Dear Diary:

You can't imagine how much trouble I've had today! It's infuriating I tell you! I set schedules, easy to follow and all, and what do I get? Reports of enemy activity! Oh, I could turn that dratted Arawn into a spotted toad for this!

I suppose I'd better start at the beginning.

It was the concert. The Children of Evening had to be out there when the sun set. No use disappointing those clodpoles on the surface. I might have banned wish granting, but we Fair Folk can still put on a good show, as per expectations. We had everything planned properly. And then the reports came in- something about stirrings in the Southern Cantrevs. Of course, I had to send out scouts, see what else we could dig up about was going on. You can imagine how anxiously I waited for their replies.

Well, it was Gwystyl who came through for me. He's a diligent fellow, no matter what all the imbeciles around me say. Oh, I'll grant you that listening to him talk makes a morgue sound like a rather cheerful place to be, but he does his job.

Anyway, it seems most of the lords of the Southern Cantrevs are rallying to Arawn's banner. He sent the Horned King out to persuade them. Evidently, whatever that red-painted brute offered them must've sounded good, because they're getting ready for the march. And now the Horned King himself seems to be planning a move towards the southeast- Belin only knows why.

So as you can see, I've had quite a hassle today from this news alone. And that's not the half of today's troubles. I just received word that nobody told the Children of Evening that I'd called the concert off earlier today. They showed up at the clearing and nobody was there. Oh, I could throttle my messenger for this neglect! But no, I'm too kind and compassionate for that. I'll have to think of something else.

Maybe I can turn him into a pig.

No, never mind. I hate pigs.