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  #1  
Old Jan 14th, 2023, 11:30 AM
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Burnt Offerings

It is the first day of Autumn, the start of the harvest season. Normally, a festive time of the season for the sleepy, small town of Sandpoint, this year it is doubly so. Traveling merchants, clergy, nobles, and everyone else from around the region with the coin to spare has gathered in the town square to commemorate the consecration of the newly completed cathedral overlooking the community.

Hasim, you arrived the day before yesterday with a caravan from Magnimar. You, a couple of other clerics of Abadar, and some city merchants looking to make a quick profit are staying in the White Deer Inn, a respectable lodge near the chapel.

Azrael, you arrived 5 days ago, and have been staying at the Fatman's Feedbag. It was supposed to just be a quick stop through town, but you heard about the festivities, and decided to stick around, despite your lodging's shady clientele.

Skones, you arrived in town just this morning. You're clan had recently moved into a complex of caves and caverns situated among cliffs and bluffs overlooking the Varisian Gulf only a couple miles away from the town of Sandpoint. At first, it seemed like an ideal living situation. You had shelter, close proximity to a location to buy necessities, and the wilderness was pletiful in food. However, last night, your clan was attacked by warriors from a goblin tribe. While you helped to fend them off, you have come to Sandpoint to talk with the sheriff about potentially helping to protect your clan.

Tristan, you are in a small offshoot of the Valdemar Manor. While you haven't spent much time with your extended family as of late, your presence at the festival was requested by the head patriarchy of the noble house, your grandfather, Ethram Valdemar.

Utana Vorin, you arrived by ship only last night, and was surprised to learn that there would be a kind of community party just the next day. You had to buy an expensive room in the White Deer Inn as all of the cheaper lodging had all ready been taken in the town had been taken.

Shalara Kali, you are only just now arriving in town alongside some straggling merchants. You can't shake the feeling that you've been followed from the city of your birth. Your worries do lessen when one of the merchants tells you about the festival. You think that you could easily lose a pursuer in the crowds.
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Old Jan 15th, 2023, 05:52 AM
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"Honest" Hasim
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"So it is judged!" Intoned Hasim, finishing his Morning Prayer with a smile. He could feel the Power of Abadard waiting to use him as it's conduit, but there was no reason to assume he would require it this day. Today was a joyous occasion!

His smile increasing at the prospect of the day's festivities (and the profit that such days invariably bring) he left his spacious room in search of breakfast in the Common Room, where he gave his fellow Clerics a respectful nod, and they all shared matching grins, they too were expecting a healthy profit for all.

After a good breakfast, he
Dice Diplomacy:
2d20+8kh1 (17, 9 (keeping 17) )+8 Total = 25
chatted with Garridan Viskalai the Innkeeper while he waited his quartet of workers to make an appearance. Fortunately, they had set up their stalls in a prime spot early yesterday afternoon, so all they needed to do was unpack their actual wares and start selling!

As he rises to leave, he notices the lean-muscled, pink-haired woman who had arrived the previous night. Her clothing seemed to depict a Holy Symbol of some kind, and he frowned as he tried to
Dice Knowledge: Religion:
1d20+8 (12)+8 Total = 20
recall which one it happened to be. He coughed as he realised that he had looked at her for a second or two longer than was gentlemanly and gave her a polite nod.
"I hope you enjoy the festivities." He said equally politely, before leaving to collect the wares from his wagon.
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Last edited by triedtherest; Jan 15th, 2023 at 06:00 AM.
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Old Jan 15th, 2023, 10:31 AM
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Arriving at Sandpoint
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Shalara Kali was not impressed with this situation. It had been a two day walk from her hometown of Magnimar. On foot. That meant, no horses, no carriages, and no servants to bring with her. That was what her aunts and uncles told her to do, and while she normally wouldnít listen they seemed a fair bit more serious than usual. It would almost be worth getting assassinated if I could have at least brought a nice set of clothes with me. Shalara thinks to herself for a moment as she adjust the chain link armor she wears under simple though high quality clothing and a dark cloak lined with dark green fabric. The chain link armor was as uncomfortable as it was heavy, and certainly wasnít her best look.

As Shalara moved into the town closer toward the town square, looking to blend into the crowded festival and see if she was still being followed. Shalara was used to crowds, having grown up in Magnimar for most of her life, but the crowds she was more accustomed to were lessÖ dirty. She wrinkled her nose as she approached the festival, Once Iím sure Iím ok, Iím going to try and find a place with a bath, two days on the road has not been fun. She glances up overhead as she passes by some of the market stalls of the festival, seeing a bird perched up on a nearby rooftop ruffling its feathers. Well at least he hasnít flown off yet, though he hasnít been very cooperative since we left Magnimar Shalarah thought, her falconry glove mostly for show since Vol rarely listened well enough to need it, though at least he followed her this far away from Magnimar. Shalara was just glad that a juvenile roc didnít look too different from a golden eagle, so hopefully wouldnít attract too much attention.

Shalara sighed as she looked back down at the festivities, the local townsfolk going about their business. She tucked a strand of vibrantly red hair back behind her long pointed ears, and started moving around the crowd,
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keeping an eye out, one hand on the light crossbow under her cloak, knowing sheís not out of the woods yet.
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Old Jan 15th, 2023, 09:41 PM
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Evening at the Fatman;s Feeding
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Azrael would have preferred better accommodations, but money was tight and lodging tighter. The Fatman's Feeding would have to do for now. The patrons at the inn were not exactly model citizens. It had common thieves, thugs and adventurers mixed in with the common folk.

It was his fifth night there, but he decided to stay for the upcoming festival. He had sold his latch batch of potions and always on the lookout to find new customers. Tonight, he was sitting at a corner table for better
Dice Perception Check:
1d20+0 (13)+0 Total = 13
view of the inn while eating his evening meal and drink. He hailed down the server and ordered another drink.

"I am Azrael Brimfire. My friends call me Luther. May I have another Honey Mead and this time can the bartender not water it down" The server gave him a long look. "Well, good thing were not friends" and then shrug and headed back to the bar and made some comment to the bartender. ::Great, another who doesn't like Tieflings. I will now have to watch what they serve me next ::

He stayed for a few more hours watching and observing before calling it a night. ::This festival better be worth my time::
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Old Jan 16th, 2023, 08:03 AM
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Valerius Codrin, Druid of the Moon
STR 5(-3), DEX 20(+5), CON 14(+2), INT 13(+1), WIS 14(+2), CHA 7(-2)Stats | HP: 12/12 | HD 1/1d10 | AC 18 | Touch 16 | Flat 13 | Init +6 | | Status: Normal
Fort +4, Reflex +8, Will +2 | Melee -1, Ranged +7, CMB -3, CMD 12 | Speed 20 | Craft (Alchemy) +7, Knowledge (Engineering) +5, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +5, Profession (Soldier) +6, Stealth +6Skills | Common, UndercommonLanguages
Ratfolk: Ratfolk gain a +2 racial bonus on Craft (alchemy), Perception, and Use Magic Device checks.Tinker, Ratfolk gain a +4 racial bonus on Handle Animal checks made to influence rodents.Rodent Empathy, Ratfolk can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet.Senses, Ratfolk are used to living and fighting communally, and are adept at swarming foes for their own gain and their foes’ detriment. Up to two ratfolk can share the same square at the same time. If two ratfolk in the same square attack the same foe, they are considered to be flanking that foe as if they were in two opposite squares.Swarming, Gunslinger: Add a +1/2 bonus on initiative checks when the gunslinger has at least 1 grit point.Favored Class
Gulch Gunner: The gulch gunner gunslinger’s class skills are Acrobatics (Dex), Bluff (Cha), Climb (Str), Craft (Int), Disable Device (Dex), Escape Artist (Dex), Handle Animal (Cha), Heal (Wis), Intimidate (Cha), Knowledge (engineering) (Int), Knowledge (dungeoneering) (Int), Perception (Wis), Profession (Wis), Sleight of Hand (Dex), and Survival (Wis). Skill Ranks per Level: 4 + Int modifier.Class Skills | At 1st level, a gunslinger gains one of the following firearms of her choice: blunderbuss, musket, or pistol. Her starting weapon is battered, and only she knows how to use it properly. All other creatures treat her gun as if it had the broken condition. If the weapon already has the broken condition, it does not work at all for anyone else trying to use it. This starting weapon can only be sold for scrap (it’s worth 4d10 gp when sold). The gunslinger also gains Gunsmithing as a bonus feat.Gunsmith | At the start of each day, a gunslinger gains a number of grit points equal to her Wisdom modifier (minimum 1).Grit 2/2, The first time each round the gulch gunner makes a ranged firearm attack against an adjacent foe and provokes an attack of opportunity, she regains 1 grit point. Making an adjacent firearm attack against a helpless or unaware creature or on a creature that has fewer Hit Dice than half the gulch gunner’s character level does not restore grit, nor do ranged attacks using some ability that prevents the gulch gunner from provoking an attack of opportunity.Daring Adjacent Shot, When the gunslinger reduces a creature to 0 or fewer hit points with a firearm attack while in the heat of combat, she regains 1 grit point. Destroying an unattended object, reducing a helpless or unaware creature to 0 or fewer hit points, or reducing a creature that has fewer Hit Dice than half the gunslinger’s character level to 0 or fewer hit points does not restore any grit.Killing Blow
Traits: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Reflex saves.Deft Dodger, If your hit point total drops to 0 or lower but you are not dead, you may act as if disabled rather than dying (as if you possessed the Diehard feat). However, you can use your actions only to draw a firearm, reload a firearm, or attack with a firearm. If you have the Diehard feat, this trait also allows you to substitute your Wisdom score for your Constitution score for the purpose of determining the negative hit point total at which you die.Never Stop Shooting, Once per day, when you perform a deed that requires an attack roll and you miss with that roll, you can reroll it. You must take the second result even if it is worse.Black Powder Bravado | Drawback: You take a –2 penalty on Diplomacy checks and Sense Motive checks made against all creatures whose religion or alignment differs from your own.Provincial | Feats: Gunsmithing


The forest looked pretty good; the leaves looked nice, nuts were dropping all over. Good times. Skones sat on his riding rat's back, trotting across the land overlooking the cliffs. "Damn goblins," he muttered to himself around a mouthful of acorns. He was decked out in a random patchwork of bigfolk clothes and leather scraps across his back and on his head, with bits of his gray fur poking through loose seams. The only extravagance on him was a polished tin badge, the downward-pointing, speckled triangle of the P'za-bek Warren. In contrast, his giant direrat mount Kugritch seemed to get the sort of attention to fashion that Skones spurned for himself with a set of fine, if worn, leather barding. Every so often he would lean over to feed Kugritch from his bag of nuts before sticking his own snout in it to continue snacking.

The sun was just coming over the horizon when he came to Sandpoint. Hopefully the people here were all right people. It was immediately obvious something was going on. All the bigfolk were swarming, milling around, making a ruckus. I wonder what that's all about. Eh. He came up to the periphery of the crowd, looking to see if he could find someone helpful. The first person that jumped out to his eye was this, uh, whatcha call'em, an elf? Might be an elf. He'd never seen hair like that on a bigfolk, and she was decked out with chain armor. Maybe she was in the same business? She didn't look like she was there to have fun; she seemed as good a source of information as any other.

The ratman hopped off Kugritch's back and gave him the rest of the acorns. It felt rude to demand information mounted, looking down at her (it wouldn't be that far down, but it was the principle of the thing). Skones was a giant among his own people, standing four feet tall, but he still had to look up at this woman. He reached out to tug the edge of her tunic with a grubby paw, and spoke with a gravelly voice that sounded like he'd been smoking every day of his life. "Hey, miss. Yeah, down 'ere. Me and the kids, we got ourselves a problem with some goblins." He put a scornful emphasis on the word and spit on the cobblestones. "I'm looking to find me a sheriff. Hoping to get some pro'fessional courtesy, maybe get us some backup. Damn scumbags sniping at kids, it ain't right. You know where I can find 'em?"

 

 

 
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Last edited by FatherDondo; Jan 16th, 2023 at 08:15 AM.
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Old Jan 16th, 2023, 11:27 AM
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An Unlikely Companion
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Shalara felt a tug at her cloak and turned her head to peer down at Skone and took an involuntary step away from the ratfolk. What in the name of the gods is that disgusting creature! Does it not know that I am the Lady of the Violet Thorn! Shalara's bright green eyes go wide at the filthy humanoid rat. Calm down, don't draw attention to yourself, you're not a Lady out here, not any more. The elven woman, clears her throat, attempting but failing to keep a look of disgust off her pretty features, "No, sorry, I only just arrived in town myself. Frankly I'm not sure what stock I'd put in the law enforcement of such a hamlet as this, though you do have my condolences as to the danger posed to your kin." Shalara prattled off a reply, her training in courtly etiquette kicking in to counteract her distress.

It actually wouldn't hurt to track down a Sherriff, if there is one. Could help dissuade anyone following me from making a move. Shalara glanced back down at Skone, "Actually, if there is indeed a sheriff in this town, I could use their services as well. Perhaps we could find them more swiftly if we looked together?" Shalara looked around the festival square, starting to move through the crowd, keeping just far enough away from the ratfolk that she doesn't brush up against the dirty creature, and subtly brushing the dirt from her cloak where he had grabbed it.
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Old Jan 16th, 2023, 01:30 PM
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Utana VorinThe minor noble had only arrived last night, and the nice bed at the inn was certainly an improvement over the ship's quarters. Plus she had some privacy here. It was a nice change than the last...how long had it been she traveled with the pirates? At least they were honorable...to a degree. They honored her deal with them, at least. She did end up somewhere, and not as a slave or a corpse. That was all she wanted. She'd have to find peace in this town or somewhere nearby.

But there was a festival of some sort in this town! She could easily find merriment. That should keep her occupied while she was here, at least.

She grabbed the floating ioun torch as it hovered by her head and pocketed it. She wanted to keep it around all day, but the likelihood of it getting stolen was high, she suspected, and she'd never catch whoever it was if there were crowds.

Her heavy coat was last. Sure it wasn't necessary for warmth, but if anything should happen, she would be happy for the protection it granted. Protection both from its layers and Shyka themselves.

She was greeted by some other guest of the inn, but let him leave without an answer. It wasn't like she'd be seeing him again...
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Old Jan 16th, 2023, 01:32 PM
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Tristan liked the fair, but this year, the last place Tristan would decide to be was in town. The consecration of the new church dredges up old memories he has failed miserably at forgetting. It is a symbol of the town picking itself back up and moving on. But Tristan isn’t ready to move on, and loves Sandpoint too much to watch it move along without him. And so, instead of finding anywhere else to be on this particular morning, Tristan stays and fulfils a dutiful role, to his family, to Sandpoint.
Festival or not, there were crowds and there were throngs of strangers. This, on top of the general sense of unease Tristan harbors over the entire situation, keeps his suspicion high. Instead of “party clothes” Tristan wears his well-worn cuirass of hardened leather, the evenly spaced bronze studs having long since tarnished green in the salt sea air. It almost looks like it intentionally matches the dark olive colored, long sleeve tunic he wears underneath. On his legs are tight fitting breeches and knee high boots with lots of buttons down the sides. He wears a sword at his belt balanced on the other hip by a dagger and his trusty round shield slung over his shoulder. On his head he wears a blue bycocket hat, cocked only at the sides and back instead of pointing at the front, leaving a wide brim in the front to keep sun from his eyes.
Having put in his social time at breakfast, and knowing he is due to stand with the rest of his extended family later on during the ceremonies, Tristan takes this momentary lull in his obligations to take in the crowds. So many strangers. So many strange people. One conversation breaks through the din, though, as he walks past an unlikely pair of ratfolk and elf. Pausing, he interjects “Belor is going to be busy on a day like today.” Pausing half a breath he clarifies, “The sheriff. He’ll be hard to get a hold of on a day like today. The crowds and all that,” he gestures with a hand wave to everyone around, “all the strangers. Plus he's part of the festival ceremonies. If you come with me I'll introduce you."

Last edited by DraconigenaArma; Jan 17th, 2023 at 05:09 PM.
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Old Jan 17th, 2023, 04:02 PM
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Hasim recognizes the pink-haired girl's holy symbol as that of Shyka, a First World fey god of entropy, reincarnation, and time. It is not commonly worshipped in Varisia.

Azrael is awoken the next morning by the sounds of bells blaring from the cathedral on the hilltop overlooking the town. The yammering of dozens of disjointed conversations drifts in through his window. He can barely make out the call of a child just beneath the windowsill. "Would you hurry up? We're going to miss the opening!" He also hears some muted reprimanding about "not running ahead."

Tristan remembers hearing that Sheriff Hemlock is going to be part of the opening ceremony. If the travelers want to speak with him, the best way to find him would be just after he's done on stage. Suddenly, the sound of trumpets reaches the trio, signaling the start of the opening ceremony.

From his wagon, and from the windows of the common room of the White Deer Inn, Hasim and Utana can clearly hear the trumpets from the stage down the street. The majority of the crowd is gathering in the town square.
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Old Jan 17th, 2023, 11:12 PM
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Utana VorinThe trumpets send a feeling of exhileration down Utana's spine. Not because she has any stake in the festival, but because she wants to have a stake in the festival. It would make her happy.

She hurries out the door, and joins the throngs of people going to the town square, the crowds both exciting her and angering her (Why do they have to be so slow. They're in my way!). Her eagerness is rewarded soon after, when she arrives, though she doesn't get as good of a view as she'd like.

She does get a view of a giant rat man, though. She'd seen a few of them back home. Not many, but enough to know they were excelent at making potions. (She didn't know if this one made potions, but assumed he probably did). "Are you here for the festivities?" She calls out to him, even though he's nearby. "I hope this is a fun festival."
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Old Jan 18th, 2023, 02:18 AM
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SkonesThe rat man scrambled onto the dire rat's back; he doubted he'd be able to keep up with the elf woman otherwise. Hunched over in his saddle, he trundled along through the crowd. There's certainly enough people here. Is the city normally this full, or is it just for the festival? This place is huge. Of course, he drew his share of stares as he rode, but the energy of the festival seemed to be enough to not make as big of a fuss as he was used to.

A girl's voice popped up from the crowd. He looked about until he saw her, a thin, pink-haired human girl in fancy clothes. Does human hair come in pink? He didn't see a lot of humans, so who knew. She seemed innocuous enough. "Uh, not really, no. I came for the law. The kids and me, we got goblin problems, but you don' wanna hear about that. You gots a party here."
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Old Jan 18th, 2023, 01:01 PM
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ShalaraShalara eyed Tristan suspiciously, his bearing and garb suggested he was could be part of the town guard and he seemed familiar with the sheriff. She didn't need to trust him completely but that didn't mean she couldn't accept a little assistance. "Yes, I would like to discuss a few things with the sheriff thank you," she says to the man, still taking pains to avoid being too close to Skone riding the even larger rat without appearing rude.

As the trumpets announced the beginning of the festivities and attentions turn to the stage, Shalara crosses her arms on her chest. Lots of fanfare for a small town festival. Doesn't seem like it takes much to get these commoners all excited though. The festivals in Magnimar were much more spectacular, nevermind the time my family visited Absalom. Now THAT was a party. Her green eyes drifted across the crowd and the stage, up to the rooftops where she met the amber gaze of Vol perched on a nearby peak. Even from this distance his bird eyes seemed almost reproachful in a way that reminded her of her father's disapproving stare. She broke her gaze away from the young Roc and rolled her green eyes, barely concealed in the shadow of her cloak's hood.

Last edited by PaleShadow; Jan 18th, 2023 at 01:05 PM.
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Old Jan 18th, 2023, 02:29 PM
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Tristan looks off in the direction of the square as they walk when the trumpets sound. "Well, we'll have to wait until after the speeches then. But I'll get you a word in either way." He watches the ratfolk and his new pink haired interlocutor out of the side of his eye as he steers the group of visitors in the correct direction. Shalara's guarded nature and her need to see the sheriff all shout warning signs she's in some sort of trouble. Instead of pressing the issue, he decides to keep his distance - figuratively if not literally as they have to walk close enough not to get cut off in the crowd. Plus, he has to remind himself jumping to solve a citizen, or visitor's, problem isn't his job anymore. He helps for hire now...
He stews over how long it's been since he's had to reckon with these kinds of thoughts. Perhaps it's the consecration, the intentional remembrance of the past which is tricking him into dwelling on the life he had before the fire, an old life as much a scaffold of burnt timber as the old church. The new cathedral is ready to be opened today, rebuilt, new, better than before. A monument in defiance of all that was lost. What has Tristan rebuilt in the same time? Breaking himself of his own bitterness he asks her, structuring his question carefully "What name are you going by?"
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Old Jan 18th, 2023, 03:35 PM
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"Honest" Hasim
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Hasim hurried over to open up his Stall, his yawning Workers appearing a couple of minutes later.

"I really shouldn't have waited for you all!" He muttered as they set out the last few items on display. "I KNEW it would start early, so I should have been out even earlier. Hmph! At least we have a good view of everything!"
He gestured around. Their Stalls were slightly elevated, so they did indeed have a good view of the proceedings.
"Very well Gentlemen!" He said to his Staff, seeing that all was ready. "It's Showtime!"

He opened up the Shutters and subjected the Crowd to his stereotypical Merchants
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patter.

"ROLL UP, ROLL UP! COME ON LADIES, COME ON GENTLEMEN, HAVE-A-LOOK, HAVE-A-LOOK! IF HONEST HASIM DOESN'T HAVE IT THEN YOU DON'T NEED IT! VERY, VERY GOOD. VERY, VERY CHEAP!"
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Old Jan 18th, 2023, 11:13 PM
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The Festival Begins
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Azrael woken by the noise of people in the street mentioning the start of the festivities. He quickly cleans up and proceeds out into the streets but not before grabbing some bread along the way for breakfast. The crowd was quite busy and noisy.

He follows many others who all seem to be heading in the direction of the town square. He keeps his eyes and ears open for
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1d20 4
trouble as it seems to follow him.

Azrael saunters in and out of the various venders selling their wares. It kept him occupied for a while. He was able to buy some tea and various delights along the way as he waited for the start. He had managed to make it before the start.

::Lets see what the festival is and can we make a profit here or find some work at a minimum::
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