Rise of the Runelords

Game Master Lloyd Jackson


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"Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!"

Those were the first words to greet you as you entered the town of Sandpoint. Painted in white on a sign made of rough board with a small metal mirror nailed above them. The sign is usually the only guard for the wooden bridge which crosses the Turandarok river into the southern side of town. Though occasionally someone is fishing from the bridge, or children are diving from it, despite the warnings of the parents.

What was once a larger-than-normal Varisian camp site in the shadow of an ancient ruined tower has become the Lost Coast's largest town. Nestled among the cliffs where the Turnadarok meets the Varisian Gulf in a natural harbor some 50 miles northeast of Magnimar. Though nominally beholden to the larger city, those living in Sandpoint and the surrounding farms handle their own affairs. Aside from the occasional goblin, there usually isn't much to worry about. The area is currently in that strange spot of too big yet too small, too distant and yet too close for larger and more deadly troubles to come their way.

It's a nice place, combining the vigor and ambition of Magnimar's Chelaxian merchants with the welcoming and unhurried pace of the native Varisian nomads.

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Today is a special day. After five years, the new cathedral is finished and ready to be dedicated during this year's Swallowtail festival. Residents and travelers have all gathered for the celebrations. That the locals inn will be providing a free lunch, and that there will be no market fees certain hasn't hurt. The turnout for the opening speeches is quite respectable, and the four keynote speakers each deliver short but well-received welcomes to the festival. Mayor Deverin's friendly attitude and excitement prove contagious as she welcomes visitors to town and jokes about how even Larz Rovanky, the local tanner (and notorious workaholic) managed to tear himself away from the tannery to attend, much to everyone's amusement (except Larz's). Sheriff Belor Hemlock brings the crowd down a bit with his dour mood, his reminder to be safe around the evening's bonfire, and his request for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in the fire that claimed the town's previous church several years ago. The next speaker is scheduled to be local nobleman Lonjiku Kaijitsu, but a sudden illness has prevented him from attending the ceremony. Sandpoint's own showman Cyrdak Drokkus is more than up to the challenge ofbringing the crowd's mood back up with his rousing anecdotes. He delivers a not-completely-irreverent recap ofthe long process the town went through to finance and construct the new cathedral. He throws in a bit of self­-promotion at the end, as is his wont, inviting everyone to stop by the Sandpoint Theater the following evening to check out his new production of "The Harpy's Curse," revealing that the lead role of Avis era the harpy queen will be played by none other than the famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda! Finally, Father Zantus steps up to give a short speech thanking everyone for coming before declaring the Swallowtail Festival underway.

This a festival filled with all manner of things to buy, do, or see. Have fun!


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua stands at the back of the crowd, only half listening to the speakers. As the crowd disperses and begins to mingle, he looks around for a prize fight or wrestling match to join.
'Might be able to find Kent and put on a sparring match, if he ain't sleepin' off last night,' Tsakua thinks, as he wanders the streets of Sandpoint., 'Or the Ulfen that came through camp the other night...wouldn't be fair to fight a man with a bad leg, but an arm-wrestling match might draw some coin in...'

Not knowing specifically what activities there are, but only a few would interest Tsakua. Grey, can i take 20 on that check for those or similar events?


Yes. There are several events in the open that might interest Tsakua, or you could try finding something a little less... public.

Alongside the ring tosses and knife throwing are several events that look up your alley. The first is simple enough: Greased Pig. For a few coins you get to jump into a pen with a greased yearling pig. Pin it and drag it to the gate in 30 seconds and the pig is yours. Not a bad looking pig either.

There's also the plank. Springy board over a tub of water graced by the Hagfish's own Norah. Two opponents stand on the board, lock hands, and try to knock each other in.

No signs for a fight that you can see, but you haven't heard anything forbidding it either. Probably ought to find a likely opponent and get Sheriff Hemlock's approval. Gloomy fellow like that probably takes exception to people having fun without his say so.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

After a long day travel from Magnimar, Mary has finally made it to the outskirts of this little town called Sandpoint. She walks into the village with her weaponry sheathed and her musket wrapped in a bedroll.
Mary's intent is to ask the first person she meets to see about where she might rent a room for the day to drop off her gear after her long day of travel.

"Um, excuse me;" she says to anyone that might listen to her. "Do you happen to know if there is a place to stay in town? I just got here and I need to drop this stuff off." As makes a gesture to the two bags she is carrying.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent wandered through the festival, taking stock of all the festivities. While ring tosses and knife throwing seem mighty fun, he eventually comes across the Greased Pig. Chuckling at the thought, he walks up to whoever is manning the attraction. "Looks mighty fun to me. How much do I pay to wrestle that sucker?" He laughs again, watching the hog move about in its pen. "This little fella got a name? Wanna know who to curse while I'm rollin' about in the mud."


Just checking, are you wanting Mary to arrive the evening of the festival or the day before. Either works, you won't miss the main event, so I'm currently going with her arriving in the late afternoon an hour or two before sunset. Correct me if wrong.

Walking across the bridge into the south end of town, the place is mostly deserted. After a minute or two you spot a boy of around 10 with a mop of unruly black curls. "Uhhh... probably. he mumbles while looking slightly confused. "The Dragon is right here, pointing to the large, rusty-red building next to him and the Deer is up there next to the church. pointing up the small slope that divides the town into two sections. But everybody is up there right now for the festival, so... you'll probably have to talk to them there. Yep. Okay bye. and dashes off between two of the building.

It seems like most of the town is up the hill for a celebration of some kind, and one of the inns, and both inn-keepers it seems, are in that direction too.

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

A weather-beaten fellow on the far side of middle-age leans against the pen's railing. "I'm maester Grump, and she's ma peg. 'ree shields silvers for a go." looking you over carefully, Don't 'ave a name, 'ough ye can problee call er bacon." He says this last with a smile that turns his face into a maze of lines and straw-colored beard.

The 'peg' glares at you suspiciously from beady eyes. It's hide glistening with grease. For all that it's a young pig, it still must be near a woman's weight.

To win you must make 5 cmb checks, grappling, 3 of which must be successful and consecutive in order to grapple, pin, and drag your target to the gate. The pig will not attack, but will take an action to attempt escape each round.


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua starts heading over to the plank, but stops as a memory surfaces in his mind. The crack of a weak jaw and a fancy suit covered in mud bring a grin to his face, but just in case, it wouldn't hurt to be careful.
"Didn't make it this far to be jailed by some rich milksop," he mutters to himself. Still, there was a good-sized crowd, and while the large half-orc knew he stood out, he had few enough possessions that he could leave town quickly if he needed to. 'Wonder if the circus made it back to town,' Tsakua thought, heading towards the less open areas of the festival.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent steps up to the pen, handing the the three silver over to the man outside the pen. He takes a few seconds to limber up, stretching his arms before shaking his head, his mane of blonde hair flying about wildly. "Alright, I'm thinkin' I'm ready to wrestle."

Kent grins, cracking his knuckles. He puts a leg up on the edge of the pen, then looks to the man beside the fence. "I'm just gonna hop in, if'n that's alright with you." Before waiting for the man's response, Kent hops over the edge of the fence and launches himself at the pig. "Come'ere, you little sucker! Come to papa!"

Grapple: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Before jumping in, Kent takes a moment to use Martial Flexibility to pick up Improved Grapple.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

That sounds great DM Grey. I think I would like to be able to drop the stuff off before going to the festival so I am not loaded down.

"Thanks kid." Mary makes her way towards the festival to take in the sights and sounds of this event.
"Wow, looks like everyone here is having a lot of fun, and getting ready for fun." And grins as she looks around. "Maybe I can have a bit of fun too."


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

There was warmth here, and life unlike the north. The big man had passed through bigger towns, would, he was sure, visit true cities, but there was something pleasant in people so full of life. So full of fire.

But there were fools too, and fire that burned without control would simply burn out to no good end. So the smith walked in his fashion, bad leg supported by his staff's heft, and even in the day's warmth a glint of steel beneath his heavy cloak betrayed the armor he was wearing. He mostly kept his own company.

The market bustled, as markets do, made the more vivacious by the spirit of the day. Occasionally he would stop to look over some bit of metal wares and share a few words with the person who made it. But he never seemed to see in their eyes the same fire that burned in him. They worked the forge, but the forgelight had not touched them.

Then he came to the pig's pen, where he saw a familiar face: the sot, grappling with a greased pig. Torvald couldn't help but smile at the sight, ridiculous as it was.

"Yer skilled wit' pigs and pig-iron akin, eh?" he called out.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

"Aye, Torvald! Good to see you!" Kent shouts as he wraps his arms around the the beast, trying to keep it subdued despite the grease. His face, covered in mud, emerges over top of the animal. "Enjoying your time here in Sandpoint, friend?"


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

Torvald's smile changed to a smirk. "A strange place, t'is. Far diff'rent t'an t'e north, sure. Yer wrestlin' a pig's a strangeness o' its own!"


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent rolls over several times, his body covered in dirt and mud. As the pig begins to move from him, he wraps his arms around his neck and falls to his back, trying to hold the pig to his body with all of his limbs. "Never seen pig wrestlin'? Been missin' out, Torvald!" Kent chuckles as he holds the squealing sow to his body, clearly having the time of his life.

As he continues to laugh, he feels his grip begin to slip. "Not today, ya little sucker!" As he cements his hold, Kent rolls over on top of the pig, trying to pin it beneath him. "Once I get this darned pig, you and I are gonna have some pork chops!" He struggles with it again, a curious look on his face . "They have pork chops where you're from? They're mighty good!"


dm:

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16

Despite its best efforts, and the liberally applied lubricant, the blacksmith's arms keep a firm hold on the pig, though not as firm as the wrestler would have thought. It would only take a little more ingenuity for the prize to wrestle free. Caught it and kept it! Good job, feel free to continue as you are, or do the next four rolls together.

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

As the half-orc moves to the where the crowd is thicker, he notices the crowd parting for him slightly. It could just be the natural parting for a large person they don't know well, or something more. Hard to say. The most prominent half-orc in town Gorvi, head dung-sweeper and one of the more obnoxious drunks, hasn't done much to disprove stereotypes though.

Most of the games and stalls are purely for fun, or those with coin to spare, either on household items or luxuries, but you see a fleshy, balding fellow arm-wrestling with another man across the counter of his stall. The word 'Vinder's' written in chalk on the top board. An assortment of pies, candies, twine, and other sundry goods people usually want from a festival.

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

Heading up the hill, the pathfinder moves toward the crowd and celebration. The crowd looks like a gathering of townfolk, farmers, and merchants, much like such things are anywhere. This may be your best chance to purchase some of the less common supplies you might need. This place is far removed from the cosmopolitan Inner Sea. There also appear to be a number of entertainments to be had. A knife throwing competition that might be worth checking out, and there appears to be a genuine Varisian Harrow reader, possibly a member of one of the wandering caravans that roamed this land long before the Cheliaxian colonists arrive.

A persistent rumor on the way north was that a notable scholar of Thassilon makes his home here.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

While she may be a "Pathfinder", she does not have anything to identify that she is with that group. She gotta get her wayfinder first!

Mary looks around a bit, trying to hear any other rumors about this scholar of Thassilon, but continues to make her way to the knife throwing competition. When she gets there she speaks loud enough to be heard to the man running the game.

"Excuse me, I'll try my hand at your knife contest. May I participate?" But her mind might not be on the contest completely. A scholar of Thassilon! If he has any worth while info, I might be able to use that for my confirmation!

Mary looks rather excited.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent grunts as he scrambles to keep hold of the pig, squirming still even beneath his weight. "Got some fight in ya, huh? Not enough to deal with the likes'a me!" Kent forces his elbow down on the pig's head, forcing it into the dirt. The sow squeals and whines, causing quite a bit of ruckus as Kent tries to force it into submission. "Just give up, would'ya? Someone's gonna eat you anyway, might as well be me!"

Grapple Checks:
Grapple; Pin: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Grapple; Pin: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Grapple; Pin: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Grapple; Pin: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Grapple rules state that if a creature fails to escape a grapple, I get a +5 on subsequent Grapple checks against that creature during the grapple. I didn't realize that until I looked them up for another reason, so I figured I'd mention it.


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua kept his usual scowl on his face as he strode through the crowd. The people of Sandpoint had never welcomed him with open arms, but they had left him well enough alone, and he was content to leave them be. As he made his way, an arm wrestling stall caught his eye.
"What's the price for a match?" Tsakua asked the thin-haired stall owner, coming over to view the result of the current contest.


dm:

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Thanks for the reminder. It'll be good to remember that in the future. The pig escapes because it's gets to use it's escape artist check against your cmd rather than cmb. Nice showing though!

The wrestling continues on for another half minute or so, and by the end blacksmith and pig are thoroughly covered in muck. After an initial success, the pig managed to slip away while Kent was attempting to pin it. After that the wrestling continued, with Kent's strong arms always able to grab hold, but the slippery pig wriggling free immediately after. When Farmer Grump calls it time, Kent has once again managed to grab hold of the pig and is reading to trying pinning in down again. Whell ser. Grump says looking down at the pair. 'at was right impressive. Most spend the whole time just chasing 'er, but 'at the closest anyone got. Let ya have another go if ya want? a smile crinkles his face. Seeing 'ow ya already in there. If not, might want to 'row yerself in da Turn.

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

The man running the knives looks the newcomer over. Certainly! A cooper a try! Three knives, three targets! The knifes appear to be ordinary knifes meant for fighting or throwing. Three wooden targets are lined up behind the counter at 10', 30', and 50'. A goblin, a harpy, and a fanged horse dancing on it's hindlegs. A board to the side indicates that aside from the ones further out being worth better prizes, there are also prizes for combinations, three of a kind, or one of each. Ranged attack rolls with a dagger, use any applicable feats you have. Just tell me which target you're aiming for with each attack.

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

After pinning his opponent's arm to the counter, the stall owner looks up Tsakua. Price? We're just playing for fun. Eh, Banny? As the loser stalks off clenching his fists, and the winner glares after him, it certainly doesn't seem friendly.

Turning back to his guest, the man holds out his hand. Ven Vinder. I'm just minding the store while my wife looks around. Looking Tsakua up and down carefully, Tell you what. Beat me at arm-wrestling and I'll give you one of Solsta's pies. No cost, just friendly contest. To be straight with you though, I'd give plenty to figure out a way to be ride of that jackass. Sneaks around with my daughter at night, then has the gall to come to me and try to make it all nice and proper. Not likely!


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

When the old farmer calls time, Kent is crouched again atop the pig, trying to keep himself from sliding off her slippery hide. "This pig..." he huffs, catching his breath. "-is gonna be my dinner." He grins as the pig oinks, starting to slide away from him again. Noticing his hold loosened for a moment, he clambers to keep the pig beneath him, kicking up a wave of muck as he dives atop it again. "I'll get ya the three silver once I haul this porker out over my shoulder!"

"You're a slipp'ry li'l bugger, I'll give ya that." He looks again to Torvald, his new found acquaintance. "Makes ya feel a little more grateful for yer dinner when ya gotta wrestle it out of a mud pit, dud'n'it?"

Grapple: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

Mary grins as she walks up to the game.
"Lets see if I can hit all three~ Um, got change for a Gold Peice?"

After getting her change and three knives, she does her best to hit the targets.
Using point blank shot for the first two.
First Target: Goblin
Knife Throw: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 3 + 1 = 15 +1 for Ranged
Second Target: Harpy
Knife Throw: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 1 = 19 +1 for Ranged
Third Target: Horse Thing
Knife Throw: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23 +1 Ranged
Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16 +1 Ranged
Just wanted to see if I do more to it. :P
Also forgot to use the ranged stats for it. Add plus 1 to all those. >.<


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

Torvald sniffed idly as he watched Kent grapple with the pig. "Sure an' t'ere's pork in t'e north. But it's a rare t'ing."

A memory flickered in his mind of a fractured knife, of hot pig's blood mingling with that of a deep-wounded man, of screams of shock and pain. What was meant to be a festival became a grim spectacle, and spectacle became lesson.

"But in t'e north, ye're no'likely t' ever have a meal ye didn'rip from t'e ground. Aye, an' ye greet each day grateful fer anot'er, fer ye know t'e witches did no'take ye in t'e night, nor t'e spirits turn ye inta a toad, nor winter set yer belly t' groanin' an' bloatin' an' killin' ye." He stroked his beard with a thick hand, eyes heavy-lidded.

"Jes' ye focus on yer quarry an' keep yer eyes seein' by forgelight, lad," he grumbled finally.


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua gave a grim smirk to Vinder as he sat down. "A friendly match, y'say. It'd be one of the few friendly things I've seen for a while." Placing his elbow on the stall counter, he leaned a calloused hand forward in challenge.

"And while I'm enjoying my pie," Tsakua remarks, enjoying the thrill of the contest, "You can tell me why you can't handle a boy man enough to face you."


dm:

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Grump laughs heartily. Sure! Usually I grease 'er again first, but since 'ere's as much on yew as 'er, seems enough. He waves his hand for the wrestling to continue.

The peg does it's best to burrow through Kent into the mud beyond. Alas, there is a lot of him, and it's difficult to dig through. Play on!

As the contest resumes, the older man turns to the newcomer. So's, sounds like yer not from around 'ese parts. What brings a Ulfen to da Sand? And how ye know our mucky fella?
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first knife thunks solidly into the goblin cut-out's comically sized head, the second embeds deeply in the harpy's gut, the third doesn't strike as hard, almost looking like it might fall out from lack of depth, but remains stuck in the winged horse's throat.

The fellow manning the area claps his hands and bows. Ladies and gentlemen! Our gallant stranger has slain the goblin, the harpy, and the devil itself! Handing over three wooden tokens Take the goblin's head to Risa's, the wings to the Glassworks, and horseshoe to the stables for your prizes. Sheriff Hemlock will find you with the special prize. Helpfully pointing out each location's place at the fair.

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

Ven shakes his arm out and clasps hands with the half-orc. Though age has put on a fair layer of blubber, old and substantial muscle tightens beneath it. Friendly is as it does, 'Friend'. And I haven't seen you making much of an effort either. But that's what this is about. Let's see which of us really wants that pie. I'm feeling a little hungry myself. Simple strength check. Beat him twice to win, or lose twice for it to go the other way. You can either do several rolls at once, or post out each one.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

Mary is somewhat surprised at how well she did.
"Oh! Thank you;" As she receives the tokens from person manning this game. "So to Risa's, The Glassworks, and the stables. And the Sheriff with come find with the last prize." She somewhat mumbles a bit towards the end, but then continues, "I guess this village is rather quiet, that is really nice." Mary then makes her way towards Risa's. And thinks, What ever kind of place that is...?

When she gets to Risa's, she introduces herself.
"Hi, my name is Mary, and I got this, Goblin token from that knife contest." As she finishes speaking, she holds up the goblin token.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent keeps bringing his arms farther and farther up the pig's ample belly, trying to reach his hands about the thing's neck and drag it from the pen. "You're mine, ya little bugger! Just give it up!" Finally moving atop the pig again, he wraps his arms around his neck and clinches with his leg, then lurches violently to the side, trying to use his mass to get both himself and tonight's dinner towards the gate. "Ya smell that? They got the coals warmin' already!" He lurches again, trying to roll into a position where he can stand and haul the gods damned sow from the pen.

Grapple Rolls:

Grapple; Pin: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
Grapple; Pin/Drag: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21
Grapple; Pin/Drag: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
Grapple; Pin/Drag: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25

There we go! Beat that, you damn peg.


The stall is decorated to look somewhat like a gypsy wagon, complete with drapes of fabric and startling color choices. A young woman just starting to blossom into herself sits on a stool leaning animatedly towards a boy about her age, who hurriedly steals a kiss before stepping back to look very nonchalant. As you introduce yourself, the girl blushes and calls to the rear curtain of the stall. Mom! Someone's here with a goblin's head from Hemlock! before turning back. Hi! I'm Joy! So you came for the festival?! You've missed most of it, but still had a good time I guess. Where are you from?! She almost vibrates with energy.

Before you have a chance to really answer, a woman with the same olive skin and curling black hair bustles out from the curtain holding a pumpkin a bit larger than a head on a wooden platter. Here you are! Risa's Goblin Head. Setting it down on the counter, she pulls off the top. Steam wafts from the inside along with appealing scents. The pumpkin has apparently been cooked with a stuffing of apples, raisins, oats, nuts, and various herbs or spices. I'm Lanalee. She says while leaning across to kiss your cheeks.

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

Bacon's squeals take on a frantic pitch as she is... maneuvered. The strategy works however, and wrestler and prize arrive at the gate. Grump stares for a moment before starting to laugh, and laugh, and finally collapse on the ground howling. Wiping his eyes. Ser, 'at peg is yers. Good and truly yers. Now, what would ye liek to do wit 'er? I ken keep 'er 'ere, or take 'er to Chod fer butcherin if'n ye liek?


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Kent stands triumphant, holding the squealing pig in his arms as he walks out the gate. At Grump's response, he looks around for a moment, unsure of himself. "I... you said there's a turn I could wash m'self in? I think I'd like that, more'n anything." Kent laughs again, this time a deep belly laugh as the pig continues to squirm. "I'd love ta take 'er to the butcher m'self, but I reckon I'll go enjoy myself. Gotta spend sometime till them chops 'er ready, aye Torvald?" He goes to clap the Ulfen on the back, then remembers both the pig and his own filthiness. "Take 'er to Chod's, if'n that won't be a problem."

"Where's the nearest stand I could fetch a pint?" Kent asks, realizing he'd worked up a thirst. "Wrestlin' pigs is thirsty work."


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

Torvald eyed up the... pig farmer, apparently. "Rm. I am... a smit'. Travelin'. Learnin'. A little teachin'. A little brewin'. Th' name's Torvald." He looked over at Kent, closely engaged with either his dinner or his better, depending on how the next few moments played out. "Th' s... ah, Kent," he said with a moment's deliberation, stressing the name slightly in recall, "an' I broke bread t'is night past. Seems we have a bit in common. An' a bit tha' we do no'," he added, watching the other smith again.

He turned back to the pig farmer. "Ye raise fine pigs, sir. Great spirit."


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

"Looks like you've had pies enough for the both of us," Tsakua comments dryly, observing Ven's physique. "Hope they haven't made you too soft, I was hoping for a challenge." As confident as he sounded, there was no mistaking the steel in the man's grip. Tsakua knew there would be no quarter given in this contest of strength, but that didn't matter.
Tsakua locks eyes with Ven as grips are met and the challenge begins, focusing his strength into forcing the other man's hand onto the stall's counter.

Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

Hoping that nat 20 can make up for that 7

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

Mary eyes go wide,she hasn't seen pumpkin prepared and stuffed like that back in Absalom!
"Oh wow. That looks really good! If you don't mind, I'll definitely have a serving of that. Oh, my name is Mary, I came from Absalom, by way of Magnimar. She gets herself a serving and takes a bite. She is not too surprised about the taste, it is really good! "Oh. Mmm, yum. This stuff is really good. Never seen pumpkin done like this back in Absalom." Mary takes a few more bites to finish her serving of the Goblin Head Pumpkin. But once she is done, and has wipe off her mouth with a handkerchief, she speaks up. "Thank you so much! Thank you Lanalee, and thank you to your daughter, Joy, for greeting me. But I guess It is time for me to see what I got for these;" as she holds up the wings token. "Will get me at the Glassworks. By the way nice meeting you both." And with that, she begins to make her way towards the Glassworks.

When she gets to the Glassworks, she introduces herself again to the people that are there.
"Hello, name's Mary, and I got the Wings Token from the knife throwing contest. I was told I can trade it here for a prize?"


dm:

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Grump gestures toward a wagon with slats added to form a mobile pen. In 'ere. Ye can git 'er from Chod tomarra. Gesturing down the hill to the river. 'At's da Turandarok, most call it Turn. Jist take yerself down an wash a bit. As fer drink, he turns an points right to the center of the stalls and bustle. 'Ere. Two tall an fluttery flags. Blue an White. 'At's a Two Knights. Best 'ere is.

As Kent stows his prize, 'Ank you kindly fer sayin' so. Long as 'ere's been pegs, 'ere's been Grumps to raise 'em, an we're right good at it. I usually keep a few runts for the festival. Looking over Torvald carefully. Still a few yearlin' left if'n yer interested.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hands tighten and with a mutual nod, the two mens' muscles strain. The store-keeper starts off strong, almost pushing the younger man's hand to the wood. There's more to such a contest than brute strength though, and when he senses an opening, Tsakua surges back to pin his opponent in a single move.

Shaking out his arm once again, perhaps a bit more gingerly this time, Ven reaches back for a pastry the size of two cupped hands. Setting it on the counter, Seems you left your manners with the caravan. If you're going to stick around here, might want to work on that. You've got good arms though. Looking Tsakua in the eyes, As for Banny, I don't like thugs and criminals, and I don't want my daughter involved with such.

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

Lanalee points further into the crowd. You're looking for the one with the funny symbols on the top. That's the Glassworks.

The glassworks has a large set-up with two guards standing nearby. Foreign characters are emblazoned on the silk banner overhanging it. Two Tian men stand in front of a display case showing a array of blown and spun glass vases, bowls, and other items. Some are clear or jewel toned, but most have lines and swirls of color. A few of the pieces remind you of trees or sprays of water.

One of the men takes your token and hands you a carefully wrapped bird done in smoky glass. Thank you for visiting us.


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

The smith shook his head. "P'rhaps anot'er time. I've a feelin' yer winner'll be sharin' meat an' meat fer days, aye. Forgelight guide yer way, friend," he grumbled, stumping away to join Kent.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

Mary nods to the man as she receives the glass bird.
"Oh wow, thank you." She un wraps the bird to look at it. "Wow, beautiful. Again, thank you. I'll be on my way then, nice to meet you." She bows her head to them then makes her way to the stables.

On the way, Mary begins to wonder if the stables are the Goblin Squash Stables. If it is the same place as those stables? Maybe I can figure out what my uncle had for me, and to know how he is doing now

When she gets to the stables, she introduces herself to who ever is there. "Hello? My name is Mary, Mary Morrickson. I got this Horseshoe token from the knife contest." She then holds up the Horseshoe Token.

I have the trait Friends and Enemies. Is it the same stables mentioned in that trait? I'll post the trait here under a spoiler, but if it is, that family member for me is Robert Schetnek. And by the trait, he would be dead by now. So it should be interesting if it is.

Friends and Enemies:

Friends and Enemies: One of your family members,
perhaps a parent, cousin, aunt, or uncle, helped Daviren
Hosk put down a group of goblins near Sandpoint.
Since then, your family member passed away, but not
before telling you about that day and the offer Daviren
made her should she ever be in need. Once you make
it to Sandpoint and meet up with Daviren Hosk at the
Goblin Squash Stables, he gives you one of his best
steeds and all the necessary accoutrements as gratitude
for your family member’s help: a heavy combat trained
horse, a military saddle, saddlebags, bit and bridle, a
month’s worth of feed, and lifetime stabling at the
Goblin Squash Stables.


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Massaging his shoulder, Tsakua meets Vin's stare and grumbles "Ain't a caravan I'm from. As it stands, manners ain't helped much in life, but I've seen a man's strength mean the difference between life and death." Enjoying the scent of the pie, Tsakua gives a rare, friendly grin. "And yer a man's man, Ven Vinder, with a strength few could beat." Leaning back in his seat, Tsakua enjoys the bustle around him, thinking of those that had stopped by his campsite for shelter on a night past.

Pausing for a moment, Tsakua ponders and looks back at Ven "A man with a wife and daughter t'think of shouldn't muck with thugs, fer all his strength," the half-orc thinks aloud. "But manners have their place, and if yer willin', cut the pie and we'll eat and discuss them's without manners and how we can teach'em," he grins again, "the error o' their ways."


^_-A helpful stranger points down the hill, and you come to a barn whose sign shows a goblin being trampled by a horse. Several bits of leather seem to have been nailed above the lintel. After calling out, a lean man steps out of the barn. Mary Morrickson?

Looking you over carefully, he holds out a hand. Pleased to meet you. I knew your uncle Robert. He helped me with a difficult goblin problem a number of years ago. I was sorry to hear that he passed. Mouth tightening, he lets go of your hand. I'm more sorry not to be able to fulfill his request. I was supposed to have Beznă here for you. He's a beautiful stallion from Robert's own Nox. Unfortunately, the merchant who was contracted to bring him hasn't arrived yet. I have the rest of his gear in the barn though, and will let you use one of my own in the mean time. Again I apologize for the embarrassment.

Finally looking at the horseshoe token, he gives a crooked smile. Ah. You must have come from Hemlock's knife contest. The prize was supposed to be a week's stay and a thorough grooming of your horse. Under the circumstances, I'll see what we can do.

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

Holding it sideways to keep the filling from spilling out. Ven begins to work on his own piece of the blackberry pastry. I appreciate it. Gesturing with the pie. You sir, are damned strong. No one has beaten me like that since I left the sea.

The smile that Ven returns is tired and bitter. It's not the ones without manners that keep me up at night. It's the ones with too many. Banny may be a sneak and ignore me telling him to stay away, but you're right. He's willing to face me and be honest about what his intentions are, and that might be enough if Katrine really does love him, but I will not have my daughter beholden to the Scarnetti's. If he really cares so much for her, he can leave that band of murdering 'gentlemen'. Then we'll talk.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

Mary lowers her head somewhat when she hears of her uncle's passing. but after a few seconds she looks at Davirn and then nods.
"Ah, thank you. It is nice to know what the gift my uncle giving me truly was. I don't mind that, er;" She tries to say the horse's name correctly. "Bezna? Right? Er, I don't mind the horse is not here yet. I don't quite need a horse right now, not really planning on going anywhere for the time being. Though I have to say, about the prize grooming, its like putting the cart before the horse!" Mary giggles somewhat at her own little joke.

"Anyway, I did come to Sandpoint for another thing, I was told that there is a local ruin nearby that is Thassilonian? And I heard that there is also a scholar who may know of such topics, do you happen to know who he, or she is?"


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

"Titus Scarnetti controls the lumber in this town, right?" Tsakua asks between mouthfuls of pie. "After that, I can't say I know much about the family." The delicious pie in his belly makes Tsakua realize how long it's been since he's had a decent meal, and he relishes every bite, taking care not to let one berry spill.

Gods, this is good, Tsakua thinks, chewing on his last piece of crust. Ven were to give this Banny some pie, he might quit the Scarnetti's on his own just for another bite.


Daviren nods slowly. Yes... I believe so anyway. Quint studies the ruins in this area. Pointing to the upper part of town where a ruined tower about 20 feet high looms from the cliff-face. I've heard him mention Thassilon and Azlant in connection with the Light and Thistletop. You'd really need to ask him about it. Usually you can find him at the Curious Goblin, but right now he should be at the celebration with everyone else. I'll be heading that way myself once it gets a little closer to sunset.

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

Ven nods his head. And the logging company. And the flour mill. If you want wood or flour you have to go through him. Every time someone else decides to build their own it 'mysteriously' burns down just after they've got it finished. He's tight with the Jubrayl Vhiski, leader of the Sczarni thugs here. They do all the dirty work so none of it sticks to him.

Turning aside to spit on the ground. What do you expect, Sandpoint was started by four families for profit. Anything gets in the way of that. He draws a finger across his throat.

So, what's a father to do? I have no proof of anything, and Danny runs Scarnetti's most profitable business.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

"Alright then, I guess I will see you later Mr Hosk. I better get around to enjoying the festival before it gets too late." Mary begins to leave, but stops for a few seconds and turns back to Daviren. "And thanks again. I am glad I got to meet you." She heads out into the festival proper to mingle, and get some tasty snacks.
That Goblin head pumpkin was good, I wonder if there are some snacks that are just as good... Yum.


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua stands and stretches his arms over his head, cracking his knuckles. "Yer a good man, Ven Vinder, and a man with a family shouldn't take needless risks. I've known thugs and lords, and truth be told, it's hard to tell the difference sometimes." The memory of two smiths talking around a campsite still fresh in his mind, Tsakua smiles grimly and reaching a hand out to shake adds "But for another pie and a pint, we'll see what we can do about them that think themselves stronger than others."

Turning to walk away, Tsakua stops and turns back. Choosing his words carefully, he asks "Ven, you wouldn't happen to have heard of a man named Danny, would you? I hear he works for the Scarnetti's, but I've forgotten where that is or who else might be there. Any chance you could give me some direction?"


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

Covered in muck, Kent makes a motion for Torvald to follow. He moves down to the river, diving in quickly in order to get back to the festivities. Submerged longer than one might expect, Kent finally surfaces, with fish scattering in his wake as he explodes to the surface. "Damn if that water ain't cold!" he shouts, beginning to shake himself dry. "What with the warm weather we've been havin', would've expected this to be less like'n ice bath."

Kent moves out of the river, wading his way back up to the bank, then stood on the sand. "Whaddaya' say we both get ourselves a pint, huh?" He shakes himself again, spraying water everywhere, although he's still sopping wet. "What'd Grump say? Two Knights? Sounds like a plan to me."


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

"Two Knights, aye." He studied his dripping companion as they walked, the extra clomp of the great smith's staff punctuating the drag of his lamed leg.

After a moment of consideration, he offered a thought. "Yer wet enough for it, an' more t'an enough, but jes' ye keep yerself out o' yer cups, lad. Seein' ye sodden inside t'is past night, I can no' help but wonder what yer drinkin' t' ferget. Or, maybe, t' remember."

At the pub, he muscled aside a few people to find a place the pair to sit, and waved for a drink.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

While still his cheerful self, Kent's typical smile begins to falter as the Ulfen man comments on his drinking. "To forget? What gives you that impression?" The question lacks Kent's ordinarily jovial tone, likely the first time Torvald has heard the large man speak quietly. "I'm... I've just always been a fan of my drink, is all. Back on the farm, there weren't no priests to purify the water for us, and it was just safer to drink." Kent tugs on his collar, aware he's not doing much to make his case. He starts to pick up his pace before remembering the other man's injured leg, and takes care to keep pace with Torvald as they head to Two Knights.

"I'll..." Kent begins to speak with his usual fervor, but stops short. "Just a pint for me, please. Best stuff ya got."

Bluff: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

Sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 6

After Kent ordered, Torvald gives the other man a piercing look, the deception turning over in his mind.. "Yer business is yers, an' yer secrets are yers howe'er ye want. Aye, an' I do no' know ye greatly. But when ye find a man o'erfond o' seein' t'e bottoms o' his glass time an' again, ye do no' need great wisdom or wit t' guess t'ere's a map o' scars t'at led him t'ere." His eyes lingered, then turned to the oncoming beverages.

He received his drink gladly, and offered a few coins in payment. A long draft. A satisfied sigh.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

"It ain't much of a map, friend." Kent takes his pint and sips it slowly, clearly something he is unused to. "Map usually leads ya somewhere. Mine's more of just a somewhere." Kent takes another sip, looking around at the festivities. "I'd rather not speak much about it, if'n you don't mind. It's... not a favorite subject a'mine."


dm:

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 51d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

As he shakes Tsakua's hand and gives him another pastry, Ven's face takes on a odd expression that's half gratitude and half uncertainty. Oh, I imagine he's probably looking over the wagon with wood for tonight's bonfire. Over by the center stage there. Gesturing towards the cathedral. Excellent place to... meet someone. Very dark and private right there in the corner.

Locking eyes with his new... friend? Be careful. Nothing illegal and don't break him. I still want my daughter to speak to me, and be able to sleep at night.

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

As the evening winds to a close, people begin gathering in for the closing celebration. Abstalar Zantus, priest of Desna and caretaker of the new cathedral, walks to the podium. A tremendous noise, like a nearby clap of thunder, breaks over the crowd. The talking quickly dies. Zantus raises his hands to speak, when a scream erupts from the crowd. Soon the scream is joined by shouts of alarm and cries of pain. Something is wrong.

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

The smiths are sitting in the Two Knights pavilion, their seats providing an excellent vantage point for the closing speech. As confusion and dismay sweep over the crowd, something catches Kent's eye. A small dog that had been eagerly begging for treats moments before lies unmoving in a growing puddle that appears in the failing lights as an inky blackness. A small humanoid, about the size of a child, with an oversized head like a squashed melon stands over the dog. A maniacal smile splits it's head, literally, from ear to ear. Goblins!

Kent you made the perception check. That gives you a partial action in addition to your regular turn. It might be advisable to warn Torvald, so he can be aware of the threat as well. Torvald, post your action as though he was aware of the threat. After Kent takes action, whatever it is, I'm pretty sure you'll have an idea what's happening. Goblin is perhaps 15 feet away.

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

Her peaceful evening, and sack of roasted nuts, ruined by the peal of thunder, Mary is put further off balance by the sudden cries of distress. Looking around for the disturbances' cause, she feels something run into her leg.

A goblin lies sprawled at your feet, eyes widened in surprise as it's scrapyard dagger flies off to vanish beneath the crowd's feet. Yep. You nat 1'd the perception check, and it nat 1'd the attack role.

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

Moving purposefully through the crowd. Tsakua finds the wagon Ven mentioned. Pilled high with firewood, a tarp covers the load. Sure enough, in the pocket created by the wagon and stage, two passionately embraced figures lean against the vehicle. You recognize the young man Ven called Banny.

The two ignore the noise in favor of each other, but immediately after you see the tarp shift. A small figure crouches above the lovers, wicked knife ready to pierce and tear. You're 50ft away and charging is possible. You'd be able to reach the goblins on top of the wagon from the ground. You made the perception check, but the goblins were waiting, so you go at the same time. You don't get a extra attack, but they don't get a free stab at Romeo and Juliet.


Male 8th Generation Gangrel

"What the--" Kent swivels around, his brow furrowed as he shakes his head, his ears still popping. "Goblins? Green little bastards!" As he slides from his seat, he notices the dog lying in a pool of what he assumes to be blood. His furrowed brow arching further, Kent's mouth contorts into a snarl. He cracks his knuckles, then looks over to Torvald. "We got some heads to crack, Torvald." The look on his face is nothing like the cheery man from earlier today, or even the more repressed Kent from the bar stand. This is another beast entirely.

"Think you can come to my home and start sh*t, huh? Did'ya?" Kent growls, as he pushes his way out of the crowd. "Didn't work the last time, and it sure as hell ain't gonna work now!"

Kent doesn't actually move from his square yet, instead using his move action to pick up Power Attack with Martial Flexibility.

Grand Lodge

NG Female Human Bolt Ace Gunslinger 1 / HP(10/10) / AC17 T13 F-f14 / Saves F+2 R+5 W+2
Skills:
Athletics +5, Handle Animal +4, Heal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (history) +3, Knowledge (local) +6, Linguistics +3, Perception +6, Ride +5, Survival +6

What the.....
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
Knowledge: Local: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Mary looks around looking to see where the sound of thunder came from. But then noticing the goblin that ran into her sprawled on the ground next to her. She stares at the goblin as it stares at surprise at her for a few moments before pulling her longsword to try to strike the Goblin before it can get away.
Bad day for you evil goblin.
Longsword Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Longsword Damage, Two-handed: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
After swinging, she shouts!
"Goblins, There are Goblins about!

I don't think I am swinging against prone ac, am I?


Male Half-Orc Brawler 1 (Steel-Breaker) / HP(15/15) / AC 14 T12 FF10 / Saves F+4 R+5 W+1

Tsakua hadn't minded the milling crowd. He had his purpose for being in that square, and it had nothing to do with the cathedral, but when he saw the goblin, everything in him went still.

Deep down, he knew that if he took his time, the goblin might only kill Banny and leave the girl alone long enough for Tsakua to get there. He would have fulfilled promise to Ven, but he'd ever be able to look the old sailor in the eye again if he did nothing.

So he ran.

Gods, don't let me be too late, Tsakua prayed, charging through the crowd. Sprinting to the side of the wagon, he yells "Get that girl home, Banny!" Not waiting for a response, Tsakua reaches a huge, calloused hand up to knock the demonic figure away from the couple.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Unarmed Strike: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

hopefully I'm reading the rules for charge right, please let me know if I make the wrong roll at the wrong time, or something like that. i interpreted the extra attack Tsakua doesn't get as something other than the melee attack after a charge, correct?


Male Human (Ulfen) Oracle 1

With a roar, Torvald clambered to his feet. He was no stranger to an unforgiving land where danger could come at any time, and if that danger came in the form of small green creatures... well, a man did not survive by being choosy about which threats he was prepared to fight. But in a peaceful place like this, was it likely that the people would know how to defend themselves? Someone would have to bring order.

The darkness of day's end was gathering, but the forge would show the way. "Kent!" He reached out to touch the other man's shoulder. "We're t' be t'e fire in darkness. Let's burn t'e little bastards.

There was a sensation of searing heat, and then the brawler's clothes began to glow with light.

Casting light on Kent's clothing.

Drawing his heavy mace and raising it above his head, he shouted, "T' us, ye folk o' Sandpoint! T' safety! T' th' fire in darkness!"

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