Artyom looks at his companions and folds his hands in front of his face. "Very well. We will spend the day enjoying the festival. Afterwards, we will begin our expedition with the ruins in Sandpoint. Once we're done, we'll move to the next set of ruins. We'll stop at various towns for bed, food, supplies, and relaxation for time to time. Along the way, I'll be teaching Lelia about Thassilon and we'll do side investigations on her tattoo and the orcish ritual. Agreed?" He turns to Anaach. "Again, the offer still stands. I'm not pressuring you to join. Also, if you decline, may I ask what you plan to do after the festival?"
"I will need to get leave from the family, but I am willing to join your team, wizard."
Artyom returns the gesture to both Lelia and Weylyn. Turning to Lelia, he says, "You're welcome." Ricky chirps from his place. "Yeah! It would be nice to have someone to accompany us and talk to. Hey, Artyom. Thinking about making her your apprentice?" Artyom looks at his familiar. "I plan on helping and teaching her. I cannot accept her as my apprentice due to me being a novice as well."
Looking to Weylyn, he asks, "You have to ask your family for permission to leave? Must be a powerful and strict family. When I earned enough money, I left my family right away. Unfortunately, I left my sister behind, as well."
As always I am not sure of where I am going after this festival, I will inquire as to work in the town, and if I cannot find some, I will give further thought to the possibility of assisting you in your quest." he says after some thought....
"I am not asking permission to leave my mother and father like you seem to mean. I thought you said you were Varisian?"
Weylyn waits, hoping Artyom will show some sign of understanding.
Artyom looks at Weylyn before it becomes clear to him. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Why didn't I see it before? You work for the Sczarni. Do I have to worry about the Sczarni stealing my work or muscling in? Or possibly demanding that I pay a tribute?"
"Not if I get permission." he says simply, then a sly grin tweams the corners of his mouth. "And if you always make sure to treat me with respect."
Artyom slyly smiles back. "Well, I'm the head of the expedition. I'll treat you with respect if you do the same with me. It's a relief that the Sczarni won't be taking my research and findings. I'd rather keep my distance from shifty individuals. No offense."
"None taken, but I can bet and make a profit that you'll be glad of a shady character or two before this expedition is over."
Weylyn shrugs slightly and signals another round for the table.
Weylyn raises an eyebrow at Lelia. "So, you know Uncle Jubrayl? Well, let me tell you this, people ask his permission because life tends to get...complicated for those who do not."
He looks at Artyom. "I will speak to my contacts after the festival. It should be starting soon I think. What time is it?"
Weylyn looks around as if the answer would simply come forward of its own volition.
Anaach pauses on his way out the door, "a word of advice, sir, do not trust him..." he points at Weylyn, "I have dealt with agents of the Sczarni more than once... their ideas of ownership are not the same as civilized people."
Artyom says to Weylyn, "We'll see if I thank shady characters in time."
Turning to Anaach, he says, "We'll see about that. I'll say it again: if he wants me to trust and respect him, then he has to show the same to me. Again, no offense, Weylyn. But, I won't trust the Sczarni itself. Who knows? Maybe, in time, he'll change his allegiance from the Sczarni to us. Just some wishful thinking on my part. As a worshiper of Sarenrae, I believe that there's some form of redemption for everyone."
Once Anaach has left, Weylyn leans in. "He has worked with the family. HAHA!"
The Varisian adopts a more serious countenance. "You can trust me though. You are Varisian, and I will treat you as such."
Artyom nods at Weylyn. "Very well. Now, I believe we have a festival to... enjoy." He pays Bethana for his breakfast. He then packs his gear and heads for the door, Ricky on his shoulder. He opens the door for his newfound allies/friends.
As Lelia goes through the open door, Artyom looks at the Desna decorations. A frown takes over his face and his eyes narrow. 'This is going to be a long day.'
The four of you walk out through the doors and immediately are swept along with the crowd towards the cathedral. It seems that the whole town and more have gathered in front of the church. A good score of merchants have set up shop to vend their wares. A woman with short brown stands upon the stage that was being set up earlier. Behind her sit four wooden chairs, three of them occupied. As the crowd notices her, a hush descends and all eyes turn to the stage. She smiles and begins to speak:
"Welcome! As many of your know, my name is Kendra Deverin, the mayor of Sandpoint. It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. 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!."This last statements draws vigorous applause from several merchants. "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 in recent years. I see that even Larz Rovanky has torn himself away from work to join us today! It is truly a miracle from Desna herself!" There is quite a bit of laughter and many eyes are turned to a serious looking man dressed in all leather and wearing a sour expression on his face. Kendra waves to him and continues. "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! Without further ado, let me introduce your Sheriff, Belor Hemlock!"
A dour looking man wearing a worn breastplate and a longsword belted at his waist stands and walks to the center of the stage. His head is shaved and he his eyes are constantly moving about the crowd. Eostre instantly recognizes him as one of Shoanti birth. He shakes the Mayor's hand and begins to speak.
"Thank you Mayor. Even in the heat of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. And also let us not forget the souls that were lost five years ago. I would like you to all join me in a moment of silence to remember the lives that were lost in the fire that claimed our previous chapel on that fateful night." The Sheriff lowers his head and the crowd joins him, many of them quite awkwardly as the silence persists. After the moment is over, the Sheriff raises his head and begins to speak again."In remembering let us also not allow these events to repeat themselves. I am of the understanding that a bonfire is planned for tonight. I urge you all to observe caution during this event. I would like everyone to be aware that additional guardsmen have been added to each patrol detail over the next four nights. Members of the Sandpoint Militia have also agreed to add their support during the festival. As sheriff, I am confident that between the guards and the militia volunteers, we will be able to handle any disturbances that may occur during the festival." He clears his throat and smiles awkwardly. "And ummm... Enjoy yourselves. Let me introduce the next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprieter of the Sandpoint Theater!"
He nods to the crowd and walks back to his chair, passing the next speaker who is already on his way up to the center-stage. This man is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; he is brightly dressed, sports a well-groomed beard, 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. Now I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished," he says, motioning towards the church. "And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? Solid gold. I kid you not, our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. I think the Churches even chipped in a silver or two! I even heard a rumor that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Padre over here is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! 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 at the Sandpoint Theater and it is going to be fab-u-lous! 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 noticedly 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 is a day of new beginnings so without boring you with long speeches, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"
Mayor Kendra Deverin
Sheriff Belor Hemlock
Cyrdak Drokkus
Father Abstalar Zantus
Anaach watches the ceremony with simple awe, his hand occasionally brushing his coinpurse, or battleaxe, while the other holds his longspear.
Anaach pays special attention to the somber sheriff...
Artyom stands, only half-listening. When the priest starts the festival, the wizard looks around, keeping to his group and trying to find something that a wizard would excel at.
Weylyn leans close to Artyom and says, "You will find me near the busiest ale booth if you should need me."
With that the Varisian thief slides into the crowd and settles before a crowed ale booth. He watches the ebb and flow of the patrons for a time, then tests his luck and pulls a purse off an unsuspecting belt.
Anaach keeps his eyes on the crowd.... leaning against the stand nearby the stage....
Artyom makes sure Lelia is close and Ricky is on his shoulder. He tries to find any intelligence based games that he could participate in, All the while he and his familiar keeps any eye out for... certain individuals.
Weylin sits by the busiest tavern stall he can find, named the Hagfish, run by a gregarious man missing one leg. There are some games of cards going on, and many people looking to first of all find a drink. A nobleman dressed in blue with cropped dark hair makes his appearance and buys a drink. Weylin skillfully relieves him of his purse while his back is turned. Inside he finds the equivalent of 10 gold pieces, and a golden signet ring, which at a glance looks quite valuable.
Artyom spies a gnome putting on a magic show a little ways to the north end of town. He's drawn a crowd of children who are delighted to see him make various many-colored illusioned butterflies dance about. Cyrdak Drokkus, the man who spoke on stage just earlier, watches the performance with an earnest eye. Artyom could probably join in if he wanted to, and potentially out do the gnome. Several priests watch as well, and among them, Artyom sees his father, Menas.
Anaach notices that a game of tug-a-war has broken out in the mud. A powerfully muscled, bald man with a tattoo of a red hound on his shoulder continues to send man after man hurtling into the mud after ripping the rope from their hands.
Anaach notices that a game of tug-a-war has broken out in the mud. A powerfully muscled, bald man with a tattoo of a red hound on his shoulder continues to send man after man hurtling into the mud after ripping the rope from their hands.
Anaach steps into the line, trying not to draw too much attention to himself until he is next.
"I am Anaach Sklar-Quah. I will be your next opponent. Would you care to rest yourself before we test our strengths?" Anaach offers graciously; careful not to appear as though offering him the rest as an insult to his strength.
with an ease of long practice, he unslings his battleaxe and pack, leaning them against a nearby post.
he flexes his neck and shoulders loosening the bulging muscles and strips off his leather jerkin, his bronzed skin covered in light lines and dots.
The large man smiles."I'm fine, thank you. You look like a worthy opponent, Anaach. My name is Das Korvut, owner of the Red Dog Smithy," he says, showing off his tattoo. He than positions himself on the other end of the line, taking a supportive stance and gripping the rope tightly.
vs DC 22 Lose
Vs DC 11 Win
Vs DC 23 Win
Vs DC 6 Win
Vs DC 18 Win
Vs DC 7 Win
Vs DC 21 lose
Vs DC 16 lose
Vs DC 11 win
VS DC 21 lose
Total: Anaach 6 Des 4
The two men dig their feet into the ground and haul on the rope...
Des yanks, causing Anaach to slide towards the line, but Anaach recovers, hauling mightily, hand over hand, reeling Des in. His wrists, used to swinging the battleaxe over and over for hours, are near unparalleled in their strength.
Des however is not simply hauled along like a fish on a line. He surges back, forcing Anaach to halt his reeling. the two men strain, each struggling to get the upper hand.
Eventually Anaach draws the smith over the line.
releasing the rope to haul his opponent back to his feet Anaach grins. "You fought well Des Korvut."
Weylyn quickly pockets the purse and moves away from the stall in search of a priest of Desna: a Varisian if possible.
The walks over, not to happy to have been beaten. He grudgingly shakes Anaachs hand, but then good-naturedly says, "To you as well, Anaack. That strength of yours is something to be reckoned with. I would not want to meet you in a fight." He eyes the battleaxe leaning up.
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Lelia takes in the sight, wandering with the robed wizard. Picking up sweet treats at the same time as studying some people, and sharing it with Ricky, she notices as Artyom looks up as if looking for someone.
She still takes the time to speak with the townsfolk.
Her sweet smile accompanying each question and replying in the same tone.
Seeing his father, Artyom's eyes narrow and a scowl forms. He decides to walk up to the gnome and the crowd, making sure that Lelia is close behind. He watches the gnome for a bit before addressing his father. "Hello, Menas. Not a surprise to see you here." He looks around. "Where are the others? I'm assuming that you dragged them here to participate in the festival."
Menas turns away from his conversation, perhaps a little annoyed "They're all scattered about. Kaede has set up her tent and conducting harrowings. I thought you might want to see her."
Artyom looks and nods. "Indeed. I'll go see her, then. I find it odd that you don't have any criticism like before. That I shouldn't have gone to the Arcanamirium. That I should have been a cleric like you. To spend my time reading tomes and reciting prayers. Nor are you asking about why I'm here. What about Canan, Zeljka, and Ausk? No doubt, Canan will want to... catch up." He says the last part with disdain.
The walks over, not to happy to have been beaten. He grudgingly shakes Anaachs hand, but then good-naturedly says, "To you as well, Anaack. That strength of yours is something to be reckoned with. I would not want to meet you in a fight." He eyes the battleaxe leaning up.
"Not many seek to face my axe. Even fewer regret having faced it." Anaach says, wiping sweat off of his brow, once again frowning at the slight stubble on his head...
He redons his leather chest and bracers, slinging his pack back on
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She looks up at her mentor.
"Umm, I can make myself scarce if needed to. I'm sure I can find something interesting here to do while you go speak to your family. I mean uh..."
Lelia wonders how she's going to explain this to her mentor without insulting him of worse embarassing him in front of his family.
What would they?
Artyom looks at his pupil. "Nonsense. You're not bothering anyone. I'm sure you would like to meet my sister. Maybe get a Harrow reading. But if you wish to leave to partake on the rest of the festival, then you may."
"Artyom, I don't have time to banter with you right now. That can be saved for a time when I don't have other things I would like to do. The rest of them are scattered. If you hang around long enough, you should run into one of them." And with that he turns to talk to another priest stopped to watch the gnome's illusion show. The crowd seems to be growing larger.
Just then, a dark haired man covered in Varisian story tattoos trundles up to the Desnian Priest. His mouth falls agape when he recognizes the man, and Weylyn goes to one knee before him.
"Menas." the thief softly says. "I did not think to find your like here to today." He holds up the small purse or ill-gotten goods. "Please, accept this offering to ease the burden on Desna's chosen. Keep the family safe."
He makes the sign of the star, then stands.
Artyom's jaw sets. 'Of course. Always focused on the church. Why am I not surprised?' Seeing Weylyn hand him the purse causes his eyebrow to raise. He drags Weylyn some distance where they won't be heard. "So, Weylyn, what are you up to? I ask that you don't do anything to permanently embarrass or demean my family. I may not like the majority of them. But they're still family. We run a well hired caravan. If you do anything, that will not only severely cripple my father's standing, but my family's mode of living as well."
Before he leaves to find his sister, Artyom makes some gestures with his hand. He leaves, a smirk on his face. He turns to Weylyn. "A minor harmless trick, on the other hand, is perfectly acceptable. Especially if it only lasts an hour." If Lelia and/or Weylyn are still with them, he gestures them to follow with his cane before continuing on.
Not sure what is happening, Weylyn allows himself to be unceremoniously dragged off. Blank indifference gives way to hot, Varisian anger at the wizard's words.
"I will cripple your family if I do anything!? Why is it that I am up to something!? DO you think so little of your own people!? From what I've seen, I'm more part of your family than you are! And if you must know, I was donating to the Church of Desna to ease the burden on my family!"
He turn to leave, then turns back. "And do not think to put your hands on me again."
In a flourish of rage, Weylyn is gone: slipping into the crowd and disappearing in the waves of faces.
Artyom sighs as Weylyn leaves. Ricky lands on Lelia's shoulder and gives a sad chirp. Artyom turns and continues on his way. After a while, he addresses the subject. "Lelia. May I confide in you about something?"
Artyom thinks for a moment. "It's about what Weylyn said. That he's more part of my family then I am. The thing is... I didn't want to have a strained relationship with my family. It just happened. Things used to be great. Me, mom, dad, and Kaede. But then mom died. That's when things got tough. My dad basically forced me to become a cleric. I guess he didn't want me to follow mom's path and end up like her. He was very adamant about it. He would take any money that I saved for my tution at school. Said that it would be donations for the church and paying for upkeep for the caravan. I guess it was just his way of protecting me. Then he married Canan. Through that marriage, I got a new mom, an older sister, and, eventually, a younger brother. It was like he forgot about mom. You can tell that that was another strain on the relationship between me and him. Canan tried to bond with me. But, it just went nowhere. I'm sure though that she would try to reconnect with me as soon as she sees me. Then there's Zeljka. In short, she doesn't care. Because of my profession and the fact that we're not related by blood. And Ausk. He's like the son that my dad always wanted. Willing to become a cleric of Desna. I wouldn't be surprised if Menas made Ausk his heir rather than me. The only one that I still have a good relationship with is my twin sister, Kaede. She became a cleric; but still carries on mom's memory by focusing on divination and, eventually, becoming a Harrower. She has often tried to get me to open up. But despite all of that, I still care about my family. I don't know. I guess that it's a combination of seeing my family for the first time in five years and the fact that I've never actually worked in a team of strangers before." He gives another sigh before continuing the search for his sister. "Also, I didn't mean to be untrusting of Weylyn. It's just that life on the road has taught me to be wary of shifty individuals. For they will most likely jump you and steal your possessions."
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Lelia thinks for a moment, biting on her fingernail as she ponders what Artyom has just told her.
"I think my family is the complete opposite of yours. I'm a foundling of some weird ritual so I don't have any blood ties at all to them yet they took me in, raised me and taught me my letters like another daughter.
I had many mothers and fathers, grandparents, uncles and aunties yet they were never truly mine just as I was never truly theirs. Our relationship I think, as compared to yours was filled with their love and care.
They let me choose to be what I want and where I want to go. I'm sure that once all this is done and over with and I have found answers that I seek, I'll go back. The family that raised me."
Then a cheeky smile steals a solemn demeanour as she immediately retorts.
"I've never worked with complete strangers too!! Does that help? I'm guessing Weylyn does though."