Coming soon...
If one were to head north from Magnimar along the rocky coastline, one would find himself i a peculiar country. Fog drapes the rolling landscape, floating spectrally along damp and lonely moors. Small woodlands grace the region, their tangled depths redolent of nettles and pepperwood and pine sap, while further inland river valleys lined by majestic redwoods wind between ragged tors and limestone escarpments. This vastness and the sense of isolation have earned the region its local name - the Lost Coast.
And, here along the coast, is a distinguished town that has seen its share of trials in the last decade. As one approaches the town of Sandpoint, the footprint of civilization upon the Lost Coast grows more clear. Farmlands in the outlying moors and river valleys grow more numerous, and the blue-green waters of the Varisian Gulf bear more and more fishing vessels upon its surface.
Sight of Sandpoint is kept hidden by the large upthrust limestone pavements known as the Devil's Platter or the arc of rocky outcroppings known as Whistler's Tors, but as the final bend in the road is rounded, Sandpoint's smoking chimneys and bustling streets greet the traveler with open arms and the promise of warm beds. Hanging from a bent nail at the gatehouse is a sign and a mirror - painted on each is the message: "Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!"
This town is home to many wwho have seen tragedy - either in the form of murder or, as many are remembering this day - fire. Nearly five years ago, a terrible fire struck Sandpoint. It began in the Sandpoint Chapel and spread quickly. As the town rallied to save the church, the fire spread, consuming the North Coast Stables, the White Deer Inn, and three homes. In the end, the church burnt to the ground, leaving the town's beloved priest dead.
For the last five years, the faithful of Sandpoint have attended church in smaller wooden structures rebuilt after the fire destroyed the previous temple, and while their new pastor Abstalar was helpful, kind and wise, church wasn't the same. Now, the new cathedral is finally done. All that remains is for the Swallowtail Festival to renew the site's blessings from the gods and it will be as if the Sandpoint Fire had never occurred.
The Swallowtail Festival begins promptly, as scheduled, on the first day of autumn. The square before the church quickly becomes crowded as locals and travelers arrive, and several merchant tents featuring food, clothes, local crafts, and souvenirs are there to meet them.
Ever since Kova rescued him 7 years ago, Eliazur has been living in Sandpoint. First at the church, and then after the fire, the homes of those in the community who were willing to care for an orphaned Kelishite boy. He spent his time working to help the community and studying the faith of his homeland, reading from the only thing he had left from his parents the holy text of Sarenrae.
The new cathedral is a sight to behold and the fact that it will be a monument to those of all faith fills Eliazur with excitement. He gathers with the rest of Sandpoint's residents in the square waiting for the Swallowtail Festival to commence.
Oren sits atop The Old Light looking down at the new Starpoint Cathedral, meditating on the past five years since he first came to Sandpoint. He was introduced to this town by his big sister, Shalelu, shortly after saving his life in the wilds of Varisia. Since then, he's learned all that he can from her about survival and being a scout and guide. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to help when the fire spread, as he was away from Sandpoint at the time, and only arrived to help put out the flames.
But now Sandpoint is finally able to start anew, and the festival is an excuse to raise the morale of the townsfolk.
The young dwarf sighs as he gets up from his meditating. "Might as well make my way down. Can't focus right now, anyways. This place is brimming with excitement. I can feel it from here. Can't focus with all this energy in the air."
From the fields, Madir spots the town of Sandpoint, bustling with activity. Oh... That's more activity than he was expecting. He briefly ponders staying out here to wait until the activity dies out, but he decides against it in the end. A large black vulture lands on his shoulder.
"We're just going to press on, Black."
Typically, people don't like Madir. They don't like his pale skin, but he suspects they definitely don't like his gaze, ever neutral whether talking about joyous or sad things. His many years alone in the wilderness had eroded his emotions significantly, and all he knows is that he wants them back. But to get them back, he'll need to spend time with other people and relearn. Which is what brings him to Sandpoint: he had heard of Shalelu, a ranger with her home in the wilds, not unlike himself. However, where he is reviled, she enjoys praise and admiration. Perhaps by meeting her, he can learn from her...
Having been adopted by Koya a little over a year ago, Gruhx spent much of his time helping with the church, though desperate to join his mother and brother on an adventure. With the new church being built, he's certain they'll get the chance soon.
Through pure luck of chance, he'd been allowed to view the new building early...someone had to sweep the floors after all. Finishing, he hears the festivities beginning outside.
Full of excitement, the massive creature makes its way out of the church and finds an open area of grass near the performers. Carefully setting down his overflowing pack, he smiles. The overburdened sack contains everything he'd acquired since becoming free. Sure, the locals give him a hard time for the 'junk' he carries, he proudly shows off his possessions.
Donning a handmade wooden symbol of Desna, the reddish gray beast begins to twirl about...slowly at first. Swishing his tail this way and that...looking up to the heavens as he raises his four arms high. He does his best to show how grateful he is to the 'Song of Spheres'.
Finding himself a reasonably comfortable spot along Junker's Way, Tallvar sits idly whittling a small wooden figure as he watches the crowds come and go. His frost-white skin, red hair, and other elven features draw a few glances and elicit a few whispers. Perhaps just as odd to onlookers is the red fox sitting calmly beside him. As time passes, the fox alternates between sitting, pacing nearby, and chasing after whatever small bugs might be flying in the air around it. That the pale half-elf finds this apparently unremarkable is likely quite a sight to anyone not from Sandpoint.
This is not Tallvar's first Swallowtail Festival, but it is certainly one of the biggest and most anticipated in recent memory. The newly-finished cathedral was quite impressive by itself, but Tallvar felt a bit of extra pride whenever he looked at it. Though they were woodworkers and carpenters by trade, he and his mother Ashild had played a small part in the construction efforts of the past several years, and it made things that much more special.
He stops carving and places his knife back on his belt. Though it hadn't been his intention, Tallvar realizes he has carved a well-made wooden figure in the likeness of Ameiko Kaijitsu. He sighs. He had been smitten with her since he was a child, and the years had done little to diminish this. He'd never thought to act on it, though. Ameiko's own refusal to consider any other suitors was discouraging enough by itself; Tallvar's own unusual appearance, dubious heritage, and odd reputation in town did little to help. People would whisper to one another about him when they thought he couldn't hear, talking about his animal companion, the unusual genesis of his magic ability, and the strange things that would happen when he was around. He'd never heard Ameiko talk about those things, but he's sure on some level she's just as unsettled near him as many others.
For now he'd content himself with just being around her.
Tallvar feels a nudge on his arm. "What is it, Ember?" The vixen meets his gaze, giving him a knowing look. It gestures with its snout toward the Cathedral, and Tallvar can feel its desire to go there. "Yeah, you're right. Come on girl, let's go." He stands and places the small, unfinished figurine in a pouch, then joins the crowd moving in the direction of the Cathedral square. Ember follows along with a yip.
As the common folk and visitors alike gather, the opening speeches begin, and the turnout seems to be quite respectable. There are four keynote speakers that each deliver short but well-received welcomes to the festival. Mayor Deverin's friendly attitude and excitement prove contagious as she welcomes visitors to town and jokes about how even Larz Rovanky, the local tanner...and notorious workaholic...managed to tear himself away from the tannery to attend.
Sheriff Hemlock brings the crowd down a bit with his dour mood, his reminder to be safe around the evening's bonfire, and his request for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in the fire that claimed the town's previous church five years ago.
Fortunately, Cyrdak Drokkus is more than up to the challenge of bringing the crowd's mood back up with his rousing anecdotes as he delivers a not-completely-irreverent recap of the long process the town went through to finance and construct the new cathedral. He throws in a bit of self-promotion at the end, as is his wont, inviting everyone to stop by the Sandpoint Theater the following evening to check out his new production of "The Harpy's Curse."
As the speeches go on, the crowd seems to get even larger, and some familiar people among the city make their presences know. The merchant...some would say smuggler...Sandru is there, seeming to always be conducting business with a smile and a mug of winterdrop mead. Speaking of the fine brew, its creator, Ameiko Kaijutsu, is the darling of lunch once again, as her remarkable curry spiced salmon overshadows the offerings of nearly any other vendor.
The enigmatic watcher, Shalelu is even in attendance, sitting cross-legged upon a slab of stone in the distance, her keen eyes watching and waiting. And, the motherly one, Koya sits expectantly in a large tent, her face showing her wrinkles as she smiles at one adopted son while another approaches.
Oren moves up beside Shalelu during the speeches, nodding up at her in greeting. Probably for the best that he came when he did, anyways. Patience he has in plenty, but even a member of the Ouat Caste can be bored to tears with a long, drawn out series of speeches.
The positive energy was stronger down here, obviously. But it filled the dwarf with a sense of fulfillment and peace and his thoughts swam with emotions, but he forced himself to separate them from his own thoughts and emotions, lest they overwhelm him.
He watches the Trox make his way to the the old fortune-teller, Koya. He'd seen the large humanoid around Sandpoint on more than one occasion, but never engaged the creature himself. It wasn't fear, but mostly just a lack of interest. After all, he had better things to do out in the wilds. But it did interest him, if nothing else. He did not know much about the trox as a race, but had heard that they were bred in slavery by his own dark cousins. Because of this, he held them with some pity, and also respect for their relationship with the element of earth.
Oren turns away from the the large trox and back to the festival as a whole. "Hopefully this ends soon," he says to Shalelu, just loud enough for her to hear. "I can smell Ameiko's salmon from here, and my stomach is complaining."
Shalelu smiles, though she doesn't turn to look at Oren. She holds some simple jerky and berries in her lap, which she picks at idly. You always were one for those exotic spices, my friend. Though, you may rather wait to get some at the Rusty Dragon later...it's always better when she doesn't have to mass produce.
A thin eyebrow raises as she turns slightly towards the dwarf. Are you going to head down there?
Approaching the gate, Madir lets Black fly. After a few mishaps, he understood that people generally didn't take kindly to his animal companions, so he wanted to play it safe.
As Madir passes through the gatehouse, he notices the mirror. "Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you!" He does. He looks into the mirror, and sees his own blank gaze staring back. He tries to force a smile, but really only manages to bare his teeth, making his face look even less approachable.
I wonder how Sandpoint will see me...
He steps into the town, and moves with the flow of the crowds, until he eventually finds himself in the audience of the several speeches. The Swallowtail festival... He typically avoided festivals, but this seems... different. He notices the crowds appear to pay him no heed, and around him he sees other figures blending in seamlessly... Such as a large beast-like figure dancing to music.
Then, he catches a glimpse of an elf, perhaps half-elf. Madir immediately notices his skin: much paler than common around here. Immediately, Madir becomes curious, and wants to ask some questions. He runs up to Tallvar and grabs his shoulder to draw attention, staring in his eyes, not blinking. Madir doesn't blink when he focuses. "Hello. Your skin is very pale, do people fear you for it?"
Waiting for an answer, he stares, motionless, his gaze completely blank.
Years in the wilderness tend to make a man less socially apt.
Oren's stomach rumbles at the thought of food, but he quickly dismisses it. "Nah. It can wait. Besides, this is the biggest thing Sandpoint has seen in some time. Might as well take it in while I can." He glances down at Shalelu with a grin, "And who's gonna keep you from being trampled if I left?"
The ranger smirks as she turns to face Oren. My fearless protector... Her smirk turns to a smile as they share a laugh. She turns back to look out to the crowd. It is...and the biggest things can often bring the most trouble. I will keep my watch from up here. Perhaps you can keep a watch from among those who need us the most.
Oren knew there was more to it - Shalelu had often claimed that she didn't wish a life like hers upon people she cared for. It was a life of seclusion and loneliness at times; though she never seemed to want or long for the constant companionship that many of the town dwellers seemed to strive for.
Finishing up his dance, the oversized man retrieves his pack. 'Oh, I'd better hurry or I'll miss the speeches!' considers Gruhx.
*THUMP*THUMP*THUMP*
Gracefully, the massive trox rushes towards the crowd near the temple, shouldering his way up to the very front. A few subtle visitors point out how hard it is to see through such a "thick door".
Glancing back to the human behind him, Gruhx smiles. "You has door need move? Gruhx big. Grux kin move fer ya. Tell Gruhx where be door."
The man smacks himself in the face as he tries to explain the situation. Alas, the nuance is lost of the trox. Spotting Koya in the back, he offers a bow to the man. "Mom o'er dere. Gunna stand wit her. Buts g'luck whicha door."
Situating himself again, towering over the crowd, he looks down at the woman. "Is exciting, no? Me glad be here wit you.". Looking over the little people flooding in to the square, he beams "Lots new faces. Is nice fer festival!"
Tugging a loaf of bread from his pack, he takes a massive bite and begins to chew slowly.
Oren frowns briefly, disappointed at the slight dismissal, but he knew the meaning behind it, so didn't take it to heart. "Sure Sis," he responds, knowing that the nickname bugged her a little, though she'd never admit that she enjoyed it. "I don't have the range of your bow, anyways. See you after?" He let's the question hang in the air as he hops off the stone slab and makes his way into the crowd.
Eli munches on a bit of the Curry Salmon as he listens to the first few speeches. He turns and sees Koya's tent and makes his way over. Off in the crowd he sees the large green insectoid man making his way to the tent as well Good to see Gruhx is doing well and not causing to much of a scene today. Eli has always been kind to Koya's adopted "son", while he isn't the most inteligent and can be a bit ... unseemly, he was generally gentle and well intentioned.
"Hello there Koya! May Sarenrae's light shine down upon you! Such a great crowd gathered for such a noble cause. I'm glad we could all be here together."
Shalelu offers only a knowing smile and a nod of agreement, her eyes never leaving her adopted charges - the whole town of them.
Koya looks up at her adopted son, ignoring the stares and whispers that nearly always follow in the massive Trox's wake. Indeed, young one. Seeing so many coming to see our humble town is more than a bit inspiring. Why...just think of the many stories each brings with them. There are bound to be new rumors among our folk of lands near and far.
The old devotee of Desna was well known for her interest in far lands, but only her adopted sons knew that it was much deeper than just an interest. She treasured maps - the older the better, and would often bring up the ancient world to debate a certain place or people. Gruhx had caught her more than once as she stared intently at a certain far away land on such maps, then would issue that odd human gesture of expelled air - a sigh.
Ah, and here comes Eli. I trust you both are behaving, with so many new faces in town? We must paint our town in a good light, yes?
As Eli approaches, Koya smiles up, then offers thanks and a greeting of her own. And may Desna watch over all your travels...even if it's just from here to this new cathedral. One never can guess when a loose rock will make one take a tumble.
Tallvar weaves his way through the crowd, slowly but steadily heading in the direction of Ameiko and her spiced salmon. Should I just try to say hello and be friendly? he finds himself wondering as he goes. Maybe ask about the last few barrels we made? He can feel amusement from Ember as he worries about these things.
It's nice to see the festival in full swing. He'd already seen a lot of newer faces he recognized, chief among them Gruhx. Old Koya's adoption of the trox had been quite the talking point.
He feels a hand on his shoulder spinning him to face a man he does not recognize. From out of town, probably. The man is nearly as pale as Tallvar, though to Tallvar's eyes his complexion seems to have a different feel to it. More unnerving is the man's expression, or complete lack thereof. He laughs nervously at the stranger's question. "Ah, er, hello," he stammers in reply. He couldn't remember if an adult had ever been this direct in asking about his features. Children had been, but not adults. "Usually just some looks, and some teasing when I was younger." Best not to explain what people might actually fear about him.
"I'm Tallvar." He offers a hand and a smile. He then gestures to his fox companion, who is giving Madir a curious look. "That's Ember. Hey, you hungry? I'm headed over to Ameiko's area for some of her spiced salmon. You should come try it. I guarantee it's delicious." He gestures for the man to follow him before moving on again.
To Madir's surprise, Tallvar replies. Asking him had been something of an impulse, and for a while he stares at the hand doing nothing before remembering that yes, sometimes introductions were paired with a handshake. He shakes his hand. "I'm Madir. Thank you for answering. My skin is pale too, and I don't want to scare anyone away." He has more questions, but he decides they can wait a little while. The elf seems to be willing to talk more, anyway.
When Tallvar invites him to join him to get some food, Madir thanks him again, this time for his hospitality, and quietly follows him. He looks at Ember a bit. "Ember seems healthy, you must take good care of him."
----
Meanwhile, Madir's vulture, Black, decides to take some time to rest his wings. He circles around a bit, looking for a good spot, and eventually settles down on the ground, not far from Shalelu.
"Her, actually," Tallvar corrects. "And yes, I try to anyway. Sometimes she's a handful though." Ember for her part gives a playful yip, apparently enjoying the attention.
When they get close enough, he hesitates a moment, then waves. "Ameiko!" he calls out, trying to get her attention over the crowd. While waiting for her to finish her current task and make her way over, he turns to Madir. "So, Madir, yes? You're not from Sandpoint, right? I don't recognize you. Did you come for the festival?"
Despite his previous dismissal, Oren finds himself wandering towards Ameiko's booth, drawn in by the smell of curry spice. Always feels like home when she makes curry, the young dwarf thinks to himself. As he nears the table, he catches sight of that pale-skinned half-elf that lives nearby. Tallvar? Yes, that sounds right. They had only conversed on a handful of occasions, but he seemed an amicable sort, if a little on the odd side. Oren always found the little fox that followed Tallvar around to be a bit curious, but never put too much though into it. As long as there was no trouble, it wasn't his business.
The other pale-faced person beside Tallvar was a different story. Not someone he'd ever seen before. Distant relative, maybe? Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, Oren attempts to stay out of sight in the crowd, but remain close enough to watch the newcomer.
Ameiko looks up at the summons, and offers Tallvar her lopsided grin and a friendly wave as he approaches. As is nearly always the case with Ameiko, quite the crowd gathers around her small booth, where an open fire pit keeps her curry on a low simmer, and a grill table is worked by one of her employees from the Rusty Dragon. The young man rubs a spice mixture on their fresh already-spiced bread, then grills it and tops off each bowl of the curry with the spiced bread. Every now and again, Ameiko offers gentle corrections, often showing empathy and teaching as she redirects.
Madir notices immediately that Ameiko's heritage is a bit foreign, her dark narrow eyes showing Tian descent. Ameiko utters a quick apology to a well-dressed man who was quite obviously interested in more than the curry, and hurries over to greet you. She blows out a sigh as she gets close.
Thanks Tallvar...needed an excuse to get away from that one. I think he started sampling the ale a bit early. Hey, who's your friend? She motions to Madir, her eyes showing quite a bit of interest in the hunter's peculiar appearance. Her eyes show excitement, never distaste or prejudice.
"PHou CHOO Eweye" replies Gruhx through a mouthful of bread. Swallowing the bite, "Yes, mom." he beams, glancing towards the crowd. "I e'en danced fer 'em."
His eyes falling on the fire pit as he finishes the last half of the bread, his stomach rumbles. "I be back. Need Ameiko's food."
With a slight nod to his mother and Eliazur, he trudges over to the grill. From the back of the line, he holds up 3 fingers.
Tallvar laughs lightly. "You're popular as ever, Ameiko," he teases. "Something you put in the curry, maybe?"
He nods toward the man standing beside him. "This is Madir. Seems like he's not from here, and I thought, what better introduction to Sandpoint than one of Ameiko Kaijitsu's specialty dishes?"
"Hello. There are to be many strange people in this town. You're a pale elf, your eyes are unusual, earlier I saw a large beast dancing to the music, and that dwarf over there has no beard."
He stares blankly at Ameiko, then into the crowd... and blinks exactly once. "I like it here, I think."
He then turns back to Tallvar. "You were asking why I came here. I didn't come for the festival. I am looking for a woman called Shalelu. I think she can help me."
Tallvar glances at Ameiko for a brief instant, as if confirming that they're experiencing the same conversation. "Ah, well," he says. "I think Shalelu was off that way." He gestures vaguely in the direction of the elven ranger's perch, unsure if she's still there. Then he turns his gaze on the crowd. "Otherwise Oren might know where she is. Oh, Oren's the beardless dwarf."
Koya smiles and nods at Gruhx; not that the Trox waited for permission anymore...thankfully he had gotten out of that habit. But, it was still nice to have a plan accepted every now and again.
The man on the grill takes note of Gruhx and his skin goes pale. He had never quite gotten used to the insect-like humanoid, even though he'd seen him many times around town. With a nervous nod, he begins working on Gruhx's order.
Ameiko grins and gives Tallvar a wink. Now, now...don't divulge my secrets to everyone. There's a reason the recipe is so secret.
Welcome, Madir. I hope you like our humble little town so far. I saw Shalelu earlier, watching over us as usual. But, yes - I'm certain you can ask Oren where she may be.
As everyone makes their way into the square, Father Zantus and his accolytes wheel a large covered wagon in. After recounting a short parable of how Desna first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child who she transformed into an immortal butterfly as a reward for her aid, they pull aside the wagon's cover, releasing the thousand children of Desna - a furious storm of a thousand swallowtail butterflies that swarm into the air in a spiraling riot of color. A great cheer comes from the crowd, as children futilely chase the butterflies, never quick enough to catch them.
Three hands grasping the food, Grux watches wide-eyed as the butterflies are released. As one lands on his nose, his eyes cross, his mouth drops open...and he drops a hunk of bread to the ground.
*AH.... erupts from him and the creature flies off to join the others. The trox's cheeks turning scarlet as he slowly bends over to retrieve the bread, he bites a hunk out of it.
Glancing back and forth, he smiles to himself. 'None saw that...I'm ok. No need to draw more attention to myself...at least I'm good at blending in'
As he scans the crowd again, munching away, his eyes fall on the beardless dwarf. 'Why people say Oren untrustworthy just because his face isn't shaggy? He's always been kind that I seen. Looks good without the fungus on his chin.'
As Oren is observing the interaction between Ameiko, Tallvar, and the newcomer, he realizes that he's been spotted in the crowd, but doesn't react. Instead he turns his head towards Father Zantus and the releasing of the butterfly. A smile slowly inches across his face at the sight. You certainly don't see anything like this in the desert, he thinks fondly to himself.
Tallvar watches with excitement as butterflies leave the wagon in the hundreds, filling the air in a dazzling spectacle of color and motion. Ember likewise gets caught up in the moment, dashing away from Tallvar's side. She weaves between children and adults alike, chasing and leaping after butterflies as they flutter about the square. In this she is more successful than most Sandpoint's children. With a growl and a leap, she snaps her jaws down on one butterfly, plucking it from the air. She repeats this a second time, munching on the insect she's caught. Tallvar can sense the enjoyment Ember is getting from the event. A small part of him finds the scene ever so slightly disconcerting, given the little fox's nature and the symbolism of the butterflies. Still he can't help but laugh at the creature's antics.
Madir listens intently at Ameiko, back to the focused stares he had given Tallvar before. "I understand. I will ask Oren. Thank you for your help and your hospitality. I will be leaving now, but I am glad we have met. Goodbye."
Without waiting for a response, and losing out on Ameiko's salmon, he starts moving towards Oren. However, when the butterflies fly out, it gives him pause. He looks at the children playing, trying to catch some of the butterflies.
Would I have had the same response, if I saw this as a child? He asks himself. But thoughts like that were meaningless. Regaining feelings like that, from enthusiasm to despair, is why he came to this town. So all he can do now is press on.
And as such, he walks up to the Ouat dwarf. "Hello. I believe you are Oren. Would you happen to know where Shalelu is?"
Standing at the edge of the crowd, his hand resting easily on the head on the worn pick on his belt, Oren watches the pale newcomer approach him rather suddenly. Rather than watching him approach directly, Oren scans the nearby crowd as if looking for someone in particular.
At the mention of Shalelu, though, the stranger has Oren's full attention. He sizes up the newcomer, finally recognizing the pale skin as that of a fetchling. Rarely, but not unheard of. "What exactly is your business with her?" he asks plainly. "Can't say as I've seen your face before, so you're not an old acquaintance."
Eli sits next to Koya as the new Cleric of the Cathedral tells the Story of Desna. While not part of his own personal faith, Eli has always enjoyed the purity, joy and loveliness of the tale.
As the sun's beams shine through the swirls of butterflies and the children of the town chase them he turns to the old Varisian fortune teller "Thanks for bringing me all those years back. It's moments like these that remind me of how much you've done for myself and Gruhx." Eli stands up "I'm going to head down and check on the big bug. Anything I can get for you on the way?"
Madir stands a little too close to Oren, forcing him to look directly downward to be able to see the dwarf as he's talking to him.
"I heard about her. She lives out in the wilderness, but is still beloved and admired by the people here and elsewhere. I live in the wilderness too, but people hate me. I want to change this, so I came here to look for her."
The dwarf was feeling his ire building, but he managed to keep it down. He stood his ground in the face of the pale-skinned fetchling and held his yellow-eyed gaze. "That's easy. You can start by not encroaching on a person's personal space. No one is gonna warm up to you if you get in their face like you are right now. Show people respect and courtesy, and they will usually return the favor."
Madir silently takes in Oren's words, then takes a few steps back to create some distance between him and the dwarf. "Is this alright? Thank you for your advice."
He stands, vacantly staring at Oren for a while, having difficulty with finding the right words to say. Eventually, he settles on an apology:"If I have offended you, I apologize. I know my behavior is very off, I simply... never learnt the right way." Then, Tallvar's introduction comes to mind, and like the elf had done, Madir extends his hand towards Oren. "My name is Madir."
Oren takes a moment to size up the fetchling further, now that he has a little breathing space. While not as well trained as he would like, the dwarf has learned to attune himself to his own feelings, as well as those around him. While he's not entirely sure, he feels a sense of uncertainty and... perhaps a hint of fear?
Maybe he's genuine. Shale's always telling me to not judge someone by first impressions.
Oren hesitates for a moment, then takes the Fetchlings hand. "Oren. But I suppose you already knew that. I can't promise you that Shalelu will be the answer to all your problems, but she may be willing to help. Just keep in mind that she usually doesn't have much to do with people, except in small doses. That's not to say that she doesn't care, but that she likes her privacy."
Suddenly, Gruhx spots the overly pale newcomer. Slamming the remaining two items into his mouth simultaneously, he lumbers over there. 'Mom would want me to introduce myself and make sure new person was happy.'
Towering over Madir, he swallows deeply. "HEY DERE! I Gruhx. Why you white?"
Koya shields her eyes as she looks up at Eliazur. She shows a warm smile and her eyes show the wisdom that her adopted sons always recognized in her. No one really understood why Koya had taken them in; when questioned she just shrugs and says "It was right." Now, her sons were out in the world, and they both seemed to fuss over her - an interesting change from the past.
No, I have all I need, that you Eli. Just...try to control the damage your brother can create...as always. She winks to show she meant nothing by it, but most were well aware of Gruhx's....well, being Gruhx.
As the day winds down and the sun begins to set, Father Zantus takes the central podium. However, the crowd doesn't seem too quick to catch on; children still rush around in animated games, while drink still flows among the adults, fueling all sorts of loud conversations.
Father Zantus sighs, and rummages around in a pocket in his robes. He produces a stone and sets it on the slanted podium top, then pulls out a small mallet. He hits the stone, and a sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd. 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 the now beaming Father Zantus looks over the gathering.
The Father clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman's scream slices through the air. The acoustics of the square make it hard to pinpoint, but a moment later another scream arises, then another! Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises - high pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human.
The crowd parts as something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a painted 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, changed from shrill, scratchy voices.
Oren sighs audibly at the approach of the Trox. "Now Gruhx... The dwarf is interrupted by the screaming, and Oren's attention is grabbed by the movement through the crowd. He turns around and sees the goblin hiding by the cart.
Suddenly focused on the threat, Oren shouts out, "Gruhx! Help protect the citizens!"[/b] He points towards the cart in the hope that the Trox notices the goblin. Then he moves closer to get a better shot the the wily creature.
Surprise Round Action: Move 20'
Turning towards the noise, Gruhx watches in horror as the puppy falls. "NO!"
Eye's following the creature's path, he recognizes the imp near the wagon. He rubs the brand on his hand unconsciously, eyes wide. "They've...they've come fer me....GRUHX NO GO!"
Turning to flee, he stops. 'What if they take Mom because she save me.'
With a violent shake of his head, the massive trox approaches the vile creature. "You leave now. NO KIN STAY!" he screams, shaking a finger at the goblin.
Madir, without batting an eye, turns to Gruhx and answers. "Hello. I am Madir. My skin is white because I-"
The screams stop him from responding, and instinctively he reaches for his sword.
He draws his falchion, holding it in two hands as its tip leans on the ground, and shouts. "BLACK! Come!"
As Eliazur sees the cackling goblin commit this atrocity, he moves towards the creature hoping to prevent further bloodshed.
Tallvar looks around at the gathered crowd, suddenly on edge. Seeing the goblin as the only obvious danger...aside from the general mayhem which was hard to control...he charges towards it, Ember loping at his side.
The area about the square is swiftly dissolving into madness and mayhem. Above the shouts and cries of pain, an odd song starts in the distance.
As the song creates a bizarrely dangerous and frenetic environment, more goblins gather by the wagon, casting their eyes about for potential victims or spoils. They see you approaching, and attack!
Eliazur
Gobbos!
Oren
Gruhx
Madir
Eli hears the goblins chanting in their horrible tongue. A fire flashes in his eyes as he is momentarily taken back to that scene so many years ago. His parents bloody in the dirt. Goblins burning the wagons. the horses running to the wilderness ... "You took my family from me those many years ago. How dare you ruin such a holy day!"
Tallvar clenches his fists, listening to the goblins sing as the square descends into chaos. That night in the forest when he'd made a pact with whatever sent Ember, he had heard them chattering, and he hadn't known what they were saying. Now, he almost wishes he couldn't understand them. The half-elf finds himself wishing he had his crossbow.
I'm not helpless, he reminds himself. Tallvar draws his dagger from his side, then locks his gaze on the goblin next to Eliazur. His eyes widen and his pupils contract as he wills misfortune on the small creature, hoping to throw off its ability to attack others.
The goblin next Eli shakes its head in an attempt to banish the odd feeling, then sneezes several times in rapid succession. It seems to move a bit unsure of itself, though it still seems to attempt the very impractical maneuver of trying to dive between Eli's legs.
It fails...very badly as it essentially head-butts Eli's boot. It lands face down, its legs somehow curled over its buttocks as its back arches weirdly.