20 Rova 4717, Starday, near Sandpoint, the Light of the Lost Coast, Varisia
Claudia
"Enough of this infernal waiting," thought Claudia impatiently. She took a moment, as her priestess had taught her, to center herself, breathe, and do the calming ritual, otherwise the wild-magic might come. She remembered the first time it came, the white-blinding flash, and the burning kitchen of the orphanage and the fear of the unknown that came from within her. More of that inner power was there, she was sure, but it frightened her so to give in, to cut loose the beast inside her, the wild-magic that could be so destructive and so dangerous.
These thoughts did not calm the young girl, who wore the traveling clothes of a pilgrim and stood in the long line, fighting the internal demons that her neighbors in the queue might never see. Trying to remain calm, she looked around at the others nearby. Vendors, merchants, fair-goers, true believers, rubes and rakes, and all manner of people were in the line to enter the city where Claudia had been told to find one who might help her - Ameiko at the Rusty Dragon -- that's what her priestess had said, and that's why she was here.
Unfortunately, it seemed everyone else in all of Varisia was here as well, all crowding to get inside the north gate of the village before the Festival which was scheduled to begin tomorrow. Brightly dressed Varisians caroused up and down the line, unable to stand still long enough to trudge forward with the others. They called to each other warmly, obviously recognizing each other in the easy tribal way they had about themselves. "Must be nice to have family," Claudia thought again to herself. Even if these were merely cousins, at least they had a connection, a sense of belonging, a sense of family that she had never experienced but longed desperately for. She watched the noisy Varisians frolic and caper around.
From behind her, a mountainous Shoanti man, his face and neck marked with dark and eerie tattoos grunted at her. "Move ahead, girl!" the man barked, pushing his cart forward so that it almost bumped into Claudia. His cart was heaped with pies and pastries of all kinds, obviously a baker, come to sell his wares to festival goers of all kinds. For a man who made his living selling sweets, he certainly did not look friendly.
Noticing that during her time reflecting the line had moved a few feet forward, Claudia hurried ahead, and the man behind her inched his cart ahead with a sigh and a groan.
Priscilla
"Some vacation!" said Priscilla crossly. She was so peeved she even spoke the words aloud. She had heard of the coming Festival, and she had seen the crowds on the Lost Coast Road up from Magnimar. Crowds of farmers bringing their harvest to market, or crowds of merchants hopeful to capitalize on the festival-goers good spirits to make a quick crown or even gold sail. But she hadn't expected the crowds to be so thick, all at once.
For a halfling, longshanks crowds could be especially uncomfortable. Folks of her size were easily overlooked when too many humans pressed together, either getting jostled, bumped, or stepped on. So far today, she had been all three and her nerves were getting a bit agitated by it all.
The man in front of her, a heavy set tattooed Shoanti man, has stepped on her toes twice and almost run her over with his bloody cart, which appeared to be full of baked goods, tarts or pies or something. Pris stepped out of line to see how close she was to the stone gatehouse that was cut into the stonewall that protected the north side of this village. She sighed, seeing that there were still many folks between her and the front of the line. Near the gatehouse entrance, two bored looking guardsmen, armed with long spears, lounged on either side, not so busily watching the crowd.
As the line lurched forward again, Priscilla's bright small eyes lit on something she hadn't noticed before. The fat Shoanti's coin purse had worked itself half-out of his trouser pockets. The leather thong that held it shut calling to her like a siren-song. The pouch didn;t look over large or over full, but it promise to help pass the time more quickly, and perhaps pay for the night's lodging, if any was to be had in this little village.
Cutting her eyes back to the guardsmen, and then again back to the pouch of coins, the light-fingered halfling began to visualize what needed to happen for that coin-purse to end up in her own hand. She almost forgot her frustration, and the jostling from behind, while she began to plan the right angles to score a hit, even while on vacation. "Maybe this place isn't so bad after all..." she thought moving forward once again.
"Sorry about that. I was just taking in all the sights. I haven't really ever seen this many people together at one time like this. It's a bit overwhelming."
Better to pretend to be the simple country rube that have him wonder about a girl travelling alone. He'll likely offer me a seat, or a free piece of pie, along with a bunch of advice. Claudia thought to herself as she spoke to the Shoanti man behind her.
Pris haughtily put her hands on her hips, acting indignant even as she processed the information of the environment around her - certainly the high Varisian sun might prove a challenge for her to get into that purse, but if a crowd of longshanks was good for anything, it was cover. And if the guards were this bored, then... well, it was almost too easy.
If she really wanted to teach this doughboy a lesson, she'd just cut all of the coin out of the bottom of the purse. He certainly deserved as much, but if he noticed then he would sound the alarm, tell a guard or something and they'd be on the lookout, and despite Priscilla's dextrous nature, she preferred to not be known as simply a thief. No, no, the smart thing to do would to not be greedy, and simply take a little - perhaps enough for room and board?- and replace it in the pocket. I mean, look at all these people. He'll make that back in no time, no matter how rude he is.
The halfling's legs bent slightly, looking out for an opening. The man certainly didn't seem afraid of letting others know of his frustrations, so she'd wait for someone to draw his ire and simply slip the wallet out. Easy breezy. She wiggled her tiny fingers, waiting for an opening.
Rotomo
The arduous trip from the Cinderlands atop the Storval Plateau where his people, the Shriikirri-Quah made their homes. Driven by his deep connection with nature to join a caravan train, those merchants were headed to Sandpoint. And now here he stood, a stranger in a strange land. This place was filled with rolling wooded hills, marvelous flowing streams, and ancient and wondrous ruins from an earlier epoch. Rotomo stood in the road, outside the stone walls that surrounded this village, not like the massive hexagonal walls around Kaer Maga, but walls nonetheless, but his attention was drawn to the structure that towered over the walls and dominated the skyline of Sandpoint, the ruined lighthouse, known as The Old Light.
That structure, though long ruined and crumbling, radiated a power and resonated with him for some strange reason. Unclear just why, Rotomo felt his gaze and thoughts drawn back there over and over again. When he wasn't distracted by the ruined tower, he watched amused as the strange Varisians ran amok here outside the walls.
Just now, a troupe of acrobats was gearing up for an impromptu performance for those stuck in line, waiting to enter the city. Dressed in bi-color livery of orange and yellow, the troupe started with a human pyramid, stacking it four layers high before splintering the form with a variety of tumbling moves. The crowd clapped, perhaps a little half-heartedly, as they preferred to be inside the walls, after all. Rotomo thought those silly fellows wouldn't last a day in the wilds of his homeland.
The troupe started a few more tricks tumbling on top of each other shoulders, but the druid's eyes kept wandering back to the tower. And there was a strange smell in the wind, something that gave him vague uneasiness, but no clear message. He shook his massive head, trying to clear it. Perhaps this was all just because the place was so different, so new to his experience. But perhaps not...He would need to commune here, with the wind, the birds of the feather, or the sea and sand, to get a feel for this place. Then he could clear his mind, and have the connection with the land he so acutely missed.
Alden
It was an auspicious day for the Varisian swordsman. After his training and indoctrination in the church of Sarenrae, his masters had sent him here, to this sleepy village of Sandpoint, to attend the dedication of the new cathedral here. Though the Dawnflower was only one of the gods celebrated here, the warm sun on his face told the paladin that she smiled upon his mission.
Alden learned long ago about the value of patience. The sun doesn't make the trees grow in a day, but over time the Goddess' blessed sunlight works wonders inside the leaves of trees, feeding us all. In that way, it was best to think of the long term, rather than the immediate. As such, waiting in the queue, that spread back as far as he could see, did not bother him.
The half-Varisian man smiled as he saw the acrobats begin performance. They were loud and raucous and reminded him of the village children in the keep where he was raised. He was never allowed to be boisterous, and always was kept busy training with the blade and the quintain. He did often hear the others though, playing or singing or dancing in their carefree manner.
Watching closely, Alden was enraptured by the the antics of the troupe and reached for his purse to pay them a gratuity of some kind for the performance. As he turned,he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the children. He looked again, and saw the little waifs working the line behind where the acrobats worked. As the onlookers watched the show, the children pilfered from their various wares or purses, It was all a scam!
Biding his time until they got closer, Alden soon had the little hoodlums within his lunging distance. They seemed to be rather small children, perhaps aged 8 or 10 years.
"Sorry about that. I was just taking in all the sights. I haven't really ever seen this many people together at one time like this. It's a bit overwhelming."
Better to pretend to be the simple country rube that have him wonder about a girl travelling alone. He'll likely offer me a seat, or a free piece of pie, along with a bunch of advice. Claudia thought to herself as she spoke to the Shoanti man behind her.
"Save your apologies, girl." says the man quite crossly. Obviously his patience with this line is wearing quite thin. "Step aside, if you can't keep up with the line."
To Claudia's surprise, she sees the small form of a halfling right behind the angry Shoanti pieman. Trying not to stare, she watches with her peripheral vision as the wee lass works the man's coinpurse from his trousers with a deft confidence.
When the line shifts forward, she moves along, but takes frequent glances over her shoulder. Beside her, a Varisian acrobatics troupe is putting on a solid performance, and she watches them in wonder along with many of the others in the line.
Priscilla
Easing the leather bag out carefully, Priscilla is able to remove the entire purse without alerting the man, who is crossly scolding a girl in front of him. Snatching the bag quietly before it lands on the ground, Priscilla likes the feel of the weight of the coins in her hand. Untying the leather thong, as the crowd shuffles forward a few more steps, she sees a good mix of Copper Pinch, Silver Stags and Gold Sails in the bag. She turns her back to the line for an instant to count the coins as surreptitiously as possible.
Behind her she notes another Shoanti man, this one with an enormous corded neck and broad strong shoulders. He is younger the man in front of her, and seems to be staring off into space a bit, lost in his own thoughts as the afternoon minutes tick by.
Priscilla finds about 30 pennies, 12 silver coins and 7 gold ones inside the bag. Her attention is distracted for a moment as the crowd claps and cheers a group of brightly-garbed acrobats who seem to be entertaining the folks behind her.
Rotomo stoically waits for the line to move and though as he glanced at the acrobats, "Fools" He shut his eyes and took another deep breath trying to pinpoint his feelings of uneasiness and shook his head in consternation and returned his gaze to the lighthouse.
Claudia takes the rude pie man's suggestion and moves out of his way, directly behind him while apologizing profusely and even starting to tear up a bit.
When she gets behind the cart, she will move to keep pace with the Halfling and say quietly to her "Hopefully he will have better manners now that you have freed him from all that heavy metal that was weighing him down." she then smiles at Priscilla and then sticks out her tongue in the general direction of the cart.
A bit louder, she will say "Hello, my name is Claudia. All of these people seem to be really enjoying the festival!"
After a brief moment of panic that she may have been spotted, Priscilla grins widely as the tall young woman comments on the rudeness of the man. "Agreed, too many of these janky things can cause quite the annoyance." She removes approximately half of the coin from the purse, and surreptitiously holds them out to Claudia. "Wouldn't want to become too awfully tempered myself, would I?" With a wink, Priscilla places the rest in her own light coin bag. "The name's Priscilla, but friends call me Pris!" She looks around at the crowd. "Well, if nothing else, there certainly seems to be a lot of them, so my expectations are high. Though if they're all as rude as Mister Baker... Well, that's just bad business."
Rotomo
Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, the big Shoanti fellow tries to connect with the earth here in this green place, even with the noise of the crowd and the antics of the foolish acrobats, he starts to feel the sensation, a tingling in his feet, a expansion of his mind, a freeing of himself from the body he possess, but just as he is getting the right feeling, he is interrupted, feeling a gentle - barely there really - tugging on his own coinpurse.
Claudia and Priscilla
The line eventually creeps forward, the Shoanti pie-man never missing his leather bag full of coins. As it snakes slowly forward, the ladies can see the two guards, sweltering in the mid-Rova sun, which is unseasonably warm today. The guards lean blankly on spears, bored and sleepily watching the fair goers stream into the village. What could there possibly be to protect the village from in this crowd?
The little stone guardhouse has a portal that allows those who wish to enter Sandpoint to enter. Hanging from a bent nail in the tunnel is a sign and a mirror -- painted on the sign is a message, "Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!"
Claudia nods and pockets half the coins, after dropping a couple of the coppers into her belt pouch.
"Oh, I doubt they'll all be that rude Pris. Most people here look like they're having fun, and festivals seem to be a great time to blow off steam."
As they pass by the mirror, Claudia will stop and check her appearance in the mirror. To a passerby, she just looks like a girl checking herself in a mirror, but Claudia thinks to herself I need to make sure my clothes aren't giving too much away. as she checks her "disguise".
Claudia is wearing frumpy, baggy clothes that make her look overweight. She wears a Tianese wide brim peasant hat, and she leans on a staff as she walks, which has words and pictures carved into it, including Hang in there! with a cartoonish picture of a cat hanging from a tree branch, and The sun will rise tomorrow. with a sun and cloud sword fighting.
A lot of things were new to the Northman. Having grown up near Varisia's northern most boarder, he was use to many months of frost and colder climates. Much like the other half of his blood, he was accustomed to the frigid winters of the North and the bleak beauties that covered the landscape even in the most green of months. Fleeing moments of color before it vanished again. His youth in the grey stone walls spoke much of that.
But it seemed everywhere he went in these southern lands there was a new sight to see. Performers, street vendors and even the heavy draw of so many different people were somewhat new to him. He'd seen more people in a day at the church of his training than he'd seen in a year back home, but here it was almost like a brand new world filled with new kinds of people and races he'd only ever heard of in texts or word of mouth.
Only now he was faced with the first real issue of such large crowds. Back home some boys had tried this very thing many years ago. They were lashed severely for it and while at the time he accepted it as simply the way things were, he couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy. His teachers had told him that even the simplest of evils were sometimes done simply out of necessity. Survival was not evil in the harsh places of the world. It simply was.
So as the waifs came closer he remained patient, seeming distracted by the crowds all around him. He took the time to slip his coin purse into the collar of his shirt under his armor so it was securely against his skin and behind the metal and leather. When they got within his reach he pulled his pack aside and stooped, looking at the children as they crossed in front of him and showed some of his trail rations for them to see, "You look hungry. Care for a bit to eat? I have plenty to share if you like."
The breeze carried the smell of the sea to Rotomo and his mind begins to be carried away the west ward wind. He is drawn back to the moment by the almost imperceptible tug on his purse and abruptly turns toward the suspected thief. With a voice like thunder he warns, "I am not "
"I hope so," mutters Priscilla softly. "There's only so much salt a weefolk can take." As they step into the tunnel, Pris just takes a moment to look up into the mirror and put her hands on her hips, a little indignantly. 'See yourself as we see you'? What are they trying to get at, here?
The short halfling did not look overtly threatening, even with her unstrung compound bow slung over her shoulder, and her oversize traveling cloak practically scraping the ground as she walked (even after she had trimmed it to be short enough for her stature). Of course, the light, sandy-brown cloak didn't just protect her from the sun's punishing rays, but also hid her silhouette when she was resting in shadow (as well as the half dozen daggers on her person). Her traveling clothes were worn and dusty, but not stained, and her pack was a simple messenger's bag that was pulled tight against her side and back, with her quiver attached to it. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a plain ponytail, and her face was set with a playful smile as she made a face at herself in the mirror. To most, she expected she might appear as a ranger, someone comfortable in the roughness of nature - which, of course, was exactly the look she was going for.
Alden
Setting his purse safely inside his armored cuirass, Alden sees the children performing larceny, and rather than getting angry or self-righteous, he takes a bit ot the hard tack and jerky he travels with and lays it out, trying to appease what he assumes must be hungry children.
Soon the young burglars on upon him, and instead of cutting his purse, the children -- one is boy and the other a girl, maybe twins? -- give the armored warrior a strange look, hesitating for just a moment, then running ahead, coins jangling as they bounce along.
It isn't but a few moments later that Alden hears the thunderous below from just ahead, and sees a mighty Shoanti man standing fiercely over one of the little rogues, the girl it seems, who has fallen on her back next to him on the road.
The noise stops the makes-shift acrobatic performance and the entire crowd stops chattering away at once, all eyes turning to the scene in where the young, but massive man threatens the girl whose hand is still on his purse string as she lays where she stumbled.
Rotomo
As he turns and rages at the thief who disturbed his meditation, Rotomo bellows in a loud voice, which echoes off the close-by walls, gaining the attention of anyone who happens to be nearby. The crowd, whose constant chattering sounded like the great sea bird migrations he saw in the steppes of his homeland, grew silent all at once, the silence nearly deafening.
The would-be thief, nothing more than a young girl of 10 or so really, lay trembling on the ground, holding the leather thong of Rotomo's coin bag and trembling with fear as she looked up at the massive, rock-hard. man towering above her.
All eyes watched to see what the big man would do next...
"Maybe I was wrong." says Claudia to Pris, before turning to see what all the fuss is about. Seeing the young girl laying on the ground and the massive Shoanti man towering over him, Claudia moves over to see if she can help.
"Oh, I see you've caught a thief! It's a good thing, too. I'd hate for someone to lose their pocket money."
Claudia moves up to the girl and winks at her before saying "I'm pretty sure the law here is plain; I'm sure she'll get several years of hard labor for trying to feed herself. If you wish to press charges, I'm sure the constable's fine men will be happy to come and collect the young girl. It's okay, hard labor will make her strong; or break her, but either way, justice is served right?"
"But then again, one wonders what such a thing would do to the festival. People would be afraid to spend money, lest it their purses be stolen. I'm sure this lovely village has spent a great amount of money preparing for this festival, and they hope to get their money back by having goods available for purchase. If no one is willing to spend any money, well... that will likely not go so well for them. I mean, I don't live here, so it won't effect me any, but I'm sure the people here are not wealthy."
Finally, she turns and looks Rotomo straight in the eye and says "Or, perhaps this young girl simply found your dropped coin purse and was attempting to return it? Isn't that equally likely? Please mighty Shoanti warrior, tell us what has occurred with this small child. We await your story with eager ears."
The Shoanti glared down at young thief pausing as he considers her fate and the harsh punishment she would receive in the eyrie of his Quah when his thoughts are interrupted by a plump woman in a silly hat.
He kept his silence as she rambled on and thought, Birds of a feather flock together. When the woman finished her words Rotomo reached down, in silence, and retrieved his coin purse from the frightened child and tucked it away in his belt.
The large man glanced back down at the prone girl and a crooked smile danced across his sinister face as he imparted, "The tallest tree in the world started out growing in the dirt." With the crowd still staring at him, he continued to ignore the woman in the hat and silently returned his gaze to the lighthouse. He crossed his meaty arms and muttered, "I am not prey"
Priscilla followed closely behind Claudia towards the tall Shoanti man, wanting to see what all the fuss was about for herself. "Awful technique," she mumbles, looking at the young thief - though maybe she shouldn't be judging the thievery skills of a child. "Not to worry, my good sir, I am certain that no one here believes you to be prey! In fact, you look as though you could tear a wild bear in twain with just your... bare hands!" Pris giggles softly to herself, even as she nervously made sure she could exit his immediate vicinity into the crowd if she had to.
"And I pray to never see the thing that would consider you prey." says Claudia before patting Rotomo on the bicep and then returning to her spot in line.
Stepping from line he followed the sounds of the bellowing back several paces before seeing one of the younger thieves on her back with a large man standing over her. With his left hand he hooks his thumb over his belt, not far from his sword but not close enough to instigate more of an issue from the angry man standing like a great raging statue over the tiny slip of a girl. Nearby a woman seemed to be trying to ease the giant's wrath while a halfling looked both interested and somewhat fearful (something he considered entirely prudent given the size difference).
With great care he stepped over to the slight gathering as the woman started to walk her own way. Gently he stooped down, trusting his luck with steel more than the barbarian's bulging neck and what looked like a club, and put his hands on the small child to lift her up to her feet once more, "Easy, child. No one's going to hurt you today." He gave her a gentle smile and started to pat some of the dirt from her as he got righted on her own two legs.
Clasping her shoulders gently as not to scare her, but not let her go running off either he spoke softly to her, "Why don't you give me the purses you've taken, hm? In return I'll give you a little something for your trouble and a promise that if you come by the temple later, I'll see about getting you a meal and a cot that's a bit more permanent. Your friend too if he likes. How's that sound?" He held out his hand in front of her, hoping she'd take the offer.
In fact, you look as though you could tear a wild bear in twain with just your... bare hands!"
Rotomo is distracted from his thoughts and catches the last part of the halfling's remarks and responded, "Why would I want to tear a bear in half?" While he watched the woman in the hat move back to her place in line and grunted, "Strange."
Alden
The would-be thief accepts Alden's help up, but only looks at him dismissively when he asks for the coin purses to be returned. Her brother joins her and says, "Our family needs this money to eat, mister. Not just for one night in a cot in your church. Bianca will not give back the money, nor should she. She earned it fairly from those not careful enough with their things. My uncles would not approve if they worked so hard to earn this coin and then my sister just returned it." He nods to the Varisian acrobats who have returned to the performance after the outburst from Rotomo seems to have subsided.
He grabs his sister's hand and skips off, back to the rear of the line where a large covered wagon rocks slowly forward along the track, pulled by a pair of large oxen.
Claudia
Returning to the line and trying hard to mind your own business, its not long before someone taps you on the shoulder mildly. There stands a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman, with dark eyes, the lines around her face deeper than perhaps she would like. Her Varisian beauty is hard to deny, even if she has crept up to near middle age.
"I am Esmerelda." she says taking your hand. "You did not have to stand up for my children, but you did. For that, you have my gratitude." She presses something small and shiny into your palm, lifting your hand to hers to do it. "Take this as a token. If you need help from my family, show this to them, and they will give what aid they can. And, child, my family is very large." She spreads her arms wide, motioning to all the people moving through the queue into Sandpoint. "Again, I say thank you." And with that, she gives a little bow, and scampers back, barefooted, to the wagon train her colorful skirts and scarves blowing in the wind behind her.
"I was glad to do it. No sense in anyone getting killed at a festival!" Claudia says with a smile, then waves as Esmerelda returns to her people. Must be nice to have a family. pops a stray thought into Claudia's head. It's an old thought, though, and she quickly shakes her head and moves into Sandpoint, nodding to Pris as she does.
"So, shall we see about getting some accomedations? our generous benefactor was kind today."
Claudia
The token the woman passed to you is a small brooch or cloak clasp that is in the shape of a small silver butterfly.
"I certainly wouldn't mind at least a drink," Pris nods in return, grinning, "And I'm sure that our generous friend would want us only to have the finest wines and dines in town. Have you ever been here before?" She asks, a bit curious.
"No, I'm here looking for someone; her name is Ameiko, and she apparently owns a bar of some kind."
"Ameiko, you say?" Pris strokes her chin ponderously. "Well, if she owns a bar, I'm sure there's only so many that could be around - and on a day like today, she'd definitely be hurting business if she wasn't tending to it. We can ask around!"
The big Shoanti passed through the gatehouse refusing to look into the mirror. The massive man strode forward towering a full head over most of those entering the gates.
The druid is broad shouldered and deep of chest, with a massive corded neck and heavily muscled limbs. His skin is ruddy from constant exposure to the elements and is covered in tribal tattoos that accentuate the hard, dangerous lines of his body. Although he is a big man, Rotomo moves with the grace of a large cat and has the predatory gaze of a wolf. He has smoldering green eyes which are set below a low and broad brow. His gloomy, scarred, almost sinister face is that of a warrior. The Shoanti wears his head shaven like many of his Quah and wears furs and hides with a spear used like a walking stick.
As the children left he watched them go with a scowl. Not for them, they were doing as they were told. Loyal to family despite the places it took them. Instead he cast his eye over the acrobats and other performers. Uncles the boy had said. His left hand found the handle of his sword and his thumb toyed with the guard were it met the scabbard a moment as he considered those words. He would remember both their Uncles and their sense of fairness for later, of that he had no doubt.
Turning back to follow the group headed into the gatehouse he noticed the mirror hung there. His reflection was as he expected after his long trip. Saddle worn but still well made scale armor with a dove etched on the single pauldron on his left shoulder. His shield on his back and belt adorned with daggers and pouches for his rations, he knew he needed to take time to shake the grit and grime of the road from himself. Even to work on the stubble on his chin if he could find the time. He was just grateful he'd tied his hair up behind his head so it wasn't a consideration.
But turning from the mirror to move further in, he was excited in equal measure to see his new posting and to sleep in a warm dry bed for the first time in weeks.
Priscilla and Claudia
Upon entering the village, the first thing seen by the pair of newcomers is a sizable inn and tavern. A pair of wooden life-sized deer, carved with painstaking care from white birch, stand astride the gate to this place. The deer are rearing upwards, their forehooves and antlers touching to form an arch above the gateway. The building which is three stories tall, a stone first floor and two wooden ones above, is surrounded by a split rail fence and has a wide veranda that opens to the street. A crowd of fairgoers has lined up in the dooryard of the inn, and many more are filling the veranda and front room.
A large Shoanti man, wearing a pressed white apron, stands on the front porch, greeting new arrivals.
Rotomo
Ducking his head under the stone lintels of the gateway, Rotomo sees the crowded inn on his right, and the small guardhouse, where a few more city guardsmen stand, on his left. But his eyes are still drawn to the ruined lighthouse that towers above the rest of the city. Built on the last spit of land before the ground drops off to the Gulf of Varisia, the Old Light must have stood over 500 ft tall, but today less than a fifth of that remains, with blocks of stone and rubble strewn all about its base.
As Rotomo walks through the crowds of fair-goers, merchants, tradesmen and others, he seems to have fixed on a single purpose. He is so entranced that he hardly notices a man speaking to him, "Impressive isn't it. I had the same reaction when I first came to this place. I am Quink, Brodert Quink. Its a pleasure to meet someone who has such a deep interest in the Old Light as I do." The man is on the elderly side, with a bald pate, and fringes of long white hair. His bushy mustache and well coiffed beard are also white. He wears a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and peers over the top of them when speaking to the hulking druid. A orange tabby cat is curled on Quink's shoulder, it's tail tickling him under the chin.
Alden
Stepping inside the walls of Sandpoint, Alden is overwhelmed by the size of the crowds there. More Varisians and merchants have spread throughout the upper level of the village which drops in elevation as you head toward the sea to the south. The thing that most grabs Alden's eye is the fine new Cathedral which is set to open tomorrow. The building is made in three wings with an open air courtyard in the center. Amazing stained glass windows, like none he has ever seen, line the outside of the cathedral. it is perhaps the most spectacular building he has ever seen.
The yard outside the church is a bustle of activity as workmen prepare long trestle tables and viewing stands for the dedication on the morrow. Much of that work is going on around the crowds who have gathered for the festival. Merchant stalls, tents, and wagon have positioned themselves wherever room permits, selling all manner of wares, and competing to shout the loudest to attract the most customers.
A man in a ankle-length blue cassock stands on the cathedral steps speaking with another Shoanti fellow in a guard uniform. They are pointing and discussing something as they come into Alden's view.
Rotomo looked down at the old man and nodded his head in greeting, "I am called Rotomo and I am of the Shriikirri-Quah." He squinted as he looked back up at the lighthouse and averted his gaze for a second and asked, I feel drawn to it. Does it pull at you the same way?" He doesn't give the man a chance to answer and immediately followed with, "What do you know about the structure?"
Rotomo
Quink smiles at the powerful tribesman. "I see. It calls to you does it, interesting. It calls to me also, but perhaps for different reasons. Come with me to my study and I'll show you what I know about this old thing. It is very old, Rotomo. Older than any other thing in Sandpoint, but centuries."
He beckons for you to follow, and making his way through the crowd, Quink leads you down a side street past a jeweler's shop, and closer to the base of the ancient structure. There a small shack acts as half-living quarters and half-library for the sage. "I am an engineer by training, studied with the dwarves of Janderhoff for years, but have spent the last good many studying old ruins all across Varisia, like this one. I think they date back to the ancient Thassilonian empire."
Quink pulls out some books, papers, and old drawings of the light, before Sandpoint was built around it. "I'll tell you what I think, Rotomo. I don't think this place was a lighthouse at all. I think it was a..." And before he can finish, Quink is interrupted by a loud knocking at this own front door. "Rubbish, now who can that be? Interrupting my seminar like this? Well, one moment and I'll send them away..." He turns to the door, allowing Rotomo a good look at the notes and drawings.
Priscilla rubs her chin and smiles as she looks at the large building, admiring the archway. She looks up at Claudia, grinning, and nudges her shin. "That certainly looks like a place we might get some info, eh?" The halfling confidently strides forward, ponytail bouncing lightly as she does so. "Even if she doesn't own it, bars 're always good places to pick up information. I bet rumors and adventurers grow off of the walls in places like this."
"Excuse me sir, I am here looking for a woman by the name of Ameiko, who apparently runs some sort of bar or inn in this city. Could you please point me in her direction?"
To Pris, she adds "I am certainly hopeful this nice gentleman can point a young person like myself in the right direction." she says with a smile.
Grateful for the opportunity to get away from the jostling of the crowds on the streets Rotomo followed Quint. He listens to the man ramble on about the lighthouse and thought, He chirps and chirps like a young bird calling to the morning sun. The large man's ears are grateful for the distracting knock and the Druid examined the documents in peace.
In the northern lands cities were not so busy. There was always a kind of determined motion even in the bitterest of cold months, but there was never this level of chaos. This city might well have had more people in one square than lived in the keep and surrounding villages where he grew up. But that wasn't entirely surprising to him.
Most people in the village wintered within the keep's outer wall in a smaller gathering of buildings that lay deserted in warmer months because of the thick snows. Having a second home for four or sometimes five months a year was surprising to most people. Just as this was to him. It was all relative.
Stepping to the two men who seems to speak so animatedly Alden took several steps up, holding his left hand on his blade to steady it as he walked. He came to a halt several feet from the pair, waiting in plain sight but respectfully separated, awaiting acknowledgement at their leisure.
Claudia and Priscilla
The man wipes his hands on his apron and bends to listen to your question over the din of the crowd. When he hears you, a vile sneer crosses his chiseled face.
"Ameiko! You ask ME about that witch? Who sent you here, eh? Off with you! Run back to your little trickster and tell her my inn is full and hers is, well...it's not even a fair competition."
The man looks very cross at first causing you to flinch a bit at his reaction, but you can see him trying to pull himself back together, and by the end of his tirade, he is seemingly mild-mannered again but it's apparent he will brook no foolishness from you, and even turns his back on you without another word, speaking to another customer behind you, a handsome wealthy gentlemen with an air of noblity about him.
"Why yes, I am from the Foxglove family. Well-born and well-bred. I expect only the finest accommodations here, innkeep. My man will pay for it all of course, I cash is acceptable..." the nobleman laughs heartily even though no one else does, and pushes his way through the crowd, ascending the stairs to the rooms above with a haughty air.
You remain on the porch, amongst the crowd of party-goers, a bit taken aback by the reaction you received.