<aside> 📖 The abandoned temple ruins are trapped with fine, lavender and indigo gauzy fabric, fairy lights hang under ancient keystones, and it looks like the duke even shelled out for a druid because all of the trees around the pavilion are in bloom. A small band is tuning up just out of sight, preparing for the main ceremony. Duke Bulisstan has hired the Adventurer’s Guild out for a few ushers to guard her niece at her wedding. Her niece and her groom are from the Feywild, in town for the ceremony, and while the in-laws have promised to be on their best behavior, one doesn’t need to be an expert in the fey to know that guests might not get the memo.
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<aside> 📖 As you all step farther into the pavilion, you see a tall half-orc woman with a severe ponytail shoving her way towards you, a clipboard in her hand (Targ, the wedding planner). She wears a no-nonsense tunic with tall, Hessian boots, and looks absolutely relieved to see you. “Are you the crew hired by Bulisstan? Fantastic. Great. Listen. Could you all grab Aunt Iggy? She’s drunk at the bar already.” And just beyond the half-orc you see an old woman that’s just a half-size too large to be humanoid with milky white eyes and a skirt that seems to be stitched of several scavenged quilts, a blackened tattoo of arcane marks over one eye.
”Oh also?” Targ says, “Somebody’s spiked the punch, and the wedding artist fell asleep in the hedges, so, unless any of you are good at painting I need you to find a new artist for the wedding portraits.”
”And once you’re done with that, I’ve heard a rumor that one of the groomsmen is going to propose to his girlfriend after the ceremony, so I need you all to shut that down. I don’t care how.”
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