Hedge Picnic

[Ingrid]

The seasons turn and winter is coming. Heat is followed by rain and wind and damp airs.

Ingrid's instruction was clear: come to the Tavern; she would have her man waiting for Abraham Norton and the interview would go from there.

The Tavern was easy enough to find. Locate the little wishing-well ornament and clamber down through the Hedge Gate at its bottom. Take a deep breath as one's sense of gravity and place lurch and twist. And step out into the pleasant Tavern with its slightly curved walls and beautifully austere wooden panelling. Perfume and alcohol permeate the air. A fire crackles on a hearth. A gust of wind lightly scratches at the rounded windows.

A bearded hipster fellow is waiting, using his time to check through the bottles and glasses behind the bar. This man is professionally courteous and completely at ease with Abraham Norton 's Fairest seeming. If required, he'll offer a little small talk before he leads the Emerald Courtier out through the Tavern's other Door into the Hedge (this is Angus we are talking about...)

...And out into a rough glade, hemmed in by a thick wall of trees and topiary. The illusion of the Tavern Hollow persisted here: the Spring Hollow continued to appear as a dear little fairy tavern, its sloping roof thick with vegetation, chimney puffing gently into what passed as the Hedge's sky.
Three paths exited the glade, unless the Lost wished to carve their own through the ranks of scraggy fern and close packed trees. Three paths, of which two might easily have been the two halves a much larger byway, all rutted and pooled with mud and standing water.

The narrowest path wriggled and writhed away to their left as it bounded over boulders and the stumps of trees. Left it went, and down, sinking behind a stand of palm-like growths and cloaked by a slow moving miasma of damp air.

The other path (or two) only glanced the glade but such was its muddy size that it appeared, on first glance, that the glade was a stopping point on a larger trod. A careful reconnoitre of the ground would quickly disabuse Abraham of that notion. The path (for path it was, not big enough yet or indeed stable enough to be a Trod) disappeared before and behind the Lost. In either direction, the rutted path curved gently away until it was lost in the shivering foliage of the Hedge.
Ingrid is having a picnic.

She is seated on a large blanket (red and white squares seem to gleam among the rampant vegetation). To one side is a big wicker hamper that she has already opened, and the little Darkling is laying out plates and dishes. There is wine, lemonade, ginger beer, a quality ham, sausages, sandwiches, spreads and dips. Ingrid has certainly gone over the top for a meal for two.

Ingrid looks up and smiles coyly, her mantle shivering in recognition and sending out an intoxicating plum aroma.

Over to you Woland Abraham Norton

[Ingrid]

"Hello..."

Ingrid begins, then coughs slightly.

"Ingrid. Vernal Sovereign and Director of the Freehold. Please sit and join me, sir knight. We can speak of things."

The Darkling resisted the urge to pat the blanket and ultimately failed. In an attempt to cover this action, she turned swiftly to the drinks.

"What would you like?"

She poured, let a silence grow in case the stranger wished to fill it of his own accord. Then: -

"Knight and storyteller? Hmmm. There is definitely a place for that in this Freehold. Are these the services you offer or is there something else tucked up your sleeve?"

She was smiling shyly now. Then curiosity overwhelmed her.

"A knight and a storyteller. Are you Entitled, sir knight?"

[Ingrid]

A delicate breeze was wafting an aroma of plum about them. Two mantles at play. A fruity essence of flowers only served to undergird her own plum effusions. Ingrid poured lemonade for them both.

"As you wish, Abe," she replied smoothly.

"Not Entitled, you say? Well... Its not like we don't need storytellers and swordsmen both. Things are fine and quiet right now. But looks can be very deceptive. Especially around here. This here is a new young Freehold. I mean, it's built on the back of what went before but that was swept away in an epic confrontation with one of the... ah... gentle folk. We really lost the Hedge after all that. And the neighbouring Freehold is, well, in trouble. And we're not sure how that's going to affect us yet."

After suitably whetting the Emerald Courtiers desire for more, Ingrid changed the subject.

"I'm Director of this Freehold. Like I said, this Freehold succeeds where another ... um ... died. There was a fear we would not have enough to represent the full Seasonal Courts and in order to mitigate against that some overarching positions were created: Director, Notary, Groundskeeper. Director's an overall manager - if we have no Court for a Season, I step in to enact its rites where necessary. I also look out for the Freehold as a whole, since the Courts have their own agenda's. Theres a Notary to keep track of Oaths and Pledges. And there would be a Groundskeeper to maintain security, but thats currently empty and no ones put up their hand for it. Seems a bit of a waste unless we find ourselves in a real emergency."

And finally, there are desires of her own.

"You said you had been favoured by the gifts of Spring?"

[Ingrid]

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. Then her glass in a formal salute.

"Oh? So you practice the Arts then. So do I. I have studied the Fleeting and the Eternal ways both. Why would I not? Deepens one connection to the Court, I say."

She drank. Ate.

"No. I don't think the dragon will be back. Story is it was slain. Well, poisoned. So they say. It was a long drawn out conflict, before my time here. Few remember it well. The old Freehold is said to have survived but was ground down to almost nothing. Survival is victory, I guess."

"The Freehold uses the amusement park as a face. Or it did in the beginning. The park is true enough but for us its a front. For now."

Ingrid was not going to elaborate how the Freehold was evolving gently away from its roots.

"As for the Hedge? The old Freehold had some trods at its command. We lost access to them. There were some Gates in some tunnels under the amusement park - but we sealed them as it was decided the tunnels were too much of a danger. So now, the only Gate we got is this one..."

She pointed back to the Tavern.

She shakes her head sadly. "The neighbouring Freehold is the Bay. It was one huge Freehold but its collapsing into civil war and strife. I am trying to keep us out of it. We'll be smashed. Refugees pass by here and I have no idea if anything is following them from the Bay. We've already had one scare from that direction as it is."

[Ingrid]

Ingrid had been about to partake of a dip. She leaned in, conspiratorially, with her mantle surrounding them in a cloud of plum scent.

"The Autumn Queen of the Bay, Anne by name, was using the gentle folk as much as twisting whatever pledges and oaths she had at her command for her own benefit. Apparently this was all exposed - by the likes or Circe, summer's queen! No less! Circe resides here now having been driven from the Bay with her motley. The motley passed us by but she remained. Anyhow, this Anne, being revealed, plunged the Bay into civil strife - or her Court did. And this Anne turned her attentions on us here, no doubt hoping to cause trouble for our Crimson Queen. She came at us through dreams - I had the misfortune to fall prey to her devices, as did Penance of Summer and the... the... Autumn Courtier called Lucifer who has since left. It was a potent dream, a nightmare, a prison. We barely escaped with our sanity. Since then, nothing. But one can never tell, right?"

Ingrid withdrew, sighing.

"We have very few safe havens. Individuals have hollows. Spring has the Tavern. There are plans to build a Freehold hollow but that is a joint effort and I do not know for certain what materials have been put aside for it yet. There is Funderland, Garden Grounds (owned by an Emerald Courtier) and The Blue Note (owned by Winter's Queen and our Notary). And that is it."

Now Ingrid did eat a little.

"I act as Vernal Sovereign during Spring. Circe is the Sovereign of the Crimson Court. If you want the Ash, seek out Rhodes for his is their Sovereign. And Sasha is the Onyx Queen. Most of the others flitter through the theme park or one of those other two establishments. I've put up some... signs... if you know your graffiti markings... to help lead the way. They haven't been kept up to date because of some security concerns, so they may or may not work."

She shrugged.

"Our Court has been growing in strength recently. We vie for dominance with the Onyx in that regard. You might just tip the balance. But its not a competition. And it will be the Season of Sorrows soon enough. Sasha always makes a strong claim for being the social heart of the Freehold."