It is a hot day. Tomorrow is the Swallowtail festival, which means that today is the last day of summer. Despite the heat, people are all out on the streets decorating the friendly town of Sandpoint with many colors to honor Desna the best way possible.
The Swallowtail festival is held in the first day of autumn throughout Golarion to commemorate the legend that an avatar of Desna fell to Golarion after a battle with the evil god Rovagug. According to the legend, a blind child nursed her back to health so Desna blessed the child by turning her into an immortal swallowtail butterfly to travel the world.
Children laugh and paint houses and, much to their mothers' dismay, their clothes. Larz Rovanky, the town's perfectionist tanner, tries to instruct the children and even some adults how to get the perfect lines of the butterfly drawings. Arika and Aneka Avertin work hard to get everyone fed with the pastries they made with their mother, but it seems that there are more people than buns. The spirits are high. Even the usually sad wheelwright Bilivar Wheen laughs at the occasional joke. Three ships can be seen in the docks with another arriving.
Tomorrow's festival means something more for the people in Sandpoint. It marks the inauguration of the new Sandpoint cathedral, after the old one burned down during a time locally known as the Late Unpleasantness 5 years ago.
The Late Unpleasantness was a period 5 years ago when terrible things happened. It started when a series of many murders happened over a month, where the killer was nicknamed the Chopper. One month after they stopped, a terrible fire struck the town's cathedral, also consuming a few other buildings nearby. The town's beloved priest, Father Ezakien Tobyn and his beautiful adopted daughter Nualia were killed in the fire.
The murderer was a formerly beloved man named Jervis Stoot. He was known for making beautiful bird sculptures out of wood throughout the town. No one knows why he did the killings. Each victim was found in the same terrible state: body bearing deep cuts to the neck and torso, hands and feet severed and stacked nearby, and the eyes and tongue missing entirely, having been plucked crudely from each head.
His last victim was the former sheriff, Casp Avertin who found him as he was working on a victim. The guard followed the trail of blood to his house on a small isle north of the town. There they found him dead, a pile of the 25 victims' eyes and tongues along with his on an altar to a demon lord of winged creatures and temptation. His house and body were burned and the town collectively removed his sculptures.
WELCOME TO SANDPOINT: "Please stop to see yourself as we see you" the old wooden sign reads, framing a crude hexagonal mirror. It reflects the face of a stern young woman with a shaved head, who scrutinizes herself in its surface, humoring the town's quaint greeting.
Around her left eye is a broken circle of small tattooed runes, with a larger, more prominent one centered in its gap, resembling a hand holding a gem up to the light. She gives a smirk as she turns away and begins making her way into the town proper.
She strides into Sandpoint with the confidence of a noblewoman, but her plain yellow robes, trimmed in blues and sea-greens, betray her much more humble status. She uses an old whaling spear like a walking stick, its rope tied around her wrist, and the book hanging on her belt, bound in waterproof leather, indicates to all that a wizard walks among them.
Donimah Southlander looks about the bustling town, noting the rising decorations and general atmosphere of excitement and mirth.
"Won't be getting any business done today, then," she thinks to herself. "But that will give me a chance to get my lodgings set up and maybe get to know some of my future neighbors. I will be here for a while, after all."
After inquiring around about the local inns, she begins making her way to The White Deer. She needed to make the coin she'd brought with her last, after all, if she was to study the traces of ancient Thassilon the town might be hiding.
As is his habit, Zeldrith rises early, having arrived in town the previous night with the merchant caravan. Making his way down to the common room of the White Deer, he finds it largely empty, save for a handful of farmers from the outlying homesteads. He takes a seat at the bar near one of said locals, humming to himself between bites of a simple breakfast.
After a few moments of relative silence, he speaks to the other man, extending a seven-fingered hand in greeting. "Seems like it's going to be quite the festival, friend. Name's Zeldrith - it's nice to meet you." The other man takes his hand after a moment's hesitation. "Rogors Craesby. You in town for the new cathedral?" The tiefling's brow furrows, and he turns his eerie gaze on the farmhand. "New cathedral? What was wrong with the old one?" The old man pushes his meal to one side and assumes the vaguely self-important posture of one who knows something his audience does not. "You're new in town, son - let me tell you about the Late Unpleasantness..."
Perhaps the strangest figure in the White Deer's common room is the young man reading in a dark corner of the room. From the waist up, he could pass for a Varisian at a glance - below the waist, the hooves in place of his feet and the long tail idly lashing back and forth as he reads make it clear why he is alone at his table. As he turns the pages of his book, he hums idly to himself, the simple tune occasionally interspersed with snippets of verse. "...the seas rise and the skies fall...song of my soul, my voice is dead...'till once more, the light blooms again..."
In sharp contrast with Donimah's robes, his clothes are that of a mercenary, the worn cloth vest and jacket of a peasant layered over a mail shirt, with a large, floppy hat covering the vaguely tangled mess of his black hair. Likewise, his manners are decidedly more coarse than those of the Shoanti mage - he slouches in his chair, and his hooves are propped up on the table in front of him as he reads. In addition to his mercenary gear, a metal amulet of Desna's wings hangs from his neck on a simple cord. His right eye is a solid black, like onyx, while its twin seems to burn with a lambent red light, and the left side of his face is prominently tattooed with an angular Thassilonian character.
However, a pouch labeled with arcane sigils shares his belt with his sheathed sword, and he leafs through a book not dissimilar to Donimah's own - unlikely as it would seem at first glance, this man appears to be her brother in the arcane, at least to some extent.
"It's still hard to believe the new Cathedral opens tomorrow. What a grand building! Even better is the festival! We didn't have festivals in Belkzen at least not like the Swallowtail Festival. Even though it's a celebration of Desna I'll make extra devotions to Cayden Cailean."
Arrian's attempts at talking with local Sandpointers does not go well - as usual. The awkward half-orc with the strange scars is often avoided or ignored by many. Sighing deeply he spends some of his precious free time at a local hangout other than The Hagfish - the White Deer. When Arrian enters the room he notices a table with one man and Arrian goes and sits at the same table. Perhaps it's a case of misfits stick together but Arrian feels a bit more at ease with those who don't neatly 'fit in' like the 'regular' people of Sandpoint. That's also why he doesn't carry any of his weapons; it seems to unsettle people even more. He wears his armor, carries his shield, and his trusty dagger. Although his size gives him an imposing presence he tries to 'be smaller' - hoping to not further startle anyone. He tries to avoid eye contact which unfortunately has the opposite of his intention: he looks even less trustworthy, maybe even sneaky.
"Hey Zeldrith, how are you today? Anything fun and exciting happen? Any big plans for the Swallowtail Festival tomorrow? Hopefully you're going to attend the grand opening of the Sandpoint Cathedral!"
Alright, let's just start a batch of Thunderstones for the day, then you can enjoy the festival, Juriya thinks to herself. Her daily job was helping out the family alchemy business. They didn't do any kind of research, but they did produce a fair bit of alchemical weapons and tools. Given no-one but her own family can see her here, she is in her natural, humanoid fox (i.e. kitsune) form. Staying in one form for too long always made her a little stir-crazy, for some odd reason.
"Alright... 7 doses of saltpeter... 15 doses of silver," she says as she starts measuring out the reagents in her family's home. Once the reagents are measured, she goes to the alchemist's lab set up by the window. Once she puts the flasks containing the saltpeter and silver out to digest in the direct sunlight, she goes to head out the door. She opens the door, takes a few steps outside... and then regrets it, and rushes back inside while swearing quietly in Minkaian.
"For DAIKITSU'S SAKE," she mumbles as she rushes back inside. She forgot to change into the human form, AGAIN. Juriya may have a way with words and logic, but her common sense is severely lacking at times. Right now... was one of those times. After spending the 5 or so seconds it takes to switch from one of her three forms to another, she then finally heads outside.
She goes to grab a pastry from the Avertins, gracious for the good food they make, and glad that she made it early enough before they ran out. She bows and says her thanks, a custom her family had ingrained in her for some odd reason. She sits outside, watching the children paint their own shirts and chuckling. She tries to keep her crossbow and rapier stowed and sheathed, and remain as unobtrusive as possible. Ever since the adventuring incident... she hasn't left home without them.
"Should probably check on the Rusty Dragon Inn, see the new faces here for the festival, if there are any," she muses to herself while munching on a very-enjoyable pastry.
The White Dear inn is a three stories tall with a stone first floor and wooden upper ones. The inn is clearly spacious, and the rooms are clearly being used due to the festival tomorrow. The farmer Craesby is clearly drunk as he answers Zeldrith's questions, being so willing to part with such delicate information. He completes trying to whisper "You see, this building got burned down in the fire too. A wonder what they did to it after isn't it?" Without waiting for an answer, he eyes Zeldrith sideways and asks "Are you a horse?" looking more amused than angry.
Upon entering, Donimah immediately recognizes the man behind the counter as Shoanti as well. By examining his tattoos and the decoration in the inn, he seems to be from Shriikirri-Quah, the hawk clan, known for their animal affinity. He looks to be mumbling something as he is going towards the reading man in the corner when he notices the mage's entrance. He pauses for a moment and it seems that he is lightening up. Just as quickly, he makes an angry face and resumes walking towards Zeldrith, ignoring Donimah completely. He asks the man "Table is for eating, keep it clean.", clearly gesturing towards his would-be feet. He finishes "What you having hell-spawn?" Craesby seems unimpressed by the man's attitude and says "He'll be having the next round with me!" Just then, he notices a big half-orc sitting at the table and says "And another for my new friend over there too!"
As the conversation plays out, an older woman comes quickly towards Donimah and says "Please, come here, have a seat. You seem to have just arrived, what can I get you? Maybe some ale? We just got a dwarven cask that came from the docks."
Juriya's interaction with the Avertin girls is more colorful than usual. While Aneka returns her greeting with a smile, Arika tries to copy the alchemist's bow. Juriya doesn't notice that Arika is mocking her, but she does see Aneka elbowing her sister somewhat angrily. Aneka was about to ask Juriya something, but a group of farmer children come running wanting to get some of the goods while they're still warm. As the kitsune sits, she sees the town filling with people. Some complain about the heat, saying things like "This summer is stubborn like my grandpa!" and "We'll be missing this heat during the winter." She eventually makes her way to the Rusty Dragon Inn. If the streets were full, this place is fuller. There are no places left to sit and all types of people are here eating and drinking. They will soon be singing. The sweaty smell of the road can be felt, intensified by the heat.
Arrian's eyes narrow when Zeldrith is called "hell-spawn" but he doesn't say anything, not wanting to get thrown out of the White Deer.
Grinning sheepishly Arrian tells Craesby, "Thank you sir. My name is Arrian and I help out and live at The Hagfish."
Trying to recall what the topic on the street is he adds, "Some heat we're having hm? It's going to be a hot Swallowtail Festival."
"Oh boy I probably should've just stayed quiet..."
Pausing halfway down the stairs leading to the White Deer's upper rooms, the clearly Magnimarian (although definitely a Varisian in face) woman stares off into the distance.
Seeing the place where the Sandpoint Cathedral once stood was a bit...unnerving.
Perched posed upon her shoulder sits a colorful Raven that screams Varisian.
My dear. Folks will stare. Proceed.
Smiling politely, the young woman pats down her dress prior to gliding the remaining steps to the Common room.
Her mixed-matched blue and green eyes scan the room as she makes her way to the bar to place her breakfast order.
Persephone watches the interaction between those seated and those arriving for presumably the festival. Her eyes mark the self-loathing 1/2 Orc
Cayden Cailean. Fun.
and the at his very ease Tiefling with a sorrowful smile.
Persephone's smile falters for just a moment (Isabel pokes her) when the clearly a Shoanti Strides through the frontdoors.
Really, Persephone? That was a long time ago. Not every Shoanti is Anansi the Spider.
The Debutante dubiously digests the directional dictation with dereference.
Turning to the waiting barkeep, Persephone orders her breakfast and asks to have it delivered at that Table. She points at the one being accumulating disparaged and disapproved of folks....
Smiling and winking at him, the young woman glides across the room to present herself to this budding band of misfits.
Good morning. My name is Persephone. This colorful character is Isabel. We just newly arrived in Sandpoint for the festival.
The Magnimarian curties.
May the Resplendent Goddess of Fortune ever favor you.
Arrian blinks, several time, before blurting out, "Greetings Persephone, my name is Arrian."
Sharing with everyone at the table he continues, "The Goddess of Fortune is Desna in case you didn't know."
He seems proud to know things and let others he knows things and isn't just a violent half-orc...without realizing most in Sandpoint probably know about Desna...
"Hey Zeldrith, how are you today? Anything fun and exciting happen? Any big plans for the Swallowtail Festival tomorrow? Hopefully you're going to attend the grand opening of the Sandpoint Cathedral!"
As the half-orc approaches, Zeldrith lowers his book, turning his eerie gaze up at the new arrival. He gives the man a blank look for a second, trying to place him, before his face splits in a grin, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. "...I know you - from the caravan, right? Arten, wasn't it?" He nods in greeting. "Like I said the other day, though, my friends call me Zel. And no, I didn't know about the festival when I came here - it just worked out that way. Desna's luck, I suppose." As the conversation shifts to the unnatural heat, he shrugs. "Can't say I much noticed - I've always handled the heat well. Still, it'll be a day to watch out for fires, for sure. Even a little campfire could burn down half a forest, the way the weather is."
"Table is for eating, keep it clean. What are you having, hell-spawn?"
The grin freezes on Zeldrith's face, and he takes his hooves off the table. "Sure, wear out my name, why don't you?" He nods gratefully as the old farmer orders a drink for him, but he shoots a glare at the innkeeper as the Shoanti man walks away, muttering singularly foul imprecations in the guttural demon tongue. "Well, bēl lemutei to you too, pal."
"Good morning. My name is Persephone. This colorful character is Isabel. We just newly arrived in Sandpoint for the festival. May the Resplendent Goddess of Fortune ever favor you."
The young man looks up as the new arrival approaches the table, extending a seven-fingered hand in greeting. "Zeldrith Angothane, but my friends call me Zel. You from Magnimar, Miss? I'm from Rag's End myself, though from the cut of your clothes I imagine you're from a far wealthier district." At the mention of the 'Goddess of Fortune,' his grin widens, and he indicates the silver butterfly amulet around his neck. "You're Desnan? My grandmother Tilara was a priestess - this amulet was hers. It's good to meet a sister in faith."
Persephone smiles at Zeldrith's comments n her attire.
I actually spent some years surviving in Underbridge District. Isabel here has educated me on appearances do not need be dependent on environmental impact.
The colorful Raven nods in agreement.
Smiling at the sight of the Tieflings amulet, Persephone indicates the Raven.
Isabel is a spirit sent by Desna to guide me. I am most fortunate.
She winks.
"Hey Zeldrith, how are you today? Anything fun and exciting happen? Any big plans for the Swallowtail Festival tomorrow? Hopefully you're going to attend the grand opening of the Sandpoint Cathedral!"As the half-orc approaches, Zeldrith lowers his book, turning his eerie gaze up at the new arrival. He gives the man a blank look for a second, trying to place him, before his face splits in a grin, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. "...I know you - from the caravan, right? Arten, wasn't it?" He nods in greeting. "Like I said the other day, though, my friends call me Zel. And no, I didn't know about the festival when I came here - it just worked out that way. Desna's luck, I suppose." As the conversation shifts to the unnatural heat, he shrugs. "Can't say I much noticed - I've always handled the heat well. Still, it'll be a day to watch out for fires, for sure. Even a little campfire could burn down half a forest, the way the weather is."
Arrian smiles in surprise, "You're close Zel my name is Arrian. I'm used to the heat too it doesn't bother me as much as some folks."
Upon entering, Donimah immediately recognizes the man behind the counter as Shoanti as well. By examining his tattoos and the decoration in the inn, he seems to be from Shriikirri-Quah, the hawk clan, known for their animal affinity. He looks to be mumbling something as he is going towards the reading man in the corner when he notices the mage's entrance. He pauses for a moment and it seems that he is lightening up. Just as quickly, he makes an angry face and resumes walking towards Zeldrith, ignoring Donimah completely. He asks the man "Table is for eating, keep it clean.", clearly gesturing towards his would-be feet. He finishes "What you having hell-spawn?" Craesby seems unimpressed by the man's attitude and says "He'll be having the next round with me!" Just then, he notices a big half-orc sitting at the table and says "And another for my new friend over there too!"
As the conversation plays out, an older woman comes quickly towards Donimah and says "Please, come here, have a seat. You seem to have just arrived, what can I get you? Maybe some ale? We just got a dwarven cask that came from the docks."
Donimah's eyebrow rises upon noticing the moment of shared recognition between her and the apparent proprietor, before noticing the rune on the face of the tiefling he seems upset with, piquing her curiosity even more. She turns to the woman offering her a seat, accepting silently.
"I would speak with the proprietor when they have time, please. I'm seeking lodgings for an extended period of time here in Sandpoint."
She looks over to the eclectic group forming nearby. It'd be rude to join in without an invitation, even as she can sense the sparks of power within them, especially the spiritual presence of the raven.
"Locals or new arrivals like myself?" she asks the older woman. "This town may be more cosmopolitan than I expected."
"I actually spent some years surviving in Underbridge District. Isabel here has educated me on appearances do not need be dependent on environmental impact."
Zeldrith's eyes light up at Persephone's words. "Underbridge? We're practically neighbors, then! Plenty of my friends still live there, and I've certainly ended more than one night unconscious under a table at Omar's Tavern." He pats the hilt of the longsword at his side. "Matter of fact, I got this blade there - won it off a smuggler in a game of dice. Tell me, is Old Vasilescu still alive? The old soldier from Ustalav? He always used to tell us kids stories from when he was a boy, when he fought in the armies of Count Neska."
His mirth diminishes, however, when he notices the Shoanti woman staring at him from a nearby table - he self-consciously looks away, glancing skeptically at the mage out of the corner of his eye. He elbows Arrian and nods towards the staring woman. "It seems we've drawn some unwanted attention, friend." He scowls. "Probably heard some stories about 'demonspawn,' worried we're going to eat her or something. I'm sure you've seen it plenty of times. Best to keep our heads down, or we'll be leaving town three steps ahead of a mob."
Noticing that she's been noticed, Donimah rises and approaches.
"You need not fear, stranger," she says in a cool contralto voice. "I was merely intrigued by the mark you wear. The rune of good fortune. Few bear the marks of ancient Thassilon so proudly, and I wondered if I had stumbled upon a kindred spirit."
She smirks a bit at his self-consciousness.
Arrian was going to respond to Zel but stopped when he saw the Shoanti woman rise and walk towards them. Eyes widening as she speaks Arrian hopes that an introduction might calm Zel - and the situation?
"Good day to you miss, my name is Arrian. You are Shoanti? A few years ago I was transported by a Shoanti caravan here to Sandpoint. Are you here for the Swallowtail Festival?"
Shell Street is not exactly the location in Sandpoint where one would expect the unexpected. But every now and then the townsfolk are surprised-some pleasantly so, others not so much. As once again, a silver blur dashed out of the street towards the Curious Goblin, a catfolk with purple spots, followed by a cardinal flying as fast as he can.
“Cherry! Why didn’t you tell me today was the return-the-book day?!” the catfolk, Ano Clovermark, yelled as she dodged around passerbyers.
“Hey, it's not my responsibility to remind you! I'm your familiar, not your calendar!” the bird called out in annoyance, “You’re going to crash into someone! A book a couple hours late isn’t worth brusing! SLOW DOWN!!!”
Of course there was no convincing the catfolk to slow down; Ano had a sacred duty to keep her reputation of never returning a borrowed book late, and she certainly wasn’t going to let today be the day that bad reputation starts.
"You need not fear, stranger, I was merely intrigued by the mark you wear. The rune of good fortune. Few bear the marks of ancient Thassilon so proudly, and I wondered if I had stumbled upon a kindred spirit."
As the Shoanti mage approaches, Zeldrith looks up warily, but as she speaks, his face splits in a grin composed of equal parts good nature and relief. "And I'm Zeldrith. Nice to meet you." He clears his throat, embarrassed. "Sorry, Miss - you know what these little towns are like." He grimaces and rubs his neck as an unpleasant memory rises to the forefront of his mind. "You stop at an inn for the night, a local kid gets a runny nose, an old cow dies, everybody points the finger at the 'out-of-town freak,' and all of the sudden, there's a noose waiting for you in Galduria." After a moment, he smiles again, nodding at one of the empty chairs at the table. "Still, none of that's your problem - if you're just looking to talk, I'd be happy to. There's certainly no shortage of room at this table here."
At the mention of the 'marks of ancient Thassilon,' however, his brow furrows, and the young warrior shakes his head. "Sorry - I don't know much about that scholar stuff. Tattoos like this were considered good luck in the mercenary company I once fought in, but I don't speak the language - don't know much about magic at all, in fact." He clears his throat again, clearly ashamed at his ignorance. "I-I mean, I know a few tricks, but my magic's in the blood, see, not books like yours."
Arrian was going to respond to Zel but stopped when he saw the Shoanti woman rise and walk towards them. Eyes widening as she speaks Arrian hopes that an introduction might calm Zel - and the situation?
"Good day to you miss, my name is Arrian. You are Shoanti? A few years ago I was transported by a Shoanti caravan here to Sandpoint. Are you here for the Swallowtail Festival?"
"And mine is Donimah Southlander. I am Shoanti by blood, but my home is in Riddleport rather than under the open sky. I am here on business, but with this festival beginning I suspect that business will have to wait."
As the Shoanti mage approaches, Zeldrith looks up warily, but as she speaks, his face splits in a grin composed of equal parts good nature and relief. "And I'm Zeldrith. Nice to meet you." He clears his throat, embarrassed. "Sorry, Miss - you know what these little towns are like." He grimaces and rubs his neck as an unpleasant memory rises to the forefront of his mind. "You stop at an inn for the night, a local kid gets a runny nose, an old cow dies, everybody points the finger at the 'out-of-town freak,' and all of the sudden, there's a noose waiting for you in Galduria." After a moment, he smiles again, nodding at one of the empty chairs at the table. "Still, none of that's your problem - if you're just looking to talk, I'd be happy to. There's certainly no shortage of room at this table here."
At the mention of the 'marks of ancient Thassilon,' however, his brow furrows, and the young warrior shakes his head. "Sorry - I don't know much about that scholar stuff. Tattoos like this were considered good luck in the mercenary company I once fought in, but I don't speak the language - don't know much about magic at all, in fact." He clears his throat again, clearly ashamed at his ignorance. "I-I mean, I know a few tricks, but my magic's in the blood, see, not books like yours."
Donimah takes a seat and listens to Zeldrith, her face impassive, until he explains the provenance of his tattoo, and the corner of her mouth droops a little.
"Ah. A lucky dilettante, then. Your tattoo remains auspicious at least."
She pauses a moment.
"From what I heard of the conversation coming in you are new arrivals in Sandpoint as well? Depending on the cost of lodgings I may find myself in the market for...hired aid."
"And mine is Donimah Southlander. I am Shoanti by blood, but my home is in Riddleport rather than under the open sky. I am here on business, but with this festival beginning I suspect that business will have to wait." (...) "From what I heard of the conversation coming in you are new arrivals in Sandpoint as well? Depending on the cost of lodgings I may find myself in the market for...hired aid."Arrian was going to respond to Zel but stopped when he saw the Shoanti woman rise and walk towards them. Eyes widening as she speaks Arrian hopes that an introduction might calm Zel - and the situation?
"Good day to you miss, my name is Arrian. You are Shoanti? A few years ago I was transported by a Shoanti caravan here to Sandpoint. Are you here for the Swallowtail Festival?"
"Nice to meet you Donimah Southlander! I wondered because of your tattoos. I have tattoos too and also markings when my former tribe made me apprentice to the shaman. I actually live in Sandpoint now at The Hagfish. The owner, Jargie Quinn, took me in because he's a really nice guy. You should stop by there some time just don't take the challenge..."
Arrian shudders a bit.
She looks over to the eclectic group forming nearby. It'd be rude to join in without an invitation, even as she can sense the sparks of power within them, especially the spiritual presence of the raven.
The Raven, Isabel, turns her blue eyes to look at the Shoanti woman approaching their unexpected (?) budding company.
Only two more to collect, Mistress.
Persephone hears her mentor, but knows who Isabel is actually speaking to, the Shaman nods in agreement.
Persephone turns her mixed-matched ocean blue and emerald green eyes to land upon the Shoanti woman also. She smiles.
Welcome! I am Persephone. This is Isabel. We had only just arrived ourselves, although I do grow up here, I have been in Magnimar these pat 5 years. Perhaps, our esteemed host can put these two tables together?
The smiling Varisian glides over to the older woman to make the request. She then quickly comes back.
OH, My manners! This gentleman is Arrian.
The excited young woman places a hand on the 1/2 Orc's shoulder, as she uses her other to land on Zeldrith's shoulders.
This rugged gentleman is Zel. This is wonderful!
Persephone smiles at her budding Tribe.
"Ah. A lucky dilettante, then. Your tattoo remains auspicious at least."
After a moment of thought, Zeldrith nods. "I suppose I am lucky. I'm certainly not smart enough to be a mage, and my family's never had more than a few silvers to rub together at at time - certainly not the money to get me that sort of apprenticeship in any case. Blood magic's really the only way I was ever going to be anything more than a second-rate mercenary."
"From what I heard of the conversation coming in you are new arrivals in Sandpoint as well? Depending on the cost of lodgings I may find myself in the market for...hired aid."
The young man smiles, and wisps of smoke start to curl from the edges of his eyes. "You're in luck, then - I happen to be a sell-sword myself!" His smile falters. "Unfortunately, I also happen to be between jobs. Caravan Master Tolmar, fat lump of rat šaḫaršuppû that he is, fired me with a quarter of my pay owed as soon as we got to Sandpoint - said the Lost Coast Road was safe enough that he didn't need guards, goblins or no."
Juriya, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people present at the Rusty Dragon, decides to catch up with anyone that might be there later. She steps out of the Rusty Dragon, and then realizes something else she forgot to do. As soon as she can find a place where no one is watching her, she loads a bolt into her light crossbow before storing it back where it belongs. Really need to work on actually reloading that thing quicker, she tells herself in an internal Minkaian dialogue while heading to the White Deer instead. The owner isn't any friend, but Juriya would undoubtedly return to the Rusty Dragon when it was less crowded later, regardless.
Seeing a group of interesting people chatting at a table, she decides to join in. Whether this is a good idea or not, is a different story. Newcomers can be unpredictable at times, but hey! So can residents... she remembers the incidents that have happened here at Sandpoint over the last few years. She, after approaching the group, decides to speak up with a bit of what she's heard.
Upon hearing mentions of the dreaded Hagfish Challenge, Juriya immediately bolts over, as opposed to the leisurely walk she's been pacing towards the table at. She's had some experience with it herself. "Can confirm. Do not try it. I've been attempting to for a good few years... my family doesn't work with poisons so I figured I'd build up an immunity anyways! HA! That was a mistake!"
She then turns and replies to the magus, "Blood magic, hm? Some kind of sorcerer? I'm by no means lucky enough to have any kind of innate magic, just born into a family of local career alchemists." She is then struck by the tattoos of ancient Thassilon, but takes a few minutes to respond: "Some kind of archaeologists? Don't see Thassilonian runes often on bodies." She pauses to order a drink of some form of fruit juice, before responding, "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Juriya Arima, pleasure to meet you!", and then instinctively bows before catching herself and offers a handshake instead.
After triumphantly returning the book on time, she at first wanted to get some lunch at the Rusty Dragon...but decided against it the second she saw the crowd. Crowds don't worry her that much...but there's always the risk of running into someone who hates you in a crowd. And Ano always tried to make her day better by staying away from anyone who did not tolerate her high energy. Thus, she made the long trip north to the White Deer Inn, in spite of Cherry's complaints.
"You're really going to waste all that energy going to a different inn all because you might run into someone who doesn't like you? You have to stop avoiding that and learn to just ignore those people." Cherry chirped matter-of-factly, perched comfortably on the catfolk's shoulder.
She didn't say anything back; it's true that she should just ignore everything that was said to her. But she didn't want a repeat of...
Ano shook those thoughts out of her head as they arrived at the White Deer Inn. She took a deep breath and decided to behave this time-she knew the owner was sort of gruff and probably had no time for her energy, so this time she would make sure there was no reason to-
Her thought process was halted the second she saw a familiar face. "Juriya!" Ano exclaimed, racing over to the table uninvited, "I was worried I wasn't gonna see you until the festival! Oh, that reminds me, my Ama baked a pie for you but I forgot if you liked blueberry or not so-OW what the heck Cherry?!" The catfolk hissed as the cardinal pecked her hard on the head. He stared at the other members of the table...and that's when Ano realized she made a mistake.
"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to barge in and interrupt...whatever you were all talking about! Ano Clovermark, and the rude bird is Cherry."
"Ano! Nice to see a familiar face here. Yeah, blueberry's fine! Nice to see you as well, Cherry," Juriya replies, happy to finally see a familiar face. "Heh... don't worry, admittedly I also barged in. Heard them talking about the poison at Hagfish and had to join in the 'don't do it!' camp." She gags a little at remembering her few attempts at the dreaded challenge.
Ano's ears flattened at the mention of the Hagfish challenge. Cherry puffed up at that.
"Why do humanoids seem to do challenges that involve getting themselves killed? I've seen a seagull try to eat the hagfish and died from swallowing the sludge. I don't get it." The cardinal fluttered towards Juriya, settling down comfortably on the table next to her.
Ano observed the others, and noticed the tattoos on Zeldrith. "Oooh, tattoos! Are you an artist? Who gave you that? I wish I had tattoos but you can't tattoo on fur. Thankfully my spots are kind of like tattoos...maybe? I've gone back and forth on whether my spots count as tattoos or not."
At the abrupt appearance of the Minkaian woman, the Raven actually giggles!
Pardon my manners, but another has arrived!
Persephone smiles at the Minkaian woman.
Welcome, Juriya Arima. I am Persephone. This Raven is Isabel. Come join us.
The well dressed Varisian lady glides about the now doubled up tables, placing chairs about them for the new comers (including herself). Frowning as she counts the available seating, Persephone accounts for it by sliding yet a 6th chair at the table(s).
The Raven nods her approval.
...3...2...1..
Hmmm
Both Shaman and Familiar smile in delight at the entrance of Ano exclaimed, racing over to the table uninvited .
Have a seat dear. Breakfast is served.
And there was two serving girls approaching their newly made throng, each carrying a tray of delicious eggs (fried and poached), delicately burnt bacon and properly smoked sausage, along with spiced grilled salmon and plenty of fruits and citris beverages.
The welcoming spread is placed along the center of the tables, along with plates and forks and even a white linen napkin for each.
Persephone claps in delight.
Isabel clears her throat.
Everyone enjoy. Proper places, please.
At the mention of breakfast, Ano’s eyes turned to the plates, and her eyes dilated in excitement. “Is that bacon and salmon?” she asked rhetorically with a purr before helping herself.
Cherry fluttered over to Isabel in wonder. “Pardon me but I never thought I’d get the chance to converse with a fellow talking bird.” The cardinal spoke like he had met a clone of him; normally ravens unnerved him, more for their size difference, but he was fully willing to push past his fears if it means making friends with another magical avian.
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"Blood magic, hm? Some kind of sorcerer? I'm by no means lucky enough to have any kind of innate magic, just born into a family of local career alchemists. Some kind of archaeologists? Don't see Thassilonian runes often on bodies. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Juriya Arima, pleasure to meet you!"
Zeldrith takes the new arrival's hand, nodding in greeting. "Zeldrith Angothane. And no, I'm no scholar, simply a mercenary - this symbol was considered good fortune where I grew up, and I thought I'd need luck if I'm to make my living by the sword. As for the magic..." He snaps his fingers, and a spark of flame appears in the air above his hand for the briefest of instants. "...to tell you the truth, I don't really know. They say that my family is descended from kings of old, great mages who ruled the mountain folk far to the west. We're poor enough now, of course, but..."
His train of thought is interrupted as the new arrival bursts in, a seemingly nonstop stream of words flowing from both the cat-person and the bird accompanying her. The young pitborn looks at Ano blankly, clearly baffled. "...I-I'm sorry, what?"
As the food arrives, Zeldrith relaxes, though he does stare at the napkin in confusion for a moment. Before too long, however, he is eagerly eating the provided food, talking through mouthfuls of eggs and sausage. "Later today, I was going to check around town, see if I can find some work. I've got a strong back and a willing attitude, and there are plenty of ships in town for the festival - I could help unload cargo, try to make some money."
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The smiling Varisian glides over to the older woman to make the request. She then quickly comes back.
OH, My manners! This gentleman is Arrian.The excited young woman places a hand on the 1/2 Orc's shoulder, as she uses her other to land on Zeldrith's shoulders.
This rugged gentleman is Zel. This is wonderful!Persephone smiles at her budding Tribe.
Gulping, swallowing, tongue-tied at having been called a "gentleman" by such a beautiful woman Arrian sets to work moving whatever Persephone wants and wherever she wants it.
mumbling noises that sound like "Thank you" and something unintelligible...
"Blood magic, hm? Some kind of sorcerer? I'm by no means lucky enough to have any kind of innate magic, just born into a family of local career alchemists. Some kind of archaeologists? Don't see Thassilonian runes often on bodies. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Juriya Arima, pleasure to meet you!"Zeldrith takes the new arrival's hand, nodding in greeting. "Zeldrith Angothane. And no, I'm no scholar, simply a mercenary - this symbol was considered good fortune where I grew up, and I thought I'd need luck if I'm to make my living by the sword. As for the magic..." He snaps his fingers, and a spark of flame appears in the air above his hand for the briefest of instants. "...to tell you the truth, I don't really know. They say that my family is descended from kings of old, great mages who ruled the mountain folk far to the west. We're poor enough now, of course, but..."
"Wow you should tell that story at The Hagfish; Jargie might offer you a free drink or a few coins to hear it! He's always looking for stories about heroes and magic and long ago lore."
His train of thought is interrupted as the new arrival bursts in, a seemingly nonstop stream of words flowing from both the cat-person and the bird accompanying her. The young pitborn looks at Ano blankly, clearly baffled. "...I-I'm sorry, what?"
"Yeah they're usually in a rush. That's Ano and Cherry and that's Juriya. Ano, Cherry, and Juriya, this is Perspehone!"
You swear Arrian almost loses his breath as he says Persephone's name the way his voice trails off at the end.
As the food arrives, Zeldrith relaxes, though he does stare at the napkin in confusion for a moment. Before too long, however, he is eagerly eating the provided food, talking through mouthfuls of eggs and sausage. "Later today, I was going to check around town, see if I can find some work. I've got a strong back and a willing attitude, and there are plenty of ships in town for the festival - I could help unload cargo, try to make some money."
Arrian tries to delicately help himself, not wanting to appear voracious in front of company.
"Thank you very much Miss Persephone!"
"Wow, you should tell that story at The Hagfish; Jargie might offer you a free drink or a few coins to hear it! He's always looking for stories about heroes and magic and long ago lore."
Zeldrith raises his eyebrows. "If stories can fetch me coin, I'll be a rich man before long. Tell me, have you ever heard 'Death and the Merchant?' It's the tale of a shopkeeper who met Pharasma as She went about her duties during a plague in the city of Kavapesta, far to the north." He shrugs. "More of a philosophers' tale than anything else. Still, I know a great many of the tales of knights and heroes."
The young man grins, patting the book he had been reading with one hand. "My nephew Revek wants to be an explorer when he grows up, you see. Matter of fact, this book's a gift for him. Record of Truan Iolavai, it's called. Got it for cheap off a bookbinder I know - tales of dragons and giants, heroes and kings, all that." Zeldrith shakes his head, smirking. "What will those kids think of next? I know when I was a kid, all I wanted to be was a shepherd. Lying out there at night, with nothing for company but the sheep in the field, the stars in the sky, and the song in your heart - a life at peace." At this, he stops eating, a wistful look passing over his face as his mind strays to old dreams.
After a moment, he shakes his head and gets back to his meal. "You get older, you realize what the world's really like. You put aside dreams and aspirations, learn to make the best of what you've got. Still..." The young mercenary sighs. "...I suppose dreams never really die; they just get pushed to the side, waiting for the day when they're made real. Who knows? Perhaps someday, I'll get to live that life of peace..."
Juriya, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people present at the Rusty Dragon, decides to catch up with anyone that might be there later. She steps out of the Rusty Dragon, and then realizes something else she forgot to do. As soon as she can find a place where no one is watching her, she loads a bolt into her light crossbow before storing it back where it belongs. Really need to work on actually reloading that thing quicker, she tells herself in an internal Minkaian dialogue while heading to the White Deer instead. The owner isn't any friend, but Juriya would undoubtedly return to the Rusty Dragon when it was less crowded later, regardless.
Seeing a group of interesting people chatting at a table, she decides to join in. Whether this is a good idea or not, is a different story. Newcomers can be unpredictable at times, but hey! So can residents... she remembers the incidents that have happened here at Sandpoint over the last few years. She, after approaching the group, decides to speak up with a bit of what she's heard.
Upon hearing mentions of the dreaded Hagfish Challenge, Juriya immediately bolts over, as opposed to the leisurely walk she's been pacing towards the table at. She's had some experience with it herself. "Can confirm. Do not try it. I've been attempting to for a good few years... my family doesn't work with poisons so I figured I'd build up an immunity anyways! HA! That was a mistake!"
She then turns and replies to the magus, "Blood magic, hm? Some kind of sorcerer? I'm by no means lucky enough to have any kind of innate magic, just born into a family of local career alchemists." She is then struck by the tattoos of ancient Thassilon, but takes a few minutes to respond: "Some kind of archaeologists? Don't see Thassilonian runes often on bodies." She pauses to order a drink of some form of fruit juice, before responding, "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Juriya Arima, pleasure to meet you!", and then instinctively bows before catching herself and offers a handshake instead.
"Donimah Southlander, likewise," Donimah replies shaking Juriya's hand. "You are perceptive, Miss Arima. Archaeology is indeed the reason I'm here in Sandpoint. I've come all the way from Riddleport on behalf of the Order of Cyphers. My understanding is there are some prominent Thassilonian structures in and around the town, and even a local expert in one Brodert Quink."
After triumphantly returning the book on time, she at first wanted to get some lunch at the Rusty Dragon...but decided against it the second she saw the crowd. Crowds don't worry her that much...but there's always the risk of running into someone who hates you in a crowd. And Ano always tried to make her day better by staying away from anyone who did not tolerate her high energy. Thus, she made the long trip north to the White Deer Inn, in spite of Cherry's complaints.
"You're really going to waste all that energy going to a different inn all because you might run into someone who doesn't like you? You have to stop avoiding that and learn to just ignore those people." Cherry chirped matter-of-factly, perched comfortably on the catfolk's shoulder.
She didn't say anything back; it's true that she should just ignore everything that was said to her. But she didn't want a repeat of...
Ano shook those thoughts out of her head as they arrived at the White Deer Inn. She took a deep breath and decided to behave this time-she knew the owner was sort of gruff and probably had no time for her energy, so this time she would make sure there was no reason to-
Her thought process was halted the second she saw a familiar face. "Juriya!" Ano exclaimed, racing over to the table uninvited, "I was worried I wasn't gonna see you until the festival! Oh, that reminds me, my Ama baked a pie for you but I forgot if you liked blueberry or not so-OW what the heck Cherry?!" The catfolk hissed as the cardinal pecked her hard on the head. He stared at the other members of the table...and that's when Ano realized she made a mistake.
"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to barge in and interrupt...whatever you were all talking about! Ano Clovermark, and the rude bird is Cherry."
"This is quite the collection of people forming," Donimah comments. "Donimah Southlander. You're a local then, Miss Clovermark?"
Ano's ears flattened at the mention of the Hagfish challenge. Cherry puffed up at that.
"Why do humanoids seem to do challenges that involve getting themselves killed? I've seen a seagull try to eat the hagfish and died from swallowing the sludge. I don't get it." The cardinal fluttered towards Juriya, settling down comfortably on the table next to her.
Ano observed the others, and noticed the tattoos on Zeldrith. "Oooh, tattoos! Are you an artist? Who gave you that? I wish I had tattoos but you can't tattoo on fur. Thankfully my spots are kind of like tattoos...maybe? I've gone back and forth on whether my spots count as tattoos or not."
Donimah's eyes widen at the description of the Hagfish's challenge and she shudders a bit.
"I've encountered hagfish while swimming in the harbor when I was little. Flotsam diving. It was...not a pleasant experience. And this challenge requires you to...what, eat one? Live?"
On the subject of tattoos, she raises her sleeves and reveals the circle of runes around her eye aren't the only tattoos she has. Donark, the Shoanti symbol of The Long-Armed on one arm, an upturned anchor on the back, almost helmet-like, a Shadde-Quah depiction of the sea spiraling up the other arm.
At the abrupt appearance of the Minkaian woman, the Raven actually giggles!
Pardon my manners, but another has arrived!Persephone smiles at the Minkaian woman.
Welcome, Juriya Arima. I am Persephone. This Raven is Isabel. Come join us.The well dressed Varisian lady glides about the now doubled up tables, placing chairs about them for the new comers (including herself). Frowning as she counts the available seating, Persephone accounts for it by sliding yet a 6th chair at the table(s).
The Raven nods her approval.
...3...2...1..Hmmm
Both Shaman and Familiar smile in delight at the entrance of Ano exclaimed, racing over to the table
uninvited.
Have a seat dear. Breakfast is served.And there was two serving girls approaching their newly made throng, each carrying a tray of delicious eggs (fried and poached), delicately burnt bacon and properly smoked sausage, along with spiced grilled salmon and plenty of fruits and citris beverages.
The welcoming spread is placed along the center of the tables, along with plates and forks and even a white linen napkin for each.
Persephone claps in delight.
Isabel clears her throat.
Everyone enjoy. Proper places, please.
Donimah's detached expression vanishes like a cracked mask as she gapes at the breakfast spread Persephone has apparently arranged and gotten under her nose in the time they've been talking.
"How...how much did this cost?!" she manages to stammer.
"Wow, you should tell that story at The Hagfish; Jargie might offer you a free drink or a few coins to hear it! He's always looking for stories about heroes and magic and long ago lore."Zeldrith raises his eyebrows. "If stories can fetch me coin, I'll be a rich man before long. Tell me, have you ever heard 'Death and the Merchant?' It's the tale of a shopkeeper who met Pharasma as She went about her duties during a plague in the city of Kavapesta, far to the north." He shrugs. "More of a philosophers' tale than anything else. Still, I know a great many of the tales of knights and heroes."
The young man grins, patting the book he had been reading with one hand. "My nephew Revek wants to be an explorer when he grows up, you see. Matter of fact, this book's a gift for him. Record of Truan Iolavai, it's called. Got it for cheap off a bookbinder I know - tales of dragons and giants, heroes and kings, all that." Zeldrith shakes his head, smirking. "What will those kids think of next? I know when I was a kid, all I wanted to be was a shepherd. Lying out there at night, with nothing for company but the sheep in the field, the stars in the sky, and the song in your heart - a life at peace." At this, he stops eating, a wistful look passing over his face as his mind strays to old dreams.
After a moment, he shakes his head and gets back to his meal. "You get older, you realize what the world's really like. You put aside dreams and aspirations, learn to make the best of what you've got. Still..." The young mercenary sighs. "...I suppose dreams never really die; they just get pushed to the side, waiting for the day when they're made real. Who knows? Perhaps someday, I'll get to live that life of peace..."
Making the best of what you've got does not mean dreams and aspirations need be abandoned," Donimah replies matter of factly. "I clawed my way out of Riddleport's gutters to become what I am, my father gave everything he had to help me get into the Cypher Lodge as a student. Anything worth dreaming of is worth fighting for to make it real."
"Making the best of what you've got does not mean dreams and aspirations need be abandoned," Donimah replies matter of factly. "I clawed my way out of Riddleport's gutters to become what I am, my father gave everything he had to help me get into the Cypher Lodge as a student. Anything worth dreaming of is worth fighting for to make it real."
Arrian ponders Donimah's statement and says, "I don't think I've ever had the time for a dream or aspiration. Being faithful to the teachings of Cayden Cailean, a good person, and helping others would be my aspirations."
He smiles a bit revealing his tusks.
Persephone smiles warmly at her gathering Tribe. The Shaman grateful, offering her prayers to Desna, as she begins loading plates for those still hesitant.
At Domimah's innocent question of "How...how much did this cost?, the Varisian coughs.
That all depends upon us, I believe.
Isabel immediately begins discussing those things only proper and polite avians discus with Cherry...
...could you believe the feathers on that sparrow...
Any other day, such collection of people in a single table in the White Deer would be odd. However, the upcoming festivities has increased the attendance. Also, some people seem to be taking shelter from the heat in the cooler stone building. The more perceptive members of the group notice that the farmer Craesby is a little silent during this conversation and seems to leave the table with his drink and a pocket full of stuffed bacon stripes.
The woman replies to Donimah "You know, I'll just put you in a room. The proprietor has... something else to do. If you need anything, just call me, my name is Cynthia, I'll be glad to help you."
The same woman tries to get the Shianti man busy with something in the back. However, he does spot Donimah showcasing her tattoos, to which he shouts "You have nothing to be proud of there!" before being hurried away by Cynthia.
At some point during the group's merriment, you can spot someone looking a little shady quickly getting in, taking a good look at the patrons then stopping at your table. After a few moments they walk back out with some sort of resolve.
They seem to have been satisfied with seeing Zeldrith.
The day goes by and the excitement in the streets does not wain. Those staying in the White Deer for the night will be charged 1gp per night. The food and drinks that you had are considered part of the room, but if you don't stay here, it will cost 5sp per person.
During your sleep tonight, you have a troubling dream. You feel an intense rage for a few moments, followed by the vision of a soothing lone tree. A swallowtail butterfly sits on the tree and looking at it gives you calm. You wake up sweating from the intense summer's last day heat. You can't quite place it, but that rage is something you felt before.
With the help of your familiar, you manage to remember that you felt similar rage during a night little time before the Late Unpleasantness started. The part with the tree is new though.
The day of the festival is here! More people arrive to Sandpoint. The weather is still very warm, there is no wind, as if the sky is holding its breath for something to happen. The square before the church is close to the White Deer, but requires a little hike from the Rusty Dragon. People have amassed here to watch the welcoming speeches which will take place on a small platform that was raised for this purpose. First comes a Varisian woman, recognised as the mayor. She says "Welcome all! I hope you brought your favorite butterfly food to get one of them to land on you after the release!", which is met with warm chuckles. She continues "I know I'll have a taste from the different foods everywhere and I know I'll win Quink's challenge today!" and she's met with woo's and hurray's. "Even Larz Rovanky managed to get out of his tannery to stop working and attend today, so there must be good stuff coming!", she says, to which everyone laughs. Well, everyone but Larz....
She's cheered off stage and followed by a Shoanti man, that has striking similarity to the White Deer's proprietor, even though he doesn't show his roots as openly. He is much more serious than the mayor and says in a monotonous tone "Please be careful around the bonfire in the evening. Please, let us have a moment of silence in memory of those who lost their lives in the fire 5 years ago." He takes a quick look at the mayor with some compassion in his eyes. His speech was enough to bring down the excietement from before. He finally continues "There was supposed to be some words by our local nobleman, Lonjiku Kaijitsu, but... it seems he is ill suddenly and will not be attending the ceremony." A mumble starts between the people and some can hear "Figures..." or "And another news: it is hot today!".
Next bursts onto the platform a man with extravagant clothes, quickly recognised as Cyrdak Drokkus, the local showman. He says in a booming voice "Well that's ok, because we have the best Kaijitsu cooking us lunch don't we?" to which the crowd giggle and smile. He continues "Of course, this year's festival will be better than last year's because now we have a completed cathedral to give us some shade, right?" and the people laugh and clap. He says "I remember how hard it was to get money to build this thing, mayor Kendra asked me to go as far as Magnimar to raise funds!", a little overdramatically, which is met with good humor. He goes on with some more stories of how the town came up with the funds, although the story seem a little far-fetched, if not a little entertaining. He continues "Well, this was all thanks to me, of course! And to commmemorate, don't forget to check out my newest production. It's the full performance of 'The Harpy's Curse', and Avisera the harpy queen will be played by... Allishandra, the Magnimarian diva queen!". After people stop clapping, he finished "Now, there are some games to be found throughout town. Kendra has already spoiled one of them, and I'll tell you another hint. One man's trash is another man's treasure! Now good hunting!"
The people disperse, most wondering what games there are to uncover.
"Yeah they're usually in a rush. That's Ano and Cherry and that's Juriya. Ano, Cherry, and Juriya, this is Perspehone!"
You swear Arrian almost loses his breath as he says Persephone's name the way his voice trails off at the end.
"Hey Arrian!" Ano smiled, not realizing she had a bit of egg in her mouth, before clearing her throat, "Sorry. Nice to meet you Persephone!"
"This is quite the collection of people forming," Donimah comments. "Donimah Southlander. You're a local then, Miss Clovermark?"
Ano nodded, "Yeah I'm a local! At least I think so...I was technically born in Magnimar, but my family moved here when I was reeeaaally little, and I have no memories of Magnimar but many memories of here. So Sandpoint is my home!"
Isabel immediately begins discussing those things only proper and polite avians discus with Cherry...
...could you believe the feathers on that sparrow...
Cherry shook his little head. "Pompous little egomaniac, that sparrow is. Thinks it's the hottest bird around just cause it can flitter around."
Ano notices the shady person, but doesn't take much note. Could be a visitor judging which of the Inns is the better to stay at?
Later that night...
Ano woke up with a start from the nightmare. She noticed her spots were glowing a faint light blue...like she was preparing for a fight in her sleep. She got out of bed and looked out the window at the moon, more to soothe her nerves than anything else. Something about that nightmare...it felt so familiar...was it about her? No...it couldn't be...
During the day
Ano smiled the biggest smile she could at the speeches made by the prominent members of the town...although her smile faltered at the mention of Lonjiku. Then again, she was glad she wasn't going to bump into him today. After all the speeches, she headed off to find Juriya-she had to bring her to her mother's booth so she can get her blueberry pie!
At 1st level, a trickster relies on her intellect as much as her personality. She adds her Intelligence modifier on Bluff, Diplomacy, Disguise, and Sense Motive checks.
"Eh? Who was that looking at us?," Juriya gives a nudge to Ano to point at whoever it was, but by the time she does so, they're already gone. Once she heads to her family's residence, she decides to shift into her fox form to get a good night's rest curled up. It's too late to beg for food while in fox form, so she just immediately goes to sleep curled up in the smaller makeshift bed at the foot of the proper one.
The kitsune, now in her impeccable human guise, can be seen among the crowd, with the family's prepared butterfly food to get a few to land on her. Maybe I could shift forms and chase them... she thinks to herself during the moment of silence... before immediately deciding that that, logically, is a horrible idea. There are too many people around that would notice her form-switching, and the butterflies are deemed sacred to Desna. This would result in... not too great of an outcome!
The moment Lonjinku has been declared absent due to "sickness," Juriya can be heard as one of the people saying "figures." At the mention of Ameiko's cooking, however, she's practically licking her lips in mouth-watering excitement. Once the speech is over, however, she decides to go out investigating as to what these potential games could be. They change every so often, so she can never be too sure what they are one year to the next. She gladly looks forward to both Juriya's mother's blueberry pie, as well as whatever Ameiko cooks up.
Isabel whispers
Zeldrith, are you being hunted by anyone?
Persephone looks protective....
The day goes by and the excitement in the streets does not wain. Those staying in the White Deer for the night will be charged 1gp per night. The food and drinks that you had are considered part of the room, but if you don't stay here, it will cost 5sp per person.
Persephone pays gladly for each person's stay at the White Deer, along with prope meals at their leisure.
Both Shaman and Familiar continue to eat, talk laugh and listen as the day progresses.
That evening, she has the most vivid dreams of....
Persephone wakes the next morning and immediately begins to drill Isabel about her dreams!
With the help of your familiar, you manage to remember that you felt similar rage during a night little time before the Late Unpleasantness started. The part with the tree is new though.
Isabel preens.
Persephone makes a face at the colorful Raven, as she also begins to get ready for the days festivities.....
At 1st level, a trickster relies on her intellect as much as her personality. She adds her Intelligence modifier on Bluff, Diplomacy, Disguise, and Sense Motive checks.[dice=Perception DC 15, 20] d20 + 2
"Eh? Who was that looking at us?," Juriya gives a nudge to Ano to point at whoever it was, but by the time she does so, they're already gone. Once she heads to her family's residence, she decides to shift into her fox form to get a good night's rest curled up. It's too late to beg for food while in fox form, so she just immediately goes to sleep curled up in the smaller makeshift bed at the foot of the proper one.
The kitsune, now in her impeccable human guise, can be seen among the crowd, with the family's prepared butterfly food to get a few to land on her. Maybe I could shift forms and chase them... she thinks to herself during the moment of silence... before immediately deciding that that, logically, is a horrible idea. There are too many people around that would notice her form-switching, and the butterflies are deemed sacred to Desna. This would result in... not too great of an outcome!The moment Lonjinku has been declared absent due to "sickness," Juriya can be heard as one of the people saying "figures." At the mention of Ameiko's cooking, however, she's practically licking her lips in mouth-watering excitement. Once the speech is over, however, she decides to go out investigating as to what these potential games could be. They change every so often, so she can never be too sure what they are one year to the next. She gladly looks forward to both Juriya's mother's blueberry pie, as well as whatever Ameiko cooks up.
Correction: Ano's mother's blueberry pie
Panicked after hearing the cost of the meal, and relieved once he found out Persephone was covering the cost, Arrian notices the stranger and, instead of his usual 'shrinking', he sits upright and stretches his shoulders out while watching the shady-acting person.
"Thank you very much for the meal Miss Perspehone but I won't need the room; I have to get back to The Hagfish. As Jargie would say, 'Those dishes and floors aren't going to clean themselves Arrian!'"
Partially because he's a soft touch and also realizing no work would get done, Jargie allows Arrian time away from The Hagfish to attend the day's festivities. Something about "You young people just can't settle down and work. Why when I was your age..." But the rest of Jargie's speech is lost on him as Arrian displays his amazing speed by racing to the Cathedral to hear the speeches and is quite interested in the games. Perhaps he can win some prizes or coin to improve his fortunes and maybe buy a drink or two for his friends including the newest ones. He'd also like to buy one of Ano's mother's blueberry pies if he can win some coin. Not only do they taste wonderful but they leave the most humorous color when they spill onto his green skin.
Ano wandere around, smiling at the liveliness of the festival. She considers playing one of the games, but figures it would be better for the children and visitors to enjoy such fun. She heads over to the Rusty Dragon Inn, carrying a few different pies-one is for Juriya, and the others were orders made by Ameiko to give to the patrons tonight.
Cherry meanwhile fluttered along high in the air, taking in the sights of the town before fluttering back down to Ano. “Your aunt is doing well! Don’t forget to visit her after the festival.” he chirped, overflowing with happiness due to the festival.
As the shifty-looking stranger approaches, Zeldrith looks up, curious. "Help you, pal?" When the man leaves without a word, he shakes his head. "Probably some traveler curious about us." He glances around at the others at the table. "You have to admit, friends, few of us are exactly normal by this little town's standards."
"Zeldrith, are you being hunted by anyone?"
At the little raven's words, Zeldrith blanches, turning abruptly to look in the direction of the vanished stranger. Glancing around to ensure he is not overheard, he begins to whisper to the strange bird. "M-my family's shop was owned by the Sczarni - they were bleeding us dry! A few years back, I managed to get enough money together to buy the shop outright from them, give us our freedom. I told my father I won it gambling, but..." He sighs. "...I borrowed it from a man named Molatius Falco, a crime lord from Cheliax. If I'm being hunted, it's probably Falco trying to collect on my debt."
At the festival itself, Zeldrith seeks out familiar faces in the crowd, finding himself near Arrian. As the town dignitaries give their speeches, he politely nods along, clapping and cheering at all the appropriate points - though at the muttered exclamations from the crowd as the sheriff announces Lord Kaijitsu's absence, he furrows his brow. "I take it the local lord is an unpopular man?"
The young mercenary's face falls at the mention of The Harpy's Curse, and his hand strays to something in his pocket. As the group disperses to search for the various games, he turns to the half-orc with a smile on his face, his earlier melancholy apparently forgotten. "That Cydrak man said something about trash, correct? Is there a junk heap anywhere near here, by chance?" His smile falters as he thinks for a moment. "...On second thought, I might sit this one out. Back when I was a boy, my friends used to call me 'Bloodhound Zel' because of how good my nose was, and I don't particularly want to know what Sandpoint's junk heap smells like on a day this hot."
At Domimah's innocent question of "How...how much did this cost?, the Varisian coughs.
That all depends upon us, I believe.
Donimah frowns.
"You could have asked first, my funds are very limited until I can establish work here," she grouses.
Any other day, such collection of people in a single table in the White Deer would be odd. However, the upcoming festivities has increased the attendance. Also, some people seem to be taking shelter from the heat in the cooler stone building. The more perceptive members of the group notice that the farmer Craesby is a little silent during this conversation and seems to leave the table with his drink and a pocket full of stuffed bacon stripes.
The woman replies to Donimah "You know, I'll just put you in a room. The proprietor has... something else to do. If you need anything, just call me, my name is Cynthia, I'll be glad to help you."
The same woman tries to get the Shianti man busy with something in the back. However, he does spot Donimah showcasing her tattoos, to which he shouts "You have nothing to be proud of there!" before being hurried away by Cynthia.
Donimah's head snaps towards the man being ushered away.
"Excuse me?!" she asks, venom in her voice.
As she watches, she also notices the departing stranger who seemed to be watching Zeldrith. She turns back to him.
"Someone seems to have their eye on you, and it's probably someone who doesn't want you to get that peaceful life you speak of," she cautions him.
The next day, Donimah gathers herself up and joins the assembling crowd, seeking out the folks she met the day before.
"Good morning to you, I hope you won't object to my tagging along for the festivities."
She listens to the speech and notes the name given by the Mayor. Quink. The man she'd come to Sandpoint to meet with. And then at the mention of trash being treasure she smirks a bit.
"I'm no stranger to salvage. As a child I'd scavenge for flotsam on the harbor shores to find things to sell. Help make ends meet and stash some away for what would eventually become my tuition fee."
"I take it the local lord is an unpopular man?"
Upon hearing ill talk of Lonjiku, Juriya responds. "Depends on who you talk to. Talk to my family, you're only going to get praise. When you rely on their glassware for your business... getting along with the Kaijitsus is kind of a requirement. Ano, on the other hand, has a certain beef with him. For me? Just... a bit too strict with his family, from what I've heard and experience. Also, it just kind of tracks with his behavior to not show up to this."
Upon the mention of trash, Juriya also pipes up. "I believe there is one, yes! I often go there to scavenge for fun after I've helped with the family alchemy business for the day," but what she conveniently leaves out is that she does so as a tiny fox, bringing pieces back home by mouth in an attempt to satiate the need to be in all three forms equally.
"That Cydrak man said something about trash, correct? Is there a junk heap anywhere near here, by chance?" His smile falters as he thinks for a moment. "...On second thought, I might sit this one out. Back when I was a boy, my friends used to call me 'Bloodhound Zel' because of how good my nose was, and I don't particularly want to know what Sandpoint's junk heap smells like on a day this hot."
Arrian cheerfully greets Zel, Donimah, and the other new arrivals. He tells Zel, "But Cydrak said in the trash is 'another man's treasure' so it could be something worth some coin. Sad to say I'm down on my luck and could use any money I can find. If you're talented at finding stuff I'll help move the smelly stuff aside; believe me it's nothing worse than I've had to clean up mannnnnny times at The Hagfish."
"But Cydrak said in the trash is 'another man's treasure' so it could be something worth some coin. Sad to say I'm down on my luck and could use any money I can find. If you're talented at finding stuff I'll help move the smelly stuff aside; believe me it's nothing worse than I've had to clean up mannnnnny times at The Hagfish."
Zeldrith sighs, shaking his head. "I suppose you're right - we both need the coin. The neighborhood where I grew up was the 'trash heap' of Magnimar, so I'm sure it's no more foul than I've smelled before. Still, having hot needles jammed into your eyes once doesn't mean it's any more pleasant the second time."
Ano sat at a table at the Rusty Dragon Inn, thinking that the rest would meet her. Though she wasn’t certain, and thus had Cherry fly off to tell the others. Alone, she tried to enjoy the atmosphere, but her mind kept wandering back to some…rather dark days. Not just the Late Unpleasantness…
Cherry fluttered around, trying to scout out the group he and Ano met yesterday within the crowds.
He managed to spot them, and fluttered down to Juriya. “Apologies for interrupting the conversation, but Ano wanted you all to know she saved a table for you all at the Rusty Dragon. And with a pie or two to split between everyone.”
Upon walking through the town, it is easy to see that some games are not that hidden. There is tug-of-war near the lumber mill by the Turandarok river to the east, a balance beam contest set up between the garrison and the town hall and a sack race by the theater. They also quickly find that the prize for winning these games is a wooden coin. It clearly has no monetary value, but the contestants compete aggressively for it. In the tug-of-war, a pair of brother and sister farmers, the Silfids, are the current favorites. For the balance beam, a halfling girl called Mativ who is employed at Risa Magravi's tavern is the best one yet. For the sack race, it's a chubby half-orc academy teacher called Bumbo who has won the last round.
Even without the monetary value, the current winners seem to be gathering some respect from all aroudn the competition.
Juriya, upon entering the Rusty Dragon Inn, sees that Ameiko has set up a spice chopping competition by one of her tables. Only the fiercest blade wielders dare try their luck against the current champion, Ameiko's own maid, the halfling Bethana. Surprisingly, along with the wooden coin, Ameiko is offering a magical wand of Expeditious Retreat (number of charges is unrevealed).
Meanwhile, Arrian hears from a friend from the docks that there is a swim competition going on. For this, the wooden coin is offered along a potion of healing.
Donimah learns that Brodert Quink is doing a contest of wits. The current best place is mayor Deverin herself! He is giving away a scroll of invisibility to the winner along with the wooden coin.
Finally, those approaching Junker's edge to oversee the trash beach will see that Gorvi, the half-orc garbage collector has set up a greased up pole with what appears to be some trash on top of it. Whoever is able to collect it will win a small chest with 50 gold pieces in it, along with the gold coin. The one who came closest was the mill operator Banny Harker.
Tug-of-war: 2 participants. Both need to pass a Strength check DC 15.
Balance beam: Acrobatics DC 15
Sack race: Acrobatics DC 15
Ameiko's chopping: BAB + Dex + any bonus with a dagger. Roll 3 times, must defeat AC 14 every time.
Swimming competition: Your result is how many times you need to roll to pass Swim DC 15 3 times (no need to be consecutive). If you roll under 10 3 times before this, you're disqualified.
Contest of wits: 1 knowledge local DC 15, 1 knowledge nature DC 15 and 1 knowledge history DC 15
Greased up pole: Need to succeed Climb DC 15 3 times consecutively.
You notice that Gorvi is looking up the skirts of the women who try the climb.
You see no goblins on the trash beach. This is very unusual as there always are at least a few trying to salvage something there.