Intro 1-Vastra

Dear Mother and Father,

As you have observed by now, I was not present for my graduation from the academy. I trust that you're intelligent enough to deduce that I have no intention of pursuing a career with our kingdom's defense force, something that I'm sure is of no small amount of disappointment to the two of you, considering all of the, shall we say, persuading Father did to get me a good position with them. In all honesty, that's why I've written this letter, as I was not looking forward to the prospect of you telling me how disappointed you were in me or how I was wasting my life. In truth, being a part of the defense force would have been the waste. During my decades of study, I have had access to one of the largest libraries in the world. In addition to learning about the arcane, I've also had access to the histories and other tales about the larger world.

But they were just that. Tales and histories written by and about people who actually went out and explored the rest of the world, written for those who would never wander more than a few miles from the part of it that they happened to be born at. I want to experience the world, actually be in it and not hold up some barrier that keeps the rest of the world at a comfortable distance. So, I am leaving the kingdom and going out to see the world that we have made a point to avoid getting too close to. Do not send me any messages, magical or otherwise, as I will not respond. I am heading north to Riisel, so you can spare the effort of scrying on me. I realize that I am likely disinheriting myself by taking this course of action, but I am sure that my sisters will spend the money that I have passed up wisely. Know that none of this was done out of any malice towards either of you or a perception that you were abusive towards me.

Sincerely, Vastra Melloran.

Intro 2-Kasha

'

TEN YEARS BEFORE
The town was next to the forest. Ramius, a young man, would always wake up in the morning to go get the lumber. This day would be different than all other days. He saw something in the forest. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He thought he saw a dark owl, looking at him, intently. Shaking his head, he tried to focus and look deeper. It was gone. The next day he saw  a large dark cat, closer, studying him. He stood there transfixed. Then it was gone. On the third day, he was startled greatly to see a pair of elven eyes staring at him from deep in the forest. Piercingly blue. He gazed at this humanoid, in curiosity, and with a bit of surprise. She was beautiful, almost unreal, and magical. He took a few steps forward, but she was gone. On the fourth day, he waited at the edge of the forest with food, patiently. With a soft, gentle rustle of leaves, she appeared. He made no sudden movement, only looked at the creature with curiosity, and awe. She came closer, he dared not make a sound, or a move. She looked at him with eyes of primal beauty, as if she was a part of the forest, and so much more. They shared many silent moments together, and as the summers went by, not only was the man's heart filled with the warmth of joy and love, they had a child that would share the best of both of their worlds - destined for something greater than the young lumberjack or beautiful forest elf, at the time, could have ever imagined.  

EIGHT
"One time, a huge male lion entered our village! Everyone was in a panic, someone had to get rid of it, but a young dark haired girl walked up to the lion, unafraid. Craziest thing I ever saw, I tell you! I thought for sure she was going to be attacked, or eaten! But, they seemed to be having a..mental conversation..of some sort, I tell you. After a very tense minute, the lion left the village and the young girl continued with her chalk drawings on the street as if nothing had happened! It's true! Never saw a child so brave in me life!"

FOURTEEN
"You know that new girl in school? Yeah. Wanna hear something crazy? I saw her yesterday at the beach. I know, right? She was, like, by herself. She has no friends. But I happened to see her there while I was walking home from school. She was swimming and I swear I thought I saw her talking to the fishes and skipping along the water. No, i'm not kidding, i saw it! She's such a weirdo. Come on, let's go get some candy, I took some copper out of her backpack."

NINETEEN
"Last week the carnival was in town, always a good time during the spring, I say. I heard loud cheering coming from one of the arenas. A fantastic thing, I saw! A young woman was wrestling an enormous alligator. I couldn't believe my eyes. Surely she was going to get killed! It was quite death defying, but alas, there she was, her arms around it, thrashing. It drew quite a crowd. Sweating and heaving, she wasn't a big girl at all, that's the thing, but tan, like she spent all day outside, and she was in amazingly good shape. She wrestled the reptile for hours. Made quite a lot of money in tips - I contributed as well. Never seen something so incredible and exciting! After the fight, I saw her discretely, affectionately, talking to the alligator softly near her tent - feeding it a steak."

TWENTY TWO
"Yes! You! I'd like to report a robbery! What? Yes! Listen to me! A small black cat with bright green eyes stole my jewelry! Yes! A cat! No, i'm not daft, man, how dare you! Listen to me - I know, I know, it sounds silly but It's been the fourth time this week!! And, it's the same cat!"

TWENTY FOUR
"Look at this. You should have seen the young woman who works at the shop. Do you see this cane? I know, it's so very intricate in it's design, look at it closely. Yes. But, what's more amazing is the half elf who made it. I saw her working today when I picked up the cane at the shop. It's like she was..shaping the wood with her very hands, and she wasn't even touching it. The wood..it simply..listened to her unspoken commands. What? No, I haven't been drinking, why?"

Intro 3- Furlong J. Rosewood

Furlong grew up in a house of modest means, born to blue collar parents in a rural farming village. He spent most of his youth working his father's mill--hard work, long hours--and it taught him both discipline and toned his physique. By age 18, he was a bastion to his town, taking on odd jobs for all who needed them--moving heavy furniture, delivering groceries, tilling soil--all done swiftly, efficiently, and with a courteous smile.

At age 20, destruction came to his small village as it was raided an then razed by gnolls. His family survived, but Furlong felt helpless--he had spent his whole life doing nothing other than help the people of this village, but when the time came that they were truly in need, he was powerless. So with a heavy heart, he bid farewell to his family, and moved to the nearest city to join the city guard. 

His disciplined nature made him a well liked and reliable guard. And so at age 25, he was recruited to join the region's armed forces. For the next 20 years, he served protecting the region. He received formal combat training, though found his discipline, focus, and clarity of mind made him far more skilled in hand-to-hand combat than wielding heavy weapons and armor. Given this aptitude, he was selected for an elite subgroup within the armed forces--special agents who trained more in precision campaigns, subterfuge, and acting with speed, than open warfare. Some were selected due to their stealth--others, their intelligence--others, their skills as a sniper. Furlong fell into the roll of a swift enforcer--someone who could eliminate threats quickly and silently. Overtime, he developed the ability to channel his focus into Ki energy, a power that let him strike with more precision, taking advantage of opponents weak points to extract information or down them quicker. He trained in this ability with higher ranking monks within his regiment.

Towards the end of his time with the armed forces, he was part of a mission to thwart an attempted raid on a local noble family by agents of a competing nation. During the mission, he got the jump on some would-be assassins and saved the life of the young patriarch of the family--a man by the name of Tristan Diamant. The noble thanked Furlong immensely, and promised him gainful employment should he ever leave the military. And just such an opportunity presented itself shortly after Furlong's 45th birthday, when an injury to his left knee left him immobile for a few months. He felt he was aging out of such specialized espionage, and decided to take the noble up on his offer.

From age 45 to 57, Furlong worked for the noble family as a butler and head of household. He managed the family's staff and saw to their every need, from house care to arranging social engagements to childcare. His long history of hard work made the job a perfect fit--in fact, he hadn't been this happy helping people since his days back in his old village. He became particularly fond of Stella, who was only a year old when he joined the family, and who he helped raise and watched grow up into a bright precocious teenager. He loved the girl, and consider her a surrogate daughter whom he would protect with every fiber of his being.

That is, until the family's skeletons came pouring out of their closet. It seemed their wealth was ill-gotten, and that the patriarch was nothing more than a conman. In fact, the purported raid that Furlong helped thwart was not being orchestrated by a competing nation, but a competing criminal enterprise! With the parents arrested and Stella sent into foster care, Furlong found himself unemployed again, and for five years, knocked around doing whatever work he could find--mostly manual labor, some light criminal activity, and a decent amount of extra coins earned in the fighting pits at the local tavern.

Then, at age 62, Furlong got word that Stella had been arrested. He bailed her out, and she explained her desire to escape her family's reputation and their wrongdoings, wanting to make a new name for herself. Furlong understood, but demanded he travel with her to make sure she was safe. They soon found work with an adventuring company attempting to be of service around the region, and have been traveling with these adventurers ever since.

Intro 4- Stella Diamant

Intro 5-Rinn Rua

For decades, Rinn Rua followed in the footsteps of his forefathers, fighting alongside his ilk in the Elvish mercenary group, Silent Rain. Trained in battle with a thirst for action, Rinn was a natural on the battlefield, devoting his life to the cause of his people. When the group's services were obtained to infiltrate and disperse what had been described to them as an invading horde, Rinn encountered a battle that tested his faith. Those who had hired the Silent Rain did so under false pretenses, leading Rinn's company to slaughter countless innocents for political gain. Worse yet, it appeared some in leadership positions of Silent Rain had not only sanctioned the action, but appeared to gain influence from it.

Disheartened, Rinn left behind all that he knew, setting out to redeem himself -- both in battle and in spirit. His departure was not unnoticed, and what had once been a long forgotten tenet was re-instituted and invoked: All betrayers of the cause are to be hunted and returned to stand for their treachery— dead or alive.

A deserter from the renown mercenary group, Rinn knows his mettle will once again be tested if those he abandoned learn of his whereabouts. For now, he wanders, having surrounded himself with a new group -- a motley crew of adventurers he has come to begrudgingly trust.

A second quick glance behind them confirmed what Rinn Rua feared. The group was being followed. The others didn’t seem to notice — well, perhaps the old monk…he always seemed a bit more perceptive than he let on. Either way, it didn’t matter. Rinn could tell from the way their pursuer followed who — or at least what — they were: Silent Rain.

As the others pushed on, moving into a merchant’s shop so that the wizard Vastra could gather some components, Rinn slipped into the nearby alley way before breaking into a sprint that would lead him around the buildings and back behind their pursuer.

“Pfft. They send a novice to do their dirty work. Do they truly think so little of me?” the elf thinks to himself, easily moving up behind the pursuing mercenary. An elf for sure, his target benefited from the grace of his ancestors, but barely. Dogged, deliberate and single-minded, the figure hadn’t even noticed Rinn had split off from the party. Instead, they continued forward, moving closer to the shop as if to peer through a window and find their mark. In his day with the Rain, Rinn would have quickly berated this novice, making an example of them in hopes of later saving their lives. For now, though, a lesson of a different sort would be administered — and a message sent to those who sent the mercenary.

In a blur of movement, Rinn grabbed the young elf by his shoulders, roughly shoving him to the alleyway that he had previously used. As the mercenary stumbled forward, Rinn’s boot shot out, a firm kick to the buttocks to send the elf sprawling into the refuse boxes. Lightning quick, Rinn was upon them, a sword in each hand with one blade precariously close to his target’s throat. Using the other, he flipped back his pursuer’s hood, chuckling as he saw who it was.

“Talas,” he says menacingly, noting the fear in the young man’s eyes. “Your father think so little of me that he sends you to find me? Or perhaps, he thinks so little of you that he doesn’t mind if you perish on a fool’s errand. What do you think?”

The young elf’s eyes widen, a combination of fear and embarrassment mixed with just a bit of outrage.

“No matter. I’ll not sully my blades with your pathetic blood,” Rinn says, leaning in closer to glare at the mercenary. “Tell dear ol’ dad, I’m not coming back. And the next fool he sends for me won’t be either.”

Before the mercenary can protest, the hilts of both Rinn’s shortswords crash into his temples and darkness over takes him as he slumps unconscious. Looking about, Rinn kicks a discarded wine bottle towards Talas before exiting the alleyway in time to rejoin the others as they leave the shop.

Looking up, Stella raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Needed a piss,” Rinn quips. “I wouldn’t go down there, though. I think someone shat out something worse.”

Yvan chuckles heartily as Rinn smiles, slapping the goliath’s shoulder.

“Anyone up for drinks? I hear there’s an amazing tavern the next town over.”

Intro 6-Alys

Intro 7-Yvan

Yvan hails from the Goliath tribe of Matake. As a child, Yvan had shown much interest in the arts, such as wood carving and painting, and showed little interest in hunting and fighting. Being born as the chieftains eldest son, however, he would need to learn how to lead his tribe in his father's passing, which included all the things he did not enjoy doing. Despite the protests, his father would force him to train, had him learn how to fight, how to hunt, and how to lead a tribe. His father would show great frustration in his sons defiance as he grew older, and at one point he forced Yvan in a ring with their tribes champion fighter, and made them fight to the death.

It was hard to believe that a father would do this to his son, but during the battle, it was clear his father's words were true. Yvan needed to kill him in order to continue living. The fight was difficult and taxing, but he had been fueling each strike to his opponent with hatred and anger of his father, and finally, when he reigned supreme, his father could say he was proud of his son.

With him as the new champion, he was given the nickname Bonecrusher, and was expected to fight multiple other opponents in the ring moving forward. Yvan had done this for a time, unhappy, angry, with a wanting of escaping this hell he was forced into, and one day he had planned to do so. In the cold dead of night, Yvan had ran away.

Yvan had managed to survive a few days, making his way down the mountain as his plan was to visit a town, then keep moving as he expected his father to send out people to search for him. He hoped that they would give up their hunt, but his father was bullheaded, so he kept moving, even if he struggled in doing so. He used his knowledge of hunting to sustain himself, but as the days went on, the game dwindled, and for a man his size, he needed more than just a snow hare to keep going. He exerted his body too much, forced himself to keep walking, that he would make it down the mountain faster if he didn't rest as he could rest once he made it to the village.

He would collapse in the snow with that thought in mind, and yet he woke up somewhere he didn't expect.

When his eyes opened, he was surrounded by greenery; trees stood tall and strong around him with their vines hung low, the grass was soft against his calloused scarred hands, and there was a prominent scent of flowers blooming nearby. However, he started hearing voices, tiny whispers, then he saw the source. Small pixies had gathered around him, hiding behind the flowers, poking their heads out in interest at the knew body who showed up seemingly out of nowhere. It took time for them to approach him, but when they did they were able to tell him where exactly he was; The Feywilds.

Yvan knew very little of the Fey and the Feywilds, his knowledge just being that most of them were mischievous spirits, and he wasn't sure if this was a prank on him or not. Despite their nature, the pixies had grown fond of this gentle giant, and opted to help him journey back to his realm as they taught him about their home and of their language. At one point he wondered if he could possibly stay here, but the pixies urged him to go back to his plane, and that despite them being away, they would be able to help him on his journey onward.

When his eyes fluttered open for the second time, he was in a warm bed, a fire burning in the middle of the cave he found himself in and nothing else.

After what felt like ages, Yvan had eventually found himself on solid ground, noting that the trek was not as hard as it was before. He made way to the village, and planned his next move. He travelled for months, going from town to town, doing little jobs here and there, until he met this group of people he would consider his friends. With a steady job and a roof above his head, Yvan could not complain.

Intro 8-Bixby

Once a simple youth living in a frontier town, a mistake in seeking solitude beyond the borders of home led to his capture. Awakening elsewhere, the youth pleaded with its captor, the storm giant Tozdor, the pleas fell on deaf ears. For the sake of undoing a malady inflicted during a far realm encounter in the distant past, Tozdor needed subjects for experiments. And the youth, much like a few others at the tower, fit the criteria. Though not overtly cruel, neither did he always show restraint when it came to the experiments. From strange concoctions to magical arrays -- it seemed every day there was something else. Days became weeks, weeks became months, and then beyond that point, any hope of going home. As his body began to warp, and the memories of home became fuzzy and distorted, the yearnings faded away.

In time they stopped almost altogether for some of the subjects. What happened to some, he never pried or learned, though for a kobold and he at least, the two would carry on as something between apprentices and servants. Why this change of status in particular, again, he never asked, or came to fully understand when inevitable given hints. He eventually came to understand that,whatever had been done to him left the once half-orc turned crocodile mouthed changeling and his grey scaled kobold brother, left a hunger for knowledge. Not just reading about it, but expressing and physically experiencing what he learned to certain extents.

Then the day came in which Tozdor... let them go. Confused and even fearful, the former youth pleaded to stay, angering the giant into the casting of a spell. The world went dark....

Some time later, and in a land far different than any either changeling or former youth once knew, he awoke in a tavern in the middle of what appeared to be a negotation between several people about creating some sort of mercenary band. Although uncertain of how he came to be there, and leery of asking these strange yet somehow familiar folk about him, he smiled, seeing the event as another one of Tozdor's tests. And by perhaps working with this band, he would uncover the answer, and be whisked away back to the tower. Even after a year had passed, and at least his transformative abilities came to light -- he, having tried to play an impersonator prank on one two many party members in quick succession -- 'Bixby' continued to play the part of eager to help young member of the group, and put fill their spirits with inspiring pep talks!

No matter how much evidence began to pile up on a return home ever coming....

You have all been travelling to Cerellia for the Festival of Life, a summer celebration that is renowned for being the event of the year for as long as anyone can remember. Everybody across Riisel travels to Cerellia for the Festival, or at least everybody that’s anybody and has the means to afford it. And this year, you are some of those anybodies, as your adventuring company has won enough gold and renown in Greenway, the village you were operating out of, to purchase a horse and wagon to make the trip to Cerellia, reservations for all of you in the Golden Draught, one of the more reputable inns in the city, and have plenty of spending money left over afterwards. None of you have been to a city before, or at least not one as big or as opulent as Cerellia is. The buildings here are much larger than the ones in Greenway, as even the richest person in the village wouldn’t be able to boast about living in a house that’s as large or as well-decorated as the ones here.

As you pass through the city gates, you hear the priests calling out, reminding the revelers about how the festival is a celebration of the victory of the Gods of Light over the Gods of Darkness in an ancient battle that determined the fate of the world. You see priests representing the faiths of many of the accepted gods: Bahamut, Eldath, Erathis, Helm, Ilmater, Kelemvor, Kord, Lathander, Mielikki, Moradin, Mystra, Oghma, Pelor, Sarenrae, Sehanine Moonbow, Selune, Sune, Torm, and Tyr.

 From the scents wafting about, you can tell that there are vendors from far and wide selling foods, perfumes, and other products that you would not normally encounter back at the village. And from some of the less savory scents wafting about, you can tell that there are plenty of animals here as well and that even exotic creatures from the far reaches of the kingdom smell foul when it’s time to take care of business.

And of course, there are plenty of attractions! Vendors selling various foods, clothes, jewelry, and other souvenirs. Entertainers of all kinds; clowns, musicians, dancers, contortionists, magicians, sword-swallowers, courtesans, as well as wrestlers, martial-artists, and duelists from all around, beckoning able-bodied attendees to test their might by challenging them in the ring for a gold prize.

 But what really captures your attention is how many people are here. You’ve never seen so many people in one place before! There’s humans, elves, half-elves, tieflings, halfings, aasimars, gnomes, dwarves, half-orcs, and just about every other race that you can think of here for the festival.

Before you all begin to engage in the reverie, Vastra speaks up. “All right, everyone, here it is, the thing we spent the last year working towards, the biggest event of the year! Let’s go have fun, spend some of that coin we’ve been saving up, eat some food, have some good drinks, maybe get some quality wine, maybe buy some clothing. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find some nobleman who needs our services here.” Her eyes gleam at the prospect of obtaining goods that she isn’t able to purchase in Greenway and in her excitement, she almost forgets to address the next area of business. “And try to behave: Don’t get into any fights, or if you must, at least make sure that you can win said fight, because if I have to hire a Cleric to bring you back, you’re paying for it.”  Vastra is a High-Elf. She has short black hair with hazel eyes. Vastra is not a native Riiselian, she hails from the Elven kingdom of Symbelyne and her clothing betrays this, with her wearing a blue tunic and a red cape with intricate designs. However, despite her fancy appearance, Vastra isn’t any richer than the rest of you, something that she clarified when she met you all in Greenway. At 175, Vastra is easily the oldest member of the party, although by the standards of Elves, she isn’t even middle-aged, and she looks to be the same age as the rest of you, except for Furlong. Vastra hasn’t had a difficult time fitting in with the rest of you, proving to be a valuable ally with her magic and showing that she can drink with the rest of you. Even if she does occasionally complain about not being able to get the wine she likes.

Things that you can do during the festival:

• Go shopping: There are vendors from all over Riisel here tonight and you all have enough money to purchase just about anything you can think of (Mechanically speaking, you can purchase whatever food/clothing/books/drugs/alcohol/etc your character might want, items from the Equipment section of the PHB, one uncommon item)
• Go watch some performers: There’s no shortage of entertainers here with artists, singers, dancers, sword-swallowers, fire-breathers, magicians, gymnasts, and contortionists. Watch one and possibly get pulled into the show!
• Mingle with the crowd: Seemingly everyone from Riisel is here, and it’s a perfect time to meet someone new. Maybe you might get lucky tonight. Or you might get into a fight. Or both.
• Accept a challenge: There are plenty of champions here that are offering a gold reward to whoever can defeat them in a one-on-one duel tonight. The most notable offers are coming from the Half-Orc wrestler Janira, the Human knight Sir Connor, and the Tiefling martial-artist Vanity. Each of them is offering a purse of 150 gold for besting them.
• Try and find work: There’s plenty of people here with money, surely someone could use the help of Misfit Company.

Rinn surveys the swarm of people, the mix of faces and races with a sweeping glance. "If there is somewhere here looking for me, it'll be a bit harder for either of us to know," he thinks to himself, turning to the others. "When possible, I'd like to find an armory, preferably Elven or perhaps Dwarvish."

As they mill about, the elf surveys the surroundings, hoping to catch sight of such an armory.

Perception: 4

Stella gives a delighted sigh at the celebrations around them. "This is wonderful. I've been looking forward to this all year!"

Stella's fine features and white hair give away her aristocratic background, although she's never actually said anything about her parents, other than brief references to them as the people who taught her to ride, or other such brief snippets. The young woman's pale blue eyes and light skin make it easy for her to affect a cold demeanor when she's arguing with or intimidating someone, but most of the time, Stella is full of warmth and smiles...and perhaps a little flirting. And of course, she has her small black cat, Obsidian, who with his fiery blue ear and tail tips is undoubtedly fey, and extremely curious about his surroundings.

Stella gives Rinn a sparkling smile. "I'll help you find an armory if you buy me lunch," she says with a wink.

Obsidian, claws sunk deep into Stella's leather shoulder pad to stay on, is watching a fish stall with undivided attention.

Kasha took in all the sights and smiled with a mischievous grin - looking around at all the sights while staying with the group. She turned her head, inhaled loudly, and puffed out with a loud AAAH.

"Oh man, that smells delicious. Whatever it is. It's like..sugar. And.." she sniffed twice, loudly. "..more sugar. Oh! and fried. No, wait. Yes! Like..fried dough."

Her near drooling experience was distracted by seeing the entertainers of various types, especially the dancers and gymnasts.

"AU!" she barked, pointing to them. "Look at that!" she said, tugging on Yvan's clothes, "I'm gonna go check em out!"  Briskly walking towards them,  she watched the entertainers much intent, clapping to the music, bouncing on her toes, and trying to mimic them as best she could.

Kasha was about 24 years old. She was a beautiful mixture of human and elf, and had long brown hair with piercing green eyes that glimmered in a magical way. She always smelled like nature in some shape or form, and most of the time looked like she rolled around in a leaf pile. She was slender, athletic, lithe, graceful, and very tan - as if most of her life was spent outdoors. Over the year we've been together, she's mischievous, playful, goodhearted, enjoys the team's company, and transforms into various animals when the time calls for it. She has a childlike wonder about lots of things she's seen over the year, as if she grew up among two different species. 

The thin but muscled elf gathers his shoulder length auburn hair into a topknot, offering a smile Stella’s way. He’s dressed in dark brown and green leathers with a pair of short swords crisscrossing with sheaths on his back. At his hips hang two well-notched hand axes. As they stride through town, he slings his bow over his shoulder. 

“Perhaps, dear Stella,” he says, shooting a sidelong glance and wink at her persistent and ever present shadow—the Butler. “I can think of no better or more enjoyable use for my spare coin.”

"I think you've earned at least a lunch at this point my dear. Just wish you'd pick a higher class of individual to join you." Furlong smirks and winks right back at Rinn. As the two head off to find a bite, Furlong will grab Rinn by the underarm and pull him in close and whispers to him. "If anything happens to her in my absence, you'll have far more to worry about than whoever it is that was following you during our last stop." He gives Rinn a stern, unwavering stare as he tightens his grip a bit, then releases. Then louder to them both and with a smile. "Well alright then, kids, have a pleasant afternoon!"

Furlong will then chit chat with some of the locals about the three champions trying to suss out if any are work challenging. He will also seek out some spices, hearty veggies, and cured meats--things he can cook on the road that won't spoil too quickly, as well as cooking tools.

Rinn: There's no shortage of blacksmiths here at the festival trying to sell their wares here, so finding one is an easy task and you're also able to find a Dwarven smith. "Greetings and welcome to Gunnar's Gauntlets! Here, I've got everything that you might need; swords, axes, hammers, shields, helmets, breastplates, armored codpieces, and of course gauntlets!" He motions towards a set of gauntlets with a Dwarven rune inscribed in them. You can't for sure tell what the rune represents.

Stella: As you flirt with Rinn, you see the same smithy that he sees. The owner of the stall with the fish that Obsidian looks at turns to you. "Your cat appears quite interested in my wares, miss. Would you be interested in purchasing one?"

Kasha and Yvan: The two of you find some entertainers performing for a large crowd. There's a very jovial band playing some fast-paced percussion instruments with several dancers accompanying them. The dancers spot several audience members who are dancing along and really getting into it and they invite them in to join the performance. One of the dancers, a Fire Genasi, finds the two of you and pulls Kasha in as well. He looks up to you, Yvan, and extends his free arm. "Tell me, my large friend, can you dance?" 

Furlong: You let Stella and Rinn depart after giving him the dad talk while cleaning off your figurative shotgun (whatever that is). You're very easily able to find the foods you're looking for and it doesn't cost you too much, as it's fairly simple food compared to some of the things that are being sold at the festival. (4gp). Make three History checks, one for each champion.

The wrestler: 22

The knight: 7

The martial artist: 11

For the wrestler: You're able to learn that Janira's father was an Orc from the Outer Wastes who came to this country shortly before she was born, which is odd, as the Orcs of the Outer Wastes are notoriously xenophobic and don't leave their lands, except to come over and do some quick border raids, which makes it all the more odd that he decided to come over and raise a daughter that's half-human. You learned that she had a bit of a tough upbringing as the result of being discriminated against because of where her father came from, something that she credits now for teaching her how to take a punch. You learn that she was found by a recruiter who saw the way that she tossed someone over a table during a bar-room brawl and thought that he might have something. He was right, as she quickly became a fan-favorite wrestler who was able to win plenty of fights due to her strength and unusual endurance, as well as winning plenty of admirers with her exotic beauty. You also find out that her signature move is to toss opponents out of the ring, something that always drives the crowd wild.

For the knight: The only information that you're able to get about Sir Connor is some fangirls squeeing about how hot he is.

For the martial artist: You know that as some Tieflings do, Vanity took a virtue and made it into his name. And boy does he embody it, as his fans will tell you about his natural swagger, while his detractors will tell you that he's an arrogant prick. Neither of them give you too much information about him as a fighter or what his background is like.

From a first glance Alys may be able to fool an untrained eye, but when inspected a little more closely, you could tell her human appearance is just a facade. She spent most of her early years training as an archeologist under human professors. Due to their short lifespans compared to her own, she found their passion and desire to learn and achieve so much in a short period of time, inspiring. This is why she enjoyed learning from them. Naturally after spending over a decade with them, she's picked up their style of dress and mannerisms, avoiding scholars robes at all cost.

Alys most often than not kept her blond hair tied up in a messy bun. She sported glasses and dark leathers that were usually dusty or dirty from digging. For a petite elf standing 5'3.5" tall, she was surprisingly lean and could carry more than her own weight. Being a bit of a pack rat, she carries a satchel, packs, pouches and straps galore to be prepared with all of her equipment. A tiny disheveled looking owl sits perched on her shoulder with a blank wide-eyed stare that doesn't seem to waver.

Alys would end up trailing a little behind the group as usual, as she takes in the first few moments of entering the city. Kasha's energy was infectious and Alys couldn't help but feel it build up inside her. Her blue eyes were wide, scanning the stalls, trying to keep up with everything Kasha was pointing out with such excitement. She'd catch herself going up on her toes too, huffing the air trying to look for the same smells, most likely not near the same accuracy as the druid, but it made her mouth salivate all the same.

Alys would pull out her pen and journal, "I do have a bit of a shopping list. I could some some components and maybe a shield." She'd do a quick review of her list before getting distracted by some entertainers. Contortionists intrigued her. Alys would study their bodies with her eyes before flipping her journal to a blank page to begin sketching. She'd adjust her glasses with a smirk. "Although, I'm sure I could learn a thing or two from the entertainers as well." 

"Furlong, be nice to Rinn!" Stella laughs as Furlong pulls Rinn aside for one of his typical "friendly talks". As they're talking, she smiles at the fish vendor. "It does indeed look like Obsidian is interested...I'll take a small fish. No point in giving him a lunch that outweighs him."

After getting Obsidian some lunch of his own, Stella heads for the blacksmith's with Rinn, casting a thoughtful eye over the various metal wares available herself, running through her current weapons and considering if any of them need replacing.

Rinn smiles at Gunnar. “Well, a good cod piece is always a find, but I’m hoping for something a bit more specific. Might ye have any Mithril chain?” He asks, his eyes straying on the rune-inscribed gauntlets. “And tell me of those fine mittens you got there.”