Two men in strange costumes stand in town square. The first is a scarecrow on a portable post with pumpkin head and straw falling loosely from many openings in its clothing. The other is a clown in bright prismatic colors wandering around the scarecrow on his hands; his face is painted as though he were upright, a single eye drawn around the mouth, and a mouth drawn connecting his seeing eyes. They dance in strange motions around the square and sing:

The leaves are changing to gold and crimson
The world prepares for the long sleep
To rest until the proper season
That new life can come and we can again plant and reap.

A party now of grand proportions!
Come and enjoy the fruits of labors and toils!

Dress as a nightmare
Dress as dreams
Be the pauper
Color your skin in copper
Wrap in violet and play the Kings
Delve to be ugly or strive to be fair.

A party now of grand proportions!
Cone and masquerade as the true menagerie of life!

Take the road East
Then travel South
By the shore of the lake, there you will find…

They dance around the square in a madness of twirls, bows, and leaps. Laughter peals from them when they are not singing that fills the autumn air with insane giddiness.

Sheng Long walks into the square, his bare feet making no noise on the smooth cobbles but the steady beat, beat, beat of flesh on stone. His pace quickens as he enters aproaches the pair of criers. Cocking his head to the side and closing his eyes he falls in time. A smile eases onto his features and he joins the pair forming a trio.
Song rises to his lips, falling in to the other tune, shadowing its words:

One and two and one and two
The pace comes easy
The beat is smooth
Red and gold and copper rain
Laughter sorrow joy and pain
The frost gathers, the air is cool
Reap, then sow and plant again
Pound of blood, stamp of feet
Heat the Aether with roaring flame...

Spinning off east Sheng Long folows the pair...

Two porcelain life-sized dolls of beautiful women inclothed in dead and sleeping things; lie in crystalline coffins asleep. Quiet. The coffins stand as they should not, upright and at attention. Stretched between these most gorgeous women sealed in the ice of crystal is a banner that reads:

Sleep, sleep O’ land,
Drift, drift O’ snow,
Quiet, quiet all you criters,
Fall, fall O’ hor-frost.

Come, come all you living,
Wait, wait with all your friends.
Sing, sing songs of remembrance,
Dance, dance the steps of hope.

It ‘tis a Ball of grand proportions.
East out of the city then South,
by the lake, frozen and waiting.

OCC: It is time for a new party... (f34) for location