"Thanks Concertina, reckon we need to know what the spear is. It's a bit fancy for me to keep as a toothpick, or Ragnvald can do some test test poke poke with it...then we can sell it to a pig farmer or something if he don't like it"
Jez takes a look at the spear and the yellow potion:
Spellcraft-spear:
Spellcraft-yellow potion:
Let me see if I can figure out what these things are? Nope, no clue. I think one is a spear and the other is a yellow potion.
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Mobo, let me see that!
Spellcraft:
Spellcraft:
No one needs spellcraft to see what the potion was: A second after Mobo has drowned it, muscles start forming around his thin arms and legs and soon Mobo looks like the obscene parody of a goblin bodybuilder.
The barkeep steps back, getting some distance between him and the group of maniacs. He looks at Kosti and says
Ok, do whatever you want, you can fetch more beer from the bar, but don't leave this table and don't harass the other guests.
At the mention of harassing the other guests, Jez looks over at Nymeria: Was he talking about yours or mine?
...whose? Jez--I'm afraid I don't follow you.
Kosti tries not to let out a loud sigh...
You best lay back a bit and enjoy your beer.
He then starts with a silent but very urgent prayer to Desna that the road may soon bring the Raven or at least a sign of him to this place.
"Why would we wrestle with arms? There aren't any lying around anyway." Attalas looks confused.
"Nice muscles though, reckon you'd make a good apprentice smithy now, I can do all the big bits, and you can do all the little bits and detail stuff. We'd make some great armour!"
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Well, let's look at the alternatives. Have Mobo burn the place down, let Ragnvald thin the crowd out, let Attalas and me eat a few of them, or have the four of us gross out Nymeria. I think the latter choice, while the least interesting, is probably best.
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Time flies with enough ale and good food and night has already fallen as the barkeep approaches your table once more. Without saying anything he hands Kosti a small folded piece of paper
Tomorrow is the great day, right before the feat's climax.
R.R.
surely I do - one "s" more or less...:) Well, the village is preparing for tomorrow's Harvest Festival, maybe there is a special feast as some kind of climax?! You should find out.
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Mobo will show off great feats of average strength while the potion lasts, including but not limited to- picking up chairs, carrying three mugs at once, and nearly popping a few blood vessels trying to push Attalas over. Once intoxicated, he will chase Nymeria around the table brandishing Elf-wart the licktoad in attempts to get the elfkin to kiss the frog so she can become a prince.
As Jez drinks, she begins to consume food that likely would be considered less and less edible by the rest of the patrons. The judicious use of Purify Food and Drink, however, leaves her rather unharmed.
She also makes sure that her leg appears behind Nymeria and in front of Mobo so as to give the poor girl a slim chance of avoiding becoming a frog prince.
Attalas enjoys himself, but seeing he has not had such a good track record in human settlements, he doesn't go too overboard.
Nymeria places her outstretched foot on Mobo's chest so his arms can't reach her. When this becomes too tiring, she snatches up Elf-Wart and holds him out of reach until Mobo settles down. Then she gives the toad back.
You stay in the tavern until about midnight. All other guests have left and the barkeep closes the tavern. But since Kosti knows the village quite well, he quickly finds an empty barn in the outskirts of the hamlet where you can stay for the night.
The power of the Vernal Key even reaches up to that barn and so you have a very pleasant night even though the barn has lots of holes in its sides and roof.
The next morning, you are woken up by the noise of the Harvest Festival which is taking place today. Thinking about the number of stands and podiums you have seen yesterday, you guess that paying a visit to the fair could be a nice idea.
"Festival! Festivals mean building and doing things, always need for a smithy around a festival, and that means work, work means money and money means food. Can we go to the festival?"
Attalas is already grabbing his belongings to go to the festival. "I need some festival clothes too I think, might look funny if an armed and armoured Ogre walks into a humie fair, they won't know if I'm a marauding monster or a carnival sideshow"
Yep
Ragnvald goes to the festival still grumbling about the results of the last one they attended.
When they get to the fair, Jez looks for one of those funhouses with the glass and mirror walls thinking it would be amusing seeing how long it would take Ragnvald to lose his temper and destroy the place.
Nymeria enjoys the sights and sounds and antics of the locals, maybe getting a bit to eat somewhere.
Nymeria enjoys the sights and sounds and antics of the locals, maybe getting a bit to eat somewhere.
The marketplace and now fairground of Azurestone is bustling with activity. There are far more people here than living in the village and you realize that this harvest festival must be one of the greater festivities during the whole year.
On a central podium rests the Vernal Key - the artifact consists of three lattice orbs, one inside the other, all carved from a single blue mineral. The closer you get to it, the warmer the air gets and close to it, it feels like you were standing in a desert.
Among the many stands and for the festival errected small buildings you can make out the following:
The Sahtisauna: A mixture of bathhouse and brewery. After a hot bath or sauna visit you can jump into a cold pool and afterwards take a wodka!
Sun's Rest: A small stand selling all kinds of alcohol, from beer to absinth.
A small portable shrine of Erastil.
A small boxing and wrestling ring where villagers can try to beat a group of travelling strongmen.
Lots of different stands selling all kinds of food (mostly dried meat, pancakes, barbecue etc.)
Jez looks over at Attalas: Should we challenge the strongmen? They wrestle me. If they win against the little girl, then they get to wrestle you.
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BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
A small boxing and wrestling ring where villagers can try to beat a group of travelling strongmen.
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
"I should go first." Says Ragnvald. "I don't want you frightening away the men before I've had my chance with them."
Attalas wanders over towards the Strongmen, and then sits down, out of the way.
This is wrestling Ragnvald, not killing. The strongmen probably expect to be alive at the end of this.
This is wrestling Ragnvald, not killing. The strongmen probably expect to be alive at the end of this.
Ragnvald scowls. "I'm no common murderer. But I make no promises they will not be uninjured."
The man selling the booze at Sun's Rest looks at the strange assortment of goodies and picks out the gold coins
Uh...you can keep the rest, stunty.
then he hands you a bottle with a clear liquid, only some blades of grass hover in the fluid.
------------
As Ragnvald reaches the ring, the villagers make room for him, by now none of them had the courage to challenge one of the strongmen. Their leader, a heavily muscled giant of a southlander, confidently walks over to to Ragnvald and says
Hah! You surely don't look like you're a native, huh? Wanna test your strength? It's 3gp and if you beat our man you can win 30gp!
Ragnvald grins perhaps a touch too maliciously as he shoulders off his pack and weapons before shrugging off the chain shirt and woolen tunic he wore revealing the hulking mass underneath. His chest and arms bear few scars though his chest bears one long and poorly healed wound at his ribcage as if someone had sloppily tried to remove his heart and only managed to succeed at angering him.
Flexing one of thee massive columns that are his arms he tosses three gold to the man collecting the cash. Looking towards the strongman with his arms outstretched the large birthmark of twin mountains being sheared by a massive sword is clear for all to see.
"What do you think?"
Attalas quietly snickers.
Me thinks ye ar a posa!
says a short, squat form behind the leader of the group. A half-orc with tusks that would make lots of boars jealous. He's only about 1.6m tall, but his arms and tighs remind you of tree trunks.
Oi'm pop-your-eye-out and Oi have neva been beaten!
The southlander grins and turns his attention back to Ragnvald
Your Gorum-tattoo is cute, but do you think you are able to face the wrath of an orcish warrior?
Ragnvald shrugs ignoring the tattoo comment.
"How many?"
The large man looks confused
Huh? We only have one.