Cedric picks up and examines the scrolls trying to determine if they are real.
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Kerak has a bit of ale in him, and can't help but find the whole situation just a bit too humorous. He ends up leaning against the stone, laughing for no apparent reason. "Ah-hah, I've, ahaha, I've been swindled! Hahaha, AHAHAHA!"
After he cools down, he pulls out another silver and foists it upon the man. "Again!"
And this time he is able to keep himself together. "The Crab King will not be bested by any rock!"
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Zenovia unfortunately despite being intelligent in matters of Planar, Nature and Religious pursuits is not quite so adept at history, having learned most of what she knows from stories and tales. Nevertheless she tries to interpret the scrolls to see if they're something of interest.
Knowledge History (Untrained):
And indeed she is rather stumped. They could very well be authentic scrolls from all she can tell. They definitely look old to say the least. Nevertheless their price is probably beyond what she can amply afford.
@Saif- The priest takes your hand in both of his. "It is an honor to meet another of the faithful. While this church is meant for Desna, we do have shrines already prepared inside to worship Sarenrae, Shelyn, Gozreh, Erastil and Abadar. That being said, I would welcome you to help us consecrate the Dawnflower's shrine once we open the church."
Saif bows deeply to Father Zantus. "You are truly a good man. May the Ever-Shining Maiden smile upon you forever. I shall remain near the temple for now. Simply ask for me when you are ready, and I shall assist in the consecration."
Saif has a broad smile on his face. This will be the highlight of his trip to this village, and a rare opportunity to help spread the faith. With a spring now in his step, he wanders only a short ways away, trying to remain in earshot of the temple.
Hong grins at Feng and works his way up into the front of the small line. Then he hops up onto the balance beam and attempts to cross it while the small crowd watches.
Nar'a waves at the kobold's back as he rushes to intercept the Father.
Gazing about, trying to decide what to do when she hears the cry of the scroll seller. Intruiged, she makes her way to his stall where she finds another woman present, one she's seen about the last couple of days.
Getting nearer, she smiles as the other woman looks up, and gestures for the seller to continue "I'll wait my turn."
No sooner had Boshak gotten his mushroom ale than he heard murmurs of the festival beginning.
"Never a dull moment here."
He quickly chugs down the drink, the ale spilling out of his mouth and dribbling down his braided beard. He slams down the mug, drops 4 copper pieces on the table, and rushes out the door, bumping a table on the way to the sounds of angry patrons.
He listens raptly to the introduction. A production going on the theater piques his interest, especially having never heard of the Harpy Queen. He logs that away in his mental notes, when the cry of scrolls makes his ear twitch. Before he even realizes it, he's standing in front of the stand with a small crowd of people.
He squats down a bit, trying to get a closer look at the scrolls without touching them.
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Zenovia after looking over the scrolls heads in the direction of the temple to take a closet look at the outside. She sees a Keish man Saif wearing the holy symbol of Sarenae and approaches him. Greetings friend of the Dawnflower. It is good to see another who worships the Everlight Sarenae. There are not many that I have seen among my people that worship the Sarene, most choosing the goddess of travels, Desna as their patron goddess. I myself bear the divine power of Sarenae as an Oracle, marked by birth to bear the divine light of the goddess. You may call me Zenovia good sir.
Saif jumps slightly as the Varisian woman speaks to him. "Ah! A fellow member of the faith. Yes, I notice that her faith is not as strong here as it is where I hail from. And you bear a mark of the Lady of the Sun? Truly you are a most blessed person!" He bows slightly before regaining his proper posture. "My name is Saif al-Din."
@Kerak, Kror- Even with a second attempt, The Crab King is barely able to move the rock. "My Lord must be tired today from all the revelry last eve'. Perhaps another try? Or you good sir? You look of strong dwarven stock. Only 1 silver steed a try."
@Sativon- As you approach the Magnimarian merchant, you feel a sense of unease, but do not notice anyone watching you. No one stops you as you pull away his purse...
@Kane- "That is beautiful armor..uh.. sir... I can't say I've seen any like you... I mean it.. nearby. Who made you.. er.. it?"
@Zenovia, Boshak, others at the scrolls- The scrolls look genuine enough, except on closer inspection. It is obvious someone used something to age the writings and there are mistakes in some of the letterings. This occurs on every scroll but one. That one has no mistakes and is genuinely ancient and probably magically preserved.
Having no real interest in—one might even say aversion to—festivals and crowds, Burma finds a comparatively quiet spot by herself away from the events (but close enough that her companions could find her without too much trouble). She hammers a nail into the bark, hangs her fetish mask upon it, and sits facing it crossed-legged, contemplating the agony it represents.
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She nods to Saif al-Din and says, "A pleasure to meet you Saif al-Din. You certainly are far from your homeland traveling to Varisia from the lands of Kelesh sir. It must be quite a jarring difference that Varisia is full of lush fields, forests and mountains. Far different than the deserts you hail from I believe."
She gives a look to the temple and says "It is a fine temple they have built here in Sandpoint. Did you hear what happened to the last temple? It burned down in a fire years ago from some unknown cause. Still, the people of the town have preserved to rebuild that they have lost."
Wary because his halfling senses tingled just before stealing the merchant's purse, Sativon looks for a quiet out of the way place to thoroughly examine his ill-gotten gains. After wandering around thinking every guard was about to arrest him, and every shadow held a rival thief, he finally finds Burma sitting next to an out of the way tree. Realizing that she is in some form of meditation, he doesn't speak; he just sits nearby, and, after making certain the purse wasn't trapped, opens the strings to count his stealthy reward.
Having wetted his whistle and enjoyed some time with a companion, he continues to travel around the event. It not till his ears burn with the sound of "Real Thassilonian scrolls" does he finally find something that truly interests him.
Seeing that a few people have already shown an interest in them he bides his time till an opening appears that puts him next to the vendor. With a peruse of titles and quality, nothing in his mind stands out enough to be true, now while his own skill, may shall we call it be rusty. He might be overlooking to obvious.
My good man, show me your best scroll, if its what you say, I may do my best to add it to my collection, but believe me, I'm hard to please.
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I come from a very rich town with fine craftsman, I guess that is why the town is rich, they make and sell fine items. It took up almost all my money to get it, I take it this town doesn't have stuff like this? I have seen admantine Hellknight plate armor, but only about 0.1% of the population can afford it, so most of the stuff they make is masterwork quality and mithril so they can sell their stuff, but every once in a while they will make admantine or stuff with magical enchantments
@Kerak, Kror- Even with a second attempt, The Crab King is barely able to move the rock. "My Lord must be tired today from all the revelry last eve'. Perhaps another try? Or you good sir? You look of strong dwarven stock. Only 1 silver steed a try."
Ah, but festivals are for having fun. And watching the "crab king" here nearly herniate himself is much more fun than doing so to myself would be.
Saif nods along, a broad smile upon his face. "The lands may be different, but people are people, and Sarenrae cares for them all." As he hears the news of the previous temple, he visibly becomes shocked."Indeed? Then this new temple must truly be a testament to these fine folks enduring faith. I'm certain now that Sarenrae, and those other faiths dutifully assembled are smiling on them!"
@Burma-
@Kerak, Kror- On his sixth try, Kerak is finally able to lift the rock. "Ah, my good king was only playing for the amusement of his friends. Here you are, one shiny gold crown coin to add to your treasury my lord."
@Sativon- Satisfied that there are no traps on the coin purse, you examine it. It jingles as you feel it, but when you open it, you find nothing but a single dull gem. As your hand reaches to touch it, it glows faintly...
@Dacar- "Ah my friend, you are a discerning buyer. You don't want these temple notes and love letters of old. This.", he points to one that is in an ivory case. "This is what you want. It contains the laboratory notes of a long last master of magic from the Thassilonian age. A great insight into their methods and secrets. I can let it go for say, ten pounds of gold."
@Kane- The man nods at you. "Indeed. Perhaps you will find what you are looking for in Magnimar or Riddleport, but here it is difficult to find good enchanters that are more than charlatans."
As everyone continues to enjoy the festival, you can see a crowd forming around Father Zantus and a covered wagon pulled by several acolytes. To all who will listen, he recounts the tale of how Desna fell to the earth after a titanic battle in the heavens and a brave young blind boy helped nurse her back to health. For is kindness, he was rewarded by becoming her herald, the swallowtail butterfly.
"With that, he lived on in all her children." A sudden gasp and applause goes up as the acolytes remove the cover from the wagon and thousands of butterflies spring forth and spread throughout the festival. Children laugh and giggle as they chase them, women and men attempt to keep their composure as the are used as landing sites by the many large insects. "It is also my pleasure to tell you that lunch is provided to all for no cost to you by the generosity of Ameiko Kaijitsu of the Rusty Dragon, Garridan Viskali of the White Deer and Jargie Quinn of the Hagfish. Please enjoy Sandpoint's hospitality. The final ceremony begins at dusk."
Saif turns to Zenovia and motions her towards a table. "Please, sit. I'll get us some food while we wait for the consecration." He bows deeply, his old training coming forth before he scurries off for a moment to browse the food, looking for something nice to eat.
Nar'a face pinches in annoyance at the scroll merchant's exhorbitant price, then notices the strange appearance of the other customer.
"A steep price for old paper, don't you think?" she says to Kane, smiling as out of the corner of her eye she sees the merchant begin to sputter in indignation.
Seeing an all but empty coin purse, at first, dampens Sativon's spirits, but the glow of possible magic, although dangerous, sparks a smile again. He does his best to wait patiently for Burma to finish her meditation, but after some time, he can't wait any longer, and his halfling curiosity gets the better of him. He clears his throat loudly enough to be interruptive, but quietly enough to not be annoying. Ahem... Ummm... Burma, I don't suppose you could tell me what magic is enchanting this gem I found? He spills the gem out of the bag onto the ground so that she can see it, careful not to touch the gem himself, but just to let it slip out from the bag onto the ground in plain sight. He then smiles at Burma in the most winsome and debonair way he can muster.
Seeing an all but empty coin purse, at first, dampens Sativon's spirits, but the glow of possible magic, although dangerous, sparks a smile again. He does his best to wait patiently for Burma to finish her meditation, but after some time, he can't wait any longer, and his halfling curiosity gets the better of him. He clears his throat loudly enough to be interruptive, but quietly enough to not be annoying. Ahem... Ummm... Burma, I don't suppose you could tell me what magic is enchanting this gem I found? He spills the gem out of the bag onto the ground so that she can see it, careful not to touch the gem himself, but just to let it slip out from the bag onto the ground in plain sight. He then smiles at Burma in the most winsome and debonair way he can muster.
Burma shifts her body so that she is no longer facing the tree, and instead facing the seated halfling, looking down at him. She raises a palm to the gem as she begins to feel for it's aura, and as she does, she looks Sativon in the eye.
"Found?"
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Zenovia nods to Saif and says, "I could go for a meal. I am sure there is some good local Varisian cuisine somewhere, although the most of common fare here is likely Chelixian. Varisia is a strange place mister Saif. While the Varisian people are the true descendants of the old Thassalon, those of Chelixian descent outnumber us in many regions. At least these Chelixians are not like the ones from Cheliax proper. I heard stories that the people of that land are corrupt and serve the will of Devils. Such a despicable faith indeed."
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She looks to the strange bird-headed person curiously and says, "You are a strange being. I do not believe I have ever seen your race before. But as for your question, the Varisians are the true people of Varisia, the land you find yourself in. From what I have heard of our history, Varisia was once the heart of the old Thassalonian empire but it fell a cataclysm milenna ago. Our people are the descendants of the original occupants of this land although many of us are quite nomadic and often travel to other lands. Still despite this land being called "Varisia", a majority of the population are not of Varisian descent. As for Cheliax itself, I know not how to save its people who have become so deluded that they are willing to sell their chance for Paradise in the afterlife for the brief power the Devils offer."
Burma shifts her body so that she is no longer facing the tree, and instead facing the seated halfling, looking down at him. She raises a palm to the gem as she begins to feel for it's aura, and as she does, she looks Sativon in the eye.
"Found?"
Of course, found! People leave the strangest things just lying around unprotected when they get caught up in revery. Sativon appears hurt at the suggestion that he may have come by the magical gem in any dishonest way. He then eagerly awaits anything Burma might discover about its properties, so that he might better discern its value.
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Kane responds Yes, about my race, normally we are created in a different way than how I was created. Normally magic is cast on animal and that is how my race becomes, it can be done on any animal. With me, it was different, I was an elf once, until I lost my head in a tragic friendly fire accident that was meant for an attacking orc. The Gods gave me a new head, that of an animal, a pet I once owned. Say, do you have plans to save them or fight them, I'd be glad to help. I know it might be hard, but I feel we should still try.
Nar'a face pinches in annoyance at the scroll merchant's exhorbitant price, then notices the strange appearance of the other customer.
"A steep price for old paper, don't you think?" she says to Kane, smiling as out of the corner of her eye she sees the merchant begin to sputter in indignation.
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Zenovia chuckles at Kane's statement and says, "No my bird-headed friend. I have no intentions of going to Cheliax anytime soon. They'ed kill a chosen of Sarenae on sight there. My concerns lie mainly with my homeland of Varisia and its wellbeing. If there is an evil in these lands to be faced, I will do my part to confront it. But as for lands beyond Varisia they will have to solve their own problems."
Hong pays for his dinner, selecting a chowder from the Hagfish. Eventually he wearies somewhat of the celebration. He moves to sit on a bench near the new cathedral, watching people, his belongings at his feet. He runs his finger along a muscular forearm sighing at the dust from the road that he lifts. It has been a long day, and a hot bath would be welcome. He glances off after the soon to be setting sun and makes the decision to retire to an inn as soon as the festival has concluded rather than reveling into the night.
Saif returns several minutes later with an armful of food, a mix of Varisian and Chelish variety with two small tumblers of wine. "Here you go, Lady Zenovia. Now, let's eat, yes? Oh, and who is your friend here? Should I have fetched him food as well? I am sorry, good sir, I was not aware of your presence." He bows deeply as memories of what he would have had to endure back in Katapesh had he made a similar mistake bubble forth.
@Burma- In your mind's eye, the gem Sativon brought to you glows a strong white color with striations of blue throughout. This tells you that it is infused with powerful divination magic.
The food is the best Sandpoint has to offer. From the exotic spices that Ameiko uses to the more familiar home cooking at the White Deer, it is all very well made and very filling. As dusk approaches, you notice Father Zantus approaching the stage again.
After a moment, a loud crack, not unlike thunder, pierces the fast darkening air. A few of the animals that had started to pass into sleep begin to awaken, including a dog that was being fed scraps from local children. Father Zantus, now having the crowd's full attention, smiles and begins to speak.
"Citizens and visitors to Sandpoint. Now is the time for the Prayer of the First Dreaming. If you will all..."
"Run!!" Someone screams nearby. A woman's voice joins the first in what is fast becoming a cacophony of screams and shouts of alarm. You can faintly hear Sheriff Hemlock barking orders at the militia. Amidst the chaos, you notice the dog from earlier now lying in a pool of its own blood. It is then you notice another sound, unfamiliar to most of you, it's as if a bunch of children are cackling like old hags or even, wait, is that.. singing?...
Saif rises to bow his head for the prayer. Slowly murmuring his own to Sarenrae, he is ready for the ceremony to proceed. But when he hears the the yelling and chaos, his training kicks it. Pulling out his scimitar, he readies himself for an attack. But from who?
Seeing an all but empty coin purse, at first, dampens Sativon's spirits, but the glow of possible magic, although dangerous, sparks a smile again. He does his best to wait patiently for Burma to finish her meditation, but after some time, he can't wait any longer, and his halfling curiosity gets the better of him. He clears his throat loudly enough to be interruptive, but quietly enough to not be annoying. Ahem... Ummm... Burma, I don't suppose you could tell me what magic is enchanting this gem I found? He spills the gem out of the bag onto the ground so that she can see it, careful not to touch the gem himself, but just to let it slip out from the bag onto the ground in plain sight. He then smiles at Burma in the most winsome and debonair way he can muster.Burma shifts her body so that she is no longer facing the tree, and instead facing the seated halfling, looking down at him. She raises a palm to the gem as she begins to feel for it's aura, and as she does, she looks Sativon in the eye.
"Found?"
[dice=Spellcraft]1d20 + 5
"There is a powerful aura of divination in this object, that much I know. This is not my area of study however. One of the other mages might know more."
When the dwarf examining the scroll doesn't answer, Nar'a shrugs then heads off to sample some of the food. Noticing a few friends here and there Nar'a instead gathers a plate of samples and heads to a small congregation of newcomers.
Sliding her plate onto the table, she says to Zenovia and Saif "Welcome to Sandpoint, hope you're enjoying the festival. May I join you?" smiling she's about to mention something else when the commotion begins.
What's going on? This singing and screaming doesn't seem like a normal human festival. And killing dogs seems right out of character...
Divination!! That's not good, could be somebody looking at me through this thing?! Sativon quickly scoops up the gem and places it back in the stolen purse, hoping not to be dimensionally transported anywhere through the physical contact. He then perks up his ears hearing a great cacophony of discordant sound in the direction of the main festival grounds. Burma, something's happening, something's... something's wrong. He does his best to hide the stolen purse in an inner pocket of his shirt.
He then grabs his shortbow and an arrow and waits for Burma, so they can check out what's happening.