Fey day, in its own way, is a time for celebration.
It has its traditions, little quirks, a feywild congregation.
But traditions as with all things, have to start some place;
a child's rhyme, lost to time, leaving not a trace.
The fey, I fear, are simple things just like a worm in Mud;
the origins of all Fey Days begin and end with blood.
Screaming into the void
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Funding at the Inn
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The mysterious echo
This week, we're promoting Tabletop Potluck https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/tabletop-potluck/id1312897506?mt=2
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