The sounds of constant chatter and worried discussion filled the air. Travelers arriving from the desolute destruction brought upon the god of rebirth were in need of a place to stay. Luckily, in times of need, the poeple within the Dragon's Cradle offered a home: Hearthside Village. While merely in the early stages of being able to be a fully realized safe haven, it was going to need a large amount of help in order meet those standards. Community was already being formed, however the wanton ruin of an old home left the refugees less than happy about their situation. That wouldn't stop a certain zombie elf from lightening the day.

Rosen travelled far, honing a new craft that seemed perfect for a situation such as this. Though, how these people would react to what is normally decreed as a monster, he wouldn't know until he tried. Thankfully, he learned from the last few cities and the advice from the many voices held within his punctured cranium. Keeping a black cloak over him, albeit unable to hide the dagger embedded into his skull, he made his way to what appeared to be the works of a plaza with relative ease and a few concerned stares. He looked around, ensuring the area was a little empty of guards who would jump at the chance to slay creatures like him before pulling out his new favorite weapon, a fashioned lute he bought with his earnings after a previous encounter involving living paint.

He hesitated for a moment, a little worried about the reception. 
"Cmon Rosen, you want people to like you? You gotta take a chance." He held his lute close and with a long breath, began rapidly tapping his feet and knocking on the lute for a beat. People turned to the noise, curious as to what was happening. Rosen raised his boney hand up and began playing a fast and light melody, keeping his head down to avoid showing their strange appearance.

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SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Hearth and Home
Participants: Two or more
Location: Dragon's Cradle, (Hearthside Village)
Post Requirements: 4 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: A new village is being constructed on the border between Dragon's Cradle and Zeinav and the region is in need of helping hands. Due to the increased flow of people fleeing the Ash Lands, Dragon's Cradle has become a hub for refugees and has decided to put their resources to good use, building a new village to further increase the region's economy and social standing with their neighbors to the south. An open call has been issued to anyone who would like to help out. Things like constructing buildings, stables or fences, the digging of trenches or wells and collecting supplies like lumber or food are all task that are in need of assistance. Whatever you have to offer, Hearthside Village will accept!

A throng of people had congregated amongst the ruin and the fallout of the adventurers' epic battle. It was the kind of thing that poets wrote and sang about. Dante would normally have relished the thought of making the first drafts. But the fact remained that it was his home that was now a crater, and it was a miracle that his mother had made it out. The older Fellblood sat on her good chair and watched as Dante fluffed the small pillow on the charred mattress he was able to dig out before the other refugees could get to it.

"Now mother this isn't going to be the Charon king size mattress I got you last year, but it should suffice for the time being."

His mother nodded and said, "That's alright son. I'm just glad you're here and safe. Oh look, a servant is coming. You didn't tell me you had help."

Dante looked over and sought to correct her when he saw the hooded corpse with a lute show up. Dante had seen stranger, but amidst the wreckage and the death, it was a bit on the nose. He withdrew himself from the bed and out the open doorway. He could see there were guards on edge to which he rolled his eyes and whispered, "Settle down idiots," as he used Calm Emotion to keep them from doing something stupid.

He approached the zombie and said, "Well that's quite the diddy you have going. Quite the macabre showing, might not settle well with the locals. Unless.. oh this isn't a costume.."

Dante rubbed the back of his head and said, "I'm sorry for that mix up, how presumptuous of me." He tossed a coin to Rosen and said, "Say my mother thinks you're a house servant, and I need a little bit of help. And you might need to be seen to keep the guards from harassing you. Just.. um... clack twice if you agree?"

He never talked to a zombie before.

The undead played to his heart's content, though noting the guards suddenly becoming less wary of him. ¹Taking this chance, the notes he played seemed to sound perfectly clear throughout the town, regardless of distance or being inside buildings. ²It appeared to effect the very ground and plant life around the area as grass miraculously began growing from the dirt, patches of flower beds springing forth, even kept aromatics and flowers inside the people's homes somehow teemed with invigorated life. ³With a final strum of his lute, the nearby trees inexplicably bore fruits, both those native and foreign to the Dragon Cradle. He smiled at the small crowd, some were happy but fairly concerned by the stranger. A few kids, excited by the sudden plant life, began climbing the trees to retrieve some of the newly sprouted fruit.

As the fellblood approached, Rosen pulled the hood off of him, ceasing their song as they revealed the rose replacing one of their eyes. He laughed a little at the confusion for a costume.
"Don't worry, I only bite on the weekends. I don't mind helping your mom out for a bit though if you don't mind keeping the guards off me when I play again." He placed his lute away before catching the solar tossed his way. Rosen put out their skeletal hand, thought for a moment, and switched to their fleshy one. "Name's Rosen Peace, since I definitely did not get to rest in peace." ³Opening and bringing over their boney palm, a vine crawls its way out of his sleeves, bearing the local bolt apple at the end of it. Its glow being a bright one. "Here, a little bit of food before we get to work. Speaking of which, what exactly do you need mister?"

---

1. Piercing Song
2. Plant Growth
3. Create Food

Dante looks at the apple quizzically and takes a bite of it. His eyes widen in surprise at the delicious taste and wondered briefly if it was alchemically altered. He said, "Dante. Dante Discreet. Master of Ceremonies, perhaps you've... okay maybe you haven't been to one of my parties but you certainly should. I had a spooky themed idea that you would be absolutely perfect for. Charming to contrast the macabre, it's quite a good look on you."

"Where's the ottoman?!"

An older woman's voice cried out in Dante's direction. He chuckled nervously and called back, "Coming mother!"

He ignored the embarrassment and said, "Well perhaps I should introduce you first." He turned on heels and walked back to the makeshift house and retrieves a small crate with a couple of singed throw pillows on top of it. She helps the older fellblood woman's feet on it and said, "Mother dearest may I introduce you to Rosen Peace. Excellent minstrel, very entertaining, and he'll be helping me help you feel more comfortable."

She narrowed her eyes at Rosen then looked to Dante and asked, "Did you kill him?"

"No! Mother how could you say such a thing?"

She looked skeptically and then said, "Fine then. Rosen dearie, play me something sweet like you were with the children out there."

A bright smile formed on Rosen's face, happy to hear of the offer.
"Typically when people who look like me get into gatherings, a lot of screaming gets involved. Though if you think you could blend me into a party of yours, I wouldn't turn it down. Only if you'd want of course, I get that you're just trying to be nice-" The shout of an older woman cut Rosen off.

He promptly followed Dante over to where his mother was located. A small laugh escaped him at the accusation that the fellblood had killed him. "Ah don't you worry miss. I've already had my dance with death and well, there's a reason I play rather than dance."

The zombie sylvan couldn't help but smile again. For once, someone wasn't immediately afraid nor tried to dig a sword into him.
"A sweeter song. I think I have just the thing." He took a seat by her, pulling his lute out once more. The notes he chose to play this time were much more higher pitched and lighter while still keeping a quick pace. His exposed phalanges practically danced along the strings as he played a joyous, yet relaxing melody. He tapped his foot upon the wood floor, making spaced-apart beats to go along with the lute playing. Rosen's gaze moved from the mother to Dante as they began to sing a bit.
"Oh my dear, it'll be ok. I'll ensure it'll be your day. And I'm never gonna stop till you have your way. Hey!" 

Rosen continued the melody as the lute gave off a yellowish glow. ¹With each strum, a couple of seeds fell from the hole of the lute. However, when they hit the floor, the seeds suddenly began moving. Growing minuscule arms and legs, they began dancing to the music.
"You lot help Mr. Discreet. I'll join you in a moment." The group of seedlings flocked around the feet of the fellblood, climbing onto his shoes in preparation for whatever tasks they could accomplish.

---

1. Summon Seedlings

Dante's mother rocked in the seat, eyes fluttering between waking and napping. Despite the choking air, the fellbloods of the Ash Lands weren't perturbed as much as others, especially the older ones. They had an edge to them from a life of ash falls and street violence lighting up the streets.

Dante looked down at his feet at the seedlings crowding over his feet. He held up a hand and was about to say something, but Rosen had already hopped to it with his song. Dante tapped his cheek and looked quizzically at the strange plant growths crawling around.

"Um... go um... I suppose... clean up the kitchen space."

The seedlings stared up at him for a long moment.

"...Please?"

The seedlings scattered and got to work moving small rocks and broken pieces of wood from the kitchen. Dante sighed with relief an said, "Well that was.. interesting." He glanced over at Rosen and said, "Improv music eh? Are you sure you've never played at a party before? You'd earn yourself quite the tip. Certainly more profitable than a street corner and a winning smile."

Dante's mother muttered, "The rhythm's catchy, but the lyrics could use some work."

"Mother!" He chuckled and said, "You'll have to forgive her, she's got an... edge to her. She doesn't mean anything by it."

"Son quit talkin' about me like I'm an insane patient. Has that water boiled over for tea yet?"

Dante gave her a cartoonishly wide and nervous grin and said, "Of course mother dearest, it's coming right up! Chamomile boiled in volcanic mineral spring water with a pinch of cactus water for garnish." He pulled the kettle from the stovetop and hastily poured her a cup of tea in a chipped glass. He handed the tinted liquid with flower petals floating in it to her mother. She sipped her tea and leaned back in her chair for a nap.

"Thank you Rosen. Much appreciated. I might actually get some work done around here now."

Rosen laughed at the statement over his lyrics.
"Ah don't worry. Definitely wasn't my best work. Its why I plan out with writing rather than improv."

He sat up carefully, making sure he didn't cause a creak that could stir the woman out of her nap.
"Shall we take to moving outside? The little guys can take care of things from here." Cartoonishly and admittedly too dramatically, Rosen began tip-toeing his way out the door, even going so far as to raise his knees high into the air with each step. 

"Sooo, I'm a little new here if it wasn't obvious enough so I hope I'm not overstepping but what happened? I get there were quakes occurring but I didn't think they were bad enough to desecrate and put people out of their homes." The undead sylvan looked to Dante quizzically. "I may not look the part but I do genuinely want to help these people, you included if you wouldn't mind. Just a lil curious. I know there was some big fight that happened out at Mt. Drakolt but a guy like me can't exactly get access to news as easily." Rosen took a seat on the dirt, waiting on answers as a couple of kids jumping for the food he grew caught his eye. ¹Pointing with his boney hand at the tree, a vine snaked out from his sleeve and flew through the air and towards the branches. It slapped the branch like a stern mother would her misbehaving child, the literal fruits of his labor falling to the ground for the children. 

---

1. Thorn Whip

Dante blithely retorted, "Ah yes, the battle of the century. I'm sure the minstrels and the troubadours are busily quill scratching a real banger of a legend." He sighed and said, "Something about a giant dragon and the end of all things. It was primarily the end of our home as far as I'm concerned. I shouldn't be too callous though; in truth, I am grateful for their efforts. But the realms of Charon will simply have to forgive me if I don't share in the triumphant enthusiasm of some."

One of the children brought tucked a handful of fruits in their shirt and returned to their parents with a mirthful step. He cracked a smile and said, "Still, it's nice to see folks willing to help. Funny how people work like that. So much truth can be found in tragedy."

Dante lofted a brow and inquired, "Why is it you can't get news easily? You seem to be capable of travel at least. Something holding you back?" Dante wondered if he was some sort of cursed creature bound to some location, artifact, or person. Or perhaps he simply couldn't string along enough sinew and ligaments to hold his rotted over corpse.

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear. I didn't mean to push on a touchy subject. I think I can understand to some extent. Not easy being forced to leave someplace you once called home. I'm sure you'll make it out just fine though. You look like the type to not go down easy." Although the memory is foggy, Rosen could recall having used to live in a quaint village like this. Though what happened to it, he hadn't a clue. Not that it mattered much to him anyways. 

"You'd be surprised how kind people can be." He laughed to himself, remembering his shenanigans with a certain scarred individual. "Really, I find it amazing that no matter who you are, where you're from, someone will care."

The undead let out a loud snort when asked why he couldn't receive news.
"No offense Dante but you see me right? Its a miracle the guards here haven't tried to skewer me yet. Not sure why, they looked angry for a moment but immediately relaxed, even when I pulled my hood off." He made sure to look at Dante with full eye contact, deliberately showing that flower that replaced one of his eyes. "Things like me are usually killed on sight for fear of danger since most things like me enjoy biting the marrow off from living people. I just so happen to have a semblance of morals and a major lack for a taste for flesh." A few adults looked over immediately at the mention of consumption of people. Rosen stared back at them. "I just said I lacked it, relax." They promptly walked off, not wanting to be in any more part of this conversation. "Anyways, part of the reason why I want to help out here is so people aren't as afraid of me."

Dante chuckled and said, "Well you certainly got your work cut out for you. The rose is a nice touch. Do you actually see out of it, or is simply pretty on your face?" Was he mildly flirting with a corpse? Just so, he thought. The tragedy that this was probably the extent of any affection he might experience in his unlife made the slightly awkward thought feel more wholesome.

"Perhaps you could dress to a theme. Flowers upon the grave. I'm sure there are some tailors who would relish at the thought though you might need to knock on a few doors. It would help hide some of the holes and the flayed bits of skin just a tad if I do say so myself. I can touch up some clothes, but making something like that from scratch would take a tailor most masterful. Craftsmen of great repute as well as eccentricity: those are the types you ought to look out for."

He winked and offered his hand to Rosen and said, "When was the last time you had a good dance my fellow in death?" He didn't leave much time to answer as he would gently encourage him to step along with him. It seemed only natural to so him a good time given how little contact Rosen must have had in the face of their... well... lack of a face.

He let out a slightly confused laugh, not really used to flattery of this type.
"Ah, no its just there." Rosen reached to his chest, unhooking the attachment that kept his cloak on as he removed it, revealing his torn up pink sweater under it. Each tore exposed an old wound, patched and covered with an array of flowers. "I kinda woke up like this. I suppose I had quite the green thumb before I passed and returned."

Rosen listened close as Dante offered advice to the wears he could use to help himself.
"I've never really considered leaning into what I am but hey, if I get the opportunity to find someone who'd make clothes for me, I'll give it a shot. Oh and don't worry on making me anything. I like having the flowers exposed. Lets them breathe and get sunlight when I'm not trying to hide my scars."

When he offered the hand to dance, the sylvan undead leaned back a bit.
"Oh I'm not much of a- Oh, ok I suppose?" Rosen did his best to follow his moves. It wasn't terrible, at the very least he wasn't stepping on his foot as he moved with him. Being a good deal shorter than the fellblood, only being 5'2, his fleshy and boney hand kept at the man's waist as he tried to dance.

After a minute or so, the undead cocked his head as if someone was talking to him. Then, a smile began to form slowly, a glint in his eye clearly stating he had an idea brewing.
"Hey, you said you planned parties right? What if we planned a dance for the village? It'd definitely cheer the folks here up. I mostly have food covered unless we got people that are strictly meat eaters."

Dante didn’t care who his dance partner was. He might have been most adapted to expression and prose, but no self respecting MC was a novice when it came to dancing. He met the steps of his partner in kind, and he even gave him a spin before it was over. He took a bow, his sharp gaze catching the small crowd forming. He grinned and said, “That sounds like an excellent idea. And like a true Master of Ceremonies, I’m always prepared for a party.” He looked to the crowd and swept his arms in a wide arc.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, guys, guys, and non-binary pals, I have a declaration most fortuitous for you all.”

He gestured to Rosen and said, “I, Dante Discreet, Master of Ceremonies and a brother to you all my fellow Ash Landers have planned a most heartwarming and comforting feast in this trying time. Your pain is my pain, your deaths are my deaths. And an omen of hope, of joy, of rebellion against the cruelty of death stands with us today. Take heed for this man have come as a sign of hope: with his gift and my astute planning and attention to even the most superfluous of details have prepared for you not just food for you bellies but joy for your hearts. Let us mourn with proud smiles on our faces: we have survived the worst a god could give us! Let us raise our glasses and celebrate, for would not our fallen brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, and sons and daughters wish for us a life of happiness? Mourn those we lost, and honor them by living with pride and laughter in the face of overwhelming odds.”

Such a daring speech to such a hurt people was risky, even insane. But not for Dante. A single person posed more of a threat to him than a crowd of starstruck people. But this was a hard sell. He decided therefore to add a bit of extra insurance. He locked eyes with a grieving mother (he could tell by the heavy sad eyes she had) and said, “Will you have this dance with me? For your love?”

He didn’t have to waste time profiling folk when the power of his Charming Grace could capture their hearts instead. The suggestion to dance proved to be all too enticing. Soon he was dancing much like he had with Rosen although perhaps more spirited and even more cathartic. The bizarre yet hauntingly beautiful display did its part to capture the people’s attention. More and more arrived to see the dancing Ash Landers, unable to deny how moving the dance was. When it ended in a sobbing woman’s tears and her firm embrace in Dante’s arms, it was clear all he needed to do was hold her for that one unforgettable moment before releasing her like petals upon the wind.

The crowd was completely enraptured at this point. Dante turned to Rosen and said, “Sorry, I can get a little excited. Hope you can cook quickly. This is probably the best chance to make friends with everyone here you got.” He gave Rosen a wink and a friendly elbow to the exposed ribs.

The display of unworldly showmanship enraptured Rosen. He'd never seen anything like it, not even sure if he'd seen such a thing in his past life. It was clear the man boasted the capabilities of a leader, that clear cut charisma being ever so prevalent. He sighed a worried but excited sigh as he looked on at Dante and the forming crowd with a smile.
"Hope you all don't mind, but come! Forego the ashes of destruction, for you all can persevere!" ¹He retrieved his lute, plucking a loud note as vines erupted from the ground as it formed a counter. "For the ones lost!" ²He strummed his instrument once more, as a bolt apple popped out of the vine. "For the ones still here!" ³A final flick of the wrist on the strings brought seedlings out of the vine, the little guys gathering sticks and stones as they made a campfire set. He grabbed the bolt apple, tossing it to the seedlings as they tore out pieces next to the kindle. The natural sparks from the apple lit the campfire. "And for the future of those who will be here! Bring whatever you wish! None shall have an empty stomach tonight!"

The crowd, already bolstered from Dante's speech, gave a loud cheer as the adults ran to their homes to bring out various meats and a few saved bottles of wine. Rosen smiled. Never before did people trust him. He knew the fellblood did most of the work though as he looked back at him.
"Keep your shoes tied Dancing Dante. We're going to be here all night. Now, what are we going for here in terms of decoration?"

Dante smiled and said, "Decorations? Please." He looked over toward the woman he had danced with and said, "Darling you were simply marvelous on the dance floor, truly a desert flower amongst the ash. If I could humbly ask a small favor.." he gestured to some of the colorful yet torn tents and said, "I imagine those destroyed tents would be better served as banners. Could you round up some of the locals here and see to it that they cut strips from the cloth and hang them up? Really pretty things up, I think it'll be quite enjoyable and really make this party our own."

He didn't need the power of his charm now that he had left such a strong impression on her. The glow of their dance was enough of a push to make his suggestion seem so reasonable that she might as well have thought of the idea herself. She eagerly rounded up a half dozen individual to do the work that Dante would supervise. And by supervise, he meant 'watch someone else do work while he relaxed and enjoyed the view.'

He turned to Rosen and said, "Well my osteopathic friend, it seems we have ourselves a humble yet lovely little soiree. The tent strips really give it a... let's call it refurbished look. Like a broken doll house a caring carpenter touched up with varnish and decorated."

“Seems so. Thanks for your help Dante.” He flashed a smile before looking on to the many who are brought in aid for the decor. “And thank you all for hard work. Now, lets get the preparations under way.”

A good deal of time passes as the townsfolk work to living up the village. Bows made from tent cloth, assortments of flowery, and a collection of strung up lanterns gave way to an enchanting sight. All the while, villagers had brought whatever they desired for food. Him along with an army of seedlings spent the afternoon preparing a plethora of various saved meats, cooking them simply over flame. He was inexperienced but with unseen guidance, Rosen manages not to burn anything. 

Once the cooking was over, Rosen was sat by a tree with a few kids, plucking the petals off a few picked flowers and covering the glass of a lantern. The light that emitted through changed its color via the petal. The kids there ooo’d and ahh’d.
”See how that changes the color? Try making a few and we’ll have that for the dancing area.” He watched as the kids excitedly went to work. Happy with the outcome, he got up and went off to look for Dante.
”Pretty good turn out if I do say so myself. Though, your ideas and planning are to thank.” The undead gave a nice pat on his back. “Real nice to see everyone so happy and excited after their hard work.” 

He stayed silent for a moment, enjoying the happy folk and admiring the efforts to make this place celebratory before a little nervously speaking.
”H-hey, um, I gotta ask… How do you do it?” Rosen fidgeted with their fingers. “How do you just… be that charismatic you sway an entire village to have a party? I get you’re a master of parties but… I don’t know. I guess I’m a little envious.” He pulled out his lute and just fiddled with the strings, playing random notes. “The whole reason why I took up playing was because I wanted people not to be afraid of me. Well, that and because I happened to have some talent with a lute. Though, even still, its hard for others to move past what I am.”