Saltmarsh Backround Saltmarsh is a nondescript fishing village tucked away on the southern coast of the Kingdom of Keoland. For several generations, Keoland was a formidable military power. Its superior cavalry and bold knights pushed the kingdom’s borders outward to the north, west, and east. Each successful campaign increased both the crown’s wealth and power, and each one in turn drew the kingdom’s attention even farther north. The southern coastal regions of Keoland remained a backwater.
The crown’s benign neglect allowed piracy and banditry to flourish. Saltmarsh and similar towns kept to fishing, content to maintain a low profile and avoid governmental entanglements. Decades ago, the pirates who prowled the waters off Saltmarsh grew strong enough to create their own realm, a loose confederacy known as the Hold of the Sea Princes. With the rise of that nation came increased raids on Saltmarsh and its neighbors. The Sea Princes’ raiding ships pillaged the coast for more slaves to support their growing realm, and Saltmarsh suffered heavily. The memories of those times loom heavily over the area, and the locals’ hatred of the Sea Princes runs deep.
In time, Keoland’s victories in the north gave way to a string of defeats in which its neighbors pushed the kingdom back to its original boundaries. With the world closing in, King Kimbertos Skotti looked to the south and saw unchecked banditry and a rising pirate nation. The crown struck peace treaties with its former foes to the north, raised a navy, and dealt a sharp check to the ambitions of the Sea Princes—but the conflict is by no means over.
King Skotti has decreed that the pirates must be put down, the sea lanes secured, and trade cultivated. If Keoland cannot prosper as a military force, it must grow mightier as a center of trade.
Saltmarsh, remote though it might be from the center of power in Keoland, is entering a new phase of its life as it reacts to the king’s plans. The crown’s agents want to expand the village’s port and make it a prime location for trade with the world beyond. In another recent development, a band of dwarves—bearing a decree from the king himself—have arrived and begun to excavate the hills and seaside cliffs near town, looking for precious metals. If their work bears fruit as expected, the mine stands to become a major factor in the village’s—and, indeed, the entire region’s—prosperity.
You are all aboard a general goods ship called "Naut to see here". Whilst it does not normally carry passengers you have each talked your way onboard, earning free passage for taking watch during the nights. The occurrences of theft at sea, slavery and general piracy have been on the increase recently and the ships captain, Bos, was more than happy to have the help.
Bos is an older human female, who has a soft spot for adventurers as she had a brief foray as one herself. The rest of the crew give you a bit of a wide berth, a little distant from you as they feel they can defend the ship themselves but not openly hostile.
During the first day you found places to sleep where you could, on the floor in the hold amongst the goods, a spare crew bed if you could, where ever there was space and you were out of the way. Halfway through the day the "Naut to see here" hit strong winds, rain and rough seas which lasted until the evening. For those of you without a background or backstory involving working on ships - take 1 point of exhaustion please.
You find yourselves all preparing for your first night's watch, settling down for breakfast after all the crew have finished their evening meal. The cook, a stout-even-for-a dwarf male called Tortin, serves up a meal of salted beef, cheese and potato. "Get some er that down ya before the evening shift..." he looks about group and laughs good-naturedly "If yer can!"
The ship rocks gently on smaller swell now the storm has passed.
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Layout of ship with some example crew Top two levels
Bottom two levels
((Ok - let's get going. Over to you! Introduce your characters))
Cuicatl, CC to his friends and colleagues, takes a bite of the food and immediately begins to vomit it back up. Those observing would see it catch in his gullet as he chokes it back down. He wipes his cherubic face with a sleeve of his robe and comments to any onlookers.
"Not proper to waste good bile like that"
He then slides the food away, tightens his belt and waits for his shift at the watch, green with seasickness, but more curious than miserable about it.
Elwyn: By the rail of the "Naut to see here" sits a young half-elf, brown hair, eyes and a small goatee to match, wearing a green cloak over a white shirt, leather pants and soft boots, a weird looking wand shaped like a tentacle tucked into his belt and a backpack by his side. He was quick to introduce himself as Elwyn Wordsmith, travelling storyteller, when you boarded the ship, telling all who cared to listen of his travels across the Flanaess. After the stormy day he is less talkative and tries his best to keep the breakfast served, obviously being struck with a bad case of the mal de mer. "Did I tell you about my last trip on the Azure sea..." He stops himself mid sentence, turns around and shares the contents of his stomach with the sea below. "Sorry about that." He says and leans back again. "So where are you all heading then?" He says deciding to let others do the talking for a while.
Ned is a dark-skinned Halfling, about 3’4” with a serious face that often appears to be thinking about something else, even when he’s talking to you face-to-face. He wears breeches and cotton shirt with no shoes, and a water proof cloak. He has brown dread locks held back by a gray-green bandana.
He’s got arms and a pack like most of the other passengers, but his pack has a small pot of dirt exposed, which he checks frequently.
Ned seems to roll with the sea as the waves rock the boat, a natural on a ship. He listens to Elwyn and CC talk themselves through the seasickness, but doesn’t add much, only saying “Yup” and ”mmhmm” at the silent parts, mostly.
Along with all the others petitioning for passage, a man – or, an elf judging by the almost golden skin and slightly slanted eyes – approached the vessel. He carried a heavy pack and was wearing a variety of weapons, his chain mail emblazoned with the faint outline of a half-moon obscured by clouds – fine work, speaking of a unique and subtle artistry. He paused at the foot of the gangplank, looking down to the ocean far below. He was clearly uncertain, but eventually climbed cautiously aboard. The rocking of the ship seemed to unsettle him, but he quickly acclimatized.
Some of the crew laughed, but averted their gazes when the elf looked their way. “Sink like a stone, eh?” He looked down at his chain mail and nods. “Thanks for the warning.” He headed to the quarterdeck to introduce himself to the captain.
“I seek passage to Saltmarsh, but have little money. Are there duties that I might assist with? I know nothing of the sea, but I can work wood, and I can work steel, and I know a little about balms and tinctures and the like.” He pauses, then quickly adds with a shrug, “I don’t really mind what I do, my wife always said it was good to be busy, so I try to be busy.” The captain nodded, but her words are lost on the wind. She clearly agreed because, a few moments later he was led below decks to stow his gear.
When he next appears on deck he is no longer wearing mail, but instead is dressed in what looks like simple home-spun farm clothes. Not the finery one usually expects from elven warriors. The clothing looks well used, but also well tended, with hand-sewn patches and soft leather on the elbows and knees. Around his neck is a silvery chain attached to a locket.
He takes a deep breath, and walks to the seaward side of the ship, looking to the horizon. He stands thus for perhaps ten minutes, perfectly still. The movement of the ship seems to no longer unsettle him. Eventually he takes a deep breath, turns, and walks the perimeter of the deck, trying to get a sense of its layout. He does the same on each of the other decks before eventually returning to the top deck, to wait for the departure. As he watches the coast recede, he pulls out his locket, kisses it lightly then returns below decks to sit with his belongings, trying to keep out of the way of the crew, lost in thought. He is clearly unused to the heaving rhythms of the seas and, while he tries to snatch what rest he can during their journey, he never seems at ease.
When the storms eventually abate on the second day, he appears at table in the same worn homespun clothes, but is now carrying a wooden shield with the same moon and cloud emblem, his sword and a dagger. Across his chest is draped a leather bandoleer holding numerous darts. His tanned features look unusually pale, his long blond hair hair unkempt, and his pale eyes weary.
He nods at Tortin’s advice. “It is the fuel of both the mind and the body. Yet…”, he picks up a small piece of bread, “...I find myself without much of a desire for it.” Nevertheless, he chews the bread mechanically, then takes another piece, clearly eating out of a sense of necessity rather than appetite.
He eats slowly and methodically, and as he does so, he looks around the table, “If we are to work together it is best we know a little about each other. I am Benarthil ap Ulsarion. Or Ben if you prefer.” He manages a weak and tired smile. “A warrior in the service of the Lady of Dreams.”
"CC Spiritkeep, I'm a member of the clergy of Katay in Salt Marsh. I've been ignoring an assignment to cleanse a haunted house on the edge of town... I could use a hand with it if everyone is interested"
In a darkened corner of the mess is an overlooked heap of oilskin burlap. The night-watch crew only notice it when a head seems to rise from it at the mention of breakfast. His eyes sparkle like polished tiger-eye marbles fixed upon a face blackened by years at sea. Now you can see that the rest of him is similarly weathered, giving the appearance of the aged oilskin. He shifts his weight and uncrosses his arms as the dwarf rises to take his place at the table. His smile suddenly flashes brightly from amidst a beard and elaborate mustache which look as much like the weathered frayed ends of a stained and re-bleached-by-the-sun line about ship.
"Yamdum Grumblesunder at your service. Smells like the cook has made us a fine meal for our mornin' sup." , he says, while snagging a plate and digging in. After a while he notices Cuicatl's uneaten food, Yamdum comments, with an almost off-hand air "I am sure you know your business, but perhaps you're less acquainted with this part of the Azure Sea. Storms kick up somethin' fierce here. There was a ship hand on one of the last crossings... about as skinny as yourself... a strong wind snapped up and just lifted him off the deck... last we saw him was sailin' away on the breeze o'er the waves... But if you don't have a mind to put some weight into your gullet, do you mind if I have your meal?"
Cormac is a rather typical dwarf in appearance with his stout stature, standing in at a rather impressive 4'9". He has short but dark brown hair with green blue eyes. Like most of his kin he has a large and well taken care of beard that is braided with metal bands. As for his clothing he wears simple workers close with various belts that hold his tools.
Throughout the time they had been on the ship, Cormac has been going about with his tools and seemingly fixing any problems he found with with ship. If he had not gotten on the ship as an adventurer then he could have easily done so as a freelance Shipwright. After the winds died down he scrambles around, checking the vessel over before taking a break.
"Ship should be fine to keep goin. Other then a bit of damage to yer sails that I fixed with me magic it is good to handle a few more squalls."
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Elwyn: The woozy half-elf perks up a bit with the talking around the table. "The name is Elwyn, Elwyn Wordsmith, a travelling minstrel of sorts, but as I recently happened upon this trinket..." pointing to the wand in his belt. "...I was rather thinking of turning to a life as an adventurer. I think I know the haunted house you´re talking about there CC. The story I heard is that the place was built by a grumpy old merchant who took his young wife there to keep her from the fishermen in the village. One day when the old merchant was on a business trip the young wife visited Saltmarsh where fate sent her into the arms of a young sailor and long lost love. As you can imagine the young sailor begged for her to follow him but she dared not to leave her vindictive husband. Instead she stood on the cliffs by the house each day looking for the return of the sailors ship. After returning the old merchant found out about the affair and in rage pushed her off the cliff to her death on the sharp rocks below. Griefstricken the old man then went up to the house and hanged himself. Since that day you can hear her wailing in the wind, while the restless ghost of the old merchant stares at her from their bedroom window."Short pause. "But that´s just how the story goes." "You can have this by the way..." Elwyn says sliding his plate of food over to Yamdum. "..I don´t really have an apetite yet." "Anyway, I would love to join you in your cleansing CC, it will be a good adventure and make a good story too I hope."
"CC Spiritkeep, I'm a member of the clergy of Katay in Salt Marsh. I've been ignoring an assignment to cleanse a haunted house on the edge of town... I could use a hand with it if everyone is interested"
Ben swallows his food with effort, then wipes his mouth and stares at the priest for a moment before nodding and speaking, "I had heard rumours of such a place. Why is it that you have been ignoring your duty?"
"Thank you Mr. Wordsmith. Very kind of you." Yamdum says while sliding Elwyn's plate on top of the two he already has cleared.
"Last time I made port in Salt Marsh I heard tales of the Haunted House. Would've checked it out me-self, but didn't have a chance before setting sail again. I'd be interested in joining an expedition to scout it out..."He then washes down his hearty breakfast with a mug of grog. He winks and says "Gotta keep the scurvy away."
Elwyn: "Don´t mention it Mr. Grumblesunder." Elwyn says impressed with the amount of food the dwarf consumes. "Reminds me of a story a heard of this ships cook, I think it was on the Lazy Seagull, anyway, he took the job because of the perk of eating as much as he wanted. And that he did, so much so that when they reached port the crew had to use a winch to get him ashore and when the ship finally went under during a terrible storm he had grown to fat to even leave the galley. Not that the story applies to you in anyway Mr Grumblesunder, You seem to be in very good shape there. It will be good to have you along investigating that haunted house. What about you good Sirs?" Elwyn turns to the others.
"I don't know nothin bout any house haunted or otherwise in Saltmarsh. Been to busy keepin ships from sinkin to get off other then fer a drink or supplies. But if the pay is worth enough then maybe I will be joining ye. Besides who knows what some merchant kept around the place. Ah but I never even told ye me name. Cormac Brungir, Shipwright and all around crafter at yer service." The tool laden dwarf said, nodding to each of them as he put his tools back on her belt.
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Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
"I'd be lying to myself if I said anything other than I'm scared of what's there. Many of my peers are inclined to believe that death and decay, even their own, is a fine day to celebrate Katay and the new life that rot brings... I personally prefer my present life to that if the worms that would feast upon me." He makes another attempt at the salted meat after casting purify food and drink on it (The spell is against his religion but it comes in handy)
Elwyn: "Good to have you along Cormac Brungir..."The half-elf says visibly more excited now over the adventure to come "...and when CC has cleansed that house from its hauntings you could make repairs and sell it for a fortune, if money is your interest master dwarf. The view over the Azure sea should fetch a hefty price I´m sure."
"About your beliefs CC, isn´t it hard to find convertites selling decay as a pillar of faith?" Elwyn asks the priest genuinely interested.
"It's certainly not a popular religion, but we make compost for farming, do ritualistic memorials and in general help the public cope with great loss and hardship. The local denomination preaches „life needs death to live„ and we offer extensive physical and psychological aid for a nominal donation just two keep the hearths warm and the larders full."
CC's explanation seems partially scripted but mostly genuine, like he believes what he says, but has had to say it often
"I'd be lying to myself if I said anything other than I'm scared of what's there.
At this, Ben snorts, but listens as the priest continues. At the end he smiles, nodding. "I admire a man who knows and admits his limits. Such a man can be trusted." He seems to be lost in thought for a moment, then continues. "'There's no bravery without fear', as they say." He dutufully eats another piece of bread, unwilling to try the meat, then sizes up the priest more carefully. "That you are going back now, speaks well of you."
He takes a deep breath and stares at the now half-eaten piece of bread in his hand, "You are right to fear them, you know. Black Necromancy is the corruption of all natural orders, and is the enemy of all life, the denial of the cycles. It must be stamped out. I will gladly join you in this task. It is...perhaps...what drew me to Saltmarsh."
Tortin continues to fill plates until there is no meat or potatoes left. He pats Yamdum on the back, "This one recognises good food when he sees it."
To the group; "Eat what yer can, it will come up until it stays down. You'll need yer strength, the nights are long at sea. And don't worry about a little sickness, happens ter us all. I threw up so hard on me first day I damn well went overboard." He laughs at the memory, shaking his head. "I better clean up before heading to bed. I'll sleep easier tonight knowing we gots some help." He puts a bowl of bread on the table. "And finish them up too."
As Tortin is tidying up Bos walks in. "Away with you, Tort. What would we do without you?". She is well spoken, more so than you'd expect from a ships captain of this nature.
"Probably be less sick, Capt'n" replies Tortin, before leaving the room.
Bos stays standing by the door. Deep lines around her eyes and mouth tell of a life lived outdoors, much of it at sea. Greying hair hangs round her features, still wet from the storm.
"I see you are still finding your sea legs. It'll come." She crosses her arms; "It's a black night tonight, no moon and thick clouds... still a bit of wind about too...so stay sharp. There'll be a reduced crew on overnight... keep your eyes peeled and let one of them know if you see anything. Let's hope for a dull night". She sighs; "Thank you for offering your help. Things are...rough at the moment. I've been taking fish from Saltmasrh and delivering other goods for near on 20 years now and I don't remember it being this tough. Raids are happening more often and money is tighter than ever. I'm left with the shitty choice of hiring good sailors who can't fight, or less sailors and some who can fight. These are tough seas so I find myself choosing sailors...and we have a ship of dam fine sailors. But we are open to raids". Her features soften a little; "Some of them are a little put out that you are here, think they can defend their ship themselves. Just ignore them, and let me know if you get any trouble and I'll chuck them overboard."
She turn to leave; "Wake me if anything happens, anything...and Ben...well done on taking the chain mail off." And she is gone.
((Carry on as you were and head up to deck whenever ready :) Take the above as just happening at some point - ask questions to Tortin or Bos and will still respond ))
Region Map
Saltmarsh Backround
Saltmarsh is a nondescript fishing village tucked away on the southern coast of the Kingdom of Keoland. For several generations, Keoland was a formidable military power. Its superior cavalry and bold knights pushed the kingdom’s borders outward to the north, west, and east. Each successful campaign increased both the crown’s wealth and power, and each one in turn drew the kingdom’s attention even farther north. The southern coastal regions of Keoland remained a backwater.
The crown’s benign neglect allowed piracy and banditry to flourish. Saltmarsh and similar towns kept to fishing, content to maintain a low profile and avoid governmental entanglements. Decades ago, the pirates who prowled the waters off Saltmarsh grew strong enough to create their own realm, a loose confederacy known as the Hold of the Sea Princes. With the rise of that nation came increased raids on Saltmarsh and its neighbors. The Sea Princes’ raiding ships pillaged the coast for more slaves to support their growing realm, and Saltmarsh suffered heavily. The memories of those times loom heavily over the area, and the locals’ hatred of the Sea Princes runs deep.
In time, Keoland’s victories in the north gave way to a string of defeats in which its neighbors pushed the kingdom back to its original boundaries. With the world closing in, King Kimbertos Skotti looked to the south and saw unchecked banditry and a rising pirate nation. The crown struck peace treaties with its former foes to the north, raised a navy, and dealt a sharp check to the ambitions of the Sea Princes—but the conflict is by no means over.
King Skotti has decreed that the pirates must be put down, the sea lanes secured, and trade cultivated. If Keoland cannot prosper as a military force, it must grow mightier as a center of trade.
Saltmarsh, remote though it might be from the center of power in Keoland, is entering a new phase of its life as it reacts to the king’s plans. The crown’s agents want to expand the village’s port and make it a prime location for trade with the world beyond. In another recent development, a band of dwarves—bearing a decree from the king himself—have arrived and begun to excavate the hills and seaside cliffs near town, looking for precious metals. If their work bears fruit as expected, the mine stands to become a major factor in the village’s—and, indeed, the entire region’s—prosperity.
N/A
The start of the adventure
You are all aboard a general goods ship called "Naut to see here". Whilst it does not normally carry passengers you have each talked your way onboard, earning free passage for taking watch during the nights. The occurrences of theft at sea, slavery and general piracy have been on the increase recently and the ships captain, Bos, was more than happy to have the help.
Bos is an older human female, who has a soft spot for adventurers as she had a brief foray as one herself. The rest of the crew give you a bit of a wide berth, a little distant from you as they feel they can defend the ship themselves but not openly hostile.
During the first day you found places to sleep where you could, on the floor in the hold amongst the goods, a spare crew bed if you could, where ever there was space and you were out of the way. Halfway through the day the "Naut to see here" hit strong winds, rain and rough seas which lasted until the evening. For those of you without a background or backstory involving working on ships - take 1 point of exhaustion please.
You find yourselves all preparing for your first night's watch, settling down for breakfast after all the crew have finished their evening meal. The cook, a stout-even-for-a dwarf male called Tortin, serves up a meal of salted beef, cheese and potato. "Get some er that down ya before the evening shift..." he looks about group and laughs good-naturedly "If yer can!"
The ship rocks gently on smaller swell now the storm has passed.
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Layout of ship with some example crew
Top two levels
Bottom two levels
((Ok - let's get going. Over to you! Introduce your characters))
N/A
Cuicatl, CC to his friends and colleagues, takes a bite of the food and immediately begins to vomit it back up. Those observing would see it catch in his gullet as he chokes it back down. He wipes his cherubic face with a sleeve of his robe and comments to any onlookers.
"Not proper to waste good bile like that"
He then slides the food away, tightens his belt and waits for his shift at the watch, green with seasickness, but more curious than miserable about it.
Elwyn:
By the rail of the "Naut to see here" sits a young half-elf, brown hair, eyes and a small goatee to match, wearing a green cloak over a white shirt, leather pants and soft boots, a weird looking wand shaped like a tentacle tucked into his belt and a backpack by his side. He was quick to introduce himself as Elwyn Wordsmith, travelling storyteller, when you boarded the ship, telling all who cared to listen of his travels across the Flanaess. After the stormy day he is less talkative and tries his best to keep the breakfast served, obviously being struck with a bad case of the mal de mer. "Did I tell you about my last trip on the Azure sea..." He stops himself mid sentence, turns around and shares the contents of his stomach with the sea below. "Sorry about that." He says and leans back again. "So where are you all heading then?" He says deciding to let others do the talking for a while.
Ned is a dark-skinned Halfling, about 3’4” with a serious face that often appears to be thinking about something else, even when he’s talking to you face-to-face. He wears breeches and cotton shirt with no shoes, and a water proof cloak. He has brown dread locks held back by a gray-green bandana.
He’s got arms and a pack like most of the other passengers, but his pack has a small pot of dirt exposed, which he checks frequently.
Ned seems to roll with the sea as the waves rock the boat, a natural on a ship. He listens to Elwyn and CC talk themselves through the seasickness, but doesn’t add much, only saying “Yup” and ”mmhmm” at the silent parts, mostly.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Benarthil
Along with all the others petitioning for passage, a man – or, an elf judging by the almost golden skin and slightly slanted eyes – approached the vessel. He carried a heavy pack and was wearing a variety of weapons, his chain mail emblazoned with the faint outline of a half-moon obscured by clouds – fine work, speaking of a unique and subtle artistry. He paused at the foot of the gangplank, looking down to the ocean far below. He was clearly uncertain, but eventually climbed cautiously aboard. The rocking of the ship seemed to unsettle him, but he quickly acclimatized.
Some of the crew laughed, but averted their gazes when the elf looked their way. “Sink like a stone, eh?” He looked down at his chain mail and nods. “Thanks for the warning.” He headed to the quarterdeck to introduce himself to the captain.
“I seek passage to Saltmarsh, but have little money. Are there duties that I might assist with? I know nothing of the sea, but I can work wood, and I can work steel, and I know a little about balms and tinctures and the like.” He pauses, then quickly adds with a shrug, “I don’t really mind what I do, my wife always said it was good to be busy, so I try to be busy.” The captain nodded, but her words are lost on the wind. She clearly agreed because, a few moments later he was led below decks to stow his gear.
When he next appears on deck he is no longer wearing mail, but instead is dressed in what looks like simple home-spun farm clothes. Not the finery one usually expects from elven warriors. The clothing looks well used, but also well tended, with hand-sewn patches and soft leather on the elbows and knees. Around his neck is a silvery chain attached to a locket.
He takes a deep breath, and walks to the seaward side of the ship, looking to the horizon. He stands thus for perhaps ten minutes, perfectly still. The movement of the ship seems to no longer unsettle him. Eventually he takes a deep breath, turns, and walks the perimeter of the deck, trying to get a sense of its layout. He does the same on each of the other decks before eventually returning to the top deck, to wait for the departure. As he watches the coast recede, he pulls out his locket, kisses it lightly then returns below decks to sit with his belongings, trying to keep out of the way of the crew, lost in thought. He is clearly unused to the heaving rhythms of the seas and, while he tries to snatch what rest he can during their journey, he never seems at ease.
When the storms eventually abate on the second day, he appears at table in the same worn homespun clothes, but is now carrying a wooden shield with the same moon and cloud emblem, his sword and a dagger. Across his chest is draped a leather bandoleer holding numerous darts. His tanned features look unusually pale, his long blond hair hair unkempt, and his pale eyes weary.
He nods at Tortin’s advice. “It is the fuel of both the mind and the body. Yet…”, he picks up a small piece of bread, “...I find myself without much of a desire for it.” Nevertheless, he chews the bread mechanically, then takes another piece, clearly eating out of a sense of necessity rather than appetite.
He eats slowly and methodically, and as he does so, he looks around the table, “If we are to work together it is best we know a little about each other. I am Benarthil ap Ulsarion. Or Ben if you prefer.” He manages a weak and tired smile. “A warrior in the service of the Lady of Dreams.”
"CC Spiritkeep, I'm a member of the clergy of Katay in Salt Marsh. I've been ignoring an assignment to cleanse a haunted house on the edge of town... I could use a hand with it if everyone is interested"
In a darkened corner of the mess is an overlooked heap of oilskin burlap. The night-watch crew only notice it when a head seems to rise from it at the mention of breakfast. His eyes sparkle like polished tiger-eye marbles fixed upon a face blackened by years at sea. Now you can see that the rest of him is similarly weathered, giving the appearance of the aged oilskin. He shifts his weight and uncrosses his arms as the dwarf rises to take his place at the table. His smile suddenly flashes brightly from amidst a beard and elaborate mustache which look as much like the weathered frayed ends of a stained and re-bleached-by-the-sun line about ship.
"Yamdum Grumblesunder at your service. Smells like the cook has made us a fine meal for our mornin' sup." , he says, while snagging a plate and digging in. After a while he notices Cuicatl's uneaten food, Yamdum comments, with an almost off-hand air "I am sure you know your business, but perhaps you're less acquainted with this part of the Azure Sea. Storms kick up somethin' fierce here. There was a ship hand on one of the last crossings... about as skinny as yourself... a strong wind snapped up and just lifted him off the deck... last we saw him was sailin' away on the breeze o'er the waves... But if you don't have a mind to put some weight into your gullet, do you mind if I have your meal?"
Jhaartael - Circle of Light Team 3, Season 1 | GM - PF2e Adventure set in the Forgotten Realms
Cormac
Cormac is a rather typical dwarf in appearance with his stout stature, standing in at a rather impressive 4'9". He has short but dark brown hair with green blue eyes. Like most of his kin he has a large and well taken care of beard that is braided with metal bands. As for his clothing he wears simple workers close with various belts that hold his tools.
Throughout the time they had been on the ship, Cormac has been going about with his tools and seemingly fixing any problems he found with with ship. If he had not gotten on the ship as an adventurer then he could have easily done so as a freelance Shipwright. After the winds died down he scrambles around, checking the vessel over before taking a break.
"Ship should be fine to keep goin. Other then a bit of damage to yer sails that I fixed with me magic it is good to handle a few more squalls."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Elwyn:
The woozy half-elf perks up a bit with the talking around the table. "The name is Elwyn, Elwyn Wordsmith, a travelling minstrel of sorts, but as I recently happened upon this trinket..." pointing to the wand in his belt. "...I was rather thinking of turning to a life as an adventurer. I think I know the haunted house you´re talking about there CC. The story I heard is that the place was built by a grumpy old merchant who took his young wife there to keep her from the fishermen in the village. One day when the old merchant was on a business trip the young wife visited Saltmarsh where fate sent her into the arms of a young sailor and long lost love. As you can imagine the young sailor begged for her to follow him but she dared not to leave her vindictive husband. Instead she stood on the cliffs by the house each day looking for the return of the sailors ship. After returning the old merchant found out about the affair and in rage pushed her off the cliff to her death on the sharp rocks below. Griefstricken the old man then went up to the house and hanged himself. Since that day you can hear her wailing in the wind, while the restless ghost of the old merchant stares at her from their bedroom window." Short pause. "But that´s just how the story goes."
"You can have this by the way..." Elwyn says sliding his plate of food over to Yamdum. "..I don´t really have an apetite yet."
"Anyway, I would love to join you in your cleansing CC, it will be a good adventure and make a good story too I hope."
Benarthil
Ben swallows his food with effort, then wipes his mouth and stares at the priest for a moment before nodding and speaking, "I had heard rumours of such a place. Why is it that you have been ignoring your duty?"
"Thank you Mr. Wordsmith. Very kind of you." Yamdum says while sliding Elwyn's plate on top of the two he already has cleared.
"Last time I made port in Salt Marsh I heard tales of the Haunted House. Would've checked it out me-self, but didn't have a chance before setting sail again. I'd be interested in joining an expedition to scout it out..." He then washes down his hearty breakfast with a mug of grog. He winks and says "Gotta keep the scurvy away."
Jhaartael - Circle of Light Team 3, Season 1 | GM - PF2e Adventure set in the Forgotten Realms
Elwyn:
"Don´t mention it Mr. Grumblesunder." Elwyn says impressed with the amount of food the dwarf consumes. "Reminds me of a story a heard of this ships cook, I think it was on the Lazy Seagull, anyway, he took the job because of the perk of eating as much as he wanted. And that he did, so much so that when they reached port the crew had to use a winch to get him ashore and when the ship finally went under during a terrible storm he had grown to fat to even leave the galley. Not that the story applies to you in anyway Mr Grumblesunder, You seem to be in very good shape there. It will be good to have you along investigating that haunted house. What about you good Sirs?" Elwyn turns to the others.
Cormac
"I don't know nothin bout any house haunted or otherwise in Saltmarsh. Been to busy keepin ships from sinkin to get off other then fer a drink or supplies. But if the pay is worth enough then maybe I will be joining ye. Besides who knows what some merchant kept around the place. Ah but I never even told ye me name. Cormac Brungir, Shipwright and all around crafter at yer service." The tool laden dwarf said, nodding to each of them as he put his tools back on her belt.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
CC
"I'd be lying to myself if I said anything other than I'm scared of what's there. Many of my peers are inclined to believe that death and decay, even their own, is a fine day to celebrate Katay and the new life that rot brings... I personally prefer my present life to that if the worms that would feast upon me." He makes another attempt at the salted meat after casting purify food and drink on it (The spell is against his religion but it comes in handy)
Elwyn:
"Good to have you along Cormac Brungir..." The half-elf says visibly more excited now over the adventure to come "...and when CC has cleansed that house from its hauntings you could make repairs and sell it for a fortune, if money is your interest master dwarf. The view over the Azure sea should fetch a hefty price I´m sure."
"About your beliefs CC, isn´t it hard to find convertites selling decay as a pillar of faith?" Elwyn asks the priest genuinely interested.
CC
"It's certainly not a popular religion, but we make compost for farming, do ritualistic memorials and in general help the public cope with great loss and hardship. The local denomination preaches „life needs death to live„ and we offer extensive physical and psychological aid for a nominal donation just two keep the hearths warm and the larders full."
CC's explanation seems partially scripted but mostly genuine, like he believes what he says, but has had to say it often
Benarthil
At this, Ben snorts, but listens as the priest continues. At the end he smiles, nodding. "I admire a man who knows and admits his limits. Such a man can be trusted." He seems to be lost in thought for a moment, then continues. "'There's no bravery without fear', as they say." He dutufully eats another piece of bread, unwilling to try the meat, then sizes up the priest more carefully. "That you are going back now, speaks well of you."
He takes a deep breath and stares at the now half-eaten piece of bread in his hand, "You are right to fear them, you know. Black Necromancy is the corruption of all natural orders, and is the enemy of all life, the denial of the cycles. It must be stamped out. I will gladly join you in this task. It is...perhaps...what drew me to Saltmarsh."
“Ned.” The Halfling finally says after all the chatter. “I used to know Salt marsh pretty well. I was stationed here.”
Ned sticks his hands in his pockets. “If you need some help at that old house, I’ve seen it.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Tortin continues to fill plates until there is no meat or potatoes left. He pats Yamdum on the back, "This one recognises good food when he sees it."
To the group; "Eat what yer can, it will come up until it stays down. You'll need yer strength, the nights are long at sea. And don't worry about a little sickness, happens ter us all. I threw up so hard on me first day I damn well went overboard." He laughs at the memory, shaking his head. "I better clean up before heading to bed. I'll sleep easier tonight knowing we gots some help." He puts a bowl of bread on the table. "And finish them up too."
As Tortin is tidying up Bos walks in. "Away with you, Tort. What would we do without you?". She is well spoken, more so than you'd expect from a ships captain of this nature.
"Probably be less sick, Capt'n" replies Tortin, before leaving the room.
Bos stays standing by the door. Deep lines around her eyes and mouth tell of a life lived outdoors, much of it at sea. Greying hair hangs round her features, still wet from the storm.
"I see you are still finding your sea legs. It'll come." She crosses her arms; "It's a black night tonight, no moon and thick clouds... still a bit of wind about too...so stay sharp. There'll be a reduced crew on overnight... keep your eyes peeled and let one of them know if you see anything. Let's hope for a dull night". She sighs; "Thank you for offering your help. Things are...rough at the moment. I've been taking fish from Saltmasrh and delivering other goods for near on 20 years now and I don't remember it being this tough. Raids are happening more often and money is tighter than ever. I'm left with the shitty choice of hiring good sailors who can't fight, or less sailors and some who can fight. These are tough seas so I find myself choosing sailors...and we have a ship of dam fine sailors. But we are open to raids". Her features soften a little; "Some of them are a little put out that you are here, think they can defend their ship themselves. Just ignore them, and let me know if you get any trouble and I'll chuck them overboard."
She turn to leave; "Wake me if anything happens, anything...and Ben...well done on taking the chain mail off." And she is gone.
((Carry on as you were and head up to deck whenever ready :) Take the above as just happening at some point - ask questions to Tortin or Bos and will still respond ))
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