The morning mist is burned away by the rays of weak sunshine that pierce the gray clouds to warm the cobbled streets and shingled roofs of the small village of Sandpoint. People fill the streets and taverns, laughing and chatting about everything from the weather and their harvests or crafts to the goings-on in the greater world. Children run through the streets, laughing and shrieking in delight and excitement as they explore all that the Swallowtail Festival has to offer.
Tzek, you and Madam Mvashti have just returned from a walk along the beach, enjoying the solitude and removal from the busyness of the village. As you walked through the cool ocean mist she continued to tell you of the ways of the druids, in the hope of passing her knowledge on to her most promising student before death comes to claim her in its embrace.
Tzek
After you returned to the village she told you that she was expecting a visitor and for you to go out, enjoy yourself in the festival and, later in the day, bring her a flask of holy water that Father Zantus had promised her.
Sshantera, you arrived in this quaint little village three days ago. The whole place was abuzz with excitement about the upcoming Swallowtail Festival, a christening of their new cathedral to replace the one lost in a tragic fire five years previously. You found a room at the White Deer Inn and, although the owner, a Shoanti man named Garridan Viskalai, is somewhat gruff the rooms are warm and clean and the food is good. Though you’ve searched for days and made many subtle inquiries you’re beginning to lose hope that you’ll find the teacher your master said could be found here.
Sshantera
The White Deer’s common room is a little more quite than elsewhere in the village, although several people cluster around the crackling fire and swap tales of the last season’s hunts with Garridan. Through the windows onto the street you can see the people gathering in the crowded Church Square before the new cathedral as they examine the wares presented by the merchants there and enjoy the entertainment provided by a small man, maybe half the height of a human, with a lute.
Razghul, you stand on the wide stone steps leading up to the cathedral’s large wooden door. The cathedral is a large stone building, with a bell tower and impressive stained glass windows representing the symbols of Abadar Sassarenea and Desna set into the thick walls on either side and above the door. The acolyte who greeted you, a pretty Varisian bearing the symbol of Desna, said that Father Zantus would be right out. After a few moments a human man of medium height bustles from the open cathedral door. He has a pleasant, open smile and knowing grey eyes that give the impression of being someone who can be trusted. He smiles warmly at you and says “Allya said that one of Abadar’s blessed had arrived. My name is Abstalar Zantus, I’m the leader of our spiritual community here in Sandpoint. What can I do for you? You wouldn’t happen to be the priest that the church of Abadar is supposed to send would you? Can I offer a room in the cathedral? We have several guest rooms for traveling clergy and it would be an honor to have one of Abadar’s faithful as our first guest.” As he is about to ask you something else a gruff, irritated voice shouts from within the cathedral “Are ye goin’ ta spend the whole day chatting or can we get back ta getting this damn cathedral finished? No! Mellison! Get tha’ damn door on straight this time.” Father Zantus sighs and says “Well, I must go to see what Master Ironshield needs. Perhaps we can talk later. In the meantime, enjoy Sandpoint’s hospitality.” and with that he hurries back into the cathedral. Church square is filled with happy people seeing what the various vendors have to offer and to listen to the lute playing bard. The square is filled with the cacophony of happy people talking, of children laughing and shouting, of the bard’s music, or the merchants hawking their wares. One man sells homespun woolen cloaks and other thick winter garments from his stall while besides him an earnest looking acolyte does good business selling idols and symbols important to the six faiths represented within the cathedral. The smell of exotic incense wafts from a heavily veiled stall from which an exotic woman who looks like she has elven heritage tells fortunes mixes with the smell of the smoked venison, roasted corn and piping hot apple tarts that are sold from a booth manned by a jovial fellow dressed all in an eye-hurting array of yellow, blue and red.
Raz
Torillan, your search for a job, any job, has brought you to this little bastion of civilization known as Sandpoint. You sit in the crowded common room of the Rusty Dragon. The common room is full of townspeople and farmers in from the Hinterlands discussing matters of local importance, such as crops and harvest and weather. A few talk of goblin raids and one man boasts that he “Killed me seven or eight of the little devils this season.” to the laughter of his drinking companions. Your search has so far turned up nothing of interest and, looking around the crowded room full of farmers and merchants you see little hope of getting a job as a bodyguard or mercenary. This region seems to be, apart from the occasional goblin raid, quite peaceful and relatively free of crime. You sit in the crowded common room of the Rusty Dragon. Sitting in the corner across the room from you is a tall thin man with cold, severe features and dark eyes that watch the people in the room with an unreadable expression.
Khev, though the common room of the Rusty Dragon Inn is warmed by a fire it seems to have little effect on the unshakeable chill of loneliness that haunts you. So far few of these happy farmers and merchants have seemed to take a liking to you. They aren’t hostile, and are in fact polite, but they still don’t seem comfortable around you. Still, maybe with time you can show yourself to be a useful member of the community. Maybe you can fit in here. A smiling barmaid with the olive skin of a Varisian and blue eyes approaches you and politely asks “Can I get you something to drink sir? Some hot cider would do you good.” Across the room from you is a heavily armed half-elven man with short white hair and a tanned complexion.
Turning to Madame Mvasti, I reply "Yes, I need some time with my own thoughts to meditate upon your words. And anyway, the festival will be starting soon, I don't want to miss it. I'll make sure to swing by the cathedral on my way home. Will you be joining in the festivities as well?"
After getting her answer, I head for a quiet spot just outside of town to meditate until the festival starts. I do make sure I am at the festival a good 20 minutes before it is scheduled to start.
"No, I have a visitor coming. Enjoy yourself at the festival." She says as she begins to meander back to her home.
Torillan, mulling over the slim prospects here, meanders to the bar and orders a strong ale. After paying, he takes a table near the door, occasionally eyeing the pale man.
I approach the exotic looking woman with the apparent elven blood. "Hello. It seems that I have arrived at an opportune time here in your town. I am Muad-dib, a humble servant of Abadar," indicating the symbol hanging by a chain around my neck and thereafter extending by right hand in a gesture of peace, a smile framing my face.
I let out a breath, still a little weary from the day's journey, then nod. Making a feeble attempt at a smile, I say, in a deep, gravelly voice that doesn't seem like it quite fits, "Yes... please... Food too, if you have it."
She smiles at you "Welcome to Sandpoint, Muad-dib. I am Reysa. What brings you here to our village?" she asks.
The barmaid nods and soon returns with a plate of hot food and and a steaming tankard of cider. "Here you go sir. That'll be 3 silver marks." she says and hurries off to take care anotehr customer.
The small humanoid is a gnome, playing a folk tune on a well-made lute. He seems quite talented and is gathering a fair number of coins in his hat.
Catching the barmaids eye, Torillan waves her over.
When she arrives, he asks "Pardon, miss, I'm visiting and I understand from the talk of the locals that there is a Fesival celebration today. Where will all of this be taking place? And when does it start?"
He awaits her answer...
I silently draw three silver coins from my coin pouch, each stamped with the royal seal of Korvosa, and place them on the table. Then, I take a sip of the cider and begin to eat.
She collects Khev's coins and looks at them for a moment and asks "A long way from home, aren't you. What brings you from Korvosa." and moves over to Torillan. "Yes sir, the Swallowtail Festival. The new cathedral is finished and they'll be consecrating it at noon, thats in about fifteen minutes, in Church Square. But the festivities started hours ago and will continue into the night."
Pausing between bites, I say quietly, "A variety of things."
"Yes sir, the Swallowtail Festival. The new cathedral is finished and they'll be consecrating it at noon, thats in about fifteen minutes, in Church Square. But the festivities started hours ago and will continue into the night."
"Excellent! Thank you, my dear", he says, gulping down the last bit of ale. Thumping the mug on the table, he departs the Rusty Dragon, heading for the square by the Cathedral.
I finish my food and cider and get up, bowing stiffly to the barmaid.
Perhaps I should go to this festival and see what it is about. I think to myself. I may learn something about the people here. Hopefully, though, the Grinning Hound does not take control at an inopportune moment...
Leaving the Rusty Dragon, I make my way towards the place the ceremony is being held.
I eat heartily. Thereafter, I count out four (4) silver marks from my meager supply of coins. I approach Reysa and press into her hand the coins.
"The extra is for you, my dear," I whisper into her ear. "Though business has brought me to your town. Perhaps, a little pleasure may also be found." I then make a deep bow and proceed to take my leave.
The music sounds appropriate, I then fish out another silver mark and toss it into the bard's hat, "For the music, my friend. The blessing of our Lord be upon you." Signing a benefiction his way.
I then proceed to the other stalls arrayed in the square. I try to make a quick count of the number of people, as well as the number of guards patrolling the square, if any, and the way they are armed and protected.
The cathedral is a large building, with three large wings protruding from the central circular building. Its tan stone walls tower about 15 feet above you and on top of the roof, above the primary entrance, there is a bell tower whose stained glass windows reflect the sunlight into the eyes of those who look at it. One wing, whose large wooden door is framed by two stained glass windows that show emblems of the faiths represented within this wing, Shelyn and Gozreh. Stone steps lead up to the door, which stands open.
The fortune teller seems surprised and smiles "Thank you. Abadar's faithful truly are most kind. Would you like me to see into the future, to read the signs for has not yet come to pass for you?"
The bard nods with an even wider smile at both you and Sshantera.
There don't seem to be any guards in the square, at least not that are on duty. No one is openly carrying weapons and they seem assured of their safety.
After leaving Madame Mvasti, Tzek is soon caught up in the revelry of the festival. Although it is all too chaotic and indulgent for his ascetic tastes, he is ware of his (growing) reputation as somewhat of a killjoy, or "wowser" and so he decides to meditate later, and instead now check out the festival to see what all the fuss is about.
Although certain it will not be his cup of tea, he none-the-less, wants to show the residents of Sandpoint he isn't opposed to fun, and does nto at all want to stop others from joining themselves.
Once at the festival, he will just wonder around, lost in his own thoughts, but at the same time, having a good look around (almost investigative style) to see exactly what is going on around the place.
I smile at the fortune teller.
"Compliment from such a flower, most assuredly a pleasure. But my time is not my own to spend right now. Rest assured, though, that I shall take you up on your offer some time in the future. In the meantime, please accept the blessings of our Lord." I sign a brief benediction her way.
After spending some time around the other stalls, I decide to head back to the cathedral. I hope that the pressing business of the good father is already finished. I then go over my appearance lest I present a less than sterling countenance to Father Zanthus.
As I proceed up the steps of the cathedral, I check out anyone entering. I take particular care to note the faces of those who wear expensive clothes. They might be the leaders of Sandpoint.
Our Lord demands their worship and through me His will is made manifest.
Tzek, most of the people have grown accutomed to your presence but a few still seem nervous around you and avoid you when possible.
Sshantera, the temple door is open and no one stops you as you enter. Inside it is a large room that is split in two by a partial wall down the center of the room. On each side there wooden benches provide a place for worshippers to sit facing the shrines to Shelyn and Gozreh. Murals adorn the the partial wall and goes up the domed ceiling, where the two motifs are broken by a skylight that fils the room with sunlight. A door stands open on both sides of the wall, leading deeper into the cathedral. A smiling man comes through one of the doors into the shrine to Shelyn. He smiles at you and says "Welcome to Sandpoint's cathedral. I am Father Anstalar Zantus, the priest here. What brings you here? Have you come to worship or are you just looking." A short dwarf who follows him glares at you and pipes up. "I dunno why ye let these people come into my cathedral unattended. Ye can't trust em' not to ruin something while yer back is turned."
Father Zantus says "Please forgive Master Ironshield. He is nervous about the unveiling of the cathderal. He was the one who designed it. Feel free to look around. May Desna's blessing, or the blessing of whomever you follow be with you." and begins to walk towards the door to the square. The dwarf follows him, saying "An don't touch anything!" as he walks past you.
"Thank you." she says to you, smiling. "I look forward to seeing you in the future, and to see your future."
As you enter the cathedral you see Father Zantus striding towards you followed by an irate looking dwarf.
"Muad-dib. I'm glad to see that you've come back so soon." Father Zantus says "I was going to ask you earlier, are you the priest that the Church of Abadar said they were sending? He was supposed to be here yesterday and I'd rather not have an inexpierenced acolyte be the highest ranking cleric of Abadar when the people come for worship."
I smile at Father Zantus and Master Ironshield and extend my hand in a gesture of peace.
"Sorry, Father, but my superiors have not given me any instructions beyond attending the cathedral's dedication. However, my orders are not specific as to the time of my return. Hence, I believe I can stay here for a while, if that is alright with you? At least until the arrival of the one assigned here... someone would have to tend to the worship of our Lord."
0 - cure minor wounds (Will DC 12, 1), light, resistance
Raz, Father Zantus beams at you "Thank you. I sent a messenger to Magnimar yesterday to inquire after Abadar's priest but it seems my prayers were answered. If you would like I'll give you the guest quarters for the duration of your stay. Again, thank you. I'm afraid that I must go now, a lot to be done today. I'll see you at the ceremony at sunset I trust? Feel free to wander the cathedral as you like."
Sshantera, you walk through the cathedral which is truly a well designed building. Skylights and stained glass windows let enough light in to keep the thick stone walls from seeming imposing and there is an air of calmness and peace about the building. There are three other wings, each with a shrine to two dieties but nothing you find seems to be of interest to you until you reach the central courtyard. Its a grassy circle surrounded by a cobbled path about 20 ft in diameter. Sunlight pours in, illuminating the seven granite standing stones that are arrayed around an altar black stone that glints in the midday sunlight. A feeling of power resonates in your soul as you near the stones, which are about six feet tall and roughly cylindrical. As you look more closely you think that you see a few ancient runes that you dont recognize on the nearest monolith. After a moment they fade into the rock and it seems like it must have been a trick of the light and your imaginaiton.
"Thank you, Father. I think I'll take you up on your offer. And dont' worry about me. I'll go look at the guest quarters myself."
I then take my leave and explore the cathedral.
Tzek is used to people still being a little, if not scared, at least hesitant around him, and he understands he will never be asked to baby sit anyone, but he still let's out a small sigh every time it happens. Rather than get him down however, each occasion just makes him all the more determined to prove to these people once and for all that he (and therefore Half-Orcs in general) are worthy of respect.
Prompted by the magnificent aromas wafting across the town square from the various cooking stalls, he heads over in search of some tasty grub. Although he is strictly vegetarian, Tzek still admires the wonderful aromas of the various dishes, yes even those made with meat.
Torillan, having reached the square near the cathedral, is bombarded with the scents of various foods, making realize he is still hungry. Perusing the stalls, he finds a booth with deliciously spicy kabobs of meat and vegetables, and happily buys two. He continues on, happening upon a half-orc. Himself a half-breed, Torillan attempts a conversation.
"If you are looking for good food, a booth back that way is selling these delicious kabobs. Sweet, yet spicy. Here, with my compliments" He offers one to the man.
"My name is Torillan, a traveler just passing through."
I wonder where the guest quarters are...perhaps here I turn a corner and find myself in the central courtyard. I see a figure in black examining seven granite standing stones.
I clear my throat. "Excuse me. I am Muad-dib, a humble servant of our Lord," gesturing at the holy symbol hanging by a chain around my neck. "May I help you?"
I wonder where the guest quarters are ... perhaps here I turn a corner and find myself in the central courtyard. I see a figure in black examining seven granite standing stones.
I clear my throat. "Excuse me. I am Muad-dib, a servant of our Lord." Gesturing to the holy symbol upon my chest. "May I be of service?"
"What?" Tzek is a little put out, no one (except Sabyl or Madame Mvasti) ever initiates interaction with Tzek. It takes him a moment to recover before he continues. "Oh, sorry, No thanks. I don't eat meat, even if it smells that good."
We wonders off in the direction Torillan indicated, while continuing over his shoulder "Torillan you said your name was. You're new around here. Why are you here?"
"What?" Tzek is a little put out, no one (except Sabyl or Madame Mvasti) ever initiates interaction with Tzek. It takes him a moment to recover before he continues. "Oh, sorry, No thanks. I don't eat meat, even if it smells that good."
"Oh, forgive me", Torillan says.
We wonders off in the direction Torillan indicated, while continuing over his shoulder "Torillan you said your name was. You're new around here. Why are you here?"
Catching up to the half-orc, Torillan says, "Passing through, really. I've been looking for some work, but pickings have been slim, and my coinpurse will be in the same boat. I may just continue on to Magnimar, but I figured I'd stay thru the Fesival. It's been too long since I've had some fun. By the way, I didn't catch your name?"
"I'm Tzek. What sort of work you after? Yeah, at least stay or the festival, not really my scene, all this undisciplined gaiety, but the locals seem to enjoy themselves. And it keeps the riff raff out of trouble, for a while at least."
Reaching the stalls, he scans them for any vegetarian options, and chooses a couple of rather bland vegetarian kebabs.
"I'm Tzek. What sort of work you after?
Torillan smiles. "I'm a mercenary by trade, but at this point I'd work as a field hand if I could earn some money. I prefer being a bodyguard, though. Maybe once I get to Magnimar..."
Yeah, at least stay or the festival, not really my scene, all this undisciplined gaiety, but the locals seem to enjoy themselves. And it keeps the riff raff out of trouble, for a while at least."
"I've only been here a few days, but I like this town. Reminds me a bit of home..." He trails off, lost in his own thoughts.
Torillan smiles. "I'm a mercenary by trade, but at this point I'd work as a field hand if I could earn some money. I prefer being a bodyguard, though. Maybe once I get to Magnimar..."
"Mercenary eh? Don't think there is much call around here for those types. If you are desperate for work, Gorvi aint to particualr about who he puts on. Although, not many are that desperate."
"I've only been here a few days, but I like this town. Reminds me a bit of home..." He trails off, lost in his own thoughts.
"Yeah, its a nice enough place to call home. Where is home for you?"
Where is home for you?"
"Ravenmoor. My mother fled..er..moved there just before I was born."
He notices that locals tend to stare at the pair, but he tries not to feel too self-conscious. He flexes his shoulders, ensuring that the hafts of his twin short swords strapped to his back show more prominently.
Khev wanders from stall to stall in the festival, seeing what each has to offer. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the half-orc and half-elf talking to one another.
Half-breeds... If they can find a place here, then so can I.
"Ravenmoor. My mother fled..er..moved there just before I was born."
He notices that locals tend to stare at the pair, but he tries not to feel too self-conscious. He flexes his shoulders, ensuring that the hafts of his twin short swords strapped to his back show more prominently.
"Ravenmoor eh? What's that like?"
Tzek notices the locals as well, but by now is used to, and hardly notices, their "attention." Noticing the extra attention is making Torillan uncomfortable, "Don't worry about them. I've been here for ages, and still most folks can't help but stare." raising his voice slightly "Some folks just got no manners."
Yeah, hanging out with Torillan in the square.
Khev, you wander aimlessly through the crowds, taking in what the festival has to offer. The throngs of happy people lead you through the cobbled streets and into Church Square. The crowd pays you little mind, incorporating you into its merry whole. For once you are not shunned or even given a second glance. As far as the people of Sandpoint are concerned, you are just another stranger attending the festival. As you walk up High street something bright red whizzes past your shoulder, narrowly missing the side of your head and lands in the gutter of a nearby house, where it stays. Several young boys run up to you. The one in the lead, a slim, dark haired fellow, looks apologetic and a little nervous as he says “Please sir. I’m terrbly sorry. We didna mean to almos hit ya.” With a nervous smile he adds “If it wouldna be too much trouble, could ya get our ball for us? We canna reach and you’re a lot taller than us.”
By now it is only a short while until noon and most people have gathered in Church Square. In a few minutes a few speeches will be made and the Swallowtail Festival will be officially under way.
"S-sure." I walk over and retrieve the ball, and hand it to the boy, attempting to smile. "Here ya go, kid."
With that, I make my way over to the place the speeches will take place.
People begin to set up tables in the open space in the centre of Church Square and food provided free of charge by the inns and taverns of Sandpoint is placed on long tables. Soon there is enough seating for most people and many others find comfortable spots along the edge of the square. As noon nears people mil about, waiting for the speeches that will declare the festival officially under way.
Finally at noon Mayor Kendra Deverin, an attractive human woman of average height with shoulder length auburn hair, steps out onto the steps of the cathedral and clears her throat. Silence falls as the last few stragglers find seats and all eyes are upon the mayor.
She smiles and begins “"Welcome! It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. I hope you all are enjoying your stay here in Sandpoint and especially if it is your first visit here I sincerely hope that you're having a wonderful time. And to all of the old faces I see today, thank you for coming and thank you for everything that each of you has done to keep this town strong in recent years. I see that even Larz Rovanky has torn himself away from work to join us today! It is truly a miracle from Desna herself! [There is quite a bit of laughter and many eyes are turned to a serious looking man dressed in all leather and wearing a sour expression on his face. Kendra waves to him and continues.] Without further ado, let me introduce your Sheriff, Belor Hemlock!"
A dour looking man wearing a worn breastplate and a longsword belted at his waist stands and walks to the center of the stage. His head is shaved and he his eyes are constantly moving about the crowd. He shakes the Mayor's hand and begins to speak. "Thank you Mayor. Even in the heat of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. And also let us not forget the souls that were lost five years ago. I would like you to all join me in a moment of silence to remember the lives that were lost in the fire that claimed our previous chapel on that fateful night. [The Sheriff lowers his head and the crowd joins him, many of them quite awkwardly as the silence persists. After the moment is over, the Sheriff raises his head and begins to speak again.] In remembering let us also not allow these events to repeat themselves. I am of the understanding that a bonfire is planned for tonight. I urge you all to observe caution during this event. [he clears his throat and smiles awkwardly] And ummm... Enjoy yourselves. Let me introduce the next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprieter of the local theatre."
He nods to the crowd and walks back to his chair, passing the next speaker who is already on his way up to the center-stage. This man is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; he is brightly dressed, sports a well-groomed goatee, and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the day. As he reaches the center stage he loosens his collar a bit, winks into the crowd and starts to talk:
"Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory. Now I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished [He motions towards the church.] And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? Solid gold. I kid you not, our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. I think the Churches even chipped in a silver or two! I even heard a rumor that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Padre over here is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him get things going I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to the new production of "The Harpy's Curse" starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera the harpy queen! It's all premiering tomorrow evening at the Sandpoint Theatre and it is going to be fabulous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"
The crowd cheers as Cyrdak motions Zantus to the center stage. The young priest looks noticedly abashed at the reception set up for him. He wears the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck. He smiles and tries to calm the crowd down, eventually speaking when the applause has subsided:
"Ahem, thank you. Thank you Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most Holy day. Today is a day of new beginnings so without boring you with long speeches, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"
The speeches seem to have been well received by the audience, although a few people look a little ruffled at Cyrdak’s remarks. The people of Sandpoint cheer and applaude before going about the serious business of tasting the delicacies provided by Sandpoint’s many inns and taverns. Ameiko’s Curried salmon served with mugs of early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other offerings, such as the White Deer’s peppercorn venison and the Hagfish’s lobster chowder although everything offered is of excellent quality. Soon the square is filled by happy people enjoying the food offered and chatting happily of all manner of things.
As the chairs are set up, Tzek keeps out of the way, and seeks a spot to stand at the back of the crowd. During the speeches stands still and silent at the back, intently paying attention.
Anyone paying attention would notice he doesn't laugh with the rest of the crowd, and its not because he doesn't get the jokes.
Addressing the figure in black, "There seems to be a commotion outside." Sketching a bow, "Pardon me but I have to leave you."
Raz swiftly walked out of the courtyard to the entrance of the cathedral.