Sunday, 23 Rova, 4707 AR
For five years, the faithful of Sandpoint have attended church in temporary structures erected after fire destroyed the previous temple, and while their new religious leader was helpful, kind, and wise, church wasn't the same. Now, the new cathedral is finally done. All that remains is for the Swallowtail Festival to renew the site's blessings from the gods and it will be as if the Sandpoint Fire had never occured.
The people of Sandpoint and travelers from afar have all gathered in the town square early in the morning for the festival's welcoming speech, and stands and stalls boasting breakfast foods, pastries, and festival games have already sprung up around the square to entertain travelers and locals alike while last minute preparations are hurried along to get festivities under way.
Yáraril had spent a day or two getting everything in order and recovering from her long trip before heading into the town. Much to her irritation she had been greeted by "festivities". Why? Why did her timing have to be so bad? All she wanted was to do her research but instead there just had to be some festival right when she'd gotten here.
She was trying as hard as she could to be productive. She'd lowered herself to speaking Common and asking people what they knew about Thassilon. Unfortunately, people either didn't know, were too busy with the festival, or were too drunk. All she'd been able to get out of these humans was that there was a Sage in town, who was supposedly an expert on it, but nobody seemed to know where he was. She'd looked for a bit but she was starting to get frustrated with the fruitless search. For all she knew he could also be too busy right now even if she did find him.
She'd resorted to standing out of the way and watching the passerbys. Some people were too intimidated by the fact she wore a full face mask, that only revealed purple eyes with seemingly no "whites", to even approach her. The few who had tried to talk to her had gotten nothing but Azlanti out of her until they left. She was fed up with how useless they all were today and none had been persistent enough to ask her if she spoke Common.
Arriving in town, Anasenko notices the hectic preparations for the Swallowtail Festival, bringing a smile to his face.
This should be interesting; hopefully things stay as delightful subsequently.
Figuring to wait until the festival was over, Anasenko asks the first person he can for directions to the Rusty Dragon. He knew that he could rent a room from there, and rest after his trip over from Magnimar; at least, that was what he had heard from traders returning to Magnimar beforehand.
After getting directions (which made him look like a fool, as the Rusty Dragon was just ahead of him), and finding the Rusty Dragon, Anasenko rents out sleeping accommodations, and rests for the night. The next day, he used the entire day to go through town and get the lay of the land, and people-watch at the same time, attempting to learn how people here interact with each other, but not learning much because of how hectic it is.
After Anasenko had found his way around town and had a decent idea where everything was, he headed to the beach near the harbor to watch the ships go by, and to take a look at the Deverin Manor across the mouth of the Turandarok River. After getting enough of that, he returned to people-watching until night fell. Returning to the Rusty Dragon, he rested as tomorrow the festival would begin.
In the morning, Anasenko prepared his extracts, and followed the crowd to the square for the welcoming speech...