“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure big guy, act like ya can hold your booze.”

“Ha! You couldn’t even stomach the brew, so I’ll still count myself ahead. Now, food!”

Leif conversation: I'll be asking about the local sea life, fishing prospects and any known beasts, monsters or pirates in the waters here.  Then I'll take them up on the offer of gold for work.

Tine laughed, a warm, melodic sound that blended right in with the chatter of the crowd. The townsfolk’s sudden friendliness was a welcome change from their wary glances earlier, and she found herself utterly caught up in the stories. Her eyes wide, smile bright, hanging on every word. “Flame incarnate, twin warriors, singers who made the ocean stop?” she echoed in awe. “If half of that’s true, then this troupe isn’t just a carnival; they’re a legend that decided to wander.” She jotted quick mental notes, already thinking how the tales might twist into verses later. The tension that had followed her since yesterday seemed to melt in the laughter and the rhythm of the villagers’ voices, until the last story trailed off and quiet crept in. Her gaze flicked back toward where the doomsayer had collapsed…and her heart dropped. The cobblestone square was empty. No sleeping figure, no dragging footprints, just the faint shimmer of heat rising from the stones.

“Storm and stars…” she murmured, half to herself, eyes scanning the edges of the street. “He was right there. He couldn’t have just vanished.” Before she could look further, Orrin’s stomach gave a sound like distant thunder, and she jumped slightly, startled back into the present. Turning toward him, she couldn’t help but grin. “Alright, alright, big heart, we’ll find you something to eat before you start gnawing on your bag.” Her tone softened into amusement. “But after breakfast, we need to ask around about our vanished prophet. Folk say the troupe’s done the impossible before, maybe they’ve taken to collecting mysteries too.” As Aspen joined the back-and-forth, Tine just shook her head with a smirk. “If you two are done debating stomachs and pride, let’s see what the carnival’s serving. I’m starving too, and I’m not missing a chance to hear these legends in song before the day’s done.” Still, as she followed the scent of roasting bread and spice through the crowd, she glanced once more at the empty square, a flicker of unease curling beneath her excitement.

Quote from chrisbodmann >>

“Ha! You couldn’t even stomach the brew, so I’ll still count myself ahead. Now, food!”

 “I didn’t have any because I’m technically not allowed to drink because I’m not 100 yet! I’ll have you know I can handle my booze perfectly, thank you very much Mr. Barfy.”

Leif -- agreeing to take on the fishermen's job, you begin to lug heavy sacks of fish up the damp stairs. Now, only the prospect of gold -- and information -- keeps you going. Grunting once more, you set your bag down, now about three-quarters of the way up the cliff. Far below you, bags are unpacked and tents are assembled, the clanging of bells and rich aroma wafting up towards you. Farther out, it looks like a perfect day -- for miles of clear blue ocean, the sky reflects what is below. Small wisps of white converge on the horizon, but they aren't threatening storm-clouds. There's no better time, so you play your hand. 

"So, you seem like a seasoned mariner." 

The fisherman nods. "Been at it for fifty years, just like my father before me, and his father before him." 

"Do you know anything of creatures - whether beasts, friends, or in-between - that prowl these waters?" 

The fisherman stops, turning to look at you. He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, drawing you in closer. "Many beasts prowl these waters - while we have sirens and merfolk, greater evils haunt the depths...beasts of names I do not know..." Then he continues to walk, trudging towards the town ahead. 

The ringmaster turns back to Zofsaadi and Eve. "We met a group of sahuagin on the way here - barely made our way out, even with our cannon. Of course, we've had troubles with more than that before, but that's a story for another time. Suffice to say, we've had our share of hardships." With that, he departs, shouting at the workers to work faster.

Tents are set up around you, food is made, and all sorts of folk parade around in costumes and paint, ready to show their skills. In only minutes, a full carnival has been set up around you, ready for the town's attention. You see friends -- Tine, Orrin, and Aspen all come on down, ready to enjoy this festival. 

Tine, Orrin, Aspen -- you make your way down to the shoreline, Orrin and Aspen still bickering, seagulls heralding your arrival as you gasp at the tents being erected. Although no performances have begun yet, a dinner is being served to the townsfolk -- rich food, full of spices and meats from places unknown. Lining up and filling your plate, the aromas wafting through you and numbing your senses, you receive some of the best food you've tasted in a while -- better than Mae's, certainly. It's not quite a dinner, but not quite a lunch -- but either way, a perfect meal, warming your insides in response to the bitter cold of the ocean's wind. You stand, chatting, as a performer approaches, also holding a dish. "Well, friends," he says, the paint below his eyes masking a crinkling smile. "Are you ready for a show?"

(OOC: Note -- the food is also slightly enchanted, perhaps through some remnants of the magic that is performed in and around the performers. Anyone who eats a meal of it gains 5 temporary HP.)

Quote from Weslockes >>

Leif -- agreeing to take on the fishermen's job, you begin to lug heavy sacks of fish up the damp stairs. Now, only the prospect of gold -- and information -- keeps you going. Grunting once more, you set your bag down, now about three-quarters of the way up the cliff. Far below you, bags are unpacked and tents are assembled, the clanging of bells and rich aroma wafting up towards you. Farther out, it looks like a perfect day -- for miles of clear blue ocean, the sky reflects what is below. Small wisps of white converge on the horizon, but they aren't threatening storm-clouds. There's no better time, so you play your hand. 

"So, you seem like a seasoned mariner." 

The fisherman nods. "Been at it for fifty years, just like my father before me, and his father before him." 

"Do you know anything of creatures - whether beasts, friends, or in-between - that prowl these waters?" 

The fisherman stops, turning to look at you. He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, drawing you in closer. "Many beasts prowl these waters - while we have sirens and merfolk, greater evils haunt the depths...beasts of names I do not know..." Then he continues to walk, trudging towards the town ahead. 

---

The ringmaster turns back to Zofsaadi and Eve. "We met a group of sahuagin on the way here - barely made our way out, even with our cannon. Of course, we've had troubles with more than that before, but that's a story for another time. Suffice to say, we've had our share of hardships." With that, he departs, shouting at the workers to work faster.

Tents are set up around you, food is made, and all sorts of folk parade around in costumes and paint, ready to show their skills. In only minutes, a full carnival has been set up around you, ready for the town's attention. You see friends -- Tine, Orrin, and Aspen all come on down, ready to enjoy this festival. 

---

Tine, Orrin, Aspen -- you make your way down to the shoreline, Orrin and Aspen still bickering, seagulls heralding your arrival as you gasp at the tents being erected. Although no performances have begun yet, a dinner is being served to the townsfolk -- rich food, full of spices and meats from places unknown. Lining up and filling your plate, the aromas wafting through you and numbing your senses, you receive some of the best food you've tasted in a while -- better than Mae's, certainly. It's not quite a dinner, but not quite a lunch -- but either way, a perfect meal, warming your insides in response to the bitter cold of the ocean's wind. You stand, chatting, as a performer approaches, also holding a dish. "Well, friends," he says, the paint below his eyes masking a crinkling smile. "Are you ready for a show?"

(OOC: Note -- the food is also slightly enchanted, perhaps through some remnants of the magic that is performed in and around the performers. Anyone who eats a meal of it gains 5 temporary HP.)

 Eve will be there quiet self, and wave hello, but not say anything 

"Well, I surely am ready for it". After finishing his meal Zofsaadi turns to friends "Hey Aspen, have you seen anything interesting in town today?"

Quote from Arcanmas >>

"Well, I surely am ready for it". After finishing his meal Zofsaadi turns to friends "Hey Aspen, have you seen anything interesting in town today?"

 “Eh, not much. No magic shop, and no library, so I was stuck babysitting Orrin.” Aspen starts to whisper at the last few words, careful not to alert Orrin to what he’s saying. 
“Did you find anything?”

 "Only that new ship had a hard time ecaping from sahuagins, whoever they are, before getting here"

Tine’s eyes went wide as the shoreline came into view, a patchwork of colorful tents blooming against the gray-blue sea, gulls crying overhead, and the scent of roasted meat and spice thick in the air. The sight alone seemed to wash away the morning’s heaviness. “Now this,” she breathed, grinning, “is the kind of welcome I was hoping for.” She joined the line with the others, filling her plate with rich, steaming food that smelled like it came from a dozen ports at once. The first bite drew a hum of delight. “Saints alive,” she said between mouthfuls, “I’d trade half my purse for the recipe. Maybe even the good half.” Tine paused mid-bite, brows lifting at the mention of Sahuagins. “Sahuagins?” she repeated. “Sea devils, if the stories are true. Nasty things, though I’ve never seen one myself.” Her tone held that familiar spark of fascination. “Seems even the ocean’s been busy lately. Orrin and I ran into a man screaming about the end of the world.”

Before she could press further, a performer approached, paint streaked under his eyes, a plate in hand and a grin to match. Tine’s grin returned immediately, bright and unguarded at the performer as they came over. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve been ready since I smelled the stew. If your show’s half as good as your cooking, you’ll have us all enchanted.” She rested a hand on her fiddle, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Tell me, what kind of show are we in for? Music? Magic? Something to make the gulls jealous they didn’t buy a ticket?”

Orrin sighed loudly, his hunger sated. When he heard of the sighuan, he perked up. “Finally, something to sink my blade into. Where did you hear of these creatures?” He asked. “We shall destroy them!”

"I can see you're a spellbound one," chuckles the newcomer graciously as he absentmindedly rummages through a pocket. He hands Zofsaadi a crumpled piece of parchment -- "Here's our programme. It'll interest you, or you're a gull yourself." 

Reading through the program, you spot more than you could possibly enjoy -- shows of magic, dexterity, music, and more. Faded beasts dance across the page, led by drawings of dancers and singers twirling batons. It's a loaded event, full of anything you could want. "Keep it," the man says. "I've got to get going now. See you at the show!" With that goodbye, he departs, darting away across the sands towards a larger-sized tent. 

(OOC: Examining the shows, you see that there are four main blocks -- one after another -- where shows take place, each an hour and half long. Upcoming are a 'Cornucopia of Beasts' in the main tent, an acrobatics show nearby, and several assorted performances along the beach.)

Eve signs the following message "Do you guys think that id enjoy it?"

Orrin looks at the schedule. “Let’s go watch one of the shows on the beach.”

Eve signs to Orrin "That might be a good idea"

Crumb, after having all of his tools worked on by the blacksmith leaves. Leaving the shop, unsure where his newly found friends have gone, he figures he’ll head towards the shoreline to see if he can find anybody. 

Crumb -- you leave the blacksmith's shop with a sense of pleasure, of success. Your tools are all refined again (OOC: deduct 2 SP from your inventory), and you stroll briskly down the steps, following the scent of freshly-cooked foods as the sun begins to set. It's not hard to find your friends, all clustered up in the middle of the sea of tents. 

(OOC: Note: I'll be off DDB for most of, if not all of, November 1st-3rd [EST])

(OOC: After helping the sailors, Leif will head over to the circus).