Quink is taken in by your obvious feigning of innocence. "Oh really? What manner of things did you learn? I don't suppose you picked up much Thassilonian history during your studies, did you? I've been studying the topic voraciously over the past few years and would love to hear if you've learned anything…interesting." He pauses and says, "Will you walk with me for a bit? I would like to return home and I don't enjoy navigating the streets with these crowds by myself."
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Bad luck, Vors. Perhaps, the Ogre Crusher is more your game... Ash looks at a disappointed Evie, Don't worry little one, your brother is a strong lad! He'll win you something for sure!
As he passes within shouting distance of Brodert and Viorela, he calls to the old sage, Quink! Don't forget, you owe me a conversation about the Old Light!
Tosh quickly becomes bored of his search for band mates and instead begins looking for some of his companions.
Vors
Moving back over to the Ogre Crusher, the large man taunts you. "So, you couldn't hit the bags and think my game will be easier? Think again. 5 pennies gets you a swing of the mallet. Let's see what you can do."
Quink turns his head at Ash's call. "You just come by my house later. We'll talk then. And bring some food with you, too."
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Vors
Moving back over to the Ogre Crusher, the large man taunts you. "So, you couldn't hit the bags and think my game will be easier? Think again. 5 pennies gets you a swing of the mallet. Let's see what you can do."
Quink turns his head at Ash's call. "You just come by my house later. We'll talk then. And bring some food with you, too."
You got it Old Man! Ash responds with a laugh and turns back to Vors, You got this buddy!
Tosh scans the crowd from atop a heap of empty wine casks. A flash of red hair catches his eye.
Who's your friend Viorela? A lady needs and escort. Besides, I didn't get to speak with her much last night.
Tosh drops off his perch and lopes after Quink and Viorela.
"Oye!" As they turn to meet his call,"Forgive my intrusion please, but I've gotten lonesome in this crowd and I could find none of my other friends. Am I imposing?"
Vors steps up, wipes his hands on his tunic, and grasps the hammer. Taking a great overhead swing, he brings it down on the board.
Strength Check:
Borhald grins, and pats his overfilled, yet still lean-appearing belly. He pauses to wash his hands and face at a nearby water barrel before turning to his hosts. "My thanks! Those were damned good potatoes, too. May I impose for a cup of brandy, to aid in their digestion?"
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Vors steps up, wipes his hands on his tunic, and grasps the hammer. Taking a great overhead swing, he brings it down on the board.
Strength Check: 1d20+3
Ash's jaw drops as Vors knocks the marker clear up to the top, with a loud clang from the bell.
Sweet Caroline! What a hit my friend! Desna smiles on you this, her special day!
"Certainly, you don't live far do you?" she asks, with a longing look at the festivities.
"I fear I haven't even had any of the cinnamon buns or the taffy, and I promised I'd indulge... for old time's sakes, of course."
Vestad passes through the fair observing the games of chance and skill. He heads toward the temple looking for the local priests.
Vors
When the marker strikes the bell, it doesn't stop - the marker flies straight through the bell and up into the air, ripping the bell off of the pole. It lands a few feet away with another loud clang. The gathered crowed is in quiet shock for just a moment before erupting into cheers and clapping Vors on his back.
Larz Rovanky, the game's owner, stood for a moment with his mouth open in surprise. "You...wow...um...take your prize and go play something else. This is going to take all morning to fix..." He continues to mumble as he goes pick up the bell. Evelina, elated at the show of strength, picks a play sword and shield from the bevy of choices - there weren't very many typical girl prizes available, but the shield had a beautiful pink flower design on the front. "Vors - thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Evelina says, before running off with her friends. As she's running away, you hear her say, "Stop bandits! You cannot run from a mighty paladin!"
"I just live a few blocks away. It should only take a moment and you can be back in the midst of the revelries with those cretins." At your question, Quink's face lights up. "Ohohoho, what a WONDERFUL question...Yes, the Old Light WAS built for defensive purposes, but not just as a watchtower...no, no, no. It was a war machine, capable of spewing fire into the air and out further than a mile. My research proves it, but no one in this gods-forsaken hamlet will listen to me. You believe me though, don't you? "
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
Hmmm. The real secret is that's it's a con, where I palm the pea. Can't tell him that. Ah, let me try this
Kal my friend. The secret is this. Fast hands, lost of practice, and most importantly, "Halfling Luck". My best advice for you. Don't play festival games for coin. You are a smart and cunning human. Stick with cards, bones and dice.
big smile, relaxed posture.
Now then. The winning are rightly mine. No doubt there. So this gold coin holding one up and letting it glint in the sun. is a gift. Rub it in my palms, and give it a kiss. Perhaps it will hold a bit of Halfling luck. . .perhaps not. No guaranties. toothy grin. but you never know wink. Enjoy your day my good man! Enjoy!
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Well done good Vors, Ash laughs as Evie runs off to be the great Paladin of Flowers, I should be off, I want to give offerings at the cathedral before it gets busy with it's dedication.
---
At the steps of the cathedral, he notices Vestad.
Ah, good Vestad, I see last night's grog had no lasting effects! I am going to pay respects to the Dawnflower. Though I often celebrate her upon her rising and setting, I go to leave offerings at her shrine.
Ash smiles to a young acolyte of Desna that is sweeping the steps and enters the cathedral expectantly awaiting the holy man to follow.
"Of Course, Master Quink," she offers with a smile, offering her outstretched arm to help the man back to his home.
Viorela remembered playing about the Old Light in her youth, chasing the other children around on warm summer afternoons.
"But this of course leaves us with the question of what would they need to defend here? Near Sandpoint? Has any evidence of what was here been unearthed?"
Viorela continues to feed questions to the scholar, sensing his healthy appetite for discussion is not unlike a starving beggar finally allowed to eat a healthy meal for the first time in months.
Vors thanks the spectators for their congratulations and apologizes to the fellow for ruining his game. As Evie tears off into the crowd with her toys, he watches her go, smiling.
At Aeshuura's mention of the cathedral, Vors thinks of going with him, but decides he'll wait to see it when the dedication ceremony happens. Heading back to the Ogre Crusher, he grabs the man's attention.
"How about I help you put this thing back together? Wouldn't want to lose your whole morning's income, not to mention keepin' folk from their chance to beat my record. Just let me know what needs doin'."
"That is a little more of a mystery, my dear." Quink attempts to wink - it merely looks like he's blinking. [b]"You are aware, are you not, of the vast amount of Thassilonian empire's history in this area? It is my belief that our very town of Sandpoint was at one time a stronghold. At that tower, it was a weapon against our enemies. Bah...I could prattle on all day about this. Why don't you come see me another time. You need to get to the festival. Thank you kindly for the walk this far. I can manage on my own from here." He starts to shuffle away. He turns and says with a worried look on his face, "Don't believe what the others say about me. I hold the truth."
The large man looks at you for just a moment. "Yes...that is only right...you will help me. But this is no income for me. Do you not know me? I'm Das Korvut He pauses, and his features soften - but only slightly. "Oh...and...uh...thanks for your help." he says quickly and quietly.
[ooc]Korvut is now Indifferent to you.
"But of course!" the man says. [b]"And may it be the first of many you share with us."
He hands you a mug of frothy mead poured from a large pitcher. It isn't the best you've ever had, but knowing that it's free - and the ones that follow it will be too - make it delicious.
With a polite bow to Quink, Viorela strolls back towards the festival grounds, following the smells of baked sweets.
I must hurry, I don't want to miss the Swallowtail Release.
Borhald sips slowly of the mead, at present using it more as a tonic than as a thirst-quencher. After thanking his hosts, and promising to be back soon, he wanders around the festival sipping from the mug. He aims to get an idea of the town's lay-out, see the sights, and walk off the bellyfull of taters.
"Das, of course! Apologies. I haven't had the opportunity to visit your smithy often. Here, hand me that ladder..."
Vors will work as quickly and efficiently as possible to help get the game fixed. Then he'll grab a couple of ales for himself and Das before bidding the man farewell and heading off to see what else the festival has in store. (Meanwhile, wondering who would adorn their business with such a name. Scandalous!)
As the sun looms high overhead people are steadily directed back toward the stage that was erected outside the cathedral in the town square. Bodies press against one another and children ride atop their parents’ shoulders while their older siblings vie for positions near the front of the crowd. A large wagon covered by a length of canvas has been drawn before the stage by a sturdy horse who’s happily grazing on one end of the pile of hay laying before it while a stray dog naps in the sun using the mound as a makeshift bed. A couple of mischievous youths try to sneak up and peek beneath the corner of covering only to be thwarted by a stern glare from the sheriff standing nearby and, blushing, retreat back into the crowd.
Once again Father Abstalar Zantus takes center stage amidst excited murmurs and hushes the populace with a beaming smile. The priest takes a deep breath and begins a short tale.
“Long ago, when Golarion was still quite young, Desna, the goddess of dreams, fell terribly ill and plummeted from the heavens. It is said she landed in the rolling hills of the countryside, not far from here, where she lay near death for several days. Being the goddess of good fortune as well it is no surprise that she was happened upon by a blind orphan girl, who despite hardly being able to care for herself, worked tirelessly to nurse our ailing goddess back to health, expecting nothing in return. To reward her generosity and purity, Desna transformed her into a swarm of immortal butterflies that forever bring beauty to this world. Today we celebrate that beauty with the release of the children of Desna!" He pauses and quickly tears away the canvas covering the wagon. A furious storm of butterflies spiral outward in a riot of color. All eyes go wide with wonder and laughing children begin futile attempts to capture the beautiful insects, never quite quick enough to succeed. "May Desna bless you with pleasant dreams for the rest of your days, friends.”
Lunch is then served, free, at the expense of Sandpoint’s taverns. Each brings its best dishes, and 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 offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder or the White Deer’s peppercorn venison. Borhald is given a seat of honor at the Risa's Place table and is given a crown with small potatoes forced onto the points.
The afternoon is spent much as the morning was, with a greater emphasis put on touring the chapel and meeting with clergy. As the sun begins to set, Father Zantus takes the central podium once again, uses a thunderstone to attract everyone’s attention. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium. He clears his throat as he prepares to recite the Prayer of First Dreaming.
Suddenly, a woman’s scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises—high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and 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 sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.
Tosh -
Vors -
Borhald -
Viorela -
Vestad -
Tactfoot -
You spot a small shape huddling by a food stall, licking its blood-dripping blade clean. You then spot two more creatures approaching the square. They seem to be preoccupied or unaware of the threat you pose.
"Goblins!" Borhald growls deep in his chest as he sees the little villain slay the hapless canine. In one graceful move he unlimbers his hunting bow as he moves back to offer Viorela some cover. He reaches back for an arrow and quickly shoots at the nearest goblin.
Move action: draw short bow
Free action: 5' step to L13, hoping to offer Viorela some cover.
Standard action: shoot bow at goblin #3
Note: includes bonuses for favored enemy vs. goblinoids
Vestad calls upon the power of Sarenrae and intones a quick prayer. Motes of fire spin over his head. As the final word of the prayer releases them, two motes streak through the air at the goblins.
Fire Bolt at Goblin 2
touch AC fire damage
5' step back to M10
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Goblins continuously raided and looted Tactfoot's small shire during his formative years. Eventually all the families had to flee to various corners of the inner sea region to escape their terror. This drives Tactfoots wanderlust and desire for a permeant residence and long term friends and family.
Tactfoot stands really still, trying to not bring attention to himself. He slowly removes and loads his sling. I'll lay low and let the sword-arms draw them in. Then I'll flank and finish off any that survive
Vestad's fire bolt ignites the goblin's clothing, causing the creature to cry out in what sounds like a mixture of pain and anger. It begins to roll on the ground to attempt to put out the flames. The goblin's cries alert the other two that there are some foes who actually want to fight rather than run away.
Tosh draws his rapier and prepares himself for the coming skirmish.
End Surprise Round
Tosh -
Vors -
Borhald -
Viorela -
Vestad -
Tactfoot -
PARTY AVERAGE: 12
Goblin #1:
Goblin #2:
Goblin #3:
GOBLIN AVERAGE: 9
Vors' militia drilling kicks in and he reflexively falls back to form a defensive line with the others. Pulling his bow free, he smoothly nocks an arrow and sends it sailing towards the nearest goblin.
Attack Roll:
Damage:
"By the Horns! Where did they come from?" Vors cries, surprised to see the creatures in the midst of town. Then a look of horrified realization crosses his face and he looks wildly about.
"Evie! Where are you?!"
How bold these goblins are - I've never seen them inside Sandpoint before!
Viorela instinctively reaches for Borhald's arm, the ranger having taken a step back to protect her. However, she stops herself when she sees the man needs both arms free to draw and fire his bow.
An thickly accented Tian voice echoes in her head - Remember your training...
Of course!
Viorela's lips move to form the syllables as she hopes the incantations work on a goblin. She had only practiced it on Master Prospero himself. Do goblins think like humans?
You brought the knife... another voice echoes in her mind, this one elvish.
Digging around in her backpage, Viorela frowns realizing she had yet to purchase a souvenir this year. She sees the glint of metal and reaches down for it.
no time to be cleaver now Andwell. Let's see if we can increase the odd more in our favor.
Targeting the burning Goblin, he lets loose a sling bullet!
Ranged
Damage
Frik!
Draws dagger expecting mele retalation
Borhald smoothly nocks a gray-feathered, iron-tipped shaft and looses at the nearest goblin! Otherwise he holds his ground in front of the unarmored magus.
Standard action: shoot at goblin #3
Give no quarter! Pharasma's boneyard will sport a few more souls today!
Vestad draws his thin curved blade and once again calls the power of fire, a single mote swirls around his head. "Surrender creature or be cleansed by fire."
touch ac fire damage
Move: draw scimitar
Round 1 Results
Vors' arrow sails through the air and strikes the goblin in its neck. The goblin dies before it hits the ground. Viorela's Daze spell hits the creature just seconds after the goblin dies.
Tactfoot's bullet flies wide of the flailing goblin.
Borhald's arrow strikes the goblin directly through the chest, skewering the small creature to the crates behind it. The goblin looks at the arrow sticking out of it and lets out what sounds like a laugh, followed by a stream of blood and a choked cry. It dies moments later.
The flaming goblin manages to put out the flames and sees another small ball of fire circling Vestad's head. It lets out an angry snarl and stalks towards him, dodging the ball of fire. When it sees him draw the scimitar, he stops short. He looks as if he's trying to decide whether or not to run away. Before he decides, he notices something bright and shiny on the ground - it looks like a cheap prize from one of the many festival games. He bends down, picks it up and attempts to stow it in his pouch.
Round 2
Round 2 Map
Not sensing any other foes behind them, Borhald lopes at the remaining goblin, drawing his sword as he goes. He growls as he hacks at the little brigand.
Move: to O11, drawing on the move (bow still in left hand)
Attack
The goblin doesn't even see Borhald approach, nor does it really feel any pain as the sword rips through its body. Even in death, the goblin has a death grip on its treasure - a large, gold-wrapped piece of chocolate.
There are no goblins in the immediate area, but their singing and havok are audible not far away. Suddenly, you hear what sounds like a loud explosion to your south. A group of goblins has found the cart full of fuel for the bonfire. You rush to explore. Vors leads the way, eager to find his sister.
Getting nearer to the flaming cart, you see it surrounded by four cackling goblins, raising their daggers and hopping up and down in celebration. Standing on a nearby cart is an incredibly ugly goblin with a whip and a dagger. She seems to be something of a leader, yelling words (as far as you can tell) that are inspiring the goblins to continue their destruction. She sees the party approach and yells at the other goblins. They turn to fight.
Tactfoot, more focuses this time, visualizes his sling bullet impacting into the leaders mouth and chocking her words.
He steels himself. Winds up. FIRES!
Ranged sling
Damage
getting better Andwell. Not sure if she's injured, but better
Taking a five foot step away from Viorela (x8) to spread out.
Wanting to break the goblins' morale, Vors draws his bow back again and lets fly at the whip-wielding ugly exhorting them on.
Attack Roll:
Damage Roll:
Now holding her kukri, Viorela felt less vulnerable. In fact, she even felt a little dangerous.
Seeing the next group of goblins causing mayhem and destroying the hard work of the people of Sandpoint stirred something within her. She felt... mad.
Reciting the arcane words again, she concentrated on one of the goblins, trying to penetrate it's simple mind.
"I... I don't understand, why are they attacking Sandpoint?" she manages to ask out loud to the others.
"I... I don't understand, why are they attacking Sandpoint?" she manages to ask out loud to the others.
Tacktoofs soft hazel eyes harden to a cold metallic glare.
Goblins dont need a reason! They burn and pillage; and they
Tosh sets his jaw and, forsaking his rapier, strides up to Vors' side, drawing his crossbow as he goes. He takes aim in both hands and fires at the singing goblin.
Borhald nods in agreement with the others as he returns the sword to its scabbard, then steps up, and fires an arrow to a goblin across the clearing, the one closest to the halfling and the magus. "The little villains pillage and burn for pleasure!"
Vestad closes his eyes and directs the flames consuming the cart. The fire expands next to the closet goblin, pouring over it.
He shouts over the commotion, "Is anyone injured?
touch ac for fire damage
Round 1 Results
Tactfoot's bullet sails wide of its mark. Fortunately, Vors aim is true. The Arrow strikes the warchanter with a thud, knocking it off the barrels and to the street. She sputters for just a moment before dying - a pool of blood forming a ring around her body.
Seeing their leader fall, the other goblins simultaneously begin to lose faith and gain fury.
Seeing that the chanter has fallen, Viorela turns her attention to another goblin, attempting to daze it.
Goblin Will Check:
Remarkably, the goblin is able to shrug off the effects of the spell.
Borhald's arrow zips through the air, striking the goblin square in the chest. It falls into the flames of the burning cart. It is dead.
Flames travel from the cart and collide with the goblin. The creature ignites and screams in pain. It runs in circles for a few moments before falling to the ground dead.
One of the remaining goblins steps to Vors and attempts to slice his stomach open with his nicked and nasty blade.
Attack: for
The goblin's short sword is unable to find its mark.
The other moves towards Tactfoot and tries to do the same.
Attack: for
The attack strikes true, but only barely nicks Tactfoot's arm.
Begin Round 2
Round 2 Map
Borhald once more draws his blade as he dashes behind Vors and then past Viorela, to assault the goblin that wounded Tactfoot.