Burnt Offerings

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Rainier eyes his great aunt with caution. She's not wrong about some of the elements in Sandpoint. Still, he's seen her calculating gaze before and has watched her spin her agendas out since before she realized he was old enough to understand adult conversations and schemes.

He smiles and nods noncommittally and wolfs down his food, intent on getting into the church and see the fruits of his family's labors first-hand. Scarnetti timber formed a major part of the church's construction, and Rainier's sweat has mixed with the stone, a sacrament of labor and faith.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Like the bigger folk joining in at the buffet, Phythas and Penn eat well past their fill. A town of nearly all humans, and certainly not a place known to offer comfortable harbor to those through whose veins courses non-Chelaxian blood, Sandpoint--on this day, at least--revels in the festival spirit. Free of the care lines normally creasing brow and nose, the Sandpoint locals enjoy unfettered feasting and merriment. Both Phythas and Penn find themselves the beneficiaries of several friendly nods from the fishwives bustling about the market, their baskets filled not with the day's vegetables but with frivolities: ribbon, cheap children trinkets, bits of Korvosian lace, or small lengths of cloth bought at the open-air market. Despite the thick crowd, Phythas and Penn soon note that they are the two odd men out with regard to their stature and size.

Gron recognizes Shayliss Vinder, the younger of a pair of daughters sired by Ven Vinder, Sandpoint's general store owner-proprietor. Like her older sister Katrine, Shayliss is the apple of her father's eye. Tall for her age and dark-haired like her Chelish-blooded mother Solsta, Shayliss has greatly changed in the year since Gron last saw her atop her father's wagon while the shopkeep made his rounds through the Hinterlands buying bits of local farmers' harvest to be offered for sale in the general store. Though younger than Gron by perhaps six or seven summers, Shayliss has filled out in the last twelve months, becomingly so. The lass's dark hair falls free in heavy waves well past her slender shoulders. The cut of the girl's festival dress displays considerable decolletage, and the gold locket hanging low on her chest heightens the effect of her bosom. Shayliss smiles winsomly at Gron. "Haven't see you in a long time." The girl eyes Gron's gruesome belt of petite skulls and instantly loses some of her smile. "Didjou buy that belt just for today? Doesn't look--well, it doesn't look like something I've seen you with before, that's all." Shayliss flashes deep blue eyes up at Gron.

True to his expectation, Ameiko Kaijitsu's buffet table, unmistakable by the Rusty Dragon placard hung at the table's head, is by far and away the most crowded table within the church's square. At Ravi's stammered hello, a busy Ameiko looks up from her work tapping a new keg of ale to locate the source of the quiet greeting being offered her. "Cat got your tongue, priest?" Ameiko's exotic hairstyle, chosen specially for the festival no doubt, hangs from the top of her head in two thick braids coiled neatly into place. The hair of both braids has been died for the day in alternating orange, white, and gold strands. The effect, while over-the-top, lends itself well to the popular tavern-owner's face, accenting her almond-shaped eyes and delicate ears. Despite Ameiko's jest, her smile is wide and her welcome tone invites conversation. When Ravi almost instantly blushes and, lowering his gaze, shuffles away without a word in reply, Ameiko shrugs in surprise but moves on to her next task at the busy table filling tankard after proffered tankard of nutty brown ale.

Matlilasse watches Rainier with his food until her shaved-headed grand-nephew quits the Scarnetti family table in favor of purveying the new cathedral's interior. Father Zantus himself offers tours and happily escorts groups of well-wishers and the curious inside the sanctuary. Spying Ravi shrinking away from the Rusty Dragon buffet table, Father Zantus calls for the acolyte. "Acolyte Delling! Acolyte Delling! I'm in want of a tour guide." Abstalar Zantus puts a gentle hand to Ravi's elbow and, guiding Ravi toward the cathedral's front steps, urges the acolyte to quickly finish his repast. "Quick, son, I've a meeting with the Sheriff and Mayor Deverin here in a few minutes. We're to coordinate the gathering and release of doves at sundown for the official consecration. If you'll just take this group there," Father Zantus points to a knot of four townsfolk--one of whom is Rainier Scarnetti, "and show them the sanctuary and altar, I'm sure they won't take too much of your time. There, now, that's a good son. Thank you, Ravi! I'll return in an hour to relieve you!" Ere Ravi can get in a word edgewise, Father Zantus turns and heads off through the crowd, making his way west toward Sandpoint's city offices.

 

[Blind Azathoth]

When Father Zantus starts calling for him, Ravi is in the middle of stealing brief glances at Ameiko through the crowd, like a schoolboy, and trying to work up the courage to return to her table and speak to her again. He mutters under his breath as he does so, reciting phrases he has memorized from books, struggling mostly in vain to speak even a sentence without stammering on every other word. I should have stayed. No--the stutter--I would only have embarrassed myself... Oh, never mind the stutter. I was rude--and stupid--not that she'll remember me--I... He glances around. Is someone calling my name? he has time to wonder, and then Abstalar Zantus is upon him.

"A t-tour?" he manages as he is gently pulled along, setting the remnants of his food down as he goes. "B-b-but Father, I d-d-don't--" he stammers, during the elder priest's brief pause while he points out the group of townsfolk, but Zantus does not seem to hear. "I, ah, I... F-F-Father Zantus..." And then the priest is gone, disappeared into the crowd.

Ravi turns to the assembled quartet, gives them a nervous smile, and bows slightly. "I, ah, I, I am Acolyte D-D-Delling, as you may h-h-have heard. If, ah, you will f-follow me, I'll show y-y-you what we in Sandpoint have, um, wo-wo-worked so hard on for the last f-f-five years."

Ravi leads the group into the cathedral, stuttering all throughout his tour of the truly magnificent structure, all polished stone and glittering glass. The indoors section of the cathedral is dominated by individual shrines honoring the six deities the cathedral is dedicated to: Erastil the hunter and Abadar the lawgiver facing the south, beautiful Shelyn and aloof Gozreh the west, and to the east, starry Desna and solar Sarenrae. Ravi says the last name with more than a hint of pride in his voice--and with no stutter. "The goddess of th-th-the local Varisians," he says, gesturing to Desna's shrine, and then to Erastil's, "and the god most p-p-popular among the settlers. And the g-g-gods and goddesses of the town's f-f-four founding families. Not that I ha-ha-have to tell you that, s-sir," he adds, bowing his head to Rainier.

"A-a-and this," he announces, as the small group heads out into the open courtyard in the center of the cathedral, "should be familiar, i-i-if you visited the chapel b-b-b-before the, ah, fire." The courtyard contains seven large standing stones, surrounding a wide, circular altar. Both the short stone pillars and the altar have been worn over time; it's clear they've been here for quite a while. "Th-they were here b-b-before even the ch-chapel, h-however. Ancient V-V-Varisian place of worship, th-th-the older Varisians say. Seven stones dedicated to De-De-De-De... I, ah, I am very sorry... to Desna, re-re-representing the seven towers of her ce-celestial palace."

As the tour winds down, and throughout his stammering speech, Ravi will respond to any questions or comments made by the small group. When the tour is finished, Ravi will lead the four outside, politely wish them a good day at the festivities, and meekly await any others curious to glimpse the inside of the cathedral or hear about the church's history.

 

[Insight]

Gron recognizes Shayliss Vinder, the younger of a pair of daughters sired by Ven Vinder, Sandpoint's general store owner-proprietor. Like her older sister Katrine, Shayliss is the apple of her father's eye. Tall for her age and dark-haired like her Chelish-blooded mother Solsta, Shayliss has greatly changed in the year since Gron last saw her atop her father's wagon while the shopkeep made his rounds through the Hinterlands buying bits of local farmers' harvest to be offered for sale in the general store. Though younger than Gron by perhaps six or seven summers, Shayliss has filled out in the last twelve months, becomingly so. The lass's dark hair falls free in heavy waves well past her slender shoulders. The cut of the girl's festival dress displays considerable decolletage, and the gold locket hanging low on her chest heightens the effect of her bosom.

Gron takes notice of the girl, his mood softening in her presence. Of all of the people of Sandpoint, Gron for some reason felt a connection with Shayliss, though he did not know why. Gron certainly didn't welcome this interruption in his quest to return home, but... Shayliss' appearance made delaying his return an interesting option.

Shayliss smiles winsomly at Gron. "Haven't seen you in a long time." The girl eyes Gron's gruesome belt of petite skulls and instantly loses some of her smile. "Didjou buy that belt just for today? Doesn't look--well, it doesn't look like something I've seen you with before, that's all." Shayliss flashes deep blue eyes up at Gron.

"Hello to you," Gron replies. He looks down at the belt of polished goblin skulls, a reminder of a time he sometimes forgot, when he almost died at the tortured hands of those foul creatures. "My belt? No, it's not new. I made it. You probably didn't see it before because I don't always wear it around. But it felt like today was an appropriate day."

Finishing his ale, Gron looks over again at Shayliss, watching her response. "Probably better left unsaid why I have this belt, but suffice to say that there is a very good reason for it."

Gron waves over the barkeep. "So, Shayliss... I don't suppose Solsta would mind if I buy you an ale?"

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Shayliss frowns at Gron and his explanation of the goblin skull belt. Uncertainty and hesitation cloud the girls eyes, until, that is, Gron offers her an ale. "No doubt mum'd mind, but more to the point," Shayliss leans in with a provocative wink and a smile far more knowing that her sixteen years would warrant, "I don't mind." The girl leans back and links a slender, soft arm through Gron's. "'Sides, you'll be buying me nothing this day, seeing as how the merchants in town serve for free on Swallowtail day. Mum can hardly object to that, now can she? C'mon, Ameiko's got a table set up from the Rusty Dragon." Shayliss steers Gron toward the crowd in front of the church square to a long wooden buffet around which townsfolk mill with wooden bowls heaped high with slices of aromatic roasted dove accompanied by bacon and chestnuts. The girl waits patiently for Gron to brave the crowd at the Rusty Dragon's table and return with a pair of drinks.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

The tour group lead by Ravi contains a Korvosan steel merchant who yawns with boredom during much of the tour of the sanctuary but who frowns intently once Ravi heads to the church's open-air inner courtyard and begins offering his explanation of the history of the seven standing stones. The steel merchant snorts and leans in to bellyache at Rainier. "Utter bunk!" In the open courtyard, the merchant's voice carries farther and louder than he perhaps realizes. "Gypsies, them Varisians. Cutthroats and savages, all of 'em! No respect for modernity, or for the land's rightful rulers. I'd soon as burn the lot of them at the stake than pay homage to their kind. Sacrilege, to leave these filthy rocks upright, and in here, a holy site at that!"

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

"Gypsies, them Varisians. Cutthroats and savages, all of 'em! No respect for modernity, or for the land's rightful rulers. I'd soon as burn the lot of them at the stake than pay homage to their kind. Sacrilege, to leave these filthy rocks upright, and in here, a holy site at that!"

Rainier rumbles his approval until the man speaks of tearing down the stones. The younger man raises one black eyebrow, scowling down at him.

"The decision has been made long ago in that regard. Abanar stands before their heathen gods, ready to lead them and their worshipers into the light of civilization. To tear down his church is to put on the barbarian war-paint for our own. Our success will come with the light of reason and the stability of empire, not by matching their savagery with our own. I have no doubt this continent will be civilized, but rash action will not accomplish it."

 

[Insight]

Shayliss frowns at Gron and his explanation of the goblin skull belt. Uncertainty and hesitation cloud the girls eyes, until, that is, Gron offers her an ale. "No doubt mum'd mind, but more to the point," Shayliss leans in with a provocative wink and a smile far more knowing that her sixteen years would warrant, "I don't mind." The girl leans back and links a slender, soft arm through Gron's. "'Sides, you'll be buying me nothing this day, seeing as how the merchants in town serve for free on Swallowtail day. Mum can hardly object to that, now can she? C'mon, Ameiko's got a table set up from the Rusty Dragon." Shayliss steers Gron toward the crowd in front of the church square to a long wooden buffet around which townsfolk mill with wooden bowls heaped high with slices of aromatic roasted dove accompanied by bacon and chestnuts. The girl waits patiently for Gron to brave the crowd at the Rusty Dragon's table and return with a pair of drinks.

"This is my first... what did you call it... Swallowtail Day?" Gron explains, walking with Shayliss to the Rusty Dragon's table. "Quite a festival"

As they reach the table, Gron looks upon the wealth of ales, meats, and assortment of other sundry items, marveling at how such a small town can afford such luxuries, even but once a year.

"You say this is all free?" Gron asks of Shayliss. "Hard to believe." He turns to the merchant. "Two ales... and two servings of the roast dove."

Once served, Gron leads Shayliss to Ameiko's table and sits down with the comely lass. "There is danger beyond the walls of Sandpoint," he begins. "I have lived through horrors I hope you never have to experience. That is why I make bows for the hunters that walk the skirts of Sandpoints, to keep vigilant against what lays in wait. I hope to someday join their ranks."

"I suppose you are being groomed to join your mother in the merchant trade," Gron suggests.

 

[Blind Azathoth]

Ravi frowns at the Korvosan man's ranting. "Sir," he says quietly, "these s-s-stones are of Varisian origin, b-b-but men and women of all b-b-backgrounds have worshiped here. V-V-Varisian, Chelaxian, Shoanti... D-D-Desna is a goddess to all. F-Father Zantus himself i-i-is a servant of Desna. To t-t-tear these stones d-down would be to dishonor her, and to d-d-dishonor her would be to dishonor all the g-g-gods..."

Rainier's words seem to distress the acolyte even further. "B-b-b-barbarians? Many p-people in Sandpoint are of Varisian d-d-descent, and no different from y-y-you or I but for the color of their ha-ha-hair or eyes. To dismiss them all as b-barbarians seems... i-il-illogical. And those who do b-b-belong to a d-different culture, different life... who a-a-are we to say that ours is superior? A-are we so very different from th-th-these 'savages'? Our history is j-j-just as barbaric... and p-perhaps moreso."

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Shayliss smiles in welcome at Gron as he returns with meat and drink. The girl doesn't touch the dove but takes a quick draught off the tankard of ale, downing half the cup's contents at once. Gron's comment regarding the free food and ale pass over the girl's carefree head. Picking idly at a roasted chestnut on a platter, Shayliss listens with wide doe eyes to Gron's tale of danger. "Have you ever killed anyone?" The girl eagerly leans forward to listen to more of Gron's tales, the bodice of her festival dress perching its creamy wares on the wooden-planked buffet. "Being groomed to join my mother?" Shayliss smiles at Gron. Looking up at the young man through silky black eyelashes, Shayliss shakes her head no. "That job'll likely fall like a ripe plum to whomever father agrees I can marry. Or to whichever husband Katrine selects."