Word has spread far and wide of the magnificence of the Great Temple soon to be dedicated in the coastal town of Sandpoint in Varisia. Arriving, it's not difficult to see why. Before any other signs of civilization appear the white marble edifice can be seen rising shimmering to the heavens. It doesn't take long after that to see just how many people have heard that word. The typically small town is already overflowing with crowds. Great ships bearing the standards of many of the most influential families in Magnimar and beyond dot the sea below, and the fields around it have become home to the tents, wagons, and grand pavilions of the multitude of visitors who cannot be accommodated in its inns.
Performers and vendors work their way through the crowds beginning well outside the town and becoming more and more prevalent towards the festival grounds. As soon as you arrive it is clear that this will be an event to remember...
The salty smell of the ocean mixed and mingled with the aromas of food that seemed to waft up from every street corner. There was the distinct smell of hot, sweaty bodies mixed in there, too, but Avaria was quite purposefully trying to ignore that. The sounds of children's laughter caught her ears and she turned to see a group of young ones tumbling about in the long grass and wild flowers.
Even as far south as Magnimar she had heard about the fire that had ravaged the town's previous temple to the Great Dreamer. But today was the day that they could begin to put that tragedy behind them and the whole town felt like the air after a summer storm. It's contagious really, she thought as she realized she was grinning as wide as any of the locals.
Or perhaps that was her own elation at being off the ship that had born here here. The boat ride had been rather uneventful much to the dismay of Avaria. The half-elf had hoped for some sort of adventure on the high seas, perhaps a pirate attack, but the captain had managed to avoid any such incidents by staying in safe and patrolled waters. Despite the sea rolling out around them, the ship had felt like a cramped cage and she was glad to be back on solid ground and able to walk more than fifty paces in any direction.
"Oh Ludo darling, just look at that!" she exclaimed excitedly as they joined the throng of people on the main avenue.
Avaria pointed to the side of the road where a performer had set up a makeshift platform and was currently balancing a ladder upon his nose in a feat of strength and dexterity.
The man whose arm she was draped on gave a grunt, though his mustache twitched enough to suggest even he was smiling. Her current husband, the great Ludo Scarnetti, was a short and stocky fellow with mousy blond hair that showed a solid dusting of grey. He was a man of few words and quite stoic in his mannerisms, often coming off a touch gruff, but more of a scholar than he cared to let on; apparently books weren't manly enough for his desired reputation.
"Oh, if only we could stop and watch. If we don't press on, we'll be late meeting with your... Cousin? What's his name..." she said with a parting glance to the entertainer as she continued to lead her husband past.
"Titus," Ludo finished for her.
"Oh yes, that's the one. I always get him mixed up with your brother for some reason."
As they picked their way through the thick crowds towards the main square, the white marble structure that heralded their destination before they even docked came into full view. The Cathedral was large and magnificent, clearly the product of love and dedication. Even Shelyn would have been proud to be worshiped in a place of such exquisite beauty. Sure enough, Titus was waiting with his own date near the front by a pavilion set up for what she could only assume would be speeches and ceremonies later on.
"Ah, Titus, it's been too long!" she said, offering a hand out for him to plant a kiss on. "And who have you brought with you?" she added with a skeptical brow raised as she gave the woman an appraising once over, though the smile never slipped from her face.
"This would be Belladonna up from Andoran. A southern belle if there ever was one," Titus jested rather smoothly, eliciting a tint of blush and a giggle from his lady-friend.
Ludo and Titus exchanged firm handshakes along with a few short greetings and familial updates while Avaria engaged Belladonna in conversation. Unfortunately this Belladonna woman seemed more focused on discussing the weather and how it played havoc on her hair than anything of any substance or relevance. No, no no, Avaria found herself thinking. This one will never do. She's got a head full of fluff! We can do better. Avaria made a few mental notes for herself to keep an eye out for a proper woman to pair Titus up with. Surely she could find someone in this overflowing town during her stay here; one who wouldn't bore her senseless at reunions. Avaria's plots of matchmaking were brought to a halt when Ludo turned his attention back to his wife.
"Titus and I are going to go discuss business before he's needed else where, then I've got some other things to attend. You'll be alright here on your own?" Ludo inquired in his usual flat tone.
"Of course! What could possibly go wrong on such a magnificent day?" she exclaimed, leaning down slightly to plant a kiss on her husband's forehead. "You run along and play banker, I'll keep myself busy with the festival."
Ludo gave a satisfied nod and plodded (that was the only way to describe his stride) off with Titus to go about whatever it was they did that kept their family rich and powerful, leaving the two woman behind to enjoy their day at their own leisure. Not wanting to get locked into spending the day with Belladonna, Avaria quickly excused herself and melted back into the crowed before the other woman could protest or follow. Probably not the kindest act to leave the poor girl there on her own, but Avaria didn't want to end up having to make small talk all day when there were so many things to experience!
She managed to find a stack of crates which she promptly clamored up on as best she could in her difficult footwear and choice of attire. She held her hand up to shade her eyes and looked about at the multitudes of displays, shows, shops, and activities.
Now, where to begin?
Shadla crawled from the ground outside the small coastal town, shifting to her natural form well outside of sight. The smells and sounds of "civilization" assaulted her senses. She took a moment for herself, reaching out to feel the familiar spirits around her. This was still Teshua, the lands once held by her people. Their spirits still whispered secrets and spoke in the old tongue. She could almost hear them, but the din of the new was too strong. Still, feeling their presence was enough.
She moved forward, clumps of shattered earth dropping from her as she moved. Coming upon a signpost confirming this was, indeed, Sandpoint, she saw a mirror hanging from its frame, instructing visitors to "see (themselves) as (Sandpoint Citizens) saw (them)." Shadla snorted. She knew who she was, what these domesticated sheeple thought of her was of little consequence. They would see Graverattler, Shoanti Warrior-Shaman, not Shadla. She reached down and grabbed a clump of moist earth, wiping it across her face. Just another dirty savage.
She entered the town, towering over many of the Varisian and Chelaxian descended townsfolk at a height just passing six feet. A man of her height could command respect. A woman her height was an oddity. A Shoanti, clad in the skulls of aurochs, was something of a spectacle.
Still, Sandpoint's people weren't altogether unfamiliar with the Shoanti; their sheriff used to be of the people before he allowed himself to be tamed. She mused on what she had learned of the man. At least he retained some semblance of honor by fulfilling his duties capably.
Shadla paused before a pair of life-sized white birch deer. This was the place she had been told about. The sheriff's estranged brother ran this Inn. Close to the chapel, it would be an ideal place to stay while she attended the festival.
Upon entering the White Deer, she was greeted by Garridan Viskalai, the Inn's proprietor with a curt "Morning."
Shadla nodded, not bothering to return the greeting. "Need a room."
The Shoanti man sized up Shadla, but only offered "Full. Festival."
A game of brevity, Shadla thought, smiling inwardly, but painting a fake scowl. "Stables?"
Garridan stood wiping a countertop. The place was clean, she had to admit. "Three coppers a night."
Good, he doesn't gouge his customers when the place is full.. Aloud, she replied, "Clean it instead?" Better to earn a place than pay for it.
Nodding, the man replied "Twice a day."
Shadla smiled, extending an arm "Name's Graverattler.'
-----------------------------------
Graverattler squinted out into the mid-morning sun over the town's rooftops. She had taken her time mucking and scrubbing the stables of the White Deer. The coastal village was teeming with visitors, and no less than sixteen horses had been crammed into the stables with her and the seven other tourists who found lodging in the overcrowded inns unavailable.
Most of those seven had departed early to partake in the festivities revolving around the Cathedral's opening ceremony. Only one remained, a gaunt, haggard man of dubious Varisian descent. He watched, silent except for a nagging cough, as Graverattler cleaned the stables to a polish. Just as she finished, one of the horses soiled the floor. The man let out a laugh, sending him into a coughing fit.
Graverattler turned on the man, towering over him. "Something funny, little man?" she asked, allowing her thickest Shoanti accent to shine through her "Commonspeak" Taldan.
Whu?" the man gulped. Scrambling to answer, he spilled "You.. you had the place perfect, and that horse... "
"The horse did what horses do. She most fitting showed what nature thinks of 'civilized' ideas like cleanliness and perfection." Graverattler turned, putting away her tools.
"Aren't you going to clean that up?" the man asked, bewildered by her attitude.
"I agreed to clean the stables twice a day, not to insure they stayed that way. And I have things to do." She entered the bustling crowd, her size and the smell of her sweat mixed with manure parting it as she went.
While he may be impetuous, Rimy Jim is nobody’s fool; he’d known going in that the game was rigged, but had trusted that his strength and skill could overcome the weighted bottles of the bottom row. Fifteen minutes later, however, a small mound of his coins lay piled on the counter and he’d yet to claim a prize. The barker’s smile had widened with each copper, and was now so large that Jim was fairly certain he could put one of his generously-sized fists through it without even brushing the man’s lips.
He dropped another coin onto the counter, picking up the ball and hurling it at the stack. Its impact scattered all the bottles save one, which wobbled wildly on its base before eventually righting itself.
“Death and damnation!”
The barker collected the errant bottles and reset them before walking back to the counter. “Try again, sir?”
Glowering at the bottles, Jim dropped another coin and snatched up the ball, the barker’s smile miraculously widening even further as he swept the coin into the pile. With a snarl, Jim wound up and unleashed the ball upon the bottles, sending the lot flying in all directions; the lot save one, of course, which wobbled wildly on its base. Jim succumbed to his frustration and anger, shouting an arcane curse which shattered the reticent bottle into a score of pieces.
“I’ll take the Sandpoint Devil,” he grumbled, pointing at the doll of a winged horse-thing as he transferred his glower to the barker.
“No magic,” the barker explained without breaking his smile, pointing up at the prominently displayed sign hanging above his head. “Sorry.” Jim’s eyes never left the barker’s.
“I can’t read. Now give me the Devil.”
“But sir, you read the sign aloud when you first arrived. I’m afraid that I can’t give you a prize.” The barker began to turn to collect the bottles, but hesitated when Jim didn’t break his gaze.
“You’re mistaken; I didn’t read anything. The Sandpoint Devil, if you please.”
“But, sir…” The barker’s eyes widened as the half-orc exhaled a small cloud of cold mist from his nostrils and leaned his burly frame over the counter until their faces were mere inches apart.
“You’ve cheated me out of enough coin to pay for every one of these dolls three times over. Or for your funeral.” The barker laughed nervously, his eyes now darting between Jim’s stare and the passing crowd. “Now give me that doll, or by Gozreh’s beard I swear I’ll break you into so many pieces that you'll envy that bottle.”
The barker’s smile finally faded as he stared into Jim’s eyes. “We… we have a winner, folks!” The man fumbled the doll from the shelf, holding it out in shaking hands. “A Sandpoint Devil for the handsomely dressed gentleman!”
Rimy Jim sneered in scorn as he took the doll from the cringing man before turning and walking back into the crowd. The encounter left him even more frustrated than before, and he ground his teeth as a cold serpent of anger uncoiled itself in his gut. He almost pitied whomever managed to give him cause enough to release it –
“Look out, you stupid half-breed!” The shriek, shrill and condescending, came from behind him, and he whirled around with his fist drawn back to strike, still clutching the hard-won doll.
A human girl of eight years stood glaring at him, her arms crossed defiantly across her chest. At her feet lay a paper cone, its candied contents spilled across the dirt. Her eyes didn't blink at the sight of the towering sailor about to strike. Rimy Jim bent at the knees and waist, swinging his fist down towards the girl’s face.
“Apologies, m’lady.” Bowing low, he held the Sandpoint Devil doll up before her in his open palm. “Please accept this unworthy gift by way of recompense for me thoughtlessness, abject as it was.” She stared into Jim’s face for a few moments, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before taking the doll. A smile spread across her face as she turned it over in her hands.
“Okay. Thanks, stupid!” Rimy Jim smirked as he watched her wander back into the throng of people, then straightened his overcoat as he rose back to his hunched, hulking posture.
"Damn kids."
Grinding fried dough into the ground, he turned on his heel and stalked off towards the nearest bar, grumbling to himself.
“Grog’s a pirate’s friend, fer sure, a downright remedy,
But a better friend is, in fact, one’s own worst enemy;
Fer grog may warm ‘is belly ’n calm ’is shaky nerves
But nothin’ beats when ye get ta give the other what ‘e deserves.”
Spending a few hours in a dark corner at a dockside pub, surrounded by the familiar boasts, tall tales, and guffaws of sailors on leave had settled Jim's mood to some degree. The rum he'd been served was bad enough that he'd purchased a small cask to take with him; he found the ritual of a downing daily stipend of the drink a hard one to break, and if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was liquor that put on airs. This particular vintage left his throat raw as a rope burn, and as he closed his eyes to savor the sensation he could almost imagine he was back belowdecks, surrounded by crew and on the hunt for profit and glory.
What in the Hells am I doing here?
He stood up, shoving the cask into the heavy burlap sack hanging from his belt before leaving. As he made his way to the exit the sounds of merriment dimmed, newcomers who hadn't paid heed to the sulking figure in the corner momentarily taken aback by the hulking brute in their midst. Jim put a hand up to shield his eyes before pushing open the door and stepping out from the dark and smoky den into the bright light of day, the sun setting the massive spires of the cathedral ablaze with a dazzling nimbus.
You've been gloatin' over me all day, you righteous bastard; time to go toe-to-toe and get yer measure for meself before I go.
Jim made his way towards the edifice through the maze of tents, stalls, temporary shelters, and throngs of people. Finally he got a clear view of the the massive architectural marvel, and stood a short distance from its entrance as he gazed upon it for several long moments.
It's certainly big, and ostentatious ta boot. I s'pose that if'n ya want ta get the gods' attention, makin' an eyesore that'll shine all the way ta the Heavens is one way ta do it.
His curiosity satisfied, Jim turned to leave when he noticed a well-dressed woman nearby, perched on a stack of crates like a crow's nest and scanning the crowd.
Hmph. I wonder what kinda scam she's the lookout fer.
Graverattler strode through the crowds, pausing occasionally to observe the games involving prowess. She had long ago left behind the need to prove herself, but some of the games reminded her of her childhood. Of course, Shoanti games did not use blunted arrows or wooden weapons. Still, it rekindled in her an ageless joy at the simplicity of childhood worries. She felt the spirits move among these children.
Then her eyes cast an eye towards the great cathedral of Sandpoint. Try as she might, she had never understood the need to build grand structures for the gods. Did they not live in the mountains, the tallest of trees, the very sky and heavens themselves? What need would a true god have for something built by human hands? Words of astonishment met her ears as she approached for a closer look. Beautiful, they called it. Majestic. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that it did have a certain ascetic. But compared to the beauty of a sunset over the Storval Plains or the majesty of the moon in the night sky, the cathedral was merely a bit of begging for attention.
She scanned the crowd, noting the variety of people gathered here. This is the true wonder here. Not the building, but its effect on these peoples. Shoanti, Varisian, Taldan, Tien.... it doesn't matter where they hail from. Here, in celebrating this rejuvenation of their faiths, they have become one people.
Suddenly, she saw the spirit of the Cathedral. Its trials, the great fires which attempted to consume it, the strength and power of the believers who would not let it die. "Majestic after all." she hardly realized she spoke aloud.
As Avaria cast her gaze about from the top of the stacked boxes, her senses were more stimulated than she could have ever hoped. Any restlessness she may have been feeling from her oceanic journey here melted away until it was nothing more than a vague memory.
There were a few people who stood out among the crowd from her vantage point. The first was what was what she pegged as a Hellknight. An exceptionally tall Hellknight, at that. Not many guard outfits with helmets like that, she thought to herself. Despite her current lack of lawbreaking and the fact that Hellknights were not the law around these parts anyways, she still felt a shiver of unease. They were infamously harsh and the elite upholders of Infernal Cheliax's laws and customs and that should be enough to set anyone's hair on end.
That said, that ballsy hawker offering the Hellknight pies gave her a chuckle.
The next to catch her eye was a tall Shoanti woman who seemed to be making a point of showing just how Shoanti she was. Tribal tattoos decorated much of the skin she could see, and the rest was covered by hides and bones. From what Avaria could tell most of the local Shoanti had adopted the local styles (albeit with a tribal twist) and she found herself idly wondering what brought what she assumed was a native this far south of her homelands.
The last to catch her eye was a half orc who appeared to take up more space than anyone else on the road. He seemed to be nearly as tall as he was wide, though hidden under his clothes it was impossible to determine if the bulk was muscle or fat. She flashed him a winning smile when she realized he was looking back at her. She ambled back off the crates, ending up in relatively close proximity to the half-orc. He wasn't the most handsome, half-orcs rarely were, but his clothes were fine enough to compensate and mark him as someone who was likely above the standard pay grade. Her eyes flicked towards the decorative chain shirt then to his ring-clad fingers. They only confirmed the suspicions in her mind.
With all this staring, it'd be rude not to introduce myself now.
She extended a gloved hand forward towards the man. "Avaria Scarnetti. A pleasure."
As the morning hours wane the crowds grow more and more dense in the streets of Sandpoint. Before long it will be difficult to get in or out of the church square. It's unseasonably warm today for being the first day of fall, and people's moods and attire both reflect the favorable weather. In the crowds some can be heard claiming that the gods themselves have blessed the occasion, while a few cynical others speculate that the town elders must have paid a tidy sum to some powerful druid. Other people gossip about the quality of various food vendors and the results of yesterday's starknife competition and obstacle course. The most important piece of news circulating through the throngs though seems to be that a series of speeches will be given at midday to welcome visitors and officially begin the festival.
As Victoria carefully picks her way through the crowd toward the towering new church she can't help but notice a well dressed woman climbing down from a stack of crates and introducing herself to an impressively large half-orc. Before she can make any sense out of that situation, however, she feels a tapping on her shoulder. Turning, she finds herself face to face with a handsome middle-aged human man wearing an impeccably kept suit of silver robes. Not a single thread is out of place and his outfit is perfectly symmetrical, down to the matching rings on each hand. On his chest hangs a large, solid gold holy symbol denoting his allegiance to Abadar.
"Paralictor Whitesmith, I beilieve," he addresses her, "what a pleasant surprise to find you here. I have a seat on the stage for the upcoming speeches; you simply must join me." He gestures towards the stage looking attentively for her consent but not completely waiting for it. As he begins to move towards the platform in front of the church he adds, "While we wait you can tell me what brings a hellknight to Sandpoint."
Scanning the crowd, a glint of mid-morning sun shone off a heavily armored woman. That mail. It's Hellknight armor. Graverattler felt her fists ball up, her energy rising. What is a Hellknight doing here?
She took a moment, trying to re-center herself, feel the ancient spirits of the lands, but the oppressiveness of the crowd blotted out her senses. She saw a man approach the Hellknight. She didn't recognize the man, not surprising considering the sheer number of people about. She tried to circle in closer, but the crowd persisted.
Frustrated, she turned and scanned the rest of the crowd for Hellknight activity. The devil-lickers rarely worked alone.
Religion
Local
Perception
The Prelate listens attentively as the young Paralictor speaks. For a moment he carefully considers his response, apparently struggling to fully discern the concealed knight's meaning... "Well, I'm sorry to hear that your quest was unsuccessful," he offers in a measured tone. "Perhaps the Master of the First Vault drew you to Sandpoint just for today. Inside this magnificent structure there are six chapels dedicated to six of the gods. People are most aware of Desna's presence because the Chief Priest here has traditionally always been a Desnan, but Abadar is revered here as well; and I dare say that his altar is the most spectacular. Its clad completely in gold! A very wealthy devotee in Absalom made a sizable donation towards the building of this church and that was one of his stipulations." From their seats the Prelate becomes distracted exchanging niceties with other honored guests. He periodically introduces Victoria to random priests and knights from other faiths but she is largely left to herself for the final minutes before the speeches begin.
Meanwhile, not far from this coming together of polite society a wild woman's tempers smoulder. Graverattler's senses sharpen like an animal on the hunt. She scans the crowd intently but finds no signs of any other hellknight activity. Through the noise of the crowd, and of the blood pounding through her ears, she hears an unfamiliar voice, "Tuahine te rangimarie."
The words come from the mouth of a large hawk as it lands on her shoulder. "E kore e ratou ara matou ara , engari kua kawea mai nga wairua tatou i konei i tenei ra , ia ratou , me a matou , kia kaua e faahohonu wehenga tawhito engari whakanui tahi ."
The woman on lookout caught Jim's eye and smiled, then made her way down off her perch and through the crowd towards him. A few moments later she stood before him, extending a gloved hand his way.
"Avaria Scarnetti. A pleasure."
Jim smirked, nonchalantly resting his right hand on Zenovia's pommel as he took the proferred hand lightly his left. In his experience, people didn't introduce themselves to a man like him to make small talk, attractive women least of all. Either she wanted something from him, or had just picked the worst mark of her life. Shifting forward in a slight bow, he introduced himself.
"Well now, that remains to be seen. Rimy Jim, at yer service, miss. See anything interestin'?" He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, indicating the stack of crates.
"Ua ite au i te varua neke i roto i enei iwi. Na ano ahau e matau, rawa, kia neke wairua kino i roto i te tau. Ka faatumu ahau i ahau. Ko ahau Rattlerurupa. Ko wai te mea e kawea pakau parirau ki toku kamupene?"
"I have felt the spirits moving among these people. And yet I know, too, that evil spirits may move among the unworthy. I will center myself. I am Graverattler. Who is it that feathered wings bring into my company?"
"Ko ahau te tangata e korero mo te rangimarie," the bird answers drawing itself in. As it springs back into flight it adds, "Kia haere mai te wa mo te tutu , engari e kore e rapu i te reira i roto i faufaa ore !"
"Oh the usual you may find at festivals such as these. Games, competitions, hawkers, entertainers of every sort. A few people who stand out among a crowd..." she trailed off a moment in the form of a brief pause. "But nothing too far out of the ordinary with the possible exception of a Hellknight mulling about the crowd."
She taps a finger against her cheek and can't her head to the side as if thinking upon such an oddity. "I don't see many of those this far West of Korvosa. But enough of that. I don't suppose you are any sort of local who may know the wheres and whos of the area?"
"Wairua rere ki a koutou." she followed the bird's flight with her eyes. It has been too long since I have had wings to spread. Te ao seems bigger from the ground.
Graverattler shook off the uneasiness and looked for a spot she could take outside the bustle with a good view of the Hellknight. She wasn't going to start anything, but she would be prepared if danger came.
"Local? Gods, no; just another sucker 'ere fer the show. As fer who's who..." Jim points with his left hand at the nearby seated noteworthies and dignitaries. "Them's important," then, jerking his thumb over his left shoulder at the rest of the gathered crowd, "- and them's not."
Jim considers the petite, well-to-do tourist all dressed up for a day at the festival, then looks around at the swelling crowds.
Ah, what the hell - with all this rabble about, I'm not gettin' outta 'ere b'fore the show's over anyways.
"'Course, there's no need fer a woman o' refinement such as yerself t'be left climbin' on crates 'n' peerin' over the shoulders of a bunch o' gawkers such as these. Allow me."
Jim turns towards the church, starting up a chant as he walks forward towards the front of the crowd.
"Everybody move! A pirate's comin' on through!
Everybody move! 'R he'll be comin' fer you!
Everybody move! Best part the way!
Everybody-MOVE! 'R else yer likely ta pay!
Between his intimidating stature and his haunting song, Rimy Jim finds the crowd surprisingly accommodating as he moves toward the stage. Before he can look over his shoulder to see if Avaria Scarnetti has followed him, his song is abruptly cut short by a cracking boom as a well dressed woman on the stage slams two thunderstones together. A second of stunned silence is followed by a chorus of murmurs running through the crowd: hush... look... no, the mayor's about to say something...
Stepping up to a large central podium, the woman smiles broadly and calls out as loudly as she can, "Greetings! I am Mayor Deverin and on behalf of the good people of Sandpoint I bid you Welcome! The gods have seen fit to bless us this day with beautiful weather, and following the speeches some of our own inns and taverns will be blessing us with the bounty of their kitchens!" Her enthusiasm seems to be contagious and she has to pause for a moment after alluding to the day's free lunch to wait for some cheers to subside. "I can see that we have a few visitors here today..." she jokes, once again needing to pause while laughter dies down, "It is a pleasure to celebrate this momentous occasion with all of you, and my pleasure to introduce our other speakers. So, without further ado, our honorable sheriff, Belor Hemlock!"
A large man who looks to be of Shoanti decent rises and makes his way to the pulpit to a smattering of applause. He is every bit as somber as the mayor was enthused. "There are far too many people in town right now, so be careful. In a crowd like this there are sure to be pickpockets and the Sczarni are not above kidnapping when it suits their purpose. Hells, with this many people there may even be Nidalese slavers pokin' around. So don't go crazy with the drinks, and don't get to fightin' else we'll lock you up till things quiet down and we can sort out what happened. As many of you know, the reason for the new church is that the old one burnt. Remember that if your thinking about doin' anything dumb with your torches or campfires. Now, let's have a moment of silence for those that died in the fire."
The mayor tries to hide her annoyance and appear reverent as the sheriff stands wordlessly behind the podium for an awkwardly long time. Eventually it becomes too much for her and she calls out, "Our sheriff, ladies and gentleman." As he quietly returns to his seat she continues, "and our next speaker is the Sandpoint Theater's owner and chief promoter, a man who loves the arts very nearly as much as he loves your patronage, Cyrdak Drokkas!"
The mayor's words seem to breathe some life back into the crowd and there are cheers and claps as he rises. While he approaches the podium several of the locals quietly discuss the absence of Lonjiku Kaijitsu, a local noble who canceled his speech this morning due to an illness which they seem to think he invented to avoid the crowds and hawkers. Cyrdak is a charming and articulate man. He gives the longest of all the speeches by far, recounting at length the misadventures of the builders, fundraisers, and inconvenienced villagers throughout the years long construction process. By the time his tale draws to a close most of the people are laughing and cheering and hanging on every word. He concludes with an invitation to check out "The Harpy's Curse" playing at the Sandpoint Theater this season and a flamboyant bow before returning to his seat.
The mayor rises once more and introduces Father Zantus, the local priest of Desna and chief priest of the new church. Stepping up to the podium he speaks clearly, loudly, and simply, "Thank you all, very much, for coming to celebrate with us. And thank you to the elders of Sandpoint, the leaders of our faiths, and all of the generous individuals who gave gifts towards the construction; without all of your support we would not be standing here today. But you have stood listening long enough: the gods have brought us here to celebrate and it is my honor to announce the festival officially begun. May the Starsong keep you safe, and full, and full of joy this day!" As he finishes speaking tarps are pulled off of several carts and multicolored clouds of the eponymous Swallowtail butterflies fill the air. The crowd lets out its biggest cheer yet to accompany the releasing of the swallowtails and children immediately begin chasing after the butterflies, as best they can in the crowds.
Before completely losing the crowds attention, the mayor jumps up once more, "Please help yourselves to the food in an orderly manner. Take some time this afternoon to try your luck at the games, check out the various vendors and local businesses, and we'll see you back here at sunset for the dedication!"
The speeches done, tray after tray pours out of the local eateries filling the square with the rich smells of curried salmon and peppercorn venison. The buzz among the people has become tangible and everywhere people are laughing and joking and having fun. Booths with games of balance, accuracy, or strength open for business and stalls offering all manner goods raise their curtains.
"Korero te tangata tikanga ki te mano fuu runga i whakanui. Fifili e ahau i te huru o te atu wairangi." Graverattler mutters after the Sheriff's speech and the crowd's reaction. She pays equal part attention to the speeches, the crowd's reactions, and the Hellknight perched so close to the stage.
Once invited to partake in the festivities, she feels a bit at a loss. Perhaps that noisy bloo hawhe that was interrupted by the thunderstones could provide some distraction. She rarely ate any regular food, but some of the wares smelled outright delicious. Given the options, she decided on picking up a few of the more aromatic offerings on the way over to the self-proclaimed 'kaiā moana'.
She took a wandering path through the food carts towards Jim.
"The man speaks sense to a crowd fixated on celebration. I wonder which attitude is more foolish."....half blood....'pirate'
Avaria did indeed follow Rimy Jim through the crowd. His song was chilling to be sure, but her interested was piqued at the idea of him being a pirate and following the break in the crowd her made was better than elbowing her own way up. Once situated at the front, the thunderous sound split the air like the crack of a whip, immediately bringing her eyes to the front stage. As Jim had said, there were what she could only assume to be important people situated upon the pavilion. Including the Hellknight, much to her surprise and curiosity.
The speeches went as speeches typically do, though the rather somber mood of the sheriff seemed to dampen the crowds spirits. Fortunately, by the end everyone seemed to have forgotten the passing mood and had shifted back up to high spirits. At the end, Avaria clapped with everyone else as the crowed started to disperse. She, on the other hand, lingered near the stage.
Curiosity killed the cat, but she figured she had at least four lives to go.
She shook hands with those who were coming off the stage, boldly introducing herself and offering flirtatious smiles all around. But her eyes always flickered to the Hellknight as she tried to catch the armor clad woman's eye. Or, mask slits. Whatever. Clearly she had some importance around here and Avaria intended to find out what exactly that was in a place so far from Cheliax. Avaria hated not knowing the best gossip, and this one had to be juicy.
Jim listened through the mayor's two speeches, the sheriff's unheeded warnings, the showman's amusing anecdotes, and the priest's heartfelt thanks; all the usual boring nonsense, though with more than usual flair in Cyrdak's case. As the crowd began to disperse towards the food and entertainments, Jim saw Avaria step up and insinuate herself into the group of dignitaries as they departed the stage.
Ye're welcome, missy.
Looking at the lines forming at the games booths and free food, Jim decided he wasn't in the mood to wait, and started towards the church to see if he couldn't sneak a peek inside.
At his request for aid Avaria suddenly remembers the curiosity that brought her to the stairs in the first place; looking up on the stage she realizes that the hellknight and the man in gray she was with have already slipped away. That bit of gossip now out of reach, for the time being at least, she heads off to lunch with the beautiful priest. Augustino turns out to be a gifted conversationalist too, and her whole afternoon passes quickly and pleasantly as they eat and talk. Shortly before the consecration ceremony he thanks her for her company and takes his leave to head for the stage.
The man who recognized him, Bilius Commins, it turns out was an old friend of Fel Whitebeard one of the other survivors of the Lament's ill-fated final voyage. True to their word, the salty dogs keep Jim's mug full all afternoon as they trade stories among themselves and hang on his every word. Shortly before sunset Bilius shakes Jim's hand once more and says, "I reckon we oughta head out if we're gonna watch the... what-have-you... been a real 'onor buyin' yer drinks sir."
After a delicious meal and pleasant conversation, Father Zantus leads a tour for everyone. On the main floor is a massive gathering space for public worship surrounded by 6 alcoves, each of which contains a shrine to one of the 6 gods worshiped there. The Prelate's boast does not seem unfounded as the walls and ceiling of Abadar's entire alcove are gilded in gold and the large key, the altar table, and even the candlesticks look to be made of pure gold. There are also 2 large staircases which lead down to ground level; enclosed within this lower level of the church is the foundation of the previous church as well as 6 standing stones which predate the town. The circle of stones, the priest explains, have been hallowed with a daylight effect so that pilgrims can visit at any hour. A hidden staircase leads up from the sanctuary to the upper levels which contain offices and living chambers for members of the various faiths, store rooms, a vault which houses their collection of scrolls and potions along with any large contributions that come in, and a library.
Upon concluding the tour brother Hamon, the local priest of Erastil, points out the time and the group quickly heads out to resume their places on the stage.
As long as the warrior-shaman is willing to sit, they are pleased to share stories with her. As sun down draw nears the old woman thanks Graverattler for her company and gathers her family to go find somewhere to watch the ceremony from.
As the sun begins to set the crowds in the square are even more tightly packed then before. It's difficult to move and a number of more colorful visitors have climbed or jumped onto nearby buildings to see better. As the religious leaders fill up the stage, several enterprising arcanists take flight over head. Most impressively, three men who look to be of Osirion descent arrive on a large and richly appointed flying carpet.
Father Zantus walks up to the podium and once again slams two thunderstones together. Silence moves through the crowd. The priest raises up a copy of the Eight Scrolls, the holy texts of Desna, and places it down on the podium to calls of 'Hear the Song of the Spheres' from some in the crowd.
As a pair of acolytes carries offerings of holy water and annointing oils up on to the stage as part of the ceremony a murmur starts within the crowd. Two of the men on the flying carpet are now standing, and with no warning one of them reaches down, intones a few arcane syllables, and teleports them and their carpet away. At this a concerned look comes over Father Zantus' face. At nearly the same time a large hawk soars down towards the square and shouts , "Giants!!!"
Graverattler listens to Mountainleaper's stories and those of her family with pleasure. She practices a mental technique to remember the words properly so she may repeat the stories later to her tribe. She doesn't interrupt, but when given the chance, she inquires about the stone giant tribe, as well as any other giant activity in the area the family knows of.
After an enjoyable afternoon with the family, she returns her attention to the ceremonies and finds a place at the outskirts of the crowd. At her height, it wasn't difficult to find a spot she could see the action over the crowd, and she had always had good ears.
Hearing the ruckus in the fields outside of town, Graverattle takes advantage of her position on the periphery of the crowd to slip into a nearby alley or side street, where she transforms into a large creature of purest stone and earth.
Initiative
Graverattler cast a spell , then dives into the ground and swims 50' closer to the source of the noise. Using the methods taught to her by her mother, she holds her breath, centered in her ki.
Delighted by the attentions of someone so very handsome, she allows herself to be whisked away for a meal with the very easy on the eyes company. Shelyn had clearly seen fit to provide her with such a gift for the afternoon and she'd have to remember to give her thanks for it later. Besides, Ludo would be thrilled she was making connections of at least relative importance here in Sandpoint. You never know who you could strike a long term business deal up with...
That said, the meal was mostly filled with idle gossip and Avaria was thrilled to have someone who was more in the know about the more distinguished visitors. She had hardly been expecting such a turn out for the festival and hadn't done her own homework on the who's who.
"So did anyone controversial show up? You know, besides the Hellknight. Anyone looking to cause trouble?"
Mischief glinted in her eyes as if this would have been the greatest thing ever if the answer was yes.
~ ~ ~
After the priest parted ways with her, she stood again as near to the front of the crowd as she can manage without the aid of Jim (Wonder where that fellow's wound up. He seemed interesting.) to watch the dedication. Desna was a respectable god, to be sure, and seemed to be the local favorite. Not surprising in Varisia, really.
Her gaze was brought to the skies at the thought of Desna where she spotted the flying carpet and its rather exotic looking riders.
She easily identified the one; who wouldn't? But she wasn't able to place the others, though she was certain she should have been able to. She took a moment more to ponder it up came up with nothing so she simply made a note to herself to try to get an audience with the Prince later. Connections. It was all about the connections.
She allowed her focus to shift back to the dedication. She noticed a few people perk up and look around, though she paid it no mind and dismissed it. However, whatever it was that had caught people's attentions quickly became more evident. The Prince and his entourage popped from existence after a quick spell from one of them (much to Avaria's annoyance and disappointment), a rising murmur rose through the crowd, Father Zantus paused to look concerned, and as all this was happening, a hawk of all things screeched down crying 'Giants'!
Not wasting a moment as the disturbance escalates, Avaria draws her bow and looks for the quickest way to get on the stage for a better vantage point.
She aims her bow out over the crowd, prepared to fire a shot at the first sign of trouble should it be trouble she can actually shoot.
The fields are to the south and east of you, about 600 feet from your current location. They are on the otherside of Turandarok River, so to get to there you'd either have to emerge and use the bridge or go under it, or come out in it and walk on the bottom- in any case, it will add some extra time. Do you have any means of knowing whats going on on the service while you're using earthglide?
The crowd is too tightly packed to get a running start to jump. Taking advantage of your acrobatic prowess, however, you are able to tumble your way through the crowd and up onto the stage (as a double movement). From that vantage point you still cannot see exactly what's happening, but its clear that the crowd is surging north as people flee from something south of you.
You begin barking orders and leap down off the stage, which you quickly realize may have been a mistake... the people are packed in tight and moving is difficult (counts as difficult terrain, move at half speed). What's worse, they are not listening to you. You can feel the crowd pushing north, trying to get away from something they seem to fear more than you.
Jim enjoyed the Hagfish's chowder despite himself, tipping back several bowls of the stuff with relish. The simple pleasures of good food and a full belly contented him, and he looked about the festival with softer eyes as he gnawed on a piece of hardtack to cleanse his pallet.
Been so long since I had real food, I fergot how good it feels. I came 'ere to unwind, I might as well let meself do it!
"Bugger me..."a man says wide-eyed, he and several of his mates, sailors all, staring at the imposing half-orc, "yer Rimy frakin' Jim, ain't yer?!? Boys, hold fast, this here's the lucky sum-bich what brought the Gambler's Lament outta the Eye o' Abendego!"
"Aye, that's me; but if ye're lookin' fer favors, best try them that's sellin' 'em - it'll cost ye in coin but save ye in heartbreak!"
Jim and the sailors spent the afternoon trading stories, and Jim picked up some news about notable personages in port before the sailors bid their farewells and left for the resumption of ceremonies.
Jim stood and stretched, then decided that he could stand a little more pomp and circumstance, a sure sign that the alcohol had done its work.
A fine day after all; might as well see it through.
Leaving the Hagfish and joining the masses, Jim paid little attention to the goings-ons, content to lose himself in the chatter and jostles of the crowd.
"Giants!" came the cry, and Jim perked up.
An' 'ere I thought today couldn't get any better. The gods musta owed me a favor!
Studying the crowds and the horizon, Jim grabs Zenovia's hilt and begins moving in the likeliest direction to find some giants.
Then it's a sprint to the action. Hopefully I can get there in a few rounds.
I could of turned into a bat or giant vulture and flown, and certainly could have used the vantage point to rain down spells as I approached, but that's a tactic for another day, perhaps.
The crowd which had been so peacefully fixated on the dedication ceremony suddenly jolts to life. Before the hawk has even shouted its warning, Graverattler ducks into an alley and is transforming as she hears the news of the giants. It quickly becomes obvious which direction they are coming from as the south end of the crowd surges northward away from them...
Acting quickly, the brazen hellknight barks orders to the other dignitaries before wreathing herself in arcane energy and leaping into flight. From 30 feet above the stage you can see over the tops of most of the buildings in town- approximately 500 feet south of you the tops of several stone giant heads, and perhaps a half dozen tree-like greatclubs can be seen moving towards you...
Those with the proper perspective can see the first giant swing his club at a random building, collapsing part of the facade in a pile of rubble before pressing forward. Two giants grab hunks of debris and then move to follow him. Another simply rushes past him. Two more pick up rubble and heave it towards the square- one directed at Victoria and another at one of the wizards who were already flying during the ceremony...
,
A deep voice rumbles like stone on stone out of a quiet alley as Graverattler hardens are stone exterior. Taking a deep breath she dives beneath the surface of the earth and begins swimming towards the source of the disturbance.
As the crowd continues pushing its way north, the well dressed Avaria tumbles her way through them and up onto the stage. From her vantage point she still cannot see the threat, but as a large hunk of bricks and mortar clangs off of the armor of the hellknight above her she is able to discern the direction to the trouble (and suddenly feels somewhat exposed in her party dress).
Rimy Jim begins shouldering his way through the crowd against its natural current... it is frustrating work, though he makes some progress.
The wizard who was struck by the hunk of debris turns tail and flies as fast as he can away. Another invokes an illusion and vanishes from sight. The final, and boldest, wizard summons a trio of magic missiles and launches them at the closest giant before flying back from them.
Many of the dignitaries decide to heed the hellknight's instructions and take off for the main entrance of the church. One priest rises and casts air walk on the priest seated in front of him. The recipient (a stunningly handsome, and not entirely dressed, priest of Shelyn) in turn rises, reaches into his partial robe and draws out a glaive before running through the air to the first open rooftop.
Since the attacks from the closer giants (on Victoria and the wizard) happened before I began swimming through the ground perhaps I would have noticed that there were closer targets before I dove underground(I would be large at that point, and around 12' tall)?
If so, I would head towards those targets underground, and poked my "head" above ground at the end of my move to see where I was in relation to them, ok? Otherwise, yeah, I'm probably "swimming" straight to the river, oblivious.
If needed:
Perception
Lightning arcs out from the flying Hellknight, past the nearest giant who has rushed forward on his own and into the cluster of three giants behind him. Two of them manage to avoid the most damaging jolt, but the third takes a hit directly to his chest.
The charging giant continues forward briefly until he encounters a shirtless, barefooted man with two shortswords standing in the road. He brings his greatclub up and attempts to smash the man with it...
,
and, though the blow is clearly not lethal it does land heavy on the man's shoulder.
It's difficult to tell at this distance but one of the giants who was struck by lightning seems to be singing; he waves his hands in a series of arcane gestures before advancing again. The two other giants with him both heave their chunks of debris at Victoria...
,
The first strikes her squarely in the chest with enough force to take her breath for a split second. The second crashes hard into her armor but it does its job admirably and she narrowly avoids any further damage.
Seeing that traffic ahead of them has gotten a bit backed up, the two giants bringing up the rear each grab another hunk of debris and head west down another road.
Round Two
Graverattler, having heard the crashes, rises from the ground as she moves now that she's 100' closer to the source of trouble. If her next 50' of movement will get her close enough to strike a giant(10'reach), she will do so with power attack and vital strike.
for
If she needs to move farther, she will take the clearest path including using earthglide where quicker to move 100' closer. She will end her movement mostly in the ground if moving is all she does (for cover).
Jim found himself fighting against the crowd rather than against the giants. He saw wizards flying about, launching spells and being pelted by large chunks of masonry, while he shouldered his way through a mass of panicking landlubbers. The top half of a giant lumbered into view far down the street, and Jim cursed under his breath.
Those flyin' bastards are gettin' all the action! Time to get in this thing, Zenovia.
Bracing himself against the waves of bodies and tightening his grip on Zenovia, he grumbled out a low song:
"Though the seas be rough, toil on! Toil on!
Though the winds be gruff, toil on! Toil on!
Find yer legs and tack yer sails
There's work to do, 'n’ we'll not fail!"
Bolstered by his song, Jim starts forward again, a shark with the scent of blood moving effortlessly through the sea of bystanders towards his prey.
Azaria spat a well-chosen curse as she looked around for anything to target. She had been skeptical at first about giants being in town, but the stone and brick throwing had been enough conformation to quell any doubts harbored in her mind. They were still out of her view from this height. She glanced up to the Hellknight; lightning arched out from her and struck at something. Hope she's a good shot with that, Avaria thought as she jumped off the stage and started to push her way against the crowd towards the source of trouble. Lot of good I'm doing. Should have learned to fly when I had the chance.
Surveying her options for movement, Avaria takes a few broad strides across the stage and leaps out into the crowd...
Landing an impressive 35 feet from the stage, and managing to push her way another 10 feet through the surging throng, she can now see the top halves of several giants over the heads of the crowd. As she looks at them she is jostled by a burly but familiar looking half-orc as he slips by through the crowd.
The half-naked man (who Victoria alone out of our heroes can currently see) raises his shortswords in a defensive posture.
Overhead the bold wizard lobs another trio of magic missiles towards the closest visible giant.
The priest who remains on the stage looks out over the crowd and, seeing Avaria and Jim both pushing towards the giants, and the wizard reasonable close above them, invokes a blessing upon them. The beautiful priest with the glaive heads southwest across the rooftops and disappears from sight behind a tall building.
The closest giant unleashes a barrage of attacks against the shirtless man...
,
,
For all his bobbing and weaving, the man only manages to redirect one attack. After the two heavy blows connect he sways but is still standing. The two other giants, realizing that their current path is still blocked, duck down a nearby alley headed west.
Round Three
Graverattler moves 50' closer to the nearest giant, putting it in range for a close-ranged spell. "Riro Giant he kukupa, a ka wareware ki tona āhua kino."
The giant feels a spell coming over him and shakes it off, then steps forward and crumples into the form of a small harmless turtle. The bloodied and bruised swordsman drops to a seated position in relief.
Avaria's feet feel as if they are lightened, her speed picking up as she continues to move her way through the crowd. It felt a bit like trying to swim against the current of a slow but strong river. She shouts out a thank you to whoever had been the source of the magical effect, though the sound is lost in the hubbub the moment it leaves her lips.
Despite the crowd's resistance, she knew she was getting closer to whatever was happening a head. It was hard to believe giants of all things were attacking this sleepy little town.
Just a bit further, she encouraged herself. Time to prepare.
Avaria pauses to circular gesture with her free hand and chant an incantation she had learned from an ancient elven scroll.
"Energiat mystistä suojella minua!"
Energies of the arcane protect me!
As she speaks and makes her motions, a shimmering shield of force forms around her.
Once satisfied that she's not about to be bowled over by a giant's sneeze, she continues pressing forward through the sea of bodies.
ROUND 3 / Initiative 11
Jim decided not to resist the priest's enchantment as it washed over him, and felt a familiar energy and shift in his perception as it empowered him to move much faster than normal. His approving smile is quickly replaced by a wince, however, as the giant in front of him suddenly disappears, no doubt the victim of one of the many spellcasters in the fray. At a glance he notices no more foes in view, though given the initial volume of airborne architecture there must be more lurking somewhere nearby.
Death and damnation! We gotta get to a more advantageous vantage, ‘n’ quick!
Jim intones a throaty arcane susurrus…
"Pánrào dào chūntiān xíngdòng bàgōng."
His incantation complete, Jim heads at his enhanced speed through the crowd to the nearest low building, at which he takes a mighty bound in an attempt to gain the rooftop.