Although he wasn't a follower of Desna, Draul Vasilo knew of Desna and her legends. When Desna fell to Golarian after battling Lamashtu, she was nursed back to health by a blind orphan. To thank the orphan, Desna turned him into an immortal swallowtail butterfly so that he could explore the world. For a long time, Draul struggled to think why a benevolent god would turn someone into a butterfly. It was only through silent contemplation that he realized that as a butterfly, the blind orphan had true freedom. A butterfly had no expectations and obligations so there was nothing stopping him from flying around the world.

The legend is celebrated during the Swallowtail Festival, held during the first day of the season of fall. To Sandpoint, a small town of a little more than a thousand people built to the coast, the Swallowtail Festival was more than a celeration to Desna. Draul had only heard five years of the horrible events that took place in Sandpoint which culminated with the burning of the cathedral. Yet, the town pushed on, building a new cathedral. As the town leaders gathered to make their speeches at the start of the day, all eyes were on the newly built cathedral.

It was quite an impressive cathedral, one which hosted shrines to not one god but six, Desna included. Draul, sent by his church to Sandpoint to observe the cathedral on the day it was opened to the public, was granted a tour of the building. Of note, he was proud to see Sarenrae's shrine, given that he followed her doctrine as a paladin. The tour came to an end around seven standing stones around a stone altar in an open courtyard of the cathedral. Draul listened attentively to the explanation of how the stones represented the seven towers of Desna's followers.

Draul felt that he stood out even though Sandpoint had a small population of half-orcs. He stood taller over the others in the chapel with a bulky build and his skin was a dark shade of green. Even though he was religious, his gray armor and holstered wooden club didn't instill that image or his black hair cut short in a style common to guards and soldiers. The wooden ankh that hung from his necklace over his chest did show his dedication to Sarenrae, and for Draul, that was enough. People could think whatever they want of him but he would prove who he truly was through action.

After taking in the standing stones, Draul looked around and spotted Father Zantus attending to a small crowd of visitors. Father Zantus had taken over as high priest of Sandpoint after his predecessor was killed in the fire that destroyed the first cathedral. Father Zantus had suntanned skin, short black hair, and a trimmed mustache and beard. Desna's holy symbol hung from his neck over his blue robes. When the crowd parted, Draul decided now was the time to meet with the high priest and stepped forward to speak with him.

"Father Zantus," Draul greeted.

The priest turned to face Draul. "Good morning. You're the paladin from Magnimar, yes?"

"Indeed I am. I must say this is quite the impressive cathedral."

"I would hope so," Father Zantus smiled at the compliment. "It took years to see its construction. It was time well spent."

"So it was," Draul nodded in agreement. "You can expect me to come by more often."

"The letter I received did say that you were going to stay in Sandpoint. We may have space in the cathedral."

Draul shook his head. "I appreciate the offer but I'm not sure how long I will be in town for. I was sent to help keep the peace in town so that there are no incidents. My superiors in Magnimar trust my judgment for if there are threats or not. Then, there is the matter of my oath. If it does come up, I may be bound to stay in Sandpoint or leave elsewhere."

"I understand," Father Zantus bowed his head. "I haven't had a chance to meet many paladins but I am aware of the oaths they take. As long as your cause is just, the Sandpoint Cathedral will be willing to support you however we can, within reason."

"You have my thanks, and of course, as long as I am in Sandpoint, all you need to do is send for me and I shall be willing to aid the cathedral."

"I will be sure to keep that in mind, but as of right now, I don't think there's any issue we need you for," Father Zantus glanced about the courtyard. "It must have been quite the journey to come here. If you want to rest, no one would blame you."

"The day is still young. Rest can wait."

"In that case, you should join in the festivities," Father Zantus suggested. "I'm sure there's some game that you can have fun participating in."

Draul grinned. "I imagine there is."

A burly man gasped when Draul slammed his hand down on the table. The small crowd that had gathered around them cheered. Silver coins were passed around as bets were collected. The man, Draul's latest arm wrestling opponent in a tent for feats of strength, silently stood up and left, his pride injured.

Before he became a paladin, Draul enjoyed showing off his strength. Oftentime, he found himself in different taverns in Magnimar, challenging others to arm wrestle him as a way to make some extra coin. It was a fun way to pass the time, even when someone who had too much to drink decided to pick a fight. Draul moved on from that after dedicating himself to become a paladin. Today was different though. He wasn't betting any of his gold at all. He was simply joining in on the fun of the Swallowtail Festival.

"Who's next?" Draul laughed out with his challenge.

Some of the betters backed away, although one spoke up. "Where's the stable hand? The one without a shirt. Someone go find him."

Draul raised an eyebrow while someone broke away from the crowd. "Stable hand?"

"He works with the horses at the Goblin Squash Stables and sometimes breaks up fights at the Rusty Dragon," one of Draul's previous opponents explained. "You against him. That would make for an exciting round."

"The bets could go either way!" Another better cheered.

"Bring him on," Draul grinned. "I don't intend to lose."

"I've found him! Kennick! Over here!"

Draul glanced over to another part of the tent, spotting the man that the others talked about. Kennick was seated at the table, silently drinking from a mug of ale that had been provided to different competitors. Draul knew that he was taller than the stable hand, although he was just as bulky. The man had brown hair and a beard, and while both were cut short, there was still a wild look to him. The stranger wasn't exactly shirtless although the jacket of fur he wore only covered his shoulders and sides while exposing his chest and shoulders. Otherwise, he wore leather pants and boots and Draul was quick to notice the large greataxe that leaned against his table.

Slowly, Draul stood up and approached the table. He heard the cheers of spectators and bets being made although the half-orc was more focused on his opponent. A closer look revealed that Kennick was younger than Draul with his wild appearance and burly build hiding the fact that he was likely just entering adulthood. The paladin could see the youthful energy in his green eyes. He also noticed that the stranger didn't match the energy of the tent. Draul didn't take that he was uninterested but there was something off about him. It would be something that he found out during his challenge.

"Hail," Draul greeted. "I am Draul Vasilo, and you are?"

"Kennick," the stable hand said in a blunt manner.

"I've heard tales of your strength and I wish to see it for myself," Draul boasted, earning cheers from a gathering crowd.

"Okay," Kennick muttered, pushing his mug to the side.

Draul set his elbow down on the table with his hand offered. Kennick mimicked the half-orc and the two gripped hands firmly. Draul could tell that his opponent was strong, stronger than the others he had faced today. Could Kennick be stronger than him? He pushed those doubts away as someone started counting down from three. Kennick showed no sign of worry with a stoic expression that left the paladin with no clue as to what was going on in his mind.

As the count finished, Draul and Kennick pushed their arms against each other with all their strength.

At the start of the competition, the two were evenly matched. Already this was proving to be more challenging to Draul than his previous opponents were. Kennick showed no signs of budging but the half-orc wasn't going to give up so easily. He took deep breaths, trying to muster up a second wind to push Kennick's arm down to the table. He focused on the sounds of the crowd's cheers, determined not to lose after coming so far.

After a minute had passed, and the cheers started to die down, Draul was the one to start budging. A call from a spectator went out when Kennick started to move Draul's arm inch by inch, closer to the table. The paladin did everything he could to resist each step of the way but knew what was going to happen. There was no doubt in his mind that Kennick was stronger than he was. When Draul's hand touched the table's surface, the crowd went wild as silver coins were handed over to the winner of bets.

Kennick let go of Draul and ignored the crowd's compliments. Instead, he went for his mug, taking a long drink from his ale. Draul held onto his own hand to rest and thought more about his opponent. He could see the unease in Kennick's eyes. It wasn't because he was the center of attention. If that were the problem, he would have left the tent by now. After a few seconds of thinking it over, Draul realized that Kennick didn't know how to react to the crowd and kept to himself because of that. He stood out enough as is and wasn't sure how to best speak to the audience without making a mistake.

Draul decided that even though he lost, he could still help Kennick. The young stable hand did impress him enough with his strength.

"I have been bested by the mighty Kennick," Draul stood up. "Let's give him a round of applause for his perfect streak!"

Kennick paused at the clapping. He slowly smiled. "Thank you."

"It is no problem, my friend!" Draul grinned. "You're from the area as well."

"I am."

"How would you like to join me in exploring more of the town?" Draul asked. "I could use a guide. I'm sure we could find another festival activity to have fun with."

Kennick thought over the offer before nodding. "Very well."

"Then let's be off!"

With another nod, Kennick stood up and grabbed and holstered his weapon, ready to leave the tent. There was a final round of cheers with the half-orc suspecting that some of the betters were glad that the obvious winners were leaving. Draul looked forward to finding another part of the festival to participate in but also to have made a new friend. Kennick was rough around the edges but he saw a kind soul in his new friend. It may take some time but he is confident that Kennick will open up one day. For now, the two walk to another part of Sandpoint, with Draul leading the way and Kennick following behind.

Corita was never one for listening to speeches. They always bore her and she wished for the speaker to end the speech. New to Sandpoint, the young half-elf found herself joining the large crowd for the welcoming speeches of the Swallowtail Festival. The mayor kept her speech personal and even earned a few laughs from the natives of the town, although Corita felt left out since it was a joke mainly meant for the people of Sandpoint. The sheriff was blunt and straight to the point with safety protocols but was still boring. It took most of Corita's willpower to keep listening and it didn't help that none of the stands and tents were open yet.

There was a brief pause during the speeches as if the mayor and sheriff were expecting for someone else to come to speak. They were just as shocked as the crowd when someone took to the stage. Cyrdak Drokkus, the man in charge of the Sandpoint Theater, who delivered a fascinating speech on Sandpoint's history and how it had recovered through the terrible events that occurred five years ago. Even Corita found herself captivated by the speech, which was no surprise. Cyrdak and his theater were the reason she traveled so far from home.

For as long as she could remember, Corita dreamed of a life on the stage and earning the luxury and fame that came with it. She didn't have many opportunities to pursue her dream from her home of Turtleback Ferry but that didn't stop her from preparing. She practiced instruments, honed her singing voice, and learned how to act. Even from Turtleback Ferry, Corita heard of Sandpoint Theater and how it was slowly becoming more famous with its performances. She saw it as a stepping stone in her career as a bard. With a plan in mind, Corita left home, taking her father's sword and buckler to ward off bandits, and traveled to Sandpoint in time for the Swallowtail Festival.

After the welcoming speeches, Corita followed Cyrdak, intent on convincing him to let her perform. If only it were that simple.

"I'm truly sorry, but all parts for the next three plays have been cast already," Cyrdak repeated, not even glancing over his shoulder while walking back to Sandpoint Theater.

"At least let me show you what I can do," Corita pleaded. She followed behind him. "Maybe my singing will change your mind. Name a song, any song."

"As much as I would love to hear a song, I have to ensure that The Harpy's Curse goes as planned. I had to pull so many favors to get Allishanda as the lead and she would hate it if I missed her performance. It isn't too late to buy tickets."

"I'm broke," Corita sighed. "When can I expect auditions for your next show?"

"Three weeks from today," Cyrdak answered.

"That long?!" Corita gasped.

"That's right, and there'll be weeks of rehearsals afterwards. If you make it that long, I'm sure you'll be a success."

"But I already told you that I spent all of my money," Corita sighed. "How am I going to find food and a place to sleep for that long?"

"Are you not a performer?" Cyrdak scoffed. "Take up your lute and find an inn to perform at in exchange for a room and a meal."

"I… I don't have a lute," Corita admitted with a laugh.

Cyrdak finally looked over his shoulder and stopped. His eyes showed disbelief. "You said you knew how to play a lute."

"I do. I just don't have a lute because-"

"You don't have the gold for one," Cyrdak finished for her, who nodded. "Were you expecting me to provide you a lute?"

Corita glanced down at the ground, embarrassed. "Maybe…"

"You've wasted enough of my time," Cyrdak turned around. "If you make it to auditions, good for you. I wish you the best of luck."

Corita's jaw dropped, watching Cyrdak leave with a quickened pace. It was no use trying to convince him now. The half-elf was desperately trying to think of another solution when a woman behind her passed her. Corita gasped when she heard a comment from the woman.

"He's made valid points. I'm surprised that you thought that was going to work."

Corita focused her gaze on the woman and followed after her. She was an elven woman wearing dark blue robes. Corita noted that there were similarities between her and the elf with a slim build and fair skin although the elf's hair was a lighter shade of blonde than Corita's and longer, falling down to her shoulders whereas the half-elf's hair reached the back of her neck. Corita jokingly thought that they could be related but pushed those thoughts away. When she caught up with the elf, she noticed the gray-furred cat that followed alongside her. The elf turned to face Corita and the bard nearly gasped at the sight of her eyes; elves had larger irises than humans and dwarves so her eyes were blue without any white.

"Can I help you?" the elf asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about your comment," Corita quickly recovered from her shock. "What do you know about show business?"

"Less than you but I make up for it with logic," the elf scoffed. "What is a musician without an instrument to play?"

"I can play!" Corita defended herself, although she quickly looked away. "I just need an instrument."

"And why should someone loan you an instrument if they don't know if you can play? You are a stranger to them."

Corita sighed. "If you're so smart, how am I supposed to raise the money for my own lute?"

"Seeing as how you haven't thought of finding a job and saving up the money, I suggest you make use of the tools that you do have," she motions to the sword holstered on Corita's back. "There's plenty of work for mercenaries and it pays well."

"That's… that's a great idea," Corita smiled. "I may not know how to use this sword but how hard could it be?"

"I wish you the best of luck. Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait!" Corita exclaimed. "What's your name?"

The elf sighed. "It's Mariel. When someone says 'if you'll excuse me' it's usually the sign of a conversation coming to an end, you know."

Corita ignored Mariel's comment. "Well, Mariel, how would you like to hire the services of Corita Salache, aspiring mercenary?"

Mariel sighed again. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Corita laughed. "Okay, so you're not looking for a mercenary. But you can still help me. I'm from a small town so I'm not used to working out deals as a mercenary. You're smart though so you can make sure I get the best deal. I can even cut you in on any profit we make."

"I have a feeling that you'll follow me until I agree, just like you hounded that man about an audition."

"I can be very persistent," Corita grinned.

"Very well," Mariel sighed for the third time. "The sooner you find an employer, the sooner I can get on with the rest of my day in peace."

Corita couldn't hide her excitement. Mariel may not have been too interested in helping her but she was less interested in saying no. The mercenary work was going to be the next step on her way to the Sandpoint Theater, and from there, nothing would stop her from achieving fame as a bard.

What Draul enjoyed most about the Swallowtail Festival was seeing how it brought the community together. A large crowd gathered in the town center where wooden tables had been set up for lunch. The different taverns had set up booths to give out food. What excited Kennick the most was that the food was free. Draul thought that his new friend may have had issues with money but it turned out that he was very hungry. While Draul settled for a plate of curry-spiced salmon from the Rusty Dragon's booth, Kennick not only had that, but also the lobster chowder from the Hagfish and the peppercorn venison from the White Deer.

Even while balancing three dishes, Kennick insisted on making one last stop at the Fatman's Feedbag. The booth was serving salad with multiple workers cutting different kinds of meat. Before picking a dish, Kennick motioned to the man at the stand alternating between handing out the dish and cutting slices of ham, whispering to Draul.

"He's cutting with daggers."

Draul realized what Kennick meant. Whereas other chefs seen so far had used cooking knives, the man at the stand was cutting with daggers best suited for fighting. In fact, on closer inspection, the half-orc also realized that his clothing more resembled leather armor. Still, the man himself seemed friendly enough. His skin was dark and his brown hair was cut short with his beard trimmed shorter than Kennick's. He was shorter than both Draul and Kennick yet his body showed that he worked out. The man looked up at the two and smiled.

"It looks like you have plenty of food already," the man chuckled, looking at Kennick and the plates he held in his arm. "What can I do for you?"

"I'll take what your offering," Kennick said in a blunt manner.

"Coming right up," the man started to prepare Kennick's plate.

"Should you be cutting with those?" Draul asked, eyeing the daggers.

The server smirked and held up a dagger. "I assure you that they were cleaned before I started cutting."

"They're not for food though," Draul pointed out.

"Truth be told, I wasn't expecting to work today," the server explained with a shrug, going back to cutting. "I was hoping to enjoy the festival, but as I passed by here, my boss called me out and said he needed more hands. So, here I am now."

"That does make sense," Draul slowly nodded.

"That it does," the server agreed, holding out a plate for Kennick. "How about you two? What's with your weapons?"

"As a paladin, it is my duty to stand against anything that threatens those in danger," Draul explained with a smile. "My club is but a simple tool for that purpose."

"It's a detriment to fights and I'm also trying to become a mercenary" Kennick answered, looking down to see how he would carry a fourth plate. He finally turned to Draul. "Could you hold that for me?"

While Draul took the plate for Kennick, the server glanced at Kennick before speaking. "That would be two mercenaries I've met today. You wouldn't happen to know a half-elf mercenary by chance. Really energetic and quirky. It's a shame that I didn't ask for her name."

Kennick shook his head. "I'm new to mercenary work."

"Maybe the two of you could work together," the server suggested, looking around the different tables. "Let's see if I can find her."

"Might we know your name?" Draul asked. "You're going out of your way to help us so it's fitting that we learn it."

"Call me Razvan," the server introduced himself. "There she is. Still with her friend too. Follow me. I'll introduce you, and whatever you do, don't suggest they're related. I learned that the hard way."

It took a few seconds for Razvan to clean his daggers against his armor and put them away before he could join Draul and Kennick. Although the paladin was worried about Razvan getting in trouble with his employer from cutting work, it seemed as though the server had no problems with it. He led the two over to one of the long tables and pointed out a half-elf with a sword and an elven woman wearing robes. Razvan stepped forward and waved toward the two.

"You there," Razvan addressed the half-elf. "You haven't quit being a mercenary yet, have you?"

"Not yet!" the half-elf grinned. "Are you looking to hire the services of Corita Salache, bard and aspiring mercenary?"

"Not exactly," Razvan motioned to the two men behind him. "I have another mercenary who might be interested in working with you."

"Please, have a seat, all of you," Corita grinned. "Looks like business is going to pick up soon, Mariel."

The elf sighed. "We'll see."

"Good day," Draul greeted and took a seat while Kennick carefully set his plates. "I'm Draul Vasilo, and this is my friend Kennick."

"Which one of you is the mercenary that wants to work with me?" Corita asked.

"That would be Kennick, if he's interested," Draul answered. "My duties as a paladin come before any mercenary work."

Corita looked at Kennick and eyed him up and down. "You're perfect! People want to hire strong mercenaries like you!"

Kennick nodded. "They do."

"So, since I'll be the brains of the operation, I'll get paid more," Corita tapped her chin in thought. "How about I get three fourths of any payment while you get the final fourth."

"Okay," Kennick said with a shrug before he started to eat, taking a massive bite from his salmon.

"Hold up," Draul said. "I can't in good conscience let this deal go through. Kennick should get paid more."

"Just settle for equal pay and be done with it," Mariel told Corita in a dismissive manner.

"How does that sound?" Corita asked Kennick.

Kennick nodded slowly, not speaking with his mouth full of food. Draul sighed in relief and turned to Mariel. "What's your deal with all of this?"

"I'm hoping to pawn off Corita to your friend so that she would leave me alone," Mariel answered in a blunt manner. Although Corita likely heard her, her smile remained as she went to eat her meal.

"She doesn't seem that bad," Draul said with a chuckle.

"You didn't have to deal with her by yourself until now," Mariel pointed out.

"Well, how about we join you both for the Swallowtail Festival so that you're not alone with her?" Draul offered.

Mariel paused in thought for several moments before nodding reluctantly. "You don't make for terrible company. I have no objections."

Draul grinned, and with the matter settled, focused on his meal. The amount of companions he befriended in Sandpoint had doubled. It was important to make friends in his new home and he was glad for a chance to help them, such as pairing Corita and Kennick up as mercenaries and giving Mariel a break from the bard's antics. The group made small talk as their lunch continued and stuck around with each other for the rest of the festival.

Draul lost track of time as the Swallowtail Festival continued. Before the group got too far, they were joined by Razvan after he was allowed to leave work for the rest of the day. With Kennick only speaking in as few words as he could and not bothering to continue conversations, Razvan's presence was welcomed by Corita, who took the time to chat with him as the group made their way through different festival games. Although Mariel had the chance to leave for good, she stuck around. The elf mainly talked with Draul, not being able to connect with the others. The paladin was more than happy to keep up with Mariel in conversation even when it became apparent that her topics of interest related to more scholarly works than he was used to.

As the sun started to set, the group of five found themselves back in front of the Sandpoint Cathedral with the main crowd when a sharp sound of distant thunder silenced the different conversations. Everyone turned to the central stage to see Father Zantus with a wide smile. Draul realized that this was the start of the consecration of the new cathedral and was eager to see how it went.

Before Father Zantus could speak, a woman's voice screamed out in the crowd.

Murmurs started in the crowd as Draul and his new friends looked for the source. Another scream, this time belonging to a man, broke through, followed by many more. Finally, they could make out high-pitched shrieking and giggling that didn't belong to a human. Draul cautiously reached for his greatclub as the crowd started to part with the high-pitch voices breaking out into a terrible song that echoed throughout the area.

Goblins chew and goblins bite!

Goblins cut and goblins fight!

"Goblins?" Corita gasped, looking around with wide eyes.

Stab the dog and cut the horse!

Goblins eat and take by force!

"What went by my leg?!" A voice in the distance called out.

Razvan frowned. "This isn't good…"

Goblins race and goblins jump!

Goblins slash and goblins bump!

"Stick together," Mariel advised in a cautious tone. "Don't go off by yourself."

Burn the skin and mash the head!

Goblins here and you be dead!

"We can handle a few goblins," Draul declared, holding out his greatclub. "We'll have to work together."

Kennick nodded and upholstered his greataxe. A stray dog yelped out in pain with the group turning towards the sound. The poor beast collapsed onto the ground in a puddle of blood as a small creature dashed behind a nearby wagon with an assortment of barrels having crashed by the neighboring stand. Although the shrilled song came from everywhere, Draul focused and heard several "singing" voices coming from behind the cover.

Chase the baby and catch the pup!

Bonk the head to shut it up!

Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed!

We be goblins! You be food!

Then, three goblins emerged from behind the wagon and nearby barrels, cackling madly as their attack on Sandpoint continued.

A/N: Good day. It's me, Archer, and I'm here with another Pathfinder story.

Some of you may have kept up with Edge of Anarchy back in November (reasons for the delay in that will be explained in a future update in that story) and remember that I was originally going to write a story on Rise of the Runelords. It's finally happening. I've read up on several of the adventure paths and Rise of the Runelords still remains one of my favorite stories, both as a player and a dungeon master.

This chapter was meant to introduce the main cast and lead in to the first fight. Honestly, I prefer this introduction to the one in Edge of Anarchy, as the introduction of our group of five proved to be more natural than the scripted nature of Edge of Anarchy's introduction.

Be on the look out for more updates here and in Edge of Anarchy.

Until next time.