Red is silent as they wheel away Obed's body. Unlike the last person she saw die she doesn't think there was anything she could do for this one, still, it sits heavily in her mind and she whispers a quiet prayer for him.
She will also visit the market and buy 5 days of rations before returning to the guildhall to hear the others plans.
"I'll pass on the temple, I've got a meeting with a certain bartender to attend. I suppose Wavechaser just made inquiries about where we could get those things and not made actual appointments? Either way, I think I'll go have a talk to Captain Xondros after. See if she has anything interesting. Not that I can afford anything from her." Ves finishes with a wry grin.
Okay, coming up: • Kas, Claire, and Qivys will head to the Temple of Procan. • Red will go see a bartender and then Xondros. • Omen will attempt a reconnoissance of the House.
(I'll probably start posting about 10-12 hours from now. In the meantime, let me know if there are any further instructions or plan changes!)
Red and Omen depart on their errands. (Check your PMs!)
Kas, Claire, and Qivys head up the hill from the Guildhall to the Temple of Procan. It's a short walk past a cluster of greasy-looking farms and hovels, up along a clifftop road dangerously close to the eroding bluffs, past a sizable general store (#28 on the map) with a sign, "Winston’s Store," past the entrance to a graveyard (#27) where you see a half-orc digging a grave, and to the weatherbeaten temple.
A trio of novitiates, including the younger man you met yesterday, greet you and usher you in. They seat you in a small alcove and bring you some salty tea. A squinty old man with a full white beard and a peg leg, wearing a gray tunic, hobbles over and gives you all a smile. "Hello! You're the shipwrecked party! My name is Wellgar Brinehald, priest of the Saltmarsh Temple of Procan. I've been looking forward to gamming with you."
He sits with you and asks your names. He asks about the wreck, and the ship, and the slavers. He has lots and lots of question. Unlike Deputy Commander Clay at Hoolwatch tower, Brinehald seems genuinely interested in all the small details, and takes enjoyment out of memorizing them, and parroting back things you've said. (Let me know if there are details you want to omit, embellish, color, or refuse.)
He then launches into a series of long, semi-interesting maritime stories, of ancient wrecks, of the sailors who died of various violent and gruesome means, buried in the nearby graveyard out back. Of the warship, Gnasher, captained by a merciless, young half-dragon whose greed is as strong as a red dragon's. (When she blows the dragon’s horn - a monstrous instrument mounted to the prow of her ship - it roars like a massive dragon.) Of the Pale Prow, an old ship whose faded hull and rat-gnawed sails belie its speed and the ferocity of its crew, a ramshackle warship with an ornate rudder made from bone and wood, and sailed by elven vampires. Pale Prow doesn’t sail under the sun, and its appearance is always preceded by a heavy fog that appears without warning. Brinehald claims that Pale Prow has never been touched by a shipwright, despite its many injuries. By what means the ship is repaired, none can say.
Kasimir is surprised by the old priest. He had braced himself to be grilled by a pompous, self-important old goat and lectured on the importance of piety and prayer. Instead, he finds himself warming to the garrulous priest, who appeared more interested trading stories than in gathering information from suspicious strangers. Still, he recognizes the savvy questions mixed in with the disarming banter. He likes Brinehald, but he doesn't entirely let his guard down, being very forthcoming on any details of the slavers and their ship but vague on questions about his personal history.
As the priest winds down his tale of ocean-going vampire elves, Kasimir attempts to nudge the conversation toward the Alchemist House. "We hear the sea isn't the only danger here. Since we've been in town we keep hearing of an abandoned house -- an alchemist's old home, I think -- that the locals seem very spooked by. Strange lights and moaning noises? Everyone blames all their misfortunes on this house -- even those monsters we encountered near the beach yesterday -- but no one seems to know what exactly is going on out there. Have you heard anything of this place? Not more vampires, I suppose?"
Brinehald scowls at the thought of the House, but then shrugs. "Yes, that unholy place. That house ought be cleansed. Still, let the abandoned edifice rot in obscurity so long as the dead leave it alone. Procan’s domain is the sea. When the sea reaches its limit at the shore, so too does Procan’s power. We care but little for what happens beyond his waters. I told you about Captain Sufocan of the Pale Prow, didn't I? The elven vampire commander?"
"But did I tell you the story of the galleon, Curiosity? It belonged to a renowned mage, who dispatched it to a distant shore in search of treasure. But the ship sank in a mysterious and especially ferocious storm, about twenty years ago, about a mile off of Saltmarsh, in deep waters. It's said he had an odd, crab-like apparatus aboard, guarded to this day by a foul demon from the Abyss."
Qiv sits quietly sipping the salty tea while the old priest prattles on abut sunken ships. He answers questions that are directed at him but doesn't offer up any more detail than required. All the while fixated on the information, or lack of, about the house. Why don't these people seem to care about these demon creatures? Even a priest who should be tending his flock seems to dismiss them. Enough was enough. "Excuse me Brinehald, but why hasn't someone cleansed the house already? If this truly is the lair of these unholy beasts we have seen, why are you so dismissive about it? I know you said that Procans domain is the sea, but surely he wouldn't want his followers to come to harm. Even the young acolyte was surprised at how close to town the attack was. I fear that left unchecked, these creatures may become even more brazen and attack the town." Qiv is visibly emotional about the subject. His face going on reddish hue. He is trying to stay calm, but his anger at the lack of action is bubbling to the surface. "Forgive me if I sound rude, I just cannot stand the thought of these demon spawn taking hold of the town. Surely there is something that can be done"His face slowly returns to its normal colour.
"Ah, yes, the attack. My acolytes tell me you fought the jackalweres off well. Saltmarsh is like an old rowboat, full of holes. It's hard to know which to patch first. The jackalweres were probably from the Dreadwood, not the house. In that vile wood, the planar bindings between Oerth and the Shadowfell are dangerously thin. There's the Sea Princes and their raiding ships, victimizing Saltmarsh for centuries. On the west, there are the treacherous Hool Marshes, full of tall, sickly trees and great swarms of biting insects, but also outlaws and raiders; and the Drowned Forest, full of blights and unnatural fungi. The Dunwater is full of oozes. And in the deeps are unworldly threats we cannot even contemplate, which could swallow us at any moment."
"Your ship was not the only wreck in the recent storm. We lost Sinker as well, just off Crabber's Cove, very close to where you came ashore. The water is only maybe fifteen feet deep there. Sinker was a small fishing boat named for the exquisite, silvered fishing pole its owner had aboard. It's a fancy pole. If you fellows feel up to it, go investigate the wreck for me, and, if you can find them, bring us back the two sailors who were aboard, for proper burial. You can keep the pole, and if I can help you with any clerical, holy needs which might be helpful in cleansing the house on the cliff, I would be happy to provide them. Be cautious about the cove, however. More than one overeager fisherman has disappeared into the clacking darkness there, never to be seen again."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kasimir:
Kasimir is startled by the normally-unflappable dwarf's outburst, but he can't disagree with the sentiment. Everyone in town is scared of that place, and you just sit up here sipping tea? Maybe some dumb adventurers will wash ashore and take care of it for you. But Brinehald's explanation does hold some water (pardon the pun). Saltmarsh sounds as though it's completely surrounded by dangers. Why in the world anyone would choose to make this place home is beyond him. Still, you would think the temple could handle one of the threats.
"It does sound like there's no shortage of dangers to the town. We're hardly capable of ridding the Marsh of thieves or fixing the wall between planes, but we might take a look into the alchemist's house. It seems like our size of problem. Is there anything you could do to aid us? My friend here walloped one of those werebeasts but it hardly flinched. Perhaps you could bless our weapons, or maybe supply some holy water or something? I don't know what we're facing, but I'm sure its elimination is for the good of the town.
Brinehald stands. "I'm quite good at spells, at least of the holy nature, if there is something I can be of service with." He scratches his head. "I'm not sure what. I usually only bless departing vessels. I'm afraid I don't have any holy water I can part with at the moment. I even brought somebody back from the dead once. A tricky bit of magic, that. Quite expensive. They couldn't be dead more than ten days, neither. Magic is funny that way."
He walks over to the large windows overlooking the cliff and the sea, and gestures for you to follow him. He peers to the left and points in a direction just past the abandoned cabins on the beach. "See that last cabin on the left? Just past that. I think I can even see the mast. That's Sinker. Aptly named. We'd be ever so grateful if you were to go see if the bodies were still aboard, and fetch 'em back here. Mind the crabs, though. When I was a young man, one almost took my toe off!"
Qiv turns to Kas and whispers "I wonder if that silver pole might work as a spear or quarterstaff? Perhaps we should run this recovery job first. He seems pleasant enough, but I think the salt air may have pickled our priests perceptions. What do you think lad?"
Kas shrugs and whispers back to Qivys: "He certainly seems obsessed with that wreck. I was kind of hoping he'd be of some use, but we've gotten neither information nor aid. We should talk to the others about the Sinker, but I'm not too keen on fishing corpses out of a wreck for a fancy fishing pole. If recovering the bodies so important to these guys why aren't they doing it themselves? Regardless, I think we're done here."
Kasimir stands and gives the old cleric a polite nod. "Thank you for the tea and the stories. If things go badly for us, it's good to know you'll be here to dispose of our remains." He turns and stalks out of the temple, shaking his head.
Brinehald turns from the window. "Please come to our services! We don't have one tonight, but we do have a good service planned for tomorrow night. We hope you can join us." He pauses. "Let me know if I can help you with that house. I'd join you, but I don't think you need a one-legged old man slowing you down" he adds, only somewhat convincingly. "And do consider helping us with Sinker!"
(It's still early afternoon. You don't expect Omen to be back until evening, and Red didn't say when she would return. Do you have any business you'd like to undertake before rendezvousing back at the Mariners' Guildhall?)
Upon leaving the Temple, Qivys takes a stroll back down to the beach. He passes the site of the jackalwere attack, skirts around the crabs (the tide of which has subsided somewhat, but are still evident crawling about the abandoned cabins), down the beach, and back to the wreck site. There is still plenty of debris evident - including the bloated body of one slaver, freshly ashore with the latest tide - and some new timbers. But many of the large timbers you remember have been taken, and the crate of daggers with it. no sign of them.
Unless you have further business, I will fold the solo threads (Red's and Omen's) back into the main timeline, and reconvene you all at the Mariner's Guildhall in time for "mix". (I'll post next in 9-12 hours.)
Red and Omen join the rest of you, just after dark at the Mariners' Guildhall, just in time for more of Ob's "mix" and biscuits and tea.
Omen looks pretty bushed, but the gang's all together again.
The usual motley assortment of mariners are here. They're quite loud, and some of them clearly have snuck in alcohol. There are a couple of newly sick sailors, too, coughing and retching in their bunks.
He casts an eye towards the rest of the guildhall crowd. "Do we want to have this conversation out in the open like this or postpone it till we are on the road in the morning?" he asks.
Kasimir nods to Omen. "Point well taken. I'm as prepared as I can be. Unless anyone has anything they need to do tomorrow morning, I say we hit the road by first light."
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Red
Red is silent as they wheel away Obed's body. Unlike the last person she saw die she doesn't think there was anything she could do for this one, still, it sits heavily in her mind and she whispers a quiet prayer for him.
She will also visit the market and buy 5 days of rations before returning to the guildhall to hear the others plans.
"I'll pass on the temple, I've got a meeting with a certain bartender to attend. I suppose Wavechaser just made inquiries about where we could get those things and not made actual appointments? Either way, I think I'll go have a talk to Captain Xondros after. See if she has anything interesting. Not that I can afford anything from her." Ves finishes with a wry grin.
(Just to clarify, Qiv fully intends to join the others in their visit to the temple.)
Okay, coming up:
• Kas, Claire, and Qivys will head to the Temple of Procan.
• Red will go see a bartender and then Xondros.
• Omen will attempt a reconnoissance of the House.
(I'll probably start posting about 10-12 hours from now. In the meantime, let me know if there are any further instructions or plan changes!)
Red and Omen depart on their errands. (Check your PMs!)
Kas, Claire, and Qivys head up the hill from the Guildhall to the Temple of Procan. It's a short walk past a cluster of greasy-looking farms and hovels, up along a clifftop road dangerously close to the eroding bluffs, past a sizable general store (#28 on the map) with a sign, "Winston’s Store," past the entrance to a graveyard (#27) where you see a half-orc digging a grave, and to the weatherbeaten temple.
A trio of novitiates, including the younger man you met yesterday, greet you and usher you in. They seat you in a small alcove and bring you some salty tea. A squinty old man with a full white beard and a peg leg, wearing a gray tunic, hobbles over and gives you all a smile. "Hello! You're the shipwrecked party! My name is Wellgar Brinehald, priest of the Saltmarsh Temple of Procan. I've been looking forward to gamming with you."
He sits with you and asks your names. He asks about the wreck, and the ship, and the slavers. He has lots and lots of question. Unlike Deputy Commander Clay at Hoolwatch tower, Brinehald seems genuinely interested in all the small details, and takes enjoyment out of memorizing them, and parroting back things you've said. (Let me know if there are details you want to omit, embellish, color, or refuse.)
He then launches into a series of long, semi-interesting maritime stories, of ancient wrecks, of the sailors who died of various violent and gruesome means, buried in the nearby graveyard out back. Of the warship, Gnasher, captained by a merciless, young half-dragon whose greed is as strong as a red dragon's. (When she blows the dragon’s horn - a monstrous instrument mounted to the prow of her ship - it roars like a massive dragon.) Of the Pale Prow, an old ship whose faded hull and rat-gnawed sails belie its speed and the ferocity of its crew, a ramshackle warship with an ornate rudder made from bone and wood, and sailed by elven vampires. Pale Prow doesn’t sail under the sun, and its appearance is always preceded by a heavy fog that appears without warning. Brinehald claims that Pale Prow has never been touched by a shipwright, despite its many injuries. By what means the ship is repaired, none can say.
The tea keeps pouring.
Kasimir:
Kasimir is surprised by the old priest. He had braced himself to be grilled by a pompous, self-important old goat and lectured on the importance of piety and prayer. Instead, he finds himself warming to the garrulous priest, who appeared more interested trading stories than in gathering information from suspicious strangers. Still, he recognizes the savvy questions mixed in with the disarming banter. He likes Brinehald, but he doesn't entirely let his guard down, being very forthcoming on any details of the slavers and their ship but vague on questions about his personal history.
As the priest winds down his tale of ocean-going vampire elves, Kasimir attempts to nudge the conversation toward the Alchemist House. "We hear the sea isn't the only danger here. Since we've been in town we keep hearing of an abandoned house -- an alchemist's old home, I think -- that the locals seem very spooked by. Strange lights and moaning noises? Everyone blames all their misfortunes on this house -- even those monsters we encountered near the beach yesterday -- but no one seems to know what exactly is going on out there. Have you heard anything of this place? Not more vampires, I suppose?"
Brinehald scowls at the thought of the House, but then shrugs. "Yes, that unholy place. That house ought be cleansed. Still, let the abandoned edifice rot in obscurity so long as the dead leave it alone. Procan’s domain is the sea. When the sea reaches its limit at the shore, so too does Procan’s power. We care but little for what happens beyond his waters. I told you about Captain Sufocan of the Pale Prow, didn't I? The elven vampire commander?"
"But did I tell you the story of the galleon, Curiosity? It belonged to a renowned mage, who dispatched it to a distant shore in search of treasure. But the ship sank in a mysterious and especially ferocious storm, about twenty years ago, about a mile off of Saltmarsh, in deep waters. It's said he had an odd, crab-like apparatus aboard, guarded to this day by a foul demon from the Abyss."
More tea comes, and more stories.
Qivys
Qiv sits quietly sipping the salty tea while the old priest prattles on abut sunken ships. He answers questions that are directed at him but doesn't offer up any more detail than required. All the while fixated on the information, or lack of, about the house. Why don't these people seem to care about these demon creatures? Even a priest who should be tending his flock seems to dismiss them. Enough was enough. "Excuse me Brinehald, but why hasn't someone cleansed the house already? If this truly is the lair of these unholy beasts we have seen, why are you so dismissive about it? I know you said that Procans domain is the sea, but surely he wouldn't want his followers to come to harm. Even the young acolyte was surprised at how close to town the attack was. I fear that left unchecked, these creatures may become even more brazen and attack the town." Qiv is visibly emotional about the subject. His face going on reddish hue. He is trying to stay calm, but his anger at the lack of action is bubbling to the surface. "Forgive me if I sound rude, I just cannot stand the thought of these demon spawn taking hold of the town. Surely there is something that can be done" His face slowly returns to its normal colour.
"Ah, yes, the attack. My acolytes tell me you fought the jackalweres off well. Saltmarsh is like an old rowboat, full of holes. It's hard to know which to patch first. The jackalweres were probably from the Dreadwood, not the house. In that vile wood, the planar bindings between Oerth and the Shadowfell are dangerously thin. There's the Sea Princes and their raiding ships, victimizing Saltmarsh for centuries. On the west, there are the treacherous Hool Marshes, full of tall, sickly trees and great swarms of biting insects, but also outlaws and raiders; and the Drowned Forest, full of blights and unnatural fungi. The Dunwater is full of oozes. And in the deeps are unworldly threats we cannot even contemplate, which could swallow us at any moment."
"Your ship was not the only wreck in the recent storm. We lost Sinker as well, just off Crabber's Cove, very close to where you came ashore. The water is only maybe fifteen feet deep there. Sinker was a small fishing boat named for the exquisite, silvered fishing pole its owner had aboard. It's a fancy pole. If you fellows feel up to it, go investigate the wreck for me, and, if you can find them, bring us back the two sailors who were aboard, for proper burial. You can keep the pole, and if I can help you with any clerical, holy needs which might be helpful in cleansing the house on the cliff, I would be happy to provide them. Be cautious about the cove, however. More than one overeager fisherman has disappeared into the clacking darkness there, never to be seen again."
Kasimir:
Kasimir is startled by the normally-unflappable dwarf's outburst, but he can't disagree with the sentiment. Everyone in town is scared of that place, and you just sit up here sipping tea? Maybe some dumb adventurers will wash ashore and take care of it for you. But Brinehald's explanation does hold some water (pardon the pun). Saltmarsh sounds as though it's completely surrounded by dangers. Why in the world anyone would choose to make this place home is beyond him. Still, you would think the temple could handle one of the threats.
"It does sound like there's no shortage of dangers to the town. We're hardly capable of ridding the Marsh of thieves or fixing the wall between planes, but we might take a look into the alchemist's house. It seems like our size of problem. Is there anything you could do to aid us? My friend here walloped one of those werebeasts but it hardly flinched. Perhaps you could bless our weapons, or maybe supply some holy water or something? I don't know what we're facing, but I'm sure its elimination is for the good of the town.
Persuasion = 23
Brinehald stands. "I'm quite good at spells, at least of the holy nature, if there is something I can be of service with." He scratches his head. "I'm not sure what. I usually only bless departing vessels. I'm afraid I don't have any holy water I can part with at the moment. I even brought somebody back from the dead once. A tricky bit of magic, that. Quite expensive. They couldn't be dead more than ten days, neither. Magic is funny that way."
He walks over to the large windows overlooking the cliff and the sea, and gestures for you to follow him. He peers to the left and points in a direction just past the abandoned cabins on the beach. "See that last cabin on the left? Just past that. I think I can even see the mast. That's Sinker. Aptly named. We'd be ever so grateful if you were to go see if the bodies were still aboard, and fetch 'em back here. Mind the crabs, though. When I was a young man, one almost took my toe off!"
Qivys
Qiv turns to Kas and whispers "I wonder if that silver pole might work as a spear or quarterstaff? Perhaps we should run this recovery job first. He seems pleasant enough, but I think the salt air may have pickled our priests perceptions. What do you think lad?"
Kasimir:
Kas shrugs and whispers back to Qivys: "He certainly seems obsessed with that wreck. I was kind of hoping he'd be of some use, but we've gotten neither information nor aid. We should talk to the others about the Sinker, but I'm not too keen on fishing corpses out of a wreck for a fancy fishing pole. If recovering the bodies so important to these guys why aren't they doing it themselves? Regardless, I think we're done here."
Kasimir stands and gives the old cleric a polite nod. "Thank you for the tea and the stories. If things go badly for us, it's good to know you'll be here to dispose of our remains." He turns and stalks out of the temple, shaking his head.
Brinehald turns from the window. "Please come to our services! We don't have one tonight, but we do have a good service planned for tomorrow night. We hope you can join us." He pauses. "Let me know if I can help you with that house. I'd join you, but I don't think you need a one-legged old man slowing you down" he adds, only somewhat convincingly. "And do consider helping us with Sinker!"
(It's still early afternoon. You don't expect Omen to be back until evening, and Red didn't say when she would return. Do you have any business you'd like to undertake before rendezvousing back at the Mariners' Guildhall?)
(Would there be time to retrieve the case of daggers from the beach before The Anvil closes?)
(Definitely. The beach is quite close. You could be back at the wreck site in 30 minutes.)
Upon leaving the Temple, Qivys takes a stroll back down to the beach. He passes the site of the jackalwere attack, skirts around the crabs (the tide of which has subsided somewhat, but are still evident crawling about the abandoned cabins), down the beach, and back to the wreck site. There is still plenty of debris evident - including the bloated body of one slaver, freshly ashore with the latest tide - and some new timbers. But many of the large timbers you remember have been taken, and the crate of daggers with it. no sign of them.
Unless you have further business, I will fold the solo threads (Red's and Omen's) back into the main timeline, and reconvene you all at the Mariner's Guildhall in time for "mix". (I'll post next in 9-12 hours.)
Red and Omen join the rest of you, just after dark at the Mariners' Guildhall, just in time for more of Ob's "mix" and biscuits and tea.
Omen looks pretty bushed, but the gang's all together again.
The usual motley assortment of mariners are here. They're quite loud, and some of them clearly have snuck in alcohol. There are a couple of newly sick sailors, too, coughing and retching in their bunks.
What's your plan, everyone?
Omen
Omen will clean up a bit then sit with everyone.
He casts an eye towards the rest of the guildhall crowd. "Do we want to have this conversation out in the open like this or postpone it till we are on the road in the morning?" he asks.
Kasimir:
Kasimir nods to Omen. "Point well taken. I'm as prepared as I can be. Unless anyone has anything they need to do tomorrow morning, I say we hit the road by first light."