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Date: October 17, 2012
Location: The Tea Table, Wonderland


I really do love October. It is such a fantastic time for drinking tea. That is, I am convinced, the only benefit to keeping these logs: whilst I write, I can drink my tea without interruption. Because, yes; I’m here to report that, once again, my serene, tea-based lifestyle was interrupted once again by those events I’d half forgotten: the visit of Countess Ambrosia and Franco the Fish.

It is my custom to set up a tea table and host many guests each holiday; it is a time to try all manners of teas and treats, and I delight in the most intriguing of conversations with the most interesting of people. Of course, there were tensions in the air; the tension between the vampires and the dark elves had done nothing but grown over the weeks since my visits with the representatives of the races. In the midst of such an environment, perhaps setting out my finest china and opening my metaphorical doors to any who wished entry wasn’t the best of ideas. But if my visitors are in pursuit of tea, who am I to turn them away? So, with this in mind, I set out all of my most comfortable chairs, mismatched though they may have been. I laid out my most finely spun silk tablecloths and decorated them with my shiniest silver utensils. And then there were the cups –my best china, from all over Gaia—and the saucers, and the darling tea pots, all filled with a different brew of tea. Oh, I was so proud of my spread! I only wish I’d had more of an opportunity to enjoy it.

A light, skittish footstep caught my attention, and I looked up from my preparations with a smile, all ready to greet my first guest. But her demeanor was familiar to me, and my expression fell slightly. The creature was petite, delicate, frail; she was a blur of white and reds in my mind, and something about her very airs diminished my delight with the teas around me. There is certainly more than one White Rabbit in Wonderland, and while they all irritate me in their own special ways, this one seems to do so more often than most. I suppose that does make her a friend, considering all that we have gone through together… but that doesn’t make listening to her nagging any easier.

“Hello, Hare.” the White Rabbit said, wringing her hands a bit uneasily before her and shifting her head slightly to try and hide the pocket watch she wore as ornamentation with her hat. Sheesh; loose one’s mind one time and drown one pocket watch in butter, and you get these sorts of reactions for the rest of your life!

“Hello, Rabbit. You’re a little early to my party! I will admit, I am greatly surprised, given your habits.” I greeted her, setting the tea pot I had been holding upon the table.

“Actually… I am late. I meant to be here yesterday.” the Rabbit admitted.

“No matter. Would you care for some tea? It’s fresh... ah, and I see that clock of yours seems to be running slow. While you relax, I could…” I began, my fingers instinctually making grabby hands as I thought about ‘fixing’ the pocket watch.

“No.” she squeaked, snapping a hand up to cover the pocket watch. “I-I mean, I am here on business! Please do not attempt to distract me with such foolishness!” she barked. She could be surprisingly stern, for one who seemed so delicate… one of her more annoying qualities. I made an expression of submission and sank to sit in my high backed chair, relaxing for what I suspected would be a very long talk. Sensing my mood, the White Rabbit cleared her throat and held her hands before her. “…the Mad Hatter isn’t here?”

“No… he’s been surprisingly absent from my table of late. I suppose he’s up to something.” I admitted in a little sigh. “Is your business with him?”

“Good… oh, I mean, no.” the White Rabbit sighed, sounding rather relieved. “It’s just… well, you know what I think of the Hatter. He’s been a great friend to you, I suppose, but I still can’t help but feel that is a bad influence on you.” she sniffed softly. “But that’s not exactly why I’m here… I’ve heard that you are involved in this conflict between the vampires and the Don?”

“I am. And on the side of the vampires, no less. I’m as surprised as you are.” I responded simply.

“Why in the world would you do such a thing? I thought you were genuine in your desire to remain civilized…!”

“Of course I am. It is in pursuit of that goal that I have to do this.” I said stiffly. I knew what she was saying, and I knew what she was thinking; how could she think anything else, staring at my blindfold as she was? And, for a moment, I wished that I had words to offer her in explanation. But I had none; such assurances usually grew out of my talks with the Hatter, and he had been gone so very long from my tea table. Where had he gone? It wore on me, though I dared not to mention it aloud. A sigh escaped me as I continued, not completely liking the serious tone that was forced into the conversation. “But what is this negativity? Are you not going to participate in the coming battle?”

“No… I will.” the White Rabbit conceded in a sigh of her own. “The same as you, on the side of the vampires. I will be operating strictly as a healer, of course… I haven't heard of similar restrictions to your service.”

“That’s because I have made none. This will be war, Rabbit; I’ll certainly use my arts to heal as I can, but instinct warns me it will be blades that I need this time, not my herbs.” I said, thinking about my poison-soaked blades with a shake of my head. "Rabbit, you know that I have no love for vampires, but the thought of living under totalitarian rule sickens me. Forgive me, my friend, but I must put pacifism aside. For this, if nothing else, I will regress.” I poured myself a cup of tea, took a long sip, and continued. “Feral gives as feral gets; let's make this misguided coup a bloody one."

The White Rabbit made no answer; I never did find out if she was defeated, or merely rallying herself for another argument. Never did, that is, because a high pitched squeak interrupted us. I looked towards the noise and was surprised by the fat black bat that swooped in, chattering away in its strange way and grasping a tightly woven scroll in its little claws. The creature swooped low and dropped the scroll to me, screeching in a way that hurt my sensitive ears before wheeling about and flapping away.

“Tch; how dramatic...” I muttered as I tugged the scroll open to ‘read’ the message inscribed upon it:


The time has come. The Don is on the move, seeking to summon some dark god by All Hallow’s Eve. Your assistance is necessary. A base for fellow supporters has been provided; a map on the back of this message will lead you there. It is a place of healing; bring your herbs, and make yourself useful in the healing of those wounded in battle. This is also a place to quickly regain your energy during a fight; stay active there, and you will be rewarded.

Your assistance is also required in the fight; opponents will seek you out, and you must confront them. They travel under the badge of the Don, and with a hoard of owls; destroy the latter and do greater damage to the former. Strike carefully, for the bats of the vampires will be moving to assist you; killing them instead of the owls is NOT permissible, and will do nothing but hinder your success in battle. Leave any calls for vengeance for a later date.

Lastly, your tea table is, unbelievably, in ‘neutral ground’. I will not forbid you from frequenting it, for I feel you would just ignore such orders, but I feel the urge to warn you: you WILL suffer attack there. Expect no aid from your comrades when standing on neutral ground.

I expect to greet you soon on the battleground.

--Ambrosia


“So sweet and subtle with her feelings, that Ambrosia...” I chuckled, shaking my head and folding the note to tuck it away in my pocket. “It is a call to arms, Rabbit...”

“I know; I received mine before heading here.” the Rabbit said, ducking her head. “And I suppose I must be on my way... I want to set up the tents of healing and make sure everything is stocked long before the battle begins. Excuse me.” she said, dropping a little curtsy before turning to scurry away.

So, it has begun. My teas still flavor the air, and my guests and trailing in, taking their places with enthusiasm. And yet, I know that my attentions must be eternally divided; I will flit from tea table to battle, back and forth. I only hope I can do so without doing a disservice to my guests. I shall try to properly document this battle and my place in it whilst here at my table… I only hope the peace remains here. I can not begin to wonder what I would do, were something to disrupt the serenity of my tea table.

Let us hope that this battle is resolved quickly!