[ The feed opens to Ozpin's library in the rebuilt Clockhouse: gone is the overgrowth of red and blue flowers, and instead the room is a clutter of green and purple furniture, overwrought gold filigree, and a few cleverly hidden carvings of butts. He has clearly tried to position the camera away from most of the chaos, so it centers Ozpin at his desk with a stack of fairytale books. He still looks pale and gaunt with simmering Corruption; there is a glint of vampire's fangs in his polite smile. ]

Good evening, Sleepers. For those who do not know me, my name is Professor Ozpin. I teach those who would stand against monsters, and in payment I often ask for the stories they've brought from their worlds... fairy tales of heroes, villains, and fools. I find there is always a grain of truth in every fable, and certainly wisdom to be gained from the sharing of it.

I am one of those who was present in the dream called Deerington. I find that our numbers feel lower, as of late... and I fear that someday, the stories of that dream shall be lost.

A few among us may recall the August of two years ago, a festival of peace and music. We honored the death of Cynthia Sodder, now reborn as the Moon Presence, with stories for her spirit and flowers for her grave. [ He takes on a wry, more distant smile. ] To lay flowers on a grave is an old tradition indeed. But I think it's the stories that are of more use - for the one telling them, not only the one told.

Cynthia was a being caged by the stories told about her. Her daughter, Julia Sodder, suffered the same fate. Many Sleepers remember her as a child... but in this era, the people of Deer Country only seem to remember her by the nightmares she brought to life.

A very wise young man [ his smile softens ] once helped me see past that view. I thought, perhaps, in this month of quiet and reflection, we might share more hopeful stories with the girl now lost. Her spirit still dwells in Sleepy Town, and so - myself, Oscar Pine, and Paul Atreides - now propose a new festival, in the spirit of the season. We shall gather at those grand wooden gates to tell hopeful tales of heroes, of community, and of mistakes that did not mean the end.

You see... the end we chose for her was a mistake. I should like to undertake some act, however small, to ease her eternal pain.

[ that got weirdly dire, thanks Ozpin ]

You may find us at the gates of Sleepy Town for the remainder of the month, telling what stories we think a lost girl may choose to believe in. I hope to see you there.

[[ If your character would like to share a story for Julia (or another NPC), see here for player plot info! ]]