Seadu stumbles over to Bertram with his pallid face in his hands, clearly nursing the beginnings of a hangover. 'Well, a bet is a bet,' he says, and tosses the victor a gold coin. 'Now, if you don't mind, I think I need another drink!' He seems to start feeling much better after the first half of another tankard is guzzled down.
1gp deducted. Congrats!
[Continued] - Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul
Re: Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul
3:20 pm
The competitions of the afternoon have wound down, and the townsfolk mill about in clusters discussing the feats they witnessed or head off to prepare for the night's remaining festivities. Zampari regales the assembled with songs of Vrosk in the west, the land of the Wild Sea where pirates descended of halflings ply the waves with powerful weather magic to aid them, plunderers and defenders of the churning sea's ancient secrets.
The children set to work arranging the effigies of Dagon about the square that will serve as dance floor, and the shopkeepers return to their businesses to prepare food and drink. Ghrym has promised that bottles of Fallutian sparkling red wine will be available, and it must be carefully tended when opened and poured. This evening promises a feast unlike any this young frontier town has yet seen.
Meanwhile, the seer's tent remains open to visitors, and the Duke is spied in the company of an individual unseen in town before: a grizzled looking man with a few days of close-cropped beard and short greasy hair laid back against his scalp over a low forehead. The man is powerfully built and the impression of his military background is enhanced by the long blade he wears belted over a suede tunic of much finer cut and style than the man himself seems to warrant. Those who has traveled widely and know of such things recognize the blade as the arms of the Eagle Knights of Corthinia, once a mercenary group that was commissioned into service as the House Guard of the Banderis Family of Corthinia, pretenders to the throne of that small island realm.
The pair are engrossed in private conversation for nearly twenty minutes before the man takes his leave of the Duke, but not before stooping to press his lips to the hand of the Duke's daughter.
there is a bit of time for anyone who wants to engage in free-form activity before the feast and dance.
The competitions of the afternoon have wound down, and the townsfolk mill about in clusters discussing the feats they witnessed or head off to prepare for the night's remaining festivities. Zampari regales the assembled with songs of Vrosk in the west, the land of the Wild Sea where pirates descended of halflings ply the waves with powerful weather magic to aid them, plunderers and defenders of the churning sea's ancient secrets.
The children set to work arranging the effigies of Dagon about the square that will serve as dance floor, and the shopkeepers return to their businesses to prepare food and drink. Ghrym has promised that bottles of Fallutian sparkling red wine will be available, and it must be carefully tended when opened and poured. This evening promises a feast unlike any this young frontier town has yet seen.
Meanwhile, the seer's tent remains open to visitors, and the Duke is spied in the company of an individual unseen in town before: a grizzled looking man with a few days of close-cropped beard and short greasy hair laid back against his scalp over a low forehead. The man is powerfully built and the impression of his military background is enhanced by the long blade he wears belted over a suede tunic of much finer cut and style than the man himself seems to warrant. Those who has traveled widely and know of such things recognize the blade as the arms of the Eagle Knights of Corthinia, once a mercenary group that was commissioned into service as the House Guard of the Banderis Family of Corthinia, pretenders to the throne of that small island realm.
The pair are engrossed in private conversation for nearly twenty minutes before the man takes his leave of the Duke, but not before stooping to press his lips to the hand of the Duke's daughter.
there is a bit of time for anyone who wants to engage in free-form activity before the feast and dance.
Re: Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul
Supping on some strong refreshment and getting his wind back, Seadu looks across to see several patrons wandering in and out of the seer's tent. To himself he says aloud, 'I suspect a good reading is due after all, being new in town,' and strides over to the tent to see what this oracle has to say.
Re: Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul
Lug, having retired to the tavern to buy drinks for his opponents in the various contests, decides he hasn't had enough competition for one day. "Who's up for darts?" he asks the assembled crowd. "And who has some darts I can borrow?"
Re: Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul
Seadu, recently recovered from his wheezing fit after the race, overhears Lug. 'Well, I doubt I'm any better at darts than I am at running, but perhaps you're worse than I am. Shall we play?'
He looks over to Ghrym Briarbeard with a raised eyebrow and an open palm, as though to ask whether the tavern keeper has any darts at the ready.
He looks over to Ghrym Briarbeard with a raised eyebrow and an open palm, as though to ask whether the tavern keeper has any darts at the ready.