Lawn Of Power

And so it was that, as the seasons changed and the day cowered before the growing night, the towering skeletal envoys of the Bone Delegation concluded their work in the realm of Yarrdë and retreated to their home region of Gya’raj for their long sleep.

But they had not made it far into this journey when they met a peculiar party traveling the other way. A wizard with a beard as white as the trim upon his red robes led a group of horned beasts capable of flight and a small cadre of elfin minions, all of them carrying strange vines adorned with dormant orbs.

“Halt,” said the leader of the Bone Delegation.

The wizard stopped, as did his party. “Do you seek to block our way?”

“Nay,” said the leader of the Bone Delegation. “Your choices are your own, and we will not impede upon them. We seek only to issue a warning. The moon expands her cold dominion with each passing day. Soon, we fear, the realm of Yarrdë shall grow gray with death and then white as the sky rains down frozen ash upon the ground.”

“Fear not, friend,” the wizard said. “For the environment you describe is precisely that we seek.”

The leader of the Bone Delegation could not believe what he was hearing. “You choose, willfully, to wallow in such dismal conditions?”

“We wallow not, friend,” said the wizard. “We illuminate Yarrdë during its harshest season, transforming its dreary contours into joy with our orb-laden vines and our jolly presence.”

“Fascinating,” said the leader of the Bone Delegation.

“But now, friend, will you answer one question of mine? Is there a wellspring? One that gushes forth with neither water nor any other liquid, but pure energy?”

The leader of the Bone Delegation nodded. “You will find what you seek, a protrusion that remains tall and green even as the grass around it withers. From that shall you and your party receive boundless energy.”

“Very well,” said the wizard with a smile. “Then our orbs shall blaze the night through. Or part of the night. If someone sets a timer. Which we’re led to believe is possible. Now, if you will excuse us, we arrive earlier and earlier to Yarrdë each year, and we must be on our way.”

“And we ours,” said the leader of the Bone Delegation.