The main event for the festival was about to begin. The shopkeepers closed their shops for the day. The owner of the magic shop was locking store door and handed her a small tea box of dried herbs, "Abbigale,  I am headed to the arena. Will you take these herbs to Moma? I will not be home until dark."<br/><br/>The girl of 17 smiled and her blue eyes sparked and wisps of her blond hair peeked out of her rabbit fur hood. She was dressed in a long quilted, red, green, and blue tartan skirt with a linen, white blouse and over jacket matching her skirt. Layers of petticoats gave her a rounded shape at the hem of her dress. Over her shoulders was a dark navy, wool cloak. She wore brown fleece lined, leather shoes with a small quark heal. Over her shoulders were a pair of ice skating boots.<br/><br/>Abbigale grasped  the package as she was anxious to leave the shop and join her friends ice skating at the pond in the town square,for Gladiatorial fights made her sick.  She proceeded to push her way opposite the crowded main street. She rushed into a clearing at the edge of town and rushed into the back of a black wool uniform of a Jr. Squire, nearly knocking him down.<br/><br/>Abbigale quickly dimi-curtsied and looked down as she noticed, the red and gold crest with a dragon in the center, of Lord Redthorn, "Sorry Sir. I did not see where I was going."