"It keeps the town fed," the Shoanti replies curtly. Evidently, small talk is not his forte. He at first seems content to leave it at that, but after another minute he speaks up again. "I take it you are visiting for the festival?"
Wyrd returns the handshake, a bit surprised she was so enthusiastic about it. "Trying to stand out as little as possible, but seems we're pretty bad at that," he says with a raspy laugh. "And you just missed'em, we were swapping stories back at Jargie's. Brother was around here somewhere, he's got stories too," he says to Ameiko briefly looking around for Baalrak, wondering if he's off getting into trouble. "Suppose you've some of your own, maybe we can all share more stories when things calm down later tonight."
"You're in a small frontier town where everyone is in everyone else's business, wearing a mask to cover your face. You lost any chance of not standing out the moment you walked into town." Shara grins slightly. "We might have to come by the Rusty Dragon tonight. We can catch up and swap stories."
"Oh, I have plenty of them," Ameiko says with a wink. "I'll try to save a table for you. No promises, tonight of all nights. But worse comes to worst, I'll just have to make room. And speaking of room, if any of you need a place to stay while you're in town, the Dragon is open to you. Obviously. I mean, I could point you to Garridan's place, but that'd make me a terrible businesswoman."
"I'm staying with mom for a while. It's kind of weird being back in my old room after five years away but I wouldn't want to impose."
Wyrd gives a soft chuckle at Shara's joke about him standing out. "Still stand out less this way," he responds with a shrug. "Staying at the House of Blue Stones, but thank you," he says to Ameiko's offer. "Dropping by later sounds like a good plan."
He excuses himself and finds another quiet place to eat, savoring the food slowly. Wyrd then leans up against the wall of one of the nearby buildings, deciding to spend some time people watching, though he keeps an eye out for Baalrak, Shara and Ivy (being that she's the easiest to spot of the two) in case they are looking for him.
"Not at all what I expected for today. Better than spending the day meditating though," he thinks, grinning to himself.
You all converse with Ameiko and Garridan for a while longer, but eventually a resurgence in the crowd demands their attention. Even more people enter the square, conveniently late for the Swallowtail Release, but just in time for shorter lunch lines. That had been their plan, at least. In practice, with at least a hundred different people sharing the same idea, the square soon becomes a congested mess. Before the chaotic tide hits the stand, Ameiko shoos you away, reminding you to stop by the Rusty Dragon later on. Garridan extends a similar invitation to Baalrak, though his stern demeanor makes it seem more like a formality than anything.
Thankfully, the commotion leaves the rest of the town comparatively less crowded, giving you some breathing room. Every so often you see children chasing after one of Desna’s children, hopping up to grasp it in their hands. However, as though to tease them, the swallowtails always float just beyond their reach.
The streets are less busy, but there are plenty of people not quite so desperate to sate their appetites. There are plenty of other food stands throughout the town, after all. None quite so savory as Sandpoint’s finest, but the food is all tasty.
And of course, there are the festival games. Contests of strength, skill, dexterity, and more often than not, dumb luck. Children and adults alike participate in sack races, games of hide-and-seek, weight-lifting challenges, balance beam contests, tug-of-war contests and the like. Most of the victors receive nothing more than bragging rights, but for many of them, this is a fine prize indeed.
The hours fly by, as they always do when the atmosphere is festive. As the sun slowly approaches the horizon, the sky gradually grows dimmer, but also more colorful. With not a cloud in sight, it is sure to be a starry night. Sunset fast approaches, and as the “official” festivities wind down, a crowd forms in the church square one last time.
The consecration would be starting soon.
Wishing Ameiko farewell for now, and good luck, Shara wanders through the festival, watching the games and contests take place with a smile on her face. Never terribly athletically inclined, she doesn't participate in much, simply enjoying the festival atmosphere and being home again. She runs into a few other old friends and ends up chatting with them over their last few years, trying to catch up on what she's missed in Sandpoint. She's certain half of what she gets is meaningless gossip, but seeing her old friends is worth a little time. Eventually, she gets roped into telling a few stories to a group of children, sharing some tales she'd heard in Magnimar with her rapt listeners. She's almost thankful when it finally comes time for the festival to close.
Baalrak is shoved unceremoniously away from the food, and he grunts a little bit. Fortunately, Wyrd is there just in time to remind Baalrak that random street-fights are not really cool here in Sandpoint. The half-elf wound direct Baalrak to a more accepted and productive physical activity.
Baalrak would spend the next several hours drinking any alcohol placed near him, eating any meat that he is offered and challenging groups of people to a one-on-group tug-of-war and weight lifting.
He'll win most of the time due to his prodigious strength, and any times he's bested (most likely when he's up against three or more people) he'll blame anything but his own lack of strength.
Feeling a sense of duty and obligation (and maybe a bit of amusement), Wyrd spends the rest of the afternoon keeping Baalrak out of trouble. He knew that people were always happy to come up with a reason to dislike someone who stood out like they did, and having orc blood made it even worse for his brother.
He drank whenever he felt comfortable enough to do so, trying to maintain a good buzz without ending up in a situation where he would lose track of his brother. Whenever he started feeling a bit *too* drunk, he would just pass the excess drinks off on Baalrak.
And he spent quite a bit of time just watching people go by. Mostly attractive women, but more than a little bit wondering what it was like to have a simple life.
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Ash spent the majority of it listening to a preacher preach at Ivy. The difference between 'at' and 'to' being palpable. The two eventually left no better for their time spent. Ivy still didn't understand why a travel goddess of freedom would want people to capture hundreds of butterflies, only to let them go later. She didn't know the word for it, but that sounded a lot more like liberation than freedom. And the two were very different. Desna was currently the 'goddess of making no sense' to Ivy. She did like the stars, though, which were apparently Desna's as well. So she was okay with her. Shelyn was still the best, though. Cause Ivy could totally understand everything being amazing. Because it was.
As Ash moves through town, content to simply observe, and occasionally munch on a berry, Ivy moves through quickly and efficiently eliminating the competition. She doesn't always win (in fact, more often than not, she loses), but on certain occasions she's able to eke out a small victory in some way. Usually over children of approximately her own mental stature, if not physical. This is an acceptable victory.
She does do a great job in games like tug of war, though. Being built for climbing was sort of like cheating, ultimately. But Ivy, like the magnificent Honey Badger, doesn't give cares... and then the sun is running away. Stupid Desna making the sun go down...
The last bit of the day was spent listening to Shara tell stories, as the sun descending reminded Ivy of the shock of red hair, and she needed to go see it again, so she wouldn't forget it. She really was a rapt listener, apt to asking questions... such as 'Who is marigold and why does a talking horse garner so much attention from men' in relation to Marigold being a Mare... so on and so forth.
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A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun’s setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman’s scream slices through the air.
A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises—high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.
”Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!
”Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!
”Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be goblins! You be food!”
The screams continue as the crowd starts to disperse, nearly a hundred people all trying to escape the unseen threat. Little do they suspect that the rest of the town is no safer. As the crowd thins, three goblins burst out of hiding, each of them wielding short, curved swords that have several holes drilled into their lengths. They brandish them menacingly, sending a few straggling townsfolk bolting in the opposite direction.
Father Zantus hides beneath the stage, tending to a wounded man, unarmed and unarmored. The town guard is nowhere in sight, occupied with threats elsewhere. Content with the area they are in, the goblin trio cackles with glee, ready to shed more blood. All the while, the warchanters continue to sing that horrendous song at the top of their lungs.
Is there no one that can stop them?
Share spins as she hears a scream echo over the crowd. She skims the crowd with her eyes, seeing the tiny green skinned creatures running through the square and executing the poor dog. Anyone in Sandpoint would recognize one of the obnoxious, and dangerous, goblins that lives in the nearby swamps and forests. "Little pests," she mutters, calling up her power and feeling the magic surging in her limbs as she prepares to fight. The familiar hum of power in her limbs brings a smile to her lips as the crowd scatters, panicked by the sudden appearance of the goblinoids.
Baalrak's hand goes to his greatsword's hilt as he wheels around. A grin splits his face as he realizes just what's happening. "Goblins? I was worried that the end of the festival would be boring!"
He elbows Wyrd. "Fate has conspired to give us a chance to test our skills in battle, side by side, brother!" He laughs, a bellow that comes all the way down from his belly.
Wyrd is more than a little surprised by the ruckus and the arrival of the goblins. He looks a little annoyed that his afternoon has been interrupted by their arrival. He turns to Balraak and answers "Would seem so, brother," letting his spear rest on his shoulder.
He takes a deep breath and focuses, preparing himself for battle. He takes a step forward, spinning the spear around with surprising agility before bringing it to bear on the goblins.
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1. Goblin #3
2. Shara
3. Ash & Ivy
4. Goblin #2, Goblin #1
5. Baalrak
6. Wyrd
One of the goblins scurries toward the edge of a nearby tent, where an unfinished serving of Ameiko's salmon was dropped when the attack began. He takes several greedy fistfuls of salmon and shoves them into a crude leather pouch, inadvertently collecting pieces of broken plate as well. It seems that he has not yet realized that not everyone is busy running away.
Shara is up.
Ivy looks around but doesn't manage to spot the evil little critters until after the crowd has cleared out, "Who's screaming about killing dogs and whyyyy?"
Ash just sighs. He knew the party was going to end badly. They always do.
Shara takes a step forward, drawing her ranseur and taking a practiced stance, ready to deal with any of the little menaces that gets too close to her. "Goblins," Shara growls. "I hope you know how to handle yourself in a fight."
The rightmost goblin clambers onto the wagon, no easy task for a creature with such stubby limbs. From atop his new vantage point he spots your small group, particularly Wyrd and his fancy spear-twirling.
"Duuraan kuukac magaan daakhuuc! Mech daal!" the goblin shouts, gurgling out the harsh syllables. Flecks of spit fly out of his mouth with each word.
Hearing his companion, the third goblin - the dog's murderer - gazes at the five of you, his tongue still slathering all over his blade. He slowly starts to approach your group, a wicked, toothy smile spreading across his watermelon-sized head.
The other goblin does not take the hint. Having packed his bag full of salmon, he shoves what wouldn't fit right into his mouth, gnashing it between two dozen razor-sharp teeth. From where you stand you can hear the sound of crunching glass, but the goblin doesn't seem bothered by it.
Shara is up.
Shara steps forward, unphased by the strange little creature's actions. Their stupidity can work to her advantage here. "ἀτύζω" she intones, releasing her weapon with one hand for just a moment to make a strange gesture and point at the nearest goblin.
Shara's simple compulsion clouds the goblin's mind, stopping him dead in his tracks. His smile shrinks and he lowers his weapon ever so slightly, as though he has forgotten what he was doing.
Ash & Ivy are up.
Ash places his hand on Ivy and intones "Garda" and the viny growths along Ivy's body thicken and turn from flexible fibrous vine into wood, transforming her from mostly green to a mixture of green and brown, as the foliage becomes decidedly more armor-like. He then moves forward, continuing to use his spear more as a walking stick, until he levels it.
Ivy, after recieving the protective blessing, launches herself forward, easily snapping her weapon out of its button-snap-straps. Her legs coil as she leaps forward, with a pop-pop-pop. She lands on one hand and two legs before pushing herself back perpendicular with the ground. She catches the Glaive Guisarme in her second hand as she brings it crashing down. Sadly, in her rush, she fails to even impact the space the goblin is occupying; he doesn't even need to move. That poor cobblestone.
Ivy's target does not even flinch when the blade of her glaive guisarme flies past its head and smashes into the ground. He slowly turns his head to acknowledge the attack, but does not seem to fully comprehend what just happened. The sound of the impact does scare the wits out of his gluttonous companion however, causing him to blow chunks of salmon out of his mouth. He looks to the eidolon, blood dripping out of his mouth.
The goblin on the wagon does not surrender his position, instead laughing and jeering at Ivy's misfortune. He then slings a few creatively-worded insults at her in Goblin, most of which don't properly translate into Common.
The dazed, bloodthirsty goblin stares at Ivy blankly, the realization that she is a threat forestalled by Shara's spell.
Baalrak is up.
Baalrak barks a laugh, closing with the goblins. As he goes, he draws his sword - a huge and heavy claymore that's cracked and chipped with long use and poor construction. "Come at me, small creatures!" he shouts.
Taking a more measured approach than his brother, Wyrd moves up cautiously towards the nearest goblin, trying to figure out where best to place himself to maximize his advantage in the battle to come.
As he gets within range he lunges forward, his spear seeming to fly forward from his hands towards the goblin until he catches it at the last second. Though a visually impressive technique, he draws it back without having landed a blow on the goblin, finding he's misjudged his range.
Baalrak and Wyrd both move into position. Still dazed, the goblin that Wyrd attacked does not even notice he is there.
After dropping some pieces of broken plate to the ground, the goblin on Ivy's left hops toward her, into her weapon's reach. With a bloody smile he swings his dogslicer at her leg. Its blade cuts right through her dense wooden armor, drawing a trickle of blood.
Shara is up.
Shara steps forward again, keeping behind the people who are much more qualified to handle frontline combat than herself and points at the same goblin she'd disabled a few moments ago. "κρυερός" A bluish glow forms around her finger tips and a burst of frigid air and icy shards bombards the little creature.
Shara's ray is carefully aimed, but with Wyrd in front of her and Baalrak so close to the goblin, the shot is a tight one. The attack is a near miss, splashing against the cobblestones beside the goblin.
Ash & Ivy are up.
Ivy makes a sound not unlike a wounded cat, and Ash's eyes narrow. The blood that comes out of Ivy is surprisingly crimson.
Ash drives his weapon forward, towards the goblin, then slips away. Ivy slips backwards as well, then rains down powerful death with another vertical swipe of her glaive.
Both Ash and Ivy attempt to retaliate against the goblin, but he is surprisingly nimble. He hops to the side, dodging Ash's thrust, before hopping back into place just in time to avoid Ivy's powerful blow. The little green creature cackles, sending flecks of bloody spittle flying out.
Empowered by his new sense of elevation, the goblin on the wagon rises to Baalrak's challenge. He wildly swings his dogslicer, at just the right height to reach the half-orc's neck. But the blade instead grazes his cheek, leaving a shallow wound.
"A dec a magaan daan mec huuc!" the goblin cheers, a little too excited by its accomplishment.
Meanwhile, the dog murderer finally seems to come to his senses. After shaking his head a few times he looks up and sees Wyrd standing nearby. That terrible smile works its way back onto his face as he steps toward the monk, slashing at him with his sword. Still disoriented, he ends up attacking the entirely wrong spot, perhaps still seeing double.
Baalrak is up.
Baalrak chuckles as the goblin grazes his cheek, and blood runs down his face. "Perfect! This would have been too easy if I had drawn first blood!"
He raises his sword, a gleeful smile on his lips. "See, first and last blood are the same for me!"
Baalrak steps to his left and swings towards the right, trusting the contrast to give his swing strength.
Wyrd sidesteps the dog murderer's haphazard attack, swinging his spear around behind him as he does. He flips it around and lifts it overhead as he extends it again, butt end towards the goblin. He brings the butt down from above onto the goblin's shoulder with a loud crunch before pulling the spear back and preparing for the creature's next advance. "Loathesome creature," he says, sounding vaguely disgusted by it.
As it so happens, the goblin is at just the right height for Baalrak to reach his belly. Just as the half-orc predicted, the extra step gives his swing just the power it needs. His sword cuts a huge swath out of the goblin's abdomen and knocks him onto his back. Now lying in the wagon, the unconscious goblin twitches as blood spews out of his massive wound.
Wyrd's opponent is not much luckier. So great is the force of his blow that not only does the goblin's shoulder snap, but the creature's entire little body is smashed down into the ground, unmoving. There is no second advance.
It does not occur to the last goblin of the trio that he is indeed, the last of the trio. He laughs maniacally, teetering back and forth to the tune of the wretched goblin song, still ringing all throughout the town. The goblin makes another wild pass at Ivy, but his swing is far too weak. This time his dogslicer does not even scratch her armor.
Shara is up.
Well, it seems that her more martial companions have the goblins well in hand. She waves her hand and attacks the little pest's mind, attempting to leave him helpless for the others to cut down. "ἀτύζω"
The goblin's weak mind falls prey to Shara's spell, just like the dog killer's before it. His dancing stops, his sword is lowered, and his laughter slows. He blinks, wondering where he is and what he was doing.
Ash & Ivy are up.
Ash stays where he is this time, as Ivy weaves to the side, readying to pincer the slightly drooling goblin between the pair...
Ash drives his spear towards him, but he still manages to bob and weave... Then Ivy brings her gnarled glaive down heavily once again... maybe this time, she won't be ruining the street.
This time, the cobblestones are spared. The hapless goblin is split open from head to toe by Ivy's glaive guisarme, right down the middle. His eyes roll up into the back of his head and he crumples to the ground in a heap. Both he and the goblin in the wagon twitch for a few more seconds before going still, having bled out. Only the goblin that Wyrd felled still draws breath.
With the brief skirmish at an end, the continued screams and singing in the background seem to grow louder. A glance down any of the streets leading out of the square is enough to tell that Sandpoint is in utter chaos.
A goblin that has somehow climbed onto a rooftop attempts to leap down onto an running child. Having misjudged his jump however, he instead hits the ground several feet away face-first, snapping his neck and crumpling into a heap.
Another goblin runs through the streets while screaming, having somehow burst into flames. In his panic he collides with another goblin, setting him on fire as well.
Down another street a large red mastiff that Shara recognizes as one of Das Korvut's holds a goblin by its neck. The dog viciously shakes the puny creature side to side as if it were its favorite chew toy. The goblin shrieks in horror before passing out, but the dog keeps on going.
"Curse these little menaces," Shara mutters. "What are these things doing? I've never seen the goblins get so bold. This is... We have to do something."
Baalrak exhales after his blow that takes out a goblin. "Barely a worthy battle!" he says. "A good performance from you, though, brother." he says, glancing at the crushed goblin before Wyrd.
With the three goblins dispatched Wyrd looks around at the chaos around them. It brings back vague memories of burning buildings and cries for help, likely from when his village was raided. He finds it rather unsettling, but knows that if they don't do their part to restore order others might wind up suffering as he has.
"You as well. Should prepare for more, however. It seems this is far from over." He plants his spear into the ground butt-first and begins looking around for goblins coming after them, or the cries of those who might need aid.
Ash stays where he is, and pulses out a wave of healing energy for his companions. It has the side effect of stabilizing some of the goblins, but he doesn't seem worried about that.
Meanwhile, Ivy moves from goblin to goblin, trying to figure out what's going on, exactly. Not that it will help much, given that they're all inevitably unconscious.
Positive energy sweeps over the area, healing Baalrak and Ivy's wounds. The goblin that Wyrd smashed into the ground is caught in the burst as well, which brings him back from the brink of death. Ivy finds that he has regained consciousness, but is still far too wounded to do fight. The other two goblins are dead, killed almost instantly.
Just as everyone catches their breath however, a cart on the other side of the square suddenly bursts into flames. A small chorus of cheers celebrates the inferno; a new trio of goblins dances out from behind the cart, holding dogslicers and burning torches. Accompanying them is yet another goblin, a female wielding a dogslicer in one hand and a whip in the other. When she spots your group she shrieks with glee and cracks her whip against the ground, getting the others' attention. Riled up into a frenzy, the pyromaniacs move forward to attack!
Despite having reinforcements, the critically wounded goblin cowers on the ground, covering his head with his hands.
Shara is up.
Shara grits her teeth and her eyes blaze with arcane power. A feeling of tiredness and exhaustion forces its way into the goblins' minds, trying to send them to sleep.
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The goblins immediately quiet down, their eyelids dropping. The raid has been going on for quite a while now; surely no one would mind if they just took a short nap. One by one they drop their weapons and fall to the ground, curling up into little balls. The warchanter looks on in disbelief, one of her eyes twitching in annoyance.
"Dalaan ac o arther!" she shrieks, stepping up to one of the snoring goblins and smacking him with her whip. He snaps open his eyes and lets out a loud yawn before looking around, trying to figure out what was going on. The warchanter then opens her mouth and starts to screech out another song.
Ash & Ivy are up.
Ash moves out of the way, calmly, and then levels his spear. (Set against charge).
Ivy then proceeds to yell "Slumber party!" as she charges across the battlefield and brings her glaive horizontally across the prone form, swatting it. Perhaps not the best of moves! She doesn't swing as hard as she can, since she's 'just' playing.
(Helpless has extra rules regarding bonuses for hitting a sleeping target. The +4 goes on attack.)