The Swallowtail Festival

The Land of Varisia

Varisia is a land that never truly forgot its past—no matter how hard its people tried. It is a place of wild coasts and deep forests, rolling plains broken by lonely tors of stone, and long roads that wind past things better left unnamed.

Empires have never held Varisia for long. The land resists them. Cities rise, fracture, and fall back into legend, while caravans, clans, and settlers move on, leaving stories behind instead of monuments.

But everywhere—on hilltops, in ravines, half-swallowed by forest or surf—you can find the ruins. Vast blocks of rune-etched stone. Cracked spires and sunken roads. Towers that hum faintly when storms roll in, and vaults whose doors remain sealed centuries after their makers vanished. These are the remnants of Thassilon, an ancient empire older than most written history, whose rulers wielded magic like kings wield crowns.

The stories say Thassilon was ruled by sorcerer-lords called runelords, each embodying a deadly sin elevated into law, culture, and power. Their cities were wonders—and horrors—where magic reshaped land and flesh alike. When Thassilon fell, it did not fade gently. Something broke. Something was sealed away.

No one agrees on how it ended. Earthquakes. Civil war. Divine judgment. Some say the runelords destroyed each other. Others whisper that they still sleep, waiting beneath the stones.

Arrival at Sandpoint

The road winds gently down toward the sea, and the smell of salt and pine hangs in the air. Ahead, perched on cliffs overlooking the Varisian Gulf, lies the town of Sandpoint—small, sturdy, and quietly proud. Wooden bridges span a narrow river that cuts through town, gulls wheel overhead, and the distant crash of waves echoes against stone.

Sandpoint is not a place of legends or empires. It is a place of fishermen and farmers, craftsmen and traders. A place where people know their neighbors' names, where old grudges linger just as long as old friendships, and where the past is never quite as buried as everyone pretends.

Today, however, the town is celebrating. Colorful banners flutter from rooftops, food stalls crowd the streets, and laughter carries on the breeze. The long-awaited Swallowtail Festival has finally arrived, a dedication of Sandpoint's new cathedral and a sign that the town is ready to put darker chapters behind it.

You have each come to Sandpoint for your own reasons: work, curiosity, obligation, or perhaps simply the promise of a good meal and a day's distraction. Whatever drew you here, you now find yourselves among the gathered crowds as bells begin to ring and townsfolk press toward the square.

The Goblin Raid

A sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun's setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage.

He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman's scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises—high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human.

The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.

Goblins.

Ameiko arrives with dire news: more goblins are loose in the town and setting buildings ablaze. Without hesitation, the heroes make their way to the next block.

New Allies & Dark Discoveries

The man they saved introduces himself as Aldern Foxglove, a nobleman from Magnimar who has been in town to restore his family's estate to the south. He thanks the heroes profusely, particularly taken with Joan and her sultry accordion playing.

Sheriff Hemlock appears on the scene and praises the heroes for their valor. He and his guards head through the streets, rounding up stray goblins. Further investigation by the heroes reveals that some of the raiders escaped by leaping off the junk cliff at the town's edge.

But Lenna's "bugging" of the sheriff uncovers something far more troubling: during the chaos, someone infiltrated the graveyard and stole the body of Father Ezakien Tobyn—the former priest who perished in the temple fire five years ago.

Why would goblins steal the bones of a dead priest? What darker purpose drives this raid?