TFL 17.11.27

The Festival of Blades: (Supplemental reading)

The Dwarven Chieftain, Cutter, had already done the impossible: He'd united the various clans. Where most saw a fool's errand, Cutter saw an opportunity. The plot was perfect for a city, but it needed the masses to make it work. It needed craftsmen, sailors, merchants, and whores. It needed clergy, guardians, entertainers, and scholars. And they were out there. They were all out there, they just couldn't be convinced to cooperate. The rivalries stemmed back to before anyone could remember. They were just taken as a fact of life. The Drow hated the Elves, and they always would. The Dwarves hated the...well it was the Elves again, and they always would. The so and sos hated the whoevers and would continue to do so because it's the life they knew, but Cutter saw more. He started with the Holy Plaza, a place where people of ANY faith could congregate. He made sure to keep it safe, because he predicted there would be brawls, and he was right, but they were always broken up before anyone died or burned down a temple. It was a start. The city grew, in it's way, but still the neighborhoods were self segregated. Children forbidden to stray into the wrong neighborhood, because "they" couldn't be trusted. Cutter died before he ever saw the city truly unite. It wasn't until some years later that something truly remarkable took place. Reavers had heard of the fledgling city, knew that it was weak, ill organized, and most importantly, all of those various peoples within it all brought their own treasure. This place was ripe for the picking, and so, under the light of a full moon, they struck. What started off as an easy victory developed into something which would surprise not only the assailants, but the residents themselves. They banded together. Not out of compassion, not out of solidarity, but out of the inherent will to survive. And survive they did. Against hardened soldiers, bakers and seamstresses, street rats, and chimney sweeps banded together, took what modest weapons they had, and repelled the reavers. The only thing they had in common? They were from Cutter. From that day on being from Cutter was a point of pride, a badge of honor. The neighborhoods blended, it took centuries, but now one would hardly recognize the place by walking down any given city street, save for the Holy Plaza, which remains one of the cities shining features. Every year the Festival takes place under a full moon. There are fireworks and costumes, food and drink, dancing and revelry, but most of all, there is pride in Cutter.