"Thanks Miss Alma! I just arrived here yesterday to live with my uncle, Mirut Farso the carpenter. He's very kind, actually all of Sandpoint is so far."
Quiin really considers his next words, but decides to go for it.
"They'd be really proud of what you are doing here." He says, still smiling kindly at her.
James looks up at the Sherrif with regret. "I'd like to. Bows cost a lot though. Even a cheap short bow" like this the thought is unsaid "is nearly a year's money." James knew this from bitter experience. He'd managed to save about 300 coppers so far, over the last year. A bow, in the hands of someone who knew how to hunt, could pay for itself in a year. But who had enough cash lying around to buy something that cost nearly three thousand copper coins?
With a quick guilty look back at the people waiting he pulls out a sling. "I'd do better with this." he promises. "Can I have another go later?"
"Here." Quinn hands Isaac a pewter tankard containing something zesty. "Water with pepper and lemon, best thing to get the taste out."
"Go and do your best, kid. Remember, squash only one gobbo, I've got to have enough for all the would-be hunters."
Daviren takes a carpenter's armer from his array of tools. It's a long-handled, solid six-pound tool that has seen a lot of work.
"Ah, the new carpenter! Yes, sweetie.we're good folks in Sandpoint, mostly, huh, too bad, no luck with those tickets, but you still get two cookies..."
Quiin's words reach Alma as she's handing him two large buttery cookies, one with berries and one with caramel chips. Her face freezes in shock as a tear rolls down her cheek, until she manages to speak with a feeble voice. "How? You're new in town, and so young... how did you know? Do people still talk of him so much?"
Hemlock scratches his bald head. "Yes, bows are pretty hard to make properly, so they're not cheap. Tell you what, you can come practice at the garrison whenever you feel like, lend a hand and earn yourself one to hunt before spring comes."
"But a sling! That's a proud giantslayer's tool, boy, go ahead!"
The Sheriff leaves James alone for a bit, handing out bows to the other challengers and pointing them towards the targets.
Taking the tankard, Isaac uses about half to purge the foul stuff from his mouth and spat it onto the cobblestones before greedily chugging the rest to settle his gut. The relieved sigh he lets out seems too big for his short frame. Wiping his mouth with a baggy sleeve, he hands the tankard back
"Thank you, Mr. Quinn," the odd boy says before rushing off into the crowds again. A few moments later, he skidded to a stop near Koya's blanket. Looking around nervously he stalked over like a cautious cat. The Professor had views about fortune-telling but the Professor was not around.
"H-hello, Ms. Mvashti," he started nervously. She was easily the oldest person he knew of and always seemed to know far more than she let on.
Quiin had really considered his words. Unfortunately, he is not very good at considering.
Uh, I'm sorry miss, I misspoke, got to go" he stammers as he runs off with the two cookies.
Feeling quite ashamed that he couldn't even go two minutes of walking about his new home without freaking someone out, Quiin casts about for something to take his mind off of it. Seeing the harrow deck, he figures that the old woman reading it can't possibly consider him weirder than herself, and heads over to stand behind the pale boy who is waiting for a reading.
"Off! Okay, I can do this..."
The hammer was heavy, but he could lift it. Now Almos had to do was figure out how to swing it the best way to get a really good hit! Thinking about what he knew he decided to swing it around in a circle a few times, just like he would his sling when skipping rocks, and bring it to bear against the side of one of the pumpkins, cracking it open and slinging pumpkin bits all over the place!
"Thanks Sherrif" James smiles, and hides a cringe 'Twelve hours of daylight. By the time I've done chores, helped out on the farm, walked out to town - dragging Sammy, walked back and done six hours at school I've got about an hour left to "lend a hand". Nice offer though - I'll have to see if I can swing it.'
+1 for studied target
-1 for sling stones
Assumign 10 is hit, 19 (23-4) is half inch from centre
- miss
- hit
- >=20
- hit
- CRIT
- hit
- >=20
- hit
- hit
- hit
- miss
With shaking hand James pulls out the pouch with his best pebbles. The result of days of careful observation they're smooth and hard - almost as good as proper bullets. Almost.
His first stone slips out of the sling as he hurls, and James forces himself to take a deep breath. The next is a square hit, and he gains confidence. The next goes closer than any arrow he'd launched to the centre, and in quick succession he puts another seven into the target - one so close to the centre it looks like an inner ring.
Giggling, Sammy takes off into the crowd. The sights, the smells, the people are a lot to take in, even though she knows most of them it's rare to be around them all at the same time in the same place. When she sees Alma Avertin's stand she beelines for it, reasoning that cookies are never the wrong choice. "Hi Ms. Avertin! Can I have a ticket please?"
Koya smiles at Isaac while shuffling her Harrow deck. "Ah, now I could ask you if you want your fortune told, but I'd be a lousy fortune-teller if I did, wouldn't I? Let's see..."
Quickly, nine cards are spread in front of her, and her gaze loses focus as she foretells. "Marriage and Wanderer in opposite, Locksmith in partial. Born from discord, a sinister return unlocks fateful events."
The woman's gaze clears, exiting her trance and returning to Isaac. "The Harrow is often obscure, but what you read in the response is the most important part of it."
'Wow. Not going to do that well again...' James realises, but puts on a confident face "Yeah. Much better. Well, thanks Sherrif, I'll be back for the Melee bout, and when everyone's had a go at the archery!"
James moves at speed. He has a go at the balance beam - where he does alright, though adrenaline leaves him too impatient for such precise work.
He spots Shayliss, and spends enough moments internally debating talking to her that she's moved on before he's decided.
Finally he heads over to smash goblins, interested in the spectacle of Álmos spinning a hammer round and round in a rapidly clearing circle in the crowd.
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Isaac studies the cards seriously. "That's not very precise," he noted finally. "Is there a way to cross-reference a secondary source or determine a timeframe?"
Plopping down on the dirt in front of Koya's blanket without regard for the state of his clothes, he tapped the arrayed cards in the order she had interpreted them. The strange boy looked up at the old lady from under the brim of his cap and started chasing down the ideas with a certain indefatigable logic. It would almost sound sneeringly superior from anyone else but Isaac seemed honestly enthusiastic about this new puzzle.
"I mean, I understand the transliteration of symbolic archetypes to relevant events but without a definite subject for any of the three parts, there is not an easy starting point for interpretation and by the time the presaged pattern becomes relevant to any decision making process, it may not be possible to apply the given information effectively. I'd need two points of confirmation before making a reliable attempt at identifying the third. 'Born from discord' implies a previous event either literal or figurative, so it is likely best used as a confirming factor. 'Unlocks fateful events' is a potentially dire portent and a consequence of the first two elements, so it is something that needs to be anticipated and prepared for. Thus 'A sinister return' becomes the only actionable element of the prediction."
He blinked quickly a few times. Isaac had not started any formal education under the Professor be he was quite intelligent for a boy in his age group and the Professor was very firm on the paradigms of literacy, logic, and reasoning. She was less firm on practical applications for them outside of the sciences, reading people, or picking up on context.
"Have you seen anyone sinister Ms. Mvashti?"
Koya lifts an eyebrow and speaks with an amused tone. "The Harrow is not a science, my dear. What you make of it is the most important part. But should there be a time where you find yourself remembering in your heart what I read to you, then it may be precious. Try to give a precise meaning to it in advance, and you may as well be chasing smoke. Otherwise, I'm sure Ilsoari will have his own theories about the cards, you can go talk to that old goat until his ears fall off."
And with those words, the old lady moves to lay out a spread for the newly-arrived Quiin.
Moving away from Isaac, Koya lays out the cards. "I'm guessing you'd like a reading too, eh? Let's see, Unicorn in total match and the Joke in opposite, then a partial on the Bear. One who was dishonest and underhanded lashed out with fury and violence, but aid will come to those who deserve it and ask graciously."
The Sheriff is wide-eyed at your display. "Mother of Mercy, that's, uh, seventyone points, with three centers! You did better than half my people, we should recruit you straight away! Alright, see you just after lunch!"
The spin of the hammer is almost enough to make Almos fall on the ground, but the "goblin"'s head blows up in orange, moist chunks as Daviren claps. "Now that's how you do it! Little pests'll think twice before bothering you, eh?"
Alma looks a bit puffy-eyed, but smiles at Sammy. "Sure, sweetie, and good luck."
James reaches down to help Álmos up.
"Nice hit!" he cheers, still in excellent spirits from the Sherrif's praise.
Isaac lingered as Quinn got his fortune read. "So that is a two-part contingent fortune? The second section implies it is dependent on the first but the first is only confirmable in retrospect, so it seems more a guiding principle than prescribed or proscribed act-" Isaac finally slowed down and looked suddenly ill. For a moment, it looked like he might be sick all over Koya's cards but then let out an absolutely unholy belch that seemed to go on for entirely too long. His talking finally having disturbed the careful balancing act going on inside of him.
"Sorry, Mr. Jargie Quinn's water is not agreeing with me," Isaac said, pulling his cap down to hide an embarrassed face.
Quiin watches silently as the forture teller deals out her cards, and listens to her reading. He is about to respond when Isaac jumps in with his confusing jargon. Quiin stares in a mix of admiration and shock at Isaac as the strange boy then lets out the most gloriously inappropriate noise Quiin has ever heard.
"That was amazing!" he says, looking the boy up and down as he takes in his strange appearance, and his powers kick in - Read Mind, Minor on Isaac.
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Skimming Isaac's mind is oddly like reading a book, everything arranged in ordered rows. However, the thing dominating the strange boy's thoughts at the moment is a reminder of the absolutely awful experience of the slime he had managed to force down earlier. While Quiin might be shielded by his powers for the full effect of the memory, in Isaac's mind it is crystal clear in every horrible detail from taste to texture to the smell creeping up the back of his throat.
"Ah, that's not a winner, sweetie, but you still get a cookie. I've got honey, elderberries, hazelnut..."
"Charming" deadpans Koya, before shuffling her cards back in the deck, fiddling with them as she waits for more customers.
Quiin distractedly looks towards the card-reader and quickly says "Um, thanks miss, very enlightening" before turning back to Isaac and pulling him a bit away from her.
"You're... different to the people I've met here so far. And what the hell did you just do that was so disgusting? I feel like I'm about to throw up myself!..."
Quiin pauses for a moment, realising for the second time today that he is perhaps giving away a bit too much about himself.
"I'm Quiin by the way, sorry. What's your name?"
Quiin got a blank stare for a moment. Inside Isaac's head, things clicked into place with more of that bizarre precision that seemed almost alien to the usual messy stew of thoughts and emotions that boiled up in most people from moment to moment. There was not any suspicion or confusion, at least not like most people felt, just a careful sorting of responses.
"I'm Isaac, Professor Drossel's boy," he said. When he mentioned the Professor, the first quirk of something like a human emotion showed through as uncertainty, but it was quickly buried as he kept focused on the conversation. "I asked Mr. Quinn for water. What he gave me was very definitely not water, but I managed to keep a sip down and he gave me a gold coin in return. I suspect there is some sort of ongoing wager."
"Hi Isaac, nice to meet you," Quiin says, then shudders, "It must have been pretty damn bad to give you a whole gold coin for a sip."
Quiin isn't quite sure what to make of this strange kid just yet, but he seems polite at least.
"I just arrived here in Sandpoint yesterday, came to live with my uncle. Haven't met Professor Drossel yet, or many people for that matter. Have you been here long?"
James reaches down to help Álmos up.
"Nice hit!" he cheers, still in excellent spirits from the Sherrif's praise.
"Thank you! " He replies before handing the hammer back to Daviren. "Don't worry, sir, Chakacoatl and I will do our best to keep the town safe if those egg headed green scavengers!"
"Hey - you're that new kid, aren't you?" James asked Álmos, before adding "I'm James."
"I'm Álmos." He replies as he holds a hand out to James. "Isn't this festival the best, James? I'm having a blast!"
" good!" James agrees, enthusiastically shaking the offered hand. "Normally I end up having to sit my sister, which is crazy hard and means I don't get to do anything... but today she's got a stall, so as long as I check in with her in an hour it should be fine!"
He looks at the new kid. "Ahlmos? Is that right. That's a weird name. Where's it from?"
Before even getting an answer he asks one final, critical question "Hey. Do you play Whistleball?"
"Yes, four years now. I am sure you will end up meeting my... the Professor eventually. She handles a lot of the minor injuries the town gets at her clinic and she always say young boys are prone to such things," Isaac said with certainty. The Professor had said it so it must be true.
"I am going to find something to replace this flavor in my mouth. If the Professor finds out I have money, she will insist I save it sensibly but she is not here. Can you help me spend this?" The gold coin appeared from a baggy sleeve.
"I guess I have had my fair share of knocks. I try to avoid that kind of thing though," Quiin says, rubbing the side of his cheek where a small scar is just visible.
"I'm sure we can find something wonderful to eat... Miss Alma the baker is really nice and she gave me these cookies. I don't want to go and bother her again though, so you can have one, hopefully it helps!" Quiin holds out one of the cookies in offering, but keeps the other one wrapped up in his pocket for his Uncle.
Isaac took the cookie carefully and promptly fit the entire thing into his mouth before he started chewing on it thoughtfully. He gave the baked confection a thoughtful and thorough chew before swallowing.
"Thank you, that is much better, though I doubt I will ever truly be rid of the memory of that taste."
Before even getting an answer he asks one final, critical question "Hey. Do you play Whistleball?"
"I've never heard of it. How do you play?"
James is visibly stunned. "Really? Oh wow! You have to try it. Its the best! You have a whistleball and a bat. There are two teams. Each team has a bunch of positions, and you can have multiple people per position. The first..."
What James' long, rambling description lacks in clarity it makes up for in exuberance, until he finally trails off.
"... and that's a point. At the end the team with the most points wins! There'll be a game tomorrow - you should come! We could use a good batter."
Somehow an inch of etiquette surfaces in the whistleball-sea that is James' mind and he thinks to ask "So what do you play?"
"No problem Isaac, and I hope that's true. Even bad memories are important." says Quiin.
"Was there anything else that you were looking forward to at the festival? I don't really know what's around." Quiin turns and starts to look around, seeing whether there is anything else to do that would interest both him and Isaac.
Suddenly, a loud clanging noise echoes through Sandpoint. Looking around, you can see Ameiko wielding a pot and a ladle, and banging them together. "Hot pot à la Sandpoint ready!" she shouts triumphantly. "Come for a bowl if you're brave and bold!"
Around the taverns, activity becomes more intense. Not to be outdone, Quinn limps out of the Hagfish, banging a pan of his own with his walking cane. "And there's REAL food here! Shrimp dumplings! Clam chowder! Cod and chips!"
Jesk "Cracktooth" Berinni, from the Cracktooth Tavern, is the next one to advertise, raising in the air three chickens on a spit like a sword. "Meat! Roast beek, pork loin, grilled chicken! Fresh off the fire!"
And then it's the turn of Besk Margravi, daughter of Risa from Risa's Place, who shakes her hand in the air to conjure snapping sounds like fireworks. "Risa's famous potatoes!" she yells. "Spiced according to the ancient recipe! Come eat something that won't be stuck on your stomach!"
Quiin's eyes go round as the hubbub rises.
"We have to try it all! Lets go!"
He grabs Isaac's arm again and pulls him towards the Amieko, the closest chef.
"I have concerns about the capacity and structural integrity of your stomach!" Isaac replied as Quiin dragged him through the mass of bodies, for such a little guy, he was surprisingly heavy. With curiosity, he peered over the lip of Ameiko's cauldron.
James changes tack as the announcements begin "Hey - let's go get some of that beef!"
Sammy accepts a hazlenut cookie just as food announcements go out. Eyes going wide, she darts off with a shouted "THANK YOU!" cramming the cookie into her mouth. It tastes delicious, but shrimp dumplings sound even more delicious.
"My stomach is fine! We'll have a bit each, thanks miss!" Quiin says to Amieko as he squirms to the front, one hand still attached to Isaac.
James changes tack as the announcements begin "Hey - let's go get some of that beef!"
"As long as we get some food from Miss Ameiko too! She makes the best stuff around here!"
Ameiko's hot pot is nothing short of a miracle, considered all the ingredients that went into it. Somehow she's managed to marry the eel with the venison, the pumpkins and all the dozens of different things the Sandpoint citizens threw in, no doubt thanks to the pungent, zesty taste of the Minkaian spices she threw into the mix.
Quinn's baked shrimp dumplings are nothing to sneeze at either, soft and slightly squishy, filled with juicy crustaceans. As for Jesk's barbecue, it features large, savory chunks of meat sprinkled with salt and rosemary.
As you are eating, Sheriff Hemlock passes through the square, signing up those who wish to fight in the melee brawl of the afternoon.
Quiin enjoys every bit of food he can get his hands on, and has a wonderful time walking around with Isaac. When the Sheriff comes around, he holds back, not wanting any part in a brawl, especially one in which adults are participating.
James chokes down his beef in his effort to stand. "Here!" he calls, standing up while simultaneously reaching for his cup and spilling it over Quiin.
"Sorry!" he apologises, quickly taking a sip and wheezing for breath.
"There is no octopus in there, is there?" Isaac asked as he stared at the bubbling mass of sundry animal and plant parts. Some part of him felt vaguely uncomfortable consuming one of Felix's distant cousins, especially considering how smart he knew the creatures to be now.
Sammy wolfs down dumplings in an utterly unladylike manner that would make her aunt swoon. When the announcement of the brawl comes around, she looks around, sees that yes, James has absolutely volunteered, and returns to her dumplings. Let dumb boys do dumb boy things, she has more important matters to attend to. Shrimp based matters.
Quiin looks around at the kids sitting all around him and Isaac and wonders how he got here. They seem nice enough, even if the blonde boy who spilled his drink on him is a bit of a lout. He can see himself settling in here, maybe, hopefully.
He leans across and says to Sammy "Hi there, I'm Quiin, what's your name?" As he does so, his powers activate once again.
Sammy's mind is a bit of a chaotic jumble, but for the most part seems very focused on gods this tastes so gooooood. However, there's also something Quinn can't quite pin down lurking in the background of Sammy's thoughts, barely brushing her conscious mind, that feels unsettling.
She looks up from her plate, mouth still full of dumpling, and swallows before smiling brightly. "I'm Sammy. What's yours?"
"You want to fight, James? Isn't it a bunch of adults though?" He asks as he tries to figure out what he thinks of all the weird stuff in his serving of hot pot. "They'd just beat you up."
James shrugs "Yeah, maybe. Probably they'll have age categories and stuff. Sherrif does this to find recruits, and have a show. Not much point in either if you match a kid against Bill Hackjaw. It's like Whistleball, adults don't play against kids. That's why this is my last chance to win this age category before I age out."
Raising his voice slightly louder against the hubbub, he says again "My name is Quiin! Nice to meet you Sammy. Seems a bit stupid to get yourself smacked around in a fight, doesn't it?"
