Valkur's Rise of the Runelords

Game Master Valkur

Current Day:
Day 40, 30th of Lamashan, Morning

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And here we go...

Day 1: 22nd Rova, The Autumnal Eqquinox
You find yourself in the backwater of town of Sandpoint located on the Varisian coast. Sandpoint is the kind of place most people have never heard about. Of course that all changed about five years ago during an event to which the locals refer to as the ‘unpleasantness’. During the ‘unpleasantness’, Sandpoint’s town Church had burnt to the ground and a mad man stalked the streets at night. Of course that was over now and the town settled back into normalcy. The only excitement in Sandpooint these days are the occasional goblin raids. During this time the community rallied to build a new Church to serve the the spiritual needs of the town folk. And today celebrates the consecration of the church, as part of the yearly Swallowtail Festival.

Bel'Tanis: You find yourself slowly integrating into life in Sandpoint. Father Zantus has hired you on at the Church as a guard and general laborer. While not a glamorous life it does provide comfort and stability.

Khrondak: After arriving in Sandpoint the previous day. You quickly locate the Goblin Smash stables to meet Daviren Hosk. After striking up a quick friendship and swapping tales of your uncle Tarel the Goblin Slayer. Daviren insists you stay the night and accompany his family to the Swallowtale festival the next day to see the new town

Thaddeus: You have been living in Sandpoint the last few months working as a volunteer town guard for Sheriff Hemlock. You find yourself at the Swallowtail festival working the church square as a watchman looking for any trouble makers in the crowd.

Notick: After the death of your mother a few years ago, you came under the care of your Uncle Vhiski who lived in Sandpoint. Unfortunately for you, your Uncle quickly integrated you into his seedy criminal enterprise. His orders for you today was to attend the Swallowtail festival and help relive festival attendees of their coin.

Scoria: Finally the festival has arrived and the Church is officially complete. Of course there is still some finishing work to do, but that can wait for tomorrow. For today is a day of celebration.

Midori: Arriving the day before the Swallowtail festival. The caravan master informs you the best inn in town is the Rusty Dragon. After arriving at the inn you are shocked that your own cousin Ameiko Kaijitsu is the owner. After spending the rest of the day catching up, she invites you to the Swallowtail festival the next morning as her guest.

The Swallowtail Festival gets underway...

To begin the festival several prominent townsfolk give speeches to commemorate the day.

Mayor Deverin, welcomes everybody, townspeople and visitors. Of course the mayor for the most part drones on about doing your part and be apart of the community, for which he is grateful because Sandpoint has such a great community. The high point of his speech is jesting with the local tanner Lars Rovanky, that even he took time off to attend. Much to everyone's amusement in the crowd, but Lars.

Next up was Sheriff Belor Hemlock, who gives an even more boring speech than the Mayor with his exceptional dour mood. The good Sheriff reminds everybody to stay safe and to avoid unseemly behaviour.

Strangely the third speaker scheduled to give a speech was to be the local nobleman Lenjiku Kaijitsu. However, Mayor Deverin informs the gathered crowd that Sir Kaijitsu had taken ill and would not be able to join the festival. However speaking in his place was the well liked town resident showman Cyrdak Drokkus. Cyrdak gives a rousing speech which is similar to the mayors but with a showman’s flair and gets the crowd into cheerful mood. Of course Cyrdak can’t help to promote himself a bit and invites everyone to the Sandpoint Theater to see his new production “The Harpy’s Curse” which the lead role of Avisera the Harpy Queen will be played by none other than the famous Magnimarian diva Allishandra.

After Cyrdrak’s rousing speech, Father Zantus takes the podium to give a quick speech about the new church and gives everyone his thanks and blessings for making it possible. He then invites the crowd to games and free lunch provide by all of the local taverns and inns in Sandpoint, afterwards the church will be officially consecrated. After Zantus finishes speaking he motions a large covered wagon into the church square and gives a quick parable of how the Dena first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child whom she transformed into an immortal butterfly as reward for her aid. Afterwards the cover of the wagon is pulled back to release a thousand children of Desna, the Swallowtail Butterfly. The release of the Swallowtails gets several ohhs and ahhs from the crowd. Children for the balance of the day frantically try to catch the butterflies.

After the clamor dies down, Father Zantus speaks, “Eat and play good people, enjoy the day!”

Everybody is at the festival, please feel free to mingle and describe what you are doing during lunch, etc.

Female Human [Tian-Min] Bard/Artisan-4

Midori arrives at Sandpoint midmorning, the day before the Swallowtail Festival, having travelled with a Varisian caravan.

During the trip, she asks the head of the caravan "Can you recommend a good inn? I'm traveling to Sandpoint to visit my late aunt's family, and I don't know much about the town."

@Midori: I just saw your post, I incorporated it into my first post. I placed everybody at the festival, that way everybody could be in the same place to start things off.


Bel'Tanis waves to Ameiko as he dashes out of the Rusty Dragon, skidding to a stop at the door as he regards two Ameiko's sitting at one of the large oak tables. A wild look of confusion dances across his well proportioned face, one of his thick eyebrows arching incredulously.
"What? How are there- Who is- How did- What?"
"Nevermind. I'll be late if I stay and listen to this. Good bye, Ameiko and, errr, Ameiko. Happy Swallowtail fesitval!"
Bel'Tanis hurries out the door then and down the street at a quick jog. He'd be standing guard at the festival today; an uninteresting and boring role, as it was mostly just for show and dissuading mischief in the crowd. It's unlikely he'd actually have to use his sword or club. But regardless, Father Zantus would be very displeased if he was late again.

While hurrying through the town, he finds that he can't abandon the strange sight from a few minutes prior within the Rusty Dragon. Two Ameiko's?! How was that even possible? Shaking his head as he tries to recall any times Ameiko might have mentioned a sister, his thoughts are interrupted as he collides with Thaddeus.

"Ooof! Oh! Sorry, sir! Sorry! I'll watch where I'm going from now on. So sorry! Err - happy Swallowtail Festival! Sorry again! That's a very nice shirt!" Bel'Tanis hurries on before the man he bumped into can reprimand him, waving briefly and glancing back before his focus returns once again to making it to the church. He arrives with several minutes to spare, taking his position before Mayor Deverin's welcoming address and offering a wink to a slightly exasperated Father Zantus.

Male Human (Shoanti) Cleric of Gorum (Separatist) 4 / HP 38 of 38 / F+6 R+3 W+7 / AC 19.12.17 / Init. +2 / Perc +4

Khrondak leaves his new mount at the Goblin Smash stables and accompanies Daviren and his family to the festival. He watches the opening ceremony with curiosity, but gets impatient with the long, drawn-out speeches. Once father Zantus invites the crowd to eat and enjoy theirselves, he follows Daviren to get some food and drinks and a table. They sit amongst other people in a cramped up bench, but Khrondak's shoanti tattoos seem to work in their benefit as some people immediately stand up to find a new place as he sits down. He's not offended, though, and takes it as regonition of his people's reputation. Khrondak sips a large mug of ale and chews on a tender piece of red meat, and then, looking around, starts rambling.

"I don't see the point in taking that much effort and time to build something like this. Don't they know the gods are everywhere? With the proper rituals, a circle of rocks, the bed of a river or the peak of a mountain can become as much of a holy place as this cathedral, without the need of piling up tons of stone."

Khrondak looks at the symbols of the six celebrated deities displayed by some of the worshippers attending the festival. “I see they do not praise the Lord in Iron here, despite the goblin raids of the past… but then, how could I expect the tshamek to understand the value of battle? It takes a warrior soul. You must know what it is like!" He looks down the mug and mumbles "The festivities are a nice break from all that, though."

He looks Daviren in the eye and says "I speak too much! Tell me more about these other gods, Daviren, enemy of the goblins!"

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

Her routine had been broken that morning, and Scoria was uneasy.

It wasn't entirely uncommon - she'd been interrupted during her early morning meditations and exercises before, ranging from important to annoyingly mundane. Sometimes they needed her help a little earlier on the stonework. Sometimes a co-worker pestered her to join them for breakfast. And sometimes, during her evening readings, that same coworker kept asking her out for a drink, even when she clearly stated she was completely uninterested. That morning had been different, though.

While drinking her morning tea, the cup had cracked. No unusual pressure, no dropping it, and the tea had been at the right temperature. It had just cracked, for no reason at all. She had been so perturbed that she didn't finish it at all, heading out to work, before remembering that she didn't have to do any work that day - it was the festival. Another break in the routine, but one that she should have expected.

She would have to find new work soon. Probably leave Sandpoint and head to Magnimar to find more work as a stonemason. She had a few other talents and skills, but they weren't much use for actual jobs. Perhaps she should think about heading to the mountains, instead. Make herself a nice hut high on the hills where she could be at peace, and there would be no change to her routine at all. Maybe search and study the old monuments.

It made no sense to dwell on that now, as she approached the cathedral grounds, all the people gathered around. Scoria certainly stood out in a crowd. A few inches under six feet, her white skin gleamed with the shine of freshly smoothed marble, studded with the decorative gemstones revealed on her upper arms. Her body was intensely trained for perfection, strong and toned with muscle and little fat. Despite the cooling weather, she still wore the haltered chestwrap - it allowed for the best freedom of movement, and she was just a little prideful about showing off the perfection of her form. Her onyx black hair was tied back into a tail, and the statuesque and nearly unmoving expression on her face completed the idea that she'd been sculpted from stone.

A free lunch was a free lunch, though she only procured a couple pieces of fruit to slowly nibble on while she walked around. For the most part, the townsfolk had gotten used to her presence and unusual appearance, so only recent arrivals would find her appearance jarring at all. Seeing as this was an unusual, routine breaking day, she might as well continue the trend by playing some games.

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

Thaddeus is proud to be standing as a Sherriff's man at the festival. He knows it doesn't mean a whole lot, considering there is a need for more help with all the out of town visitors here for the celebrations. He tries to take up a position evenly spaced from some of the others, to better cover the festival grounds with a watchful eye, yet still be in a position to witness the events.

In the excitement, there is a steady stream of people making their way to the front of the temple, and he is forced to wend his way against the flow to find a position along the outskirts. In his determinination he doesn't even notice the man that he runs into until they had already collided. "Oh, dear! Pardon my.. okay. Happy festival to.. um.. thank you." He is most embarassed, and unable to deliver a profound apology, as the man rushes off before he has much of a chance to get a word out. He doesn't blame him his haste, as the day is bound to be a great one.

He listens intently to the speeches, and is surprised to find he is one of the few that clap at the conclusion of the Sherriff's wise words. After the invocation given by Father Zantus, he whispers a small prayer to Iomedae, and begins to circle throughout the throngs of revelers with an eye for mischief.

He stops at one of the lunch tables, grabbing up a piece of venison kabobbed with onions and tomatoes. Most folks tend to enjoy Ameiko's spiced meals, but they never seem to sit right with him. He still love a nice mellow haunch of meat dressed up with subtle vegetables, like the kind you use for stewing.

As he works his way amongst them all, he overhears a conversation that piques his interest, and listens further to avoid interrupting. It is a large Shoanti addressing the need for religious structures. "Pardon my intrusion, as I almost couldn't help but overhear your assessment of the need for the new temple." He moves closer, to the end of the table the man sits at so everyone sitting there can join in the discourse. "While I agree with your statement that the gods are everywhere, and can be praised at any moment, Blessed be her grace. The structure works as more than a simple place of worship. It is so communities can gather in large groups, and worship together while in a setting allowing for ease of worship. It also stands as a bastion, providing followers with a sense of security, that the house of the gods is better protected and grants them security in times of fear. A tree or a rock, while just as usable in worship, is barely different than any other and does not offer the sense of comfort the building does."

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

Notick had arose early to a knock on his door. He cracked it open to find his uncle standing outside. "Come" is all his uncle says. Notick got dressed and went to the man's chambers, his uncle sitting behind his desk, fiddling with his books, as he always does.

"You're to go to the festival today--"

Notick smiles, as if overjoyed. Before he can speak his thanks, his uncle finishes his statements, "To work," he pauses, looking at Notick with a snide look of amusement. "You are to bring in as much money as you possibly can."

Noticks smile vanished almost instantly. A few seconds more, and his face turned into a scowl. "Uncle - this is a day of celebration! These people don't need someone taking their money from them on such an importan--"

"ENOUGH!" his uncle forcibly shut the half-elf up. Notick turned heel and departed the room without any further discussion, slamming the door behind him.


He grumbled to himself after his typical 'discussion' with his uncle. He hated the man - but he had no other choice but to obey his wishes. He had no other place to go, afterall. A sly smile pops up on his lips - grumbling to himself "Perhaps, today, he gets none of the reward."

He proceeds out of the Fatman's Feedbag hours before any gathering is to take place. With his trusty Dice in his pocket, he would surly bring in a ripe haul this day. He heads into the square of the new chapel, scoping out the best place to set up shop. As the workers begin assembling the rest of the preparations, he pulls his dice from his pocket and sets up shop, preparing to begins his work for the day.

Once the games start, he throws his proverbial hook into the crowd, awaiting to set his bait. "Ladies and Gentlemen, step on up and try your luck! Notick's notoriously infamous game of winning is at your beck. Your odds are with Desna this day, as she blesses the proceedings about us!!!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Scoria pauses in front of the barking young half-elf, an apple held firmly in her mouth as she stares quietly at him. Well, it was an unusual, unorthodox day. She might as well do something else out of the ordinary here, walking forward and examining the dice and the cups.

"...How does this game work?" She asks, removing the apple from her mouth to do so.

Perception on Dice: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Male Human (Shoanti) Cleric of Gorum (Separatist) 4 / HP 38 of 38 / F+6 R+3 W+7 / AC 19.12.17 / Init. +2 / Perc +4

Khrondak listens to the explanation with the same attention as if Thadeus had been sitting with them all along, and actually appreciates the way the man just barged into the conversation to speak his mind. He immediately notices his weapons and garments.

Khrondak laughs a deep, resonant laugh while reflecting on Thadeus' reasoning, without particularly wishing to disrespect anyone. "So, is this a fortress or a temple? My people pray to our ancestors and spirit totems out in the open, and they do not seem to ever be ill at ease. That's the way of the Sklar-Quah. However, if you're telling me this is a fort, that is all the more reason to place honors to Gorum in there." He points to the exquisite cathedral as he utters these last words.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos

Daviren slaps Khrondak on the shoulder after taking a large pull from his flagon. "Ahh good Khrondak, that is why I thought it good to invite you to the festival. To show you a little of how townsfolk live, of course this day is not a normal one."

"But you must know most townsfolk don't give homage to a war god on most occasions, towns people are much to concerned with everyday life."

"Sure you and I are warriors at heart and I suspect a few others here in the crowd are, but most townsfolk are only concerned with their families and if they will have enough coin and food to live."

"They want no part in hunting down goblins."

Daviren then looks at Thaddeus who has joined the conversation, "Ahh look here good Khrondak, this man here appears to be a warrior at heart, he carries his sword at ease."

Daviren motions to Thaddeus to join them at the table. "I believe you are fairly new into town, working for Hemlock?"

"I was about to tell my large Shoanti friend Khrondak here about the gods that have shrines here at the Church."

"First there is Abadar god of merchants and trade."

"The second is Desna which this very festival is a holy day to her followers and she of course is the goddess of travelers and the stars."

"The third is Erastil, old deadeye, of whom I am an ardent follower of." "He is the patron of hunters and farming."

"The fourth is Gozreh lord of the waves."

"The fifth is Sarenrae and she is the goddess of the sun and healing."

"And the final one is Shelyn who is the goddess of beauty and love."

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos

Scoria, you notice that the dice in the possession of the young elf-half appear to be a bit "off", but you are not sure as dice games are not anything you have participated in on a regular basis. However he seems rather genuine about running a fair game.

According to the d20psrd, Loaded Dice (superior) are a DC20-30 to notice they are loaded, depending on the craftsmanship. So I'm going with they look a bit odd to Scoria, because she has no dice games experience. With Profession:Gambler skill, she would have noticed they were loaded.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos

Bel'Tanis after almost arriving late to the start of the festival and getting an exasperated look from Father Zantus. You take your place near the church doors. Father Zantus has tasked you with watching the main doors during the festival, leaving the town guard to cover the grounds.

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

Notick smiles to the odd looking newcomer. “Well that is the question Desna has blessed us for this day, isn’t it?!" he spreads his arms wide, speaking loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear. “It really is quite simple! You roll the dice to test for Desna’s favour – rolling these two six sided dice…” he pauses for dramatic effect, holding the two dice between his fingers in the air for all to see. “You shall roll against I - Rolling a Four and a Two are thy goal – five to one odds if you beat me! If you roll one of the two numbers then closest to the other number, without going over, wins! Two to One odds if Desna wills this outcome in your favour!" He clears his throat a moment before finally finishing, "Oh, and of course a tie would be determined by a re-roll!

He cocks an eyebrow, his smile almost addictive. “All it takes is one silver piece to begin! Would you like to try your luck Mi Lady?!” He bends down slightly, crossing a hand across his stomach and offering the other hand to accept the woman’s payment in a formal bow.

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

I really should have given Notick a perform of some kind, lol. But, it makes sense to not have, considering he absolutely hates swindling people out of their money. The loaded abilities of the dice would always give him the outcome of the dice he wants (a four and a two) when he rolls them in his 'special' way.

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

The woman who looks like a living sculpture listens carefully to the rules of the game, glancing at the dice, thinking to herself before speaking. "It seems rather complicated - why would you not just roll to see who manages to gain the highest numerical value?" She asks, curious. Though it did not deter her from taking a single silver coin out from her coin purse, paying to play the game. She takes the offered dice, getting a feel for them in her hand, before rolling.

1d6 ⇒ 3
1d6 ⇒ 3

"Two threes..." She announces the results, thinking on the offered rules. "So, if you do not roll either a four or a two, we roll again? These rules seem particularly strange, though. I understand that it is a game of chance, but what is the significance of the two and the four? Can they not be any other pairing of numbers?" She asks him.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Perception on his roll: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23


From his position by the church doors, Bel'Tanis watches in silence as the festival blooms into life all around him. Replying with little more than a half-nod of acknowledgment to the few who offered him a wave from the crowd, Bel'Tanis was secretly content with his role. No attention. No spotlight. No one to let down. And just because he'd almost been late, that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his best.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

Thaddeus nods at the question of his time in town, but soon after shakes his head, "I appreciate the offer of a seat good sir, but I have duties I must perform, and would be remiss if I were to sit in religious discussion when I should be keeping an eye out for trouble." He adds, "Despite the blade I wear, I am actually a man in Iomedae's service, and the blade I wear I bear in her glory. I originally hail from the greater temple to her divine grace down in Magnimar. The Pruitt family has served in her name for many generations." he finishes, a great pride on his face in his last statement. "Khrondak, it was a pleasure to meet you, and it is always good to see people willing to hear of the other gods."

Thaddeus continues on his route, and before long comes across one of the gaming booths. He watches briefly from a distance, before deciding to step forward, "Milady, I'm sorry to interrupt your gaming." he apologizes to the patron, then turns his attention to the owner. "Notick, I was made aware of you by the Sheriff. I just wanted to say, I hope your games are enjoyed by many. I would hate for the Belor to hear of any complaints."

Female Human [Tian-Min] Bard/Artisan-4

Midori wanders through the crowd and the town, stopping occasionally to sample games and wares. She particularly enjoys Ameiko's spicy foods, which remind her of home.

She hovers at Notick's game, mildly suspicious, especially after hearing Thaddeus' warning to him, then decides to try it anyway. It is, after all, rather cheap fun.

"I'll try my luck. Here you go." She tosses a silver onto his table and rolls the dice.

1d6 ⇒ 5

1d6 ⇒ 2

"A two and a five."

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

With Scoria

"Ah! Well I am glad you asked!" he clears his throat before explaining, readying his roll. "This is a day of Desna - a time of chance. The four and the two signify the total values of these two dice if you were to add each side together!"

He takes up the dice and shuffles them within his hands as he explains his reasoning for the game. He explains the last portion of the game before rolling:

"And, yes - the game continues until one hits a four or a two. However I do believe Desna wills against that this day!"

He rolls the dice upon finishing.

DC for loaded roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22 Success!

The dice land on a four and a two exactly as expected by Notick. He frowns, somewhat as a play, but also due to feeling bad for taking the woman's money. "Ah too bad my Gemmed lady. It appears Desna does not Favour you this day."

To Thaddeous
"Oh but of course! The sheriff would never dream of interrupting my game. He, of course, knows well that it is a game spoken of from every citizen of this city! A real distraction from the humdrum routine of the day!" He smiles his fake smile to the appointed guard.

With Midori

Frowning again when the other woman comes to play, his mind continually telling him to stop. Watching her roll, he cocks his head to the side resuming his showman display.

"OH what a pity. Perhaps Desna will favour your spirit with my roll!" Notick sucks in a breath shuffling the dice within his hands before shooting the dice.

DC for loaded roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20 Success!

He smiles widely, a fake smile, but his job running his actions out of necessity and routine. "Ah My Lady, I do apologize, but Desna still shines upon me this day. Would either of you care to roll again?!"

He bravely looks up to Thaddeus, "Or how about you, sir Guard?!"

Bluff to Thaddeus: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Bluff to hide his guilty emotions: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

Thaddeus waves off the suggestion without a second's thought, "No thank you all the same. I do not gamble for pleasure. The only gambles worth taking are those that improve the life of the innocent, and those that, if not taken, would bring harm to others." He half bows to the ladies playing, "It is not my wish to imply that you are doing the wrong thing, if this is how you enjoy yourselves and it harms no one but yourself, then that is your choice to make not mine."

He adds as an afterthought, "Besides, I have a job to do, and stopping to play at dice would find me lacking in my duties. Good day to you all, and enjoy the festival."

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos

Thaddeus as you are about to step away from the dice game. Sheriff Hemlock joins the group.

As he approaches, he nods to you, and places his hand upon the pommel of his sheathed long sword and glares at the young half-elf.

"Notick is it?"The sheriff takes a dramatic pause, then continues in is monotone voice. "You run with the Fatman Gang, yes?"

The sheriff then looks to his right and left at Midori and Scoria standing in next to him in slow dramatic fashion.

"Ladies has this man been troubling you with his game of vice?"


Standing near the Church doors, you notice a young half-elf playing a dice game with two women, one of them is an Oread by the name of Scoria, who works as a stonemason on the Church. Interestingly, the game caught the eye of a town watchmen you have seen in town before as well. Shorty thereafter the guard is joined by the Sheriff Hemlock himself.

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

Considering his previous stance on the gambler, Thaddeus actually somewhat defends Notick. "Sir. Thank you for your attention, but no harm has been done, Sir. I was merely warning the man, that you would not be pleased by any complaints given by the townsfolk about the legitimacy of his games." He stands at rigid attention.

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

Scoria looks on impassively as she loses, not making any fuss about it. Coin bought food, shelter, and books, but she could always earn more through her trade. She did find it odd that he happened to roll a two and a four twice in a row. It could be attributed to coincidence.

When the sheriff came around, Scoria looked up at him. She had respect for Hemlock, as he was the law around here, even-handed in his approach. Though why he would be interested in this young man - that was, until the sheriff mentioned that he ran with the Fatman gang.

She did what she could to keep herself out of the affairs of the locals, but apprenticing in Magnimar had made her aware of how gangs were affiliated with organized crime. That, and considering how the dice were 'off', made her aware that perhaps this game was rigged in his favor.

She had no proof to offer though, only perceptions and gut feelings. Still, she stood up, bowing politely to the sheriff in her typical fashion. "No. I have not been troubled. Though I did wish to suggest a rule change, as the current ones are rather complicated. Let the one whom rolls the highest number be the winner. I am sure that is good enough for you?" She asks Notick, putting her silver piece onto the table, shaking the dice in her hand before rolling once more.

1d6 ⇒ 4
1d6 ⇒ 2

...the irony of rolling this result now is not lost upon me.

Scoria looks at the dice, her face a complete mask. Though she wonders if Notick's claims of Desna's fortune don't ring just a bit true. Then again, she did roll in the same fashion he did - perhaps that was how he drew the same result every time?

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

Notick cocks an eyebrow at Thaddeus's rigid demeanor. He looks between him and the sheriff. "I do not know what you are talking about, dear sheriff. I do not 'run' with anyone - I'm just a petty gaming vendor at this whimsical church event!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Notick listens intently to the statuesque woman, watching her roll the dice and gain a perfect roll. His eyes light up, a smile spreads across his face. "Ah! Desna surely has shined on you! You see Sheriff, she has a winning hand!" His smile stays on his face, this time for real. "I must roll to see if she truly wins - so here we go!"

He rolls the dice within his hand and shoots. The realization of the sheriff overlooking the entire event not sticking with the boy. Common sense never was his strong suite...

Cheating Roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17 Success!

"Ah! We both have been graced by Desna! Let us roll again to settle payment! Notick scoops the dice up again, chucking them quickly in hopes of not being caught, as his stupidity starts to catchup with his thoughts.

Cheating Roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16 Success!

"Desna shines her attention upon me this day! It is up to you to distract her shining praise!" He picks the dice up, offering them to the stone mason.

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

Watching Notick throw the bones...rolling a four and a two...and then a four and a two again...the odds were certainly astronomical, as she picks up the dice, getting a much closer look at them now, judging their weight in the palm of her hand.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

After a few moments of contemplation, looking at Notick quietly, she hands the dice over to Sheriff Hemlock, bowing politely to Notick. "I forfeit my roll. It would not matter if I rolled perfectly once more, as I am sure that you would repeat the result you have rolled, four times in a row." Looking over at Midori, she gestures for her to stand up with her. "I believe that I should look at other games. That one over there throwing balls at bottles seems to be interesting," She announces, stepping away for now - letting the law sort things out.

Male Human (Shoanti) Cleric of Gorum (Separatist) 4 / HP 38 of 38 / F+6 R+3 W+7 / AC 19.12.17 / Init. +2 / Perc +4

After Thadeus leaves, Khrondak raises his mug to Daviren. "Erastil, patron of huntsmen! I can drink to your god, brave Daviren!" Khrondak takes a large gulp of ale and cleans his mouth with the back of his hand. He notices some aggitation nearby. "It looks like the sheriff and his soldiers are trying to stop all disturbances. There goes the chance of a good brawl breaking out to liven up the festival..." He then spots a woman that seems to be made of stone. He points at her and asks Daviren with extreme curiosity "By the four winds, what sort of creature is that?" He stands up to get a better look.


Bel'Tanis watches the dice game with passing curiosity from his position by the church door. He shakes his head in befuddlement when he sees Other Ameiko trying her hand at the game, still unable to figure out where the woman seemingly sprang from over night.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


Daviren stares into his empty flagon and mutters to himself,"hmmm the Two Knights Ale, certainly is not what it used be."

He then looks over to what Khrondak is looking at in the crowd by the dice game."Ohh yes the well muscled woman who looks like stone, Father Zantus hired her on last year as a stonemason for the Church, she doesn't say much and keeps to herself."

"I'm not even certain of her name."

"I believe she was sages refer to as an Oread, they are born of elemental earth. Not sure if they are dangerous, but she seems not to cause any trouble."

Daviren looks again in to his empty cup, "but I tell you she caused quite a stir when she arrived."

"Of course that is not all of the odd strangers hired by Zantus in the last year, see past the crowd over there?"

"That tall man standing by the church doors also arrived in town a few months ago, and the good Father took him in as a Church guard and laborer."

"He has strange glowing eyes, but he seems a nice enough fellow."

Female Human [Tian-Min] Bard/Artisan-4

Midori laughs. "The luck of the dice seems to be working for the local economy rather than the visitors today. Surely, sheriff, that's a point in his favor?

She pauses. "Though, surely" she turns to Notick 'someone involved in gangs and cheating visitors would perhaps allow someone else to win to draw in more play? This one doesn't seem to be that effective at drawing in victims."

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


As you are trying to figure out why there are two Ameikos, of which you have to ask Scoria the Stonemason, who she is after the Festival. Of course you don't know Scoria well, but she has been pleasant to deal with on church building matters, if a bit insistent on proper building methods. Father Zantus approaches you with a plate of food; spiced sausage, fried potatoes, roasted vegetables and a hunk of bread.

"My son please take some lunch, I doubt any vagrants will be coming into the Church on such a day."

"Quite the crowd around the young half-elf's dice game, even the Sheriff is there."

"Strange to Scoria in the middle of it, she usually keeps to herself and her routine."

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

"Ah, but surly such a woman as yourself can not doubt Desna just favours others in the means of luck." He pauses a moment, giving the Tian woman an admiring look over before finishing his thought, "Such beauty does not grace everyone. Just as my luck does not grace everyone. Some things are just out of our control!"

He clears his throat, "I just maneuver to her will. If she demands I lose to bring in more patrons, then I will lose! Otherwise I just roll the dice."

Bluff: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 Apparently, Desna truly IS on my side here. >;D

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

Scoria attempts playing a few other games after Notick's, paying the requisite fee for each. First, she attempts to knock down the bottles in front of her, using the three offered balls to play, tossing them one after another at the pyramid of bottles.

Ball 1: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Ball 2: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Ball 3: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

After that, she tries out the strength game, foregoing using the offered mallet, and just striking the lever on the ground with a powerful chopping kick.

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

After whetting her appetite with these rather spontaneous acts (It was a strange day, after all), she settles in on the group benches for a light lunch, indulging in whatever simple, whole fruits she can find, along with some simple bread - she didn't indulge in butter or any other toppings.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

She's quite unaware of anyone staring at her - she's been here long enough that she doesn't believe that anyone would take any special notice of her.


"Ah, I suppose you're right, Father. Gozreh's smiled on us with the weather and it looks as if Vhiski's nephew caught Desna's eye as well. Nethys knows the day is looking bright indeed." He nods gratefully to Zantus as he takes the plate, then turns and weaves his way into the press of the crowd, angling toward the dice game.

Realizing he'd feel quite odd standing around with a plate of food while observing the goings on, he veers slightly aside toward a table that has plenty of room left near what looked to be a Shoanti barbarian. He seats himself timidly then recognizes the Shoanti's companion. "Errr, excuse me, Davin, isn't it? Oh - Daviren, my apologies, I'm still meeting new people all the time and haven't yet mastered the names of those I'd already met prior. Hard to keep it all straight sometimes. Daviren. Good to see you again!" He stands then, reaching over to shakes Daviren's hand. He turns also to the Shoanti and offers his hand with an easy smile, "Bel'Tanis. Pleased to meet you!"

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


The Sheriff looks over the dice Scoria just handed to him, he turns them slowly over in his hands inspecting them.

"Well, Notick we appear to have a problem, these are loaded dice, you are running a scam."

"Thaddeus, good job rooting this miscreant out."

He then looks back to Notick, "Well boy I think it is time to head down to the garrison with me for some question and answer games."

"Conning workers of the church and newcomers to the town," looking at Midori and Scoria.

Just as Sheriff Belor finishes speaking, two town guards coming running up to him. "Sheriff we have problem with Gorvi down by the Hagfish, he was accosting two barmaids running festival errands."

"Did you take him in to sleep it off?"

The two guards look nervously at each other, "not exactly Sir, he beat two of our men silly and we ran back to tell you to get reinforcements."

The sheriff with a displeased look on his face, "Alright, lets grab another half dozen men at the festival and go and get Gorvi subdued."

He then looks at Thaddeus, "Lad, I need you here, please see that Notick remains in your custody."

The the sheriff points at Notick,"I will deal with you when I get back."

The Sheriff and the rest of the town guards gather and run towards the south end of town.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


Daviren, lets out a chuckle as Bel'Tanis mixes up his name.

"Well met again Bel'Tanis, no worries on the name mix up," as he reaches out to shakes Bel'Tanis's hand.

"Come and sit by my companion Khrondak and I."

"Our flagons have been refilled of ale and we are swapping stories and watching the goings on."

"I see good Father Zantus has given you a break from your guard duties."

With that the guards along with Sheriff Hemlock begin to leave the church grounds.

"Hmm that is strange indeed, and it looks like they left the other guard that was with us earlier to watch the half-elf."

"Bel'Tanis, I noticed the stonemason has taken a seat at the tables, you should invite her over here to sit with us."

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

Grumbling after the sheriff examines his dice more closely, he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck in nervous frustration. He looks sheepishly to Thaddeus and Midori, feeling even worse for his actions.

After the sheriff walks off he, for the first time, speaks in his actual tone. That of a more calm and relaxed, and reserved person than his showman persona had given. "Well... I... Apologize for any confusion..." he pauses a moment, following the sheriff with his eyes, "I hope everything is okay!"

He does his best to bring any possible attention off of himself.

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

Thaddeus watches the other men rush off to the action, excitement on his features, but once they are gone he let's out a heavy sigh. "Some things never change. The other boys run to play, and what's next I go kneel in the chapel and recite my invocations?" He mumbles to himself, disappointedly.

Coming back to the now he turns to look at Notick sheepishly, embarrased by his mutterings. "Well, if you're under my charge, I would request you walk with me as I make rounds. It will do no good to have me stuck here with you AND be unable to do my duty to the Sheriff. We haven't been formally introduced, I'm Thaddeus Pruitt the fourth, of the Magnimar Pruitts, bastions of faith in Iomedae's holy light."

Female Human [Tian-Min] Bard/Artisan-4

"I am Midori Masaki, also of Magnimar. With my father's recent -death- and my mother choosing to enter a life of pure dedication to Brigh, I've come to Sandpoint to visit my relatives, the Kaijitsus. I'm staying with my cousin Ameiko."

She looks at Thaddeus and Notick. "I'm going to explore a little more of this fine town and enjoy it's festival. Please tell the sheriff that I, for one, do not intend to press charges. I saw how he'd been rolling and still chose to put money down."

She chuckles, ruefully. "Father would have been very annoyed with me for falling for that simple a scam, I suspect."

Male Human (Shoanti) Cleric of Gorum (Separatist) 4 / HP 38 of 38 / F+6 R+3 W+7 / AC 19.12.17 / Init. +2 / Perc +4

Khrondak looks suspiciously at Bel'Tanis stretched out hand, but shakes it anyway. "My people call me the Iron Forged, as I reserve my birth name for friends and relatives. I see the few armsmen in town seem to flock to this table."

When Daviren suggests inviting Soria over, Khrondak supports his plea. "You know the stone woman, Bel'Tanis? Please do bring her here, she has spiked my curiosity!" Khrondak observes Soria playing the strength game. "Unusually strong for a woman, isn't she?"


Bel'Tanis coughs at the men's suggestion, "Know her? Errr, well... I wouldn't say that I know her know her, if you know what I mean. I mean, we're civil and recognize each other, at least I think she does, but it's not as if we've ever, well, talked."

He waives his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat before the two can harry him any further then gets up and approaches Scoria. Casting the two men a rueful glance at about the half-way point, he finally just takes a breath a walks over.

"Good morning, er, Scoria. Happy Swallowtail festival! So, well," he gestures back to the table from whence he came, "Daviren and the other fellow there asked me if I'd ask you to come join us at our table. The other one, not Daviren, has an odd name, 'The Iron Forged', which sounds more like a title to me than an actual name but I'm not a Shoanti so, who knows. But yes! Come join us?" His cheeks flush slightly out of awkward embarrassment, but he covers it well with a flash of his easy smile and a slightly playful, inquisitive arch to his eyebrows.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


Notick, after the Sheriff and the rest of the guards depart. You notice at the edge of the church square, a short and well muscled, dark haired man known as Vitoary (better known as Vito) one of the members of the Fatman gang watching you rather intently.

You know Vito quite well, as he is the most ruthless enforcer in your Uncle's gang.

After making eye contact with you, he turns and leaves the square slipping into the cover of the nearby buildings.

Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

The oread woman glances up at Bel'Tanis as the man approaches her. She knows him - one of the guards for the Cathedral. Considering how the last one ended up, the additional security seemed necessary. She bit into a pear, taking a small bite and chewing slowly while he spoke to her. Strange that he would be so nervous, though perhaps he was intimidated by her appearance.

She glances over to look at this 'iron forged', noting the shaved head and the tattoos - a Shoanti tribesman, then. Unusual to see one around a town like this. In fact, she was pretty sure that the huge man was getting more glances than Scoria, which meant that he was a recent arrival. Perhaps he was here for the festival, then.

Finishing the bite of fruit in her mouth, Scoria contemplates the invitation for a moment, before standing up, picking her plate up with her as well, walking over towards the Shoanti, before silently sitting across from him. Once she's properly seated again, she picks the pear back up once more, taking another careful bite from it and chewing slowly. She could certainly eat seated at any table, but meal times were never a time for conversation - one had to experience their food to appreciate it, and so she was silent as she ate her simple fare.

Dead Goblins, Dead Geckos


Daviren watches Bel'Tanis escort Scoria to the table where they are seated. He stands as she takes a seat, "Well met lady of stone, I hope are enjoying yourself at the festival."

"I am Daviren Hosk owner of the Goblin Smash stables, and this is big guy next to me likes to be called "Iron Forged," it is his honorific."

"And I'm sure you already know Bel'Tanis."

Male Half Elf Magus / level 3 (AC: 15 [T:12 F: 13] [HP: 18/18] Fort: +3 Ref: +3 Will +2 Perc: +4 Init: +2)

Before being 'escorted' by Thaddeus, he grabs his gear from where he had setup shop. Placing the backpack upon his back and double checking everything before he is ready to leave, tying his sword belt around his waist. "It's not like I can go far" he says matter-of-factly to his captor.

After noticing Vito, he does his best to hide the fact that he saw the man. A pit within his stomach causing a slight ache at the possible implications of his being here. "Was he here to keep an eye on me?!" he thinks to himself. "Or is he here for something worse...?"

He had to find out.

As he follows behind Thaddeus, he does his best to slip away undetected to head towards the building he saw Vito in. If he could put a stop to anything that his uncle had planned, the better off this fair town would be. He had to investigate.

Untrained Stealth 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19


Bel'Tanis turns as Scoria wordlessly rises from her seat and walks by him in silence over to the other table. "Errrr... a 'yes', then?"

He follows her back over to the table, scratching the back of his head as he does so. He sits just as Daviren finishes his introductions and looks expectantly between Iron Forged and Scoria while returning to his rapidly cooling plate of food.

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Male Human (Shoanti) Cleric of Gorum (Separatist) 4 / HP 38 of 38 / F+6 R+3 W+7 / AC 19.12.17 / Init. +2 / Perc +4

Khrondak watches Scoria sit down without paying much attention to the rest of them. He stares at her intensively and, as she stays her tongue, he bursts out "Woman, are you made of stone on the insde as well?", and laughs loudly. "As you can, see, I for one have fire in my innards."

He leans over in her direction and speaks to her face. "You are right to be suspicious, though; I am, too. One should not make friends lightly, lest an undeserving friend slit your throat in your sleep. But that won't be us, certainly not today! Now is not time for seriousness, but for celebration - or so my goblin hunting comrade says!" he proclaims, strongly patting Daviren on the shoulder.

He drinks again, and praises Scoria's earlier performance playing the festival's games. "That was quite a feat of strength you did there. Where does that come from?"

Male Human Whiteblade Magus of Iomedae 4 (AC: 14 (18 w/shield) [T: 10 FF: 14 (18)] | HP: 34/34 | F+5, R+0, W+4 | Init: +2 |Perc: +0/+2 with blade drawn)

He bows more nobly at Midori's introduction, "Well met, Lady Masaki, though I offer my deepest condolences for the loss of your father. Your mother's focus on faith is not unheard of, as many turn to religion after a great loss. Mayhaps when we have the opportunity, we can sit at a meal together and talk of the city of monuments? Enjoy the rest of the festival" He bows once again as she heads off into the event.

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 1. Wow, even with asking for a modifier for not letting his quarry out of his sight, that's a fail.

Thaddeus loses himself in daydreams of the excitement the Sheriff and his men are facing, with maybe a tad bit of appreciating Midori's egress, which seems to be enough for Notick to slip away unseen. By the time he notices the man has left, he berates himself heavily before scouring the last place he remembers seeing him. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but now Thaddeus will most likely get in trouble for him escaping.

Female Human [Tian-Min] Bard/Artisan-4

"That would be nice. I'll look for you later. Where should we meet?"

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Female Oread Monk of the Sacred Mountain 4 (AC: 16 (20) [T: 15 F: 14] HP: 38/38 Fort: +7 Ref: +7 Will +8 Perc: +10 Init: +2)

The Shoanti talked too much. Borderline rude to ask her questions when she was putting food in her mouth. She swallowed the remaining bite in her mouth before setting the half-eatened pear down onto her platter, not making eye contact with the bald man as she speaks very quietly.

"This fruit I am eating comes from a tree. A tree that has stood and grown for decades, producing fruit every year. A farmer and his family has tended to this tree, perhaps even planted the sapling. Their sweat from their work, and blood to defend their farm is part of this fruit. The same for all food - from the farmers who toiled to produce them, to the chefs, bakers, and cooks who have prepared today's feasts and meals, hundreds of hours of work went into the creation of this meal."

Now she glances up at the Iron Forged, eyes that glitter like sapphire meeting his own gaze, as impassive as her expression was. "For all their efforts, I must cherish and appreciate each and every bite to their fullest. Anything less would be disrespectful to what they have done for me. So please, wait until I have finished my meal before you ask anymore questions of me," she implores politely, before picking the pear back up again, biting once more into its flesh and chewing slowly and deliberately.

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Bel'Tanis' jaw goes slack with fascination as he watches Scoria's soft-spoken rebuke of Iron Forged. Inadvertently, his wrists and grip go slack as well and the clatter of his fork falling to the plate draws a startled yelp from him. In the blink of an eye, as if nothing had happened at all, he returns to eating his food - being exaggeratedly deliberate to focus either on his plate or on all the festivities and people to his left, which just so happens to keep him looking away from Oread and the Shoanti.

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