Tales from Estera – The Jaegerphagefest is Announced

The Mayor crossed the small market square of Myddla, a little place of a few hundred souls, nowhere too important and friendly to all who ventured there. The Mayor, shifted the waistbelt around his girth that tried its best to hold the ceremonial robes in place, almost succeeding as he headed towards the cross, where he could see Glandine the town scribe, already leaning there, munching his way through an enormous apple. Other people trudged over the cobbles too, the townsfolk all heading for the centre point of this quaint settlement. One, the old Assayer Gnurrlison, carried a large parchment, fluttering in the early morning breeze. The Mayor stopped beside Glandine, who curtly nodded a morning greeting as he chewed, and Gnurrlison then joined them too.

“Good tidings to all,” the Assayer called out to everyone present, with arms outstretched and a wide smile across his whiskered face. The townsfolk on cue clapped and wished him the same in return.

“Your Worship, it gives me great pleasure, to hand you the town of Myddla’s official invite to the Assayers Guild Jaegerphragefest,” and with a well-practiced flourish the parchment swapped hands as the Mayor read aloud the now familiar words he had recited for many a year gone past.

The large gathering of townsfolk applauded as the parchment was fixed to the cross, and the younger folk crowded forward to view it. Inscribed on the gleaming pale yellow skin, great words and pictures in black ink spelled out what was to be had at this year’s Festival, all under the banner of the hault-Zeyr family’s crest at the top of the page. Every year this noble family, highly thought of and well placed at the head of the Assayers Guild, always sponsored the Festival for the commonfolk. And while the commonfolk played and caroused, the nobility would negotiate and plot and manipulate. It was the way such things were done within Estera’s lands.

Excitement rippled through the crowd of onlookers as those who had planned on attending spoke of preparations for journeys, plans to take food rations, and what they thought they could sell, and what would be there to buy when they got there. And there was much talk about the town champion too – their own ‘Knight’ – the Armoursmith’s son, Rydd, and the girl who would accompany him as the ‘Daughter’, the fair and beautiful Aenella. There were gossips in the town already that said the pair were lovers too.

The Mayor adjusted his robes again and waved his hands at the townspeople, hushing them to be quiet. Glandine took his cue from that, tossed the apple core behind him, opened up his chapbook, and began to scribble the words the Mayor uttered. No doubt it was going to be the same speech as last year, but the crowd cheered every sentence the Mayor spoke, as Glandine scratched away with his pencil.