Ten-Towns, the last settlement before reaching the edge of the world, lies in the cold depths of the north. The residents of Icewind Dale have always known the place to breed hardy people, and for the simple pleasures of its natural beauty. Communication between Ten-Towns and the outside world, however, has all but ceased. One of its naturally cold winters came, and has never ended. Even though the year moved well into Spring, and almost to Summer, the ice refused to melt, the storms refused to cease, and the once bearable winter conditions now threaten to end life in Ten-Towns as it has been for years. It has been this way for almost two years now. The only possibility is that something the towns have done has angered Auril, the Frostmaiden who presides over winter. Her shimmering aurora appears each night to blot out the sun, and is now the only way people can tell the difference between night and day. The goddess seems deaf to the settlement's pleas, which has driven the locals to begin making annual sacrifices in the hopes that she will lift the eternal winter she has plunged them into. Making matters worse, strange black metal objects have been appearing in the woods, and it is said that those who find them don't make it back to town through the blizzards. And then there are the strange footprints appearing in the snow outside every town; they look humanoid, but they don't seem to have a source. Strange things indeed are happening in the frozen north; will heroes rise to the call?
Ten-Towns was founded four hundred years ago; most who are born here will live here their entire life. The people are fishers, loggers, miners, hunters, trappers, and traders who were once accustomed to this harsh climate. With few trees, lumber comes almost exclusively from the Pine of the World and Lonelywoods' forest. Stone from the hills and valleys surrounding Kelvin's Cairn supplement wood as building material. Buildings have sharply pitched roofs to prevent the snow from accumulating. The people of Ten-Towns, if they are not blessed with cold resistance by either their heritage or the Frostmaiden's favor, wear heavy fur cloaks to keep out the cold. Outdoors, it can be hard to tell the residents apart under their massive cloaks. For adventurers such as yourselves, this is a place to test your mettle, and, perhaps, leave your mark upon this frigid, blighted land.
Though Ten-Towns as a whole will be the stage for this tale, the story begins in Bremen. Founded by dwarven prospectors, this sleep town sits on the west bank of Maer Dualdon, at the mouth of the Shaengarne River. While the harbor has frozen over, the lake itself has not, allowing fishers and travelers alike to carry rowboats out to the edge of the ice. From the docks, the towns of Targos, Lonelywood, and Termalaine are visible in the distance. twice in the past month, its Town Speaker, Dorbulgref Shalescar, has been found wandering the frozen wastes with no memory of how he got there; senility may force the old dwarf to retire soon.
The town has agreed to sacrifice its warmth to Auril, int he hopes that she hears their pleas to end the winter. On all but two days a week, fires for anything other than cooking have been forbidden, and the hardier (and more foolish) folk have taken to attempting outdoor travel without their cloaks in an effort to appease the Frostmaiden. A man was caught lighting a fire for warmth out of schedule last week, and a group of the town's hunters beat him savagely for it.
Places of note in town include:
- The Buried Treasures Inn. Located near the riverbank, it was established for those who once panned the river for gold in warm weather. It boasts the best service in town.
- Five Center Tavern. A quintet of taverns supposedly owned by the same families in a small square. They are Stones, Even Keel, River's Mouth, Grumpy Moose, and Black-Bearded Brother. They are old, poorly maintained taverns.
- The Docks. With the river treacherously frozen over, these are the primary means of entry and exit into town, though some travelers who pack light risk the river on foot.
Morkeleb spends another morning helping the fishermen haul their boats across snow and ice to where the water is. It’s no great task for him, as he is powerfully built. Muscles ripple underneath reptilian white scales. His tail lashes a sinuous path in the snow as he trudges along. A bone-hard row of sharp spinous processes line his entire spine, becoming more prominent about the shoulders, and then fan out into a ridged natural crown on top of his dragon-shaped head.
His dragon ancestors have bestowed on him great tolerance to this icy climate, and he doesn’t wear much in the way of warm clothing. Chain mail clinks against his chest, and a large sword and shield are strapped to his back. One never knows when a moment for glory may present itself.
The fisherman whose boat he carries has to step double-time to keep up with his powerful strides. “Thanks again, Morkeleb, awful kind of you. My first catch of the day goes to you!”
Morkeleb shows many teeth as he grins at the older man. But inside his thoughts are more depressed. There just isn’t much glory to be had in helping these fishermen. It’s kind and good, but nobody’s going to write a ballad about it… He’s starting to realize he may need to move away from Bremen if he’s to make his mark on the world.
As you finish setting down the last of the boats, you notice a commotion in the water. Two shivering figures, a dwarf and a human, are struggling to climb out of the water and onto the ice a few yards away from you. The fisherman with you rushes to help them, and when the two of them are safely on the ice, huddling together, one of them is muttering to himself, "What was that thing? What moves like that? It came out of nowhere..."
The other looks about as if expecting to see more people around him and manages two words, "Where's Karl?"
Morkeleb drops the boat and rushes to pull the two people out of the water. He will physically manhandle each of them, lifting them out and away.
”You’re all wet, you’ll catch your death! What’s going on, what happened, where’s… wheres your boat?! And where’s Karl?!”
[I’d like to assume that Morkeleb knows Karl at least a little]
Morkeleb is torn on what to do. Swim out and find Karl? That sounds ridiculous. He’d have to doff his armor and weapons, too. If Karl is out there in the lake, he’s as good as gone. But heroic deeds call to him… He has half a mind to stride right out into the lake. But wait, see what the other two have to say first.
Barnabus begins his rounds near the docks. Angry that his leave had been canceled he grumbles a bit more than usual.
"Bah, just let me catch someone sparking up today. I'll thump their melons for getting my leave canceled. Rules exist for a reason people. Bah, and then ol' Shalescar going off his nut so now I got to watch for him too."
Barnabus mutters and kicks icy clumps in protest. With a huff he grumbles and says, "Bah, Just tie a rope around him and attach it to something heavy. Heh, Problem solved!"
The small chin jutt accompanying the last declaration raised his sight line to activity on the docks. All exaggerated rievances and grumbles instantly fade at the Emergence of actual need. Moving as fast as his splint will allow him Barnabus clanks his way towards the commotion.
Nox is lounging on the edge of the ice overlooking the sea, his ivory scales gently reflecting the small flecks of light still preserved by the bobbing swells. His coloration is quite unusual for a Silver Dragonborn as many of the horns protruding from his crown and down along his vertebrae are a shimmering gold. A similar color is found on a jagged pattern of scales extending from his elbows to his wrists, though these are currently covered by a massive navy greatcoat slung over his back. Even though it's far colder than it used to be, the sea breeze and whiplike winds bring back waves of nostalgia. Life at sea was his peak, and now he was an errand boy. This morning of quiet reminiscing was interrupted by a few pointed shards being thrown into his face by the wind. As Nox brushes them away, he stares at the gleaming symbol of a dragon’s head embedded into his palm, the emblem of Bahumat.
Ostensibly, he was commanded to come to Bremen to help the townsfolk, which while a routine order and an expected part of his service, didn’t seem necessary. The people seemed to have adapted better than most to this new era of Icewind Dale. They even have themselves new rituals, he thought to himself as he glanced down at his unlit pipe that he had been fiddling with. Of course, it's not like Nox troubled himself in searching any part of the town that wasn’t the docks or taverns, but he had easily resigned himself to the mantra that if his assistance was vital, then he should be made plainly aware of it.
Morkeleb easily hauls the two castaways onto the ice, which holds strong beneath everyone's weight. Barnabus would arrive just in time to hear their conversation. The human continues muttering to himself, rambling incoherently about whatever it is that happened to them. The dwarf hugs himself, both for warmth and to mentally pull himself together.
"Our boat," he says, "c-c-capsized. Felt like something shoved us from underwater. We was just trying to c-c-catch some fish for tonight. Karl was with us when we went into the water. I don't see him out there now though. Must've gotten ashore elsewhere. C-c-can either of ya' spare a cloak?" He asks as he shivers again.
As he speaks, the waves of the lake cause some debris to float into the frozen docks. Close observation would reveal it to be just the bow of a small rowboat, with nothing else attached.
Nox:
Far enough away to have not heard this, commotion, you enjoy the cool breeze as what appears to be small pieces of driftwood float past you gently. You're loosely aware that a half-elven woman is also sitting near the docks, though with all her layers, you can only tell because she has her hood down. For the whole time you've been here, she has been staring out at the lake and meticulously working away with a pencil and sketchpad.
The woman intrigued Nox as from what he’d seen since coming to town, most dedicated their time and energy to survival and had allowed simple hobbies to fall by the wayside. Add in the fact that she seemed perfectly content with being by the frozen docks while doing so, he made his way to her and asked “Mind if I see what you’re drawing?”
The woman looks up from her work, surprised that someone is approaching her here.
"You care about my work? I appreciate that! My name is Tali, and I've been coming to this lake every morning for two weeks now after hearing rumors in the taverns. I've managed a few sightings so far and while the exact details still aren't perfectly defined I think I'm making great progress! Please, take a look and tell me what you think. It's being built piece by piece, so if you'll star here..."
Her speech speeds up rapidly as she talks, visibly ecstatic that somebody is interested in this. As she shows you a few pages of her sketchbook, you see a well-made sketch of the lake's surface on the first page. She flips through several, and each new page has a small addition to it. When you reach the last, you realize she's trying to draw some sort of large fish, but has been doing it piecemeal on account of only seeing parts of it above the water. Her most recent drawing includes an unsettling amount of sharp teeth, though the mishappen image of the fish suggests she still hasn't seen it's full body and is doing some guesswork.
"I'm still uncertain of the size, but I'm so close to having a proper image of it! I've tried showing the dockmaster and the fishermen my work, but they keep blowing me off an insisting that there's nothing out there. And I suppose they've lost eight boats this past month to underwater icebergs. Bah."
Nox is a little taken aback by the woman’s sudden enthusiasm, but hides any surprise with a toothy grin. “Names Nox and I gotta say I’m impressed,” he said, pointing a claw at the sketchbook. “How long has that thing been in these waters? I’m new to these parts and I personally hadn’t heard about anything like that. Though to be fair, it's not like I’ve heard much to begin with,” he chuckles. “Also aren’t you cold out here with no hood? I don’t really need this coat for warmth so I can lend it to ya if you’d like.”
Morkeleb relaxes a bit when the fisherman explains that Karl must have gotten ashore somewhere else. He’s not the sharpest fang in the maw, as they used to say back home, and takes the rationalization at face-value.
”Sorry,” he says with a shrug, “I don’t have much need for warm clothes, myself. We’ve got to get you home, build a fire…. Oh no.” He remembers the town’s new rule to not light fires. The wheels turn in his mind, and a plan forms.
”Let’s hurry home and get you warmed up. Both of you, now!” He’ll grab them each by the arm and start hauling them back to town. His intention is to start a fire in the fisherman’s home, get the pair of them warming up, and then go find the Town Speaker. He’s aware of the old dwarf’s ailing mental faculties, and hopes that he can use that to his advantage and get the Town Speaker’s blessing on the use of the fire.
He will eye Barnabus the the guard as he starts trying to haul the freezing fishermen away. Did he hear about getting warmed up? Is he going to cause trouble, snitch on him for lighting a fire? Morkeleb will belatedly add in a loud voice, “We need to cook you up some hot soup and get it in you, right away!”
A new idea hits Morkeleb at the last moment. “You there, Barnabus! Karl must have come ashore somewhere around here, can you find him? He will need help!”
"Oh, thank you, but I can just put my hood up. Presumably it's been here forever. Or well, it's family. You can never have just one after all. But there have only been sightings fairly recently, so either it did somehow flop along the land unnoticed, or something has driven it to the surface recently. The fishermen have been talking about it for a few weeks now, but the dockmaster has a vested interest in denying it."
"Understood." says the dwarf. He looks about for a moment for a hank of rope. Once he has on he sets off. [Not sure the directional status here so facing the water he heads left.]
Barnabus, roll a perception check as you scan the lake's shore.
If you roll below 12, read this:
You don't spot anybody along the shoreline. Perhaps he got picked up by another boat. Unless he's still underwater?
If 12 or higher, read this:
You initially see no signs of another castaway, but after several minutes of searching, you spot an object floating in the water. It appears to be a dwarf's foot, jaggedly ripped off just above the ankle.
“I suppose that makes sense, profits and supplies go down if everybody realizes there’s a giant fish mauling people,” Nox replies as he sits down on the ice beside Tali. “But do the fishermen as a whole believe in it or in what you're saying? If they do, you all should gather and force the guy into taking this seriously. I can back you up. I know towns such as these don’t exactly value outsiders messing around with their business, but I do have a bit of divine legitimacy on my side,” he smirks while displaying the symbol on his palm.
Tali considers it for a moment. "It varies. Some of them haven't seen anything and keep going out there. Some of them swear they won't go out again because of it. Even the locals that know are being accused of making up tales to cover that they just wrecked a boat. I've tried telling them the lake is unsafe, but my drawings aren't exactly hard proof."
She sighs and puts her hood up, apparently content with her sketch work for the morning. Her enthusiasm fades into something a bit more somber.
"Still, if you happen to see any proof or learn anything about it, I'd appreciate more information. We might be able to convince people if we could properly identify it. If you don't mind, I've been out here too long for one person, so I'll be heading back to my room. I'm staying at Buried Treasures, if you happen to see anything out here."
And with that, she takes her sketchpad back, gives the lake one wistful look, and departs from the docks.
Morkeleb:
The two men are having a bit of trouble walking straight after their experience, but huddle together and kind of just allow you to drag them towards town. The more coherent of the pair mentions that they'll have to report the lost boat to the dockmaster, but accepts that he's in no position to rush into that.
Morkeleb murmurs reassurances to them that he will handle it all, as he herds them to one of their houses and gets a fire going. Having set them up nicely, he will next seek out the Town Speaker. He knows the man is senile but perhaps that will work to their advantage.
Your charges are grateful for the help. You are able to get them into the human's home, throw some blankets over them, and start a small cooking fire that hopefully won't draw attention.
It takes a bit of searching to find the town speaker, but around noon, you wander into the Grumpy Moose, of the five center taverns. It's a relatively quiet time for them. You spot Speaker Shalescar, and elderly dwarf who's vacant-eyed stare could easily be mistaken for unflappableness, having a small meal at the bar. He is accompanied by a fat dwarf you would know to be Dockmaster Grynsk, who is speaking to him while downing a mug of cheap ale.
You can hear a piece of Grynsk's conversation, "...fusing to go out there now. We need that fish to keep the town running. Can't you make a little, I don't know, short-term decree to get the boys back out there? It'll prove we don't have any problems except a few drunken fishermen, and get the food supply back up."
Elsewhere in the tavern, a bundled up individual drinks in a corner, and two shirtless young men seem to have recently arrived, and are regretting their devotion to sacrificing warmth today by downing a few more ales than they planned to.
As he watches Tali retreat, Nox silently grumbles to himself. Afterall, it's hard to ignore an issue when you’ve directly asked about it even though it would be far nicer just to spend his time in town tavern hopping. Still, he shudders to himself thinking about how with the amount of ships in these waters, whatever this creature is must have claimed some of them. His body starts to involuntarily shiver as a painful reminder of his last encounter at sea and he begins to march towards the closest group of fishermen he can find by the docks
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Ten-Towns, the last settlement before reaching the edge of the world, lies in the cold depths of the north. The residents of Icewind Dale have always known the place to breed hardy people, and for the simple pleasures of its natural beauty. Communication between Ten-Towns and the outside world, however, has all but ceased. One of its naturally cold winters came, and has never ended. Even though the year moved well into Spring, and almost to Summer, the ice refused to melt, the storms refused to cease, and the once bearable winter conditions now threaten to end life in Ten-Towns as it has been for years. It has been this way for almost two years now. The only possibility is that something the towns have done has angered Auril, the Frostmaiden who presides over winter. Her shimmering aurora appears each night to blot out the sun, and is now the only way people can tell the difference between night and day. The goddess seems deaf to the settlement's pleas, which has driven the locals to begin making annual sacrifices in the hopes that she will lift the eternal winter she has plunged them into. Making matters worse, strange black metal objects have been appearing in the woods, and it is said that those who find them don't make it back to town through the blizzards. And then there are the strange footprints appearing in the snow outside every town; they look humanoid, but they don't seem to have a source. Strange things indeed are happening in the frozen north; will heroes rise to the call?
Ten-Towns was founded four hundred years ago; most who are born here will live here their entire life. The people are fishers, loggers, miners, hunters, trappers, and traders who were once accustomed to this harsh climate. With few trees, lumber comes almost exclusively from the Pine of the World and Lonelywoods' forest. Stone from the hills and valleys surrounding Kelvin's Cairn supplement wood as building material. Buildings have sharply pitched roofs to prevent the snow from accumulating. The people of Ten-Towns, if they are not blessed with cold resistance by either their heritage or the Frostmaiden's favor, wear heavy fur cloaks to keep out the cold. Outdoors, it can be hard to tell the residents apart under their massive cloaks. For adventurers such as yourselves, this is a place to test your mettle, and, perhaps, leave your mark upon this frigid, blighted land.
Though Ten-Towns as a whole will be the stage for this tale, the story begins in Bremen. Founded by dwarven prospectors, this sleep town sits on the west bank of Maer Dualdon, at the mouth of the Shaengarne River. While the harbor has frozen over, the lake itself has not, allowing fishers and travelers alike to carry rowboats out to the edge of the ice. From the docks, the towns of Targos, Lonelywood, and Termalaine are visible in the distance. twice in the past month, its Town Speaker, Dorbulgref Shalescar, has been found wandering the frozen wastes with no memory of how he got there; senility may force the old dwarf to retire soon.
The town has agreed to sacrifice its warmth to Auril, int he hopes that she hears their pleas to end the winter. On all but two days a week, fires for anything other than cooking have been forbidden, and the hardier (and more foolish) folk have taken to attempting outdoor travel without their cloaks in an effort to appease the Frostmaiden. A man was caught lighting a fire for warmth out of schedule last week, and a group of the town's hunters beat him savagely for it.
Places of note in town include:
- The Buried Treasures Inn. Located near the riverbank, it was established for those who once panned the river for gold in warm weather. It boasts the best service in town.
- Five Center Tavern. A quintet of taverns supposedly owned by the same families in a small square. They are Stones, Even Keel, River's Mouth, Grumpy Moose, and Black-Bearded Brother. They are old, poorly maintained taverns.
- The Docks. With the river treacherously frozen over, these are the primary means of entry and exit into town, though some travelers who pack light risk the river on foot.
Morkeleb spends another morning helping the fishermen haul their boats across snow and ice to where the water is. It’s no great task for him, as he is powerfully built. Muscles ripple underneath reptilian white scales. His tail lashes a sinuous path in the snow as he trudges along. A bone-hard row of sharp spinous processes line his entire spine, becoming more prominent about the shoulders, and then fan out into a ridged natural crown on top of his dragon-shaped head.
His dragon ancestors have bestowed on him great tolerance to this icy climate, and he doesn’t wear much in the way of warm clothing. Chain mail clinks against his chest, and a large sword and shield are strapped to his back. One never knows when a moment for glory may present itself.
The fisherman whose boat he carries has to step double-time to keep up with his powerful strides. “Thanks again, Morkeleb, awful kind of you. My first catch of the day goes to you!”
Morkeleb shows many teeth as he grins at the older man. But inside his thoughts are more depressed. There just isn’t much glory to be had in helping these fishermen. It’s kind and good, but nobody’s going to write a ballad about it… He’s starting to realize he may need to move away from Bremen if he’s to make his mark on the world.
As you finish setting down the last of the boats, you notice a commotion in the water. Two shivering figures, a dwarf and a human, are struggling to climb out of the water and onto the ice a few yards away from you. The fisherman with you rushes to help them, and when the two of them are safely on the ice, huddling together, one of them is muttering to himself, "What was that thing? What moves like that? It came out of nowhere..."
The other looks about as if expecting to see more people around him and manages two words, "Where's Karl?"
Morkeleb drops the boat and rushes to pull the two people out of the water. He will physically manhandle each of them, lifting them out and away.
”You’re all wet, you’ll catch your death! What’s going on, what happened, where’s… wheres your boat?! And where’s Karl?!”
[I’d like to assume that Morkeleb knows Karl at least a little]
Morkeleb is torn on what to do. Swim out and find Karl? That sounds ridiculous. He’d have to doff his armor and weapons, too. If Karl is out there in the lake, he’s as good as gone. But heroic deeds call to him… He has half a mind to stride right out into the lake. But wait, see what the other two have to say first.
Barnabus begins his rounds near the docks. Angry that his leave had been canceled he grumbles a bit more than usual.
"Bah, just let me catch someone sparking up today. I'll thump their melons for getting my leave canceled. Rules exist for a reason people. Bah, and then ol' Shalescar going off his nut so now I got to watch for him too."
Barnabus mutters and kicks icy clumps in protest. With a huff he grumbles and says, "Bah, Just tie a rope around him and attach it to something heavy. Heh, Problem solved!"
The small chin jutt accompanying the last declaration raised his sight line to activity on the docks. All exaggerated rievances and grumbles instantly fade at the Emergence of actual need. Moving as fast as his splint will allow him Barnabus clanks his way towards the commotion.
"Hey there what's the issue!?"
Rogue Quin Oberon /Mercer's Tavern
Ranger Rigel Foresyth /LMOP
Fighter Barnabus Ironheel /North lands campaign
Fighter Flynt McGraw /Stormraider
Nox is lounging on the edge of the ice overlooking the sea, his ivory scales gently reflecting the small flecks of light still preserved by the bobbing swells. His coloration is quite unusual for a Silver Dragonborn as many of the horns protruding from his crown and down along his vertebrae are a shimmering gold. A similar color is found on a jagged pattern of scales extending from his elbows to his wrists, though these are currently covered by a massive navy greatcoat slung over his back. Even though it's far colder than it used to be, the sea breeze and whiplike winds bring back waves of nostalgia. Life at sea was his peak, and now he was an errand boy. This morning of quiet reminiscing was interrupted by a few pointed shards being thrown into his face by the wind. As Nox brushes them away, he stares at the gleaming symbol of a dragon’s head embedded into his palm, the emblem of Bahumat.
Ostensibly, he was commanded to come to Bremen to help the townsfolk, which while a routine order and an expected part of his service, didn’t seem necessary. The people seemed to have adapted better than most to this new era of Icewind Dale. They even have themselves new rituals, he thought to himself as he glanced down at his unlit pipe that he had been fiddling with. Of course, it's not like Nox troubled himself in searching any part of the town that wasn’t the docks or taverns, but he had easily resigned himself to the mantra that if his assistance was vital, then he should be made plainly aware of it.
Morkeleb and Barnabus:
Morkeleb easily hauls the two castaways onto the ice, which holds strong beneath everyone's weight. Barnabus would arrive just in time to hear their conversation. The human continues muttering to himself, rambling incoherently about whatever it is that happened to them. The dwarf hugs himself, both for warmth and to mentally pull himself together.
"Our boat," he says, "c-c-capsized. Felt like something shoved us from underwater. We was just trying to c-c-catch some fish for tonight. Karl was with us when we went into the water. I don't see him out there now though. Must've gotten ashore elsewhere. C-c-can either of ya' spare a cloak?" He asks as he shivers again.
As he speaks, the waves of the lake cause some debris to float into the frozen docks. Close observation would reveal it to be just the bow of a small rowboat, with nothing else attached.
Nox:
Far enough away to have not heard this, commotion, you enjoy the cool breeze as what appears to be small pieces of driftwood float past you gently. You're loosely aware that a half-elven woman is also sitting near the docks, though with all her layers, you can only tell because she has her hood down. For the whole time you've been here, she has been staring out at the lake and meticulously working away with a pencil and sketchpad.
The woman intrigued Nox as from what he’d seen since coming to town, most dedicated their time and energy to survival and had allowed simple hobbies to fall by the wayside. Add in the fact that she seemed perfectly content with being by the frozen docks while doing so, he made his way to her and asked “Mind if I see what you’re drawing?”
Nox:
The woman looks up from her work, surprised that someone is approaching her here.
"You care about my work? I appreciate that! My name is Tali, and I've been coming to this lake every morning for two weeks now after hearing rumors in the taverns. I've managed a few sightings so far and while the exact details still aren't perfectly defined I think I'm making great progress! Please, take a look and tell me what you think. It's being built piece by piece, so if you'll star here..."
Her speech speeds up rapidly as she talks, visibly ecstatic that somebody is interested in this. As she shows you a few pages of her sketchbook, you see a well-made sketch of the lake's surface on the first page. She flips through several, and each new page has a small addition to it. When you reach the last, you realize she's trying to draw some sort of large fish, but has been doing it piecemeal on account of only seeing parts of it above the water. Her most recent drawing includes an unsettling amount of sharp teeth, though the mishappen image of the fish suggests she still hasn't seen it's full body and is doing some guesswork.
"I'm still uncertain of the size, but I'm so close to having a proper image of it! I've tried showing the dockmaster and the fishermen my work, but they keep blowing me off an insisting that there's nothing out there. And I suppose they've lost eight boats this past month to underwater icebergs. Bah."
Nox is a little taken aback by the woman’s sudden enthusiasm, but hides any surprise with a toothy grin. “Names Nox and I gotta say I’m impressed,” he said, pointing a claw at the sketchbook. “How long has that thing been in these waters? I’m new to these parts and I personally hadn’t heard about anything like that. Though to be fair, it's not like I’ve heard much to begin with,” he chuckles. “Also aren’t you cold out here with no hood? I don’t really need this coat for warmth so I can lend it to ya if you’d like.”
Morkeleb relaxes a bit when the fisherman explains that Karl must have gotten ashore somewhere else. He’s not the sharpest fang in the maw, as they used to say back home, and takes the rationalization at face-value.
”Sorry,” he says with a shrug, “I don’t have much need for warm clothes, myself. We’ve got to get you home, build a fire…. Oh no.” He remembers the town’s new rule to not light fires. The wheels turn in his mind, and a plan forms.
”Let’s hurry home and get you warmed up. Both of you, now!” He’ll grab them each by the arm and start hauling them back to town. His intention is to start a fire in the fisherman’s home, get the pair of them warming up, and then go find the Town Speaker. He’s aware of the old dwarf’s ailing mental faculties, and hopes that he can use that to his advantage and get the Town Speaker’s blessing on the use of the fire.
He will eye Barnabus the the guard as he starts trying to haul the freezing fishermen away. Did he hear about getting warmed up? Is he going to cause trouble, snitch on him for lighting a fire? Morkeleb will belatedly add in a loud voice, “We need to cook you up some hot soup and get it in you, right away!”
A new idea hits Morkeleb at the last moment. “You there, Barnabus! Karl must have come ashore somewhere around here, can you find him? He will need help!”
Nox:
"Oh, thank you, but I can just put my hood up. Presumably it's been here forever. Or well, it's family. You can never have just one after all. But there have only been sightings fairly recently, so either it did somehow flop along the land unnoticed, or something has driven it to the surface recently. The fishermen have been talking about it for a few weeks now, but the dockmaster has a vested interest in denying it."
"Understood." says the dwarf. He looks about for a moment for a hank of rope. Once he has on he sets off. [Not sure the directional status here so facing the water he heads left.]
Rogue Quin Oberon /Mercer's Tavern
Ranger Rigel Foresyth /LMOP
Fighter Barnabus Ironheel /North lands campaign
Fighter Flynt McGraw /Stormraider
Barnabus, roll a perception check as you scan the lake's shore.
If you roll below 12, read this:
You don't spot anybody along the shoreline. Perhaps he got picked up by another boat. Unless he's still underwater?
If 12 or higher, read this:
You initially see no signs of another castaway, but after several minutes of searching, you spot an object floating in the water. It appears to be a dwarf's foot, jaggedly ripped off just above the ankle.
“I suppose that makes sense, profits and supplies go down if everybody realizes there’s a giant fish mauling people,” Nox replies as he sits down on the ice beside Tali. “But do the fishermen as a whole believe in it or in what you're saying? If they do, you all should gather and force the guy into taking this seriously. I can back you up. I know towns such as these don’t exactly value outsiders messing around with their business, but I do have a bit of divine legitimacy on my side,” he smirks while displaying the symbol on his palm.
Nox:
Tali considers it for a moment. "It varies. Some of them haven't seen anything and keep going out there. Some of them swear they won't go out again because of it. Even the locals that know are being accused of making up tales to cover that they just wrecked a boat. I've tried telling them the lake is unsafe, but my drawings aren't exactly hard proof."
She sighs and puts her hood up, apparently content with her sketch work for the morning. Her enthusiasm fades into something a bit more somber.
"Still, if you happen to see any proof or learn anything about it, I'd appreciate more information. We might be able to convince people if we could properly identify it. If you don't mind, I've been out here too long for one person, so I'll be heading back to my room. I'm staying at Buried Treasures, if you happen to see anything out here."
And with that, she takes her sketchpad back, gives the lake one wistful look, and departs from the docks.
Morkeleb:
The two men are having a bit of trouble walking straight after their experience, but huddle together and kind of just allow you to drag them towards town. The more coherent of the pair mentions that they'll have to report the lost boat to the dockmaster, but accepts that he's in no position to rush into that.
Morkeleb murmurs reassurances to them that he will handle it all, as he herds them to one of their houses and gets a fire going. Having set them up nicely, he will next seek out the Town Speaker. He knows the man is senile but perhaps that will work to their advantage.
Morkeleb:
Your charges are grateful for the help. You are able to get them into the human's home, throw some blankets over them, and start a small cooking fire that hopefully won't draw attention.
It takes a bit of searching to find the town speaker, but around noon, you wander into the Grumpy Moose, of the five center taverns. It's a relatively quiet time for them. You spot Speaker Shalescar, and elderly dwarf who's vacant-eyed stare could easily be mistaken for unflappableness, having a small meal at the bar. He is accompanied by a fat dwarf you would know to be Dockmaster Grynsk, who is speaking to him while downing a mug of cheap ale.
You can hear a piece of Grynsk's conversation, "...fusing to go out there now. We need that fish to keep the town running. Can't you make a little, I don't know, short-term decree to get the boys back out there? It'll prove we don't have any problems except a few drunken fishermen, and get the food supply back up."
Elsewhere in the tavern, a bundled up individual drinks in a corner, and two shirtless young men seem to have recently arrived, and are regretting their devotion to sacrificing warmth today by downing a few more ales than they planned to.
As he watches Tali retreat, Nox silently grumbles to himself. Afterall, it's hard to ignore an issue when you’ve directly asked about it even though it would be far nicer just to spend his time in town tavern hopping. Still, he shudders to himself thinking about how with the amount of ships in these waters, whatever this creature is must have claimed some of them. His body starts to involuntarily shiver as a painful reminder of his last encounter at sea and he begins to march towards the closest group of fishermen he can find by the docks