Arthur stood there, looking out the window of the wizard's house/shop, staring into the growing darkness.  He had sent a letter approximately three hours ago to Lancelot, in a manner that assured that it would not be intercepted, asking him to meet Arthur here.  As he looked into the night, Arthur was glad he had this time to think.

He had used the intervening time to steel himself about the comments about Guinevere and Mordred that Lancelot was sure to make.  Being in the same castle, he was sure to have seen Guinevere, and may have even had to speak to her once or twice.  And since the plan was to insinuate himself as a guard in high rank, Arthur was sure that Lancelot had to speak to Mordred in person.  He kept his mind calm and felt prepared to speak to Lancelot rationally.  Well, more rationally than he did the last time, in any event.

Night crept slowly into the castle, never fully reaching its depths until a good few hours after sundown. Mordred retired early, while Morgan locked herself away in her wing of the castle and refused visitors until morning. Guinevere knew this as she watched the sun set, biding her time until she might sneak down to the kitchens and find something, anything, to ease the hungry ache in her stomach. For days, she had slept comfortably in an empty bedroom in the wing she had taken to, but there was no food and no water, and she'd be damned to admit that she could not be strong enough for self-imposed isolation.

But the days had grown longer, the nights restless, and finally Guinevere had resolved to nourish herself in the kitchens in the dead of night, long after Morgan and Mordred had retired. It was surely near midnight when the darkness was finally thick enough to warrant unbolting the doors to the wing and slipping into the shadowy corridors beyond, and Guinevere had a difficult time find her way down to the grand entrance hall of the castle, moonlight crisscrossing the floor from the small windows up above.

Her legs were shaking as she made her way across the hall towards the dark stairwell leading to the kitchens, but as she descended into the darkness, reaching the door into her destination, she found it bolted. Guinevere tried the handle but it would not budge. She tried valiantly for what seemed like hours but was likely only minutes, her unfed body collapsing from exhaustion even after such minor exercise. In a few moments, she was back on her feet, trying the door, but this time, she fell just as she had before, now a sobbing heap on the cold stone floor.

I'm in...he doesn't trust me, and he probably has someone watching me, but I'm in...

Lancelot stood on one of the lower ramparts of the palace, directly overlooking the gates and the main courtyard. He had presented himself at the castle earlier that morning, and had been admitted into the throne room.  As per the plan, he pretended not to know Mordred's role in his own disgrace, or anything of Arthur. He had offered his services as head of security for the upcoming wedding.  

Mordred had seemed suspicious, and had eyed Lancelot coldly.  "Why exactly should I put you in charge of my safety?" 

He had said "you" like it was distasteful, and his expression was what one might use when examining some new form of insect life. 

"I have had no challenges to my rule, and yet days before my wedding, the Mightiest Knight in the world arrives at my door offering to ensure my safety."

Mordred's tone when he called Lancelot the "Mightyest Knight" had carried a tone of doubt, just enough to be noticeable, but not enough to justifiably claim provocation. Lancelot kept his face neutral, but inside he struggled to keep control.

One court functionary had the ill-conceived thought to laugh at the implication in Mordred's statement. The cold stares of both Mordred and Lancelot sent him fleeing from the room.

In the end, Mordred had hired him, almost dismissively, as if hiring Lancelot might make him go away and leave Mordred in peace.  As he bowed his way out of the room, he noticed Mordred speaking with one of his guards, but Mordred's eyes never left Lancelot.  

He knows I'm up to no good.  If he's heard that Arthur is here, he probably plans to use me as a distraction to keep Arthur busy while the wedding happens.

Lancelot had smiled at the thought. Arthur would be kept busy, all right...busy doing very painful things to Mordred.

He had left word for Arthur with the wizard, saying that he would try to sneak out tonight to speak with him. Then he gathered his belongings and returned to the castle.  He stood now surveying the main approaches to the keep, planning out troop movements that would seem logical but would leave gaping holes for Arthur's forces to exploit.  

Well, that and thinking up all sorts of things to do to Mordred that leave the bastard in immense pain but still alive.

In the yard below, servants and guards hustled about, occasionally looking up at the strange new knight who stood on the battlements smiling.

Guinevere was the last to hear the news. It did not shock her that Morgan and Mordred had conveniently forgotten to inform her that her wedding would be in a week's time, but that did not make the dealt blow any easier to bear. The look on Mordred's face when she called upon him, having been congratulated on her upcoming wedding by a page who had arrived at the castle, had made her ill, both from its iciness, and from the way that, not for the first time, she saw a bit of his father's face. He had tried to touch her arm, but she had pulled away before he could take greater advantage of her distress. She ran from his chamber, locking herself in the farthest, empty wing of the castle.

It was now three days later, and Guinevere was still in her self-imposed isolation. She had heard, from listening at the bolted door, that Morgan was stemming her nephew's irritation with his bride having locked herself away, telling the man to give Guinevere time. But time was what she dreaded. It was only a matter of days before the wedding, and no amount of solitude and pride would be able to put off the inevitable. Her resistance was too little too late, and neither Mordred nor his witch aunt would wait any longer now that an official date had been set. Guinevere felt more their pawn than ever.

The small thought had still not left her mind that there was a chance, a glimmer of possibility, that Arthur was still out there, still trying to find and save her. Even the hatred that Guinevere knew that Arthur harbored for her would pale in comparison to the utter shame of being Mordred's bride. And yet, perhaps it was better this way. Arthur would want the both of them dead - herself and Mordred - and was death really a better option than being wed to such a snake? Guinevere had given up hope long ago of having a good, peaceful life, especially now that she was surely in this place for eternity. She had even, if only recently, acknowledged that Galahad was not coming back for her, that he was either dead or against her; that realization did not even hurt, really, for it was only another in a long string of lies she had believed.

But if Arthur was coming for her...and if he could forgive her...if he could love her again as she did him...

Guinevere fell against the wall, the tears coming swiftly, in torrents down her face, and collapsed down to the floor. She could not hope, not if it would reduce her to this. He wasn't coming for her, neither to kill her nor to save her...he wasn't coming at all. He never had been. Another lie.

Arthur walked down the streets of Camlann, making his way toward his makeshift home - The Wizard Pendragon's Shop. The time seemed right to move, and yet, there was no news of the impending wedding. Arthur decided to stop at the shop to see if there was any word about that. There was so much to do, and he felt he had done all that could be done. But not quite. There was something missing. Something more to do.

With a sigh, Arthur knocked on, and then opened the door to the shop. As he went to unfasten his cloak, he spoke quietly.

"Wizard Howl? Are you at home? There is something I wanted to speak about."

The following ads are suddenly being seen everywhere once more, as if the effort to find these cinimals has suddenly been redoubled.

( With increasing frequency )

What looks like a small boy is posting these signs all throughout Estervale. There are some scattered throughout varying areas and kingdoms as well, especially Camlann. This is the second such wave of these posts.

( NOW IS A PERFECT TIME TO PANIC! )

It starts off around Estervale, and slowly starts spreading around all of Pentamerone:

( NOW IS A PERFECT TIME TO PANIC! )

[OOC: She con be on the edge of Lake Raienia, Camlann or Ozland, whichever's more convenient!]

Titania rarely ventured forth from her bower in the winter, less so now that the was cold winter whether to speak of. She hadn't heard from her sister, but Mabb's presence still permeated the wood enough that its unnatural warmth during the winter had been replaced by icy chills and even snows. It irked Titania some, but not enough to keep her at bay when she felt the need to leave.

So far this winter she hadn't left her bower so far. Perhaps the fact that she had sudden and unexpected company was part of the reason.

But something was stirring in the woods, with the unseelie. There was some kind of gathering, organizing. At first she thought it must have been due to Arthur's war. But then she wondered if some unseelie had finally begun to pick up the pieces Oberon had left behind. Maybe someone wanted to lead them. Curiosity sent her through the woods away from her bower, wrapped in a warm cloak, seeking what knowledge she could find.

Who: Mabb and Carabosse (disguised as Gretel).
When: Backdated a few weeks.
Where: Carabosse's castle in Estervale.
What: Mabb goes hunting for Carabosse but doesn't find the prey she's looking for.


Mabb had more time in the caves beneath the Blasted Lands than she could recall. It could have been weeks or months. Maybe even years. It was all the same to her, a mere blink in time in the grand scheme of things.

She'd parted ways with her unexpected companion, Morozko, some time ago, and while she did hope to run into him again in the future, she didn't have the capacity to miss him in anything more than the vaguest sense.

( Besides, she had something else to draw her focus at the moment. )

True to his word, as soon as Hunter finished speaking with Sophie, he put back on his seven league boots and took the few steps necessary to return to Mehrdadstan. He'd been gone long enough to meet a few people and acquire a gift for Scheherazade.

Armed with the purple box, he strode into the palace, seven league boots careful place in his pocket again. He knew to search for Scheherazade in her garden, and went for it immediately, ignoring the guards and advisors who still seemed to dislike him. He didn't care; they didn't matter. His queen did. He stepped silently into the palace gardens, smiling at her form seated near the jasmine. He smiled. "Sometimes I think I go away just to have to experience of coming home to you," he offered by way of salutation.

Tink was a boy. She was a boy. Broad shoulders, smooth chest, no boobs, and something between her legs she was by no means accustomed to. At least she was a pretty boy. She was the mirror image of Hansel, thanks to some crazy cookie from Ozland, she's tried to swipe a few more to see if they changed her back, but all she did was shrink and grow in size again. Fully human sized again, she trudged off into the Sleeping Woods, searching for Robin. She still had to report to him, and she had plenty to say.

Aside from the fact that she was a boy. It was a fact not exactly reflected in the way she dressed though. She was still decked out head to toe in pink, in an outfit that probably would have made Hansel less that thrilled to see "himself" in. Selfish as she was, Tink didn't care about Hansel's reputation. She had to talk to Robin. And then find out about that Carabosse witch and what had gone wrong.

For now though, finding Robin was her priority.

Tink's impromptu conversation with the king starting the war had taken longer than she expected. But no matter. She had plenty of information to tell Robin now, when she found him. But first, a stop in Ozland. She needed some more of the weird food that made her change sizes. It was getting to be fortuitous having the ability to change sizes.

She had no intention of paying for it however, and had yet to do so. All she needed was to find something - a mushroom, a pastry, a cake, or cookie. Her attention was drawn by an orange cat in boots walking like a person away from a plate of cookies. No one seemed to be watching the cookies at all, and so wouldn't notice if Tink swooped in.

She did so, waiting to make certain no one was watching before she filched a cookie. It was larger than her head, but she carried it with ease up and away from the rest of them. She could eat the one, and then be able to carry the others more easily when she was larger.

She didn't care to hide when she ate them - people in this town seemed used to others growing larger or smaller. She settled by a tree, crossing her booted feet at the ankles, looking at the little cookie before she took several large bites, equaling one normal sized bite from a human-sized person.

[backdated to sometime during the fall because Titania's hiding from oncoming winter and Cernunnos is pretty much in his prime]

Autumn was heavy in the Sleeping Woods, and the cool was creeping in. For the second year in a row, there was a cold snap to the air that hadn't been there prior to Mabb's arrival in the world. Titania felt sure that this shift was permanent, a stronger balance between the warmth of the summers and the cold winters that should have existed in the woods to begin with. When Oberon was king, was still present and ruling his fey, there was still no true winter in the warmth of the woods. Titania took it as a sign that the woods were more suited to spring and summer than fall and winter.

Or maybe it was a sign that Oberon's power wasn't as well accepted in these woods as it had been in their former home. Either way, true winter had only existed since Mabb had come. the balance between herself and her sister had been reestablished.

Titania wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

To that end, she had returned to her bower, the only place in the woods that stayed warm, even throughout the winter. Dressed in dark clothing, she stepped inside, doffing the dress she wore to don a rather see-through dressing gown in the same pattern. She wasn't expecting company, not even Peaseblossom, as she moved through her bower.

Who:Gretel and Hansel
When: backdated a few days
Where: Estervale
What: Gretel is fed up with Smee's crew, she hops ship and goes to the one place she knows

Gretel had been in Smee's crew for a few months and it was not everything she had wanted. There had been a handsome pirate on the crew for some time but in a terrible accident he was killed and therefore Gretel had nothing left to do on the ship. Her menial tasks of cleaning the decks, helping navigate, and sharpening swords were a little less fun when there was no one there to flirt with. She had grown used to the lifestyle and liked it quite a lot but Smee and his crew were bent on avenging some old grudge that she wasn't a part of.

( One night while the crew was sleeping... )

The night had begun to fall on London. Stories were being told to children around the world and within the stone house at the end of  the row. A chilly air blew in from an open window. Wendy in her old form, now having watched her own grown up daughter put her children to bed, smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs to the attic. Her small candle flickered, making the shadows dance on the wall as she entered the room. Tears welded up in her eyes as her own shadow flickered about, teasing her about growing up.

The stars twinkled shining their light down into the room, the moon herself flooding a small area with silver beams. The pool of light hit only up a wooden chest carved with scenes of pirate ships and faeries and children sleeping in trees. A precious item was hidden within it. One Wendy had put away as a child for when she had grown up. She accepted that she had to grow up, but now she was old, now her stories had been passed on to the next generations. Opening the chest, the inside glowed gold, forcing the moons silver away. There were only a few nicnacks within it. A teddy bear, John's silly Sunday hat, an acorn botton necklace, and a small bag. Within the bag was the precious faery dust that Wendy had kept all this time. Smiling to herself sheput the necklace on and threw it up in the air around her and as it rain down upon her, she felt it lift her spirit high into the heavens. She was flying again.

Suddenly she was flying through the clouds above strange lands. This was not what she remembered Neverland looking like. One area had a large city sprawling on for miles. Then there were trees, a beautiful sea of forest sprawling out before her. It was magnificent. Looking at her hands, Wendy realized that she was no longer old. Her skin was soft and smooth. Though not as young as she had been in Neverland, she was a young woman again. When had she not been? The memories of her life since right before she got married slowly started to fade, leaving only the memories of Peter Pan and her siblings, the Lost Boys and where they may be now.

"That will be the perfect place to land," she said to herself. This time she would land properly, not being shot down and falling out of the clouds. She skimmed the tops of the trees, letting her hand feel the leaves that tried so hard to reach for the sun. Then she saw a ship, a pirate ship; her eyes went wide as she realized that the ship was that of Captain Hook's. "But... I thought he died..." She started falling, falling fast to the ground. It was fortunate that a large pile of leaves and moss lay in wait for just such a fall.

It must have been magic. It had to have been magic that Akira the little terror had fallen asleep again, and only moments before the other babies. They were getting older, growing so quickly, and Shūhei stared at them with pride on his face as they all slept. The pride melted to love as his gaze shifted to Genkurō, who was asleep himself. It was a naked expression on his face, one Genkurō rarely saw. One Shūhei rarely showed. Leaving Genkurō a note, he tiptoed out of the room so as not to wake anyone.

( He stepped out, collecting leaves off the treehouse branches as he went. )

Hunter was in the Sleeping Woods again. He had been back in Mehrdadstan for some time since his interesting encounter with Cernunnos, but had been drawn back to the magical woods he'd lived in before he met the queen of the desert kingdom. He wouldn't be gone for long, he'd told her, only a few hours at most. Striding across Pentamerone in his seven league boots got him wherever he wanted to go in record time. So he'd gone to the woods.

He stood beneath the shade of a tree, smelling winter on the air. He held onto the scent, his eyes closing as he focused. Darkness behind his eyelids gave way to a shadowy form, a loping wolf. In his mind's eye, the hunter met the wolf, and the two regarded each other, as equals, as two halves of the same whole. They changed places, the hunter going to stand in the shadows, and the wolf moving forward, where the man had come from, into the light.

( Hunter felt prickles along his skin, but he didn't move. )

It was done. It had been easy, in the frigid heights of the cold Koude Reizen mountains, to build a masterpiece. An ice palace, a place he could call home, one that wouldn't fade and melt in the blinding sun like in the Blasted Lands. It was finally finished and Morozko took his time appreciating it. But appreciating wasn't enough. Not alone. He wanted someone else who could admire its beauty, its perfection. He knew of one woman who would. "Mabb." When he breathed out her name, it was like ice itself, frozen on his lips, and it made him shiver in delight. Mabb was cold, regal, elegant, and something about her just struck him, something besides her affinity for winter and ice and how it seemed to love her.

( He rose, frowning at the henchmen who skipped and slid through his perfect halls. )

Dorothy's heart was racing as she made her way through the crowd. She was dressed for winter in Kansas, thankfully since the wind was a bit chill. Her eyes shifted quickly around, trying to see if she could find her daughter. She paused briefly to dig through her pockets, seeing if she could find a picture of Ozmina by any chance. There was one in her pants pocket, and Dorothy fought back the tears.

"'Cuse me! Have you seen this lil' girl?" She randomly started picking people off of the street and asking them about her daughter. "She has a green umbrella, and her hair is in pigtails... 'Cuse me..." People were starting to avoid her, and it was getting more and more difficult for her to keep the tears from falling.

Just as she was certain she was about to break, a tall, skinny man wearing a huge deep blue hat* smiled widely at her. "Have a very merry unbirthday! Let's have some tea to celebrate!" His gloved hands reached for her, and Dorothy immediately started backing away from him.

"A what now?" Her drawl was thick as she glanced around and realized that people were singing in the streets and dancing in a most odd manner. As she looked away, the man with the large hat grabbed her and started dancing around with her right there along with the rest of the people. Dorothy was normally very accepting of odd situations, but she was worried about her daughter. "Lemme go, please! I gotta find m' daughter..."

"You can find your daughter after we celebrate your unbirthday... Or was it my unbirthday that we were celebrating?" The man eyed her suspiciously as if she was the one making no sense despite the fact that she hadn't said a word about an unbirthday. "It's tea time! We'll be late! Come on!" The man's hand went around her wrist once more and he immediately rushed for the door of the closest tea house... Along with half of the people that had been celebrating on the sidewalk with them. Dorothy nearly got ran over, but the man in the large hat was insistent and made his way into the building.

Wiggling backwards through the crowd, once Dorothy was free from the mob, she took a look around and realized there were still people on the sidewalks. Looking down at her picture of Ozmina, she straightened it out slightly before she started heading for the closest person. "'Cuse me, but have ya seen this lil' girl?"

(*ooc note: No, this man is not supposed to be the Mad Hatter. He's just a random citizen of Oz.)