Lira has heard of an Inn in this district called: The Black Lobster Inn (H15). It is large, full at all hours, and is said to be full of drunken sailors, adventurers, travelers, docksmen, and fisherman. Lots of marks, pickpockets. You've heard the food and ale are not great here, but of the options, it may be the "best."
"Hm, what was it...? Ah, The Black Lobster Inn. Still full of pickpockets, but it's supposed to be the best in this district. A decent place to get some privacy make a plan at least," Lira informs the others, ready to lead the way if they agree.
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| Joy - Hexblood Open Sea Paladin - Netherdeep| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep| Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia| Arkon - Goliath Champion Fighter - Hardcore DiA| Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren| Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron| Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault| Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts Manor |
With watchful eyes and hands on your purse, you move toward the docks. They are quite busy, with sailors loading and unloading various cargo. On the docks, fishmongers skin fresh catches from the morning runs. Moving toward the Inn, it appears lively and busy as lunch is now being served.
A large board near the docks seems to have attached various jobs, notices, and announcements.
The Black Lobster Inn squats on the corner of the docks, its warped timbers dark with salt and spray. Even in daylight the place is crowded — sailors, dockhands, and rough travelers shouting over one another, tankards already in hand though the sun is still high. The smell of weak ale and fish stew fills the air, but most here are too drunk to care. On the way to the Inn, there are clearly some other establishments but they look even worse. H13: The Vulgar Goblin Inn, and H14: The Hemlock tavern
Whether you actually notice or its just your paranoia, you certainly feel as if your group is being watched, but no one sees anyone following you at this time.
This notice looks different from the rest — parchment thicker, sealed at the top with a crude impression of a snowflake in blue wax. The ink is sharp and recent.
“By order of the Coven of Eternal Winter: Any who recover relics and artifacts stolen or hoarded by the serpent’s followers — the so-called Cult of the Dragon King — shall be rewarded. Deliver them to the hands of the Coven, and your loyalty will not go unnoticed.”
Guild betrayers
By Order of Werik Longfinger
"Branded deserters of Crimson Legion. Deliver alive, 100gp."
Runaways
Childlike sketches of two thin figures.
“Two apprentices fled from their masters in the Slums District. Last seen near the docks. Return alive for coin.”
Reward: 10 silver crowns.
Bounty Wall Notice: The Old Wizard
A small scrap of parchment, half torn and nailed crooked among the larger bounties. The ink is faded, the sketch little more than a rough outline of a stooped man in a wide-brimmed hat. The face is smudged beyond recognition.
“The wizard still lingers in Blacksand. Some call him a fool, others a danger.
The Ghost Corsair
A pirate with a tricorne hat. The sketch is smeared, almost useless.
“The pale captain walks again. He must be stopped. Bring his rapier as proof.”
As the group studies the notice board, you begin to note the usual chatter of gulls and the dockside calls is cut short. There are shouts as the dockworkers scatter, merchants slam their shutters, and the air hums with anticipation. Then two mobs appear at once
From behind you (North), a large group of 20 or more assorted thugs pour in, grinning with teeth blackened like rot, knives and other sharp weapons at the ready.(Black Daggers)
From the other side (south) and the east, an even larger group of red-sashed thugs (Crimson Legion) move in, their blades and other deadly weapons glinting in the light.
The two gangs square up about 20 feet apart, while you stand against the dock and waters edge.
Neither side moves, both groups looking each other over with murderous intent, sweat dripping from brows. The whole area is completely silent. A standoff.
(There is no real way to get out of there, unless you jump into the water, or walk onto a dock and go onto a ship, but there is room to move, for current map, each square is 10 feet. The door to the Lobster is shut. There are more tokens than fit on the board.)
Lev follows the others to the inn, keeping an eye out for potential threats whilst also keeping his head down. He pulls up short at the sight of the board, eyes widening in surprise.... wait. This doesn't make any sense? They'd left him for dead... how do they know he's alive?
He pulls his hood further over his face, glancing hurriedly at his companions. The poster didn't list a name, so perhaps his signing a false name didn't matter anymore. What if the guards recognized him? No... if they had they would have arrested him on the spot. Well, perhaps a few of them decided to hold their tongues in hopes they could get the reward later for themselves.
He'd known they might run into the crimson legion here, so that doesn't come as a surprise. This however... while he was wary he hadn't expected there to actually be a target on his back. He could be putting the entire company in danger just by being near them. He grits his teeth, shutting his eyes for a moment before forcing himself to look at the board again.
Scanning the drawings of the other deserters to see if he recognizes them, he frowns upon noticing the bit about the wizard. ... could that be the wizard they are looking for? His thoughts are interrupted when the two mobs appear. Noticing the red sashes he mutters a curse under his breath and tugs at his hood again, trying to move to the back of the company for once.
"We need to get out of here," he growls, "The docks... that looks like our only option."
Iólinder thinks one of the pictures looks familiar and steps closer to Lev.
"I think we can take them." He says dryly, then smiles.
"The docks would at least prevent them from surrounding us... For a bit. Perhaps they'll attack each other?" He shrugs.
"You're not alone."
Iólinder will step toward the entrance to the dock obviously intent on waiting until the others move into the dock before going himself. (If they go that way)
His focus is on the members of the mobs to see how they react to each other...
Insight (or perception) 13
He holds his shield (and holy symbol) as if ready to evoke channel divinity. Certainty radiates from him as he shows no hesitation.
(they seem to have no interest in the party) A huge bald orc from the Crimson Legion strides forward, daggers at his hips, eyes locked on the Black Daggers’ lieutenant. Fingers twitch. Knuckles whiten. Hands right above both daggers. Then—
BOLTS FLY. Two Black Daggers crumple, crossbow bolts in their throats. He yells a battle cry.
The docks erupt in a roar as both gangs charge and the carnage begins.
Lev's eyes are ice cold as he glances from Iolinder to the scene unfolding before them. He know's he isn't alone... that's the problem right now. If any of those gang members recognize him then they are all in danger, not just him... but then again, for all he knows they probably think he's dead.
"They probably think I'm dead," he says in a low tone. "But for as long as we're here, my name is Kalan. No point in taking risks."
Lev waits alongside Iolinder for the others to walk onto the dock, careful to keep his back to the two fighting groups... just in case. Well, mostly. He watches over his shoulder warily... just because the gangs are fighting each other doesn't mean they don't have to worry about a crossbow bolt flying their way.
Zarbyn retreats to the docks with the others and get out of the way of the two warring street gangs.
"This isn't our fight and we should stay out of it if we can."
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"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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Lira pauses in thought, trying to remember if she has heard of any place to lodge in Blacksand that is a bit safer than the others.
History: 10 (or 20 if advantage from being in thieves' guild)
| Joy - Hexblood Open Sea Paladin - Netherdeep | Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Arkon - Goliath Champion Fighter - Hardcore DiA | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts Manor |
Lira has heard of an Inn in this district called: The Black Lobster Inn (H15). It is large, full at all hours, and is said to be full of drunken sailors, adventurers, travelers, docksmen, and fisherman. Lots of marks, pickpockets. You've heard the food and ale are not great here, but of the options, it may be the "best."
"Hm, what was it...? Ah, The Black Lobster Inn. Still full of pickpockets, but it's supposed to be the best in this district. A decent place to get some privacy make a plan at least," Lira informs the others, ready to lead the way if they agree.
| Joy - Hexblood Open Sea Paladin - Netherdeep | Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Arkon - Goliath Champion Fighter - Hardcore DiA | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts Manor |
(OWL BEAR UP to help us navigate in the city: Here is the link: https://www.owlbear.rodeo/room/HHsHhfADc9Vc/The%20Known%20Dirt
With watchful eyes and hands on your purse, you move toward the docks. They are quite busy, with sailors loading and unloading various cargo. On the docks, fishmongers skin fresh catches from the morning runs. Moving toward the Inn, it appears lively and busy as lunch is now being served.
A large board near the docks seems to have attached various jobs, notices, and announcements.
The Black Lobster Inn squats on the corner of the docks, its warped timbers dark with salt and spray. Even in daylight the place is crowded — sailors, dockhands, and rough travelers shouting over one another, tankards already in hand though the sun is still high. The smell of weak ale and fish stew fills the air, but most here are too drunk to care. On the way to the Inn, there are clearly some other establishments but they look even worse. H13: The Vulgar Goblin Inn, and H14: The Hemlock tavern
Whether you actually notice or its just your paranoia, you certainly feel as if your group is being watched, but no one sees anyone following you at this time.
Lira pauses to scan the notice board for anything that might have to do with their mission.
| Joy - Hexblood Open Sea Paladin - Netherdeep | Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Arkon - Goliath Champion Fighter - Hardcore DiA | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts Manor |
(Give me a perception roll)
Lira perception: 14
| Joy - Hexblood Open Sea Paladin - Netherdeep | Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Arkon - Goliath Champion Fighter - Hardcore DiA | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts Manor |
A number of posts line the board:
Reward by Decree of the Coven of Eternal Winter
This notice looks different from the rest — parchment thicker, sealed at the top with a crude impression of a snowflake in blue wax. The ink is sharp and recent.
“By order of the Coven of Eternal Winter: Any who recover relics and artifacts stolen or hoarded by the serpent’s followers — the so-called Cult of the Dragon King — shall be rewarded. Deliver them to the hands of the Coven, and your loyalty will not go unnoticed.”
Guild betrayers
By Order of Werik Longfinger
"Branded deserters of Crimson Legion. Deliver alive, 100gp."
Runaways
Childlike sketches of two thin figures.
“Two apprentices fled from their masters in the Slums District. Last seen near the docks. Return alive for coin.”
Reward: 10 silver crowns.
Bounty Wall Notice: The Old Wizard
A small scrap of parchment, half torn and nailed crooked among the larger bounties. The ink is faded, the sketch little more than a rough outline of a stooped man in a wide-brimmed hat. The face is smudged beyond recognition.
“The wizard still lingers in Blacksand. Some call him a fool, others a danger.
The Ghost Corsair
A pirate with a tricorne hat. The sketch is smeared, almost useless.
“The pale captain walks again. He must be stopped. Bring his rapier as proof.”
Lira:
In Thieves Cant:
“BLACK DAGGERS vs CRIMSON LEGION”
Below that, in darker ink:
“No blades hidden, no tricks in the dark. Swords, knives, and fists. Let’s settle this — once and for all.”
At the bottom, someone has smeared a blood-red handprint, half-dried and crusted.
Amdaeng looked the notices over knowing there was not a single one there she had any intention of assisting with.
" Yeah.....they really don't like the wizard......looking around that probably makes him pretty decent...."
" So.....shall we find some beds to get murdered in?"
As the group studies the notice board, you begin to note the usual chatter of gulls and the dockside calls is cut short. There are shouts as the dockworkers scatter, merchants slam their shutters, and the air hums with anticipation. Then two mobs appear at once
From behind you (North), a large group of 20 or more assorted thugs pour in, grinning with teeth blackened like rot, knives and other sharp weapons at the ready.(Black Daggers)
From the other side (south) and the east, an even larger group of red-sashed thugs (Crimson Legion) move in, their blades and other deadly weapons glinting in the light.
The two gangs square up about 20 feet apart, while you stand against the dock and waters edge.
Neither side moves, both groups looking each other over with murderous intent, sweat dripping from brows. The whole area is completely silent.
A standoff.
(There is no real way to get out of there, unless you jump into the water, or walk onto a dock and go onto a ship, but there is room to move, for current map, each square is 10 feet. The door to the Lobster is shut. There are more tokens than fit on the board.)
Lev follows the others to the inn, keeping an eye out for potential threats whilst also keeping his head down. He pulls up short at the sight of the board, eyes widening in surprise.... wait. This doesn't make any sense? They'd left him for dead... how do they know he's alive?
He pulls his hood further over his face, glancing hurriedly at his companions. The poster didn't list a name, so perhaps his signing a false name didn't matter anymore. What if the guards recognized him? No... if they had they would have arrested him on the spot. Well, perhaps a few of them decided to hold their tongues in hopes they could get the reward later for themselves.
He'd known they might run into the crimson legion here, so that doesn't come as a surprise. This however... while he was wary he hadn't expected there to actually be a target on his back. He could be putting the entire company in danger just by being near them. He grits his teeth, shutting his eyes for a moment before forcing himself to look at the board again.
Scanning the drawings of the other deserters to see if he recognizes them, he frowns upon noticing the bit about the wizard. ... could that be the wizard they are looking for? His thoughts are interrupted when the two mobs appear. Noticing the red sashes he mutters a curse under his breath and tugs at his hood again, trying to move to the back of the company for once.
"We need to get out of here," he growls, "The docks... that looks like our only option."
Iólinder thinks one of the pictures looks familiar and steps closer to Lev.
"I think we can take them." He says dryly, then smiles.
"The docks would at least prevent them from surrounding us... For a bit. Perhaps they'll attack each other?" He shrugs.
"You're not alone."
Iólinder will step toward the entrance to the dock obviously intent on waiting until the others move into the dock before going himself. (If they go that way)
His focus is on the members of the mobs to see how they react to each other...
Insight (or perception) 13
He holds his shield (and holy symbol) as if ready to evoke channel divinity. Certainty radiates from him as he shows no hesitation.
(they seem to have no interest in the party)
A huge bald orc from the Crimson Legion strides forward, daggers at his hips, eyes locked on the Black Daggers’ lieutenant. Fingers twitch. Knuckles whiten. Hands right above both daggers. Then—
BOLTS FLY. Two Black Daggers crumple, crossbow bolts in their throats. He yells a battle cry.
The docks erupt in a roar as both gangs charge and the carnage begins.
Lev's eyes are ice cold as he glances from Iolinder to the scene unfolding before them. He know's he isn't alone... that's the problem right now. If any of those gang members recognize him then they are all in danger, not just him... but then again, for all he knows they probably think he's dead.
"They probably think I'm dead," he says in a low tone. "But for as long as we're here, my name is Kalan. No point in taking risks."
Lev waits alongside Iolinder for the others to walk onto the dock, careful to keep his back to the two fighting groups... just in case. Well, mostly. He watches over his shoulder warily... just because the gangs are fighting each other doesn't mean they don't have to worry about a crossbow bolt flying their way.
Zarbyn retreats to the docks with the others and get out of the way of the two warring street gangs.
"This isn't our fight and we should stay out of it if we can."