HM's Rise of the Runelords - IC

Jeyanah watches her friend's demonstration of athleticism with a slight smile; she was familiar with his abilities from their frequent sparring, and didn't doubt for a moment that he'd be able to pull this off . . . or that she would be able to do the same. The two made it a practice to push each other - to test and extend their limits - in their bouts, and the shy young girl's confidence had grown tremendously as a result.

She gives Wesh a little half-bow as he leaps from the log, acknowledging an excellent performance, then springs lightly up. She's somewhat hesitant at first, feeling her way carefully and teetering a couple of times. But much as in her contests with Wesh she gains confidence as she goes. By the time she gets to the end of the log she's almost sprinting, and a wide grin splits her face as she takes a quick bounce for momentum from the end of the log and executes a graceful front flip on her dismount, landing neatly at Wesh's side.

Acrobatics (1d20+8=14)
Acrobatics (1d20+8=18)
Acrobatics (1d20+8=19)
Acrobatics (Dramatic Finish) (1d20+8=18)
_______________



[sblock=Stat Block]
JEYANAH ASASEHN CR 1/2
Female Human (Shoanti) Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +3; Senses Perception +1
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14. . (+4 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 14 (1d10)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
Weakness Haunted
--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Spd 35 ft.
Melee
. . Cestus +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Curve Blade, Elven +4 (1d10+1/18-20/x2)
. . Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Hanbo +4 (1d6+1/20/x2)
. . Unarmed Strike +4 (1d3+1/20/x2)
Special Attacks
. . Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day)
Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) Spells Known (CL 1, +4 melee touch, +4 ranged touch):
1 (4/day) Shield of Faith (DC 14), Cure Light Wounds (DC 14), Burning Disarm (DC 14)
0 (at will) Mending, Mage Hand, Ghost Sound (DC 13), Sotto Voce (DC 13), Light, Enhanced Diplomacy, Spark (DC 13)
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 13, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Exotic Weapon Proficiency: Curve Blade, Elven, Persuasive, Totem Spirit - Tamiir-Quah (Wind Clan), Weapon Finesse
Traits Bred for War (Shoanti), Fast-Talker, Giant Slayer
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +8, Climb +0, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +2, Fly +2, Heal +4, Intimidate +10, Perception +1, Ride +2, Sense Motive +5, Stealth +2, Swim +0
Languages Common, Shoanti, Varisian
Combat Gear
Cestus, Curve Blade, Elven, Dagger (3), Dagger, Hanbo, Masterwork Chain Shirt
Other Gear
Backpack, Masterwork (9 @ 14 lbs), Bag, Waterproof (5 @ 1.5 lbs), Bedroll, Charcoal Stick, Flint and steel, Ink (1 oz. vial, black), Inkpen, Journal, Lantern, hooded, Potion of Cure Light Wounds, Rations, trail (per day) (4), Soap, Bar (50 uses), Whetstone, Wrist sheath, spring loaded (1 @ 1 lbs)
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
--------------------
Giant Slayer +1 Bluff, Perception, Sense Motive, attack and damage against giants.
Haunted Retrieving stored gear is a Standard action or worse, dropped items land 10' away.
Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day) (Su) Melee touch attack deals 1d6+1 Electricity damage.
--------------------
"The giants took my family . . . not my life, though I thought it at the time.

"I was born into the Otòn tribe of the Tamiir-Quah Shaonti 17 summers past. My life in the mountains of northern Varisia was good; I had the love and respect of my family, and I excelled in the games and contests my people use for preparing their youth to enter the world as adults.

"But I never reached my passage. On the eve of my name-day and marking ceremony - the 14th anniversary of my birth - the giants attacked my tribe and slaughtered all of my kin. I was 'spared' only because I had retreated to our sacred cave to prepare myself for my naming. Lost in the trance my people use for ground and center, I did not even hear the sounds of the ending of my world.

"When I 'awoke' and went to join my people, my ground was shattered, my center blown away by the storm of slaughter revealed to my eyes.

"The tempest of my grief was almost my destruction, but I lived through the body of the storm and eventually found it's eye. A . . . presence . . . called to me, caught me up and anchored me in calm. I know not the length of time I spent within the eye of my grief-storm, listening to the council of winds all around me, but when the eye released me from its calm I found that I had passed through the other edge of my sorrow. The winds that once howled of the passing of my tribe now sing to me of purpose, though I know not what it is.

"Bereft of kith and kin, past the age of my youth but unable to live amongst the Shaonti as an adult because I had not completed my naming, I left the mountains of Varisia. For the past three years I have traveled the land, doing what I can to preserve my honor and hone my skills as I seek the purpose to which the wind calls me. I have met many people, made many friends; I have learned much of the calling of the wind and improved my martial skills.

"I know that the Otòn continue - they whisper to me when the winds are quiet, they play their mischievous tricks upon me to remind me of their presence. It is not much, but it suffices. I am at peace.

Except for the giants."

Hero Lab® and the Hero Lab logo are Registered Trademarks of LWD Technology, Inc. Free download at Lone Wolf Development
Pathfinder® and associated marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC®, and are used under license.
[/sblock]

Chase spits on his hands, takes hold of the proffered woodaxe, and starts chopping would. The woodsman uses his knowledge of how to most quickly chop this type of wood to help him against his stronger competitors.

Jeyanah and Wesh are patted on the back as they move on from the log-roller.

__________________________________

And Chase makes short work as he avoids the knot holes in the log he cuts through. His opponent gives him a handshake and then two more men step up to take their turns.
__________________________________

At the book stand the older man eyes Khepri up and down before hrmphing. "What do you know about Thassilon and the Old Light?" he asks but doesn't wait for a reply and turns to walk away.

One of his helpers takes over the stall and Khepri watches as the old man walks off, followed by a yellow and brown striped tabby cat.

<<"Quisil ctam quij heh iti iquiicolim!">> he mutters in unaccented Thassilonian, before disappearing into the crowd.

[sblock=Translation]"Trying to get at my knowledge!"[/sblock]

OOC: Advanace yourselves to lunch - which is provided free - please. On the menu curry-spiced salmon and early winterdrop mead from Ameiko.

Later in the day Wesh leads Jenayah over to where Ameiko has been setting up the lunchtime meal for the festival. He smiles warmly when he catches his old friend's eye. "Hey, Ameiko," he says, "I've been looking forward to this drink all morning. Once we've finished eating, is there anything you could use a hand with?"

Jeyanah approaches Ameiko's with Wesh, nodding at the innkeeper with some familiarity, sniffing the curry scented air in anticipation of an excellent lunch.
_______________



[sblock=Stat Block]
JEYANAH ASASEHN CR 1/2
Female Human (Shoanti) Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +3; Senses Perception +1
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14. . (+4 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 14 (1d10)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
Weakness Haunted
--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Spd 35 ft.
Melee
. . Cestus +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Curve Blade, Elven +4 (1d10+1/18-20/x2)
. . Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Hanbo +4 (1d6+1/20/x2)
. . Unarmed Strike +4 (1d3+1/20/x2)
Special Attacks
. . Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day)
Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) Spells Known (CL 1, +4 melee touch, +4 ranged touch):
1 (4/day) Shield of Faith (DC 14), Cure Light Wounds (DC 14), Burning Disarm (DC 14)
0 (at will) Mending, Mage Hand, Ghost Sound (DC 13), Sotto Voce (DC 13), Light, Enhanced Diplomacy, Spark (DC 13)
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 13, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Exotic Weapon Proficiency: Curve Blade, Elven, Persuasive, Totem Spirit - Tamiir-Quah (Wind Clan), Weapon Finesse
Traits Bred for War (Shoanti), Fast-Talker, Giant Slayer
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +8, Climb +0, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +2, Fly +2, Heal +4, Intimidate +10, Perception +1, Ride +2, Sense Motive +5, Stealth +2, Swim +0
Languages Common, Shoanti, Varisian
Combat Gear
Cestus, Curve Blade, Elven, Dagger (3), Dagger, Hanbo, Masterwork Chain Shirt
Other Gear
Backpack, Masterwork (9 @ 14 lbs), Bag, Waterproof (5 @ 1.5 lbs), Bedroll, Charcoal Stick, Flint and steel, Ink (1 oz. vial, black), Inkpen, Journal, Lantern, hooded, Potion of Cure Light Wounds, Rations, trail (per day) (4), Soap, Bar (50 uses), Whetstone, Wrist sheath, spring loaded (1 @ 1 lbs)
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
--------------------
Giant Slayer +1 Bluff, Perception, Sense Motive, attack and damage against giants.
Haunted Retrieving stored gear is a Standard action or worse, dropped items land 10' away.
Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day) (Su) Melee touch attack deals 1d6+1 Electricity damage.
--------------------
"The giants took my family . . . not my life, though I thought it at the time.

"I was born into the Otòn tribe of the Tamiir-Quah Shaonti 17 summers past. My life in the mountains of northern Varisia was good; I had the love and respect of my family, and I excelled in the games and contests my people use for preparing their youth to enter the world as adults.

"But I never reached my passage. On the eve of my name-day and marking ceremony - the 14th anniversary of my birth - the giants attacked my tribe and slaughtered all of my kin. I was 'spared' only because I had retreated to our sacred cave to prepare myself for my naming. Lost in the trance my people use for ground and center, I did not even hear the sounds of the ending of my world.

"When I 'awoke' and went to join my people, my ground was shattered, my center blown away by the storm of slaughter revealed to my eyes.

"The tempest of my grief was almost my destruction, but I lived through the body of the storm and eventually found it's eye. A . . . presence . . . called to me, caught me up and anchored me in calm. I know not the length of time I spent within the eye of my grief-storm, listening to the council of winds all around me, but when the eye released me from its calm I found that I had passed through the other edge of my sorrow. The winds that once howled of the passing of my tribe now sing to me of purpose, though I know not what it is.

"Bereft of kith and kin, past the age of my youth but unable to live amongst the Shaonti as an adult because I had not completed my naming, I left the mountains of Varisia. For the past three years I have traveled the land, doing what I can to preserve my honor and hone my skills as I seek the purpose to which the wind calls me. I have met many people, made many friends; I have learned much of the calling of the wind and improved my martial skills.

"I know that the Otòn continue - they whisper to me when the winds are quiet, they play their mischievous tricks upon me to remind me of their presence. It is not much, but it suffices. I am at peace.

Except for the giants."

Hero Lab® and the Hero Lab logo are Registered Trademarks of LWD Technology, Inc. Free download at Lone Wolf Development
Pathfinder® and associated marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC®, and are used under license.
[/sblock]

Chase takes a seat at one of the rough-hewn tables at the inn, graciously accepting the free lunch and mead. The woodsman remained quiet; he spent so much time in the wilderness with only himself to talk to that he sometimes forgot that civilized folk often felt more comfortable when words were exchanged.

He tasted the winterdrop mead, and found it quite excellent. The salmon he again found to taste a bit over-seasoned, and decided that it was most certainly his palate, and not the Sandport cuisine that must be off.

As he eats, the woodsman's eyes dart about, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't that he didn't trust the villagers around him...it was just that he felt out of place in the town. He much preferred the press of trees to the press of other humanoids.

HolyMan said:

At the book stand the older man eyes Khepri up and down before hrmphing. "What do you know about Thassilon and the Old Light?" he asks but doesn't wait for a reply and turns to walk away.

One of his helpers takes over the stall and Khepri watches as the old man walks off, followed by a yellow and brown striped tabby cat.

<<"Quisil ctam quij heh iti iquiicolim!">> he mutters in unaccented Thassilonian, before disappearing into the crowd.

Click to expand...

Khepri watches the man go silently, her expression inscrutable. She makes a mental note to find out about Sandpoint's bookseller, and to visit him again in his shop. She suspected they would have a great deal to talk about.

For now though a crowd was building at the inn, and there was talk of lunches provided without cost to the customer. Khepri's stomach growled softly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since her sparse shipboard breakfast...too much food set off her seasickness even when she had grown more accustomed to the ship's movement.

With a parting glance at the bookstand, and a nod at the attendent the old man had left behind to manage it, Khepri went to the inn and pressed inside to enjoy a hot meal of the local cuisine. Not even halfway there the smells set her mouth to watering.

It was with some surprise she tasted curry in the seasoning; a distinctly eastern touch in an otherwise novel meal.

Curiously, Khepri looked around, intending to ask about the cook.

Jeyanah takes the time to thoroughly enjoy the fish and meade . . . almost as much as she enjoys watching the people coming into Ameiko's. The number and variety of people who travel to this small town for the festival is amazing!
_______________



[sblock=Stat Block]
JEYANAH ASASEHN CR 1/2
Female Human (Shoanti) Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +3; Senses Perception +1
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14. . (+4 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 14 (1d10)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
Weakness Haunted
--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Spd 35 ft.
Melee
. . Cestus +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Curve Blade, Elven +4 (1d10+1/18-20/x2)
. . Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2)
. . Hanbo +4 (1d6+1/20/x2)
. . Unarmed Strike +4 (1d3+1/20/x2)
Special Attacks
. . Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day)
Oracle (Mystic Skirmisher) Spells Known (CL 1, +4 melee touch, +4 ranged touch):
1 (4/day) Shield of Faith (DC 14), Cure Light Wounds (DC 14), Burning Disarm (DC 14)
0 (at will) Mending, Mage Hand, Ghost Sound (DC 13), Sotto Voce (DC 13), Light, Enhanced Diplomacy, Spark (DC 13)
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 13, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Exotic Weapon Proficiency: Curve Blade, Elven, Persuasive, Totem Spirit - Tamiir-Quah (Wind Clan), Weapon Finesse
Traits Bred for War (Shoanti), Fast-Talker, Giant Slayer
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +8, Climb +0, Diplomacy +9, Escape Artist +2, Fly +2, Heal +4, Intimidate +10, Perception +1, Ride +2, Sense Motive +5, Stealth +2, Swim +0
Languages Common, Shoanti, Varisian
Combat Gear
Cestus, Curve Blade, Elven, Dagger (3), Dagger, Hanbo, Masterwork Chain Shirt
Other Gear
Backpack, Masterwork (9 @ 14 lbs), Bag, Waterproof (5 @ 1.5 lbs), Bedroll, Charcoal Stick, Flint and steel, Ink (1 oz. vial, black), Inkpen, Journal, Lantern, hooded, Potion of Cure Light Wounds, Rations, trail (per day) (4), Soap, Bar (50 uses), Whetstone, Wrist sheath, spring loaded (1 @ 1 lbs)
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
--------------------
Giant Slayer +1 Bluff, Perception, Sense Motive, attack and damage against giants.
Haunted Retrieving stored gear is a Standard action or worse, dropped items land 10' away.
Touch of Electricity (1d6+1) (6/day) (Su) Melee touch attack deals 1d6+1 Electricity damage.
--------------------
"The giants took my family . . . not my life, though I thought it at the time.

"I was born into the Otòn tribe of the Tamiir-Quah Shaonti 17 summers past. My life in the mountains of northern Varisia was good; I had the love and respect of my family, and I excelled in the games and contests my people use for preparing their youth to enter the world as adults.

"But I never reached my passage. On the eve of my name-day and marking ceremony - the 14th anniversary of my birth - the giants attacked my tribe and slaughtered all of my kin. I was 'spared' only because I had retreated to our sacred cave to prepare myself for my naming. Lost in the trance my people use for ground and center, I did not even hear the sounds of the ending of my world.

"When I 'awoke' and went to join my people, my ground was shattered, my center blown away by the storm of slaughter revealed to my eyes.

"The tempest of my grief was almost my destruction, but I lived through the body of the storm and eventually found it's eye. A . . . presence . . . called to me, caught me up and anchored me in calm. I know not the length of time I spent within the eye of my grief-storm, listening to the council of winds all around me, but when the eye released me from its calm I found that I had passed through the other edge of my sorrow. The winds that once howled of the passing of my tribe now sing to me of purpose, though I know not what it is.

"Bereft of kith and kin, past the age of my youth but unable to live amongst the Shaonti as an adult because I had not completed my naming, I left the mountains of Varisia. For the past three years I have traveled the land, doing what I can to preserve my honor and hone my skills as I seek the purpose to which the wind calls me. I have met many people, made many friends; I have learned much of the calling of the wind and improved my martial skills.

"I know that the Otòn continue - they whisper to me when the winds are quiet, they play their mischievous tricks upon me to remind me of their presence. It is not much, but it suffices. I am at peace.

Except for the giants."

Hero Lab® and the Hero Lab logo are Registered Trademarks of LWD Technology, Inc. Free download at Lone Wolf Development
Pathfinder® and associated marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC®, and are used under license.
[/sblock]

After lunch is schedule the release of the swallowtail butterflies.

In front of the new citadel the head of the church, Father Zantus, makes a small speech before a wagon full of the butterflies is released. For the remainder of the day children run about the streets trying to catch them.

Then at the stage set up before the Citadel everyone enjoys a play put on by a bardic troupe. Called "The Harpy's Curse" it is a comedy about a harpy finding a pair of magic boots that she can't get around her clawed feet.

As the troupe takes it's last bow once again father Zantus makes his way atop the stage.

A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun’s setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman’s scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises—high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human. The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.

Click to expand...

"Goblin's chew and Goblin's bite,
Goblin's cut and Goblin's fight,
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblin's eat and take by force!"

"Goblin's race and Goblin's jump,
Goblin' slash and Goblin's bump,
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblin here and you be dead!"

"Chase the baby, catch the pup,
Bonk the head to shut it up,
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be Goblin's, YOU BE FOOD!"

Suddenly the crowd is moving in a hundred direction as dozens of goblins emerge from hiding.

OOC: No INIT group can go first. For now every square counts a difficult terrain(due to crowd). But you may try an Acrobatics check DC 8 to ignore them and move normally.

The stray is a mutt Wesh has seen around the Rusty Dragon many times mooching leftovers many times, and it wrenches his gut to see it come to such a gruesome end. As the crowd of festival goers surges toward him, he momentarily forgets Jenayah. He easily steps through the crowd, drawing one of his long daggers into his right hand as he moves towards the chattering goblins. As he nears, he draws another dagger with his left. There is no way a lousy pack of goblins is getting the best of his home.

[sblock=OOC]Move to I8, drawing one dagger as part of the move action and the other as a standard action.[/sblock]