Kharash looked in the direction of the tilts for a second, but then decided to head the other way. The Rose will probably appear on the last day anyway, he thought to himself as he headed in the direction of the carnival. He had heard the rumors, and decided to take a closer look himself. His shoulders moved back and forth in the rhythm of his slow but large steps. Moving through the throngs of people was much easier than expected. A path opened up before him and closed again after him, allowing him to move without bumping into anyone. Quite a feat, as his equipment made his figure even larger than it already was. He thought most people were simply afraid of him, but the longer he waded through the crowds the more he noticed that it wasn't fear, but respect that moved these people. He felt proud and openly showed his amulet.

@Brother Sul: The inn keeper gives you a dubious glare, obviously wondering why a man of faith would take so easily to the cup. He seems to shrug it off as he turns his attention to a silver elf at the counter. Instead, he sends a homely barmaid with a bright smile to help him. "Another of the bitter, love? Seems too much more and you will have to move the tap to the table," she says with a bubbly laugh.

@Fariel: The bartender turns to you and begins to clean glasses with a questionably clean towel. "How can I help one of the woodland folk? It is not often that I catch glimpses this far south, master elf," his tone is cautious, but not overly so. He seems more tolerant now, you suspect, than he would otherwise if not for the festival.

@Griswold:The man seems no worse for wear as he smiles happily in a drunken stupor. The crowd has seemed to ignore most the commotion and even the most enterprising of the hobgoblin guards have turned a blind eye to drunken fools and those not actively looting them.

@Sigi: The line easily fills the gap that you have left in your wake. As you make your way to the touted meeting area for the lots, you find that many are staring. Half-Dwarfs, or Stouts in the Kriegian derogatory, are not welcome many places outside of the dockyards and piers. Still, you are not troubled more than that as you take a place front and center near the stage.

@Kharash: Before long, you find yourself in front of the multitude of tents and stalls that compose the halfling carnival. It seems that most are empty of customers and patrons, the rumors doing little help business. However, there seems to be one area that is drawing a large crowd. The garish purple and blue tent stands out even among the others. A hawker, of course one of the small folk, stands on a platform of boxes dressed in a fine suit. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I invite you, for the cost of only two copper pennies, to see the wonders of the adventuring world! Behold the magic and mystery that us normal folk could only dream of! Well dream no more! Face the horror without the danger! Marvel at magic without years of study! Come and enjoy Arkham Arcanium's Den of Wonder!"

Gazing at the overly cheerful barmaid Sul struggled to smile, then gave up with an inward shrug. "My thanks woman, but don't you worry. I can hold my drink, about all I can hold these dark days it would seem. And my coin is still good."

As he dismissed the serving lady the entry of a curious individual caught Sul's attention for a moment, breaking him out of his depressive thoughts. It was a Silver Elf, of lithe figure like all their kind. Elves were not known to frequent human towns much, and seedy inns far less. Were there elven knights taking part in the tournament, assuming there was such a thing as a fae knight, or was he here for some archery competition?

Wondering thus, Sul eyed the fair haired fae while taking another sip from his cup, hardly feeling the sting of the bitter draught by now as it trickled down the back of his throat, and again he started thinking about this task here.

Perhaps he could take part in the melee, and attract the attention of some possible warriors and knights that way? The comforting weight of the warhammer leaning at the side of the table by his leg affirmed, at least to Sul, he could do well enough against any opponent in a place like this.

Fariel gave the barkeep a smile. Time to shine, he supposed.

"Hello, good sir! I was wondering if you could tell me what you know about the carnival at the edge of town. I'd love to hear something..."

the young elf slid his hand towards the bartender. he opened it, revealing 2 gold coins.

"...particularly interesting, or perhaps where to find such information."

"Oh, come now." Eli handed the reigns back to Griswold with one hand and slapped the shoulder of his light-haired friend with the other. "Have you learned nothing of making an impression?" He gave a mischievous grin and let the question hang ominously for a moment before turning with a wave for Griswold to follow. "You never seek them out. You give them a reason to seek you... which is why I may have signed you up to compete in the knightly competitions." Again he paused to allow this new information to sink in. "No need to thank me, of course. As you were a late entry, it took a bit of convincing for them to allow you to compete, but they could hardly refuse once they had heard of your many accomplishments leading up to this which would certainly provide a grand performance the likes of which this tournament has never seen." The more he spoke, the more his volume rose and the more frequent his occasional exaggerated sweeping arm movements accompanied his speech as though he were practicing to introduce a knight of great renown... never mind the fact that he didn't actually know many (if any) of Griswold's real-life accomplishments.

Eli's steps became a bit more lively as he picked up the pace. "Come on, Sir Ortman. You don't want to be late for your grand debut..." The dark-haired Half-Elf's increased pace may have been to hurry Griswold along toward the competition, though it was more likely to keep him just out of Griswold's immediate reach... just in case.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:56, Thu 05 Jan 2017.

"You did what?" Griswold's eyes were wide with shock.  "You probably have no idea how many protocols you've just broken!  And made me complicit in! I am a squire!"  He grabbed the medallion around his neck and thrust it out toward Eli. "A squire on his trial no less!  I have yet to earn my knighthood.  I am no sir, as everyone will know as soon as they see this.  And all my 'deeds' need to be reported back to the knightly orders!  Lies and falsifications are big no-nos.  And I mean big."

A few moments passed in painful contemplation, before being broken by a nervous chuckle.  "Oh to the gorgon with it!  I'll just come clean and hope for the best.  And to think you were worried about some horny old farmer catching up to us about his ticket!  So what did you sign me up for, you crafty blaggard?  Archery?  Duels?  Jousting?  Please don't say jousting - Jacoby here is a fine animal, but he's no warhorse and I've not plate to wear.  The Gods know this chain is uncomfortable enough."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:20, Thu 05 Jan 2017.

Another halfling stood besides the entrance to the tent. He was carrying a wooden box, that hung around his neck with a leather strap. As Kharash made his way towards the tent he fished 2 copper coins out of his pouch and put them in the wooden box. Upon hearing the sound of the two coins falling, the halfling pulled a rope and the piece of cloth that was the 'door' was pulled sideways.

Kharash had to lower his head to enter, and once his eyes were adjusted to the dark he found himself a place to stand in the back, not too far from the entrance.

@Brother Sul: The woman gives a half frown when you don't take to her invitation for banter. Obviously she was hoping to earn a few more coin by flirting her way into it. Still, the drink is flowing and no one else seems to be a bother.

@Fariel: The bartender skillfully palms the coin in a motion you suspect is either well practice or often performed. He smiles and shrugs, continuing his work on the kitchenware. "Seems they have a reputation of hosting unnatural things in such a carnival. None of the guards have taken too keen an interest, so nothing must be amiss, wouldn't you think?", he asks in a tone that gives the heavy implication of something interesting is going on there.

@Eli and Griswold: Before the conversation can go much further, a particularly skinny goblin appears before you. A sour milk stench hits you before you actually see him, but he appears at least somewhat presentable. He cocks an eyebrow at the medallion before holding out a small scroll, sealed with wax and the emblem of the Dragon Legion. "Summons from Sir Roderick of Carsen for Sir Griswold Ortmann. There must be another of your description, for I was told I was looking for a knight," he says with an even mix of caution and disgust.

@Kharash: The doorman greedily takes the pennies and ushers you into a dimly lit corridor. The walls are crude wooden pallets and it is obvious the carnival is well deserving of its shady reputation. The corridor ends abruptly into a well lit alcove with a gathering crowd. Before them is a massive glass enclosure and a strange black substance in it. You hear the bleat of a goat and see the animal suspended in the air. It is obvious that the holder on the lowering device is waiting for a few more people. [Private to Kharash: Make an Int check to identify the substance]

Unnatural things?

Sul's ears perked at the innkeepers comments, and he quickly downed the remained of his drink to mask his expression and interest as he gathered his thoughts.

It really was none of his business, and thus far Sul was more interested in his own plan to join the general melee, assuming there would be one, win some glory and use that to attract some knights and warriors to his cause. He really did not have time or the desire to get caught up in anything else.

Still, his curiosity was piqued by the innkeepers comments, and Sul's training and the oaths he had taken to protect the world from the encroaching darkness of the Primordials and their spawn rose to the surface of his consciousness

Slamming the cup down onto the table he dabbed at his lips and hefted his warhammer, slinging it to his belt as he rose. Picking his shield up he attached it to his back in a practiced motion and then walked over to the bar where the elf stood.

"What I owe, bartender, plus some extra for your trouble." He explained, as he tossed some coins onto the bar, inclining his head to the silver elf by way of greeting. "Now, what did you mean by 'unnatural things' at this carnival? Anything...dangerous for the townsfolk?"

[Private to GM: Please deduct the charges for the drinks and 5 coppers extra from my monies.]

Griswold's face exploded into a vision of welcome and glee at the goblin's arrival (despite the smell).  "Well met, friend!  You've done well finding me amongst this incredible throng.  You're eyes must be sharp as a barber's razor.  Especially given the unfortunate circumstances of my misrepresentation.

"Indeed, I am both Griswold Ortmann and not yet a sir.  I have just learnt about this dire misunderstanding and was about to head over to the lists to clear it up.  I will make sure this Sir Roderick of Carsen knows of your diligence.  Come, Jacoby."

The half elf walked away with reins in hand, trying to appear as proper as possible.

OOC:
09:16, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 19 using 1d20+4.  Persuasion - attempting to mollify the goblin.

Kharash slowly walked up to the glass. The whole scene unnerved him, but he didn't let it show. After a moment he returns to the back of the crowd, watching and waiting for what was about to happen.

---

19:53, Today: Kharash rolled 12 using 1d20-1.  Black substance (INT).

"Your eyes do not deceive you, noble messenger. Before you stands th..." Eli had just begun a grand arm gesture to accentuate his words when Griswold, in what was probably the better of the two options, spoke over him and went with the honest approach.



As the pair walked off, Eli leaned over and whispered to his friend. "I remember you being a bit more in favor of an exciting adventure than this. Back then, we would have at least tried to see just how far we could go with that." Eli flashed a mischievous grin. "I dont know where you hid him, but I suppose I'll just have to find him again."

Sigi stood toward the front of the stage, her face stoic and emotionless. She waited patiently for the lots to be drawn.

These fools can sneer all they want. I'll be walking past their grandchildrens graves before I've even opened a forge of my own.

Fariel gave a little smile.

"Yes, please do go-on, good sir. I would be...very interested to hear all you have to say on this subject"

The young Silver Elf turned to acknowledge the Holy Man. "have you any interest in...investigating this carnival? Your curiosity seems as piqued as mine. Perhaps we could pool our resources? I am Fariel, of the Kal-Helas."

Griswold stopped and turned to Eli.  For once, his face was serious.  "Listen, Eli.  I still enjoy a laugh, but this one threatened my trial.  And I really want that knighthood.  A few words might not seem like such a big thing, but trust me.  They are. Besides - and I know it is hard for you to understand, but -" the handsome half-elf opened his arms wide, "when you've got all of this going on, you don't need lies!"

With a loud laugh Griswold turned his back to Eli again, waved the scroll given him by the goblin in the air and shouted back, "Now come, my homely serf!  The games await!"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:05, Mon 09 Jan 2017.

@Brother Sul and Fariel: The bartender sniffs loudly at the intervention of the holy man, but pays no mind. He appears to think for a minute and then leans into the two inquiring men. "I heard the carnival is a front. Seems to be an easy way for some madman to make money off of the curiosity of simple folk by showing them dangerous monsters. All it would take is just one getting loose to cause a whole mess of problems," he finishes with a shrug and then moves down the bar to another customer, obviously finished giving Fariel his money's worth.

@Kharash: The crowd does not take long to gather and although you cannot identify the substance exactly, you do think it to be more than a mere liquid. You suspicions are confirmed as the showman makes a grand appearance from a puff of smoke. The acrid smell is distracting as he begins to speak to the crowd. "Folks, what you see before you in this glass case in not tar or sludge or even viscous oil. No, you would be hard pressed to find this substance outside of ancient caverns and bleak ruins. Watch and be amazed, be horrified, and you can even be shocked! But do not be afraid as you witness the grotesqueness of the Black Terror of Jelhurst!", he cries as the goat is lowered slowly towards the substance. With sudden swiftness, a long tendril wraps itself around the goat. Smoke begins to rise in wisps as the smell of burning hair spreads. The goat begins to scream in pain as it is slowly enveloped. A nasty gurgling sound emanates from the creature as the goat's mouth is covered and the ooze flows in. The sound and smell of people retching begins to overtake the grisly scene before you.

@Eli and Griswold: The goblin thinks for a moment before bowing and handing you a receipt and taking a portion of it for himself. "Very good, sir. It is not my business to pry, I only wished to deliver the message to the correct knight. Any misunderstanding is yours to deal with. Good day," he says as he dashes away to make another delivery. The scroll has very little contents, only being a more eloquently written formal request. Sir Roderick has a tent near the rest of the Dragon Legion men and the place is jovial as people greet long time friends separated by the toils of knighthood. Banter between the Dragoons and what looks to be a group of Argonauts is in full swing as two men engage in a contest of strength.

@Sigi: A well dressed man, noble by the look, takes center stage and removes a scroll from his side. Close inspection reveals that scroll has the seal of a wax rose. He opens the scroll and clears his throat as he begins to read, his voice loud and smooth to listen to.
"Three days of festival, three days of fun;
The prize all seek to still be won.
But careless not the path before is tread,
Lest witless seekers join the dead.
If you are wishing to meet the Rose,
These are how your instruction go.

Four tasks to meet and four to beat,
The first of which is to find your feet.
In three hours time the tale will tell
The groups moving where the trials dwell.
Once complete, the tasks only start
To test your mind, not your heart.
Two tests remain to exercise skill
And both are surely to be a thrill.
But steel your soul for the final task,
And after, in glory, you will surely bask."
He finishes and announces the official start of the contest to meet the Rose.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:55, Mon 09 Jan 2017.

Kharash looked in disgust at the grizzly scene, but was able to hold his stomach. He frowned as he looked from the strange black substance to the showman. What is... He didn't know why he did it, perhaps as a reflex. But he closed his eyes, raised his head and held the amulet around his neck. As he opened his eyes again, they were shining in a white light.

He once more closed and opened his eyes, and the light had faded. With his eyes turned back to normal, he made his way to the front. "What is this abomination!?" he shouted at the showman. His voice deep and loud. "Are you out of your mind bringing such a dangerous creature to this festival!?"

---

Using Divine Sense.

Shrugging lightly at the elf's words Sul smiled and intoned, "You can call me Brother Sul, for we are all but brothers sheltering in the warmth and light of the Silver Flame." The words appeared ritualistic, as if part of a standard greeting, and though Sul did not appear resigned in the uttering them he did appear weary as he spoke, as if a burden weighed heavily upon his broad shoulders. "I am interested in the tournament more than the carnival itself, why? Are you here to watch or perform yourself?"

Before he could say more the innkeeper dispensed with his information and Brother Sul's eyes narrowed in alarm. Normally he would not place such importance on heresay and superstition, but given his recent experience with a living and breathing (especially breathing) myth he would never discount such dire rumors lightly.

"I see...and if I am correct about the tourney would ensure some of the most capable warriors in the lands around are here, gathered in one location," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully with his arms folded over his armor. Glancing at Fariel he said, "Suddenly I am quite interesting in investigating this carnival, friend Fariel. Let us make our way there and see what there is to see, and pray it is nothing to worry about."

Griswold watches the knights with glee as he manoeuvres through the informal contest waving his scroll around.  "My apologies my Lords, however I have been summoned by Sir Roderick of Carsen.  I believe that there might have been a little misunderstanding."

Upon arriving, Eli resists his instinctual urge to attempt to continue his ruse from earlier. Instead, he quietly allows Griswold to speak and observes the course of events from there. Griswold, it would seem, had changed (or at least was trying to change) quite a bit in the years since they had known each other as kids. For now, he was content to watch and see what happened.

Unless there were additional announcements, Sigi walked away from the stage. She kept repeating the rhyme to herself, committing it to memory and searching for hidden meaning. It seemed the trial grounds were the first placed to head, but she had time. Nonetheless the young half-dwarf started wandering towards the trial grounds.

@Kharash: The showman seemed none too perturbed by the large dragonborn, though many of the patrons seemed to take the hint to retire from the tent. The showman looked his accuser up and down before gesturing to the glass enclosure. "Tell me, watcher, what laws have I broken? I am outside of the town itself and the creature is feasting on a goat, not a person. So tell me. What have I done wrong? Why do you not have a legion of guardsman at your back?" ,he said in a glib tone. It seems a very rehearsed speech.

@Brother Sul and Fariel: The carnival is easy enough to find and gain entrance to, provided you are still looking to go.

@Eli and Griswold: One of the Dragoons breaks away from the crowd and gives a look at the scroll and then the medallion on display by Griswold. He reaches out and fingers it for a second, looking on the reverse, a wide smile erupting from his face. The Dragoon turns back to the contest and shouts, "Carsen! Some whelp errant-not even declared!- is looking for you. He has a scroll with your seal." The Dragoon engaged in the contest breaks away and flings a few gold at the Argonauts, who roar in disappointment at the end of the contest. The large man, as he stands tall at his full stature, approaches and looks down at Griswold and then the scoll. He glares at the medallion and a scowl burns daggers at Griswold. "Explain yourself," is all he says in a tone that would brook nothing but the truth.[Private to Griswold Ortmann: Make an opposed charisma check to avoid being intimidated][Private to Eli Reiner: Make an opposed charisma check to avoid being intimidated]

@Sigi: The trial grounds are busy, but not actively engaged, as most of the action will come in the next few days. For now, you are left to ponder the mystery of the riddle.[Private to Sigi Stonebrow: Make a Intelligence check for a hint at the riddle. You may substitute another skill if you have adequate reasoning.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:12, Mon 16 Jan 2017.

Shrugging as the elf did not answer, Sul decided to go and meander through the carnival himself, and see if the rumors the innkeeper spoke of were true. If not, he could re-focus onto the original task he had set for himself.

Whatever the case he would be running out of money and options soon, and needed a break of luck desperately.

"I would like to accompany you, Brother Sul. I believe something is...afoot at this carnival."

Fariel left his stool and gave the barkeep a nod, following the holy man out of the bar.

You both find the carnival easy enough. There seems to be a tent with many people leaving covered in retch. There are several people arguing and strangely no guards are present despite the commotion.