Joy can see that Irvan is definitely hiding something. He shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other, barely perceptible even to the scrutinizing and protective eyes of Joy. It is there though. His dominant hand twitches toward the dagger at his belt before Irvan catches it and controls himself by turning the twitch to some display of him talking with his hands. After a very careful analysis, however, Joy can see this is out of nervous habit than murderous intent. He seems genuine in his desire to spend time with a friendly face and Joy can sense no malice from him directed at Ylis.
The group shuffles off the stage and Agathe prepares the table for the next contest. "Next contest will be in 10 minutes!" She says while gathering up a pile of hand towels. As she does, Riven hears a familiar loud thud as the heavy gold coin impacts the floorboards of her stage. Agathe gasps and the rippling sound of towels hitting the stage right next to the coin can also be heard. Whether he chooses to look or not, Riven can feel her eyes on the Fellowship as she kneels down to pick up the coin.
Ylis hears the announcement and knows that should she try to compete again for the rest of the day, she would... as Riven had put it in this thoughts, be covered in regret. Irvan waits for her response, but everyone can also sense that he is looking to withdraw from the attention.
The festival is a series of many games and there is far more of the town to explore. The group already saw some kind of competition at the rice fields on their way into town, up to the northwest of the city, near the entrance. They can also hear someone announcing some other game on the road they are currently on to the south. But what kind of festival has only three games? Surely not one in the town known for competition. What does the party wish to do?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Randa smirks slightly as Joy plays a combination of big sister, mum and unsure aunt to Ylis, she sees the tension in some of the others but is unsure of the reason and as there seems to be no actual danger she does begin asking around after what other forms of competition there may be.......preferably with less regurgitation......perhaps a test of skill or daring?
"Well...I'm not allowed to meet up with boys just yet, but we're all going to be there," gesturing at all her friends, Ylis gives Irvin a smile, "Maybe we'll run into each other there?"
Joy is giving the guy "the look" and Ylis has learned kinda to listen to it.
Addressing the group, "Let's go look for some other kind of game! Uh..without food though..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
Vazo'yn's suspicions are only heightened by Irvan's request to meet Ylis later, though he has no reasonable way to stop it. Thankfully Ylis delicately manages the odd encounter while Vazo'yn's stands stoically nearby where, without being aware of it, he may appear as the overprotective father-type to Ylis young damsel.
"Enjoy the rest of the festival, Irvan Wastewalker," Vazo'yn says with the slightest emphasis on Irvan's clan name, making it clear he knows exactly to whom the man owes his allegiance.
"What sort of games and contests are you in the mood for?" he asks the rest of the group. "The festival should cater to just about everything."
Irvan's mouth opens in shocked confusion and he seems like he is about to attempt to address what he sees as a wild misunderstanding, but thinks better of it. He smiles and chuckles through his nose, then bows to Ylis. "Perhaps we will. Enjoy the festival." Irvan fires a glance at Vazo'yn and frowns, but says nothing and quickly retreats.
The group begins to explore the town. Randa leads the way and astoundingly, the group manages to wander for nearly an hour and never finds a single festival challenge... somehow. Some among the group may wonder if she is sick or deliberately leading you in circles.
As they wander, Joy looks to Vazo'yn curiously, somewhat glad they have more time to talk. Though she does begin to wonder if Randa is coming down with Swamp Fever...
"So, the Festival of Merit. Can you tell us more about its history and purpose? I did hear a little about the Luxon on the way here. Is it related to uh...con-con...what was the word?"
Riven had remained silent through most of the aftermath. Watching Irvan stumble over his own name had been telling enough, but it was the emphasis Vazo’yn put on Wastewalker that truly caught his ear. That, and the awkward way Irvan retreated, glancing back just long enough to give himself away.
As the group moved, Riven trailed near the rear, letting the weight of the crowd press lightly against him but never quite closing in. He glanced ahead to Randa, weaving aimlessly through town like was a drift with no destination in particular.
His eyes cut to Berk, now moving closer to Joy, listening sharply at the mention of the Luxon.
“Didn't miss that, did you? Luxon. You heard it, and started listening.”
He let the observation hang in the air, sharp and casual all at once. “Anything I should know, or do you just have a keen interest?”
Without breaking stride, Riven glances forward toward the others. “Either way, we need a real contest. One that draws more than coin and show-offs."
Then, almost as an afterthought, “And somewhere without pies.”
"Consecution," Vazo'yn offers the word Joy had struggled to find. It's said with reverence that draws away the lingering suspicion of the Wastewalker.
"It's an honour bestowed upon those who prove themselves worthy. Through the Luxon, they are given the chance to perfect themselves across many lifetimes, being reborn again and again after each death into a new life."
Vazo'yn's voice remains reverential but becomes laced with pride as he continues, though there is a brief pause and his pace slows.
"It is something I had planned to tell you about. Since we last parted, I have learned that I was once Consecuted. The voices and visions that I thought were the whispers of my ancestors are actually flashes of my own memories from previous lives. I don't know when or why I was given this privilege, but perhaps one day that memory will return."
Once he realises that Randa may have gotten herself turned about, he will keep his own eyes trained for a suitable contest, eager to show off the Festival's offerings.
OOC: 16 investigation for Vazo'yn to look for a contest.
Berk looks to Riven and is about to respond, but stops when Vazo'yn speaks. "How have you learned that you were consecuted? Is that something you can share?" he asks him, then adds to Riven, "there are things about my past, such as where I come from, that are ... unknown. My circumstances resemble stories I've heard about the Luxon, so I'm curious to learn more about it."
"'Perfection across lifetimes'," Joy repeats thoughtfully, placing a hand to her chin, "It's an amazing blessing! And if anyone deserves it, it's you."She lets Berk cut in, noticing how important the topic seems to him. Being separated from one's memories must be terrible. "Does it feel anything like our memories from the other timelines?"
At the same time, she tries her luck at spotting anything fun. A test of strength perhaps?
Vazo'yn is surprised but not concerned by Berk's keen interest in the Luxon and the honoured tradition of Consecution. He speaks freely of his newfound discovery and the faith it has aroused in him.
"On my travels I met a devout follower of the Luxon. After sharing tales over the campfire, she told me of Consecution and pointed out how similar to my experience it sounded. Through a... guided meditation I came to more fully understand the things I see and hear."
He looks to Berk with an empathetic expression, trying to convey that he understands the struggles of being unsure about your past and your own mind.
"Perhaps someone could help you like they helped me," he suggests.
To Joy, he answers, "They are similar to our experience, though not the same. What we experienced feels more defined. That was me, Vazo'yn. Or it will be me. But these flashes of memory, they are me... but also not me. At least, not Vazo'yn."
It is obvious that he finds it difficult to put into words how he reconciles the two similar but different experiences in his mind.
Riven had been listening with the same distant attention he gave to most things: eyes forward, chin lowered slightly, gaze drifting somewhere past the edge of the conversation. But as Vazo’yn spoke of seeing himself, and not himself, living moments that were and were not his, that drew something sharper behind his expression. Not quite surprise. Recognition.
His arms folded, thumb brushing the knuckle of one gloved hand, idle, thoughtful.
When Vazo’yn finished, Riven spoke, voice low, not dismissive, but weight carried quiet.
“Strange thing. Seeing another version of yourself walking the world. Same step, same hands… but not the same.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Vazo’yn.
“It’s one thing to imagine you could’ve been someone else. Another to watch it.”
For a moment, his lip curled, in something near to dry amusement at the absurdity of it all.
“...I understand more than you know.”
He offers no further explanation, only falling back into step with the others as if that admission cost him nothing at all.
Between the efforts of Joy, Vazo'yn, and Ylis, the party is able to locate all the remaining games playing for this final day of the festival.
Directly south on the road from the last contest, there is a game of intellect with a series of riddles that the contestants must answer.
To the far south, near the docks, is a maze.
Just beyond the maze at the docks themselves, there is a swimming race.
A tortoise-riding challenge is being hosted in the field to the southeast.
To the northeast is an arm-wrestling challenge.
A team-challenge is in the rice-fields to the northwest. Harvesting rice, which will contribute to the community food stores for winter.
Through their search, the Fellowship is also made aware of 'The Final Contest' that will be hosted at sunset. A team race comprised of the participants of the previous challenges. Generally, the winners and runner-ups are selected, to give the runner-ups a chance to redeem themselves. The Fellowship is encouraged to participate in more games if they would like to participate in the last game of the year.
Being new to the group, Berk remains quiet, taking it all in for now.
Joy can see that Irvan is definitely hiding something. He shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other, barely perceptible even to the scrutinizing and protective eyes of Joy. It is there though. His dominant hand twitches toward the dagger at his belt before Irvan catches it and controls himself by turning the twitch to some display of him talking with his hands. After a very careful analysis, however, Joy can see this is out of nervous habit than murderous intent. He seems genuine in his desire to spend time with a friendly face and Joy can sense no malice from him directed at Ylis.
The group shuffles off the stage and Agathe prepares the table for the next contest. "Next contest will be in 10 minutes!" She says while gathering up a pile of hand towels. As she does, Riven hears a familiar loud thud as the heavy gold coin impacts the floorboards of her stage. Agathe gasps and the rippling sound of towels hitting the stage right next to the coin can also be heard. Whether he chooses to look or not, Riven can feel her eyes on the Fellowship as she kneels down to pick up the coin.
Ylis hears the announcement and knows that should she try to compete again for the rest of the day, she would... as Riven had put it in this thoughts, be covered in regret. Irvan waits for her response, but everyone can also sense that he is looking to withdraw from the attention.
The festival is a series of many games and there is far more of the town to explore. The group already saw some kind of competition at the rice fields on their way into town, up to the northwest of the city, near the entrance. They can also hear someone announcing some other game on the road they are currently on to the south. But what kind of festival has only three games? Surely not one in the town known for competition. What does the party wish to do?
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
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DM: Just attaching your current locations and the places I mentioned.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
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Randa smirks slightly as Joy plays a combination of big sister, mum and unsure aunt to Ylis, she sees the tension in some of the others but is unsure of the reason and as there seems to be no actual danger she does begin asking around after what other forms of competition there may be.......preferably with less regurgitation......perhaps a test of skill or daring?
Investigation- 0
"Well...I'm not allowed to meet up with boys just yet, but we're all going to be there," gesturing at all her friends, Ylis gives Irvin a smile, "Maybe we'll run into each other there?"
Joy is giving the guy "the look" and Ylis has learned kinda to listen to it.
Addressing the group, "Let's go look for some other kind of game! Uh..without food though..."
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Vazo'yn's suspicions are only heightened by Irvan's request to meet Ylis later, though he has no reasonable way to stop it. Thankfully Ylis delicately manages the odd encounter while Vazo'yn's stands stoically nearby where, without being aware of it, he may appear as the overprotective father-type to Ylis young damsel.
"Enjoy the rest of the festival, Irvan Wastewalker," Vazo'yn says with the slightest emphasis on Irvan's clan name, making it clear he knows exactly to whom the man owes his allegiance.
"What sort of games and contests are you in the mood for?" he asks the rest of the group. "The festival should cater to just about everything."
Irvan's mouth opens in shocked confusion and he seems like he is about to attempt to address what he sees as a wild misunderstanding, but thinks better of it. He smiles and chuckles through his nose, then bows to Ylis. "Perhaps we will. Enjoy the festival." Irvan fires a glance at Vazo'yn and frowns, but says nothing and quickly retreats.
The group begins to explore the town. Randa leads the way and astoundingly, the group manages to wander for nearly an hour and never finds a single festival challenge... somehow. Some among the group may wonder if she is sick or deliberately leading you in circles.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
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DM: Was writing as Wynt was posting, so I missed it. Edited in a response to his post.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
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As they wander, Joy looks to Vazo'yn curiously, somewhat glad they have more time to talk. Though she does begin to wonder if Randa is coming down with Swamp Fever...
"So, the Festival of Merit. Can you tell us more about its history and purpose? I did hear a little about the Luxon on the way here. Is it related to uh...con-con...what was the word?"
At the mention of the Luxon, Berk moves a little closer to Joy, making sure he can hear what she says.
Randa gives up in embarrassment.....cities just aren't her thing......and decides to trail Joy and Ylis instead.
Riven had remained silent through most of the aftermath. Watching Irvan stumble over his own name had been telling enough, but it was the emphasis Vazo’yn put on Wastewalker that truly caught his ear. That, and the awkward way Irvan retreated, glancing back just long enough to give himself away.
As the group moved, Riven trailed near the rear, letting the weight of the crowd press lightly against him but never quite closing in. He glanced ahead to Randa, weaving aimlessly through town like was a drift with no destination in particular.
His eyes cut to Berk, now moving closer to Joy, listening sharply at the mention of the Luxon.
“Didn't miss that, did you? Luxon. You heard it, and started listening.”
He let the observation hang in the air, sharp and casual all at once. “Anything I should know, or do you just have a keen interest?”
Without breaking stride, Riven glances forward toward the others. “Either way, we need a real contest. One that draws more than coin and show-offs."
Then, almost as an afterthought, “And somewhere without pies.”
"Consecution," Vazo'yn offers the word Joy had struggled to find. It's said with reverence that draws away the lingering suspicion of the Wastewalker.
"It's an honour bestowed upon those who prove themselves worthy. Through the Luxon, they are given the chance to perfect themselves across many lifetimes, being reborn again and again after each death into a new life."
Vazo'yn's voice remains reverential but becomes laced with pride as he continues, though there is a brief pause and his pace slows.
"It is something I had planned to tell you about. Since we last parted, I have learned that I was once Consecuted. The voices and visions that I thought were the whispers of my ancestors are actually flashes of my own memories from previous lives. I don't know when or why I was given this privilege, but perhaps one day that memory will return."
Once he realises that Randa may have gotten herself turned about, he will keep his own eyes trained for a suitable contest, eager to show off the Festival's offerings.
OOC: 16 investigation for Vazo'yn to look for a contest.
Ylis looking for games to play..and candy!
PER check 21
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Berk looks to Riven and is about to respond, but stops when Vazo'yn speaks. "How have you learned that you were consecuted? Is that something you can share?" he asks him, then adds to Riven, "there are things about my past, such as where I come from, that are ... unknown. My circumstances resemble stories I've heard about the Luxon, so I'm curious to learn more about it."
Riven studies Berk, “Wanting to know where you come from, that’s fair,” he says quietly. “Everyone deserves that.”
A glance to Vazo’yn, thoughtful, then back to Berk. “Sometimes you don’t find answers until you find the right people to help you look.”
"'Perfection across lifetimes'," Joy repeats thoughtfully, placing a hand to her chin, "It's an amazing blessing! And if anyone deserves it, it's you." She lets Berk cut in, noticing how important the topic seems to him. Being separated from one's memories must be terrible. "Does it feel anything like our memories from the other timelines?"
At the same time, she tries her luck at spotting anything fun. A test of strength perhaps?
Perception: nat 20+1
Vazo'yn is surprised but not concerned by Berk's keen interest in the Luxon and the honoured tradition of Consecution. He speaks freely of his newfound discovery and the faith it has aroused in him.
Riven had been listening with the same distant attention he gave to most things: eyes forward, chin lowered slightly, gaze drifting somewhere past the edge of the conversation. But as Vazo’yn spoke of seeing himself, and not himself, living moments that were and were not his, that drew something sharper behind his expression. Not quite surprise. Recognition.
His arms folded, thumb brushing the knuckle of one gloved hand, idle, thoughtful.
When Vazo’yn finished, Riven spoke, voice low, not dismissive, but weight carried quiet.
“Strange thing. Seeing another version of yourself walking the world. Same step, same hands… but not the same.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Vazo’yn.
“It’s one thing to imagine you could’ve been someone else. Another to watch it.”
For a moment, his lip curled, in something near to dry amusement at the absurdity of it all.
“...I understand more than you know.”
He offers no further explanation, only falling back into step with the others as if that admission cost him nothing at all.
Between the efforts of Joy, Vazo'yn, and Ylis, the party is able to locate all the remaining games playing for this final day of the festival.
Through their search, the Fellowship is also made aware of 'The Final Contest' that will be hosted at sunset. A team race comprised of the participants of the previous challenges. Generally, the winners and runner-ups are selected, to give the runner-ups a chance to redeem themselves. The Fellowship is encouraged to participate in more games if they would like to participate in the last game of the year.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
Check out my life-changing