The tiny island Peara Tira ("pearl arrow" in the local dialect of Common) truly deserved its name: arrowhead-shaped and covered with white soft sand, changing color depending on the sunlight, the island looks like a pale jewel on the velvet-blue surface of the sea. Not so long ago it was used as a pearl hunting site, but there are more convenient places for diving along the shore, not to mention far less dangerous, for the past decade Peara became the major spot for shark hunting tournaments. The blood sport made the waters here unsafe even at the best time of the year and the last two weeks before the tournament only hunters (and particularly ... enthusiastic spectators) would risk swimming and diving in the deep near the island.
Visitors of the tournament and most locals do not live on the island but on the mainland in the village, Matre Peara, connected to Peara by the sixty-feet long bridge, wooden, but as solid as construction of this type could be. The village is obviously prosperous to build such a grand structure instead of a much simpler ferry. The island does have a port too but a small one which is used mostly as a backup for the one in the village.
For the guests of the village, today is just another lazy day on the sunny beach. A cool breeze drifts across the island, mingling the sweet scent of flowers with the salty tang of the sea. Well-tanned locals at an unhurried pace continue their preparations for the tournament, while sunburned visitors sit in wicker chairs under the tents of The Proud Hunter and sip cold drinks. A half-dozen nearly naked shark hunters preparing to compete in the annual tournament stand in the shallows on the south shore, armed with harpoons and their wits. They are just practicing today - the competition itself is days ahead, but smart bookies come earlier to decide on the favorites and hunters know it, posing, bragging, and show-offing to the few spectators.
Soon the place will be buzzing with all kinds of noises - music, talks, bettings above all. But today the island is serene like a true paradise. The tropical dream of every busy soul seeking some well-deserved rest.
We did not discuss the backgrounds, so, here is information that might help.
The map of the Island:
There are two categories of people in the village this time of the year: locals (including the majority of the hunters) and visitors. Most of the visitors are tourists that came to see the tournament, but some came to work: a few who want to join the hunt (from the cities along the coast), bookmakers, seasonal workers (there is enough work for everyone here), and mercenaries. The latter are hired by the village officials to protect the visitors because lately with sharks (lured here on purpose) come Sahuagin - unwelcome guests from an ocean trench just west of the village. In the water, they are viewed as an additional challnge for the hunters, but the sea devils are growing bolder and have begun to attack the shores as well.
(We are still in Faerun, so, you can be from any familiar location, visiting or working in this part of the world).
Davis stands near one of the pavilians along the beach. He is a heavily-built human-looking mercenary, with salt-and-pepper black hair and calm gray eyes. A scar runs down one side of his face, from his missing left ear and down his chin. The scar seems to skip his neck, but continues just above his armor, disappearing from view under the heavy metal. He wears a set of adamantine armor, and looks quite warm in this island's sunshine. He holds a rune-carved glaive in one hand, like a staff, and has multiple other weapons attached over his body. An ornate quiver rests across his back, with spears and javelins poking up out of it. He seems to be watching the mostly-naked shark hunters as they strut and boast along the shoreline, but his attention is more often focused further out, watching the fins of sharks as they break the surface now and again.
Anyone who has been on the island for a couple of days, or more, would have seen Davis around often enough. He was hired as a mercenary to aid the island with the frequent assaults from the ocean, and to keep the peace among the hot bloods on the island itself. He is a calm, soft-spoken, man of mixed heritage.
The busgirl lounged just inside the doorway to The Proud Hunter, watching as servers go in and out, quietly observing the outdoor scene while absently drying some dishes. She was nearly impossible to see just inside the shadowy doorway given the glare of the bright sun outside. Her lithe elven body was unusually tall and thin. She wore a green elven cloak over her dark grey servants outfit, the cloak flung to one side to hang over a single shoulder. A minor fashion oddity for a busgirl, but nothing enough for anyone to complain about. Just the odd questioning glance. Her hair, long and blonde, hung down in a ponytail behind her back. As she moved out of the shadows to an outdoor table to collect some dishes she moved with the traditional grace of an elf, but kept her eyes downcast, focused on her job, as any good servant should be. As she worked a thin, finely wrought elven chain around her neck slipped out of her collar and hung down, showing a small adamantine disc and a golden heart hanging from it. As she stood straight back up to walk back to the building, she tucked the necklace back into her shirt absently before heading back to the building. After passing the dishes inside, she was quick to return to her indoor spot, just within the shadowy doorway to continue watching the events going on. Beneath the shelf she worked on was a wooden crate. Tucked within and hidden under a dish cloth, a hand crossbow with a mini-quiver of bolts lay silently, waiting.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
The day went on as usual - lazily-busy with spikes of excitement here and there. The new busgirl's eyes briefly stopped at the scene that was repeating itself every morning for the last several days: the fat merchant from Sammaresh begged her employer - Mrs. Quinnie (the feisty twice-widowed proud owner of The Proud Hunter) to accept his humble gift, promising to through himself into the sea if she refuses. Bright and colorful as a bird of paradise Quinnie laughed and kept waving him off, but the girl knew that after letting the man beg for an appropriate amount of time she'll agree, and judging by the size of the "humble gift" - a massive gold bracelet decorated with gemstones - she'll be kind to her employees for the rest of the day.
A dwarf with a bushy red beard in the corner of a tent had enough drinks to begin boasting about joining the hunt and showing them all what dwarves are made of. His wife noted that his only chance to kill a shark is if the poor fish chokes on his beard. Strangely, it did not stop the boasting, but nobody bet an eye, the family was well known here and both were big fans of the event (big bettors too).
At the beach, two hunters - a local dark-skinned human man and an outsider, a sea elf from the look of him - argued a bit too loud for the simple boasting, not listening to reasonable advice to "leave it for the sharks". Donjah, the last year champion - also local well-tenned giant with a family resemblance with Quinnie - watched the argument with a snotty smile then turned to a girl hunter near him - new contestant of this year, with dozens of sun-bleached braids, neatly tied together, bronze skin and an aura of eagerness around her. Neither bothered to interfere with the arguing but one of the bookmakers frowned and nervously ordered another drink. The death of a few hunters was something even counted on but the hunt was unpredictable enough to factor a quarrel into betting.
Davis caught the look of another merc watching the crowd and the man shook his head slightly - nothing to worry about. Not yet. The sapphire waters remain calm, though a few shark fins could be spotted close enough. The hunters began to line up for diving.
Davis gave the other man a nod of agreement, not overly concerned if these hunters bloodied each other a bit prior to the festivities. He stayed put, having found a place with a bit of shade, in the leu of one of the many pavilions along the beach. He was content to stand and watch, his main duty to watch for threats from the water itself, and to aid if things did get out of hand with the hot blooded people on the island itself.
The busgirl found herself with a few minutes to spare. She leaned casually on the wall just inside the shadows of the servants passage and contemplated life. She'd come here to escape. Literally and figuratively. She needed a break. Even here in such a beautiful location, people were people. Each with their own self important needs, their violent tendencies, their politics. She watched it all with a keen eye. Not here for money, or power, or manipulation, just here to observe. Her eyes would stop and rest on each individual, judging them, weighing what she saw, defining them. Threat. Victim. Ally. With a casual glance she decided....were they honorable, did they have morals, qualms...were they soft....or were they emotionally distant. Each person like a book for her practiced eyes to read....to identify how best to manipulate, to identify weakness, strengths. Each one an adversary in some way, an adversary who was trying to tell the world how they were strong, to hide their weakness. The order had trained her well. Nameless now, she waited....waited for the future to come to her. Patiently she we watch....and be ready.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
What a priest of Sune was doing at Peara Tira was anyone's guess, but the young human male had certainly made his presence known. He spent most mornings clad in only a knee-length pair of leggings, running along the beach with his well-toned bronzed torso gleaming with scented oils, and occasionally taking a refreshing swim in the shallows. His meals were taken at the Proud Hunter, chatting or flirting with locals and visitors alike, complimenting them on their appearance, making candid but insightful suggestions about how to accentuate their best features, and particularly enjoying gossiping with passing couples and making cheeky remarks about romance. Afternoons were generally passed strutting up and down the promenade in a light tunic, open at the chest, with his wavy blonde locks rippling in the breeze. And sometimes in the evenings he could be spotted sitting alone on a secluded beach in the moonlight gazing at his own reflection in a small handheld mirror.
Coming from anyone else, all these behaviours might come across as irritating at the least. And yet his winning smile, his casual, genuine, friendly, extroverted personality, and the way in which he seemed to make everyone feel good about themselves and each other... you couldn't help but like the young man, and feel as though the sun just shone a little brighter when he was around. Hansel seemed like a casual tourist on a tropical holiday, and yet anyone could see that he took all these activities as seriously as though they were his life's purpose.
It is implied that Hansel has at least greeted Davis and 'the busgirl' at some point, but we can still interact as strangers when the time comes...
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Hansel's secret (if there was one) was safe - no one among the personnel was going to bother guests with the questions, of course not. The other guests - that was another matter, but among those who worked here, the young priest of Lady Firehair was quite popular as he was. The eyes of Quinnie's girls, that tirelessly smiled, flirted, and by every means encouraged the clients to leave more gold here, softened when they looked in his direction. Boys appreciated a friendly attitude and happily smiled back, though, hunters were simply bound to keep the tough attitude, giving Hensel contemptuous glances of true fighters looking at the soft "city-boy". (To be fair, any non-hunters were getting that attitude, the hunters knew their worth.)
Today was no different: smiles in the tavern, friendly waving and back-and-forth jokes, demonstrative posing and deceptively lazy moves from hunters, all of this accompanied by the eternal music of the waves under the cloudless sky. If there is a paradise on Faerun, it is right here.
Whipping a hand through his hair, Yusko stepped off of one of the smaller boats docking. He looked back at the small crew, gave a small wave and headed off along the beach. He hoisted his pack a little more securely. Looking about he was liking what he saw. Plenty of clients, as in plenty of those those that are going to need bandages and stitches and potentially a whole lot more.
On occasion, a mountain of a man with features as hard and sharp as stone could have been spotted standing firm as a post at seemingly random intervals throughout the days leading up to the event. His arms were always crossed, and no matter what occurred around him, or right in front of his face, he was unmoving much like a statue. Eyes always alert, but no words ever muttered. He appeared to be a simple man with big muscles and simple clothes. However, he carried a unique and hefty shell pack on his back everywhere he went. On the rare occasion should someone have been watching him, any time he would move, it would be with long strides made with great purpose, simply moving from one sunny area during the cooler mornings and into the shade during the hotter afternoons, but never did he stray far from a buffet table.
The burly giant with the shell pack did indeed got quite a few glances for the first couple of days. Hunters watched out for competition, bookies - for a promising shot, and all kinds of workers around were eyeing him for the potential profits. The man disappointed everyone equally, except the tavern owner (if you are alive, you need to eat, and Quinnie's "establishment" would be your only place for this on the island. Not to mention, the food was good.)
Yusko came in time - the hunters were about to begin. Three sharks, lured by a few chunks of meat closer to the island, got to the appropriate distance (when the spectators could comfortably enough see the show). Sometimes - and that was really for shows only - the sharks were hunted right under the bridge, but not today. Today was a true combat practice - everything is for real, except the price.
At the signal of the greyhaired one-eyed eternal arbiter of the competitions (a loud shout only a professional diver can produce), all hunters stepped into the water. They did not rush, slowly walking towards the dropoff a few yards from the shore, watching every move of the huge fins intently. Each of them fully understood that their life depended on the ability to predict shark's movements and reactions. Finally, one by one they silently dived deep and swam to the predators, that were circling half a pig floating on the water.
The voices on the terraces died down. Now everyone, even servants for a moment, moved closer to watch the beginning of the deadly game. The first hunter to make the kill would be declared the winner, and no one wanted to miss the final blow - something, that will be discussed in detail for days.
(And with this we begin! Please, give me an approximate position, everyone. Like "on the shore, near the water watching", or "inside the tavern" - that kind of approximation)
Yusco would have his pack stowed away but a med kit in hand which has a few bottle stowed away inside it in a secure fashion. He's on the coast watching and waiting.
The busgirl is in the shadows, just inside the servers entrance to the tavern. In the shadows, and behind a crowd of people all focused on some event is just where she feels most natural. She only partially pays attention to the shark hunt, she's far more interested in people watching in the crowd and about.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
The mountain man stood still as could be, practically an additional pillar outside the tavern, not far from the palm tree. Avoiding shadows at this time and fully exposed with the sun beaming down upon his chest, this position set him almost at a centre point. He’d have a clear view over the shore, cottages, picnic tables, tavern and even the centre statue with the stalls behind. Of course, with the shark hunt about to begin, it was plenty reason to keep a focused eye in that direction with passive watch elsewhere.
(Hansel as a social and curious soul is placed on the beach among the most enthusiastic spectators)
By now hunters had to be close to the sharks and the animals definitely noticed new prey. It was hard to see the humans under the water from that distance but triangular fins definitely changed direction and a few moments later disappeared from the view - sharks dived deeper as well.
Shark hunt is not the loudest of entertainment. The spectators were quiet as well and for some time the only sound one could hear was the waves and the wind. Then the serene scenery suddenly burst with sounds and action. One of the sharks leaped out of the water with a screaming hunter in its toothy jaws. The crowd gasped in a unison. The massive fish immediately plunged back into the ocean, staining the waters with dark red, but now one by one the hunters began to emerge on the surface - a few dived back, probably hoping to save their comrade, but some turned to the shore with such horror on their faces, that it could not be explained by the attack alone.
They swam as fast as was humanly possible and once the first one reached the shallow waters the people on the beach heard the shout "Sea devils! They are coming!"
At that very moment, the ground beneath the feet of those on the island trembled and cracked - one beam of the tavern cracked, a flimsy shad outside simply collapsed (judging by the sound someone was inside). A huge wave - a dozen feet high - picked the yelling hunter up and crashed into the shore, and the sound of screaming filled the air as a stampede of beachgoers tried to flee the sands.
The wave swept a few tourists, too slow to react, into the ocean and a chorus of shrieks added to the cacophony as unlucky people and straggling shark hunters saw several humanoid creatures with fish-like heads and slick, rubbery skin emerging from the depths.
Everyone - Dex save DC10 or fall prone (for Hansel and Yusko "1" would mean to be swept into the water)
Roll initiative too, please.
Map:
G - Grandma Trudie, N - Nameless One, H - Hansel, D - Davis, Y - Yusko
Davis - you are 30ft from the water, sahuagin still in the sea (there are four of them so far), the closest is 45ft away from the shore. The panicking crowd is trying to run away from the southern shore where you all are.
NB! Neither of you ever heard of the earthquakes around here. The tremor is the most unusual thing.
The moment the earth beneath his feet trembled, the mountain man’s visage would finally crack with concern. He’d nod with such assurance, it’s as if he just made an important decision to himself. The large man would finally snap into action. Slowly he’d unfold his arms and reach for his tortoiseshell pack to unhook it from his back with care, his muscles flexing from the weight of it. As smooth and as gingerly as could be, he’d lower it down into the sand. After a pause he’d lean forward to place an ear against it to listen. Then he’d knock on it in a pattern.
A large echoing yawn would come from inside, then out pops an elderly Tortle, smacking her lips. Eyes squinted and interchangeably blinked as fast as molasses could pour. “Is it that time already?” She’d use a staff to help her up off the sand. “Alrighty… Pitter patter, let’s get atter…” Reaching behind her, she’d push on her back to stretch some more, and with a few snap crackles and pops, a deep sigh of relief would leave her. Grandma would then reach up as far as she could, the mountain man meeting her most of the way, “Thank you for the lift young man.” She’d give him a little pat on the cheek. And with that, she’d turn to saunter off towards the chaos.
Yusko stood still and watched the participants dive down. He know it was only a matter of time before someone got injured. A bite here, a broken bone from rough contact, and even scrapped skin from their rough scales. But the shaking and these creatures were unexpected. While unexpected, his sea legs proved a match for the trembling ground and he remained upright as the wave crashed around him.
Turning towards the screams and the sea creatures Yusko starts to move into action. "Hey, everyone calm down. If you don't have a weapon, get to the bar. If ya have a weapon, form up!" he yells.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Bus-girl Dex save vs DC 10 : 13
The bus-girl's eyes opened wide at the sudden wrenching break from paradise, into havoc in mere moments. More surprising, the huge hulking giant of a man unleashing.....a bent wizened old turtle woman! She had NOT seen that one coming.
The tiny island Peara Tira ("pearl arrow" in the local dialect of Common) truly deserved its name: arrowhead-shaped and covered with white soft sand, changing color depending on the sunlight, the island looks like a pale jewel on the velvet-blue surface of the sea. Not so long ago it was used as a pearl hunting site, but there are more convenient places for diving along the shore, not to mention far less dangerous, for the past decade Peara became the major spot for shark hunting tournaments. The blood sport made the waters here unsafe even at the best time of the year and the last two weeks before the tournament only hunters (and particularly ... enthusiastic spectators) would risk swimming and diving in the deep near the island.
Visitors of the tournament and most locals do not live on the island but on the mainland in the village, Matre Peara, connected to Peara by the sixty-feet long bridge, wooden, but as solid as construction of this type could be. The village is obviously prosperous to build such a grand structure instead of a much simpler ferry. The island does have a port too but a small one which is used mostly as a backup for the one in the village.
For the guests of the village, today is just another lazy day on the sunny beach. A cool breeze drifts across the island, mingling the sweet scent of flowers with the salty tang of the sea. Well-tanned locals at an unhurried pace continue their preparations for the tournament, while sunburned visitors sit in wicker chairs under the tents of The Proud Hunter and sip cold drinks. A half-dozen nearly naked shark hunters preparing to compete in the annual tournament stand in the shallows on the south shore, armed with harpoons and their wits. They are just practicing today - the competition itself is days ahead, but smart bookies come earlier to decide on the favorites and hunters know it, posing, bragging, and show-offing to the few spectators.
Soon the place will be buzzing with all kinds of noises - music, talks, bettings above all. But today the island is serene like a true paradise. The tropical dream of every busy soul seeking some well-deserved rest.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
We did not discuss the backgrounds, so, here is information that might help.
The map of the Island:
There are two categories of people in the village this time of the year: locals (including the majority of the hunters) and visitors. Most of the visitors are tourists that came to see the tournament, but some came to work: a few who want to join the hunt (from the cities along the coast), bookmakers, seasonal workers (there is enough work for everyone here), and mercenaries. The latter are hired by the village officials to protect the visitors because lately with sharks (lured here on purpose) come Sahuagin - unwelcome guests from an ocean trench just west of the village. In the water, they are viewed as an additional challnge for the hunters, but the sea devils are growing bolder and have begun to attack the shores as well.
(We are still in Faerun, so, you can be from any familiar location, visiting or working in this part of the world).
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Davis stands near one of the pavilians along the beach. He is a heavily-built human-looking mercenary, with salt-and-pepper black hair and calm gray eyes. A scar runs down one side of his face, from his missing left ear and down his chin. The scar seems to skip his neck, but continues just above his armor, disappearing from view under the heavy metal. He wears a set of adamantine armor, and looks quite warm in this island's sunshine. He holds a rune-carved glaive in one hand, like a staff, and has multiple other weapons attached over his body. An ornate quiver rests across his back, with spears and javelins poking up out of it. He seems to be watching the mostly-naked shark hunters as they strut and boast along the shoreline, but his attention is more often focused further out, watching the fins of sharks as they break the surface now and again.
Anyone who has been on the island for a couple of days, or more, would have seen Davis around often enough. He was hired as a mercenary to aid the island with the frequent assaults from the ocean, and to keep the peace among the hot bloods on the island itself. He is a calm, soft-spoken, man of mixed heritage.
The busgirl lounged just inside the doorway to The Proud Hunter, watching as servers go in and out, quietly observing the outdoor scene while absently drying some dishes. She was nearly impossible to see just inside the shadowy doorway given the glare of the bright sun outside. Her lithe elven body was unusually tall and thin. She wore a green elven cloak over her dark grey servants outfit, the cloak flung to one side to hang over a single shoulder. A minor fashion oddity for a busgirl, but nothing enough for anyone to complain about. Just the odd questioning glance. Her hair, long and blonde, hung down in a ponytail behind her back. As she moved out of the shadows to an outdoor table to collect some dishes she moved with the traditional grace of an elf, but kept her eyes downcast, focused on her job, as any good servant should be. As she worked a thin, finely wrought elven chain around her neck slipped out of her collar and hung down, showing a small adamantine disc and a golden heart hanging from it. As she stood straight back up to walk back to the building, she tucked the necklace back into her shirt absently before heading back to the building. After passing the dishes inside, she was quick to return to her indoor spot, just within the shadowy doorway to continue watching the events going on. Beneath the shelf she worked on was a wooden crate. Tucked within and hidden under a dish cloth, a hand crossbow with a mini-quiver of bolts lay silently, waiting.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
The day went on as usual - lazily-busy with spikes of excitement here and there. The new busgirl's eyes briefly stopped at the scene that was repeating itself every morning for the last several days: the fat merchant from Sammaresh begged her employer - Mrs. Quinnie (the feisty twice-widowed proud owner of The Proud Hunter) to accept his humble gift, promising to through himself into the sea if she refuses. Bright and colorful as a bird of paradise Quinnie laughed and kept waving him off, but the girl knew that after letting the man beg for an appropriate amount of time she'll agree, and judging by the size of the "humble gift" - a massive gold bracelet decorated with gemstones - she'll be kind to her employees for the rest of the day.
A dwarf with a bushy red beard in the corner of a tent had enough drinks to begin boasting about joining the hunt and showing them all what dwarves are made of. His wife noted that his only chance to kill a shark is if the poor fish chokes on his beard. Strangely, it did not stop the boasting, but nobody bet an eye, the family was well known here and both were big fans of the event (big bettors too).
At the beach, two hunters - a local dark-skinned human man and an outsider, a sea elf from the look of him - argued a bit too loud for the simple boasting, not listening to reasonable advice to "leave it for the sharks". Donjah, the last year champion - also local well-tenned giant with a family resemblance with Quinnie - watched the argument with a snotty smile then turned to a girl hunter near him - new contestant of this year, with dozens of sun-bleached braids, neatly tied together, bronze skin and an aura of eagerness around her. Neither bothered to interfere with the arguing but one of the bookmakers frowned and nervously ordered another drink. The death of a few hunters was something even counted on but the hunt was unpredictable enough to factor a quarrel into betting.
Davis caught the look of another merc watching the crowd and the man shook his head slightly - nothing to worry about. Not yet. The sapphire waters remain calm, though a few shark fins could be spotted close enough. The hunters began to line up for diving.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Davis gave the other man a nod of agreement, not overly concerned if these hunters bloodied each other a bit prior to the festivities. He stayed put, having found a place with a bit of shade, in the leu of one of the many pavilions along the beach. He was content to stand and watch, his main duty to watch for threats from the water itself, and to aid if things did get out of hand with the hot blooded people on the island itself.
The busgirl found herself with a few minutes to spare. She leaned casually on the wall just inside the shadows of the servants passage and contemplated life. She'd come here to escape. Literally and figuratively. She needed a break. Even here in such a beautiful location, people were people. Each with their own self important needs, their violent tendencies, their politics. She watched it all with a keen eye. Not here for money, or power, or manipulation, just here to observe. Her eyes would stop and rest on each individual, judging them, weighing what she saw, defining them. Threat. Victim. Ally. With a casual glance she decided....were they honorable, did they have morals, qualms...were they soft....or were they emotionally distant. Each person like a book for her practiced eyes to read....to identify how best to manipulate, to identify weakness, strengths. Each one an adversary in some way, an adversary who was trying to tell the world how they were strong, to hide their weakness. The order had trained her well. Nameless now, she waited....waited for the future to come to her. Patiently she we watch....and be ready.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Everyone knew who Hansel was...
What a priest of Sune was doing at Peara Tira was anyone's guess, but the young human male had certainly made his presence known. He spent most mornings clad in only a knee-length pair of leggings, running along the beach with his well-toned bronzed torso gleaming with scented oils, and occasionally taking a refreshing swim in the shallows. His meals were taken at the Proud Hunter, chatting or flirting with locals and visitors alike, complimenting them on their appearance, making candid but insightful suggestions about how to accentuate their best features, and particularly enjoying gossiping with passing couples and making cheeky remarks about romance. Afternoons were generally passed strutting up and down the promenade in a light tunic, open at the chest, with his wavy blonde locks rippling in the breeze. And sometimes in the evenings he could be spotted sitting alone on a secluded beach in the moonlight gazing at his own reflection in a small handheld mirror.
Coming from anyone else, all these behaviours might come across as irritating at the least. And yet his winning smile, his casual, genuine, friendly, extroverted personality, and the way in which he seemed to make everyone feel good about themselves and each other... you couldn't help but like the young man, and feel as though the sun just shone a little brighter when he was around. Hansel seemed like a casual tourist on a tropical holiday, and yet anyone could see that he took all these activities as seriously as though they were his life's purpose.
It is implied that Hansel has at least greeted Davis and 'the busgirl' at some point, but we can still interact as strangers when the time comes...
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Hansel's secret (if there was one) was safe - no one among the personnel was going to bother guests with the questions, of course not. The other guests - that was another matter, but among those who worked here, the young priest of Lady Firehair was quite popular as he was. The eyes of Quinnie's girls, that tirelessly smiled, flirted, and by every means encouraged the clients to leave more gold here, softened when they looked in his direction. Boys appreciated a friendly attitude and happily smiled back, though, hunters were simply bound to keep the tough attitude, giving Hensel contemptuous glances of true fighters looking at the soft "city-boy". (To be fair, any non-hunters were getting that attitude, the hunters knew their worth.)
Today was no different: smiles in the tavern, friendly waving and back-and-forth jokes, demonstrative posing and deceptively lazy moves from hunters, all of this accompanied by the eternal music of the waves under the cloudless sky. If there is a paradise on Faerun, it is right here.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Whipping a hand through his hair, Yusko stepped off of one of the smaller boats docking. He looked back at the small crew, gave a small wave and headed off along the beach. He hoisted his pack a little more securely. Looking about he was liking what he saw. Plenty of clients, as in plenty of those those that are going to need bandages and stitches and potentially a whole lot more.
On occasion, a mountain of a man with features as hard and sharp as stone could have been spotted standing firm as a post at seemingly random intervals throughout the days leading up to the event. His arms were always crossed, and no matter what occurred around him, or right in front of his face, he was unmoving much like a statue. Eyes always alert, but no words ever muttered. He appeared to be a simple man with big muscles and simple clothes. However, he carried a unique and hefty shell pack on his back everywhere he went. On the rare occasion should someone have been watching him, any time he would move, it would be with long strides made with great purpose, simply moving from one sunny area during the cooler mornings and into the shade during the hotter afternoons, but never did he stray far from a buffet table.
just an unstable unicorn.
The burly giant with the shell pack did indeed got quite a few glances for the first couple of days. Hunters watched out for competition, bookies - for a promising shot, and all kinds of workers around were eyeing him for the potential profits. The man disappointed everyone equally, except the tavern owner (if you are alive, you need to eat, and Quinnie's "establishment" would be your only place for this on the island. Not to mention, the food was good.)
Yusko came in time - the hunters were about to begin. Three sharks, lured by a few chunks of meat closer to the island, got to the appropriate distance (when the spectators could comfortably enough see the show). Sometimes - and that was really for shows only - the sharks were hunted right under the bridge, but not today. Today was a true combat practice - everything is for real, except the price.
At the signal of the greyhaired one-eyed eternal arbiter of the competitions (a loud shout only a professional diver can produce), all hunters stepped into the water. They did not rush, slowly walking towards the dropoff a few yards from the shore, watching every move of the huge fins intently. Each of them fully understood that their life depended on the ability to predict shark's movements and reactions. Finally, one by one they silently dived deep and swam to the predators, that were circling half a pig floating on the water.
The voices on the terraces died down. Now everyone, even servants for a moment, moved closer to watch the beginning of the deadly game. The first hunter to make the kill would be declared the winner, and no one wanted to miss the final blow - something, that will be discussed in detail for days.
(And with this we begin! Please, give me an approximate position, everyone. Like "on the shore, near the water watching", or "inside the tavern" - that kind of approximation)
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Davis stands by one of the pavilions along the shoreline, standing in its shadow to keep his adamantine armor somewhat out of the direct sunlight.
Yusco would have his pack stowed away but a med kit in hand which has a few bottle stowed away inside it in a secure fashion. He's on the coast watching and waiting.
The busgirl is in the shadows, just inside the servers entrance to the tavern. In the shadows, and behind a crowd of people all focused on some event is just where she feels most natural. She only partially pays attention to the shark hunt, she's far more interested in people watching in the crowd and about.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
The mountain man stood still as could be, practically an additional pillar outside the tavern, not far from the palm tree. Avoiding shadows at this time and fully exposed with the sun beaming down upon his chest, this position set him almost at a centre point. He’d have a clear view over the shore, cottages, picnic tables, tavern and even the centre statue with the stalls behind. Of course, with the shark hunt about to begin, it was plenty reason to keep a focused eye in that direction with passive watch elsewhere.
just an unstable unicorn.
(Hansel as a social and curious soul is placed on the beach among the most enthusiastic spectators)
By now hunters had to be close to the sharks and the animals definitely noticed new prey. It was hard to see the humans under the water from that distance but triangular fins definitely changed direction and a few moments later disappeared from the view - sharks dived deeper as well.
Shark hunt is not the loudest of entertainment. The spectators were quiet as well and for some time the only sound one could hear was the waves and the wind. Then the serene scenery suddenly burst with sounds and action. One of the sharks leaped out of the water with a screaming hunter in its toothy jaws. The crowd gasped in a unison. The massive fish immediately plunged back into the ocean, staining the waters with dark red, but now one by one the hunters began to emerge on the surface - a few dived back, probably hoping to save their comrade, but some turned to the shore with such horror on their faces, that it could not be explained by the attack alone.
They swam as fast as was humanly possible and once the first one reached the shallow waters the people on the beach heard the shout "Sea devils! They are coming!"
At that very moment, the ground beneath the feet of those on the island trembled and cracked - one beam of the tavern cracked, a flimsy shad outside simply collapsed (judging by the sound someone was inside). A huge wave - a dozen feet high - picked the yelling hunter up and crashed into the shore, and the sound of screaming filled the air as a stampede of beachgoers tried to flee the sands.
The wave swept a few tourists, too slow to react, into the ocean and a chorus of shrieks added to the cacophony as unlucky people and straggling shark hunters saw several humanoid creatures with fish-like heads and slick, rubbery skin emerging from the depths.
Everyone - Dex save DC10 or fall prone (for Hansel and Yusko "1" would mean to be swept into the water)
Roll initiative too, please.
Map:
G - Grandma Trudie, N - Nameless One, H - Hansel, D - Davis, Y - Yusko
Davis - you are 30ft from the water, sahuagin still in the sea (there are four of them so far), the closest is 45ft away from the shore. The panicking crowd is trying to run away from the southern shore where you all are.
NB! Neither of you ever heard of the earthquakes around here. The tremor is the most unusual thing.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
The moment the earth beneath his feet trembled, the mountain man’s visage would finally crack with concern. He’d nod with such assurance, it’s as if he just made an important decision to himself. The large man would finally snap into action. Slowly he’d unfold his arms and reach for his tortoiseshell pack to unhook it from his back with care, his muscles flexing from the weight of it. As smooth and as gingerly as could be, he’d lower it down into the sand. After a pause he’d lean forward to place an ear against it to listen. Then he’d knock on it in a pattern.
A large echoing yawn would come from inside, then out pops an elderly Tortle, smacking her lips. Eyes squinted and interchangeably blinked as fast as molasses could pour. “Is it that time already?” She’d use a staff to help her up off the sand. “Alrighty… Pitter patter, let’s get atter…” Reaching behind her, she’d push on her back to stretch some more, and with a few snap crackles and pops, a deep sigh of relief would leave her. Grandma would then reach up as far as she could, the mountain man meeting her most of the way, “Thank you for the lift young man.” She’d give him a little pat on the cheek. And with that, she’d turn to saunter off towards the chaos.
Dex save: 14
just an unstable unicorn.
Dex save 17
Yusko stood still and watched the participants dive down. He know it was only a matter of time before someone got injured. A bite here, a broken bone from rough contact, and even scrapped skin from their rough scales. But the shaking and these creatures were unexpected. While unexpected, his sea legs proved a match for the trembling ground and he remained upright as the wave crashed around him.
Turning towards the screams and the sea creatures Yusko starts to move into action. "Hey, everyone calm down. If you don't have a weapon, get to the bar. If ya have a weapon, form up!" he yells.
initiative 11
Bus-girl Dex save vs DC 10 : 13
The bus-girl's eyes opened wide at the sudden wrenching break from paradise, into havoc in mere moments. More surprising, the huge hulking giant of a man unleashing.....a bent wizened old turtle woman! She had NOT seen that one coming.
Initiative : 28
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.