Sheela nearly falls over in startlement as Dornin is replaced by a near perfect replica of the Captain, "By the gods if I didn't know any better". She manages to regain control of herself. Cranking the wheel hard the ship begins to turn in a great arc, out to sea before aligning with a direct course into the shimmering wall of stone. "You better be sure of this Molly, this ship will smash to pieces if you are wrong".
"You all sure of this?" she asks, the cliff looming closer and closer, only Molly's illusion and her determination that a cave lies before them to guide the vessel. "We could be sailing into a den of vipers, hells if there's even a den to be had" She glances at Molly again to ensure the course is correct. It is clear that Sheela is not able to see the cavern, the cove within, the same way Molly can. Her uncertainty clear as if etched in stone.
"You all still have a few minutes to change your minds before we shatter against the unforgiving stone and sink to become feed for sharks?" Sheela is ready to crank the wheel hard, needing only the slightest provocation. In fact she hopes you will change your mind, but wont adjust course unless told. The Schooner is headed straight towards the sheer cliff wall.
Kallith grins at Dornins disguise. "Good job, I'm experting you to summon storms at any moment."
The druid uses her innate talents to follow suit, disguising herself to look like she's wearing but a sailors garb, omitting the leather armor and equipment.
She raises a pole in a mock fighting pose directed at the cliffside. "Into the magical portal we go!", effortlessly trusting in the fact that the illusion would give way at the last moment.
Chandler looks at Molly with the eyes of a mother whose daughter is far away. She then relays the idea of Molly/Nettles to the rest. She the takes the pouch of assorted coins (224gp) and hands it to Molly, “To use if needed be safe Molly.”
OOC: Molly accepted the pouch of assorted coins, removed 50gpfor herself, and pocketed it. Later, when Sheela is free from her duties at the ship's wheel, Molly gives Sheela 50gp for herself and Skit 24gp. The remaining 100gp within the pouch is likewise given to Sheela for safekeeping to manage and oversee the ship's general maintenance, care, and upkeep, the Siren's Folly, and perhaps even hire some additional crew when and if the opportunity presents itself!
Dornin stands confidently besides Sheela at the wheel, continuing to speak as the Captain, in the case that perhaps somebody may be watching from a distance “Ha! Place yer faith with Molly, Sheela! Even if that means sleepin’ in the belly of the tub”
Dornin patiently waits to see what happens next, for even though he trusts Molly, he wouldn’t be able to swim in this kind of rough water if they crashed.
Octo looks at Dornin, now appearing as the captain who almost took his life, but doesn't find it as unsettling as he probably should. He then looks at Molly, then Sheela, offers a quick shrug and says nothing. Finally he looks towards the cliff face they are racing towards, where his gaze lingers. Sparks in hand, he waits for whatever is to come.
The Schooner cuts through the waves, the swells slamming against the sheer cliffs of the lonely Island. At Sheela's behest, Skit and Octo lower the sails, first one then another until a bare foot of cloth remains to push the boat forward. The Stone looms above you, its hieght grwoing with every foot traveled until it blocks out the high sun beating down upon the deck. The wall undulates, a patch appearin as liquid stone, flowing in a hypnotizing rythym. Only Molly has been able to pierce the image, assuredly guiding Sheela with nods, looks and cryptic gestures.
The prow of the boat, the form of a beautiful woman slides into the stone. It parts like a thick viscous jelly. Not solid but niether liquid. As parts of the ship pass through it squishes back together with a wet squelch. The front of the ship dissapears, hidden by the stone as it draws closer. Trying not to react, afraid the wall is just going to smash into you and force you off the boat, or smashed into the bulk head. A warm tingling passes through, or rather around you and the ship is past.
A narrow surf winds into the cave, the place dimly lit with a hundred torches. Burning atop the half dozen sailing ships or posted outside the doors of rickety buildings. Clinging to the walls, on supports or leaning against one another, it becomes difficult to tell where one building ends and another begins. Citizens? Pirates? rogues perhaps is the best term for the people traveling through town, or standing upon a board walk many feet above.
A town like any other, or unlike any other, the cave is too large for the island it appears to inhabit. The small bay tightens before wining further and deeper into the cave. It is blocked by the other vessels, small craft and suspension bridges. The Rogues of the town don't seem to pay you any attention, just another ship. No dock workers, no line men to haul you to a dock. The other ships are just sitting where they stopped although most still have a semblance of crew aboard.
Sheela points out a Schooner, a sister ship to the one you are on right now. "That's the Valiant, the one boarded by the young lady and her captors. I don't see the Azure Tempest here. It doesn't look like a vessel could leave this cavern by any means but the way we came." She gazes around in wonder, before continuing. "Skit and I will stick with the boat, see about getting a proper crew, oh look at that" She points into the air, about 30-40 feet up is a tiny eyeball, size of your fist. It floats gently like fluff on a breeze. It slowly turns to gaze down upon the deck of the Sirens folly but continues to drift by. "Places like this have a code, not exactly laws, so much. If its anything like Rickerts landing, everything and anything is 'legal' so long as trade and business aint affected"
Kallith stares at the hidden city, now unveiled. What secrets did it hold? Where would one possibly find Isbiel in this place?
She nods at Sheelas words and turns to the others. "It seems that there is a semblance of order here. Perhaps we can spread out and try to find Isbiels whereabouts?"
The firbolgs stomach grumbles audibly and she looks at it like a complaining pet. "Maybe there is food to be found? Local specialities?"
Clearly her priorities are a bit conflicted, but she thinks that the search for Isbiel and the search for food would go hand in hand. The first thing she would do is check local market stalls (if there are any) and to see what is on offer. She does this while her disguise lasts, returning to the ship before it runs out.
Never in her life has Chandle experienced anything like entering this remote hidden island cove… apparently the time for action is now. Chandle still with a little time left telepathically communicates with Kallith <I’m gonna stick with you, hope you don’t mind, Captain.>
“I’m thinking a Minotaur walking around this place may be a liability to our cause. I will stay at the boat while those of you who can disguise yourselves and blend in easier, do some scouting. Does that make sense to you all?”
As the ship weighed anchor in the sea cave after speaking privately with Sheela and Skit, Molly gave them their share of the purse Chandle had given her, telling them that if all went well, she would send some sailors their way to join the crew. That done, Molly disembarked and quickly made her way towards the nearest sailor's tavern.
The tavern door swung open with a resounding thud, heralding the entrance of Mad Molly, whose presence sliced through the murmur like a scythe. Her demeanor was fierce, feral, and unapologetic—a brewing tempest about to be unleashed. With purposeful strides, the Rhinemaiden scanned the room, her eyes settling on an unsuspecting sailor.
In a flash, she was upon him, her hands clamping onto his head, gripping him tightly as she pulled him into a rough, bewildering kiss. The sailor, stunned, stumbled back as Molly roughly pushed him away, only to repeat her bold action with another nearby. Her low and haunting laughter fluttered across the room like the shadows of deep, dark tentacles under the sea.
Continuing her march to the bar, Molly's movements were fluid, a dance of contained ferocity. She withdrew a heavy leather purse from her belt, flinging it with a flourish to the bartender, who caught it, his expression a mix of intrigue and caution. The clink of fifty gold pieces resounded, a clarion call to the now silent tavern.
Ascending the bar with the grace of a predator, Molly stood tall. Her voice boomed, "I'm Molly Munchausen, die Rheintochter von der Siren's Folly! There are crew openings für die Mutigen, aber ich persönlich bevorzuge die Tollkühnen! I am the Rhinemaiden verflucht von der Fathomless Brineheart und gesegnet von Umberlee der ***** Queen selbst... and drinks are on me, die Prinzessin des Meeres till my purse runs dry! EIN PROST AUF UMBERLEE!!!"
Drumbeats began to fill the air she conjured withMinor Illusion; Molly's mad laughter melded with the rhythmic pulse of the beat as she began to sway and dance to the beat atop the bar! Her movements were wild and uninhibited as she sought to draw the patrons to share in her frenetic joy. The tavern erupted... the air thick with the beating of drums, the scent of cheap rum, and the clinking of mugs.
The Rhinemaiden's display was not just a call to revelry, but a siren's song she hoped would ensnare the hearts and spirits of all who witnessed it, compelling them toward the chaos and camaraderie she promised. At the very least, she would make an impression!
On the deck of the Sirens folly, Octo stood against the rail peering into the crowded cave. The place with its undeniably exotic life was still comforting. Beneath the weight of the world, encased in stone it was closer to home than he had been in some time. The bay took up most of the cave, even so it was crowded with a half dozen sailing ships, and another dozen rowboats and skiffs. Octo guesses the sharply curving ceiling is just under 50', with scavenged materials and the timber of captured vessels every available space has been built upon.
The few ships in the bay are quiet, only a few crew remaining aboard to keep watch and perform maintenance for their vessels. The rest of their crews having gone ashore for their own amusements. The crowds are a mixed lot, mostly human, or passable as human but others as well. It seems the life of a rapscallion is not limited to the simple folk. Orcs, goblins and goblin kind are numerous, a snake like creature slithers along an upper board walk. Nobody bats an eye at the Minotaur staring menacingly into town.
Sheela grabs his attention, "If ya keeping watch, me and the boy gettin a rest" as she descends below the deck.
Taking the rowboat across the short span to the closest dock, you tie it off and look about town to decide where to go. Molly heads off, giggling to herself. The town creates a horse shoe along the back ad sides of this large cove. The waters are deep, their salty brine creating a thickness to the air you can feel with every breath. The scent of fish, fresh, cooked, and rotten all mingle in a panoply of intensity. The docks are crowded, the buildings pushing out over the water, pressing for space where there is no land. The lower level is a riot of activity, races of every type spill out of barely lit doorways. More than one shop has a pair of scantily clad dancers, enticing the rapscallions into a house of delights.
Entertainment is the reason for most business here. Brothels, bordellos, gambling dens, taverns and other houses of ill repute. The right side of the cavern has buildings resembling a long warehouse. Even through the crowds, the din of voices overwhelming you figure it may be the best guess at a market. The interior of the warehouse is built outward from the natural stone of the cavern. Stacks and piles of goods are scattered about the large interior. Barrels of all sizes and tyoes, most branded with the owners mark, undoubtebly none of the people hawking the goods now.
A rail thin man, blisters exposed on his skin smiles at you. The number of blackened teeth could be counted on one hand, even if you lost a couple fingers. Jammed and wired next to them are carved wooden pegs to replace his missing teeth. "Wells nows, yous lassess looks losts, yous do" His tongue wrestling with too much space, every word a slur of moist sibilance.
At the call for free drinks a cheer erupts from the tavern. The Barkeep is taken back by the sudden eruption, a bag of gold heavy in his hands. A look of fear crosses his face first, he hurriedly tucks the bag into the table before him then opens the taps. Patrons rush with half empty mugs to take their fill. Molly is pushed aside in the dash. Stomping and song carries through the small room. The boards creaking beneath the rhythmic stomping of exalted rogues. Within minutes the tavern is full to busting, not even standing room available. The call for free flowing drink has attracted the crowds beyond its feeble walls.
Molly is forgotten in the crush of people, by most, but not all the patrons. A man pulls her aside, a simple grey cloak rests casually on his shoulders. A frequently used hood pulled back to expose a deeply lined face. The years have etched their passage into his weathered skin. "Im interested in getting off this rock, what happened to the crew. I need to know before signing see."
OOC: How is Molly pushed aside when she made her little announcement standing on top of the bar not from the floor??? I take it the crowd rushed over top of the bar and poured their own drinks then?
Kallith returns the smile of the thin man with the fake teeth. "I'm not lost, but it's the first time I've been here."
If the man is one of the merchants, she will inspect his wares for a bit and then trundle on. If not, she will eye the man for ulterior motives [insight: 23] as she continues the conversation. "My captain was tight-lipped about what to expect here. Care to help me out? Who makes the rules and who makes sure they are followed?"
'I can't ask after Isbiel, maybe there are Ibn Altair all around', she thinks all the while. 'Best to see what's what first.'
Dornin, disguised still as the Captain, wonders slowly throughout the dock area keeping within earshot of Octo on board. Taking a look at the other ships that rest, he looks to see if there’s anything to note of anything interesting on the other parked vessels. (Investigation:12)
The cheer of free drinks continues to resound within the small tavern. With no barmaids or servers, the patrons rush in masse to the back of the room. Their bodies pressing in a crushing wave of flesh against the feeble stand of wood, and mugs held in place by the empty casks beneath it. The Barkeep tries to keep order, quickly abandoning such useless notions. The thin veneer of civilization that coats this town like a thin and watery oil is wiped clean in an instant. The bar is swiped from its location, someone falls under the weight of sweaty bodies pushing forward from behind them. The patrons care little, stomping across the struggling man.
Bottles of rum and spirits, mini kegs and any other drink not nailed down is quickly emptied into mugs or hoisted over head to be enjoyed straight from the container. The quickly dwindling stores are mostly consumed before reaching the furthest rapscallion. Impatience, anger begin to simmer. A holler from the center of the mob rises over the din. An empty bottle smashed against another's head. Instead of screams or shouts of horror it affords even greater entertainment. Hollers of excitement ripple through the crowd. The room has the feel of both a street festival, and a riot, crammed into a space too small for either. Molly carries Chaos like a miasma, a plague that infects all those around her.
A loud pop from below, it goes unheralded by the throng dancing, cheering and jumping in over exuberant celebration. But not by the grey cloaked man before you, his eyes open in alarm at the sound. "There's too many, she's going in the drink fer sure, get out if you can". With that premonition he scrambles towards the front entrance. Using the as yet unbroken chairs and tables, the heads and shoulders, and the rafters to cling to he dashes away. The floor emits another pop and begins to sag.
"Yous meanings the Clearing house, gots goods to sells yous do, needs speaking to Isaack, Masters of trades he is" he smiles in a helpful way, pointing to man in a blood colored velvet blazer. The nearly skeletal man before you, his intent is not altruistic, perhaps he wants coin to guide you, but to where will the destination lead? Perhaps he sees you as a mark, is this a con or a setup for mugging? "Ors youse meaning the town? Nots right knowing, nose body does, 'cept the 3 Masters" Like a person sharing a great secret he leans in a little closer, the stench of his breath like a cloud of feces. "Whos ever it is, they be watching" He points to a floating eyeball drifting through the space. "Theys see everything. Yous got buisness with them?" He eyes you queerly, perhaps looking for something, a piece of information to sell to others? "Wants an audience yous need go through the Masters"
6 ships, including your own, are moored within the gentle waves of the cove. Much like the skeleton crew aboard the Sirens folly, at this moment only a Minotaur watching the town, 3 of them have only a couple sailors aboard. The Ophelia, the Riptide and the Rogers Galley are all quiet. The Ignis catches your attention as a Large black Serpent slithers onto the deck. Its scales rubbing against the well worn wood it barks a command to a reptilian man, resembling a lizard on two legs its scales a greenish blue in the torch light. The reptile turns and starts banging on a gong, a signal for something to happen but what is not immediately evident.
The Valiant is what you are really observing but making it to be less than evident. The ship is moored next to an open dock, one of the few in the cove. A swaying suspension bridge runs from its rail to a board walk 30' above the main dock level. A man in a dark cloak, a mottled gray and black you recognize from the ranch strides across to the ship. Octo and Dornin exchange a glance then return their attention to the Assassin greeting the Captain of the Valiant.
"The three masters, of course." Kallith says, as if their existence was self-evident, thinking 'they might know more, but where are they?'.
The scrawny man started seeming a bit less trustworthy than she had hoped. The druid, hoping to get out of this conversation quickly, tries to feign ignorance. "Uh, business, noo, that is, yes, but nothing illegal! Errrr... I mean nothing that the three masters would disapprove of. I really should be going, I'm sure the captain needs me!" [Deception: 3] Kallith overlooks that the man might have wanted money, the concept of coins holding an intrinsic value still being somewhat lost to her.
She awkwardly distances herself from the man, hurrying off into the crowd and back towards the Folly. Surely her disguise would wear out soon and she didn't want to be seen suddenly sprouting combat gear. Not that the gear would be a problem here, but the illusion might be.
Back on the Folly, she joins Octo and Dornin. Following their gaze, she sees the snake. Her jaw hangs open.
Kallith lets the others know: "There are people known as the three masters in charge here. I think they're responsible for the floating eyeballs. Maybe they're spellcasters?"
The druid then recognizes the assassin aboard the Valiant. "I'll see if I can listen in!"
Unless someone speaks out against it, Kallith transforms into a hairy rat and scuttles off in the direction of the Valiant. She tries to get as close to the men as possible without being seen to listen in on what they're saying. [Stealth: 7] Unfortunately the rat is a bit cumbersome in its movements, not being very inconspicuous. If someone makes a move to intercept or attack her, Kallith will retreat quickly.
Dornin sees Kallith taking a risk to enter the ship as the rat, he also would see a potential opportunity here. Presuming that the captain of the Valiant would recognize his disguise. He begins to walk confidently across the suspension bridge, before walking on deck, he yells out “Permission to come aboard, captain?” He gives a wink. “I almost didn’t make it with those stowaways on board, quite the lot they were! Luckily a few of em bargained their souls for service to the Folly, HA! Damned fools, should’ve chose death instead!” (Deception:18 and with DM allowance, giving Kallith the Help Action(advantage) on her stealth check because he’s distracting)
The rat scurries up the mast and across the beam. Jumping from the rigging of one vessel to another. She is not the only rat on the loose aboard the sailing vessels she passes. As she leaps from the Riptide a dagger thumps into the wood behind her, a sailor grumbling "damn cats are useless".
Settling into place aboard the Valiant she sits not 20' from the Assassin and the Captain. One man dressed in a black and grey cloak, the other looks like he should be in a royal court. Dashing in his middle years, wearing a brocaded smoking jacket and black rimmed hat. The Captain has an easy manner compared to the stern southerner. The Assassin has deep mahogany skin, typical of those from Calimshan. In most circles however he would be considered still a boy. "Our task here will be finished shortly captain, if you could wait. No more than a pair of days, three at most" He hands a small velvet pouch to the man. "It will just be the three of us to head back to the mainland"
"That's fine sir, the men enjoy the furlough. Will there be need to cast away quickly?" The Captain asks
"I think not, the Master of Coin has been most helpful" Replies the assassin. His head turns curiously to the side as he stares up at the rat in the rigging. A curious sight the way it stares at the two of them.
“Permission to come aboard, captain?” He gives a wink. “I almost didn’t make it with those stowaways on board, quite the lot they were! Luckily a few of em bargained their souls for service to the Folly, HA! Damned fools, should’ve chose death instead!” Bellows the Captain of the Sirens folly. (Dornin in disguise)
Both men turn at the intrusion of Captain Dornin. "I had given you for dead Captain, glad to see you made it unscathed. However your antics back in port, forced you to abandon the escort, don't think you deserve any of the pay" States the Captain of the Valiant, his tone one of authority, not to be challenged.
The assassin interrupts, "You left some alive Captain, that is not what you were instructed. And you brought them here! Are you a fool. Never leave an enemy behind you." The young man looks around the bay, noticing the Folly for the first time and the Minotaur upon its decks. "Other than the Minotaur who is still alive?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Sheela nearly falls over in startlement as Dornin is replaced by a near perfect replica of the Captain, "By the gods if I didn't know any better". She manages to regain control of herself. Cranking the wheel hard the ship begins to turn in a great arc, out to sea before aligning with a direct course into the shimmering wall of stone. "You better be sure of this Molly, this ship will smash to pieces if you are wrong".
"You all sure of this?" she asks, the cliff looming closer and closer, only Molly's illusion and her determination that a cave lies before them to guide the vessel. "We could be sailing into a den of vipers, hells if there's even a den to be had" She glances at Molly again to ensure the course is correct. It is clear that Sheela is not able to see the cavern, the cove within, the same way Molly can. Her uncertainty clear as if etched in stone.
"You all still have a few minutes to change your minds before we shatter against the unforgiving stone and sink to become feed for sharks?" Sheela is ready to crank the wheel hard, needing only the slightest provocation. In fact she hopes you will change your mind, but wont adjust course unless told. The Schooner is headed straight towards the sheer cliff wall.
Kallith grins at Dornins disguise. "Good job, I'm experting you to summon storms at any moment."
The druid uses her innate talents to follow suit, disguising herself to look like she's wearing but a sailors garb, omitting the leather armor and equipment.
She raises a pole in a mock fighting pose directed at the cliffside. "Into the magical portal we go!", effortlessly trusting in the fact that the illusion would give way at the last moment.
OOC: Molly accepted the pouch of assorted coins, removed 50gp for herself, and pocketed it. Later, when Sheela is free from her duties at the ship's wheel, Molly gives Sheela 50gp for herself and Skit 24gp. The remaining 100gp within the pouch is likewise given to Sheela for safekeeping to manage and oversee the ship's general maintenance, care, and upkeep, the Siren's Folly, and perhaps even hire some additional crew when and if the opportunity presents itself!
Dornin stands confidently besides Sheela at the wheel, continuing to speak as the Captain, in the case that perhaps somebody may be watching from a distance “Ha! Place yer faith with Molly, Sheela! Even if that means sleepin’ in the belly of the tub”
Dornin patiently waits to see what happens next, for even though he trusts Molly, he wouldn’t be able to swim in this kind of rough water if they crashed.
Octo looks at Dornin, now appearing as the captain who almost took his life, but doesn't find it as unsettling as he probably should. He then looks at Molly, then Sheela, offers a quick shrug and says nothing. Finally he looks towards the cliff face they are racing towards, where his gaze lingers. Sparks in hand, he waits for whatever is to come.
The Schooner cuts through the waves, the swells slamming against the sheer cliffs of the lonely Island. At Sheela's behest, Skit and Octo lower the sails, first one then another until a bare foot of cloth remains to push the boat forward. The Stone looms above you, its hieght grwoing with every foot traveled until it blocks out the high sun beating down upon the deck. The wall undulates, a patch appearin as liquid stone, flowing in a hypnotizing rythym. Only Molly has been able to pierce the image, assuredly guiding Sheela with nods, looks and cryptic gestures.
The prow of the boat, the form of a beautiful woman slides into the stone. It parts like a thick viscous jelly. Not solid but niether liquid. As parts of the ship pass through it squishes back together with a wet squelch. The front of the ship dissapears, hidden by the stone as it draws closer. Trying not to react, afraid the wall is just going to smash into you and force you off the boat, or smashed into the bulk head. A warm tingling passes through, or rather around you and the ship is past.
A narrow surf winds into the cave, the place dimly lit with a hundred torches. Burning atop the half dozen sailing ships or posted outside the doors of rickety buildings. Clinging to the walls, on supports or leaning against one another, it becomes difficult to tell where one building ends and another begins. Citizens? Pirates? rogues perhaps is the best term for the people traveling through town, or standing upon a board walk many feet above.
A town like any other, or unlike any other, the cave is too large for the island it appears to inhabit. The small bay tightens before wining further and deeper into the cave. It is blocked by the other vessels, small craft and suspension bridges. The Rogues of the town don't seem to pay you any attention, just another ship. No dock workers, no line men to haul you to a dock. The other ships are just sitting where they stopped although most still have a semblance of crew aboard.
Sheela points out a Schooner, a sister ship to the one you are on right now. "That's the Valiant, the one boarded by the young lady and her captors. I don't see the Azure Tempest here. It doesn't look like a vessel could leave this cavern by any means but the way we came." She gazes around in wonder, before continuing. "Skit and I will stick with the boat, see about getting a proper crew, oh look at that" She points into the air, about 30-40 feet up is a tiny eyeball, size of your fist. It floats gently like fluff on a breeze. It slowly turns to gaze down upon the deck of the Sirens folly but continues to drift by. "Places like this have a code, not exactly laws, so much. If its anything like Rickerts landing, everything and anything is 'legal' so long as trade and business aint affected"
Kallith stares at the hidden city, now unveiled. What secrets did it hold? Where would one possibly find Isbiel in this place?
She nods at Sheelas words and turns to the others. "It seems that there is a semblance of order here. Perhaps we can spread out and try to find Isbiels whereabouts?"
The firbolgs stomach grumbles audibly and she looks at it like a complaining pet. "Maybe there is food to be found? Local specialities?"
Clearly her priorities are a bit conflicted, but she thinks that the search for Isbiel and the search for food would go hand in hand. The first thing she would do is check local market stalls (if there are any) and to see what is on offer. She does this while her disguise lasts, returning to the ship before it runs out.
Never in her life has Chandle experienced anything like entering this remote hidden island cove… apparently the time for action is now. Chandle still with a little time left telepathically communicates with Kallith <I’m gonna stick with you, hope you don’t mind, Captain.>
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
Octo will spend some time observing the environment, focus on its inhabitants. He is trying to determine what races are present.
Perception: 5
“I’m thinking a Minotaur walking around this place may be a liability to our cause. I will stay at the boat while those of you who can disguise yourselves and blend in easier, do some scouting. Does that make sense to you all?”
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
As the ship weighed anchor in the sea cave after speaking privately with Sheela and Skit, Molly gave them their share of the purse Chandle had given her, telling them that if all went well, she would send some sailors their way to join the crew. That done, Molly disembarked and quickly made her way towards the nearest sailor's tavern.
The tavern door swung open with a resounding thud, heralding the entrance of Mad Molly, whose presence sliced through the murmur like a scythe. Her demeanor was fierce, feral, and unapologetic—a brewing tempest about to be unleashed. With purposeful strides, the Rhinemaiden scanned the room, her eyes settling on an unsuspecting sailor.
In a flash, she was upon him, her hands clamping onto his head, gripping him tightly as she pulled him into a rough, bewildering kiss. The sailor, stunned, stumbled back as Molly roughly pushed him away, only to repeat her bold action with another nearby. Her low and haunting laughter fluttered across the room like the shadows of deep, dark tentacles under the sea.
Continuing her march to the bar, Molly's movements were fluid, a dance of contained ferocity. She withdrew a heavy leather purse from her belt, flinging it with a flourish to the bartender, who caught it, his expression a mix of intrigue and caution. The clink of fifty gold pieces resounded, a clarion call to the now silent tavern.
Ascending the bar with the grace of a predator, Molly stood tall. Her voice boomed, "I'm Molly Munchausen, die Rheintochter von der Siren's Folly! There are crew openings für die Mutigen, aber ich persönlich bevorzuge die Tollkühnen! I am the Rhinemaiden verflucht von der Fathomless Brineheart und gesegnet von Umberlee der ***** Queen selbst... and drinks are on me, die Prinzessin des Meeres till my purse runs dry! EIN PROST AUF UMBERLEE!!!"
Drumbeats began to fill the air she conjured with Minor Illusion; Molly's mad laughter melded with the rhythmic pulse of the beat as she began to sway and dance to the beat atop the bar! Her movements were wild and uninhibited as she sought to draw the patrons to share in her frenetic joy. The tavern erupted... the air thick with the beating of drums, the scent of cheap rum, and the clinking of mugs.
The Rhinemaiden's display was not just a call to revelry, but a siren's song she hoped would ensnare the hearts and spirits of all who witnessed it, compelling them toward the chaos and camaraderie she promised. At the very least, she would make an impression!
On the deck of the Sirens folly, Octo stood against the rail peering into the crowded cave. The place with its undeniably exotic life was still comforting. Beneath the weight of the world, encased in stone it was closer to home than he had been in some time. The bay took up most of the cave, even so it was crowded with a half dozen sailing ships, and another dozen rowboats and skiffs. Octo guesses the sharply curving ceiling is just under 50', with scavenged materials and the timber of captured vessels every available space has been built upon.
The few ships in the bay are quiet, only a few crew remaining aboard to keep watch and perform maintenance for their vessels. The rest of their crews having gone ashore for their own amusements. The crowds are a mixed lot, mostly human, or passable as human but others as well. It seems the life of a rapscallion is not limited to the simple folk. Orcs, goblins and goblin kind are numerous, a snake like creature slithers along an upper board walk. Nobody bats an eye at the Minotaur staring menacingly into town.
Sheela grabs his attention, "If ya keeping watch, me and the boy gettin a rest" as she descends below the deck.
Taking the rowboat across the short span to the closest dock, you tie it off and look about town to decide where to go. Molly heads off, giggling to herself. The town creates a horse shoe along the back ad sides of this large cove. The waters are deep, their salty brine creating a thickness to the air you can feel with every breath. The scent of fish, fresh, cooked, and rotten all mingle in a panoply of intensity. The docks are crowded, the buildings pushing out over the water, pressing for space where there is no land. The lower level is a riot of activity, races of every type spill out of barely lit doorways. More than one shop has a pair of scantily clad dancers, enticing the rapscallions into a house of delights.
Entertainment is the reason for most business here. Brothels, bordellos, gambling dens, taverns and other houses of ill repute. The right side of the cavern has buildings resembling a long warehouse. Even through the crowds, the din of voices overwhelming you figure it may be the best guess at a market. The interior of the warehouse is built outward from the natural stone of the cavern. Stacks and piles of goods are scattered about the large interior. Barrels of all sizes and tyoes, most branded with the owners mark, undoubtebly none of the people hawking the goods now.
A rail thin man, blisters exposed on his skin smiles at you. The number of blackened teeth could be counted on one hand, even if you lost a couple fingers. Jammed and wired next to them are carved wooden pegs to replace his missing teeth. "Wells nows, yous lassess looks losts, yous do" His tongue wrestling with too much space, every word a slur of moist sibilance.
At the call for free drinks a cheer erupts from the tavern. The Barkeep is taken back by the sudden eruption, a bag of gold heavy in his hands. A look of fear crosses his face first, he hurriedly tucks the bag into the table before him then opens the taps. Patrons rush with half empty mugs to take their fill. Molly is pushed aside in the dash. Stomping and song carries through the small room. The boards creaking beneath the rhythmic stomping of exalted rogues. Within minutes the tavern is full to busting, not even standing room available. The call for free flowing drink has attracted the crowds beyond its feeble walls.
Molly is forgotten in the crush of people, by most, but not all the patrons. A man pulls her aside, a simple grey cloak rests casually on his shoulders. A frequently used hood pulled back to expose a deeply lined face. The years have etched their passage into his weathered skin. "Im interested in getting off this rock, what happened to the crew. I need to know before signing see."
OOC: How is Molly pushed aside when she made her little announcement standing on top of the bar not from the floor??? I take it the crowd rushed over top of the bar and poured their own drinks then?
Kallith returns the smile of the thin man with the fake teeth. "I'm not lost, but it's the first time I've been here."
If the man is one of the merchants, she will inspect his wares for a bit and then trundle on. If not, she will eye the man for ulterior motives [insight: 23] as she continues the conversation. "My captain was tight-lipped about what to expect here. Care to help me out? Who makes the rules and who makes sure they are followed?"
'I can't ask after Isbiel, maybe there are Ibn Altair all around', she thinks all the while. 'Best to see what's what first.'
Persuasion roll, if needed: 17
Dornin, disguised still as the Captain, wonders slowly throughout the dock area keeping within earshot of Octo on board. Taking a look at the other ships that rest, he looks to see if there’s anything to note of anything interesting on the other parked vessels. (Investigation:12)
The cheer of free drinks continues to resound within the small tavern. With no barmaids or servers, the patrons rush in masse to the back of the room. Their bodies pressing in a crushing wave of flesh against the feeble stand of wood, and mugs held in place by the empty casks beneath it. The Barkeep tries to keep order, quickly abandoning such useless notions. The thin veneer of civilization that coats this town like a thin and watery oil is wiped clean in an instant. The bar is swiped from its location, someone falls under the weight of sweaty bodies pushing forward from behind them. The patrons care little, stomping across the struggling man.
Bottles of rum and spirits, mini kegs and any other drink not nailed down is quickly emptied into mugs or hoisted over head to be enjoyed straight from the container. The quickly dwindling stores are mostly consumed before reaching the furthest rapscallion. Impatience, anger begin to simmer. A holler from the center of the mob rises over the din. An empty bottle smashed against another's head. Instead of screams or shouts of horror it affords even greater entertainment. Hollers of excitement ripple through the crowd. The room has the feel of both a street festival, and a riot, crammed into a space too small for either. Molly carries Chaos like a miasma, a plague that infects all those around her.
A loud pop from below, it goes unheralded by the throng dancing, cheering and jumping in over exuberant celebration. But not by the grey cloaked man before you, his eyes open in alarm at the sound. "There's too many, she's going in the drink fer sure, get out if you can". With that premonition he scrambles towards the front entrance. Using the as yet unbroken chairs and tables, the heads and shoulders, and the rafters to cling to he dashes away. The floor emits another pop and begins to sag.
"Yous meanings the Clearing house, gots goods to sells yous do, needs speaking to Isaack, Masters of trades he is" he smiles in a helpful way, pointing to man in a blood colored velvet blazer. The nearly skeletal man before you, his intent is not altruistic, perhaps he wants coin to guide you, but to where will the destination lead? Perhaps he sees you as a mark, is this a con or a setup for mugging? "Ors youse meaning the town? Nots right knowing, nose body does, 'cept the 3 Masters" Like a person sharing a great secret he leans in a little closer, the stench of his breath like a cloud of feces. "Whos ever it is, they be watching" He points to a floating eyeball drifting through the space. "Theys see everything. Yous got buisness with them?" He eyes you queerly, perhaps looking for something, a piece of information to sell to others? "Wants an audience yous need go through the Masters"
6 ships, including your own, are moored within the gentle waves of the cove. Much like the skeleton crew aboard the Sirens folly, at this moment only a Minotaur watching the town, 3 of them have only a couple sailors aboard. The Ophelia, the Riptide and the Rogers Galley are all quiet. The Ignis catches your attention as a Large black Serpent slithers onto the deck. Its scales rubbing against the well worn wood it barks a command to a reptilian man, resembling a lizard on two legs its scales a greenish blue in the torch light. The reptile turns and starts banging on a gong, a signal for something to happen but what is not immediately evident.
The Valiant is what you are really observing but making it to be less than evident. The ship is moored next to an open dock, one of the few in the cove. A swaying suspension bridge runs from its rail to a board walk 30' above the main dock level. A man in a dark cloak, a mottled gray and black you recognize from the ranch strides across to the ship. Octo and Dornin exchange a glance then return their attention to the Assassin greeting the Captain of the Valiant.
"The three masters, of course." Kallith says, as if their existence was self-evident, thinking 'they might know more, but where are they?'.
The scrawny man started seeming a bit less trustworthy than she had hoped. The druid, hoping to get out of this conversation quickly, tries to feign ignorance. "Uh, business, noo, that is, yes, but nothing illegal! Errrr... I mean nothing that the three masters would disapprove of. I really should be going, I'm sure the captain needs me!" [Deception: 3]
Kallith overlooks that the man might have wanted money, the concept of coins holding an intrinsic value still being somewhat lost to her.
She awkwardly distances herself from the man, hurrying off into the crowd and back towards the Folly. Surely her disguise would wear out soon and she didn't want to be seen suddenly sprouting combat gear. Not that the gear would be a problem here, but the illusion might be.
Back on the Folly, she joins Octo and Dornin. Following their gaze, she sees the snake. Her jaw hangs open.
Kallith lets the others know: "There are people known as the three masters in charge here. I think they're responsible for the floating eyeballs. Maybe they're spellcasters?"
The druid then recognizes the assassin aboard the Valiant. "I'll see if I can listen in!"
Unless someone speaks out against it, Kallith transforms into a hairy rat and scuttles off in the direction of the Valiant. She tries to get as close to the men as possible without being seen to listen in on what they're saying. [Stealth: 7] Unfortunately the rat is a bit cumbersome in its movements, not being very inconspicuous. If someone makes a move to intercept or attack her, Kallith will retreat quickly.
As Kallith turns into a rat, Chandle puts a hand over her mouth, that’s a big rat! <good luck, be careful>
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
Dornin sees Kallith taking a risk to enter the ship as the rat, he also would see a potential opportunity here. Presuming that the captain of the Valiant would recognize his disguise. He begins to walk confidently across the suspension bridge, before walking on deck, he yells out “Permission to come aboard, captain?” He gives a wink. “I almost didn’t make it with those stowaways on board, quite the lot they were! Luckily a few of em bargained their souls for service to the Folly, HA! Damned fools, should’ve chose death instead!”
(Deception:18 and with DM allowance, giving Kallith the Help Action(advantage) on her stealth check because he’s distracting)
The rat scurries up the mast and across the beam. Jumping from the rigging of one vessel to another. She is not the only rat on the loose aboard the sailing vessels she passes. As she leaps from the Riptide a dagger thumps into the wood behind her, a sailor grumbling "damn cats are useless".
Settling into place aboard the Valiant she sits not 20' from the Assassin and the Captain. One man dressed in a black and grey cloak, the other looks like he should be in a royal court. Dashing in his middle years, wearing a brocaded smoking jacket and black rimmed hat. The Captain has an easy manner compared to the stern southerner. The Assassin has deep mahogany skin, typical of those from Calimshan. In most circles however he would be considered still a boy. "Our task here will be finished shortly captain, if you could wait. No more than a pair of days, three at most" He hands a small velvet pouch to the man. "It will just be the three of us to head back to the mainland"
"That's fine sir, the men enjoy the furlough. Will there be need to cast away quickly?" The Captain asks
"I think not, the Master of Coin has been most helpful" Replies the assassin. His head turns curiously to the side as he stares up at the rat in the rigging. A curious sight the way it stares at the two of them.
“Permission to come aboard, captain?” He gives a wink. “I almost didn’t make it with those stowaways on board, quite the lot they were! Luckily a few of em bargained their souls for service to the Folly, HA! Damned fools, should’ve chose death instead!” Bellows the Captain of the Sirens folly. (Dornin in disguise)
Both men turn at the intrusion of Captain Dornin. "I had given you for dead Captain, glad to see you made it unscathed. However your antics back in port, forced you to abandon the escort, don't think you deserve any of the pay" States the Captain of the Valiant, his tone one of authority, not to be challenged.
The assassin interrupts, "You left some alive Captain, that is not what you were instructed. And you brought them here! Are you a fool. Never leave an enemy behind you." The young man looks around the bay, noticing the Folly for the first time and the Minotaur upon its decks. "Other than the Minotaur who is still alive?"