Quote Originally Posted by Rebonack View Post
[Arkham Street - Black Goat Woods]

The wildfae are throwing a party.

And by wildfae we're talking about wilderness sprites, mostly.

Satyrs and fauns. Dryads and naiads and oreads. And at least two different pixie swarms. The pixies in question are presently engaged in a vitally important argument over whether sake is really wine or beer and will enlist anyone unfortunate enough to try talking to them into the argument. There are a few non-sprites here as well. A pooka or two. A pair of baobhan sith trying to entice a few satyrs to dance with them, which the normally amorous fae are refusing in an uncharacteristic flash of wisdom. And one kumiho sitting atop a boulder etched with glyphs that glow a soft mossy green, her nine tails waving with the beat of the drums.

The music thrums, the fire crackles, hooves pound the earth, and freshly stomped out wine flows freely.

A festive mood permeates the grove, but if one felt inclined to ask about the occasion the details would be fuzzy at best. What's this celebration about? Pie day, maybe? The faeries really aren't clear but who cares.

When a iron and nickle projectile lands at the edge of the grave and explodes, mulching a shy dryad in the process, the mood sours a bit.

This is obviously the work of devils and several of the inebriated satyrs (along with one really hammered faun) decide that they had better go teach those terrible imps a lesson! Grabbing a few casks of wine the not particularly well thought out raid departs the party to go cause some ruckus. After that brief interruption, however, things are quickly back in full swing!
[Arkham Street - Black Goat Woods]

"It's actually quite simple." One of Braeg's attendants explains to the group of gathered pixies. "Beer is made from grains, and wine is made from fruit. Rice is a grain, and therefore sake is a beer."

"If you look at the uses, sake really has much more in common with wine than beer." Braeg's other attendant explains. "It's a fine beverage, associated with a multitude of special occasions and ceremonies, in a way that beer just isn't. Calling it beer does it a disservice."

"What you call it doesn't change what it is-"

"Around here it doe-"

"You've got it all back-to-front-"

Braeg smirks to himself and quietly rolls his eyes. He'd long ago resolved this apparent dilemma, and was now nursing a cup of sake himself, watching the argument unfold with some amount of amusement.

...Eh, it's getting old now.

Braeg downs the rest of the drink and tosses the cup over his shoulder, causing it to vanish before it hits the ground. He wanders around the party, stopping every now and then to join in the dancing or have an impromptu drinking contest with one of the other partygoers (he cheats, obviously). But it's all done with a sense of purpose; to find someone with whom to spend the night. Not necessarily in a sexual or even romantic sense; just some close contact with someone he might regard as a kindred spirit.

There should be no shortage of those here!