"Maragarn," Serephus said. "A merchant happened upon Red a few days ago. He came from the north, and he said..." Serephus trailed off as he turned and walked to the far end of the tent.
Serephus opened a trunk, and produced a parchment. "The Festival of the Dawn," Serephus read, showing the group. Beneath those words was a colorful painting of a butterfly.
"The butterfly represents change," Serephus explained. "Or so we're told. The merchange said that the Port City of Dannath is having a fourteen day celebration in honor of the Emerald Dawn, welcoming ALL of the Dawn's children."
Serephus' tone was hopeful, though it sounded forced. The Satyr was suggesting something that no other Satyr had every considered. The idea that there was a community that might not only accept them, but embrace and welcome them was ridiculous, a child's fancy. Yet here, this old Elf, disfigured by a curse on the very morning Dannath was going to honor, was suggesting that Maragarn should attend.
"There are those of us who cannot accept ourselves," He said to his son. "That has never been a flaw of yours. For those who live in shame, a thing like this would not be welcomed. For you, this may be an opportunity to tell our story."
Serephus rolled the parchment, tied it with twine and handed it to his son. "The festival starts on the second moon."
(OOC: Meaning, not this coming full moon, but the next... So, like... 6 weeks. I will have to find my map and make sure that's enough time, but I believe it is. We'll edit as necessary. )