Festival of Lights

The Lights Festival is a small event where elves prepare and light paper lanterns that drift along the river. These can range from prayers, poems, wishes, remembrance etc. Someone however has sabotaged the paper needed to create the lanterns and the organizers need more. Can you help secure more paper and help make the lanterns?

Rewards:
5,000 Gold and the gratitude of the celebrating elves.

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The city was more beautiful than the tales could say. Leena left her rented room in the midmorning and stared up at the crystal spires, as enchanted as she’d been at first sight. To think, if Bastien hadn’t been such a bastard, she might never have run away. Have never seen this place.

That would be a crime in itself.

She and Rahse had only recently made it to the ancient elven city. The magic that saturated the air and everything else was more than a little bit frightening, but the people were worth it. Leena had never been in a place where everyone looked like her before. The Frost’s keep had been too small for an alienage.

And it was new, despite being ancient. Everyone that was here had come from somewhere else, they knew the pain of the road, they had borne the same aspirations in their hearts. Of course Leena had volunteered to help with the festival. To do otherwise would be to reject the hospitality she had been shown.

But where to find enough paper for the lanterns? She spent a portion of the morning digging through public stores with little luck, persisting until she was covered in dust and light headed from sneezing. Leena shuffled back outside and sat down on a bench in the sun to consider her options.

The market? That seemed somehow too obvious. If someone wanted to sabotage the festival, perhaps the merchants had already been bought out. She sneezed again and cursed under her breath.

Bajie leaned against the market stall, watching the frantic buzz of preparations for the Festival of Lights. Lanterns half-constructed, strings of lights tangled in a mess, and artists scrambling for any scrap of paper they could find. The usual joy of the festival was dulled by the unmistakable sense of panic in the air. Word on the street was that all the good paper for the lanterns had gone missing, stolen right out from under everyone’s noses. But Bajie, well, he had a hunch.

He spotted someone nearby—a person who looked equally knee-deep in the festival's troubles. Bajie straightened up, adjusted his coat, and swaggered over with his signature grin.

Working on the festival, are ya? Good to see someone’s still got some fight left, he said, his voice carrying a mix of mischief and genuine concern. Name’s Bajie. And if you’ve heard the news, then you know we’ve got ourselves a bit of a paper crisis.

Bajie paused, watching for a reaction, then leaned in conspiratorially.

But here’s the thing—I might have an idea. See, I know a guy. A fixer of sorts, lives down in Antiva City. The kind of bloke who finds things…or gets you what you need if you’re willing to bend a few rules. Bajie chuckled, the sound low and almost infectious.

But there’s a catch, he continued, a glint of adventure sparking in his eyes. This isn’t a solo kind of job. Takes two to tango, as they say, especially when Antiva’s involved. It’s a quick trip, promise. We pop in, have a chat, get the goods, and we’re back in time to save the festival. So, what do you say? You up for a little side quest with yours truly?

Bajie raised an eyebrow, waiting. This wasn’t just about the festival—this was about adventure, about bending fate just a little, and maybe, just maybe, being the heroes of the day. His smile widened, a silent dare hanging in the air.

Come on, he said, nudging playfully. What’s life without a little risk, eh?

@Leena Craynore