Where It All Began: Dragoncat's Rise of the Runelords (Inactive)

Game Master Dragoncat

Current Date: Starday, 4th of Neth, 4710 AR

Current Chapter: The Skinsaw Murders

Current Map

Foxglove Manor


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The gameplay thread is open for dotting!


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Firsties! (well, kinda) Lucky me!


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Dot!


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5

A slender man with skin so pale it is nearly translucent steps in. He turns and looks back at the door. You get the sense that he is not sure whether he is arriving or leaving. "Say... Wasn't I just here?"

Dot.


Dotting!


The Swallowtail Festival!

Starday, 22nd of Rova, 4710 AR

A momentous day has arrived at the small coastal town of Sandpoint. In contrast to its normal, sleepy state, the town square has become a hotbed of activity, with vendors setting up stalls, tables being carefully arranged, and goods of all shape and size being brought in. The chefs of Sandpoint's inns and taverns are working diligently to serve their finest dishes, but everyone knows that the Rusty Dragon's curry-spiced salmon is the most anticipated meal, over the lobster chowder of the Hagfish or the White Deer's peppercorn venison. Around the square, several booths and spaces for games are being set up, ranging from tug-of-war to sack races to weight lifting contests.

The day of the Swallowtail Festival has arrived!

Once everything is prepared and the townsfolk have gathered, four people who appear to be town officials step onto a podium with four chairs set upon it. A brown-haired, kind-eyed lady clad in dark blue noble's garb steps forward to address the crowd.

"Hello everyone! Allow me to bid any new arrivals welcome to our town of Sandpoint! For those of you who don't know, my name is Kendra Deverin. I'm the mayor here. Some would say that I've put the most effort into bringing this festival to town; I respectfully disagree. That credit, I believe, should go to everyone who put in their time and effort to get all this together. Hell, even old Larz Rovanky put more effort in than I, and you all know how dedicated he is to his leatherwork! I'm surprised he could find time in his busy day to do so." Ms. Deverin says, eliciting some laughs from most of the crowd. A man dressed in brown leathers wearing a dour expression on his face doesn't appear to find it funny.

"Oh, lighten up Larz! It's a festival, you're allowed to have some fun too!" Mayor Deverin says before turning to the rest of the speakers with her. "But before things get too underway, I have some other folks here with a few things to say. Without further adieu, our very own sheriff, Belor Hemlock!" With that, she cedes her spot to a dark-skinned, bald man in a well-worn breastplate, carrying a longsword.

"Thank you, ma'am. Now, I don't mean to be a wet blanket on this occasion--on the contrary, I'm always glad to see everyone staying safe today--but I cannot, in good conscience, forget the tragedies that brought us to this day. That night when the Sandpoint Cathedral was consumed in a fire that sent two of our own to the court of Pharasma before their time. I believe a moment of silence would be appropriate to honour the memory of how much we lost that day." Sheriff Hemlock bows his head.

A sad silence falls on the proceedings until the sheriff raises his head again. "Now, I understand that a bonfire is planned for later in the festival. Please, I ask you, do not allow such a tragedy to repeat itself. Stay safe, and enjoy yourselves." Sheriff Hemlock steps back. "And allow me to introduce our next speaker, Cyrdak Drokkus, our resident thespian & theatre owner."

Stepping into his place is a brightly dressed man with a neatly trimmed goatee. "Thank you, Sheriff, for your concern. Now, lemme tell you something, getting our cathedral rebuilt was a hassle and a half; we put a lot of money into this big boy here." He points at the cathedral. "No kidding; we turned up every seat cushion, mattress and pillow in Sandpoint to get funds. We even managed to get Magnimar to donate a couple of gold pieces towards this project! I know! Madness, nothing short of it!" He says with a chuckle. "Anyway, before I let Father Zantus take the stand, allow me to extend to you an invitation to the opening night of my newest production: 'The Harpy's Curse'. And if you're having doubts as to its quality, let me just say this: you ever hear of Allishanda? You know, the famous Magnimarian diva? Starred in several Chelish operas last season? Well, she's going to play the lead role of Avisera, the harpy queen!"

Cyrdak clears his throat. "Anyway, let's have a round of applause for Father Zantus!" He steps aside amidst a good bit of applause, allowing a younger-looking man clad in priestly vestments of Desna to step forward. He looks rather bashful at all the attention he's being given.

*ahem* "Thank you, Cyrdak, for your kind words. Now, I've never been one for speeches, so let me just thank you all for coming today. Whether you're a local or someone passing through on your way to parts unknown, thank you for taking the time to visit. Now, let the Swallowtail Festival begin!"

As soon as Father Zantus finishes, a tarp is pulled off a nearby wagon and a cage inside it is opened, releasing countless butterflies into the air. The crowd cheers, and the festivities begin.


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5

Ilya loved the beginnings of things. Everything was so clear at the beginnings. Today, everyone was moving in the right direction towards the town square where they were supposed to be going... or at least, where he had seen them going. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether he saw something because he expected to, or he expected something because he had seen it.

All he knew for sure was that after the beginnings, everything became so muddy and convoluted.

The blue tint to his skin did not usually stand out enough to elicit comment from strangers, but today a few of the children pointed and whispered to parents. The festival contained all sorts of brightly colored participants. Ilya supposed that pointing and laughing were all part of the fun.

He stopped short just as a gaggle of children came rushing around the corner, looking for all the world like he had expected them to be there. The person behind him, apparently did not have the same anticipation, and bumped roughly into his back.

Tag anyone?


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

As the various figures on the stage yammer away, Nicat waits impatiently, almost hopping from foot to foot, his eyes shifting constantly to the vendors’ booths and tables. They are so full of interesting things to see and taste and touch, he can’t help but sidle his way through the crowd to get a bit closer, though he stops moving and looks about carefully when Sheriff Hemlock begins to speak. Did he see me? Not that I’m doing anything wrong, but I’ve gotten in enough trouble with the sheriff, just trying to have a good time…

When Father Zantus begins to speak, Nicat knows things are about to get going, and braces himself to make a dash for the booths, though he can’t decide whether he should go first to the glittering displays at the glassworks booth, or try his luck at the bottle-toss game, or sample the fat, steaming pies laid out on the table in front of the baker’s wife. As soon as Father Zantus calls for the festival to begin, Nicat takes his first, quick steps toward the booths, only to be stopped by the loud ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ from the crowd. He spins around and is amazed to see a great cloud of butterflies taking to the air. His jaw drops and his eyes open wide, and he actually claps his hands in delight before rushing toward the winged flowers, symbols of Desna, who has blessed him with such luck in life.

Unfortunately, his eagerness to be close to the booths means he’s now quite a ways from the butterfly cart. He pushes and squeezes through the crowd, hoping to catch, or at least touch, one of Lady Luck’s symbols. Bursting out of the knot of people and scrambling onto the cart, he leaps high into the air, hands outstretched toward the lowest of the beautiful lavender and white creatures fluttering lightly on the breeze. Sadly, halflings flutter much less lightly on the breeze, and he feels himself falling toward the ground, having failed to even brush the wing of one of the butterflies. His fall is stopped abruptly by a pair of large, strong arms, which end in calloused, dark-skinned hands. Though he suspects already what he’ll find, Nicat’s eyes follow the arms up to the brawny shoulders and from there to the face of Sheriff Belor Hemlock. The sheriff gives Nicat an admonitory glare and says, ”No more flying today, okay, litte fellow? I’ve got my eye on you.”

He sets Nicat down and gives him one more glare for good measure before Nicat nods, knuckles his forehead, says a quick, ”Right, Sheriff, got it, no more flying,” and darts off into the crowd heading for the booths, tables and games. He spots some faces he recognizes and calls out, ”Ekan, Fulko, over here! Sylvia, did you see me flying with the butterflies?”


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Ekan Waterfield was not a party goer by nature. Smiles hadn't come naturally to him since he was a boy. Stoic was his watch word, though sometimes his reservedness led folks to think him dull, others who knew him told him he should try to enjoy life more. So he was here, trying to be a part of a community that, despite all his time here, still didn't feel quite like home. Home was a shattered village that likely never would be again. Still, he was TRYING to be social.

Ekan admired most, the foods. As a cook himself, he'd become adept at numerous dishes, but compared to the masters who served at the festival, he realized he was indeed still an amateur. His lifestyle meant moderation and control was a must, but today was one day he could sample freely if he liked. Still, sampling was all he did, though it was tempting. When the speech making started, he respectfully paused and listened. He applauded on cue, and moved not a muscle during the moment of silence.

Then the speeches were done, and the butterflies took flight. It was testament to the young man's spirit that while he might be reserved, he could be enraptured by such beautiful moments as much as the next fellow.

So much so that when he started to move, he didn't realize he was about to walk into someone...

Quote:

The blue tint to his skin did not usually stand out enough to elicit comment from strangers, but today a few of the children pointed and whispered to parents. The festival contained all sorts of brightly colored participants. Ilya supposed that pointing and laughing were all part of the fun.

He stopped short just as a gaggle of children came rushing around the corner, looking for all the world like he had expected them to be there. The person behind him, apparently did not have the same anticipation, and bumped roughly into his back.

Sure, Ilya why not. We'll say he failed his perception check which is normally pretty good :)

Ekan bumped into the blue tinted fellow, and immediately felt foolish, "My apologies, I was...distracted, not that there is any excuse for that."
It was doubly embarrassing for one of his training as he'd been taught to always be aware of his surroundings. It was a lesson he had just failed and revelry was no excuse for it.


Joviality and celebration filled the air of Sandpoint; people swarmed like bees in a hive, their attentions divided between this game event, that shop stall or the conversation they had with a friend or relative. The store owners talked deals with their customers, took gold and gave goods. Children of all backgrounds and all sizes ran across the streets, playing with their friends or hurrying to see an attraction. Suffice to say it was crowded and to most it would not only be hard to maneuver in such a place it would be hard to listen to anything in particular if it was not directed to you personally...There were exceptions of course, and one of them was the muscled man, that could be described as a walking, talking and loudly laughing weapon rack; to Fulko, the crowds, the noise, the various buildings and alleys were all part of one large jungle...but he had no prey to hunt today and that suited him fine, for now...

I wonder if I've got enough money to catch the show His hand moves to his well hid coin pouch and felt at its contents, a deep exaggerated frown etched itself on his stubble ridden face Uncle, uncle...you've spent way more than you should on drinks, its a small wonder you tried to catch so many criminals, the amount of drinks you've bought could have filled two lakes...and a half That thought rubbed away his scowl and brought a small smile to his face Maybe I can talk with that Cyrdak, he seems like a reasonable man, I could do him a favor or two if he lets me see the show for free Some scenarios already began appearing in the tall man's head as he considered the subject further.

What broke his concentration was the sound of an arrow jamming into something, a sound he had heard quite often Hmmmm not half bad He thought as he turned his attention towards the archery competition, in particular he was looking at a young man drawing a bow while talking sweetly to a beautiful woman "She'll leave you if you miss lad!" Shouted Fulko at the contestant, before letting out a large guffaw.

Diplomacy(To see if the crowd takes his words in good spirits): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9 Ah a 1 on the first roll of the game...

Nicat Brightluck wrote:
”Ekan, Fulko, over here! Sylvia, did you see me flying with the butterflies?”

Fulko waved to the halfling with a toothy smile on his face "I saw the sheriff almost consider flinging you away with all his might" He let out a small laugh "What is this, the third time he scolded you today? He'd probably have nothing to do without you around" Then his hands moved to his stubble as an obviously mock look of greed came to his eyes.

"He may even put a bounty on your head, thanks to all the trouble you're giving him" He said with a tone so drenched in greed that it could only be fake.


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5

Ilya pitched forward onto the ground in a bruising tumble. An exclamation of surprise burst from his throat, as he rolled over onto his back. "That was quite... unexpected!"

Ekan Waterfield wrote:
Ekan bumped into the blue tinted fellow, and immediately felt foolish, "My apologies, I was...distracted, not that there is any excuse for that."

"No, no, no! Don't apologize!" Instead of looking upset, the slender man sprawled on the ground looked downright elated. "You have no idea how delightful it is to be startled for a change. It's Ekan, right? No, we've never been introduced. But, we will be eventually, and often that's enough, if you take my meaning."

"As a matter of fact, I was expecting to run into you. I just hadn't anticipated you running into me!"


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric of Shelyn 2 | HP 19/19 | AC 18 T 12 FF 16 | CMD 14 | F +5 R +3 W +7 | Init +7 | Per +3

A young blonde woman dressed in a calf-length blue dress with silver trim walked slowly with Fulko. Her dress was modest yet still revealed some skin, a low neckline and thigh high slits accentuating her natural beauty. She clapped out in joy at the sight of the butterflies flittering about into the heavens. As Nicat called out, she waved to him, "Yes, I did see, and you were magnificent!"

At Fulko's words, she laughs and slaps his arm half-heartedly, "He only teases you, Nicat! Go! Have fun! I'm sure Hemlock will have larger problems today with the bonfire and the fireworks than what you'll be getting into!"

Using a long glaive as a walking stick, the markings along the side giving her away as a priestess of Shelyn, she walked amongst the crowd, delighted in the innocence she felt around her. Shrieking in joy, she clutches Fulko's arm, pointing to a table not too far away, "Pies!"


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Nicat’s brow crinkles with concern at Fulko’s words and he asks, ”Do you think so? A bounty?” As he says this, the concern on his face transforms into a puffed-up pride and he continues, ”A bounty! I like the sound of that…wait a minute, you’re having me on, Fulko!” He laughs good-naturedly, then stops and points behind Fulko, saying, ”Hey, look at that, Ekan’s just knocked down a blue-skinned guy! That’s not something I get to see, or say, every day! Let’s go take a look, maybe the blue fellow will buy you a drink if you haul him off the ground.”

He begins to skip over toward Ekan and Ilya, commenting as he does so, ”Though the blue guy seems pretty happy to be on the ground. Go figure.”

As he gets closer, he calls out, "Ekan, who's your lazy friend? Does he always lie down to have a chat?"

Ninja'd by the lovely Sylvia, let's just roll with it. Nicat's comfortable with moving in several directions at once.


Fulko wrote:
What broke his concentration was the sound of an arrow jamming into something, a sound he had heard quite often Hmmmm not half bad He thought as he turned his attention towards the archery competition, in particular he was looking at a young man drawing a bow while talking sweetly to a beautiful woman "She'll leave you if you miss lad!" Shouted Fulko at the contestant, before letting out a large guffaw.

Most of the other onlookers don't pay Fulko much attention, but the archer shoots him a dirty look. His girlfriend takes a step back as the archer lines up his shot.

Archery Shot!: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
The archer lets his arrow fly and sticks the outer ring of the target. He grumbles before nocking another arrow. This appears to be his last shot.

"What, you think you're so better than me? Step on up then. I'll bet you couldn't even hit a cow." It's obvious from his tone that he's challenging Fulko.

"Banny, please, you don't need to be so confrontational." His girlfriend says. She runs a hand through her long brown hair.


Female Dwarf Transmuter 5/Cyphermage 1 | HP 44/44 | Physical Enhancement +2 Str; Telekinetic Fist 7/7
Stats:
AC 12, T 12, FF 10; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6; Init +7; Perception +9

Eostre applauds when appropriate with the speeches, being new to the town and wanting to make a good first impression. When the butterflies are released, it actually brings a smile to her face. After all the hardship she'd been through, maybe it was time to relax and enjoy things a little. After all, she wasn't sure who to talk to to follow up on Paulinus' research anyway. She catches a whiff of something delicious and wanders over, noticing that her glaive wasn't the only one sticking out over the heads of the crowd today. The other glaive appeared to be the hand of a woman pointing at the pies she'd just smelled.

She casts her eyes about to see who's selling said pies.


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)
Ilya Oftwrong wrote:

Ilya pitched forward onto the ground in a bruising tumble. An exclamation of surprise burst from his throat, as he rolled over onto his back. "That was quite... unexpected!"

Ekan Waterfield wrote:
Ekan bumped into the blue tinted fellow, and immediately felt foolish, "My apologies, I was...distracted, not that there is any excuse for that."

"No, no, no! Don't apologize!" Instead of looking upset, the slender man sprawled on the ground looked downright elated. "You have no idea how delightful it is to be startled for a change. It's Ekan, right? No, we've never been introduced. But, we will be eventually, and often that's enough, if you take my meaning."

"As a matter of fact, I was expecting to run into you. I just hadn't anticipated you running into me!"

"It is Ekan, Ekan Waterfield. You expected me here? Did you need something? I think I hear a friend of mine calling. It seems I've been rude to him as well without intent." It's clear he isn't going to leave, but rather waves to Nicat from where he is.

"Pardon me, Nicat, no, I didn't see anything but the butterflies themselves it seems. Most unlike me. I should remember lessons in concentration," He chides himself, "I just ran into..." He looks to Ilya, "I'm sorry, what is your name?"


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5
Ekan Waterfield wrote:
"It is Ekan, Ekan Waterfield. You expected me here? Did you need something? I think I hear a friend of mine calling. It seems I've been rude to him as well without intent." It's clear he isn't going to leave, but rather waves to Nicat from where he is.

"Ah, yes. Nicat and Fulko, arm-in-arm with Sylvia, of course. You were going to introduce me, yes? I suppose you must've been... else how would I remember their names?"

Ekan Waterfield wrote:
"Pardon me, Nicat, no, I didn't see anything but the butterflies themselves it seems. Most unlike me. I should remember lessons in concentration," He chides himself, "I just ran into..." He looks to Ilya, "I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Didn't I tell you? I'm certain I did. Or rather, I'm quite sure I will. That's really the same thing in the end. But, nobody else sees it that way, do they? So, it's best if I remind you that I am Ilya, the one you all delight in calling 'Ilya Oftwrong'. Don't you remember?"


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

"You seem to me to be somewhat confused, Ilya," The monk is not sure how to put it more tactfully, and wonders just how hard he hit the poor fellow when he ran into him.


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5
Ekan Waterfield wrote:
"You seem to me to be somewhat confused, Ilya," The monk is not sure how to put it more tactfully, and wonders just how hard he hit the poor fellow when he ran into him.

Ilya laughs with genuine mirth. "Just so. But, you only see it that way now. Look at it through the lens of past tomorrow and you'll see it a bit differently. Naturally you can only do that later. Shall we?" he indicates Ekan's friends.


Anyone Eying The Pies
The stall with the pies is manned by two young women who look almost identical with their dark hair & olive skin. They dress differently, with one of them clad in soft browns and blues and the other in deep yellows and whites.

There's a bit of a crowd by their stand, each of them clamoring for a pie to start their festival day.


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

"Ah, yes," Ekan says, not sure if Ilya is addled, or so profoundly wise as to be confusing. He heads with Ilya to join his friends


Female Dwarf Transmuter 5/Cyphermage 1 | HP 44/44 | Physical Enhancement +2 Str; Telekinetic Fist 7/7
Stats:
AC 12, T 12, FF 10; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6; Init +7; Perception +9
GM_Runecat wrote:

Anyone Eying The Pies

The stall with the pies is manned by two young women who look almost identical with their dark hair & olive skin. They dress differently, with one of them clad in soft browns and blues and the other in deep yellows and whites.

There's a bit of a crowd by their stand, each of them clamoring for a pie to start their festival day.

Eostre works her way through the crowd towards the pie saleswomen.


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric of Shelyn 2 | HP 19/19 | AC 18 T 12 FF 16 | CMD 14 | F +5 R +3 W +7 | Init +7 | Per +3

Sylvia starts dragging Fulko and Nicat with her to the pie table. "Hurry, before the honey ones are all gone!", she shouts at them with great enthusiasm. Coming upon the table, she casts a weathered eye on the pies, looking to find the best one before it is sold to the unworthy masses. Looking up to the women, likely recognizing neither of them, she points to her prize, "How much for this one?"


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5

As Ekan and Ilya make their way towards the group, Sylvia begins dragging Fulko and Nicat to the pie vendors.

Sylvia Jahlyn wrote:
"Hurry, before the honey ones are all gone!", she shouts at them with great enthusiasm.

"Don't worry! Ilya calls as the group hurries away. "There'll be three left..." he finishes lamely.


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Nicat stares in goggle-eyed confusion at Ilya as he talks of the future as if it's the past. Or is he talking about the past as if it's the future? is passing through the curious halfling's head when Sylvia grabs his hand and begins to pull him bodily toward the pie table. He's quickly caught up in her excitement, skipping along next to her, though not pulling his hand free - it's not every day he's dragged through a festival by a pretty girl - and saying "Good idea, Sylvia! Pie is always a good idea!"

As they get close, he spots the twins at the pie table and tries to recall their names - he's seen them around town most of his life, after all.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14


The woman clad in brown & blue looks up as Sylvia approaches the stall, lightly slapping her opposite number on the shoulder.

"Aneka!" The brown & blue-clad girl says, pointing to Sylvia's approaching group.

"Yes, Arika?" The yellow & white-clad girl looks up, setting a new bunch of pies out. Once she sees Sylvia's group, she straightens up.

"Oh, that one?" Arika looks at the pie Sylvia points out. "Just a couple of silvers. It's worth it, trust me!" She says with a smile.

The other girl, Aneka, looks over at Eostre as she approaches the pie stall. "Hello there! What sort of pie would you be interested in?"

Nicat's Knowledge Roll:
You recognize the twin girls as Arika & Aneka Avertin, from Sandpoint Savories, the town bakery. Their mother, Alma, is nowhere to be seen from what you can tell. It's a bit odd, considering it has been her family business for over two decades.


Sylvia Jahlyn wrote:
she clutches Fulko's arm, pointing to a table not too far away, "Pies!"

"That's a battle I'll gladly join" He replied as he patted his stomach and letting a pleased grin come over his facade.

Nicat Brightluck wrote:
”Hey, look at that, Ekan’s just knocked down a blue-skinned guy! That’s not something I get to see, or say, every day! Let’s go take a look, maybe the blue fellow will buy you a drink if you haul him off the ground.”

"Sorry Nicat but pies and the company of a beautiful woman win over blue men any day, besides he seems to be content by sitting on the ground" Said Fulko to the halfling before turning towards the pie stall and preparing to embark on the quest to satisfy his hunger.

GM_Runecat wrote:

"What, you think you're so better than me? Step on up then. I'll bet you couldn't even hit a cow." It's obvious from his tone that he's challenging Fulko.

"Banny, please, you don't need to be so confrontational." His girlfriend says. She runs a hand through her long brown hair.

"Now why would I do that, lad? Did the sheriff ask to bring that target in? Even if he did you don't seem to be doing too badly" Retorted Fulko before giving a small laugh "Besides why would anyone try to shoot a cow?" A larger laugh escaped his lips.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 Directed at both Banny and the crowd.

Sylvia Jahlyn wrote:
Sylvia starts dragging Fulko and Nicat with her to the pie table. "Hurry, before the honey ones are all gone!", she shouts at them with great enthusiasm. Coming upon the table, she casts a weathered eye on the pies, looking to find the best one before it is sold to the unworthy masses. Looking up to the women, likely recognizing neither of them, she points to her prize, "How much for this one?"

Surprised by the blond woman's strength, Fulko half follows and is half dragged to the pie table. Once there the smell quickly invades his nostrils "Make that two" Said the bounty hunter jovially.


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

All smiles for the twins, Nicat steps up close to the table, his eyes just able to peek over the edge. "Anika, Arika!" he shouts over the clamor, "your pies look yummy as always! But where's your mother? I can't believe she'd miss the festival!"


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Ekan is suddenly in the middle of a crowd of people, everything from an odd blue tinged strangers, to chatty friends, and lovely women with pies. He doesn't cut in line, but he does get in line. He feels a bit uncomfortable in crowds, but tries to blend in.

"Do you have apple pie? I would like one," Ekan says.


Fulko wrote:
"Now why would I do that, lad? Did the sheriff ask to bring that target in? Even if he did you don't seem to be doing too badly" Retorted Fulko before giving a small laugh "Besides why would anyone try to shoot a cow?" A larger laugh escaped his lips.

Fulko's words appear to have smoothed over several ruffled feathers, Banny's especially.

"Hey, you know cows. They give you this look that says 'Go on. Tip me. I'll make sure you live to regret it.'" Banny says, chuckling before firing his last shot.
Archery Shot!: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
...it manages to hit the spot exactly the opposite of the last one.

Banny shrugs his shoulders. "Too bad it wasn't a cow." His girlfriend says, patting him on the back.

"All too right, Kat. All too right." Banny walks off with Kat after returning his bow.
--------------
Pies
As the two girls set more pies out, Aneka looks over at Nicat. Arika is evidently more focused on serving pies.

"Nicat! Nice of you to come by. Mother hasn't been feeling well lately, that's why she didn't come." Aneka says as she produces an apple pie for Ekan. "That'll be two silvers, please!"

Arika mumbles something under her breath.

Perception DC 15:
"Understatement of the year." Is what it sounded like she said.


Female Dwarf Transmuter 5/Cyphermage 1 | HP 44/44 | Physical Enhancement +2 Str; Telekinetic Fist 7/7
Stats:
AC 12, T 12, FF 10; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6; Init +7; Perception +9

"Have you any reefclaw pasties? I haven't had a good one since I left home."

Eostre notices that the people she spied earlier are hustling up to the stall, together with a group of other odd people.

"And here I thought I'd left all the crazy behind me in Riddleport." she says to no one in particular.


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Though he strains to hear it, Nicat can't quite make out what the baker's girl is muttering. "Sorry to hear she's not well, Aneka," he says, "what's she down with, if it's okay to ask?"

---------
After Aneka's Answer:

Nicat hears a voice asking for pies made of sea monsters, and mention of Riddleport, and he can't help but turn to investigate. He's pleased to note that he doesn't have to look up very far, which is quite unusual for so small a halfling, for standing nearby is a unusually short and broad dwarven woman, with bejeweled braids of red hair and an odd, circular tattoo around one eye. "Riddleport? You've been to Riddleport? And you escaped with your life? I've heard there's no more wretched hive of scum and villainy! Did you have fun there?"


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Ekan misses the whisper as he digs about for his two silvers. When he does hand over the coins, he says, "I hope your mother feels better soon."


Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

The clatter of four silver pieces across the wooden table, and the smell of the pies were all Fulko was focusing on at the moment "That should cover Sylvia and myself" Announced the black haired man as he reached for one of the pies and took a massive bite out of it. At once he could feel the sweet flavor of honey, it made him crave another bite, which he took quite readily, one could see that his mouth was already filled up from his expanded cheeks. A swallow later and his eyes refocused on the sisters.

"Honestly I feel like I am robbing you by paying only two silvers, this is the best pie I've had in a while, and I've been to places like Magnimar and Korvosa" Complimented Fulko with a wide grin spread across his face, and pie still in hand.


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric of Shelyn 2 | HP 19/19 | AC 18 T 12 FF 16 | CMD 14 | F +5 R +3 W +7 | Init +7 | Per +3

Savoring each morsel, Sylvia notices Ekan and shouts in triumph, crumbs flying all over. Looking abashed turning red, she starts wiping herself off quickly of the remaining crumbs. Looking back at Ekan, she exclaims, "I told you that you'd enjoy yourself. And look, you're making new friends already!"

Turning to the newcomer, she introduces herself, "Not that Ekan has introduced us, yet, but this is Fulko," she lays her hand on the arm of the large man next to her. "The little one there with the dwarven lass is Nicat. Don't worry, his curiosity is quick to change focus, but I'm sure he'll come back to you!", she says with a grin.

"And I am Sylvia. You should try one of these pies, they are divine!" With that, she goes back to savoring her honey pie, rolling the thick honey around in her mouth before each swallow, eyes closed and sighing in exaggerated ecstasy.


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Taking his own pie, Ekan has to admire just how good it smells.

Quote:
Savoring each morsel, Sylvia notices Ekan and shouts in triumph, crumbs flying all over. Looking abashed turning red, she starts wiping herself off quickly of the remaining crumbs. Looking back at Ekan, she exclaims, "I told you that you'd enjoy yourself. And look, you're making new friends already!"

Even Ekan has to smile just a bit at her enthusiasm, "You were right , I am having a ...pleasant experience. However, this fellow and I have only met. I wouldn't presume friendship upon him."

Quote:

Turning to the newcomer, she introduces herself, "Not that Ekan has introduced us, yet, but this is Fulko," she lays her hand on the arm of the large man next to her. "The little one there with the dwarven lass is Nicat. Don't worry, his curiosity is quick to change focus, but I'm sure he'll come back to you!", she says with a grin.

"And I am Sylvia. You should try one of these pies, they are divine!" With that, she goes back to savoring her honey pie, rolling the thick honey around in her mouth before each swallow, eyes closed and sighing in exaggerated ecstasy.

"Apologies, Sylvia. I should have introduced him right away. This is Ilya ... he seems to know me, but I have never met him that I recall,"

Ekan looks to Ilya, "Please, have some of this apple pie I purchased if you'd like. I really only need a piece or two at most. It will allow me to make amends for my earlier clumsiness."


Aneka ducks behind the counter and comes back with a tray of small, reefclaw-shaped pastries. "They're not made from real reefclaws, but they're still quite good! Two silvers for two pastries." She says.

Arika nods at Ekan and Nicat. "Mother hasn't been the same since Casp..." She sighs and sniffs before straightening up. "She needs her rest today anyway. Thank you."

DC 15 Knowledge (Local):
While its been several years, Alma Avertin never fully recovered from the grief of her son dying by the Chopper, a notorious serial killer.


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Nicat winces in regret for his slip, saying, "Arika, I'm so sorry. Of course she has cause to rest, poor woman. Give her best wishes from me and my family, won't you?"

Turning to the motley lot of pie-eating companions he's ended up with, he waves a hand and says, "Come on, folks, let's look around some more! And let the girls get back to selling pies instead of chatting with us while we spill crumbs." This last is said with a wink to Sylvia, as he pretends to brush off a sprinkling of imaginary crumbs that she's missed.

As they move away from the pie stand, Nicat says quietly, "Well, that was thoughtless of me. You see, the girls' mother, Alma Avertin, lost her son to the Chopper, a madman who killed more than a few people around Sandpoint. She's never really recovered from it, the grief of losing her son." Nicat's regret over any hurt feelings he may have caused is intensified when he realizes that he also failed to get any pie while he chatted. Fortunately, his attention span is blissfully short, and he's diverted by the sight of another interesting display of wares nearby.

"Look, it's the glassworks table!" he calls out, pointing eagerly. "They make the most amazing things there, let's go take a look!"


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Ekan gives a sympathetic look to Arika, "This cannot be easy for you and your sister either. Is there anything I can do to help? Perhaps there is some labor that needs doing at the house later? I cannot cure, but I can perhaps ease your burdens."

Oops, looks like Nicat and I posted at the same time. Well, Ekan would still offer.

However the young ladies respond, Ekan finds himself pulled away by Nicat. The monk raises a curious eyebrow and waits for the halfling to explain.

Quote:

As they move away from the pie stand, Nicat says quietly, "Well, that was thoughtless of me. You see, the girls' mother, Alma Avertin, lost her son to the Chopper, a madman who killed more than a few people around Sandpoint. She's never really recovered from it, the grief of losing her son." Nicat's regret over any hurt feelings he may have caused is intensified when he realizes that he also failed to get any pie while he chatted. Fortunately, his attention span is blissfully short, and he's diverted by the sight of another interesting display of wares nearby.

"Look, it's the glassworks table!" he calls out, pointing eagerly. "They make the most amazing things there, let's go take a look!"

Ekan frowns with sympathy not looking at the glasswork, but back at the pie stall, "We Waterfields know what it is to lose those who are dearest to us. Those young women should not have to bear the burdens alone."


So I was right, there are killers who think they're smart by coming to a peaceful town instead of going to places like Riddleport or Korvosa Fulko left hand ran through his stubble as he gave the matter some more thought, he then realized he was looking directly at Ilya "Oh the blue man Nicat spoke about" He extended his hand to shake the hand of the stranger "Sylvia already introduced me...Ilya, right?"


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5
Sylvia Jahlyn wrote:
Turning to the newcomer, she introduces herself, "Not that Ekan has introduced us, yet, but this is Fulko," she lays her hand on the arm of the large man next to her. "The little one there with the dwarven lass is Nicat. Don't worry, his curiosity is quick to change focus, but I'm sure he'll come back to you!", she says with a grin.

"Ekan didn't introduce us? Then I suppose you did, or rather you are, or at least you will. In any case you will have eventually, so it all leads to the same thing." As Ilya spoke, he pointed to the spot where he and Ekan collided, and then traced a trail along the path he walked almost as if describing the brief journey to the pie table. His finger kept traveling, and finally landed on the glassworks table just as Nicat bounded off in that direction.

"My name is Ilya, or Ilya Oftwrong if you prefer. Did I already say that?"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Quote:
Arika mumbles something under her breath. "Understatement of the year."

Ilya turned to the lady, about to respond, but the conversation carried forward as if nobody else had heard. He was accustomed to hearing things that others did not, though, and simply waited patiently for the conversation the catch up to him.

Quote:
Arika nods at Ekan and Nicat. "Mother hasn't been the same since Casp..." She sighs and sniffs before straightening up. "She needs her rest today anyway. Thank you."
Nicat Brightluck wrote:
"Well, that was thoughtless of me. You see, the girls' mother, Alma Avertin, lost her son to the Chopper, a madman who killed more than a few people around Sandpoint. She's never really recovered from it, the grief of losing her son."

"Do not despair, dear ladies. I know better than most how difficult it is to untangle one's past from one's future. But, you can always find the path eventually." Ilya pauses for a moment as the others begin to gather their purchases and move on. "This madman, this Chopper... Is he still at large?" Diplomacy (gather information): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16


"No, the Chopper was killed a long time ago. He resisted arrest, killing the old sheriff. Hemlock was the man who stepped up as the new sheriff afterwards." Arika says to Ilya.

There doesn't appear to be anyone at the glassworks stall yet. There's a curtain in the back, and a shadow can be seen moving around under it.


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

"Hmm, that's funny," says Nicat, eager curiosity in his voice, "the glassworks stall isn't open yet...I wonder if we can sneak a peek..." He holds up a finger to his companions, and says, "Hold on, I'm going to take a quick look behind that curtain, wouldn't do for all of us to be seen peeking, eh?"

He creeps up to the stall as quietly as a butterfly flitting past on the wind, ducks down low, and peers up under the curtain, to avoid opening it and giving himself away.

Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27


Just Another Glassworker... Right? A Bitter, Jaded Murderer

GM Rolls:
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Nicat doesn't appear to have drawn attention upon himself.

Nicat:
Peeking underneath the curtain, you can see a man of mixed Tian & elven descent clad in a black vest, white shirt, green leggings & brown boots, with his brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail. He's busily looking through a box.

"Hmm... I hope none of these are broken..."

After a bit, he nods and closes the box again, taking it in both hands and starting back towards the curtain.


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5
Ekan Waterfield wrote:
Quote:
Looking back at Ekan, she exclaims, "I told you that you'd enjoy yourself. And look, you're making new friends already!"
Even Ekan has to smile just a bit at her enthusiasm, "You were right , I am having a ...pleasant experience. However, this fellow and I have only met. I wouldn't presume friendship upon him."

"No, don't presume. That never works out quite right. I suppose we could wait and see if it comes to pass. But, that often takes quite a while. Alas, I can never see that far afield, and when I do I never see quite enough, you know? And it never really works out the way I think it will, anyway. Isn't that why they called me Oftwrong?"

Fulko wrote:
"Oh the blue man Nicat spoke about" He extended his hand to shake the hand of the stranger "Sylvia already introduced me...Ilya, right?"

Ilya returned the handshake, quailing a bit at the strength of the man's grip. He spends a few seconds thinking, and once again retraced his steps from his initial collision with Ekan. "Why... yes! Yes, she did," he lays the lightest stress on the word 'did', as though the past tense of the word matters greatly. "I am Ilya, as she said. It is a great pleasure to meet you!"


Male Human Monk-6 (HP: 49/56; AC 19, 18t, 16ff; F+7,R+7,W+8)

Ekan makes a mental note to do some yardwork or the like for the family later.

Quote:

"Hmm, that's funny," says Nicat, eager curiosity in his voice, "the glassworks stall isn't open yet...I wonder if we can sneak a peek..." He holds up a finger to his companions, and says, "Hold on, I'm going to take a quick look behind that curtain, wouldn't do for all of us to be seen peeking, eh?"

"Ah, Nicat...that may not be.." But his friend has vanished. "It always troubles me when he does that. He's a good soul, but someone might mistake him for up to no good one day."

Quote:
"No, don't presume. That never works out quite right. I suppose we could wait and see if it comes to pass. But, that often takes quite a while. Alas, I can never see that far afield, and when I do I never see quite enough, you know? And it never really works out the way I think it will, anyway. Isn't that why they called me Oftwrong?"

"I would't know," Ekan says honestly, "But I am told that knowing one's limitations is the first step on the path to surpassing them."


M Halfling Bard 6 | HP 50 | AC 22 | T 16 | FF 17 | CMD 19 | Fort +4 | Ref +11 | Will +6 (+2 vs fear) | Init +5 | Perc +12

Behind the Curtain:

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

Nicat thinks for a moment about whether he recognizes the man in the stall, which is made somewhat challenging by the fact that he's studying him with his head tipped sideways to look under the curtain. He then notices the man approaching...

Nicat takes a few quick, quiet steps away from the curtain, then says in his clear performer's voice, "Oh, drat! It looks like the glassworks stall isn't open yet! I wonder when we'll get to see all their amazing, quality items of glass..." He winds down as he realizes he's laying it on a bit thick, and waits for the person inside the stall to step out.


Just Another Glassworker... Right? A Bitter, Jaded Murderer

Nicat's Knowledge Roll:
You recognize the man as Tsuto Kaijitsu, Ameiko Kaijitsu's half-brother. He hasn't been seen in Sandpoint since his father all but disowned him; it's a touchy subject for both him and his half-sister. The Sandpoint Glassworks has long been the Kaijitsu family trade... perhaps this is a sign that things are starting to get better for him.
"Yeah, yeah, hold on a minute, these things are very breakable!" The man says, walking through the curtain and setting a box down next to the counter.

"So, what are you interested in buying?" He curtly asks, setting out several glass figurines on the counter. Several of them are unmistakably Tian in design, with a couple of them resembling long, serpent-like creatures with exotic heads.


Male Samsaran Foresight Diviner 1
Stats:
HP 9/9 | AC 13, T 13, FF 10 | CMD 11 | F +1, R +3, W +2 | Init +8 | Perception +5

"How remarkable!" Ilya picks up one of the items on display. "I've always liked glass. Solid, impenetrable, yet transparent. Kind of like time, wouldn't you say?" he muses as he holds the sculpture up to his eye.

"Do you make these yourself?"


Female Dwarf Transmuter 5/Cyphermage 1 | HP 44/44 | Physical Enhancement +2 Str; Telekinetic Fist 7/7
Stats:
AC 12, T 12, FF 10; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6; Init +7; Perception +9
Nicat Brightluck wrote:
Nicat hears a voice asking for pies made of sea monsters, and mention of Riddleport, and he can't help but turn to investigate. He's pleased to note that he doesn't have to look up very far, which is quite unusual for so small a halfling, for standing nearby is a unusually short and broad dwarven woman, with bejeweled braids of red hair and an odd, circular tattoo around one eye. "Riddleport? You've been to Riddleport? And you escaped with your life? I've heard there's no more wretched hive of scum and villainy! Did you have fun there?"

"I grew up there. And you've heard right." she manages before he starts chattering about.

"PASTIES, not pastries. Ya know, little meat pie? Thought they were a hit in places like Korvosa and Magnimar. Never mind." She plinks a gold sail down on the counter. "I'll take your biggest and best."

When the conversation turns to serial killers and other strangeness, Eostre listens and lets out an exasperated snort.

"What was that peck thinking, just casually mentioning it? That had to dredge up bad memories. Name's Eostre, by the way. Eostre Roldheim of the Lodge of Cyphers."

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