Rise of the Runelords, Session 1: Ch. 1, Burnt Offerings

<@Aqu|GM> --- Rise of the Runelords, Session 1: Chapter 1,  Burnt Offerings ---
<@Aqu|GM> A simple, relatively peaceful town with all the color and common oddities one expects from a tightly-knit community, Sandpoint sits at a point on the Lost Coast halfway between Magnimar and Windsong Abbey. Wood buildings and cluttered docks line the town’s natural harbor, while farms and the manors of wealthy citizens dot the countryside.
<@Aqu|GM> During the day, fishing, farming, lumbering, glassmaking, and shipbuilding occupy most of the townsfolk, who commonly retire to their homes by way of Sandpoint’s many taverns.
<@Aqu|GM> A playhouse and would-be museum make unusual attractions in such a small community, but Sandpoint’s true landmark is the Old Light, a lighthouse of ancient origins that lie in ruins. Sandpoint has nonetheless had its share of troubles.
<@Aqu|GM> The fading scars of a recent terror still linger, a time most folk refer to as the Late Unpleasantness. Just over five years ago, a madman stalked the streets of Sandpoint, killing dozens. Known as Chopper, the killer’s month-long terror ended when an eccentric local artisan was revealed as the murderer and was killed during his attempted capture.
<@Aqu|GM> Adding to the pain, less than a month later, the local chapel burned to the ground in a conflagration that nearly consumed the town’s northern half and left the local priest dead.
<@Aqu|GM> Emerging from the shadow of these events, though, Sandpoint has healed and rebuilt, with many townsfolk viewing the coming dedication of a new church as a symbolic end to the healing and return to normality.
<@Aqu|GM> Are you here, in Sandpoint for the Swallowtail Festival, commemorating a symbolic rebirth and end to the darkness? Are you here, simply traveling? Or perhaps you are visiting long-unseen friends. Whatever the reason, you arrive in town during this event, led by Father Zanthus.
<@Aqu|GM> Now, the new cathedral is finally done. All that remains is for the Swallowtail Festival to renew the site’s blessings from the gods and it will be as if the Sandpoint Fire had never occurred. You have come to attend the festival on the first day of autumn, along with your personal agendas.
<@Aqu|GM> The square before the church quickly becomes crowded as locals and travelers arrive, and several merchant tents featuring food, clothes, local crafts, and souvenirs are there to meet them. Within the center of the town, at the head of the chapel, four keynote speakers are preparing their speeches, which will be delivered within the hour.
<@Aqu|GM> Jovial townsfolk talk and meander about, while a few of the playhouse's local bards sing tales of merriment. Everyone seems to be in good spirits, and the festivities are only starting.
<Harvey> Wandering among the crowd is a hooded figure, wrapped in a black cloak. In his hand is a small package, which he seems very keen on keeping track of. He moves slowly, weaving through the various merrymakers as he heads towards the newly built church.
<Harvey> A similar cloaked figure is also just now making their way through the gate of the town. A clearing female figure is wrapped in a large, grey traveling cloak with a stained, wooden mask to hide her features. Behind her is a massive suit of solid black plate mail, walking in step with her.
<@Aqu|GM> In front of the church, there is a platform made for the speeches. Father Zanthus, an old but fairly-built priest, seems to be looking through his notes, while Mayor Deverin, a plain looking, but pleasant, woman converses about the festival events with Sheriff Hemlock, a stern, tanned warrior.
<@Aqu|GM> Crowds seem to part for the suit of armor, but remain in good spirits, seeing it as a sign of the Church's universality and its appeal to all.
<Harvey> The black cloak makes his way to the three people, his hood pulled up and his head tilted down, doing his best to make sure no one can see his face. Approaching the platform, he pauses, before beginning to stride towards it purposefully.
<@Aqu|GM> Sheriff Hemlock notes the stranger approaching and moves away from the mayor. His gaze is stern, though not -entirely- unfriendly. "If you need to see the Mayor or Father, it can wait until after the speeches are made."
<Harvey> The masked figure seems to be enjoying herself, youthful female laughter coming from behind the mask as she peruses various stalls and watches several of the bards perform. The armor merely stands behind her impassively. Anyone looking closely would notice that a massive two-handed sword is slung across his back.
<@Aqu|GM> Mayor Deverin rolls her eyes, stepping in front of the Sheriff. "Nonsense. If the traveler wishes to talk, he may have it." She smiles. "Do you need something?"
<Harvey> The figure nods. "I am Palurin. I was hired by a courier service in Janderhoff to deliver this package to Father Zanthus in time for the Festival."
<@Aqu|GM> As the suit of armor continues to follow in her stead, a dwarf approaches it. "Ay!" he yells, "Yer sure a tall one. What ye be?" The dwarf, a smiling fellow, appears to be a little shorter than the average dwarf; just barely over 4 feet. His black, braided beard is entwined with his hair, which meets his shoulders. He wears scalemail, a buckler strapped to his arm, and a mace on his back.
<@Aqu|GM> Father Zanthus quirks his head, looking up from his notes. "A package?" He steps over, looking to Palurin. "Would you know what it pertains to?"
<Harvey> Palurin hefts the large, oblong box. He sets it down, leaning it again the podium. He shakes his head, looking up at the Father. "No, I know nothing about it. I was merely hired to transport it to you."
<Harvey> The suit of armor slowly turns, seeming to regard the dwarf through a darkened slit on his helmet. "I am Orick, little Cleric of Desna." His voice seems to reverberate throughout his entire suit of armor, making it seem much louder and more imposing that it ought to.
<@Aqu|GM> Father Zanthus nods. "Very well." He smiles. "I thank you. Here," he says, his hand reaching into his coinpurse and taking out five gold. "Have this for your trouble."
<@Aqu|GM> The dwarf chuckles. "Nice ta' meet ye, Orick. Me name's Pwent." He nods. "'Aven't seen someone as big as ye before. Not like these humans. Not from around here, are ye?"
<Harvey> Palurin nods, reaching out to take the offered coinage. With a few deft motions he opens his cloak and places the money into a pocket on his sash. The scabbard for a longsword as well as a well worn book can be seen before he pulls the cloak tight once more.
<Harvey> "I am from the-" begins Orick, before his female companion turns around and interrupts. "No, we're not from around here," the voice chuckles, seeming amused and curious.
<@Aqu|GM> Father Zanthus nods. "Are you planning on staying for the festivities? Most of the events will begin shortly, if your courier tasks are not to take you away."
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent chuckles back. "Nice to meet ye too. Are ye Orick's lady friend?"
<Harvey> Palurin shakes his head, hopping down from the platform. "I will stay for a bit."
<Harvey> The mask moves sideways a few times. "No no. He's more of a companion," she says, glancing back at the suit of armor.
<@Aqu|GM> Zanthus nods, waving as Palurin departs and goes back to his notes.
Pwent smiles. "Jus teasin'. Glad to see other outsiders 'ere enjoying the festivities."
<Harvey> Palurin begins to make his way back towards the crowd, subconsciously pulling his hood higher as he approaches the plethora of humans.
The masked form shrugs. "I had heard that this festival is quite renowned and well worth the time."
<@Aqu|GM> Out of the corner of his eye, Palurin sees someone leaning against one of the many shop stalls, staring with a smirk.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent nods. "Ay. This town's had a few festivals, all good, but stopped after the late unpleasantness." He shakes his head. "Shame it be."
<Harvey> Palurin continues walking, though he shifts his direction so that he can get a better look at the figure, trying to determine whether he need be concerned.
The mask nods. "Yes, I remember all of that. I was there, believe it or not." Her voice sounds slightly bored, as though it wasn't quite what history makes it out to be.
<@Aqu|GM> Limber and fit, yet of average height, the human woman seems to exude an aura of confidence. Her lips are curled into an ever-so-subtle smirk, while her arms are crossed. Her hair, midnight black and of shoulder length, is swept to the side, partially covering her left eye.
<@Aqu|GM> She wears a golden stud on each ear, along with a similarly-designed golden necklace hanging loosely to her chest. Her blue eyes watch Palurin, and just underneath both of her eyes, there are tattoos, resembling that of the wind, if it were to be drawn.
<@Aqu|GM> She wears a simple set of leather armor, straps and pieces designed for quiet movement. The only weapon on her person seems to be an oddly-shaped bladed ring on her back; from the center of the ring, there are four metal blades, extending like points on a compass rose.
<@Aqu|GM> Palurin can't tell what her intentions are, but her smirk remains, along with her stare.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent raises an eyebrow. "There? I thought ye said ye weren't from around these parts. Or 'ave ye been here long?"
<Harvey> Palurin looks at her right back, scowling beneath his hood. He continues the way he's walking, stopping next to a nearby stall to glance over the wares. He continually glances at her out of the corner of his eye.
<Harvey> The mask shrugs. "I've been everywhere for a long time," it replies, laughing softly. The armor merely stands by impassively.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent chuckles. "Mysterious. Not quite accurate, I'd say."
After a few glances, she disappears. When Palurin looks again, she is gone and no where to be seen in the crowd.
<@Aqu|GM> As Palurin continues glancing over wears, he notices his belt get a little... lighter.
<Harvey> Noticing instantly, Palurin straightens, gaze sweeping around himself as he glances down at his belt.
<@Aqu|GM> Palurin sees the woman that was staring before weaving her way through the crowd... spellbook in hand.
<Harvey> He starts after her, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword as soon as he starts moving. Cursing softly under his breath, he enters the crowd after her.
<Harvey> The mask shrugs again. "It depends on how you look at things, my little friend." Her voice sounds like she's grinning.
<@Aqu|GM> She continues switfly, cursing as she looks back and notices Palurin taking chase. After several more moments, both Palurin and the thief are away from the crowd. She stops, turning on her heels with a smile. "Oh? Do you need something of me?"
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent rolls his eyes. "Ay, ay. So," He raises an eyebrow. "What's with the mask?"
<Harvey> Palurin slows, though he continues approaching her. "Give me the book," he growls, both of his hands hidden inside his cloak.
Chuckling, the mask shrugs. "I like it," says the amused voice.
<@Aqu|GM> The girl brings her hand to her mouth as if to gasp. "The book? Why ever would you want to take my book?"
<@Aqu|GM> The dwarf shrugs. "Whatever works, then! I like me beard, so I guess I cannay' talk."
<Harvey> "Give it to me," Palurin repeats, still advancing on her.
< Harvey>  The mask turns to glance at the rest of the festival. "If that's all, I think I would like to see the rest of what this festival has to offer."
<@Aqu|GM> She smirks. "Now, now... that's no fun." As Palurin advances, she throws the spellbook into the air.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent bows his head. "Well, 'ave fun. Sure I'll see you later..." He blinks. "What's yer name? Pwent be mine, if ye didn't overhear."
<Harvey> Palurin’s grins softly to himself as the books is launched. He quickly pulls his hand out of his robes, pointing his index finger at the tome and muttering under his breath.
<@Aqu|GM> With her hands free, she maneuvers her fingers, causing a mechanical clicking to be heard around her wrists. A moment later, two kukri fall out into her hands. The spellbook, on the other hand, begins to fall.
<Harvey> Palurin scowls once more when he sees the daggers appear. He yanks the book to him, grabbing it out of the air with his right hand and drawing his longsword with the other.
<@Aqu|GM> The woman smiles. "So, a duel? I do so enjoy fights like this."
<Harvey> The mask turns back to the dwarf. "I'm known as Mahd," it says, once more sounding as though it's smiling.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent smiles and turns, waving as he moves back into the crowd. "Nice te meetcha Mahd!"
<Harvey> Palurin just watches, placing the book back into it's pouch on his hip. That done, he slowly drops into a fencing stance, waiting.
As the dwarf leaves, Mahd looks up at Orick.
"He was a nice little creature, wasn't he?" she asks. The armor merely stands there, appearing to survey the crowd as a group.
<@Aqu|GM> Not wanting to enter combat yet, the woman quickly sheaths one of the kukri. Reaching behind her, she grasps the four-pronged object, throwing it towards Palurin.
<@Aqu|GM> Unfortunately for her, she misses, one of the blades sticking itself into the ground nearby.
<Harvey> Taking a few steps forward, Palurin thrusts his sword at her in a lunge.
<@Aqu|GM> Palurin manages to strike true, his sword piercing the woman's leather armor and leaving a rather sizable gash of blood. She shrieks in response, brandishing both her kukri, "Y-you'll pay for that!" She brings one hand over her head, swiping towards Palurin's neck, while the other lunges low, going for his stomach.
<@Aqu|GM> The thief manages to land a single hit, barely penetrating Palurin's armor with her knife. The woman's eyes widen, bracing herself for another slash.
<Harvey> Palurin stays impassive, pulling his sword away and attempting to grab her by the throat.
<@Aqu|GM> The woman frowns, lurching out of range and slashing at his hand in retaliation.
In her haste, she misses, but quickly readjusts, slashing two more times at his arms.
Her wide eyes look panicked as she continually misses, backing off once more.
<Harvey> "Yield," Palurin barks, dropping back into his stance.
<@Aqu|GM> Gritting her teeth, she drops her blades and lowers herself to her knees.
<Harvey> Palurin sighs, relaxing somewhat. He slowly sheathes his sword, keeping an eye on the pickpocket.
<@Aqu|GM> The pickpocket brings one of her hands to her chest, holding her wound.
<Harvey> Palurin approaches her carefully, extending his hand to her. "Let me help you," he says evenly.
<@Aqu|GM> The woman frowns, her brow furrowing as she looks up, her blue eyes meeting Palurin's. "...Why? So you can bring me to the town guard?"
<Harvey> He shakes his head, hand still extended. "I think you've been punished enough."
<@Aqu|GM> Her frown only deepens, thoroughly confused, but she hesitantly clasps her hand with his.
<Harvey> Bending down, he grabs her underneath her other arm, pulling up and supporting her.
<@Aqu|GM> With her injury, she has to lean into Palurin for support, and though her frown is now gone, she still looks very confused.
<Harvey> Ignoring the slight pain in his torso, he begins to support her back towards the main press of buildings and hopefully an apothecary.
<@Aqu|GM> She of course pocketed her weapons before being picked up, and within several minutes, Palurin and the girl reach an alchemist's lab. As soon as they enter, the small gnome rushes over, looking at the pair's injuries. "Sit, sit!" he directs, pointing to a pair of wooden chairs, "What happened to you two?"
<Harvey> Palurin levers the woman into a chair, though he decides to stand. "It's not important. She just needs treatment."
<@Aqu|GM> The alchemist shrugs and nods, fetching two extracts. "Normally," he says, walking over, "this would cost you, but with the festival... however odd your injuries are, in that light, I will not charge you."
He nods, handing each a potion. "Drink, and you will be healed."
<@Aqu|GM> The woman coughs, clenching her wound and quickly drinks the potion. Immediately, her wound begins to close.
<Harvey> Palurin instantly downs it, nodding in appreciation at the alchemist.
<@Aqu|GM> The gnome waves his hand. "Now, go enjoy the festival, the both of you!"
<Harvey> Palurin in already half-way out the door, fully intent on having nothing more to do with the woman.
<@Aqu|GM> The woman watches Palurin leave, frowning. Odd, she thinks to herself. She shakes her head. Enough thievery for one day... She disappears into the crowd as she leaves, simply watching.
<Harvey> Palurin sticks to the edges of the crowd, intent on not letting anyone steal from him again.
<@Aqu|GM> As the time draws near, Father Zanthus approaches the podium. "Townsfolk!" he calls, "Visitors!" He smiles, bringing his arms wide. "It is with great joy that we have you all here today. I simply thank you for joining us." The crowd cheers in response, and Zanthus steps down, allowing Mayor Deverin to take the stand.
<@Aqu|GM> "Hello to all of you! I hope that you are enjoying the festivities." The Mayor laughs. "I know that even the most notorious of out town are as well! Even Larz has managed to tear himself away from his tannery. An impressive feat indeed!" The assembled folk begin to laugh, much to the annoyings of Larz, a well-known workaholic.
<@Aqu|GM> As the laughter begins to wane, the Mayor steps down, departing off of the podium with thanks for attending. Sheriff Hemlock takes the stand next. "Remember that even in this celebration, there can still be injury. Stay safe."
<@Aqu|GM> continues, reining in the crowd's good mood, "I would like to take a moment of silence for those who passes in the fire five years ago."
<@Aqu|GM> Fortunately, Cyrdak Drokkus is more than up to the challenge of bringing the crowd’s mood back up with his rousing anecdotes as he delivers a not-completely-irreverent recap of the long process the town went through to finance and construct the new cathedral.
<@Aqu|GM> He throws in a bit of self-promotion at the end, as is his wont, inviting everyone to stop by the Sandpoint Theater the following evening to check out his new production of “The Harpy’s Curse,” revealing that the lead role of Avisera the harpy queen will be played by none other than the famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda!
<@Aqu|GM> Finally, Father Zantus steps up to give another short speech thanking everyone for coming before declaring the Swallowtail Festival underway, "And with this, I mark the Swallowtail Festival open!"
<@Aqu|GM> Merchants and merriers are quick to go back to their business, and the few games around begin.
<@Aqu|GM> Events begin, including drinking contests at the rusty dragon inn, a test of strength at the center of the plaza, and even games of hide-and-seek led by the town guard and children of the town.
<Harvey> Mahd grins when drinking is mentioned. Without a moment's hesitation, she begins making her way towards the inn, Orick in tow.
< Harvey> Palurin merely hangs back, watching the feats in the square.
<@Aqu|GM> A line of barrels is set up, a tap attached to each. Mugs line the table, along with a healthy amount of 10 people-- including Pwent! Ameiko, one of the established Inn owners of the town, calls out, "One more for the drinking contest!"
<Harvey> "Why hello there, little cleric!" Mahd calls to Pwent as she approaches the tables.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent grins, waving. "Ye gonna try yer luck 'ere?"
<Harvey> Mahd grins at the dwarf. "There's no luck."
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent chuckles. "We'll see."
<Harvey> The mask nods. So we will.
<@Aqu|GM> As the final contestant arrives, Ameiko nods. "Alright, everyone take a mug, and down it! Round one!"
<Harvey> The mask nods. "So we will."
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent grins, taking and filling his first, chugging it down.
<Harvey> Mahd reaches up, tilting the mask so that her mouth is free. With a huge grin, she grabs the mug, downing it.
<@Aqu|GM> Only those of the weakest fortitude do not make it through this round and the next two. However, by the time for the fourth drink, several are getting tipsy. "Round four!" Ameiko calls.
<Harvey> Mahd downs the fourth drink, still grinning.
<@Aqu|GM> Mahd's grin may be cut short as her vision begins to go blurry. Pwent, on the other hand, is still standing clearly and easily. He smirks, and another shout is heard, "Round Five!"
<Harvey> She downs the fifth one, expression set as she resolutely continues. Orick simply watches.
<@Aqu|GM> Mahd is certainly feeling the weight of the alcohol on her now... she begins to feel dizzy, having difficulty standing up. Pwent chuckles. "Too much fer ya, darlin'?" Another shout rings out, hurting Mahd's ears, "Round six!"
<Harvey> Mahd says nothing, merely reaching for another flagon. However, before she can grab the handle a massive metal hand grips her wrist, stopping her.
Hang on.
<Harvey> "Stop, Mahdilara," Orick booms, pulling Mahd away from the table and making sure she doesn't fall over.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent raises an eyebrow. "Too much for ye?"
<Harvey> Mahd opens her mouth to speak, but Orick beats her to it. "She's done." His voice barely has any intonation in it, but it does seem vaguely concerned. With that, he begins to basically drag her away, making sure she doesn't fall down.
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent chuckles, and the contest goes on...
<@Aqu|GM> Pwent wins, of course. Though he's fairly tipsy. He's awarded 10 gold for his drinking skills!
<@Aqu|GM> --End Session--