Traditions. Many of us don't really know how certain acts and celebrations start or how they come to be part of our lives. No one really remembers why the first farmer would leave a loaf of bread every year after harvest among the fields.

Or why the first batch of cider or ale of the year were always used to water the roots of fruit trees.

Or why fishermen always casted back the first fish they caught in the winter or why hunters slices the palm of their hands and fed their blood to the heart when they claimed their first prey.

The Fall Festival was on of those traditions. A big, blazing bash held on the last day of Autumn amid much drinking, reveling and dancing. Huge fires were lit, the pungent aroma from the flames was thought to ward off the evil spirits and scare away the witches.

Men and women would roam the fields shouting and whistling, beating sticks to ensure the pesky beasts got the message. More often than not the sounds of shouting and whistling would be replaced with lustful moans as they day went on.

It was also believed that jumping over or through the bonfires could bring good luck.

Today everywhere you went in the city was decorated with boughs of wild berries. There was much singing, shouting and revelry. Everywhere you looked you saw people drinking and eating, laughing and singing. For one brief day everyone went out to enjoy themselves. In darken corners and alleys, shadowy figures could be seen enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, making the beast of two backs, as shouts and smells of ecstasy filled the air. Kissing and groping seemed to be everywhere you looked. As if a feverish desire started to rise within people throughout the day culminating in a huge release late in the evening.

It was the Fall Festival, honouring Hoi. The oldest known festival to men. And as long as there was consent, today anything was possible...

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