Prepare for adventure
Lilywhite
Your vessel the Blue Orchid, sails into the port while the sun is high in the sky. The sailors hustle about docking the large ship. As you disembark, you find yourselves in the friendly town of Lilywhite and discover there is a celebration in full swing. It is impossible to avoid the festivities and you find yourself drawn out onto the streets, either joining in the fun, or unable to get any piece because of it and resigning yourself to.
Serving as a refuge for followers of Cayden Cailean, the town is known for being a bit less cutthroat than most other settlements in the Shackles, and because of this it often attracts those just starting out in their buccaneering careers. Lilywhite has avoided being sacked by ruthless captains who might take the town for an easy mark thanks
to a well-known myth: any captain who pillages the town disappears, along with her ship and crew, never to be seen again.
The town curves along the shoreline of Motaku Isle, spreading across bridges to a few small islands sitting in the deep-blue bay. Small, well-made wooden buildings ring the harbor. Festive flower and palm-frond garlands hang from various buildings, bridges, and statues. Vessels of varying shapes and sizes jam nearly all the town’s long piers, and the great number of ocean-going ships lying at anchor render the outer harbor nearly impassible. Throngs of revelers, many wearing masks, carouse through the town while singing and drinking from frothing tankards.
Knowledge checks.
Knowledge Local
The story spread, and Cayden’s faithful began celebrating the anniversary of the escape a few years later. As the tradition grew, it came to be named for the power of the rum that had given the escapees their chance at freedom. The festival is still most common in the Shackles, though it has begun to slowly spread elsewhere in the Inner Sea.
Knowledge history, pirate lord lore will also apply.
Capricia had been stuck in Lilywhite for 9 days now after being relieved of duty aboard the Starchaser on trumped-up charges; what she'd been truly guilty of was staunchly declining the unwanted advances of the ship's lecherous quartermaster, Tobin Darius. Although the quaint--actually rather picturesque--pirate village was less than 40 miles as the gull flies from her hometown of Little Oppara on Taldas Isle, the young woman had never visited the place and knew next to nothing about it or its customs.
Some sort of Rum Festival was in full swing, and it seemed that devotees of Cayden Cailean were out in force on the streets and in the town's taverns. The many revelers who wore masks gave her the idea to don one herself to avoid unwanted romantic overtures, almost unavoidable for a pretty thing like herself when free-flowing booze and all-day partying came together. While donning an orc mask and relaxing in peaceful solitude had its appeal, at heart Capricia, despite her name, was usually all business. And right now the business at hand was to get aboard a ship, either to crew for a season or perhaps simply to travel home at last to Little Oppara after three years on her own. She missed her parents.
Sure enough, several men in various states of inebriation come up to her as she sits alone at a small patio table shielded from the sun by a giant parasol outside the Sandbar Tavern, not far from a larger, rowdier conventional tavern. Setting her buckler down so that it leans against on leg of her table, Capricia sits with her formidable falcata on the tabletop before her, within easy reach; to the side sits a pitcher with lemons, limes, and cherries floating in a clear liquid and the small glass the young lady uses to drink from. When an unwanted admirer approaches, Capricia picks up her weapon and waves him away with it, all the while flashing a smile that's more of a smirk.
Capricia's pouring herself a refill from the pitcher when her falcata suddenly flies off the tabletop, seemingly of its own accord, and into the hand of a skinny, clean-shaven, chanting man passing by her table. As Capricia starts to leap to her feet she finds a past suitor already at her side, a knife in his hand. He flashes a more triumphant version of the smirk she'd tossed his way when dismissing him earlier.
"Hello again, my lovely," the man says with a half-bow. "I am Carlsson Merrick, and my wingman is Tobias Greenwater. Don't you find his pick-up line most...disarming? Now, now--don't get all angry and upset--you're much prettier when you're smiling. Tobias will return your impressive blade once you've done us one small favor."
"And what's that?" Capricia asks through gritted teeth as she considers reaching for her buckler, which she can wield as a weapon in a pinch.
"Well...first, stand up so that we can get a better look at your beauty. Ah! What a stunning turquoise blouse! Silk, is it not? But what's this? White breeches??!! As fetching as they are upon you, these are the tropics, milady, and... there may be pirates about! They won't stay white for long, my dear. 'Lady Staincatcher' I dub you!"
"She's going to punch you in the groin," warns the wingman with his own quirky grin, "or bash you in the face with that buckler under the table she's been eyeballing. Hurry up and ask her!"
"Ask me what?" Capricia demands tersely, upset that the mage who'd nabbed her weapon had also read her intentions somehow.
Carlsson gave his most debonair grin. "We need another player for our knife-throwing tournament," the man admits sheepishly. "If you haven't the coin for your ante, I'd gladly pay it in compensation for your charming company. What say you, milady?"
Capricia glared at the man. "I'd say, 'Did you just insinuate that I'm some sort of trollop whose company can be bought with a bit of silver?'"
Carlsson's jaw drops and it looks like he is trying to catch flies with his gaping mouth. His wingman, however, bursts into a fit of pleasant laughter. He steps forward, handing Capricia the handle of her stolen weapon. "We really do need another player," he says sheepishly. "You ever play Ol' Blinky before?"
"Of course!" the pirate woman shoots back, taking her falcata back with some gusto, yet being careful enough not to let its blade cut into Tobias's fingers. Finally allowing the hint of a smile to cross her lips, she adds, "And I can pay my own ante. Seems only fair, as I plan on taking all of your gold, lads!"
The Ol' Blinky target was affixed to the trunk of a fairly straight palm tree at the patio's edge. The front half of a cyclop's skull had been bolted to the tree; the object of the game was to throw knives or dart through the skull's eye socket, nasal cavity, or mouth. Since the nasal cavity was the smallest of the three holes in the bony target, it earned the thrower the most points, but you could only earn those points once per round: a second throw into that hole instantly eliminated you from that round.
Capricia doesn't break the bank but she more than holds her own in the test of skill.
Dhavyn looked around the town slowly, a bemused look on his face. He didn't begrudge anyone celebrating a slave escape, and he certainly didn't begrudge anyone having a good time, especially with alcohol involved! A smile slowly crept on to his face and he strode forward.
He was almost immediately bumped into by a couple drunkenly staggering off to find some quiet place....well, maybe not quiet but out of the way. The man burped an apology and thrust the half-finished mug of ale in to Dhavyn's hands as way of further apology apparently. Dhavyn frowned for a moment but then sniffed the drink and shrugged before downing it. No sense in wasting free rum.
He started weaving his way through the crowds, setting the empty mug down randomly. There was so much noise, so many people, it was a bit overwhelming. Finally, he ducked into a tavern just to get a bit away from the press of people. He found himself in an old bar called The Leaning Drunk...and the place was made of wood and did actually lean a bit. It was oddly nice and disconcerting at the same time to him.
"Here now, here's a likely lad!"
Dhavyn turned to look at a back table with several pirates at it, with several sets of cups and dice on the table's top. One of the pirates, an older human with white stringy hair, missing teeth and an eye patch over his left eye was waving at Dhavyn.
"C'mon over here, lad! Join us in a game o'Liar's Dice! We'll even buy yer first drink for ya!" Two of the other pirates at the table rolled their eyes and shook their heads but didn't say anything.
Dhavyn wandered over and slowly sat down. "Very well. I suppose I could play, if you teach me the rules."
The pirates, of course, were looking to fleece the young Undine. On other side of things, though, he knew well what Liar's Dice was and used the time they were teaching him to learn more about them and their 'tells'.
He nodded though with a slight frown. "Okay. I think I've got it. Let's play for real this time." He set down 1 gold like the others did. The first round went through with "4 Ones!", "5 Threes!" and so on. Dhavyn won the first hand as the pirates 'let' him, to hook him in, telling him he was a natural and such.
The second round went a little differently and Dhavyn lost, but not a lot of money. The third and fourth rounds were much the same, the stakes rising a bit each time. On the fifth round Dhavyn acted hesitant and 'let' himself be baited into a bigger bid. But he ended up winning, exclaiming how he couldn't believe he'd won. The sixth and last round was a little smaller of a pot that Dhavyn lost to assuage their potential anger over him winning the bigger pot.
Then he bought them each a drink and left the tavern, counting himself lucky not to have gotten in to a fight. With drunk and gambling pirates, you never could tell.
The 4', 200-lb mountain of a dwarf with black hair and beard and green eyes walked out of his inn at the Lilywhite. He had been waiting 3 days for the Rum Festival, as he was sure it would attract the pirate community and pirate captains he needed to persuade to let him join his crew. He needed to make gold and he need to make it quick. He needed to know Papa's fate.
Barnabus walked through the crowd of revelers easily parting them with his girth and the threat of his longhammer in his hand. He drank a couple of tankards of rum; they hardly affected someone of his girth and size. His secret passion in life was music. He couldn't play anything to save his life but he admired people who had musical talent. He listened to renditions of sailor songs, folk music, gypsy ballads, and arias. The last performer, a red-headed woman named Miranda, captivated him with her voice and beauty. He raised a tankard in tribute to her and tipped her 2 gp. He walked around and admired the games of chance around him, but he was not a gambler. He gambled only on sure things: like himself. He just needed an opportunity to show off his skills.
Wesh Meloi leaned back in his chair, legs propped up on the ledge of his second-story room at The Jolly Ferret. He had paid 10gp for the room, but the view was worth it. It was a small miracle that he had been able to get a room at all at that time of the year.
At the age of 29, the nearly middle-aged man - middle-aged as he saw it anyway - had come to Lilywhite three days prior in search of a new life. Instead, he found himself in the middle of one of the Shackles' annual festivals.
Though Wesh was relatively short for a human at 5'9'', he didn't let the other members of his race or those of other races - such as elves - intimidate him by their size. Wesh was very unassuming with his short, brown hair, average build, and relatively simple attire. That day, he wore a pair of dark brown pants and a dark brown tunic with a brown shirt underneath. The tunic and shirt helped mask the mithral shirt underneath. The mithral shirt was one of several things Wesh had stolen from the Lion Blades' school.
Wesh looked down at the revelers. They went about their day, unaware that they were being closely observed. As Wesh saw it, the followers of Cayden Cailean provided a convenient cover for his presence. Still, the multitude of people was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Wesh could easily pass himself off as one of the revelers joining in the festivities. On the other hand, there could easily be visitors from other parts of the Inner Sea Region, including Taldor.
It was because of this that Wesh observed those below so closely. Being from Taldor made it easier for Wesh to observe the telltale signs of someone else from the nation.
Though Taldor was far to the east, he still found it difficult to relax. Leaning back in the chair only helped so much.
He watched a young couple purchase a pair of beers and one of the delicacies native to Lilycove: salted swordfish and prawns. To the right of the couple, Wesh watched as a black-haired and green-eyed dwarf pushed his way through the crowd, his longhammer providing ample reason for the revelers to make way for the sturdy fellow. Elsewhere in the crowd, Wesh watched a young couple walk toward one of the various sideshows with a young child between them.
Seeing the family brought back memories that Wesh wished he could forget altogether. Though he would never admit it, it was really the lack of memories that bothered Wesh so much.
Turning away from the small family, Wesh saw a young woman being accosted by a pair of ruffians. Wesh considered intervening, but the woman seemed more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, Wesh still wanted to remain inconspicuous and picking a fight would hardly accomplish that, even if he was certain he could end it with a couple well-timed swings.
At the thought, Wesh gripped the pommels of the short swords at each of his sides. That was perhaps the worst part of trying to be inconspicuous: the need to avoid combat. Wesh was worried he might grow out of practice if he didn't soon find an outlet for his skills. Still, being a free man was a fair trade-off for not being able to practice his swordplay.
Wesh looked elsewhere in the crowd and tilted his head as he observed an odd exchange. A pair of drunks nearly bumped into an Undine man. Seemingly in recompense, one of the drunks offered his drink to the Undine. Perhaps the strangest part of the exchange came next: the Undine drank the mug he had been handed. Wesh raised an eyebrow, but his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere. There were just too many people to observe at a festival.
Despite his efforts, Wesh knew all too well that he lived on a knife's edge. If there were others from Taldor in Lilycove, Wesh was only a moment away from capture and eventual execution.
Best to live in the moment, I suppose, Wesh thought as he stood to his feet. He walked back into his room in the inn and slipped his other pair of short swords into scabbards on his back. One could never have too many swords.
Walking downstairs, Wesh nodded at the innkeeper attending his bar and walked outside into the crowd. Various groups were huddled in alleys and against walls playing an assortment of games. Most of them held little interest for Wesh. He was interested in people, not games.
Still, he eventually came upon one game that he couldn't resist trying. The proprietor of the game, a half-elf named Yilara Olwey, claimed to have invented the game herself. Wesh seriously doubted the claim, but didn't feel like contradicting the woman. The game was relatively simple. A contestant walked into one of the game's stalls and faced off against a straw-stuffed dummy. Yilara, or one of her assistants, controlled the dummy from behind it with a series of levers. Wesh was given a pair of wooden swords. If he could avoid being hit by the dummy for one minute, he would win a prize, or so he was told anyway. The entry fee was 30gp.
Guess I'm about to see just how rusty I am, Wesh thought.
Mere moments after he had begun the game, the dummy landed a blow on his left arm.
"Blast this contraption. It isn't natural, so it's not a fair fight," Wesh said as he threw down the wooden swords and exited the game stall. "Keep the gold," he said to Yilara.
"Oh don't worry, we will," Yilara said with a smile.
Wesh just shook his head and walked away, rubbing his arm as he went. I guess I'm rustier than I thought.
With a sigh, he walked back into the crowd, trying to hide his embarrassment. There would yet be other opportunities to test his skills, he was sure of it. A target dummy wasn't enough to discourage him entirely. Though his pride was wounded, he was more determined than ever to prove himself and make a living as a pirate. Lilycove would not get the best of Wesh. He would make sure of that.
Sitting at a table in a spot carefully chosen to be both cool and shaded, and to have a good view of the festival Dain studied the selection of exotic and potent drinks in front of him the the deliberation of a true hedonist.
"Ye've had enough you sot!" The blue and red feathered pest on his shoulder told him cruelly. Dain gave Betty a glare, but refrained from answering back. Her beak was nasty and sitting on his shoulder gave her far too many delicate targets to choose from.
Sighing he stood up slowly and carefully, maybe Betty was right he thought as everything swayed like storm tossed ship for a second. "No more for me my love." he told the pretty barmaid, tossing her the required coins, and a few more for her inviting smile. Practiced as it no doubt was.
He brushed his long, sun bleached brown hair back and studied the crowds, a tall, well built man, with an easy smile and good looks. Dain did his best to mask how clever he really was, approaching life with a sleepy look and a devotion to taking things as easily as he could.
"Shall we go and listen to the music Betty?" He asked his familiar, Betty bobbed up and down on his shoulder. "Yes, yes, lovely music!" Dain smiled. "Just remember not to sing this time, last time you made that pretty Bard cry you were so bad!" The painful nip to his earlobe was worth it.
There is a roar that is heard by all the festival as everyone begins pushing towards a certain tavern in Lilywhite. As you are all pushed along you hear murmurs of a drinking contest. You all try to resist the crowd but are slowly forced towards the clamour and soon all of you find yourselves watching a tall Mwangi man with close-cropped graying hair wearing a large orange mask that depicts a laughing man’s face. A cleric of Cayden Cailean who bellows in a cheerful and boisterous tone,
“Welcome to the town of Lilywhite, favored home of Cayden Cailean! You find us in the midst of our annual Rum Punch Festival — a truly blessed time for all! If there is any way that I can help you, please let me know! But more than that I challenge anyone new, which means you have not done it before Drune! I challenge anyone knew to show their metal, and where they stand in Cayden Cailean's favor by entering The Lucky Drunk's challenge! And the victor will receive this!”
The masked man raises a large silver tankard, which must be worth 250gp. And as he does so a beaming elderly woman, face creased with laughter lines, moves up beside him, carrying a tray full of, from the smell, clearly potent alcoholic drinks,
"And for those of you who don't know I am Duwella Morin, Cayden's chief squeeze in Lilywhite, and proprietress of the fine establishment you are all standing in front of! If anyone can go for eleven rounds without trading plunder for a chunder I'll offer up a golden stein - don't worry it isn't a relic, you can sell it, and if you don't get a 1000gp your are being robbed!"
The masked man whoops and cries, "So come on who will take the challenge, I will explain the rules in full to those who accept, but in essence it is a drinking contest. So if you have the belly and, or the heart for it step up and take The Lucky Drunk's Challenge!"
Dhavyn put his new-found winnings away in his pouch, which then hung around his neck and tucked in to his shirt. He started to see what else the place had to offer, but something happened. He was brought along with the crowd, like a ship on the tide, the pull inexorable but not entirely unwelcome. He looked around a bit, but then his attention was completely drawn to the speaker with the mask. His lips quirked up in a smile a bit as he listened.
He shook his head but his feet stepped him forward. He gave a shrug. "Sure, I'm new. I'll give it a try." He smiled up at the cleric and woman.
OOC: I assume that I won 15gp from the earlier betting with the 75 roll, is that correct?
Capricia finds herself swept along with the crowd, helped in no small by the gallant Carlsson Merrick. Thankfully, the young man's instances of offering her a 'helping hand' aren't too fresh or forward. Still, the young woman is leery about getting too friendly with a pair of strangers; the drinking contest offers her an interesting possibility of escape.
"I'd be oh-so-impressed by anyone who could win one of those lovely drinking vessels," she coos into Carlsson's ear. Seeing a fellow with a bluish tint to his skin step up to accept the challenge, Capricia smiles impishly and adds, "Oh my--you'll never be able to best that fellow. I bet he can drink...like a fish."
Carlsson jumps up at the chance to prove himself in front of Capricia and strides quickly next to Dhavyn attempting to stare himd down as he shouts, "I will take this lucky drunk challenge and defeat all the other contestants. Once I have proven myself I will take those treasures for my lady," he points at Capricia as he finishes.
"So Tobias...," Capricia drawls after smiling graciously when Carlsson acknowledges her, "...is your friend always so rash and foolish or do I bring out those traits in him?"
The young wizard chuckles. "A bit of both, I think. If what I suspect we both expect to happen occurs and Carlsson needs to be carried back to his room to recover, I'm going to have to insist that you help me, as he's too heavy for me to carry alone and I believe this is all of your doing."
"Indeed?" Capricia replies with an arched eyebrow and the hint of a smirk.
As Wesh walks away from the game stall with a bruised arm, he's quickly caught by a wave of people as the crowd pushes him toward one of Lilywhite's taverns.
This should be interesting, Wesh thinks.
Unable to push against the wave, he quickly finds himself inside the tavern and listens to Duwella Morin as she explains the drinking game she's inviting everyone to participate in.
I think I'm done with games for the day, Wesh decides, recalling his encounter with the wooden swordsman.
Looking around, Wesh sees a few familiar faces, some of those whom he had observed earlier in the day. The Undine man had volunteered himself for the drinking contest. He seemed sturdy enough in constitution to handle himself. There was also the young woman and the pair of ruffians. No, not ruffians. That designation had proved inaccurate based on his current observations.
Wesh pushes himself closer to the trio, but is only able to catch two of their names: Tobias and Carlsson. Carlsson had also volunteered himself for the competition. No, the two men were certainly not ruffians. Partners in crime, perhaps, but of a more sophisticated quality.
Still, Wesh couldn't help but think about the golden stein. He knew it would be an excellent way to start out his career as a pirate.
Perhaps...
But no. He couldn't afford to embarrass himself in front of so many. He had just arrived in Lilywhite and he was not about to ruin his reputation before he had even begun to build one.
Regardless, the drinking game is sure to be entertaining, so Wesh decides to stay and observe its results.
"Bah...a drinking challenge. That tankard will be mine! None here can outdrink me'" The mountain of a dwarf strides forward and enters the contest. He looks very confident that he will win.
Carried along by the crowd Dain's grey eyes widened with interest at the challenge thrown down to all. "You've already had your challenge.. And you lost, fool!" Came the voice of cold cruel reason on his shoulder.
Shrugging, and taking some satisfaction at the squawk of protest this produced Dain had to agree, he already had a head start on the other contestants, besides a very intimidating looking Dwarf had just entered. Dain had tried drinking with Dwarves before, to his eternal regret.
Shaking his head he found a comfortable spot with a wall to lean against and settled in to watch someone else make a fool of themselves.
"Well that was quite an entry," chuckles the man in the mask. As you four wait around many other people step up to take the Lucky Drunk Challenge. The cleric of Cayden pulls out small kegs and gestures for the contestants to take seats upon them, around a larger barrel that serves as a table. Duwella puts down a tray with eight drinks all far from normal fare,from brightly coloured liqors in small glasses, to tankards of a nutty smelling brew.
"Bottoms up Lords and Ladies, make Cayden proud! Round one drink!"
Duwella brings forth a new tray every five minutes or so, gradually slowing to ten minutes as the contestants begin to struggle.
Dhavyn eyes the drinks a bit as they are coming in. He thinks he understands how to pick the weakest drink each round to last a little longer in the contest....but he doesn't think he'll win. He drinks the first 3 drinks without an issue. After the 5th drink he starts to feel a little queasy, the 6th drink makes him hurl and gets him disqualified.
The crowd bellow and jeer as Dhavyn vomits on his eight drink and gets soaked, they break out into a rousing chorus of,
"Ho! Ho! and up it rises
Ho! Ho! and up it rises
Ho! Ho! and up it rises,
Lick-him in the morning!"
Which swiftly grows less oblique, and more raucous.
Seeing the Undine painting the cobblestones with his guts Dain smiles, he's been there more than once himself and feels some sympathy for him.
Getting some clean water he offers it to the Undine. "That's the stuff my friend. You did well getting so far. Console yourself with the knowledge it was free booze."
Giving him a easy smile he offers him the water to rinse his mouth out.
Dain stands about 6.3 and has brown hair bleached by the sun, along the tan of someone who spends a lot of time at sea. He's well built, but obviously not a fighter, wearing the pants and shirt of a ships officer, under a loose coat. He has grey eyes and an easy smile, with a pair of scroll cases on his hip. A colorful parrot is perched on his shoulder, glaring at the world with avian scorn.
"Keep 'em coming! Darn rookies, can't handle their liquor!". Barnabus is having a grand old time singing and making fun of the losers as they throw up. He gives them a pat on th back. "Better luck next year!"
Capricia watches on with interest...not only the drinkers in the contest, but also other folk nearby, such as the tall fellow who shows kindness to the bluish fellow after the drink finally takes its toll on him. The dwarf interests her most: He seems to have the aura of an experienced seafarer, plus the confidence and bravado of someone who could handle himself, both on a ship and in a fight. She still needs to find her way onto a crew; perhaps one or more of these strangers might help.
More pressing to her at the moment, however, is whether Carlsson can pull off an upset and outdrink the blue guy and the dwarf. If her admirer actually wins...well, it'd be rude of her to just blow him off, but at the same time she doesn't want to encourage his advances.
Barnabus continues to drink far past Carlsson who face goes purple after his 6th drink. He stumbles backwards and spews bile over many of the onlookers.The crowd cheers as one by one contestants stumble and spew all over the place. The cheering gets louder and louder as Barnabus reaches for his tenth drink. A hush falls over the crowd as he downs it. The silence persists, his cheeks begin to fill up and as he spews his bile over the table the crowd goes crazy. Duwella and the masked Cleric of Cayden exchange amused glances, both the old woman claps her hands and lets out a piercing whistle to silence the crowd to a dull roar.
"Well I am sure that some of you are not in Cayden's favour today, Barnabus you nearly made it to the record but you are the rightful victor of the silver tankard. Perhaps next year you will make it all the way.
The crowd jeer you all as you take the tankard, but its good natured, and mostly sympathetic. There are another couple of rounds, but nobody does much better than you and after half an hour the crowds begin moving chanting, "Mad Dash! Mad Dash! Mad Dash!"
"For those of you new to our fair Town, head over to the Lumberyard, where every bugger else is heading! And if you have the stomach for it you can even join in the race!" Duwella bellows above the clamour.
The crowd suddenly parts as several raggedly dressed men wearing broken chains, that do not seem to weigh much race through the centre. Grinning they perform flips, pratfalls, and even fire breathing, while occasionally casting dramatically worried looks over their shoulders.
Minutes later another group wearing stylized demonic masks and armor
and all carrying long whips parade through, the crowd booing and hissing as the villains wave manacles menacingly and generally make a pantomine of evil.
"Hail the champion!" Capricia calls out, raising a fist to the sky in salute to the winning dwarf. Then she turns her attention to Carlsson and Tobias, addressing the mage. "Well, I daresay he came out of that challenger a bit better than we'd feared--you should have no problem escorting Carlsson back to his room without my aid!"
Hoping to make good her escape with a minimum of objections from the two men, Capricia allows herself to get caught up in the moving crowd who shout something about a Mad Dash.
Wesh grimaces as the Undine and the dwarf let loose the contents of their stomachs.
That could easily have been me, Wesh thinks. Luckily for him, his calmer predilections prevailed in this instance.
Wesh notices another notable figure for the first time: a human comforting the Undine man after this loss. The fellow seemed to perpetually keep a parrot of some sort on his shoulder.
Because he is considering the newly-discovered man, Wesh is caught off-guard when a group of performers make themselves abundantly clear among the crowd. Only a few minutes later, a group wearing demonic apparel also arrives.
Wesh tenses and moves his hands to the familiar feeling of the pommels of his short swords. Perhaps they were just performers, but the whips looked capable of doing more than just entertaining.
If they do attack, this might be my chance to show some of the local captains what I'm capable of. The thought excites Wesh and he moves to a position where he can more effectively survey the two groups. If they decided to attack the crowd, Wesh would be ready.
Dhavyn let out a small groan and wiped his mouth. "Ugh. Too much. Throwing up alcohol is like a crime." He gagged but didn't throw up again.
He looked up blearily at the man talking to him. He blinked in no comprehension before he realized the man was offering him water. He took it gratefully and drank, including swishing around and spitting once before drinking to swallow. "Thank you." Only after that did he smile, as before he might have still had grossness in his mouth.
He looked over at the dwarf and gave a nod. "Good showing." And then to both the dwarf and human he said, "I'm Dhavyn Stormborn. Nice to meet you both."
He picked himself up and let out a long breath, wincing slightly. "No racing for me, but I think I will check out this Lumberyard."
"Ah well, it always comes out again. One way or the other." Dain smiles once Dhavyn is more recovered.He offers the water to Barnabus if the Dwarf wants to rinse his mouth out.
"Dain Westhook. I would have joined the game, but thought my head start would be unfair." He grins showing he's hardly serious.
Nodding at Dhavyn's suggestion. "Racing in this sun? yes, lets leave that to the bold."
He ambles along with the others to the lumberyard, giving off the impression that he prefers to take a relaxed approach to life.
The dwarf cheers when he wins the drinking contest, "Bah, I'll get that record next year!" He thanks the people who congratulate him, "Pleasure, Dhayvyn, Barnabus Blackrock, would-be pirate!" He gladly accepts the Dain's water. "Much appreciated. Looks like we're off to the races. I may not fare well in this contest...short legs."
The parade takes nearly an hour and a half to wind its way through Lilywhite with various establishments having manufactured set piece shows that halt the entire affair; What seems to be a fabric store produces a giant octopus, made from carefully shaped orange fabric over a wicker frame and controlled by a dozen, not particularly well coordinated dancers which the "slaves" dodge past with their acrobatics, and then battle the "slavers" shooting forth gallons of black ink as the whips thrash at it; also of note are a group of illusionists who cover the center of the streer in surging illusionary sea from which swim forth a great silent serpent that swims back and forth winking at the crowd.
Those that care to pay attention can garner the history of the festival from the parade, once the more fanciful elements are removed.
The Rum Punch Festival is an annual religious tradition honoring Cayden Cailean that is celebrated primarily along the western coast of Garund. It commemorates a Sargavan slave escape that occurred in 4686 AR at the port of Crown’s End. The escape involved three large slaver ships crammed full of slaves captured from Sargavan docks and the Bandu Hills, bound for sale at the slave markets of Bloodcove. Prior to setting sail, the crews of the ships gathered for a celebratory drink, each consuming a few mugs of rum. Surprisingly, the crews of all three ships got roaringly drunk despite consuming
no more rum than usual. Many slavers fell unconscious in positions that left their key rings dangling within reach of the slaves in the ships’ holds. As the slaves freed themselves, five small seabirds flew past the ship. A few worshipers of the Lucky Drunk among the escapees took the amazing potency of the rum as a sign that Cayden Cailean had intervened to give them a chance to free themselves, and believed the five birds had been sent by his herald Thais. As a result, the escaped slaves followed the birds and eventually found a small beached ship that they managed to launch and sail to the Shackles. The story spread, and Cayden’s faithful began celebrating the anniversary of the escape a few years later. As the tradition grew, it came to be named for the power of the rum that had given the escapees their chance at freedom. The festival is still most common in the Shackles, though it has begun to slowly spread elsewhere in the Inner Sea.
By the time you reach the Parade's end the sun has begin to set and fireworks fill the skies bathing the scene in vivid multicoloured hues. The Lumberyard is abuzz with hundreds of workers, revelers, and actors, all gathered before a small wooden stage. Suddenly, a gunshot rings across the crowded square, and attention snaps to the sharp-dressed woman standing on the stage, holding a still-smoking pistol.
Now certain she has the attention of all present, she addresses the crowd. “I’m Captain Varossa Lanteri of the Magpie Princess and I have a business proposition. I’ve recently discovered the secret to finding the lost treasure of Captain Jemma Redclaw, and I’m looking for a few strong hands to help me secure it. The first to reach my bosun’s table on the second floor of the God’s Revel Inn down by the harbor will have the opportunity to receive an officer’s share of old Captain Redclaw’s gold. If you’ve been waiting for your chance at fame and fortune, it’s finally here!” She fires her pistol over the heads of the crowd a second time, and shouts,
“Now hop to!” A moment of shocked silence is followed by a riot of shouts as dozens of people rush out of the lumberyard.
Everyone begins on the Taryn’s Planks card. The PCs must try to overcome obstacles and advance through the cards by attempting various types of checks.
As a standard action, a PC can attempt to overcome one of the two obstacles on the card the character is currently on. If successful, the character exits the card and moves on to the next one. Failing a check to overcome an obstacle means
that a character stops moving for that round and must face the obstacles on the same card again on the next round.
As a full-round action, a PC can attempt both obstacles on his card. If the PC successfully overcomes both obstacles,
the character can exit to the next card and attempt one of its obstacles immediately (allowing the PC to potentially exit two cards in 1 round). If the PC fails either of the obstacles on the initial card, the character stops moving
for that round.
The town’s crowded streets keep the faster racers from being able to push their advantage too much, and characters with base speeds of 20 feet to 40 feet are all on even footing.
Taryn’s Planks
So many hopeful pirates begin running that a crowd immediately forms and blocks the route.
Bellow and Push Through: Intimidate DC 12
and/or
Duck through a Gap: Reflex DC 10
Choke Point
Narrow streets form a choke point in the race.
Notice a Shortcut: Perception DC 14
and/or
Make Your Own Shortcut: Strength DC 13
Bridges
The racers must choose to either push through the crowded main bridge or try to span the gap of a broken bridge.
Crowded Bridge
Scramble over the Railing: Climb DC 14
and/or
Everybody Move!: Bluff DC 14
Broken Bridge
Jump It!: Acrobatics DC 15
and/or
Swim It!: Swim DC 14
Founders’ Square
Brawlers try to eliminate the competition.
Sense an Ambush: Sense Motive DC 16
and/or
Knock Them into the Bay: Bull Rush CMD 16
Running along the Cliff
Competitors try to push each other into the harbor.
No, You First!: Trip CMD 14
and/or
Look behind You!: Bluff DC 13
Final Sprint to the Inn
The entrance to the God’s Revel Inn is a short ramp packed with drunken patrons.
Dodge the Drunks: Acrobatics DC 12
and/or
Scale the Ramp: Climb DC 14
Round 1:
"Woo hoo, this is our chance boys!" In his nastiest voice, the dwarf screams at the pirates to get out of his way, while using his short stature to move through the crowd. He notices a shortcut and races toward it!
Dhavyn was interested in the festival, and all its quirks and fun. The story was curious, and he wondered how much truth there was to it in
all reality. But it made for a good time regardless. He followed the crowd to the Lumberyard.
He blinked at the first pistol shot, only a little startled after all the noise from the crowd and fireworks. He tilted his head and looked
at the well-dressed woman. But as he listened to her speak, he began to get excited. This might be just the thing he was looking for!
He took a chance and followed right on Barnabus's heels. "OUT OF THE WAY BEFORE HE KILLS US ALL!" Dhavyn yelled out as he started
pushing forward the rough the crowd, hoping to startle people in to moving just with the noise.
Then he began weaving through the crowd, looking for holes and anticipating movements as he had done since a little child. He had been
a bit smaller than the other children and not wanted to get stepped on in the marketplace.
He looked around as he moved, not just for more holes in the crowd, but also to try and find a way to perhaps get ahead. His eyes lit up as he
spotted what he thought might be a shortcut and he dove forward towards it.
Dhavyn will also try to overcome two obstacles on the 'Taryn’s Planks' card as a full-round action, and then use Perception for the 'Choke Point' card.
JUST made the Intimidate check, lol!
Not seeing any immediate threat from the ragged men or those wearing masks, Wesh decides to accompany the rest of the crowd to the Lumberyard. Wesh notices that many of those he had seen before are also walking to the Lumberyard.
It seems to take forever to finally arrive and the length of their journey is evidenced by the fading sunlight as dusk begins to settle in. With fireworks beginning to fill the sky, Wesh starts to wonder if the entire day had been wasted.
So much for starting my new career as a pirate…
However, as the thought crosses his mind, he hears a gunshot and notices a sharply-dressed woman who reveals herself to be Captain Varossa Lanteri. The Captain’s mentions of lost treasure, strong hands, and an officer’s share of gold are too much for Wesh to resist. Why would he? This is what he’d been waiting for.
As Captain Lanteri mentions fame and fortune, Wesh thinks to himself, Not interested in the fame, but I’ll take the fortune.
The Captain’s pistol sounds again and it takes a moment for Wesh to realize that the race has begun. It was time for Lilywhite to see what he was truly capable of.
"An officers share sounds nice." Dain muses idlely.
Round one:
Obstacle one: Dain will try both.
Not intimidating anything.
Round two:
Obstacle one repeat: Dain will try both again.
Round three:
Obstacle three: Dain will attempt both.
Failing both.
Round four:
Making it and moving to Obstacle four.
Walking right into it. :(
Round five:
Obstacle Four: Attempting both.
Not bad for a Wizard. :)
Obstacle Five:
Whoot!
Round Five:
Obstacle six: Attempting both.
Sigh.
Round six:
Obstacle six: Attempting both.
Again.
Round seven:
Making it.
So Seven rounds for Dain, he scrambles up and checks in. Tidying his disarranged clothing and trying hard to not look flustered. Betty lands and his shoulder, having leisurely flown over the course, she sniggers mockingly in his ear. "I haven't seen you run that fast since that Innkeep caught you in bed with his daughter back in Port peril!"
Dain ignores her and looks around to see who else made it?
Dhavyn had a bit of trouble with the broken bridge and almost fell. He managed to scramble past it, however. The cliff also turned out to be dangerous for him, and slowed him down again. But he tricked a couple and pushed one off the cliff and then begin diving around drunks to get to the table.
So 6 Rounds total for Dhavyn despite his promising lead.
ROUND 2
Obstacle 3
ROUND 3
Obstacle 3
ROUND 4
Obstacle 4
ROUND 5
Obstacle 5
ROUND 6
Attempting both Obstacle 5 and 6
Capricia is pleased at her escape from Carlsson and Tobias, even if both men were somewhat attractive in their own ways. But now's the time for business, not pleasure. When the gunshot reverberates through the air and Capricia gets her first glance at Captain Lanteri, the redhead sees the answer to her current predicament. She also sees, perhaps, herself in the future--a well-dressed, no nonsense, female pirate captain. In a flash, Capricia resolves to win the race and join Varossa's crew...even as she plumbs the depths of her memory for any tidbits she may have heard about Captain Lanteri.
ROUND 1
Obstacles 1 & 2
Capricia spies an opening in the crowd and tries to make it even bigger, granting her--perhaps--the early lead in the race.
"STEP ASIDE, knaves! Important personage coming through!" she shouts in a fairly loud and harsh tone, especially coming from a pretty young lady. She shoots forward for the gap in the crowd as a few folk turn to see what (or whom) she's yelling about.
Obstacle 2
Capricia's grinning wildly as her early gambit pays off, but then she realizes she's got company: The dwarf and blue fellow from the drinking contest are right there with her, competing for the early lead. When she spies the chokepoint, the crafty redhead initially plans on following in the burly dwarf's wake when he tries to plow his own path through the crowd, but that goes out the window when the barrel-chested fellow makes a sudden sharp detour. Nearsighted as she is, Capricia has no idea what the dwarf sees or thinks he sees, so she takes a deep breath and tries to hit the slightest of creases in the crowd to burst through. Her progress is denied!
ROUND 2 (Obstacle 2)
Again, Capricia tries to force and squirm her way through the chokepoint. Denied again!
ROUND 3 (Obstacle 2)
"Let...me...THROUGH!!" Depsite her exasperated plea/demand, Capricia's actually pushed backward by the crowd and is in danger of getting pinned against the outer wall of a nearby building.
ROUND 4 (Obstacle 2)
Seeing her dreams evaporating before her eyes, Capricia isn't above elbowing a nearby fellow in the groin to gain a bit of space for her next attempt at pushing through.
ROUND 5 (Obstacle 2)
Now thoroughly pissed, Capricia starts swearing as she slams into folks blocking her way to what she'd thought was her pre-ordained glory. At last, she bursts through and sees some open street ahead!
ROUND 6 (Obstacles 3 & 4)
The open street doesn't last long--there's another chokepoint at a bridge. Ah--but there's another damaged bridge nearby! Capricia decides to try her luck at the uncrowded second choice....
Again, Capricia's overconfidence at a brief display of excellence threatens to derail her chances; she's so pleased at her performance at the broken bridge that she doesn't notice a burly ambusher on the other side until she's nearly upon him. At the last second, the young redhead lowers her shoulder, grits her teeth, and tries to knock the goon into the drink! *SPLASH!*
ROUND 7 (Obstacle 5)
Capricia lets out a stream of amused laughter to taunt the fellow in the bay and dances gracefully long the edge of the cliffs...until her path is blocked by a slower, less graceful female half-orc. "Coming through!" Capricia says, trying to be diplomatic, but the half-orc will have none of it. "Ain't no way I'm losin' to a prissy li'l princess like you!" the halfbreed snarls, trying to knock Capricia into the harbor, but Capricia tries the same dirty trick and the same dirty time!
ROUND 8 (Obstacle 5)
The half-orc wins the exchange, tossing the redhead on her butt at the cliff's edge. "Say 'ello to da fishies!" the brute-woman sneers as she tries to kick-push the human into the drink. Capricia grabs a rocky outcropping with her hands and tries to counter by kicking the bigger woman square in the kneecap. Her right boot connects solidly, causing the half-orc's leg to buckler; in a flash, Capricia swivels her hips and drives her left boot into the halfbreed's other hip, overbalancing the wounded creep and sending her tumbling off the cliff and into the harbor. Capricia sees that she's not going to win this race, but she's determined to finish it...and in style!
ROUND 9 (Obstacle 6)
The graceful and acrobatic redhead has little trouble dodging the drunks gathered on the ramp leading up to the front doors of the God's Revel Inn. Deciding that she might need to make a lasting impression to win Lanteri's favor, she bursts inside and tries to leap onto a tabletop, swing across the room a bit on a chandelier, and then nail her dismount onto another tabletop across the room.
Round 3:
Barnabus sees the bridges and the athletic challenges they present. He rages as a free action, screaming for all to hear, and then climbs over the crowded bridge, then runs and leaps over the broken bridge, landing in stride. He sees the stragglers at Founder's Square and uses the haft of his longhammer to bull rush them into water! He continues the race with a smile on his face.
Round 4:
Barnabus runs along the cliff edge and trips the fool who tries to push him into the harbor, using his longhammer! And then he sprints with all his speed to the inn and scales the ramp in record time!
He enters the inn, confident no one beat his time!
The God’s Revel Inn is a two-story building made of old but sturdy wood and the occasional bit of tarnished brass. The interior is brightly lit with oil lamps and smells strongly of unwashed bodies and smoky fires.
Benches are scattered around mismatched tables and crates.
In the center of the main room’s floor is a recessed circle of hardpacked earth, ringed by a series of heavy posts connected by fraying rope. A second-floor balcony overlooks the ring and part of the main floor. A wide stairway leads up to a small landing near the earthen ring, then continues up to the second floor.
Barnabus bursts through the door as the first racer to arrive with the next closest racers many seconds behind them as they struggle to make their way through the race. When they enter the Inn a huge muscular man covered in scars approaches flanked by two burly half orcs,
"I'm Huldren, the last challenge in Captain Lanteri’s race, and anyone who wants to go upstairs has to go through me and the boys here," the scarred man says, cracking his knuckles and giving Barnabus a threatening leer. The half orcs low self congratulatory chuckling lends to the lie. "If you want to go up there step in the pit with me, we fight using Lilywhite rules no using that hammer I see," as he is talking his friends enter the pit and he holds the ropes open invitingly. "Enter if you are man enough little friend."
Huldren is lying about being a challenge, he wishes to join the crew as well and wants to knock out the real winners before claiming to be the victor himself
Given that Barnabus has no ranks in Sense Motive and is currently raging, he tends to believe them. He scowls at them, spit falling down his chin, as he drops his hammer outside the ring and enters the pit.
Barnabus
Darryl
Carl
Huldren
I have never really messed around with online maps but here comes a try, click this link to view the map, should be able to edit so move as you wish.
A raging Barnabus charges Huldren and brings his cestus up into Huldren's jaw!
Barnabus charges forward yelling as spittle flys from his mouth, he brings his fist up and powers it through Huldrens Jaw. He looks stunned for a second but manages to regain his wits as he mounts an attack. All three of your combatants surround you and lash out.
Barnabus continues to rage and hits the same guy he hit last round.
Huldren grunts as the blow connects squarely on his jaw, he shakes the blow off as he prepares to retaliate. The Half Orcs also step forward swinging their fists in a rage hoping to land a decisive blow.