Tis the day before The Great Green Feast of Paddydom.
All are scurrying to and fro to get ready for tomorrow.
The snow has finally stopped and all is white, the wind blows on occasion to remind us that it is still winter. Spring is only days away by the celestial calendar.

Melchior is on his way back to Castle Catalano, hoping to find his blond haired wench.
The ale casks are being loaded, the mead is being prepared, and something called soder bread is being delivered by the cartload.

The Great Wells are being pumped; the Ice Caverns are being inspected, for all must be perfect for the Feast of Paddydom.

The Great Gumbas favorite part of the Feast are the Pipes, when they start playing, a part of the Gumbas heritage is kindled, all be it a small part. He remembers the pipes playing as he led men into battle, the piper atop a hill, playing and playing, spurring on the men to fight and conquer.
There is something about the pipes that stirs a warriors soul, something unexplainable, something magical.

Then there is the warrior funeral, a great fire, atop which sits a warriors wrapped body.
A mighty scaffold of wood and a blazing fire.
On a hill, far away stands a piper, playing, to help send the warrior to the afterlife.
Not a soul left unstirred.

A celebration of spring, a celebration of life, a celebration of friends, The Great Green Feast of Paddydom.

To all who shall be in attendance?
There are good ships, and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea.
But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be.

So Sayeth the Great White Sage of the Great Northron Region