Post by Deleted on May 3, 2016 11:54:00 GMT -5
The shipment of ales from Vulcanis had not yet arrived, but reports told him that it was en-route. They might not arrive quite on time, but he hoped they would not arrive so late. He had come into the plans late into the game, where most other arrangements were already made, and part of that had been indecision. In his brother’s stead, Liam hoped to make decisions that Ruadhan would have made, or at least approved of, to stay faithful to how Ruadhan wanted their clan to be represented. While he doubted he could do wrong per se, he double-checked his decisions nonetheless.
A large tent had been procured, the city seemed to have stocked such things for exactly the occasion as this. The capital must host many festivals and expects the influx of visitors would come with peculiar requirements for materials. It was simply wasteful for the many nobles to haul all of their items, especially if they had the coin to pay a temporary replacement. Liam was hoping that, with this tent, they could advertise their brew, perhaps even enough to broke some deals going forward, and if not at least get the brand communicated. They did very well in Vulcanis, but broadening the horizons was not a horrible idea.
There were many other tents being erected, many other business-people overlooking the finalities of their own set-ups. He wondered what the capital had in mind, the crown, as far as entertainment and specific events for the Harvest Festival. He expected feasts to come, at least, and perhaps manners of prayer for the various Gods, in thanks for the gift of a good earth, the harvest of the festival’s name. He wondered if they would try to celebrate the bulk of it outdoors, or if the castle would play host to the many, many people in attendance.
Choosing to take a break from organizing - see decorating - the tent, he moved into the centre of what seemed to be now a courtyard of vendors, and sat for rest at a table. It was shaded by a nearby tree which he wagered was intentionally done. He could imagine that when the festival was in full swing, a variety of barmaids would be heading through the rows of tables to bring drinks, from whatever service was providing it, or even perhaps from vendors of choice - like his own set up. He could almost see the crowds of people, even if he was three days early. It was good to have something to do, some use, for the nobleman was starting to feel rather lazy.
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