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Dol smiles again. "Please, no offense was taken, Loth. I simply didn't understand the situation."
Arching an eyebrow, he looks at Mizzug. "Speaking of which, I apologize for not having greeted you earlier, Mizzug. Welcome to Sandpoint and may Torag lend strength to your weapons.
I apologize, but I must say that your appearance here is more confusing than this game-that-has-yet-to-be-decided. You appear to be Shoanti. Razkiv here has spent time among the people, and greeted you in their tongue.
Again, you appear Shoanti, yet do not speak their language. If you please, we would like for this confusion to be cleared up."
Hearing Mizzug's halting speech, and seeing the situation arising from the bet, Sir Jasper steps in. Setting down his ale, he begins to scoop up the betting pool and redistributing it back to the owners as he speaks, "No, no Mr. Stormmaul. Her people are not Shoanti. They are a more isolated community from up near Hook Mountain. The tattoos are the clue, you see. They are rather....intentionally isolated." He appears to want to save Mizzug the trouble of trying to explain, since it is apparent she is un-used to dealing with other cultures and he thinks she may not know what Shoanti means. As he finishes returning all the coins and the sun-rod, "All of the games here at the fair have a prize already assigned to them. Might I suggest the throwing competition? Throwers choice of axe, dagger, or javelin. Come, I'll show you to it. Not long before the town council gives their speeches, either." Sir Jasper picks up his drink and begins moving through the crowd.
Bumbo watches the interaction with interest, sipping away at his ale as he does. Though he doesn't have the inclination...or arm, for a game of throwing, he follows along, enjoying the light conversation.
Aventail watches as the pile grows to contain more than coins, then a round of apologies and then the pile shrinks away again.
”How curious.” she murmurs, then happily follows the others, trying not to be seen to stare at Mizzug’s “clothing”, weapons or tattoos.
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Listening with interest to the knight's explanation, Dol's smile slips a bit. "Oh, I am so sorry Mizzug. I hope that my ignorance of your people did not offend you. Hoestly, I'm not really sure what a Shoanti is myself.
I only know what Razvik has spoken of during our travels. Maybe later you can describe more about your people.
For now, let us do as Sir Jasper suggested and go attempt this game of throwing weapons. Fortunately for all of you, we won't be throwing hammers." Dol chuckles, hoping that his false bravado lightens the mood.
As they turn to leave, Dol will touch Sir Jasper's arm. "Thank you, sir, for shining light on my misperception. It appears there is much that I need to learn about these human lands."
"It no problem." she replies with a smile. "I only know ways of you sirs and madam as told by elders. I fit in good?"
Pausing as she stretches to her full height for a moment before slouching back over, "How you walk as such? It painful."
Shrugging as she turns to follow Dol, she raises an eye. "So we throw weapons at each others? Sounds like fun games. I let sirs and madam throw first, so all get chance. Not fair if I knocks out sirs or madam before they has chance."
"Oh, this bodes well for me. I've been known to throw a dagger occasionally."
He pauses briefly.
"... Not at other people, mind you. And," he turns to Mizzug, "I think we throw them at other objects, not each other."
Given an opportunity, Loth approaches Dol. "If you don't mind me asking, where do you hail from? It sounds like you've traveled a good while to get here."
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Pausing as she stretches to her full height for a moment before slouching back over, "How you walk as such? It painful."
Dol squints at Mizzug, wondering if they are speaking the same language. The words seem to be the same, but he isn't sure they are lining up properly.
After a moment, he thinks he has figured out the meaning behind the question. "Mizzug, the rest of us are not walking slumped over. We are simply shorter than you.
I am sure that you have noticed that some things are bigger than other things. Feel free to walk however you want."
Dol can't quite figure out what is going on with the conversation and searches for an escape when thankfully Loth asks him a direct question.
"Not so far, in the grand scheme of things, Loth. I come from Janderhoff. This is honestly my first trip outside. It is quite exciting, and there is so much to see and learn."
Bumbo nods at Loth. Why, I once heard of a Trox that could heave a goblin far enough to win just about any contest. Hope he isn't here... He looks around, seeking a huge, hulking shadow. Seeing none, he looks up at Mizzug, then stands on his tiptoes to get a bit higher. You're right, you know...it is hard to be small some days. Still, sometimes people expect less of you when you're small...can give you a good advantage in some things.
I think you'll fit in just fine, don't worry about stooping down to our level...we're all different ya' know...all in our own way. Your people are from around Hook Mountain, eh? Any good beasts ta' fight up there?
Aventail has noticed.
”Contrary to your suppositions, Mizzug is actually alarmed that we all stand upright. Her preferred attitude of locomotion is more hunched, and her perambulation eases into that habit.” the metallic woman smiles, warming to her words.
”While you are short, you stand tall, conversely, she is tall, but stands short. Some things are each at the same time their polar opposites, and themselves.”
@Dol Stormmaul: Sir Jasper appears uneasy about something with your apology. "Yes. Not at all a problem. Human lands, and all that."
After leading you all to the throwing game, he takes his leave in a friendly manner. "Now then, much to do, much to do. Don't miss the speeches. Dreadfully boring things, but custom must be observed. And the end will be spectacular." He bustles himself off through the crowd and disappears from sight. You attention, however, is soon drawn to the game. Several local townsfolk are attempting to hit a row of targets back by straw bales and up against the Sandpoint Carpenter's Guild. One of the local members is assiting the guild leader run the booth. That leader is Aesrick Battlehorn, a dwarf man that has an almost heretical love of working with wood (as opposed to stone). His assistant is a human man named John Humanmen. Middle name, Unimportant.
When you approach, Aesrick says, "Ah, new competitors. Here's the rules. Simple enough. Choose a throwing weapon," he gestures to a table behind him filled with weapons (javelins, knives, star knives, hatchets). "And step up to the closest line. If you make the target, you move back a line and try again. Bulls-eye means move back two lines. The further back you go, the more prize you win. If you somehow manage to throw out of the field," You all notice that the carpenter's guild has built a large wooden frame around the back and a bit of the side to hold the targets and straw, and presumably to stop any stray throws from getting out and hurting anyone. "you have to retrieve the weapon and pay for any damage that may have occurred. Savah made the weapons, so they're all good quality. Any questions?"
Aventail picks up a javelin, stands at the third line and hurls it at the target.
The javelin pierces near the middle of the bullseye. The adamantite figure nods, and walks back to the fifth line.
”I am playing!”
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Dol shrugs as Sir Jasper moves away. Hopefully, we have made another friend
Watching Aventail's incredible throw, Dol claps. "Well done! Don't slow down now."
Picking up a javelin of his own, Dol takes careful aim and tries to follow suit, hitting the bulls-eye to his surprise.
"It's not a hammer, but it will do." he says with a laugh.
Moving back two lines, he tries again, hitting the bulls-eye once again as his mouth drops open.
"Erm... Right where I was aiming."
Moving back another two lines, he attempts to adjust for the different, still managing to hit the target.
Moving back one line, he quietly attempts to concentrate. This time, the javelin falls short. Looking at how far back he managed to get, Dol smiles and looks around to see who can best him.
Razkiv walks up next and goes for the Star Knife first, he looks it over fascinated for a bit, tossing it up and catching it, sadly he sets it down and grabs 3 of the knives and moves to the first line.
He nods at the near bullseye and moves back a line.
"Ha!, Yes!"
Loth patiently waits to see the others' performance, then picks up a few daggers. "Right, let's see how rusty I've gotten..."
He draws the first dagger and tosses it, figuring he'd almost have to make an effort to miss at this distance.
He turns to Aesrick. "You weren't kidding, these knives are wonderfully made."
He then tosses again.
"I think I'm beginning to get a feel for this..."
"Yes! Bull's eye!"
"Ha, did you see that one?"
The halfling takes another 20 feet back, takes a deep breath, and tosses another dagger, though this one was destined to fly wide.
"Damn! Guess this is where my luck runs out. Still, the seventh line isn't bad at all!"
"No need blend? Oh okay." replies Mizzug with a smile. 'Wes has beasts ta hunt fer food and all. Useta have big giants but granpapy and papa ended them back in days."
With a grunt, here dislike for the non-living targets apparent, she eyes the options a moment. Picking up a dagger, the woman lumbers towards the first line and gives it a toss.
"Nothin to it. Buts no challenge if dem targets dun scream or dodge..."
Moving back 20ft to the third line, she eyes the target and tosses the dagger again...sending it way over to the right. "ACK! STOOPID NO-MOVE TINGS!!!!"
Before anyone can respond, she reaches behind her and tugs the massive oversized war hammer free. In one smooth, swift motion she launches the gigantic mass of metal across the arena....slamming into the center of the target.
"'IKED DAT!"
Taking a few breathes to calm herself, she realize the numerous eyes staring at her. "Oh...uh...sorry sirs and madam. I's...uh..."
Dropping to all fours, she lopes forward. Retrieving both her weapon and the errant dagger, she returns to the booth. "Howsa much fer damage?"
Bumbo steps back and watches the display, eager to see his new friends in action. Knowing Loth, he'd not wager on many against him in a competition such as this, but who knows? As Aventail's javelin quivers in place, Bumbo hollers. Wooooo! Nice toss Aventail! He skips over and holds his fist in a gesture he'd seen a pair of Sczarni youths do to congratulate each other. Alas, Aventail doesn't bump it with her own fist, so he just shrugs and pumps his fist in the air at the next few fine throws.
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Aventail hits from the 5th line, and moves back ten feet.
Another throw, another hit. She walks to the 6th line...
And again. She moves to the seventh line...
A bullseye. Then the eighth...
Ninth...
A bullseye! So, she stands finally on the 100 feet line. The metallic figure breathes, and launches again...
She shrugs.
"I played!"
Aesrick seems to be smiling at everyone's success. Aventail and Lolth are particularly congratulated. "Aye, good throwing there....... folks?" He quickly shakes his head and hurries on with his speech. "You both win a prize. Specifically, the weapon you were using to throw with." (Loth, you win the dagger. Aventail, you win the javelin. They are both inscribed with the Savah's Armory craft mark.) Turning to Dol Stormmaul, he continues, "You get yourself this here "coupon" for 5% off your next purchase at Savah's Armory."
Then Mizzug goes, utterly destroying the target with her maul. And leaving Aesrick looking shocked. "Ummmm...... well then. I mean.... we built the target out of scraps..... so.... 5 cp for the labor?" He seems wary and impressed at the same time that you weren't able to hit the target with something designed to be thrown, but annihilated it with such an over-sized weapon. And it's easy to sense the disappointment of those around who hand't yet gotten a chance to try their hand. Aesrick turns to the group and the crowd. "Well, guess we'll be shuttin down for a bit. Need to rebuild the range and all that. Probably won't be done before speech time. Only a few minutes away. Go on and shoo, all of you. Go on. Work to do."
"Mizzug, is that right? If you want to understand these folk we should watch these speeches, I think I know a good place to watch from follow me." He begins to lead Mizzug and the others to a good place to watch the show.
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Collecting his coupon, Dol tucks it away and smiles. "This certainly could be valuable in the future. I should peruse the store to make plans."
He falls in step with the rest of the group as they make their way toward the speeches. As he does, he keeps an eye out for Father Zantus, and will stop to attempt to have a word with him if given the chance.
Bumbo takes the time to find a truly appropriate place at which to set up, then takes a seat. He tries to stay near his new friends, but also asks for some room. As soon as he has some, he sighs and shrugs. I did tell him he could listen to the speeches..
The summoner begins his ritual, which had once been completely automatic and unintentional. Now, he felt as if he needed to make it his own, to exercise some control over the abilities that had been thrust upon him. As he continues the summoning, a mark up near his scalp raises and reddens slightly. Then, he finishes with a snort and a stomp, as if channeling the beast itself.
A puff of swirling colors appears then dissipates to reveal a large pig with long, rainbow hued fur and massive, muscled forelegs. The creature chews on...whatever, and then sits down and raises a tiny rear leg to scratch it's massive belly.
Finally, little one. You have had me hidden for too long! Enjoying the best fights while I was away, eh?
Bumbo gives the pig a sheepish look, then looks down at his feet
Uh, yeah...sure
Aventail receives her javelin with much gravitas clearly having never before won a prize. Weapon in hand, and glaive stowed the adamantress follows the group to where Razkiv indicates. Aventail stands rigidly at attention, occasionally peering at her new javelin.
She watches Bumbo’s ritual with interest, and her eyebrow’s raise when the porcine creature appears.
Wonders never cease!
Aventail indeed wonders whether to introduce herself - given that the creaure speaks she decides it is only fitting.
”Greetings little one, I am Aventail.”
"Sorry." she mumbles, turning a bit pink as she hands over the 5c.
"Uh, yes...yes." she grumbles to Razkiv, quickly walking away from the game. As the distance increases, she seems to regain her composure. "So, speeches? What speeches are sirs and madam giving? I not prepare one meself."
Slowly realizing the meaning, she smiles. "OH! I sees. What speeches 'bout? And what...piggy? Yous conjured food that talk?"
'Strange they introduce themselves to their food' she considers, turning to Aventail. With a shrug, "I Mizzug. Pleased to eat you." Drawing her warhammer, she glances towards the small gnome for a signal.
Toot stands quickly, his itch forgotten. The pig lifts himself up to his full size, impressive for a pig, but still only to Aventail's waist. Ah, now this is a proper challenge! The swine looks ready to pounce, but Bumbo quickly dives in between the two, his hands waving.
No, no! This is a friend, a friend! That one too! He gestures as Mizzug moves closer.
Toot seems to consider this, his vibrant fur bristling. What is this, small one? You have brought me to a place of battle, no? Why else would you summon me?
No, I told you that the speeches were today - this day is a celebration, with friends. Toot seems to need quite a bit more background on this strange development, but in time the pig snorts and sits back on its ample rear end. Bumbo looks to his new friends, smiling sheepishly. Sorry about that...he likes a good fight, and was a bit confused. Toot snorts again. [b]Toot is a traveling companion of mine, and a...friend.[b]
You all find yourselves in the town square, facing a rough wooden stage that has been erected for just this purpose. Behind it, the new cathedral rises in splendor. In front of it, a pair of covered carts sit with tarps tied tightly over them. On the stage, a small number of notable people sit on stools, chatting. Various of you recognize (in no particular order), Mayor Kendra Deverin (middle aged human woman with short cut red hair), Father Abstalar Zantus (slightly older middle aged human man with short black hair, beard, and mustache, going grey), Sheriff Balor Hemlock (on the young side of middle aged, bald, shoanti man), and a rather disgruntled looking figure that anyone trained in K(Local) recognizes as a member of the Scarnetti family (owners of the local lumber mill).
The crowd slowly begins the thicken, many small children running up towards the front to be close to the carts. After about 10 to 15 minutes, when it seems half the town must be here, Sheriff Hemlock steps forward on the stage and calls for quiet..... He is summarily ignored, and the towns people continue their murmuring conversations over his repeated attempts at gaining their attention. After a few moments of this, the Scarnetti man pulls something from inside his jacket pocket in a blur of motion, throwing it at the stage near Hemlock's feet. A resounding of thunder splits the air, and immediately quiets the townsfolk.
Looking surprised as anyone, Sheriff Hemlock looses his grip on his sword hilt and turns back to the crowd with a grim expression, a counterpoint to the look of smug mischievousness on Scarnetti's.
"Greetings Sandpoint," he begins loudly. "Welcome to our annual celebration of the Swallowtail Festival. Now, to start off, a few safety reminders to everyone...... Sheriff Hemlock goes on for a while, before being replaced by Mayor Deverin, who is just as long winded. As boring as the speeches are, no one looks ready to leave and the whispers about the carts occasionally rise up.
Aventail smiles amiably at Toot and Bumbo’s introduction thereof. When the worthies assemble Aventail looks for another important member - the absence of whom seems to perturb the warforged. Nevertheless, she thinks perhaps there is a good reason for such an absence and settles in for a good long listen.
"Why carts importants?" inquires Mizzug. "Why so boring? In tribe talkies also show skills with blades...he gun draw his?"
After a while, Mizzug's obvious boredom seems to take over as she squats down in the dirt and begins stabbing at the ground with a dagger.
Razkiv sees Mizzug losing focus, he picks-up a small stone shows it to her, he closes it in his hand and speaks. "Гал" When he opens his hand the stone seems to burn with an internal fire.
"Their god Abadar granted them these gifts, he points to the buildings, the roads "but he requires they gather and speak to show their faith"
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Dol attempts to focus on the speeches as much as he can, and not to get too distracted by the mystery of what the carts might contain.
He finds his eye continually drawn to the cathedral, tracing and analyzing the construction of the spires, the windows, and the supports.
To nobody in particular, he starts talking in a low voice about the new architectural methods that were used to allow the structure to appear so grand. "... and I must truly admit that it is a beautiful structure, yet very little thought appears to have been put into fortification. It does have good heavy doors, but they are a little too accessible to a ram and the windows are too low.
In the case of an attack, the people should be confident that they can fall back to the cathedral as a last stand and find a place of safety and supply.
I wonder what kind of storage they included for resources to last out a siege?"
Bringing his attention back to the stage, and stopping his analysis, Dol finds that he can hear the song of creation, though it is a far different melody from that which he is familiar. As he listens, he begins to notice that there is a harmony which appears to emanate from the crowd gathered for the festival.
Quietly considering this new sensation, Dol's focus drifts once again.
"OOOoo pretty! That be fine...but does Abadabar requires them to be borings?"
Turning to Dol, she cocks her head. "Why would they nots fight fer selfs? Why cowers in buildings?"
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Jolted from his reverie, it takes Dol a couple of seconds to process Mizzug's question.
"Naturally they would be fighting back, from the safety of a building that ensure they would not be surrounded and channels the enemy hordes into an indefensible position of their own.
Just as a warrior relies on armor and shield to protect them, a community needs to rely on walls and fortifications."
Blinking a few times at Dols response, her blank stare screams so many questions before she finally voices only one. "Why no meet in field of battle? Is proper place fer fight."
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Dol responds distractedly, attempting to keep his attention mostly on the speeches.
"I am not referring to warfare, I am referring to defending your homeland from a raid.
Going out to meet a horde of orcs or goblins in an open field would play right into their preferred tactics where they can surround you and wear you down with their numbers."
Loth turns to Dol. "You think an army, even an army of orcs or goblins, would even think to attack Sandpoint?" He pauses for a while, thinking deeply. "I can't really think of any reasons anyone would be interested in attacking this town. It's kind of out of the way and doesn't hold any significant value either strategically or materially.
Then again," he admits, "I'm not exactly a military mind."
Loth looks at the square a little more intently after his brief conversation.
"Huh... Now that I think about it, Lonjiku Kaijitsu isn't here. That's odd."
Bumbo seems more than slightly taken aback by the talk of siege, invasion, and the conquest of some of the more brutal races. Even as his eyes widen in concern, Toot leaps to his feet, and spins about excitedly, like a dog trying to catch its tail. Sounds good, good! Where can we find such creatures? Come, little one, battle awaits!
No, no...Toot, now listen, they're talking about a hypothetical battle... He looks to Dol worriedly, then nods. ...yeah, not one that's happening now or anything. Don't worry, we'll find you a good fight, but now's not the time. Now, are you going to behave?
The swine seems to consider just how far he could push this boundary, but in the end snorts and, as if it were his idea all along, lay back down. Yes, yes...you'll find us a fine battle after the talking...I am sure you will, little one.
At the mention of the missing fellow, Bumbo looks around...not that he had any clue what the man would look like.
Still trying to comprehend the idea, Mizzug presses "But if yas wanten ter protect yer home, should not fight in it. Should fight in fields away from homes. Then ya kin sees dem coming and theys has fighten chance to see you too."
Glancing towards the scottish pig, she smiles. "You been in many fights dinner? Yous a warrior of standing? I sees ya has a marking youself too. To which tribe you hale?"
"Yes. The glasswright. He is notably absent, and him a central figure in the town. Perhaps he is ill...or late?" Aventail offers, a little more perturbed now Loth has voiced her own concern.
As Mayor Devrin's speech winds down, she looks to the Scarnetti man to give his. After he waves her off, Father Zantus steps forward instead. His speech is short and to the point. And some of you quickly realize that it is more of a prayer to Desna than an actual speech. Some of the acolytes from the church began moving towards the wagons when he began, and he gestures to them when he finishes. "Desna has long been my guide. Though tragedy comes, there is always a path to follow. This new cathedral, this town, and these people, be blessed by the goddess of stars and dreams." At this point, the tarps are torn back and hundreds of swallowtail butterflies immediately take flight into the noon sun. The light streaming down sparkles off their wings, throwing shimmering spots of silver over the crowd, as if it were raining molten metal. The crowd goes into a complete hush at the sight. Some consider the work it must have taken to corral so many butterflies together just for this. Most just enjoy the beautiful sight in silence, sure that they'll not see anything like it again in this life.
And in this silence, a single sound breaks. The obviously pained welp of a dog. All eyes turn towards the sound of an injured dog limp its way around the well on the west side of the town square. No one is sure what to do, and in that mere second of hesitation, a new sound is heard, rising as more voices seem to join from all around you.
T+tE- . Gr crt&{ A'\P GpEJWI'tJ ms
-- c� A'\P ;;AP :At\P GpEJW 11tE-$ f?QMT_
'{ EAr$(
�$ Ec GpBW�Mf
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 bash the head
goblins here and you be dead!
As this song begins to rise, a goblin steps into view from behind the well. His short sword is stained red with blood. Quickly, another joins him. From the south, two more. From the north, 4. Sheriff Balor quickly draws his sword and jumps down to attack the four in the north, the blonde Scarnetti man throws a dagger at one as he does so. Mayor Devrine moves to the other side of the stage and Father Zantus just looks shocked. The townspeople , but mill about, uncertain what to do.
Goblins have invaded Sandpoint, putting the town and its people in danger. How will you respond?
This is for you to know if you hit or not. If one goes down after a hit. Etc.
Goblin AC: 16; Touch: 13; Flat Footed: 14
HP: 7
One of the creatures charges at Bumbo, waving his dog slicer in the air and yelling nonsensical sounds of battle. He hits, doing 2 points of damage, and laughs manically at the look of pain he sees you make. He seems oblivious to everything except the bloodlust in his eyes.
The one that went after the dog that cued you all in goes after it again, scoring its flank but failing to land a killing blow. Two to the south race in, slashing at a villager who manages to throw them self to the side, avoiding the blades. All four sing the goblin song loudly, and you all can hear what sounds like more goblins in other parts of town also singing.
Bumbo grimaces as he watches Toot's reaction. The pig, however, seems to find humor in the name.
Ha! Dinner! Many have tried to make me so; I assure you I am not for eating! My mark matches young Bumbo's, we are our own tribe of powerful warriors! The pig looks to Bumbo and hangs his head a bit in a very human expression. Well, he tries...
Are you a proud warrior too, then? Perhaps some day we will have a great battle, you and I!
"Gods damn it, a goblin invasion?! Dol, I stand corrected!"
Loth, hardly accustomed to combat at all, fumbles with his gear until he finally draws a dagger, making sure it wasn't the one he won from the game. When he looks up, however, he can't find any clear path towards any goblin and idles a little.
At that point, another wisdom of Dol's enters his mind:
Be prepared for surprises.
Life among the Quah serves Raz well, and he rushes north to the foot of the stairs to the stage, fire dances across his hands and he moves. He thinks about trapping the group behind the stage but that would doom the man in range of their blades.
he turns and fires a bolt of fire at the goblin attacking the dog.
The bolt flies wide of the mark.
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Seeing the unarmed villagers being attacked by a pair of goblins, Dol springs into action, moving 20ft directly south, yelling out as he does so.
"Rally Citizens! Find yourselves some weapons or fall back to the cathedral for safety!"
Then, in Goblin he calls out to distract them from the villagers.
At the end of his movement, he flings his hand and a blob of acid goes flying at the goblin who attacked the villager.
Bumbo gasps in pain as he grabs the wound and tries to staunch the flow of blood. His vision blurs slightly, as he's unused to taking damage - usually he sits back and lets Toot do his thing.
To that effect, Bumbo steps to the south, making room for Toot to step into his place and attack the goblin that had stung him. As he moves, he sees the dog under attack. Nooooo! Almost instinctively, he reaches out with his magic, hoping to cloud the mind of the goblin attacking it.
Toot roars out in delight at the challenge. Yes! A challenge has been issued, I accept!
Excitement lights up her eyes as Mizzug sees the treat. "Oh, funs time now! HEY! No! You no can hit unnarms!"
The woman's facial features suddenly begin to elongate as her teeth grown longer. Within seconds, a snout full of serrated teeth sticks out from her face as she rushes to help Dol.
Drawing her massive warmhammer on the way, she bites at the first goblin she comes too.