The whole city is in a festive mood that even the continuous light drizzle can’t dampen. A sea of brightly hued awnings stretches out across the vast city square, and people from all strata of society and every realm of endeavor move about among the merchant’s stalls.
On the eastern side you spot a freshly erected stage with a curtain of brilliant white emblazoned with the city’s heraldry, a ship on calm seas. Guarded by members of the Watch, well dressed individuals and folk wearing sashes of city office mill around behind stage, apparently waiting for the High House of Wonders, the city’s famous temple of Gond, to ring the right hour.
It seems there’s time left before the festival officially starts, and all about you folk are selling exotic goods from every corner of Faerûn.
Suddenly, a shout breaks the happy mood. A bearded merchant grabs the barbarian’s shoulder. “That’s the second time you’ve stepped on my cloak, sir,” he yells. “You’re either doing it on purpose, or you’re the clumsiest oaf I’ve ever seen!"
The Barbarian doesn’t take this too kindly and strikes out at him with his fist. Catching the man unawares he steps back holding his cheek in shock. A tear forms in his eye as he says “This cloak is fine silk, and see how you’ve frayed it! I expect that you will compensate the cost.” with a whimper in his voice.
The spritely bard steps in and introduces herself to the man and tries to calm the situation. In the mean time the mans friend that no-one noticed is picking the pocket of the bard. All attention is on the man as he suddenly changes tune when the bard suggests that someone else might have done it. The man begins to make off into the crowd when the bard realises that she has been made lighter with her purse missing.
They make pursuit into the crowd with both the escapers and the pursuers being slowed by the bustle of the crowd. The barbarian then forces his way through the crowd as one of the thieves trip and the other tries to help…