A bright, low sun rose over the town of Sandpoint on the morning following the festival and the unexpected goblin attack. The townspeople had spent the night and early morning clearing the streets of any evidence of both events, and did their best to get on with their lives. Toilday morning, there would be a more subdued, indoor ceremony to officially dedicate the new temple; an event that sadly coincided with a small memorial service to honor the lives of the unfortunate few who had fallen during the raid. The bodies of slain goblins were carried outside of town and burned on a huge pyre, and those who had been captured were locked away out of sight of the commonfolk to await the consequences of their actions.
For those who had bravely defended the town against the raid, the morning marked a stark contrast from the relative anonymity of the previous day. Word of the local heroes had spread among the townsfolk and turned these six into overnight celebrities. Those staying at the Rusty Dragon would find themselves greeted by rounds of applause and offers of free food and drink as they emerged from their rooms and into the common area of the inn. Jan found herself the victim of lighthearted ribbing at the hands of Coleen and the bruise brothers at the Pixie's Kitten, as they teased her about her rising fame. Those who had returned to their caravans would find the troupe being approached by locals bearing gifts and seeking out the courageous goblinslayers to offer their thanks.
As you moved out into the streets you would find yourselves the center of attention, being pointed at by townsfolk who whispered to each other as you passed by, and being approached randomly by locals who called you by name and offered thanks in whatever way they knew how. Aneka Avertin of Sandpoint Saveries met you on Main Street with a plate of fresh baked delicacies. Local shop owners from every corner of Sandpoint invited you to stop by for special rewards or discounted items. Guardsmen approached seeking stories of battle and children frolicked along the side of the road wielding toy weapons and pretending to be you as they feigned combat.
If you stopped by the Cathedral to observe the ceremonies, you would find Father Zantus as thankful as ever, and offering up a prayer of thanks to the Great Dreamer in your name. Afterword, he would take you aside and present you with a special gift he had prepared for you overnight: six scrolls scribed in gold, each bearing the holy symbol of Desna and a short verse of healing.
The acolades continued as the sun crawled lazily across the sky and noon approached...