Epilogue: Dawn Over Greendale
The Return: As the first rays of dawn break over Greendale (Campaign), the party returns along the forest path—battered, perhaps, but victorious. The contrast between their journey out and their return could not be more stark. Where once urgent whispers and fearful glances followed them through the market square, now relieved cheers and grateful smiles greet their arrival.
Captain Aldrich’s Relief: Captain Aldrich waits at the town gates, having paced the walls through the darkest hours of night. When he sees the party approaching, carrying evidence of their success and perhaps leading captured bandits, the weathered captain’s stern facade finally cracks.
“By the gods… I won’t lie to you—I spent half the night wondering if I’d sent you to your deaths and the other half wondering if we’d wake to fire and screaming. You’ve done more than save lives today. You’ve given an old soldier back his faith in doing the right thing.”
The dusty weapons in the guard barracks suddenly seem less like shameful reminders and more like tools waiting for proper hands to wield them.
Festival Renewed: With the threat eliminated, the Festival of Therion transforms once again. What had begun to feel forced and anxious now bubbles over with genuine joy and relief. The dwarven smiths ring their hammers with renewed vigor, elven silk seems to catch the light more brilliantly, and halfling laughter rings clearer than before.
Mensarius and the Vault: Mensarius practically weeps with relief when presented with evidence that the bank is safe. His nervous energy transforms into grateful efficiency as he counts and recounts the festival proceeds, muttering thankful prayers to whatever gods watch over coin and commerce.
“I… I can’t begin to express… the ledgers are safe, the vault is secure, and my family’s honor remains intact. Please, anything the bank can do to repay this debt…”
He insists on opening a special account for each party member, a gesture both practical and deeply personal from someone who measures worth in precisely calculated figures.
The Third Onion Tavern Celebration: Tarin Copper declares the evening’s festivities “on the house” for the heroes, though her definition of “evening” seems to stretch considerably. The tavern becomes the heart of an impromptu celebration that spills out into the market square. Stories of the party’s investigation spread and grow with each telling, until even the party might not recognize their own deeds.
“Room 103 will always be yours if you need it,” she declares, pressing mugs of her finest ale into their hands. “And don’t think I’ll let you pay for another drink in my establishment as long as I draw breath!”
Wider Revelations: The intelligence gathered from the bandit camp reveals troubling implications that Captain Aldrich and the town council will need to address. Someone in Greendale (Campaign) provided detailed information to the bandits—maps too accurate, schedules too precise for outside observation alone. The investigation may be over, but questions remain about trust and security within the community.
References to the “Crimson Company” suggest this was merely one cell of a larger criminal organization. Other towns, other festivals, other innocent celebrations may face similar threats. The party’s success here may have prevented one tragedy while revealing a much larger problem.
The False Leads Resolved: Word eventually reaches the party about the aftermath of their other encounters:
- Young Aldwin at the Ruins of High Watch has abandoned his necromantic experiments, perhaps chastened by the party’s intervention or inspired by their example to seek healthier ways to deal with grief.
- Olymyster Oakleaf continues his hermetic existence, protected by Finn and Fron, though his cryptic warnings proved more accurate than anyone initially realized. The forest seems calmer now, with wildlife beginning to return to their normal patterns.
- The injured owlbear cub (if helped) recovers under its mother’s care, adding another small victory to the party’s larger triumph.
Personal Moments:
Cyrene - You notice a mother and a small child standing nervously nearby. The mother meets your eyes, and bashfully looks away. She encourages her child, with a pat of the back, towards you.
The child rushes up and pull on your laurels
“Scuse me, scuse me..?”
(Wait for RP)
“I just… i just wanna say fank you for helping everyone out, even though people are probably mean to you. people are mean to me too, and i know i like other people, and you must like other people too to help them, so i think that’s great, and i think maybe people shouldn’t be mean to you just cause you’re different”
The child then runs back to her mother, who shoots Cyrene another bashful glace before hurrying on their way.
Looking Forward: As the party rests after their ordeal, Captain Aldrich approaches with a more formal proposition. The town council has authorized him to offer the party an ongoing relationship—perhaps as special investigators, perhaps as honored friends who can call upon Greendale (Campaign)‘s resources when needed.
“The truth is, we need people like you. People who can see threats we miss, handle dangers we can’t. This won’t be the last time dark forces threaten innocent folk, and I’d sleep better knowing we could call on you when that day comes.”
The Festival Continues: The Festival of Therion extends an extra day in celebration of its salvation. What should have been a morning of terror and loss becomes a day of storytelling, feasting, and renewed appreciation for the simple joy of community gathering in safety.
As evening falls and the extended festivities wind down, the party might find themselves sitting together—perhaps in The Third Onion Tavern, perhaps on the walls overlooking the market square—watching the last of the celebration and reflecting on how quickly everything could have gone wrong, and how their choices made all the difference.
The Final Image: The last image of Greendale (Campaign) might be the sight of families walking safely home through torch-lit streets, merchants loading wagons for their journeys without fear of ambush, and children playing games that tomorrow they’ll remember as “heroes and bandits”—always choosing to be the heroes.
The Festival of Therion will return next year, and the year after, and for years to come. Because sometimes, when good people stand together against the darkness, the light not only endures—it grows brighter.