1st of Desnus, 4707 AR
So far, the Swallowtail Festival in the small town of Sandpoint has been a dazzling experience. Beginning midmorning with speeches from the town's mayor, Kendra Deverin, the sheriff, Belor Hemlock, and local luminaries Cyrdak Drokkus and Father Zantus (the owner of the local theater and the town's priest of Desna, respectively), the festival has been filled with singing, entertainment, dancing, games and more, overwhelming you with sounds, colors, and the sense of sustained enjoyment from a whole town coming together. The butterfly release at noon, in which swallowtail butterflies sacred to Desna were released into the air in a swirling, fluttering mass of color, was matched by the bewildering array of free dishes brought forth by the town's five taverns for lunch. The spicy smells of the Rusty Dragon's curried salmon drew the lion's share of the crowd, but the Hagfish's clam chowder, the White Deer's tuna and pasta and even the thick beef stew from the Fatman's Feedbag all earned their portion of acclaim as well.
Now, however, the day is drawing to its close, when Father Zantus is scheduled to formally dedicate the town's new cathedral, a beautiful stone and glass structure containing shrines to the six most popular deities in the region: Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae and Shelyn. Buily over the ruins of the town's previous temple, destroyed in a fire five years before, the cathedral is a shining testament to the will of Sandpoint's people to overcome adversity, and the town has waited five years for this moment.
Each of you makes your way through the crowd that now gathers before the cathedral, waiting for Father Zantus to begin the dedication ceremony.
Moving through the crowd is a rail of an elf at least a full head taller than all but the tallest man present. He says little as he moves through the crowd, but he smiles and acknowledges folks' attention. He is definitely not one of those aloof forest dwellers that comes to town from time to time.
If you're from Sandpoint, you know you've never seen him before this morning. If you're not from Sandpoint, you assume he must be a local because he seems to know everyone he meets.
Dancing and food and games and music! What more could a Varisian hope for? As if her first sight of the ocean had not been enough... it is almost as though the entire town had planned a grand party just for her. Of course Marcelina realizes that could never be the case, but she is determined to enjoy herself just as much as if it were. And so she has spent the day doing just that, mingling with the crowd, tasting the different foods, dancing with whoever asks, and generally letting any care or worries she might have (which are few enough) fall by the wayside.
As the day begins to draw to a close, she finds herself drawn along with the rest of the crowd to hear what the good father has to say. She even tries to get up as close as she can, so that she can more easily hear.
Locals might recognize the gray-haired Tian man as the loner who occasionally comes to town to trade for necessities. Most would be hard pressed to remember his name. His clothes are well-worn but also well-kept, and something seems different about him this time. He walks around with more confidence and a sense of purpose, enjoying the festival and everything the town has to offer. He seems, somehow, younger now than his last visit to town.
With a blissful smile the brown-haired man-boy strides through the crowd, finally in his element. Stomach full after having sampled most of the dishes, Tristan looks around big-eyed at everything. Sandpoint is not a big city by his standards but the festival surpasses most things he has experienced so far.
Trailed by a small bunch of kids pestering him to do magic tricks for them, he approaches the cathedral, obligingly lifting one of the kids onto his shoulders and gazing expectantly ahead.
This young human stands out because of his patchwork, weather-beaten garb haphazardly assembled from dozens of cultures from numerous ports of call. While he wouldn't rate a second glance in a seedier town such as Riddleport, Sandpoint denizens might think to check their purses after he walks by. At least, until they see his face, full of cheer as the festival of Desna lifts his spirits. Before long, he's eating and drinking with the other revelers like a native of Sandpoint.
The five of you, among dozens of others, have crammed together in the large square in front of the new cathedral. A speaking stand and podium face the square; a young man in soft gray robes covered with patches that resemble butterflies' wings now steps forward, smiling broadly down at the crowd. Abstalar Zantus has been at the center of the festival all day, but this last event is the most important for nearly all of Sandpoint. Father Zantus hurls a small object, like an oversized pebble, at the platform, and a sharp crack! cuts through the crowd's chatter, bringing silence almost at once. Under a nearby wagon, a sleeping dog jerks awake and begins barking, but everyone else is quiet.
With a deep breath, Zantus opens his mouth to speak, but instead a sharp scream slices the air, the sound of a woman's pure terror. Other screams follow it, and Zantus looks around in shock and confusion as a high-pitched maniacal tittering, like nothing a human could make this side of sanity, is suddenly heard from several directions around the square. A dark blue-grey shape blurs past the dog under the wagon, and its barks are suddenly cut off with a pained squeak and a wet gurgle. Its throat has been slit, and as the blood pools around its head, a strange, high-pitched song in a scratchy language begins to fill the air.
Perception:
Marcelina starts at the scream and does the same thing everyone else is doing, namely looking everywhere for what could have caused it. However, being so far in the front puts her at a severe disadvantage when it comes to seeing anything but other people.
The old man senses fear from his familiar hidden in his robe pockets. He scans the crowd and sees the source of trouble, pointing to the wagon and then the barrels.
There! Goblins! Summon the guards!
initiative
Perception:
Lamsfel, you see that?
Gestures toward the creatures with a bowl of clam chowder, slopping some over the brim.
Initiative:
Perception
Scanning the crowds, the elf points, "Uh-huh, goblins. I see three so far. One there, two over there." He sighs, "They are like rats on a ship - if there's one, there's a dozen. Why do they have to spoil Desna's festival, of all days?"
Initiative
The goblins scatter through the crowd, intent on causing bloody mayhem wherever they go. The screams of the townsfolk make an odd counterpoint to the strange song that still continues from every direction.
One of the goblins starts to scramble up onto the wagon while another rushes toward the speaking platform , waving its vicious blade at a stunned and uncertain Father Zantus. The third knocks over one of the barrels it was hiding behind and begins rocking it back and forth, as though preparing to roll it somewhere.
"Come on! We can't let them do this!"
I believe Lamsfel can move from the (Lamsfel) space to his new position with 60' of double movement. As he moves, he draws both daggers.
Tristan gingerly lifts the little girl off his shoulders and draws his sword. "Please move away, people. Those creatures are dangerous."
"Come on! We can't let them do this!"
I believe Lamsfel can move from the (Lamsfel) space to his new position with 60' of double movement. As he moves, he draws both daggers.
Instead, steps around Lamsfel, conjures a blob of acid and sends it toward the first goblin.
Ranged touch attack:
"Ugly little critters, aren't they? I've spotted three; do you see any more?"
I'll cast Daze on Goblin 3 (DC 14 WS)
The glob of acid conjured by Tybus goes over the goblin's head, and it shrieks and jumps up and down on the wagon, laughing at him. As Lamsfel and Tristan move closer, Gan's magic settles over the goblin on the platform causing it to stare, drooling, for several long seconds.
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The goblin behind the barrel laughs maniacally, then starts rolling it through the crowd, sending people flying out of its way as it hurtles across the cobblestones. Stopping just short of Tybus, it blinks up at the sailor, then starts laughing maniacally again.
On top of the wagon, seeing Lamsfel's approach, the goblin looks around, grabbing a hammer from the wagonbed and hurling it at the elf's head.
Lamsfel steps up to the wagon and attacks WagonGoblin.
Attacking WagonGoblin
Dagger damage
Attacking BarrelGoblin
Dagger damage
Lamsfel lashes out with his daggers, once at the goblin rushing past with its barrel (although he must dodge some members of the crowd who are leaping aside as he does) and once at his tormentor on the wagon. Both strikes connect, leaving vicious wounds.
Young lady, please help Father Zanthus. My spell won't hold that creature long.
He fixes G2 with a chilling stare (Evil Eye Hex--WS DC 14. Failure equals 7 rounds, success equals one round -2 to AC).
Gestures to the brawny sailor.
Little bugger shouldn't be too hard to hit now. He hehehehehehehehee (Gan move action cackles, increasing the duration of Evil Eye by one)
Lamsfel lashes out with his daggers, once at the goblin rushing past with its barrel (although he must dodge some members of the crowd who are leaping aside as he does) and once at his tormentor on the wagon. Both strikes connect, leaving vicious wounds.
"Laugh this off!" I try to roll the barrel onto the goblin to trip him up or squish him, then draw my cutlass.
here's the roll:
Edit: Then use a swift action for Arcane Strike, after my weapon's drawn.
"Laugh this off!" I try to roll the barrel onto the goblin to trip him up or squish him, then draw my cutlass.
here's the roll: 1d20
[ooc]Back tonight to adjudicate results.
Seeing utter chaos breaking out around her, Marcelina's first thought is to help people get out of the area safely. But then she finally spots the goblins, particularly the one heading for the good father. Whether she hears Gan's call over the general din is unknown, but she does make for the goblin as best she can through the press. Water from who knows where seems to slide around her hand like a glove as she reaches out towards the evil creature, intent on freezing it.
Tristan tries to cut down the nearest goblin with his ridiculously oversized sword.
The goblin quails beneath Gan's gaze , and then is knocked to the ground beneath its own barrel.
1d20
1d6
Tristan tries to cut down the nearest goblin with his ridiculously oversized sword.
Tristan slashes again, mindful of the bystanders. "Seriously, people, get out of my way. I need space to swing this."
Hammered by the witch's curse and exposed by having been knocked flat, the goblin does not even have a chance to squeak before Tristan's blade splits it messily in two.
1d20
Marcelina tries to climb onto the platform so that she can help Father Zantus, but her icy grip sadly interferes; her hand slips off, and she nearly catches her chin on the platform when it does. Righting herself, she tries again , but by the time she scrambles up the goblin is already slashing at the priest with its blade. Zantus throws himself aside at the last moment, and the blade only manages to slice open the hem of his robe.
Oblivious to the grisly fate met by its companion at Tristan's hands, the goblin on the wagon shrieks what seems like a victory cry as it too attacks, trying to slice off one of Lamsfel's ears, which is can only reach because of its location.
(Glances at the bloody sword wielded by Tristan, then glances at his smaller cutlass.) "I've seen rudders smaller than that blade! Anyway, two more of them, near the stage. Let's have at 'em!"
Next opportunity, I'll move in that direction.
(Glances at the bloody sword wielded by Tristan, then glances at his smaller cutlass.) "I've seen rudders smaller than that blade! Anyway, two more of them, near the stage. Let's have at 'em!"
Next opportunity, I'll move in that direction.
Grim-faced, Tristan makes way to the goblin on the wagon. "Nasty little critters", he curses under his breath, as he brings his sword down once more.
Tristan's blade slams into the wagon, sending splinters flying, but the goblin is unscathed.
Finally atop the stage, Marcelina makes for the goblin, intent on catching it this time.
Finally atop the stage, Marcelina makes for the goblin, intent on catching it this time.
1d20
1d6