Chronicles of Nightshade Faire as experienced by Edward Shirebrooke
The Romani family who call themselves Nightshade Faire have long been friends of those who sail the seas. So it was not strange when I, a lonely wandering sailor so recently without a ship, found myself in their company. I was welcomed and accepted in their caravan and later in their family. And now because of what I have witnessed in my travels with them, I have decided to chronicle our experiences. I do this to show the truth of our lives and to place facts for the fictions about who and what we are. We are Nightshade Faire, and this is our truth.
Chronicle I
October 25, AS 38
I stand looking at the still smoldering shell of what was once a wagon. Its wheels had collapsed and spilled its contents into what was an ever widening circle of flame. All around the encampment it is the same, smoldering black husks of what was once our homes. Any of our horses that were not taken had their throats slit and the ground was slick with their blood. The renegade and now captain known as Humphries was to blame for the devastation. His wounded pride had brought him and his crew to our camp while we entertained her excellency Baroness Kisaiya. And while our attention was thus diverted, he struck with steel and flame. We were fortunate that none died. Although the murderous Humphries had tried, ordering his crew to slaughter all. How different he was now from the day we had first meet. He had been a young and eager sailor aboard the Sgein Dhu. And when the ship was in port, he would come to our revels and help with our work should we need it. We gave our hospitality freely, food, drink, and even warm clothes on chilly nights were given to him. But then came the day that he told us of how unsatisfied he was with his part aboard his ship. Feeling that he was going to be parting with his crew anyway, we offered him extravagant clothing and finery and a permanent place among us. As we saw it, there was no use in letting his labor benefit someone else, when it could so easily benefit us. And then the day came when Humphries walked into our camp with his clothing still dripping. He proudly claimed that he had jumped overboard as his ship sailed on. It was that one rash and nieve act that would cost him everything. We should have clapped him in chains that very moment. But I think we were all a bit sorry for him. And when our Reverend Headmistress informed him that we could not allow him to stay, he slipped away into the night. When it was discovered that we had contact with him, our loyalty to out allies was called into question. And after a long chase, he was finally captured. He resisted his capture, and in order to keep him from escape, each attempt brought another lashing. Had he but remained willingly, he would have been undamaged and we would have acted on his behalf during his trial. But the lad's eyes were wild with madness, it was as if a demon possessed him, and so we were forced to take drastic measure. We were not without pity though, we gave to him our most powerful symbol of fortune and the symbol for which we are known. A purple wheel it was, inscribed upon his hairless chest, to protect his very life. And so it was that when he was given his sentence of death by his former captain the power of our purple wheel acted. The High Drax sighed and some say that in that sigh they heard the words 'Nightshade Faire', though he did not speak it. He looked to young Humphries and gave him a way to preserve his life. And so it was, the symbols power, now used for its purpose, then faded and disappeared before everyones eyes.
And now alas, Humphries has his ship and his crew. He has some of the best men in the kingdom who have ever touched a hand to a rapier. And yet his heart still lusts for vengance upon the very souls that saved his pitiful life. I turn and look at my brothers and sisters, at my lovely wife who looks for things of value in the rubble. None of us has a tear in our eyes, for though we have lost everything, we are a proud family. We will survive, somehow we will live. My gaze wanders out to the sea. There a ship is under full sail, yet the anchor is down and dragging the ocean floor. There is a nasty lean to starboard and I can see half a dozen of the crew tossing belaying pins in some sort of game. And as my thoughts began to turn to those of revenge, I smile, because it looks like I won't have to bother.
