
Deskari, Lord of Locusts |

16 Arodus, 4713
For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres—Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.
Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral. It is here that our would-be heroes find themselves, unaware of the disaster that will soon strike.
Take this opportunity to describe what you do during the festival; there are drinks and games, food and music, cheap and useless, but pretty, trinkets being sold for as cheap as 1 sp.

Gadlan O'Laughlin |

Gadlan O'Laughlin pushed through a small bundle of crusaders and slapped a hand on the bar top. He locked eyes with the person working the outdoor ale stall and lifted his hand to reveal the copper coins. Apparently, they were too busy helping other patrons because the coin was never replaced with mug and after what seemed like an eternity in the Arodus sun, Gad scooped up his coins and pushed back through the crowd in search of a vendor who wanted his money.
“Excuse me, folks,” Gad said as he placed a hand on the back of one of the crusaders.
Gad gripped the shaft of his halberd and used it as a walking stick as he made his way across Clydwell Plaza. Gad peered up at the cathedral and his father’s voiced echoed in his mind:
“You’ve wasted enough time. You should’ve been on several expeditions into the Worldwound by now. Once Armasse is over, you’re heading out with the first group that will take you!”
Gad sighed and scanned the stalls for someone selling ale who also did not look overwhelmed with the crowds. At 6’1”, Gad didn’t have too hard of a time seeing over heads but every now and then a particularly towering brute would block his view.

Khry'barakt |

A much smaller figure, Khry pushes her way through the crowds’ legs. A gnome’s short stature is a significant disadvantage when it comes to being noticed, but that’s all the better to this particular gnome. Her dark grey tattoo’d skin and pure white hair was usually enough to attract attention, but not today, not in this crowd.
”Why did I decide to come to this…’event’ again?”
Finally reaching a relative safe spot inside of the throng of people, she bumped up into the back of an unsuspecting human. Apparently she needed to watch where she was going.
”Hey, you! Why are you just standing in the way there?”
Neither the scythe on her back nor the bone-studded leather she wears makes Khry out to be any sort of an actual threat, but something seems just a tad bit off about her.

Raban Kwazeeli |

It's a good thing that the Crusaders of Kenabres take all types: it seems difficult to stand out in the city that has stood against the bulwark against the worst excesses of the demonic hordes. A masked, dark-skinned dwarf ambles around Clydwell plaza, a bear cub pawing around behind him.
"Watch your bear, dwarf!" someone calls out as the bear sticks his nose into a barrel of salted fish.
"Ah, forgive me, good sir. Olapa, down."
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
The bear immediately backs down from the barrel and returns to the dwarf, who rubs gently on the underside of her chin.
"If you want something to eat, I can pay for it," he chides gently, reaching to a small coin purse and fishing out a few coppers to hand to the man.
"Funny mask you've got there," says the merchant as he takes the coins. "You know Armasse ain't exactly a masquerade-type event."
"Oh, no, of course! No, this mask is a mark of my office."
The merchant stares down from his stall for a moment, blinking several times. "You look like a turtle."
The dwarf leans back and laughs, drawing a few stares from nearby festival-goers who quickly return to their usual merriment. "I can see that. This is a representation of the mighty Chelonidal!"
The merchant's face goes pale and he coughs, handing the fish over. "Nidal?" he says warily, cursing under his breath. "The Crusaders must be desperate if they're getting into bed with those sadists."
The dwarf erupts into a fresh round of jovial laughter. "Aha, no! I have heard of the Avistani nation of Nidal, but I assure that that the Chelonidal has no relation!"
A bit of color returns to the merchant's face and he shrugs, clearly losing interest in the conversation that the dwarf seems interested in peddling. "Mmm. Enjoy the festival."
The dwarf bows. "And you as well, master fishmonger! Come Olapa, let us find a good seat for the joust!"
As he makes his way across the plaza, he watches a gnome run face-first into a tall gentleman who has every appearance of a crusader. As a confrontation looks possible, he walks towards them. Especially in a place dominated by the tall, the smaller folk of the world needed to look out for each other.

Gadlan O'Laughlin |

A small figure bumped into the back of Gad and pulled him back to the present. “Sorry, I didn’t mean t-“ he paused as his gaze dropped to meet the glare of a gray gnome, “to be in the way.” Gad took a slight step back to get a better look at the gnome. “Aren’t you supposed to be bright pink and red and…oh cyan?” Gad reached out to flick the cruel looking scythe the gnome had behind her but hesitated at the last moment. Something just seemed off about this particular gnome.
Before giving her a chance to respond, Gad spied an approaching dwarf. A large grin spread across his face, “Ah! Are you two traveling companions? Adventurers come to see to celebrations?” A hint of distaste colored the last word. For the smallest of moments, his demeanor soured but just as quickly it vanished.
“Or should I say three?” Gad added when he saw the bear cub. He knelt and extended a hand to the animal, “Can I pet your bear?” Gad spared a glance to the dwarf, “I know some people are more protective than others.”

Khry'barakt |

Khry stares flatly up at Gad, listening as he talks about what color she should be.
”What, is something wrong with my-“ she is cut off by the arrival of the dwarf and his companion. She eyes the new arrivals up, interested in what kind of bond the man and animal may have.
”I don’t know this dwarf or his beast.” she says, almost apathetically, before being sure to give the animal a wide berth. ”And I apparently like celebrations as much as you do, with that tone. Perhaps we can agree on that.”

Raban Kwazeeli |

Raban walks up and looks confused at the human's questions (though with his face masked the confusion is nigh undetectable. The gnome speaks before he does there, and he nods and laughs, bowing his head slightly. His voice is deep and mirthful as he responds.
"Indeed I am afraid you are mistaken, bug do not fret! Even if I were to remove my mask, I doubt this gnome would know my face. I am merely passing by. But as for my bear-beast, this is Olapa! She enjoys scratches under the chin and behind the ear."
The bear is curious and walks up to sniff Gad's hand. Although her fur is brown all around, she has patches of white that appear like crescent moons.
"It seems I chose an auspicious day to arrive. I am curious about the traditions here. We do not have jousting where I come from."

Khry'barakt |

”Passing by in a place like Kenabres? No one just passes by in such a place. What are you doing this far from your home?” Khry can obviously tell he isn’t from around here, and that makes her suspicious.
”Where is this species of bear even from?” she asks, still maintaining a safe distance from the animal.
Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Raban Kwazeeli |

Khry recognizes this as a species of bear from the Mwangi Expanse often called the Terwa bear or Mwangi bear. In the more scientific nomenclature of universities like Leipdstadt, it would be called Ursus arctos crowtheri. Terwa bears are known to be comfortable in mountainous regions, but are not found in other parts of Golarion.
"Ah, yes, I pass by you. Perhaps there is a better Taldane word for that. To Kenabres I come quite specifically to offer my talents at fighting demons and continue my training."
Raban senses the suspicion but seems to pay little mind.
"Olapa is from the Terwa Uplands in the western Mwangi. I recently rescued her from some followers of Angazhan. It was part of my training at the Magaambya to seek out a cell of demon worshipers and disrupt their activities. She travels with me now, and it is my call to raise her well!"

Gadlan O'Laughlin |

“Olapa. Good name for such a fearsome beast!” Gad said as he scratched behind both of the bear’s ears. “No doubt she’s a sight to see when a fight breaks out. I bet I’m not the only one that gets frustrated with all of the people crowding the city streets.” Gad raised an eyebrow at the gnome as if to say “We can.”
The man rose and nodded in agreement with the gnome as she asked her questions. “Ah, so you’re a crazy person,” he said when the dwarf explained himself. Gad smiled in amusement and leaned on the halberd, ”That makes more sense given that that’s generally the type of person who come to Kenabres. What with the ever looming demonic horde gathering a mere stone’s throw away waiting for their chance to tear us all limb from limb and feast on our innards as they swarm across the land.” Gad gave slight waves and nods to the passersby as he spoke, never breaking cadence.
“Well, if you’re set on venturing into the Worldwound,” he looked to the gnome and the dwarf, “I’m heading to meet with some crusaders. You’re more than welcome to join me.” He held a hand out in front of himself, "Name's Gadlan O'Laughlin or Gad if you'd prefer."

Raban Kwazeeli |

Olapa nearly purrs with the ear-scritches, and Raban chuckles low. "Crazy is relative, but I accept the compliment! I do not intend to become a demon's appetizer."
As Gad introduces himself and offers an invitation, Raban bows deeply. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gadlan O'Laughlin. I am Raban Kwazeeli." He pauses for a moment, trying to make sense of Gad's nickname and respond in kind. You can probably tell that he is translating what he is hearing into at least two other languages. "Raban is fine, and I would be quite pleased to meet with more seasoned veterans!" He turns and looks at the gnome. "What of you, mistress gnome the yet-unnamed? What brings you to Kenabres?"

Khry'barakt |

"Quite a long way away from home, at that." Khry remarks, upon remembering the facts about the bear. "Quite the interesting animal friend you have there."
"Most of the people in this city are crazy, I'd wager. Takes a certain kind to volunteer to face certain death every day willingly, hmm?" she stops and laughs for a moment, the first sign of emotion you've seen out of the strange gnome.
Khry watches the dwarf introduce himself, watching the exchaneg and bow with genuine interest before taking her turn.
"I am Khry'barakt, druid of the Forest of Stones. Khry is what most people call me. I am in Kenabres on personal research business. Was hoping to make it to the Library before this festival started, but I appear to have been too late." she looks around at the crowds in disgust before noticing Gadlan's hand, and doesn't take it.
"It's somewhat pleasant to make your acquaintence as well. I wouldn't mind a little more protection, I suppose. May as well group up, or I might get lost in this crowd." This last part is said only partially jokingly.

Raban Kwazeeli |

Though his smile his hidden behind the mask, Raban beams. "Ah! Thank you." The cheer from Khry's compliment towards Olapa is audible in the dwarf's voice as he continues in their uncommon tongue.
Knowledge (local), the Forest of Stones: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
The Stonewilds? This gnome must have seen a lot. Although his demeanor remains jovial, an air of respectful solemnity edges Raban's voice as he continues.
"Well met, Khry'baraky of the Forest of Stones. I am cheered to know that any with memory of the old ways or Sarkoris yet survive."

Khry'barakt |

Khry is somewhat shocked to hear Druidic, almost as if she wasn’t sure Raban was actually a druid. In a more reverent tone, she replies in the tongue of the Druids.
”There are precious few of us left uncorrupted and alive, but the fight still continues.” she continues in Common, a great deal of pain and loss evident in her words. ”We have not given up yet; nor will I, until my very last breath.”

Gadlan O'Laughlin |

Gadlan kept his hand proffered Khry's obvious refusal. He shrugged and let his hand fall back to his side. Gad considered asking what kind of research she could possibly be doing in Kenabres but, given that there was only one real major topic in the city, he let the question go unspoken.
The man leaned in, straining to understand as the gnome and dwarf exchanged words in a strange language. Languages had never been his forte. Nor has anything else that generally relied on being academically inclined. Not that Gad was a simpleton, there had simply been little time for a formal education growing up.
"Wait, you're actually from Sarkoris?" A shadow fell over Gad's eyes, "I am truly sorry for what has happened to your home." Gad gestured in the direction of the keep that housed the wardstone, "I know the Wardstones protect the world from those abominations but they do little for the people trapped behind the barrier."
Gad sighed and turned back to the others, "Well, Khry, Raban, Olapa," he nodded to each as he said their names, the bear included, "hopefully we join up with a strong group and do some good on the front lines. Shall we get going?"

Khry'barakt |

Khry's voice weakens a little, as if the strain of her past was weighing heavily on it.
"Yes, I am...I was from Sarkoris. Old Sarkoris, from before the demons swallowed the land whole. It was a beautiful place."
She turns towards Gad and nods solemnly. "This might sound harsh, but don't worry too much about the people on the other side. Most of them are not the people they used to be, if they're even people at all."
"I think the festival should start soon, no? Let's go see those friends of yours before the streets get too crowded and we lose ourselves in it. We can talk and share stories of our past another time."

Raban Kwazeeli |

Though he is a fairly well-learned dwarf, Raban doesn't know the full implications of what Khry is talking about. All that he knows is that the Green Faith used to have a significant presence in Old Sarkoris before...all of this. The diviners at the Magaambya had tried to establish contact with their old allies when they heard of the Abyssal invasion, but their best efforts were repeatedly foiled. It was easier to assume that everyone was dead. Now there were simply rumors and cautionary tales passed around. Naturally it was the uncertainty of all of this that drew Raban in--and north. Khry's cryptic words imply that they were worse than dead. Raban suppresses a shudder
"I would like to hear stories some time," he offers. "Of the before lands. But before then, let us find some Crusaders to get signed up."

Khry'barakt |

"I would love to sit and talk for hours about the history of my people and the customs of the land that once was. But now is not the time for it, I think. Let's plan to meet up after this festival is done, and maybe we can find some time to discuss such matters." Even while talking about meeting up and sharing stories later, Khry is somber and quiet, as befits the topic.
"Where would we happen to find these crusaders of yours, Gadlan?"

Gadlan O'Laughlin |

”Supposedly,” Gad began, “they’re supposed to be somewhere around here. Near the cathedral.” Gadlan stopped to look around the square. So many people milling about and enjoying their day. It always caught him off guard when the people of Kenabres acted like normal people of other cities. When they forced themselves to forget about the demons and the horrors that had brought them all to this city at the edge of the world.
He didn’t hate Armasse. Most years he loved it. And he always knew that he’d wind up on the frontlines someday, he had come to grips with that in his early teens. The fact that Gad would more than likely die fighting some abyssal creature no longer bothered him. But it was always “tomorrow” that he was going. Now, with a definite timeline, it felt real. Was he scared? Possibly. Who wouldn’t be at least a little scared knowing that they were about to take the first step to their death and possible eternal torture?
Gad cleared his throat and pointed to a banner flapping in the wind. The banner had been erected higher so it could be seen above the crowds but lower than most of the others, ”See that one there? The one with Iomedae’s symbol on the gold and red background? That’s them.”