"We think it was the Belle Meade. Its the only ship of that size we were expecting... though she was a few days early, if it was her."
What if anything might Eron know of this ship?
History 9 so probably not much…
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head.Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
You think you may have heard of this ship before. There are a number of vessels that regularly make port in Saltmarsh as part of their endless trade circuits around the Azure Sea. The name Belle Meade sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't say for certain where it called home or what sort of goods it carried... other than it seems to have had some apples with it based on the debris in the water.
Fane dispatches Leo to circle the harbor. The pocket-sized owl takes flight on wings that seem almost too large for its little body.
As Eron and Eliander draw closer to the rest of the group, Eliander departs. "Of course," he says to Eron. "We can catch up soon, or whenever you are ready. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other duties and it has already been a very long night. Welcome home." And to the others, he nods. "Enjoy your visit to Saltmarsh."
Meanwhile, the dock kids have huddled up in conversation; four of them now, with the apple seller and the huckster sitting at the lower and upper ends of the height spectrum, respectively. All of them are dressed in variations of overalls or dungarees and are shoeless to a number. Reaching an agreement, the tallest lad steps foreward to once again take lead. "Okay, folks. We can show ya' around. Just follow us." The turn and depart at the slightly faster than necessary pace of children, forcing the group to move briskly to keep up.
The environment here is sub-tropical, with bright, warm sunshine tempered by moderate breezes coming in off the see. Palm trees are abundant, as are shrubs and beach grasses.
The large dock for deep-hulled vessels sits at the extreme southwestern end of the Saltmarsh port. Stepping off of the dock, you see that what had looked like a beach is actually a large stone road or promenade, just covered in a layer of fine white sands blown in by wind and waves. All around you, crewmen from the Laughing Monk are deposting crates and barrels before heading back to the ship for more. The buildings nearby all seem to be warehouses, built either of wood or brick and mortar. In front of you, a cliff rises 50', growing higher the further east you look, and slinking down to near sea level just to your west. Further east, where the docks end and a thin strip of beach separates the cliffs from the sea, you can see a cluster of shacks surrounded by small fishing boats and fish traps. "Crabbers, that way," your tour guide says as you pass. "We're headed this way." He turns west, toward the heart of the town and leads you onward.
You soon pass a structure that seems to be assembled out of the hulls of several mid-sized vessels. The warm scent of a seafood soup or stew wafts along the air as you pass, and you see a sign which reads 'The Snapping Line - Tavern and Hotel'. The kids lead onward. "You wouldn't like that place," is all that is offered as explanation as they lead onward. Further down the road, warehouses change to stately manor houses and trade offices, but the boys turn a corner hear and lead you inland. At the corner sits a boarded-up and derelict building resembling another hotel. "The old casino," you hear as the group continues on.
You soon reach another intersection. To the left, a smaller road follows around the backside of the downtown. To the right, the road heads sharply upward, following the rising terrain to more of the town nestled atop the sea cliffs. You can see a large indoor market nearby. A brick and wood sign at the edge of the road reads 'Winston's General Store.' The boys turn left, urging you to follow.
After half a block, you can see a large stone bridge up ahead in the distance, but the boys stop you in front of a two story building. It is old, but appears to be well-maintained. It has the double swinging doors that are hallmarks of a saloon, and on the porch is fixed a larger-than-life goat woven from wicker strands. Despite the crude material, the goat's face manages to convey a convincing expression of goatly anger. "This is 'The Wicker Goat,'" you guide explains. "Pa says this is where strangers and dwur most like to hang out while they're in town. Don't know much about what they have to drink, but Pa says dwur know their hooch, so it must be somethin' up your alley." He smiles and puts an arm around the shorter boy, and then the four of them stand there in front of you, patiently.
As you reach 'The Wicker Goat,' Leo descends and alights onto Fane's shoulder.
Fane:
You get glimpses of the sea from your familiar's memory. You don't see any large debris or bodies in the water. There does seem to be a strong eddy just east of the port, near the crab shacks, where a lot of small surface debris has collected.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Therris has elected to trail after the tour, not speaking, but looking over the assembled company with a detached, mildly amused expression on his face. He finally speaks when the tour reaches its finale, gesturing with three fingers in the direction of the Snapping Line. "Any reason why we'd find the Line so distasteful? I've never been particularly opposed to an establishment of ill repute, Hells Above know I've seen and smelt my share of bar brawls and beer puke, if that's the concern."
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
The tall kid runs a hand through his hair. "No, its not like that...".
"The Snapping Line ain't for outsiders. Its for Saltmarshers. Locals only," pipes up one of the others. Tall kid grimaces and glares at the upstart. "What? That's what they say-"
"What he means to say," finishes the tall kid, offering a slight sideways kick to his friend, "... is that The Wicker Goat is probably more what you're looking for, if I understand your meaning. A quick drink and some friendly faces? The Wicker Goat; that's your ticket." He flashes a winning smile.
Eron:
While you don't spend a lot of time in town, you would likely have encountered a bit of what the boys are hinting at. The poorer, fisherfolk here in Saltmarsh are a very insular community. Despite your time living nearby, you've never quite felt like you've been accepted as a 'local.' And any visits to the Snapping Line have left you feeling like your presence there was very 'noticed.'
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"Any reason why we'd find the Line so distasteful? I've never been particularly opposed to an establishment of ill repute, Hells Above know I've seen and smelt my share of bar brawls and beer puke, if that's the concern."
“It’s not distasteful or of ill repute. It’s more for older local fishermen. Not bad just… lotsa regulars. The kids have been hired to give us the best, let’s give their suggestion a try.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head.Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
Fane turns to Eron and says, “My owl was out scouting and notice that there is a lot of small debris, captured in an eddy, just east of the crab shacks. Is this normal for Saltmarsh? If not, perhaps there are clues there for anyone investigating this missing ship.”
Turning to the human children, she says “Thank you for the tour of your town, the Wicker Goat is perfect.”
Tilliman heads in as well, keeping pace with Fane. He nods in the direction of the owl... "Your familiar, I presume? Marvelous feat of magic, that... Tell me. Is it true that the magical bond between you and the spirit is so strong that you can actually share its senses? Does that include the entirety of its humors? What I mean to ask is, can a familiar experience melancholy? Or, more to the point, can you experience melancholy by proxy?"
As he asks this barrage of questions, he keeps his entire focus locked on Fane and the owl, while deftly navigating stools, patrons and other obstacles.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Giantslayer
Phandelver and Warlocks: The Shattered Obelisk - Muck (L1 Plasmoid Archfey Warlock)
Therris trips in after the rest of the gang, twirling his adder stone around his little finger as he moves. He leans down to listen to Tilliman and hisses quietly through his teeth. "Humoralist, are ya? I've never understood you types, far too academic with your superstitions. It don't help my opinion of 'em that I was down with a bout of some shivering sickness or another a couple years back, and some bleeding puck thought he'd tell me my juices were all topsy-turvy. Told me a good prick could sort me right out, and fool I was, I trusted the twiddling skint. Long story short, rat bastard nearly cost me my life, and I've stuck with good old herbal remedies and raw primal endurance since then."
Without waiting for a response, he toddles over to the bar or whatever equivalent the establishment possesses, clips his heels together, stands up straight, and pops a coin purse out of his pocket. "What's a worthless knave gotta do to pop a measure of the Devil's draught and a pile of something hot and optionally digestible down his rum gutter around here?"
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"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Fane turns to Eron and says, “My owl was out scouting and notice that there is a lot of small debris, captured in an eddy, just east of the crab shacks. Is this normal for Saltmarsh? If not, perhaps there are clues there for anyone investigating this missing ship.”
”If what you say is true… I need to go report this. I’m sorry friends, please don't consider me rude, but I need to report to my superiors. I may be back with an offer of a job, if you’re interested. I’ll try to be quick.”
Eron turns and quickly goes to locate either Tom or Will and check in and report.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head.Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
Regdus enjoys the little visit, noting in his head the different place of interests. "A place where locals gather is always good to know"he thinks to himself. He continues and once arriving at destination, he grabs another silver or make it fly once more to the leader of the small group of kids. "Here you go kiddo, make sure to share it between you, hein !".
Without hesitation, he climbs the two stairs leading to the tavern and opens the door. "Very well lads, let's get a pint or two."
This time the kids catch the silver piece like old pros. "Thanks! Let us know if we can help with anything else," they shout and begin a slow walk back toward the docks, no doubt planning how to spend their new fortune.
Fane, Therris, Tilliman and Regdus step past the wicker goat and through the swinging doors into the interior of The Wicker Goat. The inside of the tavern seems dark compared to the bright, sunlit street outside. They find themselves in a somewhat narrow but very deep common room. A long bar hugs the wall to the right, and a row of booths occupy the left wall, with round tables filling the space between. At the far end of the room, a half-wall separates this area from the kitchen, where from the smell of things someone is cooking up a hash. A narrow staircase near the kitchen leads to an upstairs.
The design and construction seems to be a mix-match of different styles and periods. As your eyes adjust to the dim light, you can see areas where the walls or floors don't match, showing signs of recent, or less than recent, repairs.
The walls are decorated with banners and tapestries from the military forces of Keoland. The royal shield of Keoland, a black lion rampant on a red field, is displayed behind the bar, next to a naval flag of some sort. There are also a number of different banners displaying different variations of a red cross on a black background. Also behind the bar is another wicker goat, this one just a bust, with bushy straw whiskers. A single mirror runs half the length of the bar, making the room look a little less narrow than it is.
The only other patrons in the bar sit at one of the booths in the back, near the kitchen. A dwur woman, dressed in an expensive looking pantsuit and bearing a stern look, sits across from two other dwur, both of them in dusty work-cloths and with hands covered in dirt.
Behind the bar, an older, lanky human with salt and pepper hair and white stubble for a beard is cleaning mugs. He grabs a rag and wipes down a wide stretch of bar as you approach. "G'day. Welcome to the Wicker Goat. The name's Lankus Kurrid. It's a pleasure to meet some new faces. You all just come in from sea? Then I'll bed you need a stick drink and some hot food. We still have a bit of boar hash leftover from breakfast we can heat up for you. What'll it be?"
He points out a chalkboard sign hanging at the end of the mirror which lists the going rate for food and drink.
Breakfast:
Wildboar Hash - 20cp
Extra Bacon - 15cp
Beer:
Keoish Golden Ale - Pint 4cp; Mug 7cp
King's Mountain Stout - Pint 4cp; Mug 7cp
Wine:
Silverstand Riesling - Bottles Only! 150cp
Spirits:
Dwurhammer Dark Rum - 2 Fingers 15cp; 5 Fingers 35cp
Royal Reserve Whiskey - High End Stuff! 2 Fingers 60cp; 5 Fingers 130cp
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Meanwhile, Eron jogs several blocks to the Marines Headquarters. Just off the dockside promenade sits a simple-looking two story seashore home, painted a sandy yellow. Unassuming though it may appear, Eron is aware the home contains an armory, supplies, and bunkrooms for the town's marine defenders.
Just as he approaches, the side door opens and out steps a man Eron recognizes - Wellgar Brinehanded, Saltmarsh's only resident cleric. He presides over the worshippers of Procan, the free-spirited God of the open sea. Like Eliander, he also lost a foot, though unlike the captain of the guard's elegantly carved replacement, Wellgar walks on a simple wooden peg. As he steps out the door he turns back over his shoulder to speak. "I understand how things are. Anything you can do, you will do so with Procan's blessing. Please, seek me out if you can find anything."
Just past him, in the doorway, you can see the leaders of the local marines, Tom and Will Stoutly.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Eron bows slightly as he passes Father Brinehanded, “May the currents flow in your favor, and wind fill your sails.” As he draws near Tom & Will he puts a hand up to his heart. He stands tall, speechless as the account of the Sealions overwhelms him for a moment.
”I… I’m sorry to report, our interception of the slaver ship about a month ago… ended in disaster. I… escaped when Seadevils overtook my captors. I washed up with debris and bodies. I’m not aware of any survivors other than myself. I recovered these.*
I’m also here to report witness of ship wreckage in the eddies off shore near Crabber’s Cove.”
*Eron bows his head and holds out the Sealion flag and their unit leader’s dagger.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head.Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
"I'll have a plate of wildboar hash with a dash of extra bacon, and marry that to a pint of the King's Stout, if you'd be so kind."
Therris carefully picks three silver coins and nine copper from his bag, sets them on the counter in a neat stack, and adds one more copper in a separate pile to round things out.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Tom's eyes go wide at the sudden appearance of Eron, and he takes the dagger and flag, looking at them numbly. Will steps forward almost immediately, placing both hands gently but firmly on Eron's shoulders. "Eron... it's alright. Not your fault, mate. We all know the line of work we're in. We're just glad to have you back."
Tom looks up and meets Eron's gaze. "Right. You brought the colors home... and if the sahuagin took down the slavers, then they got served exactly what was coming to them. I can't think of a more deserving fate for those scum." He balls up the sealion flag in curled fists.
"Thank you for bringing this news home. We had feared the worst, and though the news isn't pleasant, it is better to know for certain," Will continues. "Now, though... take some time. You've earned it. When you're ready, if you're ready, the marines will be here waiting for your return."
***
Meanwhile, the cleric of Procan has not departed, standing aside but listening to the conversation. Now, he interrupts. "Not idly have the tides brought you back ashore, lad. Nor have the winds of coincidence given you this message to deliver. I speak of the debris field you mention... the very same I spied from our bell tower upon the cliffs. The Sailor acts here, bringing us together."
He hobbles a step closer on his peg. "It is His will that those who perish beneath His waves be returned to rest in the sandy soils of their birth. As those eddies have gathered the flotsam, so too have they likely gathered the mortal remains of the fallen. I seek aid in having them brought ashore, so they can put to a proper burial. The marines..." he gestures to Tom and Will, "... are eager to help but stretched thin by circumstances. I wonder, though, if He has brought us together for a reason. Are you willing to aid the Lord of the Waves in this holy endeavor?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
“I’ll take 2 fingers of Dwurhammer dark rum please,” Fane says after Therris orders, and continues, “I kind of grew a taste for rum on my journey to your lovely town."
She speaks a few words in the Dwur tongue…
Speak like a Dwur, drink like a Dwur, cheers Moradin!
... and downs the rum. She then takes a minute to examine her surroundings in The Goat.
The dwarf approaches the chalkboard to better see the list. He reads slowly, humming in his beard, and finally calls loudly. “I will take the Wildboar, yes, with a mug of Stout if you please.”. He reaches in his pouch and grabs the coin that he place on the bar.
While waiting for the drink, he chats a bit with the owner “So my friend Lankus, let’s say I’m looking for a quick way to make some coins. Is there a place to go or a person to talk to ? I am a skilled artisan, good with both my construction hammer and my Warhammer.” As he declares this, he taps gently on the head of his weapon, attached on his back. One could see dwarves runes on it. A marvellous piece of craftsmanship.
Regdus will go seat then with his travel acquaintances. He greats Fane's toast with a large smile and reply by raising his mug "To new adventure and new riches"in commun so all the group understand.
Fane smiles at Therris, “Another drink indeed my friend.” Then she adds in the Nomiz language, looking over at Tilliman …
We’ll I assume a privy is the Nomiz word for toilet or a place to clean their eye wear, as our friend seemed to need both when he exited the Laughing Monk.
What if anything might Eron know of this ship?
History 9 so probably not much…
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head. Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
Eron:
You think you may have heard of this ship before. There are a number of vessels that regularly make port in Saltmarsh as part of their endless trade circuits around the Azure Sea. The name Belle Meade sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't say for certain where it called home or what sort of goods it carried... other than it seems to have had some apples with it based on the debris in the water.
Fane dispatches Leo to circle the harbor. The pocket-sized owl takes flight on wings that seem almost too large for its little body.
As Eron and Eliander draw closer to the rest of the group, Eliander departs. "Of course," he says to Eron. "We can catch up soon, or whenever you are ready. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other duties and it has already been a very long night. Welcome home." And to the others, he nods. "Enjoy your visit to Saltmarsh."
Meanwhile, the dock kids have huddled up in conversation; four of them now, with the apple seller and the huckster sitting at the lower and upper ends of the height spectrum, respectively. All of them are dressed in variations of overalls or dungarees and are shoeless to a number. Reaching an agreement, the tallest lad steps foreward to once again take lead. "Okay, folks. We can show ya' around. Just follow us." The turn and depart at the slightly faster than necessary pace of children, forcing the group to move briskly to keep up.
The environment here is sub-tropical, with bright, warm sunshine tempered by moderate breezes coming in off the see. Palm trees are abundant, as are shrubs and beach grasses.
The large dock for deep-hulled vessels sits at the extreme southwestern end of the Saltmarsh port. Stepping off of the dock, you see that what had looked like a beach is actually a large stone road or promenade, just covered in a layer of fine white sands blown in by wind and waves. All around you, crewmen from the Laughing Monk are deposting crates and barrels before heading back to the ship for more. The buildings nearby all seem to be warehouses, built either of wood or brick and mortar. In front of you, a cliff rises 50', growing higher the further east you look, and slinking down to near sea level just to your west. Further east, where the docks end and a thin strip of beach separates the cliffs from the sea, you can see a cluster of shacks surrounded by small fishing boats and fish traps. "Crabbers, that way," your tour guide says as you pass. "We're headed this way." He turns west, toward the heart of the town and leads you onward.
You soon pass a structure that seems to be assembled out of the hulls of several mid-sized vessels. The warm scent of a seafood soup or stew wafts along the air as you pass, and you see a sign which reads 'The Snapping Line - Tavern and Hotel'. The kids lead onward. "You wouldn't like that place," is all that is offered as explanation as they lead onward. Further down the road, warehouses change to stately manor houses and trade offices, but the boys turn a corner hear and lead you inland. At the corner sits a boarded-up and derelict building resembling another hotel. "The old casino," you hear as the group continues on.
You soon reach another intersection. To the left, a smaller road follows around the backside of the downtown. To the right, the road heads sharply upward, following the rising terrain to more of the town nestled atop the sea cliffs. You can see a large indoor market nearby. A brick and wood sign at the edge of the road reads 'Winston's General Store.' The boys turn left, urging you to follow.
After half a block, you can see a large stone bridge up ahead in the distance, but the boys stop you in front of a two story building. It is old, but appears to be well-maintained. It has the double swinging doors that are hallmarks of a saloon, and on the porch is fixed a larger-than-life goat woven from wicker strands. Despite the crude material, the goat's face manages to convey a convincing expression of goatly anger. "This is 'The Wicker Goat,'" you guide explains. "Pa says this is where strangers and dwur most like to hang out while they're in town. Don't know much about what they have to drink, but Pa says dwur know their hooch, so it must be somethin' up your alley." He smiles and puts an arm around the shorter boy, and then the four of them stand there in front of you, patiently.
As you reach 'The Wicker Goat,' Leo descends and alights onto Fane's shoulder.
Fane:
You get glimpses of the sea from your familiar's memory. You don't see any large debris or bodies in the water. There does seem to be a strong eddy just east of the port, near the crab shacks, where a lot of small surface debris has collected.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Therris has elected to trail after the tour, not speaking, but looking over the assembled company with a detached, mildly amused expression on his face. He finally speaks when the tour reaches its finale, gesturing with three fingers in the direction of the Snapping Line. "Any reason why we'd find the Line so distasteful? I've never been particularly opposed to an establishment of ill repute, Hells Above know I've seen and smelt my share of bar brawls and beer puke, if that's the concern."
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
The tall kid runs a hand through his hair. "No, its not like that...".
"The Snapping Line ain't for outsiders. Its for Saltmarshers. Locals only," pipes up one of the others. Tall kid grimaces and glares at the upstart. "What? That's what they say-"
"What he means to say," finishes the tall kid, offering a slight sideways kick to his friend, "... is that The Wicker Goat is probably more what you're looking for, if I understand your meaning. A quick drink and some friendly faces? The Wicker Goat; that's your ticket." He flashes a winning smile.
Eron:
While you don't spend a lot of time in town, you would likely have encountered a bit of what the boys are hinting at. The poorer, fisherfolk here in Saltmarsh are a very insular community. Despite your time living nearby, you've never quite felt like you've been accepted as a 'local.' And any visits to the Snapping Line have left you feeling like your presence there was very 'noticed.'
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
“It’s not distasteful or of ill repute. It’s more for older local fishermen. Not bad just… lotsa regulars. The kids have been hired to give us the best, let’s give their suggestion a try.”
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head. Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
Fane turns to Eron and says, “My owl was out scouting and notice that there is a lot of small debris, captured in an eddy, just east of the crab shacks. Is this normal for Saltmarsh? If not, perhaps there are clues there for anyone investigating this missing ship.”
Turning to the human children, she says “Thank you for the tour of your town, the Wicker Goat is perfect.”
And she heads in.
Tilliman heads in as well, keeping pace with Fane. He nods in the direction of the owl... "Your familiar, I presume? Marvelous feat of magic, that... Tell me. Is it true that the magical bond between you and the spirit is so strong that you can actually share its senses? Does that include the entirety of its humors? What I mean to ask is, can a familiar experience melancholy? Or, more to the point, can you experience melancholy by proxy?"
As he asks this barrage of questions, he keeps his entire focus locked on Fane and the owl, while deftly navigating stools, patrons and other obstacles.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Giantslayer
Phandelver and Warlocks: The Shattered Obelisk - Muck (L1 Plasmoid Archfey Warlock)
Therris trips in after the rest of the gang, twirling his adder stone around his little finger as he moves. He leans down to listen to Tilliman and hisses quietly through his teeth. "Humoralist, are ya? I've never understood you types, far too academic with your superstitions. It don't help my opinion of 'em that I was down with a bout of some shivering sickness or another a couple years back, and some bleeding puck thought he'd tell me my juices were all topsy-turvy. Told me a good prick could sort me right out, and fool I was, I trusted the twiddling skint. Long story short, rat bastard nearly cost me my life, and I've stuck with good old herbal remedies and raw primal endurance since then."
Without waiting for a response, he toddles over to the bar or whatever equivalent the establishment possesses, clips his heels together, stands up straight, and pops a coin purse out of his pocket. "What's a worthless knave gotta do to pop a measure of the Devil's draught and a pile of something hot and optionally digestible down his rum gutter around here?"
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
”If what you say is true… I need to go report this. I’m sorry friends, please don't consider me rude, but I need to report to my superiors. I may be back with an offer of a job, if you’re interested. I’ll try to be quick.”
Eron turns and quickly goes to locate either Tom or Will and check in and report.
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head. Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
Regdus enjoys the little visit, noting in his head the different place of interests. "A place where locals gather is always good to know" he thinks to himself. He continues and once arriving at destination, he grabs another silver or make it fly once more to the leader of the small group of kids. "Here you go kiddo, make sure to share it between you, hein !".
Without hesitation, he climbs the two stairs leading to the tavern and opens the door. "Very well lads, let's get a pint or two."
(removing 1 silver)
Currently Playing: Regdus Ironfist (Greyhawk) Lvl 1 Storm Sorcerer ; Goraseth Drerjoxian (Icespeak) Lvl 3 Paladin Oath of Glory; Lerak (The Wild Beyond the Witchlight) Lvl 3 Barbarian Wild Magic
In Pause: Grimnir " Shadow-Feet", Lv 11 Owner of "The Basilisk & the Monk" (OotA) - Kurma Kappa, Lv 8 Priest of Oghma (ToA)
Currently DM'ing: Princes of Apocalypse >> Tomb of Annihilation
This time the kids catch the silver piece like old pros. "Thanks! Let us know if we can help with anything else," they shout and begin a slow walk back toward the docks, no doubt planning how to spend their new fortune.
Fane, Therris, Tilliman and Regdus step past the wicker goat and through the swinging doors into the interior of The Wicker Goat. The inside of the tavern seems dark compared to the bright, sunlit street outside. They find themselves in a somewhat narrow but very deep common room. A long bar hugs the wall to the right, and a row of booths occupy the left wall, with round tables filling the space between. At the far end of the room, a half-wall separates this area from the kitchen, where from the smell of things someone is cooking up a hash. A narrow staircase near the kitchen leads to an upstairs.
The design and construction seems to be a mix-match of different styles and periods. As your eyes adjust to the dim light, you can see areas where the walls or floors don't match, showing signs of recent, or less than recent, repairs.
The walls are decorated with banners and tapestries from the military forces of Keoland. The royal shield of Keoland, a black lion rampant on a red field, is displayed behind the bar, next to a naval flag of some sort. There are also a number of different banners displaying different variations of a red cross on a black background. Also behind the bar is another wicker goat, this one just a bust, with bushy straw whiskers. A single mirror runs half the length of the bar, making the room look a little less narrow than it is.
The only other patrons in the bar sit at one of the booths in the back, near the kitchen. A dwur woman, dressed in an expensive looking pantsuit and bearing a stern look, sits across from two other dwur, both of them in dusty work-cloths and with hands covered in dirt.
Behind the bar, an older, lanky human with salt and pepper hair and white stubble for a beard is cleaning mugs. He grabs a rag and wipes down a wide stretch of bar as you approach. "G'day. Welcome to the Wicker Goat. The name's Lankus Kurrid. It's a pleasure to meet some new faces. You all just come in from sea? Then I'll bed you need a stick drink and some hot food. We still have a bit of boar hash leftover from breakfast we can heat up for you. What'll it be?"
He points out a chalkboard sign hanging at the end of the mirror which lists the going rate for food and drink.
Breakfast:
Beer:
Wine:
Spirits:
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Meanwhile, Eron jogs several blocks to the Marines Headquarters. Just off the dockside promenade sits a simple-looking two story seashore home, painted a sandy yellow. Unassuming though it may appear, Eron is aware the home contains an armory, supplies, and bunkrooms for the town's marine defenders.
Just as he approaches, the side door opens and out steps a man Eron recognizes - Wellgar Brinehanded, Saltmarsh's only resident cleric. He presides over the worshippers of Procan, the free-spirited God of the open sea. Like Eliander, he also lost a foot, though unlike the captain of the guard's elegantly carved replacement, Wellgar walks on a simple wooden peg. As he steps out the door he turns back over his shoulder to speak. "I understand how things are. Anything you can do, you will do so with Procan's blessing. Please, seek me out if you can find anything."
Just past him, in the doorway, you can see the leaders of the local marines, Tom and Will Stoutly.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Eron bows slightly as he passes Father Brinehanded, “May the currents flow in your favor, and wind fill your sails.” As he draws near Tom & Will he puts a hand up to his heart. He stands tall, speechless as the account of the Sealions overwhelms him for a moment.
”I… I’m sorry to report, our interception of the slaver ship about a month ago… ended in disaster. I… escaped when Seadevils overtook my captors. I washed up with debris and bodies. I’m not aware of any survivors other than myself. I recovered these.*
I’m also here to report witness of ship wreckage in the eddies off shore near Crabber’s Cove.”
*Eron bows his head and holds out the Sealion flag and their unit leader’s dagger.
Eron, Greyhawk: Tides of War. Leif, Tomb of Horrors. Zinzenzax, Dragons of Stormwreck Isle. Sha-gravis, Heavy is the Head. Chase, mamoduck’s Lost Mine of Phandelver, Atigash Count’s Lament
"I'll have a plate of wildboar hash with a dash of extra bacon, and marry that to a pint of the King's Stout, if you'd be so kind."
Therris carefully picks three silver coins and nine copper from his bag, sets them on the counter in a neat stack, and adds one more copper in a separate pile to round things out.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
At the Marine HQ
Tom's eyes go wide at the sudden appearance of Eron, and he takes the dagger and flag, looking at them numbly. Will steps forward almost immediately, placing both hands gently but firmly on Eron's shoulders. "Eron... it's alright. Not your fault, mate. We all know the line of work we're in. We're just glad to have you back."
Tom looks up and meets Eron's gaze. "Right. You brought the colors home... and if the sahuagin took down the slavers, then they got served exactly what was coming to them. I can't think of a more deserving fate for those scum." He balls up the sealion flag in curled fists.
"Thank you for bringing this news home. We had feared the worst, and though the news isn't pleasant, it is better to know for certain," Will continues. "Now, though... take some time. You've earned it. When you're ready, if you're ready, the marines will be here waiting for your return."
***
Meanwhile, the cleric of Procan has not departed, standing aside but listening to the conversation. Now, he interrupts. "Not idly have the tides brought you back ashore, lad. Nor have the winds of coincidence given you this message to deliver. I speak of the debris field you mention... the very same I spied from our bell tower upon the cliffs. The Sailor acts here, bringing us together."
He hobbles a step closer on his peg. "It is His will that those who perish beneath His waves be returned to rest in the sandy soils of their birth. As those eddies have gathered the flotsam, so too have they likely gathered the mortal remains of the fallen. I seek aid in having them brought ashore, so they can put to a proper burial. The marines..." he gestures to Tom and Will, "... are eager to help but stretched thin by circumstances. I wonder, though, if He has brought us together for a reason. Are you willing to aid the Lord of the Waves in this holy endeavor?"
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
“I’ll take 2 fingers of Dwurhammer dark rum please,” Fane says after Therris orders, and continues, “I kind of grew a taste for rum on my journey to your lovely town."
She speaks a few words in the Dwur tongue…
Speak like a Dwur, drink like a Dwur, cheers Moradin!
... and downs the rum. She then takes a minute to examine her surroundings in The Goat.
The dwarf approaches the chalkboard to better see the list. He reads slowly, humming in his beard, and finally calls loudly. “I will take the Wildboar, yes, with a mug of Stout if you please.”. He reaches in his pouch and grabs the coin that he place on the bar.
While waiting for the drink, he chats a bit with the owner “So my friend Lankus, let’s say I’m looking for a quick way to make some coins. Is there a place to go or a person to talk to ? I am a skilled artisan, good with both my construction hammer and my Warhammer.” As he declares this, he taps gently on the head of his weapon, attached on his back. One could see dwarves runes on it. A marvellous piece of craftsmanship.
Regdus will go seat then with his travel acquaintances. He greats Fane's toast with a large smile and reply by raising his mug "To new adventure and new riches" in commun so all the group understand.
Removing 27 coppers.
Currently Playing: Regdus Ironfist (Greyhawk) Lvl 1 Storm Sorcerer ; Goraseth Drerjoxian (Icespeak) Lvl 3 Paladin Oath of Glory; Lerak (The Wild Beyond the Witchlight) Lvl 3 Barbarian Wild Magic
In Pause: Grimnir " Shadow-Feet", Lv 11 Owner of "The Basilisk & the Monk" (OotA) - Kurma Kappa, Lv 8 Priest of Oghma (ToA)
Currently DM'ing: Princes of Apocalypse >> Tomb of Annihilation
Therris responds in Dwur. "𐌃𐌐𐌉𐌍𐌊 Ꮦ𐌉𐌊𐌀𐌁𐌋𐌉𐌕𐋅 𐌄𐌍 𐌃Ꮦ𐌄𐌐Ᏽ, 𐌃Ꝋ𐌊𐌊 ᏵꝊ𐌕𐌄𐌊 𐌁𐌄𐌊𐌍𐌀 ᕓ𐌀𐌄𐌌 𐌄𐌍 𐌓𐌐𐌉ᕓ𐌙 Ꮦ𐌐. ᕓꝊ𐌕𐋅'𐌋𐌋 Ꮦ𐌀𐌋𐌀, Ꝋ𐌋ᕓ. "
"Drink like a Dwur, but don't know what a privy is. We'll see, Olve."
He proceeds to down the drink, and raises an eyebrow at Fane, seemingly challenging her to join him for another.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Fane smiles at Therris, “Another drink indeed my friend.” Then she adds in the Nomiz language, looking over at Tilliman …
We’ll I assume a privy is the Nomiz word for toilet or a place to clean their eye wear, as our friend seemed to need both when he exited the Laughing Monk.
Therris blinks, seemingly not understanding a word of what Fane's just said.
"Another round, then!" He slaps a few more coins down, and downs another pint.
(Time to day drink!)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."