The man went silent as the knife wound vanished, the pain likewise disappearing, and smiled reassuringly at her touch.  "It's all right," he told her, seeing her panic and giving the best reassuring smile he could manage.  "We're not going to let your master know.  Don't worry, all right?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Old bardic tales from hundreds of years ago speak of the Firesparkle Elves.  The race had been cursed (some would say blessed) with the lifespan of a human, but with the insatiable stamina and curiosity to spend every waking moment in bliss and adventure.  Each was recognizable by the amber glisten in their eyes, a trait which could be passed down for hundreds of generations even to humans, a trait which this noblewoman carried as well.  "Well, it's settled, then," she decided for him with all the authority of one born to prestige.  "I'm Lady Marna Wanders.  The servants will help you settle in if you require anything more than a room and meals."  She didn't seem clear on all the particulars.  "Might I expect a tale at breakfast?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/>As the paladin snuggled with the bear, the merchant gave her a smile.  It actually seemed the answer to his prayers.  "Is this a trained wrestling bear?" he asked her, a soft gleam in his eyes.  "My mentor has spent three years trying to find a trained wrestling bear for the Festival of Life."<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"You are all fools!"  From further up the road, a wizened old man hobbled his way along, shouting his dire warnings.  "Do you not understand that death must be accepted if life is to be truly enjoyed?  Why do you celebrate except to lament?  Have you not heard the prophecies?"  Guards keep watch upon the old man, but most simply ignore him.