The night of the new harvest was here and you couldn't resist the call of the festivities bustling throughout the kingdom.

As the heir to the throne you were not allowed to venture out alone, but on this night you snuck out from the palace and made off to the festival in disguise, hoping to finally escape your responsibilities for once.

The hours passed easily and you were getting merry with almost every soul present within the warm tavern you had wandered into. Orcs, dwarves, gnomes, it did not matter, as long as they filled your glass and sang along with you, you were happy.

As you raised your glass to take a sip of the spiced wine the barman had recommended, large slender fingers cover the top of the cup, preventing you from drinking from it.

You glance up in confusion to see a tall, unfamiliar elf standing before you, cloaked in black with a curious look in his eye...as if he recognises you.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you...your highness" he says sarcastically

"nothing quite ruins your evening like being poisoned..."