Snow drifted slowly from the skies to the ground above, as poor ratonga families huddled under the city streets, in the sewers, gathering around fires, for warmth.. the air was buzzing with the groans of hungry tummies.
“Papa?” a young, white tonga looked up at her father, her thin fingers wrapping around his tail. “Mis tummy.. is hungries”. Her father wrapped a blanket around her to keep her warm, he wished he could cry.. but, he must stay brave for his children. “I knows, I knows.. may I’s finds sometings tomorrows”. He looked around at what was left of his brood, his wife had been killed a few days earlier.. his four remaining children all curled up around the small fire, each one thin from hunger.. he himself has not eaten today while he split a moldy sausage for his young ones.
The Ratonga father was just drifting off to sleep when he heard a commotion from down the tunnel.. his eyes opened to see torch light coming closer and thought the worse as he woke his young brood and held them close, as they were too weak to flee. “This iis Its” he thought, “Damned Militias comes to clears us’s outs.. Brells, pleases.. nots make my babies suffers..” His heart sank into dispair and accepted his fate as he closed his eyes and prepared for a club to the head, or the cold steel of militia sword.
He heard a soft sound, not steel or club, not marching militia, no screams.. but.. then felts a warm hand on his shoulder and then a soft voice which said simply “Merry Frostfell, Mister..”
He opened his eyes, as his children did as well, to find a little gnome wearing little round glasses.. holding a plate of frostfell cookies. The children’s eyes were wide and their mouths dropped open in excitement. “Please, They’re all for you!” the gnome smiled warmly and jumped quickly out of the way while the little tonga’s pounced and quickly munched the plate of cookies until not a crumb was left.
The Ratonga father’s eyes welled up with tears as he blinked with disbelief and asked the little gnome “but.. whys?”. The little gnome smiled and held out her hand to him. “Come on! it’s FROSTFELL!!” the gnome exclaimed as she helped him to his feet. She reached into her pack and pulled out another cookie and handed to him.
The torch light down the tunnel grew brighter as a small band made their way into the open. There was Elves and Dwarves, Gnomes and Halflings too.. all handing packages and food to those around little camp fires, and cold in the dark.
Phemme knelt on the cold wet stones to present an elderly man with a parcel of food. Morian saw to a young man who had cut his leg. Jethal and Elquinjena passed around blankets as Nikatell and Kade gave hats and boots to the kids.
Shard and Daenee where fending off bats as the girls from the Maiden’s Fancy began to softly sing Frostfell Carols with Lera to brighten spirits all around.
But around the next bend, the festivities where noticed by a set of dark, spiteful eyes.. “Alls of yus. Gets da hells out of heres before I has to arrest yus all and dos da papers works!” because the only Masq hates more than do gooders and frostfell.. is paper work.
Masq pointed his sinister finger and pointy claw at the crowd and reached for his communication crystal to alert the other Knights when all of a sudden.. *BONK* the dark Ratona went down in a heap.. as Morian smacked him over the head with a Frostfell Ham.
The crowd erupted in cheers as we all went back to spreading our Frostfell spirit, food, clothing and good will.. Uzrok and Zerzal dragged Masq off and dumped him in a hole, and he landed next to a troll, who just found a spring of Mistletoe.. the troll looked at Masq and she licked her lips.. but that’s another story.
Allies, friends, strangers.. the needy, children and the old.. we gathered and our celebration went into the night. Not one bit of propaganda, no bad words of Freeport or it’s Overlord. The visitors that night, bringing warmth to a cold night, simply wished every one a Merry Frostfell.
At morning’s light, they were gone.. the Ratonga’s father woke with his children.. their tummies where full, their eyes bright and perhaps even filled with hope.
Merry Frostfell.
