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DM_MadGoat's Untitled Campaign

Game Master DM_MadGoat



The first day of autumn dawns red over the town of Sandpoint, though it is little remarked upon, save by the most superstitious of local wags. And how could there be any ill omens on this day - today is the Swallowtail festival! The long awaited dedication of the new cathedral has been the talk of the town for months. And a grand edifice it is - shrines to the four major dieties worshipped locally, plus smaller shrines to other goodly religions, with spires that reach to the heavens, remarkable and durable stonework, and beautiful stained glass windows that illustrate the precepts of each religion.

Church street and the square in front of the cathedral are thick with residents, visitors, merchants, entertainers and more, all awaiting the beginning of the festivities. The excitement is thick in the air, along with the scent of exotic foreign foods and the perfumes of the noble ladies.

Your party appears, without flash or fanfare, in a narrow alley off of High Street. You hear the murmur of the assembling crowd in the vicinity of the cathedral. All your wounds are healed, spells and other consumables restored. The day is yours, adventurers! What would you like to do first?


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"Have the opening speeches been delivered yet? If they have, let's go sample the foods. All the eateries of the town have put out their best today, and I for one could go for some food."


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 blinks in the light, wondering if that hall of goats had just been a daydream, before looking at the painting she was still holding. Perhaps not. I shouldn't dwell on it. Looking at the others, she politely departed with them, heading towards the Cathedral to join the rest of the crowd - although she knows that she sticks out among the residents.

After the opening speeches, Scoria will go and look for an appraiser for the painting and frame - and after that, she'll take a look at the festival activities and games she might be able to play.


Male Elf Archivist 1; HP 8/8; AC 16/12/14; F+0 R+4 W+1; Init +2; Per. +5

"Ah yes, food would be splendid after that little...well, whatever that was. Most curious. Do you have any particular local delicacies I might sample?"


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1
Brevyre Silverkin wrote:
"Have the opening speeches been delivered yet? If they have, let's go sample the foods. All the eateries of the town have put out their best today, and I for one could go for some food."

Me too, I've a fierce hunger. Maybe a haunch of goat, a mug of ale...


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"We can stop fixating on the goats now. Anything here should be delectable, you cannot go wrong with any of it."


"So wait. Your not all just characters within my dreams of adventuring?" Calkin asks curiously, "Well I guess it wouldn't be the strangest thing this world has ever seen."

Calkin then gleefully moves towards the festivities hoping to get himself some food, as he is starving after his first fight with something more than sewer rats.


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

"Don't go with 'Uncle Nunci's Fried Bits' though. Unless you love feeling terrible."


It is still fairly early, so the welcoming speeches have yet to be given. That hasn't stopped the crowd for getting lively and large, however - the whole day is going to be one huge party!

As you approach the crowd, you see Sheriff Hemlock talking to a couple members of the Militia. He turns, seeing first Grigore and Brevyre, and gives a nod of acknowledgement. He then sees Digger, and his face turns dour. He walks up to your group and sizes you up. Interesting company you're keeping, Grigore! And Brevyre, too, I see! Who are your new friends?

@ Scoria: A young human child - no more than five or six years old, you'd guess - walks up to you with wide eyes. Are you a golem? he asks, looking you up and down and reaching out to touch your skin. Seeing the painting, he asks What's that? Eewww, gross! That's a yucky thing to paint!

@ Digger:

Spoiler:
You see a familiar face among the crowd - a young, raven haired girl you know only as Trixie. You've run into her a few times - or, rather, she's run into you, and countless others, trying to cut their purse strings and empty their pockets. She seems to be trying to keep a low profile, and today would be perfect for someone of her unique talents to ply their trade.


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"Some companions I met at the tavern last night. I'mm showing them around the festival. Well, those that need it. Shooting a quick glance at Digger and Grigore


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

GM:
Digger will keep an eye on her and wink if she catches him.


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1

Grigore waves in greeting, motioning to his companions in turn.

Morning, Sheriff. This is Scoria, Calkin, Thorjar, and Erynion. Travelers, revelers, seekers of knowledge and adventure. So Sheriff, what food looks good today?


Male Elf Archivist 1; HP 8/8; AC 16/12/14; F+0 R+4 W+1; Init +2; Per. +5

"You are the constable of this fine town, sir? It's a pleasure to meet you.


Sheriff Hemlock shakes Erynion's hand. Welcome, sir, you've arrived in our little town in it's finest hour. Enjoy the festival!

Turning again to Grigore, Hemlock says Grigore, I know you've had this day booked off forever, and I don't begrudge you your time off, but if you can, keep your eyes open for trouble, okay? He says this while looking pointedly at Digger.

The sheriff is about to walk away when he notices Scoria. Hello, Scoria! Thanks to you and your fellow craftsmen, our town rises like a phoenix from the..... He cuts off when he sees the painting you are carrying. He seems about to say something, then claps his mouth shut and walks away briskly, shaking his head.


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1
DM_MadGoat wrote:

Sheriff Hemlock shakes Erynion's hand. Welcome, sir, you've arrived in our little town in it's finest hour. Enjoy the festival!

Turning again to Grigore, Hemlock says Grigore, I know you've had this day booked off forever, and I don't begrudge you your time off, but if you can, keep your eyes open for trouble, okay? He says this while looking pointedly at Digger.

The sheriff is about to walk away when he notices Scoria. Hello, Scoria! Thanks to you and your fellow craftsmen, our town rises like a phoenix from the..... He cuts off when he sees the painting you are carrying. He seems about to say something, then claps his mouth shut and walks away briskly, shaking his head.

Grigore's face hardens as he answers seriously.

Sure thing, Sheriff. Anyone fool enough to cause trouble in my vicinity will wish they hadn't.

Then he smiles, so as not to put off the newcomers. But what could go wrong? Everyone is just here to have a good time. Make sure you take some time to enjoy yourself too, Sheriff. This town won't see the like of a similar festival for quite some time.


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 blinks slowly as she looks down at the child. Her skin has the texture of smooth marble - only it yields softly to the touch, like real flesh. "I am no golem. I am an oread, a descendant of earth elementals," She tells him, before looking at the painting he found disgusting. "It is art. Perhaps a bit tasteless, but someone put the time and effort to create it. That gives it value, even if it's only the cost of the materials used to make it." She felt a bit odd having to explain the value of art to a child - really, just talking to children was something she wasn't very comfortable about.

Looking up at the sheriff, Scoria nods at him. "Would you know an appraiser of paintings I might take this to?" She asks him before he can walk away.


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

"Sheriff! It is SO GREAT to see you! How's the wife?"


@ Scoria: The sheriff looks at the painting again for a moment, then replies: There's a few places which might have interest in that ... work of art. The feathered serpent, down on Rum street, might be the first place I'd try - Voon is often interested in the stranger items people bring him. Maybe Ven's general store, just off water street? If that fails, maybe one of the inns would take it as a dartboard or something, or try your luck on one of the market days. Hells, with all the merchants coming for the festival, you might as well see if anyone at the bazaar in the cathedral square would want it.

@ Digger: Hemlocks eyes narrow a bit as he replies: Not married, Digger, for the thousandth time. Oh, how are the folks? Give them my thanks for raising such an upstanding fellow.

It looks like the mayor is approaching the podium for what will no doubt be a rousing speech!


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"Always nice to talk to you sheriff."


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 nods at the advice. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll look into that after the speeches," She tells him, letting him be on his way as she goes and joins the rest of the crowd, glancing at the other members of the ragtag group from that fever dream world. "...I would not be disappointed if any of you cared to join me."


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1

Yep, let's go. Stick with me and I'll see if I can use my "official" position to get us close to the stage. C'mon, people!

Grigore stands tall and starts walking through the crowd, trying to navigate a path to the stage without disturbing too many people.


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"I could get us inside the cathedral if we really wanted to. But let us enjoy the speeches first shall we?"


Calkin finishes a joke he was telling one of the children attending the festival, about a horse, a priest, and a goblin, just as the mayor reaches the podium. "Enough jokes for now, lets listen to what has to be said" Calkin then grabs a piece of fancy food and takes a bite out of it.

Realizing that his short nature makes it difficult for him to see the mayor from here he attempts to move closer by ducking and maneuvering through the crowd.


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

"Know why he isn't married?"


Sorry guys, had a little family emergency yesterday afternoon.Will be back home later today and post. apologies again!


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1
DM_MadGoat wrote:
Sorry guys, had a little family emergency yesterday afternoon.Will be back home later today and post. apologies again!

No worries, take your time. I hope everything is ok. We understand, and we'll be ready when you are. On the family emergency front--my wife is 37 weeks pregnant. If I vanish for a day or two, you know why. ;-)


Dwarf, Paladin of Erastil (1)

Thorjar has been silently taking everything in. That horrific painting still bothers him. But it's someone else's problem now.


The crowd has gathered around the raised dias to hear the welcoming speeches. First up is the mayor, Kendra Deverin, a petite brunette in her early thirties whose presence belies her small size. The crowd first hushes as she addresses them, welcoming citizens and visitors alike to Sandpoint on this important and momentous day. The crowd laughs and claps at the appropriate points, getting caught up in the mayors enthusiasm and energy, and ends with a great cheer as she ends her speech.

Next up is sheriff Hemlock, who succeeds in bringing the energy of the crowd down to disgruntled silence as he reminds everyone to stay safe, keep an eye on their purses and in particular to PLEASE be careful around the planned bonfire that night. The whole square joins him in a moment of silence for the victims of the fire that destroyed Sandpoint's original cathedral five years ago, however, and Hemlock leaves the stage to respectful applause from the crowd.

Cyrak Drokkus, owner and director of the Sandpoint Theatre, is next to take to the dias, which he treats as a stage as he delivers an entertaining monologue regarding his part in the financing and construction of the new cathedral. He throws in a plug for his upcoming show - apparently featuring the lovely and talented Magnimarian actress Allishandra. He ends by inviting all to visit his theatre and see the show.

Last up is Father Zantus, a bearded, middle aged man who exudes warmth and peace. His friendly, down to earth manner pleases the crowd, as does the brevity of his speech, which ends with a declaration that the Swallowtail festival has officially begun!

It's a couple of hours until noon, when the actual swallowtail release happens. Several vendors have set up, hawking their wares in the town square. Local and visiting chefs are preparing lunch - which is free to all - and some are selling breakfast as well. Several performers have begun - a juggler, several acrobats, a couple of singers and several dancers - most notably, a lovely young redhead has attracted a great deal of attention, dancing sensually and accompanied only by the measured beat of her finger cymbals. A small circle has formed around a bareknuckles boxing match, pitting a large, black-haired ulfen woman against a smaller Varisian local man named Pratus, known around town for his quick fists and acerbic sense of humour. Pratus' husband is the loudest of the gathered onlookers, cheering loudly for his man and wincing visibly when he takes a blow.

You've got a couple of hours to kill before the noontime swallowtail release - and the free food!


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 watches and listens to the speeches, trying her best not to be perturbed by all of the townsfolk that keep glancing at the painting she is carrying with undisguised contempt. She ignores it for the most part - the oread is used to attention, this was just an entirely different kind.

As it was, after Father Zantus announced the beginning of the festival, Scoria set off to the bazaar with the painting in hand - those acquaintances were probably right that someone would only pay for the frame, but she could understand that. She just kept searching, looking for someone that would offer her a fair price for it.

Once she got it off of her hands, she would probably get herself something to eat - she wondered if they were giving out rock candy. She did rather enjoy that kind of treat.


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1

Grigore appreciates the delivery and respect commanded of the speeches. It's not easy to address a crowd of the size, he thinks. As the entertainment begins, he watches the red-haired dancer with interest for a moment, until he sees a portion of the crowd circling around something, spectators jostling to get a better view.

Looks like a fight's brewing, he says to himself as much as the others. He hurries over, bulling through to see what's happening, eventually standing next to Pratus' husband. He shouts over the din, only half-turning to the concerned husband so he can watch all of the fight. Looks like your boy may have bit off more than he can chew. But he's quick, and I'll take quickness over strength any day. Grigore slaps the man on the back, intending to be reassuring, while signalling to whomever the bookie is that is taking bets. He pulls out a silver piece and throws it to the bookie, pointing at Pratus.


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

Brevyre walks towards Father Zanthus after his speech. "Hello Father Zanthus. Excellent speech today. Are you ready for your duties to start up again?"


@ Grigore: Pratus' husband (a fit man in his early 30's named Brighton) winks knowingly at you. He's just toying with her, Grigore. They've been going for ten minutes and he hasn't even worked up a sweat. Ulfen brute! True to Brighton's words, Pratus looks fresh and virtually unscathed, while the Ulfen woman gasps for air, clearly favoring the right side of her torso, no doubt sporting a fractured rib or two. Just as your coin reaches the bookie's hand, Pratus ducks a vicious roundhouse blow and counters with a thundering uppercut which takes the huge foreigner off her feet and down to the ground, where she stays for several minutes.

There's a murmur of surprise from some, scattered applause from others. A disgruntled man next to you, obviously having bet on the wrong side, shakes his head sadly and says quietly to his friend That's NOT supposed to happen in Golarion!

Pratus spies you in the crowd and greets you with a handshake. Grigore! Good to see you! Maybe this one has a sister you'd like to fight? The Ulfen woman is being helped to her feet by two of her countrymen, who are looking darkly at Pratus. You made two silver on the fight, as well!

@ Brevyre: Father Zanthus greets you warmly. Hello, Brevyre! It's good to see you, especially today. Yes, I am ready to fulfill all my duties, as must all who serve their Gods Looking around for a moment, he leans in closer. Brevyre, though I say nothing to these others, I feel an ill intent in the wind today, and my dreams last night were not of peace, but they were dark, dreams of blood and trials. You are known for your strong sword arm and ceaseless vigilance, young friend, so I must ask of you a favour: stay vigilant today, and warn your bretheren to stay alert. While the town guard grows lax with the festivities, my heart darkens further. With that he claps you on the shoulder and walks calmly towards the cathedral; no doubt yet more preparations lay ahead for the swallowtail release.

@ Scoria: Even without the painting, you draw much attention from the locals, in particular the children, who seem fascinated with the look of your skin and the crystals embedded in you.

Scoria:
You find an older Osirian merchant who seems interested in the painting. His eyes open wide when he sees it. Where did you get this? It is horrible, yet ..... fascinating! I feel like I could stare at it for hours! I must have it! I offer you 50 gold for this .... fascinating work of art!

@ Digger:

Spoiler:
You notice Trixie subtly subtly reach into the lovely redheaded dancers bowl and remove several coins which have been tossed in by the appreciative audience. Seeing you, she freezes for a moment, before a sly smile dances on her lips. She blows you a kiss and tries to disappear into the crowd.


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 does her best not to feel unnerved by all of the children flocking around her, reaching out to touch the crystals embedded in her body. They were merely curious, after all. She did warn them about trying to put crystals into their own skin - only an oread could do it to themselves safely.

She is quite happy to find the Osirian merchant willing to take the painting off of her, selling it for the offered 50 gold pieces, adding them to her purse before setting off to attend to the rest of the festival, getting herself something to nibble on before looking for some decent activities - perhaps some kind of game that she could play to pass the time.


@ Scoria: the merchant is overjoyed, stating I shall be a man who stares at this goat for hours. Oh joy! He then disappears into the crowd, leaving his disgruntled assistant to man the stall.

You catch sight of Aesrick Battlehorn, head of the local carpenter's guild, who waves as he sees you. The old dwarf has no head for stone (quite rare amongst his people) but his crew's wooden scaffolds and support beams made your stonework possible.


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 walks over to the dwarven man, nodding at him as she stops in front of him. She was particularly surprised to learn that such an hardworking dwarf couldn't tell the different between granite and limestone, but otherwise enjoyed his company - at least he had a eye for building things if not from stone.

Dwarven:
"Are you enjoying the festival so far? It seems to me that the Cathedral is not getting as much attention as all of the other activities - a shame, but I think that humans have a tendency to enjoy more fleeting things since they have such short lifespans. I do admit that I would enjoy playing a game or two - it has been ages since I last played a game of strength or finesse."


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1
DM_MadGoat wrote:

@ Grigore: Pratus' husband (a fit man in his early 30's named Brighton) winks knowingly at you. He's just toying with her, Grigore. They've been going for ten minutes and he hasn't even worked up a sweat. Ulfen brute! True to Brighton's words, Pratus looks fresh and virtually unscathed, while the Ulfen woman gasps for air, clearly favoring the right side of her torso, no doubt sporting a fractured rib or two. Just as your coin reaches the bookie's hand, Pratus ducks a vicious roundhouse blow and counters with a thundering uppercut which takes the huge foreigner off her feet and down to the ground, where she stays for several minutes.

There's a murmur of surprise from some, scattered applause from others. A disgruntled man next to you, obviously having bet on the wrong side, shakes his head sadly and says quietly to his friend That's NOT supposed to happen in Golarion!

Pratus spies you in the crowd and greets you with a handshake. Grigore! Good to see you! Maybe this one has a sister you'd like to fight? The Ulfen woman is being helped to her feet by two of her countrymen, who are looking darkly at Pratus. You made two silver on the fight, as well!

Sweet! Cash money! ;-)

Well fought, Pratus! If that one has a sister who wants to face me in a beauty contest, well, sign me up and I'll shave my beard. As for fighting--I'm trying to be on my best behavior today, you know, an example to the other citizens and all on account of the festival.

Grigore seems mildly disappointed that he doesn't get to fight an Ulfen woman, but the moment passes and he's smiling again.

That last punch won me some good silver, so let's have a brew, shall we? First round's on me...


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric of Iomedae 1

"Well do father." He walks off to look for the others, and finds Grigore. "No fights today Grigore, you promised."


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

"Really, I just feel bad for the sheriff. It must not be easy being sexually attracted to young kobolds." bluff: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31


Calkin wanders around the festival viewing all of the different forms of entertainment. The dancing, the singing, the fighting, everything interests him and his wanderlust, seeing what the world has brought for this glorious day.


Male Elf Archivist 1; HP 8/8; AC 16/12/14; F+0 R+4 W+1; Init +2; Per. +5

Erynion wanders through the festival as well, greeting his friends as he encounters them, and seeing the sights, taking in the spectacle, and attempting to finagle sample tastes of the local breakfasts. He pays particular attention to any merchant stalls selling eclectic varieties of wares. He notices Grigore watching the fight between Pirates and the Ulfen woman and sides over. "Grigore, surely one small bout would not be out of line! I might even have to write a song to country the old Ulfen one I learned, if this one doesn't end with 'Terrible Grigore, buried under Hilda the Hill.'"


Human Fighter (Brawler/Gladiator)/ 1

Hey, a song is a song. In Riddleport we have a saying--'The only thing better than fame is infamy'. I hate to disappoint my fans, but I'm afraid a fight will have to wait for another day.

Grigore bows in mock sadness to his "audience".


Dwarf, Paladin of Erastil (1)

Thorjar wanders the festival aimlessly. Though he starts where the most attention is, he begins to visit specific areas (such as the docks, the Cathedral, and the fringes of the city) to see how the festival is celebrated there; if at all.


M Human (multi-ethnic) Rogue Charlatan 6

Digger looks for a place with lots of people.

[spoiler=DM]He keeps an eye open for the pretty little thief as well.[/b]

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