((Sorry for the delay in replying, it's been pretty busy these last few days.))
Steven Westiron and Kal Templux
Both of you end up traveling the same direction, passing through the square in front of the cathedral, and thus you both earn front row seats to a raging argument between one of the dwarves working the menagerie and the Sheriff, Belor Hemlock.
The Sheriff is wearing an expression of long-suffering patience as he tries to talk quietly to the dwarf, who stomps, waves his arms, and rages with his yellow beard bristling in outrage.
“What do you mean, you won’t look for it? It’s an escaped, dangerous beast! We need to recapture it at once!” The dwarf roars, shaking a fist at the human.
Belor sighs, obviously repeating himself yet again. “It’s not a matter of being unconcerned with the danger, though if it was such a danger as you suggest, I would have expected that it would have been flapping around, lighting everything on fire… like it almost did to the last group that saw it?”
The dwarf bristled. “Believe me, Sheriff Hemlock, that beast is a danger and a menace! If we can’t return it at once to the menagerie-“
“Master Donderstem, let me be clear: Sandpoint does not have so many guards as a larger city, and we’re packed full today with visitors from near and far. I do not have the men or time to go chasing off after your escaped beast, or try to track it down in a town as busy as we are today. If you and your lads want to spend your time looking, you’re welcome to… within the limits of courtesy, of course.”
“How DARE you?! Do you have any idea of how much it costs to run a menagerie as impressive as this? Do you think we have TIME to spend doing YOUR work?”
Belor snorts. “Given Mayor Deverin shared the costs of hiring your troop when she proposed the town pay for your act, I’m well aware of the robbery you claim as poverty. Now, I’ve made my point clear and there is much to see to today. For now, I expect you to make doubly sure that none of the rest of your menagerie manages the same trick – I particularly don’t want that owlbear brute loosed into the crowd, and I’ll have your head if it does get loose, I promise you that, sir.”
Master Donderstem sputters in outrage, but is met by the human’s swiftly receding back as Belor finds another place to be. Growling to himself, the dwarf glares at the watching crowd and snaps. “What? Go away, the menagerie is closed until further notice! If you want a nice reward, if you see a dragonling with tiny wings running around, I’ll make it worth your while. Now go! Get!”
He makes shooing motions and returns to the other two dwarves and the gnome, the four putting their heads together and chatting together quietly in Dwarvern.
Kal lingers in the square after that display, while Steven walks onward towards the east gate. There, a shooting range is set up, letting the people of Sandpoint try the rare and impressive firearms on display there. Steven eyes the weapons critically – they’re battered and small-bored, better suited to hunting then fighting. Firing them has been interesting experiences for the townsmen, producing cries of shock and laughter at ringing ears as the familiar crack of gunfire fills the air.
The man operating the stand is older and grizzled, his short-cut hair salt and pepper and his body whipcord lean. He gives quick instruction gruffly to those taking part, and looks to be taking proper care in preparing each of the guns after they’ve been fired – cleaning out residue and packing a charge and ball for the next to try.
Seeing Steven, he frowns at the cigarette, but relaxes when Steven takes a last drag and drops it to the ground, crushing the last ember under his boot.
“Care to take a shot, outlander? Hit two of the three targets and get a chance to match guns with Dexter Smithson.”
Aloisturm and Kal Templux
Back in the square, Kal drifts towards a simple area bounded by ropes. Within, a woman dressed in simple, severe robes is performing exercises – normally not too interesting, but it’s not every day that he’s seen a person performing pushups with one hand. After several repetitions for each arm, she shifts back to her feet in a simple, flowing motion. Stepping to the side, two men lift a stack of boards onto two sturdy stones. She stops in front of the planks and concentrates. The crowd hushes as they watch her sprint from motionless to strike in a single blurring motion, the loudest sound being the crisp snap of the wood as the boards shatter under her blow.
Walking back to the center, she bows shallowly to those watching her and finally speaks. “I am Sabyl Sorn, Master of the House of Blue Stone. The discipline of Irori allows for many great feats, and mastery of one’s body and spirit. Through mastery, one becomes closer to perfection of the human form.
I now invite those who wish to prove themselves to step forward. This competition is simple. You need only touch me, with hand or weapon, to win. I, in turn, must knock you to the ground. The goal is not to kill the other person, but to show skill and restraint. Why will try first?”
Her voice is surprisingly sweet for such an iron expression as a burly caravan guard swaggers into the arena with her. He draws a serviceable but worn longsword and strikes a guard. “Hah, this will be easy! What do I win when I hit you, missy?”
She regards his swaggering manner with cool disdain. “Access to the House of Blue Stone, and the library contained there…. Not that I expect you read very much… or at all.”
He flushed at her needling. “Bah, for that, I don’t need any reward at all. Raaagh!”
He lunges at her without much skill, but with plenty of enthusiasm. But Sabyl flows like water around his strikes, and suddenly blurs forward, one hand pushing his sword arm even further out, and a leg hooking around his knee. She twists, and he goes from lunging to sprawling in the dirt, his sword skittering away.
She returns to the center and awaits her next challenger. Next to Aloisturm, Bastargre Widdershins is nearly vibrating in excitement. “You have to win, Cons-er… Aloisturm! I’ve been trying to gain access to that library for years! It’s supposed to have all sorts of rare tomes in it that I would love to read! Do win, won’t you?”
As Aloisturm steps into the arena, Widdershins can’t resist making and taking bets on the construct’s chances – though after seeing his performance in the last festival, people seem to be taking Aloisturm far more seriously.
Sabyl raises an eyebrow at the construct and bows shallowly. “I am not sure who you are, but you may have the first blow.”
((Make any adjustments and choose which weapon you want to attack with. Each round, you are trying to land an attack against Sabyl Sorn’s Touch AC. She, in turn, is trying to trip you. Good luck!))
Etoile and Zeratuu
In the library, Etoile indeed finds the book he was thinking of further, and located in the correct spot. He lays it on the table and quickly finds a section detailing kobolds. While the section is small, it discusses general kobold physiology in reasonable detail. One point it makes clear is that while most kobolds have dull, muddy colorations, a rare few are born with the scale colors of chromatic dragons. These kobolds tend to be considered ‘favored’ or ‘lucky’ within the tribe, and tend towards leadership roles and positions of importance. A tiny paragraph speaks of hearsay about an encounter a traveler had with a kobold who had golden scales, but as the beast was swiftly slain and never studied carefully, no conclusions could be made from the tale.
Nothing in the book mentions a kobold with other metallic scale colors such as the kobold sitting across the table, bronze scales shining through places where the red paint has worn off.
For her own part, Zeratuu had explored the library with careful curiosity, sniffing the air as she did so. The place smelled of paper, dust, and faintly of the longlegs. She presumed that this was his nesting cave, and questioned where he slept, and why he paid so much attention to these bundles of plant matter. Then her curious gaze stopped on a lower shelf, and she squeaked to herself. Dwarvern runes! She knew how to read those, at least! She carefully pulled the book out and looked at the cover.
Precious Minerals and Gemstones – Their Properties and Appearances
Curious, she opened the tome, and began to laboriously read the first entry. “Gold is often considered one of the foremost precious minerals, being the most common currency of merchant transactions…”
Caught up in the new experience, her tail whisked back and forth with cat-like satisfaction, passing the time while the longlegs read as well, glancing between the book and her every so often.
Author
Topic: Let’s Play Pathfinder: Rise of the Runelords – Chapter 1: Burnt Offerings (Read 89771 times)