Rise of the Runelords, A Narrative Experiment IC

[TheBarbecueChip]

The Town of Sandpoint

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At dawn on the autumnal equinox the sleepy little town of Sandpoint awakes with a barely suppressed buzz of excitement. It's a festival day, a holiday, and everybody can feel it. The bridges into town creak under the weight of wagon and pedestrian as farmers come in from miles around to enjoy the companionship of their fellow man. Barges and fishing boats alike, along with a single two masted clipper bob gently in the natural harbor at the end of the Turandarok River, abandoned for the day.

Sandpoint's various merchants, as well as several travelers from far afield, set up booths along the main road that hugs the Varisian coast and runs through town. The Lost Coast Road as it is called connects Sandpoint to Magnimar a few days to the south and west, and goes as far north as Windsong Abbey. Today however all roads lead to Sandpoint, in anticipation of the Swallowtail Festival.

Everybody is eager for things to get underway, and as the sun creeps skyward a crowd forms in the square before the new cathedral. A wooden stage has been erected there and on it stand four individuals, three men and a woman. All eyes turn to the stage as the woman begins to speak.

"Welcome, all!" she calls out with a broad smile, "As many of your know, my name is Kendra Deverin and I am proud to serve as mayor of this fine town." She pauses as there is a round of cheering, it would appear that Mayor Deverin is well liked. "It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this beautiful 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 have a wonderful time. 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 has torn himself away from his work to join us today!" A wave of laughter ripples through the crowd and many eyes are turned to a serious looking man dressed in a leather jack with matching well-made boots and wearing a sour expression on his face. Kendra waves to him and continues. "I know everybody is eager to get on with the festival, but if you would indulge us a few moments longer please lend your ears to Sheriff Hemlock."

There is some mild applause and a dour looking Shoanti man, wearing a shirt of mail under a green tabard with a longsword belted at his waist, steps over to the speaker's position. He is broad shouldered, his skin is a deep tan, his head is shaved, and his dark eyes are constantly moving about the crowd. He shakes the Mayor's hand as she steps aside to give him room.

"Thank you Mayor, and welcome again to all of our guests and natives. Here's hoping for a wonderful Swallowtail Festival this year," Sheriff Hemlock begins in a deep, gravely voice. "However, even at this time of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. 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 soberly, the occasional sniffle can be heard in the silence that falls over the square. 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. Tonight at the bonfire, I urge you all to be cautious and vigilant." He raises a finger as if to belabor a point when Mayor Deverin can be heard to cough softly from the other side of the stage. Continuing the motion to rub the top of his bald head the Sheriff smiles awkwardly. "And ummm... Enjoy yourselves... Let me introduce the next speaker; please, give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprieter of our very own Sandpoint Theatre."

Nodding to the crowd, the Sheriff steps away from the center of the stage and shuffles awkwardly to stand beside Kendra. The man who takes his place is quite a contrast to the Sheriff; Cyrdak Drokkus is light skinned with a shock of dark curly hair, his clothes are brightly colored and perfectly tailored in the latest styles out of Magnimar, and he is also sporting immaculately groomed five o'clock shadow. What's more he seems to be positively bursting with excitement and enthusiasm.

"Well, thank you, Sheriff, for that... uplifting bit of 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 a few cheers and whistles go up from the crowd. "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... and then they argued about what color tapestries to hang." Cyrdak pauses for effect and the crowd laughs heartily at his jokes. "I think the Churches may have chipped in a silver or two here and there as well! I even heard a rumor that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up the last four gold pieces we needed to get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Preacher over there is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him kick this whole party off I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to our latest production: 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 fab-u-lous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"

The crowd cheers heartily, and several people wipe mirthful tears from their eyes as Cyrdak combines a deep bow with a sweep of his arms and a backwards scuttle to cede the floor to the final speaker. Father Zantus' traditional robes mark him as a priest of Desna and the plain but well polished wooden holy symbol resting on his chest confirms this. His straight brown hair is beginning to thin and the corners of his eyes have permanent crinkles but he still seems to possess a gentle bit of youthful energy. He smiles and raises one arm, trying to calm the crowd. The middle-aged priest looks noticeably abashed at the reception set up for him, and he shakes a teasing finger at Cyrdak faux admonishing the actor for his antics. Eventually when the applause has subsided he begins to speak in a thin voice.

"Ahem, thank you, thank you Cyrdak," He says with a sidelong glance at the performer, who grins cheekily and waves, eliciting another round of laughter. "And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most holy of days. Today is a day of new beginnings so I won't bore you with another long speech. I would just like to remind everybody that at noon we will be releasing this year's generation of swallowtails in honor of The Great Dreamer, and lunch is being provided, free of charge, by Sandpoint's own eateries. Then at sundown we will be consecrating the new church. So, without further ado, I wish you all a joyous day, luck at the games, and I hereby declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"

A great cheer goes up from the crowd and people begin milling about looking for their friends, all while talking loudly. Children scream happily and race off to find their playmates among the forest of legs. Shouts go up from the various stands and booths as farmers try to sell their goods, performers attempt to wrangle viewers, and various carnival gamers try to entice people to play. The festival quickly swings into high gear with townsfolk, travelers, sailors, and countrymen all thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Characters who are not local may be arriving on the day of the festival or some arbitrary point before it begins. If you have been in town for some time already please note where you have been staying and what, if any, possessions you have left at your lodgings. There are two inns, The Rusty Dragon and the White Tail Deer, but characters could conceivably find lodgings elsewhere as well.

Feel free to invent parts of the scene as necessary to introduce your character and interact with the story. There are all kinds of fun and games going on throughout the day, and a little bit of searching around can find pretty much anyone or anything that might be present. If you feel like you need more information to make your post please just ask in the OC thread.

[Ramsus]

Seirsha had been in town for two days already, staying at the White Tail Deer inn because she preferred the name to the other one which she already forgot the name.
She initially planned on only staying for a day to comb the beach and nearby woods for potentially interesting rocks or bugs (she found a big stag beetle of a kind she hadn't before in the woods and horseshoe crab at the beach, the beetle is currently hanging around on the brim of her hat to the amusement of many small children) before moving on. But she heard about the festival and remembered in the evening she was supposed to greet Brodert Quink. So she decided to stay for the event. Then forgot about the sage the next day while she continued her search of the town.

While standing in the crowd, still carrying the massive pack on her back like she has since she left home, she suddenly remembers the sage's name (because of all the introductions) as she listened to the people on stage talk with mild.

But there's no time for that right now! If she wants to examine those swallowtails in detail, she needs to get to them before they're released!
So she follows after Father Zantus, who no doubt is engaged with other people. He probably wouldn't even be able to see her over the crowd if it weren't for her pointy hat sticking up out of it. When she finally does get his attention she greets him with a smile, "Good day Father. My name is Seirsha Garnet. If it's not too much trouble could I examine the swallowtails before they're released? I've heard the ones you have here are particularly lovely."

[ArchivesRat]

The phrase "kid in a candy store" could describe Kith at the moment. Dozens and dozens of people streaming in from all around. People who had yet to learn of Kith's reputation. People with money.

In time Kith would break out his thumb-blade and start slitting purses, but not yet. Better to wait until the celebrations are well underway and everybody was well soused. For now, it was time to play the dutiful son and escort his mother around the festivities. Now was a good time to grab bargains at the stalls -- always a good idea when living on limited means.

Kith passed through the stalls, ignoring the suspicious glances from locals, gazing wistfully at honey cakes. No one would trust him enough to play the festival games - not after two years ago when he figured out how the "test of strength" was rigged and managed to win despite his unimpressive build. For the moment he carried packages of second-hand clothes and sundries for his mother.

[UselessBlob]

Watzel was practically buzzing with anticipation over being able to see the festival. Food! Drinks! Games! More drinks! Watzel counted his coins and adjusted his goggles, preparing to run about the town as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him and see what he could see.

Rather, that's what he was doing in his mind. In truth, the young gnome was sitting behind the counter of a beer stand in the town square, taking inventory for the third time. Once he had confirmed again that nobody had nicked any kegs or cups in the last three minutes, he sighed. Why did the Magravis have to make him work on the festival of all days? Sure, they were working too, but...

"Aww, I can't be selfish. Plenty of people are working today. At least I have a lunch break!" Watzel said to nobody in particular. Slapping his cheeks and standing on his stool, Watzel took in a big breath and started to pitch his wares.

"DRINKS, DRINKS, COME GET YOUR REFRESHING BEVERAGES HERE! WE GOT ALE, CIDER, JUICE FOR THE KIDDIES! ONLY ONE SILVER!"

[The Hellbug]

Olivier cheers with the rest of the crowd at Father Zantus's greeting before dispersing with the rest of the crowd, heading in no direction in particular for now. He meanders throughout the main thoroughfare, purchasing a snack here, watching a bit of a performance there, happy that, given the mood and the crowd, he can get away with only the barest effort of covering up his fiendish heritage--more room to relax and enjoy oneself. As he walks by a pair, one singing a bawdy tune while the other accompanies with a fiddle, the tiefling briefly regrets leaving all but the barest essentials back at his room at the Rusty Dragon, but he closes his eyes and scolds himself for the thought:

Not today, Olivier; today's for relaxing and you'd wear yourself out lugging a lute about. There's too much to see to tie yourself down like that.

He is startled from his internal admonition, though, when a small boy collides with him in the crowd with a yelp. Olivier opens his eyes to the child on the ground and the telltale jingle of a dropped coinpurse as a dozen coppers roll off into the crowd to be lost underfoot. Olivier stoops down to stop a few of them as the boy tearfully scrabbles around, trying to recover what he can of his surely carefully-saved fortune. "There, there," the tiefling comforts the child, dropping all but one of the coppers into his hand, "No one in the whole world's a stranger to bad luck, but the thing about it is--" he presents the final coin before making a series of flashy hand gestures, in the meantime dropping it into his pocket "--it's always ready--" he shows the boy his empty hands to the child's surprise "--to turn around." He completes the trick by seemingly pulling a silver piece from behind the kid's ear with a grin. "Sometimes you just need to know where to look for the turn," he finishes, slapping the coin into the boy's palm before walking away into the crowd, "enjoy the festival, lad."

That distraction finished, though, the tiefling finds himself wishing he had kept track of where Cyrdak went after the opening announcement--he had meant to inquire more about the following day's performance since he had missed it in Magnimar.

[TheBarbecueChip]

The day is shaping up to be a pleasant one with a light breeze blowing in from the gulf. Sandpoint's narrow streets and market squares are all packed with festival goers and seemingly everybody is in a jovial mood.

Father Zantus returns Seirsha's smile warmly and beckons her to follow him. As the priest leads her through the crowd Father Zantus asks Seirsha about why she wants to see the swallowtails and tells her the parable of Desna and the blind child, in between returning the waves and friendly greetings of the people of Sandpoint. Eventually the pair comes to a stop beside two wagons being kept in an enclosure near one of the town's stables.

A man in a guard's tunic rests in the shade of the nearby building and nods to Father Zantus. The priest waves and greets the man warmly before leading Seirsha to one of the wagons which has a canvas covering over a tall cylindrical cage. Just as Father Zantus goes to reach into the cage to get a butterfly for Seirsha to examine the guardsman gives a shout and a trio of giggling children go scampering away from the second wagon. "Fuel for tonight's bonfire," Father Zantus explains. "I'm sure the Magravi Boys were hunting for sticks suitable for sword play," the older man says with a twinkle in his eye.

Father Zantus turns back to the wagon with the butterflies and carefully retrieves one for Seirsha, cupping it gently in his hands before passing it over. "After the release I have no doubt that the children will spend the rest of the day chasing butterflies, but you have to be crafty and quick to catch a swallowtail."

Festivals are days where nothing is quite normal. Some people who would normally scowl and curse at Kith smile and wave to him and his mother. Others who normally don't think much of him at all watch him closely as though just waiting for an excuse to call the guards and have him thrown in one of the Sheriff's cells for the day. Still there are so many strangers and people from the farms and ranches in town that most of the faces Kith sees are actually unfamiliar. Usually the young miscreant can go a whole day or in some seasons all week without seeing a face that he doesn't recognize.

The guards, who strut about puffed up on their self importance, all seem to have saved up a glare just for Kith, but none of them say anything. Despite the festival atmosphere the guards are on the lookout for just the kind of collecting Kith was planning to do later, although the big blockheads would have to learn a thing or two before they could catch Kith, or any other thieves, with anything but sheer dumb luck. In fact, Kith noticed a few Varisians managing to lurk about while looking innocent. Nothing really to see but still Kith recognized a kindred spirit, and light fingers.

The orders come thick and fast. Festival going is hard work, between the games, the sun, and all the talking, everybody wants a drink to wet their throats. Even the stray dogs that roam Sandpoint's streets and alleys come by to beg for a bowl of water at the booths, and several of the kindhearted vendors take pity on the beasts.

Watzel was pretty sure he served all of Risa's regulars at least once and got swamped by new faces to boot. People love to chatter and Watzel catches snippets of all the usual town rumors being spread between natives and strangers alike. It's nothing that he hasn't heard before really. Sheriff Hemlock is shacking up with Kaye Tesarani, the madam over at the Pixie's Kitten. Titus Scarnetti, head of one of Sandpoint's oldest and most influential families, is throwing his weight around in the Mercantile League again. Lonjiku was supposed to give a speech to open up the festival but he decided it was beneath him, so Cyrdak has to do it.

What isn't so run of the mill however are the thing Watzel hears from the farmers and ranchers that live in the hinterlands around Sandpoint. Apparently something has got the goblins all stirred up. People are locking their doors and shutters at night, and sleeping with weapons close at hand. This is in pretty sharp contrast to what the towns folk say, which is that there hasn't been a goblin spotted scrounging around Junker's Beach in weeks.

The child smiles and laughs at the trick and even remembers to say his thanks before running off to play. A local claps Olivier on the back and tells him that one good turn deserves another. However, when the tiefling stands and turns around the speaker startles for a moment. He stutters attempting to hide his reaction and orders Olivier a drink, but then quickly makes his way through the crowd. Olivier isn't too surprised. He gets that about once in every ten people. Some of the truly rude ones will make comments about Chelaxians and demons before departing, not even bothering to notice Olivier's actual heritage.

But the mood is merry and even those who seem to recognize something just a little bit off about Olivier seem willing to ignore it on this day. The aspiring performer need not have worried though, Cyrdak is not hard to find with a few questions and pointed fingers. The man is making an absolute spectacle of himself, entertaining a mixed crowd of both children and adults with various antics at a small stage set up just outside the theater itself.

So I will admit I'm rather bad at communicating the passage of time, especially in a PbP game. At the moment feel free to explore as much or as little of Sandpoint as you like. If people are enjoying/want to continue with the scene we can do that, or we can skip to lunch, where food is provided by the town and the tone of the scene might shift a bit to allow Kith and Watzel to interact with it more directly as indicated in their posts, or we can move on to our first action set piece in the evening.

[Ramsus]

"Oh, I study them. Uh, bugs and animals and rocks and ruins. Not swallowtails specifically." she responds slightly awkwardly.

Seirsha seems to hardly notice as Father Zantus explains about the children or really even seems to notice the children themselves for that matter. Her attention is completely focused on the butterflies. She gives him a big bright smile when he hands one over though. Taking it gently with one hand she makes a little swirling motion with her other and whispers out a short phrase and a dim glow momentarily falls on the butterfly.
She then takes off her hat, revealing her slightly pointed ears just barely poking out of her hair, and then places it down nearby. Then she places the calmed butterfly upon the back of the stag beetle and takes a book out from her pack. She spends the next several minutes jotting down notes and drawing, occasionally poking at the beetle or butterfly itself to get different angles. When she's done she finally remembers Father Zantus exists and says, "Very lovely, especially the vibrant blue. I can see why you would include them in a festival. May I....." she hesitates and then continues, as if she was asking for some out of proportion favor, "May I keep this one?"
Assuming he says yes, she puts her hat back on and she is now wearing a hat, which is wearing a beetle, which is wearing a butterfly.


You didn't specify so I just decided it was a tiger swallowtail.

Personally I'm more than happy to do several more posts in this scene. There's a lot of different things Seirsha would like to do here. But if other people want to move on that's fine too.

[ArchivesRat]

Kith stifles a sigh. He envies the Varisians. They slip through the town like sand through the fingers. And then they leave. What must it be like to just go wherever you want, wandering away from your problem and starting over wherever you feel like? Freedom.

As the day passed, Kith's mother changed from customer to merchant. Kith hauled her recent catch - salted or live - to the restaurants and stalls. Heaving buckets of struggling sea bass and bluefish was enough to keep him distracted for a time. The locals appreciated both the quality of the wares and the service and paid well, so Kith was willing to do his part. The left-overs would go to Valdemar Fishmarket where it would likely go to taverns for the evening meal.

That job done, his mother planted a kiss on his forehead, placed a few coins of spending money in his hand and sent him off. She was now headed to the harbor to swap tips, advice and unbelievable stories with visiting fishermen. On his own devices, Kith kept his eyes open for Varisians working the crowd. Maybe he could pick up some tricks if he kept his eyes open.

[The Hellbug]

Olivier sighs as his surprised benefactor uncomfortably slinks away. Can't win them all. Probably something ironic here but maybe I'm grasping.

The tiefling only nurses his drink as he is directed to Cyrdak's performance, mentally workshopping if he can find a way to turn a child being tempted by a demon into some sort of comedic act on the way (obviously the demon has to be outwitted and made to look foolish, but how?). Once there he enjoys the show until he finds a break in the action to slide his way through the crowd to the resting performer. "Cyrdak Drokkus?" the bard inquires with an outstretched hand, "Olivier Brun, I heard about you from some acquaintances in Magnimar--that your theater is much more than you'd expect from this town, here--so I supposed I'd introduce myself, especially since I missed The Harpy's Curse's run there! How do you do?"

[UselessBlob]

Watzel let out a sigh of relief when he finally ran out of alcohol to sell. He knew that a drink booth would be popular on a hot and busy day like this one, but the sheer volume of customers had threatened to overwhelm him. Fortuitously, Watzel had thought to take a speed mutagen with him to work that day. Sure, it made it a little harder to focus and caused slightly freaky looking swelling in his limbs, but the effects were temporary. Besides, nobody could argue that it didn't work. By taking two customers at once, Watzel had managed to serve at least twenty in five minutes flat (or so he thought. He hadn't exactly slowed down to count.)

Once the last keg ran dry, Watzel informed the still sizable line that he had to go back to the tavern to get more. They groaned but dispersed as he chained the cups to his belt and hopped off of his stool. Watzel looked around at the festivities going on around him and sighed again. It wasn't quite time for break, but there was so much he wanted to see! Watzel was about to take off when an idea came to him. With a sly grin he stated (again to no-one) "Oh my! There's so much commotion! How could a newcomer like me ever find his way back through all of this! Guess I'll just have to wander around until I find the tavern." Watzel did indeed intend to return to work. He wasn't some kind of slacker, he was just... "Oh hey, a glassblower!" And with that he had completely forgotten what he was doing.