Eostre of the Crying Moon's page

"I'm afraid I don't really know any jokes, Scrivner - at least none that would translate well from Shoanti. As for philosophy, there's not a lot of time to spare for that up on the Storval Plateau." says Eostre in reply to the half-elf's comment, but she gives him a smile to indicate that she isn't trying to be grumpy. Otherwise she busies herself carrying Amieko's prepared food up to the cathedral square from The Rusty Dragon.

Just letting folks know that I'm still here too. I'm checking in every day, but at present I'm struggling to think up stuff to post - once stuff starts happening in game, and all the characters are together, hopefully I'll come up with something useful for Eostre to do. :p

Feeling relieved that someone in the town at least seems to have listened to her warning in earnest, Eostre returns Father Zantus' bow before leaving the cathedral herself. Since she's supposed to be helping serve lunch at The Rusty Dragon's festival stall, she head directly there and hurry up to where Ameiko, Awarthannen and any of the others are conversing. "I'm not late am I? What do you need me to be doing at the moment, Ameiko?"

"The shamans of my Sept sent me to your town, Father Zantus, but they did so in response to to signs and portents delivered unto them by the spirits." Eostre speaks earnestly to the priest, hoping to convince him of her sincerity even if he doesn't put any stock in Shoanti mysticism. "The auguries indicated that an unknown malevolence was brooding beneath the lands of the invaders - I'm sorry, but that is how many Shoanti still think of you Chelish folk - and that if it remained unopposed, it would spread to engulf all the peoples of Varisia."

She is watching carefully for any sign of reaction from Father Zantus, fearful that he will dismiss what she says out of hand, hopeful that he will actually listen. "The only other clue any shaman of the Skoan-Quah could elicit from the spirits was that this 'ancient sin' would first reveal itself where 'the gods rose anew in the shadow of the fallen light' on the autumnal equinox. My mistress thought that could mean Sandpoint, with your new cathedral - of which we had heard even in the Curchain Hills - and the Old Light which rises over your town."

Eostre pauses to take a deep breath, then looks the Chelish priest in the eye. "As you know, the autumnal equinox is today - when you townsfolk celebrate your new cathedral and the Swallowtail festival of the Starsong. I have no idea what - if anything - will happen, but I have now at least fulfilled my duty to the Sept to pass on a warning to you. I came a long way to tell you this, Father - please accept that we of the Skoan-Quah do not deal with outsiders lightly. We believe that there is a threat here of some kind."

After walking through the cathedral and reverently looking into the chapels dedicated to the various gods, Eostre approached the seven ancient standing stones around which the cathedral had been constructed. Although the priest was there by himself, she did not wish to interrupt his communion, since he was quite obviously in mid-prayer. Instead the young Shoanti woman settled down on the well-tended grass of the central courtyard, watching Zantus and waiting for him to finish his meditations.

Settling down into a lotus-like position, she did her best to clear the urgency from her own mind, filled as it was by worries over the portents of imminent evil which had brought her to Sandpoint. Controlling her breathing and stripping her thoughts of everything but her awareness of the present, Eostre composed herself and tried to recall the training which the shamans of the Skoan-Quah had rigorously inculcated into her. As she did so various small objects in her immediate vicinity began to stir in the grass - small pebbles, twigs, and such-like - moving into circular patterns, spiralling in towards the seated oracle.

Eventually the priest began to rise from where he knelt in front of one of the standing stones. Blinking and returning her mind from it's own place of repose, Eostre quietly cleared her throat to announce her presence behind him, carefully standing back up from where she had been sitting. "Father Zantus? My name is Eostre of the Skoan-Quah, a vessel and servant of the Mother of Souls. I realise that this is a busy day for you and the cathedral, but I would appreciate it greatly if you would spare me a few minutes of your time now. There is an urgent matter I must inform you of..."

Casting guidance on herself before speaking.

Diplomacy, getting Father Zantus to speak with her: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 8 + 1 = 29

I'm guessing that Eostre isn't able to find anyone or anything of interest in the cathedral given the lack of a GM response, so I guess she'll just be wandering the festival until the ceremony at this point.

Unable to locate the Sheriff in the crowd, Eostre instead makes her way towards the cathedral, intending to enter the building and find the priest named Zantus. The festival is in full swing, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, but the elders sent me here for a reason. I'll not let any snotty acolytes turn me away this time. In the noise and bustle no-one notices the lone Shoanti girl ascending the stairs and slipping in through the doors...

Unless someone moves to stop her Eostre intends to look around the new cathedral and attempt to find and speak with Father Zantus.

Still here by the way, just waiting for things to develop IG a bit at present. We haven't lost anyone, have we?

Smiling at the man running the beanbag toss, Eostre hands him a copper coin and picks up three goblin dolls from the buckets with her left hand. Instead of throwing them immediately, she mutters a brief prayer in Shoanti, then makes a gentle throwing motion with her right hand. The first goblin doll suddenly jerks upright in her palm, then scuttles through the air to the smallest and farthest hole before diving into it, followed by the other two beanbags in quick succession. The last goblin doll to go through spins in mid air and gestures rudely at the onlookers as it plunges in. Laughing and winking at the man, she gaily says "Of course I expect no prize, as I cheated. But in future don't imply that a woman - especially a Shoanti woman - isn't the equal of any man. I can do anything a male can, and often better! 'Medium hole for women'..." She shakes her finger semi-mockingly at him and then waves before going to find another distraction.

Using mage hand to drop the beanbags into the hole.

Arching an eyebrow at Scrivner's unexpected boyish enthusiasm for touring the stalls and activities at the fair, Eostre follows the half-elf into the crowd, taking up the mantle of willing - albeit not half as enthusiastic - participant in whatever events they find. The variety of goods, foods and drinks on offer is bewildering to the young Shoanti woman, and she will not be above trying to use her looks to cajole some of the merchants into letting her and Scrivner try 'free samples' of some of the tastier looking wares. There's still too many people here for my liking, but they certainly know good food and drink.

However the oracle still can't shake the firm belief that something is going to wrong in or near Sandpoint today, finding herself constantly worrying about what may be about to happen. After an hour or two of wandering around the fair, Eostre excuses herself from Scrivner, and starts looking around for the Shoanti sheriff who gave part of the opening speeches. Even if he's abandoned his Quah - whichever it was, and I'm not going to prejudge the paths the spirits may call another to follow - he may be willing to listen to me, unlike that stupid acolyte at the cathedral yesterday...

Perception, trying to locate the sheriff: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (10) + 0 = 10

If she can't locate the man herself, she'll ask any of the town guards or militia she finds where he is instead.

Diplomacy, requesting the whereabouts of the sheriff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Let me know if Eostre can find Sheriff Hemlock amidst the crowd, but with those skill rolls I doubt she will be able to.

By the by I like the slight tone of antagonism which is arising between the magus and the oracle from a roleplaying POV. For her part, Eostre will be treating anything Awarthannen says or does regarding her mysticism with amusement, as she is not just a 'true believer' but a walking embodiment of her goddess, so there is no possibility of doubt in her mind about the reality of omens, auguries and prophecies. Therefore whatever the magus says or does he will never shake her belief. That doesn't mean she won't have lots of doubts about what those said 'shamanic prophecies' may actually mean however...

Once back at the inn Eostre will get underway with whatever tasks Ameiko needs done to get the Rusty Dragon's contribution for the festival ready. Since it is a festival she will do her best to cut a presentable figure with the limited clothing and means available to her, but since there is also good reason - in her mind at least - to suspect that something will go wrong at some point, Eostre will keep her light mace and dagger handy and her leather armor on. Her holy symbol stays with her at all times of course, but the rest of her gear stays in her room at the inn.

And, lol regarding Eostre's reply to Awarthannen. I foresee a future filled with friendly antagonistic banter between the mystic and the skeptic. :)

It's even funnier from my POV - these days I'm a science grad student and a member of the Australian Skeptics Society. Yet I'm playing a true-believer religious mystic here... :)

Eostre responds to Awarthannen's skepticism with a mild reproof, the little smile on her face quivering with amusement. "If you don't wish to waste time on 'divine providence', then perhaps you are in the wrong place, master magus. You may deny the gods, but they do not deny you."

Arising out of the armchair, and carefully placing her half-finished mug of tea on the table, the Shoanti turns to Master Quink and nods politely. "Although I really would like to learn more about this Thassilon now, as I said a moment ago - today is the Swallowtail Festival - and I have agreed to help Mistress Ameiko at The Rusty Dragon with preparations. I must go. Thank you for your gracious hospitality, sir. I hope that we can continue the discussion later."

Looking to Scrivner and Arandor, she adds; "And if the 'shamanic prophecies' of the Skoan-Quah's speakers for the dead..." Eostre does a fair imitation of Awarthannen's dismissive tones "... are to be trusted, then we'd best be ready for something odd to happen today."

When Quink begins to discuss the seven ancient sins of Thassilonian magic, Eostre suddenly stirs herself out of the bored-yet-attentive pose in her chair, leaning forward and paying attention. Ancient sins? And these runelords built massive weapons of destruction. Is this why the spirits sent me to this sleepy little town? It must be...

"I am not a scholar, Master Quink, or even very clever when it comes to books and things, but I have a question, if I may?" says the Shoanti girl. "These seven sins and virtues in their magic, did they represent some sort of balance between good and evil, or at least their perception of it?"

She looks around at Arandor and continues. "Some mention divine providence in having a hand in gathering you scholars together here. More so than you may guess. The shamans of my clan sent me to this place due to certain auguries which clearly showed that a great and ancient sin was returning to the world, and that it would first begin stirring here - in Sandpoint - at the autumnal equinox. An evil which would grow and engulf not only the Shoanti but all the peoples of Varisia if left unopposed."

As the oracle speaks in the quiet but certain tones of a true believer, strands of her hair seem to stir, and the papers on the table near her ruffle, as if moved by a gentle breath of air. But there is no discernable draft in the room, and the windows are closed...

With a cold but wry little smile on her face, Eostre leans back in chair again. "Today is the Swallowtail Festival of the goddess Desna, and the day chosen to rededicate the fine new cathedral the town has built. It is also the autumnal equinox, and I sit here and listen to this talk of ancient magics and sins. To me, this is the sign I asked the Mother of Souls for this morning, to tell me that I am where I am supposed to be."

The bit about strands of hair and bits of paper moving slightly is just my effort to include her haunted curse. I'm sure our GM will be making Eostre regret being a haunted oracle at some future date, but for now I may as well use it for special, slightly spooky effects. :)

Although she accompanies the elvish trio into Quink's sitting room and accepts a mug of tea with thanks, Eostre quickly realises that she's out of her depth listening to the scholar and the others converse. They're sitting here calmly talking about events from over ten millennia ago about which they can know nothing for certain. It seems a futile exercise to me - I marvel at the kind of mind that can be fascinated with such fantasy. Nevertheless she tries to maintain a straight face and pay attention to the discussion, faintly hoping that something may crop up which is more obviously relevant to her own purpose in being in Sandpoint.

Depending upon what questions the other characters present ask Quink, Eostre may interject with a question or two at some point in the discussion, but since she's definitely not a scholar for now she'll sit, listen, and try to learn.

"Well then, if you don't mind, I may just accompany you. It can't hurt to learn more about this town." says Eostre, following the elvish trio up to the scholar's abode. And there's always a chance I'll learn something relevant to the 'Ancient evil' the shamans were nattering on about... if there's any such thing here at all.

"Who is this Quink? And why care so much about the old ruin here?" asks Eostre, quite obviously somewhat puzzled. "What I mean is that there are heaps of rubble, forgotten idols and abandoned dungeons all over Varisa. I just don't see anything particularly special about this one, but I'm willing to be educated on that point." She points over her shoulder towards the Old Light with her thumb as she speaks.

In response to the grey-skinned elf's greeting, she nods and introduces herself to Scrivner's companions. "Eostre of the Skoan-Quah, if that means anything to you. I'd take you for a bunch of scholars, if it wasn't for your arms and armor, Master Awarthannen. So are you all here to investigate the Old Light, not simply for the festival?"

To herself she thinks; Mother of souls, if this has anything to do with why the spirits brought me here, a hint would be nice right about now...?

Eostre walks around the foreshore area of Sandpoint, looking about at the stores and homes, nodding politely to the other people who are up and about this early in the morning, and trying to get a feel for the place. I'll admit that the town looks better by morning, and it's not as crowded - yet - as it was yesterday afternoon. But in a few hours it's going to be as hectic as full way-moot of the entire Quah here.

Seeing Scrivner and the two elves from the inn last making their way along the street, she steps over and calls to him. "Good morning, Scrivner. Where are you and your two companions heading this early in the day? Some sort of secret elvish business?" Eostre takes the opportunity to scrutinize the trio, since she didn't pay all that much attention to them the previous evening.

Eostre rises with the sun as usual and after washing and dressing makes her way down to the common room. She leaves her pack and shield in the room, but dons her armor and takes her weapons and valuables with her. Asking the halfling woman for some bread or porridge and something hot to drink, Eostre will consume her breakfast and then go for a brief walk along the docks, before returning to the Rusty Dragon in time to begin work for the day.

"'Animalistic'? I should find such a comment offensive." sniffs the Shoanti woman. "Then again, you Chelish have strange customs yourselves, ones I find totally bizarre. But we could compare cultures all evening and reach no agreement." Eostre looks down at her stained and dusty clothing, and sniffs again, this time in distaste. "Besides there's no doubt I'm in need of a good wash. I must smell as badly as any wild animal right now."

Waving off the offer of his unwanted ale, Eostre stands and starts looking around for the halfling woman. "In any case, it's quite clear that you don't want conversation at the moment, so I'll impose on you no longer. Besides I've travelled a long way to get here, and I need a bed for the night almost as badly as I need a wash. Goodnight." Spying the inn's hostess at last, she gives a half-nod to the one-eyed stranger, picks up her pack and shield, and goes to ask about a bath and a room. As she passes by the table where Scrivner sits with the two elves, she calls out "Goodnight Scrivner. I'll guess we'll see each other at the festival in the morning."

Turning her attention back to Chod and the grim looking individual with the eyepatch, she says "My name is Eostre. I've newly arrived in town seeking signs of... something like what you are speaking of, possibly. Would you mind if Scrivner here and I joined you at your table? In any case, I'm in need of a meal myself, so I have to find a seat anyway."

Actually I did screw this up. Eostre asked to sit at the table with Charles and Chod, but never actually got an invitation to do so. So sorry for confusing things. Can we just assume that she took Chod's seat when he left and go from there?

Scrivner simply shrugs and sits down at an empty table and listens to the music.

Since I thought that the above meant that Scrivner had gone to a different table, I presumed that the conversation taking place between him, Arandor and Awarthannen was likewise at a different table to that where Eostre and Charles were seated.

Eostre sits a while and listens to the music Ameiko is playing on the samisen, intrigued by the exotic instrument and eating the meal that had ordered. While not ignoring the presence of the one-eyed man across from her, nor does she pester him with conversation just yet, content to enjoy her food and the music being played for now.

She glances around occasionally to see how other patrons are reacting to Ameiko's performance. Is this the kind of music that the city-dwellers are used to? It sounds very different to that of the Varisians or my people, but it is quite enjoyable... Eventually she mops up the last of the sauce from her bowl with the remaining bread, popping it into her mouth and eating it with evident satisfaction.

As she pushes the bowl away Eostre gives a polite belch to indicate her enjoyment of the meal, but not wishing to interrupt Ameiko's playing she keeps it small. When several of the townsfolk at nearby tables glance her way, frowns on their faces, she remembers that among these folk that isn't the right etiquette, causing her to bite her lip and shrug an apology to them.

Finally she turns her attention to the stranger seated opposite her. Speaking quietly, she says "Apparently that's not the way to tell your host the food is good around here. But then again you don't quite look like you're a local either. I introduced myself when I sat down, yet you have not given me your name. Is there a problem?"

Ditto

Eostre clears her throat and interrupts Scrivner, holding up her hand in front of her - palm out - to indicate she wishes to speak. "Wait a moment, Scrivner. We are interrupting these men and distracting them from their meal, so we should at least introduce ourselves, and then ask if they would mind if we joined their discussion."

Turning her attention back to Chod and the grim looking individual with the eyepatch, she says "My name is Eostre. I've newly arrived in town seeking signs of... something like what you are speaking of, possibly. Would you mind if Scrivner here and I joined you at your table? In any case, I'm in need of a meal myself, so I have to find a seat anyway."

She smiles at the two men, hoping that one or the other will acquiesce, but makes no move to seat herself until invited to do so. Some of these Chelish have strange customs, but being polite and clear about my intentions should help avoid any misunderstandings, I hope.

"An aasimar died in this fire you speak of, which also destroyed your temple, and just after someone was found to be killing and sacrificing demihuman remains to some demon lord?" Eostre can't help interjecting, having overheard part of the conversation after Scrivner spoke to the storyteller. That sounds significant, in light of the omens which brought me here...

Eostre steps closer to the table where the conversation is taking place. "Forgive my curiosity. What entity was this Stoot attempting to sacrifice to? And where were his remains buried after he was found?" Cocking her head to one side, she looks at the two seated men, trying to gauge whether the tale is fanciful gossip, or may have some substance. "I came here seeking something which has disturbed the spirits. What you are describing may be related to those omens. Who could tell me more about this 'Chopper'?"

Sense motive, to gauge Chod's veracity: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Diplomacy, to try and find out more information: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

"You may call me Eostre, if you wish to. A pleasure to meet you. I can see you're extremely busy here right now, but perhaps it's best if I don't offer to help now, at least not as dirty as I am." says the Shoanti woman.

"If you can tell me where to find some clean water I'll see what I can do about scrubbing up, then I'll be fit to help serve your guests." She looks at the half-elf who was speaking with Ameiko. "And you, friend? It seems we'll both be helping out here during the festival..."

I'd best get used to being friendly to strangers, since I'll be living among them until whatever is about to happen, happens...

Eostre waits at the counter for the halfling to deliver the tankards to the various tables, hoping that the woman is actually going to come back and show her to a room. She takes the opportunity to look around at the townsfolk and other strangers assembled in the inn's common room - in particular she scrutinizes the pair of elves she sees seated at one table, and she overhears the exchange between the Tian woman bearing platters of food and the half-elf nearby. I wouldn't have expected to see elves in here

Stepping forward and bowing her head slightly, she approaches the Tian woman and the half-elf. "Please excuse the interruption. Did I just hear you say you require assistance tomorrow in return for a day's meals and a room? I've only just arrived here and I need a place to stay, but although I've some coin, it won't stretch very far. So if you want another pair of hands to help I've no objection to doing domestic tasks at the festival." She is trying hard to speak like the townsfolk.

I'm not too proud to do that sort of work, and it would give me a reason to observe the festival. It would be a lot less trouble than most of the chores I had do for the shaman. Provided that I can keep calm and the spirits don't cause trouble for me... To everyone else, her words are surprisingly erudite for a woman festooned with tattoos and grime, dressed in leathers and in desperate need of a wash. Eostre smiles again. "Of course I could use a bath first. I probably smell quite bad right now."

Diplomacy, to avoid giving offense at interrupting Ameiko and Scrivner: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

By the time Eostre made her way to the Rusty Dragon she was tired and feeling quite frustrated. She felt uncomfortable in this alien environment, with all the people living atop one another, the crowding and jostling at the gates and in the market square as yet more city-dwellers arrived or made preparations for tomorrow's festival.

Although she had tried to speak with the priests at the new cathedral, the Chelish acolyte with whom Eostre had spoken had imperiously informed her that no-one had time to deal with her at the moment, due to preparations for the ceremony. He had not bothered to listen to her when she tried to explain the omens which had brought her here.

Patronizing idiot! Dismissing me as an ignorant tribeswoman, no doubt. If he knew the things we of Skoan-Quah face every day, he'd pee himself, the pompous, snotty, little strako. I'd teach him a lesson if only it wouldn't get me thrown into their jail! She was still fuming about the treatment she'd received at the cathedral as she found the inn which a Varisian had recommended to her.

When she saw how crowded the common room of the inn was, she visibly hesitated at the threshold, allowing those inside an unintended opportunity to look over the raven-haired Shoanti. The tattoos on her face and exposed arms proclaimed her to be such, although she was petite for one of the barbarians from the distant Storval Plains. She was also remarkably beautiful in an exotic and wild sort of way, despite the dust and grime from weeks spent on the roads heading to Sandpoint.

An observer not distracted by her walk may have noticed the etched-bone talisman around her neck - the one bearing the endless spiral of Pharasma. A knowledgeable one would have recognized the tattoos of the Skoan-Quah - the reclusive Skull clan of the Shoanti. Both signs that this particular young girl would be best left alone...

Seemingly oblivious to the admiring glances from some of the men in the smoky, noise filled room, Eostre made her way over to the counter where the elderly halfling woman was clearing away now empty tankards. "Pardon me, elder, but I was told that I would need to have a room to stay in town, and that such could be found here. But you seem so crowded. Are all these people staying in your inn?" What Eostre was actually thought was; Please tell me you have no space left - then I can leave and go find a space by the fire with the Varisian travelers outside the gates!

As she spoke with the halfling woman, several unattended tankards on the edge of the counter rolled off onto the floor with a clatter, seemingly of their own accord, and the smoke hovering overhead swirled as though from a sudden breeze. Calm yourself! I don't need the spirits to act on my anger and cause trouble with these townsfolk, not before I've even discovered why I'm here..."

Night guys! Stayed up way too late and it's 3:05am here in England, so see you on here tomorrow. :)

Goodnight! Midday here in Tasmania, Australia. However I'm home with the 'flu today, hence the multiple posts.

Here's the link to retrieve Eostre's Hero Lab portfolio. Permission has been set to allow anyone with the link to access it.

If you could upload it, that would be awesome.

Any particular place you want it uploaded to - like a Google docs account or similar? I don't have an account there myself, but this would be as good a reason as any to open one.

I've already used the stat block output from Hero Lab for Eostre's profile page (which I pretty much just cut from HL and pasted into the profile).

Or have I missed something obvious? I do that all too often...

Edit:

Eostre, it looks like you have two too many traits.

Like this message on the recruitment thread! Sorry Night, I only just saw this when I was going back through the thread to check something else. The answer is that Eostre had taken the Additional Traits feat, giving a starting total of four traits. However I've now changed Additional Traits for Selective Channeling, leaving her with only two traits (Auspicious tattoo [Shoanti] and Student of Faith).

Hello folks and thanks for picking me! I was beginning to think I was doing something wrong with my characters... :p

Speaking of which, I have put together a Hero Lab portfolio for Eostre - Night, do you want that portfolio emailed or uploaded somewhere for your reference?

While she's from a barbarian people, Eostre won't be taking any levels in that class. Depending on how the game develops, her progression will be either straight oracle, or maybe a few levels of bard with the dirge bard archetype. The latter archetype would fit in with being an oracle of Pharasma and round out her skills nicely.

By the way, if anyone wants to offer suggestions on the build for the oracle, feel free to comment. I'd hate to get into the game and only then be told I've missed something obvious or essential for Eostre's intended role.

Thanks for picking Eostre! It's great to get a chance to join a new campaign. :)

To the folks who unfortunately missed - keep trying, I've been where you are waiting for a game, and good luck.

@GM Nightingale - I expanded Eostre's background a little more, just in case you'd like to have a look.

As an alternative to Ghars - my barbarian character mentioned earlier - here's my offering for a healer for the party; a Shoanti oracle of Pharasma with the mystery of life.