> A city is having its Founder's Day. The day when a party of adventurers, humans, hellkin, and a few other races, came together to found their own town. And now, it was a large, beautiful city. A person, seeing Wraithvine and friends, comes up to them and, politely but earnestly, asks them to be their dance partner in the dance competition to be held that evening. -- Anon Guest
Much can be achieved without hate as a hurdle. Proof of such is the shining city of Vingate. One of the four great cities of Alfarell. Storytellers insist that it was founded by a band of Adventurers who were all outcast by their own societies, but the histories say it was at least four different bands who did it.
They made a place with _everyone_ in mind. From the smallfolk to the tallfolk, though the Giants have a separate quarter where they can be comfortable. Nobody capable of understanding law is considered Unwelcome. As such, it has been considered a city one good sneeze away from complete anarchy for thousands of years.
Today is its Founders Festival, which is generally a good excuse for everyone to make merry. The bunting stretched across every street, the games were plentiful, and there was food of all kinds available everywhere. Music filled the air, alongside the scents of cooking in progress.
Here, Hellkin danced with Hallobloods. Gobelliin bantered with Kobolds. Elves and young Trolls[1] played on the same bandstands. No enemies. No prejudice. No spite.
And one immortal Wizard coming back some significant years after ze had helped with the city's planning. Back when it all began, it was wood huts and deliberately wide streets, even though they were packed dirt. Centuries later, those streets were cobbled and the buildings beautiful.
There were statues, here and there, of the various founders. Each depiction purposely no larger than they had been in life. Even the Gnomes and the Harukh.
It had done very well.
"Pardon, please?" the speaker was a small, slight Hellkin, largely peach-coloured in skin and hair. "I've been looking for a dance partner? For the contest tonight? Uhm. You're about the right height for me and -er- I should ask. Can you dance, and would you... with me?"
She had no idea who ze was, which was generally refreshing in a large settlement like this. "I've been known to take a turn or two," said Wraithvine. "Is it really so hard to find a dance partner?"
"It is when I'm this short," she replied. "The smallfolk are too small and the tallfolk are too tall but you, thank the gods, are just about the right size." She clapped. "Now. _The_ most important question - do you know the Maitzelvokk?"
That was one ze hadn't heard of, yet. "I'll have to let you lead."
"I'll do more than that, I'll teach you," she said. "We have more than a handful of hours before the contest begins. Shall we dance?"
It was always wonderful to learn something new.
[1] Because Trolls grow at a constant rate, older Trolls are considered Giants.
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