Not yet. More visitors across town... (Anjella)

"What are you, anyways?" Anjella asked her huge companion, despite the rudeness of it. In the light of day, Shaka's size seemed even more apparent, as if the dark had hidden his true proportions. He would easily stand head and shoulders over the tallest men Anjella had ever seen.

He was quiet for a moment and eyed her was a questioning look. "There are different names for my kind," Shaka said. They had swapped to common from the more regional Varisian they had been speaking before. Shaka was fluent, but not a native speaker, of the Traveller’s Tongue and while Anjella had gotten plenty of practice lately, she really was a city girl. "The easiest to understand would be half-giant."

"Fuck," Anjella shook her head. She could believe it, even if it sounded ridiculous. Well, not so ridiculous. Half Elves and Half Orcs weren't so uncommon, let alone the rare folk who bore the mark of the heavens and hells, or the elements. Why not a half-giant? How would that work, though? She wondered. It would have had to have been a giant mother and a something-else father, right?

"Mmm," Shaka muttered something, and Angella didn't ask him to clarify. She'd woken him halfway through the night for his watch shift, and he'd nearly killed her again. His massive fist had grabbed her by the throat in that moment between sleep and wakefulness, and she'd clapped his ears hard to get him to let her go.

At least he apologized once he was actually awake. Well, it had still been a little more terse than she was owed. It had been just enough for her to feel safe to go to sleep.

There hadn’t been any banter between them in the morning. He'd woken her before the sun had even begun to glimmer on the horizon, and they had packed up their bedrolls and few belongings before quickly hitting the road. No breakfast, just a sour swig from their waterskins.

The road was quiet in the pre-dawn, and slowly wound between big redwood forests. They were headed west and south, away from the sun, and the thick fog of the region slowly burned away. Now to the south a big limestone bluff blocked the horizon - the last landmark Anjella had been told to look for. They were close.

Close, and she still had questions. Her half-giant companion continued to move like a predator, his eyes darting to the edges of woods that had been cut back more than fifty yards to either side of the road. He turned to check behind them often.

"Expecting trouble?" Anjella asked.

He looked to her and seemed to consider before answering. "Yes," he finally said. "The past few years, banditry has been on the rise in the entire region."

"That's why you set up your little ambush last night," Anjella said, and he nodded. "You hunt them."

"I do," he said.

"I didn't come across anyone like that on my travels," she said. "I walked the width of Varisia without being accosted once."

"You took the ways of your people though," Shaka said. "This isn't one of your hidden roads. This is the Lost Coast Road, the only land route from Magnimar all the way up to Riddleport. There aren't enough folk living in the region to draw the number of bandits I've been dealing with, which means they've been pushed or sent here to target the merchants and cause trouble."

"Hmm," Anjella grunted. If he was right, that was a problem that Magnimar should have been taking care of. The City of Monuments claimed these lands as part of their holdings and under their protection, but yet again they proved themselves incapable of following through on their promises. Everyone from Korvosa knew that Magnimar was a disaster waiting to happen, sucking resources and trade away from the true capital of Varisia.

Shaka didn't ask any questions in return, and Anjella didn't offer chatter. He wants to be the strong, silent type? Fine. Good with me. I like the silence.

She walked along with the mountain-on-legs and found herself keeping an eye out for danger as well.

Not that she hadn't been doing that before, but now it felt more intentional.

Damn it, she thought. She hated feeling like she was doing what this asshole was telling her.

The road squeezed closer to the coast, and as soon as the sun began to release from the horizon and lift into the sky, the fog was burned away and the cloudless sky had a bright, turquoise glow and the waters of the Varisian Bay were as deep a blue as the much smaller Conqueror’s Bay back home. The sea went as far as her eyes could see. Far out on the north east horizon she thought she could see the telltale shadow of an island, but otherwise it was clear water. The water wasn't awe-inspiring for her, she'd grown up in a harbour city after all, but Anjella had to admit it was particularly pretty.

At some point Anjella noticed that Shaka was walking slowly next to her, matching the pace of her relatively shorter stature. This realisation just aggravated Anjella all the more. The big fucking lummox! She picked up her pace, and he matched it after a glance down at her.

Around a short bend through the forests, a town wall appeared. It was lower than the walls of Korvosa, but then she also had to assume there was less here to protect than there was in the greatest city of Varisia. The wall stretched from the coastal bluff that lead down to the waters below, across the road and into the forest bordering the road to the south. A gate, standing wide open, was being manned by two guards, and through the gate was a riot of colour that could only mean that it was Market or Festival day.

Is it really that time already? The Swallowtail Festival wasn’t a very popular one in Korvosa, except among the Travelling Folk who had made the city their home. It was dedicated to the goddess Desna, the Great Dreamer; her impracticality didn’t lend itself so much to grand religious services or zealous followers. Among her people however, Desna was seen as the patron of travellers and explorers, and her festival days were never missed.

The guards at the gate were lax, leaning in the shade of the gatehouse and chatting between themselves as they watched Anjella and Shaka approach up the road. One had a crown of flowers sat on top of his pot helm, while the other didn’t even both picking up his shield from where it was resting on the ground.

A sign, mounted to the outside of the wall, caught Anjella's attention.

Welcome
to
Sandpoint

Please Stop to
See Yourself
As We Do

"What kind of provincial crap is that?" Anjella muttered to herself.

Shaka chuckled, just once, and Anjella hated the fact that she felt a twinge of satisfaction making him break his stern demeanour.

"Welcome, y'all," the guard with the flowers on his helmet said with a grin. "Y' here for the Festival?"

"For the dedication," Shaka said.

The guard smiled and nodded, looking to Anjella. "I was on my way here no matter what. I honestly thought I’d missed the festival altogether.” She couldn't help letting a small grin slip onto her lips as she looked at the riotous colours of the crowd through the gate. It seemed like little Sandpoint took to Desna’s day lot more than Korvosa did.

"Well, come on in folks," the other guard said. "Just remember to mind y’selves. No roughhousing, this is a family atmosphere, yeah?"

"Understood," Shaka said. His eyes had already drifted to the crowds ahead, and he began to move.

Anjella watched him go. Now, able to see him next to the guards and other people, she was taken again by just how fucking big he was. His hands could probably wrap most of the way around a man’s head. Half-giant, indeed. I wonder if- She cut that thought off, not liking where it was going.

She turned back to the guards. "I'm sure the Festival means everyone is out and about," she said. "But maybe you can help point me to my cousin. He's supposed to help me settle in here and maybe find some work."

"Sure, little lady," said the guard with the flowers. "Sandpoint's busy today, lots of visitors, but if he's local we probably know him. Town ain't that large. What's his name?"

"Jubrayl Vhiski," Anjella said.

The guards glanced at each other, their looks darkening slightly. "You're a Vhiski?" the one without the flowers asked.

Shit. Mother, what have you gotten me in to?

"Well, no. Cousins by marriage."

"Mm," the guard said. "Well, you seem like a nice enough young lady. A friendly word of warning, yeah? Your cousin is trouble. Careful what you let him get you into."

The look in their eyes. The cudgels hanging from their belts. Their armor, studded leather hauberks and pot helms. Anjella flashed back to the last time she'd had a run in with the Korvosan Guard. They were bigger, meaner and scarier than these two by a country mile, but she still felt that pinch deep in her gut.

"Understood, sir," Anjella said, nodding.

The silence between them lengthened.

"Well," the flowered guard said. "Go on, then. Enjoy the Festival, and stay safe, y'here?"

"Thank you," Anjella said. She squeezed her fists behind her back tight enough that she felt one of her knuckles pop. She walked away from the guards, hoping to disappear in the crowd.

If she had any luck, they would get drunk at some point and her talk with them would become just a hazy thought in a day of celebration. She certainly did _not _need the town guard keeping a special eye on her.

Not if she was going to figure out how to survive in exile.

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