The link to join the campaign is private in our WhatsApp group. Please don't share it with others unless you've asked me first.
In and Out of Character Chat
IC (in character) chat should be clear within your post, by making the text "BOLD and in a colour of your choosing."
Any OOC (out of character) chat or questions can be made either at the end of your post (and clearly prefixed with OOC: ) or via our WhatsApp Group.
Post & Reply Etiquette
Though not always possible, please don't make 'generic' posts (e.g. "I attack the Goblin) or posts just containing a single dice roll. This is a story. Add some flair and sass!
I will post an initial scene set up or reaction to a character's choices etc. and then each person involved in that scene will be allowed up to 1 week to respond (unless otherwise stated). If the player does not respond within that time (and after I've given them a nudge via our chat), the scene will move on.
This may mean that a check, save or similar may automatically fail for that player, as it will be assumed that their character couldn't react in time or some external event happened in game to prevent them reacting if the player has not responded.
The replies will be on a first come first serve basis for the majority of the RP, so please make sure to acknowledge the actions of whoever has posted before you (where appropriate).
The exception to this is obviously during combat, where people will be expected to reply in initiative order.
Please remember that although this is a private game for our group, it is happening on a public forum so be mindful of what you post.
Be creative with any swearing instead of explicit content;
Any implied sexual situations are an automatic "fade to black" and move on;
Description of fantasy violence is allowed but any description of overt or implied sexual violence will gain you an instant removal from this campaign and any future campaigns I run.
We're all well aware that an element of species racism exists within the established D&D worlds between some cultures (knife-ear, grit-sucker, half-pint etc.) DO NOT take it any further than that. Actual racism, implied or overt will gain you the same removal as above.
Homophobia/transphobia or other associated bigotry is unacceptable in any form and will result in... you guessed it, removal from the game.
If you have any concerns, questions or issues with any content during the game, please speak to me and we will discuss what we can do to work around it or change it.
Dice Rolls
Given that D&D Beyond has now launched its digital dice roller directly on your character sheets, I don't mind whether you use the dice roller on this forum (top right corner of the toolbar) or the digital dice on your character sheet when I ask you to make a roll.
The D&D Beyond Player App also has the dice roller function if you have downloaded that.
I will have access to the game log for those rolls, and the forum has an anti-cheat function for its internal roller, so please don't try to amend your rolls... the DM is always watching. Bwa ha haaaa!
If you are using the forum roller for an attack or save etc. and you have made an error (not added the correct modifier etc.), just make a note against it and then roll again. Don't try to delete it as it will flag up on your post that you have tried to modify the result.
There is a pinned thread on the forms about how the dice function works here: Rolling Dice
Tagging actions
As per the main rules thread on the forum, please try to "tag" your actions where possible using the format below.
D&D Beyond offers the ability to link certain aspects on the forum in mouse-over triggered tooltips, such as magic items, monsters or combat actions - examples being Adult Black Dragon and dash. To create tooltips in this way as these, use the appropriate [tag][/tag] around the desired subject.
Example: [ magicitem]sunblade[/ magicitem] (Without spaces within the [ ] brackets.)
Ghosts of Saltmarsh is normally set within the world of Greyhawk. For the purposes of this campaign, I have translated it to Faerun and the Sword Coast.
Credit to Eventyr Games and Valeur RPG DM's Resources for assistance in translating the setting over, including the modification to Mike Schley's fantastic Sword Coast map to include Saltmarsh.
Saltmarsh is now situated almost perfectly halfway between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, close to the town of Leilon, and on the edge of the Mere of Dead Men.
The references to the king etc. has been replaced with the Lord's Alliance.
The Sea Princes now refers to pirates from Luskan.
I have attempted to make sure the setting all fits, but I'm not infallible. If I make a continuity error in the setting, please drop me a message and let me know.
I have made a number of homebrew alterations myself as well.
The campaign may contain some dark / horror elements during the course of the game, so please let me know if any point makes you feel uncomfortable or upsets you. We're here to have fun, not to hurt anyone.
Character Creation
Critical Role, Magic the Gathering & Eberron content is valid.
Homebrew creations, Playtest, Rick and Morty, Noncore and Acquisitions Incorporated content is removed.
Optional Class Features and Origin Customisation from Tasha's Cauldron is allowed.
Milestone advancement
Rolled Hit Points
Feats allowed
Multiclass requirements are on
Standard Encumbrance
Ignore Coin Weight
All classes valid (except as above)
No races with starting flying speed (Arakocra etc)
No Changling, Kenku or Simic Hybrid
All other races accepted
NOTE: Tieflings, Dragonborn and monstrous races are looked on with extreme suspicion in town and will be RP'd as such from NPC's
All background options included (except as above, as well as named backgrounds such as Izzet Agent)
The coastal fishing town of Saltmarsh is a bastion of civilization just north of the Mere of Dead Men along the Sword Coast of Faerûn. Without its stout defenders, it might have long ago fallen to the depredations of outsiders. A few decades ago, the town was subject to the raiding parties of piratical ships from Luskan and further afield, but now sits under the protection of the Lords Alliance.
Most of the land north of Saltmarsh is relatively safe for travelers, as are the roads that cut through the region. Small farms and manor houses dot the area, many maintained by army veterans who were granted land by decree. A number of small halfling villages are scattered around the area, located just off the main roads. Such locations consist of several farmhouses clustered around a pub that provides a warm welcome to visitors who come in peace. Once one journeys off the beaten path and into the Mere, however, a variety of threats emerge from the swampy wilderness.
Saltmarsh’s roughly five thousand residents are predominantly human; with a dwarven mining contingent of about two hundred workers as the largest non-human faction in town. Elves and halflings draw no special notice, since the Neverwinter Wood to the north and the Kryptgarden Forest to the east, host elven enclaves, and a few halfling villages are tucked in the hills around town. Gnomes are also a relatively unobtrusive sight, often seen travelling on the High Road from Neverwinter to Waterdeep.
However, the residents of the town, especially those who hold more traditional views or were alive during the piratical raids, react to other visitors with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Tieflings, dragonborn and other monstrous races, hold a special place of suspect interest on the rare occasions they venture into port.
Four miles east of Saltmarsh, just inland of the old coast road, stands a dilapidated old house house. Until twenty years ago, it had been the residence of an aged alchemist of sinister reputation. Even then, locals avoided the house because of its owner’s mysterious activities. Now, two decades after the unexplained disappearance of its occupant, the house has taken on an even greater air of evil and mystery. The locals say that unquiet spirits now dwell within, their ghostly wails carrying over the night air.
Dilapidated and long abandoned, the house presents an unwholesome appearance. Those hardy souls who have infrequently sought entry (pursuing rumours of a secret hoard of alchemical gold) all returned with naught save grim tales of decaying chambers presided over by monstrous perils. Indeed, such is the reputation of the house that the fields around it, though prime agricultural land, remain untended and rank with weeds.
These rumours have not gone unnoticed by those further afield either. Whispers have reached across the Sword Coast in many forms and it has been enough to pique the interest of the secretive organisation of The Harpers. A cell has been dispatched down from the city of Neverwinter to investigate the source of these rumours, and to try and uncover their origin and validity.
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
Four days you have all been in the restless fishing town of Saltmash. Four miserable, weather beaten days.
If somebody hadn't woken you each day at dawn, you'd be hard pressed to know the passing of days through the angry black clouds in the sky above. A coastal squall had blown in on your second day out from Neverwinter and hasn't let up since. Driving rain and howling wind have been pervasive and dishearteningly hindering since your arrival in town, almost confining you to your current lodgings within The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern.
Thankfully the innkeeper, a young human woman by the name of Hanna Rist, has been more than accommodating. The rooms are clean, the rates are reasonable and the food has been hearty and warming. On the few excursions you have had out into the larger town, to gain a lay of the land, a smattering of respect has been earned for the residents of Saltmarsh as they seem not to be hindered by such weather. Quite the reverse in fact. The local fishers are in high spirits as the feel in town is that this storm is a blessing of Umberlee, Goddess of the Oceans. Her tempest rage will bring about a bountiful catch when it subsides, so they are all waiting in baited anticipation for the first opportunity to launch back out on to the waves.
You have spent most of your days so far trying to learn what you can about the mysterious house on the outskirts of town, but have been met with little more than second or third hand drunken rumour in the vein of, "I knew a man who said...". Hanna has been more forthcoming with information, advising you to wait for a local by the name of Price Penrose, who usually frequents her tavern on the Tenday (tomorrow). He's the only man she knows that has visited the house in person, and is generally happy to regale visitor with his tale in exchange for an ale or three.
Of the town itself, you have learnt that in recent months, a contingent of dwarf miners on contract from the Lords of Waterdeep have moved into the town and set up mining operations to the north. This has spurred some tension between the locals, both on the common level and right up as far as the town council. The Rist family have managed to keep a somewhat neutral stance to it all so far, as they are happy to cater to any who come through town seeking shelter in their inn, but you've been cautioned to be on your guard to what you say in front of some people.
There are those who are welcoming to the newcomers, for the prospect of wealth and work that they bring along with closer ties to the city. On the other-hand, some here believe that the arrival of the dwarves will just lead to more meddling from the Lords Alliance guard and the ruin of their traditional way of life.
Each of you, in your own time, descend the stairs of the tavern to begin your fifth day in town. Hanna, dressed in a simple, white cotton blouse and tanned leather jerkin stands behind the bar, casually in light conversation with one of the locals, who has his back to you as he loudly chews his way through a breakfast of meats and eggs. The smell of fresh cooking permeates the bar; a welcome relief to the usual smell of brine, fish and seaweed that usually hangs in the air around town.
The rest of the tables in the tavern are fairly empty at this early hour, with only a couple of fellow travelers you recognise that accompanied your caravan from Neverwinter in the back corner, and an elderly, dark-skinned woman with her son seated at another. These two you recognise as one of the local trades, though which one and their names escapes you at the moment.
OOC: Please use this opportunity to introduce your character as they come down from a fourth night's rest in the Snapping Line Tavern.
Keith Blacktongue - A ruggedly handsome greying fellow with a glowing smile, bright eyes, long hair and a pointed white moustache that extends an inch and a half from his cheeks on either side. from a distance he appears to be dressed quite dapper but on closer inspection his clothing is a little frayed and tattered at the edges, he radiates an air of confidence owning the room should he choose to. he is slight of build and nimble, quick to talk and almost skittish in his actions, to the people he is talking to he comes across as endearing and charming, to observers from the outside he comes across as a bit mad and unbearably self assured and even fake at worst.
I descend the stairs with an air of confident flamboyance, "well good morning all" I announce, "hanna thanks again for the wonderful room, the sack cloth bedding reminds me of my youth, delightful"
approaching the table with the two trades folk and making eye contact with the pair "say.. I remember you, you're....." this must be your sister, (I smile charmingly at the older woman) "I was planning to come by and make a purchase of your excellent......." I say this, trying to probe their information while acting like I haven't completely forgotten their names or trade.
OOC: I roll persuasion in the hope that the two trader folk help re-furnish my memory, finishing my sentences without realising that I actually don't know..
Nyx Ningel - A small chaotic gnome with mischievous green eyes and fantastically pronounced nose. She looks rather wild to most who first meet her, with dishevelled long blonde hair filled with bits of leaves and twigs, and wearing worn green robes covered in mud. Despite her chaotic look and nature, she quickly wins over even the most downtrodden of souls with her sunny disposition and youthful optimism. After years of living like a hermit and deprived of company and conversation, she is eager to talk to anyone. She loves the world and delights in even the simplest of things - much to the utter confusion of others. Although she would be considered old by human standards, she is incredibly young for a gnome and her naivety often ends up getting her into trouble. She is quite fidgety and excitable in her movements, but her slight and small stature allows her to be stealthy when she needs to be.
I bounce down the stairs with an air of excitement and bound towards the bar. ‘Good morning Hanna! You’re cooking smells amazing as usual.’ I glance to the fellow sat beside me who is hunched over and devouring a plate of meats and eggs. ‘I’ll have what he’s having please. It looks delicious!’ I grin wildly at my new favourite innkeeper.
I glance around the room and spot Keith talking with two trades folks that I remember seeing around town. He looks deep in conversation, so rather than shouting over to him I just wave at him excitedly. I do wonder how he gets his moustache so pointy?
I turn to the fellow next to me. ‘Lovely weather we’re having don’t you think! I can’t wait to see what the fishers will bring in once the storm calms’.I shuffle closer to him hoping to make a new friend. ‘I’m Nyx Ningel by the way’, I grin at him and extend my hand hoping he might be in a jovial mood. ‘Pleasure to meet new friends in new places! What’s your name?...’
I hope he likes me enough that he gives me some useful local information.
‘I’m rather new in town, and I just can’t wait to explore more once the weather improves. Do you have any recommendations or interesting tales?...’
OOC: I roll persuasion and hope that I’ve charmed him enough to share some stories with me about himself and the local area.
Abdul Alhazared - A medium height human with rugged features hardened by a life time of the sea salt spraying his face walks down the stairs. He pulls the hood over his head to hide where his gaze might wander. While his companions take to announcing themselves loudly, he chose to quietly move around the room, looking not to attract attention to himself. He looks at the those eating food, but he know's the sea is the one who takes and provides. He gives a small nod to Hanna as thanks for her hospitality. Before venturing out into streets of Saltmarsh. He wonders the streets of the sea swept streets, towards the pier. He takes out his trusty fishing road, gives a prayer to the Fathomless before casting his line. He stands and patiently waits for the fish to bite, as he does he listens to the town around him. Hoping to pick up pieces of information from his fellow fisherman and engage them in conversation to find out more about any more strange occurrences going on in Saltmarsh.
"The Seas are churning, something displeases it. The waves crash ever more mercilessly because of it. What has caused the deep to be so unsettled?"
Had there been a way to monitor the passing of time accurately in Saltmarsh, it would have known that Alagon "Lucky" Stormstruck awoke at 03:23 in the morning. His silvery blue eyes wide with excitement, he had almost sensed the slight drop in temperature, the increase in humidity and flurry of static energy surge in the atmosphere. Alagon's instinctive affinity with meteorology told him a storm was brewing.
It is time
The deep, gravelly tones carried across the emptiness of the room. Alagon raised from his slumber. He stood 6'0" tall, ebony skinned, his toned physique reflective of his Turmish roots, the lean and slender visage crowned by long white spiked afro hair. Alagon left his room at The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern with only his vestment wrapped around his waist serving as a loin cloth. He was quiet and nimble for a human of the Turami, who tended to be bulwark fighters both strong and durable, Alagon was an oddity among his people he was wise, smart and for this morning at least as soft footed and nimble as any rigging monkey.
He knelt at the end of one of the nearby piers, closed his eyes and raised his hands to the heavens. Almost as if he'd commanded it, the rain beat down from the black clouds above. Alagon had not felt so close to his God, Valkur (The Captain of the Waves) since he was a young teen, struck by lighting and found by clerics. Alagon had survived the celestial assault and been hailed by the priests who discovered him and nursed him back to full health as Lucky. A year later, ironically Alagon was in the same spot of the coast he had been investigating the last time he was struck, a maelstrom opened above him and he was once again the target of heavens wrath. The clerics that found him, yet again alive, nursed him back to health but this time taking the series of events as an omen. After much meditation, prayer and divination the clerics decreed that Alagon must have been marked by a God of the Storm and he was fated to serve them, which God that was, only he could answer...
Alagon, took to the texts of the temple learning the ways and history of the land, praying and searching for a sign. His search eventually leading him to the Jewel of the North...Neverwinter. The great city had vast libraries and temples to almost every nomination, it was here in the city of skilled hands where Alagon read a text that would shape the course of his destiny whilst reading text of Umberlee's defeat by the hands of Valkur he had a flashback of the maelstrom that opened up above him a cloud and three strikes of lighting. He knew from that moment it was Valkur that was testing his strength, and durability to imbue him with the powers of the tempest!
Whilst that flashback was vivid, Alagon could not find the same connection to Valkur and the storms in the metropolis of Neverwinter, here in Saltmarsh however he could see, feel, maybe even hear Valkur presence. Alagon swayed rhythmically to the rain hitting his naked body, the rumble of the thunder and crackle of the distant lightning discharges.
As the last discharge was heard his body slumped to the wooden planks of the pier. He pushed himself back up nodding his head...
Yes, I understand, guide me lord of Wave and Winds in my duties here.
Alagon re-entered The snapping Line Inn and Tavern, the rain glistening off his body. Keith Blacktongue, Nyx Ningel and Abdul Alhazared were already up, they were all member of the Harpers like Alagon sent to investigate troubling rumors of a house and the restless dead. It seems Alagons compatriots had already began their duties; sweet talking or coaxing information from the locals. This was their arena and some the reason they had been picked for this assignment, Alagon's talents lay in assessing the information validity once obtained. He would watch the body language and the tone and vocal quality of the sources and glean what he could from the information divulged by the locals.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Melnir Flamefroge is a stoic Dwarf. Standing a respectable 4' 9" tall (Above average, he would say to anyone who inquires). In his outward appearance, most would think him unapproachable with is battle-hardened look and permanent scowl on his face and his perchance for carrying a large Greataxe easily as big as he is. That is a stark contrast to his personality...
On the outside he is a perpetually shirtless man with many scars across his chiselled physique, barely noticeable beneath his long braided ginger beard which spreads out and covers most of his broad chest. The opposite could be said of his head, nary a hair can be seen there, only more scars. On the inside, he is just as scarred as his outward appearance but he would never let that show to anyone. He hides his inner turmoil well with a jovial personality and large booming voice. His voice just demands attention when he would enter a room (Not that he does is on purpose, mind!).
—
Melnir awakes at dawn, or what could be perceived as dawn, with the rolling black clouds in the sky making it difficult to tell. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and the drool from his beard, sighs, rubbing his eyes and proclaims meekly.
"Ach, one too many flagons o' ale last night!"
He throws on his cloth pants, his leather boots and rearranges his beard braid that got crooked in the night and starts to head downstairs to the tavern room, leaving his gear and weapons in his room. His booming footsteps can be heard as he descends the stairs into the tavern, he sees Hanna prepping the bar for the days trade. Knowing what she is about to say , he interjects.
" 'old the meat and ale for a little while, 'anna my love! I'm just 'eading out for a walk around town before breakfast"
With that he exits the Inn and starts to head towards the docks, the heavy rain bouncing off his shirtless back as he walks. Once he gets to the docks he scowers the boats docked in the warf as much as he can in search of a ship captain to talk to.
Gabriel Tempus - An older unassuming man, his white bushy hair both adding years to his wrinkled, tanned skin all the while obscuring the majority of his face from those that may recognise him from a past he barely even remembere. To those who didn't know him, Tempus was simply the kindly old man, notunlike any number of other old men who were constant presences sat in the corner of any given tavern in any part of the world. But like all of those men, once upon a time, he'd been a very different being indeed.
Once upon a time, he'd been the guard-captain of a small township in the sword coast, until a particularly risky mission had cost him four men in one failed raid, his captainship and his health. Healers had done whet they could for him, but his advanced age meant that even when his wounds were closed, his strength had waned. Known for his prodigeous strength, after the event he found himself relying more and more on cunning and dexterity rather than power, and fell from a life focused on bringing justice to people to one of simply hunting wrong-doers. It wasn't long before he'd turned many of his old contacts in the seedier parts of the city to his side, and soon there was a network that covered practically covered the Sword Coast with people who could feed him information when asked, even if sometimes an arm or two needed to be twisted. Between that, and senses honed by a life time of fighting for order, bounty hunting was the obvious choice. After some time, he'd been brought to the attenion of the Harpers, and they'd recruited him into their ranks, yet another tool to be used. After a few smaller, successful mission, he and a group had been sent into Saltmarsh, to investigate some disturbing rumours. Gabriels first attempts to reach his contact had been worrying quiet. No-one had heard from the man who watched this place in sometime... Four days of searching the fishing village had so far uncovered... nothing, but the recommended contact would be here soon, and Gabriel was eager to pick his brain on the recent goings on...
---
Gabriel awoke in the tavern, having commandeered the comfiest bench nearest the fire the previous night. He had a room up on the fiorst floor, but having treated himself to a few flagons the night previous, the stairs seemed a little too treacherous to be trusted, and so he'd simply settled down wehre he sat.Besides, It never hurt to be on the ground floor. This way, he wouldn't miss anything.
"By Helms swinging b...Uh, Mace..." Gabriel caught himself, acknowledging the less crass company with a light nod of the head, smiling gently as a way to excuse himself. He pushed himself to his feet, old bones aching so early in the morn, before he'd limbered up. He turned to the gathered allies that the Harpers had assigned him to, nodding lightly to any that may have caught his eye, though they seemed pretty busy, the disarmingly enthusiastic gnome deep in conversation while his fellow old-timer was doing his best to glean some information from the local traders. Gabriel moved to the side of Alagon and sat casually, following his gaze.
"What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
The morning brings the familiar hammering of rain and wind upon the roof of The Snapping Line as the various members of the Harpers begin to gather themselves for the day ahead.
With an acknowledging nod in the direction of Keith as he descends the stairs, Hanna dismisses the offhand comment as he passes. "Well good morning all. Hanna, thanks again for the wonderful room, the sack cloth bedding reminds me of my youth, delightful".
A lifetime of tavern work amongst a population of sailors, smugglers and pirates, Hanna would count herself as a good judge of character and this one smelt of insincere charm. Conman, bard, brigand or thief; she wasn't sure but she knew the type. She wasn't one to judge though, everyone had to make their own way in the world and he'd been on good behaviour so far in her establishment, so she paid no further mind. She watched him head over to one of the other tables before returning to her own conversation.
"Say.. I remember you, you're.....", Keith let the sentence hang in the air as he approaches the table where an older, dark-skinned woman and a younger man sit quietly eating their breakfast.
"... Jasker." The male replies, his mouth half full of bread.
He's younger than than you had initially thought, but due to his sheer physical size, he could be anywhere between 15 and 25. Dressed in a tanned leather tunic and hardy, cloth pants, his arms are like tree-trunks and stood up, he'd probably stand well over 6 feet tall. His face is kindly and youthful though, the only real blemish on his chestnut coloured skin, being a scar on one cheek that looks like an old, healed burn. "This must be your sister. I was planning to come by and make a purchase of your excellent......."
Jasker looks over at the older woman sat with him and chuckles with genuine mirth. Noting the slight nod from the woman, Jasker responds in good humour, "This is my mother, Mafera, master smith of the Dwarven Anvil. Don't look much like a fisherman, so I know you're not after that. You're too foppish to be one of Eliander's Guard, so you're not after our swords. And you don't know my mother, so you're not local. Take a seat stranger. What ACTUALLY brings you to our dreary town? Roll?" Jasker kicks a chair out and motions for Keith to take a seat and offers out a plate of baked bread in his direction with a smile.
Dishing out another helping of food to the man at the bar, Hanna's face brightened as the energetic voice of Nyx carries over the tavern as she descends the stairs.
‘Good morning Hanna! You’re cooking smells amazing as usual. I’ll have what he’s having please. It looks delicious!’
Hanna had taken a real shine to the little gnome over this past few days. The rest of her travelling partners seemed quite surly in comparison, but she'd been nothing but joyful and complimentary since her arrival. It also helped that she had the appetite of a starved dog and never once complained at her cooking skills.
‘Lovely weather we’re having don’t you think! I can’t wait to see what the fishers will bring in once the storm calms. I’m Nyx Ningel by the way.Pleasure to meet new friends in new places! What’s your name?... I’m rather new in town, and I just can’t wait to explore more once the weather improves. Do you have any recommendations or interesting tales?..."
Watching the vibrant enthusiasm get nowhere with her regular, Hanna decides to take pity on the little one.
"Pay this surly fool no mind Nyx. You won't get nothing from him. He's nobody's friend this early in the morning. Ain't that right Ned?"Hanna laughed and nudged the plate of food. The man grunted noncommittally and shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. "His name's Ned Shakeshaft. He's a merchants' assistant and drunk, depending what time you catch him."
Hanna leaves for a few minutes before returning with your plate of meat and eggs. In the slightly awkward silence between, the man leans over the bar and grabs an extra tankard from behind, placing it in front of Nyx and fills it, as well as topping up his own, with a light mead from a pitcher in front of him. "Pay her no mind. I'm just not a morning person is all. You're one of that group down from Neverwinter ain't ya? Askin' 'bout the old Marsh Mansion? Weird place. Don't like it."
Choosing not to interact with the rest of his colleagues, Abdul heads out into the town and tries to make his way down to the docks in the storm. Though the rain has lessened this morning, the wind is still just as heavy, bringing a stinging bite to the gale as it whips up sea spray, brine and rain together.
4
Still being quite unfamiliar with the area, it takes you the best part of 20 minutes to find your way to the shore, taking a number of wrong turns.
Eventually you find one of the dock edges right on the inlet to river mouth that runs through the town centre. To your back is a grand looking mansion that looks out towards the piers, with a balcony that faces a number of the ships tied in heavy anchor against the storm. Though there appears to be a bit of activity upon the ships themselves, it doesn't appear that there is anyone on the dock in the harsh weather.
Making your way out on to one of the piers, the planks are slick and you struggle to keep your footing in the heavy winds. Taking a chance and casting your line out into the torrent, it takes only a few minutes for you to realise that this is a fools errand in such a heavy squall.
"The Seas are churning, something displeases it. The waves crash ever more mercilessly because of it. What has caused the deep to be so unsettled?"
Absentmindedly talking under your breath as you reel your line back in, a slowly blinking light catches your eye in the distance. At first it seems to be out into the churning sea itself, but as you focus you come to realise it isn't.
It emanates from further East along the coast, but definitely inland and up upon some sort of higher ground, though in this weather you can't make out exactly where. The light fades into view and then disappears repeatedly for a few minutes before going dark completely, almost like a small, dulled version of some ethereal lighthouse. Nobody has mentioned there being a formal lighthouse in the region though, as ships tend to rely on the lighting from the town itself to identify port.
As you turn to head back into the town and off the pier, a cold shiver runs up your spine and an ageless voice that has become all too familiar but still just as alien slips into your mind.
"Deep in the dark, the blinking of lights is a feast. But who has the teeth I wonder?"
As quickly as it comes, the sensation passes and all that remains is the howl of the wind and the sting of rain.
With a ringing head and a dry throat, Melnir heads downstairs and spots Hanna placing a plate of food before the chipper form of Nyx, but also spots Abdul heading out the door.
Deciding to follow on, rather than take food on a turbulent stomach, he calls out, " 'old the meat and ale for a little while, 'anna my love! I'm just 'eading out for a walk around town before breakfast"
The wind and the rain is harsh but refreshing on your face. In a matter of minutes though, you are soaked through as the beating weather is relentless.
2
Unsure of which way Abdul went, you head off towards the direction of the sea, or at least the direction you vaguely remember from your previous days in town.
Taking around 25 to 30 minutes, you manage to make your way down to one of the newer ports. This area smells heavily of fish and seafood. Word has it that many of the buildings around this location are used for the processing of the fishing catch.
Glancing around, there are a number of port workers that are already in the process of making ready the day's work. From your experience on the water and looking at the weather, you know that it is unlikely that the ships will launch today, so there aren't many ship hands loitering about.
You can approach one of the dock workers if you want, but there is no sign of anyone that looks like a captain.
Not the most common of sights, the half-naked form of Alagon walking through the town of Saltmarsh gathers more than a few curious glances. Though nobody approaches the tall figure, it's clear to see the confusion on the few folk up at this hour as they watch a man walk from the pier into town wearing nothing but a makeshift loincloth.
The reaction in the Snapping Line is not dissimilar either. Only Hanna, who has witnessed this odd process repeat over the last couple of days, is the only local who doesn't react with at least some element of shock as he enters back into the inn.
"What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?"
The gruff, hungover tones of Gabriel greet Alagon as he stands in the entranceway. The older man looks like he never did make it up to his room the night before.
Alagon & Gabriel, feel free to make a few posts to RP out your IC conversation. I don't need to input much to your previous posts yet.
OOC: Feel free to make your next posts everyone. If you want to interact together, you can make a few posts back and forth. If I spot something that needs me to input, I'll jump in.
Keeping a note of the vague direction that the ethereal light source came from Abdul decided to return to the tavern. Deciding to speak with the locals to find someone far more knowledgeable about the area so he may ask what lay in the direction of the light he saw. On the journey back he replays the words he heard in his head over and over, drawing into his mind if he could make a connection of what those words might mean.
Alagon had not long arrived at The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern. He surveyed the floor, spotting a number of the local patrons and regulars. Mingled among them Alagon had spotted Keith Blacktongue, presumably sweet talking or swindling, Alagon wasn't quite sure, two traders. Nyx at the bar ordering what was to be, Alagon was sure, the most filling and enjoyable item on the menu. Adul had, Alagon was sure passed him and left the Tavern almost immediately, maybe be was giving thanks for the storm too Alagon mused.
Where was his other Harper comrade, Gabriel? The query was soon answered by the sound of Gabriel's hungover voice booming across the Tavern "By Helm's swinging b..."
Alagon within the short pause that followed Gabriel's exclamation, cast Gabriel a quizzical glance, whilst attempting to hold back a huge smile, the glance almost asked the question for him, Please Gabriel do tell Helm's swinging what?.
In answer to the glance Gabriel recovered and responded "Uh, Mace..."
Alagon dropped his head, to hide the smile he could no longer contain, collected himself and raised his head with a more pious and dignified appearance befitting a cleric, as Gabriel moved towards him.
Alagon had a deep respect for Gabriel, partly due to his age which in Turmish society was taught at an early stage with the "elders" of the village teaching the youngsters everything from general survival, history and folk-law to combat. Gabriel not only had the experience that only come with age but also years of service as a soldier which Alagon also respected. There was however a final source of the respect Alagon held for Gabriel, his name...when Alagon was searching the history pages and scriptures in Neverwinter he had come across many tales and exploits of Tempus the Lord of Battles. Alagons own God Valkur was an exarch of Tempus, it was for this reason that Alagon's respect was so deep despite the comparatively short time the pair had spent together. Was this merely just a name sake or was it the Gods design? Alagon wasnt sure but in the meantime he would respect and serve Gabriel the way Valkur would Tempus and no doubt the Gods plans would eventually reveal themselves.
Gabriel had in this time of Alagon's contemplation closed the distance between the bench by the fire to were he was stood. "What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?" Gabriel asked.
Alagon wiped away with his hand the rain running off his hair onto his face and in that deep melodic voice answered...
Good morning Gabriel, truly the Vigilant One will be please that his faithful call out in his honor first thing in the morning so soon after his return. Were the beds here, also not to your liking?
Alagon's pious facade ended at the culmination of his question as the grin broke through again, in an attempt to hide the smile yet again Alagon pushed through the smile answering Gabriels query.
Ahem, I am sure the locals have plenty to hide,...but in relation to our questions and en devours i believe the locals have little to offer us beyond that which we have already been told. Although i admire our friends commitment to these investigations, i fear the wrong questions are being asked to the wrong people. Many of the locals refer to one person who has visited the 'haunted' house personally, a Price Penrose who Hanna has already informs us frequents this tavern.
Alagon scans the room for a moment turns to Gabriel and suggests,
We should gather our compatriots, find out where this Penrose lives or stays in town or ask Hanna what he looks like and when we could expect to see him. Or do you think a different course of action would be more prudent?
With a ringing head and a dry throat, Melnir heads downstairs and spots Hanna placing a plate of food before the chipper form of Nyx, but also spots Abdul heading out the door.
Deciding to follow on, rather than take food on a turbulent stomach, he calls out, " 'old the meat and ale for a little while, 'anna my love! I'm just 'eading out for a walk around town before breakfast"
The wind and the rain is harsh but refreshing on your face. In a matter of minutes though, you are soaked through as the beating weather is relentless.
2
Unsure of which way Abdul went, you head off towards the direction of the sea, or at least the direction you vaguely remember from your previous days in town.
Taking around 25 to 30 minutes, you manage to make your way down to one of the newer ports. This area smells heavily of fish and seafood. Word has it that many of the buildings around this location are used for the processing of the fishing catch.
Glancing around, there are a number of port workers that are already in the process of making ready the day's work. From your experience on the water and looking at the weather, you know that it is unlikely that the ships will launch today, so there aren't many ship hands loitering about.
You can approach one of the dock workers if you want, but there is no sign of anyone that looks like a captain.
Upon realising again that this is a lost cause and the rain is unlikely to subside, he starts to head back to the Inn muttering under his breath.
"Bloody cretins... we would be on deck in any weather. A bit of water never stopped us...!
Arriving back at the Inn, he shakes himself off and saunters up to the bar, dripping all the way. He sees Nyx and Hanna having a conversation, pulls up a high stool and plops himself down ready to feast.
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'"
He looks toward Nyx and sees her conversing with a man at the table, but then notices her full plate of food currently gone untouched.
"Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
As he says this, Hanna arrived with a fresh plate of food which he proceeds to pick it up by the handful and shove it into his mouth, getting debris all over his face and beard, then draining the entire tankard of ale in one long gulp.
OOC: I'd like to chime in on Nyx's conversation, where applicable.
I take a hearty bite of the crusty bread, Its tough and much harder than I am used to but I politely chew through the pain and try not to choke as I wash it down half chewed with a mouthful of ale.
Iye Jasker, Sorry I should have known lad, Its hard for an old socialite to keep up these days, I remember now, I was looking to ask you a couple questions if you dont mind, You look like you know the folks coming and goings around here better than most.
I close in the distance over the table and speak in a hushed tone
We are supposed to be meeting a Price Penrose on the morrow, he has information about a certain house off the old coast road, What do you know of this fella? you think we can trust him?
Also you seem like a sensible bunch.. what do you think about the disappearance of the alchemist? everyone seems to have their own story around here, its hard to know what to believe.
I sit back into my chair and straighten my collar awaiting a response.
Dishing out another helping of food to the man at the bar, Hanna's face brightened as the energetic voice of Nyx carries over the tavern as she descends the stairs.
‘Good morning Hanna! You’re cooking smells amazing as usual. I’ll have what he’s having please. It looks delicious!’
Hanna had taken a real shine to the little gnome over this past few days. The rest of her travelling partners seemed quite surly in comparison, but she'd been nothing but joyful and complimentary since her arrival. It also helped that she had the appetite of a starved dog and never once complained at her cooking skills.
‘Lovely weather we’re having don’t you think! I can’t wait to see what the fishers will bring in once the storm calms. I’m Nyx Ningel by the way.Pleasure to meet new friends in new places! What’s your name?... I’m rather new in town, and I just can’t wait to explore more once the weather improves. Do you have any recommendations or interesting tales?..."
Watching the vibrant enthusiasm get nowhere with her regular, Hanna decides to take pity on the little one.
"Pay this surly fool no mind Nyx. You won't get nothing from him. He's nobody's friend this early in the morning. Ain't that right Ned?" Hanna laughed and nudged the plate of food. The man grunted noncommittally and shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. "His name's Ned Shakeshaft. He's a merchants' assistant and drunk, depending what time you catch him."
Hanna leaves for a few minutes before returning with your plate of meat and eggs. In the slightly awkward silence between, the man leans over the bar and grabs an extra tankard from behind, placing it in front of Nyx and fills it, as well as topping up his own, with a light mead from a pitcher in front of him. "Pay her no mind. I'm just not a morning person is all. You're one of that group down from Neverwinter ain't ya? Askin' 'bout the old Marsh Mansion? Weird place. Don't like it."
“I like you already Ned!” I grin stupidly at the large tankard of mead he places in front of me. “Cheers!” I clink it gently against his, trying not to spill any, before taking a giant gulp.
“And I know what you mean. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like mornings around here!” I try not to chuckle as I glance quickly towards Gabriel who clearly spent a very uncomfortable night next to the fire.
I am momentarily distracted however by a large plate of meat and eggs placed in front of me. My mouth instantly starts watering. Hanna really does make a mean breakfast! “Thank you Hanna!” I smile, before quickly shovelling a large helping of egg into my mouth and washing it down with an even bigger gulp of mead.
“I’ve heard lots of things since coming here about Marsh Mansion”, I turn back to Ned and hope his momentary friendliness, even if slightly rough around the edges, lasts long enough that he wants to carry on talking to me.
“I’ve heard there used to be a shady alchemist who lived there. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?” I ask hopefully, while tearing into the delicious meat on my plate.
“Have you ever gone up there?” I ask with my mouth still half full. I can’t stop gorging on my breakfast. Hanna’s cooking is divine!
“I’ve also heard that there’s spirits there too, but I’ve yet to see any proof! What about you Ned? Have you seen or heard anything?”
“I like to know all I can about a place before I go exploring”, I add very quickly, hoping I haven’t put him off by bombarding him with too many questions.
I’ve been told I can be a bit ‘over-enthused’ in a morning. I can’t help it though. Mornings are glorious, despite what some in her travel party might think.
I go to grab another mouthful of food, but am bitterly disappointed to see that my plate is empty.
I turn back to Ned instead. “Hanna said that one of the locals... Primrose? Penrose? Anyway, she said that he’s actually visited the house. I’m really interested to hear what he saw up there. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to him before? I wonder what he’s like?”
I jump slightly at the scrapping of a bar stool next to me. I turn quickly and spot my larger than life comrade Melnir. The dwarf might look rough around the edges, but I can’t help but like him. Maybe it was because we were a lot shorter than the rest of our company, or maybe it was because we were cheerier, but I’ve definitely taken a shine to him.
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'"
Ah breakfast. How I wish I still had some.
"Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
I look down slightly confused and spot a fresh hot plate of food. I must have been so lost in conversation that I didn’t even spot that Hanna had cleared away my empty plate and replaced it with another large portion.
“Thank you Hanna!” I shout over-enthusiastically over the bar. This woman really was a life saver!
“Keep up Melnir!”I shovel another large mouthful of eggs into my mouth as I try to outpace him. “I’m already on my second plate”, I smile as smugly as I can with my cheeks filled with food. “Let’s see who can eat the most today!”
Gabriel settled down beside Alagon, casting his eye not only over the tavern workers and guests, but his own companions, all but one already deep into investigation, still trying to eke out some small form of information, something they may have missed the last few days. Every little helps, and he did love to see such enthusiasm for discovery, but...
"Aye, can't fault them for wanting to be thorough, but it seems pretty clear the only solid leads we['re goiing to get are from this Price fella... And even if we do find out where they live, it's doubtful they'll be home..."Gabriel stroked his beard lightly in thought, pondering through their options"...As tempting as having an independent search of the property is, we'd risk finding nothing *and* turning Price against us, and then the only damned connection we have to this mysterious alchemist is in the wind... I think I'm with you. Gather the troops, settle in and wait for this Penrose to show themselves, and hope to Helm they're a help to us."
He shrugged, lifting one leg over the other in a relaxed pose, and glanced from one party member to the other. Helpfully, they were only waiting on one other to come back before they were all gathered, and it wasn't like he could have got far. The fishing village was hardly expansive, and beyond its limits you had either sea of swamps. Neither hugely worth exploring without some hint as to where to start. It worried Gabriel how little they'd managed to unearth after days of questioning, but that was sometimes the way in these little coastal villages. Friendly locals who would tell you the history of their own family going back to settling, but wouldn't so much as share their neighbours first names without bribery, let alone the darker secrets.
"One things for sure... There's no reason not to join the others in a meal... perhaps a drink or three, hm? What do you say, priest? I'm buying!"
With that Gabriel shifted slowly back to his feet and headed to the bar to join Nyx and Melnir, waving a greeting to them as he got closer and ordered his own breakfast.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?"
“I like you already Ned!” I grin stupidly at the large tankard of mead he places in front of me. “Cheers!” I clink it gently against his, trying not to spill any, before taking a giant gulp.
“And I know what you mean. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like mornings around here!” I try not to chuckle as I glance quickly towards Gabriel who clearly spent a very uncomfortable night next to the fire.
I am momentarily distracted however by a large plate of meat and eggs placed in front of me. My mouth instantly starts watering. Hanna really does make a mean breakfast! “Thank you Hanna!” I smile, before quickly shovelling a large helping of egg into my mouth and washing it down with an even bigger gulp of mead.
“I’ve heard lots of things since coming here about Marsh Mansion”, I turn back to Ned and hope his momentary friendliness, even if slightly rough around the edges, lasts long enough that he wants to carry on talking to me.
“I’ve heard there used to be a shady alchemist who lived there. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?” I ask hopefully, while tearing into the delicious meat on my plate.
“Have you ever gone up there?” I ask with my mouth still half full. I can’t stop gorging on my breakfast. Hanna’s cooking is divine!
“I’ve also heard that there’s spirits there too, but I’ve yet to see any proof! What about you Ned? Have you seen or heard anything?”
“I like to know all I can about a place before I go exploring”, I add very quickly, hoping I haven’t put him off by bombarding him with too many questions.
I’ve been told I can be a bit ‘over-enthused’ in a morning. I can’t help it though. Mornings are glorious, despite what some in her travel party might think.
I go to grab another mouthful of food, but am bitterly disappointed to see that my plate is empty.
I turn back to Ned instead. “Hanna said that one of the locals... Primrose? Penrose? Anyway, she said that he’s actually visited the house. I’m really interested to hear what he saw up there. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to him before? I wonder what he’s like?”
I jump slightly at the scrapping of a bar stool next to me. I turn quickly and spot my larger than life comrade Melnir. The dwarf might look rough around the edges, but I can’t help but like him. Maybe it was because we were a lot shorter than the rest of our company, or maybe it was because we were cheerier, but I’ve definitely taken a shine to him.
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'"
Ah breakfast. How I wish I still had some.
"Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
I look down slightly confused and spot a fresh hot plate of food. I must have been so lost in conversation that I didn’t even spot that Hanna had cleared away my empty plate and replaced it with another large portion.
“Thank you Hanna!” I shout over-enthusiastically over the bar. This woman really was a life saver!
“Keep up Melnir!”I shovel another large mouthful of eggs into my mouth as I try to outpace him. “I’m already on my second plate”, I smile as smugly as I can with my cheeks filled with food. “Let’s see who can eat the most today!”
Persuasion: 8
“Keep up Melnir!”
“Let’s see who can eat the most today!”
Realising that I'm already behind on breakfast, I start to shovel more food into my mouth by the handful. My sense of decorum (or lack thereof) gone out of the window. I must be the one who wins today. I have to admit, for someone smaller than me, that little gnome can eat!
"You're on lassie! There'll be no losin' on my side today!"I say scooping the last handful of crumbs off my plate and slathering them down my mouth and beard. "Loser pays for the lot again, right?" I wink.
I place the now squeaky clean plate back on the bar, down what is left in my ale tankard and slam it down on the bar hard with a loud clang!
"'anna, me love. I'm determined to beat this bottomless pit o' adorableness today. Another one on the double!" I say waving my now empty tankard in Hanna's general direction. Grinning from ear to ear.
"We've got to do somethin' while we wait for this damn storm to pass and..." I start to yell but then trail off, nearly giving our intentions about waiting for Prince Penrose to the entire tavern. You never know who might be listening. We might scare the bloke off if we realises our entire party is after what information he has in his noggin.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?" I hear as the unassuming older human gentleman of our party joins us at the bar.
I think back to my journey through town and remember I lost sight of him pretty quickly in the deluge. I turn to Gabriel and say "Mornin' Gabe. I lost 'im in the downpour. It's a mess out there, see..." I shake my body, water and food spraying off my beard in all directions. Be 'ard-pressed to see your 'and in front of your face in this weather... He'll be back in time! In the meantime... Breakfast!"
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
Ned turns towards the exuberant and talkative Nyx, his tankard half way to his mouth. An expression of bafflement and mild irritation crosses his face, as with each question that bombards him from the little gnome, it seems like there is another already notched in her bow ready to be released.
“I’ve heard lots of things since coming here about Marsh Mansion”, “I’ve heard there used to be a shady alchemist who lived there. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?” “Have you ever gone up there?” “I’ve also heard that there’s spirits there too, but I’ve yet to see any proof! What about you Ned? Have you seen or heard anything?” “I like to know all I can about a place before I go exploring” “Hanna said that one of the locals... Primrose? Penrose? Anyway, she said that he’s actually visited the house. I’m really interested to hear what he saw up there. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to him before? I wonder what he’s like?”
Like the wind and rain outside the barrage of questions continued without relent, yet somehow between it all, the gnome had managed to devour an entire plate of Hanna's hearty grub before he'd even gotten through half and had even had a second served to her. Where was she even putting it?
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'. Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
A visible wave of relief seemed to wash over Ned as the surlier dwarf took a seat at the bar next to the gnome, momentarily distracting her. In the brief respite, Ned tried to go back over the questions he'd been assaulted with before grunting an answer.
"As I say, it's a weird place that mansion. Gives me the creeps. I've not been here that long, 'bout two seasons now working for old Primewater. Don't much care for the town to be honest, but the trade's better here than over in Leilon. More coin to be earned." Ned says with mirth. "But every bugger in this place is scared of that damned house. An for good reason too I hear. 'Orrible screams an' such you can 'ear coming from it sometimes if ya' get too close. Not been that way myself, but I wouldn't mind a helpin' of that treasure that's bound to be up there. You know what wizard and conjurin' folk are like for their hoarding."
Draining his tankard and rising from his chair, Ned stuffs a last handful of bacon into his mouth before dropping a few silver pieces on to the bar with a nod to Hanna. “Can’t be hangin’ round here chattering like fishwives though. Got work to do. Price can tell ya’ more. Couple of drinks in him and the bloody trick is getting him to STOP telling you. The fat idiot thinks he’s some sorta adventurer now because he apparently snuck into the place. Need to get my stuff in order.”And with that, Ned turns to walk out of the bar.
Nyx and Melnir: Please make an insight check
Taking the seat just vacated by Ned, Gabriel places himself down at the bar with is compatriots, Alagon in tow not far behind. Hanna begins to clear away the plate and tankard that Ned had been using, and replaces it with a couple of fresh cups for the two men as they approach.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?"
"Mornin' Gabe. I lost 'im in the downpour. It's a mess out there, see... Be 'ard-pressed to see your 'and in front of your face in this weather... He'll be back in time! In the meantime, breakfast!"
No sooner has Melnir responded, that the door to the tavern swings open with the wind and rain driving it harder than expected, almost clipping Ned as he has to step to one side to avoid being hit. Through the door steps a particularly damp and windswept Abdul as he returns to the tavern. Ned hurriedly pushes past, muttering under his breath as he exits.
Abdul: Make a perception check as you enter the room
“Aye Jasker, sorry I should have known lad. It’s hard for an old socialite to keep up these days, I remember now, I was looking to ask you a couple questions if you don’t mind. You look like you know the folks coming and goings around here better than most.
We are supposed to be meeting a Price Penrose on the morrow, he has information about a certain house off the old coast road, what do you know of this fella? You think we can trust him? Also, you seem like a sensible bunch... what do you think about the disappearance of the alchemist? Everyone seems to have their own story around here, it’s hard to know what to believe.”
Jasker and Mafera exchange glances for a brief moment before laughing pleasantly. It is Mafera that speaks up first though. Much like her aged but hardy appearance, her voice is similarly weathered from a life spent around coal forges. “Price? He’s a drunk and a boast, but a nice enough chap. I’d take what he has to say with a pinch of salt though. Every time he’s told that bloody tale of his ‘daring escape’ from Marsh Mansion, I swear he adds another eerie beasty to it. Couple weeks from now, swear he’ll be fighting off a kraken with his hands in shackles and a swagger in his step.”She laughs again.
“But the alchemist? Been gone near on… what? Must be 20 years now. It were before I had Jasker here, so yeah, must be about 20 years. Why’d you ask?”A momentary pause hangs in the air before Mafera sits back suddenly. “Wait? You’re not thinking about heading up to the House are ya?”
The shock of the realisation is clear on both of their faces and is mingled with obvious concern, before Jasker continues where his mother left off. His voice rises louder than before, enough to carry across the tavern.
“You can’t go to the manor. ‘ts haunted! Everyone knows that! Cleric Wellgar himself said that it’s a cursed place!”
It’s clear to see that the idea does not sit well with either of them and their body language is far more standoffish than the previous good humour that they had greeted you with.
OOC: A couple of you have been asked to make some rolls. If you can let me know what the results are before you write your post, I will let you know the outcome and update it on here so you can react accordingly.
"You're on lassie! There'll be no losin' on my side today!"I say scooping the last handful of crumbs off my plate and slathering them down my mouth and beard. "Loser pays for the lot again, right?"I wink.
I place the now squeaky clean plate back on the bar, down what is left in my ale tankard and slam it down on the bar hard with a loud clang!
"'anna, me love. I'm determined to beat this bottomless pit o' adorableness today. Another one on the double!"I say waving my now empty tankard in Hanna's general direction. Grinning from ear to ear.
"We've got to do somethin' while we wait for this damn storm to pass and..."I start to yell but then trail off, nearly giving our intentions about waiting for Prince Penrose to the entire tavern. You never know who might be listening. We might scare the bloke off if we realises our entire party is after what information he has in his noggin.
Sensing the direction of Melnir’s thoughts, I quickly raise my large tankard and shout “...And what better way than in the company of such good friends, both old and new!”I grin at Melnir, unable to keep the mirth from my face.
I clink my tankard against his and guzzle another large mouthful of the delicious mead which Ned has kindly given me... Which reminds me!
“Talking of friends old and new,” I nudge Melnir with my small bony elbow and nod my head towards where Ned was currently brooding over his breakfast.
“Mel, this is my new friend Ned!”I whisper loudly, although it comes out louder than I intended in my excitement. “Ned here is a local merchant’s assistant, and great company in the mornings!”I smirk to myself as he still doesn’t seem to be handling the day any better.
In the brief respite, Ned tried to go back over the questions he'd been assaulted with before grunting an answer.
"As I say, it's a weird place that mansion. Gives me the creeps. I've not been here that long, 'bout two seasons now working for old Primewater. Don't much care for the town to be honest, but the trade's better here than over in Leilon. More coin to be earned."Ned says with mirth. "But every bugger in this place is scared of that damned house. An for good reason too I hear. 'Orrible screams an' such you can 'ear coming from it sometimes if ya' get too close. Not been that way myself, but I wouldn't mind a helpin' of that treasure that's bound to be up there. You know what wizard and conjurin' folk are like for their hoarding."
Draining his tankard and rising from his chair, Ned stuffs a last handful of bacon into his mouth before dropping a few silver pieces on to the bar with a nod to Hanna. “Can’t be hangin’ round here chattering like fishwives though. Got work to do. Price can tell ya’ more. Couple of drinks in him and the bloody trick is getting him to STOP telling you. The fat idiot thinks he’s some sorta adventurer now because he apparently snuck into the place. Need to get my stuff in order.”And with that, Ned turns to walk out of the bar.
Insight: 20
“Thanks for the mead Ned!” I shout across the tavern as Ned walks towards the door. “Hey, if you’re heading back this way once you’re done, the next round is on me!”
I watch uneasily as he strides towards the door.
Taking the seat just vacated by Ned, Gabriel places himself down at the bar with is compatriots, Alagon in tow not far behind. Hanna begins to clear away the plate and tankard that Ned had been using, and replaces it with a couple of fresh cups for the two men as they approach.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?"
"Mornin' Gabe. I lost 'im in the downpour. It's a mess out there, see... Be 'ard-pressed to see your 'and in front of your face in this weather... He'll be back in time! In the meantime, breakfast!"
No sooner has Melnir responded, that the door to the tavern swings open with the wind and rain driving it harder than expected, almost clipping Ned as he has to step to one side to avoid being hit. Through the door steps a particularly damp and windswept Abdul as he returns to the tavern. Ned hurriedly pushes past, muttering under his breath as he exits.
I watch as Ned bustles past Abdul and disappears into the tempestuous weather. My gut rumbles in agitation, not at the piles of food Hanna keeps placing in front of me, but at the bizarre manner in which Ned fled the tavern.
I nudge Melnir with my elbow again to get his attention, and turn towards Gabriel and Alagon.
“What do you make of Ned?”I nod towards the door that has just slammed shut behind him. I hope that my companions might be able to soothe the uneasiness I now feel about the weird fellow.
He had, after all, been kind enough to share his drink with me.
His voice rises louder than before, enough to carry across the tavern.
“You can’t go to the manor. ‘ts haunted! Everyone knows that! Cleric Wellgar himself said that it’s a cursed place!”
It’s clear to see that the idea does not sit well with either of them and their body language is far more standoffish than the previous good humour that they had greeted you with.
I turn suddenly in my chair at the sound of raised voices and look over to where Keith was sat with two seemingly distressed trades folk.
“Oh, this can’t be good,” I turn back to my companions in alarm.
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Session 0 Housekeeping
Play by Post General Rules and Notes
In and Out of Character Chat
Post & Reply Etiquette
Dice Rolls
Tagging actions
D&D Beyond offers the ability to link certain aspects on the forum in mouse-over triggered tooltips, such as magic items, monsters or combat actions - examples being Adult Black Dragon and dash. To create tooltips in this way as these, use the appropriate [tag][/tag] around the desired subject.
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sense - a type of extra sense, whether magical or natural - e.g. darkvision, tremorsense and truesight
skill - this is used for professions - e.g. Persuasion, Stealth
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Campaign Setting
Character Creation
Players & Characters
Jamie - Gabriel Tempus, Human Rogue(retired)Chapter 1
The coastal fishing town of Saltmarsh is a bastion of civilization just north of the Mere of Dead Men along the Sword Coast of Faerûn. Without its stout defenders, it might have long ago fallen to the depredations of outsiders. A few decades ago, the town was subject to the raiding parties of piratical ships from Luskan and further afield, but now sits under the protection of the Lords Alliance.
Most of the land north of Saltmarsh is relatively safe for travelers, as are the roads that cut through the region. Small farms and manor houses dot the area, many maintained by army veterans who were granted land by decree. A number of small halfling villages are scattered around the area, located just off the main roads. Such locations consist of several farmhouses clustered around a pub that provides a warm welcome to visitors who come in peace. Once one journeys off the beaten path and into the Mere, however, a variety of threats emerge from the swampy wilderness.
Saltmarsh’s roughly five thousand residents are predominantly human; with a dwarven mining contingent of about two hundred workers as the largest non-human faction in town. Elves and halflings draw no special notice, since the Neverwinter Wood to the north and the Kryptgarden Forest to the east, host elven enclaves, and a few halfling villages are tucked in the hills around town. Gnomes are also a relatively unobtrusive sight, often seen travelling on the High Road from Neverwinter to Waterdeep.
However, the residents of the town, especially those who hold more traditional views or were alive during the piratical raids, react to other visitors with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Tieflings, dragonborn and other monstrous races, hold a special place of suspect interest on the rare occasions they venture into port.
Four miles east of Saltmarsh, just inland of the old coast road, stands a dilapidated old house house. Until twenty years ago, it had been the residence of an aged alchemist of sinister reputation. Even then, locals avoided the house because of its owner’s mysterious activities. Now, two decades after the unexplained disappearance of its occupant, the house has taken on an even greater air of evil and mystery. The locals say that unquiet spirits now dwell within, their ghostly wails carrying over the night air.
Dilapidated and long abandoned, the house presents an unwholesome appearance. Those hardy souls who have infrequently sought entry (pursuing rumours of a secret hoard of alchemical gold) all returned with naught save grim tales of decaying chambers presided over by monstrous perils. Indeed, such is the reputation of the house that the fields around it, though prime agricultural land, remain untended and rank with weeds.
These rumours have not gone unnoticed by those further afield either. Whispers have reached across the Sword Coast in many forms and it has been enough to pique the interest of the secretive organisation of The Harpers. A cell has been dispatched down from the city of Neverwinter to investigate the source of these rumours, and to try and uncover their origin and validity.
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
Four days you have all been in the restless fishing town of Saltmash. Four miserable, weather beaten days.
If somebody hadn't woken you each day at dawn, you'd be hard pressed to know the passing of days through the angry black clouds in the sky above. A coastal squall had blown in on your second day out from Neverwinter and hasn't let up since. Driving rain and howling wind have been pervasive and dishearteningly hindering since your arrival in town, almost confining you to your current lodgings within The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern.
Thankfully the innkeeper, a young human woman by the name of Hanna Rist, has been more than accommodating. The rooms are clean, the rates are reasonable and the food has been hearty and warming. On the few excursions you have had out into the larger town, to gain a lay of the land, a smattering of respect has been earned for the residents of Saltmarsh as they seem not to be hindered by such weather. Quite the reverse in fact. The local fishers are in high spirits as the feel in town is that this storm is a blessing of Umberlee, Goddess of the Oceans. Her tempest rage will bring about a bountiful catch when it subsides, so they are all waiting in baited anticipation for the first opportunity to launch back out on to the waves.
You have spent most of your days so far trying to learn what you can about the mysterious house on the outskirts of town, but have been met with little more than second or third hand drunken rumour in the vein of, "I knew a man who said...". Hanna has been more forthcoming with information, advising you to wait for a local by the name of Price Penrose, who usually frequents her tavern on the Tenday (tomorrow). He's the only man she knows that has visited the house in person, and is generally happy to regale visitor with his tale in exchange for an ale or three.
Of the town itself, you have learnt that in recent months, a contingent of dwarf miners on contract from the Lords of Waterdeep have moved into the town and set up mining operations to the north. This has spurred some tension between the locals, both on the common level and right up as far as the town council. The Rist family have managed to keep a somewhat neutral stance to it all so far, as they are happy to cater to any who come through town seeking shelter in their inn, but you've been cautioned to be on your guard to what you say in front of some people.
There are those who are welcoming to the newcomers, for the prospect of wealth and work that they bring along with closer ties to the city. On the other-hand, some here believe that the arrival of the dwarves will just lead to more meddling from the Lords Alliance guard and the ruin of their traditional way of life.
Each of you, in your own time, descend the stairs of the tavern to begin your fifth day in town. Hanna, dressed in a simple, white cotton blouse and tanned leather jerkin stands behind the bar, casually in light conversation with one of the locals, who has his back to you as he loudly chews his way through a breakfast of meats and eggs. The smell of fresh cooking permeates the bar; a welcome relief to the usual smell of brine, fish and seaweed that usually hangs in the air around town.
The rest of the tables in the tavern are fairly empty at this early hour, with only a couple of fellow travelers you recognise that accompanied your caravan from Neverwinter in the back corner, and an elderly, dark-skinned woman with her son seated at another. These two you recognise as one of the local trades, though which one and their names escapes you at the moment.
OOC: Please use this opportunity to introduce your character as they come down from a fourth night's rest in the Snapping Line Tavern.
Keith Blacktongue - A ruggedly handsome greying fellow with a glowing smile, bright eyes, long hair and a pointed white moustache that extends an inch and a half from his cheeks on either side. from a distance he appears to be dressed quite dapper but on closer inspection his clothing is a little frayed and tattered at the edges, he radiates an air of confidence owning the room should he choose to. he is slight of build and nimble, quick to talk and almost skittish in his actions, to the people he is talking to he comes across as endearing and charming, to observers from the outside he comes across as a bit mad and unbearably self assured and even fake at worst.
I descend the stairs with an air of confident flamboyance, "well good morning all" I announce, "hanna thanks again for the wonderful room, the sack cloth bedding reminds me of my youth, delightful"
approaching the table with the two trades folk and making eye contact with the pair "say.. I remember you, you're....."
this must be your sister, (I smile charmingly at the older woman)
"I was planning to come by and make a purchase of your excellent......."
I say this, trying to probe their information while acting like I haven't completely forgotten their names or trade.
OOC: I roll persuasion in the hope that the two trader folk help re-furnish my memory, finishing my sentences without realising that I actually don't know..
Persuasion roll 19
Nyx Ningel - A small chaotic gnome with mischievous green eyes and fantastically pronounced nose. She looks rather wild to most who first meet her, with dishevelled long blonde hair filled with bits of leaves and twigs, and wearing worn green robes covered in mud. Despite her chaotic look and nature, she quickly wins over even the most downtrodden of souls with her sunny disposition and youthful optimism. After years of living like a hermit and deprived of company and conversation, she is eager to talk to anyone. She loves the world and delights in even the simplest of things - much to the utter confusion of others. Although she would be considered old by human standards, she is incredibly young for a gnome and her naivety often ends up getting her into trouble. She is quite fidgety and excitable in her movements, but her slight and small stature allows her to be stealthy when she needs to be.
I bounce down the stairs with an air of excitement and bound towards the bar. ‘Good morning Hanna! You’re cooking smells amazing as usual.’ I glance to the fellow sat beside me who is hunched over and devouring a plate of meats and eggs. ‘I’ll have what he’s having please. It looks delicious!’ I grin wildly at my new favourite innkeeper.
I glance around the room and spot Keith talking with two trades folks that I remember seeing around town. He looks deep in conversation, so rather than shouting over to him I just wave at him excitedly. I do wonder how he gets his moustache so pointy?
I turn to the fellow next to me. ‘Lovely weather we’re having don’t you think! I can’t wait to see what the fishers will bring in once the storm calms’. I shuffle closer to him hoping to make a new friend. ‘I’m Nyx Ningel by the way’, I grin at him and extend my hand hoping he might be in a jovial mood. ‘Pleasure to meet new friends in new places! What’s your name?...’
I hope he likes me enough that he gives me some useful local information.
‘I’m rather new in town, and I just can’t wait to explore more once the weather improves. Do you have any recommendations or interesting tales?...’
OOC: I roll persuasion and hope that I’ve charmed him enough to share some stories with me about himself and the local area.
Persuasion: 15
Abdul Alhazared - A medium height human with rugged features hardened by a life time of the sea salt spraying his face walks down the stairs. He pulls the hood over his head to hide where his gaze might wander. While his companions take to announcing themselves loudly, he chose to quietly move around the room, looking not to attract attention to himself. He looks at the those eating food, but he know's the sea is the one who takes and provides. He gives a small nod to Hanna as thanks for her hospitality. Before venturing out into streets of Saltmarsh. He wonders the streets of the sea swept streets, towards the pier. He takes out his trusty fishing road, gives a prayer to the Fathomless before casting his line. He stands and patiently waits for the fish to bite, as he does he listens to the town around him. Hoping to pick up pieces of information from his fellow fisherman and engage them in conversation to find out more about any more strange occurrences going on in Saltmarsh.
"The Seas are churning, something displeases it. The waves crash ever more mercilessly because of it. What has caused the deep to be so unsettled?"
Perception: 20
Persuasion: 19
Had there been a way to monitor the passing of time accurately in Saltmarsh, it would have known that Alagon "Lucky" Stormstruck awoke at 03:23 in the morning. His silvery blue eyes wide with excitement, he had almost sensed the slight drop in temperature, the increase in humidity and flurry of static energy surge in the atmosphere. Alagon's instinctive affinity with meteorology told him a storm was brewing.
It is time
The deep, gravelly tones carried across the emptiness of the room. Alagon raised from his slumber. He stood 6'0" tall, ebony skinned, his toned physique reflective of his Turmish roots, the lean and slender visage crowned by long white spiked afro hair. Alagon left his room at The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern with only his vestment wrapped around his waist serving as a loin cloth. He was quiet and nimble for a human of the Turami, who tended to be bulwark fighters both strong and durable, Alagon was an oddity among his people he was wise, smart and for this morning at least as soft footed and nimble as any rigging monkey.
He knelt at the end of one of the nearby piers, closed his eyes and raised his hands to the heavens. Almost as if he'd commanded it, the rain beat down from the black clouds above. Alagon had not felt so close to his God, Valkur (The Captain of the Waves) since he was a young teen, struck by lighting and found by clerics. Alagon had survived the celestial assault and been hailed by the priests who discovered him and nursed him back to full health as Lucky. A year later, ironically Alagon was in the same spot of the coast he had been investigating the last time he was struck, a maelstrom opened above him and he was once again the target of heavens wrath. The clerics that found him, yet again alive, nursed him back to health but this time taking the series of events as an omen. After much meditation, prayer and divination the clerics decreed that Alagon must have been marked by a God of the Storm and he was fated to serve them, which God that was, only he could answer...
Alagon, took to the texts of the temple learning the ways and history of the land, praying and searching for a sign. His search eventually leading him to the Jewel of the North...Neverwinter. The great city had vast libraries and temples to almost every nomination, it was here in the city of skilled hands where Alagon read a text that would shape the course of his destiny whilst reading text of Umberlee's defeat by the hands of Valkur he had a flashback of the maelstrom that opened up above him a cloud and three strikes of lighting. He knew from that moment it was Valkur that was testing his strength, and durability to imbue him with the powers of the tempest!
Whilst that flashback was vivid, Alagon could not find the same connection to Valkur and the storms in the metropolis of Neverwinter, here in Saltmarsh however he could see, feel, maybe even hear Valkur presence. Alagon swayed rhythmically to the rain hitting his naked body, the rumble of the thunder and crackle of the distant lightning discharges.
As the last discharge was heard his body slumped to the wooden planks of the pier. He pushed himself back up nodding his head...
Yes, I understand, guide me lord of Wave and Winds in my duties here.
Alagon re-entered The snapping Line Inn and Tavern, the rain glistening off his body. Keith Blacktongue, Nyx Ningel and Abdul Alhazared were already up, they were all member of the Harpers like Alagon sent to investigate troubling rumors of a house and the restless dead. It seems Alagons compatriots had already began their duties; sweet talking or coaxing information from the locals. This was their arena and some the reason they had been picked for this assignment, Alagon's talents lay in assessing the information validity once obtained. He would watch the body language and the tone and vocal quality of the sources and glean what he could from the information divulged by the locals.
Melnir Flamefroge is a stoic Dwarf. Standing a respectable 4' 9" tall (Above average, he would say to anyone who inquires). In his outward appearance, most would think him unapproachable with is battle-hardened look and permanent scowl on his face and his perchance for carrying a large Greataxe easily as big as he is. That is a stark contrast to his personality...
On the outside he is a perpetually shirtless man with many scars across his chiselled physique, barely noticeable beneath his long braided ginger beard which spreads out and covers most of his broad chest. The opposite could be said of his head, nary a hair can be seen there, only more scars. On the inside, he is just as scarred as his outward appearance but he would never let that show to anyone. He hides his inner turmoil well with a jovial personality and large booming voice. His voice just demands attention when he would enter a room (Not that he does is on purpose, mind!).
—
Melnir awakes at dawn, or what could be perceived as dawn, with the rolling black clouds in the sky making it difficult to tell. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and the drool from his beard, sighs, rubbing his eyes and proclaims meekly.
"Ach, one too many flagons o' ale last night!"
He throws on his cloth pants, his leather boots and rearranges his beard braid that got crooked in the night and starts to head downstairs to the tavern room, leaving his gear and weapons in his room. His booming footsteps can be heard as he descends the stairs into the tavern, he sees Hanna prepping the bar for the days trade. Knowing what she is about to say , he interjects.
" 'old the meat and ale for a little while, 'anna my love! I'm just 'eading out for a walk around town before breakfast"
With that he exits the Inn and starts to head towards the docks, the heavy rain bouncing off his shirtless back as he walks. Once he gets to the docks he scowers the boats docked in the warf as much as he can in search of a ship captain to talk to.
Perception 12
Gabriel Tempus - An older unassuming man, his white bushy hair both adding years to his wrinkled, tanned skin all the while obscuring the majority of his face from those that may recognise him from a past he barely even remembere. To those who didn't know him, Tempus was simply the kindly old man, notunlike any number of other old men who were constant presences sat in the corner of any given tavern in any part of the world. But like all of those men, once upon a time, he'd been a very different being indeed.
Once upon a time, he'd been the guard-captain of a small township in the sword coast, until a particularly risky mission had cost him four men in one failed raid, his captainship and his health. Healers had done whet they could for him, but his advanced age meant that even when his wounds were closed, his strength had waned. Known for his prodigeous strength, after the event he found himself relying more and more on cunning and dexterity rather than power, and fell from a life focused on bringing justice to people to one of simply hunting wrong-doers. It wasn't long before he'd turned many of his old contacts in the seedier parts of the city to his side, and soon there was a network that covered practically covered the Sword Coast with people who could feed him information when asked, even if sometimes an arm or two needed to be twisted. Between that, and senses honed by a life time of fighting for order, bounty hunting was the obvious choice. After some time, he'd been brought to the attenion of the Harpers, and they'd recruited him into their ranks, yet another tool to be used. After a few smaller, successful mission, he and a group had been sent into Saltmarsh, to investigate some disturbing rumours. Gabriels first attempts to reach his contact had been worrying quiet. No-one had heard from the man who watched this place in sometime... Four days of searching the fishing village had so far uncovered... nothing, but the recommended contact would be here soon, and Gabriel was eager to pick his brain on the recent goings on...
---
Gabriel awoke in the tavern, having commandeered the comfiest bench nearest the fire the previous night. He had a room up on the fiorst floor, but having treated himself to a few flagons the night previous, the stairs seemed a little too treacherous to be trusted, and so he'd simply settled down wehre he sat.Besides, It never hurt to be on the ground floor. This way, he wouldn't miss anything.
"By Helms swinging b...Uh, Mace..." Gabriel caught himself, acknowledging the less crass company with a light nod of the head, smiling gently as a way to excuse himself. He pushed himself to his feet, old bones aching so early in the morn, before he'd limbered up. He turned to the gathered allies that the Harpers had assigned him to, nodding lightly to any that may have caught his eye, though they seemed pretty busy, the disarmingly enthusiastic gnome deep in conversation while his fellow old-timer was doing his best to glean some information from the local traders. Gabriel moved to the side of Alagon and sat casually, following his gaze.
"What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?"
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
The morning brings the familiar hammering of rain and wind upon the roof of The Snapping Line as the various members of the Harpers begin to gather themselves for the day ahead.
With an acknowledging nod in the direction of Keith as he descends the stairs, Hanna dismisses the offhand comment as he passes. "Well good morning all. Hanna, thanks again for the wonderful room, the sack cloth bedding reminds me of my youth, delightful".
A lifetime of tavern work amongst a population of sailors, smugglers and pirates, Hanna would count herself as a good judge of character and this one smelt of insincere charm. Conman, bard, brigand or thief; she wasn't sure but she knew the type. She wasn't one to judge though, everyone had to make their own way in the world and he'd been on good behaviour so far in her establishment, so she paid no further mind. She watched him head over to one of the other tables before returning to her own conversation.
"Say.. I remember you, you're.....", Keith let the sentence hang in the air as he approaches the table where an older, dark-skinned woman and a younger man sit quietly eating their breakfast.
"... Jasker." The male replies, his mouth half full of bread.
He's younger than than you had initially thought, but due to his sheer physical size, he could be anywhere between 15 and 25. Dressed in a tanned leather tunic and hardy, cloth pants, his arms are like tree-trunks and stood up, he'd probably stand well over 6 feet tall. His face is kindly and youthful though, the only real blemish on his chestnut coloured skin, being a scar on one cheek that looks like an old, healed burn.
"This must be your sister. I was planning to come by and make a purchase of your excellent......."
Jasker looks over at the older woman sat with him and chuckles with genuine mirth. Noting the slight nod from the woman, Jasker responds in good humour, "This is my mother, Mafera, master smith of the Dwarven Anvil. Don't look much like a fisherman, so I know you're not after that. You're too foppish to be one of Eliander's Guard, so you're not after our swords. And you don't know my mother, so you're not local. Take a seat stranger. What ACTUALLY brings you to our dreary town? Roll?" Jasker kicks a chair out and motions for Keith to take a seat and offers out a plate of baked bread in his direction with a smile.
Dishing out another helping of food to the man at the bar, Hanna's face brightened as the energetic voice of Nyx carries over the tavern as she descends the stairs.
‘Good morning Hanna! You’re cooking smells amazing as usual. I’ll have what he’s having please. It looks delicious!’
Hanna had taken a real shine to the little gnome over this past few days. The rest of her travelling partners seemed quite surly in comparison, but she'd been nothing but joyful and complimentary since her arrival. It also helped that she had the appetite of a starved dog and never once complained at her cooking skills.
‘Lovely weather we’re having don’t you think! I can’t wait to see what the fishers will bring in once the storm calms. I’m Nyx Ningel by the way. Pleasure to meet new friends in new places! What’s your name?... I’m rather new in town, and I just can’t wait to explore more once the weather improves. Do you have any recommendations or interesting tales?..."
Watching the vibrant enthusiasm get nowhere with her regular, Hanna decides to take pity on the little one.
"Pay this surly fool no mind Nyx. You won't get nothing from him. He's nobody's friend this early in the morning. Ain't that right Ned?" Hanna laughed and nudged the plate of food. The man grunted noncommittally and shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. "His name's Ned Shakeshaft. He's a merchants' assistant and drunk, depending what time you catch him."
Hanna leaves for a few minutes before returning with your plate of meat and eggs. In the slightly awkward silence between, the man leans over the bar and grabs an extra tankard from behind, placing it in front of Nyx and fills it, as well as topping up his own, with a light mead from a pitcher in front of him. "Pay her no mind. I'm just not a morning person is all. You're one of that group down from Neverwinter ain't ya? Askin' 'bout the old Marsh Mansion? Weird place. Don't like it."
Choosing not to interact with the rest of his colleagues, Abdul heads out into the town and tries to make his way down to the docks in the storm. Though the rain has lessened this morning, the wind is still just as heavy, bringing a stinging bite to the gale as it whips up sea spray, brine and rain together.
4
Still being quite unfamiliar with the area, it takes you the best part of 20 minutes to find your way to the shore, taking a number of wrong turns.
Eventually you find one of the dock edges right on the inlet to river mouth that runs through the town centre. To your back is a grand looking mansion that looks out towards the piers, with a balcony that faces a number of the ships tied in heavy anchor against the storm. Though there appears to be a bit of activity upon the ships themselves, it doesn't appear that there is anyone on the dock in the harsh weather.
Making your way out on to one of the piers, the planks are slick and you struggle to keep your footing in the heavy winds. Taking a chance and casting your line out into the torrent, it takes only a few minutes for you to realise that this is a fools errand in such a heavy squall.
"The Seas are churning, something displeases it. The waves crash ever more mercilessly because of it. What has caused the deep to be so unsettled?"
Absentmindedly talking under your breath as you reel your line back in, a slowly blinking light catches your eye in the distance. At first it seems to be out into the churning sea itself, but as you focus you come to realise it isn't.
It emanates from further East along the coast, but definitely inland and up upon some sort of higher ground, though in this weather you can't make out exactly where. The light fades into view and then disappears repeatedly for a few minutes before going dark completely, almost like a small, dulled version of some ethereal lighthouse. Nobody has mentioned there being a formal lighthouse in the region though, as ships tend to rely on the lighting from the town itself to identify port.
As you turn to head back into the town and off the pier, a cold shiver runs up your spine and an ageless voice that has become all too familiar but still just as alien slips into your mind.
"Deep in the dark, the blinking of lights is a feast. But who has the teeth I wonder?"
As quickly as it comes, the sensation passes and all that remains is the howl of the wind and the sting of rain.
With a ringing head and a dry throat, Melnir heads downstairs and spots Hanna placing a plate of food before the chipper form of Nyx, but also spots Abdul heading out the door.
Deciding to follow on, rather than take food on a turbulent stomach, he calls out, " 'old the meat and ale for a little while, 'anna my love! I'm just 'eading out for a walk around town before breakfast"
The wind and the rain is harsh but refreshing on your face. In a matter of minutes though, you are soaked through as the beating weather is relentless.
2
Unsure of which way Abdul went, you head off towards the direction of the sea, or at least the direction you vaguely remember from your previous days in town.
Taking around 25 to 30 minutes, you manage to make your way down to one of the newer ports. This area smells heavily of fish and seafood. Word has it that many of the buildings around this location are used for the processing of the fishing catch.
Glancing around, there are a number of port workers that are already in the process of making ready the day's work. From your experience on the water and looking at the weather, you know that it is unlikely that the ships will launch today, so there aren't many ship hands loitering about.
You can approach one of the dock workers if you want, but there is no sign of anyone that looks like a captain.
Not the most common of sights, the half-naked form of Alagon walking through the town of Saltmarsh gathers more than a few curious glances. Though nobody approaches the tall figure, it's clear to see the confusion on the few folk up at this hour as they watch a man walk from the pier into town wearing nothing but a makeshift loincloth.
The reaction in the Snapping Line is not dissimilar either. Only Hanna, who has witnessed this odd process repeat over the last couple of days, is the only local who doesn't react with at least some element of shock as he enters back into the inn.
"What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?"
The gruff, hungover tones of Gabriel greet Alagon as he stands in the entranceway. The older man looks like he never did make it up to his room the night before.
Alagon & Gabriel, feel free to make a few posts to RP out your IC conversation. I don't need to input much to your previous posts yet.
OOC: Feel free to make your next posts everyone. If you want to interact together, you can make a few posts back and forth. If I spot something that needs me to input, I'll jump in.
Keeping a note of the vague direction that the ethereal light source came from Abdul decided to return to the tavern. Deciding to speak with the locals to find someone far more knowledgeable about the area so he may ask what lay in the direction of the light he saw. On the journey back he replays the words he heard in his head over and over, drawing into his mind if he could make a connection of what those words might mean.
Alagon had not long arrived at The Snapping Line Inn and Tavern. He surveyed the floor, spotting a number of the local patrons and regulars. Mingled among them Alagon had spotted Keith Blacktongue, presumably sweet talking or swindling, Alagon wasn't quite sure, two traders. Nyx at the bar ordering what was to be, Alagon was sure, the most filling and enjoyable item on the menu. Adul had, Alagon was sure passed him and left the Tavern almost immediately, maybe be was giving thanks for the storm too Alagon mused.
Where was his other Harper comrade, Gabriel? The query was soon answered by the sound of Gabriel's hungover voice booming across the Tavern "By Helm's swinging b..."
Alagon within the short pause that followed Gabriel's exclamation, cast Gabriel a quizzical glance, whilst attempting to hold back a huge smile, the glance almost asked the question for him, Please Gabriel do tell Helm's swinging what?.
In answer to the glance Gabriel recovered and responded "Uh, Mace..."
Alagon dropped his head, to hide the smile he could no longer contain, collected himself and raised his head with a more pious and dignified appearance befitting a cleric, as Gabriel moved towards him.
Alagon had a deep respect for Gabriel, partly due to his age which in Turmish society was taught at an early stage with the "elders" of the village teaching the youngsters everything from general survival, history and folk-law to combat. Gabriel not only had the experience that only come with age but also years of service as a soldier which Alagon also respected. There was however a final source of the respect Alagon held for Gabriel, his name...when Alagon was searching the history pages and scriptures in Neverwinter he had come across many tales and exploits of Tempus the Lord of Battles. Alagons own God Valkur was an exarch of Tempus, it was for this reason that Alagon's respect was so deep despite the comparatively short time the pair had spent together. Was this merely just a name sake or was it the Gods design? Alagon wasnt sure but in the meantime he would respect and serve Gabriel the way Valkur would Tempus and no doubt the Gods plans would eventually reveal themselves.
Gabriel had in this time of Alagon's contemplation closed the distance between the bench by the fire to were he was stood. "What do you think, priest? Any of the locals look like they're trying to hide anything from us today?" Gabriel asked.
Alagon wiped away with his hand the rain running off his hair onto his face and in that deep melodic voice answered...
Good morning Gabriel, truly the Vigilant One will be please that his faithful call out in his honor first thing in the morning so soon after his return. Were the beds here, also not to your liking?
Alagon's pious facade ended at the culmination of his question as the grin broke through again, in an attempt to hide the smile yet again Alagon pushed through the smile answering Gabriels query.
Ahem, I am sure the locals have plenty to hide,...but in relation to our questions and en devours i believe the locals have little to offer us beyond that which we have already been told. Although i admire our friends commitment to these investigations, i fear the wrong questions are being asked to the wrong people. Many of the locals refer to one person who has visited the 'haunted' house personally, a Price Penrose who Hanna has already informs us frequents this tavern.
Alagon scans the room for a moment turns to Gabriel and suggests,
We should gather our compatriots, find out where this Penrose lives or stays in town or ask Hanna what he looks like and when we could expect to see him. Or do you think a different course of action would be more prudent?
Upon realising again that this is a lost cause and the rain is unlikely to subside, he starts to head back to the Inn muttering under his breath.
"Bloody cretins... we would be on deck in any weather. A bit of water never stopped us...!
Arriving back at the Inn, he shakes himself off and saunters up to the bar, dripping all the way. He sees Nyx and Hanna having a conversation, pulls up a high stool and plops himself down ready to feast.
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'"
He looks toward Nyx and sees her conversing with a man at the table, but then notices her full plate of food currently gone untouched.
"Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
As he says this, Hanna arrived with a fresh plate of food which he proceeds to pick it up by the handful and shove it into his mouth, getting debris all over his face and beard, then draining the entire tankard of ale in one long gulp.
I take a hearty bite of the crusty bread, Its tough and much harder than I am used to but I politely chew through the pain and try not to choke as I wash it down half chewed with a mouthful of ale.
Iye Jasker, Sorry I should have known lad, Its hard for an old socialite to keep up these days, I remember now, I was looking to ask you a couple questions if you dont mind, You look like you know the folks coming and goings around here better than most.
I close in the distance over the table and speak in a hushed tone
We are supposed to be meeting a Price Penrose on the morrow, he has information about a certain house off the old coast road, What do you know of this fella? you think we can trust him?
Also you seem like a sensible bunch.. what do you think about the disappearance of the alchemist? everyone seems to have their own story around here, its hard to know what to believe.
I sit back into my chair and straighten my collar awaiting a response.
“I like you already Ned!” I grin stupidly at the large tankard of mead he places in front of me. “Cheers!” I clink it gently against his, trying not to spill any, before taking a giant gulp.
“And I know what you mean. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like mornings around here!” I try not to chuckle as I glance quickly towards Gabriel who clearly spent a very uncomfortable night next to the fire.
I am momentarily distracted however by a large plate of meat and eggs placed in front of me. My mouth instantly starts watering. Hanna really does make a mean breakfast! “Thank you Hanna!” I smile, before quickly shovelling a large helping of egg into my mouth and washing it down with an even bigger gulp of mead.
“I’ve heard lots of things since coming here about Marsh Mansion”, I turn back to Ned and hope his momentary friendliness, even if slightly rough around the edges, lasts long enough that he wants to carry on talking to me.
“I’ve heard there used to be a shady alchemist who lived there. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?” I ask hopefully, while tearing into the delicious meat on my plate.
“Have you ever gone up there?” I ask with my mouth still half full. I can’t stop gorging on my breakfast. Hanna’s cooking is divine!
“I’ve also heard that there’s spirits there too, but I’ve yet to see any proof! What about you Ned? Have you seen or heard anything?”
“I like to know all I can about a place before I go exploring”, I add very quickly, hoping I haven’t put him off by bombarding him with too many questions.
I’ve been told I can be a bit ‘over-enthused’ in a morning. I can’t help it though. Mornings are glorious, despite what some in her travel party might think.
I go to grab another mouthful of food, but am bitterly disappointed to see that my plate is empty.
I turn back to Ned instead. “Hanna said that one of the locals... Primrose? Penrose? Anyway, she said that he’s actually visited the house. I’m really interested to hear what he saw up there. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to him before? I wonder what he’s like?”
I jump slightly at the scrapping of a bar stool next to me. I turn quickly and spot my larger than life comrade Melnir. The dwarf might look rough around the edges, but I can’t help but like him. Maybe it was because we were a lot shorter than the rest of our company, or maybe it was because we were cheerier, but I’ve definitely taken a shine to him.
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'"
Ah breakfast. How I wish I still had some.
"Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
I look down slightly confused and spot a fresh hot plate of food. I must have been so lost in conversation that I didn’t even spot that Hanna had cleared away my empty plate and replaced it with another large portion.
“Thank you Hanna!” I shout over-enthusiastically over the bar. This woman really was a life saver!
“Keep up Melnir!” I shovel another large mouthful of eggs into my mouth as I try to outpace him. “I’m already on my second plate”, I smile as smugly as I can with my cheeks filled with food. “Let’s see who can eat the most today!”
Persuasion: 8
Gabriel settled down beside Alagon, casting his eye not only over the tavern workers and guests, but his own companions, all but one already deep into investigation, still trying to eke out some small form of information, something they may have missed the last few days. Every little helps, and he did love to see such enthusiasm for discovery, but...
"Aye, can't fault them for wanting to be thorough, but it seems pretty clear the only solid leads we['re goiing to get are from this Price fella... And even if we do find out where they live, it's doubtful they'll be home..." Gabriel stroked his beard lightly in thought, pondering through their options "...As tempting as having an independent search of the property is, we'd risk finding nothing *and* turning Price against us, and then the only damned connection we have to this mysterious alchemist is in the wind... I think I'm with you. Gather the troops, settle in and wait for this Penrose to show themselves, and hope to Helm they're a help to us."
He shrugged, lifting one leg over the other in a relaxed pose, and glanced from one party member to the other. Helpfully, they were only waiting on one other to come back before they were all gathered, and it wasn't like he could have got far. The fishing village was hardly expansive, and beyond its limits you had either sea of swamps. Neither hugely worth exploring without some hint as to where to start. It worried Gabriel how little they'd managed to unearth after days of questioning, but that was sometimes the way in these little coastal villages. Friendly locals who would tell you the history of their own family going back to settling, but wouldn't so much as share their neighbours first names without bribery, let alone the darker secrets.
"One things for sure... There's no reason not to join the others in a meal... perhaps a drink or three, hm? What do you say, priest? I'm buying!"
With that Gabriel shifted slowly back to his feet and headed to the bar to join Nyx and Melnir, waving a greeting to them as he got closer and ordered his own breakfast.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?"
“Keep up Melnir!”
“Let’s see who can eat the most today!”
Realising that I'm already behind on breakfast, I start to shovel more food into my mouth by the handful. My sense of decorum (or lack thereof) gone out of the window. I must be the one who wins today. I have to admit, for someone smaller than me, that little gnome can eat!
"You're on lassie! There'll be no losin' on my side today!" I say scooping the last handful of crumbs off my plate and slathering them down my mouth and beard. "Loser pays for the lot again, right?" I wink.
I place the now squeaky clean plate back on the bar, down what is left in my ale tankard and slam it down on the bar hard with a loud clang!
"'anna, me love. I'm determined to beat this bottomless pit o' adorableness today. Another one on the double!" I say waving my now empty tankard in Hanna's general direction. Grinning from ear to ear.
"We've got to do somethin' while we wait for this damn storm to pass and..." I start to yell but then trail off, nearly giving our intentions about waiting for Prince Penrose to the entire tavern. You never know who might be listening. We might scare the bloke off if we realises our entire party is after what information he has in his noggin.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?" I hear as the unassuming older human gentleman of our party joins us at the bar.
I think back to my journey through town and remember I lost sight of him pretty quickly in the deluge. I turn to Gabriel and say "Mornin' Gabe. I lost 'im in the downpour. It's a mess out there, see..." I shake my body, water and food spraying off my beard in all directions. Be 'ard-pressed to see your 'and in front of your face in this weather... He'll be back in time! In the meantime... Breakfast!"
Date: Early morning, 19 Tarsakh (19th of the Claw of Storms), 1492DR
Ned turns towards the exuberant and talkative Nyx, his tankard half way to his mouth. An expression of bafflement and mild irritation crosses his face, as with each question that bombards him from the little gnome, it seems like there is another already notched in her bow ready to be released.
“I’ve heard lots of things since coming here about Marsh Mansion”,
“I’ve heard there used to be a shady alchemist who lived there. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?”
“Have you ever gone up there?”
“I’ve also heard that there’s spirits there too, but I’ve yet to see any proof! What about you Ned? Have you seen or heard anything?”
“I like to know all I can about a place before I go exploring”
“Hanna said that one of the locals... Primrose? Penrose? Anyway, she said that he’s actually visited the house. I’m really interested to hear what he saw up there. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to him before? I wonder what he’s like?”
Like the wind and rain outside the barrage of questions continued without relent, yet somehow between it all, the gnome had managed to devour an entire plate of Hanna's hearty grub before he'd even gotten through half and had even had a second served to her. Where was she even putting it?
"I'm ready for me breakfast now, 'anna, love. Keep the ale comin'. Are you not hungry Nyx, or are you too busy chattin', darlin'? Never let perfectly good food sit there if it can be shovelled into ya gullet!"
A visible wave of relief seemed to wash over Ned as the surlier dwarf took a seat at the bar next to the gnome, momentarily distracting her. In the brief respite, Ned tried to go back over the questions he'd been assaulted with before grunting an answer.
"As I say, it's a weird place that mansion. Gives me the creeps. I've not been here that long, 'bout two seasons now working for old Primewater. Don't much care for the town to be honest, but the trade's better here than over in Leilon. More coin to be earned." Ned says with mirth. "But every bugger in this place is scared of that damned house. An for good reason too I hear. 'Orrible screams an' such you can 'ear coming from it sometimes if ya' get too close. Not been that way myself, but I wouldn't mind a helpin' of that treasure that's bound to be up there. You know what wizard and conjurin' folk are like for their hoarding."
Draining his tankard and rising from his chair, Ned stuffs a last handful of bacon into his mouth before dropping a few silver pieces on to the bar with a nod to Hanna. “Can’t be hangin’ round here chattering like fishwives though. Got work to do. Price can tell ya’ more. Couple of drinks in him and the bloody trick is getting him to STOP telling you. The fat idiot thinks he’s some sorta adventurer now because he apparently snuck into the place. Need to get my stuff in order.” And with that, Ned turns to walk out of the bar.
Nyx and Melnir: Please make an insight check
Taking the seat just vacated by Ned, Gabriel places himself down at the bar with is compatriots, Alagon in tow not far behind. Hanna begins to clear away the plate and tankard that Ned had been using, and replaces it with a couple of fresh cups for the two men as they approach.
"Mornin' Nyx, Mel. Anyone catch sight of Abdul yet?"
"Mornin' Gabe. I lost 'im in the downpour. It's a mess out there, see... Be 'ard-pressed to see your 'and in front of your face in this weather... He'll be back in time! In the meantime, breakfast!"
No sooner has Melnir responded, that the door to the tavern swings open with the wind and rain driving it harder than expected, almost clipping Ned as he has to step to one side to avoid being hit. Through the door steps a particularly damp and windswept Abdul as he returns to the tavern. Ned hurriedly pushes past, muttering under his breath as he exits.
Abdul: Make a perception check as you enter the room
“Aye Jasker, sorry I should have known lad. It’s hard for an old socialite to keep up these days, I remember now, I was looking to ask you a couple questions if you don’t mind. You look like you know the folks coming and goings around here better than most.
We are supposed to be meeting a Price Penrose on the morrow, he has information about a certain house off the old coast road, what do you know of this fella? You think we can trust him? Also, you seem like a sensible bunch... what do you think about the disappearance of the alchemist? Everyone seems to have their own story around here, it’s hard to know what to believe.”
Jasker and Mafera exchange glances for a brief moment before laughing pleasantly. It is Mafera that speaks up first though. Much like her aged but hardy appearance, her voice is similarly weathered from a life spent around coal forges. “Price? He’s a drunk and a boast, but a nice enough chap. I’d take what he has to say with a pinch of salt though. Every time he’s told that bloody tale of his ‘daring escape’ from Marsh Mansion, I swear he adds another eerie beasty to it. Couple weeks from now, swear he’ll be fighting off a kraken with his hands in shackles and a swagger in his step.” She laughs again.
“But the alchemist? Been gone near on… what? Must be 20 years now. It were before I had Jasker here, so yeah, must be about 20 years. Why’d you ask?” A momentary pause hangs in the air before Mafera sits back suddenly. “Wait? You’re not thinking about heading up to the House are ya?”
The shock of the realisation is clear on both of their faces and is mingled with obvious concern, before Jasker continues where his mother left off. His voice rises louder than before, enough to carry across the tavern.
“You can’t go to the manor. ‘ts haunted! Everyone knows that! Cleric Wellgar himself said that it’s a cursed place!”
It’s clear to see that the idea does not sit well with either of them and their body language is far more standoffish than the previous good humour that they had greeted you with.
OOC: A couple of you have been asked to make some rolls. If you can let me know what the results are before you write your post, I will let you know the outcome and update it on here so you can react accordingly.
Perception: 12
Insight:12