The Sun shines high on the coastal town of Sandpoint on this early autumn day. An unseasonably warm wind blows in off of the ocean as a trio of gulls float lazily above the beach. However while the sands of Sandpoint's coast are calm, the town itself is anything but.
Streamers and pennants fly from the roofs of every house, building and flag pole. Brightly colored tents are being erected in the square before the town's cathedral, where merchants set up to hawk foods, clothing and other homespun crafts. The towns three Inns have thrown open their doors and each has prepared a veritable feast for the townsfolk and her visitors.
And of course, there are the people. Locals and travelers alike have already started to mill through the streets and paths of the town, smiling and laughing with each other, watching the impromptu performances that have already started to spring up on any free patch of grass that can be found.
Today is the Swallowtail Festival, and it is a beautiful day indeed.
You have wandered into Sandpoint to view how these lowlanders worship the Gods. What you have found is quite the celebration. As people push and jostle past, you stop and watch a family of Varisians who have set up camp on a small patch of grass. two women, one middle aged and one barely past maidenhood, twirl and dance. their bodies moving in flashes and swirls of color from their many scarves, jingling from earings and jewelry. Two men sit to the side, one strumming a lute while the other beats frantically at a drum. You watch with interest and two older women, also Varisian from the look of it, begin to sing from the edge of the crowd, their words matching seamlessly with the music.
Enjoying the show, your nose catches the wafting smells of a number of delicious foods
Brogimchiagle is a mild tempered barbarian gnome. He enjoys nature and having a decent conversations. True to his barbarian nature, he also enjoys a good brawl more often then less often.
With his long white hair, usually tied back in a ponytail he wears white hide armor that matches his hair and a great sword strapped to his back. Due to the lack of money that is the only possessions that he has.
Finding himself in the village of Sandpoint and penniless he sets of to find a way to earn some money or be of service to get some of the delicious food that he is smelling and some descent conversation...
For your part you make your further into the festivals main square. All around you people laugh and mingle, your nose is overwhelmed with a hundred different scents. You pass by a small family of Varisians who are dancing and singing as they are watched calmly by a Varisian crone who seems absolutely ancient.
Of the four, the Dragon tent and the Knight's tent have the two longest lines. you can see that the Dragon's tent is currently passing out baked goods, though you can smell heartier foods from inside the tent, while a beautiful oriental woman, dressed in a dark red vest and black trousers with her straight black hair pinned up and her bangs colored a vivid red and blue, plucks away at her lute. The Knight's tent has a large assortment of kegs tapped, and the beer and ale is flowing!
Her long, tawny cougar, Llyan, is at her side, eyeing the Rusty Dragon's meat-on-a-stick products with poorly concealed interest. Though Llyan is known in town as a "tame" beast and a blessing to have around when wolves come calling, mothers tend to keep their toddlers close when she's around.
They make their way to the square and look around for Sheriff Hemlock.
(knowledge local)
The next morning you awake, study your tomes and books for the morning and then descend the oak stairs to the common room, and find it all but deserted. Neither of you are surprised though, you heard the talk of the coming festival last night. So with that in mind decide to skip breakfast and head straight out into the town you left behind.
While a small town, Sandpoint's festvals have always been lively ones. Today is no exception as the streets bustle with all sorts, many of whom you are sure aren't locals, you even spot a pair of Dwarves entering into town along the same road you took last night.
But for now it seems your plans are delayed, because as you can plainly see on entering along the south road, Sandpoint is in the middle of a festival! All around the town musicians play as small crowds gather, vendors shout for any who pass by to sample their wares and the entire place just has an air of cheer about it. And as you move further in you can see that it only gets livelier as you head north.
My goodness. The locals appear to have some sort of festival on. That will probably make doing business a trifle difficult...
...although, chances are, some of the local wares will probably be on sale, so it might be a good opportunity to unobtrusively get an idea of the quality of the local glass-working...
Morthos turns to Kazgrym:
"It seems that today is not a good day for business. Shall we join the celebration? I dare say the beer will not be quite the same as back home, but it will be nice to have something to cleanse the dust of the road from my throat..."
Assuming that Kazgrym does not object, Morthos will slowly, but inexorably, push his way forward to the centre of town, in search of a good ale, but at the same time, keeping his eye out for evidence of the locally-produced glass...
You are able to easily spot Belor. The large Shoanti stands on one side of the erected stage. He is dressed in his typical chainmail and dusty blue tunic, and his his hand resting easily on the hand-and-a-half sword sheathed at his side. His expression is, as always, a dour and serious one.
Llyan prowls along the edges of the road, sniffing at the grass in hunt for any discarded bits of food. Her search leads her to a group of Varisians. They're instruments playing an upbeat melody as a middle aged woman sings and two younger women dance frenetically. Llyan sidles over to the oldest of the group, and absolutely ancient crone of a woman, who you know as Madame Mvashti. Mvashti is a Varisian historian and seer, one of great respect to her people. She has lived in Sandpoint for as long as the town has stood and mostly survives now on the kindness of the locals, as well as the druids of the region, who will often accompany her on the long walks that she is still fond of taking.
Pellynor stopped just before the street and re-adjusted his Earth is Breaker on his back. One could never be to careful after all, even in your hometown . As he headed out to the festival to honour the goddess Desna he wondered where he should start his first day home.
(still figuring out how to show dice rolls... 11 on knowledge religion)
Spells: 0- Mending, Guidance, Resistance
1- Command, enlarge person (domain)
At Morthos's question, Kaz wholeheartedly agrees that sampling to local wares might be enjoyable, since it seems like everything is going to be in festival mode as opposed to business mode. "You never know. There might be one or two who know how to brew a decent ale around here. We must try them all and find the best in town."
Immless looks around himself, tasting the air and absorbing everything. "It's a good fair, the town has really outdone itself on this one"
He watches the Varisians dance for awhile, trying to guess how old the woman is and counting her forehead wrinkles.
After standing for a bit, Immless' pack starts to get heavy, and he starts looking to see if Pillbug has a stall at the festival.
"Well met, Belor. How goes the day? Any sign of these ne'er-do-wells, or just the usual public drunkenness and airing of petty feuds?"
Disheartened by the lack of dropped food, Llyan rejoins Elodie, scanning the square for suspicious strangers. Especially ones with sausages.
But all the gets swept away as you spy something that makes you take a triple take. Sauntering nonchalantly through the crowd, with his stark white hair pulled back in a long ponytail and a great sword strapped to his back, wearing what looks like the skins and hides of different animals no less, is your cousing Brogimchiagle! You stand agape for a moment as he stands indecisively between the tents for the Rusty Dragon Tavern, and the Two Knights Brewery.
The first shock however, comes quickly, as you arrive in the main square and, you see that the priest standing patiently near the back of stage is in fact, not Father Tobyn.
Never the less, Pellynor straighten his shoulders and strolled towards the new priest. Even if the man was not Father Tobyn, he must have had his blessing to take his place and if such a man was good enough in Tobyn's eyes, then surely he should be in his as well. Patting the secret compartment in his armour to ensure that it still contained his small flask of merriment (purely for honouring Cayden Cailean of course), Pellyor raised a hand and greeted the man.
"Hail brother. How does the first day of Swallowtail greet you?"
"Nothing of the sort, so far, he replies to you matter of factly, "But in truth, the festival is just beginning, so we will see."
As you converse quietly at the side of the stage, a young man with cropped brown hair, dressed in scale mail and with a Shoanti Earth breaker on his back approaches Father Zantus, who is standing beside Belor.
As you converse with the priest, you are surprised to see a cougar, of all things, sidle up lazily towards you.
"Tch, Llyan, give the gentleman some space!" Elodie laughs, then turns to the newcomer. "She means no disrespect."
Looking closer at the young cleric, she smiles. "Welcome to the Swallowtail Festival, sir. Your face seems familiar, but I can't put a name to it. Do you have kin in town?"
Varisians, festivals, and apothecaries all are forgotten in a moment. Brogimchiagle! how did he get here? oh, who cares, how can I prank him good? Imless then remembers something about pranking Brogimchiagle, and how it tended to lead to a beating. hmm... on second thought...
It's not easy to get through the crowd with the pack on his back, but somehow, Immless makes up behind the other gnome, and immediately claps an arm around him "Brogimchiagle! How ever did you make it here! Come and have a drink with me!" And starts pushing him in the direction of whichever of those tents looks more likely to serve cheap beer in pints.
I wonder what is in this tent.... Brogimchaigle feels an arm wrap around his arm and feels the need to pummel this person who dares touch him. But before he could react on his barbarian way, it was soothed with a promise of beer and a few heartbeats later it registered that he was called cousin. Cousin, I have no cou... "Cousin Immless! What in all that is infuriating are you doing here?"
[A loud growl of Brogimchaigle's stomach.]
Hmmm... Perhaps there is even more to this township than I had hoped...
He is surprised that the merchant does not wait for payment, but shrugs, and takes a hearty swallow from the pint mug, savoring the smokey taste of the fine brew.
"What do you think, Kaz? I know it is not the same as the stuff back home, but for a human brew, it is quite exceptional."
He will then make a point of complimenting the brewer on his creation, and then wordlessly hand over 4cp as he finishes draining the mug, with much appreciative smacking of lips.
"That certainly helped to clear the dust of the road!"
"Indeed, this is well received. Come, brewer, tell us your secret, and have one yourself. Another round for us."
Kaz pulls two silvers out of his purse and spins them on the table, and slides the coppers back at Morthos.
"This round is on me."
He then holds up the mug to the owl on his shoulder, who bends down to take a few licks of the beer. When the owl straightens up, there's foam on its beak.
"It's quite alright" Pellynor said, "Allow me to introduce yourself. My name is Pellynor Thorhold, a member of the brotherhood of Cayden Cailean and... a citizen of Sandpoint a long time ago. I'm afraid that you both have a me at a disadvantage."
"Fair enough. This round is on you; but I insist on having the honor of the next one."
He then accepts the proffered second mug, and raising it to the health of both the innkeeper and Kazgrym, begins to quaff it with every sign of enjoyment.
"I'm just back for the festival, but I lived here for awhile, and did my first apprenticeship with the Apothecary in town - how did you get here?" Immless Doesn't really wait for an answer, pushing Brogimchiagle into the tent with the two Knights, all the while inspecting the other Gnomes quipment, feeling the various furs and wondering where they came from, and why one was spotted, and one smelled of ashes.
The small adventureres plunk themselves down in any seats available (all the better if there is a table or two for small folk ) and Immless slides a few coin over for some beer and looks about to see if there is a pot of stew, or if they will have to move after the round. He looks about the room, suddenly interested in his surroundings, all the while peppering the more stoic barbarian with questions."When did you leave Sanos? How did you make it to the plateau? have you been to Caer Maga, it's amazing! Where did that fur come from? Do you think this tent is pretty fire-proof? Any idea what happened to Uncle Rickeltiat?" ... Immless is starting to get red in the face by the time the beer comes, and starts merrily drinking without pause.
"I'm Elodie Silverfern, and this saucy wench is Llyan. We usually keep to the edge of town, helping those who need a hand and keeping an eye or two on the borders. We wouldn't miss the Festival, of course."
Glancing at Pellynor's armor and weapons, Elodie notes that the young cleric seems a bit overdressed for a day of beer, sack races and throwing fruit at bards. "Are you in town for the Festival, too? Or just passing through?"
"Apo whatchemewhats? If I didn't knew you better I would have thought you drunk... Let's get some beer before you talk me to death with your questions."
Brogimchiagle and his cousin Immless make their way to the bar and over some beers caught up on their travels. Also he explained in detail how he had to fight everyone of the animals that he made his armor from.
"I don't know if this tent is fire proof, but as soon as a brawl brakes out, we can find out..."
For Everyone
The festival continues until the sun his high in the sky, and a woman that any local would recognize as the Mayor of Sandpoint ascends the stairs of the stage and walks to the center podium. "My friends she calls out, to the crowd and a hush comes over them, "Never let anyone tell you, that we don't know how to throw a party! Look at where we were less than ten years ago, and what we have made of ourselves now, how we have come together, to keep each other strong!" her eyes scan over the crowd, her face bright and smiling, "I mean by Desna, even Larz Rovanky has managed to pull himself away from his Tannery to be here with us today!" She smiles even wider as the crowd laughs at her joke. "As always, our lovely Inns have all chipped in to provide you with a delicious feast. The Rusty Dragon has a wonderful Curry Salmon and an early winterdrop mead. The White Deer's famous peppercorn venison is back for another year and the Hagfish has a wonderful smelling seafood chowder..." The mayor continues on about the days events before turning the podium over to Sheriff Hemlock.
The Sheriff steps away from a conversation with a young Druid and Cleric and stares at the crowd, his face stoic and grave. [b]"Today is a celebration, but let us not forget what it was that brought us here. Please join with me in a moment of silence, for all those we have lost. For the Chopper's victims and for Father Tobyn, his ward Nualia, and all those lost in the fire." He bows his head and the crowd follows suit. After a minute, the Sheriff reminds everyone to be safe, especially around bonfire tonight, and then passes the podium off to the next speaker.
[ooc] To warn everyone we will be jumping ahead fairly soon.
As the speaker went on, Pellynor felt his anticipation for the feast growing (especially so with the mention of the White Deer’s peppercorn venison) and he sensed that the crowds’ hunger was close to matching his own. His domineer quickly fell as the Sheriff took the stand and paid homage to the memory of the victims of Sandpoint’s bloodied past. After the sheriff finishes his careful reminders, he mummers “Yes, just passing through”.
"... and another thing! How come there are never any short tables in these places?! It's like they think we don't like beer!"
Immless was still sitting with his cousin when the speech started. Stomach growling and head starting to spin, the tottering gnome gathers up his belongings and grabs Brogimchiagle, heading for the white deer, thoughts of venison dancing in his addled brain.
Out on the busy street, Immless manages to control himself enough to act normally, winding through the crowd towards the White Deer. Still nattering away to his cousin, without checking to see if he's following.
Brogimchiagle got dragged out of the tent spilling his beer while his cousin is yapping away just like a drunk gnome could.
"There are never any short tables, because the people use them for benches my dear cousin."
As Brogimchiagle and his cousin were walking down the street to seemingly no destination, keeping an eye on his beer influenced cousin that is not hiding it very well, is looking around to see if there is anything of importance.
The opening ceremonies continue with a few more key speeches before Father Zantus excuses himself from his conversation and takes the stage. Two of his acolytes wheel large covered wagon into the center of the square. And as the father recounts a fable of how the Goddess Desna fell to Golarion and was nursed to health by a blind child. As the father reaches the end of his tale he explains that in thanks, Desna transformed the child into an immortal butterfly. At these words, the Acolytes pull back the covering of the wagon and a storm of swallowtail butterflies, the Children of Desna, rush into the air. The Swallowtail festival has officially begun.
The festival continues on for the day. The food is delicious and you end up sampling all three meals, and while the Venison is delicious, the curry salmon being offered by Young Akeiko Kaijitsu is by far the tastiest dish.
Many of you probably end up frequenting the Rusty Dragon's tent as Ameiko, an excellent Bard and performer in her own right, is quick to lead any number of raucous songs, evened out by some more professional compositions of her own.
This all continues until the sun is just setting on the western horizon. Once more Father Zantus takes the stage for the most important event of the day, the consecration of the new temple. He raises a small stone and bangs it against the podium, giving off a massive crack! a sound like distant thunder. A stray dog crawls out from under a nearby wagon, awakened by the thunderstone, and Father Zantus opens his mouth to speak.
Suddenly, a woman's scream slices the air! followed a moment later by another, and then another! These screams are followed by more voices, high pitched tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with sadistic glee as the stray dog gives a yelp and then collapses in a gurgle, its throat slit ear to ear. As it dies in the pooling blood, a strange song fills the air, growing louder with each shrill and scratchy voice.
"I've been out of Sandpoint for a long time, care to show an old resident where the best food is these days?"
LATER
With a belly warm and content from a number of glorious feasts, Pellynor stepped out into the fair grounds with the crowds as the consecration was about to begin. He reaches into his armour once more to offer Cayden Cailean's blessings on the festival. No sooner does the sacrament reach his lips when a scream rings out, nearly causing him to drop his ornate flask.
The shadows are growing long when Immless wakes up from a nap under a tree, sleeping off too much food and beer. The cool evening wind is refreshing, and he wakes up quickly, eagerly jumping up to find something, anything that he hasn't seen yet in this town. The small gnome is contemplating where to go when he remembers that he hasn't yet seen Pillbug, and so he hefts his pack up and starts off in that direction.
By chance, Immless is only a street away when he hears the speech beginning. He wanders over, and listens to the story - it's one that he's heard before in this town, but the idea of turning into a butterfly has always fascinated him. When the Cleric raises the small stone, the gnome covers his ears, waiting for the the boom that he knows is coming.
The screams, however, are unexpected. Quickly tossing his backpack into a corner, the gnome looks down and realises that he isn't wearing his armour! reaching to his sash, he grabs two small vials, and dumps them into his mouth, feeling the hiss of the alchemical reaction a split second before the air around his body starts to buzz.
Brogimchiagle was listening very intently too the speech since he had never heard it before. There were a lot of people and he found a wagon at the back of the crowd to see the ceremony.
"Are all this screams part of the ceremony?If so it is kind of strange...
He pears over the people's heads to see what's going on.
The first one that the crowd sees is the Goblin in the Wagon's shadow, eyeing the crowd, his eyes center on the large Cat and her owner, and its eyes narrow, it lets out another shriek and charges toward Elodie "Stupid Longshanks stupid Doggy!" The little horror's Dogslicer slashes forward...
He misses by a mile, you shift your weight to the side to avoid the lunge and prepare to fight.
A second Goblin comes screaming out of the shadows of a roof and takes a flying leap for Kazgrym
However, Kaz hears the shrieking scream and looks up, to see a Goblin fall past him and slam hard into the ground, the Goblin lies there, moaning on the ground.
a Third Goblin runs down the road, waving a torch wildly at fleeing citizens. You watch incredulously as the little monster trips and sets himself on fire, immolating himself.
As chaos reigns, a final Goblin comes running out from a hiding spot in the Two Knights Brewery tent and aims a rusted shortbow at Brogimchiagle
but you hear the snap of the bow just in time and twist yourself, the arrow glancing off the hides of your armor.
Stowing his flask with one hand, Pellynor reaches back for his great Earth Breaker as he charges forward towards the Goblin armed with the bow. A great surge of adrenaline focuses his eyes on his target and with a mighty swing he brings the hammer down at the goblin. The ugly creature makes screeches as the cleric bears down on him and barely jumps out of the way.