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The morning is beautiful. Birds sing, children run around the square and many people move around the square putting finishing touches on stalls and events. The air is brisk and life seems as if it could not get any better. As you look around you notice that some of the stalls are open. A few arts & crafts stalls along with one or two food stands are open for breakfast. People are starting to show up from town and the square is beginning to fill with laughter and warm greetings.
Entering the square, Anaach breathes deep and smiles. This man stands at nearly six and a half feet in height and wears a cloth from his right shoulder, across his chest and wrapped around his waist in place of a shirt, a pair of cloth pants which stop just below the knee and heavy-looking sandals which wrap up and around his calves.
On his back is a pack, holding his armor and necessities, Carrying both of these weapons in his left hand, Anaach has both a battle axe, and a spear. These weapons have a leather wrap which starts just below the head and goes all the way to the end, stained near black with sweat.
Approaching one of the stalls, Anaach purchases a skewer of meat
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The man at the stall eyes Anaach and the weapons he holds openly in his hands. He looks like he is about to say something when asked for some meat. His demeanor brightens and he gladly gets Anaach a skewer.
"Best in town I tell you! Wont find a finer feast this side of Magnimar!" He puffs out his chest as he talks loudly!
Alitsa looks absently at the square, watching the sunlight make its slow progression from cart to cart. Kenzie never came home last night. Third time this week. I told her she's going to get in trouble, hanging out with that crowd. She should just come back home; it'd make dad so much more relaxed. She's jolted from her thoughts by the huge, armed figure walking into the square. Her hand on her sword-hilt, she calls to mind a quick prayer to offer her protection, and just as quickly lets it go as the man walks to a stall and buys some food.
Adjusting her blue and white robesand headdress, and making her ankh holy symbol conspicuous, Alitsa approaches the man. "Greetings, traveler. Truly a blessed day, is it not? Where do you hail from, friend?"
The massive man reaches down into his belt pouch, pulling out a few copper pieces and passing them over, he bites into the juicy meat and smiles, nodding.
"It must be as you say, sir. I would be proud to serve food such as this." he replies
Anaach is too distracted by the rest of the crowd and the festivities to notice the boast. When the priestess approaches him he looks slightly wary, having seen her grip her sword, but dismisses it as a normal Varisian response.
A deep voice rumbles from the bearded giant, as he nods to the first question, "Hello, miss. This is a day of festivity. I am Anaach Sklar-Quah. He gives a small smile, knowing his name was the answer to her question.
Marin takes in the square at a glance.
I wonder what's going on. Seems important
Looking around, he spots a group of people talking. He adjusts his bag and the sword at his hip. If only my brothers could see me now, what ever would they think.
Approaching slowly, he speaks up with a smile: "Excuse me, don't meant to interrupt, but you wouldn't know what is happening here would you?"
The Shoanti warrior half turns and looks down at Marin when he speaks, "It is a celebration of a god or goddess I believe. The caravan that I traveled here with spoke of it."
One thing Marin, as a bard, would notice is the Shoanti symbol, half burned half tattooed into Anaach's face. This symbol is one that basically translates to fallen warrior, and is a mark of banishment.
Taking a second bite of the delicious kebab, Anaach adjusts his pack by leaning the two weapons against his thigh and the bare left half of his chest to free up a hand.
Marin looks at the clearly Shoanti man. Spotting the symbol on his face surprises him. What's a banished Shoanti warrior doing here. No, no, shouldn't pry too much.
He then turns and takes in the scene more closely.
Spotting the Desnan symbols placed around the square and remembering the time of year, Marin says:
"Oh right. The Swallowtail festival. I should have known, but I get lost in my own thoughts sometimes. It's a celebration of Desna, so maybe luck will be on our side today" he smiles.
Lars was ecstatic. The scene was vibrant, and full of color. People he'd never knew or seen were arriving, and... there was more to these people. They're like me. he thought to himself, half-believing it. Looking around as he walked, he noticed the 3 people that had gathered, a large man among them, taller than most that he'd met. He took a moment to admire the strength that he seemed to wield, and before he'd noticed himself, he'd already walked up to them, mask and all.
He wasn't at all concerned, either, even if he'd managed to walk, clanking forward in his makeshift armor. Hearing the last bit of their conversation, he did know about the festival upwards, and before he could really hold back, he sank his greatsword into the ground, rather deep and between the smooth rock road.
Placing a hand on it, he just said. "Festival!" presenting his hand about. In an unusual display of interest, he plucked his recently fashioned dagger out of his pack at his hip, and gently presented it to one of the 3, marveling at it a bit, making it seem more than what it was, but, it was more of an eccentric habit than... whatever he was doing.
"What'chu think?" he asks, presenting the dagger with too many holes in it. "Jistis Kis Kis Talral Matakazi, Haha?"
The garbled tongue is strange, and grating on the nerves, somewhat, but mostly unusual.
The rust-armored man with a greatsword and an ivory mask walks up and thrusts the massive blade into the ground. Anaach is not exceptionally happy about the way this man acts. The man says festival, and then proceeds to babble incoherently...while pulling out a bizarre dagger.
He flexes with his thigh and the two-handed ax falls into his left hand with a gentle slapping noise, and he grips the spear with his right. This movement seems so natural that he just seems to be adjusting his weaponry, though he just feels uncomfortable around the man.
"Sir, I do not understand what you are saying." Anaach's simple, yet blunt statement does a poor job of disguising his displeasure about the situation.
As the seeming madman in the mask displays the dagger, Alitsa takes it by the hilt. "Thank you? Can you slow down? I'm having a some trouble understanding what you're saying."She hefts the dagger, thinking that's what he wants, and hands it back. "It's a very nice knife." She turns her head back to the big man. "Pleasant days, Anaach. I'm called Alitsa Gratia. And yes, today is the Swallowtail Festival, though I can't say I'm a follower of Desna. More a woman of the sun, I am. Still, Father Zantus is going to speak soon, and until then, the town's opened itself to you, newcomers and locals alike. I for one am going to see what the craft stalls have to offer." Alitsa bows slightly at the others before walking to a craft stall.
Remy steps out of the Rusty Dragon where he's been loafing all morning. He takes a deep breath and savors all of the delicious smells on the wind. He decides to wander to the town square to find someone to pester or, even better, play a prank.
Seeing the town so busy and excited is nice. His trained eyes quickly catch sight of a young woman he's never met. With lightning speed, he procures a flower from a homefront planter as he passes and approaches the priestess at the craft stall with a rolling swagger. He bows deeply to the woman and extends the flower. "M'lady, I present you this token, inadequate though it be for a girl of your beauty. I am Remy and I am at your service. May I have the honor of showing around the festival?" He extends his arm as if the priestesses acquiescence is a foregone conclusion. In the stall, the craftswoman - to whom Remy's rakishness is not unknown - rolls her eyes.
"Ah." he says deadpan. Looking down and away, scratching his head as the woman walks away, he turns back to the built man. He knew full well what the sudden movements meant, and then looked back at his dagger.
"Wanted. Wanted to show you dagger. Have weapons. Like me, yes? Curious. Like dagger?" he asks, presenting the weapon to the large man, before pulling it back. "Hmm..." he looks at it closely, before pocketing it. "Too small. Small. For you, yes?" he asks as he places a single hand on the rusty greatsword, drawing it out of the ground, and presenting it, hilt first, flat in his hands to the man. "Made this, I did. Like it?"
His antisocial nature screams through with the blaze of a thousand suns.
"Ah... Earlier. Goblin tongue. Sorry."
Alitsa blushes a little as a handsome man approaches her. "I'm...I'm afraid you have the wrong girl. You want my sister, she's much prettier than..." Seeing that the man is certainly talking to her, she sighs. "Oh, very well. But only around the festival, and if you try anything untoward, I'll have to say my goodbyes."
Setting the rules for their morning together, she slips her left arm between his right and his torso and places the flower in her headdress. I'll try to dazzle him a little. Maybe that'l keep him respectful. "Alitsa Gratia, the high cleric of Sarenrae here in Sandpoint. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Have you met Anaach? He's the big man over there. We should go talk to him and his friends!"
She steers Remy back toward the conversation, abandoning the crafts stall. And I was looking forward to whatever she was selling. Ah well, better safe than sorry with one like this!
"Anaach, I found a friend! Meet Remy. I believe he's a local, like me. Did you find out what this other one's name is?" She points at Lars with her free hand, offering to shake with the strange man. "I apologize, sir. I may have come across as rude. It's just such as exciting day today!"
"Ah..." While lars understood the gesture, he'd never actually shaken a hand before. He extends his hand, grasping her whole hand, gripping it strongly and shaking up and down slowly, studying the entire thing. "Hm... Lars. Name is Lars.. Meet you. Nice to meet, yeah?" he asks, not really stopping the hand shaking.
while entering the small town, Alaer picks up his young son, and enters the square, watching the festival being set up. He then points at the stalls and says "go enjoy yourself" then he smiles a fatherly smile, and tells his wife to watch over Tanrov while Alaer goes to Sheriff Hemlock. "Everything going as planned, Belor?" he then puts up a friendly smile, and puts out his hand for him to shake.
"Every time I come to this town, it just makes me happy and impressed, how your community helped build this town, I want to see that done everywhere in varasia, dont you think?"
"Ah." he says deadpan. Looking down and away, scratching his head as the woman walks away, he turns back to the built man. He knew full well what the sudden movements meant, and then looked back at his dagger.
"Wanted. Wanted to show you dagger. Have weapons. Like me, yes? Curious. Like dagger?" he asks, presenting the weapon to the large man, before pulling it back. "Hmm..." he looks at it closely, before pocketing it. "Too small. Small. For you, yes?" he asks as he places a single hand on the rusty greatsword, drawing it out of the ground, and presenting it, hilt first, flat in his hands to the man. "Made this, I did. Like it?"
His antisocial nature screams through with the blaze of a thousand suns.
"Ah... Earlier. Goblin tongue. Sorry."
Once again leaning the spear against himself, he grips the greatsword. Anaach's biceps bulge as he takes the iron from the Lars. Muscles appear to have to move out of the way of other muscles when he flexes. He weighs it thoughtfully and then passes it back, "Good weight and reach. Poorly cared for. Not a bad weapon." he says, and hefts his battle ax and turns it sideways to show the gleaming, oiled, razor-sharp head to Lars. The weapon appears to have been cared for like a child.
She steers Remy back toward the conversation, abandoning the crafts stall. And I was looking forward to whatever she was selling. Ah well, better safe than sorry with one like this!"Anaach, I found a friend! Meet Remy. I believe he's a local, like me. Did you find out what this other one's name is?" She points at Lars with her free hand, offering to shake with the strange man. "I apologize, sir. I may have come across as rude. It's just such as exciting day today!"
The veritable giant once again turns, after letting the Greataxe's shaft thump back to the dust. "Hello Remy," The tanned fellow says, extending an enormous hand to Remy, "Yes, Alitsa, I did. This man is named Lars."
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"... And I was looking forward to whatever she was selling. Ah well, better safe than sorry with one like this!..."
The crafter at the tent goes to say something to Alitsa but sees her move off looking a little disappointed. "Well shucks." He smiles anyway. Who knows.. it was going to be a good day, she would be back.
"they are well, the town is getting more raid attempts every month, the goblins are trying to raise the town to the ground, thats what i think at least.
The problem is that we dont have walls to protect our people, so we have to keep increasing the numbers of patrols, and its thinning our numbers dry. The farmers have to hold up weapons to protect their town but then, we will start to die out, we cant up hold their swarm of attacks, maybe the area is too close to a goblin village or something" Then he perceives Two men holding up big swords and talking, "Heavily armed Visitors, That's interesting, Isn't it?" He then points at the Shoanti barbarian and the Great-Sword Wielder .
Every Few minutes, he checks around to know where his son and wife are to ensure their safety.
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Hemlock nods at Alaer's deiscription of what is happening in the area and then follows Alaer's finger to the two men with weapons.
"It is a festival that attracts many people, I am not surprised. One is a man by the name of Larz. An odd one he is. But I must get back to my duties. Please have fun today. We have guards around all day so do not fear. Be with your family!" He walks back up on stage and continues preparing things.
Alaer nods in agreement, this was the first time in a long while Alaer got to relax
Then he walks to any stand that sells candy, and he brings Tanrov with him. "What do you have today for this young little hero"
As he smiles to his son, Tanrov starts picking the most colored candy there is.
Lars absolutely marvels at the care and sheen of the massive axe. Putting his sword back in the ground, he somewhat presents his hands, hoping the enormous man would let him have a better look at it. He wants such a better look that he raises his mask to the top of his head to reveal his handsome face, eyes wide in adoration.
"That's... Pretty." he manages. "Even weight. Wrapped. Sharpened. Good tools... used." he says as he looks at the weapon from a bunch of different angles. "Leather wrap... oiled? Oiled. Cared for... Hmm. Hmm." he seems in deep, somewhat alien thought. Though it seems he's just found his next project.
After a moment, he pats his fist on his open palm, and quietly assures himself that he's making an axe next. A good one! After that he realizes he's actually talking to someone that's willing to suffer him, and he plans on milking it. "Ah, eh. What brings... You. To... Festival?" he asks as he finds the proper words.
Alitsa laughs as Lars shakes her hand. "It's nice to meet you too, Lars. ow Remy, you said you were going to show me around. Perhaps there's a favorite stall somewhere you'd like to go to, or a game we could play?"
Alarion sauntered out the Red Dragon where he has been staying the past couple months , when he noticed the heavily strangers in town. The festivities draw all types of people from around and truth be told it was nice to see new people. He nodded to Alaer who has seen time to time and snapped his fingers to bring a flame to his finger and which he lite his pipe, "Hi everyone, do you mind if I join you for the festivities."
Lars absolutely marvels at the care and sheen of the massive axe. Putting his sword back in the ground, he somewhat presents his hands, hoping the enormous man would let him have a better look at it. He wants such a better look that he raises his mask to the top of his head to reveal his handsome face, eyes wide in adoration.
"That's... Pretty." he manages. "Even weight. Wrapped. Sharpened. Good tools... used." he says as he looks at the weapon from a bunch of different angles. "Leather wrap... oiled? Oiled. Cared for... Hmm. Hmm." he seems in deep, somewhat alien thought. Though it seems he's just found his next project.
After a moment, he pats his fist on his open palm, and quietly assures himself that he's making an axe next. A good one! After that he realizes he's actually talking to someone that's willing to suffer him, and he plans on milking it. "Ah, eh. What brings... You. To... Festival?" he asks as he finds the proper words.
Anaach would, with great reluctance allow the man to handle the weapon, if only because of the awe with which he looked at the object. Seeing the mans face beneath the mask also helps to put Anaach at ease
After hearing the question Anaach thinks for a short period before responding with a short sentance, "There was talk of work in Sandpoint"
Searching the area with his eyes, after retrieving his ax, he notes a few other warriors in the crowd.
As Alaer recognizes the half-elf nodding to his direction.
"Enjoying the Festivities, Alarion? Here." Alaer then throws a candy bar to Alarion.
Alarion caught the candy bar and "I am really enjoying the festivities, although Thunor is to ill to attend." Taking a puff of his pipe he purses his lips and exhales. I am right that there may be some work shortly? I could use some."
"Did you identify the illness? You do have some clerics in this town if I am correct" He then points at the cleric of Sarenrae."Maybe she can help, I don't think he will want to miss the festivites , would he?"
"Alaer it is just his usual grumpiness from his wounds from the goblin ambush a year ago and his advancing years. Hopefully he will make a lair out of me and come later today.' Turning towards the cleric"Would you be available later today to see Thunor?"
The Shoanti looks at the Elven man when he approaches, simply sizing up the person, as he normally does. Anaach has not had much, if any, experience with magic, and so does not really mark him as a warrior or a threat.
Alitsa looks at the half-elf, her eyes flickering downward quickly before meeting his again. "Well, in truth, Sarenrae has but recently given me her blessings. I'd be happy to see Thunor and to ease his suffering in any way I can, but I worry that the most I'll be able to is make him hurt less. I'm not yet skilled enough to erase ancient wounds."
Alarion notices the heavily Shoanti looking at him and he nods with respect to the warrior. Turning to the priestess "My lady that would be wonderful in itself if he needs it" Alarion absently adjust his belt missing the weight of his familiar long sword.
When nodded to, Anaach would bow his head slightly, out of simple courtesy.
Alitsa looks in the half-elf's eyes, smiling. "If that is all you need, It'd be a pleasure. Perhaps after the Festival? Oh, unless you need my assistance immediately, of course. Alitsa Gratia, priestess of the Sun. Where does your...friend? Where does Thunor live?" She offers her free hand to Alarion, as well as a small bow.
Remy releases Alitsa's arm so she can follow the half-elf. Go get 'em, sweetheart. I'll be here for you later. I've got this fine Shoanti gentleman to keep me company here. He pats Anaach on the shoulder jovially. You look like a fine warrior, my large friend. I'll wager 3 gold coins I can hit that post over there with a stone in fewer attempts than you. Are you game?
Anaach looks at Remy, then at the post, and back again. "I accept" he replies, "But we should take up a new position."
Anaach's muscular form, and apparent physical strength means that this is probably a very smart idea, a rock hurled by this man could potentially hurt someone...
Ah! Splendid! Why don't you throw first, uh... What was your name again, sir?
"I am Anaach Sklar-Quah" The large man says as he leans down to pick up a large stone.
Hurling the rock, Anaach has a fair amount of accuracy.
Slipping through the crowd he felt the excited activity of the whole town. It had been awhile since he'd had the need to smile and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. The travel had been perilous to get here from Magnimar and working as wagonhand on a caravan was nothing he would doing again anytime soon.
He had promptly taken what little coin he had made minus the cost of passage from the caravan master and had headed to the town square. As he watched both children and adult alike parading up and down the streets in delight he followed after them. The smell of food floated in the air and he could feel his mouth salivating. Finding the source of the smell he greeted the stall vendor with a nod.
"What is making my mouth water? Your food smells to good to be true. Tell me whatever you are cooking is ready to be served?"
As Alaer starts spectating the 2 men throwing rocks at the post, he says "What is this? a new sort of game? Care if i join?"
Alaer laughs and picks up a rock and then backs away from some people and throws the rock at the post.
Accepting Alitsa hand graciously'"Thunor lives in the Red Dragon with a room next to mine, I show the way. Walking towards the inn.
Alaer steps in and instantly nails the post with the rock, before Remy even throws. Anaach nods to him, "Impressive."
With both of his weapons still in his right hand, Anaach's massive form could be construed as intimidating. He is a Shoanti barbarian, after all.
"Your turn, Remy" Alaer laughs then sizes up the shoanti's muscular build and Tattoos and says "Well, your the intimidating one.
My apologies, i haven't introduced myself to you, I am Alaer frey, Protector of a small town outside of sandpoint, Glad to meet you" Alaer puts up his hand to the giant shoanti
"Your turn, Remy" Alaer laughs then sizes up the shoanti's muscular build and Tattoos and says "Well, your the intimidating one.
My apologies, i haven't introduced myself to you, I am Alaer frey, Protector of a small town outside of sandpoint, Glad to meet you" Alaer puts up his hand to the giant shoanti
"Anaach Sklar-Quah" he introduces himself, and he only possesses the one tattoo on his face. Anaach takes the offered hand and shakes it with very light, controlled movement. "mercenary guard, looking for work."
An old lady turns around to look Tylur's way "Oh hello there. Caught a whiff of some me smoked river fish. It's stuffed with dried apricots and berries and then wrapped in Afri leaves . Only made on special occasions and served to special customers. It costs 5 bits but guaranteed will have you coming back for more!"
"Five coppers for one fish? We'll do you stand by your guarantee that I'll want more?"
"Guess you'll need to buy to find it now won't ye?" the old vendor chuckles as she turns over another fish. "If ye get it now ye won't be frowning after I run out!"
Dipping his fingers into his coin purse he puts down a silver piece. "Give me two then. I'm hungry and my travels here had a cook that I'd rather eat from again."
"A choice ye soon be happy ye made! Here ye go and enjoy yer stay in Sandpoint ye won't find a nicer place in all of Varisia." Grabbing the fish he walks away biting into the first fish. The taste is sumptuous and as he finishes off the first one he watches as an enormous man and a smaller man, in comparison to the first man, are throwing rocks at the post in some sort of competition.
Wondering what they might be up to he moves closer as they shake hands.
Lars looks a the suddenly much larger group with concern and befuddlement, before putting his mask back down. "Lots of people. New people. Nice people? Questionable..." As he openly judges the surrounding members by getting uncomfortably closer to some of them and looking a them, he smiles beneath the mask. "My name is Lars. Nice. Nice." he says in a hushed tone, somewhat congratulating himself on doing so well in a public situation.