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    CB's Pathfinder Beta -- Burnt Offerings

    Sandpoint
    [imagel]http://paizo.com/image/content/RiseOfTheRunelords/Sandpoint_500.jpeg[/imagel]
    1. Sandpoint Cathedral
    2. Boneyard
    3. The White Deer Tavern and Inn
    4. The Way North (cartographer)
    5. Kesk's Jewelry
    6. Junker's Edge (junkyard)
    7. Gorvi's Shack (dungsweeper)
    8. Brodert Quink (sage)
    9. Locksmith
    10. Sandpoint Garrison and Jail
    11. Sandpoint Town Hall
    12. Savah's Armory
    13. Risa's Place (tavern)
    14. Rovanky Tannery
    15. Red Dog Smithy
    16. The Pillbug's Pantry (apothecary)
    17. Tander's Bottled Solutions (alchemist)
    18. Cracktooth's Tavern
    19. House of Blue Stones (monastery)
    20. Sandpoint Glassworks
    21. Sandpoint Savories (bakery)
    22. The Curious Goblin (bookshop)
    23. Sandpoint Theater
    24. Carpenter's Guild
    25. Sandpoint Lumber Mill
    26. General Store
    27. Turandarok Academy (orphanage/school)
    28. Madame Mvashti's House (seer)
    29. Grocer's Hall (market)
    30. Vernah's Fine Clothing
    31. Wheen's Wagons
    32. Scarnetti Mill (grain)
    33. The Hagfish (tavern)
    34. Valdemar Fishmarket
    35. Sandpoint Market
    36. Sandpoint Meat Market
    37. The Rusty Dragon (tavern and inn)
    38. Goblin Squash Stables
    39. Two Knight Brewery
    40. Sandpoint Mercantile League
    41. Sandpoint Boutique (used goods)
    42. Fatman's Feedbag (tavern)
    43. The Pixie's Kitten (brothel)
    44. The Feathered Serpent (reliquary)
    45. Hannah's (herbalist)
    46. Sandpoint Shipyard
    47. Valdemar Manor
    48. Scarnetti Manor
    49. Kaijitsu Manor
    50. Deverin Manor

 

  • #2
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    Third Sunday of the month of Rova, 10 a.m.

    In the bucolic town of Sandpoint along the western Varisian coast, folk have been up for hours busily preparing for the first day of autumn and the annual Swallowtail Festival. Along with the town's annual festivities intended to honor the region's bountiful harvests gifted by Erastil, today marks a date long looked to by the Sandpoint locals. The New Sandpoint Cathedral, five years in the making, will be consecrated at sunset by the hand of Sandpoint's own Father Abstalar Zantus. Necessitated some five years distant by an unfortunate and grisly series of events which the locals discretely refer to as the "late unpleasantness," the new cathedral is a marvel of superior craftsmanship, its solid construction the hallmark of Sandpoint's well-regarded if somewhat infamous Mercantile League.

    The square abutting the cathedral is a beehive of activity. Several merchants have set up tents to vend food, clothes, local crafts, souvenirs, and drink. Others folk have arrived early, hoping to gain positions near the podiums in front of the church and the tables set up beyond. Wooden buffets laden with all manner of delectable foodstuffs both savory and sweet flank a stodgy podium at the bottom of the cathdral's stone steps. The picnic set, members of the church's congregation are joined by Sandpoint's craftsmen, artisans, shopkeepers, general citizenry, and ne'er-do-wells alike in the square. With the Swallowtail Festival set to begin promptly as scheduled, the turnout for the festival's opening speeches looks to be respectable. The throng crowding the square before the church thickens as the last of the servers loading the buffet bustles to and fro and several merchants loudly hawk goods up and down Church Street.

    Walding Spaulder, Sandpoint's unofficial town crier, pushes his way to the forefront of the throng. "Make way, make way! Make way for the Honorable Mayor Deverin!" The last of the servers hustle away from the buffet tables as the crowd parts to the right to admit an attractive human woman in her late 20s, her dark hair cropped short in a pragmatic yet becoming style. Wincing at Walding's boisterous introduction, Mayor Deverin nevertheless nods her thanks at the crier, who unctuously smiles at the compliment ere fading back into the crowd. "Thank you, Walding. Good morning, everyone."

    The mayor fixes the crowd with a friendly attitude. Her excitement obvious, Mayer Deverin draws a breath and expands her voice so that all gathered may hear. "I see everyone's arrived. Even Larz Rovanky has left off tanning hides to be here. I'm sure his workers are glad it's not their hides getting tanned, at least not today." The Mayor's jest does not go unnoticed; when the chuckles die down and Larz stops glowering, Mayor Deverin continues. "It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. As Mayor, I invite you on behalf of our citizenry and the Sandpoint Mercantile League to be welcome within our walls. I hope you shall find the food to your liking, the hosts gracious, and your beds inviting! Sandpoint has much to offer, and 'tis our hope that guests be extended the salt and bread of friendship. Spend some time in Sandpoint and you'll grow to love it like we do. And even if you don't stay long, spend your money while youre here!" At the mayor's words, several of the merchants vigorously applaud and the crowd itself laughs. Letting the throng settle before continuing further, Mayor Deverin says, "And to all of the old and new faces I see, thank you for your many long hours of planning and preparation, that this year's Swallowtail Festival might meet with success. It is a joy to see you attend our event, and you have my personal gratitude for your gracious help in keeping Sandpoint strong. Thank you especially for all the time, sweat equity, and love you've put into building this fine cathedral that so proudly stand behind me on this fine day. After the late unpleasantness, Sandpoint wasn't complete without her church. We've always had heart. The true heart of Sandpoint is you, her people. But now we have an expression of that heart, and we built it ourselves!"

    The crowd roars its appreciation of the Mayor's opening remarks, making any further comments rendered by Her Honorship inaudible for a long minute. At the last, Mayor Deverin shouts over the applause and cheers, "Thank you, thank you all. And without further ado, let me introduce the next speaker, our own sheriff, Belor Hemlock!" Stepping to the left, the Mayor yields the podium to a dark-skinned bulky man, clearly of Shoanti descent, who wears mail and sports a sharply-honed longsword strapped to his back, largely as symbol of office. Still, the blade gleams with intent in the strong autumn morning and the dour-voiced Sheriff nods to the Mayor and strides to the podium.

    With eyes that sweep the throng, searching for and marking the location of potential troublemakers, Sheriff Hemlock grips the wooden podium and makes brief remarks to the crowd. "Thank you Mayor. Even in the heat of celebration, let us not forget the sad events that brought us to this day. And also let us not forget the souls that were lost five years ago at the hands of Chopper. I would like you to all join me in a moment of silence to remember the lives that were lost in the fire that claimed our previous chapel." The crowd silences itself and joins the Sheriff in a mass lowering of heads. The proud and joyful remarks of the Mayor are forgotten and even after Sheriff Hemlock raises his head to continue, the silence proves nearly defeaning. Beginning awkwardly, the Sheriff frowns but continues in his grim voice. "In remembering, let us also not allow these events to repeat themselves. I am of the understanding that a bonfire is planned for tonight. I urge you all to observe caution during this event." At a glance and a nudge from Mayor Deverin, the Sheriff clears his throat and smiles, clearly making an uncomfortable attempt at levity. "Enjoy yourselves. Let me introduce the next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprieter of the local theater."

    Nodding to the crowd, Sheriff Hemlock walks back to his seat at a nearby table, passing the next speaker, a slim human man already on his way up to the center stage. The theater proprietor proves quite a contrast to the Sheriff. Brightly dressed, sporting a well-groomed and neatly clipped goatee and effeminate mannerisms, Cyrdak Drokkus is effusive in his praise for the day. "Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory! I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished," Cyrdak motions to the cathedral. "And I'm telling you, they spared no expense on this place. Father Zantus's chamber pot? Solid gold! I kid you not, our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of the sanctuary. I've heard it spoken 'round town that all of the Gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the goodly Father over there is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him get things going, I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to attend the Varisian premier of Sandpoint Theater's "The Harpy's Curse," starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera the Harpy Queen! Say it with me, folks--fab-u-lous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Zantus!"

    The crowd cheers as Cyrdak motions Zantus to the podium. The priest, while young, looks firmly confident of his position within both town and church, if somewhat noticeably abashed at the reception set up for him. Wearing the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck, Father Zantus smiles genially and calms the crowd by raising two open palms to the heavens. "Ahem, thank you. Thank you, Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most holy day. Today is a day of new beginnings, so without boring you with a long speech, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!" As the crowd cheers its approval, Father Zantus nods and gestures for all who are gathered to enjoy the buffet picnic spread before them.

    Themselves seated at tables or standing at their leisure, Taran, Talasia, Elyra, Grokk, Tac, and Sivan are present in the church square for the morning's opening ceremonies. A pair of fishwives grouse to one another as they mill past the left flank of the series of buffet tables. "...an' can ye believe it, Trudie? Where she found the coin, I do no hazard a guess, but it's ter be free vittles agin this yahr. I'm a tha thinking that me and my Frances might do well ter take up at the Rusty Dragon and juss fer once git us a taste o' ole Ameiko's savories..."
    Last edited by CanadienneBacon; Thursday, 4th June, 2009 at 06:13 PM.

  • #3
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    Tac Abor, human rogue

    Ever since Elyra had come to Sandpoint, Tac found himself unable to focus on what first to show her, the end result of which had been a lot of doubling back and around town in an effort to give a tour.

    But now it was time for the cathedral's dedication, and whatever else might be of interest in town, Tac only had eyes for the building he'd spent so long working on.

    "There, see that buttress? I designed that! Well, all right, I didn't design it so much as I drafted it from the chief engineer's specifications. But still! I put it on paper, and then they built it--I helped with that, too, you know! Mortar's a bear to clean out of a tunic, but there's really nothing like putting your hands to work and making sure it's all just right. And then all of a sudden these chicken scratches and figures on paper are there! Holding up a whole wall!"

    The young man's grin threatened to eat up his entire face, and it wasn't quite clear if he was actually breathing, as quickly as he spoke. Eventually, of course, he turned to see his cousin, and blushed.

    "I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm sorry. It's just ... well, you know, the cathedral's been the only thing I've paid any attention to for so long. What do you think?"

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    Quote Originally Posted by jkason View Post

    The young man's grin threatened to eat up his entire face, and it wasn't quite clear if he was actually breathing, as quickly as he spoke. Eventually, of course, he turned to see his cousin, and blushed.

    "I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm sorry. It's just ... well, you know, the cathedral's been the only thing I've paid any attention to for so long. What do you think?"
    Elyra gave a little smile, trying to organize her thoughts. It was incredible to see her little cousin involved in this. In her travels she had always marveled at the ancient ruins and monuments of Varisia. They seemed to her like graffiti written on the landscape by ancient civilizations that refused to be forgotten, denying time the pleasure of erasing them by defiantly piling stone upon stone. This cathedral was a piece of that from her own generation, and her cousin's hands and mind had played a part in it. It was something grander than Elyra would ever do.

    But, as always, she could not find words for the spirit. "It is very grand," she said awkwardly, "It is good that you are part of it."

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    As wondrous a sight as it is, the tawny-colored rough collie's attention isn't on the gleaming new Cathedral. He'd been present when its corner stone was laid and had since then spent enough idle hours around the site to be intimately familiar with the structure's every nook and cranny. It isn't even the bustling crowd of merrymakers that holds his attention captive. He personally knows or at least recognizes most of the locals; the rest are merely visitors who would be leaving following the end of the festival. No, the focus of the dog's attention are the bustling buffet tables. They represent a precious though fleeting commodity that the famished canine intends to benefit from before it's too late. He's particularly interested in the grilled and spiced haddock fillets carried fresh from the Rusty Dragon's kitchen, and so hovers near that end of the table.

    The collie considers how to best net himself a fair portion without resorting to simply snatching it up and running for cover. Growing concerned with how quickly the merrymakers are filling their plates with his fish, the collie scans the nearby crowd for a familiar or sympathetic face; someone with a tender heart who might feed a kindly dog. Once sated the collie could then turn its attention towards catching some interesting conversations and general merrymaking.

    OOC: Perception and Diplomacy +4, taking 10; looking to get fed.
    Last edited by Ambrus; Friday, 5th June, 2009 at 03:49 PM.
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    [imager]http://2ndcycle.com/RotR/ROTR%20images/NPCs/Ameiko.jpg[/imager]Ameiko Kaijitsu, owner proprietor of the Rusty Dragon Inn and Tavern, spots the tawny collie hovering by the foodstuffs and, signaling with a low whistle, uses her private pet name to call the dog over. "Kell, over here, boy." Ignoring the protest of a butcher from the Hinterlands about to spear the fattended side of the haddock fillet that she sweeps from under the butcher's grasp onto a clean platter, Ameiko gently places the plate of steaming fish on the ground at the end of the buffet table. "Watch out, Kell, it's hot. And I mean that both ways, temperature and spice." Ameiko's hand stretches out to pet the collie but retracts halfway then returns to her hip, which she crooks. "Wish you'd let me pat that fur of yours. Or comb it. Don't you want an owner, Kell?"

    With a sigh, Ameiko steps away from the platter of haddock and bows with a flourish to the collie, indicating that she will let him eat in peace.

  • #7
    Grokk stared at the cathedral, deeply admiring it, although he didn't show it on his stern face. It is beautiful. These people deserve it. I have seen death and despair and what it can do. They seem to have moved past it, but I'm glad the Sheriff is vigilant. Evil always returns and someone must be prepared for it.

    The half-orc listened to the human gushing about the building. "It is fine work you have done," he said with a brief nod. Grokk helped himself to some food, mostly meat. Not ready to sit down, he stood, slowly eating his food and surveying the scene, trying to get a feel for the town, the people, and the mood.

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    It was funny, Talashia thought, how one change could seem so huge when it was cast against a familiar backdrop. She had aged a good six years since leaving the town. Sandpoint on the other hand hadn't aged a bit. There was only one thing that stood out against her memory, and that was the Cathedral. It stood where the old one had been, had similar lines in some ways, though was in all ways more...polished looking. The stone's cuts straight and even, the surfaces flat and smoth; unweathered. It looked out of place to Talashia.

    It looked new.

    After the speeches, when most of the crowd split up between the tables of food, Talashia went instead to that huge stone intruder in her town and walked first to the right, then to the left, halfway around it and back. The shrubs were grown in...probably just replanted mature ones. The trees however were just saplings, and would be for years to come.

    What had happened? What was this 'late unpleasantness' and who or what was 'Chopper?'

    These were the questions on her mind as she finally went to the end of one of the buffet tables to see what was left. Somewhere she was aware that none of this had anything to do with her 'real' reasons for being here, but the wizard's project wasn't going anywhere. It could wait for her to at least catch up with folk in her own home town.

    As she pondered that, the sorceress eyed the fish...sparing a brief smile for the innkeeper feeding the dog on a plate. That was such a Sandpoint thing to do.

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    [imager]http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/9784/collientg.jpg[/imager]

    Success! The collie, Kell, starts to enthusiastically wag its long bushy tail in a dangerous sweeping arc when his friend Ameiko steps up to the table on his behalf. The tawny dog doesn't deign to answer the woman's question, but does lick her face in thanks and bows its head reciprocally after shying away from her reaching hand.

    Savoring the taste of the spiced fish, the collie keeps one eye on its plate and the other on the bustling table; fearful that the rest of the food might disapear if it dawdles with its current piece. Kell catches sight of an unfamiliar young woman with strikingly white hair who seems to have some interest in him. Might she be gracious enough to supply him with his next piece? The collie furrows its brow as it looks up at her imploringly.

    OOC: Puppy dog eyes, Diplomacy +4.
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    Tac Abor, human rogue

    Quote Originally Posted by mfloyd3 View Post
    But, as always, she could not find words for the spirit. "It is very grand," she said awkwardly, "It is good that you are part of it."
    Tac could tell Elyra was uncomfortable, but he was never good at telling why. It might have been the crowd, or being in a city when she preferred to be travelling, but as was his tendency, he assumed he'd imposed on her. When the half-orc nearby also spoke:

    Quote Originally Posted by Merlin's Shadow View Post
    "It is fine work you have done," he said with a brief nod.
    Well, then Tac was sure of it. He looked back and forth between his cousin and the stranger.

    "Oh, gods, I was bragging. I didn't mean ... I just ... "

    The young man bit his lip a moment, then closed his eyes and breathed in to slow himself.

    "Thank you," he said to the half-orc. "But I really didn't do that much. I'm still just a journeyman. But I'm sure the guild appreciates every compliment they receive. I'm Tac, by the way. And this is my cousin, Elyra."

    Here Tac's pride resurfaces. "She's an honest-to-goodness adventurer. She's been all over the place, fought off raiders and the like while I had my nose in books, right, El?"

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