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13:22, 29th March 2024 (GMT+0)

Chapter #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale.

Posted by Alergast BarettFor group 0
Alergast Barett
NPC, 1 post
Sandpoint Guard
Thu 29 Aug 2013
at 11:19
  • msg #1

Chapter #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




Alergast Barett stretched and yawned as he surveyed the speech-watching crowd.  He and his cadre had been on duty since before the crack of dawn that morning, helping with festival setup, answering questions, troubleshooting the special Festival Patrol Plan that had (of course) gone to hell starting about six in the morning, and coordinating the huge (for Sandpoint) crowd of people that began trickling into town as the sun rose.  It had been a LOT of work.  They had arrested a Sczarni pickpocket and sent a couple of tipsy revelers to cool their heels in the local jail (apparently Fatman’s was serving early), but nothing TOO terrible had happened.  Thank Erastil.

As the speakers droned on, Alergast kept up a humorous commentary for Kellan Storval, his young patrol partner (“First time I’ve heard the mayor speak where she wasn’t either asking me for coin or actively taking it out of my purse!”).  He had taken the young man under his wing ever since Kellan joined the Guard at the tender age of 16.  Now, years later, they were fast friends despite their age difference.  Kellan was a frequent guest at the Barett household, where Alergast’s wife Amele mothered the young man horribly.  The older man was sure he had heard his wife talking with some of her lady friends about the proper woman for the strapping young guardsman.  Like any good friend, he tried (sometimes without success) to shield Kellan from the worst of her well-intentioned meddling.

The only good thing about the early-morning shift was that they were scheduled to be relieved as soon as the speeches ended.  Their replacements arrived just as Father Z took the stage, the changing of the guard only briefly interrupted by the old priest’s surprise mid-speech mention of Alergast.  Still, by the time the butterflies flew they were already back at the Garrison, racking their weapons.  As they emerged (still in uniform, which Sherriff Hemlock believed would help deter crime), they were met by Amele and Aeren, the Baretts’ young son.  Amele was holding Verah, the family’s newest addition and Kellan’s goddaughter.

“Daddy!  Uncle Kollan!”  Aeren, who had called Kellan “Kollan” since he was two and never could seem to understand the difference no matter how many times it was explained to him, sprinted excitedly down the street and leapt into his father’s arms.  “Did you see the butterflies?!?  Didja?!?  Didja?!?”  As the young boy climbed onto his father’s soldiers, Amele gave her husband a huge hug.

Still holding Alergast tight with her head against his chest, Amele gave the young guardsman a warm smile.  “You keeping this guy honest, Kellan?”

“What?!?”  Alergast looked outraged.  “You doubt my honesty, woman?!?  While I’m being attacked?  By a rampaging BEAST?”  The guardsman laughed as Aeren did his best beast impression, roaring fearsomely.  It was the very picture of domestic bliss.  The big man looked at his friend.  “Kellan, where would you like to go first?”

“OGRE SMASH!!!!”  Aeren declared authoritatively.  “Daddy is the strongest!”  His father had been the champion five years running.

Alergast grinned at his son, then at Kellan.  “What do you say, strongman,” he smiled and winked, “want a shot at the title?”

OOC:   The Garrison is Area 10 on the Game Map.




This message was last edited by the player at 00:56, Fri 06 Sept 2013.
Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 7 posts
Fri 30 Aug 2013
at 01:45
  • msg #2

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Kellan emerged from the Garrison onto Main Street feeling naked without his weapon, however he was confident in Sheriff Hemlock's plan and as such was dressed in what was now a dusty and well used uniform. He had spent the majority of the previous day clipping, scrubbing, polishing and oiling his equipment, no mean task in a sea side town where even fine steel seemed to rust over night. Bound and determined to show the outlanders that Sandpoint was no mere backwater village, he had even asked his mother to trim his hair and had heated water for a close shave.

Now that it was all said and done he looked forward to the days festivities, smiling openly at the Barett families timely arrival. Shutting the door behind him good and tight he looked to Ameles question with a sly grin.

"This guy?" Looking to his mentor "I'm only one man Amele, I barely slowed him down. " he joked as he watched Alergast hoist up Aeren into his arms. While the boy started demanding a visit to Ogre Stomp, Kellan was marveling at the way little Verah held onto his finger, speaking to the infant in baby talk "You just want to see your daddy whoop me, don't you...don't you" the baby smiled and buried her face into her mothers neck "Yeah...I thought as much" he added with a smile as he planted a kiss on the top of his god-daughters head.

Turning now to Aeren and his father, Kellan clapped his hands and rubbed them together "Ogre Stomp it is! Lead the way" idling over and mussing the boys hair playfully as he spoke. Walking with the family along Tower street he took a deep breath of the fresh sea air, satisfied with a long mornings work and wages as well as the fine turn out for the festivities.

As they walked through the streets of the little town Kellan could not help but notice that the drinking was already going strong, some of the towns folk seeming to see the festival as nothing more than an excuse to get blind drunk instead of the blessed occasion it should have represented in his  mind. Again wishing that he had brought a weapon, he pushed the thought from his mind and resolved to have fun regardless.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Fri 30 Aug 2013.
Alergast Barett
NPC, 2 posts
Sandpoint Guard
Fri 30 Aug 2013
at 05:41
  • msg #3

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




Alergast smiled contentedly as his family, because they all thought of Kellan as part of the family, began to walk together down Tower Street towards Das Korvut’s Red Dog Smithy.  Aeren ran ahead and played with one of the town dogs as they passed the Sandpoint Town Hall and between Savah’s Armory and the Pillbug’s Pantry, turning right onto High Street.  In the distance they saw what looked like a couple of scholars making a right on Festival Street, which would take them to the theater.

But that wasn’t the way the Baretts were going.

Instead, the five took a left on Festival Street, leading them out towards the Turandarok River.  As soon as they made the turn they heard a distinctive metallic clang and a raucous cheer from what sounded like a large group of people.  As they got closer, they could see that Das Korvut had set up his bright red Ogre Stomp! contraption in a clearing next to the cliff.

The Ogre Stomp! apparatus was deceptively simple.  It consisted of large metal base.  In the center of this base was a small “target” square.  If one hit the target square with an object, such as the huge mallet Das Korvut required his Ogre Stomp! contestants to use, it would cause a metal slug to rise up the twenty-foot high pole located further back on the base.  At the top of this pole was a huge bell.  If you hit the target hard enough, you could ring the bell with the slug.

This is much more difficult than it sounds.

But that wasn’t the genius of Das Korvut’s contest.  No, the genius was that you had THIRTY SECONDS to swing the huge mallet as fast and as hard as you could.  Once your time was up Das Korvut tallied the number of times you rung the bell and that was your score.  Desna’s honest truth, only the strongest, toughest, and fittest of Sandpoint’s citizens had any real shot at ringing the bell more than once.

Last year Alergast had rung it seven times.

Das Korvut was a huge, bald, muscled man with a famously-tempestuous temper.  But none of it was on display today; he was all smiles as he ran one of the Festival’s most-popular games.  Almost every young man in the district felt compelled to prove his manhood by conquering Ogre Stomp!  Few did.  Alergast privately thought that Das Korvut found this hilarious.

One of the men in the back of the crowd briefly glanced back at the family, then did a double-take as he realized who was approaching.  He quickly elbowed his companion, who also turned around.  The word spread like wildfire through the entire crowd, the murmur growing into a roar as the Baretts drew closer and closer.

“Alergast!”

“It’s Alergast Barett!”

As they reached the back of the crowd, Alergast hugged Aeren, who was looking at him as if Erastil himself had come to life, then grinned at Kellan.  “Better warm them up for you,” he said with a smile before heading towards Das Korvut’s contraption.

“ALERGAST BARETT!!  MY FRIEND!!”  Das Korvut bellowed with a volume normally reserved for waterfalls and rockslides.  “CHAMPION!!  YOU ARE BEING WELCOME HERE!!”  The crowd roared.  Something about the game turned the normally-taciturn smith into a regular showman.  Or maybe it was the flask of whiskey inelegantly concealed in his belt.

“EVERYONE IS BEING QUIET!”  Das Korvut thundered.  “As you are knowing, the record for today is TWO!  Now we are having Alergast Barett, five-time Ogre Stomp! Champion, take his turn!  You are witnessing!”  He handed the huge mallet to Alergast, who twirled it around as if it were no heavier than a conductor’s baton.  Apparently the guardsman was a bit of a showman himself.  He moved onto the contraption’s base, tested the weight of the mallet, and looked at Das Korvut.

“ALERGAST, YOU ARE BEING READY?!?”  Das Korvut said this more to the growing crowd than the guardsman himself, but Alergast nodded anyway.  “THEN READY . . . STEADY . . .STOMP!”

CLANG!  The crowd cheered as Alergast’s first mallet blow easily rang the bell.  But the first blow was always the easiest.  Alergast quickly brought the mallet back, swinging it again.  CLANG!  The crowd was going wild now.  Aeren, who was now sitting on Kellan’s shoulders so he could see his father compete, was bouncing up and down so violently and yelling so loudly that Kellan suspected he might never again have the regular use of his neck or his hearing.

CLANG!  Alergast had broken today’s record!  The crowd was really going crazy now.  With 15 seconds gone, he wasn’t quite on his record-breaking pace of the previous year, but he was clearly in a rhythm.

Suddenly, tragedy struck!  The crowd gasped as Alergast lost the handle on the huge mallet as he raised it and had to bring it back down to re-center himself.  It wasn’t as bad as dropping it, but he lost precious seconds in the process.

CLANG!  The crowd cheered again as Alergast rang the bell for the fourth time.  Just a few seconds remained.  With speed that seemed impossible given the size of the mallet, Alergast brought it into position and down again on the target.

CLANG!  The crowd roared.  Alergast Barett had lost his grip on the mallet and STILL scored FIVE!  This was an Ogre Stomp! they would talk about for years!

But wait!  Das Korvut was waving his arms and attempting to yell over the noise of the excited crowd.

“IS NO GOOD!!”  Das Korvut yelled, bringing a shocked silence.  “Bell is ringing AFTER sand runs out!”  He raised the glass he used to time the contestants.  “Barett is scoring FOUR!”

The crowd grumbled, but rules were rules.

Aeren was outraged as his father walked back to their small group, receiving handshakes, backslaps, and congratulations the entire way.  “You should have had a FIVE, Daddy!”  He was almost crying as Kellan handed him back to his father.

“Don’t worry, little man.”  Alergast kissed Aeren on the top of the head as he buried his head in his father's chest.  “It’s only a game.  There are more important things.  Besides,”  he smiled, putting a finger under Aeren’s chin and bringing his gaze up, “I’m still winning!”  Alergast looked over at Kellan with an air of studied innocence.  “Oh, and Kellan, I hope you don’t mind that I gave him your name for next.”

“KELLAN STORVAL!!!!”  The big smith yelled.  “It is being your turn for,” he took a deep breath, “OGRE STOMP!!!!!!!!”

OOC:  OGRE STOMP! RULES.  Ogre Stomp! is Das Korvut’s ultimate test of physical conditioning. It requires a combination of Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity.

A character wishing to participate in Ogre Stomp! must first determine how often he will be able to swing the mallet in the 30 seconds provided.  Given that this is a huge mallet, he must make a CON test to determine this number, which is d6 plus his CON modifier.

Swinging the mallet so often is not only a test of endurance, but a test of coordination.  It’s easy to drop the mallet.  It’s hard to quickly get the mallet back into a good position to swing without losing your grip.  It’s hard to hit the target directly when you are swinging so quickly.  To reflect this, the character must determine the number of times he will be able to hit the target with the mallet in the 30 seconds provided.  This number is d6 plus the contestant’s DEX modifier.

The LOWER of the above two numbers is the maximum number of times a contestant can successfully hit the target during the time given.  But not every hit will ring the bell!  The bell is only rung when a contestant rolls a “6” or higher when rolling a d6 and adding his STR modifier.  The contestant rolls this final test a number of times equal to the LOWER of his CON and DEX test results.  The number of 6+ results he obtains is his final Ogre Stomp! score.

In this case, Kellan will make two initial rolls:  a d6+2 CON test and a d6+2 DEX test.  He will then roll a d6+3 STR test a number of times equal to the result of whichever of his CON and DEX tests were LOWER.  The number of 6s or above that he obtains is his final Ogre Stomp! score.  You can look in the die roller to see how I did it for Alergast.  Can Kellan take Alergast’s title?  The odds aren’t with him, but he has a shot!  Good luck!





This message was last edited by the player at 15:41, Fri 30 Aug 2013.
Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 9 posts
Fri 30 Aug 2013
at 06:51
  • msg #4

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Kellan winced a little despite himself as young Aeren enthusiastically cheered his father on, covering it up with a smile and spirited cheering of his own, raising one fist in the air with every blow.

"Come on Alergast! You are the Ogre!"

The mood was contagious and the huge Das Korvut was certainly going all out with his showmanship this year. Hearing the others talk about his mentor in hushed whispers and tones of awe allowed Kellan to live a little vicariously, this burly champion was his partner after all, and the wildly popular Ogre Stomp! And it's results would be discussed all year over pints of beer and idle fish hooks.

Kellan had been participating nearly every year since he could hold the unwieldy mallet, and had yet to strike the bell. That being said even the various heights achieved could be used as boasting material, especially among Sandpoints youth. Not everybody could be a Alergast Barett after all.

Kellans eyes alternated between the timepiece and the big man slamming the mallet down onto the small square, chanting along with the crowd.

One!

Two!

Three!

Four!

Kellans eyes shot to the glass and saw the last grains trickle out onto the mound below, his voice faltered as the bell rang home a fifth time.

Five!

It was close, very close. Kellan watched with baited breath as the meaty arms of Das Korvut waved about, then sighed as he discounted the fifth blow. Tough, but fair. Still to double the previous best, nay, to hit the bell at all was worth the crowds admiration and Kellan cheered with the rest as he handed over Aeren back to his father the champion. "Your dad is quite the Ogre eh?" slapping Alergast on the shoulder. "Looks like win number six...I told them you weren't getting old" he added in playfully before the news that he would be next changed his smile to a more sober expression.

Swallowing in a dry throat he moved forward with none of the showmanship Alergast had mustered, really just a half wave to the crowd and a nervous grin to Das Korvut, who would once again judge his masculinity on behalf of his entire town. Picking up the mallet he found it lighter than he remembered, not recalling the daily drill sessions with his Halberd in the Garrison courtyard or that the weapon really was just a glorified weight on a stick.

Subconsciously he adopted the same stance he used for drill and waited for the big countdown, nodding his head in time with the count then letting loose with an overhead blow.

CLANG!

Kellan couldn't even hear the crowd over such a glorious sound, after years of failure it resounded like an angels trumpet to the farm boys ears.

CLANG!

Twice? Unheard of, this was Kellan Storval, not the likes of a Barett or a Korvut

WHACK!

He had overextended. The handle of the mallet hitting the edge of the machine and marring the wood, one of many such marks. The frustration at having had his dream moment interrupted drove Kellan into a sudden surge of energy in response to his frustration. He held a deep breath and went for broke, back muscles straining against his chain mail.

CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!

He stopped, red faced with a few beads of sweat standing out in his brow, the sounds of the crowd slowly filtering in to his adrenaline addled brain.

23:15, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 7 using 1d6+3. Six Stomp!!!
23:15, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 8 using 1d6+3. Five Stomp!
23:14, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 9 using 1d6+3. Four Stomp!
23:12, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 4 using 1d6+3. Three Stomp!
23:12, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 6 using 1d6+3. Two Stomp!
23:12, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 9 using 1d6+3. One Stomp!
23:10, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 6 using 1d6+2. Ogre Stomp! DEX Test.
23:09, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 8 using 1d6+2. Ogre Stomp CON Test
.
Alergast Barett
NPC, 3 posts
Sandpoint Guard
Fri 30 Aug 2013
at 13:52
  • msg #5

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




“Getting old?!? Wha . . . ?”  Alergast spluttered, grinning with mock indignation at his friend’s jest.  “Why, you young . . .!”   But Kellan was already heading up to Das Korvut and his big red contraption.  As the big smith introduced the fresh-faced guardsman, the Barrets all moved to a privileged place in the front of the crowd reserved for last year’s champion.  They would have an excellent view of “Uncle Kollan’s” Ogre Stomp! attempt.

Alergast silently held his breath as Kellan grabbed the mallet and took up a position on the contraption’s base.  The young man had been heartbroken last year when he had only just failed to ring the bell for the first time.  Alergast had faith Kellan would achieve that goal this year; his friend had trained very hard in the intervening twelve months.

“KELLAN STORVAL, YOU ARE BEING READY?!?”  Das Korvut said in the almost-ritual language with which he prefaced each Ogre Stomp! attempt.  “THEN READY . . . STEADY . . .STOMP!”

CLANG!  Relief flooded through Alergast.  Kellan had rung the bell on his very first blow!  The big guardsman’s smile threatened to engulf his entire face as he cheered his young protégé on.

CLANG!  Amele hugged Alergast with excitement as the young man rang the bell twice with his first two blows.  The crowd, which hadn’t expected much from Kellan, was only now realizing how special this Ogre Stomp! performance might be.

WHACK!  Alergast grimaced as Kellan hit an edge rather than the target, failing to even move the slug.  He willed the young guardsman back into a rhythm; Kellan only needed one more ring for what would be an absolutely-unbelievable second-place finish.

CLANG!  Alergast was stunned at the ease with which Kellan shrugged off his miss and moved directly back into a fluid striking motion.  Over the past few weeks, Kellan had been incredibly inquisitive about the proper stance and technique for getting the mallet back into position as quickly as possible.  Alergast was beginning to understand that his young friend’s interest might not have been completely academic.

CLANG!  Kellan had tied him for first place!  The crowd was really thundering now.  Only a bit of sand was left in Das Korvut’s glass.  Would Kellan have time for a final attempt?  Could he really be this year’s undisputed Ogre Stomp! champion?  He would almost certainly be the youngest champion ever.  No one could possibly . . .

CLANG!  Alergast looked at the glass.  It was empty.  In a brief instant of hushed silence, every single person in attendance looked at the visibly-astonished Das Korvut for a ruling on whether Kellan’s final ring had beaten the timer.  Finally, slowly, Das Korvut raised both of his hands.

Kellan’s final, improbable, impossible ring had counted.

“STORVAL IS SCORING FIVE!!!”  The big smith boomed, and bedlam erupted.  Alergast was on the contraption in a flash, tackling Kellan to the ground on the other side of the apparatus.  “YOU GOT FIVE!!!!”  Alergast yelled, pounding on his friend’s armor.  Was he crying?  He couldn’t be crying.  “THAT WAS THE MOST AMAZING THING I’VE EVER SEEN!”  He dragged Kellan up off the ground in the midst of the thronging crowd that had just witnessed a once-in-a-decade sporting event, putting a hand on each side of his friend’s head and yelling to be heard.  “YOU ARE THE CHAMPION!!”

He lost sight of his friend for several minutes as Kellan was pulled away and mobbed by a crowd who wanted to participate, in whatever slight way they could, in such a monumental achievement.  When Kellan reappeared moments later, Aeren ran and jumped into his arms, giving him a huge hug.

“So, strongman,” Alergast grinned at his friend.  “How does it feel to be Champion?”

OOC:  Kellan will be awarded the Ogre Stomp! Champion’s Ribbon.  Once per day, this ribbon allows Kellan to add +1 to any die roll that uses his STR, DEX, or CON ability modifiers.  He may choose to use this bonus after seeing the die result.  I have added this item to your character sheet.

Also, please end your next post up where lunch is being served near the new cathedral and give me some indication of which Festival activity you would like to visit next.





Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 11 posts
Fri 30 Aug 2013
at 18:26
  • msg #6

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

At Das Korvuts proclamation Kellan turned towards the big smith in something of a daze and unknowingly let the mallet fall from his fingers into the dirt. It all took a moment to process. Five? five is more than four, and that would mean...

"Oof!" Kellan let out a grunt as Alergast body checked him into the ground, initially bringing up his hands as if to guard his face as his friend shouted and beat upon his Chainmail . All of a sudden it all clicked and Kellan was plunged into what easily could have been the culmination of his wildest boyhood fantasies. He grabbed Alergast by the shoulders and shouted back. "I GOT FIVE!" suddenly breaking into a huge grin, his face still red from exertion.

Letting out a victory whoop as Alergast grabbed his head and laughing, he noted how his mentors eyes were glossy, the quickly drying trails of what very well could have been tears. Suddenly he was on his feet and it seemed every man and boy in the village was patting him on the back and going to shake his hand. As the people congratulated him his mind struggled to keep up and process it all. He would need to tell his family! He had out scored Alergast Barett! He has been called a champion.

"That's a son'a Sanpoint right here, like'a said before, all in the legs ain't that right?" Said one man as he jostled Kellan with a hand on his shoulder.

"That's the Storval boy, Kenneth's oldest" he heard another explain to a weathered farmer holding a skin of what smelled like wine.

"They'll think twice before tryin ta fight the coppers now won't they Kellan?, fine show lad,well done" Daviren Hosk from the Goblin Squash stables was shaking his hand with a grin.

Eventually they all backed away as Das Korvut came forward and pinned the Champions ribbon to Kellans uniform with his huge calloused fingers. As was fitting for a festival ribbon it was large and blue with two long tails, the central button portrayed a little hand painted hammer with the words "Das Korvut's Ogre Stomp" along the top while the bottom read "Champion" in all capital letters with the year beneath it. When Korvut patted Kellan on the back he nearly knocked him off balance.

When Aeren jumped into his arms Kellan gave the boy a hug, beaming to Alergast as he spoke "I think your dad may have let me win, he's a crafty one" he glanced to the ribbon then back to Alergast "It doesn't feel real, like I'm going to wake up in the garrison any moment now...it also feels hungry, what do you say to a little lunch?"

Kellan and Alergast discussed strategy and the finer points of hitting things with other things as they strolled back along Tower Street towards the Cathedral, every now and then stopping to wave and thank people congratulating him along the route. The topic of taking part in the "Devil Hunt" did come up much to the delight of young Aeren.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:08, Sun 01 Sept 2013.
The Raconteur
GM, 55 posts
Teller of Tales
Writer of Wrongs
Mon 2 Sep 2013
at 05:20
  • msg #7

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




In the early mid-afternoon, the cathedral bell began ringing; lunch was served!  The Festival patrons who were not already hungrily waiting by the cordoned-off area near the cathedral where various chefs and cooks were preparing the repast began streaming that direction from the assorted activities in which they were engaged.

Lunch was provided free of charge at the expense of Sandpoint’s dining establishments.  Each brought its best dishes, or in some cases completely new creations.  After all, the Festival Lunch was as much a marketing push for new patrons by Sandpoint’s inns, eateries, and pubs as it was a way to feed a hungry Festival crowd.

It soon became apparent that the darling of the lunch was (again) Ameiko Kaijitsu, the proprietor of the Rusty Dragon, whose remarkable curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead slightly but definitively overshadowed the other offerings, such as the Hagfish’s lobster chowder and the White Deer’s peppercorn venison.  Not to say that these other offerings were not top-notch, but Ameiko was well-known as a culinary wizard; the creativity and skill behind her Swallowtail Festival dishes was legendary among those interested in such things as far away as Magnimar.

As Kellan moved to his chosen table, received his meal, and retired to one of the crowded, makeshift picnic tables quickly set up to service hundreds of people all eating simultaneously, he was impressed by how such a small town had organized to serve such a relatively-large number of people.  As he attempted to eat without spilling all over himself, he heard snippets from the conversations occurring around him . . .

“. . . about the latest lumber mill fire?  The one in Soggy River . . . ?”

“. . . STORVAL boy won?!?  What about Barett . . .”

“. . . say Shalelu has a new apprentice; maybe she can keep this one alive . . .”

“. . . salmon is great . . . too bad her father is a killer . . .”

“ . . . ridiculous hat . . . “

“. . . say Chopper’s ghost set the church fire . . .”

“. . . as Desna is my witness, guy left the tent white as a sheet . . .”

“. . . think PODRICK is in with the Sczarni?!?!?  Don’t be silly . . .”

“. . .a GNOME was riding him . . .”

“. . . wouldn’t travel out that way, the Foxglove Estate is haunted by the spirits of . . .”

“. . . makes three mills so far . . .”

“. . .bugbear killed the last two, didn’t he . . .“

“. . . WHO won the herb challenge?  What happened to Willow Sanderson? She . . .”

“. . . and then Alergast TACKLED him, guess the guy can’t stand losing . . .”

 “. . . can’t believe Giants would . . .”

“. . . hear about Katrine?  Apparently she’s shacking up with some guy from the mill.  Ven’s in a state . . .”

“. . . they were best friends, it’s sad . . .”

“. . . Scarnettis have the only mill left . . . “

“. .  ‘clear out the glassworks tonight,’ he said.  Where am I gonna sleep . . .”

“. . . don’t think Lonjiku is a KILLER . . . just an asshole . . .”

“. . . Mvashti’s given out some disturbing readings this year, guy probably got one . . .”

“. . . put it past Titus to burn the competition . . .”

“. . . with that acolyte boy, they’re a cute couple . . .”

“. . . want to be that guy, Ven’ll beat him to a pulp . . .”

“. . .you would be too if you got cuckolded by an ELF . . .”

“. . . produce a guy like Aldern?  Man’s a charmer . . .”

“. . . always thought Barett was a stand-up guy . . .”

“. . . Hayliss says she has evidence . . .”

Kellan wasn't surprised that local events and personages were the lunchtime topics of conversation among his fellow residents of Sandpoint; he knew most townsfolk had a weakness for gossip.  Eventually the meal service wound down and the Festival patrons head back out into the town to participate in one or two last events before this evening’s consecration ceremony . . .




This message was last edited by the GM at 20:50, Mon 02 Sept 2013.
Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 16 posts
Mon 2 Sep 2013
at 14:39
  • msg #8

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Kellan and the Barret family had a claimed a little table in the shade and were now picking at the remnants of what has been a hearty little repast. Kellan has chosen the venison with a few grilled vegetables and a large jug of tea, with a little honey cake for desert. In the habit of eating quickly, he took a turn holding and playing with Vera while her mother ate and enjoyed a must deserved rest. The local gossip did not seem to phase the young guard, it was a small town after all and privacy was a quaint notion with all the sharp eyed house wives roaming about. He was surprised to learn that somebody had beaten Willow Sanderson this year.

Earlier on Kellan had managed to squirl away a few large red apples for Hakon, his huge and gregarious destrier now stabled over at the "Goblin Squash" Stable. Daviren Hosk had gifted Hakon to Kellan after the young man managed to run off a particularly determined band of Goblins who had let the stock loose one night a few years back. The horse actually had a very long and elaborate Linorm name meant to emphasize his prize winning heritage but which was simply to unwieldy for Sandpoints simple residents.

A huge stallion with a rich chestnut color, defined white stockings and a stripe down his nose, Hakon enjoyed a lifetime of free stabling much to detriment of Davirens feed supply. Still a young horse he was remarkably energetic and could chew through a split rail fence within a few days if not ridden often enough. The horse, also seemed to have  no qualms about trying to play with the other, smaller, less spry horses although it was often a wasted endeavor. Kellan was acutely aware that the fine animals potential was being wasted in little Sandpoint, but he could not bear to part with the beast after so long.

After cleaning the table, Kellan stood and handed Vera back to her mother, looking to young Aeren and tossing the boy an apple.

"Would you like to go give Hakon a little treat? We can give him a good brushing while we are down there, he is probably filthy"

"Yeah! Can I ride him dad?" The boy asked with a toothy grin, looking to Alergast

Alergast laughed and shook his head "Let's start you on something a little easier, Hakon could stomp you like a grape...and your mother would stomp me for letting you try" Amele nodded sagely and readjusted Vera on her hip as they began to move towards the stables.

"Did you see that note about the Goblin toss?" Kellan asked Alergast as they got underway "Wonder what that's all about"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Tue 03 Sept 2013.
Alergast Barett
NPC, 4 posts
Sandpoint Guard
Tue 3 Sep 2013
at 08:58
  • msg #9

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




“Wait, you’ve never been to one of Hosk’s ‘Goblins’ event?  How young ARE you?”  Alergast laughed as he companionably slapped Kellan on the back.  “Dav doesn’t run an event every year; sometimes he’s out hunting.  But when he’s in town, he always runs something goblin-related in the afternoon.”

The five of them continued walking down to the market square on the south side of town.  “If it’s like the toss he ran a few years ago, you just throw bean bags at a target.  The difference is that, well, um . . .  he sews the bean bags to look like goblins.”  Alergast looked as if he expected Kellan to dispute such a fantastical notion.  “He even writes a name of a goblin he’s killed on each beanbag!  Apparently, for goblins, having your name written after you die is a horrible desecration of your spirit.”  Alergast shrugged.  “So naturally Dav does it as much as he possibly can, just to put his finger in the eye of some goblin’s memory a little more.”

Alergast sighed.  “You know what a goblin-hater Dav is.  If you don’t, ask him about it the next time you see him at a watering hole.”  The guardsman grinned.  “Just make sure you have some spare time on your hands when you do.  Did you know he named the stables ‘Goblin Squash’ because one of a goblin’s greatest fears is getting trampled by a horse?”

Alergast looked as if he thought Dav Hosk might have taken his legendary hatred of goblins a bit too far.

“The game is worth playing though; I heard some people at lunch saying that Hosk is giving out some of Chod Bevuk’s venison jerky as a prize.  You know, the special kind he sells at the Sandpoint Meat Market?  Have you ever had any?”  The big man raised a questioning eyebrow.  “I’d be surprised if you could afford it.  I normally can’t, except on special occasions.  And let me tell you, it’s definitely worth it.  Best jerky I’ve ever tasted.  Practically melts in your mouth, which isn’t something you can normally say about jerky.”

As the five entered the south market square, they saw Daverin Hosk busily running his game on the south side of the open area.  The tall, thin man smiled at their approach.  He was dressed in a fine-looking set of leather armor, with an equally fine-looking bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back.  His thick black hair was cut short, and he had the sort of thin beard that looked as if it took more effort to maintain than it would have taken for him to simply shave.

“Barett!!  Storval!!  I am honored that the guard’s finest have chosen to attend my little event!  Especially the new Ogre Stomp! champion!  Such a man should make short work of a few goblins!”

Hosk grinned at Kellan, then got a very serious look on his face as he knelt to talk to Aeren.  “Think you’re big enough to toss a goblin, young man?”

“Yes, sir!” Aeren replied with enthusiasm.

“And you, milady?” Hosk turned to Amele, taking her hand with a flourish.  “Have the goblins anything to fear from the avatar of Sandpoint’s feminine beauty?”  He gave her hand an ostentatious kiss as Alergast rolled his eyes.  “Surely Shelyn shall bless your attempt!”

“I’ll give it a shot, Hosk,” Amele said, as she grabbed on tight to Alergast’s arm.  “I don’t think we have anything to fear as long as Lieutenant Barett is here.”  The couple adoringly gazed into each other’s eyes with what really was a disgustingly sweet display of affection.

“I see she’s still in love with you, you big lug.”  The ranger gave a dramatically forlorn sigh.  “Respected Guard officer, good friend, beautiful wife, brave child, what did you do to earn so many of Sarenrae’s blessings?”

“Clean living, Dav.”  Alergast winked at the horseman.  “Clean living.  You should try it sometime.”  He grinned.  “And you’re slipping, my friend.  Are we going to stand around, or are we going to toss some goblins?”

TOSSIN’ GOBLINS RULES:   Three Goblins have found their way into your house and are tearing the place up! Grab them and toss them into the fireplace before they can destroy everything!  Take your three Goblins and toss them at the appropriate target.  Kids try and hit the biggest and closest hole, which is AC 10.  Women use the medium sized hole, which is AC 12, and adult men use the smallest and furthest hole, which is AC 15.  The bean bags have a range increment of 10' and there is no non-proficient penalty.  Get all three in and win a small bag of Chod Bevuk’s legendary venison jerky!!!  As you can see from my die rolls, Alergast hit all three of his shots, but Amele and poor Aeren only hit one each.  You can work that into your post if you like.   




Pisca Neep Freemish
Gnome Archaeolgist, 27 posts
Tue 3 Sep 2013
at 11:50
  • msg #10

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Anyone who's lived with the Sczarni learns that one of the first things to accomplish is to identify the faces of the city guard.  They were one of the first things that Jubrayl had pointed out when he and Pisca had walked the town that first day in Sandpoint.  And so it wasn't a surprise that the young gnome identified the entire Barett family plus Kellan Storval as they strolled in what was apparently the same direction that she, Lunk and Chask Haladan happened to be going.

It was for that reason that Pisca had at first hung back when she and her two friends first arrived at the Goblin Toss.  (Goblin beanbag toss, really.  With no actual goblins at all.)  Quietly and unobtrusively she watched.  At first.  She watched as it was explained that goblins had come sneaking in through the corn fields, dog slicers in hand.  She watched as the goblins quietly picked the locks on the doors of the unsuspecting Big People.  She watched as well, when, with a burst of goblin whoops, the troop of little nasty poo slingers went wild in the house, eating all the pie, leaving drawers open, and climbing to the tops of the cupboards where they always kept the sugar treats.

"Come on, Lunk!" the gnome shouted when all the goblins failed to be ejected.  "Come on!  They're still in the house, Mister Haladan!"

Savior Giant Pisca charged into the Goblin Toss game, stomping through the front room of the tiny hummie house and swept up one of the goblins in one massive fist.  "Aargh, little goblin," said Pisca looking down on the hapless squirming invader.  "You've caused enough trouble today."

"Here, casual human bystander," she said to Aeren Barett, throwing the squirming goblin to the Almost-Right-Sized human.  "Will we suffer goblins in the pantry?  No, we will not suffer goblins in the pantry.  THROW HIM OUT!!!"

"Yaaahr!  There's another one."  Giant Pisca swooped up two more.  "Here, Lunk!  Take him.  He's squirming. He's squirming!!!"  And sure enough, the goblin beanbag thrashed about in Giant Pisca's shaking hand until she ejected it in the direction of her Trusty Giant Companion.

"YAAAHRRR!"  The gnome was a destructive whirlwind as she raced about the house capturing and recapturing goblins as, again and again, they failed to be tossed out of the house.  (A house who's windows were obviously either too small or two far away.)  Ultimately, though the proper way to dispose of goblins was always best, and Pisca-The-One-Who-Always-Knows-These-Things, decided that enough was enough.

"We caught these little buggers red handed.  Uh, green handed," said Pisca the deputized city guardsgnome as she hands the beanbags up to Daviren Hosk.  "Make sure they're thrown into jail until they promise to behave, Sir."  And Pisca the heroic goblin fighter turned and gave the Almost-Right-Sized hummie, Aeren Barett a wink and a thumbs up.


You've gotta see the dice for the comic effect.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Tue 03 Sept 2013.
Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 20 posts
Tue 3 Sep 2013
at 21:31
  • msg #11

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

As Kellan listened to Alergasts explanation as to the nature of the game and the name of the stables Kellan nodded, his face betraying just a hint of concern. Kellan had faced goblins, or had at least shown up from time to time to run them off and thus far they had never shown any behavior one would attribute to beings with names, culture or superstition. All things considered they had behaved more like raccoons, sneaky, curious and always rummaging  for a good meal.

This train of thought led him to consider how one might learn a goblins name before it was killed, the results were a little disturbing. Make no mistake, more than a few of Sandpoints residents had cause to despise goblin kind. Everything from uprooted flower beds, missing pets to arson attacks were all blamed on the mischievous little devils and Kellan had even heard some Dwarves talking about how Goblins would steal infants from Dwarven strongholds to raise as slaves. Kellan glanced to little Vera despite himself and suddenly did not feel so bad about Daviren's preoccupations.

As they arrived at the game area Kellan and Dav exchanged handshakes, the boy managing not to blush at the praise. While Kellan was looking over the challenge however Pisca began her sudden imaginative scenario. Kellan could not help but smile at how little Aeren and the huge Lunk were instantly engaged in the drama of the event as the gnome directed the mayhem. Kellan tossed a few goblins for good measure, but did not hit a single mark, laughing all the while and overall just being distracted by the impromptu cleansing of the house and the subsequent Goblin apprehension.

Shaking his head while the others played he patted Alergast on the shoulder "Be right back" before making his way to the stables proper. Producing his apples he tempted Hakon over to the fence where he hand fed the big brute and patted his flank. While he was brushing the flies from Hakon's eyes Kellan noted a beautiful white mare that seemed to be a new addition. Admiring the horse he assumed it must have come from one of the more well off guests in town he winked knowingly to Hakon. "Don't you get any ideas now...I think she's out of your league" Hakon nudged him for a second apple  "Just being honest buddy, don't get too worked up" he smiled and dusted off his hands, going to rejoin the others before they headed towards the big ceremony at the Cathedral.

06:41, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 10 using 1d20+3. Goblin Tossin' Throw 3.
06:40, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 11 using 1d20+3. Goblin Tossin' Throw 2.
06:39, Today: Kellan Storval rolled 9 using 1d20+3. Goblin Tossin' Throw 1.

This message was last edited by the player at 00:39, Wed 04 Sept 2013.
Pisca Neep Freemish
Gnome Archaeolgist, 29 posts
Tue 3 Sep 2013
at 23:19
  • msg #12

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Before handing back the goblin beanbags, the strawberry blonde gnome took in the names written on each.  She separated one for the others and lifted it into the air.  "Alas poor Chuffy, I knew him well.  Ayamp!"  The last being the bite that Giant Pisca took from the beanbag's imaginary head.

"Hullo, I'm Pisca Neep Freemish," said Pisca Neep Freemish to the Baretts, introducing herself after handing the naughty goblins over for incarceration.  "And these are my friends the powerful but terribly modest and gentle Lunk and Chask Haladan the famous storyteller.  Do you mind if we wander along with you for a bit?"  The gnome's eyes followed Kellan Storval as he excused himself and headed toward the stables.  "Gnomes wander.  That's what they do best."  She took another glance in the direction of the departed Storval and his conversation with can only be a horse.

"Nice horse," she ventured.  "I hear young Kellan won the Ogre Stomp."
Alergast Barett
NPC, 5 posts
Sandpoint Guard
Thu 5 Sep 2013
at 05:56
  • msg #13

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale




Both Alergast and Dav Hosk watched with stunned bemusement as a gnome came charging into the Goblin Toss game and began treating it for all the world like she was a Giant Goblin-Grabbing Gnome here to Save Sandpoint.  Alergast gave Dav a grin as the gnome walked up to him with the goblin beanbags and handed them over as if they were captives in need of incarceration.  She then introduced herself as Pisca Neep Freemish.

“Greetings, Pisca,” Alergast smiled at the gnome’s sudden serious conversation so soon after her wanton silliness with the game.  “It is a pleasure to meet you.  I’m Alergast Barett, this is my wife Amele, my son Aeren, and my youngest Verah.”

He nodded in response to Pisca’s question.  “Kellan did indeed win the Ogre Stomp! contest.  If you ask him to show you his ribbon I’m sure he’ll oblige.  It’s quite . . . ribbony.”  Alergast winked at Pisca.  “But in all seriousness it was an epic effort and I could not be prouder of him.”

Speaking of contests and Kellan, that reminded Alergast of something.  “Where has Kellan gone?”  He saw his young friend walking back from the direction of the stables.  “Ah, there he is.”

“Hey Kellan!”  The big guardsman waved and shouted across the square.  “Guess what I got?”  He held up a bag and smiled.  “That’s right, venison jerky!  CHOD BEVUK’s venison jerky!”  He repeated, as if Kellan might mistake the source of the bag’s contents.  Alergast opened the bag and made a production out of enjoying the olfactory rewards that ensued.  “Mmmmm, that’s good!”  He took a piece out and popped it in his mouth, visibly savoring the taste.  “SO delicious!  You know why I have this and you don’t?”  The big guardsman nodded seriously.  “It’s because one of us can throw a beanbag through a hole and one of us cannot.”  He grinned at the opportunity to tease Kellan, an opportunity of which he planned to take FULL advantage.  “I don’t want to say I’m DISAPPOINTED, but, well . . .”

“LUNK!  YOU STUPID HALF-WIT!  WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?”  Conversation stopped as everyone in the marketplace turned to see Gorvi, the notorious drunkard and cruel-tempered half-orc junkmaster, with his hands on his hips, yelling at his largest employee.  Lunk immediately dropped the goblin beanbags he had been holding, looking for all the world like some child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry, boss, I thought . . .”  But Gorvi didn’t give the big man a chance to finish his sentence.

“IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR THE CONSECRATION CEREMONY, DUMBSHIT!”  Lunk’s faced flushed with embarrassment and his chin dropped to his chest as Gorvi chastised him.  “YOU SHOULD BE AT THE JUNKER’S EDGE GETTING READY FOR THE CLEANUP!!  WHICH YOU WILL BE, IF YOU STILL WANT A JOB!!!”

Lunk looked miserable as Gorvi turned and stomped off in a self-satisfied huff.  “I’m sorry, Pisca.  I’m sorry, Mister Chask.  But I’ve gotta go work.  Gorvi won’t be happy if I wait.”  Chask Haladan, whose face had hardened into stone during Gorvi’s tirade, put his hand on the giant man’s arm.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you like that, Lunk.”  The man’s measured voice seemed at odds with his not-quite-hidden anger.

“It’s okay, Mister Chask, I make lots of mistakes.  You might be mad too, if I worked for you.”  Lunk gave the bookseller a small, sad smile.  Working for Mister Chask would be a dream come true.  But he wasn’t smart enough to work for Mister Chask.  Lunk knew that.  “I’ve got to go, or Gorvi will yell at me again.”  Lunk dipped his head in farewell and turned, departing in the direction the junkmaster had so recently left.

“Why do we put up with that drunken half-orc?!?”  Chask addressed his complaint to the small group of goblin tossing participants.

“Because no one else will do his job.”  Alergast replied in a matter-of-fact tone.  “But that still doesn’t excuse what he just did.  Aeren, did you see that?”  The Barett boy nodded mutely.  “You are never, EVER to treat anyone the way that Gorvi just treated Lunk.  Just because someone works for you or isn’t as smart as you does not give you the right to treat them badly.  You understand, son?”  Aeren nodded back.  “Good.”

Alergast looked at Kellan.  “Speaking of jobs, we need to head back to the garrison, grab our weapons, and get back on duty before they start the ceremony.  There are going to be a lot of people leaving Sandpoint when it’s finished, and we want to make sure they all make it out alive.”  He grinned.  “And in an orderly fashion.”

The guard lieutenant reached into his pocket, produced a folded sheet of paper, and consulted it.  “Looks like you’re assigned to the cathedral square, and I’m down riding herd on the folks leaving by the Undercliff Bridge.”  Alergast made a face.  “That should be fun.”

He turned to Amele.  “Okay, beautiful, we’ll see you after the ceremony, okay?”  He gave his wife a hug,  then kissed Aeren and little Verah.  Family obligations met, he turned back to Kellan.  “Come on, Champion, let’s go.”

OOC:  Pisca and Kellan, please end your next posts up by the cathedral area, ready to observe the consecration ceremony.





This message was last edited by the player at 05:57, Thu 05 Sept 2013.
Kellan Storval
Human Fighter, 26 posts
Thu 5 Sep 2013
at 08:47
  • msg #14

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

Kellan turned to walk back towards the group at about the time Alergast called out to him. Earnestly thinking something was afoot he gave his Lieutenant his full and undivided attention just in time to see him open the coveted bag of artisanal dried meat. Kellan crossed his arms and gave a series of nods, directing more than half of them towards the ground as his mentor savored the smokey little morsel.

"Yes, yes I'm sure it's..." Kellan began, but no, this good natured taunting was far from over.

As Alergast chewed slowly on the desiccated treat, loudly portraying his satisfaction with such a rare and memorable culinary experience he paused to take the time to remind Kellan than he had been vanquished by an imaginary fireplace and a parcel of goblin dolls. Kellan was displaying a rather exasperated smile and was now gesturing with an open palm towards his superior officer while looking expectantly to Amele as if to say "This, this is who I trust my life to every day, you married him"

Kellan was brewing a fine retort, something he was sure would be timely, witty, brilliant...just as a stream of abuse from Gorvi interrupted his train of thought. Turning his attention towards the half Orc, along with the rest of the bystanders he watched as the vile man berated the simple Lunk. Unfortunately Kellan was well inured to Gorvi's style of supervision, they could not arrest the man for being cruel, even if most of the guard would happily deal out a little impromptu justice againt the drunkard if given the opportunity.

The magical atomophere of the festival nigh obliterated by the tirade, Kellan rejoined the family and watched approvingly as Alergast took the opportunity to teach young Aeren a valuable lesson. Kellan offered Pisca a friendly nod as she was obviously getting acquainted with the Baretts before he was instructed to report for duty.

Giving a wave to the assembled, Pisca included, Kellan fell into step with Alergast for the short walk back to the Garrison.

"Gorvi best watch himself, I wouldn't mind being there the day that Lunk decides that he has had enough." Kellan suggested softly as they moved

They managed to cover everything from the orderly departure of the crowds to shift rotation and the VIPs just before they arrived. Taking a damp cloth Kellan wiped down his uniform, adjusted his chain mail, and otherwise made himself presentable before hefting his poleaxe from the rack. Taking one last moment to put his game face on before nodding to Lieutenant Barett, he stepped into the street on his way towards the Cathedral.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:50, Thu 05 Sept 2013.
Pisca Neep Freemish
Gnome Archaeolgist, 36 posts
Thu 5 Sep 2013
at 13:52
  • msg #15

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

What could a gnome have done?  What could anyone have done?  Brutal. Savage.  And the half-orc was too.  Such mean words.

"HEY!  YOU ... " Pisca called after the half-orc.  But, by that time, he had stumbled off, vanishing into the crowd of hummie heads that all turned to mark his passage, rippling like the wake of a boat.  "Grrrrrr," Savage Pisca growled.  Her small pink hands balled into fists of gnomish vengeance.  But then, "Oh, wait!  Wait, Lunk!  Wait!"  She ran after him.  And before her Gentle Giant could disappear after his Ogre Thrall-Master, she caught him and raised up her arms as though to be lifted up.

"I'll come save you some day."  Her whispered words were as fierce as the hug she threw around his neck when he bent down to her.  "I will, Lunk.  I will."  Then she let him go.  He rose and turned away.  And so there they parted, both slaves to the cruel whims of practical reality.

"You're very kind, Mister Haladan," the gnome said to her last remaining friend.  She returned a nod and a wave to Kellan Storval of the departing town guard, though her response was muted, colored by the sadness and frustration within her.  "I could just punch him, you know?" she added.  "Uh, not the town guard.  The half-orc."  And then came the curse.   "Gorvi, E focaccina tostata verme."  Pisca included a gesture to accent her Varisian invective, firing both off in the general direction of the local junk and garbage dealer.  There had to be something she could do.  Something.

Then it came.  Like another vision from the darkest burrows of the ancestral fay, it came to her.

"A library!"  The gnome put fist to palm.  (A sure sign of an idea.)

"Mister Haladan?"  With her large gleaming violet eyes, Pisca beamed an irresistible gnomish smile up at the human.  (A sure sign to beware of said idea.)  "Have you ever thought of starting a library?  You have all those books already.  If you had a few more books that a certain gnome might collect from places all over Varisia - from all over Avistan, or even all of Golarion - and send back to you here, well, then you'd have to have somewhere to keep them, now, wouldn't you?  And if you had a place to keep all those books, you'd have to have someone to help you around the place.  To sweep the floors, to dust the high shelves, and to carry armloads of books up the impossibly daunting stairs.  Right?  And you'll want someone big and strong.  Like Lunk.  Right?  That's it!"  Again the fist smacked down into the palm.

"Well, Pisca, that's very well and good."  Chask Haladan was no fool.  And, as well intentioned as the gnome's efforts were, they were also, from all appearance, plainly ill thought out.  "That's a fine sentiment, Pisca.  But I don't think that things are as simple as that.  Libraries require upkeep over time.  These necessities are often provided through the patronage of wealthy individuals or groups.  They're rarely an individual effort.  Individual efforts are more in terms of a collection like mine."

"Financing.  Right," the gnome nodded in reply.  Her face was set into serious lines of gnomish determination.  She reached for her pouch and fished out five gold coins.  "Why don't we start with this?  I'll ask around town for other sponsors.  It might not all be in coin.  Labor.  Building materials.  Food, maybe.  Maybe sponsorship from the town itself.  Mayor Deverin.  There are children here.  Parents will want a library."

Reaching up, Pisca took the hand of Chask Haladan and pressed the five coins into his palm.  The gnome fixed the human with a surprisingly firm stare.  "Take these.  There will be more," she said.  And without another word, she turned and walked into the crowd.  Behind her, Chask Haladan stood blinking in surprise, his hand filled with a surprising amount of coin.  What was he to do with this?  He turned one way and then another as though the answer to his question might somehow be available around him.

Meanwhile, Pisca the Mover and the Shaker, Pisca the Civilizer, Pisca The Bringer of Libraries to the Frontier, wended her way toward the new cathedral.  The consecration ceremony would be where all the important people would be.  That would be the best place to start.  She'd talk to the mayor first.  Yes.  The mayor.


Please take 5gp off Pisca's character sheet.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:40, Thu 05 Sept 2013.
The Raconteur
GM, 74 posts
Teller of Tales
Writer of Wrongs
Thu 5 Sep 2013
at 19:10
  • msg #16

Re: Thread #1c - Swallowtail Tales:  The Fighter's Tale

FADE TO BLACK (Continued in Thread #2:  Encounter at Sandpoint)
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