"Wow," Asbestos gasped as he looked up at the sight. He had been so busy rummaging that he hadn't quite caught the change of scenery. The light from the lanterns gave a fitting brightness to his face than he actually did have. They had gone further down the docks than he was ever used to before. The smells, the colors, the sounds. Breathing it all in, he didn't know to think. He started humming along to the muffled minstrel music that was playing in the background. With the atmosphere, he felt out of place just like he had with his host family (the one his changeling mom placed him in when he was only mere days old). He felt as if he should be like feeling something, a stir or urge of some kind that was just not there. The waves crashed alongside the boardwalk pillars just like his choppy thoughts and unease.
He hopped on one foot as slipped on some orcish breastplates and an animal pelted skirt on top of what he was already wearing. He shimmed out of his underneath clothes and stuffed them them into his bag. He stifled a laugh at Gotu's comments about burning the place down. "Hmm, yes I feel like I quite remember that too," The changeling looked sort of daydreamily at his informal caretaker. They've been on quite a many number of missions together that they all melted together in his head. "But I don't know if that is the place, yes. Though they mayhaps have rebuilt."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
"So, how do you all want to handle this, we got x hours till sunrise so quite some darkness left for us to play with."
"Ideally we'd blend in to scout. But I assume nobody has a sailor outfit, which leaves pairing up and pretending to be drunk couples wandered over from the red-light district, or hiding & sneaking. Unless someone has a better idea."
"I'm going to ask my helper to lure a few drunken sailors over to our location, as long as they aren't too far away or too large for my Unseen Servant to guide them away from the others."
"I'm going to ask my helper to lure a few drunken sailors over to our location, as long as they aren't too far away or too large for my Unseen Servant to guide them away from the others."
"Aye? Can ye do tha' while ye strip?" At the wizard's (most likely) negative reaction, Fist continues, "Ye don' look te part, lad. Yer too... prim. Tha' getup 'o yers'd do ya well in a pr'per brothel, but we're sellin' ya on te street. We gotta... whore ya up a tad. Ya got a shirt under tha' robe, righ'? Undo te robe 'n' gimme yer shirt. Shoes, too. Ya can keep yer pants, jus' don' re-tie te robe. Ach! An' yer belt. Gimme tha'. Ya need ta look... 'loose,' as if ye already had a John 'r Jane, earlier."
After a moment, he adds, "D'ya wan' me te help?" An obvious goad, but hopefully it gives him motivation.
"Fyn. 'Sbestos. Time to turn. A pimp (Fyn) an' a woman (Asbestos). Dealer's choice on who."
"I'm going to ask my helper to lure a few drunken sailors over to our location, as long as they aren't too far away or too large for my Unseen Servant to guide them away from the others."
"Aye? Can ye do tha' while ye strip?" At the wizard's (most likely) negative reaction, Fist continues, "Ye don' look te part, lad. Yer too... prim. Tha' getup 'o yers'd do ya well in a pr'per brothel, but we're sellin' ya on te street. We gotta... whore ya up a tad. Ya got a shirt under tha' robe, righ'? Undo te robe 'n' gimme yer shirt. Shoes, too. Ya can keep yer pants, jus' don' re-tie te robe. Ach! An' yer belt. Gimme tha'. Ya need ta look... 'loose,' as if ye already had a John 'r Jane, earlier."
After a moment, he adds, "D'ya wan' me te help?" An obvious goad, but hopefully it gives him motivation.
"Fyn. 'Sbestos. Time to turn. A pimp (Fyn) an' a woman (Asbestos). Dealer's choice on who."
"Yeah, no. I'm not going to change my outit." Gotu narrows his eyes at Fist.
The brute kneels, an awkward sight for a man his size. He speaks calmly, quietly, a rarity of its own.
"This is Guild business, boyo. If'n we let these fools step all o'r us, we lose infl'ence. We lose infl'ence, we lose jobs. We lose jobs, we lose gold. I like gold, lad. You like gold. I use it to buy things I want, as do you. I know what you want. You say it constan'ly. Scrolls fer progressin' arcane research. Those scrolls cost gold."
"No gold, no scrolls, no progress. Boy."
He stands again. "Now, I already told ya wha' I was willin' ta do, lad: use my gold to pay fer your scrolls, through a vendor I know meself. Wha' are you willin' ta do...?"
His eyes meet the wizard's as he says this, cold and unflinching. It's no bluff, he's willing to put his own gold forward. Is that price enough, however...?
The brute kneels, an awkward sight for a man his size. He speaks calmly, quietly, a rarity of its own.
"This is Guild business, boyo. If'n we let these fools step all o'r us, we lose infl'ence. We lose infl'ence, we lose jobs. We lose jobs, we lose gold. I like gold, lad. You like gold. I use it to buy things I want, as do you. I know what you want. You say it constan'ly. Scrolls fer progressin' arcane research. Those scrolls cost gold."
"No gold, no scrolls, no progress. Boy."
He stands again. "Now, I already told ya wha' I was willin' ta do, lad: use my gold to pay fer your scrolls, through a vendor I know meself. Wha' are you willin' ta do...?"
His eyes meet the wizard's as he says this, cold and unflinching. It's no bluff, he's willing to put his own gold forward. Is that price enough, however...?
"No, I mean, there is no need to change outfit period. They are drunk; their eyesight isn't that great." Gotu rubs his forehead. "You're overthinking this whole thing dealing with drunk sailors."
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
Insight Check: 17
(OOC: It would be funny if Gotu does notice that Fist wants to punch him. XD)
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
Insight Check: 17
(OOC: It would be funny if Gotu does notice that Fist wants to punch him. XD)
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
Insight Check: 17
(OOC: It would be funny if Gotu does notice that Fist wants to punch him. XD)
(OOC: Well. now.)
[OoC: Now let's see how smart the wizard really is. Does he confront the guy who can kill him with a single punch, or does he bite his tongue and play ball?]
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
Insight Check: 17
(OOC: It would be funny if Gotu does notice that Fist wants to punch him. XD)
(OOC: Well. now.)
[OoC: Now let's see how smart the wizard really is. Does he confront the guy who can kill him with a single punch, or does he bite his tongue and play ball?]
"Hm... You know what, I think I'll leave this to the other. No need to share me with the gold profit." Gotu narrows his eyes, smiling as he continues on with his ritual casting.
He turns back ta better Guild members, knowing full well there's another lil fanged way to get back at 'im.
"Alrigh', Fyn change o' plans. The wizard's a wee insecure about someone seein' him likin' te attention. We need more bai' on te hook. Le's go wit a drow this time."
Sensing the tension in the air Asbestos stayed quiet, fiddling with his skirt to fix it. He wanted to offer Gotu some support and to tell him he would look beautiful, but as the tension escalated, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. With the change of plans, the druid looked delighted at Fyn with a smile beaming. "Here! I gots some clothes for you!" He fiddled with his bag and produced high heeled boots and a sensual fiery cloak and silk undergarments. He placed them lightly into the other changeling's hand, giddily smiling.
"You too!"He tossed the wizard some gold-looking chain and bone necklaces, a black top hat with a feather, and other things a clown would think a pimp would wear (including a sparkly cane). "Yes! Yes! They will fit you very nicely!"
Then he took a moment to pause."Ah. yes, yes. Get into character."He let his body shift into the image of a beautiful orc woman. Short buzz cut hair on one side, and thick long flowing hair tossed on the other, to which he tied into a ponytail. He put in a round, black piercing on the ear on the left. Another feather earring on the one on the right. 'Her' muscles were toned and well defined (as if this clown had actually been working out). 'She' was tall and 'her' green skin contrasted with the red light of the lanterns. He breathed in deeply with a look of mediation, "Yes. I think I am ready."
His "Carolina" persona looks like this:
Art by Joanna Wolska "Ork Girl" ((I just found it. I didn't commission this. that's a lot of money))
In the shadowy embrace of the docks, where the sea's brine melds with the night air, Molly’s presence weaves through the streets like a ghost trailing whispers. Her steps are silent, her eyes gleaming with a feral delight as she listens to the hushed conversations of her companions, each syllable a thread in the dark tapestry they weave together.
"Are wir ready, meine friends?"Molly's voice is a chilling blend of anticipation and menace, her words half-drowned in the cacophony of dockside revelry. "Let uns dance mit the Nacht, and let the Schatten be our stage,"she purrs, her gaze darting between the obscured alleys and the dimly lit faces of sailors and miscreants.
As the group discusses strategies, Molly remains slightly apart, her mind seemingly adrift but sharply attuned to the pulse of the nocturnal district. Her figure, draped in the dark cloaks of her enigmatic persona, drifts closer to the water's edge, where the reflections of lantern light dance with sinister promise.
"Zu the Schiff we glide, silent wie the deep sea,"Molly murmurs to herself, her voice a haunting melody lost in the wind. "There, in the Bauch of the beast, we will uncover seine secrets, nicht wahr, dear Drusilla?" she whispers to the grotesque doll cradled in her arms, her tone both tender and terrifying.
Under the cloak of darkness, amidst the rolling fog, the Rhinemaiden ascended the ship moored in the darkest recesses of the harbor. Her elongated, pallid, claw-like fingers gripped the hull with supernatural ease, allowing her to scale the wooden surface like a specter rising from the grave. The ship groaned under her touch, as if whispering secrets of past tragedies and long-forgotten voyages.
"Ah, the Sirenenlieder of the wind winds through these ropes,"Molly cooed, her voice a macabre melody with an errie haunting lilt. "Diese ropes, sie sprechen of forgotten worlds, their fibers soaked in the tears of the drowned."Her silent inaudible laughter... twas a chilling sound that echoed into the void causing dogs on the docks to howl and rats aboard the ship to cry out in loud, high-pitched squeaks, squeals, and panic stricken hisses that intertwined with the creaks of the ship as if in deadly duet.
Perched atop the mainmast, Molly surveyed the deck below through a shark's eyes gleaming with an eerie, predatory light. The sailors below moved like marionettes—bags of blood and flesh... puppets animated by unseen, ghastly forces. "Look, Drusilla,"she whispered to the doll gripped in her claw-like embrace, "the deck ist a stage für the Totentanz. Each Seemann, a spectral Spieler, spun by the Fäden of fate und fear."
As she traversed the rigging with eerie silence, Molly was a darkling creature of the night—each movement calculated and silent, yet filled with a sinister grace. The ship became her hunting ground, its geometry a map to be memorized, its shadows allies in her silent vigil as her belly begged to be filled.
Later, admist the fog, under the veil of night, the little Rhinemaiden slinked back to her companions, her movements a silent waltz of shadows. In her hand, clutched with a pale, deathly grip, was apparently the ship's manifest, its parchment bloated and stained with dark, sinister blotches of blood. She appeared before Lace like a specter, a ghoul risen from the grave... the deep, the manifest extended outward as an offering. The moonlight, scarce and cautious, glanced off the wet, crimson marks, casting eerie reflections that danced like phantoms over Lace's face. Molly's eyes, fixed intently on Lace, silent yet screaming volumes of the night's grim tales. The air around them thickened with the scent of iron and brine, a palpable reminder of the document's macabre origins.
OOC:
Now the question is... was what Molly offered up the current ship's manifest, or something old and useless... or is it merely recipes of ship's cook speclialites as Molly can neither read nor write. That I'll leave to the DM to decide what it is and if it is of any value...
"So, how do you all want to handle this, we got x hours till sunrise so quite some darkness left for us to play with."
"Ideally we'd blend in to scout. But I assume nobody has a sailor outfit, which leaves pairing up and pretending to be drunk couples wandered over from the red-light district, or hiding & sneaking. Unless someone has a better idea."
"Hmm not really, we don't have any familiar either, so I guess acting like drunks is our best bet indeed." Smithy answers Lace looking at Steel and "Erm, where is molly guys?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war |Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
As his companions begin to investigate the docks in their own way Steelclaw just pulls up his hood “I’ll take a look around to see what I can find while she does her thing.”
'The Silk Scarf' is a well known brothel that caters to many of the wealthy and well off in Southport. Unlike the other brothel owned by the Night Ravens which has more exotic 'fare on tap' only humans, half-elves, and a few other tamer girls work here. The 'madam's' name is Yeniver but everyone just calls her 'Auntie Yeni.' There is only one guard/bouncer visible, a rusty colored bugbear called Pygrak or 'Pig,' but despite that whenever there is trouble beyond his capability to handle a quick shout always brings a few extra enforcers that seem to come right out of the woodwork.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
'The Silk Scarf' is a well known brothel that caters to many of the wealthy and well off in Southport. Unlike the other brothel owned by the Night Ravens which has more exotic 'fare on tap' only humans, half-elves, and a few other tamer girls work here. The 'madam's' name is Yeniver but everyone just calls her 'Auntie Yeni.' There is only one guard/bouncer visible, a rusty colored bugbear called Pygrak or 'Pig,' but despite that whenever there is trouble beyond his capability to handle a quick shout always brings a few extra enforcers that seem to come right out of the woodwork.
Gotu will try to see if there are any hidden entrances to use that no one would notice.
Investigation Check: 18
(OOC: Crossing finger now... Glasses don't be dirty!)
It's not so much a hidden entrance but there is a backdoor.
It's locked.
(If anyone is using Stealth... or a disguise... or doing anything at all out of the ordinary, please put it in your post so everyone is aware of it.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
— A basic prayer.
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"Wow," Asbestos gasped as he looked up at the sight. He had been so busy rummaging that he hadn't quite caught the change of scenery. The light from the lanterns gave a fitting brightness to his face than he actually did have. They had gone further down the docks than he was ever used to before. The smells, the colors, the sounds. Breathing it all in, he didn't know to think. He started humming along to the muffled minstrel music that was playing in the background. With the atmosphere, he felt out of place just like he had with his host family (the one his changeling mom placed him in when he was only mere days old). He felt as if he should be like feeling something, a stir or urge of some kind that was just not there. The waves crashed alongside the boardwalk pillars just like his choppy thoughts and unease.
He hopped on one foot as slipped on some orcish breastplates and an animal pelted skirt on top of what he was already wearing. He shimmed out of his underneath clothes and stuffed them them into his bag. He stifled a laugh at Gotu's comments about burning the place down. "Hmm, yes I feel like I quite remember that too," The changeling looked sort of daydreamily at his informal caretaker. They've been on quite a many number of missions together that they all melted together in his head. "But I don't know if that is the place, yes. Though they mayhaps have rebuilt."
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
"Ideally we'd blend in to scout. But I assume nobody has a sailor outfit, which leaves pairing up and pretending to be drunk couples wandered over from the red-light district, or hiding & sneaking. Unless someone has a better idea."
Gotu starts a ritual casting Unseen Servant.
"I'm going to ask my helper to lure a few drunken sailors over to our location, as long as they aren't too far away or too large for my Unseen Servant to guide them away from the others."
"Aye? Can ye do tha' while ye strip?" At the wizard's (most likely) negative reaction, Fist continues, "Ye don' look te part, lad. Yer too... prim. Tha' getup 'o yers'd do ya well in a pr'per brothel, but we're sellin' ya on te street. We gotta... whore ya up a tad. Ya got a shirt under tha' robe, righ'? Undo te robe 'n' gimme yer shirt. Shoes, too. Ya can keep yer pants, jus' don' re-tie te robe. Ach! An' yer belt. Gimme tha'. Ya need ta look... 'loose,' as if ye already had a John 'r Jane, earlier."
After a moment, he adds, "D'ya wan' me te help?" An obvious goad, but hopefully it gives him motivation.
"Fyn. 'Sbestos. Time to turn. A pimp (Fyn) an' a woman (Asbestos). Dealer's choice on who."
"Yeah, no. I'm not going to change my outit." Gotu narrows his eyes at Fist.
The brute kneels, an awkward sight for a man his size. He speaks calmly, quietly, a rarity of its own.
"This is Guild business, boyo. If'n we let these fools step all o'r us, we lose infl'ence. We lose infl'ence, we lose jobs. We lose jobs, we lose gold. I like gold, lad. You like gold. I use it to buy things I want, as do you. I know what you want. You say it constan'ly. Scrolls fer progressin' arcane research. Those scrolls cost gold."
"No gold, no scrolls, no progress. Boy."
He stands again. "Now, I already told ya wha' I was willin' ta do, lad: use my gold to pay fer your scrolls, through a vendor I know meself. Wha' are you willin' ta do...?"
His eyes meet the wizard's as he says this, cold and unflinching. It's no bluff, he's willing to put his own gold forward. Is that price enough, however...?
"No, I mean, there is no need to change outfit period. They are drunk; their eyesight isn't that great." Gotu rubs his forehead. "You're overthinking this whole thing dealing with drunk sailors."
The brute thinks on this.
"Alrigh', but at leas' undo yer robe 'n show yer chest. 'Maybe give 'em a dir'y look. Drunk don' mean stupid. If one of 'em makes us an' we can't deal with 'em fast enough, we'll be swarm'd by a crew's worth in no time. At leas' meet me in te mid'le, lad."
For the first time in a long time, Fist wants to punch another Guild member, which is decidedly bad. Usually, he just wants to bed them. With this one, he'd settle on the punch, and enjoy it. Fortunately, his expression of violent intent is the same as that of dirty thoughts, so the wizard shouldn't notice a difference.
Insight Check: 17
(OOC: It would be funny if Gotu does notice that Fist wants to punch him. XD)
(OOC: Well. now.)
[OoC: Now let's see how smart the wizard really is. Does he confront the guy who can kill him with a single punch, or does he bite his tongue and play ball?]
"Hm... You know what, I think I'll leave this to the other. No need to share me with the gold profit." Gotu narrows his eyes, smiling as he continues on with his ritual casting.
He turns back ta better Guild members, knowing full well there's another lil fanged way to get back at 'im.
"Alrigh', Fyn change o' plans. The wizard's a wee insecure about someone seein' him likin' te attention. We need more bai' on te hook. Le's go wit a drow this time."
Sensing the tension in the air Asbestos stayed quiet, fiddling with his skirt to fix it. He wanted to offer Gotu some support and to tell him he would look beautiful, but as the tension escalated, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. With the change of plans, the druid looked delighted at Fyn with a smile beaming. "Here! I gots some clothes for you!" He fiddled with his bag and produced high heeled boots and a sensual fiery cloak and silk undergarments. He placed them lightly into the other changeling's hand, giddily smiling.
"You too!" He tossed the wizard some gold-looking chain and bone necklaces, a black top hat with a feather, and other things a clown would think a pimp would wear (including a sparkly cane). "Yes! Yes! They will fit you very nicely!"
Then he took a moment to pause. "Ah. yes, yes. Get into character." He let his body shift into the image of a beautiful orc woman. Short buzz cut hair on one side, and thick long flowing hair tossed on the other, to which he tied into a ponytail. He put in a round, black piercing on the ear on the left. Another feather earring on the one on the right. 'Her' muscles were toned and well defined (as if this clown had actually been working out). 'She' was tall and 'her' green skin contrasted with the red light of the lanterns. He breathed in deeply with a look of mediation, "Yes. I think I am ready."
His "Carolina" persona looks like this:
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
In the shadowy embrace of the docks, where the sea's brine melds with the night air, Molly’s presence weaves through the streets like a ghost trailing whispers. Her steps are silent, her eyes gleaming with a feral delight as she listens to the hushed conversations of her companions, each syllable a thread in the dark tapestry they weave together.
"Are wir ready, meine friends?" Molly's voice is a chilling blend of anticipation and menace, her words half-drowned in the cacophony of dockside revelry. "Let uns dance mit the Nacht, and let the Schatten be our stage," she purrs, her gaze darting between the obscured alleys and the dimly lit faces of sailors and miscreants.
As the group discusses strategies, Molly remains slightly apart, her mind seemingly adrift but sharply attuned to the pulse of the nocturnal district. Her figure, draped in the dark cloaks of her enigmatic persona, drifts closer to the water's edge, where the reflections of lantern light dance with sinister promise.
"Zu the Schiff we glide, silent wie the deep sea," Molly murmurs to herself, her voice a haunting melody lost in the wind. "There, in the Bauch of the beast, we will uncover seine secrets, nicht wahr, dear Drusilla?" she whispers to the grotesque doll cradled in her arms, her tone both tender and terrifying.
Under the cloak of darkness, amidst the rolling fog, the Rhinemaiden ascended the ship moored in the darkest recesses of the harbor. Her elongated, pallid, claw-like fingers gripped the hull with supernatural ease, allowing her to scale the wooden surface like a specter rising from the grave. The ship groaned under her touch, as if whispering secrets of past tragedies and long-forgotten voyages.
"Ah, the Sirenenlieder of the wind winds through these ropes," Molly cooed, her voice a macabre melody with an errie haunting lilt. "Diese ropes, sie sprechen of forgotten worlds, their fibers soaked in the tears of the drowned." Her silent inaudible laughter... twas a chilling sound that echoed into the void causing dogs on the docks to howl and rats aboard the ship to cry out in loud, high-pitched squeaks, squeals, and panic stricken hisses that intertwined with the creaks of the ship as if in deadly duet.
Perched atop the mainmast, Molly surveyed the deck below through a shark's eyes gleaming with an eerie, predatory light. The sailors below moved like marionettes—bags of blood and flesh... puppets animated by unseen, ghastly forces. "Look, Drusilla," she whispered to the doll gripped in her claw-like embrace, "the deck ist a stage für the Totentanz. Each Seemann, a spectral Spieler, spun by the Fäden of fate und fear."
As she traversed the rigging with eerie silence, Molly was a darkling creature of the night—each movement calculated and silent, yet filled with a sinister grace. The ship became her hunting ground, its geometry a map to be memorized, its shadows allies in her silent vigil as her belly begged to be filled.
Later, admist the fog, under the veil of night, the little Rhinemaiden slinked back to her companions, her movements a silent waltz of shadows. In her hand, clutched with a pale, deathly grip, was apparently the ship's manifest, its parchment bloated and stained with dark, sinister blotches of blood. She appeared before Lace like a specter, a ghoul risen from the grave... the deep, the manifest extended outward as an offering. The moonlight, scarce and cautious, glanced off the wet, crimson marks, casting eerie reflections that danced like phantoms over Lace's face. Molly's eyes, fixed intently on Lace, silent yet screaming volumes of the night's grim tales. The air around them thickened with the scent of iron and brine, a palpable reminder of the document's macabre origins.
OOC:
Now the question is... was what Molly offered up the current ship's manifest, or something old and useless... or is it merely recipes of ship's cook speclialites as Molly can neither read nor write. That I'll leave to the DM to decide what it is and if it is of any value...
"Hmm not really, we don't have any familiar either, so I guess acting like drunks is our best bet indeed." Smithy answers Lace looking at Steel and "Erm, where is molly guys?"
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war | Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
As his companions begin to investigate the docks in their own way Steelclaw just pulls up his hood “I’ll take a look around to see what I can find while she does her thing.”
OOC: Rolls in gamelog
Stealth: 27
Perception: 5
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'The Silk Scarf' is a well known brothel that caters to many of the wealthy and well off in Southport. Unlike the other brothel owned by the Night Ravens which has more exotic 'fare on tap' only humans, half-elves, and a few other tamer girls work here. The 'madam's' name is Yeniver but everyone just calls her 'Auntie Yeni.' There is only one guard/bouncer visible, a rusty colored bugbear called Pygrak or 'Pig,' but despite that whenever there is trouble beyond his capability to handle a quick shout always brings a few extra enforcers that seem to come right out of the woodwork.
Gotu will try to see if there are any hidden entrances to use that no one would notice.
Investigation Check: 18
(OOC: Crossing finger now... Glasses don't be dirty!)
It's not so much a hidden entrance but there is a backdoor.
It's locked.
(If anyone is using Stealth... or a disguise... or doing anything at all out of the ordinary, please put it in your post so everyone is aware of it.)