Winters Crest

Winter’s Crest had finally arrived and after a year apart since they had defeated the Chroma Conclave once and for all, Vox Machina were meeting back in Whitestone to celebrate before going on a much-needed family vacation, and Vax, in a moment of horrifying distress, was seated on Percy’s bed as he dug through his wardrobe in search for something respectable to wear. “Uh, thanks for this Freddy.”“Not a worry,” Percy replied, voice muffled from where his head was buried within the confines of the dark closet. “I hardly remembered that you don’t wear that dreadful smelling armour every moment of the day and I couldn’t let you looking battle-ready for your sister’s big night, could I?”