tap...tap...tap...hello, is this thing on?
The morning of the festival begins bright and early. 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.
The turnout for the opening speeches is quite respectable, and the four keynote speakers 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, much to everyone’s but Larz’s amusement. 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,” revealing that the lead role of Avisera the harpy queen will be played by none other than the famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda! Finally, Father Zantus steps up give a short speech thanking everyone for coming before declaring the Swallowtail Festival underway.
Everyone then begins moving about the tents, enjoying the food, shopping, and joining in the various games and challenges (such as wrestling, archery, staves, strong man exercises, etc). Lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s taverns. Each brings its best dishes—this event is a marketing push by the taverns as much to win new customers as it is to feed a hun- gry crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder or the White Deer’s peppercorn venison.
You may participate in a competition before and after lunch.
Competitions. Three rolls with appropriate bonus Total the three rolls. 51= first prize, 45= second place, 40= third place. These scores represent the NPC scores. If two PCs are involved in a given competition then they are ranked as per their rolls vs the aforementioned NPCs. Competitions include:
1) Archery: any bow to hit rolls
2) Wrestling: Grappling CMB rolls
3) Staves: hit rolls with staff
4) Drinking contest: Fortitude saves (a roll of 1 on any save and the character becomes sickened for three hours but gains a +2 bonus to saves vs fear effects)
5) Strongman competition: 1d20+double strength bonus
6) Varisian blink (card game, think poker): gambling or Intelligence rolls (10 silver piece buy in; 1st place take is 60 silver, 2nd place 30 silver, 3rd place 10 silver)
Valtyra wanders around the festival enjoying all of the activities and meeting the people. She will try all of the various dishes and compliment the chefs. She’ll try and catch up with Cyrdak and find out the story about how he convinced such an illustrious star to perform here for the festival. At some point she’ll tour the cathedral and ask Father about any interesting architectural choices or if there are any pieces that survived the church’s fire and are incorporated into this building.
She’s basically just wandering around the festival, being gregarious, and seeing if any interaction continues for more than a short pleasantry. She doesn’t really know anyone outside of Wrath, but wants to meet people and have a good time.
She’ll gamble for a while.
When she gets third, she’ll announce that she’s contributing all of her winnings to the church for its upkeep and continuation. After that, she’ll find Wrath and see if we can find Brodert. I’d like to talk a bit of ‘shop’ but more in the sense of “what attracted you to the study of the Thassilonians” rather than details of the research.
Runt enters the town on the heals of her recently acquired travelling companions Agamer, Templeton, and Rowan, scurrying to keep up and staring around with wide eyes. So. Many. People. And none of them fighting!
Though her helmet is off, her greasy hair is still bell shaped, having spent too many hours? days? plastered inside of it. She has a pleasant face, but it is marred with scars and smudged with dirt. She, literally, has never taken a bath though the others in her party have brought baths up quite frequently in her presence and she is quite looking forward to trying one.
Trunt scuffs his feet frustratedly as he meanders down the street. Why can’t they work faster, isn’t it important to them? And what am I going to do for the next day? Just then, he catches a whiff of the wonderful aroma’s coming from the Hagfish. Well, surely I can find something useful to do in there, and I have to eat anyway right? Trunt lets himself into the tavern and orders up something for breakfast to start the day off right. Trunt stays quiet and just listens, trying to collect some information about the current goings on, engaging when he has to too keep the conversation amiable. He ends up wandering around town, talking to locals and wanderers alike.
As lunch time approaches, the exotic smell of that curry spiced salmon is unavoidable and he must help himself to a helping...or two of it...and maybe some of that lobster chowder as well.
Feeling a little lonely, Trunt makes his way toward the card game to watch the competition.
Rowan Ellis steps out from his room at the Rusty Dragon Inn and makes his way to the festival. It had been a strange couple of days. When he set out for Sandpoint, he had not expected to find a very angry halfling that looked as though she had been raised by wild animals. It was particularly concerning that she had apparently come from a Lamashtan temple. He would need to keep his eye on her. Even still, he had made the effort to be friendly, and invited her to join him and his companions on the way to Sandpoint. He wasn't the type to turn his back on someone that might need helping.
Once the festival begins, Rowan can't resist trying his hand at the archery competition.
Close, but not quite enough to take third place. A bit disappointed, Rowan vows to practice more so he can do better next year. He wanders away from the archery competition and passes by the card games. Upon hearing Valtyra announce she is donating her winnings to the church, he approaches her and smiles.
"That is awfully generous of you. The world could always use a bit more generosity."
"Thank you! The draw of the cards was very lucky for me and I don't think I would have done nearly as well if they hadn't been as fortuitous. It seems a bit wrong to take money that was nearly all luck. This church was hard won and I want it to have the best start possible," replies Valtyra.
Remembering her manners, "By the way, my name is Valtyra, what is yours? And how did you come to be here for the festival?"
"Very admirable. Most people wouldn't make that decision. My name is Rowan Ellis. I'm from a little village not too far from here. As for why I'm here, I am a servant of Erastil. When I heard that the cathedral was being rebuilt, I decided I should be here for the dedication. Plus, I will never say no to free food! What about you? Are you from Sandpoint?"
Zandril adjusts his hat one more time before heading out to the square for the commencement of the festival. The half-elf sports a reddish-brown vest over a white tunic. With pants tucked into his newly shined black boots to match his vest. He adjusts the songbird medallion around his neck to be perfectly centered. Lastly, he straps a long thin sword around his waste and throws his shortbow over his shoulder for the archery contest later.
Zandril walks toward the commencement with a casual, but steady pace eager for the festival to get underway. Zandril makes his way through the crowd and as Mayor Deverin's speech starts he spots Camil in the crowd and sidle's up next to him. He clasps his hand on his shoulder, "Pretty big turnout. You think you can win at cards this year?"
As the speeches wrap up Zandril makes his way to the archery contest. He waits his turn behind a cleric of Erastil. As the man gets off to a rough start but finishes respectfully, Zandril slaps Rowan on the back and smiles, "Good effort, but let me show you how it's done. Name's Zandril by the way," offering his hand to the cleric.
Zandril makes quick work of the targets and takes his bow at the adulations given to him as he takes first place in the competition. Walking back to the cleric with a huge smile, "You'd have though it was I who prayed to Erastil before the contest. Anyway, you hungry? Let's go get some lunch, I'm buying."
"It is very good to meet you Rowan. I'm actually from Magnimar. From a young age, I was fascinated by the ancient monuments that dot the Varisian landscape and have researched them, perhaps a bit too obsessively at times. I have learned they are from an ancient civilization, the Thassilonians, and a local sage, Brodert, has been researching them as well. I came here to learn more from him," she explains.
Turning to the half-elf next to Rowan, "And who might you be? If you don't mind me being presumptuous."
"Oh wait, sorry to be rude and interrupt right after asking a question, but an idea has just come to me. Rowan, you're a genius. The food is great and plentiful, why don't we three retire to one of the eating establishments and eat as well as talk?" suggests the fiery redhead.
Pointing over to one eatery, "I've heard the salmon and early mead over at that one are particularly good, why don't we try that?"
Apologizing again, "Again, I'm very sorry I interrupted, but continue. I saw you did very well at the archery competition, didn't I?"
Runt peels off from the others and looks for a bath house. Though she finds one she is sorely disappointed when she discovers it costs money - these strange metal disks. So she tries to go to a restaraunt and finds out it costs money too and, besides, they think she stinks too much. So she hears about a bunch of competitions and decides to enter the one with a test of strength hoping she might get some money.
Unfortunately she is the wrong size for the weights and she goes away hungry and tired. Eventually she bumps into Rowan and the rest of them just in time to hear them talking about food. She doesn't say much and keeps a safe distance, but she tags along until they get to the eating establishment at which point she balks, having been rejected once already, and decides to scavenge around the area and hopefully find some discards to eat.
Trunt sits down around the game of Varisian Blink to watch the game, enjoying the display of skill. Trunt notices the wonderful hands that Valtyra enjoyed and looks longingly at the winnings she takes, but can't afford the entrance fee. "To bad, I could have got a little spending money! Moving on, Trunt notices the the strongman competition, snickers to himself and goes up to join. "Yes, I'd like to enter! I'll show all of you up!"
Smiling, Trunt looks up after his attempts, he says, "Well, it was a near thing!"
Banny's sweet on one of the Vinder girls. Her dad's going to lose it when he finds out.
@Valtyra That'll be fantastic!
While on the road to Sandpoint, in the early morning while packing up camp Wrath speaks up, "So, Valtyra, have you ever been to Sandpoint?
You think it could be bigger than Magnimar?!", his eyes get wide at the thought of it. "I'd never been in a big city like that before. There were villages near the Wing's of Zandet, but nothing near the size Magnimar. I'd never met so many greedy people either. I'd always heard that vice flows freely in big cities, but I never imagined it could be that harsh."
”I haven’t been to Sandpoint before, I’m looking forward to the festival and learning what we can about the Thassilonians,” says Valtyra excitedly.
In a more serious tone, ”Yes, there are many greedy people there, most of my step family are merchants and I spent most of my life listening to talk of making money and ledgers. I fled to researching and learning about the Thassilonians.”
”What led you to doing research? How did you go from a small village to Magnimar?” she asks.
Upon meeting Valtyra Zandril takes his hat off and bows, "Zandril Siska at your service.". Zandril stands up straight and replaces his hat. His grin grows wider as Valtyra mentions the archery contest, "You heard correctly. Shelyn's grace was in my favor today. Shall we go eat then?"
As they start to head to the food tents, Zandril looks behind, "I think we're being followed.". Zandril walks back to the dwarf? woman. "I noticed you following us would you like to join us for lunch?" At being close to the woman, he notices the dirt and grime and shifts himself to be positioned upwind of her. "But first let's get you cleaned up. Follow me.". Without waiting for Runt's response, Zandril turns back to Valtyra and Rowan and hollers at them, "Go on ahead. Save me a seat, I'll catch up with you shortly."
Zandril leads Runt through a couple side streets and finds a bathhouse that isn't too busy and walks in. He hands the host a gold piece and tells her to make sure the woman gets the best treatment and some clean clothes. Turning to Runt with a smile, "Take your time and enjoy. When you're ready come meet up with us and get some food.". Zandril thanks the host one more time and walks off back to the food tent to find Valtyra and Rowan.
"That was some damn good shooting Zandril. Erastil must have guided your hand indeed! I'm Rowan Ellis. Good to meet you! I'd be happy to get lunch. We should go to the Rusty Dragon. I stayed there last night and dinner was excellent."
"The two of us were just heading to the Rusty Dragon for lunch. You are of course welcome to join us. I'll go find somewhere for us to sit."
Rowan notices Runt following the group, but decides to let Zandril handle her. When they are out of earshot, Rowan says "I hope he knows what he is doing. That one is quite the handful."
Rowan finds one of the few empty tables at the Rusty Dragon Inn and sits down. He thoroughly enjoys a plate of Ameiko's spiced salmon and a mug of mead. "So, you're interested in those old ruins Valtyra? Fraid I don't know too much about all that. My pa always told me to stay away from those sorts of places. Said they were dangerous."
Calling after Zandril as he runs off, "Or you could let me clean her thoroughly with a spell! Why are you doing things the hard way?"
Runt gives Zandril a baffled and confused look and waits for him to laugh and smack her with something. When that does not happen she enters the bath house in a state of shock. The bar of soap quite enchants her. All those bubbles and slippy like a fish. Almost in spite of herself she emerges clean and smelling like lilacs, though her hair is now a mess. Remembering how everyone commented on her smell she also cleans her clothing and armor in the bath if she can get away with it.
A still smelly, but NICE smelly, Runt seeks out Zandril so she can share her adventure. She joins them at the table and is about to gush thanks and tell him all about the soap, but her inner reservations take hold and instead grunts a simple "thanks" before taking a seat.
"I'm glad to see you didn't become a merchant yourself." Wrath looks away What'd you even mean by that? he shakes his head. "What I meant was, it's good to have a traveling companion. It was difficult finding my way to Magnimar on my own, and once I got into the city I felt really alone. It's just good to have company."
He seems eager to move on to a new topic, "My people have lived in our small community for many years, long ago a dragon named Zandet saved my people from dying. This-" He points to a silver amulet hanging from his neck. "-was one of his scales. He taught us about a civilization long past and about the vices that lead to their downfall. My people, called The Way of the Silver Claw, seek to overcome our mortal weaknesses so that we do not fall like this lost empire, Thassilon. We speak and read in Thassilonian, though we do not call it that. I wish to know more about how they fell and how the vices lead to that."
"One of our elders had a dream that I would go to Magnimar and join the Pathfinder Society, and as a sign that the dream was true they would send me to Sandpoint." He says quite eagerly. "It must be true then! This path, this research will help me to overcome my vice!" A triumphant smile spreads across his face as he gathers his belongings, eager to finally get to Sandpoint.
Wrath wanders around the festival in true wonder. His dwarven stature limits his visibility and makes him feel even more overwhelmed about the whole thing. All the noise and people weren't things he was quite used to yet. He avoided participating in the competitions, knowing that losing would lead to shame. Even worse, winning would lead to pride. He did quite enjoy seeing Valtyra do well at the strange game played with paper, especially when she decided to give the money away rather keep it for herself.
After wandering around and enjoying all of the competitions, Wrath asks around to see if they know anything about Thassilonian ruins or locations nearby.
After that, he would go looking for Valtyra to congratulate her for doing so well at the card game. They were both staying at the Rusty Dragon, so he decided that might be a good place to start. Besides, he was starting to get a little hungry and heard that the food there was fantastic.
"Well done with the competition Valtyra! It was one of the most exciting things I ever have seen!" Wrath says with a grin as he approaches. "It seems you have made a number of friends." He says, turning to the man, half-elf, and the little one. He bows slightly, "You may call me Wrath, who might you all be? Did you all come to Sandpoint together?"
Amidst the banter, Wrath takes a seat and orders his meal. He eats and drinks slowly and deliberately. He's trying hard to not eat or drink more than he needs, even though the fish and mead are together the best meal he has ever tasted.
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Misury Was among the crowd that Day, Having spent most of the morning by herself. She walked among the stands, Admiring the foods and competition, Yet didn't participate in anything. She was broke, having spent all her money on a week's food which she now carries in her pack. She was followed by her ever present Eidolon, Disguised at the moment to Hide his true form. Any onlooker would see a really tall Man, Probably a Teifling given his partner, But the way Rixis moved as he followed Misury showed that he was more concerned with keeping her safe- than participating in the fun.
Misury managed to get a candy apple from one of the stands, which she promptly offered to her companion, who refused it. The woman sighs. She held onto the candy apple as they wandered, Making sure. It to draw too much attention- but with all these forieners in town it was easy for them to blend right in.
Misury made her way through the main courtyard before having a seat at a bench, Rixis standing watch beside her, Glaring at anyone who approached.
Zandril makes his way back to Rowan and Valtyra at the Rusty Dragon. He strides on into the inn and finds them sitting with another at a table. Smiling as he overhears the newcomer compliment Rowan on his archery skills, Zandril plops himself down next to Rowan, "Quite masterful indeed!" Looking at Wrath he offers his hand, "Name's Zandril Siska, nice to meet you."
Zandril ordered himself a mug of ale and a plate of salmon. As the ale comes he takes a nice big drink and looks toward Valtyra, "I realize there are easier ways to do things, and you probably could have waved your hand and magicked the dirt from our timid friend. But would that have been for her benefit or yours? If there's anything my father taught me it's that the easy way and the right way are often not the same, and trust me, I've learned this lesson a hundred times over. Something in her eyes told me she just needed to be shown some kindness. But I digress. This is a festival! We're here to eat and drink! And meet new people!" With that he raises his glass to his new found friends and takes a good sized gulp from his mug giving Valtyra a quick wink.
Zandril sees Runt walk up to the table and motions toward an empty seat. He simply smiles and gives a subtle nod at the thank you. "Eat. You won't get a better meal anywhere around."
It was nice to have travel companions, especially ones that appreciated your company. Lavanor especially enjoyed talking about archery with Rowan. He didn't consider himself a very religious person, but could relate to the cleric on some things.
As far as the gnome, he hadn't had much experience with others of his race, but he had plenty of experience with druids. With him, Lavanor was able to talk about nature, although he preferred to do it at camp when he could sit and be at eye level.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of their newest companion. Initially, he thought they were saving a halfling, but something seemed off. She seemed to keep to herself for the most part, and he didn't want to insult he by asking about her background.
While he always enjoyed being out in nature, a soft bed and a warm bath once in a while never hurt. He looked forward to both before partaking in the festival.
Lavanor was excited to see what was happening at the festival. He grabbed some breakfast while he listened to the town leaders speak. Once the festival officially began, he walked around taking everything in.
Seeing Rowan at the archery competition, he goes over to give it a try.
After lunch, he puts his strength to the test.
Rowan turns towards the newcomer, Wrath. "I'm Rowan Ellis, servant of Erastil. I traveled here from the woods outside Nybor with a couple of friends. Along the way, we ran into her," he says while gesturing towards Runt, "picking a fight with a hobgoblin, and doing a remarkably good job of it. We decided to take her with us to Sandpoint."
As the conversation continues, Rowan asks "So the two of you are both researching those Thasso-something ruins? Have you made any big discoveries yet?"
Wrath accepts Zandril's handshake with a big smile, "And a pleasure to meet you. Your performance at the archery contest was quite the spectacle. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
Returning his attention to Rowan, "Sounds like you all have been on quite an adventure then. We just arrived in Sandpoint last night, so we haven't discovered anything noteworthy yet. Thou, I am curious to know about that crumbled tower out toward the beach." Looking over to Runt he asks "So what lead up to you picking a fight with a hobgoblin? I'm sure it's quite the tale."
Few people saw the small man pale gnome walking around the town. He can go pretty unnoticed for those not looking down. Even so much that he had trouble getting attention to participate in the drinking contest.
Although once he had their attention, he downed the drinks much quicker than they expected of a man of his stature (that wasn't also a dwarf).
"Eh, this stuff is weaker than, [hic]. Well, guess if you drink enough of it quickly it'll do the job. Maybe some food will help."
Templeton will head/stumble over toward the Rusty Dragon for some food, and perhaps to keep the edge on his condition.
Immediately before entering the Rusty Dragon, Templeton will cast Dancing Lights and have them circling his head. Stumbling through the door, he announces loudly "Is it just me, or is anyone else seeing these lights? They're so pretty! Could I have another drink before to make sure these don't go away."
It isn't normal for Templeton to hit the sauce, but he's got some momentum going and he needs some liquid courage to deal with this crowd of large and strange people.
Runt snorts and almost coughs up her food when Rowan says she was picking a fight with a hobgoblin and when Wrath follows up by asking for the tale she decides to respond.
"You don't know hobgoblins very well, do you. They live by the strength of the sword. They take what they want from whoever is weaker and, unfortunately, to many I appear weak. No, I did not start the fight. I was minding my own business and IT started the fight by demanding all my gear and telling me I would make a poor slave, but would take me in anyway."
"Agamer, Templeton, and Rowan happened along serendipitously, it seems."
Runt has a strange look on her face, like she is not sure it was all that serendipitous. She wonders if maybe she is being set up, her cynical side (which is probably her largest side) rearing its ugly head.
"I don't really understand why they intervened. I could understand wanting a share in the loot, but they said they did it because it was the 'right thing to do'."
"Anyway, not much to tell, it was begun and ended quite quickly. I summoned some dogs and these folks did their thing. It sure wasn't expecting to fight more than one scrawny human."
"Helping you was indeed the right thing to do. Goblins are a menace for all the reasons you described and more. We all have a duty to stand up to them when we can" Rowan says to Runt with an uncharacteristic note of anger in his voice.
Upon seeing the dramatic entrance of Templeton, Rowan waves him over. "Templeton! Come sit and have a drink with us. Or perhaps don't. It seems you have had quite a few."
"Don't worry about me. It has been ages since I have been overcome by anything ill entering my body."
Templeton joins Rowan and Runt at the table.
"I agree with Rowan. Those goblins are not friends of nature at all. They are a stirge, [hic], I mean scourge on this area."
After hearing Runt's story Wrath's smile fades, "I'm glad you made it out of there with friends rather than in chains. I am sorry, I believe I missed your name. What do your friends call you?"
Upon Templeton's entry Wrath can't help but agree with Rowan, "Maybe it's time to set down the bottle and chat with some friends." When Templeton gets to the table Wrath speaks up again. "Templeton, is it? My name is Wrath, and it's a pleasure to meet you. It's a good thing you three came along when that hobgoblin was harassing our friend here." He turns to Valtyra "We came here from Magnimar. We were blessed with an easy journey here to Sandpoint, no goblins crossed our path."
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As Misury sat down eatong her candy apple, Rixis Turned to her, he did not like being out in the open like this. Apon his request Misury huffed and Made her way to the Rusty Dragon, Where at least they could watch some drinking competition go on.
She entered the Tavern, Followed By her tall Compainion, Walking around the tables full of people as she made her way to an untaken table... Sitting down while Rixis Stood watch- like usual
After hearing Runt's story Wrath's smile fades, "I'm glad you made it out of there with friends rather than in chains. I am sorry, I believe I missed your name. What do your friends call you?"
In goblinoid she says "Runt," then remembering where she is repeats it in common. She rolls the word 'friend' over in her head. She knows how to speak common, so the word is, if not familiar, known - but she has not had cause to use it before. Where she comes from they mostly speak goblinoid, at least in the warrens where she spent most of her time. And in goblinoid there is no word for friend that she knows of.
Isabella emerges from the cathedral after the dedication finishes. She's been a familiar sight there, helping a bit with the construction and some of the minor religious iconography.
Those local to Sandpoint have likely seen the aasimar woman about, at the very least as one of the healers at Hannah's, the local chirurgeon and herbalist who handles minor maladies that do not require miraculous intervention. The silvery-haired woman is a semi-recent arrival to the town, having come on the heels of a goblin attack against one of the small outlying farm communities outside the walls several years ago; now she is a somewhat common sight, though few people know the particulars of her story. Nevertheless, her calm demeanor and her willingness to help at the cathedral and the healer's have earned her at least tolerance from the townsfolk.
She is temperate during the festivities, primarily taking in the sights and smiling at the joy of the other townspeople, especially any children.
Seeing Zandril in the crowd Camil greets him with a laugh, "Well I wouldn't be much if I didn't try my luck at cards!" With a mild swagger Camil lifts a mug and head to the gambling competition. "Lets see how well we do! I'll catch you after I'm done risking what coin I have.
Introducing himself to Wrath later on, "Pleased to meet you, My name is Camil, and I've been a cardplayer here for a little bit of time. What was that about Hobgoblins? They sound like nasty sorts.
To Runt, replying
Camil pulls up a chair to the table and lounges in it, pushing back the hat from his head, and smiling at the assembled crowd.
Rowan is taken aback by the arrival of Misury and her eidolon. A demon just wandering into the bar? His hand instinctively starts to reach for his bow before he realizes that the rest of the townsfolk don't seem particularly concerned. He tries to play it cool and returns to a more relaxed position.
Rowan looks at the Sandpoint locals sitting at the table with him. He speaks in a whisper to avoid being overheard. "Who are those two? Is it normal for demons to be wandering around town?"
Wrath's back is to the door, so he doesn't see Misury and Rixis enter the Rusty Dragon. But when they pass to find a table he notices them. His eyes get wide when he hears Rowan say that she is a demon. He whispers, "I've never seen someone like that before. Could it really be a demon in a tavern? They don't seem to be doing any harm..." Wrath glances back toward the Misury's table, then back to Rowan. "She's wearing some kind of symbol, do you think it could be that of a demon lord?"
"Demon!?"
Runt jumps up and casts her eyes around the room. Low level grunts like her tend to make great sacrifices to demons in the eyes of the temple leadership. Some of the idiots actually consider it a privilege, but not her. So many crazies in that place.
When she sees the object of Rowan's attentions she does a double take.
"You scared me you..." she is about to say idiot but thinks better of it. Insults lead to fighting, and fighting is not what she is after. "... you just - what makes you think that is a demon?"
"You mean your job is to play cards? That's quite interesting, you get all you need from that? About the hobgoblin though, Runt here was being hassled by one on the road." Wrath stumbles a little over Runt's name. It feels kind of insulting to call her that. Doesn't sound like she was raised by the kindest folk. "The monster wanted to take her belongings and make her a slave. Sounds like she was about to give it the beating of it's life when these good folks showed up, together they scared it off and won the battle without any loss of blood."
Conversation floats around about various subjects among those who have met. Others merely eat and enjoy or tolerate the company of others in the general vicinity. Finally, everyone starts to move outside. Word spreads that the Father Zantus is going to make the closing prayer for the consecration and set loose the doves to close out the festival. Whether interested to hear the close out or merely herded along with the crowd, everyone finds themselves generally in the middle of church courtyard when Father Zantus begins to step up on the stage.
As he steps up 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 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. To the south, through the crowd, you see two goblins coming up the road brandishing their small yet wickedly sharp swords. Most of the crowd begins to scatter.
If you make the roll you notice the goblin (goblin 1) who just killed the dog is hiding under the table just south of the stage.
PC actions
Valtyra 7
Lavanor 5
Camil 4
Trunk 4
Zandril 4
Misury 2
Templeton 2
Wrath 2
Isabella 1
Rowan 1
Runt 1