Chapter 1: Welcome to Woodhaerst

[Nocturno]

After making the arrangements for the beverages Sornin will head over to the axe throwing to watch for a bit.

If he sees someone really struggling he will use a Bardic Inspiration on them.

[Chris1234]

Rowan talks silly nothing to the small blue and pink bird and moves through the sheep whilst looking at everything around him.
He's eaten ducks and rabbits before; indeed, many were kept in the temple grounds for that purpose.
He heads towards the butterfly area and, after gazing appreciatively at their flutterings for a while, moves off towards the crowds.

[Nova Lunis]

A small waif sneaks up behind Carrion while he's gazing across the crowd and slips his hand in a pocket searching for coin.

Roll passive perception please.

A young elf who looks like he's just coming into his own is struggling at the hatchet throwing yard. One hatchet flies 3 feet over the hanging wooden stump and the next one barely makes it half way there. Sornin strums out a tune and the competitor starts to subconsciously bounce his feet and tilt his shoulders in time with the music. He focuses and takes his last throw - 1d20 =16 - *THWACK* the hatchet lands square in the middle of the target. The crowd cheers and he smiles back at Sornin.

A single black butterfly attaches itself to Rowan's back un-noticed before he leaves the tent.

[Chris1234]

Rowan leaves the tent and heads into the crowd.

[Nocturno]

Satisfied with that result, Sornin will head to the animals.

He will attempt to make sure they are healthy and well taken care of.

[Forest gnomes can speak with small animals apparently]

[Lithain]

The aroma of cooking meat seems to guide my steps, as I carefully make my way through the crowd, hands on my valuables. Each stall looks better than the last to my grumbling stomach. A bowl of large chicken legs blissfully roasted to succulent perfection, and a tall tankard of golden ale soon adorning each hand; along with a grin that won't quit. Not one to say no to magical signs, I plop my large sculpted chain mailed arse down in the middle of the empty seats before the stage. Quietly mumbling multiple throaty reassurances to my food on how 'I'll take really good care you..' between each worshipful bite. '..such good care..' To me surely this food is heaven. Had I a tail.. it'd be wagging contently.

[TristenC]

[Ooc: Sorry for the long post.]

A diminutive hooded figure stepped into the meadow, dappled light dancing through the oak trees across the brown fabric. Pik breathed deep, taking in the scent of the crowd, of community, of tolerance... however tenuous and temporary it might be. He had stashed most of his heavy gear nearby where nobody could find it, leaving him feeling lightfooted with only a rapier and quiver at his hips and the shortbow slung across his back. People often reacted unpredictably around him; sometimes fearful or angry, sometimes curious. Tonight he didn't have to worry about any of that... not much, anyway. Tonight he was the lesser evil. Pik slipped back his hood to reveal a long, decidedly reptilian snout covered with tawny brown hide flecked with green and violet. The kobold sniffed the air again and headed into the meadow. It was nice not to hear screams of 'monster' or see people rushing for torches and pitchforks.

Some of the more monstrous races were present in ones and twos. He saw a few Orcs, goblins, bugbears and even his 'cousins' the dragonmen mingling among the more 'civilized' demihuman races. An inattentive member of the former group jostled him rudely, spilling some ale. Pik apologized, though it hadn't been his fault, and smoothed the orc's tunic; rambling on at him in Yipyak; the kobold dialect of Draconian. Either the brute was too drunk or didn't speak the language because all Pik got in return was a non-comital grunt and another shove before moving on. Pik wasn't upset. On the contrary, he found the encounter rather amusing as he reflected on the orc's reaction the next time he dipped into his coin purse to buy an ale. The scorpion wasn't strong enough to kill him, but it would certainly cause him to spend the next couple of days wishing he were dead. The kobold chuckled just thinking about it.

A few human children had begun begging and scavenging around the festival. One girl in particular was following him with a curious expression. He stopped and looked around casually, allowing her to approach from his blind side. He felt a tiny hand on the top of his head as she touched the fine, almost leathery scales. He turned to look at her and she jumped back with a squawk. A kind smile and a wink from him drove some of the apprehension away. He raised a clawed finger to his lips as if he were about to impart a secret. His other empty hand turned in the air, revealing itself to be empty. Suddenly, with a snap it held a silver coin! The coin vanished with another wave only to reappear in his other hand, youthful eyes growing wide with awe. Again it vanished and he searched himself surreptitiously, pretending it was lost. He nodded knowingly as he waggled a finger at the girl. Reaching forward he plucked the silver from behind her ear and presented it to her. The human child stared even more wide-eyed than she had at the sleight of hand. She snatched it and disappeared into the crowd.

With a satisfied smile Pik moved on. Peddlers had set up now and he wandered by stopping here or there to look at some bauble or trinket that caught his eye. He inspected the ropes and perused the daggers and arrows, but mostly just meandered. The scent of livestock reached him as he approached the petting zoo. He smiled petted a nanny-goat, reminiscing about the last time he'd had such a stew. He smiled at a ruddy-haired dwarf as a little pink bird lighted on its shoulder. Wandering along he stopped to buy an ale. The dark, hooded figure in line before him had a familiar way about him so Pik moved on once he had his own drink. No need to get involved in someone else's work... call it a 'professional courtesy'...

He made his way to a hatchet throwing game, and laughed good-naturedly along with the crowd as a tipsy barbarian fumbled his shot. A jaunty melody started up nearby, played by a gnome he thought he spotted through the crowd. Suddenly the young elf next to throw was doing much better. Music could lift anyone's spirits. His reptilian ears caught another tune, some ways away. He followed it with interest. Along the way he passed a richly-green-scaled Dragonborn whispering sweet nothings to his food. That looks pretty good, cousin, he says in Draconian as he scoots by. You should try the ale! Suiting his own words he takes a pull from his own pitcher-sized, at least to his proportions, wooden mug.

Finally he reached the source of the music, a group of bards playing! His clawed feet begin tapping along to the music and his legs itched to dance. Setting his mug nearby, he pulled out one of his prized possessions; a set of Sylvan Pan-pipes. He took up the tune the bards were playing and began to let the music flow through him. The tapping foot soon began to stomp and then to hop. Before long he was leaping and hopping about as he played, dancing like some horned lizard/satyr hybrid in the falling dusk.

[Nocturno]

After finding the animals well cared for he will grab an ake of his own and pull up a stump to watch the show.

[TristenC]

Pik lets the final notes die out with a huge grin on his face. He roams back over near the stage using the passing crowd to disappear and concealing himself to watch from the shadows backstage rather than in front with the rest of the crowd. The most interesting things could be seen when viewed from an unexpected angle...

----------
Stealth roll: +2 (dex) +4(+2 proficiency x2 for expertise) = 1d20+6
Pik II hiding near stage to watch the show [1d20+6] = 17+6 = 23
sweet...

[Chris1234]

Rowan wanders around the crowd looking for anyone really interesting, really different.

[Lithain]

Sensing that things are about to change, I panic and quickly devour the rest of my divinely slow roasted bowl of honey garlic chicken legs. "..we will never be apart, my love.." Licking my lips while patting my stomach, I gaze around with a smile, ready for things to begin.

[Nova Lunis]

[Carrion rolled an 11 and discussed me posting on his behalf]

The sign has changed to 20 minutes

The waif sneaks something into Carrion's pocket un-noticed the sneaks off into the crowd while Carrion himself is looking for a plausible mark. He draws a flask from his pocket and spikes his drink, then consumes it. He rises from his bench and makes his way through the crowd, going with the flow towards the main stage.

Rose is swept off her stump as a group of gnomes pass her heading towards the main stage. One of them even picks up the stump and carries it over their head to use as a seat later. A young female gnome looks as though she feels bad for you.
come on or you'll miss the show
Rose adjusts her hood and huffs.
The Darkness: What do owlbears eat?

While Rowan makes his way through the crowd everyone is very polite and kind, moving out of his way, patting him on the shoulder, smiling broadly at him. The butterly floats away and suddenly nobody seems to notice him anymore. Then something catches his eye; a high elf in a top hat and a purple cloak covered with gold stars that brushes the ground walks by. He wears white gloves and strides with a purpose, though somewhat slowly - he is very old, even for an elf, and his eyes hold the wisdom of a lifetime in their gaze. Rowan begins to follow the strange man - as does everybody around him, heading towards the main stage.

Before Sornin leaves the petting zoo a small rabbit catches his eye - it looks exactly as if the rabbit was trying to get his attention. Sornin leans down and the rabbit speaks to him
You've gotta get me out of here. Please!
The rabbit looks panicked and glances over his shoulder towards a shady corner where you can make out the silhouette of a large man but you can't determine his race. Before you can blink it's gone and there's nobody there. The rabbit looks slightly calmer
I've got to go
He sneaks out a hole in his enclosure and disappears into the crowd before you can stop him.
Sornin looks confused but the crowd is starting to gather in one direction; he follows the flow towards the main stage, picking up an ale on the way

Grognak has finished signing autographs for some hatchet throwers and is ushered by a member of the fairs committee to a seat at the centre stage. He sits front row centre. Women of every race clamour for a seat near him.

As Lithain polishes off his food he notices the dragon kin sitting next to him looks violently ill. He gets up and runs towards the nearest thicket of bushes,vomiting. Somebody else takes his place immediately. The crowd is getting thick quickly.

The singer of the band waves to Pik as he heads towards the main stage and starts packing up his gear. The crowd here disperses and begins to follow Pik easily ducks under most people and sneaks his way behind the stage, now the only place not crawling with fair-goers eager to see the show.

The sign has counted down to 0

[Chris1234]

Rowan follows the crowd with a little more urgency trying to move through it with a gentle barge or an elbow with accompanying "Sorry sir", "Parson me, sir," comments. - He'll see better if he's at the front.

[TristenC]

Pik takes a pull from his ale and sits cross-legged back stage, still hidden but watching excitedly.

[Nocturno]

Sornin will follow the flow while thinking about the rabbit.