There's a collective relaxing of tension at their departure, which lasts only long enough for people to suddenly realize there's only an hour or two left before the Feast of Thresholds.

Under the direction of a tired-looking Daertes, the organizers start scrambling to finish their abandoned preparations. There's supposed to be a ceremonial procession through the town right about now, blessing homes with herbs and a ritual denial-of-entrance-to-spirits, but it's looking like it will take half an hour to get everything ready. 

"Well, that's was a lot of fuss for how minor the results were, as awful as they were for Marin and that young boy. I hope they find a way to be happy wherever they end up." He is not going to comment on it being good he stayed next to her. Jen would be annoyed and he's pretty sure Lilian already understands what happened there.

"They're both young, they'll adjust even if it won't be easy at first. Poor girl, her father rejecting her will be the worst of it, at least to start."

Eventually, the town gets its act together enough for the procession to begin. Most of the townsfolk accompany Eriksmont's priests on a winding path through the streets. Heads of households and owners of buildings stand just inside their properties, participating in the ceremonial call-and-response in which the home is blessed, evil spirits are denied entry, and any existing invitations are rescinded. 

"It's believed among some Order members that those do actually work, at least on a handful of weaker spirits," Lilian remarks to Alex after a few of these blessings. "Of course, others think it's superstitious nonsense. Either way, a proper warding scheme is much more airtight." 

The procession also stops at the town graveyard, where incense is burned to the ancestors, and songs of remembrance are sung. Then it returns to the green, where awaits the Feast of Thresholds. Rows of tables bear a blend of last year's harvest and this year's new growth. Whole stuffed cabbages sit next to fresh sorrel soup; dried mushroom pies accompany a plate of nettle fritters. Dried and salted meats sit alongside fresh-caught fish and roasted pork and goat.

The mood is somewhat soured by the interruption and subsequent hasty preparations — archery targets sit unused in a sad pile — but Eriksmont planned a festival, and by the gods it's going to have one. Townsfolk dig in with gusto, and as the sun sets, the battle of the equinox begins.

The Queen of the Waves (represented by a villager in a costume shaped like a spiral shell, waving black streamers on sticks in lieu of tentacles) and the Drownfather (an elder in a twenty-foot-long trailing gown of knitted seaweed) rise from beneath the sea (a dozen townsfolk holding blue and green ribbons). They circle and sing, calling forth their minions — more performers in costumes of sea creatures and pale drowned dead — and as the last rays of daylight dwindle into darkness, the Queen surges forth to battle the Drownfather. She envelops him in billowing tendrils, and "casts him out into the greater depths." (He falls dramatically, and is carried off the green by half a dozen performers). 

And then: dancing! 

(Between dances, Lilian is persuaded by a few brave urchins to briefly alter their visages into that of the sea-monsters, and they clumsily reenact the battle to a mixture of laughter and scandalized looks from the adults who notice). 

There's music and dancing to be had in the town square, as well, quieter and less raucous than the chaos on the green. The wealthier, more dignified townsfolk tend to head that way, although both areas are traditionally open to all.

Alex is happy the festival is back on track. He'll explain the options to Lilian and let her choose.

Chaos first, definitely chaos. But she'll make her way to the town square in time! 

It turns out she has more than just the two guards, as they swap out after the feast. ("Go enjoy yourselves!" she tells Welligan and Priscus."It's not an order but it is a very strong suggestion!")

"And thank you, Alex, you've been an excellent host despite the difficulties of the festival. I think I can find my own way for now, and I wouldn't dream of keeping you from the evening's entertainments. Have your fee, and my thanks." She hands over a generous collection of Imperial coinage.

"None of the problems were on you and I think you being here had some distinct upsides. I hope you enjoy the rest of the festival."

Quest complete: About the Town
You have gained 2 Eriksmont Lore XP! 
You have gained Reputation with Petronian Orders! 

"Likewise!"

Lilian glides off into the crowd of dancers. 

Well after all of that a night of dancing to let off some tension sounds good. He'll join in the chaotic dancing and let the rest of the night pass away.

After he bumps into a few more out-of-towners: 

Quest complete: Party Like There's No Tomorrow
You have gained 2 Carouse XP!
You have gained 1 Folk Ken XP! 
You have gained 1 Magic Sensitivity XP! 
You have gained 2 Might XP! 

A little bit before the town bell tolls nine, Jen is asked to tend to a dancer with a sprained ankle. It's a relatively easy splint, though that particular dancer shouldn't be on their feet for the rest of the night.

And sometime around ten, a small group of people emerge from town through the eastern gates. Many such groups have come and gone this evening, so this scene is nothing special, even if it is a bit unusual to see a half-dozen or so town guards surrounding a lone woman in a dress of black and silver. 

Nor is it particularly remarkable when they approach the green; nor when the woman ascends the small musicians' platform, during the gap between dances, and begins to sing. 

The song itself is unusual; a soft and haunting dirge, standing in sharp contrast to the fast-paced fiddling of the dances. People pause to listen; many gather closer, curious and entranced. 

The remarkable thing is how, as the final note rings out, a sudden drowsiness strikes the listeners, and how, in the span of a few moments, a thousand people slump over unconscious at once. 

Alex wakes to a searing pain across his throat. He is paralyzed, his limbs unresponsive, unable to do so much as open his eyes. There is the sound of heavy footsteps nearby, and the wet slick of blade against flesh. Again the sounds come, and again, and again. 

The only mercy is that, soon after waking, a deeper and more lasting slumber claims him.