People have been up for hours, several merchants have set up tents to vend their wares of food, clothes, local crafts, souvenirs, and beverages. Others folk have arrived early to gain positions near the podiums and the tables beyond. Tables loaded with a picnic buffet ready for the congregation after the ceremonies. The Swallowtail Festival begins promptly as scheduled, and the turnout for the opening speeches is quite respectable. A stage has been set up in front of the cathedral and a woman with short auburn hair stands in the center. Behind her sit four wooden chairs, three of them occupied. The square before the church is crowded now, the women loading the tables and the merchants hawking their goods join other locals and travelers as Mayor Deverin walks on the stage. As the crowd notices her, the chatter begins to die down and eyes turn to the stage. She smiles and begins to speak.
“Good morning everyone.” The attractive and personable woman welcomes the crowd with her usual friendly attitude. Her excitement is obvious and proves contagious as she welcomes visitors and locals alike. “I see everyone’s arrived. Even Larz Rovanky has left off tanning hides to be here. I’m sure his workers are glad it’s not their hides getting tanned, at least not today.” When the chuckles died down and Larz stops glowering past a reluctant smile, Mayor Deverin continues.
”It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day, and I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. As Mayor, I’d like to extend welcome to you on behalf of the town. I hope you all are enjoying your stay here in Sandpoint and I sincerely hope that you're having a wonderful time. Our town has much to offer and I hope we can consider you as new friends. Spend some time in Sandpoint and you’ll grow to love it like we do. And even if you don’t stay long, spend your money while you’re here!”
Several of the merchants give a vigorous applause, and the Mayor lets the crowd settle before continued over the remaining chuckles. “And to all of the old faces I see, thank you for coming and thank you for everything that each of you has done to keep this town strong. Thank you especially for all the time, sweat, and love you've put into building this fine cathedral. Sandpoint didn't seem complete without a church. We've always had heart. The true heart of Sandpoint is you, her people. But now we have an expression of that heart, and we built it ourselves!”
"Anyway, I can smell the lunch our tavern keepers are cooking already. A round of applause to Ameiko, Garridan, Cracktooth, and Jargie! I'm sure Father Zantus can spare an extra prayer that they don't burn anything before we get to eat it." More cheering erupts: the enticing aromas drifting over the crowd are overwhelming. "Now, since you have three more of us to stand there through, I'm going to sit down. Today as mayor I am declaring a town order to have fun! This is my favorite time of year!"
The crowd responds with a roar, and its a while before the Mayor could continue over the applause. “Without further ado, let me welcome our dutiful Sheriff, Belor Hemlock to the stage!” She indicates a dark-skinned, bulky man, clearly of Shoanti descent, wearing his armor and armed with a prestigious looking sword. Sheriff Hemlock nods and steps forward onto the stage.
"Thank you, Mayor. First off, let us have a moment of silence."
He bows his head and begins speaking, "Let us remember the memories of those friends and family members who lost their lives in the tragic blaze that made our new cathedral necessary. Cherish those memories and may the blessings of our Gods see them happy and well in the Afterlife." He raises his head and stands in silence for a moment scanning the crowd.
"Over the next three days all instances of wrong-doing will be dealt with swiftly and to the fullest extent of the law. No exceptions. As the sheriff of Sandpoint, I, Belor Hemlock, would also like to welcome everyone to enjoy themselves today, and you may or may not be aware of the planned bonfire at the beach tonight... it looks to be a promising festival. Do trust that I will be monitoring the level of safe conduct late into the evening. I am trusting our fun will lean to the side of caution. If you are a militia member, remember where your duties lay, and help Sandpoint keep the peace. Thank you." With that the sheriff steps back awkwardly and beckons with his hand, for the next speaker to approach.
The next speaker is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; he is brightly dressed, sports a well-groomed goatee, and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the day. As he reaches the center stage he loosens his collar a bit, winks into the crowd and starts to talk:
"Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory. Don't worry I doubt there will be any fun for you to stress over today. If things get out of hand you can ask Ameiko to take the stage and put us all to sleep with one of her stories." The crowd responds with a combination of chuckles and offended heckles.
Without a beat Ameiko shouts from her merchant tent "What about the story of your last flop at the theater? I'm almost done with my newest ballad, I call it Cyrdak the Unimpressive! Who wants to hear?"
The crowd responds with laughter and cheers. Amieko can still be heard shouting over the crowd "Your secret boyfriend helped me come up with the name!"
Cyrdak stands awkwardly waiting out the crowds laughter to die down, as it does Amieko sneers in one more one liner, "What a sleepy crowd Cyrdak!"
After the noise finally quiets Cyrdak continues with a forced smile as if nothing happened, "We can all agree, this is our time to celebrate! I know this town has been through some hard times, but we don't lay down easily. Look at what we've accomplished!" He motions towards the church. "And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? It's solid gold and comes with a singing choir standing nearby. It's no doubt our neighbors and nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. And to think they wanted nothing in return, but to enlighten us and our taxes for many lifetimes to come. But worry not about your coin purse, I've heard from father himself that the gods are getting their gold together to help pay for this place. But don't take it from me, let me hand the stage off to the man who's in charge here. But before I let him get things going I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to the new production of "The Harpy's Curse" starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera the harpy queen! It's all premiering tomorrow evening and continuing throughout the next two weeks at the Theater. Come see it, it will be fabulous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"
The crowd cheers as Cyrdak motions Zantus to the center stage. The young priest looks noticeably abashed at the reception set up for him. He wears the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck. He smiles and tries to calm the crowd down, eventually speaking when the applause has subsided: "Ahem, thank you. Thank you Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most Holy day."
“Today ushers in the new Fall season. A season I have always thought was named appropriately, as today was the day Desna fell from the heavens during battle with Lamashtu."
"Though all the world wept for the loss of the goddess, and of dreams, it is said that she survived. She was discovered, on the rocks of a beach, by a blind orphan, forgotten and cast aside by the rest of the world. Though the orphan didn't know who she was and could do little for the wounded goddess, she still stayed by her side, holding a vigil on the beach, tending to her as best she could and praying to her god, Desna. When other followers had abandoned Desna, the orphan empathized and held hope in her faith. Through the care of this orphan Desna recovered and revealed herself to the blind woman. In return Desna transformed her into an angel and offered the girl ascension to Desna's palace in the heavens. It is now there and forever that they shall remain."
Father Zantus motions toward the newly finished cathedral, the sunlight glittering off the stained glass windows. “This story reminds us that tragedy is just a setback, not an end. Though our place of worship was destroyed, and our previous priest, Father Tobyn, perished in the flame, we have preserved as Desna would desire, and built anew. Today is our day of new beginnings. Our day of ascension. Friends of Sandpoint, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"
An acolyte throws off the canvas of a nearby wagon, revealing thousands of swallowtail butterflies...the Children of Desna. He opens the cages and the crowd begins to applaud as butterflies flutter in every direction through the crowd, and eager children begin chasing them.
Moments later Father Zantus and the others step off the stage and the crowd begins to disperse to enjoy the festival. Numerous games and contests take place during the day, including sack races, games of hide-and-seek, weight-lifting challenges, balance beam contests, tug-of-war events, and the like. Lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s taverns. Each brings its best dishes. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder or the White Deer’s peppercorn venison.
Petsha will be spending most of his time inspired and awed by the cathedral to Desna. He stops and says a few prayers that his family's performance will go well, and future travels be blessed. Returning to the crowds, he spends most of his time pocketing unattended food and offering it to hungry children. Games of dexterity are his favorite, such as ring tosses and balance beams. He is constantly running back and forth between his family's performance and games, making sure nothing has gone awry.
Thorfinn arises fairly early and clears the piece of floor in the Rusty Dragon's common room he'd managed to get the previous night. The bright light of morning coming through one of the windows is like a dagger through his eyeballs, and ignites a pounding headache. A bit of food and more ale takes care of that, though, and he makes his way out into the crowd.
Luckily for those he encounters, his headache has abated, so the profusion of human elbows at dwarven head level does not send him into a homicidal fury. The speeches are mercifully short, considering what the smell of food is doing to his attention span. He listens quietly and with an attitude approaching reverence as the priest speaks, but after the first look at the cloud of swallowtail butterflies he shrugs and goes back to standing in line for food. As one lands on his hand, though, he pauses to look at it closely. Amazing...it's like a flying jewel. I would love to see what a competent dwarf crafter could do with this design. Smoky quartz, topaz, and perhaps lapis? He twitches his hand and the insect flits off. "Hmph." But the twinkle in his eye as he turns his attention to filling the plate in his hand belies the gruffness in his voice.
After more food and ale, he'll go looking for the tug-of-war, and any contests that seem like they'd reward good hand/eye coordination.
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Feeling most at home amongst the peoples of the harbor, Chimaeryus finds a dark drinking establishment, and watches the people come and go.
I hope the festivities last through the night, I wish my eyes would not torture me so.
Chimaeryus keeps to himself, and just watches the hustle and bustle and the crowds of his chosen establishment.
I need to get to Magnimar, I wish the boat would not have stopped here for this blasted moth festival
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Ioxeia rises early, as usual, and takes a moment in her room at the White Deer to think about how best to arrange her schedule around the festival. Although she is not particularly devoted to Desna, it would be ungracious to ignore the Song of the Spheres on one of her own festivals, so she decides to make a point of at least stopping by. As she gathers her things for the day's work, she decides that, given the crowds, it would be best to adjust her morning exercises. I'm sure there will be too many people - and children especially - roaming about to really do any bow-work on the beach today. Nonetheless, she hangs her rapier from her hip, and slings her horned shield on her back, feeling a boost of confidence as she does so. Her hand lingers over, but does not close on her helm, No need to be too formal - it is a holiday. The spear-dance, then. At least I won't be quite a walking arsenal.
Doing her part, Ioxeia watches the opening of the festival, keeping to the edge of the square, since she is armed and on her way to do some training on the beach. She is grateful that her mask makes it easier to conceal her lack of interest in the dignitaries' speeches and the bickering bards, which hardly suit Father Zanthus' efforts. Oh well- She makes a prayer to Desna for luck and guidance on her journey, thinking ahead to when it will be time for her to move on. For now, though, it's time for her exercises, and so she goes down to the beach.
It's easy for her to lose herself in the rhythm, moving from stance to stance, moment to moment, so Ioxeia is unsurprised to find it around noon when she feels like a longer break. She wanders back up to the festival, thinking she might as well take advantage of the innkeepers' competition, and unsure if she has enough time to return to her inn. She finds a corner where she can unobtrusively plant her spear while she gets some lunch, and while she tries to get into the spirit of things drifts towards any performers that catch her attention. Her eyes frequently flit back, though, to make sure no children look like they might hurt themselves by playing with her spear where she's left it.
dot
Gallus arrises early as he has trained to do since.. as far as he can remember. Grabging his glaive he heads out into the town curious to see what all of the commotion is about.
Gallus shakes his head as he wanders toward the temple, as people rush hear and there, he is impressed with how quickly he begins to see booths and displays being assembled seemingly despite the chaos all about.
As the speeches begin Gallus watches quietly from the back of the crowd, realizing that his towering frame might obstruct the view of others around him. He listens silently to the speeches and jokes of the speakers his face implacable. Someone watching him might think they were starring at a statue if it were not for the constant movement of his eyes observing the people around him.
Looking on as the butterflies are released a small smile finally creases his lips. As he watches the colourful insects flutter through the crowds he seems to relax his guard for a moment.
Starring at the crowd of people and the swirl of butterflies. I wonder what the priests of Asmodan would say about a sight such as this. They would call it blasphemy. Ah yes, only through the order and structure of Asmodan can we persevere and succeed. I wonder?
Shrugging his shoulders Gallus heads to the lines of people waiting to eat and patiently waits his turn. After getting a large bowl of lobster chowder and a hand of bread he heads to one of the tables ensuring that he is facing the crowd he leans his glaive against the wall of a booth where it is in easy reach and proceeds to enjoy his first good meal in many days.
Gabriel, having come to the festival to find work as an actor has been even more successful than he imagined. His unnaturally deep voice, combined with his young handsome face has landed Gabriel a variety of small parts in the various plays and skits that place along the day.
Gabriel manages to mangle more of his lines than he is entirely comfortable with, but generally does well.
Tuckered out by a morning of acting Gabriel wolf's down his lunch as fast as possible.
The burly dwarf makes his way through the crowd, cheerfully applauding at such skits as he happens to see, and incidentally noting anyone apart from uniformed guards who happens to be armed and armored. No giants here that I can tell, but armed strangers might have tales of such.
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Chimaeryus squints his eyes and reads the words "closed for Swallowtail festivities" on the tavern door.
damn.
He mutters to himself as he walks around, all of the hustle and bustle of Sandpoint makes him nervous
"Stupid moth carnival, well at least the food is free."
He chews his venison, the meat is a bit overcooked for his taste
It's dry, but spiced nicely.
Chimaeryus sits and attempts to listen to the conversations happening around him
"Tis out of spite, that lead you too your wicked ways. Tis not justice as you claim, but malice. And for your crimes you'll meet the hangman's noose"
"But Auntie Baltwin, surely the merchant's do not expect such tiring labor of their kids, even if it be good for them."
"Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells,
I'm a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells."
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After a bit of refreshment, Ioxeia reclaims her spear and carefully threads through the crowd, taking a look at what the merchants have to offer. She sees some wonderful horse brasses, and dreams, regretting her spree through the Mierani, and refusing to think about the mistake that was Riddleport. My grief, girl, don't be foolish. There's no point yet, and if you had kept a closer watch... But you can hardly afford to keep up a team at the moment.
She browses a bit further on, and has listened to an old harpist play through a set, when a deep voice filters through the background to her ears. The words catch her attention, so she lopes down to find a bard in Taldan garb declaiming. Tall for a human, he stands just an inch or so short of her height, so she feels less conspicuous beside him.
"Tis out of spite, that lead you too your wicked ways. Tis not justice as you claim, but malice. And for your crimes you'll meet the hangman's noose"
Beneath her mask, Ioxeia quirks a smile. She joins the audience in their applause, and while the bard sips a drink, sings out, carefully holding onto the tune with both hands,
Three things there be that prosper up apace,
And flourish while they grow asunder far;
But on a day, they meet all in a place,
And when they meet, they one another mar.
And they be these; the Wood, the Weed, the Wag:
The Wood is that that makes the gallows tree;
The Weed, that strings the hangman's bag;
The Wag, my pretty knave, betokens thee.
Now mark, dear boy- while these assemble not,
Green springs the tree, hemp grows, the wag is wild;
But when they meet, it makes the timber rot,
It frets the halter, and it chokes the child.
She moves off again. Well, it was certainly nothing to his work, but I had to say something.
With everyone finishing up their meals, and the day breaking into late afternoon/early evening the crowds settle down from the games and the abundance of wonderful food, mainly content on talking amongst themselves and shopping stalls. A few of the organizers of the festivities go around announcing that the consecration ceremony will begin shortly and try to huddle the masses back to the town square.
Desna's a bit flighty, but it'd be rude to miss the consecration. I'll just have to watch for elbows. Again. Thorfinn tries to get into the square quickly enough to be near the front, but if that isn't possible by the time he gets there he'll defer to others so he can be close to the outer edge.
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Unsurprisingly, more time has gone by than Ioxeia expected when she checks the sun's position in the sky with more than a cursory glance. She shakes her head as she notices some confident-looking people hushing others and encouraging them to gather together. I should have known, she thinks, but I might as well see it through.
She settles in to one side of the square, not quite leaning on the spear she holds almost against her back. Her eyes sweep across the gathering crowd, a silent challenge for anyone to encourage her to fall in with the rest. By instinct, now, she notes the approximate positions of any obviously armed people, whether officials, adventurers, or mere thugs, not because she's worried there will be trouble, but just because one doesn't train for combat on a small island without always thinking about one's own situation and how one might have to plan to get from here to there...
Gabriel will head to the town square, glad to have his lunch break extended further before getting back to work.
There is a general rowdiness to the crowd just from everyone's excitement for the consecration and the chatter of people talking about the festivities of the day.
A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun’s setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman’s scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises— high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.
Surprise Round:
Not giants, but bad enough. And none of these people are ready for a fight.... Unlimbering his axe and readying his shield, Thorfinn moves towards the singing goblins. "Hoy, личинки*! Over here!"
*
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Having turned to face the podium, Ioxeia wheels round when she hears the screams, but between her mask and distraction, all she sees is the disturbance in the crowd and then a glimpse of a dog's body between the parting groups of horrified onlookers. She tenses, but hesitates to plunge in before she can get a sense of what's going on, not wanting to get in the way of the frightened townsfolk.
Gallus instinctively brandishes his glaive at the first scream. Turning towards the goblins he rushes across the square.Beware! Goblins are attacking!
Gabriel finishes his peach, enjoying the special effects for a moment before realizing the danger.
Gallus charges the goblin with his glaive, bringing it down squarely across the goblins chest slicing him open and dropping him with the single swing.
The other two goblins respond one striking out at Gallus while the other moves to get a better position on him.
The blows go wide as Gallus evades them. The crowd runs in all directions trying to get out of the fight and into safety.
Chimaeryus calls upon his arcane power to blast one of the goblins with a missile of force. It slams into the creature unerringly, but does not drop him to the ground. Thorfinn draws his weapon as he curses at the goblins ready to join the battle.
Gallus feeling the spray of blood from the fall of the first goblin steps back bringing his glaive around for another strike. Unfortunately the cobbles beneath his feet cause him to overbalance and his swing misses high.
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Goblins! Ioxeia hears someone shout, as she notices a cluster of people drawing weapons rather than fleeing. A moment later she hears a string of words evoking magic into the square, and part of her mind immediately attempts to make sense of the spell. As she recovers from her distraction, various possibilities whirl through her head even as she unconsciously shifts to a flexible stance. I’ve no cantrip that would reach so far, Ioxeia thinks, even as she slips her shield from her back and onto her arm, tightening the strap that holds it in place. And there are too many in between to risk so long a spear-cast…
Having readied her shield, Ioxeia changes her grip on her spear for stabbing, and moves quickly towards the melee, alert for any goblins that break free or are foolish enough to provide a good target for a thrown spear.
Gallus moves back to take full advantage of his weapon. He swings the glaive but the goblin manages to maneuver out of the way of it's strike. However, as it moves up to attack Gallus he is not so lucky as Gallus takes the opportunity of his movement to strike out again, solidly landing his glaive into the goblin and dropping it to the floor. The remaing goblin continues to move up and attempt to strike at Gallus.
He has little luck with his attack. Ioxeia readies herself for the battle and moves up to engage the goblin.
Startled by the sudden appearance of goblins, Gabriel will fumble about for his crossbow, eventually drawing it.
Perhaps I should have gone to military school instead of acting.
Gabriel lifts his crossbow to his shoulder before realizing that that he has yet to load his crossbow.
Acting it'll have to be.
Gabriel strikes a dramatic pose, shouts in a deep, almost inhuman voice while covering the goblin and several feet behind him in gold dust.
Components V, S, M (ground mica)
EFFECT
Range medium (100 ft. + 10 ft./level)
Area creatures and objects within 10-ft.-radius spread
Duration 1 round/level
Saving Throw Will negates (blinding only); Spell Resistance no
A cloud of golden particles covers everyone and everything in the area, causing creatures to become blinded and visibly outlining invisible things for the duration of the spell. All within the area are covered by the dust, which cannot be removed and continues to sparkle until it fades. Each round at the end of their turn blinded creatures may attempt new saving throws to end the blindness effect.
Any creature covered by the dust takes a -40 penalty on Stealth checks.
Round 1:
Assuming nothing happens to prevent him from reaching a goblin, the dwarf advances into the fray, glowering at his ancient foes and shouting a dwarven war cry. His axe rises and falls with lethal force on one of the green vandals.
Gabriel draws his weapon and tosses out glittering dust all over the goblin.
While it covers the goblin, he doesn't seem to be too effected by it. The rest of the crowd gets out of the area finding places of safety. Thorfinn moves in and smacks the goblin with his axe, slicing through his shoulder and into his chest, dropping the goblin to the floor. With the crowd mainly hidden away the sounds of battle still ring throughout the town, although with less strength than before. You hear the noticeable sound of something thing or maybe some things coming from the NE near the newly built cathedral.
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Seeing the others have cut down the last goblin before she can close the distance, Ioxeia slows and dips her spear in salute. Before she can think of a proper introduction, though, she hears the approaching disturbance over the sound of what she concludes must have been a full-blown raid on the town. She jerks her head towards the cathedral, and wheels round to investigate, tersely announcing, "I think there's more coming!"
Gallus watches the goblin fall and turns towards the direction Ioxeia indicates. His glaive held at the ready he rushes towards the oncoming sounds.How did they get past the wall and the guards?
Gabriel will load his crossbow and head towards danger.