of it?

...

Astrid doesn't shoot well in her first round, but she moves through the course expertly! She feels strong and her body knows what to expect now, and despite her initial poor showing, she feels great for the next round!

Caranthiel's eyes transition easily and instantly to the relatively darkened interior of the mead tent. There's nothing too unusual going on in here. Groups of men, groups of women, groups of men and women, of the various cultures of the Free Peoples, standing about having a good time. He sees the Silvan speakers are a couple elves and a man standing at a raised table, playing a dice game.

...

Astrid's shooting is like a glorious day after a long night, this round. Her arrows fly true and she scores very well! But perhaps the course takes a bit of a toll, as she is not feeling so strong by the end of it... One round left. If she can follow up her strong second round with another decent performance, she may do well enough to place......

Vidar sits to watch the archery contest, and it is a fierce but good-natured competition. Watching man and woman, elf and dwarf, all striving to best one another yet still congratulating each other on their good performances... It's impossible to believe that the Enemy could ever stand against such spirit!...

As a hobbit, it's easier perhaps for Hugo to move through the crowds. And as he walks before the stalls, he can't help but be impressed by the beasts brought here. Here's seen finer wools on the sheep of the Shire. But the size of these hogs...! And the strength of the steers! It appears that the Dale and the North really has returned, for no small field couple keep these animals....

Eadmer is no small man, and so on his way to the horses - which are a popular attraction - he can't help but have to push by folk, and be collided with. But he does get there, and can finally appraise the animals that these North men seem so proud of.