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DM Zyren's Heart of Runes

Game Master Zyrenity

Adventure Path Rise of the Runelords - Strange incidents in Sandpoint: a goblin raid, shadows of the past, a serial killer...what other perils do the brave Sandpoint Saviours have to master?


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Summon wall of text! Yeeha, here we go-Welcome to Sandpoint and Heart of Runes, a Rise of the Runelords Experience extraordinaire!

The sun stands high above Sandpoint - one could think the waning summer desperately tries to cling to the rocky cliffs that surround the Varisian Gulf. In fact, the last few days have been amongst the warmest during Erastus and Arodus for years. Not a single cloud shows mercy with the inhabitants of the small coastal town, yet that doen't seem to dampen the people's mood.

All inhabitans of Sandpoint are industriously working on this or that to ensure that the following day – the first day of autumn – is going to be a memorable one. It's Swallowtail festival, named after the eponymous butterfly, one of the most sacred holidays of Desna, the goddess of dreams, travel, luck and last but not least the stars.

For the small town of Sandpoint tomorrow is even more special: it's the day of the consecration of the new cathedral. A building dedicated to the five most revered gods: Erastil, Abadar, Sarenrae, Shelyn and Gozreh. There is no shrine for Desna, but only because of the fact that the winged goddess doesn't like to be enclosed in a building...how beautiful it may be.

The driving force behind the construction of the cathedral was Father Abstalar Zantus, former a wandering priest of Desna, who has become the spiritual leader of the town after his antecessor has found his death in a tragic fire some years ago...a fire that also destroyed the former temple.

However, the gloomy happenings of the past aren't something that worries the people of today. Everyone is looking forward to the festival and a brighter future that is surely soon to come.
Mayor Kendra Deverin and Sheriff Belore Hemlock have tried everything to arrange the external circumstances in a way that the success of the ceremony is guaranteed.

Wagons full of good beer and wine have been transported to Sandpoint from Magnimar, liquors and spirits from Riddleport and...umm yeah, ok nothing from Korvosa, but the people from Sandpoint don't expect anything good to come from that Chelish hideout (that's what the people tend to call it...)

Spits for sucklings, ham and lamb roast have already been prepared and the smell of cakes, cookies, and other pastries fills the air since days...This was all made possible by the four ruling families of Sandpoint: The Kaijitsus, the Valdemars, the Scarnettis and the Deverins. All of them gave large sums of money to fund the festival and most normal shop owners and innkeepers also contributed what they could.

OK, one final day until the festival will begin-last preparations from your side? If not, maybe you could already describe yourself and introduce yourself to the setting :-)


The hustle and bustle of Sandpoint surrounds Gerlick, and he glares from under his hood at the general happiness of the people. If only they knew how the gods truly felt. The fools were nothing more then slaves to the whims of the gods, and he himself was proof of the gods ire.

Walking through the town, avoid crowds,the cloaked half-orc stopped every so often to check on any beggars he could find. Hiding his ravaged flesh with a pair of gloves and his hooded cloak, Gerlick tries to offer aid to any of the destitute or unwanted of Sandpoint's society. Heal Checks on any beggars who look like they may be sick/wounded. Heal 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20. He doesn't have a healers kit so its more about letting them know what they can do to cheaply take care of themselves.

When night begins to fall, Gerlick begins to try to find himself a nice quiet alley to sleep in, so he can save what little bit of coin he has for food during the festivities of the next day.

Trying to find a safe place to sleep hidden from view: Survival Check 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27. Hopefully he can find a nice quiet alleyway or stoop to sleep on. With a Nat 20 He better find a nice sleepin spot!


Male Halforc Ranger 5

Kanyk makes his way slowly through the bustling crowds, keeping his eyes pointed down at his own booted feet to avoid any stares and muttering a swift apology to anyone he accidentally knocks or pushes. His height, bulk and the huge spiked hammer slung across his back allows him steady progress across the town toward the glowing windows of his destination.

Eventually Kanyk reaches what has, over the last few days of his stay in Sandpoint, become his favourite tavern. He enters and spends a pleasant few hours sat quietly on a bench, sipping on a tankard of ale and taking in the boisterous and friendly atmosphere of the place. Sitting with his back to the wooden wall he speaks only to order another ale and the closest he comes to conversation is a shake of the head when a lady of the night makes to approach him.

Having drunk his fill of both the atmosphere and the ale; Kanyk leaves the tavern and moves through the now dark town to camp on the wooded outskirts and await the festivities of the day to come.

Spent 12cp on the ale, that is about it for Kanyk's first day.


A little village was rather different from the streets of a city like Magnimar, Nieve thought. He had settled by the docks for today, to avoid the inquisitive and prejudiced eyes of the townsfolk; it fit him well. He enjoyed the crashing of waves more than the rustling of crowds. Elyn crawled down his side and curiously balanced on the ledge of the docks, peering into the sea.

"See anything interesting, Elyn?" he whispers with a smile, and he bends over to gaze as well. There was something with water that was soothing, and ever beautiful. His reflection was distorted by the waves, poorly reflecting the outlines of blonde hair. The weasel scuttled up to the half-elf, darting its way into the sleeve of his robe, and he bursts out laughing; the first laugh since...

He turns to the town, to admire the simplistic design of the streets and houses, before he makes his way to the inn where he had rented a room for the last couple of days. As a cloud cast a shadow in front of the setting sun, the town was washed in a wave of shadow; the town seemed cosier now, almost joyous. Anxious. The festival would begin tomorrow.

Beauty in all things, huh... There is a charm to a village like this.

6 gp spent for good lodging for three days, plus 1 gp on food for the last three days.


@ Gerlick:

Poverty seems to be a concept unknown to this heavenly place. Beggars? - negative report...wounded or sick people? - negative report...but, there is another injured man in Sandpoint. Naffer Vosk, the boneyard and carnel house keeper.

As the you pass the twon's cemetary, the man approaches you. He openly wears a golden pendant of Sarenrae that contrasts to his otherwise rather ragged clothes.

Hoi friend, you look like you could need a mug o' wine?!

@ Kanyk:

The silky night and the low sounds of the rolling ocean rock you gently into sleep...tomorrow will be a good day...or at least a warm one...

@ Nieve:

Nieve:

Me fish, me wants fish...can I catch, can I catch?

Wether or not your companion's desires are satisfied you return to the Rusty Dragon. Your inn of choice proved to be a very entertaining place during the last days. The proprietor, an exotic beauty with the name Ameiko Kaijitsu, loved to tell tales and sing songs from her familie;s home country Tian Xia until the early morning.

I'm in a hurry, more tomorrow.


Gerlick looks down at the pendant that the man is wearing and grimaces briefly. "I guess it would make sense that the keeper of the dead would pray to Sarenrae. To keep the undead away eh?" Gerlick glances around the dark cematary, looking at the gravestones and enjoying the quiet. When the man asks if Gerlick would like some wine, the oracle nods.

"That is more respect that I usually get. I would be happy to join a hard working man such as yourself in a glass of wine."


@ Gerlick:

The grave digger scratches his forehead and blinks into the sun

Keep the undead away...nah, I have to admit that I previously walked the...umm not so righteous path, heh.

He points to the stump, where his left hand should be located

But, Father Abstalar told me, it was never too late for a sinner to return to the good guys' camp, heh.

He opens a pack he had stored behind a tombstone, and hands you a bottle of wine and a wooden mug.

Drink my friend, it's free, heh...even for me, it's a gift from Father Abstalar.


Male Human Paladin 8

Karlan slept most of the long trip. Walking, hitching rides, sleeping under the stars, it was the first time he had ever had the opportunity to go alone. He wasn't terribly keen on direction though and did ocassionally get lost before some kindly old farmer or merchant would come along and put him on the right path again. He enjoyed riding in the wagons. It allowed him the chance to rest his legs and take a nap where he partook of his favorite activity of dreaming. In his dreams he'd be fighting monsters, rescuing nations, and bringing glory to Lastwall, his family, and of course himself.

His latest exploits in the realm of dreams was inerrupted by the gruff voice of the cart driver. "Oi, this is as close as I go! Oi, you owake!"

Karlan blinked and sat up in the back of the hay cart. A firty and hard looking man glared down at him. Karlan returned the glare with a warm smile. "Sandpoint already?"

The man shook his head. "Nay, just as far as I'm willin to go. Be off with ye!"

Karlan stretched and yawned. "Thank you good sir for your hospitality I'm sure her lady will grace you with fair riding the rest of your journey."

The man grunted non commitally and said nothing. As Karlan stretched and started down the road he said to himself with only the slightest hint of sarcasm, "What a pleasant man."

Walking into town he couldn't help but feel the stranger in a strange land. Sure, people spoke varisian here but looking around the clothes were brighter the people less, well, less like those from Lastwall. Maybe just more like Varisians? When he saw a strange creature like a cross between a rat and a small pig being led on a leash across the street he knew he was in strange lands.

He decided right away to get to work not wanting to hesistate in putting his skills to some good. It looked as if some festival was about to begin. Was some evil threatening these good folk about their festival? He could see to that.

Upon seeing the cathedral he counted the five gods and tried not to look disappointed at not seeing the holy symbol of Iomedae there. So he sought out the head priest of the temple and introduce himself properly.

Diplomacy to gather information on where I can find the priest1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13


Enjoying the hearth of the inn and the tales of Ameiko Kaijitsu, Nieve had gotten comfortable in one of the more lonesome corners, all while conversing with the proprietor. The way she twisted the stories appealed to the half-elf, and he remarked on how the sad songs always ended on an uplifting note; likewise, how the stories were never so clear-cut, twisting the hero to be the villain in the end. He laughed and smiled, forgetting who he was; so did everybody else, or he was convinced of such.

She has seen life. Maybe one day I can tell stories too.

"Thank you for the tales, Ms. Kaijitsu. Or... is it Mrs.? If I may." Nieve does a halfway bow forward with a hand on his chest, having had a glance outside; it was the darker night now, and he was admittedly excited about the festival tomorrow. "I was thinking of going to my room for some sleep. Though if I can offer my assistance in any way, I would love to show my gratitude for your stories."


Gerlick pours some of the wine into the cup, and hands the bottle back over to the digger. "Its been...a long time since someone gave me wine." The half-orc takes a small sip, enjoying the flavor. He sits quietly next to the older man quietly, simply enjoying friendly company for a change.

Reaching up absentmindedly, he scratches his face. Bits of skin fall off and as he drops his hand he accidently knocks his hood off, letting his destroyed face become visable. The only part of his face that is not peeling and cracking is the large green birthmark, a perfect copy of the holy symbol of Pharasma. Realizing what has happened Gerlick quickly draws his hood back up, and fidgets briefly.

"I don't suppose, sir keeper, that I could sleep somewhere here in the graveyard tonight? I enjoy the peace and quiet." He continues to drink his wine, but keeps his hands away from his face, hoping he has not scared his potential new friend.


@ Karlan:

As you walk across the square in front of the beautifully ornated cathedral building, you notice a man in flowing blue robes, who inspects the arched main entrance of the building. You wait patiently until he has taken some notes ere you approach him.
Before you can introduce yourself, the bearded man adresses you with a friendly and fatherly smile

Desna speed you, I'm sorry my son, but until tomorrow the cathedral will be closed.

@ Nieve:

Ameiko pats you on the shoulder and winks at you

It's still Ms. ...and that won't change anytime soon. You're here for the festival aren't you, I doubt I have seen you before you arrived this week.

Considering your offer, she raises her hands in mock defence

My guests working at my inn? What if everybody would start to do that?!

She smiles and invites you to another wine on the following evening.

@Gerlick:

A concerned expression flashes over his face, yet his tone doesn't mirror it

Sure, there is plenty of room next to my shed. An' should you need anything, jus' tell me.


Male Human Paladin 8
DM Zyren/ Heart of Runes wrote:

@ Karlan:

As you walk across the square in front of the beautifully ornated cathedral building, you notice a man in flowing blue robes, who inspects the arched main entrance of the building. You wait patiently until he has taken some notes ere you approach him.
Before you can introduce yourself, the bearded man adresses you with a friendly and fatherly smile

Desna speed you, I'm sorry my son, but until tomorrow the cathedral will be closed.

"Ah, I was actually ordered to report to the head priest in this city. I don't suppose you can tell me where I might find him?" Karlan smiled sheepishly and didn't add the part; on pain of savage beating, but Karthak said things like that a lot and he wasn't quite sure how that penalty would be administered with him so far away.


@ Karlan:

The bearded old fellow arches an eyebrow

The head priest, my son? There is only one priest in this town, which is by accident me. he laughs heartily and adds

Now, how can the head priest - just call me Father Abstalar - be of service to you?


Male Half Orc Rog5 Cav 3: HP:84/84, - AC: 21/T:14/FF:18 - Perception: +12(Dark Vision) F: +6/R: +8/W: +4 - CMB: +11 - CMD: 25, Speed: 30ft, Init: +2 (+4)

Harry steps up to the doorway of the run down farmhouse and visibly winces at the abundance of daylight evident outside. His muscles still pleasantly sore from yesterdays labouring in exchange for food and board, he hefts his club over a massive shoulder and moves out into the cobbled path towards the main road, destined for Sandpoint.

"Well Thumper, we're still stuck in this town for a while, but now we might stay in it for a while instead of outside it, but the question is..." Harry pauses to chomp on whats left of his cigar with a pensive look of deep thought, "how long you reckon before we get back to enjoying a comfortable room and some decent food?". Thumper looks back at harry quizzically in that way that only canines can.

Harry tidies up his appearance as best he can. At least his clothes are now freshly laundered and roughly repaired, the holes darned and patched; he has enjoyed a good wash and a clean shave and looks quite upbeat and optimistic.

"There's a festival, there's laden wagons, and there's lots of travellers with lots of valuables; Thumper my dear boy, I believe this means work is to be had"

Harry wanders into Sandpoint, keeping an eye out for people who might be looking to hire on a strong back or a hard stare. The fact that he only owns a large stick is not lost on him...


Nieve smiles and bows down again. "I would be honoured for some wine tomorrow eve. But I need to rest my eyes now. Do have a pleasant evening."

He says his goodnights to Ameiko before he heads to his room, careful to lock the door as he enters. He slips out of his cloak and heavier clothes, slipping onto the bed that was oddly comfortable. Elyn jumps up on his chest and curls up by his stomach. Nieve scratches the weasel behind his ears. "Get some sleep, Elyn."

Sleep never came for him. The weasel made all manners of quiet sounds, but it was the daydreams that kept Nieve awake, wondering what it would be like to walk the streets as a hero, to fight monsters and the villain, to...

When he wakes up, it is early morning.


Male Half Orc Rog5 Cav 3: HP:84/84, - AC: 21/T:14/FF:18 - Perception: +12(Dark Vision) F: +6/R: +8/W: +4 - CMB: +11 - CMD: 25, Speed: 30ft, Init: +2 (+4)

As Harry wanders, he looks to see if there is any bareknuckle boxing tents, arm wrestles, strongman competitions or the like - the sort of place where a rough man might earn a quick purse in exchange for a bit of bloody work or tough work. The type of work to which he is no stranger.

The big man and his big dog trying to play down both their brutishness and menace as they stroll the refined village.


Male Human Paladin 8
DM Zyren/ Heart of Runes wrote:

@ Karlan:

The bearded old fellow arches an eyebrow

The head priest, my son? There is only one priest in this town, which is by accident me. he laughs heartily and adds

Now, how can the head priest - just call me Father Abstalar - be of service to you?

Karlan looked a bit sheepish as he scratched the back of his head. This isn't how he expected this meeting to go, "My name is Ka..Sir Karlan of the paladins of Iomedae. I was ordered to come here andreport to whatever religious authority was in charge."

"A letter was sent ahead of me?". He said hopefully.


Seeing the expression of the digger, Gerlick lets out a chuckle. "Oh don't worry, I am not contagious. Rather, this is my payment for my sin. Much like your hand." Looking out over the quiet graves, Gerlick takes another sip of his wine. "While I hope you can repay your sin to the gods, I am not so sure they would care much. Then again, I am a pessimist. I am of the opinion that the gods hate us. I mean, just look at me."

Gerlick stands, and finishes his wine. "You have shown me uncommon kindness Mr Keeper. If you need any healing or assistance please let me know. I am not physically strong mind you, but I am trained in healing arts both magical and non magical, and I would like to repay the debt I owe you now. I am going to go sleep, so just let me know otherwise."

With that, the half-orc bows and wanders over to the shed. He quickly makes himself a bed using his pack and bedroll, and starts to drift to sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning refreshed, he will visit the grave keeper again, thank him, and assuming the grave keeper needs no assistance at the moment, head down into Sandpoint to view the festivities.


Male Halforc Ranger 5

Kanyk awakes just as the sun appears over the horizon, he dismantles his makeshift camp with practised ease, leaving only a small patch of scorched ground where he had set a small fire the previous night. Shouldering his pack he heads back across the bridge and into Sandpoint.
A quick glance in his coin pouch tells him that he'd soon need to find work or begin hunting again. With that in mind he heads toward the centre of the town, on the lookout for any unloaded wagons or other signs of possible help needed.


OK guys, just to bring us all to one level (time-wise) I have to cut some things short.

The last happenings of the 30th of Arodus

@ Karlan:

The old priest of Desna seems to ponder about the pieces of information he had completely forgotten

Ha, the letter, yes yes. So then you're Kartha's fosterling, mhh? Good that you made it here boy, I can need your assistance during all the flurry tomorrow. Since I doubt that you have already found a place to spend the night, you can just stay at the cathedral.
For now I have to disappoint and leave you, since there are alot of complicated matters to attend...
he seems a bit forlorn as his gaze wanders over to the impressive new building...

Just meet me at dawn tomorrow...right here in front of the cathedral.

I will now just assume that you have moved into your chamber at the cathedral and rested for the rest of the day.

@ Gerlick:

Naffer Vosk nods and gives you the rest of the bottle (half full) as a present.

Sleep well mate, see you tomorrow at the festival.

@ Harry:

I'll just skip your 30th of Arodus and use your actions for the 1st of Rova, hope you don't mind.

1st of Rova-Swallowtail Festival

The first of Rova - the first day of autumn...yet summer seems not intimidated at all. Big and bright the sun stands above the small coastal town and sends warm wake-up calls in everyone's bedrooms. Today is a Sunday, so there is no working, nevertheless the men at the sawmill still have to pull the timber out of the slowly flowing Turandarok River to avoid backwater.
On the other side of the town, the Varisian Gulf, devoid of shipping boats is a rare but beautiful sight. In fact it's quite hard to gaze at the sea without having to blink, since the white cliffs reflect the sunlight and even enhance its blinding effect.

Already before dawn, the first stands and stalls have been set up and as you awake the whole town is again in a state of chaotic anticipation. You hear that the consecration of the cathedral is scheduled for late afternoon, after Mayor Kendra Deverin, Sheriff Belor Hemlock and Father Abstalar Zantus have held speeches (yet most Sandpoint natives expect a speech of Cyrdak Drokkus, the proprietor of Sandpoint's theatre, too).

The people who roam the streets of Sandpoint this morning, are colourfully clothed and joyful of spirit. You notice large groups of native Varisians, the women wearing skirts in red, orange and green, the men calico bandanas.

@ Harry:

As you reach the marketplace (SM 35) you notice a ring of sawdust and a group of heavily muscled Varisians around it.

Knowledge Local 10 / DC 20 if untrained:

Varisians are known for their interest in traditional wrestling fights.

@ Kanyk:

You reach the marketplace (SM 35) even earlier as Harry and as you arrive most stands and stalls are still not set-up. This could be your moment to lend a helping hand.

@ Karlan:

You awake in your small chamber in the cathedral (SM 1). It's totally quiet and the spiritual energy of the place is nearly graspable. It must be about dawn, so you're not too late for your early appointment with Father Abstalar.

@ Gerlick:

The first sunrays that sweep over your face restore your life energy and pull you out of your slumber. Naffer's shed (SM 2) is still totally quiet und you doubt that the gravedigger has already awakened.

@ Nieve:

Before the Rusty Dragon (SM 37) awakes, Elyn is already hungry enough to squeak...that's it for today' sleep as it seems...


Gerlick stands and stretches, and begins packing up his gear. Holding the bottle of wine separate, he eyes it briefly and then packs it up with everything else How heavy is the bottle? :/.

The half-orc then makes sure his hood is up before leaving quietly out of the graveyard, making his way into town proper. He looks around trying to find where the main events of the festival will be taking place. He does this quietly, simply watching where people congregate, staying to the edges of the crowds and in the shadows. Once he finds where the main events will be held, he finds himself a nice spot in the shadows and conceals himself, watching the crowd but trying to make sure his presence is unknown.

Untrained Stealth Check - 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10


Waking up to the muffled rustling of the town outside, and the soft squeaks of Elyn's hungry self, Nieve yawns and sits upright, giving the weasel a rub behind the ears. The night had gone by a lot quicker than he expected, and now it was to enjoy the festival. He stretches his shoulders and upper body, rising from his bed.

After feeding Elyn, Nieve spends ten minutes to wash his face and braid his hair. He finds the festival clothes he had brought from home: the right sleeve alternates between Shelyn's colours up until the shoulder and part of the chest, while white silk makes up the rest of the shirt, which has no left sleeve. He dons a pair of dark-blue breeches, and steps into his travelling sandals.

"Well, Elyn, are you ready for festivities?" The weasel crawls up his leg and up to his shoulder, nipping affectionately on his face. He strings his spell-pouch and his small bag of gold to the belt, making sure his shirt covers them.

I wonder what food is available. I should ask Ameiko, if she is to be found in the entrance or by the hearth.

He heads out of his room, careful to lock the door, ready to join the festivities.


The bottle weighs one pound...you have to drink it fast, I guess :-)

Gerlick tries to melt with the shadows, yet it seems like this is a hard task on such a sunny day.

In the end he takes cover behind a pile of barrels next to the Sandpoint Meat Market (SM 36) in Mud Street. From there he can overwatch the marketplace (SM 35) easily, where most of the day's action will take place.


@ Nieve:

As you descend down into the taproom, you hear clattering sounds from the kitchen - seems like you're not the only early bird at the Rusty Dragon.

Perception DC 15:

You smell eggs and bacon from the kitchen-maybe there is already breakfast to get.

Besides the sounds from the kitchen, you can also make out hammering sounds from the marketplace that lies in front of the tavern. Through the windows you can observe that lots of workers, fishers and other inhabitants of the Lost Coast's Jewel (fig. for Sandpoint) industriously work on the setting-up of stands and stalls.


Taking cover behind the barrels, Gerlick simply watches the proceedings quietly, resting his elbows on the barrels.

Yay only 1lb! That means I am still in light load...barely. Do me a favor and if you give me anything I need the weight...since its such a big deal 0_o


Perception roll.
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

When Nieve enters the taproom, the smell of bacon immediately catches his attention. Elyn seems equally excited, skittering back and forth across his neck. He glances to the kitchen, trotting over to the doorway, and he peers in.

"Pardon? I was wondering if there was any breakfast to be had."


Peering into the kitchen you behold a stout halfling girl, with hazel-brown hair bound to a single thick braid. Standing on a stool she operates four different pans simultaneously.

As you ask for breakfast, she gives you a friendly smile and says

Oh yeah for sure, I mean umm pretty soon. Just seat yourself at the bar, I'll be with you in a minute or two!


"Thank you kindly." He smiles back before he heads to the bar, settling down on the closest available stool. While waiting, he glances out the windows.


Male Human Paladin 8

Oh man this nearly hundred pounds of gear is just under my light load and is quite tiring let me just put some of this down for a bit...

Karlan awoke from his rather more vivid than normal dreams with a yawn. Yes, the place certainly did have a power to it without even having taken a single service or sermon. It was just a shame they did not cater to his god. Still, he gave his morning prayers and duties to Iomedae before thoroughly washing himself, a ritual as much about habit as cleanliness. With that he came to a difficult decision as to whether or not he should go armed into town. He settled on leaving much of his gear behind including the sturdy shortbow that had been his hunting companion for so long. He brought along his armor and weapons as a matter of etiquette, after all a paladin was defined by his readiness to strike down evil.

He felt surprisingly light without the near hundred pounds worth of gear holding him down. He had carried it for so long and so far he felt somewhat naked without its burden on his shoulders. In any case he wore his holy syumbol outside of his armor before meeting with Father Abstalar.

He briefly mused on the subject of what tasks he'd be given. The slaying of evil creatures? The preaching of sermons? The quest for some relic to make the festival go off with a hitch?

With these hopes in mind he went out to meet with the priest.


@ Karlan:

Much too often high ambitions are shattered by the daily needs.
There are no monsters to kill, no faith to restore no nothing - just Father Abstalar with a box of nails and a large hammer.

Oh good that you're awake son, you can help me built our stand.

He hands you the hammer and the nails and points to the centre of the town.

Please, go over to our stand at the marketplace and set it up. I'll join you in an hour or so.

@ Nieve:

It takes about ten minutes until the halfling chef approaches your table with a tray full of scrambled eggs and bacon.

Hey, me name's Bethana, I'm the heart and soul of the Rusty Dragon. What's your name boy and where do you come from?


"It is a pleasure, Bethana! My name is Nieve Lo..."

The syllable rolls off of his tongue as he glances down for a second. He wasn't a Lovesworn anymore, and his smile faltered slightly. He looked up again.

"I am Nieve, and I've come from Magnimar."


Male Halforc Ranger 5

Knowledge local 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Kanyk strolls into the marketplace and pauses to take a look around. A small smile floats momentarily across his face at the sight of all the unfinished stands, his habit of rising early having paid off. He makes a quick circuit of the stalls, stopping at one with a wagon piled high with boxes and clears his throat to attract the attention of the man straining to haul a large barrel from the wagon bed.
"Err, couldn't helping noticing you've got a lot of goods there, any chance you've need of a strong pair of arms to help unloading them? I'll unload the entire wagon in no time at all and all I want in exchange is breakfast."


Male Half Orc Rog5 Cav 3: HP:84/84, - AC: 21/T:14/FF:18 - Perception: +12(Dark Vision) F: +6/R: +8/W: +4 - CMB: +11 - CMD: 25, Speed: 30ft, Init: +2 (+4)

Local (untrained) 1d20 ⇒ 19

"Hmmm a sawdust ring eh? pretty universal sign of the sort of place I'm after, lets go find out what thats about"

Harry wanders over to see what the event is, and how it all works.


Male Human Paladin 8

Karlan tried his hardest not to look disappointed, and failed. Without protest he solemnly went to the spot as directed holding hammer and nails as if bearing a great burden.


@ Nieve:

The sturdy halfling woman doesn't seem to notice your mishap.

From Magnimar? she is obviously impressed

The fabled City of Monuments? Uuuh, you have to tell me everything about your life there!

She seats herself opposite you and waits for you to tell her about your home city.

@ Kanyk:

The man, a bearded fellow of Ulven heritage, eyeballs you for a short moment

Mead and fish, that's my offer, boy. then he hands you a small but heavy crate.

Three strength checks please.

@ Harry:

As you approach the sawdust ring, one of the brawny Varisians points at you and his companions burst out laughing...there must have been some kind of insult... Then he walks over to you and alls of his movements are testament of his self-confidence. With his full bass voice he adresses you in Varisian

Varisian:

Get off Tusky, t'is no place for Sissys!

@ Karlan:

The marketplace is already a place bustling with activity. You soon find the stand of the church of Desna...but...mhhh..not quite a stand, rather a pile of planks.

Please roll a Knowledge Engineering Dc 5 / untrained 10 check.


Male Human Paladin 8

Approaching the pile of planks cautiously he gulped and muttered to himself. "Ok Karlan this isn't difficult it's just a pile of wood you have to hammer into a specific shape. It can't be that difficult...just like crafting a fine sword."

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12


As Gerlick stands behind his barrel wall, he takes out a loaf of bread from his pack, along with the remaining wine, and takes small bites and sips from each. He continues to watch the people working hard on setting up the festivities, marvelling at the industrious nature of man.


Male Halforc Ranger 5

Strength checks
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 71d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 181d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Well that first crate was a lot heavier than it looked.

"Fish and mead sounds good" Kanyk replies, accepting the box into outstretched arms. Not expecting such a small box to be so weighty he nearly topples forward and staggers for a second before regaining his balance and carrying the heavy box over to the man's stall. After that first fumble Kanyk quickly gets into the swing of the work, hoisting box after box out of the back of the wagon and to the stall.


@ Kanyk:

As you have finished helping to unload the wagon, the man slaps you on your back

Good job lad, me name's Bjorn, Bjorn Thunderclap.

He sweeps the sweat from his forehead and blinks into the sun.

The weather is weird, isn't it, the sun seems to believe we are in Geb, heh.

@ Karlan:

Impressive: Without much knwoledge of work like that you are able to put the planks together to a nice and robust stand. Shortly after you have finished your work, Father Abstalar arrives at the marketplace.

Well done Karlan. Now, please, would you bring this parchment to Brodert Quink? he hands you a sheet of parchment and simultaneously turns around to greet a passerby.

@ Gerlick:

please roll a perception check.


Perception Check Roll - 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17 Lets see what I see!


Male Human Paladin 8
DM Zyren/ Heart of Runes wrote:

@

Well done Karlan. Now, please, would you bring this parchment to Brodert Quink? he hands you a sheet of parchment and simultaneously turns around to greet a passerby.

Karlan smiled brightly at the compliment and then when handed the parchment he goes. "Who?"


@ Karlan:

Already occupied with shaking hands and making compliments, Father Abstalar only says

Brodert Quink boy, I said Brodert Quink.

@ Gerlick:

Besides the many industrious people you notice a tense scene at the western end of the marketplace. A muscled half-orc and his hound have encountered a group of cocky Varisians. You can feel that the situation is pretty close to explode...maybe a healer is needed sooner than you expected...


Male Human Paladin 8
DM Zyren/ Heart of Runes wrote:

@ Karlan:

Already occupied with shaking hands and making compliments, Father Abstalar only says

Brodert Quink boy, I said Brodert Quink.

Smiling stiffly he turns from the priest.

"Well then...either I find the man...or woman...or get lost forever." Sighing, he did the only thing open to him. He asked for directions.

Diplomacy to gather information: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12


@ Karlan:

Brodert Quink seems to be some sort of sage...yet rather one of the eccentric sort. He lives in a small house at the norhern end of Sandpoint (SM8).


Gerlick finishes his bread and wine, and puts the bottle near the barrels. He then wanders over to where the large half orc and Varsians are and speaks, in common.

"What is going on here? Is today not a festive day? Surely no trouble should be caused..." He directs this mostly to the humans.

Diplomacy Check 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22 and if this doesn't work, well, there is always the scare factor. :)


If you really intend to scare someone you should use intimidate :-)

@ Gerlick and Harry:

The man just glimpses at you, then his jaw drops and his gaze slowly wanders back to you.

What? I mean...who are you? This is none of your business, man. And you... he points directly into the half-orc's face

Are you here for a fight or just for staring?


Actually I was trying to be friendly.

Gerlick bristles slightly and tugs his hood closer to his face trying to hide it. "Well, I personally am not here to fight or anything. I can heal you all if you intend to fight." Gerlick shrugs, and then says something in Orcish, looking at Harry.

Orcish Translation:

"Do you intend to fight these people? Why?"


"You...you want me to talk about... my life?" he asks; the halfling's curious face is momentarily forgotten when his stomach rumbles and the breakfast is mighty inviting. He smiles meekly as he takes a bite of the bacon.

"Well, there's little to say, I rarely left my street. I...rarely left my home, actually. I wasn't... liked much." He sighs a little, and Elyn lessens in cheer. "But there's always life on the street. Every morning, merchants ring their bells..."

Deliberately avoiding anything pertaining his life, he focuses more on the city itself: describing the wonders of the Bazaar of Sails, and all the interesting (and frightening) sights one could see in the free market; the Dockway and its myriad of ships that came in all varieties; the bustling Lowcleft, which he thought one of the most beautiful streets to wander through with all the artists; by the time he had finished his food he had rambled on for a long time about the Seerspring Gardens, not mentioning how much he missed the smell of the flowers while his mother would tend to the garden with the other priestesses...


Male Human Paladin 8
DM Zyren/ Heart of Runes wrote:

@ Karlan:

Brodert Quink seems to be some sort of sage...yet rather one of the eccentric sort. He lives in a small house at the norhern end of Sandpoint (SM8).

Karlan made the trip to the mans home, admiring the sites around him. People here seemed so much more free here than they did at home. Granted his nation was founded on military principles so stoicness and orderliness were sometimes jsut a given. Barring any interruptions he knocks on the sages door.


@ Nieve:

Bethana listens to you, mouth open, eyes wide - after you have ended, she calls out

Oh this is just so cool. Hmmm... she sighs and looks out of the window into the distance...

@ Karlan:

Finding the Quink's home is not a big thing. The small house close to the strange rumbled monument at Sandpoint's northwestern corner is well kept and you hear someone humming from inside.

A moment after you knocked the door is opened and a balding man in his seventees with large glasses eyeballs you curiously

Whom do we have here?

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