Here is the opening of the gameplay thread. I will be posting each person's hook that they've reviewed and also a next generic opening sequence. After that the action is yours. Hooks will be up in a few.
Yet here he stood, in the long line of travelers, entertainers, and merchants crowding into town for the Festival of Desna, Goddess of Wanderers and Patron of Varisians. The line stretched out the gate north of town and along the road winding back around the bend as far as one could see. And the line moved slowly. Gudada found his mind returning again and again to the Sandpoint of his youth. A bitter angry father, a defeated and demoralized mother and a meek childhood barely scratching out an existence in a town he barely remembered, and which certainly wouldn’t remember him.
Over the wall, he could see the ruin of the old lighthouse on the coast, and the spire, with angelic butterfly adorning it, of the new Cathedral. He had heard along the road this festival was to dedicate the new church after the old one had burned. He didn’t go in much for religion but the festival certainly gave a world-wise and nimble fingered fellow plenty of opportunities to fatten his purse.
In fact ,the large Shoanti baker in front of him pushing the hand cart had several coins dangling heavy in a purse that presented more and more of an opportunity the longer he waited in this interminable line.
Finally the line started moving forward again, the pieman heaving on his laden cart. Gudada stepped into the shadows of the gate wall and noticed the 2 guards both leaning on their spears looking the bored stiff.
Openly smiling at the situation, 'Dada began working the day-long misdirection required to acquire as much as reasonable. "Pardon, friend baker, but would you have a few fruit pies for the nearby children to share? I have a silver here to get the temptation started, if you are willing, of course."
He stood in the line of merchants, tradesmen, and revelers all waiting to enter the town’s Northgate. Ahead of him a sole, brightly clad Varisian stood clearly contemplating something heavy by the sighs he produced. But all around gaiety reigned. There were jugglers and tumblers, dancers and pipers. All wearing the bright colors of Varisia; maybe they weren't gnomes, but they loved fun, and that meant he was among his people.
This was going to be some party, and Beagan meant to be right in the center of it. ”I just need my chance to shine!” he thought. ”And then they’ll see.”
He had thought a quick trip into Sandpoint to get supplies and his gear mended would be just the thing and he’d be back out on the road in no time. But he hadn’t counted on every longshanks merchant and fool coming into Sandpoint for the dedication of some butterfly goddess. He didn’t have time for that nonsense, he was out to find his own monster to slay and keep up the family name.
Honor and duty, these were like blood and breath to Dolgrinn. The thought of killing his own beast and bringing honor to his family consumed him. Certainly no time for a party like the one going on around him. Just ahead of him was a gnome fellow with his flaming red hair also clearly out of place with all the dancing and singing and foolishness going on around him.
”Just clear a path to the market,” he grumbled again as the line began to slowly push him towards the wall. ”Wall, ha, a little gust of wind’d likely blow that down. Looks like they need a good dwarf 'round here."
Now, in the queue to enter the town, she marveled at all the sight and smells. Turns out this was going to be some party after all. Singers, dancers, and jugglers all plied their craft as the line into town slowly crawled forward. Ahead she saw a dusty old dwarf stomping into town and near him a petite little fellow with flaming red hair.
The westering sun outlined the strange fallen tower near the coast line and the late summer day had the promise of fall about it as the line finally started to move forward again. Viviana was happy to see the gate approaching, a few guards lazing nearby. Just on the other side was the Cathedral and the Festival and she couldn’t wait to see both.
31 Arodus, Last Day of Summer, 4707 Absalom Reckoning (*)
As one approaches the town of Sandpoint, the footprint of civilization upon the Lost Coast grows more clear. Farmlands in the outlying moors and river valleys grow more numerous and more fishnig vessels are seen in the waters of the Varisian Gulf to the West. The road widens - just as it chokes with a motley assortment of Varisians, Shoanti, and Chelish headed to the Festival of Desna - and passages over river crossings become accomplished by wooden bridge rather than ford. The Lost Coast Road is nearing Sandpoint!
Sight of Sandpoint is kept hidden by lightly forested hilltops and rocky outcroppings that rise just east of town, but as the final bend is rounded, smoking chimneys and bustling streets greet travlers with open arms. The queue of folks lined up to enter town stretches back well away from the gate.
A low stone wall gives the town a bit of protection, as the road passes through the stone gatehouse, there are two bored looking guards at post, neither of which looks like they'd be much help in a real fight. The guards lean against their blunt spears, yawning, barely noticing, as the procession of festival-goers enters the town in slow single file.
As you approach the gate-house you see, hanging from a bent nail, a sign, and a mirror --painted on the sign is this message: "Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!"
(*)= See discussion tab for a note on campaign dates.
Viviana sighed and spend a few moments in thoughts about warm bath , nice meal and soft bed.
Traveling without servants suddenly does not seem such good idea when you have to carry you own bag .
Waiting for the line to move, Viviana curiously looked at the colorful crowd around her,feeling slightly out of place in her practical but dull traveling outfit.
Then, the line finaly started to move again. Her eyes fixed at the gate, Viviana saw little figure with impossibly red hair and she couldn't help but smile.
Gnome! Varisians may have their reputation ,but in her mind the gnomes were the best entertainers ever.
Just before the gate she glimpsed herself in the mirror: Dark hair,bronze skin, both dirty from the road and amber eyes full of untold pain and sadness.
"Am i really that tired !?" she thought shocked.
Then she noticed that the necklace with her holy symbol was gone.
She looked at her chest ,the necklace was there after all.
Confused Viviana turned her gaze to the mirror again ,and saw only her normal ,slightly confused image,the pain from her eyes-gone the necklace-clearly visible.
"I really need some rest" she told herself and entered into the town.
The young Varisian glances at the mirror, his dark complexion and black hair off-setting the reds, yellows and oranges of his bandanna and vest, the near white natural color of his shirt increasing the contrast and vibrancy of the colors. Stopping for a moment, just as he seems to be passing the mirror, he leans back and grins into it, his eyes sparkling with life. A young man, apparently loving life and with no concerns in the world grins back at him before he turns slightly to use the mirror to look into the eyes of a woman behind him in line. "Come! It is time to celebrate! Time to dance, to sing, to drink, and to throw many things around in the air at the same time!" He winks at her, and continues through the gate, looking for someplace where he should be able to set up a make-shift stage to earn a few coins while he watches the crowd to find his prey.
A hunter has entered his domain.
Well, well... Look at that handsome fellow.
Beagan spends more time than anyone likely should in front of the mirror. He realizes that it has been quite some time since he's glanced at his own reflection. Months, perhaps? Maybe even a year by now. His time in Korvosa hasn't been particularly kind and exciting, despite his best (and sometimes selfish) efforts. But, as far as he can tell, he still has his charm and, most importantly, his fiery red hair.
What better way to introduce myself to the people of Sandpoint than through a festival, where everyone is likely to be liquored up past reasonable levels? Myself included, hopefully! Ah, these people are going to love me. I just know it.
As the gnome casually strolls into town, taking in the wonderful sights and smells, he keeps an eye out for Cyrdak in an effort to discuss performing at the local theater. However, Beagan quickly realizes that he has no idea what the theater owner even looks like, and thus begins slowly eavesdropping on conversations throughout the festival to hopefully find his man.
As you enter the town facing basically southwest, into the slowly setting summer sun, the amazing new structure of the cathederal looms on your left. Built from white limestone and beautiful stained glass, instead of the usual simple wood structure, it towers above the town. The high spire is topped with an angelic butterfly, the symbol of the Varisian patron goddess, Desna the Dreamer. The cathedral radiates a feeling of awe and beauty to all who survey it, quite a contrast to the wildnerness outside the wall.
On the ground, everything is the bustle of activity. Booths being built, stalls being stocked with inventory, colorfully clad folks scampering here and there uproariously. Along the road, scantily clad girls pass out bills for someplace called The Pixie's Kitten and gesture lewdly to the men and boys who pass. A surly half orc in a red tabard pushs a cart along behind picking up the discarded waste. A troupe of Varisians scamper through the crowd, laughing and dancing wildly to music only they can hear. It is truly a madhouse.
To your right along the road is what appears to be a well kept tavern or inn, two rearing stags (their forehooves and antlers touching to form an arched gateway)carved from white birch rise at least 10 ft from the ground, framing the entryway to this place. The same white birch fence surrounds the yard which is filled with travelers. The open air veranda of the Inn is also full to bursting with travelers of all shapes and sizes.
A large Shoanti man, his face covered with tattoo marks, and wearing the traditional buckskin garb of his folk, nails a sign to the entry. His skin is dark, darker even than the Varisian olive tone you see on many in the area. His hair is long and braided, with little bells tied in the braids. He curses aloud as he slams the hammer against his finger.
To the west, the imposing strucure of a crumbling lighthouse ruin dominates the town, rising at least 50ft above the rest of the city, and set out on a high cliff overlooking the sea. It must have once reared even higher and appears to be in a grand state of disrepair.
Ahead, you can see the churchyard itself, which is being strung with butterfly shaped paper lanterns. Booths, tables, tents, and the like are being erected all around the square. A large stage is being constructed in front of the west Cathedral entrance but is only partially built.
Everyone you see seems to be in excellent spirits (except perhaps the watch or the clean up crew). And the town radiates the feeling of happiness and warmth.
@Gudada: There are several places you could set up a show. The stage is obvious or in the yard of the Inn where many patrons are already gathered. Or, less obtrusively, one of the smaller stalls or along the road near the Kitten girls. The baker you met at the gate seems to be doing a booming business handing out sweet biscuits to children and pes and tarts to adults.
@Beagan: Give me a Perception roll to over hear nearby conversations.
Mayhap I was better to stay away from here an' try my hand at huntin' or somesuch. This bloody crowds gonna make it nigh impossible to resupply in a proper amount of time, Dolgrin thinks as the line slowly shifted towards the wall. Finally making it to the entrance, he loos up at the mirror, a scowling dwarf with a dirty blonde hair, travel dust in his beard, looked back at him with striking blue eyes. Foolishness!
Finally making it in he sees the majestic cathedral, he thinks That's what this is all about? If they wanted to see some proper stonework, they should visit Janderhoff. The Sky Citadel... now that's a work of art. Dolgrin's eyes turn at the sound of the loud curse, taking in the Shoanti. Clumsy longshanks... Still, I had best book a room at the inn now, assuming it's not too late. I may have to stay a while before getting through to the right merchants for suppliies. I'm thinkin' the ones I want'll not be selling what I need at the moment. Dolgrin approaches the inn and looks at the sign.
Beagan will begin approaching interesting-looking conversations and try to "blend in."
"Oh yes, good story! I completely agree!"
Seeing the crowd inside the town,Viviana almost thought that the festival has started early.
Various sights ,smells and sounds tempt her from all directions, but she decides to see if there is free place in the inn.
Looking dirty and unkempt simply isn't appropriate for priestess of Shelyn,and she is not very keen on the idea of carrying her bag around.
Suddenly loud curses grab her attention, and she moves to the source who appear to be large, dark-skinned man clutching his hand.
What happened to you? Let me see your hand , probably nothing serious but...
A quick glance around the area, and 'Dada surmises the best short-term operating location would be outside the Stags. The stage looks real tempting. Too tempting. Something inside 'Dada tells him not to, but it loses.
The Varisian goes inside the gate, carefully moving around the barbarian and his female "rescuer", heading to rear stage left, where he puts his things down, and starts digging into the bags.
"Now, where did I put that? Is it? No, that's not it." As he talks in a full stage projection voice, he pulls a juggling club out of the bag, and starts doing a one-handed, single-flip. "Is it down in here? No, that's not it." He adds a second club from the bag. "I know I put it in here somewhere . . .." He brings out another club, dropping one of the two he was toying with in his one hand, making a loud clatter certain to attract more attention, to put the third on in its place. "A-ha!" He stands up holding a simple wooden mug, walks over to the front edge of the stage and puts it on the ground. "I would REALLY appreciate it if somebody would fill that up for me." He says this as he goes back into his bags, and start pulling out more props. His head pops up and turns towards the audience which is, hopefully, paying attention by now, "Preferably with gold, mind you!" He picks up his clubs, and starts a simple 4 club waterfall to warm up.
To Dolgrinn, Viviana, Gudada or anyone entering the Inn yard:
As you enter the foreyard of the inn, you cross under the archway formed by the white birch stags. The patrons have spilled out the large oak doors which stand open, and are rapidly filling up the yard. On the porch, the large Shoanti fellow is finshing hammering up his sign.
As you near, he finishes his work and steps back to admire it. The sign reads in crude hand-painted letters "NO ROOMS! No exceptions." He notices you approaching and frowns. "You see it there. NO rooms and no space in the taproom either. We're full up of Varisian vagabonds and Chelish thieves. Go on down the road now. We can't help you here."
However, is attention is quickly taken by Viviana and her gentle ministrations. In a much softer voice he says: "Well it did hurt quite a lot. Gods be good, a pretty lady like you shouldn't be traveling alone on the road. It ain't safe."
While the barkeep is distracted, Gudada begins warming up for his show. First one or two, then a few more and eventually a whole group of patrons, some well into their cups already, are watching and clapping along, cheering as he does some unusual feat.
@Beagan: You see a petite lady with short auburn hair and a finely sewn tunic speaking with another tall Shoanti fellow in the chruchyard near the stage. This man is nearly as large as the innkeep and has the same dark brown skin, but his head is shaven and he is visibly free of tattos. He wears chain mail and has a sigil of the city on his tunic.
This is what you hear the woman say:...guess we'll have to get Cyrdak to cover for him. If he's sick it can't be helped, but he really should be here. We couldn't have done all this without him."
"Yes madam," the large man answers. "I will see to it."
He gets ready to walk away, when you pop into the conversation. Both give you a queer look, but the lady smiles. "Oh, you agree do you? And who might you be, little sir?"
With the initial attention-getting stage over, 'Dada needed to start getting a little more adventuresome if he expected to make any money form this crowd. "This is what we call a basic waterfall pattern, if you watch, it simply flows, with one cresting over the top and tumbling down into the receiving hand," as he talks, 'Dada's head bounces form his receiving hand to the top of the throw and follows that club down into his hand, his head circling on a swivel. As he continues his voices starts to get softer and quieter, and his head dips lower and doesn't return as high on the next pass "and another, and another, and another, until." and he apparently drops that one.
The club he dropped, however, lands flat on its base, wobbles a little, but stays standing. He jerks his head back up, now juggling a far simpler three clubs, and walks off the stage. "Now, one of the hardest things a juggler can do is keep the items where he wants them. I mean, after all, they seem to always fall down, and down is not where I want them!" As the prattle continues, he steps up on a bench, and then up on the table, trying not to knock over anyone's drinks. He changes the pattern of the waterfall, slightly, giving him a long pause at one point in the flow. During that pause he points at a youngster in the crowd. "You! Can you go get the club I left on the stage for me? Jut go get it, and then go right back to where you are. Don't do anything else, yet." While the child moves, 'Dada turns, with a slightly sheepish look on his face, to one of the people sitting around the table he's on. "A few weeks ago, I had a child pick up the club and throw it at my head, from behind me." He quickly turns and stares the youngster down,the club s falling in their still stuttered pattern easily turning with him. "Not THIS time . . .." And he turns, watching the child, now turning a little red, slipping back into place, pointing at him and shaking a finger during the stutter. "Okay, when I count to three, I want you to toss me the club. Toss it high up in the air, so you don't hit this pretty lady in the head. Don't throw it at my head, either. Throw it higher than that, and let it fall down right here in front of me where the other clubs are, Okay? Ready? One. Two. There are times" The youth did exactly as expected, and threw the club as if the performer had said three. It was a far from perfect pass, but it was close enough (and timed with the stutter) for 'Dada to pull the club into the pattern. "when I really don't know if everybody understands what I'm trying to do here. This is one of them!"
And the show runs on for another 20 or so minutes unless somebody interrupts, with 'Dada using balls and rings from his kit, mixing the three, etc.
Deciding it was time for that next drink he approached the nearest tavern which had some big deer carved out front. On the steps he saw a beautiful woman, if a little road-stained, looking at the Shoanti barman's hand and further back a brightly clad man was standing atop the bar, juggling for all he was worth.
"What the heck kinda place is this?" he thought to himself. He decided to stick around and see what happened next.
@Gudada
gold pieces fill up and spill over the top of that mug. You may have even surprised yourself at your success.
The Shoanti barman growls:Talent must kick a cut back to the house. Pretty impressive I must say. Drop me 20% and you can come back tomorrow and do it again, eh? Just next time, stay off my bar..."
"Oh, greetings fair non-gnomes! My name is Beagan Burlesquetu, comedy extraordinaire! I overheard you talking about Cyrdak... You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you? I've been looking all over for him!"
"Oh sweet Iomedae's bosom..." The pounding in his head has he lurched through the streets was terrible and he resisted the urge to gag at the acrid aftertaste of cheap alcohol that reeked from his breath. Drunk enough for it to hurt, but not drunk enough for it to not hurt. Probably shouldn't have stopped drinking.
Splashing water into his face from a nearby rain barrel, he stared forlornly at his reflection - There was something incongruous in the terrible contrast between the sharp lines and creases of his dress uniform, and the haggard, worn features and unkempt hair of the man that wore them, his breath reeking of stale alcohol.
Fix it... Make it right again... The other nudged inwardly.
He exhaled and shouldered his kit again, staggering through the streets towards the nearest tavern, weighing his need for something alcoholic against the incessant prattle of his better self.
Sadly, alcohol was currently winning by a fairly large margin.
Pushing through the crowd gathering around the entertainer, he edged his way to a table in the back of the tavern where he could sit comfortably with his back to the wall. It was a bad habit picked up from years in the service, but he'd since realized he seldom felt secure without a wall behind him.
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DM DoctorEvil: Going to try to catch the attention of anybody who looks like they are serving.
Dolgrin looks at the full taproom, the woman 'tending' to the mans minor injury, and then takes in the impressive juggling performace. He then scowls at the man. "It's right nice when ye say ye have no exceptions that ye make exceptions. Leastwise, if ye be closed to more payin' customers then can ye point me at an inn that be open? Or better yet, at a merchant that can sell me supplies for the road. Ye think I want to be here in this?" he finishes gesturing at the large crowds. "Just tell me that an' ye can get back to hagglin' with the juggler and flirtin' with the girl."
"Well it did hurt quite a lot. Gods be good, a pretty lady like you shouldn't be traveling alone on the road. It ain't safe."
"Really? There wasn't any trouble."
Viviana examines the man's hand:"Doesn't look bad ,but if you have problem moving your fingers next few days is best to see a physician."
Viviana turns her attention to the amazing performance of the brightly dressed juggler,and applauds him along with the crowd when the show is over.
Then she hears grumpy voice, next to her, a blond haired dwarf is scowling at the barman ,and Viviana joins to the conversation with calming tone:
"Yes ,If there are no rooms left , could you recommend another good inn ,and i'll be on my way too ."
@Beagan: The woman turns and looks down at you smiling warmly. "My, we don't get many of the First Folk here. Welcome to Sandpoint! I am the Mayor, Kendra Deverin. Unfortnately, I have much to do with upcoming Festival and cannot stay and chat. If you're lookng for Cyrdak Drokkus ,the theater owner, you're in luck! The Sherriff here was just on his way to find him, and would be happy to have you tag along. Wouldn't you, Belor?"
The Sherriff looks less than thrilled, but nods his head in assent, grunting by way of reply. He nods to the mayor and walks off at a brisk pace so that you need to nearly jog to keep up with his long strides.He does not look at or speak to you.
@Aleksander: A round Shoanti woman, with dark chocolate skin and a long braid, is serving in the quite busy room. With the barman otherwise occupied, it's becoming quite hectic for her. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead and asks brusquely in accented common:"Yes, soldier, what will it be?". She doesn't look at you, instead eyeing the growing crowd and sighing. "Oh where is that Garridan? I'll flay him alive" she says softly to herself as she awaits your order.
@Viviana and Dolgrinn: The Shoanti man turns a dark look towards the Dwarf. "You'll do well to keep a civil tongue, longbeard. Normally we'd welcome you all here, but our rooms are full. The only inn that I know of with room is The Rusty Dragon, and that's down in Low Town near the docks. Can't say I recommend it, but maybe better than sleeping in the street with these hooligan Varisians running about."
Turning to Viviana he says: "Would that i had a room for you, miss. But unfortunately, there is none. Perhaps next time you are in our fair city?"
He gives you directions that would lead you down High Street, left on Festival Street and then left again on Market Street. This will take you through the churchyard and down the imposing hill that the cathedral stands on overlooking the rest of the town.
As they walk, Beagan assumes the sheriff is dying to hear all about his travels from Korvosa. Nothing of real note happened, but Beagan, being the talker that he is, embellishes on every detail.
"... and then I swear, by all the gods, I heard a giant bellowing as we passed down from the plateau! The driver said it was just his horse passing gas, but no sir, I promise you it was a giant. And then we saw blah blah blah... And then, we met a blah blah and blah blah blah...."
Beagan can't contain his excitement at being in Sandpoint.
After finishing his show, 'Dada gathers the mug and coins, then returns his gear to the bags for transport. Finally, he heads back to the Shoanti man who declared that the house gets a cut of the take. "You demand a tax of me for keeping your patrons happy and in their seats? Far be it from me to argue with a man who could throw me further than I could run." He produces 4 coins and offers them to the wildman. They are 2 gold and 2 silver, exactly 20% of the take, as demanded.
"As you have such a high opinion of my kin, I guess I will need to see if I can attract your business further down the road tomorrow. There's no reason for me to help your business when you are so eager to hurt ours."
With that, he turns away, and starts looking for that baker. The calf should be well-fattened by now . . ..
Viviana quickly responds , trying to prevent further argument between the dwarf and the bartender.
"If we are going in same direction perhaps you could walk with me master dwarf?"
She adds half-seriously.
"As this good man just said i shouldn't be traveling alone ,it ain't safe."
@Beagan: The Sherriff trudges on, setting a quick pace but your tongue moves faster than your feet as you continually spin tales at him while you walk. When you mention giants, he looks down at you, from head to toe, cocks an eyebrow, shakes his head, then moves on again without a word.
@Viviana and Dolgrin(?): You walk through the churchyard (just west of Area 1 on the map) and down High Street. The yard and the street are lined with merchant stalls, vendors, performers, and campsites. A partially erected stage is being built near the west entrance of the Cathedral, and pavilions and tables are erected in many places. You see the road for High Street and begin the descent.
Clearly, you are descending into Low Town, a cliff of limestone just south of the church sets off that area of town from this, which slopes gently down towards the harbor.
At the end of High Street, which is lined with moderate-sized dwellings, is a smithy with 2 enormous red dogs lying in the westering sunshine outside. The dogs are drawn in caricature on the Smithy's board sign. (This is Area 15 on the Sandpoint Map) From inside you hear the clanking of metal and a steady stream of curses that would make a sailor blush.
Following the directions, you turn right onto Festival Street as the mild descent continues. The crowd has thinned appreciably as you descend the hillside, mostly merchants and local citizens with only a few partygoers to be seen.
At Area 23, you see the famous Sandpoint Theater which has a chalkboard saying: Next Show After Swallowtail Festival, "The Harpy's Curse" starring Magnimar's diva Allishanda! Get your tickets now!
On past the theater is the market where many open air shops and booths are tucked together. The market is closed now, but will open with a flourish tomorrow. There is still a great bustle of activity here as merchants set up shop, unloading wares and displays.
As you stand to watch the scenes of the market, Viviana feels something heavy bump into her from behind...
@Gudada: The man takes your coins and scowls at your cleverness. He then goes back to filling mugs for thirsty patrons and you hear him and the female with the braid chittering on in Shoanti. She is berating him for leaving the bar unattended and for flirting with pretty girls. She is obviously his wife...The man rolls his eyes and keeps working.
You find your mark set up near the edge of the cathedral yard doing a brisk business selling pies and tarts. The once heavily laden cart is lighter, the once light purse is more heavily laden. The man is large, but appears soft though he does have a wicked knife at this belt.
@Aleksander: A round Shoanti woman, with dark chocolate skin and a long braid, is serving in the quite busy room. With the barman otherwise occupied, it's becoming quite hectic for her. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead and asks brusquely in accented common:"Yes, soldier, what will it be?". She doesn't look at you, instead eyeing the growing crowd and sighing. "Oh where is that Garridan? I'll flay him alive" she says softly to herself as she awaits your order.
"Haggling with the entertainment, apparently..." He rolls his eyes.
Not bad. Still standing and able to pronounce. You sure you want to give that up?
"I'll be have what he's having." He gestures to a severely inebriated patron at another table. "I need to get drunk. I'm almost there, but I need to get there a lot faster, thank you very much."
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Either works for the plot.
Probably just arrived, went to the Garrison, got discharged and got sloshed.
Viviana quickly responds , trying to prevent further argument between the dwarf and the bartender.
"If we are going in same direction perhaps you could walk with me master dwarf?"
She adds half-seriously.
"As this good man just said i shouldn't be traveling alone ,it ain't safe."
Dolgrin snorts. "Aye, be sure'n this place ain't safe. With both o' us, we'll be sure to see the hammer a'fore it strikes our thumb, unlike some it seems," he says, moving away with the woman and down the high street.
Dolgrin's eyes and ears are drawn to the smithy, but he turns away to continue down the road. He sighs as the crowd thins. "Ahh, that fellow may 'ave done us a blessing in disguise. Gettin' us to a room that be away from the biggest hubbub. Mayhap not completely quiet, but better than tha other place." Stopping to see the merhcants set up their wares for the next day, he says, "Hmmm, or mayhap the crowds just not 'ere a'cause the merhcants weren't set up"
While they move down the street Viviana tries to engage the dwarf in conversation.
"My name is Viviana Arideo ,and i am here for the consecration.
What about you?"
...
"Did you see that juggler, he was great ! I thought that he is using magic but no, only pure skill.
Amazing!
I wonder where he will perform tomorrow."
....
She is interrupted by steady and loud stream of curses .
"That's ... colorful.
Huh ,what does that even mean?
Actually forget it i dont want to know."
"Ahh, that fellow may 'ave done us a blessing in disguise. Gettin' us to a room that be away from the biggest hubbub. Mayhap not completely quiet, but better than tha other place."
Viviana shrugs:
"We will see. I just hope that they have rooms ,and bath."
"Hmmm, or mayhap the crowds just not 'ere a'cause the merhcants weren't set up"
"Maybe, the big day is tomorrow after all and...Hey!"
Viviana turns around to see who is behind her.
Walking down the street towards the baker, with his hands full, 'Dada thinks for a moment about how he can manage to get next to the baker, with at least one empty hand, without being too obvious about it. The answer is as natural as it could be, if a little aggressive.
Knowing that the best place to hide something is in the open, the Varisian heads for his mark at a reasonable pace, but tries to adjust it based on the flow of people to and from the cart, timing it so that he gets to the cart as another patron turns back up the street towards 'Dada. Flinging his gear forward, past the baker, 'Dada stumbles around the person who just made a purchase and bumps, hard, into the baker, taking this opportunity to try for the heavy purse. "Sorry. Mighty clumsy. Is everyone okay? Oh, let me gather my things. Such a mess."
As he gathers his things, he slips the purse into one of the bags.
"There, have I got everything? None of the balls are rolling around loose? Good. Well, now that I've spent a little time working, I've built up a bit of an appetite. I would like a meat pie, lamb if you have it, and a sweet of some kind for a dessert, please." While he's talking, he reaches down to his purse and pulls a few small coins, ready to pay for his treats. He hands over the coins, and turns down the street, continuing the way he had been headed, looking for something to wet his whistle. No, he doesn't wait for the baker to try to put the coins away, but he does start eating the meat pie as he goes.
Beagan's eyes widen upon coming into sight of the Sandpoint Theater.
"Magnificent, I say! That is where I intend to belong, good sir. Hopefully we can find 'ole Cyrdak quickly!"
The gnome stares longingly at the theater for some time before moving on with the sheriff.
Yes, that is where my dreams will come true. I can feel it. This town is my destiny.
@Aleksander: The waitress woman shakes her head at you. "Waht you need soldier, is to sober up or get moving. Looks like you've had your fill already and we don't need no scenes here. I got no room for you here either, so have to move on down to the Rusty Dragon. Maybe you'll fit in down there better too." She helps your unsteady feet to the door and sends you out into the revelers once again.
@Dolgrin and Viviana:As you turn, you sees a wizened older fellow leading a pack of horses through the crowd. "Nae, missy. Please 'cept my apologee. Its only me an' my wee horses here. We're mighty sorry ta bump inta ya. However can we make it up, eh?". He smiles a grim smile and you see the sinews stand out on his large arms and neck as he flexes and makes a shallow bow.
"Cain't say I'm Sorry ta have met such a beauty, but mebbe not under such poor circumstances. Glad ta have met ya just the same. Name's Hosk, Daviren Hosk. An' I'm guessin' your from oot of town, eh?"
"Is the stout wee fella with ya, then?"
@Gudada: You successfully relieve the baker of his own purse, and then to add insult to injury, you buy a pie from the man who you just pilfered from.
Smiling to yourself you turn and walk away from the gate towards the churchyard, you munch on your pie. Thinking it'd be nice to get a swallow and find a place to crash you remember the White Deer was full.
Asking a brother Varisian who you pass in the street, you get directions to the Rusty Dragon down in Low Town.
@Beagan: The Sherriff enters the Theater. The lobby is ornately decorated with dark woods and rich fabrics. A side door is the office and the Sherriff enters there, leaving you standing in the lobby for a moment. You hear the murmur of voices inside and the Sherriff trods out. "He's all yours; you were made for each other," he says smugly and heads for the street.
You poke your nose into the office and see it's veritably an avalanche of papers, playbills, scripts, posters and other items. Sitting at a rolltop desk working with a blue pencil is Cyrdak Drokkus. He has close cropped blond beard and long wavy blond hair. His dress is fashionable and expensive. He looks up when he hears you enter.
"Hullo there, mate. What brings you to the Sandpoint Theater? Need tickets for the next performance?"
Viviana takes a look at the man ,then smiles.
"Apology accepted mister Hosk ."
"My name is Viviana Arideo and i am indeed not from here."
"It is always nice to meet well mannered person, but i am not sure that we have time to talk.
We are heading to the Rusty Dragon and i'd rather get there, before all the rooms are taken."
Thanking his cousin, 'Dada decides to take the moniker Low Town literally, and starts heading downhill. He keeps the performer role first and foremost as he travels, though, taking the time to warmly greet people as he passes them. Simple phrases such as "Well met!", "A marvelous day for a festival!", and a muffled "Are we having fun, yet?" said around a mouthful of pie are the basic comments. He asks children "And what do YOU want to do first tomorrow?" smiling and laughing regardless of the answer (or shy, retreating lack of an answer).
As the hill begins leveling out, he'll look around to see if there's any obvious signs of this "Rusty Dragon". Not seeing any (maybe he took a wrong street?), 'Dada will ask one of the youths running about. "Child, can you take me to the Rusty Dragon? I've a couple of coppers for your trouble. Should be more than enough for a sweet during the festival, shouldn't it?"
@Viviana and Dolgrin:"Well, m'lady. I'm a'thinkin' I can help ya, an' at the same time you'll be helpin' me, ken? Ya see, the Dragon, which is the best inn in town, sits square next to me stables where I'm takin' these wee beasties. Reckon Miss 'mieko'll have sometin' to say to ya, at any rate. An' it'd sure be a kindness to an ol' man."
He passes the reins of 2 of the 4 horses to you and turns to lead the others. As he turns, you can see a large scar across the side of his head from his ear down his neck, disappearing under his jerkin. As you look at his neck you see a strange necklace made from long thick dried leaves of some unusual type.
For a closer look at the necklace:
@Gudada: You make your way down the hill in a jovial manner. You vaguely remember your home being in Low Town near the harbor, but have never heard of the Rusty Dragon. The children you speak to are also happy and not too shy and you laugh several times at their antics.
Finally, you stop a boy of about 10 and ask him for directions. The lad happily agrees to take you, but says (in true Varisian fashion): "I can take you the roundabout way for a few coppers, for a silver eagle, I can take you right there. Your choice, cousin."
To Anyone Arriving Outside the Rusty Dragon: (area 37 on the detail map) The Rusty Dragon, it turns out, is a rambling three story inn, in need of a good paint job. There is an enormous rusty iron Dragon perched on the roof, it arched neck leaning down into the street. A brazier burns behind the dragon's glassed eyes, causing it to appear evil and ominous in the failing light.
To all entering the Rusty Dragon (eventually): The first thing you notice is the smell. Curry, pepper, and the scent of other exotic spices tickle your nose and make your stomach growl in anticipation of a meal well seasoned and delicious.
Next, the sound. Unlike the White Deer, which is filled with boisterous revelers, this place is calm. The patrons who aren’t alone are engaged in hushed conversation, their discussion obviously private. A female Tien plays a lute and sings a soft foreign melody at the corner stage, which provides the only light in the place.
Looking around, the common room is awash with unmatched tables and chairs. A pall of smoke hangs heavy in the air. A well-polished mahogany bar with a shiny brass rail stands on the left of the door. A heavyset Ulfen man with a patch over an eye, and a large thick scar across his face stands behind the bar, wiping crockery with a towel. Two older Halfling servants, one man and one woman, scurry through the common room slinging plates and re-filling mugs. Stairs leading both up and down stand in the back of the common room.
As you enter, a few of patrons turn curiously, but most remain engaged in their secret dealings or their drinking. The scarred man behind the bar smiles, his lip twisted into a sneer and says in a voice thick with Northman accent: “Velcome to the Rusty Dragon. Vhat ees your pleasure?”
'Dada lets a good, solid belly laugh ring out in response. "The gods have favored me today, and there's no reason not to share the bounty amongst our family. Consider this a down payment, and you can have the coin when I can see the Rusty Dragon." As he speaks, he offers the boy the remainder of the sweet he picked up from the baker, and then taps his purse, intending it as a dare.
The young Varisian follows the even younger Varisian's lead. not even pretending NOT to watch him closely as they go.
Dolgrin nods and takes the reins. "That seems a good bargain. Tell me," he says to the man, "Do they be ears ye're sportin'? Of the goblin variety, if I haven't missed my guess. They be a nice set ye have."
@Aleksander: The waitress woman shakes her head at you. "Waht you need soldier, is to sober up or get moving. Looks like you've had your fill already and we don't need no scenes here. I got no room for you here either, so have to move on down to the Rusty Dragon. Maybe you'll fit in down there better too." She helps your unsteady feet to the door and sends you out into the revelers once again.
"Look milady, I... I... appreciate the concern... but..." For the briefest of moments, he considers raising his voice to get a word in edgewise as he is bustled out the door, and just as rapidly discards the idea.
He stared back at the bar behind him forlornly and shrugged. The bright sunlight and fairground noise made his head throb and he couldn't shake the a nagging doubt that somewhere, a Goddess was gleefully getting her own back at his crassness by making him suffer.
"Could you at the very least help me with something, milady...?" He narrowed his eyes against the glare and glanced back at the waitress as he shouldered his pack. "I'm brand new to the town and have suddenly found myself in dire need of an income..."
The admission was less painful than he expected, and he half suspected it was the alcohol already in him which let the words slip so effortlessly. He put on his best smile, knowing in the back of his mind that in his current semi-inebriated state, he probably looked far more deranged than sincere....
"Would you by any chance know some place a person like myself could find work? I'm a halfway decent fletcher, but given my situation, I've not much room to be picky."
Beagan clears his throat and nervously takes a big bow.
"Greetings, good sir! My name is Beagan Burlesquetu, at your service."
Beagan pauses for a brief moment to sense if the man perhaps recalls his name.
"I sent you numerous letters about performing at your lovely theater, but my correspondence must've all been eaten by goblins and wolves. But I am a comedian by trade, and I have traveled all the way from Korvosa to meet you in the flesh in hopes of gracing your stage!"
Little surprised by the request Viviana,suspiciously looks at the horses.
"They don't bite ,do they?"
Clenching the reins as if afraid that the horse will run amok, she completely misses the point of the conversation,and glances at the man's ears with confused expression.
@Gudada: The youth is happy with your bargain and leads you to the Dragon (see description above) but doesn't make a move on your purse (at least not yet). He takes the coin as you reach the front of the place and offers to guide you to other more seedy establishments if you should require.
@Aleksander: The woman looks at you with pity. "There is a woodworkers guild in Low Town. There is also the Town Watch which may better fit a soldier. There are many looking for work through the Festival to help build or stock booths. You may find something there. Desna's blessing poor soul."
You begin the stumbling walk through down the road to the churchyard. The girls from the Pixie's Kitten catcall and make lewd gestures toward you and the bustle of activity continues. You see priests in blue cassocks stringing butterfly lights and a group of workmen completing the building of the stage.
As the sun westers over the Gulf of Varisia, you realize you don't have accomodations for the night or dinner in your belly.