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Attempt the first.
Starting from the beginning.
As you arrive in Sandpoint late in the afternoon, you hear talk of the festival the next day. You are staying at the Rusty Dragon inn.
Gwestiel gets her room for the night and stretches. She communes with her familiar and prepares spells, then gets ready to head out into the town.
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Kisper sits in the main room, casually sharpening his sword at a booth. He sips gently at his ale, not wanting to get drunk. His katana is old, but finely made. Where it not for how aged the blade was, it would have been of master quality.
He currently wore no armor, after all it wasn't comfortable to always be armed. He kept it all upstairs in his room. He wore a strange Hat and remained silent. It was clear he was a catfolk, his tail waving gently side to side.
As sun sinks low in the sky the door to the Rusty Dragon Inn swings open and a tall, broad-shouldered figure fills the doorframe. Shaking the dusk from his long traveling cloak, the newcomer looks to be a half-orc--over six feet tall and powerfully muscled, his eyes roam the taproom warily, taking in everyone present.
Shrugging off the cloak, he reveals a startling array of ritual scars--lines and whorls of raised scar tissue, azure-blue in color, scrawl over every inch of visible skin save his face, including his neck and the top of his carefully shaved head. A rough leather baldric is slung across his chest, the hilt of a long falchion visible above his right shoulder and the butts of several javelins poking up behind his left.
His heavy boots thudding on wooden floor, the half-ork makes his way over to the bar, where he quietly says "I want a drink, and a room for the next few nights. Er, please."
Sitting at a table in the middle of the room, Cade enjoys a game of cards with the locals. He is polite when he loses and generous when he wins. His clothes are stylish, well kept and his manors are those that one would see more often in court then in some small town. His weapons belt hangs around his waist, a rapier hangs on the left side and an empty sword frog hangs on the right side.
The middle of the table is piled with small pile of coins, mostly silver. The item that sticks out is a weapon of odd sorts. Cade smiles wide when he pulls that pile and the weapon towards him. A human merchant stand up and the room gets a little quiet, waiting to see what will happen. The human staring down at the Halfling just shakes his head in confusion. You traveled all this way for a dagger. Cade looks up at the man and with a bright smile..It is not a dagger master merchant it is a main gauche and not just an ordinary one. This one is crafted of fine steel by the Windlass master blade smiths of old with soft yet tough Tasmanian Devil leather wrapping the hilt. The design on the hand guard was etched by a one handed blind monk. The blade strong and true that shows no blemish. It is of value, a great deal of value. The human laughs a great big belly laugh young Halfling are you sure you and I are looking at the same weapon. This weapon is maybe worth three silver crowns tops,...if I am lucky. There are no special qualities about this weapon The young Halfling takes the weapon from the table with the coins and turns to walk away. All at the card table were watching the exchange of words with curiosity. Over his shoulder Cade simply states The weapon has been handed down in my family for several generations and that is the description that comes with it. It is a family treasure that has been recovered and returned to its rightful owner. I thank you for the game and I am sorry for the lightening of your purse, I will drink it well. With the weapon back in his family's hands, he might as well find the other pieces that were lost over the generations. Cade had no idea as to where to begin looking for the two gems or the Ioun Stone. The dormant weapon needed those treasures to come to full power. Cade makes his way back to his room to stow his belongings away and to freshen up before he heads down to the main room of the Rusty Dragon.
A young woman reading a somewhat obscure book on the history of Varisia sits in the corner of the tavern by herself, dinner mostly untouched, but a couple wine glasses sit empty on the table.
Her head pokes up from behind her tome as the doors blast open and half-orc of prodigious size walks through, and again when the card game meets it's stylish conclusion. What interesting people in Sandpoint tonight. The festival does bring travelers from all around I suppose. She meets any gaze with a warm smile, but makes no attempt to leave her seat.
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Kisper stands, and with a flourish of his blade slides the razor sharp weapon back into his sheathe, making a very distinct sound. A sound that ment someone was to die before it was heard again...
He noticed the half-orc walk in and the halfling making a deal. Seeing the orcs weapon he figured he was a warrior like him... as for the halfling... he strode over to the short one and smiled. "Can Kisper buy you a drink?" he asks, looking him up and down. "After all, one like you can bartter almost anything from an idiot..." he chuckles.
He waved a maid close and offered to buy whatever the halfling wanted, "This one is in town to find a master smith... to forge him a fine exotic blade... or at least reforge one."
Cade looks up at the Catfolk..
Cat whisperer what? oh Kisper...ok glad I did not say anything out loud this time.
I am always eager for more drink. I am Cade Goodbarrel...Lord...Kisper is it? Please come and join me. Barter? What is it you are looking to barter?
As Kisper waves the maid over
Me Lady, I will take another Juniper Mead. Please and thank you.
His eye roam up and down the catfolk and his weapons.
There are a few weapon smiths in town. I have not had need of them, so my information on their work is limited at best.
His eyes come up from the weapons.
You will be very hard pressed to find anyone around here who will be able to replicate the work that went into your weapons.
Gwestiel made her way to the common room. Surprisingly, she was far from the strangest person in there, at least going by appearance. The odd men seemed to be talking about weapons, a subject of little interest to Gwestiel, though she was somewhat fascinated by the catfolk. Her compsognathus flitted about her soldiers, curiously taking in the room. Gwestiel got herself a bit of wine, then settled down at an empty table to people watch.
Accepting his tankard of mead and room key, Kargas turns agains survey the room. He stares with interest at the catfolk conversing with the halfling. Werefolk maybe? Blood of spirits, to think I was worried they might run me out of town.
Shrugging his rucksack and baldric off his shoulders before approaching the woman in the corner. Didn't eat, but has been drinking. Might make this easier. Standing before her, he hesitates a moment and then clears his throat, looking...if not apologetic, then somewhat uncomfortable.
"I see you have a book, there. I'm hoping that means you can help me out with somthing. Can I sit?"
Flo does her best to conceal a smile as the large half-orc awkwardly towers over her, waiting for him to say something. When he finally does, she closes her book and looks at him. What on earth could being in possession of a book indicate in terms of help? What an odd fellow.
"Of course, you are free to join me!" she says with a smile, gesturing to the chair in front of her. "What can this person with a book do for you?" she says with an amused look on her face. Before you can answer, she extends a hand, "I'm Floredana Mandulescu, by the way, but you can call me Flo!"
A rather large head of neatly trimmed black hair peeks into the common room from outside, along with what appears to be most of a very large man. "Er, excuse me, miss?" he calls to one of the waiters. She hurries over and a short whispered conversation commences, before the girl hurries of to find Ameiko. A similarly short conversation ensues, and Ameiko goes to the door, going outside to talk with the man.
Sliding into a chair opposite, he drops his back and baldric to the floor beside himself, wincing at the bundle's clanking and clattering and glancing around the common room to see if the noise had drawn any attention. Satisfied that it had not, he turned back to the woman before him. "Yeah, Flo, hello. I'm called Kargas, of the Stormscar tribe. I'm looking for something the drunks in Kaer Maga called the "Sandpoint Devil." Or something else equally mean and impressive, if you've got it.
Pulling a crude map of the region from his pack, he smooths it out on the table. "Does it live somewhere near here? This is the only place marked "Sandpoint" I could find."
Ah, a monster hunter. Makes sense now.
"I have heard tales of this devil, but never performed any research on the subject. As far as Sandpoint goes, this is the one and only! Are you a monster hunter of sorts? If so, Varisia is a prime spot. There are all manner of massive beasts in this country alone. The Storval Plateau, Cinderlands, and the Mindspin Mountains are all notorious areas for anything considered 'mean and impressive.' I could dig up some real information on the Sandpoint Devil, if you'd like to make a deal." Remembering her food, now cold, she starts to eat it, following every couple of bites with a swig of wine.
Barking a grim laugh, the half-orc takes a long draw from his tankard before answering. His voice bitter, he mutters, "The Laac-Irgun chose me, I'm a spirit warrior. But Gurek Sevenskins and his bootlickers don't like that I'm a half-breed, so they gave me the hardest damn test they could think of--a "great beast's head"? They didn't even say what kind! They're hoping I die out here and they never have to deal with me again..."
Shaking his head, he clamps his mouth shut and stares down at the table for a long moment before glancing back up. "Sorry. You don't care about that. What kind of a deal?"
Momentarily stunned, Flo stops eating mid bite while Kargas vents. Woah, clearly this is a touchy subject for him. I'll keep questions to a minimum until he calms down... Recovering herself, she finishes her bite of food and continues.
"In exchange for researching this beast, you will allow me to accompany you when you seek to slay it. Do we have a deal?"
Regardless of his answer, Flo will gather her things and move to leave the table, intending to retire for the night. "Tomorrow is a big festival for the town. This will be my first time attending and I would appreciate the company. Would you be willing to explore it together? I also have many questions on the things you just said, as well as those markings on your body. What do you say?"
Their conversation concluded, Flo wishes Kargas a warm good night and heads up to bed. Part way up the stairs she turns, "I lead a group prayer every morning to Desna. Join me if you wish!" Then continues to her room.
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Kisper sighs, seems he's been having trouble finding smiths... "Ah, and kisper has only found rudimentary smith. It has been a long and harrowing jouney, and folding steel is such a rare technique...
He drinks from his mug and gives the maid a few coins with square holes in the middle.
"But You small folk are said to be great luck, even if the tales are not true, surely you have enough skill to garner the information as to the whereabouts of a Smith with at least an available workshop?"
Surprised at the request, Kargas readily assents, swallowing his questions as to why she'd want to come on such a venture--though he watches her head up the stairs with a thoughtful frown.
Finishing off his mead, he throws another glance at the window in case the big stranger had put in another appearance, but no such luck. Ordering another round, he watches the cat-man and halfling with interest.
Well as I said those blades will be hard pressed to reproduce. Even the Windlass' would have a hell of a time to do them justice. Tomorrow is the festival and there will be all sorts of merchants in town. You should try your luck around town then.
Head swimming a little after downing his second ale a little too quickly, should have gotten some food too, Kargas scrapes his chair back as he stands. Shouldering his gear, he thumps his way up the stairs to his room.
Just letting you roleplay to get your characters familiar.
Cade stays in the common room for the rest of the night. He decides that he will drink and gamble the night away.
Gwestiel will not introduce herself. She knows she is here for a purpose, and will wait for that purpose to manifest. She notes the people and their manner, though.
Loktar settles down in his stall in the stables, making half-hearted attempts to communicate with the half-taur (horses) in the other stalls. He still hasn't found one smart enough to speak a civilized tongue.
When you wake up in the morning, the festival has begun. Vibrant stalls are everywhere, there is banquet with food. There are several contests set up, including the Hagfish, which has an especially full prize bag, and several sick looking men nearby.
A light sleeper long used to waking up early, Kargas is up in the grey light of predawn and comes down the stairs with all his gear--he doesn't have enough possessions to be comfortable leaving anything in the room.
Taking a seat by the door he wait for the strange Flo woman to come down. The sounds and smells coming from the festival setup make his stomach rumble, and the big half-orc grins in anticipation.
Gwestiel again prepares her spells, then heads out, enjoying the festivities. She samples some of the food, feeding excess meat to Cagliostro. The little compsognathus flits about excitedly, consuming it's treats.
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Kisper dons his ornate armor and heads into town. Many possibly note his exotic armor, even the large blade-like spear he carries with red ribbons tied to the haft. he lets those who are curious look over his armor and even allows some children to try on his helmet, although it doesn't quite fit them.
he wanders about, looking for artisans and smiths. he asks various men if he could use their forge, for his own work of course.
when he isn't looking for that he's talking with various people in the town looking for rumors of work, or possibly some gossip
He then looks around for an archery contest.
as he does so, he makes sure everyone can see his weapons and equipment, flaunting them proudly and not holding back when it comes to being the most exotic thing in sight.
he comes off as a bit dickish...
... of course there was always the Centaur...taking away his adoring fans!
With the sun shining through the window, Flo takes a moment to relish in the possibilities of a new day. After a quick stretch, she makes her way downstairs for a quick bite.
"Good morning Kargas! Care for a quick meal before heading out?"
Once they make their way to the festival, Flo becomes giddy with excitement. "Oh! Oh! Let's do a contest!" she says as her pace quickens with anticipation.
Loktar wanders the fair grounds, stepping carefully to avoid bumping or stepping on anyone as he takes in the sights. He soon attracts a crowd, mostly children who are looking for a ride. Loktar obliges, but to their (mild) disappointment, he does not have the room to run like they want.
The sun is shinning through the window onto a set of prone bodies. The sounds of grumbling comes from under a pile of sheets and limbs.
A raspy voice issues out from under the pile
Is it me or does the blasted sun come up way to early in this part of the world? Damn it sun. Leave us alone!
As the pile shifts and moves, two bodies emerge from within.
Good morning.
Cade climbs out and over his guest to stand at the side of his bed. He walks over to the table and splashes some water on himself to clean up. He gets dressed and arms himself.
why are you wearing your armor and weapons, the festival is today. Everyone will be having fun, there is no need for weapons in town.
Cade turns to see the young halfling lass he met at the clothing store the other day. She had met him at the rusty dragon for a late night drink after work. She was on the other side of his bed, getting dressed.
You are correct, but I have come to understand humans. I like them, do not get me wrong. Just that when festivals and human mix, there tends to be drinking...lots of drinking. Not everyone is a happy drunk like us halflings. Humans tend to get rowdy and start fights to prove themselves. I do not want to be at the end of one of those humans without protection.
Cade finishes getting dress and looks in the mirror.
Damn I do look good in this color. Shall we go down stairs for some breakfast?
Cade turns with a smile to see the lovely lass smiling back at him. She steps around the bed and wraps her arms around his waist.
You know it is almost lunch time.
Cade stands still as that sinks in and then...
Well then we had better hurried downstairs before there is nothing left.
After a late breakfast, the young lass heads home leaving Cade alone in the common room. He stands up from the table, leaving enough coin behind to pay for the meal and a generous tip to boot. Cade makes his way out into the late morning light. The town festival is in full swing as Cade makes his way through the different vendors.
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Struggling to juggle his horn of spicy mead and a plate piled high with various festival foods while taking in everything there is to see. Measuring his stride to keep pace with Flo, the half-orc doesn't feel much need to speak, though he's enjoying himself immensely. He, too, draws his share of stares (though few trailing children), though he suspects its as much his openly displayed weapons as his flashy scars. Blood of spirits, there's even a horse-man here! I'm practically a local by comparison.
He's almost managed to crack a lobster shell without spilling any mead when Flo darts forward gushing about contests. Hustling to keep up he calls through a mouthful of shellfish "Wuh kih' uh conteh?"
Gwestiel, upon finding some of the people she'd watched last night speaking of contests, will approach them.
"I'm not sure about others...but I know the Hagfish has theirs going on. You know...drink the waters of Norah's aquarium, hold it down and win a big sack of coins. Nasty stuff, though."
Gwestiel's voice has a dreamlike, ethereal quality, and she doesn't actually look at Flo or Kargas when she speaks. Her gaze is far-off, and her head is tilted to the side, almost as though she's listening to something none of the rest of you can year.
Flo goes a little pale at the thought. "That's... awful... Why would anyone do that?" she ponders. Turning to Kargas, "Is that something you're interested in trying?" I think I smell it a little from here and that is enough to make my stomach turn! I couldn't imagine... drinking it... She shudders.
"Thanks for the information! My name is Floredana, but you can call me Flo! Who are you?" She asks the strange individual before her. Catching Kargas in the middle of a bite, she chimes in, "And this is Kargas!" Clearly in a good mood, she waits with a huge smile for a response.
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Kisper slips up to the group, his armor not very subtle. The waters of that tank are as vile as an aboleth. Thankfully not as dangerous. Kisper greets this one, a fair lady so sweet. he holds out a hand curtiously to take Floredana's and give it a kiss.
As you may have seen, Kisper wears his armor. But why, well He knows that he is exotic and beautiful, and people would admire his fine weapons and armor. he takes off his helmate and holds his Naginata in his off hand. As exotic as he is himself...
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Suddenly strangers are stepping out of the crowd to talk to them--Or, uh, at least kind of in our direction he thinks, eyeing the elven woman a tad confusedly. When the catfolk arrives his eyebrows rise even higher. Quickly draining his horn of mead, he shoves it into his belt to free his right hand. Weird way to say hello, but who am I to judge?
"Right, I'm Kargas," the half-orc confirms, presenting his hand to be kissed.
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Gwestiel eyes Kargas's hand quizzically, then kisses it.
Why not?
"I am called Gwestiel. I'm not quite sure why people would do that...point of pride, maybe? Some like to prove their toughness through silly contests like that...or at least that's what their dreams would indicate. It is...nice...to meet you all."
Cade comes out of a shop followed by a young child. The child is holding several wrapped packages.
If you make it to the rusty dragon before high sun, I will double the tip. His smile is genuine and he watches as the child's face lights up and runs off towards the rusty dragon.
Lifting his mug to his lips, Cade takes a long sip. His eyes dart form side to side as he decides where to go next. Across and down the street he sees someone riding a horse through the festival. He mutters to himself...Stupid idiot, he is bound to trampled someone soon. Where are the guards....ohhhh a centaur. hmm thought they were taller?
A shrug of his shoulders gets Cade moving again.
He passes by dozens of people in a few strides, his nods and greetings are contagious as people seem to be happier as they meet him. He sees all sorts of sites, sounds and creatures. Down the street he sees the catfolk talking to a group of people. Wonder if he found a bladesmith yet?
Cade continues his walk down the street, trying all that is offered from the festival. His traveling coat sways with his motions as his weapons belt rides his hips.
The festival is going along finely, and several of the contests are packed with people.
Loktar comes over to the gathering group, a pair of children still on his back. "Hello there, I am Sir Loktariim Ogara, but most call me Loktar. I would bow, but I suspect I would topple someone from my back," he introduces himself in a friendly manner, trying to glance around at the children hiding among his saddlebags.
Chuckling as the elf kisses his hand, Kargas reaches out to grasp her forearm in a traditional greeting, then does the same for the catfolk, "Well met to you both!
Looking around at the unlikely collection of individuals assembled here, the half-orc nudges Flor with his elbow. "You kind of stick out, all normal-like and stuff." before taking another bite from his plate--and the the centaur approaches.
Kargas' face splits into a grin and he extends his arm to shake. "A hoof-clan warrior, well met! It just so happens I need another drink, would you like one?" Turning to the rest of the motley group, "For that matter, do you all want one? Preferably not tainted by contest-fish sewage?"