General Summary
The autumn air is crisp, but not unpleasant, outside the large Corvethi concert hall. The building is a beautiful wooden structure, its enormous windows allowing the sunset’s golden rays to spill into the foyer, illuminating the large stone statue at its center. A few individuals stop to take in the somewhat unconventional piece of art—a depiction of a vested man, chest bare, holding a fish in one hand and laughing, standing amidst a jumble of crystal shards, which scatter the fading light across the floor of the building’s entrance. The last few arrivals press inside, hurrying to find their seats.
People young and old fill nearly every seat in the hall, some clearly hailing from quite far, and all dressed in their finest attire. In the front row, an attractive-looking half-elf, hair graying at the temples, reads over the program with his partner, an elven woman in a blue silk dress, her dark hair braided around a delicate golden circlet.
The seats beside the couple are conspicuously empty. The woman glances around briefly before locating her quarry high on a balcony not meant for public access. A pair of individuals, a younger man and woman of elven blood and preternatural good looks, are laughing quietly with an older elf sporting sage green locks and deep laugh lines. He meets the woman’s gaze and winks a mismatched eye. She scowls in return as her partner takes in the scene and chuckles quietly.
The hall’s lanterns dim and a hush falls over the crowd. The emcee steps onto the stage and, after the requisite acknowledgment of esteemed guests and colleagues, welcomes the first performer to the stage. A halfling girl cradling a violin steps forward to take her place, and looks out at the sea of faces. She makes a small gesture with her bow and her magically magnified voice, shaking with nerves, rings out as she introduces her piece. Her name is Kithri Truehollow, and she is a member of 500th graduating class of the Bardic Academy of Magic and Fighting. Tonight she will be performing the first movement of the Dragon Punchers Suite,
"The Quiet Dignity of a Life of Constant Toil.”
As the first notes echo across the auditorium, that is where our story ends.
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