Vydar scans the docks and nearby buildings for anywhere that might make a good vantage point. (Or anything that looks suspicious)
Perception: 18
(I'm considering having him using levitate to get on top of a building if he couldn't climb up it discreetly. He'd only do this if he could be out of sight while on top of the building)
Lev moves to the far edge of the dock, doing his best to stay inconspicuous while also moving to a place where he can observe the ships coming in and perhaps get a glimpse of this 'colder than steel' weapon.
After seeing the workers carrying weapons into the warehouse, Jherak casually strolls over to Lira and Amdaeng and lets them know what he saw. He suggests Lira keep an eye on the location the weapons were carried into, until they can notify some of the others.
Lev does not think he is noticed, but he and Halbert, staying at the edge of the dock, may eventually be.
Vydar would need to move to one of the buildings if he wants to climb up. He could choose any building on the map. Amdaeng and Lira are now on the roof of a building across from the spice warehouse (South). Zarbyn is directly north of the building, unloading fish. (See map and move token where you would like a vantage point. (Can also choose spice warehouse if you think that wise) Jherek is south east of the spice warehouse on the ground in an ally way.
Jherak is able to convey what he sees but then Amdaeng and Lira climb the building.
From their positions along the edge of the pier where the river meets the sea, Halbert, Lev, and Vydar continue their quiet watch over Herring Wharf.
The harbor still moves with its usual rhythm, but something about the activity begins to feel different.
A broad-hulled merchant vessel that arrived earlier in the day remains tied to the dock nearby. Cargo comes down the gangplank in steady fashion: sacks of spice, heavy wooden crates bearing merchant seals, and several large barrels of salted fish.
A harbor master oversees the unloading while a pair of tax collectors review ledgers and stamped documents. Dockhands carry the goods inland toward the warehouses while gulls circle overhead, shrieking and diving for scraps.
For a while the work continues normally.
Then a group of rough men appear along the waterfront. There are five of them this time.They stroll slowly down the pier, speaking casually with one another. They carry themselves with the confidence of men accustomed to being feared. Swords hang openly at their belts and one man carries a heavy cudgel across his shoulder.
Two of them wear red scarves on their arms.
The Crimson Legion.
The group is further down the pier to the east, moving past fishermen mending nets and laborers loading carts.
A short distance away they approach an older dock supervisor arguing with a pair of young workers beside a stack of cargo crates. One of the legionnaires casually steps between them.
The conversation is too quiet to hear clearly, but the tone is unmistakable.The dock supervisor gestures toward the water, clearly protesting something about the schedule. One of the thugs slowly leans closer and says something in return.The supervisor’s expression changes. After a moment he gives a reluctant nod.
The legionnaires move on.
A few minutes later the supervisor begins directing several workers to start closing up the nearby loading area earlier than expected. Crates are stacked and covered with tarps. Two laborers roll a handcart away from the pier while another begins locking the doors of a small storage shed. One fisherman mutters loudly about losing half a day’s work before packing up his nets and leaving.
Within the next half hour, several small operations along the dock begin shutting down. No announcement is made. But once again, the message spreads quickly.The Crimson Legion wants fewer people near this part of the waterfront.
By late afternoon, the end of the pier where the party keeps watch has grown noticeably quieter than it was earlier in the day.
Only a handful of workers remain.
The rest drift back toward the streets of Port Blacksand as it gets closer to sunset. Off in the distance to the southwest in the deep ocean, Vydar spots two distant ships.
Lev recognizes the signs immediately—the red scarves, the swagger, the quiet threats that never quite turn into open violence. The Crimson Legion is clearing the docks. He has seen it before. Not a raid, not a patrol, but preparation. Their purpose, making sure the message spreads without drawing too much attention.
Lev also notices one of the legionnaires gesture briefly toward the old spice warehouse while speaking to the dock supervisor. The man glances that way and reluctantly nods, and within minutes the workers begin packing up and leaving the pier. Before departing, one of the thugs slowly scans the remaining people along the dock as if checking who is still present. Then the group drifts away toward the harbor taverns, leaving the waterfront noticeably quieter than it should be at this hour.
While hauling baskets of silver razor-wing fish with the other dockhands, Zarbyn is close enough to hear the exchange clearly when the Crimson Legion approaches the dock supervisor. One of the thugs plants himself beside the crates and speaks in a low, threatening tone. “Pier’s closing early. Orders from Longfinger.” The supervisor protests weakly, saying the shipment still needs to be finished, but the legionnaire cuts him off. “Not tonight it doesn’t. Clear your men out.”
The supervisor hesitates, then nods reluctantly. Within moments he begins directing the workers to wrap up and move the remaining cargo inland. As Zarbyn continues working, he hears one of the legionnaires add quietly to the others, “Warehouse needs the docks quiet before nightfall.” A few minutes later the group drifts away down the pier, leaving the supervisor to push the laborers to pack up and clear the area.
From their positions overlooking the street near the abandoned spice warehouse, Amdaeng, Lira, and Jherek continue their watch as the afternoon stretches on. Before long another wagon rattles down the dockside road, its wheels groaning under the weight of several large iron-banded crates. Four laborers struggle to unload them, each crate requiring several men to lift. One slips slightly and lands with a heavy thud against the cobblestones. The thin clerk from earlier still stands at the door with his ledger, impatiently directing the men. “Inside. Quickly now—we’re behind schedule.”
More wagons follow over the next hour. Each carries similarly reinforced crates, unloaded by different crews of dockworkers but recorded carefully by the same clerk. The cargo is clearly far heavier than normal trade goods, and the growing stack of crates inside the warehouse becomes impossible to ignore.
Lira
As the wagons arrive, Lira notices a second change in the street. A group of rough men begins moving along the block—six in total, two wearing the familiar red scarves of the Crimson Legion. Unlike the watchers she noticed earlier, these men make no effort to hide what they are doing. They speak briefly with vendors and sailors, their tone enough to end any arguments quickly.
Within a short time the street begins to empty. A fish seller closes his stall after a basket is knocked to the ground, and a pair of sailors are turned back toward the city with a shove. Shop shutters close, carts roll away, and even some of the suspicious watchers Lira noticed earlier slip quietly into the alleys. The Crimson Legion is clearing the street.
Jherak moves back to his prior vantage point.
From the ally, Jherek studies the scene like a battlefield. Heavy crates continue arriving, the cargo piling up in the neighboring warehouse, while Legion men steadily push people away from the area.
The meaning is obvious. The weapons are being assembled nearby, the streets are being emptied, and the meeting mentioned by the clerk at sunset is approaching quickly. Anyone still lingering here when darkness falls will stand out. And whoever comes to claim the shipment will arrive to a street the Legion has carefully cleared for them.
Zarbyn will try to hide in that alcove he thought was a good spot.
Stealth: 19
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.”
Studying what unfolds in front of him, Jherak decides to find a position that would keep him from being found easily, even if it meant he no longer has a view of the crew of dockworkers moving crates into the warehouse. He’s seen enough to know what has occurred, as the Legion member escort people away from the area, he doesn’t want to be found by them. He scans the rooftops to see if he can make eye contact with Lira or Amdaeng. They are too well hidden for him to see either. He takes up a position of concealment, listening for any other useful indication something may be drawing near.
Stealth 13+6=19
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Vydar scans the docks and nearby buildings for anywhere that might make a good vantage point. (Or anything that looks suspicious)
Perception: 18
(I'm considering having him using levitate to get on top of a building if he couldn't climb up it discreetly. He'd only do this if he could be out of sight while on top of the building)
Lev moves to the far edge of the dock, doing his best to stay inconspicuous while also moving to a place where he can observe the ships coming in and perhaps get a glimpse of this 'colder than steel' weapon.
Perception: 7 (...sigh)
After seeing the workers carrying weapons into the warehouse, Jherak casually strolls over to Lira and Amdaeng and lets them know what he saw. He suggests Lira keep an eye on the location the weapons were carried into, until they can notify some of the others.
Lev does not think he is noticed, but he and Halbert, staying at the edge of the dock, may eventually be.
Vydar would need to move to one of the buildings if he wants to climb up. He could choose any building on the map. Amdaeng and Lira are now on the roof of a building across from the spice warehouse (South). Zarbyn is directly north of the building, unloading fish. (See map and move token where you would like a vantage point. (Can also choose spice warehouse if you think that wise) Jherek is south east of the spice warehouse on the ground in an ally way.
Jherak is able to convey what he sees but then Amdaeng and Lira climb the building.
From their positions along the edge of the pier where the river meets the sea, Halbert, Lev, and Vydar continue their quiet watch over Herring Wharf.
The harbor still moves with its usual rhythm, but something about the activity begins to feel different.
A broad-hulled merchant vessel that arrived earlier in the day remains tied to the dock nearby. Cargo comes down the gangplank in steady fashion: sacks of spice, heavy wooden crates bearing merchant seals, and several large barrels of salted fish.
A harbor master oversees the unloading while a pair of tax collectors review ledgers and stamped documents. Dockhands carry the goods inland toward the warehouses while gulls circle overhead, shrieking and diving for scraps.
For a while the work continues normally.
Then a group of rough men appear along the waterfront. There are five of them this time.They stroll slowly down the pier, speaking casually with one another. They carry themselves with the confidence of men accustomed to being feared. Swords hang openly at their belts and one man carries a heavy cudgel across his shoulder.
Two of them wear red scarves on their arms.
The Crimson Legion.
The group is further down the pier to the east, moving past fishermen mending nets and laborers loading carts.
A short distance away they approach an older dock supervisor arguing with a pair of young workers beside a stack of cargo crates. One of the legionnaires casually steps between them.
The conversation is too quiet to hear clearly, but the tone is unmistakable.The dock supervisor gestures toward the water, clearly protesting something about the schedule. One of the thugs slowly leans closer and says something in return.The supervisor’s expression changes. After a moment he gives a reluctant nod.
The legionnaires move on.
A few minutes later the supervisor begins directing several workers to start closing up the nearby loading area earlier than expected. Crates are stacked and covered with tarps. Two laborers roll a handcart away from the pier while another begins locking the doors of a small storage shed. One fisherman mutters loudly about losing half a day’s work before packing up his nets and leaving.
Within the next half hour, several small operations along the dock begin shutting down. No announcement is made. But once again, the message spreads quickly.The Crimson Legion wants fewer people near this part of the waterfront.
By late afternoon, the end of the pier where the party keeps watch has grown noticeably quieter than it was earlier in the day.
Only a handful of workers remain.
The rest drift back toward the streets of Port Blacksand as it gets closer to sunset. Off in the distance to the southwest in the deep ocean, Vydar spots two distant ships.
LEV
Lev recognizes the signs immediately—the red scarves, the swagger, the quiet threats that never quite turn into open violence. The Crimson Legion is clearing the docks. He has seen it before. Not a raid, not a patrol, but preparation. Their purpose, making sure the message spreads without drawing too much attention.
Lev also notices one of the legionnaires gesture briefly toward the old spice warehouse while speaking to the dock supervisor. The man glances that way and reluctantly nods, and within minutes the workers begin packing up and leaving the pier. Before departing, one of the thugs slowly scans the remaining people along the dock as if checking who is still present. Then the group drifts away toward the harbor taverns, leaving the waterfront noticeably quieter than it should be at this hour.
Zarbyn
While hauling baskets of silver razor-wing fish with the other dockhands, Zarbyn is close enough to hear the exchange clearly when the Crimson Legion approaches the dock supervisor. One of the thugs plants himself beside the crates and speaks in a low, threatening tone. “Pier’s closing early. Orders from Longfinger.” The supervisor protests weakly, saying the shipment still needs to be finished, but the legionnaire cuts him off. “Not tonight it doesn’t. Clear your men out.”
The supervisor hesitates, then nods reluctantly. Within moments he begins directing the workers to wrap up and move the remaining cargo inland. As Zarbyn continues working, he hears one of the legionnaires add quietly to the others, “Warehouse needs the docks quiet before nightfall.” A few minutes later the group drifts away down the pier, leaving the supervisor to push the laborers to pack up and clear the area.
Street view: Amdaeng, Lira, and Jherek
From their positions overlooking the street near the abandoned spice warehouse, Amdaeng, Lira, and Jherek continue their watch as the afternoon stretches on. Before long another wagon rattles down the dockside road, its wheels groaning under the weight of several large iron-banded crates. Four laborers struggle to unload them, each crate requiring several men to lift. One slips slightly and lands with a heavy thud against the cobblestones. The thin clerk from earlier still stands at the door with his ledger, impatiently directing the men. “Inside. Quickly now—we’re behind schedule.”
More wagons follow over the next hour. Each carries similarly reinforced crates, unloaded by different crews of dockworkers but recorded carefully by the same clerk. The cargo is clearly far heavier than normal trade goods, and the growing stack of crates inside the warehouse becomes impossible to ignore.
Lira
As the wagons arrive, Lira notices a second change in the street. A group of rough men begins moving along the block—six in total, two wearing the familiar red scarves of the Crimson Legion. Unlike the watchers she noticed earlier, these men make no effort to hide what they are doing. They speak briefly with vendors and sailors, their tone enough to end any arguments quickly.
Within a short time the street begins to empty. A fish seller closes his stall after a basket is knocked to the ground, and a pair of sailors are turned back toward the city with a shove. Shop shutters close, carts roll away, and even some of the suspicious watchers Lira noticed earlier slip quietly into the alleys. The Crimson Legion is clearing the street.
Jherak moves back to his prior vantage point.
From the ally, Jherek studies the scene like a battlefield. Heavy crates continue arriving, the cargo piling up in the neighboring warehouse, while Legion men steadily push people away from the area.
The meaning is obvious. The weapons are being assembled nearby, the streets are being emptied, and the meeting mentioned by the clerk at sunset is approaching quickly. Anyone still lingering here when darkness falls will stand out. And whoever comes to claim the shipment will arrive to a street the Legion has carefully cleared for them.
Zarbyn will try to hide in that alcove he thought was a good spot.
Stealth: 19
Studying what unfolds in front of him, Jherak decides to find a position that would keep him from being found easily, even if it meant he no longer has a view of the crew of dockworkers moving crates into the warehouse.
He’s seen enough to know what has occurred, as the Legion member escort people away from the area, he doesn’t want to be found by them. He scans the rooftops to see if he can make eye contact with Lira or Amdaeng. They are too well hidden for him to see either. He takes up a position of concealment, listening for any other useful indication something may be drawing near.
Stealth 13+6=19