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It’s late when your caravan arrives in Highdelve. Most of the travelers are only stopping for dinner before proceeding on to the next town, but you have business here, and so you remain when the wagons pull out again. You’ve gotten to know each other a little bit on the road from Port Ice, though you planned on going your separate ways once you reached town. When you get to the inn, however, you find it unusually crowded. The innkeeper only has one room available, what with the festival tomorrow. If you’re willing to share, though, she has some cots she can set up and there should be room enough for the four of you. As you walk down into the common room for dinner, you find it, too, is more crowded than you would expect. A four-top comes open right as you walk in, though, and almost as soon as you sit the waiter comes by with bowls of stew and mugs of ale for the four of you. While you eat, you have a chance to get to know your new roommates a little better.
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Brialla sits mostly quietly as the food and ale come forward. Instead, she allows her cousin Meraina the opportunity to answer questions about their purpose and travel through Highdelve.
Throughout the meal, her eyes glance up to the nearest window, peering for a moment before drawing back to the happenings inside- giving onlookers the impression of distraction, or even dissatisfaction.
Torgen is unusually quite this evening. Not that he would talk a lot but it seems as if the crowded atmosphere is not to his liking.
"Hmmmm ... sharing a room with you. Not really my style anymore. I do not know if I have told you this before but I come from an artisan family and lived most of my life in Port Ice - that is not far from here. Ha, ha, ha ..." the dwarf suddenly starts laughing.
"... ha, ha, I grew up alongside six brothers and sisters and life was more hectic than this inn here so I should get a grip on myself! I have been on the quite road for so long that a crowd gives the creeps."
"Now tell me! What are you here for?" the dwarf asks.
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You spend the evening getting to know each other. When you rise in the morning and head out the door to attend to your business, you find an unexpected scene.
Beams of sunlight stream past the snow-capped mountains as a joyous scene spreads before you. Overnight, the town's staid and utilitarian main square sprouted colorful tents, a pop-up theater, a spinning contraption made of barrel bottoms, some manner of race course, and more unexpected delights. Laughter and boisterous shouts echo from all the square's corners as its quaint cobblestone streets teem with villagers sporting festive clothes and wide smiles. Throughout it all, the smell of fried foods weaves through air laced with the warmth of a summer that's just begun.
Activities in view:
A1. Youths stand on and around tall wooden storage boxes, playing some sort of game.
A2. Lanes have been drawn and sack races are being run.
A3. A large, gilt statue of a dragon.
A4. A Barrel-Go-Round ride has been erected.
A5. A small puppet theater has gathered a crowd.
A6. A stand sells delicious-smelling fried food on sticks.
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Brialla sighs when she sees the festival and the crowds. This is reason enough not to travel for me. Deliberatly dragging her feet, she slowly follows her cousin toward the puppet theater, claiming a seat next to Meraina.
She whispers to her cousin in a hushed tone, "How does this help us find the jeweler that made NaNa's ring? I would prefer to return to Port Ice sooner rather than later. I miss the woods and have already grown weary of all these crowds"
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Buzzing about the multicolored tents here are townspeople eating fried dough and meat skewered on thin sticks. Rich, delicious smells permeate the air as a tall, broad-shouldered man works the crowd, telling snappy jokes and offering friendly handshakes.
”Well hi there big fella! You must be a visitor to our fair town! Eh, get it? FAIR town?” He chuckles as he rushes off to greet the next group walking up. The next time he passes by, he says ”Anyway, welcome! What can I getcha? Funnel cake? Corn dog? Fortifies the bones, only one silver!”
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Strange voices and exaggerated accents ring from the front of a small performance stage, which is framed with a drawn-back velvet curtain. On the stage, elaborate puppets enact a melodramatic scene of confusion and betrayal. All the while, a rapt audience sits on rows of stools pulled close to the action. After a few moments, an elegant man acting as the lone puppeteer behind the stage holds up an "Intermission" sign, and the crowd begins to murmur.
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"A man of good taste!" He drops two small cakes into a pot of bubbling oil, then grabs a large drumstick from a covered platter and places it into a paper tray. When the twinkies are done he drains the excess oil on a towel before placing them on on their own paper tray and handing both to you. "Enjoy the rest of the festival!"[/b]
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The man leans against the side of the stage, taking a breather from the exertion of running the puppet show alone.
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Torgen walks to the large, gilt statue of a dragon. This looks very finely crafted. He assumes that this is dwarven work. And even if a human did this then he probably had a dwarven tutor. And then he starts laughing noticing how proud he actually is of being a dwarf.
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Fully 10 feet high and twice as long, the centerpiece of the square is a gilt statue of a gold dragon with outstretched wings. A plaque at the base reads: "Highdelve dedicates this statue and all of Protectress Square to Aurelliax, Our Gilded Lady. Long may her golden wings envelop us, and may we never fail her when she calls."
Standing next to the statue watching a group of children play is a cheerful-looking woman with white hair and ruddy cheeks. She greets you heartily when she spots you approaching. ”Welcome to Highdelve, travelers! My name’s Winette, Winette Qarl. I’m the mayor of this town. Are you having fun at the festival?”
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"Oh, thank you! Well, I was supposed to have my apprentice here with me, but the fool got herself banned from the festival, so here I am putting on the show by myself. I don't suppose you have any experience performing?"
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Brialla sighs as her cousin goes up to the front of the crowd. Of course she would volunteer to do something like this.
As Brialla gets up to join her, she notices the crowd, and quickly becomes uncomfortable. Giving her cousin "one of those looks" she heads off to find something, anything, else to avoid being in front of the crowd with Meraina.
She sees the children playing a game on a box, away from the rest of the festival crowd, and approached.
After watching several rounds, she approaches the kids:
"What is that, that you are playing?"
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Tall wooden storage boxes are haphazardly arranged everywhere here except for a grouping of four, which form a diamond. Rowdy youths pump their fists and cheer on four kids who each stand atop one of these boxes. The standing youths kick a bean-filled sack back and forth. Each time a youth kicks the sack, they all shout a word of the following phrase: "The! Devil! Man! Knocks! Don't! Let! Him! In!"
"We call it kick-sack. wanna try?"
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"Oh well thank you! The Brightbloom Festival is the highlight of the year for us. What brings you to our little town, anyway? Did you come for the festival?"
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"It's easy! Just stand up here on one of these boxes, and when the sack gets to you you kick it to the next person and say the next line in the rhyme." One of the children hops off the box to make room for you, and they start again, chanting as they kick the small leather bag around the circle. "The! Devil! Man!..."
Torgen looks at Winette and smiles. "You really have a nice town here ... very cheerful! Well, to your question: I am on the trail of a crate of expensive ceremonial axes that never made it to its destination in Silverhall. I have confirmed that the crate made it out of Port Ice, and now I am in Highdelve, which is the crate's next stop. Do you have any information on that?." Torgen asks.
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"Hmmm," the mayor considers "I don't personally, but I may know who does. Do you see that dwarven woman running the sack races over there? Her name's Yarla Bowhammer. She runs a mercantile company that handles a lot of the cargo that comes through here. If anyone in town knows about your crate of axes, it'd be her."
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"Oh my, I've heard stories from those lands. Is that what brought you to Highdelve?"
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The crowd laughs and cheers as you and Carth finish the puppet show. "Thank you so much for helping" he says, as the crowd starts to disperse. "So, what brings you to our little town? Did you come for the festival?"
"Thank you very much mayor! You truly are a kind woman!" Torgen says and moves to Yarla Bowhammer.
He approaches Yarla Bowhammer and waits to see if there is an opening to engage with her "Ahhemm ... hello lady Bowhammer. I am Torgen, I am working for the Skyforgers, and help in tracking down errant shipments. I am on the trail of a crate of expensive ceremonial axes that never made it to its destination in Silverhall. I have confirmed that the crate made it out of Port Ice, and now I am in Highdelve, which is the crate's next stop. Do you have any information on that?"
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"Oh, does she live in Highdelve? What's her name?"
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"Hi there! Welcome to our fair town! Fair town, get it? Anyway, what can I getcha?" He offers a variety of carnival treats, such as funnel cake and corndogs.
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The cobblestones here are marked with four lanes drawn in chalk. Two men and two women hop like mad in separate lanes, their legs covered with heavy burlap sacks. The crowd waves scarves and paper flowers in the air as they cheer the competitors toward the finish line. The onlookers offer a respectful berth to a well dressed dwarven woman standing confidently at the finish, her hands on hips as if she's overseeing the race.
"I'd love to chat, but I've a job to do! I could spare a moment for my competitors, though, if you're inclined. Care to take part in a race?"
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Don't forget to keep your character's goals/reasons for coming to Highdelve (from the character sheets) in mind while you're interacting with townsfolk.
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Brialla continues to laugh with the kids around the game. Kids are so much more friendly than adults for these types of things
"My name is Brialla, but you can call me Bri if you want. What are your names?
She takes the time to look into each kids face as they introduce themselves, mouthing their names and doing her best to remember each and every one of them.
"Who came up with this game? Do you invent it she askes directly to one of the children in the group.
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The youths laugh, though there's a bit of fear evident in their eyes. "We made it up after we all saw him; he had skin as pale as a sheet and these freaky little horns!" Frieda says. "He was skulking around until the watch came and scared him away. Now people pretend like he was never here - don't want to scare away visitors, I guess. Oops!"
"I'd love to chat, but I've a job to do! I could spare a moment for my competitors, though, if you're inclined. Care to take part in a race?"
"Oh, I apologize! What race are you referring to? I am always eager to compete in an honorabel race!" Torgen says with some confidence in his voice.
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Children are quite perceptive when they need to be...
Not wanting to raise alarm, she attempts to reassure the children.
"Well don't you worry, stuff like that wont scare me away. Besides, I am sure the Watch is very capable of taking care of stuff like that. It is their job afterall!
She leaves the kids to their game, and wanders back over to the 3-legged race.
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"Oh, I apologize! What race are you referring to? I am always eager to compete in an honorabel race!" Torgen says with some confidence in his voice.
"Why, the one you see right in front of you, of course! Care to give it a go?" she says, gesturing to lanes marked on the ground, empty now that the last race has completed. "How about you, young lady?" she adds, seeing Brialla arrive. "Care to join in a sack race?"