Tag Archives: Droste

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 4 – 5, 4718

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 late night
Churlwood The Bramblemouth Goblins’ Den

Change of plan: we decided to not sleep until after we had purged the goblins from their nest. This meant advancing down the narrow and short tunnel to where the remainder of the horde had fled. In the dark. With an unknown number of goblins waiting for us at the far side.

This was not a good strategic plan, especially with our magic users low on spells. Despite my misgivings we pushed forward.

It did not go well.

A little more than halfway down the death trap — by that I mean tunnel — we, or more precisely the person in front, Shimsa, was blocked by a very large snake. Surprisingly the snake spoke common, but unsurprisingly it was able to projectile vomit (with good accuracy) toxic phlegm. A light spell was cast on a stone so that those of us able to assist could see, and a short while later we were filing past the ex-snake.

Shimsa reached the end of the tunnel where proceded to enact our plan, which was to get as many of us out into the large chamber so we could engage in the goblins before they cut down those of us in front.

It worked, but only barely, and we used up the last bit of healing magic we possessed just to survive. There were a lot more goblins here than expected and the only thing that saved us was their relative incompetence, or perhaps overconfidence. Had they simply swarmed us all at once or released their dogs right away I would not be writing this now.

We scrounged what useful items we could from the two better equipped goblins and then searched the area.

We quickly realized that we were in the ruins of what had once been an above ground collection of buildings, which had been buried over time. The goblins must have burrowed in and set up their den amidst the ruins.

A recently excavated passageway led east. I suddenly realized why the goblins had captured the dwarves and exclaimed, “The turds brought the dwarves here to dig for them because, as far as they were concerned, every dwarf was an expert on mining.”

The passageway quickly dead ended, but a door in the north wall was exposed and beyond that was a room with a very highly magical circle — a teleportation portal of some sort. Thassilonian runes encircling the portal proclaimed that it was dedicated to Alasnist, the Runelord of Wrath.

Both Yanor and I were excited by the fact that these were Thassilonian ruins associated with a specific Runelord — the same one for which the ancient ruins beneath Sandpoint were built. I had visited those back when I was last there, but they had been picked over and sanitized years before, whereas these ruins were pristine and waiting to be explored!

We tossed a goblin body into the circle and it vanished, as expected. But we were unprepared to follow. Who knows if we could get back or what awaited us on the other side.

Instead we followed the main passage south, which is where we discovered that one goblin remained. She was some sort of spell caster and she was guarding the two dwarves.

After another unpleasant, but relatively brief, fight we dispatched the threat and freed the dwarves.

They were happy to be free and they confirmed my suspicion about why the goblins had captured them. Apparently the goblins were looking for treasure because the “long shanks” (their word for anything on two legs taller than three feet) were excavating another ruin close by.

That got our attention, and we wondered who they were and what they were looking for. It seemed likely that Sir Roderic’s words about his map and mysterious artifacts he had found were tied up in all of this.

We are thoroughly exhausted and are camping inside the inner, larger cavern near the (closed and spiked) teleport room door.

Toilday, Sarenith 4, 4718 afternoon
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside

The night passed without event and in the morning light we hauled the goblin bodies out from their den and tossed them over the ridge. We knew we’d probably return in the not too distant future, and goblins smelled ripe enough even when they haven’t been rotting for several days.

We escorted the dwarves back to town, picking up the bodies of the guards we had discovered yesterday.

As we crossed over the ferry Hallem said we had made an enemy with Lullaby from our humiliation of her in front of her team the day before. Yeah, we kind of figured that out for ourselves, and I was half expecting her to ambush us this morning. No doubt she was still licking her wounds and making big plans for her revenge. We will need to come back this way through the forest again, and we’ll need to be prepared to deal with the bandits — and my vote is to remove them as a threat once and for all.

Back in Roderic’s Cove we brought the bodies to Captain Freson, warning her about how to properly keep them from turning into undead. Next we briefed Audrahni about our adventure.

And lastly we visited Galds, the leader of the dwarven caravan. She was true to her word and took orders from each of us for a master work weapon of our choice. I paid extra for a compound longbow that would utilize my strength to deal extra damage.

As uncomfortable and awkward as it was to fight the goblins in such cramped quarters, I have found that the encounter has improved my ability with a bow at close range.

Next up was town hall, where we searched through the collection of regional maps that Sir Roderic had drawn. We found one of the Churlwood on which someone had drawn a Thassilonian rune — it highlighted a ridge very much like (and close to) the ridge into which the Bramblemouth’s had dug their den. On the back of this map was the sihedron rune — the primary symbol of the Runelords!

Yep, we’d be heading back into the Churlwood. But we need to proceed with caution. We already knew another party was already digging in the area, and we now had to deal with Lullaby’s wounded pride as well.

I purchased some extra arrows, a nice rope, and a lantern — the latter would have proved useful in the day before, and I am sure will prove useful very soon.

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 4, 4718

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 night
Churlwood The Bramblemouth Goblins’ Den

We have actually made camp underground in the heart of the local goblins’ den. How awesome is that? It’s just like the stories I’ve read about explorers on grand quests: they always end up underground — sometimes for days on end.

Of course one thing those accounts don’t dwell on is just how cramped it is, although being inside a goblin burrow may account for that. Nor how smelly it can be… although again: the goblins. I am thankful for the small fire we’ve kept going both for the light and because the smoke helps mask the odor of these foul smelling pests.

It is hard to believe that just this morning we were rummaging through Sir Roderic’s wreck of a manor house. How did we end up here?

It started when we returned to town from the haunted house and reported our findings to Audrahni. She was as puzzled as we were about what Roderic’s ghost had said — especially about finding “his map.” She did mention that the town kept (or used to) a collection of his maps and perhaps we should start there.

Our adventures at the house convinced me that I needed to upgrade my bow, and so I made my way over to Cove Armory to see if I could order something more capable from Lyndwyn. She was busy talking with a pair of dwarves when I arrived with some of my companions in tow.

I like to be aware of what is being said around me, but in this case there was no need to eavesdrop. The conversation was loud and full of woe. The dwarves were suppliers of the weapons and armor that Lyndwyn provided, and on their way here their small caravan had been ambushed by a troop of goblins and two of her party kidnapped.

Everybody along the Lost Coast Highway from Magnimar to Riddlesport knows about goblins. These small pesky creatures typically go for easy prey and small time thievery. Acts of organized attacks were rare: their little greasy heads just don’t have enough space to formulate, much less hold onto thoughts that complex for very long.

And yet there are stories of goblins being incited to act in such ways, and Takkad’s journal mentions two such incidents. My guess was that the Bramblemouth Goblins (our local infestation) had fallen in with someone or something behind these actions. This did not bode well of Roderic’s Cove and we already had enough problems as things were.

I asked Galds, the leader of the dwarven weapon-smiths, where they had been ambushed and how long ago. I indicated that we might be able to head out and find her missing companions and find out what the goblins were up to (it is always easier to head off trouble rather than waiting for it to come to you).

We learned they had been waylaid the day before, and that the town guard had been alerted and sent someone to investigate. Clearly our first stop was to check with Captain Freson. As soon as Galds realized we were going to help she told us if we could rescue her comrades then she would craft for each of us a high quality weapon of our choice.

Well, who could say no to that?

Captain Freson, as it turned out, was looking for someone to go out and investigate why the guards she had sent out yesterday had not returned.

“We’re already heading out that way to find the dwarves, and so we’ll keep an eye open for the guards as well,” I said.

She appeared to relax, but this was short lived because a villager came racing in at that moment screaming, “Monsters have invaded the northern end of town, and citizens have been hurt!”

Freson gave us a what now? sort of look and we said we’d look into that before looking for the dwarves. Our first stop was to gather the rest of our team from the Creekside and we then quickly made our way along the north road out of town.

We didn’t have to go far to go before a pair of… things came shambling out from the woods toward us. They were like someone had taken a collection of body parts and fused them together in a lumpy humanoid form.

We took them down with ranged and up close attacks. Yanor thought they might have been constructed using ancient Runelord magic. This combined with what we found out about local Runelord artifacts just earlier in the day could not be a coincidence.

We followed the blobby things’ tracks into the woods where we found Svacy, the local kennel keeper, unconscious. She came to after some healing and we helped her find her dogs and then continued to follow the tracks.

The creatures appear to have come from town itself, but we lost the trail on the road’s hard surface. Right by Peacock Manor.

Hmm. Rumor had it that the folks who lived in the manor we mostly intellectuals researching ancient lore. I wondered out loud if their pursuits extended beyond merely the theoretical, and if one of their experiments had gotten loose.

We brought a creature up to the manor and knocked, explaining to the extravagantly dressed fop who opened the door where we had found it, and claiming we hoped they could research what it was for the town guard.

They had us store the body in an outbuilding, but were told to “shove it in and close the door fast.” Sure enough, Vlad and I saw something large and spider-like scuttle across the floor with a sound that reminded me of the giant zombie cock roaches we had encountered at Roderick’s Wreck.

There was just too much going on here.

We reported back to both the captain and Audrahni and then took the ferry into the Churlwood. Or to be more accurate up to the Churlwood, where a party of Roadkeepers waited for us.

Bandits in the Churlwood are a known problem. Traders and caravans passing through had two choices: pay the “protection fee” these land pirates demanded, or go through heavily armed. It was from the latter that I earned a living.

The leader of the bandits introduced herself as Lullaby and demanded ten gold pieces each for “safe passage” through the Churlwood. We countered that we were there on town business because traders who passed through just the day before came to harm, despite having paid the Roadkeepers for “safe passage.”

This logic was wasted on these numbskulls, and when it became obvious we had no intention to pay their extortion fees they attacked. Things did not go especially well for them and so when Shura offered them a chance to break off their attack and live to see another day they (surprisingly to me) took it.

We continued on our way into the woods following the tracks of the guards through the branching trails. By late afternoon we found them laying at the foot of a large, dead oak. The oak was on a mound that was encircled by a well tended gravel road. Odd. Something glittered from the lower branches, and Jigu said it was a magical item.

We warily approached the three recumbent forms when a bloated zombie like creature stumbled out from around the tree and toward us. We attacked it from a distance and it moved to the other side of the tree. As we pursued it, pressing our attacks, it dove into a hole in the ground and eventually appeared on our side of the road, where we quickly killed it.

My companions thought it was a form of undead that could not cross over roads. This made the circular road with magical trinket in the middle look suspiciously like a fiendish trap. The guards were dead, and they too would turn if they left sight of a road. We left them next to the road and took the amulet that was hanging from the tree (it was a holy symbol of Desna that conferred some special protection from mind control).

We continued into the woods where we came upon an ever increasing number of goblin tracks. We followed these to a clearing and an entrance to a cave in the hillside. There a trio of goblin sentinels attacked us and promptly died.

Jigu and I searched the area for a back entrance while Vlad memorized a new spell, but we found nothing.

There was nothing for it but to head in. As I already mentioned the space was cramped, and dark, and filled with smoke.

A handful of goblins and goblin dogs resisted our attempt to enter, and so we killed some of them before there was a whistle from deeper within and the dogs ran away.

Further in was a roughly circular chamber with a fire burning and there we met more goblin resistance, but after killing most of these guards the survivers fled down a long and narrow passage.

Using magic and just plain stealth two of us (it was hard to tell just who in the smoke and dimness — I know it wasn’t me) crept down the passageway and discovered it opened into a much larger chamber where more goblins waited.

“We’ll need more magic than what we have available today to make it through without being massacred,” Vlad said. We all agreed and have set up camp with a guard watching the cave entrance and a another by the passage leading further in.

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 1 – Sarenith 4, 4718

Fireday, Sarenith 1, 4718 afternoon
Roderic’s Cove The Barracks

“Have you seen the Cove’s grinning old man?” Scald asked.

The caravan I was guarding had just returned from a quick trip (there and back again) to Riddlesport. I was on relatively friendly terms with Scald, one of the wagon drivers, who was from Roderic’s Cove and often brought up relatively useless bits of information about his home town.

I admitted my ignorance and a short while later we were standing before a wall where caravan wagons sheltered when staying in town. It was made from horizontally laid logs and the end of one had been carved into the menacing face of a grinning skull. The eyes looked oddly polished.

“Huh,” I replied, “Now that is interesting. Who did this?”

Scald said, “Nobody knows. It showed up some years ago. All of the local kids are terrified of it, and a rite of passage among the braver lads is to come here after dark and stick their fingers into the eye sockets.”

I had seen just such a carving in Riddlesport also near the caravan grounds there. We had called it “the caravan skull”, and it too had appeared some years ago when I was a child. It gave one the willies just looking at it, but I learned later it was probably a carving of Groetus: some minor deity related to Pharasma.

I’m sure there was a story behind the figures, but I doubt anyone but the person who carved them would be able to tell it.

Starday, Sarenith 2, 4718 night
Roderic’s Cove The Barracks

I have inadvertently become part of a team investigating the recent clashes between the area bandits, who call themselves the Road Keepers, and a local band of townfolk in search of a sense of belonging and answering to the name Hornfangs.

Apparently the Hornfangs consider it their duty to do something about the Roadkeepers, but up to a few weeks ago this had been limited to posturing and bluster. That changed during a midnight scuffle that left some of the Hornfangs dead in the town circle. Tensions have been high since then, but both sides kept away from one another.

Until today.

It was a market day at the Circle, and folks were wandering about the stalls socializing and doing their usual Starday shopping and selling. I was there looking for a better bow or maybe something odd bit of junk that turned out to be a priceless Thassilonian artifact… or just ancient junk. The Hornfangs were out and making brash and loud comments about how “something ought to be done” about the Roadkeepers. A few of us did our best to diffuse the situation, but we did notice one individual who seemed determined to keep poking the hornet’s nest.

Then a band of Roadkeepers crashed the party. Weapons were drawn on both sides, and once again a handful of us tried to get between the two groups to forestall any major blood letting. But it never came to that.

A ghostly form appeared and shouted, “Not in my cove!”

Well that was enough for me. And for most everybody else. We all scattered out from the square. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and while Fan would have been delighted at the spirit’s appearance, I could just see her shaking her head at my rapid departure.

By the time I returned the ghost had vanished and the town guard had arrived. A handful of other residents had returned with me (or had not been chased off by the figure in the first place).

Roderic’s Cove being what it is I knew everybody there (albeit some better than others). Yanor shared my enthusiasm for Thassilonian history and ruins, and we had discussed their ancient culture many times. He agreed with my assessment that the Circle itself was one such ruin, much like the Old Light in Sandpoint. Vlad and I had met while helping out the guards. The others I was less familiar with, although Jigu the halfling was hard not to recognize, as were the twins Sasha and Shura. Shimsa was still a bit of a mystery to me.

Audrahni arrived followed by Julit Freson. While I expected to see the captain of the guard I was surprised to see the elf. Of course everybody in Roderic’s Cove knew of Audrahni, and while I had seen her before I had never met her. The purpose of her presence in the town was fogged in gossip and rumor. She lived next to the graveyard and even acted as the town’s grave digger. But her interest and involvement in the well being her home apparently extended beyond this role.

We were questioned by Captain Freson and also by Audrahni. In fact it was Audrahni who asked the most questions and was most interested by the appearance of the ghost. Both she and the Freson were sure it was the ghost of Sir Roderic himself, founder of the town.

I had heard the stories about his ghost still haunting the Cove: defending it, some said, against threats. But to be honest I only half believed them and attributed most of the tales to excessive consumption of Possum’s fruit grog.

Audrahni noted that while most of us were new comers, we had taken it upon ourselves to try and prevent what could have been another violent confrontation. Because we had taken a special interest in the welfare of Roderic’s Cove, might we want to do more?

I looked around at the others gathered in a circle and realized she was right: most of us had only been in Roderic’s Cove for a handful of months, but we were the ones who had stepped up to take action when it was needed. And in so doing we appear to have forged a relationship with one another that united us as… well, as a team.

She asked to meet us over dinner at the Creekside — her treat (and who would say no to that?) — to discuss details of the recent developments. After she left and we were blinking at one another in surprise, I suggested we see which way the bandits (aka “Road Keepers”) had gone after the fled the Circle, and from whence they had arrived.

I have some skill as a tracker and was able to trace their route to (and from) the town center via from the ferry that provided a safe crossing over the mighty Chavali River. The woman who operated the ferry was still at her post. “Yes, those bandits crossed back over the river a short while ago,” she replied when I asked. Anybody who traveled in this region knew old Hallem and her devotion to running the ferry to all and sundry during daylight hours. I paid for a trip across the river and noted where the bandits’ tracks led into the forest on the far side. I was in no position to follow, and knowing the habits of bandits in general, suspected I was being watched. Hallem took me back across and volunteered that the Road Keepers had come across from that way earlier in the day.

We made our way to the Creekside, the only public house in Roderic’s Cove, for dinner with Audrahni. And that’s when she recruited our informal team to (informally) investigate the the activities of the Road Keepers and Hornfangs, and to find out why Sir Roderic’s ghost was not at peace.

The most startling news she shared was the state of the bodies from the last conflict between the rival groups. The casualties were all from the Hornfangs: six dead. But only one had physical wounds, and the others looked as if they died of fright.

Sunday, Sarenith 3, 4718 evening
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside Tavern and Inn

We split up early in the morning and spent the day nosing around town.

From the town guards Vlad learned that the leader of the Hornfangs was Jana Guildersleeves — daughter of the former town governor. But she’s kept a low profile since the deaths of her followers. They also thought the Roadkeepers called their leader “mother.” Cute.

I returned to Hallem and discovered that the Roadkeepers did not cross over the river (at least not by the ferry) on the day of the killings.

Jigu followed up on a lead about an eyewitness to the massacre: the young son of the town drunk. The boy provided an intriguing story in which the Roadkeepers played no part. He heard arguing from the Circle around midnight with a loud voice proclaiming, “You got no right. You are appropriating the Runelord symbol.” The man with the grievance had several friends with him and they were facing a woman, who drew a “broken sword” and pointed it at the man, who promptly fell. Then ghosts and monsters then appeared and killed the guy’s friends.

With the mention of a Runelord symbol it took no great leap to realize that a “horned fang” was an accurate description of the Rune of Wrath, and that Alasnist was the Runelord in question.

Vlad also discovered that the members of the Hornfangs that were rabble rousing in the Circle yesterday were nowhere to be found today. They had not shown up for work in the morning and nobody knew where they had gone.

We found Audrahni, reported our findings and told her we wanted to visit Sir Roderic’s old house (named by the locals, Roderic’s Wreck), which was a short walk out of town.

She told us that he and his family were attacked on the river and had all drowned. She then gave us a wand of Cure Light Wounds and some vials of holy water, just in case.

We decided to visit the Wreck the next morning.

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 noon
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside Tavern and Inn

Perhaps the more I see ghosts and spooks the more calm I’ll remain while around them. I certainly hope so. I know what to expect from hostile thugs and corporeal creatures and how to deal with them. But incorporeal wisps of whatever that like to play weird mental games? Not so much.

Before heading over to Roderic’s Wreck Vlad found that the missing Hornfangs were still absent. Are they hiding from fear or planning some secret action?

Roderic’s old home was once an elegant and stately manor house perched upon the Chavali. Now it’s a dilapidated shambling heap falling into the river.

And it’s pest ridden too.

Before we even entered the place we were set upon by stirges: those large buzzing mosquito like things that plagued swampy areas. We cleared those pests off, and then found the first two rooms of the house were infested with giant cockroaches and swarms of spiders. We killed the former and used their corpses to lure the latter into a room and locked them in.

I found a map secured to the bottom of a desk drawer in the first room, but none of us knew what it represented, other than a vague location for some hidden item marked by an X and the letters “ST.SH”.

I moved into what was the family room, and appropriately enough there was Sir Roderic and his family seated in the chairs and on the sofa. They looked peaceful and happy enough… until they noticed me. “Get Out!” Sir Roderic yelled. Who was I to intrude upon this scene of post mortem family bliss? I quickly left, letting the others know we had found not only Sir Roderic but the rest of his family as well.

Sadly the spirits were gone when my companions investigated the room.

“OK,” I thought, “Let’s check out the kitchen. What could be hiding in there?”

An oozing blob. We made quick work of it and went upstairs, leaving the closet under the stairs with its splashy sounds for later.

Our first stop was the master bedroom, where Sir Roderic appeared once again. But this Roderic was not an angry ghost, and pleaded with us to save the Cove and… er, a gauntlet. And for us to save “them.” I found a hidy hole in the floor which contained a high quality case that was lined with lead. Inside was a wad of gum holding a pair of keys, and the interior shape was for holding a sword. The name “Baraket” was engraved on a plaque on the case, which was (is?) the name of Xanderghul’s sword, and was known to have an invisible blade.

Now we had a link to the Runelord of Pride as well as Wrath.

In a nearby storage room we encountered a handful of giant undead cockroaches, which we dispatched after retreating from the room and forcing them to come at us one at a time. But we found nothing else of interest in the room.

Next was a lounge, but it looked as if it had been ransacked. A skeletal figure snapped into view and shrieked.

Nope. I quickly made my way out from the room and down the stairs before realizing I was probably better off with the rest of the team even if there were ghosts rather than on my own with whatever I might encounter.

My companions had moved on to a map making room by the time I returned, and Sir Roderic made another appearance. Fortunately this was the sad and needy ghost who once again pleaded with us, but this time with more details and less moaning (but still some).

“My map! They took my map. It holds the key. Baraket will control them and it will control you. The vault! I should have taken the gauntlet, but I ran. You should find the map and the keys. The gauntlets will protect you from Baraket.”

I held up the map I found downstairs, but Roderic simply moaned and shook his head, saying “That is not my map” before fading away. Pity we didn’t have a chance to show him the keys that came with Baraket’s case.

And so to recap, Sir Roderic wants us to find his map (not to be confused with the map we already have), some keys (which may or may not be the ones we have — my money is on not), and a pair of gauntlets. We have a map that identifies the relative location of something, but we don’t know what nor do we know where the map is for.

We entered the remaining unexplored upstairs room and saw it was a nursery. Oddly enough (or not, given where we were and all that we had encountered already) we heard the soft sound of someone whimpering.

A small skeletal child stepped out from behind a wicker crib and gushed, “It’s so lovely for you to come and play with me!”

You’d think that would be freaky enough, but no, the damned thing spoke with Shura’s voice.

Shura hit it. To be honest, I would have done the same and in fact did so at the first opportunity. We killed it. What else could we do?

We returned to the closet door downstairs and prepared for something bad to happen. An aqueous orb rolled out and splashed onto the hallway floor, bringing with it a number of items from the closet.

We explored a little bit outside, but we found nothing else of interest, other than the map we had found did not appear to be for the area around the house. Finally we returned to Roderic’s Cove for some lunch at the Creekside (and a shot or two of whiskey for me) and to update Audrahni on what happened at the house.

Mental note: remember to thank Audrahni for giving us the wand, which proved invaluable.

Droste, human Slayer

Droste was born in the year 4700 in the city of Riddleport to Roer and Heilzemé Vaassen. The couple own a manufacturing business in the Free Coin district that produces goods and tools used by the entertainment professions (especially gambling houses) that are prevalent in the quarter. While profitable, their shop is a front for the other services they offer, which involves “guard work” (mostly handled by Roer) and “redistribution of wealth” (mostly handled by Heilzemé). The Thieves Guild pays regular visits.

Both Droste and his older sister, Etienne, have been trained in all aspects of the family business. But while Etienne embraces following in their parents’ footsteps, Droste has other interests and other plans.

Droste has always been fascinated with Riddleport’s Cyphergate, which has developed into a keen interest in the Thassilonian empire and especially with the ruins scattered about Varisia. He was especially intrigued by the (relatively) recent exploits of a group of adventurer’s that had thwarted the return of the rune-lord Karzoug. When he found a copy of a journal that was purportedly written by a member of that team, he bought it, despite it being written in Shoanti, a language he could not at the time read.

A year ago Droste journeyed with his friend Fan Laarsted to see several Thassilonian ruins described in “The Journal”, starting in Sandpoint and working their way up to the Storval Stairs. He returned with Fan as far as Roderic’s Cove more than six months ago.

Since arriving in town Droste has worked as a guard for traders, merchants and travelers seeking extra protection on their way through the Churlwood, and has made numerous trips as far north as Riddleport (spending just enough time with his family so they don’t send someone out looking for him) and as far south as Magnimar.

This work is sporadic, and when not traveling he keeps his skills honed by volunteering under Captain Freson at the guard house.

He remains in Roderic’s Cove because he is fascinated with the Circle and the possibility of it being a Thassilonian ruin. He can be found at odd hours in the Circle poking about the paving stones — sometimes even laying down (to the amusement of passersby) to get a closer look.