<html><head></head><body><div class="yahoo-style-wrap" style="font-family:arial;font-size:16px;"><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false">Here is my part! Sorry for the delay</div><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false"><div> The first warning came in a message from Castle Grenier – the outpost at the southernmost part of the valley. “Large riding party headed north. Will be at our position shortly.” Another message did come shortly. “Not raiders. Says they were invited to Misha’s wedding. Total count 600 people.” It took a full day for the small army to reach Metamor. First thru the gates into the town was a half dozen riders on horseback. Horse and riders were both decked out in bright and elaborately colors costumes. The sounds of music filled the air with a lively beat as a score of ladies in fanciful costumes danced thru the gates bouncing and twirling with great skill. After them came thirty men and women riding on horses. In the lead was a woman standing on the saddle rather than sitting in it. The woman did a back flip off the horse; flying high into the air. She summersaulted several times before landing safely on the horse behind where she had started. The crowded roared with delight. Cheering and clapping. They passed and a half dozen women came. Each held a basket from which they tossed flower petals. The street was doon covered in a bright multicolored spray of color. Next came a full forty-piece marching band. Their instruments gleamed brightly in the sunlight as they played a lively tune. “What?” Someone asked. “No elephant?” “No,” Someone else responded. “Susy would never fit through the gates. Next came a tall man dressed in a long flowing robe dyed bright Green and blue. He was riding a tall, black colored stallion. “My Lord!” He said bowed without leaving the saddle. “I wish to announce the arrival of Brian Brightleaf. Lord of Harflower, Hero of Cralwell, Lord Mayor of Sygle Woods, Master of the Dawn Star. Who comes to celebrate to wedding of his brother Misha!” He pointed back to the gate. A hush fell, and in its space a low sound like the humming of a hive of bees could be heard. The sound grew slightly louder and changed, becoming like angelic singing in an unknown language. Then a large palanquin came through the gate. The base color was red, but there was a mystic-looking gold pattern all over it. Around it there was a sparkling, mystical aura anyone could see, and with good reason: nothing held it aloft! It seemed to move itself though the air, its base about head-high off the ground. Only magic could have moved it forward. Indeed, while most such palanquins were small affairs, usually only needing two to four porters, this one would have taken eight at minimum! <div style="margin-bottom:0in;line-height:normal"> There were windows, covered in gold curtains with red patterns, as if inverted from the palanquin. The song had been slowly increasing in volume and intensity, as if leading up to a momentous event, even as the palanquin halted and settled on the ground. The door opened and a silvery light radiated from within. A figure stepped into that light and then out the door: a man in a blue tunic with the Brightleaf crest heart-high. His pants were of a light green material that looked like shirt. Both tunic and shirt had decorated edging of silver and gold threads. He looked out at the crowd with an expression of paternalistic admiration, as if they were children he loved.</div></div><div style="margin-bottom:0in;line-height:normal" dir="ltr" data-setdir="false"> He turned and looked at Misha and smiled. He hustled over to Misha and hugged him. “Congratulation baby brother!” <div style="margin-bottom:0in;line-height:normal"> </div></div> </div></div></body></html>