"Take a seat, Lady, and listen. I have sent the boggans upon any numbers of tasks, most of them unreasonable, so that even their gift for timely work will not allow them to eavesdrop anytime soon. Protocols and weaverwards to vex even the sluagh are in place, and my most loyal thanes guard main entries. All this, just so an old man can safely share his story," the Baron chuckled dryly.
"I warn you, I am no Eshu. I am an older fae being asked to tell a story of the 'old days'. You have asked for what most childlings and even wilders would treat like the most odious fate, to be trapped while their elders ramble and remanence inexpertly and often clumsily. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be on the chase through the woods on a grand hunt, or playing at the beach where warm sun and soft waves conspire to delight? I can arrange a vacation for you and that Liam of yours as a payment for… no, I see it in your eyes. You have made up your mind, and lift that defiant chin. Your brows wax imperious as Shallimar would say. Don't feel too insulted, imagine if you had a mustache as I do. I know he often refers to me as His Adorned Upperlippness. He's a jester, and some where in the past some noble agreed with the Dreaming that they should be allowed to mock the nobility in ways no other could. I don't blame jesters, but I find the idiot king who agreed to that, I might contemplate regicide. Only contemplate mind."
"Where to begin? The War of the trees? The shattering? The mythic ages? Tales of Arcadia- not that anyone remembers them well. You think you want to hear about the Accordance War, and my part in it. Well, in that case, there's really only one way to begin. With a step."