The summer was fast approaching. Those of the court could feel the power coming to fruition. They could feel the tendrils of heat and light that was on the horizon. And so, as was proper, a meeting was called. The Summer King had called for a meeting of his court. His Hollow sadly was not ready, but The Forge is. So, as a favor to his brother Spartan, the King called the court to meet at Spartan’s new acquisition. Spartan, the silent defender of summer had acquired this place for the Summer Court and for other reasons he had kept private. But the hoplite is a quiet man, unless he is killing something. So on this, the Second Sunday in May, the Court of Summer would meet and discuss the coming of their time. They would drink, listen to music, laugh, sing, fight and even bleed. All were the ways of the Iron Spear.
And then there is the Sentry of Summer. Standing above it all, looking down on The Forge from the Mezzanine. In one hand was a beer, and he looked down over what he had made. Spartan wasn’t nervous, he didn’t get nervous. His Mantle was calm, as was his body language; something had happened recently that changed the man’s demeanor. He was not the depressed shell that was at the Spring Festival. He was back to his old self, and maybe even more.
Spartan left the front door unlocked, not worried about the wrong people walking in. From the outside The Forge does just look like a warehouse. On the inside, it was something far different. The bars were stocked; the speakers were warm and the floor blood free, at least, so far.
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