Day 2, Afternoon:
You’ve taken to the celebration like a fish to water. Who cares the overriding theme is to thank Pelor? You’re as happy as a pig in shit. Not even the pummeling you took at the hands of the warlock could dampen your enthusiasm!
At first is seemed ironic that, as the group’s most adherent of Avandra, you should suffer the worst luck. Shut-The-Box? Lost. Farkle? Lost. Freeze Out? Lost. Need I go on..? Alas, she smiles on you yet, steering you down the wrong street and right into the lap of a merchant selling swords, a rapier among them. You may not be an expert when it comes to weaponsmithing, but you recognize quality when you see it, and upon hearing the price, you couldn’t get the gold out of your pocket fast enough.
You spent the next hour looking for Kai to show off your new weapon. Unsuccessful, you instead found yourself compelled to seek the Lady Kaal and make a proper introduction. As luck would have it, thanks to Avandra, you met up with Alton, the old man you met that morning gambling with dice and were pleasantly surprised to discover he was headed to the very same place.
He was on an errand for his boss, Rilnor Pane, owner of the Laughing Manticore, but he laughed when he heard your intention, “One doesn’t simply walk up and introduce themself to the Lady. She doesn’t work like that son. You wanna meet her, come on down to the Laughing Manticore tonight. She’ll be there when the show let’s out of Velorian’s. I guarantee it.” He eyeballed you from head to toe before adding, “May want to pick up a new set of threads. If there’s one thing Kaal likes, it’s a well-dressed man.”
You also learned she’s always accompanied by a group of bodyguards, rarely less than six. Alton didn’t even bat an eye when you asked how to recognize them. “Stern group. Always wearing cloaks. Helps to hide their armaments.” “Armaments?” you asked. “Oh yeah. Enough shortswords and daggers to start a business with. And finish it too, if you know what I mean.”
Day 2, Evening:
Parting ways with Alton you head back to the keep, thinking to take a rest before the night’s festivities begin in earnest. It didn’t take long to abandon that idea. Grabbing Nine, who’s boredom proved contagious, you make your way to the market square where you last saw Kai and Terik. By this time, sunset was fast approaching and the streets were filled with people making their way south to the city’s central hill in small groups. You scan their faces hoping to spot someone you know, but have no success. You’re pretty sure you saw Wotan and Lorelei outside of Velorian’s, but there was a gate separating you and it looked expensive to enter. Besides, Nine wasn’t so sure, and the Wotan look-alike didn’t respond to your enthusiastic hails.
You arrive at the square to find it mostly empty. Fearing you’re missing a party, you stand there confused, watching as the few remaining merchants stow their wares and close their stalls.
“Hey Vistanni!” A familiar voice beckons you from the north. Turning, you see three figures dressed in the Vistanni style leaning against the eastern bridge, their loose shirts rippling in the soft breeze. They’re smiling and waving for you to join them and you can’t help but notice the tallest one, Lucca, has bright red hair. “That’s awesome,” you think to yourself as you hurry to join them.
“Ya in ta this Pelor thing?” Luca asks.
“What Pelor thing,” you retort.
“Thar’s a no,” one of the others says.
Luca puts his arm around you. “Ain’t you noticed da empty streets? All these yahoos climb da hill an watch da sunset. It’s absurd. I mean, I like sunsets as much as da next guy, specially if I’ve a girl under me arm”
“Or two!” one of the others adds.
“Right ya are there Yanco!” Luca confirms before continuing “Anyways. Too damned churchy fer us. Burnin’ incense and singin’ songs. Yuck. We’re headin’ cross da river. Good ole fashion Vistanni bonfire o’er there. Why don’t cha come with?” It’s all the invitation you need.
You cross the bridge, passing the newly erected guardhouse at the end. “Bastards are chargin’ us a silver ta cross da bridge,” Luca informs you. It’s disappointing news, but you’re not surprised. The Vistanni have always had a strained relationship with the Vale’s established towns. You don’t have time to dwell on it though. Immediately upon crossing the checkpoint, you turn left on an established track that cuts through the wall of pines flanking the road. Once past the trees, it opens onto a gently sloped, low-topped hillock between the two roads leading to Brindol’s bridges. The place is alive with activity. Colorful tents have been pitched randomly, many of which sport pennants advertising the family they belong to. Fires burn everywhere and the smell of roasting meat and freshly baked pie kick starts your stomach making your mouth water. Before you know it, you have an earthen jug of someone’s home brew in hand and are sitting atop a log at the crest of the hill. Bonfires burn brightly and the air is filled with music as young people dance about the oak tree in the plateau’s center. Your smile broadens as Nuri, Luca’s sister, braids your dreadlocks, dying some bright red. Nine receives similar treatment, sporting an intoxicating pattern of swirls and dashes.
Unfortunately, none of your family can be counted among the celebrants. You learn from Yoska, the old man playing a mean fiddle, that Lilly’s group is camped at Drellin’s Ferry, about 120 miles downriver. You feel a sudden longing to be with them, but take solace in knowing they’re most assuredly enjoying their own party…
Day 2, Night:
“You seen one a these?” Luca asks, offering a circular wooden object. You take it, unexpectedly surprised by its heaviness.
“Ironwood?” you ask.
“Yat,” Luca confirms. “Wanna some?” he asks, holding forth an open pouch of long leaf tobacco.
“Nah. Not yet.”
He shrugs, pulling a wad from the pouch and stuffing his mouth with it. “So whatta ya think?”
You turn your attention back to the ring. It’s a hollowed circle twelve inches in diameter. The wood is two inches wide, thick towards the hollow, but tapering toward the outer edge where it’s been fitted with razor sharp metal. There’s really only one place to hold it without slicing yourself wide open, a handle of sorts, molded to fit your fingers and thumb where they would wrap around the edge.
“Interesting,” you comment. “It’s for throwing?”
“Aye! Try it,” he encourages.
You shrug and rise to your feet.
“Wait, wait!” he warns. “Lemme clear a path. Don’t wanna anyone a getting’ ert.”
He manages to stop the revelry and clear the area around the oak tree, creating a corridor of living flesh as people stand around watching with mild curiosity. To say it’s nerve wracking would be an understatement.
“You think that’s wise, them standin’ there like that?”
Lucca seems unconcerned. “They’ll be fine. Let er rip!”
You assume a comfortable throwing stance and grip the ring along the handle, holding it at arm’s length behind you. Nine stands to your left, hands on hips, watching with what you perceive to be bewildered amusement.
“Here goes,” you say. Taking two quick steps forward you swivel your hips in time with the last step and wrench your arm forward. The ring explodes from your hand with a forceful snap, racing toward the tree while spinning with astounding speed. Unfortunately… You miss.
“Oh no,” you mutter, realizing your mistake. “Look out!” you yell into the darkness beyond the oak.
In a panic, you start to take off after it, but a flash of movement to your left stops you dead in your tracks. Concentrating, you manage to spot the ring on its return flight.
Clang! It slams into Nine’s chest and falls to the ground. Your eyes go wide as you check your friend’s welfare.
“Ouch,” Nine complains, as Lucca rolls on the ground laughing.
“It returns?” you ask him, seeking clarification.
“Aye!” he spurts.
“That’s a mean trick Lucca.”
“Thought ya’d hit da damn tree Dande,” he says defensively. “Nex time we’ll practice in a barn. Ya outta be able to hit dat!” he laughs.
Calming down, he tells you it’s called a chakram. “Me uncle make ‘em. Says he picked one up off an ole druid in Hommlett. You keep dat one. Probably ruined its edge on your iron friend anyway.”
A few hours later, the incident with the chakram forgotten and a belly full of strong homemade beer, you agree with Lucca and Yanco that it would be fun to run past the guards patrolling the bridge not paying the tax of course. Yanco’s little brother, Yuri, upped the stakes by suggesting you do it in the nude. It was a challenge you couldn’t resist.
“Come on Yanco! Keep up!” you shout as you speed across the stone bridge, your heavy boots clumping loudly. You have a nice head start on the guards, which is good, considering Yanco can’t run a straight line to save his life. You’re just glad the bridge has rails or your run may have ended up a swim. Still, you don’t relish the idea of staying on the bridge exposed as you are. In more ways than one…
“Pick it up Yanco!” you try again. “Unless you wanna spend tomorrow in the stockades!”
“Aye!” Lucca adds. “Sunburnin’ your sensitive parts!”
That seems to do the trick. With a roar, Yanco accelerates, gaining and then propelling past your trio. You, Lucca, and Yuri exchange a brief look before racing to catch up, laughing mightily.
Once over the bridge, the four of you stop behind a screen of bushes to catch your breath.
“You see the look on that guard’s face?” Yuri asks.
Lucca just laughs uncontrollably.
“I saw it,” you answer. “I think he thought he was under attack,” you snicker.
“Poor bastard’ll ‘ave nightmares fer da rest a ‘is life!” Lucca manages to add.
“I don’t feel so good,” Yanco announces. “I think I’m gonna be…”
A horrid retching noise emanates from the drunk Vistanni.
“Stand back!” Yuri warns as Yanco opens his mouth.
Projectile vomit spews forth, narrowly missing you. It streams in prodigious amounts and lasts far longer than you would’ve thought possible. Eventually, Yanco rights himself and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Avandra’s tits man! Did ya drink the whole damn barrel!?!” Yuri taunts him.
Yanco just belches. “Oh. That’s so much better,” he declares. “What now?”
“Laughing Manticore?” you suggest.
“Sounds good,” they agree.
“Great,” you answer. “Where is it?”
You never did come across The Laughing Manticore, but did somehow manage to find Nine. He was wandering aimlessly, still toting the wicker basket containing your clothes, which was fortunate, considering the chill in the air. All the running seemed to do wonders for you constitution, restoring a shred of sobriety, and with it, an overwhelming weariness.
“Afraid the Manticore will have to wait till tomorrow,” you admit dejectedly. “I need to find a bed.”
“Aye,” Lucca agrees. “Probably oughta get back. Nuri’ll think we been had.”
“You comin’ with?” Yuri asks.
“Why not.”
And so you return to the Vistanni camp outside of town, this time taking the west bridge to avoid the guards you so unceremoniously tormented earlier. Entering the tent Lucca points you to, you collapse on a bed of pillows and cushions, instantly asleep and oblivious to the soft warm body already lying there…
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