Leaving Boyd and Nikita to enquire at TheRuddy Tankard, you both head off towards the bridge, as this seemingly leads towards the heart of Saltmarsh. When you draw near the bridge you find that it is lined with homes and shops along its length. It is wide enough to get two carts across, comfortably, side by side. The closer you get to the north side of the bridge the busier it becomes.
A variety of provisions and garments can be found being sold here, as well as a number of jewellery and other 'luxury' item shops. You both learn that there is indeed a blacksmith just the other side of the bridge - The Dwarven Anvil, just behind the Council Hall and next to the offices of The Weekly Wail. Currently, the Weekly Market is also in full swing, as you would expect this is where visiting merchants often peddle their wares, it also has a long table for communal meals.
There are a few interesting characters that draw your attention;
An academic gentleman; heavy build, if somewhat undernourished. Wild greying hair. Wears spectacles with a cracked lens. Seems to look lost.
A guard; a solidly built man with short-cropped grey hair and a thick neck. Wears a perpetual look of dyspepsia. He looks nervous and keeps checking over his shoulder.
A noblewoman; speaking with the guard is a woman, she has a classic beauty, marred by gauntness. Her clothes are tattered but elegant. You get the sense that it is a once-wealthy lady that has perhaps fallen on hard times.
Otherwise, you do not see anyone that you believe to be Thomas Dolan.
What you hear (rumours)...
Many of the residents of Saltmarsh seem to be a little tight-lipped and wary of outsiders. You do, however, hear a couple of tidbits that spark your interest;
The guard and noblewoman speaking above are discussing the disappearance of the woman's child - who she refers to as Essie. She seems to believe someone is targetting her family.
People are worried about the Carnival; a number of rumours have started relating to magic malpractice and a sickness sweeping through the camp. Many of the locals are advising each other to steer clear.
The academic gentleman referenced above seems to be searching for a friend of his, an old colleague, named Asha Hawkes. He seems to believe that she went missing a number of years ago and has been attempting to locate her.
There is a rumour that there is an opening on the Saltmarsh Town Council, a number of names have been put forward including Thomas Dolan, Casper Brinck, and Eliander Fireborn.
Sometimes on a moonless night, it is rumoured, that you can see the ghosts roaming from the cemetery to the northwest of the town to the south; "They float right over the town walls".
Unfortunately, your wandering mage hand, though invisible, attracts the attention of a number of stray cats. It spends most of its time attempting to put off its pursuers and fails to find anything of note.
((Boyd - You can roll checks that you assume are required, but I would ask that it is within reason; rolling half a dozen checks every time you enter a room, unprompted can get a little too much. Also, rolling the checks does not necessarily mean they are apt for the occasion, it might be that regardless of the number rolled, you will get little information.
I will definitely prompt if the checks are a necessity.))
Quietly and with a friendly smile, Nikita helps Boyd with cleaning up the fragments of he sign. She looks around for any other clues as Boyd is doing - any more evidence of the carriage's transit and direction in case we can follow it.
She holds off answering Boyd's question on where she's from until any conversation with the proprietor of The Ruddy Tankard is done.
"Thank ye' Boyd," Handsome says as Boyd helps pick up the pieces of the sign. "Name's Brodie, Tony Brodie. Bu' mos' 'round 'ere call me 'andsome. On accounta me good looks and winnin' charm,"he extends a hand in greeting, you get the sense that he is generally quite an upbeat person, when his property is not being destroyed.
He leads you into his tavern, though it is small and 'cosy it is neat and well-kept nonetheless; much like Brodie himself, who wears a neat white uniform. In the corner, a number of the tavern's regulars play at cards.
"Can I get yer a drink on th' 'ouse?"Brodie asks. "You wit' Carnival? Seem like good folk, by an' large." He picks up a glass and starts cleaning; in the typical way that all barkeepers in any fantasy setting tend to do. "Procan only knows th' sort it takes ta go 'round destroyin' a man's sign. Y'ave the righta it. Though mos' folk 'round 'ere keep 'emselves to 'emselves. Nah, can't say I e'er seen a carriage like this; girt big it were an' black as th' night."
Brodie stops to think, "Y'see I thought like ye' a' first. Probably coupla drunks, 'ad a few too many oh-be-joyfuls." He mimics drinking a beer. "Bu' then I changed me mind, y'see. 'cause if they was pissed, tha' is to say off-their-faces, then they would not be able ta steer it 'roun' the corner. I reck'n they wos jus' tryin' ta make a quick exit. Wen' towards th' town gate, y'see."
He chuckles when you mention the guard, "Oh I seen 'em alright. Fat-lotta-good, they jus' say tha' ain't nothin' they can do. Sure, tha' O'Toole fella seem'd ta care enough." Brodie leans in and drops his voice, "reckon 'e knew who it were, y'see. Reckon it ain't someone y'wanna go 'round accusin', if yer get me meanin'."
"Pleasure to meet you, Handsome."He accepts the free drink and continues, "Yeah we're with the carnival. Just coming into town for some supplies." He listens to the rest of the description of what Handsome saw, and comments, "Aye, sounds like no one you'd want to get involved with. Nobles' sons playing 'annoy the peasants,'" he says derisively, and clearly including himself in the "peasant" class. "Or worse. The kinds of buggers they've got up in Monmurg, what stab anyone who looks at 'em sideways." He takes a sip in the silence he created, then adds, "Yeah, best stay outta their ways."
He continues chatting with Handsome about how nothing; how he hasn't been up this way in a while, how the weather's been, the good old days, etc.
Finally he shakes his head and says, "Can't stop thinkin' about how this O'Toole fella's gonna get himself hurt, if it is like those gangs up in Monmurg. He a guard, or just a regular bloke? I oughta let him know to drop it."
Nikita plays her part, tagging along with Boyd as if she's his favorite niece (even though that's technically impossible) and he's showing her around town. She gives him an affectionate glance and helps with any clean-up, including using Prestidigitation discreetly if appropriate.
While she maintains her blank, amiable smile, she can't help reddening slightly when Boyd mentions nobles annoying the peasants.
I never did that! I always liked everyone but the nobles! She soon realizes her internal mental defensiveness is silly and Boyd wasn't referring to her... or was he, obliquely? The man from Ensar via Monmurg did have a quick wit... She smiles.
When Boyd mentions O'Toole, Nikita perks up and listens closely. She also adds, musing: "And the carriage tore off towards the gate, you said Mr. Handsome, ah... Brodie? Are there guards posted there too? Maybe this O'Toole fellow? If the guards do nothing, I wonder who in the council might be behind that."
Nikita is never going to sound like a working class person, and nothing hides the fact that she's a high elf, but she tries to soften and mellow the harsh "noble" edges of her accent as best she can. Maybe she tries to come off like a moderately well-off merchant's educated daughter.
Also see Insight check if necessary above to see who, if anyone, Handsome/Brodie might be implying when says it's best not to accuse, or what he's saying about the guards.
Claude shifts uncomfortably under Meresaa's questioning. The imp 'creature' looks at Meresaa and starts making a series of guttural, harsh noises; you could swear it was trying to communicate with you, perhaps in a language you do not understand.
"Exac'ly,"agrees Claude, "couldn'ta put it better meself." He stares between Meresaa and Ermasnietsz blank faces, "Y'can, y'can unnerstan' 'er, right? Maud?" You watch as Claude has a brief conversation with the appendage on his neck, only understanding one side of it - lots of Ahhh's, I see's, and I can' tell 'em tha'.
After a few moments Claude turns to you, looking like a young lad that had just received a dressing down from his mother, he continues, "Maud 'as said tha' I mus' be 'onest wit' th' both of yus." The creature known as Maud's hand comes up and gently pats Claude comfortingly. "She can speak through me, bu' she can' speak direct to yus. She says..." he pauses for a second and hisses, "I can' tell 'em tha',"before begrudgingly continuing. "Maud says tha' if y'were to look into me 'ead - me bein' Claude - then y'd be able ta see tha' I weren't capable enough to cas' th' spell with any fin-fin-ess-es."
Scratching ashamedly at his arms he continues, "she says y'have the righ' of it Meresaa". "I am NO' a fool!"Claude yells suddenly, seemingly at himself, "no' b'fore y'apologise, y' 'ear!..."
More moments pass.
"Well. Tha's quite, tha's quite al'right. Loo' I'm jus' as pu' ou' by this as y'are. Y'! Yea'! Yesss! I, I'll continue,"Claude says having found a resolution with the voice inside his head. "Maud says she r'ckons tha' it were a spell what misfired," he says, attempting to convey the thoughts of the creature attached to him. "Says there's somethin' wrong wit' this place, she ain't sure wot though... maybe some lo'al anom-aly or whate'er..." Claude looks visibly confused, "somethin' 'bout planes an' bridges 'tween 'em."
Claude shakes his head as if clearing his mind. When Meresaa asks about the Illuminated Man he perks up, "Nah, I can ans'er tha' one. 'e's the Illuminated Man, tha's 'is name. No one knows 'is actual name. Dun' even think 'e knows!"
"Y'ave th' righ' o' it, friend,"Brodie agrees with Boyd, "from th' looks o' it, look'd like an expen-sive carriage. Dun' norm-ally 'ave all these stabbin's 'round Saltmarsh. But yeah," he says disdainfully, "Monmurg on t'other 'and..."
He makes sure to keep Boyd's and Nikita's, should she accept, drinks topped up on the house. Pleased to get his story out and to meet those that are receptive to it. There seem to be three main drinks on offer; Spit'n'Polish Ale (contains two secret ingredients), Paint Stripper Whiskey (or 'Pain' Strip'r Whiskeh'), and for the more hardcore adventurer The Scourers (a series of shots containing questionable spirits).
Brodie is happy to just chat for a while. You find out that there are a few in town who have misgivings towards the Carnival, with the implication that dark magics are afoot. It is clear that Brodie believes this to be a lot of bunkum, however, as he has only had positive experiences with the Carnival folk.
When Boyd turns the topic to O'Toole, he nods sombrely, "'fraid y'might 'ave th' righ' o' it... seems ta me 'e's fighin' a battle 'e can't win. Serge'nt Eamon O'Toole, 'e's o' the town guard, jus' 'bout th' only dec'nt one. 'fraid 'e won' drop owt. Stubborn tha' one."
"Y'doin' a marv'llous job N'kita,"Brodie exclaims, "y'ever fin' yerself a' a loose end, y'can always 'elp out 'ere, fer a bit'a coin." He smiles kindly.
His face quickly changes and he almost drops the glass he is cleaning when you mention the council. "'ush now, 'ush now." Brodie whispers quietly, "bes' y'don' go throwin' 'round accusa'ions like tha'. Now's I thin' 'bout it, th' carriage musta gone past 'em what was stood on guard a' tha' gate las' night. Or maybe t'look t'other way." He looks deadly serious as he delivers his warning.
You get the sense that Brodie is referring to people that hold a lot of sway within Saltmarsh. Members of the council would certainly fit that description, however, so would many of the high-ranking nobles of the town.
Regarding the guards, you get the sense that Brodie definitely believes that they are able to be corrupted and might be bribed.
Boyd accepts the Spit'n'Polish ale. He's just about finished with it as their conversation is wrapping up. "Now, now Nikky," he says, playing into the "uncle-niece" disguise she seems to be going for. "If those gangs are moving into the villages, they've probably locked down the guards with bribes n' threats." He turns to Handsome and explains, "She reads those books, you know. Thinks everything's some big adventure or conspiracy." He shakes his head sadly, "I told her mum they'd rot her brain. Now she don't even know how the world works no more!" He glances at Nikita with a smile, indicating he's just kidding.
He continues 'chastising'' her, but he's really hoping to get Handsome to open up a bit more on the subject. "We don't know nothing about the city council here. I'm sure they're working real hard to wrap up these attacks and... and drive-by vandalisms."
On her tidying help with Prestidigitation, Nikita hefts her tankard of Spit'n'Polish Ale towards Brodie and takes as large a sip as she can while trying to retain a shred of ladylike dignity. "Happy to help any time, Handsome. Whenever you're pouring these for my friends, I'll not take your coin."
She grins at Boyd as if to say I think I just hooked us up with free drinks in the future too!
But then she is appropriately (and genuinely) chastened at speaking too openly about the council. I should know better than that. Why did I ever think I'd be a good spy? She humbly promises to be more discreet in the future and allows that "Uncle Boyd" usually knows best, nodding along and finishing off her ale as the grizzled man continues on.
At a break in the conversation, after making sure to keep her face expressionless and amiable, she tries to ask, as casually as possible: "Oh. Someone mentioned there was a trade delegation in town? I was curious. How long have they been here?"
Separately, at some point, as Nikita's intense disgust at the lamprey/cactus aberration that was left after Nick had Eldritch Blasted the extraplanar/parasitic eggs begins to recede, the logical part of her brain takes over and she starts trying to remember if she's ever heard of anything like that. I think she did a Nature check while they were still in egg form and got a 24, and already discerned that they were not of this world. And that they had necrotic magic (from Detect Magic). But this is more whether anything about the lamprey/cactus form that appeared after we killed it rung any bells for her. If applicable, see further Nature check above. (OOC: If at disadvantage due it not being currently in front of her, let me know and I'll roll again).
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Faila accompanies Nick down the road towards the bridge. She is intrigued by this gallant structure, like a whole little town holding itself proudly up out of the river and marshes. She wanders to the edges of it at various points, where there is access, looking down the tall, thick piers at the boats in the water below. She wonders why there are so many buildings up here. Perhaps the ground is too marshy, below, to put buildings on. Faila likes the idea of the bridge---strong, secure, high above the ruddy, unpredictable waters and treacherous ground.
She also enjoys watching the people, and looking at the shops and stalls selling various goods. There is such a variety of food, fabrics, and curiosities that she doesn't know where to start. "What did Nikita want us to buy with her gold?" she asks Nick. There had been some discussion of this, and she knows Nick had a whole list in his head, but she can't remember the details.
“I wonder who used to be named Asha Hawkes,” Nick mumbles to himself, but loud enough for Faila to hear.
“Isn’t that curious… oh I’m sorry, what did you just ask? Yes yes… Nikita wanted some armor, light armor I believe. Function over fashion to be sure, but she doesn’t look like the type of woman who would wear anything drab.”
noting The Dwarven Anvil being next to the council hall. Nick continues in his mission of provisions, concerning himself with the tasks at hand, one at a time. The council hall will be here later, though if they aren’t prepared they may not be. The rumblings in the streets seem to imply those affiliated with the carnival May soon not be welcome here…
stepping inside, “hello! Who is the owner or operator of this here shop! I have coin and desires. Show me your best light and medium armor, and your selection of shields!”
“faila, what would you like to be wearing if we are to face deadly circumstances? Now is the time to make preparations, for perhaps tomorrow will be too late.”
Nick thinks about the whole mess. And the main points his mind keeps trying to grind into cohesive understanding are that 1) an empty council seat means someone just died and/or was thrown off, and 2) there are two names that ring in his ears and simply will not leave: Thomas Dolan and Asha Hawkes.
His mind returning to the negotiation at hand, he smiles at his negotiating counterpart awaiting their response.
Ermasnietsz assumes from the erratic flow of words that Claude is certainly under the influence of the appendage 'Maud'. The creature has the upper hand and it has some sort of ability to communicate with the host body. It's like a parasite.
"Claude, look at me!"- she calls out suddenly to take advantage of the situation when both Claude and Maude are distracted by the words of Meresaa. It takes her only a moment or two to pull out a small vial filled with powdered silver and iron, then sprinkle the material on the novice caster. She casts Protection from Evil and Good and cautiously waits for the response of the man.
"I can't do anything more than that, for now. Do you feel better?"
"Hmpf, no' sure where y'gettin' tha' from Boyd,"Brodie starts, still speaking under his breath, "Town Council barely liftsa fing'r now-a-days. Y'jus' gots ta be careful 'o y'say tha' 'round, tha's all."
Brodie seems quite taken with Nikita's mannerisms, especially when she takes a large swig of her ale. "Ne'er mind m'love, ne'ver mind," he says in his loud, jolly voice, "Tha's righ', trade dele-gation fr'm Iuz. Bit o' a odd one tha' Xen'ros, been buyin' loadsa fish fer some reason - righ' odd. 'eard she 'as all sortsa relics there, creeps me ou' ta be 'onest. Bes' ta keep clear o' 'er."
"Oh we've 'ad a few dele-gations fr'm Iuz b'fore. Xen'ros only been 'ere a coupla months... d'ya know she 'as 'orns? Few folk wha' are trus'worthy, wha' 'as 'orns,"Brodie says, matter-of-factly.
((I should have specified - that was always a description of their form, it's just they were obscured in their sacs at first, then in their icy cases. You would have gained a more accurate look once you 'cored' the ice. They did not change shape. Your nature check would not have given any more information than what was provided.))
Continuing along the bridge you reach the other side. To your right, a large, sprawling market stretches along the coast. It is thriving and the loud voices of merchants peddling their wares can be heard, each one attempting to outdo the next. All sorts of foreign goods seem to be on sale here from fruits to expensive perfumes; the sights and smells are exotic and almost overwhelming.
You skirt around the outside of the market past a large brick building with a large wooden sign hanging from the entrance ((see spoiler)); it appears that this is the Council Hall. Walking past it you turn around a bend in the road and see the sign for the blacksmith.
Entering inside TheDwarven Anvil you spot an elderly, dark-skinned woman standing with her hands on her hips. She watches as a younger man hammers away at an anvil that is clearly dwarven in nature. Looking around you see a variety of hooks, nails, harpoons, knives, and fishing weights, as well as a couple of hoes, rakes, and other farming implements. As Nick enters the shop and blurts out his question the woman takes one look at him and starts chuckling. The young man stops what he is doing and also lets out a burst of raucous laughter.
"I suppose you're all adventuring folk?" she says with a smile. "What you think this is some bustling city? This ain't Greyhawk lad."
"Now, now Ma,"the young man says, barely containing his mirth, "likely they're new in town." He draws himself up straight, "I'm Jasker and this is my mother, Mafera. I think you can probably tell by now that our speciality is trade tools, rather than tools of war. If you will."
"That being said, I can craft the things you require,"Jasker says, pridefully, "though it likely it'll take some time and well, Ma?"
Mafera coughs politely. "Last I checked our backlog of orders," she points towards multiple piles of paperwork, each some few foot high, "was around 8 miles long, I reckon... Give or take a few yards."
"So you're going to have to make us an offer that we cannot refuse or..." Jasker grins, "you'll have to check out the Weekly Market for the goods you desire." With that, he starts hammering at the anvil once more, muttering to himself between laughs, "light and medium armour... selection of shields... priceless."
The moment Ermasnietsz casts Protection from Evil and Good on Claude, both he and Maud let out a wail of anguish. The shrill voice of Maud coupled with the deep low groan of Claude creates an odd cacophony of pain.
Grasping at his head, Claude attempts to stand before falling forwards face first. No attempt is made to stop his fall as he lands on the floor of the wagon with a dull thud. Blood pouring from his eyes, ears, and nose. Maud has not faired much better as her arm limply dangles by the side of Claude's neck. There is silence.
Trade delegration from Iuz... "Xen'ros" leads them... has horns? A tiefling perhaps? Buying fish? Been here a few months?
Nikita breathes. Probably nothing to do with me. I am beneath their notice. She finishes the rueful thought as she finishes her ale and thumps the tankard down, casting Prestidigitation to clean it immaculately along with the entire bar surface nearby.
She favors Brodie with as charming a smile as she can muster. "Thank you Mr. Handsome! I think there are good folk in the town and good folk in the carnival and good folks everywhere really, like this O'Toole in the guard perhaps. When times are tough, we good folk have to stick together."
If "Uncle Boyd" hasn't yet finished his tankard, she gives him a playful, gentle elbow to the ribs. "Speaking of which, when did your drinking get so slow? We shouldn't impose further on Mr. Handsome here. You said you'd show me more of this town. I saw a bridge and a market I think? Perhaps we can even talk to this O'Toole fellow." Nikita hops off the barstool.
“I tell you in ernest chance has not treated me fairly in this life, except perhaps if we tally in pain and suffering, nor do I presume your life is no easier than mine, but a good smithy is a good smithy, and if you treat me right I’ll do the same in kind.”
he wonders if these people know what horrors May soon befall this backwater city. “I have caught wind there be events in need of cleaning in this town, and wish to pre prepared, not knowing what to fully expect yet.”
”what strange events have you an ya ma heard these last 4 years around the region? What problems would you want solved if I theoretically had a list and YOU were to say which is the priority?” Nick stops putting on the air of knowing and returns his voice to that of determined innocence, believing things can be solved through action and cooperation.
“…And how many of the people on this 8 mile long list of yours need their order expressly for the tools of protecting saltmarsh and its citizens? I care not for money but for action and results, just as any true smithy, though needing to feed their family and keep the books, prides themselves in their craft and support of the community.” Nick finishes his shpeel with the eyes of someone who just wants to help, knowing the only thing more stubborn than himself is a good craftsman, and he is at the mercy of their morals and sense of priority.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"What in the Nine Hells was that?!?!" Meresaa screams as she jumps to her feet, banging her head on the ceiling and rocking the wagon. This lightning-fast reaction seemingly in stark contrast to her usual slow and smooth movements. In a harsh whisper she continues. "What did you do? Why would you cast a spell on an unsuspecting friend?? I hope you're able to stop or reverse these effects quickly or we might have just made an enemy of the entire Carnival! What were you thinking??"
She quickly kneels next to Claude and places one hand on the side of his neck, opposite the side Maud is on, hoping to feel some semblance of a pulse. Regardless of her findings, she uses her other hand to withdraw a folded cloth from a pocket hidden under her robe. Unfolding it, she scoops out a sticky balm from its surface and applies it to Claude's forehead.
"I'm no healer. This is all I'm able to do for him. We can only hope it's enough unless you have some other tricks up your sleeve."
Meresaa cast cure wounds in an to attempt to heal Claude for 12hp.
Sharkfin Bridge (Faila & Nick)
Leaving Boyd and Nikita to enquire at The Ruddy Tankard, you both head off towards the bridge, as this seemingly leads towards the heart of Saltmarsh. When you draw near the bridge you find that it is lined with homes and shops along its length. It is wide enough to get two carts across, comfortably, side by side. The closer you get to the north side of the bridge the busier it becomes.
A variety of provisions and garments can be found being sold here, as well as a number of jewellery and other 'luxury' item shops. You both learn that there is indeed a blacksmith just the other side of the bridge - The Dwarven Anvil, just behind the Council Hall and next to the offices of The Weekly Wail. Currently, the Weekly Market is also in full swing, as you would expect this is where visiting merchants often peddle their wares, it also has a long table for communal meals.
Nick's Perception checks:
What you see (identifiable faces)...
There are a few interesting characters that draw your attention;
Otherwise, you do not see anyone that you believe to be Thomas Dolan.
What you hear (rumours)...
Many of the residents of Saltmarsh seem to be a little tight-lipped and wary of outsiders. You do, however, hear a couple of tidbits that spark your interest;
Sometimes on a moonless night, it is rumoured, that you can see the ghosts roaming from the cemetery to the northwest of the town to the south; "They float right over the town walls".
Nick's Investigation check:
Unfortunately, your wandering mage hand, though invisible, attracts the attention of a number of stray cats. It spends most of its time attempting to put off its pursuers and fails to find anything of note.
((Boyd - You can roll checks that you assume are required, but I would ask that it is within reason; rolling half a dozen checks every time you enter a room, unprompted can get a little too much. Also, rolling the checks does not necessarily mean they are apt for the occasion, it might be that regardless of the number rolled, you will get little information.
I will definitely prompt if the checks are a necessity.))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Investigation check if needed (see below): 9
Quietly and with a friendly smile, Nikita helps Boyd with cleaning up the fragments of he sign. She looks around for any other clues as Boyd is doing - any more evidence of the carriage's transit and direction in case we can follow it.
She holds off answering Boyd's question on where she's from until any conversation with the proprietor of The Ruddy Tankard is done.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The Ruddy Tankard (Boyd & Nikita)
"Thank ye' Boyd," Handsome says as Boyd helps pick up the pieces of the sign. "Name's Brodie, Tony Brodie. Bu' mos' 'round 'ere call me 'andsome. On accounta me good looks and winnin' charm," he extends a hand in greeting, you get the sense that he is generally quite an upbeat person, when his property is not being destroyed.
He leads you into his tavern, though it is small and 'cosy it is neat and well-kept nonetheless; much like Brodie himself, who wears a neat white uniform. In the corner, a number of the tavern's regulars play at cards.
"Can I get yer a drink on th' 'ouse?" Brodie asks. "You wit' Carnival? Seem like good folk, by an' large." He picks up a glass and starts cleaning; in the typical way that all barkeepers in any fantasy setting tend to do. "Procan only knows th' sort it takes ta go 'round destroyin' a man's sign. Y'ave the righta it. Though mos' folk 'round 'ere keep 'emselves to 'emselves. Nah, can't say I e'er seen a carriage like this; girt big it were an' black as th' night."
Brodie stops to think, "Y'see I thought like ye' a' first. Probably coupla drunks, 'ad a few too many oh-be-joyfuls." He mimics drinking a beer. "Bu' then I changed me mind, y'see. 'cause if they was pissed, tha' is to say off-their-faces, then they would not be able ta steer it 'roun' the corner. I reck'n they wos jus' tryin' ta make a quick exit. Wen' towards th' town gate, y'see."
He chuckles when you mention the guard, "Oh I seen 'em alright. Fat-lotta-good, they jus' say tha' ain't nothin' they can do. Sure, tha' O'Toole fella seem'd ta care enough." Brodie leans in and drops his voice, "reckon 'e knew who it were, y'see. Reckon it ain't someone y'wanna go 'round accusin', if yer get me meanin'."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"Pleasure to meet you, Handsome." He accepts the free drink and continues, "Yeah we're with the carnival. Just coming into town for some supplies." He listens to the rest of the description of what Handsome saw, and comments, "Aye, sounds like no one you'd want to get involved with. Nobles' sons playing 'annoy the peasants,'" he says derisively, and clearly including himself in the "peasant" class. "Or worse. The kinds of buggers they've got up in Monmurg, what stab anyone who looks at 'em sideways." He takes a sip in the silence he created, then adds, "Yeah, best stay outta their ways."
He continues chatting with Handsome about how nothing; how he hasn't been up this way in a while, how the weather's been, the good old days, etc.
Finally he shakes his head and says, "Can't stop thinkin' about how this O'Toole fella's gonna get himself hurt, if it is like those gangs up in Monmurg. He a guard, or just a regular bloke? I oughta let him know to drop it."
Insight check if necessary (see below): 12
Nikita plays her part, tagging along with Boyd as if she's his favorite niece (even though that's technically impossible) and he's showing her around town. She gives him an affectionate glance and helps with any clean-up, including using Prestidigitation discreetly if appropriate.
While she maintains her blank, amiable smile, she can't help reddening slightly when Boyd mentions nobles annoying the peasants.
I never did that! I always liked everyone but the nobles! She soon realizes her internal mental defensiveness is silly and Boyd wasn't referring to her... or was he, obliquely? The man from Ensar via Monmurg did have a quick wit... She smiles.
When Boyd mentions O'Toole, Nikita perks up and listens closely. She also adds, musing: "And the carriage tore off towards the gate, you said Mr. Handsome, ah... Brodie? Are there guards posted there too? Maybe this O'Toole fellow? If the guards do nothing, I wonder who in the council might be behind that."
Nikita is never going to sound like a working class person, and nothing hides the fact that she's a high elf, but she tries to soften and mellow the harsh "noble" edges of her accent as best she can. Maybe she tries to come off like a moderately well-off merchant's educated daughter.
Also see Insight check if necessary above to see who, if anyone, Handsome/Brodie might be implying when says it's best not to accuse, or what he's saying about the guards.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Claude's Wagon (Ermasnietsz & Meresaa)
Claude shifts uncomfortably under Meresaa's questioning. The imp 'creature' looks at Meresaa and starts making a series of guttural, harsh noises; you could swear it was trying to communicate with you, perhaps in a language you do not understand.
"Exac'ly," agrees Claude, "couldn'ta put it better meself." He stares between Meresaa and Ermasnietsz blank faces, "Y'can, y'can unnerstan' 'er, right? Maud?" You watch as Claude has a brief conversation with the appendage on his neck, only understanding one side of it - lots of Ahhh's, I see's, and I can' tell 'em tha'.
After a few moments Claude turns to you, looking like a young lad that had just received a dressing down from his mother, he continues, "Maud 'as said tha' I mus' be 'onest wit' th' both of yus." The creature known as Maud's hand comes up and gently pats Claude comfortingly. "She can speak through me, bu' she can' speak direct to yus. She says..." he pauses for a second and hisses, "I can' tell 'em tha'," before begrudgingly continuing. "Maud says tha' if y'were to look into me 'ead - me bein' Claude - then y'd be able ta see tha' I weren't capable enough to cas' th' spell with any fin-fin-ess-es."
Scratching ashamedly at his arms he continues, "she says y'have the righ' of it Meresaa". "I am NO' a fool!" Claude yells suddenly, seemingly at himself, "no' b'fore y'apologise, y' 'ear!..."
More moments pass.
"Well. Tha's quite, tha's quite al'right. Loo' I'm jus' as pu' ou' by this as y'are. Y'! Yea'! Yesss! I, I'll continue," Claude says having found a resolution with the voice inside his head. "Maud says she r'ckons tha' it were a spell what misfired," he says, attempting to convey the thoughts of the creature attached to him. "Says there's somethin' wrong wit' this place, she ain't sure wot though... maybe some lo'al anom-aly or whate'er..." Claude looks visibly confused, "somethin' 'bout planes an' bridges 'tween 'em."
Claude shakes his head as if clearing his mind. When Meresaa asks about the Illuminated Man he perks up, "Nah, I can ans'er tha' one. 'e's the Illuminated Man, tha's 'is name. No one knows 'is actual name. Dun' even think 'e knows!"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
The Ruddy Tankard (Boyd & Nikita)
"Y'ave th' righ' o' it, friend," Brodie agrees with Boyd, "from th' looks o' it, look'd like an expen-sive carriage. Dun' norm-ally 'ave all these stabbin's 'round Saltmarsh. But yeah," he says disdainfully, "Monmurg on t'other 'and..."
He makes sure to keep Boyd's and Nikita's, should she accept, drinks topped up on the house. Pleased to get his story out and to meet those that are receptive to it. There seem to be three main drinks on offer; Spit'n'Polish Ale (contains two secret ingredients), Paint Stripper Whiskey (or 'Pain' Strip'r Whiskeh'), and for the more hardcore adventurer The Scourers (a series of shots containing questionable spirits).
Brodie is happy to just chat for a while. You find out that there are a few in town who have misgivings towards the Carnival, with the implication that dark magics are afoot. It is clear that Brodie believes this to be a lot of bunkum, however, as he has only had positive experiences with the Carnival folk.
When Boyd turns the topic to O'Toole, he nods sombrely, "'fraid y'might 'ave th' righ' o' it... seems ta me 'e's fighin' a battle 'e can't win. Serge'nt Eamon O'Toole, 'e's o' the town guard, jus' 'bout th' only dec'nt one. 'fraid 'e won' drop owt. Stubborn tha' one."
"Y'doin' a marv'llous job N'kita," Brodie exclaims, "y'ever fin' yerself a' a loose end, y'can always 'elp out 'ere, fer a bit'a coin." He smiles kindly.
His face quickly changes and he almost drops the glass he is cleaning when you mention the council. "'ush now, 'ush now." Brodie whispers quietly, "bes' y'don' go throwin' 'round accusa'ions like tha'. Now's I thin' 'bout it, th' carriage musta gone past 'em what was stood on guard a' tha' gate las' night. Or maybe t'look t'other way." He looks deadly serious as he delivers his warning.
Nikita's Insight check:
You get the sense that Brodie is referring to people that hold a lot of sway within Saltmarsh. Members of the council would certainly fit that description, however, so would many of the high-ranking nobles of the town.
Regarding the guards, you get the sense that Brodie definitely believes that they are able to be corrupted and might be bribed.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Boyd accepts the Spit'n'Polish ale. He's just about finished with it as their conversation is wrapping up. "Now, now Nikky," he says, playing into the "uncle-niece" disguise she seems to be going for. "If those gangs are moving into the villages, they've probably locked down the guards with bribes n' threats." He turns to Handsome and explains, "She reads those books, you know. Thinks everything's some big adventure or conspiracy." He shakes his head sadly, "I told her mum they'd rot her brain. Now she don't even know how the world works no more!" He glances at Nikita with a smile, indicating he's just kidding.
He continues 'chastising'' her, but he's really hoping to get Handsome to open up a bit more on the subject. "We don't know nothing about the city council here. I'm sure they're working real hard to wrap up these attacks and... and drive-by vandalisms."
(See below at bottom) Nature check: 26
On her tidying help with Prestidigitation, Nikita hefts her tankard of Spit'n'Polish Ale towards Brodie and takes as large a sip as she can while trying to retain a shred of ladylike dignity. "Happy to help any time, Handsome. Whenever you're pouring these for my friends, I'll not take your coin."
She grins at Boyd as if to say I think I just hooked us up with free drinks in the future too!
But then she is appropriately (and genuinely) chastened at speaking too openly about the council. I should know better than that. Why did I ever think I'd be a good spy? She humbly promises to be more discreet in the future and allows that "Uncle Boyd" usually knows best, nodding along and finishing off her ale as the grizzled man continues on.
At a break in the conversation, after making sure to keep her face expressionless and amiable, she tries to ask, as casually as possible: "Oh. Someone mentioned there was a trade delegation in town? I was curious. How long have they been here?"
Separately, at some point, as Nikita's intense disgust at the lamprey/cactus aberration that was left after Nick had Eldritch Blasted the extraplanar/parasitic eggs begins to recede, the logical part of her brain takes over and she starts trying to remember if she's ever heard of anything like that. I think she did a Nature check while they were still in egg form and got a 24, and already discerned that they were not of this world. And that they had necrotic magic (from Detect Magic). But this is more whether anything about the lamprey/cactus form that appeared after we killed it rung any bells for her. If applicable, see further Nature check above. (OOC: If at disadvantage due it not being currently in front of her, let me know and I'll roll again).
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Faila accompanies Nick down the road towards the bridge. She is intrigued by this gallant structure, like a whole little town holding itself proudly up out of the river and marshes. She wanders to the edges of it at various points, where there is access, looking down the tall, thick piers at the boats in the water below. She wonders why there are so many buildings up here. Perhaps the ground is too marshy, below, to put buildings on. Faila likes the idea of the bridge---strong, secure, high above the ruddy, unpredictable waters and treacherous ground.
She also enjoys watching the people, and looking at the shops and stalls selling various goods. There is such a variety of food, fabrics, and curiosities that she doesn't know where to start. "What did Nikita want us to buy with her gold?" she asks Nick. There had been some discussion of this, and she knows Nick had a whole list in his head, but she can't remember the details.
Nature: 3
“I wonder who used to be named Asha Hawkes,” Nick mumbles to himself, but loud enough for Faila to hear.
“Isn’t that curious… oh I’m sorry, what did you just ask? Yes yes… Nikita wanted some armor, light armor I believe. Function over fashion to be sure, but she doesn’t look like the type of woman who would wear anything drab.”
noting The Dwarven Anvil being next to the council hall. Nick continues in his mission of provisions, concerning himself with the tasks at hand, one at a time. The council hall will be here later, though if they aren’t prepared they may not be. The rumblings in the streets seem to imply those affiliated with the carnival May soon not be welcome here…
stepping inside, “hello! Who is the owner or operator of this here shop! I have coin and desires. Show me your best light and medium armor, and your selection of shields!”
“faila, what would you like to be wearing if we are to face deadly circumstances? Now is the time to make preparations, for perhaps tomorrow will be too late.”
Nick thinks about the whole mess. And the main points his mind keeps trying to grind into cohesive understanding are that 1) an empty council seat means someone just died and/or was thrown off, and 2) there are two names that ring in his ears and simply will not leave: Thomas Dolan and Asha Hawkes.
His mind returning to the negotiation at hand, he smiles at his negotiating counterpart awaiting their response.
Ermasnietsz assumes from the erratic flow of words that Claude is certainly under the influence of the appendage 'Maud'. The creature has the upper hand and it has some sort of ability to communicate with the host body. It's like a parasite.
"Claude, look at me!"- she calls out suddenly to take advantage of the situation when both Claude and Maude are distracted by the words of Meresaa. It takes her only a moment or two to pull out a small vial filled with powdered silver and iron, then sprinkle the material on the novice caster. She casts Protection from Evil and Good and cautiously waits for the response of the man.
"I can't do anything more than that, for now. Do you feel better?"
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
The Ruddy Tankard (Boyd & Nikita)
"Hmpf, no' sure where y'gettin' tha' from Boyd," Brodie starts, still speaking under his breath, "Town Council barely liftsa fing'r now-a-days. Y'jus' gots ta be careful 'o y'say tha' 'round, tha's all."
Brodie seems quite taken with Nikita's mannerisms, especially when she takes a large swig of her ale. "Ne'er mind m'love, ne'ver mind," he says in his loud, jolly voice, "Tha's righ', trade dele-gation fr'm Iuz. Bit o' a odd one tha' Xen'ros, been buyin' loadsa fish fer some reason - righ' odd. 'eard she 'as all sortsa relics there, creeps me ou' ta be 'onest. Bes' ta keep clear o' 'er."
"Oh we've 'ad a few dele-gations fr'm Iuz b'fore. Xen'ros only been 'ere a coupla months... d'ya know she 'as 'orns? Few folk wha' are trus'worthy, wha' 'as 'orns," Brodie says, matter-of-factly.
((I should have specified - that was always a description of their form, it's just they were obscured in their sacs at first, then in their icy cases. You would have gained a more accurate look once you 'cored' the ice. They did not change shape. Your nature check would not have given any more information than what was provided.))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Faila's Nature check:
You are not quite sure... I mean it could be marshy below the bridge, the town must be called Saltmarsh for a reason.
((As you closely inspect the bridge, please can you make a History check.))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
The Dwarven Anvil (Faila & Nick)
Continuing along the bridge you reach the other side. To your right, a large, sprawling market stretches along the coast. It is thriving and the loud voices of merchants peddling their wares can be heard, each one attempting to outdo the next. All sorts of foreign goods seem to be on sale here from fruits to expensive perfumes; the sights and smells are exotic and almost overwhelming.
You skirt around the outside of the market past a large brick building with a large wooden sign hanging from the entrance ((see spoiler)); it appears that this is the Council Hall. Walking past it you turn around a bend in the road and see the sign for the blacksmith.
Entering inside The Dwarven Anvil you spot an elderly, dark-skinned woman standing with her hands on her hips. She watches as a younger man hammers away at an anvil that is clearly dwarven in nature. Looking around you see a variety of hooks, nails, harpoons, knives, and fishing weights, as well as a couple of hoes, rakes, and other farming implements. As Nick enters the shop and blurts out his question the woman takes one look at him and starts chuckling. The young man stops what he is doing and also lets out a burst of raucous laughter.
"I suppose you're all adventuring folk?" she says with a smile. "What you think this is some bustling city? This ain't Greyhawk lad."
"Now, now Ma," the young man says, barely containing his mirth, "likely they're new in town." He draws himself up straight, "I'm Jasker and this is my mother, Mafera. I think you can probably tell by now that our speciality is trade tools, rather than tools of war. If you will."
"That being said, I can craft the things you require," Jasker says, pridefully, "though it likely it'll take some time and well, Ma?"
Mafera coughs politely. "Last I checked our backlog of orders," she points towards multiple piles of paperwork, each some few foot high, "was around 8 miles long, I reckon... Give or take a few yards."
"So you're going to have to make us an offer that we cannot refuse or..." Jasker grins, "you'll have to check out the Weekly Market for the goods you desire." With that, he starts hammering at the anvil once more, muttering to himself between laughs, "light and medium armour... selection of shields... priceless."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Claude's Wagon (Ermasnietsz & Meresaa)
The moment Ermasnietsz casts Protection from Evil and Good on Claude, both he and Maud let out a wail of anguish. The shrill voice of Maud coupled with the deep low groan of Claude creates an odd cacophony of pain.
Grasping at his head, Claude attempts to stand before falling forwards face first. No attempt is made to stop his fall as he lands on the floor of the wagon with a dull thud. Blood pouring from his eyes, ears, and nose. Maud has not faired much better as her arm limply dangles by the side of Claude's neck. There is silence.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Trade delegration from Iuz... "Xen'ros" leads them... has horns? A tiefling perhaps? Buying fish? Been here a few months?
Nikita breathes. Probably nothing to do with me. I am beneath their notice. She finishes the rueful thought as she finishes her ale and thumps the tankard down, casting Prestidigitation to clean it immaculately along with the entire bar surface nearby.
She favors Brodie with as charming a smile as she can muster. "Thank you Mr. Handsome! I think there are good folk in the town and good folk in the carnival and good folks everywhere really, like this O'Toole in the guard perhaps. When times are tough, we good folk have to stick together."
If "Uncle Boyd" hasn't yet finished his tankard, she gives him a playful, gentle elbow to the ribs. "Speaking of which, when did your drinking get so slow? We shouldn't impose further on Mr. Handsome here. You said you'd show me more of this town. I saw a bridge and a market I think? Perhaps we can even talk to this O'Toole fellow." Nikita hops off the barstool.
"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
“I tell you in ernest chance has not treated me fairly in this life, except perhaps if we tally in pain and suffering, nor do I presume your life is no easier than mine, but a good smithy is a good smithy, and if you treat me right I’ll do the same in kind.”
he wonders if these people know what horrors May soon befall this backwater city. “I have caught wind there be events in need of cleaning in this town, and wish to pre prepared, not knowing what to fully expect yet.”
”what strange events have you an ya ma heard these last 4 years around the region? What problems would you want solved if I theoretically had a list and YOU were to say which is the priority?” Nick stops putting on the air of knowing and returns his voice to that of determined innocence, believing things can be solved through action and cooperation.
“…And how many of the people on this 8 mile long list of yours need their order expressly for the tools of protecting saltmarsh and its citizens? I care not for money but for action and results, just as any true smithy, though needing to feed their family and keep the books, prides themselves in their craft and support of the community.” Nick finishes his shpeel with the eyes of someone who just wants to help, knowing the only thing more stubborn than himself is a good craftsman, and he is at the mercy of their morals and sense of priority.
History: 19
"What in the Nine Hells was that?!?!" Meresaa screams as she jumps to her feet, banging her head on the ceiling and rocking the wagon. This lightning-fast reaction seemingly in stark contrast to her usual slow and smooth movements. In a harsh whisper she continues. "What did you do? Why would you cast a spell on an unsuspecting friend?? I hope you're able to stop or reverse these effects quickly or we might have just made an enemy of the entire Carnival! What were you thinking??"
She quickly kneels next to Claude and places one hand on the side of his neck, opposite the side Maud is on, hoping to feel some semblance of a pulse. Regardless of her findings, she uses her other hand to withdraw a folded cloth from a pocket hidden under her robe. Unfolding it, she scoops out a sticky balm from its surface and applies it to Claude's forehead.
"I'm no healer. This is all I'm able to do for him. We can only hope it's enough unless you have some other tricks up your sleeve."
Meresaa cast cure wounds in an to attempt to heal Claude for 12hp.
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