GM Shathira's Wrath of the Righteous

Game Master Kelarith

Grey Garrison

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Kenabres Before the Fall
Kenabres After the Fall

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Iolana starts off with a challenging strut, taking a strong step on the two hard beats and her hips moving side to side on the soft ones. As she continues, her arms raise and begin to sway, moving in such a way that they create a tinkling melody to the rhythm as she moves. She progressively moves more and more until her body is constantly in motion, spinning and undulating, swaying and sashaying to the beat and music. It's easy to tell that if she was in a bar she would be doing far more than she is now with the families around. As she reaches the end of the dance she finishes with a challenging strut and on the last beat throws her head back and kneels.

As she stands again she produces a basket which she sets on the ground. looking around,she spots Fabian, the first to take the beat and the one she notices is most interested in joining. "Did you like that neighbors," she asks in a thick Varisian accent, "Then why don't you join me? If anyone has an instrument and would like to join, please do, I am talented true, but music makes it all teh more fun and brings the urge in others to join. this is a day for merriment, eat, dance, and enjoy!" There are people who produce instruments, a lute and a set of pipes and join in, with the crowd keeping the beat as she begins again. Dancing once more, she makes her way to Fabian, grabbing his hands and trying to pull him out of the crowd into a dance.


Hearing someone call out to a dwarf, and realizing he is the only dwarf about Gramlag turns to see a human woman looking right at him, approching her he asks "Are you speaking to me lass? I would indeed love a chance in the ring!" Gramlag said with excitement in his voice "till this time in my life ive only sparred with my clan bretheren and it would be a great chance at learning how people of other lands fight" the thought of a friendly sparring match bring a glint to his eye

"Do you live in this large city lass?" He asked quizically"Ive come from my clan home and I know very little of the city yet, perhaps after my chance in the ring if we can swing that you could tell me more of this area." Gramlag said, hoping not to miss the opertunity to make friends in the town "Id like to know more about this worldwound that plagues this area, my clan is rather sheltered and i know only a little of the greater world"


Walking among the crowds, a joyous and festive attitude in the air, Piousa practically can smell the fun in the air (it was actually sweet pies and mead, but it was close enough). She looks about, seeing scholars giving lessons so those listening may learn from other's mistakes and accomplishments. Crusaders give mock battles for the enjoyment of those watching, a bard standing nearby to regale the crowd with a blow-by-blow of the battle that they were meant to be seeing.

And of course, there were the clerics and paladins of Iomedae, out in full force and regalia. Everywhere she looked she saw the Inheritor's emblem flying. Her hand goes her pendant, a silver holy symbol to the Starsong, Desna. A shame that Desna's faith is not much more widespread. But may gentle dreams fill their minds for Armasse and longer.

As she makes her rounds, stopping to watch a play or hear of some battle from the early stages of the Crusade, sh hears a dwarf speaking from nearby. "Oh, a newcomer to Mendev then?" She smiles at the dwarf kindly. "Give it time, the Worldwound is a place I would not dare send my worst enemy, my friend. Mendev though, and Kenabres in particular, are at least civilized." Looking over to the tourney at hand, she smiles.

"Tell me of your land, for as you, I know little else than what news newcomers to the Crusade tell of the outside world. I dream of travelling far and wide one day, but for now, Kenabres needs me as much as I need it. Are you, perhaps, from the Five King's Mountains?"


It seems the friendly folk of this city are the lasses Gramlag thinks to himself "Aye lass i do" He said replying to the kind woman who looked dressed to be a priest or cleric of some sort"Let me introduce meself to you kind ladies, i am Gramlag Rockfist From the clan of the steel wall." He said with a bow

"our clan home is on the far northern reaches of the Five kings, my clan isnt large but we make fine wares, finer ale and some of the finest warriors if i say so meself. we pride ourselves on our work with shields, i think personally two is better than one and can use them better than a man uses a sword, its a tallent i hope to display sooner rather than later and perhaps with some cheering fans" he said with a grin.

"this fine lady here was offering me the chance to speak with the man who runs the sparing matches and see i cant be entered for meself" he said with a noticeable amount of excitement in his voice "would you care to come watch? while these are not to the death im sure to get a scratch or two and a pair of hand to dress my wounds afterward would be appriciated" he asked the curious girl since she showed interest in him as well.

turning to look at the first woman who called his name he said "shall we be off then? id love a match earlyer rather than later if we could, get me blood pumping then go for a tour of the rest of the events around town before sunset"

Silver Crusade

"Are you sure there are no patrols I can join?" the ghastly grating voice asks.

The Sergeant sighed. "No, it's Armasse, boy! Go out and enjoy yourself!" He shook his head as the towering armored figure left.

Entering the square, Xantrius' helm swivels back and forth as he scans the crowd. Most people quickly move out of the way of the massive armored figure and there are a few curious glances at the black rose of Pharasma embossed on his shield.

Spying a small knot of people in a circle, he moves closer in time to catch the end of the young woman's dance. He nods to the rhythm briefly before it ends, thinking the music of the bells would go well with one of his mother's songs. When she calls for others to join, he moves away quickly, knowing he would not be welcome.

He hears a bit of conversation between warriors nearby and hastens towards them. "Good day! My pardon for intruding, Sir Gramlag, but were you just speaking of some practice? I would enjoy sparring if I am welcome to join you! I am known as Xantrius."


Hrm.. Godwin is surprised by the very forward dancer but tries to clap around gamely as others in the crowd jump in far faster than he does.

Perform Untrained: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

And messes it up enough that he almost breaks the rhythm of the rest of the crowd but it's not nearly enough to dissuade the dancer or throw her off her dance. Godwin's eyes widen though at the risqué performance. After it ends he offers her some diplomatic advice in what he hopes is a friendly manner.

That was certainly an eye catching display my lady. Although perhaps not well suited for Kenabres outside of Armasse

Turning away he runs into the warpriest who had hailed him earlier and the dwarf she was conversing with.

Hail and well met, sister. It seems you may know the city better than I do though I grew up here. I take it you are native to Kenabres as well? I received my tutelage in a guardpost fortress just outside of the city and had no need to venture out until my training was complete, stunting my familiarity with the city I fear, otherwise I am sure we would have run across each other before. Expanding his comments to include the other two people he says. Will you be joining the sparring sessions like our Pharasman and Dwarven friends? I admit that I do not feel confident enough in my skill to do anything but observe this year... and I would certinaly not dare to call on our Goddess Iomedae for divine aid with a mock battle meant to amuse


Zoren stood to the side of the Plaza taking in the alien surroundings. A week ago he would not have believed it if anyone had told him he would be in Kenebras, yet here he was. A chill ran down his spine and into his tail tucked underneath his cloak. It was born of the realization that without her intervention a week ago he would likely have been drawing his blades and trying to fight his way free. Now he stood idly by and watched the different areas with interest.

Closest to him was a group dancers with a woman taking the lead. she had a natural grace and timing that kept most people entranced. Apparently though her judge of character was flawed as the dance partner she chose stumbled awkwardly. Yet none cared in the festive atmosphere. Zoren couldn't help but tap his foot to the music himself. He wanted to join in but didn't know how he could live with himself after his previous life. Instead he approached and tossed a few coins in the basket as a way to appease both halves of him. Forcing a smile to his face in an attempt to enjoy the celebration even if he did not fully understand Zoren started to ease up a bit. After all no one was accosting him and he was safe even if he was uncomfortable here. Looking around he speaks aloud towards Godwin without intending it. Where is the basket for yourself? Even though she was better of the pair, you still were willing to participate.

After speaking though the know grew tighter in his stomach as he brought attention to himself. Fool. These people are strangers to you and you are unaccustomed to their life styles. Now just relax and watch and learn.


Flynn begins his day, getting dressed for the Festival. There are tears in his eyes as he dons the tabard of a Paladin of Iomedae. He lovingly brushes it down over his simple scale mail armor, then belts on his weapons. He has a dark metal flail hanging at his waist, along with three small throwing hammers along the back. A silvery dagger balances the flail on the other side, along with a heavy wooden shield embossed with the sun and sword of his chosen Lady. A longsword hangs down his back, the sheathe strapped under his backpack.

They laugh at me sometimes, for wearing my pack everywhere, along with all of my gear. But when the time comes, and we are miles from safety and our lives may depend on what we carry, I will be accustomed to having the weight burden me. They won't be laughing then. At least I hope I get chosen to go.

His thoughts are interrupted as an old man carrying a little boy wanders into the Temple Smithy...
" You should spend some time with Io, Flynn. I mean YOU are his father after all....." Again Baraak the old caregiver tries to weedle Flynn with the knowledge.
Flynn takes the boy into his arms for a tight hug, before handing him back.
" Baraak I would like nothing better than to take the two of you around and enjoy the festival. Buuut.... Commander Cobelen has me making the rounds, keeping the peace. He even has me wearing the uniform, which some still feel I have disgraced, myself included. I must admit it makes me happy to be wearing it again, tho. Here go buy yourself and the boy some hot meat pies for breakfast and I will see you later." He hands the old man some coins as he starts to walk away.
" And stop spoiling him so much. He needs to be tough to be one of the next generation of knights."

Walking his paces around the Festival, Flynn sees much and little at the same time. His eyes see all that happens, but his mind is turned inward to recent events at the Temple.

Commander Cobelen actually said I should wear my tabard over my armor, something I haven't worn in over a year. The shocked looks on the other knights faces was incredibly gratifying. To be accepted again is a great feeling, even if it is just the one man, he's the Commander.

As he makes his rounds, Flynn notices the group making music and dancing. Blushing furiously as the dance continues he quickly turns away, and almost bumps into a group talking about sparring.
" Hail and well met." He says with a nod to the Warpriests of Iomedae.
Formidable looking warriors. Of the Inheritor no less, though of a different sect than mine...
"Good morning to you , sir." He says with a glance at the armored servant of Pharasma.
" If it's fighting your truly after, I expect to see you in line to join the next Crusade!"
Turning he gives a short bow to Piousa.
" Hello and health to you, Lady of the Stars. Enjoying the festivities?"
Looking at the dwarf he smiles and continues..
" So , if you don't mind me asking, how do you fight with just shields?"


Fomiel was surprised he passed through the crowd with little notice. Earlier during the day he had to leave a local inn as the bartender and the patrons seemed to take his presence as an ill omen. Their suspicion quickly escalated to downright hostility, and he managed to escape with piece of bread snatched from a table as he departed.

Hearing the beat, Fomiel remembered the words he had spoken at many a court dance. 'Sadly, I took a nasty fall from a horse at a young age. I lost my ability to dance. It is lucky I can walk.'

Still he wandered close to the music and then began to walk in circles, a wistful expression on his face. Circling around the edges of the music in a lazy orbit, the comely courtier walked with purpose if not grace. Seemingly caught in the gravity of the lively beat, Fomiel felt he was once again the detached observer.

Lantern Lodge

Journey to the City:
Selindra did her best to keep in step as their small unit made their way into the city. Only a dozen strong, paladins and clerics and others making their pilgrimage north. This marked their beginning of the year of battle, a rite of passage among those devout to Iomedae. It is customary for those of the faith to travel the river road north, and to serve for at least a period of one year shoulder to shoulder with the crusaders of Mendev, and this year would be no exception. What she did not expect, however, was a joyous festival to herald their arrival.

After a quick head count, the captain dismissed the recruits, giving them what gate to report to, and told that they would have two days of respite in the city before their patrol schedule would begin. Selindra barely heard him though, as she started to walk into the city like a small child would into a vast temple sanctuary. The city seemed to make her feel so small in its scope. She had spent most of her life at the temple, and there was barely fifty people there between the clerics and high priests, the paladins, the servants and others. When she had heard that Kenebras was a small city, she thought maybe a couple hundred people. She stared in wonder, as the city of over twelve thousand lay out before her, and was totally lost in just the sight of it.

"Private, a bit shy to experience the big city?" Sir Gareth was always a kind mentor, and he approached her after the rest had dispersed. "Come now, let's go see what we can find." Without so much as another word he led them into the city.

Selindra nodded, hoisting her pack and following. "Sir..., its huge! I mean..., how do all these people live together?"

Sir Gareth laughed as they started to walk down the main street, after entering the southern gate. "There is much you still have to learn, young one. This is a small city, compared with the likes of Absalom, or Neroysian, or even some of the national capitals. Places like these tend to challenge faith even more than in the small temples and villages you are used to."

As the pair walked, about halfway to the gate of New Kenebras, they stumbled across the marketplace in the southern part of the city. They start to mingle about, looking at various wares, and shops giving away small tokens for the festival of Armasse, and also to advertise their fare for both the crusaders and those brave enough to live there.

Gareth looks about and smiles to her. "Why don't you just walk around for a while, and get to know the place. Meet me at the gate to New Kenebras around evenfeast, and I'll show you a place where we can get some good food and a restful nights sleep. Then we can see about getting you some proper gear for the patrols."

Selindra looked a little shy, but nodded and started to make her way through the market, running her hand through her fire red hair to try and work out some of her frustration. I have no idea why he suggest that I always try to go around by myself..., I always feel so lost in places like this, with so many people and things...

She stopped when she started to notice a pair dancing, and a small crowd starting to gather. She set her slightly heavy pack down on the ground, and rested her shield atop it, finding a hay bale to sit on while she watched them. How do people learn to move like that I wonder?

She started to ponder it until she saw the man try and dance with her, and fail miserably. She started laughing quite heartily, not really realizing that others might overhear her doing so.

When the mentioning of sparring came up, Selindra became quite intrigued. She moved up to the group and marveled. "Are you all here to join the Crusade as well? Is that why we are going to spar? There isn't even really room to do that sort of thing here. So what did you have in mind?"


It's great to see so many familiar faces here! Now, let's see if I can get my "grumpy old man" hat on...

An enormous Ulfen man at the stables finishes brushing down his heavy bay horse, straightening to his full height of six and a half feet. The horse snorts, bumping her nose agains his hip, and he mimics the noise as he tucks the brush in one saddlebag. As he rubs the white blaze on the immense beast's face, he speaks in a low rumble.

"Steady, old girl. You just stay here and wait for me." He looks up, judging the position of the sun, before locking eyes with the horse again. "I'll be back in two hours for the joust. And while I'm gone," he holds up one finger warningly, tapping her nose lightly. "Play nice."

--------------------

He walks through the streets of Kenabres, watery blue eyes taking in the sights. Here were some children playing a game; there was a young couple holding hands and exchanging shy glances. He forces a smile and a nod to those who meet his eye, and at one point stoops to help a wisp of a girl, no older than six, to her feet after she comes tearing around a corner and runs headlong into his leg, falling over from the sudden stop.

He cuts an imposing figure as he continues on his way, broad and bulky, with a longsword on his hip and an immense shield on his back. In faded paint, the symbol of Pharasma spirals into a polished steel boss, carved with the likeness of a silver dragon. His helm stays under one arm, revealing a creased face framed by a shaggy mane of golden-red hair and a matching beard. The lines in his face betray him as being well into middle-age, though he holds himself tall.

Music reaches his ears. A lively tune, one that has him reaching for a memory. The memory of a young woman dancing around a campfire, twirling her scarf around his neck, laughing as she drank deeply of the wine they were sharing...

He follows the sound through the streets, eventually finding the group surrounding the dancer, a dusky-skinned young woman dressed in vibrant fabrics. He reaches into the leather purse at his belt, produces a few coins, and tosses them into the basket without checking their value.

There were others here, as well - a young man with a horizontal horns like a bull stood nearby, The old warrior barely seems to notice the scowl crossing his face as he turns away, glancing over the group of warriors behind him.

"All this talk of sparring, yet where are the jousters?" he asks, a smile playing at the corners of his old eyes. "I would like to know who I can expect to face!"


Iolana is about to try and get the bull-headed man to try when she noticies Selindra laughing at her current partner. Iolana's expresion goes from fun to a fiery look of anger, "Laugh if you like, but at least he tries." Her look becomes challenging, "Do you think you could do better? Come dance with me and prove it or prove the cowardice in your heart and refuse the challenge."


Before he turns away to the group of warriors Godwin is honestly nonplussed at the tense looking man's offer of coin and then laughs good naturedly. The Goddess forbid that I get paid for what I just tried to do. No any donation should go to the lady.. Then he raises his large hands in a show of mock surrender as the dancer scolds what seemed like a young watching girl Please, I have never been accused of a lack of courage but foolishness is another matter entirely. And what are fools for if not to be laughed at? And we all know what they say about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread He tips the dancer a mischievous wink with his glowing angelic eye and gives the girl a warm smile before retreating I think I will leave you two to your dance. Have a good Armasse my ladies.

Liberty's Edge

Liath introduces herself and shakes the hand of Grimlag Rockfist and Xantrius Kaleson. As her hand touches Xantrius's gauntlet, she seems to stiffen, and stare intently into his helm. But, unable to pierce the darkness, she shrugs it off.

Liath waves over a handsome young man burnished scale. The man's name is Johann, and is a frequenter of Liath's temple. Liath gave First Rites to his first son two months ago. "This is Blade-Sergeant Johann," she says to her gathering crowd. "He is in charge of one-on-one mock battles at this pavilion." She takes his offered papyrus and grease pen and marks the names of Grimlag and Zantrius in the queue.

"Blade-Sergeant, for the glory of Armasse, this mighty dwarf and this towering armored giant wish to engage in honorable combat. See that they are well treated, and put their names at the head for the reenactment of Terendelev's Stand."

She hands off the parchment and turns to return the pleasantries of Godwin.

In answer to his question, she waves in the general direction of the Worldwound. "There is my home, for any place that I might have called home it has stolen from me." Her eyes bore deeply into Godwin's face as a shadow seems to pass across her. "I would still be far from here and ignorant of all Crusades did not a nest of vile demons steal me away and seek to use my death for fell purpose. But I was freed by a black-haired barbarian and settled here, to one day take vengeance." Her revelry is broken by the hail of a friendly paladin, and she takes the opportunity to collect herself.

"Hail and well met to you, paladin," she says as she shakes Flynn's hand. "Good sir, do I know you? You seem familiar to me. As you should, since most paladins strut about with an air of palpable haughtiness, but you seem to travel as if under a mountain of grief. And you do share a look with...."

She grabs the arm of Piousa the cleric and beseechers her aid. "Tell me, friend, does he not share a look with that warrior that was cast out of the city last year? Strange coincidence that. I wonder whatever happened to that fellow?"


Johann takes back the parchment and then looks at the two others whose names have just been added. "Hold a moment. You'll need more than just a name. What banner do you join the tourney under? I'll need to see writs to establish them. The reenactment isn't set for hours yet, so you should have plenty of time to fetch those." He looks over Gramlag and Xantrius briefly, "While the armored lad would fit in, I do not think there was anyone in that battle that fought with two shields, so I would have a hard time fitting Grimlag in. Also, the people at the head of that list have been training for months leading up to this day, so I would need to ask by who's leave would I be substituting them for someone I just met?"

Lantern Lodge

Iolana Torlinni wrote:
Iolana is about to try and get the bull-headed man to try when she noticies Selindra laughing at her current partner. Iolana's expresion goes from fun to a fiery look of anger, "Laugh if you like, but at least he tries." Her look becomes challenging, "Do you think you could do better? Come dance with me and prove it or prove the cowardice in your heart and refuse the challenge."

Selindra blanches a bit, her laughter cutting off as she clams up. She tries but cannot look at the woman without her cheeks flushing. "Look miss, I really don't want any trouble. I know I can't do any better than he did, especially in my armor." She absentmindedly grabs hold of the holy symbol of Iomedae that hangs around her neck.

She turns to the man very apologetically. "My apologies good sir. I mean no offense. Either you or your dancer friend can name your penance, and I will see it done."


Smiling at the woman, Iolana takes a breath and let's it out slowly. "As far as I'm concerned all is well with your admission and apology, I can't speak for my partner here. I may have overreacted a bit. If you ever change your mind you are welcome to dance with us, who knows, you might have fun." She gives the woman a quick hug to show no hard feelings and returns to her performance.

Lantern Lodge

Iolana Torlinni wrote:
Smiling at the woman, Iolana takes a breath and let's it out slowly. "As far as I'm concerned all is well with your admission and apology, I can't speak for my partner here. I may have overreacted a bit. If you ever change your mind you are welcome to dance with us, who knows, you might have fun." She gives the woman a quick hug to show no hard feelings and returns to her performance.

Selindra thinks for a moment. "A dance? I suppose I can do that. Well..., I can try. I think that I would look much more foolish than your friend did."

Selindra sighed inwardly. Yes Sir Gareth, I will try to join in. I'm just..., terrible at these sorts of things. Her sense of self critical judgement pushed its way to the forefront after her display of mocking the other man. You earned this for your outburst, so make it good. You haven't even been in the city an hour and you are already making a fool of yourself.

"Uhm..., You are going to have to forgive the armor, I don't quite know that I would be well suited to faster steps." Shedding her heavy travelling pack, and her shield and sword next to the dancing circle, Selindra comes out to stand next to Iolana and prepares herself. Though how serious she could look wearing full chainmail and her tabard and symbol of Iomedae attempting to dance remains to be seen.

Perform: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23


Zoren catches the quick glow of the man's eye revealing himself to be an Angelkin. Uh, if that is your wish, sir. Zoren says a bit stiffly. Again berating himself for interjecting when he should have remained quiet he takes a step backwards to put some distance between himself and the aasimar. As he does so he bumps into a man carrying a flagon of mead. As the beverage was about to tip on Zoren he reached out revealing a green scaly hand. Catching the flagon Zoren apologized before hasitly covering up his hand trying to prevent those around from noticing it too much. Who all saw that and what are they going to think now? Should I leave or would that cause a greater scene?

No just relax and let the others go about their business. This is a time of celebration afterall as you can see. There are people all around from different parts of Golarion. Even if they did notice they are not going to assume the worst. Now go and calmly interact with that man.

Listening to his 'better' half Zoren approaches the plane touched once again. Hesitantly at first, Then let you buy me a drink. Sorry,I am a bit...off today. I mean, let me buy you a drink and your lady friend as well?


The tiny gnome with flamingly bright red hair walks among the much taller and clumsier humans that constitute the majority of those up and about in Kenabres this day.

Finding a position between a huge Ulfen, the gnome listens to the Mayor make his speech. When the Mayor finishes, the gnome sighs.
Foolish man. Can't even give a good uplifting speech. No wonder the demons keep getting into here. If he cannot rouse this crowd of misfits, then how is he to lead the armies.

With the speech finished, the gnome wanders off. When he hears clapping, he moves over and arrives at the dancing Varisian just as she finishes. When the woman suddenly turns red and begins to scold the other woman, a big grin appears upon the gnome's face. He then calls out in his high squeaky voice:
You are lucky she was laughing. If I had to watch that performance, I would have been crying. Heck, you should be paying the crowd to watch you. They will need the money to drown the memory at the nearest pub.

Liberty's Edge

Liath puts hand to chin and nods at Johann's words. "Too true, too true. But pause, Blademaster Varus was looking to fill two slots on the honored right flank, with trianees Mazeus and Parmenion taken to bed with Cackle Fever. And did not the commander's steward, Thapsacus the Defiant, fight beside Terendelev with twin scimitars? Brave Gramlag, would that be a suitable role for such a worthy as yourself?

"Johann, after they provide their writ, might the armory lend the good dwarf a pair of cutters so he might bestly fill Thapsacus' heroic shoes? Tell any who ask that Warpriest Gwenilian requests it for the glory of Armasse.

In the meanwhile, let's see if they wish to lay on one-on-one." A smirk seeps across her face as her eyes carefully climb the armored giant from the sabatons on his feet to his armored crest. "Who knows, the dwarf might even break a sweat." The challenge in her voice is plain, if the steel tower is up to it.

Liath dismists the matter from her head as some kind of spat between the entertainer and a female priest threatens to engulf Godwin, and then sees the matter resolved with an unexpected hug. Her eyes follow the unlikely pair, then she stands enraptured a moment as the she-cleric seems to dance on the air, despite the weighty suit of chain.


Gramlag laughs a bit at Johann's remark "I can use a sword just as well as these shields, they are simply my preferred weapons. as far as a banner is concerned i merely have my clan emblem but i am of no noble birth if that what you are after"

Johann's requests clearly drop Gramlag's spirit a level for a moment while he mulls it over but he perks back up immediately saying "I have no intention of taking a position from someone who has put long hours of work into preparing for this event and i would be more than happy to watch from the crowds and cheer them on, i was simply hoping to get in a good tousle to get the blood flowing, i havn't had a real fight since i left my clan home on the way to this city. seeing the sites is exciting in a way but it doesn't get the blood pumping. perhaps you would know of a smaller tourney open to public entry on short notice?" Gramlag asked this final question with a hint of hope in his voice, taken down a notch but not defeated yet.

"And perhaps my new acquaintances can join me you all seem to be a fair group of fighters." Gramlag also takes notice of the nearby dancer turning to her he asks "And fair dancer, you move with grace and i admire your courage to stand up for yourself, i was wondering though. can you sing or perhaps play as well as you dance, if we do find a place to fight dwarves love the sounds of music while we fight and id be glad to pay you for your time"

edit:"if the lady speaks true though i would be very happy to fill in for the ill members, though scimitars are a tad heavy to wield two at once, i dont know if i would be able to live up to the image of a man that could do so with ease" he said perking up "And if you want to help me show off how i can wield these shields like weapons we could have a friendly dual, or in fact i open that option to anyone here, you all look like you can handle yourselves in a fight"


Alright. Every girl has had her tea, every boy has had his snuff, they all have enough food, wine, and toys for the first half of the day, Sviren is a bit overbooked but I can count on Lorelai to keep His Excellency occupied until Sviren is available. Let's see if I can't acquire some fresh clientele... Once that's done I might see about returning to the Respite.

An elven woman glances over at the crowds of Armasse. This is not her first Armasse. She has seen the festival every year since they began holding it in Kenabres. She has seen decades worth of revelry and indulgence and honoring valorous heroes of yore. Every crusader come to Kenabres, every weeping survivor, and every joyous victory. Armasse is Claylyth's favorite holiday. The ever pressing doom that writhes just beyond the western horizon is banished during Armasse. Iomedae, Torag, they're great to have in a fight. Today though, today is a day for Cayden Cailean, and of course, Calistria.

Claylyth is clad in fine silks and bears a sensible, but obvious, level of jewelry. Unlike most of the crusaders she is immaculately clean and preened, her long russet hair pulled back into a high and sweeping ponytail. She wears no makeup. She doesn't need it. Being an elf has its perks.

Claylyth saunters over to stand near Liath. She leaves a respectable distance between them. She takes a deep breath and stands straight and proud. She raises her voice a bit to be heard over the din, and gives the gnome a cutting look.

"Noble crusaders and honored revelers, Armasse is a celebration of the honored heroes of history. If you wish to honor their memory, go and reenact their fabled battles. When you are bruised and battle weary, know that there is flowing wine, bold ale, and pleasant company awaiting you at The Warm Respite! Find us in Old Kenabres just next to the town hall."


While the honest outburst of laughter doesn't bother Godwin one bit and the dancer coming to his defense actually gladdens his heart the mean spirited snark from the newcomer gnome does irk him. He's going to reply to him with a dismissal of his own before he's stuck by the grace of the girl.

He claps when it ends not even trying to keep rhythm this time but just show his appreciation.

To the tense man I have a lady friend here? Ahah it is a good day if I'm making friends and not knowing it. I would gladly accept a drink if you would allow me to buy you one he reaches out and grabs the man's hand to shake it and notices the scales. Nodding to himself and figuring this might be the reason for the man's nervousness he leans and during the shake and says

Spoiler:
We do not choose our parents. We choose our present.

To the two other ladies Perhaps we can all four of us go and find a tavern. They should be doing good business on this day of all days

To his fellow warpriest he says Then we are siblings in many ways I fear. he says hesitantly. Perhaps it would be good if we talked about it. It has always helped me.

To the fighters I suppose I was a complete shut in during the last few Aramsse's reciting prayers in the seminary. I did not know that this was a mock battler more than a tourney.

To all My name is Godwin by the way. Godwin Solace, please excuse my manners

Silver Crusade

"Good Morn." Xantrius responds in his harsh, grating voice to the well-armed knight of Iomedae. "I have been in line for weeks now, but I have not yet been selected as worthy of joining a patrol. I hope that will soon change."

He notes Liath's reaction to his unnatural presence, but thankfully she does not make an issue. Overwhelmed at her generosity in selecting him for the famous battle, he is silent for a moment before giving her a short bow and proclaming, "My thanks, Lady! I have been trying for some time to make myself known and earn a place in the ranks of the Crusaders."

Unsure for a moment about how to respond to Johann's questions, Xantrius worries that he is about to lose his chance.
If I could use my mother's name, there would be no difficulty in getting a place in the tourney. But I dare not, until I have performed sufficient deeds to overcome her shame!

He is about to remove himself from consideration when Liath comes to his aid once more. "I am in your debt, Warpriest Gwenilian! I am willing to undertake any challenge you name." He states boldly, bowing first to her, then to his selected opponent.

"I look forward to our spar, Sir Gramlag." his response comes out as a low menacing growl despite there being no animosity behind it.


Focused on the swordplay in front of her and the comforting voice of her Roj in her head, Tatyana fails to pay attention as a crowd grows only a few yards from her. "Some of these in the fight are as good as I am...was, Tats. Most of them don't seem that fast, but a couple of them..." She's jolted away from the sound of Roj's melodious voice in her head by a different voice; that of the she-elf advertising her...brothel? "Talk to her. She seems friendly enough, Tats. Besides, maybe she'll have-FOOD!" Tatyana's father's voice echoes through her head, interrupting Roj's cajoling. "WE HUNGER! YOU MUST FEED!"

Tatyana leaves the group discussing one-on-one fights and the mock battles, walking to the elven woman while pressing her hands against the stubbly horns on the side of her head, trying to drown out her father's voice. "Excuse me. I'm Tatyana. You can call me Tats, I ssssupposse. You vouldn't 'appen to 'ave food at your 'ssstablishment, vould you? I 'aven't eaten een, oh, three 'oursss, and I fear zee vorst eef I do not eat sssoon." As she speaks, she silently curses the pointed tongue in her mouth for giving her such a horrible accent.

Liberty's Edge

"I pray thee, stay thy hand a moment, Brother Godwin. I would know who is the better of these two stout warriors. Once a victor is established we may retreat and quench thy parched throat as you wish." Her eyes dart between Gramlag and Xantrius, and the smirk stays on her face. "Loser buys the first round."

After her pronouncment, Liath stares daggers at Claylyth, somehow managing to not quite sneer. "Merchant," she says, as if naming a cloying disease. Unable to let the matter go, she kindly asks, "How did your last audit go?" and smiles sweetly. It was common knowledge that you could set your watch by the sound of her door getting kicked down.

Her eyes catch a flash of green as Godwin shakes someone's hand. That looked almost...demonic? No, not here. They'd not be here, now. Right? RIGHT?

@Gramlag & Xantrius: If you wanna fight, a simple non-lethal rule is that all weapons get wrapped in cotton. Fight as normal, but all damage is non-lethal. Winner by MMA rules: Unc. or tap-out.


So long as they heard me I suppose. Our profit is always exceptional today anyway...

Claylyth dons her professional smile. When she looks to Liath her eyes are cold.

"As well as ever young one. We remain a bastion of hope and frivolity just as we always have. Should your armor ever feel too heavy feel free to rest yourself at my hearth."

Her eyes take in the woman known as Tatyana or "Tats" appraisingly.

Knowledge: Planes to determine which kind of fiend she is rather obviously descended from: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

"While we do not cook ourselves we have arrangements with most of the taverns in Kenabres and could have virtually anything this fine town has brought to you. Is there something in particular you would prefer?"


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Giving Godwin a sad smile, she replies to his offer, "I can sing as well as dance, but I was never good with instruments I'm afraid." Iolana, ever quickly shifting in her moods, becomes angry once more and stalks up to the gnome as he spouts off, "You obviously didn't see anything way down there or you would know the disagreement was over my dance partner, someone who professed to being a poor dancer but had the courage to come dance with me in front of everyone anyway. You obviously have no clue as to what is a good performance anyway." As she realizes that the woman she scolded before goes out to perform, Iolana finds herself drawn out to dance with her as well though she looks back at the gnome, "If you wish to prove me wrong, come show what you can do!"

Iolana quickly begins dancing around Selindra's superb performance, adding to it, but being careful not to steal the show from her. When they finish she claps ecstatically, "A wonderful performance, I think you are a natural. tell me, have you danced before?"

Lantern Lodge

Selindra stands after her dance, a bit bewildered and flushed. Her armor certainly seemed a weight now, but for some reason when the steps began, they just seemed to flow. Its almost like blade forms to be honest. Lightning Strikes the Willow, into Snake in the Tall Grass, then to Wind Wraps the Mountain Peak. Makes me wonder how much of fighting really is...

Iolana's question snaps her out of her reverie. "Me..., dance? Oh no no no. I've been training since I was a young girl. I have been living at a temple of Iomedae for years. Have been training as a paladin for as long as I can remember. Our temple just sent a small group of us here to do our Year in the Wound."

Selindra sighs a moment before going on. "My knight captain is getting our accomidations in order, and I should be out on patrol within a few days. I was not aware that Kenebras had such festivals." Selindra blushes a bit more as she realizes that she is rambling some more and decides that quiet is best served for now.


Claylyth:
Tats's father was a daemon. More accurately, a Meladaemon, one of the servants of the Horseman of Famine. She retained some of the

Feeling prying eyes on her, Tatyana pulls her thin, bony tail in close, trying to minimize its obviousness. It curls around her sinuously, looking somewhat like a belt."I vould kill for anythink, but I vould like-" She realizes what she's said and moves a clawed hand to her mouth. "-I mean, not I vould kill for, but I vould enjoy, you understand? I vould enjoy bread, cheesssse, meat, anythink you can get quickly. Please..."

Her yellow eyes flash toward the Iomedean warpriest now accosting her potential source of food. "And vot are you lookink at? Eef you have commentsss to make, make zem so zat vee can all moof on with our daysss." "OR YOU COULD BREAK HER! BREAK HER AND WE CAN FEAST!" Her father's voice echoes in her head. "...Not now, father. Please not now...Roj, help me." she whispers to herself.


Iolana Torlinni wrote:
... Dancing once more, she makes her way to Fabian, grabbing his hands and trying to pull him out of the crowd into a dance.

And Ali dances, his moves more martial than festive, trying to imitate the great dervishes of his faith. But with no scimitar in his hands, the dance is not quite the same and with no formal training, his moves certainly fall short of master's performance.

perform dance: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Ha, if only Mirreile could see me now. Dancing in front of a crowd. Memories of his monastery flood his mind and the music suddenly stops, too quickly.

He bows graciously to Iolana, "You have the grace of a desert gazelle; I thank you."

Quickly becoming self conscious at all the others around him, he extends his hand and adds, Ali, Ali Asaidi from the deserts of Qadira. With whom did I have the pleasure of sharing this moment?"

Tag Iolana (or others?)

GM, I hope this is what you're looking for. I apologize for not exactly following what's going but it's difficult with 10-15 people posting without any real structure.


On holiday and operating from my phone, I won't be able to contribute properly. I'll bow out good luck all.


@ Fabian
Smiling at his introductions, she curtsies and responds, "Iolana Torlini, a pleasure to dance with you."

@ Selindra
"I understand, I thank you for taking the chance and proving your self braver than I thought. Remember this, if you can manage to dance her in your armor in front of these good people, then you have the courage to handle your Year in the Wound."


Gramlag realizes he is going to need to get used to looking up, he didnt realize when his people told him most other races were taller than him they ment this much taller.

addressing the tiefling that lashed out at the people he was with "now lass, im sure no one ment any offence, i for one may have lingered an eye on you longer than ye find appropriate and i appologize" gramlag said bowing his head in appology "ive simply never met a person with your dark heritage, and i was curious. here i heard you were hungry, take one of my meals i packed for the road, dwarven food will fill any creature and stick to yer ribs trust me" he said with a big smile hoping the offer would cheer up the woman who he guessed has had more than just lingering eyes to deal with in her life.

turning back to the people he was conversing with "aye, Xantrious was it? i good dual to get the blood pumping sounds right up my ally, i think i will bow out from the entry to the mock battles, i dont have mock blood in my veins id rather have a real fight, even if its only for sport" gramlag said happy to find an oppenent

"then perhaps a tour of the town from anyone willing to show me about. I'll asume fighting in the streets is not permitted, where should we go to have some fun?" after asking Gramlag looked to the people he had just met for an answer as they seemed to know the town better, at least most of them did

Lantern Lodge

Selindra nods to the group there. "Forgive me, I forget myself. Selindra Silverstar. I'm just in town. Have not been quartered or lined out on a patrol route yet. They actually turned us loose for a few days during Armasse. I'll have to admit, I have never seen this many people at once. How can you think? It sounds so loud here."


Iolana Torlinni wrote:
Giving Godwin a sad smile, she replies to his offer, "I can sing as well as dance, but I was never good with instruments I'm afraid." Iolana, ever quickly shifting in her moods, becomes angry once more and stalks up to the gnome as he spouts off, "You obviously didn't see anything way down there or you would know the disagreement was over my dance partner, someone who professed to being a poor dancer but had the courage to come dance with me in front of everyone anyway. You obviously have no clue as to what is a good performance anyway." As she realizes that the woman she scolded before goes out to perform, Iolana finds herself drawn out to dance with her as well though she looks back at the gnome, "If you wish to prove me wrong, come show what you can do!"

The tiny gnome suddenly becomes slightly nervous as he recalls waking up in a pile of refuse that morning after the prior nights escapades. Seeing the other big humans around, he feels slightly apprehensive. However, he had started and knew that he could not let this amateur Varisian win the battle. So, he looks up at the tall woman.

Well, I was going to comment about your accompaniment, but they were quite good. You might not be so bad if you did not have those broken rattles about your ankles. You might want to crawl back to the orphanage and return them, I am sure that the children are sad.

Suddenly recalling the challenge, the gnome smiles.
Of course I can dance.

Finishing his belittling: Perform(comedy/sarcasm): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

The gnome breaks into his own dance, a mocking version of that which the Varisian woman was performing seconds earlier. In place of the bells, the gnome takes out his belt pouch and rattles the coins.

Perform(dance): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

And Drakna will never roll like that again.

As he finishes what is as close to a perfect mockery of the dance as he could possible imagine, the gnome grins.
See my Varisian trumpet, it is really not hard to entertain a crowd. Take some lessons and you might be able to make a career out of this. Not a great career, but enough to keep you from having to sell yourself to the highest bidder anyway.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24


Gramlad overhearing the gnome turns and gives him a sour look saying "now thats no way to treat a lady, her perfomance was fine and who she chooses to have join her is her choice. today is supposed to be a celibration so lets not put down the entertainment little one, not while im around" with a hint of anger in his voice

"if you have nothing nice to say then move along!"


"'oo are you, Misssster dwarf? No matter, I accept your offer. You haff made a friend for life, or until sssssomeone elssse offersss food. I'm Tats. Tatyana."

Tatanya holds out a clawed hand to shake with the dwarf, then tears into the food. She only looks up when Gramlag addresses a gnome, picking up on the anger in his voice. For the most part, she simply enjoys the food and the silence that's come over her father's voice.

"I vould still appreciate food from your esssstablishment, or from elsssewhere, ma'am. Eef eet eesss posssible, that eees." She looks to the she-elf.


Drakra looks up at the dwarf. At least it is not as far up as the gangly humans.

Well, if she could move to the music like that warrior lass, then she would not require the constructive criticism that I have provided. As I demonstrated, even one with such limited talents as I can perform a reasonable dance. And, with a little training and hard work, I am sure that she would be able to earn enough to pay for some stale bread and a spot in the hay loft.


Ignoring the rude gnome Godwin focuses on the two would be combatants. Blade-Sergeant Johann, is there any place set aside for a duel? I admit that I am intrigued by what these two can accomplish


Glaring at the gnome with hatred, her voice very quiet, "How dare you, you intrude and insult people trying to dance and enjoying themselves even when they aren't great at it. You mock me and imply I would sell myself. You ignorant...little...rat." Intimidate: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Perform (dance): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
[b]"I'll show you what I can really do."
She does the same dance again, adding a lot more to it this time, including some movements that make parents move their children away. Her anger keeps her from doing quite as well as she should, but it is still a superb performance.

"Now get out of my sight rat, and take your 'constructive criticisms' with you." The combination of insults, especially the comment about her bells, seems to have her on the verge of attacking the little gnome.


Jens wasn't used to not being noticed, but it seemed to be happening an unusually large amount. The dancer was drawing in more and more people to dance, but he stayed safely to the side, knowing a man of his bulk would not be called in. While he was quick on his feet, he had never been overly nimble.

He frowns at the gnome's mockery of the dance, however, speaking out in his bassy rumble. "You lack respect, child. Perhaps you should go elsewhere and try to find it. Let those of us who enjoy the performance do so without your meddling."

Lantern Lodge

Selindra seems to have missed something, as tempers seem to be flaring a bit. So she does what she has trained for so many years to do. Charge into the fray and try to deflect the situation.

"Please, everyone, lets not get too angry. After all, there are demons just outside these walls that would do anything to tear us to pieces. We don't need to do their work for them. Master Gnome, please, I would suggest that you move along before these good people get more upset with you."

She turns to Iolana and Godwin. "please? This is supposed to be a festival of heroes, right? Why argue with him?"

She is not sure her words are that powerful, but she hopes and trusts in her faith that perhaps they might sway them away from rash actions.


Godwin Solace wrote:


To the tense man I have a lady friend here? Ahah it is a good day if I'm making friends and not knowing it. I would gladly accept a drink if you would allow me to buy you one he reaches out and grabs the man's hand to shake it and notices the scales. Nodding to himself and figuring this might be the reason for the man's nervousness he leans and during the shake and says

** spoiler omitted **

To the two other ladies Perhaps we can all four of us go and find a tavern. They should be doing good business on this day of all days

Taken by surprise at the suddenness of the man's overtures it takes Zoren a moment to register what he said. We do not choose our parents. We choose our present.

Finding his voice as he breaks the hand shake and hides his scaly hand Zoren answers softly yet quizzically in return, That is an interesting choice of words you used. I would buy you that drink and ask you to explain yourself more fully. I will be at the tavern 2 streets over with the symbol of tongs and an anvil.

Even though he keeps his eyes on the man before him Zoren silently says a small prayer and flick his eyes upwards for the barest of moments. She was right in her words yet again. The time is for the present not the past. Wrongs can be righted if I just keep focused and see the world 'she' opened my eyes up to.

His reverie cut short by the outburst from the gnome and everyone else in the shouting match Zoren longed to find a quieter place to ruminate on how her words were echoed by Godwin. There was a lot more that 'she' told him but that 1 line was part of it.

As he starts to walk away he hears Selinda talking to the woman and Godwin. He stops and turns immediately when she mentions that there are demons just outside the wall. Shouting over the din to catch her attention he asks a little panic stricken Did you say there are demons at the walls?


Johann looks up from tracking his lists and looks a bit non-plussed. "Hmm...oh, yes,"he looks about a bit,"it looks like the practice yard isn't occupied for the moment. You could spar there, but be wary of any of the crusaders that may need the yard." He points towards an open area ringed by a thick wooden fence.

Liberty's Edge

@Tim: Dude! We keep missing each other! I'll look for you on some future battlefield. :)

To Grimlag and Godwin Liath redundantly points out where Johann has the area for duels nearby. A crowd of expectant onlookers has begun to take form. Liath waves him over and he begins to wrap their weapons in soft(er) cotton.

She coughs stiffly in what might be called a chuckle, and calls out to Iolana who seems determined to murder the gnome with a dance. "Leave off him, troubadour. I've seen his kind of game before, and he's pulling it off masterfully. You provide him a meaty target for his jests. Go back to your basket." Liath glances at Claylyth, "or such employment as best suits you."

She pointedly does not look at the gnome.

Liath does pointedly shake the hand of the shy little paladin that knows how to dance. To Selindra she says,"Hail and well met, Paladin Silverstar. I hope the end of your Year finds you still among the living. Will you partake in any duels or reenactments during your stay?"

Then Liath turns to get a better look at who is addressing her. Only now does she take in Tatyana's long, thin tail, the stubs of hardness at the temples on the forehead, the overly-long nails. The truth of the matter shouts in her head.

Demon!

Liath's breathing becomes rapid and heavy, her hands flex, an aura of divine light growing upon them, preparing retribution.

So this is the dagger that will kill me.

Slowly she banished the specter of the past and comes back to the scene before her. This is no hellspawn spy ready to level the city single-handed, merely one of the many bastardized spoor that grow on re-conquered land like kudzu. If things were different she might feel pity for her.

So this is the dagger that will kill me.

If things were different.

Her breathing calms and her hands fade. She resumes a relaxed posture, but her eyes stay slitted as a snake's.

"What are you doing here, demon?" she asks. "Looking for a lost father? Or joining the Crusade? Ready to take your place at the shoulder of brother paladins, all oath-sworn to exterminate your race? And what will you do, when your squad lays strewn about the field and a handsome demon stands before you, calling you his Little Princess and swearing to put you, his long-lost daughter, upon a throne? Will you face the enemy to your last breath, or will you switch sides at the first convenience?
"Go eat, Little Princess. Gather your strength for the battle-line, where you can prove your quality."

Liath spares a glance for the merchant.
"Or is this one of yours? Does she get dinner for free tonight...if she earns her keep?"


Drakra throws back his head and laughs at the comments for the various tall folk.
Look at yourselves. I offer some comments regarding what was clearly someone who needs to practice her art. And I am being complementary in calling it an art. In response you all lose your temper. Think of this those of you who would go beyond these walls to fight the scaly invaders from beyond. If you lose your temper and are unwilling to learn from your mistakes, then few of you will be here for the next festival. I have seen dozens of these festivals over the years and seen many such as yourselves hoping to make a name for themselves. Trust me, those who lose their tempers, as you all have, rarely return from their first sortie.


Glaring once more at the gnome, "And he who mocks and starts arguments will die even faster than those who anger as you go starting fights. Now, if you would, please leave, your insults are neither welcome nor wanted you miserable son of a maggot and a quasit, begone." As she finishes her words she storms off, grabbing her hat up and sitting to the side away from everyone. She pulls something out of a locket and holds it on the verge of tears.


"Liath is it?"Flynn asks with a forced smile."We may have met before. I used to belong to the Temple of the Everbright Crusade. Sadly I was......Relieved of my duties. Soon after they went into the Worldwound and haven't returned. Now I work for the main Temple of Iomedae, as a guard. I still hope to join the next Crusade though. Enjoy the festivities."
Ducking his head, hoping his shame would not be relived, Flynn turns back around to discover the crowd growing in the area...

Nonplussed by all the sudden activity around him, Flynn wavers back and forth between the group of warriors and the sudden commotion by the dancer.
Ah. I would love to see how he fights with two shields! But i am on duty and responsible for keeping the peace...
"Please! Good People. As has been said, there are numerous enemies beyond the walls to take out our frustration on. This is a day of celebration! I would suggest that you..."Pointing at Iolana, " And You..." Now pointing at Drakra." May find it more enjoyable to work together and entertain these people, instead of one-upmanship and insults."
Turning at the cry of 'Demons at the Walls', Flynn responds " Mayahp not directly at the walls, But this is Kenabres! Demons are never far away."
Walking over to Selindra, he gives a firm nod of recognition to the old warrior frowning at the gnome.
Hey. its Jens. Wonder if he remembers me, its been a year since I trained with him...
" Hail and well met, Sister. It is good to see a fellow follower of the Inheritor." Blushing yet again, he looks at her with a warm smile." And I must say, that is the best dance I have ever seen in full armor."

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