Illamen stands at the edge of the square and eyes the hustle and bustle from a distance. His clothes are worn and dusty from travelling cross-country, with more than a few patches visible. 'I should've bought a cloak with a wide hood,' he chides himself, self-consciously reaching up to check the tips of his ears are well-hidden under his hair. Making a face, he adds another thought: 'I should've saved some coppers so I could have a haircut.' Then again, long hair allows him to be just a little less conspicuous than he would otherwise be. The young elf sighs, and picks up his quarterstaff from where he'd leaned it against the wall. Feeling even more self-conscious, Illamen tries to get closer to the temple. He didn't travel all this way just to not be able to see and hear what's going on.
Ah, the smell of fall in the air was always exhilarating. It looks like Mischa arrived in town just in time for the festival. Good tidings now that he was looking for work. The merchant caravan from Magnimar was uneventful and they did not need his help for the next leg, leaving Mischa out of a job for the foreseeable future. With all of these people, however, there must be a need for trained watchmen. There was time for that though. For the moment, a good local meal and perhaps some entertainment would lift his spirits. It was difficult shaking the memory of his mentor's passing, but life goes on ... usually. Mischa adjusted his heavy pack laden with everything he owned before wading into the throng of people.
Pratashi enters Sandpoint and makes his way to the market square, placidly accepting the occasional stare at his strange dress and unusual weapons. The people of Varisia have been warm and friendly to the Vudrani so far and he's been enjoying the mix of new, yet familiar as he travels.
Stopping at one of the stalls, he buys himself a simple roll of bread and settles back to enjoy it as he watches the festivities.
Chaine hurries through the town to the square. It looks like we just made it, he thinks to himself. He pauses for a moment to see where Kras went and notices his towering form just off the left behind a crowd of people.
Dergo loitered around the festival square, and watched the stall filling themselves with the visitors and locals alike. His eyes were readened, and he giggled quietly to himself.
He scratched himself unashamedly, and kept a lookout for any halfway decent-looking woman who wouldn't know him all that well.
Kras walks casually through the crowds, smiling and humming a tune, he sees Chaine ahead and walks faster to catch up
Chaine manuevers through the crowd trying to get closer to the church so that he and Kras can deliver the Abbot's gift to the local clergy. He pauses for a moment to let Kras catch up and engages one of the locals in conversation.
"Excuse me," he says, tapping a woman on the shoulder. "Could you please direct me to the head of your church? I'm afraid we are running a little late. We have a gift for him from our Abbot."
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Chaine manuevers through the crowd trying to get closer to the church so that he and Kras can deliver the Abbot's gift to the local clergy. He pauses for a moment to let Kras catch up and engages one of the locals in conversation.
"Excuse me," he says, tapping a woman on the shoulder. "Could you please direct me to the head of your church? I'm afraid we are running a little late. We have a gift for him from our Abbot."
look behine you
Raencyrith sat watching the Swallowtail festival being set up in the predawn hours of what promised to be a beautiful day. It was almost as if the spirits of the night were engaged in building the day to come. Cooking fires were set, wares were put on display, arranged and rearranged again for maximum effect.
He stretched his long, lean frame out at the base of the town fountain, finding a comfortable location from which he could watch the world as it orbited around him and hopefully attract enough listeners for his stories. In the mean time he enjoyed the growing light of the dawn and listened to the conversation of the merchants around him.
As the sun rose he pealed a pear and watched the gathering crowd. The first ones at any fair were invariably the bargain hunters and children. The former for the obvious reasons and children because you couldn't keep them away, even if you wanted to. This was especially true of those waifs that humans tended to let run wild, unattended and unloved. They moved through the fair like hungry hawks, one eye on anything they could lay their hands on unnoticed and the other ever searching for the city guard.
He sliced the pear in half, one side was for his enjoyment, the other as bait. The bait he placed to the side, in sight but not obviously so. It didn't take long before he noticed the tiny hand reach out from beyond the bend of the fountain steps. A quick glance at the young girl and he smiled. Perfect. She couldn't have been more than seven, obviously poor and more obviously hungry.
He turned to her and grinned. "You must by Anara. I was told to expect you." Panic warred with confusion in her features, unsure of what to do. "Would you like some cheese with your pear?" he asked casually. Hunger won and she nodded her head. As he tore off a piece of the honey loaf he'd gotten fresh from the baker before the sun came up he offered it to her. She reached out for it with her every muscle primed to bolt if Raencyrith tried to grab her. He didn't so she stayed in place. With one eye on him she consumed both the pear and the bread like a hungry vole.
"Your brother told me that you'd be stopping by" he lied "and I promised him I'd let you chose the first story of the day. So what will it be; Pyrna and the Golden Dragon, Larsa and Galen, Kystra and the Blue Faerie?"
He watched her calculating if it was worth it. She had eaten the food and ran the risk of being found out. On the other hand, when was the last time she had a chance to listen to a storyteller and even more exciting, choose the story to be told. That was the privilege of those with jingle to pay for the story. Her eyes narrowed as she decide that fortune favors the bold.
"Are you an elf?" she asked.
"Indeed I am. Raenciryth by name, storyteller by trade. So what will be your pleasure little one?"
She hesitated for a moment and asked "Can you tell me the story of Janna and the Queen of Air and Shadows?"
Raenciryth laughed. It was a good choice, better then the tales he had offered and by her standards infinitely superior because it was a good quarter hour longer in the telling. "A fine choice he smiled"
"In the days before the emerald throne was shattered and cast into the burning sea there was young girl by the name of Janna. She lived in Black Star castle as a scullery maid ......."
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The turnout for the opening speeches
is quite respectable, and the four keynote speakers each deliver
short but well-received welcomes to the festival. Mayor Deverin’s
friendly attitude and excitement prove contagious as she welcomes
visitors to town and jokes about how even Larz Rovanky,
the local tanner (and notorious workaholic) managed to tear
himself away from the tannery to attend, much to everyone’s but
Larz’s amusement. Sheriff Hemlock brings the crowd down a bit
with his dour mood, his reminder to be safe around the evening’s
bonfi re, and his request for a moment of silence to remember
those who lost their lives in the fire that claimed the town’s previous
church five years ago. Fortunately, Cyrdak Drokkus is more
than up to the challenge of bringing the crowd’s mood back up
with his rousing anecdotes as he delivers a not-completely-irreverent
recap of the long process the town went through to fi nance
and construct the new cathedral. He throws in a bit of self-promotion
at the end, as is his wont, inviting everyone to stop by
the Sandpoint Theater the following evening to check out his
new production of “The Harpy’s Curse,” revealing that the lead
role of Avisera the harpy queen will be played by none other than
the famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda! Finally, Father Zantus
steps up give a short speech thanking everyone for coming before
declaring the Swallowtail Festival underway.
Chaine listens to the speeches and, when Father Zantus starts to speak, decides to move slowly in his direction, so he will be nearby when the Father is finished.
kras will go and stand next to chaine "im bored, have you heard of any princesses in need of rescuing, pretty princesses ofcourse!"
kras will go and stand next to chaine "im bored, have you heard of any princesses in need of rescuing, pretty princesses ofcourse!"
Chaine elbows Kras and shoots him a sharp look to keep him from talking during the Father's speech. As son as the Father finishes speaking, he drags Kras with him to talk to Father Zabtus and present thier Abbot's gift.
'Pretty speeches, flowery words, I suppose it's worthy of the occasion,' Illamen thinks to himself as he moves through the crowd. 'But if anything could convince me of an essential brotherhood of all species, it is the fact that all speeches by officials sound boring and seem to last longer than strictly necessary.'
The young elf is making his way between the stands, looking for some quality merchandise - specifically, good travelling rations; he ate his last one this morning - when he spots the storyteller with his juvenile audience.
Trying very hard not to be conspicuous, Illamen turns his back on the storyteller and starts to walk in another direction, trying to lose himself in the crowd. 'I really must buy a cloak with a hood,' he tells himself. 'Don't think I know him, don't think I ever saw him back home, but news travels. I'm not in the mood to talk to a kinsman so soon ...'
Dergo rubbed his eyes during the speech, and stiffled a yawn. The men really knew how to put a damper on the festivities, with the worries about people being safe, and... generally putting way too much dreadful mundane reality into the event.
He started to stroll through the market stands, without any haste. Maybe one of the traveling traders had less good sense than he could manage to bluff his way past, and would make this a very good day. If not, well... any day he wasn't doing some chore was a good day in his book.
Raencyrith looked up as he noticed a fellow elf moving through the crowd. Being that he seemed to be trying to be inconspicuous and deliberately turned to avoid his fellow elf, Raencyrith let him pass without a word. If he needed his anonymity, it would be an unkindness to bring attention to him.
Considering he seemed not to be recognized as an elf, Raencyrith wondered if there was some problem that might fall upon any elf. He'd have to keep his ears sharp.
At that moment a matronly woman sat her son down near the storyteller, telling him to stay put until she came back. Raencyrith shot her a friendly grin and nodded to his hat. She nodded and tossed him a pair of coppers and went on her way. Turning to "Anara" he continued the tale. As the day went on he'd move to more and more adult stories, drawing in more of a paying crowd. In the mean time, a copper here, a mug of cider, some bread or sausage there would do well enough.
The nice thing was that in a city kids knew things, who was who, what was going on, who to talk to, who to avoid. Between stories he'd listen and learn. In the mean time...
"As I was saying, the wind was blowing cold by the time Janna reached the cross roads. She looked up at the clear sky and wondered if the gods were looking down on her. She pulled the four leaves and the salt. Pouring the salt in a circle she started to chant;
By the stars and by the Air
By the blood and by the Light
Holly and Ash, Oak and Elm
I summon the Lady of the Night"
"Fist she chanted it to the north, then to the east, next to the west. As she finished, she tossed the leaves into the air and watched them dance on the wind. They swirled here then there when suddenly like a hawk in flight they blew west and disappeared into the darkness."
"She stared deeply into the darkness, waiting, wondering if what the hag had told her was right. If it wasn't, she was doomed and so was Karak...."
OOC: I would like to make a gather information or Knowledge Local roll to see if I pick up any rumors. If I hear anything you can let me when the information comes to me. I'll send you the rolls shortly
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At noon, Father Zantus and his acolytes
wheel a large covered wagon into the square, and after recounting
the short parable of how Desna fi rst fell to earth and was nursed
back to health by a blind child who she transformed into an immortal
butterfly as a reward for her aid, they pull aside the wagon’s cover, releasing the thousand children of Desna—a furious storm
of a thousand swallowtail butterflies that swarm into the air in a
spiraling riot of color to a great cheer from the crowd. Throughout
the rest of the day, children futilely chase butterflies, never quite
quick enough to catch them.
Illamen listens to the tale and watches the children chasing the butterflies. He allows himself a brief smile; barely more than a quirk of the lips. 'Little kids ... cute.' Then his mood sours; he shakes his head and continues his perusal of the various stalls. 'Cute to look at. Not to have. Not yet. Not yet ...'
Since Chaine was unable to catch Father Zantus after his speech, he goes in search of him after the butterfly release. He thinks to himself,"This priest is a slippery one. Maybe we can find him near the wagon where the butterflies were released." Chaine heads for the wagon, motioning Kras to follow.
kras will follow chaine
Chaine
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at noon lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s
taverns. Each brings its best dishes—this event is a marketing push
by the taverns as much to win new customers as it is to feed a hungry
crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch
is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced
salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other
off erings, such as the Hagfi sh’s lobster chowder or the White
Deer’s peppercorn venison
at noon lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s
taverns. Each brings its best dishes—this event is a marketing push
by the taverns as much to win new customers as it is to feed a hungry
crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch
is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced
salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other
off erings, such as the Hagfi sh’s lobster chowder or the White
Deer’s peppercorn venison
Chaine's stomach rumbles and he decides that he can always hunt Father Zantus down after he has had a bite to eat. He says as much to his brother and then attempts to sample everything that has been laid out.
Free lunch had always been, and would always remain Dergo's favorite kind of lunch. So he dug in to the extend he felt he could risk - he wouldn't risk being thrown out - not with so many ladies from out of town present. But he kept sneaking treat after treat to his plate.
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at noon lunch is provided free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s
taverns. Each brings its best dishes—this event is a marketing push
by the taverns as much to win new customers as it is to feed a hungry
crowd. It soon becomes apparent that the darling of the lunch
is, once again, Ameiko Kaijitsu, whose remarkable curry-spiced
salmon and early winterdrop mead easily overshadow the other
off erings, such as the Hagfi sh’s lobster chowder or the White
Deer’s peppercorn venisonChaine's stomach rumbles and he decides that he can always hunt Father Zantus down after he has had a bite to eat. He says as much to his brother and then attempts to sample everything that has been laid out.
as you enjoy all the good food and drink,a kindly old man taps you on the shoulder.hello fellow member of the cloth im Father Zantus.From what i hear you were looking for me.
as you enjoy all the good food and drink,a kindly old man taps you on the shoulder.hello fellow member of the cloth im Father Zantus.From what i hear you were looking for me.
Chaine quickly rises to shake the priest's hand and quickly swallows a mouth full of food before saying, "Yes, Father. I am Chaine and this," he says, pointing at the half-orc, "is my brother Kras. We are representatives from the Church of Iomedae and we bring a gift for your new temple. Our Abbot sends his best wishes and this." Chaine reaches down and pulls up a small wooden box and hands it to Father Zantus.
As Zantus opens the box, it is to reveal a golden censor nestled in blue velvet lining. The symbol of Desna is worked into the gold and the polished metal gleams brightly in the sunlight.
Illamen wanders around, sampling a bit of this and a bit of that when the food comes on. The curry's nice, of course, but he takes another helping of the venison. The chowder, he abandons after a polite sampling. 'Ugh, fish,' the Elf grumbles to himself as he moves along, looking for some tasty bread to accompany his curry and venison.