Hail the New Bren'in!
The party had truly been one for the ages. Barrels of wine were consumed, dances were had, blood was spilled...it was a celebration like no other. The joy and merriment, however, quickly disappeared as the morning sun crashed waves of pain across the throng of revelers. The camp, once filled with the sounds of happiness, now sounded like a wounded tent on a battlefield. Indeed, it was quite the party. Before long, those that had kept their wits, or simply minded their intake, were up and about preparing breakfast. Soon the smell of coffee, eggs and bacon wafted through the air. While a pleasant and welcome smell for most, many heaved their disapproval into the closest bush or hedge. Those that were able made their way to the main pavilion.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:00, Sun 16 Apr 2017.