Once Shaedeen has reacquired her target, she calibrates its most likely future course and then takes a circuitous route to get ahead of the person. Positioning herself at the mouth of a shadowy alley, she waits patiently for her target to approach, hands folded beneath her chin with the fingers interlocked except for the index fingers, which point upright, seemingly supporting the young woman’s full bottom lip. To passersby, Shaedeen appears to be deep in thought…and those thoughts may well be inappropriate or racy.
When Ratimir’s eyes meet her intent, unblinking emerald ones, Shaedeen’s fingers unclasp and move with disguised purpose. The right index finger points subtly in Ratimir’s direction while the left barely brushes the girl’s lips en route to her hairline, where all her fingers briefly pass before her eyes before seeming to brush aside some stray hairs in front of her face . And in the next instant the lady’s gone, melting back into the deeper shadows of the alley.
The alley appears to be empty except for some refuse. Pieces of trash are scattered here and there on the ground. The only place a person might possibly be able to hide here would be in or near the old rain barrel or low stack of wooden crates against the outer wall of some building.
The alley appears to be empty except for some refuse. Pieces of trash are scattered here and there on the ground. The only place a person might possibly be able to hide here would be in or near the old rain barrel or low stack of wooden crates against the outer wall of some building. The small black boot seen sticking out from behind the stacked crates would seem to indicate that you've found the mystery woman.
"Games of luck? No, not with a harrow deck. The harrow is about fate, not luck. Of course, there might be luck in one's future—for instance, if after my predcition we met Serolt again only because this is a small town, that would be luck. But you see, through this draw", he says, showing her The Marriage again, "the harrow tells me that our next encounter won't be due to chance. This card represents a reunion... an alliance, if you will. And what the harrow tells me, comes to pass, even when my comprehension of its warnings arrives too late. That's why I treat it with such deference. Wouldn't you do the same to a wise, all-knowing advisor?" he asks rhetorically. Ratimit puts the deck carefully away and, when he looks up, his eyes lock with those of a teenage girl standing at the edge of an alleyway. Ratimir is surprised to see a girl of Chelish descent sending out Sczarni signals so deftly. There's no mistake: the messages are for him.
Ratimir hesitates for a moment, and then turns to speak to Vanea. "Vanea, why don't you go on to the archery tent, and I'll be right behind you? Maybe it was the dwarven ale, but I need to make a brief stop, and that alley almost literally invites me", he explains, pointing to the now empty alleyway, with Shae having retreated into the shadows. He winks at her while excusing himself.
Ratimir walks slowly down the alley, his senses sharp and ready for an ambush. Then, he sees the tip of a black boot sticking out of the girl's hiding place, and smiles in amusement. That's who they send after me? He stops next to the crates, leans on them and knocks twice on the wood. "Speak, girl."
”We must not be seen talking--pretend to be relieving yourself,” the hiding girl whispers in a husky voice, speaking in Varisian. “The Sczarni want you to rejoin the family, and I don’t think they intend to take ‘No’ for an answer. You should flee Sandpoint immediately. If you choose to head north...I’d like to accompany you.”
Haelvor smiles and looks at the other man. "If you don't want that," he says, pointing at the half-eaten rat, "There's a man over there who'll put it on a stick and roast it."
Zhu chuckled, both slightly embarrassed and relieved.
"Though my travels have me somewhat jumpy, I'm not quite that desperate for sustenance!"Zhu will extend his hand in greeting.
"Well met, friend. I am called Zhu. This is my first time in Sandpoint, are you a local?"
Ratimir raises an eyebrow and speaks in a hushed tone. "Look, girl, you're not telling me anything I don't already know. I know those men—some of them too well—and trust me, I wouldn't have returned if I were afraid of my old friends. I appreciate the warning, but I'll take my chances: I've seen them, after all." Ignoring Shae's advice to be discreet, he sits on the top crate and looks down, getting a clear picture of the Chelaxian girl. "You, on the other hand, seems to be looking for a way out, or you wouldn't be here trying to convince me to escape just so you can tag along. So, What's your story?"
Shaedeen scowls at being called 'girl' multiple times by Ratimir but doesn't offer her name. "I had a falling out with a member of my family in Magnimar and the road brought me to Sandpoint. My new father here and the job he assigned me are not to my liking. Now he commands me to seduce or otherwise lure a broken man like you into an ambush, but instead of offering you up as a sacrifice I offer you a warning. You owe me! We cannot defy Vhi...our lord. The only possibility of survival is to flee! Can you not see this?"
Zhu chuckled, both slightly embarrassed and relieved.
"Though my travels have me somewhat jumpy, I'm not quite that desperate for sustenance!"Zhu will extend his hand in greeting.
"Well met, friend. I am called Zhu. This is my first time in Sandpoint, are you a local?"
Haelvor accepts Zhu's hand.
"I'm ... from Magnimar. Previously. But now I'm local. My name is Haelvor. Haelvor Thawne. Where were you, before here?"
The man seems friendly. And fairly exotic. Haelvor glances nervously over Zhu's shoulder, looking for Master Quink, conscious he has left him waiting.
Ratimir rolls up his eyes and snickers at Shae's ultimatum. "Oh, I owe you, do I? That's wonderful." When he looks back at her, his face is dead serious. "Listen. If I didn't know your 'father', I'd say you're just a spoiled child who bails when things don't go her way. However, since I know him, I'll throw you a bone. I don't know how someone who's not even Varisian gets dragged into the 'family', but I'm guessing it's either out of necessity, or plain stupidity, like in my case. Either way, getting out is the smart choice." He scracthes his unshaved chin and goes on. "I won't say they don't bite as hard as they bark, 'cause they do; but I'll tell you this: if you run away every time, you'll eventually run out of places to hide."
Ratimir hops off the crate and goes on. "So, if you want to stay your ground and pass them your message, you go set up that ambush and let me know. Only, this time, we'll be the ones ambushing." He looks back over his shoulder and ends by saying "You found me once, I assume the second time will be easier."
With these final words, Ratimir steps out of the alley and heads to the archery tent, hoping to catch up with Vanea soon. Someone to watch out for, and also to extend a hand to.
"I grew up in The Flowering Lotus monastery. It's...a bit hard to get to. Somewhat between here and Magnimar, through a mountain pass. I'm sorry, am I keeping you from someone?"
Haelvor
Peering over the monk's shoulder, Brodert seems to have found himself caught in conversation with a man who is even older than he is if it could be believed. A long time friend of Quink's, Chask Haladan - owner of the Curious Goblin bookstore - seems to be as dour as ever, but whether it is because of a genuinely bad day or because he is simply outside and away from his books, it is difficult to tell.
Shaedeen continued to scowl as Ratimir spoke but kept her petulant tongue in her mouth. Long after the Varisian had departed the alley, the girl spoke aloud in a whisper. "I've found you like four times already this day...and it feels more like a hundred."
The rogue had to admit she was wrong in her preliminary assessment of Ratimir--this was no broken man. Once, perhaps, but now it appeared that he'd picked up the shattered pieces of his old life and built a new one.
Shae considered his offer to turn the ambush into one of their own. That seemed like madness, especially if Vhiski himself was to be there--a good possibility. Still, there were pearls of wisdom in the man's words: she couldn't keep running forever, yet she dared not stand up to Vhiski on her own. There seemed to be no way out.
Except, perhaps, for lies and deception. She could tell her lord that Ratimir, already smitten with the elf-blooded songbird, had resisted her wiles and thus avoided walking into the planned trap. A reasonable lie, yet one she feared Vhiski would see through. How harsh would the punishment for failure be in this case? Shae simply didn't know.
Feeling rather numb and rudderless, the girl slipped out the other end of the alley when it appeared safe to do so, pondering her next--perhaps last--move.
Serolt
At the news of Derec's passing, Daviren's face falls slightly. "I am truly sorry to hear of your loss, Serolt of the Shiikirri-quah. He was a good man, and one of the finest hunters I've had the pleasure of meeting. Come see me at the stables in a couple of days, and I will have what was promised to your uncle ready for you." He clasps arms with Serolt and nods at the Shoanti's before turning his attentions back to the passers by, leaving the archer to continue through the festival.
The archery marquee stands at the edge of a wide street leaving the marketplace. A mountain of a man stands attending the tent, while a beautiful waif with red hair almost as rich as Vanea's sits next to a Bartel filled with arrows, her lips pouted and her expression bored.
A young lad stands behind a white line painted on the cobblestone, a longbow and two arrows in his hand. He shoots the arrows down the street towards a blackened silhouette of a demonic winged horse rearing up, with two sets of red and white concentric rings painted - one on its back flank and one on its chest where it's heart would be. One of the lads arrows pierces the flank target in the inner most white circle, but the other arrow narrowly miss the heart target.
The red-haired girl stands up, brushes her skirt of dust, and walks down the street to collect the arrows. The mountainous attendee collects the bow and provides the lad with a cheap token and addresses the crowd. "So, who of you will be the next to face the Sandpoint Devil? Five sparks for two arrows, shoot both of the targets to win!"
All characters
The town's bell chimes richly through the air, sounding an hour before noon, and an hour before the Releasing ceremony. A cart with what appears to be two closed crates is wheeled down Festival Street and set up near to the centre of the marketplace, a starburst patterned sheet covering them as best they can. Once wheeled into position by an acolyte of the cathedral, a pair of guards position themselves next to the cart to keep it safe for the next hour until the ceremony.
At the news of Derec's passing, Daviren's face falls slightly. "I am truly sorry to hear of your loss, Serolt of the Shiikirri-quah. He was a good man, and one of the finest hunters I've had the pleasure of meeting. Come see me at the stables in a couple of days, and I will have what was promised to your uncle ready for you." He clasps arms with Serolt and nods at the Shoanti's before turning his attentions back to the passers by, leaving the archer to continue through the festival.
He clasps the man’s hand firmly. ”Thank you Daviren. I shall see you in a few days.” What will I do until then? the big man wonders as he walks over to the archery competition.
He pays the five coins, and samples their bow - testing the string. If it’s decent, he gathers the arrows he’s given, and hopes they’ll fly true. He tries to keep the town’s bells tolling from ruining his shots.
Erastil guides my hand!
The Shoanti smiles at his attempts, pleased that he didn’t do anything foolish in front of the crowd. He looks for his two new friends, wondering if they were watching.
Haelvor feels, suddenly, somewhat guilty. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Here. Let me introduce you." He nudges Zhu in Brodert's direction, while keeping an eye on the books for sale today at the shop. "Master Quink, Master Haladan: this is ... Zhu. From The Flowering Lotus Monastery. Between here and Magnimar. In a mountain pass. Sir Zhu, this is Master Quink, my sage companion and friend, and this is Master Haladan, who owns this fine bookshop, the best shop in town, I should say."
He pauses, not knowing what to do next. Then bows. Then clicks his heels. And bows again.
Zhu Thousand graciously, shaking the hands of each elderly man.
"It is in honor to meet you both. I was unaware that I had come into town on the day of the festival, but I am rather glad for it. Are you enjoying the festivities, gentlemen?"
I wonder why he's so rude with me... Does he think I'm afraid to go in a dark alley with him? No... he doesn't seem in a playful mind anymore. Perhaps he remembers his wife? Maybe that was one of her favorite spot in the town...Who cares? The past is done, and won't come back. We all have our ghosts.
Vanea walks casually towards the bow game, but is soon bored.
So she drifts aimlessly between the stalls, looking for someone to have fun with.
Haelvor and Zhu
Brodert nods in greeting to the young monk. "Good morning to you, Sir Zhu of the Flowering Lotus. It is a lovely festival this year," he says. "Yes. Much larger than the last few years. The consecration of the new cathedral seems to be a bigger draw than almost anything else," Chask responds in agreement.
Brodert smiles from underneath the bushy moustache. "I ran into Chask just now and he was about to offer to lose again at dragonchess. Tell me lad, what was it that caused you to run off so quickly? Is everything alright?"
On his way to the archery stall, Ratimir is unable to find Vanea. Upo arriving, however, he spots a red-hairde girl from the distance, and heads her way; just a he is about to call out to her, the girl turns around. It is not Vanea; instead, it is just a local girl who is working at the tent, handing out arrows to participants. He sees her give Serolt a couple of arrows, and witnesses the Shoanti's attempt at the prize. Ratimir is not surprised to see the man hit the bullseye right in his first shot. He sees Serolt looking around the crowd after the shots, and suspects the Shoanti archer might be looking for him and Vanea.
"Hah, cleaning up the shelves, just as I predicted! With an aim like that, you'd probably catch the real Sandpoint Devil, too," Ratimir says teasingly, while approaching Serolt.
Haelvor smiles back, appreciative of Brodert's concern. "I, um, tried to pick a fight with a cat, which was covertly consuming its lunch. That's how I met Sir Zhu, here. That was our taste of adventure for the day, it seems."
"Hah, cleaning up the shelves, just as I predicted! With an aim like that, you'd probably catch the real Sandpoint Devil, too," Ratimir says teasingly, while approaching Serolt.
Serolt smiles, "Just lucky." he hands the bow back to the pretty young woman running the show.
He looks at Ratimir, "What happened to Vanea? She find a better man?" he jokes.
"I was going to see what the bells are about - want to join me?" assuming nothing further presses against the Shoanti's time, he drifts over to the cart and wonders what the releasing ceremony is.
Will there be a hunt? He shakes his head, but wonders what these 'civilized' folk do for high entertainment.
Vanea wanted to know-before everyone, of course, what would be the point otherwise?-what was in the cart...
So she approaches it carefully
Serolt and Ratimir
Approaching the cart with the starburst sheet draped across the crates, one of the guards steps in front of the pair. "You can't come any closer, sirs." As Serolt query's the cart's purpose, the young clergyman hops off the cart and walks over. "It's alright, Merran. They are only asking questions," he says to the guard before turning to the Shoanti and the Varisian. "The cart is here to be used for the Releasing - I wouldn't want to reveal the surprise, but I can assure you it is a wonderful ceremony. Father Zantus will be telling the tale of Desna's fall and return to the heavens in the Cathedral square soon, if you wish to watch for yourself."
Given that the butterfly is used as the holy symbol of Desna, it is safe to say that these butterflies are to be used in a holy ritual to the goddess of dreams, fortune, and travelers.
Haelvor and Zhu
"Ahh, I see," Brodert chuckles, shaking his head lightly. "Well, perhaps there will be more chance for adventure later on in the day. I believe that Father Zantus will begin the Releasing ceremony soon - the mid-morning bell has already sounded. Chask, shall we get that quick game in before the ceremony? It should not take me long to beat you soundly like the last time we played."
The other older gentleman chuckles mirthlessly. "Oh, I remember. But I think you might find me more of a challenge this time," Chask retorts, reaching down to a medium-sized case and opening it to reveal a tiled board with a raiseable glass sheet. He sets the opened case onto a nearby crate and both he and Brodert start to wordlessly set the pieces up - carved wooden pieces depicting a human battlefield, and a set of dragon-shaped pieces set on the glass pane.
"You both do not have bore yourselves by watching a pair of old men play chess," Brodert says cheerfully. "If you would rather run ahead to get to the Cathedral early before the ceremony begins, we'll catch up with you eventually. We have seen more Releasing ceremonies than you can possibly imagine."
Zhu smiled, finding himself enjoying the company of the learned men.
"As I have never seen a releasing ceremony, I believe I'll heed your advice, good sir! I look forward to speaking to you later. Hopefully I won't chase any cats before then."
Approaching the cart with the starburst sheet draped across the crates, one of the guards steps in front of the pair. "You can't come any closer, sirs." As Serolt query's the cart's purpose, the young clergyman hops off the cart and walks over. "It's alright, Merran. They are only asking questions," he says to the guard before turning to the Shoanti and the Varisian. "The cart is here to be used for the Releasing - I wouldn't want to reveal the surprise, but I can assure you it is a wonderful ceremony. Father Zantus will be telling the tale of Desna's fall and return to the heavens in the Cathedral square soon, if you wish to watch for yourself."
Serolt takes a step back and tenses up when the guard rushes forward, but settles back down off the balls of his feet as the clergyman speaks.
"Thanks, we'll check it out." He moves off and looks for a good spot, not too near, to watch the festivities and protect Regin a little from the crowd. Maybe a nearby building, alleyway, something.
"What happened to Vanea? She find a better man?" he jokes.
Ratimir looks at the crowd and grins. "Quite possibly! There are plenty around," he replies humorously.
"I was going to see what the bells are about - want to join me?"
"Why, of course! The bells mark an hour to noon, when we finally get to watch the the best part of the festivities. You'll understand why we call it 'The Swallowtail Festival'—it's really a sight to be seen! But I won't spoil it for you, so you might as well ask someone else what the whole thing is about," Ratimir explains before handwaving the issue. "Anyway, let's go."
"Why, of course! The bells mark an hour to noon, when we finally get to see the the best part of the festivities. You'll see why we call it 'The Swallowtail Festival'—it's really a sight to be seen! But I won't spoil it for you, so you might as well ask someone else what the whole thing is about," Ratimir explains before handwaving the issue. "Anyway, let's go."
Serolt nods smiling, but the blank look on his face tells another tale.
He follows Ratimir gamely, figuring if he knows this much, he'll know the best spot to watch as well.
Finding a good spot, Ratimir sits by Serolt's side, pulls out a loaf acquired earlier in the Festival, breaks the bread and offers half to the Shoanti. "You seem to have been caught by surprise by the celebration. If not the festival, what brings you here?"
Haelvor is torn between watching the game and going to the celebration, but considers his manners. "Friend Zhu, perhaps I could accompany you to the ceremony. I would like to hear more of this monastery. We can agree to ignore any cats on our route."
Finding a good spot, Ratimir sits by Serolt's side, pulls out a loaf acquired earlier in the Festival, breaks the bread and offers half to the Shoanti. "You seem to have been caught by surprise by the celebration. If not the festival, what brings you here?"
Serolt sits and accepts the bread, taking out a little beef jerky and passing it back to add to their bounty. He doles a little of each to Regin as well, in small amounts. He plays with the cat a little as well, with a free arm, while he chats.
"Oh, that man I spoke to back there is Daviren Hosk. He owns the Goblin Squash Stables. I'm just here collecting a debt from him to my Quah. I suppose I'll be moving on then. Haven't really thought about it much." He takes a long scratch on his arm for his play - and tries another tack with Regin.
He grins his easy grin, "You might say I'm walking the earth a bit. I've been out in the wild so long, it's nice to be among folks again. This is a good sized community too. Large enough to have, well, things like this. Yet small enough that the law is not over oppressive - you know what I mean?"
He taks a chunk of bread, tears off a little jerky, and eats them together in a large bite. He chews a thoughtful moment or two, and then asks, "You seem to know a lot of the local customs and events. You live around here or are you just a frequent visitor?"
Zhu nodded, happy for the companionship.
"I can't promise any exciting stories, sadly! Mostly hitting trees, jumping on rocks, spending hours stretching so you can do the splits because for some reason that's important. Still, I'm happy to share. Out of curiosity, how do you know those gentlemen?"
Haelvor looks down. How much to tell, how much to hide?
"I used to work in Magnimar. Master Quink was my supervisor there, for a while, before he moved here. After he left ... well I found my job less satisfying, and my new supervisor found reasons to be unhappy with me. So I followed the master here. Master Quink is a wise man, and - like me - is fond of books. And Master Haladan, as I said, runs the best bookshop in town. They spend a fair amount of time together, and often seem to bicker, but to my observation it's mostly for show. While they are enjoying one another's company, I enjoy theirs, and that of the books, though Master Haladan never lets me stay too long in the store itself."
Whoops. Too much?
Ratimir thanks Serolt and accepts the beef jerky. "As a matter of fact, I've spent most of my life on the road with my parents and uncles, siblings and cousins. I grew up in a caravan, jumping from one city to the next, but mostly in between; so I get what you mean about large towns and their excessive zeal." He takes a bite off the jerky and chews vigorously as he goes on. "But Sandpoint is a nice little spot on the map; I lived here for about seven springs a few years back, in a nice little shack on Whisker Street. It's the longest I've ever been in a single place. Of course, some things have changed since I last lived here, but not nearly enough that I can't find my way around."
Zhu scratched his chin, thinking.
"That sounds...pretty nice, actually. I've never had much time for literature, myself. Not for lack of desire, of course, but...ah, let's just say my training was fairly strict. It was a little hard to have motivation for learning when your body is almost too sore to move!"
"But there must be some form of literature that suits, surely? Books about foreign lands, or history. And if you're too sore to move, maybe the best thing to do would be to read a book?"
Zhu shrugged.
"Sometimes. Reading the works of certain philosophers was part of my training as well. They describe a state called mu. It translates to something like 'no mind'. It's supposed to be a state where you can not think, simply be, and react to things without bias or hesitation."
Shaedeen continued to do her due diligence regarding an escape north from Sandpoint. She made a bit of headway, but then a patron at the White Deer inn mentioned seeing a newly-arrived Shoanti in town, a hunter with a pet firepelt. This development was intriguing. The Shoanti lands were conveniently located in northern Varisia. Less convenient was the fact that the nomadic people hated Chelaxians and all things Chelish after a bitter war when the southern nation had sought to colonize the lands. Shae's skin was too pale to be a native Varisian, but with her dark wavy hair, penchant for gypsy dress, and learned mannerisms, she could often pass as one to the untrained eye.
The simple dress she currently wore didn't particularly scream "Varisian!" so the young rogue considered investing some of her savings into a proper disguise. There was some sort of clothing boutique in town, a few blocks north of the Kitten. Shaedeen made that her next stop.
Minutes later, Shaedeen stood at the door to Vernah's Fine Clothing. The question was: Would the place be open for business or was its proprietor out on the streets celebrating the Swallowtail Festival with the rest of the townsfolk...?
Ratimir thanks Serolt and accepts the beef jerky. "As a matter of fact, I've spent most of my life on the road with my parents and uncles, siblings and cousins. I grew up in a caravan, jumping from one city to the next, but mostly in between; so I get what you mean about large towns and their excessive zeal." He takes a bite off the jerky and chews vigorously as he goes on. "But Sandpoint is a nice little spot on the map; I lived here for about seven springs a few years back, in a nice little shack on Whisker Street. It's the longest I've ever been in a single place. Of course, some things have changed since I last lived here, but not nearly enough that I can't find my way around."
Serolt nods silently to his story. I know the life of a wanderer.
He waits, and watches for the display coming up. He wonders what it'll be like - a celebration in town. Probably less dancing and more drinking.
He laughs to himself and scratches Regin behind the ears.
Haelvor listens with interest to Zhu. "This mu state: which philosophy is this? It sounds like something from Tian Xia, or thereabouts? I would like to read about it."
Vanea walks away from the cart, just happy.
Then she stops, trying to figure what to do now. Waiting for the priest speech near the Temple? What would be the fun in that? And she has already seen the best part of it, the butterflies.
Maybe she should try to find a spot to bask in the sun? Or find something to eat?
Vanea was getting bored, and used minor magic to change the clothes color of random people.
Of course, black and yellow stripes, the colors of Calistria, were often used, but sometimes butterflies will appear on a man trousers, or a woman's blouse will become slightly see-through..
Zhu's eyebrows raised.
"Not many people would know that. You're quite correct though, the philosophy is Tianese in origin."
Shaedeen
Approaching Vernah’s Fine Clothing, a large store on Prickleback Lane, Shaedeen’s heart begins to sink as she notes that the door is firmly locked in place. She paces back and forth in front of the store, her face contorted in a fretful expression. The press of the crowd around her begins to flow towards Festival Lane, and she despondently follows the crowd making its way to the Cathedral square for the Releasing.
Vanea
As Vanea wanders the streets, changing the colours of people’s clothing, a lofty chuckle rises through the air. ”As talented with a cantrip as she is with her voice. Next you’ll be telling me those weapons at your hips are no mere props either.” Cyrdak Drokkus struts through the streets towards the beautiful Calistrian, dipping into a low theatrical bow before offering his hand to her. ”I was just on my way to the Cathedral square to watch the Releasing. Would you care to join me?”
Haelvor & Zhu, Ratimir & Serolt
Making their way to the Cathedral square, the two pairs of new friends are glad that they made their way earlier than the bulk of the crowds, securing themselves a good space with a view of the stage mostly unobstructed by others.
Everyone
The bell tolls to mark midday, and the Cathedral square is once again filled with people murmuring amongst themselves. The stage is empty except for the lectern, and Father Zantus can be seen making final preparations. At each side of the stage, a wagon with a pair of crates underneath starburst-patterned sheets sits attended to by an acolyte. After the final peal of the bells finishes echoing around the town, Father Zantus takes to the stage amidst a round of polite applause.
”It was on this day,” the priest begins, his voice booming across the crowd. ”Many centuries ago, that a battle raged across the sky between Desna and Lamashtu.Desna eventually succeeded, driving the Mother of Monsters from her domain, but not without cost as a portion of our Lady of the Spheres’ spirit fell from the heavens to earth.
“Injured and unable to move, the avatar was sure she would never be reunited with the rest of Desna’s soul and she began to despair when a young orphan girl, wandering the woods near her home, found her and came to her aid. Though the girl had been blinded from birth, she knew the woods she had lived in, and tended to Desna’s avatar with poultices of mosses and crushed herbs, and she selflessly gave up her own meal to the goddess to help return her to strength.
“Moved beyond words, the avatar of Desna offered the girl a single wish as thanks for her care. The orphan girl pondered her choices and said ‘As you can see, my Lady, I am blind and have never left these woods. I wish to ride the winds forever and see the world for the first time.’ The goddess smiled and kissed the girl on the forehead, transforming her into an immortal and beautiful butterfly, restoring her sight so that she could indeed see the world. The girl, now transformed into the child of Desna, flew around the avatar’s head for a moment before making her way out of the window and into the world, before closing her own eyes and returning to the heavens to reunite with the rest of her soul.”
The two acolytes at the wagons take the sheets from the wagon, exposing four crates to the world. Each of the acolytes unclips the latches on the crates and flips the lids, causing each of the crates to open like a flower and release tens of dozens of beautiful and multi-coloured Swallowtail butterflies into the air. The creatures spiral into the sky above the crowd in a riot of colour, eliciting exclamations of awe from many of the adult attendees, and squeals of delight from the children in the crowd. Looking around at the skyline, similar spirals of butterflies wind into the air from other places in the town. The sound of rapturous applause fills the air, with whistles and cheers accompanying the swift butterflies.
Father Zantus opens his eyes to look over the assembled crowd, his face locked in a wide grin. As the applause dies down, the priest continues.”This story is told so that we might remember always that even the most severe setback can be overcome and to never lose hope in either yourself or in the goodness of others. Even as the devastating fire from five years ago consumed our previous cathedral and took from us beloved family and friends, this new Cathedral stands as proof of this tale. So I implore you, on today of all days, do not allow despair to overcome you. Thank you all for attending, and may you walk in Desna’s grace.”
As Father Zantus turns to leave the stage, Mayor Kendra Deverin walks up the stairs and strides over to the older priest. She clasps his hands in her own and smiles, embracing the man in a hug before stepping past him and continuing to the lectern. "Thank you, Father, for a wonderful retelling of that tale. It never ceases to send shivers down my spine every year. I hope all of you enjoyed the Releasing this year, and will now join me in a feast that has been prepared by our local taverns and cooks. There are table spaces available all through the streets, and all of the food available is free for you to enjoy, so please put your coin purses away."
For the second time that day, the crowd begins to filter out of the square, and down into the streets where many of the stalls have sheets covering them and instead have tables and chairs lining the middle of the thoroughfares. Plates of food fill all the tables, with curry-spiced salmon, vegetable and chicken pies with a creamy gravy, fresh loaves of bread accompanied by plates of whipped herb butter, jugs of winterdrop mead, carafes of spiced red wine and fresh juices, all available to the attendees of the festival.
On the way to the Temple, Vanea answers Cyrdak with a seductive smile
In fact, the weapons on my hips are just concealing that my hips are my greatest weapons...Did you know the Temple has a cart with crates full of butterflies? I just checked earlier. And I would be happy to join you, just because you find me talented. I came to this town just to meet you so you could teach me to become even better at singing!
The shoanti listens to the speeches quietly. Nice! he thinks simply.
When the butterflies are released, he is indeed surprised and impressed. It must have taken some time to gather all those butterflies - or breed them maybe! He wonders at the possibilities.
Food!
Though he's eaten just a few hours prior, the thought of free food excited the big man."Ratimir, shall we sample the town's fare?"
He commands Regin to "Heel!" and, assuming Ratimir agrees, heads to a nearby table. He sits on the end so's to be close to Regin. If he can't manage that, he'll lean in, take some food as politely as he can, and stand, leaning against a nearby building, to eat.
Many of the seats get taken relatively early on in the feast, but there seems to be something of an unspoken rule of not spending more than about ten to fifteen minutes at a table. Serolt and Ratimir don't have to wait for too long for a few chairs to become free nearby.
A frustrated Shaedeen is often a foolhardy Shaedeen....
Knowing that the Releasing ceremony will draw the eyes of most of the yokels, Shaedeen positions herself behind what appears to be a visiting merchant and tries to cut his purse string an instant after the butterfly swarms are loosed. Even if I'm caught and tossed in jail, the girl figures, at least I'll have an excuse for not handing over that ex-Sczarni--his blood won't be on my hands.
As she slips away, Shaedeen gives the scattering butterflies one last glance. At least the frogs along the riverbanks will be eating well for the next day or two. Irritably, she can't help but think of the idiot blind girl in the story who'd so foolishly wasted her wish. Probably got swallowed by a boggard an hour after her transformation.
As she picks her way through the streets, loading up on foods that will last a while on the road, Shaedeen spies Ratimir speaking with the very Shoanti fellow she was seeking! Taking it as a sign from the gods, the girl throws caution to the wind and swoops in like a flitting butterfly.
"Greetings and a good day to you, sir!" the beaming girl says to Serolt. "If I might be so forward...are you planning to travel north once these charming festivities have concluded? If so, when? And might you be interested in a traveling companion?"
Not even waiting for the Shoanti's answer, Shae turns to Ratimir with less enthusiasm. "We meet again, Plan B," the young woman drawls. "Tell me more of your plan to stand up to the...family...especially the part of it that ends with us not being pincushioned with crossbow bolts or having our throats slit."
Zhu finds a spot and begins to eat, enjoying the free food.
Haelvor sits down next to Zhu. He hadn't been expecting the food, and despite his misgivings, and feeling somewhat nervous throughout the Releasing, is beginning to enjoy himself. He remains fascinated by Zhu's exotic background. "Did they eat much at the monastery? Or fast? Was the food itself oriental?"