The town of Sandpoint is a sleepy affair. Today's excitement is out of place for the Varisian village. The bustle of the day, and for weeks leading up to the festivities, marks the opening of a great cathedral. Five years ago a fire claimed the building that houses Sandpoint's faith. The fire also claimed the life of the man in charge of the old cathedral, Ezakien Tobyn.
The town has pulled together in the past half decade. They've hosted weddings and funerals in makeshift shelters. They've sacrificed and labored. Today marks the day of dedication. The shape that is the new cathedral can make the transition and truly become part of Sandpoint. The Autumn Equinox is today. Father Zanthus, the clergyman behind the new cathedral and Mayor Deveros, Sandpoint's only real politician, will dedicate the temple tonight at the height of the celebration.
Until that time visitors and locals are encouraged to celebrate, shop, mingle, and take advantage of anything the small town has to offer.
Thodak walks into the tavern that says "The Rusty Dragon" above the door.
This is as good a place as any to get a mug of ale, I suppose.
Searching for a seat, he decides on the table in the corner away from the other patrons. As Thodak makes his way to the table, some of the other patrons shy away from his towering height, bulging muscles, and his travel worn clothes tight over his green skin.
What, like you've never seen a half-orc before? Though I guess I do look like a beggar in these dusty rags.
Thodak sits down at the table and motions for the bar maid.
A Tian woman bustles over to Thodak's table. She is dressed in clothing that marks her a cut above the commoners and unsuccessful merchants. She is fit and exotically beautiful. Her grace in the crowded tavern lends to her allure.
Ameiko-proprieter of The Rusty Dragon
I am Ameiko. This is my place. Please make yourself comfortable at the Rusty Dragon. Dinner will be served after the dedication. Until then it is ale and a cold platter. Can I get you either?
Her accent is present but not overpowering. She is animated when she gestures. A full welcoming smile greets Thodak. His heritage is a non-issue or she is great at hiding her distaste.
Outside of The Rusty Dragon the festivities are in full swing. Several tents ring the courtyard of the new cathedral. The smells and sounds of celebration fill the air. An assortment of meats and too many vegetables to name, all from the bounty of local fields and farms, cook over pits of glowing hardwood coals. Challenges and contests take place between townsfolk and visitors.
Old rivals become instant backers when an outsider challenges a Sandpoint native. Adults join children in sack races and hide and go seek. The strongest citizens toss logs end over end and lift baskets of stones above their heads.
A rope is stretched above a pit filled with the slop from the cook-pits and tavern. A young women crosses successfully, then an obviously drunk man falls from the perch into the rotten vegetables and mud.
Come try it stranger!
Challenges fly at anyone who gawks for too long. The festivities are in good fun and the winners will buy very few drinks on this night.
Thodak grunts and eyes Ameiko askance, put off by her welcoming smile.
Ill just have the ale for now. What's with all the commotion outside? I barely got down the bloody street with all of these idiots in my way...
Ameiko smiles again.
Forgive their revelry; these people have a lot to celebrate. Five years ago the old cathedral and a good man burned. The towns-people have since lived without a spiritual center. They've endured and even scraped together labor and taxes to pay for a new cathedral. Today we dedicate the place. Normally we'd celebrate the harvest and the Gods' bounties, today we'll do all that and try to set an old wound healing. We call it the Swallowtail Festival. Be merry grim one. It is tradition to buy a stranger an ale, so the first one's on me!
The Tian woman retreats toward the bar. She fields several orders on the fly then ducks behind the bar proper and takes up station in front of an over sized barrel. Another woman, young and local by her looks, serves your drink with a smile and moves on to the next table.
Hmmm, free ale, I'm beginning to like this place already!!
Thodak tosses the serving girl a copper for her prompt service. Nursing his ale, he starts to think about what his next move is in the slaying of the Sandpoint Devil.
If only I could find out where the bloody thing sleeps I would camp nearby and attack it in the night.
Thodak finishes his ale with a belch and heads toward the door to join the rest of the townspeople in their celebration...and to maybe ask a few questions about the Sandpoint Devil.
The sun greets your eyes, Thodak. Before they can fully adjust a group of children closes twenty feet in front of you. Two boys and a girl stand before you. The smaller boy stands bravely next to the girl. She is the oldest. The middle child peeks from between them. The girl seems curious and the youngster oozes false bravado. A count, which starts to register to Thodak's ears at six, continues from the eldest's pursed lips. Seven, eight, nine, ...told ya the middle shouts before high-tailing it back up the street.
A man walks briskly into Thodak's view. His sight drifts to the retreating youngsters. A brief look of resignation crosses his face.
Lost my quarry, but I know where they roost. A word about manners tonight...
Hello. The man radiates calm and happy feelings. He offers his hand and continues...
Abstalar Zantus, pleased to meet you and offer you the best of our little place, Sandpoint. Please don't mind those three. Foundlings they are called here-abouts. Desna calls them orphans in other places. They've plenty of room for love, and maybe some for improvement too. I will remind them tonight. We provide a place for them, and soon an even nicer place with chance to advance if they hear the calling.
The Father's last brings the largest smile and a gesture to the cathedral.
I have a few moments to chat and you seem as interesting a man as any in Sandpoint. After, I fear you must excuse me. The festivities call. I hope you saw the doves in flight at noon. It was truly beautiful.
Feeling in a cheerful mood, Thodak takes Father Zantus's hand...
Happy to meet you. Don't worry about the little ones, I don't suppose they see too many of my kind around here. Unfortunately I didn't get to see the doves, but I am excited to be part of the celebration. Excuse my ignorance, but what happened to the cathedral?
Walk with me.
Zantus gestures with an open hand in the direction of the Sandpoint Cathedral. He moves up Festival Street toward the corner of High Street.
Five years ago a fire took the last formal hall of worship this town called its own. The fire destroyed the Church, and according to the locals, the family within. I was not in Sandpoint yet. I had written Father Tobyn to seek service on his staff. He was nice, but rejected my request. He informed me that his adopted daughter Nualia would replace him in service to Desna when his skills waned or life faded.
The cheerful feeling the man gave off has fled. His eyes lock with yours.
Both died in the flames.
He lets out a long slow breath as if the feelings can be carried away by the wind. He smiles a mirthless smile, one that brings to mind lemons and lemonade.
Master half-orc, what is your name? I must know what to call the man who reminded me that those two and the others lost years ago deserve a small tribute during the dedication. Thank you for the perspective.
Dirkenious finds more than one set of eyes resting on his person. Only the young or those lacking any social graces hold the look when their inquiry becomes a two party system. Sandpoint is not without its own brand of decency. Several nods and even a g'day are sent his way. The feeling may not remain tomorrow or any other day of the year, but during the swallowtail festival the locals serve hospitality alongside the more common bounty.
I am called Thodak Darkeyes.
Thodak pauses for a moment, unsure whether he wants to share part of his story with a complete stranger, but he feels compelled to confide in Father Zantus.
What's wrong with you...the ale wasn't that strong
Thodak gently places his massive hand on father Zantus's shoulder
I have also lost loved ones to fire.
Before Thodak can say anymore, a figure catches his attention from the corner of his eyes. Thodak blinks to make sure his eyes aren't deceiving him.
Either that ale had pesh in it, or there is a giant bird walking down the bloody street like he belongs there.
Interesting...
What happ...
Zantus' question catches on his teeth. The half-orc's eyes glance left and his follow. A reveler wears a strange mask of feathers...was that?..?
Before he can decide what he has seen the moment passes.
Are you staying in town after the swallowtail? I have questions that don't belong on a day like this. I find the Goddess has work for me, beyond the time afforded.
Zantus rounds the corner onto High Street. The crowd here is even thicker. His robes flutter behind him.
Did you see th....
Giving his head a shake, Thodak turns his attention back to Father Zantus.
I haven't found an inn yet, I've only just arrived.
Thodak says, while gesturing to his pack.
Do you have any suggestions? I will be in town for a few days at least while I regroup and purchase some new wilderness gear. My other set was lost in...an unfortunate accident.
He says with an embarrassed grin, while his singed garments flap in the wind.
There are three reputable places in Sandpoint, the Rusty Dragon, the White Deer over on Church Street, and Risa's Place.
He points north through the buildings on his right.
Undercliff Way is where Risa's is... fine cider. There's a few other options, Cracktooth's over by the theater. For seafood and a some local flare try the Hagfish. Lastly and leastly is the most god awful pit in all of Sandpoint, the Fatman's Feedbag . Watch yourself thereabouts...If you require a break from the festival, Savah's armory is close to Risa's and will be able to get you outfitted.
I s'pose I'll check out the White Deer.
Hopefully there are less people there than at the Rusty Dragon...
As they pass by a man hawking a tray of donkey rat pot pies, Thodak's stomach reminds him that he hasn't eaten in days.
If you don't mind, I'm gonna grab a few of these for the walk over to the inn...you want one? Thodak asks Zantus as he starts to make his way over to the peddler.
Hey peddler, how much for the whole tray?
Stunned by the appearance of a giant bird creature, Thodak lets out a startled grunt...that was a giant bloody bird that I saw earlier!!
Thodak grabs the peddlers arm with one hand and a pot pie with the other. He takes a bite and almost immediately spits it on the ground...Phaw!! Rotten gnoll meat!! Dropping the rest of the pot pie on the ground, Thodak grabs the peddler by the shoulders and begins to lift him off the ground, the peddler stammering and shaking drops his wares. You were gonna sell me rotten food!! Thodak's vision begins to go blurry and he starts to see spots, his pulse quickening and veins bulging in his arms and neck. I SHOULD RIP YOUR BLOODY HEAD OFF!!!
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To unaccustomed ears, hearing a Tengu speak can be a challenge. Regularly in speech, they are forced to clack their mouths (beaks) closed to reset jaw muscles in most complex languages. These clacks occur most often in normal speech pauses, but can happen in the middle of longer words as well. Denoted by "'" when necessary.
Dirkenious speaks common fluidly, but knowing that the constant clacking and rather unpleasant tone of his speech can be off-putting, he will usually speak very little. At first.
I came on the man as he removed what little meat was left' interested to see what use he could have for such fetid flesh''
Fetid to most, but my own would gladly devour it. Uncooked.
I can assure you he has sold this to no other' as I would have warned them just the same'
The peddler locks eyes with Dirkenious.
You lice ridden bag of feathers! What I sell is of no concern of anyone not buying! Filthy thing! You've followed me? Probably to peck my eyes out while I sleep.
Grubby hands remove themselves from the peddler's robes and dart about securing valuables then discarding food. A crowd has started to form. Thodak, Dirkenious, and the peddler are ringed by two score of Sandpoint locals and festival goers. A figure presses through the outermost ring. He passes Zantus. A moments recognition passes between the two and the man presses on... Father Zantus falls into the hole created by the man's wake and moves toward the center of the crowd. Meanwhile, the peddler continues hastily attending to his business. Without intervention any evidence of wrongdoing will go into the glowing red coals under the steel grate of the cookfire before anyone besides the accused and accuser have formed an opinion.
I have to learn how to control my anger better!
Still seething from the peddlers attempt to give him dysentery, Thodak gets almost nose to nose with the scoundrel.
That 'bag of feathers' just saved me from a very unpleasant case of the runs, so I would watch my mouth if I were you. Thodak says in a much calmer voice. Almost too calm...like the moments before a storm.
Noticing the newcomer, Thodak backs away from the peddler. He looks at Zantus questioningly.
The peddler is more concerned with removing the remaining food from the grill in front of him.
This greenskin and feather-face are friends. Just what I need, another freak on my case.
The claims of outlandish creatures should not be considered by normal
The final pieces of evidence disappear into the coals as the newcomer finally breaches the last ring of gawkers.
A bald man with a booming voice steps into the altercation. The murmur of the crowd is sucked out of the air by his presence. His dark skin is mirrored in his dark expression. In a no-nonsense voice he asks:
What cause for an argument during our celebration?
The rest of the crowd has receded even farther, leaving the peddler, Thodak, and Dirkenious with Sheriff Hemlock. Father Zantus stands halfway between the two groups.
He's right, the food was rotten. I tasted it before this vermin destroyed all of the evidence.
Great, now there's a lawman involved...this is why I stay away from bloody towns!!
The merchant's sunken eyes dart about. He finds himself scrutinized by an audience. Authority walks with the newcomer. The men and women sink back, waiting for someone to make the next move.
I am Ronald of Magnimar good sir. I am a simple man who wishes nothing but jovial celebrations and a few gold pieces for my troubles. These men have made unfounded claims about my food.
Filthy lawmen, sanctioned criminals all of them. Hope he gets a crux.
Legend of the hospitality of Sandpoint has reached far and wide. Safe to say all wish it to continue.
Thodak shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
This guy is greeeasy...
The crowd starts to murmur again. The murmur grows to a growl, then a steady roar. Sheriff Hemlock steps away to share a few words with Father Zantus. The crowd is rapidly expanding as Hemlock returns from the pow-wow.
I've decided to take your statements here in public. Usually I'd go to the constabulary and sort this out. Sandpoint is too busy today to have her Sheriff wrapped up for the afternoon in the matters of merchants and men. If any party objects to the public forum, we can handle this unfortunate business tomorrow morning..
Ronald Cleyn moves to position himself on the side of waiting, but Hemlock continues.
If we do that, all of you will stay in our jail for the night. Last I saw there were about fifteen drunks in there. We have five cots so it could be a communal experience.
Cleyn's hope of delay fades like the light over junk beach. Seeing the hope flow from Cleyn's eyes, Hemlock stifles a smile. He nods at Thodak and Dirkenious.
Unless either of you object, today justice will be swift. Please state your name and your side of the story. The father has agreed to bear witness.
I am called Thodak Darkeyes. I saw this peddler selling pot pies which he claimed were made with donkey rat meat, but according to my feathered friend who has been spying on the peddler, the pies are actually made of rotten gnoll meat. I tasted the pies and found that my friend was right...this scoundrel tried to sell me rotten food and ruin my enjoyment of this festival. My God is not Desna but I still would like to enjoy your celebration.
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I am Dirkenious Darkfeather, of the Anzu tribe. On my way into yer town for the large gathering, my nose brought me to a camp of half-in-the-mud gnolls, and there wasn't much left. Bones were nearly picked clean, then I smelt mor 'o the same a ways away. When I got close, I seen't this fleshbag with a cart full of gnoll cut meat, cooking them up. I know's your kind turn away from the rotted flesh, so I followed him into town, as it were the same ways I was going. I waited around until I knew he was trying to sell his goods to manfolk, and we are here now.
I know he rid himself of all the goods that would prove ours truth, but I can still smell it like it were right...
There!
Dirkenious jerks forward, and in a flash of ebony feathers, grabs at something from the ground.
Here is what he offers, let it be seen!
Sheriff Hemlock's hand darts out snatching Cleyn's wrist in a vice-like clamp. The merchant's move toward the meat Dirkenious discovered is cut short by the Sheriff's brawny tether.
Not so fast good merchant. Hemlock's voice is a growl.
He reaches down with his left hand, while his right hand keeps Cleyn close. The slight merchant executes a bow fit for court as Hemlock dips at the waist.
This meat looks rancid.
Hemlock turns fast on his heels and Cleyn follows. They are dance partners whether Ronald Cleyn wishes it so or not. The Sheriff performs for the crowd. Some stand in rapture as if the events are merely another facet of the gem of Swallowtail. Men and women of town look on the edge of gasping while others quaff mugs of ale like theater-goers.
The Sheriff marches at a brisk pace and Ronald follows, heeling like a hound. The sheriff hands the piece of meat to Father Zantus. The Cleric mutters a brief prayer. Moments later he nods to Hemlock.
Your defense merchant? Hemlock releases his grip on Cleyn without warning. Ronald's dignity flees with his balances as the forces of his weight are suddenly free to move his body. He nearly falls which brings a short gasping giggle from the crowd.
The expression of the merchant changes abruptly. His features sharpen and his words sting.
Hemlock thinks We see the true man...finally.
Cleyn spits his words, first at Hemlock and the two who started this altercation then toward the entire crowd.
I did it! I fed you rotten meat, gnoll no less. May it fester in your stomachs and may the Mother of Monsters rejoice. I hope you feel the squirming and kicking of a tiny monstrosity. Lamashtu will have your hearts to feed to her children!
The mention of Lamashtu freezes everyone. Sheriff Hemlock's jaw drops. Onlookers stop quaffs mid tip and foam spills around the corner of their lips. A slow sucking sound rebounds off of the buildings, the sound of more than two score of people inhaling. Only one person is moving, Father Zantus.
The Father's hands come together, prayer-like, one fist grasping the other. His hands come up toward his chin but don't stop there. Instead, they continue upward, above and behind his head. The hands that had healed more than half of the onlookers decend in an arc and connect with the soft part at the base of Cleyn's skull. The merchant crumbles into a pile on the ground a few feet from where the tainted meat sat.
Without a hint of humor Zantus commands: Lock him up. He should not be allowed to communicate with anyone. We need to hang this man, but first a trial.
The Sheriff collects the man. He is not gentle as he hauls him in the direction of the Sandpoint Jail. Hemlock pauses and looks back, ready to field questions from the three men standing in the middle of the crowd. A narrow path clears making the throng horseshoe shaped.
Zantus steps closer to the Half-Orc and Tengu.
We meet again Thodak. Master Darkfeather, honor to tribe Anzu.
The Cleric dips in a perfect Tian bow.
That was ... odd. He will stand a true trial soon. The public hearing is enough for petty matters and squabbles, but this goes far beyond anything mundane. The Goddess he called on, Lamashtu, is a foul beast who earned her place in the pantheon through slaughter and vile experimentation. While powerful she is no true goddess. Desna weeps. If we find that man to be a willing thrall of such, he will be dealt with harshly. The rope or the flame...or both.
Father Zantus takes a moment to think. He looks to his feet and then back at Dirkenious and Thodak.
If the two of you could meet my Acolyte at the Jail, I would appreciate your time. The festival will continue, and you will be able to see the swallowtail release at dusk and the dedication. She will compel the man to be truthful. Your information could help her, Desna willing.
I really could use another mug of ale and somethin' to eat, but I s'pose I can't pass up a chance to help hang that scrawny little rat's cock. I'm ready when you are, holy man.
Hopefully this don't take too long...I'm gettin' thirsty.
Thodak looks over at Dirkenious How 'bout it Dirk?
A beautiful Aasimar woman sits in the silence of her study at the newly built Sandpoint Cathedral. Reading her worn copies of The Eight Scrolls, she remembers the years that she spent traveling, and is unsure whether she wants those days to end.
I am going to miss those years I spent on the road. The people of Sandpoint really need me though, and Rhialla Silverkin always does what she must. Perhaps one day I'll travel again.
The idea of leaving her old life behind makes Rhialla sad, but she is dutiful and feels this is what Desna calls her to do at the moment. Obedience to Desna is of utmost importance to Rhialla.
In an attempt to raise her spirits, Rhialla decides to go out and mingle with the locals. It is the Swallowtail Festival after all, and she is excited to dance under the stars.
I may as well go out and enjoy the day. Sitting here pouting won't change anything.
She grabs a light cloak off of the wall on her way out. As she leaves, she glances at her travel worn gear still sitting in the corner of her study and feels sadness all over again.
I can ask Rhialla to meet you two at a watering hole or you can find a mug on the way. She'll need to see that scumbag. She has a reputation, without threats or torture she gets the truth from folks. Cracktooth's is near the Garrison which houses our Jail...The garrison is the large stone building on the southwest corner of Tower and Main. Cracktooth's is south of there, Main Street to Bent Street. I will have her check either. If you decide your not the kind of men who wait patiently, leave a message with the barkeep.
Father Zantus sets out toward the Cathedral with a look of concern on his face. It's as out of place at the Swallowtail as the mention of Lamashtu.
Thodak hits Dirkenious in the shoulder, perhaps a bit too hard. Thodak never did know his own strength.
C'mon Dirk...you mind if I call you Dirk? First, we find some ale and second... Thodak lowers his voice ...and second we find some flayleaf. Thodak nudges Dirkenious in the shoulder again, this time a little bit softer. Let's go to Cracktooth's, grab an ale, and meet this Rhialla so we can get this bloody foolishness over with!! I want to be so full of ale by sunset that I forget my name!! Thodak laughs uproariously.
Rhialla leaves the Sandpoint Cathedral housing area and turns left onto Church Street. She weaves her way through smiling revelers standing outside of the Cathedral in the courtyard, all excited for the dedication. She stops and talks to many of the revelers, introducing herself to them. She is met with many hugs and thank yous.
Seeing these smiling faces makes my sacrifice seem small.
Rhialla finally gets through crowd in front of the Cathedral and continues toward Tower Street. Almost to Tower Street, she sees a man in the vestments of a Cleric with a look of purpose on his face making his way toward the Cathedral.
This must be Abstalar Zantus.
Rhialla approaches him. Father Zantus?
The Cleric doesn't mask his concern.
Desna has work for us. A man selling food was discover to be selling rotten gnoll meat. It is good the man is weak and unclever. The acts may have been clues to a foul right. There are scholars who believe demons spawn from cannibalism. The gnoll meat might have been the vindictive act of a confused man under Lamashtu's control. That would disturb me, but I truly fear this was an attempt to summon a demon. I want you to look into this matter. The accused and self confessed prisoner is called Ronald Cleyn. He is at the Jail. Two travelers were in on the action, Thodak and Dirkenious. They should be easy to spot. One towers above everyone and has green skin, the other is a man sized and shaped bird.
The look in the Father's eyes tell Rhialla this isn't a local custom like the first of Gozreh, when the rubes round-abouts played tricks on each other.
Find the Sheriff too. He may have something to say.
Rhialla gasps Lamashtu? This is most disturbing on a day such as this. I shall seek these travelers out at once. I remember passing by the garrison on my way into town. Perhaps they will be there with the Sherriff. Desna's blessings, father.
Rhialla sets a brisk pace down Tower Street toward the garrison, this time all but ignoring the towns people that she passes.
Lamashtu! she thinks to herself angrily The very name sickens me!! I must keep calm though if I am to talk to this prisoner.
As she turns down Main Street, she sees in the distance a half-orc and a tengu walking toward her through the throng of revelers. Desna smiles on me today. She begins to walk toward the odd pair. When she gets close she calls out Thodak? Dirkenious? She puts out her hand I am Rhialla Silverkin, acolyte to Father Zantus. He sent me to seek you out and get your statements about Ronald Cleyn.
Thodak is the first to take her hand. Nice to meet you Rhialla. My friend Dirk and I were about to head over to Cracktooth's and grab an ale. We can give you our statements in there.
Rhialla shakes her head. I'm afraid there is no time for that master Thodak. The blasphemy that Lamashtu has sent must be dealt with or I am afraid it will further desecrate the sanctity of this day. Master Ronald Cleyn must be dealt with at once and swiftly, for if he is being influenced by the mother of monsters he is far more dangerous to this town than you can imagine.
Rhialla softens her expression and smiles How about this: after we have dealt with Ronald Cleyn, I will join you for a round of drinks. I'm buying.
Hmmm, More free ale...
Another thought comes to Thodak and he begins to form a smile. That would make you the second pretty lady to buy me a drink today. I guess I can a wait a little longer for that ale. What you think Dirk?
Rhialla blushes Why thank you master Thodak, and thank you master Dirkenious. Let's get to the garrison. I'm sure the sheriff is waiting for us.
With a look of determination, Rhialla leads the group into the garrison.
Lamashtu will have no power in Sandpoint. Not on this day.