Barnaby will go up to the bar where he will climb up and stand on a stool in order to get the bartender's attention. Um...excuse me, waving his staff about. Please could I get my flask here filled with your most middling of whiskeys? Seems a busy night...or is it always like this? The Wachter brothers there, what's their story? Do they just come in here and yuk it up with the crowd, or do they have a favorite topic? Barnaby slides a couple extra gold pieces over along with his payment for the whiskey.
If the gold is not enough and you want a persuasion roll as well, Barnaby will use his portent roll of 15 for a total of 16. (If the roll wasn't needed, I'll keep it :) )
We just have the wine, little friend. Just the wine. But thanks to you and your friends, we have plenty of it.
The brothers? They're ok. Harmless. Maybe brainless. I'm not sure who that lot is talking to them; normally they just sit there and drink alone. Maybe staying out of their mother's way. He shrugs.
I'll keep that persuasion roll, TYVM. It made a difference.
Yes, indeed, ( he leans in a little closer to make sure the hunters hear but others don't) we returned just today after securing some wine for the town from a way's up the road. Not sure I've had wolf meat, but we certainly had a couple run-ins with some ...ummm...wolf-like creatures. First time they looked like a blend of man and wolf, second time more like wolves. Both time we gave then a drubbing and they fled with tails between their legs. Ever encounter that type of wolf, my friends
They look at each other. By the crossroads? Yes, they watch the roads. You were lucky to escape with your lives. And none of you were . . . bitten? The hunters exchange a knowing look. You describe the encounter to their satisfaction. Well, you can find us here most nights. We'll tell you how to get around, or take you ourselves, if you have the coin. They thank you for the drinks again and lose interest in talking with you further.
As I see it, your choices now are (1) talk to Rictavio, who is a storyteller staying at the tavern, (2) somehow involve yourselves in the situation with the Wachter brothers, or (3) go to bed. You can do something else if you want, of course.
It's been a long day. At this point Barnaby is in his cups, eyes half closed, sliding down in his chair, trying to pay attention to what Kif is saying to the nice story teller. Chubs has fallen asleep/passed out with his face on the table.
Ok, sure thing. Kif swaps some stories with Rictavio - who is widely traveled, and an entertaining storyteller - as the rest of the party heads upstairs. Try as Kif might, he doesn't detect anything from Rictavio other than a desire to share stories while he stays at the inn. He does casually mention that he used to have a pet monkey, but he gave the pet to Blinsky, because Blinsky seemed to need a companion more than he did.
The night passes without incident. Take your long rest. Anything you wish to do before the festival? So far, your regular morning routine has involved going to get pastries. Which you do not have to do this morning, because you've kicked that habit, but you could check that out if you want. Or you could kill time until the festival, or you could do some other thing.
Naomi! Tell me. What is it? What makes your pies so irresistible? I woke this morning and they are all I could think of. Is it bacon? I am suspicious that that is always the answer in situations like this.
Bacon is delicious, but we are but simple girls who cannot get so much meat. I told you yesterday, Master Barnaby, that it is our grandmother's secret recipe. I can't tell you, or my sisters would be very mad!
Like I said, I don't want to discourage you from asking questions or being suspicious, but go ahead & order your pastries, because you want 'em.
Kif will take a look about the town square while the boys are in line for a scooby snack. What's going on, do I see the captain of the guard, boys in the stocks, preparations for the next festival? 19 perception
You don't see Izek. You do see something curious involving the next festival, though. Two commoners enter the town square with a guard *right* behind them, in a somewhat menacing fashion. But all that happens is they take up a stack of notices, and make their way around the square, pasting them onto the walls. The guard who accompanied them watches from a distance.
Naomi, fresh and perky as a daisy, greets you when you get to the front of the line. You ask about the recipe, and she hesitates slightly. It's our grandmother's secret recipe, Mister Barnaby! She prepares a pastry for you. And for your friend? Or he doesn't want one this morning?
Roll an Insight check. If you roll a 15 or higher, read this:
Now that you know that something is up with the pastries, you get the feeling that she knows something is up. She is trying to tell something about you, and there is definitely a point to her inquiry about Lucento.
Yes, yes, one for my friend as well. We'll wrap them in these napkins though. We're in quite the rush this morning what with the festival coming and all. I'm sure we'll eat them soon, what with them being so tasty and all.
When he has the opportunity, Barnaby will cast detect magic as a ritual to see if there is anything magical about the pastries. Additionally he will poke one apart with the tip of a dagger looking and smelling for anything out of the ordinary, nature? 11. Survival or medicine would be +1 in lieu of the +6 on the nature roll.
So let's look about the town square and see if we can find out how these festivals play out, maybe they'll have a playbill or something to help us follow along
They do radiate a faint magical aura. It’s hard to tell what the filling is - something sweet and pasty and brown - and the magical aura is faint and might be associated with more than one school of magic.
As for what to expect at the festival, you see in the town square some sort of wooden crane sort of contraption, and hanging from it, about twenty feet up into the air, is the wood and kindling orb you all helped build the day before.
The day is gloomy, as always, but it’s also a bit more rainy than usual.
The festival is due to start in about an hour, though nobody has started gathering yet. I’ll wind the clock forward to the event tomorrow.
Starting at about 11:40, the square grows almost suddenly from nearly-empty to crowded. The festival begins with the arrival of the "parade."
Under threatening skies, a parade of unhappy children dressed as flowers trudges through the muddy streets, leading the way for a group of sorry-looking men and women carrying the ten-foot-diameter wicker ball. The burgomaster and his smiling wife, who holds a sad bouquet of wilting flowers, follow the procession on horseback. As some weary spectators watch from their stoops, the ball is borne to the town square. There, it is hoisted and hung from the fifteen-foot-high wooden scaffold, and townsfolk take turns splashing it with oil. Before the wicker sun can be set ablaze, the sky tears open in a sudden downpour. All will be well! cries the burgomaster as he brandishes a sputtering torch and marches defiantly through the rain toward the wicker ball, only to have his torch go out as he thrusts it into the sphere.
A singular laugh erupts from the crowd, drawing the burgomaster’s fiery gaze as well as gasps from the townsfolk. You all turn to the source of the laughter, and realize that everyone is staring at one of the town guards. Arrest that man! shouts the burgomaster. You realize he is shouting at one of the commanders in the guard, and you recognize her: Nadalnta, who supervised the detachment that arrested Fope. She hesitates, in this moment, and then signals to several other guards to approach the - now quivering - guard who laughed.
The gathered crowd is murmuring, and tension is rising.
Starting at about 11:40, the square grows almost suddenly from nearly-empty to crowded. The festival begins with the arrival of the "parade."
Under threatening skies, a parade of unhappy children dressed as flowers trudges through the muddy streets, leading the way for a group of sorry-looking men and women carrying the ten-foot-diameter wicker ball. The burgomaster and his smiling wife, who holds a sad bouquet of wilting flowers, follow the procession on horseback. As some weary spectators watch from their stoops, the ball is borne to the town square. There, it is hoisted and hung from the fifteen-foot-high wooden scaffold, and townsfolk take turns splashing it with oil. Before the wicker sun can be set ablaze, the sky tears open in a sudden downpour. All will be well! cries the burgomaster as he brandishes a sputtering torch and marches defiantly through the rain toward the wicker ball, only to have his torch go out as he thrusts it into the sphere.
A singular laugh erupts from the crowd, drawing the burgomaster’s fiery gaze as well as gasps from the townsfolk. You all turn to the source of the laughter, and realize that everyone is staring at one of the town guards. Arrest that man! shouts the burgomaster. You realize he is shouting at one of the commanders in the guard, and you recognize her: Nadalnta, who supervised the detachment that arrested Fope. She hesitates, in this moment, and then signals to several other guards to approach the - now quivering - guard who laughed.
The gathered crowd is murmuring, and tension is rising.
How do you respond? Feel free to chat among yourselves, in character or out of it.
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Barnaby will go up to the bar where he will climb up and stand on a stool in order to get the bartender's attention. Um...excuse me, waving his staff about. Please could I get my flask here filled with your most middling of whiskeys? Seems a busy night...or is it always like this? The Wachter brothers there, what's their story? Do they just come in here and yuk it up with the crowd, or do they have a favorite topic? Barnaby slides a couple extra gold pieces over along with his payment for the whiskey.
If the gold is not enough and you want a persuasion roll as well, Barnaby will use his portent roll of 15 for a total of 16. (If the roll wasn't needed, I'll keep it :) )
We just have the wine, little friend. Just the wine. But thanks to you and your friends, we have plenty of it.
The brothers? They're ok. Harmless. Maybe brainless. I'm not sure who that lot is talking to them; normally they just sit there and drink alone. Maybe staying out of their mother's way. He shrugs.
I'll keep that persuasion roll, TYVM. It made a difference.
Kif nods to the wolf hunters
Nice to meet you
Yes, indeed, ( he leans in a little closer to make sure the hunters hear but others don't) we returned just today after securing some wine for the town from a way's up the road. Not sure I've had wolf meat, but we certainly had a couple run-ins with some ...ummm...wolf-like creatures. First time they looked like a blend of man and wolf, second time more like wolves. Both time we gave then a drubbing and they fled with tails between their legs. Ever encounter that type of wolf, my friends
They look at each other. By the crossroads? Yes, they watch the roads. You were lucky to escape with your lives. And none of you were . . . bitten? The hunters exchange a knowing look. You describe the encounter to their satisfaction. Well, you can find us here most nights. We'll tell you how to get around, or take you ourselves, if you have the coin. They thank you for the drinks again and lose interest in talking with you further.
As I see it, your choices now are (1) talk to Rictavio, who is a storyteller staying at the tavern, (2) somehow involve yourselves in the situation with the Wachter brothers, or (3) go to bed. You can do something else if you want, of course.
Rictavio, my friend, can I buy you a drink
How is your business going in this somewhat grim town?
It's been a long day. At this point Barnaby is in his cups, eyes half closed, sliding down in his chair, trying to pay attention to what Kif is saying to the nice story teller. Chubs has fallen asleep/passed out with his face on the table.
Ok, sure thing. Kif swaps some stories with Rictavio - who is widely traveled, and an entertaining storyteller - as the rest of the party heads upstairs. Try as Kif might, he doesn't detect anything from Rictavio other than a desire to share stories while he stays at the inn. He does casually mention that he used to have a pet monkey, but he gave the pet to Blinsky, because Blinsky seemed to need a companion more than he did.
The night passes without incident. Take your long rest. Anything you wish to do before the festival? So far, your regular morning routine has involved going to get pastries. Which you do not have to do this morning, because you've kicked that habit, but you could check that out if you want. Or you could kill time until the festival, or you could do some other thing.
Barnaby will go buy a pastry. These are delicious! Is it your own recipe?
Naomi, fresh and perky as a daisy, greets you when you get to the front of the line. You ask about the recipe, and she hesitates slightly. It's our grandmother's secret recipe, Mister Barnaby! She prepares a pastry for you. And for your friend? Or he doesn't want one this morning?
Roll an Insight check. If you roll a 15 or higher, read this:
Now that you know that something is up with the pastries, you get the feeling that she knows something is up. She is trying to tell something about you, and there is definitely a point to her inquiry about Lucento.
None for me, miss
6 Insight
Kif is just tagging along with the boys
Barnaby Insight: 4
Chubs Insight: 11
Yes, yes, one for my friend as well. We'll wrap them in these napkins though. We're in quite the rush this morning what with the festival coming and all. I'm sure we'll eat them soon, what with them being so tasty and all.
When he has the opportunity, Barnaby will cast detect magic as a ritual to see if there is anything magical about the pastries. Additionally he will poke one apart with the tip of a dagger looking and smelling for anything out of the ordinary, nature? 11. Survival or medicine would be +1 in lieu of the +6 on the nature roll.
So let's look about the town square and see if we can find out how these festivals play out, maybe they'll have a playbill or something to help us follow along
So boys, how do you think they celebrate a "festival of the Blazing Sun" in this grim and dreary land
They do radiate a faint magical aura. It’s hard to tell what the filling is - something sweet and pasty and brown - and the magical aura is faint and might be associated with more than one school of magic.
As for what to expect at the festival, you see in the town square some sort of wooden crane sort of contraption, and hanging from it, about twenty feet up into the air, is the wood and kindling orb you all helped build the day before.
The day is gloomy, as always, but it’s also a bit more rainy than usual.
The festival is due to start in about an hour, though nobody has started gathering yet. I’ll wind the clock forward to the event tomorrow.
I will wind the clock to the start of the festival tomorrow.
So Barnaby, do those pastries smell like mystical teen spirit like you though?
Kif looks closer at the wicker ball
18 perception
edit <******* hell>
Starting at about 11:40, the square grows almost suddenly from nearly-empty to crowded. The festival begins with the arrival of the "parade."
Under threatening skies, a parade of unhappy children dressed as flowers trudges through the muddy streets, leading the way for a group of sorry-looking men and women carrying the ten-foot-diameter wicker ball. The burgomaster and his smiling wife, who holds a sad bouquet of wilting flowers, follow the procession on horseback. As some weary spectators watch from their stoops, the ball is borne to the town square. There, it is hoisted and hung from the fifteen-foot-high wooden scaffold, and townsfolk take turns splashing it with oil. Before the wicker sun can be set ablaze, the sky tears open in a sudden downpour. All will be well! cries the burgomaster as he brandishes a sputtering torch and marches defiantly through the rain toward the wicker ball, only to have his torch go out as he thrusts it into the sphere.
A singular laugh erupts from the crowd, drawing the burgomaster’s fiery gaze as well as gasps from the townsfolk. You all turn to the source of the laughter, and realize that everyone is staring at one of the town guards. Arrest that man! shouts the burgomaster. You realize he is shouting at one of the commanders in the guard, and you recognize her: Nadalnta, who supervised the detachment that arrested Fope. She hesitates, in this moment, and then signals to several other guards to approach the - now quivering - guard who laughed.
The gathered crowd is murmuring, and tension is rising.
The party definitely knows enough to be suspicious of perky Naomi and her flaky, buttery, "generic" pastries. ;)
How do you respond? Feel free to chat among yourselves, in character or out of it.