PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

Dolores smiles a little wider—but the smile falls off slightly as she casts a look around the living room. Sighing, she gestures to the space full of people and says:


"You get used to this kind of thing as you get older. Or, at least, you get familiar with it. It's never easy, no matter how many people you know die. But at least in Eliot's case, I know for a fact that he didn't want any memorial of his to be a morbid affair. I worked under him at the Town Hall at one point, long in the distant past, and he was a strong believer in the idea that life goes on. Even after…well, anyway, I feel much the same way. Everything doesn't need to stop for you to feel grief. But, I suppose it's different for everybody. I just know I wouldn't want anybody to feel like they can't enjoy themselves until some weeks or months or years have passed after I go."


Her expression is thoughtful as she takes in the gathered people. You weren't quite expecting to have this sort of conversation just now—but as you look about you for a moment as well, you start to think about Dolores's words as well. After a little silence, you say:


3