Oathday, 1st of Rova. Sandpoint
The lingering warmth of summer still holds to the Lost Coast. The temperature and sunshine have blessed Sandpoint and The Swallowtail Festival. Kids scamper about waving brightly colored paper mockeries of butterflies. Men and women alike holler, laugh, and share hearty conversation as others set up food carts, tents, and the like. The occasional guard will walk through, but is often engaged completely in the festivities like all the other residents of the village.
The temple itself, the reason for the enhanced celebration, is brightly decorated with streamers hanging from its walls and flowers blooming from its gardens. The new chapel stands proud and tall, a bastion of faith and religion.
Thought the town, especially the square outside of the church, buzz with bustle and activity, a spreading and respectful quiet begins to possess the revelers as Mayor Deverin takes the stage for the opening speech.
The slim woman stands upon the makeshift stage erected in front of the new temple and smiles. She raises her arms out and begins a welcoming speech. Her words are encouraging as she mentions a new era of prosperity for Sandpoint. Her speech is littered with jokes and anecdotes, both raucous and sublime . . .Playwright Drokkus even interrupts to note that his mayor was such an accomplished jester, much to the mirth of the citizens.
The mood does shift, but only for a second, as Sherriff Hemlock reminds people to be safe, and leads the town through a moment of silence for those who lost their lives 5 years ago in the fire. Playwright Drokkus takes the stage and with an impromptu limerick about Das Korvut, lightens the mood. Finally, Father Zantus himself declares the festival underway.
A few magical prestidigitations take effect showering the sky with puffs of animated smoke resembling the holy symbols of the faith. The crowd soon dissipates into eating, drinking, gaming, and general carousal.
He looked about for the two men he had met last night, caught between inns on the road. They had camped together sharing bread, cheese, wine, and stories. Then came the dice.
Vaclav checked his belt pouch. There were still a few coins inside. "My offering will be smaller today," he thought. He searched the campsite quickly. His gear was still intact. Honest gamblers then, not theives. "Erastil save me from myself."
From down the hill he could just hear the glad calls and cries of the holiday crowd on the road. He gathered up his goods and walked down to join them.
10 am. "See yourself as we see you." Rennet passed his hand over his cheek. "I could use a shave. And a bath." He decided that he should hurry up to the temple lest he miss the consecration. Besides, he didn't have enough coin for an inn and a decent offering. "Maybe I can stay at the temple."
Tzoltan stood in the center of the gathered crowd as the last of the speechifying and pyrotechnics were completed. A start had been called to the festivities, and families and friends had begun to break off into small groups to socialize and celebrate.
The young tinker sighed, his shoulders slumping. He would have no work today, and didn't feel comfortable intruding on any of the ongoing conversations. He looks around at the familiar faces, most of them smiling, but can't quite work up the courage to walk over.
He hikes up his belt, gaining some comfort in the heft of the tools of his trade, and promises that he will work on reducing his growing waistline. He'll need to punch a new hole in the belt soon, and he isn't even eighteen yet. "I thought only old, lazy people got fat," he mumbles to himself, buying a warm pork pie from a vendor and absently munching on it as he looks around. "Maybe I should just go home and get some rest. I can come back out tonight and get drunk."
Undecided, he stands in the center of the swirling crowds, feeling self-conscious and foolish.
Vaclav moves through town keeping an eye out for inns and taverns, asking directions to the cathedral at each turn. He is pleased with the cheerful demeanor of the crowd on this important occasion and smiles at anyone who greets him or gives him more directions.
Once he reaches the cathedral, he sheds his pack and cloak in an inconspicuous corner along the cathedral wall, but retains his other gear. He looks about for anyone wearing an obvious holy symbol or clerical vestments. He politely inquires of anyone who greets him for the head cleric. He'll also listen patiently for the nth time to someones description of the events leading up to "this great day" and congratulate them sincerely on the town's success.
Onagella wanders through the crowd after the ceremony, particularly looking for travellers. She inquires about conditions on the roads, and any caravans that may be leaving or arriving soon. She will give everyone a friendly smile, and chat with anyone who seems interested in doing so. She keeps Sunshine close by her.
EDIT: To Vaclav: I believe that last fellow to speak at the ceremony was the high priest, although he is not particularly a follower of Erastil. I would be happy in joining you in paying my respects, although I usually express my faith by living as I feel Erastil desires, rather than ceremony. Meaning no disrespect, of course.
EDIT: To Tzoltan: You look lost young man. I am astranger here myself, but I visit frequently. Can I help you find your way somewhere?
EDIT: To Vaclav: I believe that last fellow to speak at the ceremony was the high priest, although he is not particularly a follower of Erastil. I would be happy in joining you in paying my respects, although I usually express my faith by living as I feel Erastil desires, rather than ceremony. Meaning no disrespect, of course.
You speak fairly, madam dwarf. I am Vaclav Rennet. I wander from temple to temple seeking my place. I feel marked for service to Deadeye, but ... don't know what to do. If you truly walk the path of the Provider you are one step ahead of me.
Tzoltan looks down at the stranger, startled to be addressed. He does the "who me?" face, pointing to his chest, before he realizes that yes, he is in fact being questioned by a lady dwarf. He stares openly at the unusual sight, trying to chew and swallow the inconvenient mouthful that he had just bitten off.
"Umm. Thank you, no. I mean, I live here, and I guess maybe I just generally look lost." His face turns a crimson red as he blushes. "I sound like an idiot." He thinks to himself, then perhaps unexpectantly adds in dwarven, ["Are you an engineer? I've learned dwarf to read your engineering manuals. They're the best"]
Rince spends the morning helping with preparations if he's allowed to. He greets everyone as a long lost friend with especial attention for anyone obviously following a religious calling.
"My name is Rince and I'm very pleased to meet you...Let me get you a drink and a plate of food....I hope to be among the first to worship at the shrine to Erastil and I long to wield my blade in His service."
If at all possible Rince will gravitate towards those who speak of simple things, he feels slightly out of his depth talking about anything more cosmopolitan than grain farming.
"Whoo hooo!" Kicking up his legs and blowing shrill pitches on his pipe. "What are we celebrating here?" he asks the people around him with a laugh; "Who cares" he answers. He dances over to a group of young maidens and circles them with a wink before moving off. Looking down he sees a female Dwarf and raises his eyebrows and then back into the crowd.
["Are you an engineer? I've learned dwarf to read your engineering manuals. They're the best"]
Onagella replies in her native tongue. "Engineer? Ha, only if you consider a mule an engine! I work Caravans. My father wanted me to be an engineer of course... I imagine yours wants you to be a drover?"
You speak fairly, madam dwarf. I am Vaclav Rennet. I wander from temple to temple seeking my place. I feel marked for service to Deadeye, but ... don't know what to do. If you truly walk the path of the Provider you are one step ahead of me.
Well I wouldn't claim an special holiness; I just do what i love, which happens to be working caravans. I work with animals, sometimes I hunt, I guard folks, and facilitate commerce. Seems to me, in my nonscholarly way, that I'm doing what Erastil wants. But that's not why I do it. It's just what I want to do. So I always say thanks to Erastil for the job, I guess.
I'm called Onagella. I'd be happy to take you on as an assistant on a caravan, but I suspect you're seeking a different path. If you find it, follow it! If I see a priest of Erastil around, I'll steer him in your direction.
Marius strolls through the crowd with his staff in one hand and pile of books in his other. He has just come from The Curious Goblin where he had "borrowed" a few books. Marius and Chask Haladan have an arrangement in which Marius will create beautiful maps to go with some of the books from Chask's collection in exchange for allowing Marius to read and return his books. Marius has often attempted to purchase some of Chask's more rare books, but of course Chask couldn't possibly part with his most beloved lore.
Marius lets out a sigh of regret and continues on toward the celebrations.
He finds a cozy spot were he can see the mayor and other dignitaries and opens up one of his new books, "Preserving an Empire" written in Thassilonian of course. This causes Marius to chuckle to himself at the irony of it all.
His concentration is broken by the nearby hooting and hollaring of what could only be a bard. The shrill notes on his pipe causing Marius' ears to wince. Marius has always found bards to be quite too vocal and believing they always have heard of a story to deal with any situation. Nonsense he thinks to himself, "only a studious individual will uncover the truths of the past, not one man's interpretation". Marius quickly falls back into soaking up the material from his books.
Before he knows it, an hour has passed already and he looks up again when the sounds of a few magical prestidigitations shower the sky with sparks and smoke. Looking around he notices many strangers new to Sandpoint and wonders if he might have more work to do later in the day for all of these travelers.
I'm called Onagella. I'd be happy to take you on as an assistant on a caravan, but I suspect you're seeking a different path. If you find it, follow it! If I see a priest of Erastil around, I'll steer him in your direction.
I am happy to meet you, Onagella. If things do not work out at the temple here, perhaps I will take you up on that. I am a fair shot with this bow.
To Rince: Thank you, good sir. It was a long thirsty walk here this morning. I see you wear the sign of Erastil. Are you associated with the temple here? I am seeking a place in his service.
The day wears on. Food, dancing, archery contests, and general tomfoolery are the call of the day. A quartet find themselves near the church talking religion and life under the shade of leafy oak. Vaclav, Rince, and Ongella find their conversation meandering over topics of religion, faith, and the onus familial business. At the periphery of this meeting young Tzoltan Devreen occassionally throws his 2 coppers in, but he seems just content to actually be amidst a group of people.
Not too far off the whirling and carousing bard Girst sings, croons, and dances with maidens fair; the noise he makes is particularly grating for Marius Vaca. The young wizard alternates between reading a thick tome, pondering if he should be marketing his cartography, and leaving the vicinity of the loud Girst.
Father Zantus speaks right before lunch -- releasing the Swallowtails to commemorate Desna and her chosen symbol. Lunch is served afterwards; a buffet of free food is offered by the taverns. Everyone settles down to enjoy the salmon, venison and lobster stew that is offered.
As Marius continues to read he hears the loud laughter of children playing and admiring the release of the butterflies. Marius stretches his back hearing a few pops as he stands and gives a hearty yawn. He muses over to wear a few children are watching the last of the butterflies fly off into the countryside and Marius begins chanting a little. Suddenly a puff of smoke expands around him and the shapes of 4 white doves form from the smoke. The kids noticing watch and giggle as the birds fly around Marius entertaining the small group of children. It is not until a real bird's droppings hit Marius on his hat that he loses his concentration, muttering a slight curse, as the children erupt in a howl of laughter.
notices out of the corner or his eye a man entertaining children with a simple spell and stops a moment to watch.
Once the bird dropping hits the man on the top of his head Girst looses it; belly flopping on the ground, pounding his fists in the dirt, howling with laughter.
Marius' face turns bright red, more from embarrassment than from anger and slumps away finding some water to wash the stains off his hat. After recomposing himself, he heads in the direction of the food. His stomach starting to rumble from eating nothing this day. He eyes some of the delicious food, deciding on the venison and lobster stew and heads back over to his books. All the while keeping an eye towards the sky, he has a surprise for the next bird that he sees.
"Hey... what's that up there?" "Another bird... look out! "Oh no here comes it's dropping and it's about to land on my..." He winces a bit with a slight jerk of his head then begins to stumble, right then left turns where he's standing, arms flailing, head rolling and tongue wagging, 'till he hits the ground and is still. He pops up, bows around the crowd and... "Hey... Where'd he go?"
"Look out!", feigns being hit by bird droppings stumbles right and left, spins around and hits the ground with arms splayed.
Jumps up, bows around to the crowd. "Hey... Where'd he go?"
Tzoltan edges away from the theological conversation going on around him, trying to saty inconspicuous but remaining within speaking and hearing distance.
Discussion and merriment continue throughout the day. People become sated with wine and food. Children dart to and fro; the festival has truly been a day of joy.
A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun's setting rays paint the western sky. Onagella's dog curls against her at the sound; a nearby stray that lay sleeping under a wagon starts awake. The buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn towards the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman's scream slices through the air. A few seconds later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of new voices rise - high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts as something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sounds of a strange song begin, chanted in broken common with shrill, scratchy voices:
Spot Check DC 14
Listen Check DC 14
Initiatives
Marius d20 + 2 = 21
Onagella d20 + 1 = 21
Vaclav d20 + 2 = 18
Tzoltan d20 + 3 = 15
Girst d20 + 2 = 13
Rince d20 = 3
All right folks that is the list. Goblins go first. Marius start us off. Don't forget to make your spot checks and listen checks at the start of the turn.
Since I cannot see the goblins but can hear them, I try to marshal any children I see nearby away from the terrible sounds.
Marius looks all about to further try and understand the cause of the chaos; unfortunately, the crush of now-fleeing partygoers makes picking out a threat hard to do. Thinking on his feet Marius will shepherd the children to their parents and family, at the same time preparing for the worst.
Made both checks!
Onagella growls "Sunshine. Goblins. Attack!"
She readies her axe and advances on the nearest goblins.
Over her shoulder she says "Find the fire and get it put out."
Made both checks!
Onagella growls "Sunshine. Goblins. Attack!"
She readies her axe and advances on the nearest goblins.
Over her shoulder she says "Find the fire and get it put out."
Sunshine looks confused. Onagella realizes Sunshine likey misheard her over the noise. The dwarf pulls out her axe and prepares for the goblins.
Spot 16+3=19, Listen 5+3=8
Vaclav sees the 3 goblins. Too close for the bow. He leaves it on the ground as he rises to his feet and draws his morning star. He looks around for more goblins and Onagella's fire.
Spot 12+3=15 or Search 17-1=16, as applicable, looking for the fire.
Grrrr... whine!?
Yeah, but you used your move action to give Sunshine an attack. So yes, you could move up and pull out your axe just not attack. It would be a double action. If that is what you want to do, let me know. You would then be adjacent to the goblin.
Spot 16+3=19, Listen 5+3=8
Vaclav sees the 3 goblins. Too close for the bow. He leaves it on the ground as he rises to his feet and draws his morning star. He looks around for more goblins and Onagella's fire.
Spot 12+3=15 or Search 17-1=16, as applicable, looking for the fire.
Vaclav rises and pulls out his weapon. He see's smoke coming from the south of the cathedral.
Onagella closes with the goblin, axe ready.
Vaclav's mind whirls. The goblins or the fire?
Vaclav's mind whirls. The goblins or the fire?
No you only see the smoke. The 2 goblins on the tables are busy slicing down (or attempting) passserbys. The smoke is coming from out of sight. It is only a slight amount now, substantial, but not a burning building you would imagine.
Made the spot check, but not the listen.
Tzoltan takes an involuntary step back from the horrid little creature closest to him. He looks around at the chaos and pulls his hammer from his tool belt, unsure of what to do. He wonders absently what might be burning. (Spot check for any further details of what's going on around him: 6+0=6)
Other than dishing out attacks of opportunity on passing goblins that come within hammering range, Tzoltan will stay put, trying to take in everything that's happening and make sense of it.
Tzoltan backs out of harms way. He pulls a hammer out for defense.
Made the spot but not the listen check.
Listens to the goblins song (that was really cool by the way, DM) as he pulls out his flute and begins playing along*, bending and twisting the melody into something more; while he eyes a fallen guard and his crossbow and bolts.
*Inspire Courage +1
Girst pulls magic through music. A courage, a strength flows through you with harmony. Your nerves settle as you fill with confidence.
Rince was having one of the best days of his life: Plenty of food, excellent drink, fine conversation with loads of potential new friends and now this !
Spot Roll (1d20+1=13)
Listen Roll (1d20+1=5)
Feeling naked and vulnerable without his grandfather's sword in his hand Rince will move to where his gear is stashed under a table and retrieve his weapon and shield , screaming for someone to tell him "Where's that Cursed Noise coming from ?"
Rince quickly darts to his equipment and dons it.
The duo of goblins atop the tables continue thier cavorting. They take idle swings at passerybys and occassionaly munch on the venison steaks still sitting on the plates.
The goblin near Onagella however quickly strikes out. Its wicked little sword cuts at the dwarf; the ranger however is capable of dodging the attack.