Omen will follow along, taking in the sites. Upon reaching the Dwarven Anvil he will just watch the exchange between the party and what appears to be a mute dwarf. Omen will look around the smithy, taking in the sites and seeing what the blacksmith has to offer. Passive Investigation (14): 22
Omen will also look to see if there is a holy symbol in the smithy. Investigations: 19
The man is no dwarf, but rather a human. The only things Dwarven here are the anvil, the building itself (probably), and a small shrine to Moradin you spy under the eaves, which appears somewhat neglected. (Moradin is chief deity in the Dwarven pantheon, and the god of craftsmen and the forge.) This shop appears to do a lot of business.
The man nods to Qivys, and looks the group of you over. He brings out his saws and tools, and starting with Qivys, clamps the manacle around your hand in a vice, and delicately cuts them off. It takes about thirty minutes to free all five of you.
The smith refuses any payment you might offer (although he's keeping the cut manacles, unless you want them), and then proceeds to escort you out. Unless you have further business (need to buy anything made of metal, for instance?), the group will continue west.
You were directed by the sailors at the Guildhall to continue along this road until you cross the bridge. Then, you've been told to take a left if you want to visit the "Empty Net" tavern; or take a right and then another right to get to the Tower, where the Guard is headquartered. (Kasimir, did you decide your plans?)
A dank fishy smell has begun to compete with the nasty burnt smell in the air. A cold wet mist begins to fall, and the streets are empty except for a few distant moving pedestrian silhouettes.
You catch some views of the dark harbor and more wind-whipped wharves as the road turns sharply to the north. You pass a large, well-lit mansion right on the docks, with a grand entryway leading to a large hall of some kind. You pass a large, dirty, empty market square along the harbor, centered around a dozen or so long stone tables. A couple of mangy dogs sniff under the tables.
You pass a large brick building. A wooden sign above its double doors depicts a net filled with fish, and a small tower rises from the roof. In front of this building is a weatherbeaten platform and gallows, evidently for public executions. You next pass a grungy-looking tavern and inn called "The Snapping Line" – sounds of life emanate, as does the strong smell of rank fish.
Next you cross a wide, ancient stone bridge, where a river mouth opens into the harbor. Small nameless shops and homes cluster on both sides of the bridge. You see signs of light and life within some. A cold, damp breeze eats at you as you cross the bridge. You meet nobody on the road.
You take a right at the crossroads on the other side of the bridge, as directed, and head up the hill to the tower, now clearly visible. You pass one more large shop, dark and closed, with a sign out front, "Kester's Leather Goods."
Finally, you arrive at the tower - some sixty feet tall, with a sizable building at its base. An empty notice board is visible next to the main entrance.
(Let me know if you wanted to stop anywhere along the way, or have any other business, before you enter the tower.)
"I bet this is Dwarven built. Look at the precision in the masonry."Qivys cranes his neck to see the top of the tower. "I guess we're here. Shall we?" He gestures to the main entry.
"Hello! We just wanted to introduce ourselves since we're new here, didn't want there to be any surprises or misunderstandings, and were told to come here. We are the only survivors from the recent shipwreck. We meant to come earlier, but perhaps you can understand just how long the last... well, it's been a long few weeks honestly. It wasn't a very good trip." Red steps forward with a smile that slips into a wry grin at the last sentence.
The guard listens, calls a second guard over, and escorts you through a small hallway into a warm but dark and sparse room. Benches, weapons racks, desks, and a couple of tables fill the sizable chamber. A very large and grim woman in padded leather armor introduces herself as Deputy Commander Clay of the Town Watch. A couple of other guards sit nearby, drinking ale. The first pair of guards mutter something to Clay.
"Yes?" she says to you, with a businesslike tone. "I'm afraid we have no alms to offer. If you decide to stay in Saltmarsh more than thirty days, you'll need to register during office hours. If you're looking for work, we'll need to know your trades. What was the nature of your shipwreck?" She looks bored.
Omen steps forward a bit, straightens his torn and tattered uniform and stands at attention.
"Officer Omen Peregrine of the Guard of the Free City of Greyhawk reporting ma'am."
Omen waits for a moment to let this sink in then speaks:
"I understand that I am far from my home. I and my companions were victims of slavers and the ship we were being transported on broke up during last evenings storm and we are all that remains, that we know, of cargo and slavers."
Deputy Commander Clay sits up a little. Her day just got a little less boring.
"I see." She gestures to one of the ale-drinkers to take some notes.
She begins to ask you a lot of questions. She's clearly interested in the slavers much more than you and your welfare. Who were they? How were each of you abducted? What was the name of the ship? Where were the slavers from? Where were they headed? Who were they working for? What was the nature of the other cargo? Where is the wreck? Can you account for the bodies of the officers? What was their connection to Saltmarsh?
(Obviously you can't answer a lot of this; but do state here if you are forthright, or generally withholding, or if there are specifics you hold back, or anything you want to embellish, or any other spins you want to put on this!)
Omen will continue to stand at attention and try to answer the Captain's questions best he can:
I am not sure who they were but, i believe have associates in the City of Greyhawk. I was abducted while investigating what I thought was a local crime syndicate and its actions and found myself on the ship." "I am not entirely sure how long I or my companions here had been held but i believe it was for some time."
Omen continues:
"Their heading, associates and full cargo I have no knowledge of. I spent my time chained in the ships hold with my companions here." Omen nods towards the others.
"I do remember the name of the Captain of the ship, a human male named Pease." "Also the entire crew were human." Omen adds. "I am not sure if that information means anything to you."
" The ship wrecked northeast of this town and I saw no other survivors but we who stand before you."
Omen pauses for a moment:
"I believe my companions here have their own stories and can add if they observed anything else."
Kasimir pours out a tale of woe for the Deputy Commander: He is the youngest son of a minor merchant, drugged and kidnapped off the street by nefarious fiends. After a few probing questions by the DC, he admits that he had been out with friends and may have had a few too many drinks. But his poor father had been unable to pay the exorbitant ransom (an astute observer might infer that his father had been unwilling to pay) and poor Kasimir was sold to ruthless slavers, to be forced into "menial labor, could you believe?" <<shudder>>. He's certain they were members of the infamous "Black Hand", though of course he didn't actually catch the name of the ship or any crewmembers. "One might have been called Willie, or maybe Billy? A nasty little brute who laughed at me when I told him my biscuit had been stolen!" It is a useless, rambling story of a rich kid's first-ever hardship that quickly loses the Deputy Commander's interest. "Well anyway, Commandant, I've no intention of staying in this -- charming little village -- any longer than necessary. I shall write my father for funds to return home and be out of your hair as soon as possible. In the meantime, if you would be so kind as to recommend proper lodgings, I should be greatly obliged."
Clay is visibly disappointed by the lack of actionable information, and shows little interest in your personal stories. She is clearly focused on information that would help her immediately catch slavers, pirates, and smugglers.
She does guffaw lightly at Kasimir's comments. "I'm not sure you'll find 'proper lodgings' in this town."
"If you learn anything further about the activities of living slavers or smugglers, you know where to find me. Now, if you'll excuse me, the guards will show you out. Good night."
With that she stands, and gives the smallest of smiles.
Qivys nods along with Omen as if agreeing with everything that was said, even though he knew little of the information. He only adds that he was originally captured by kobolds and ended up in the hands of the slavers. Whether sold or traded, he was little more than a commodity.
He turns to face Kas after his rambling has ceased. Whispering in Kas' ear "What do you mean you're leaving as soon as possible lad? The fun's only just about to start." A grin forming across his face, Qivys slaps Kas on the shoulder.
"I guess it's off to the inn? Or back to our glamourous lodgings?"
The two guards who showed you in now escort you out into the darkness. One, a pimply-faced teenaged goon, offers "Dangerous out here. Where you headed? We will escort you." The other, a cross-eyed woman with a touch of orc in her bloodline by the looks of her teeth, says to Qivys helpfully, "If yer lookin' for mining work, Copperlock needs more laborers."
Kasimir gives an indignant little huff as the guards usher his group through the doorway. When the young guardsman offers an escort he snorts, "Oh, now we're feeling helpful, are we? Well you're a day late and a silver short. I'm sure we can find our way back to our wretched barnyard by ourselves. Perhaps you lot should be watching for more slavers." He stomps off in a snit. When the group is out of sight (and earshot) of the guards, he turns to Qivys with a wide grin. "That should keep them off our tails for a bit. As long as they think I'm an irritating twit waiting on Daddy to rescue me, they'll avoid me like the plague. No one wants to deal with a 'strongly worded letter to your superior.' I'm not interesting now, just a hassle to dodge. Now, let's go find some fun, eh? I've heard great things about this 'Empty Net'."
The man is no dwarf, but rather a human. The only things Dwarven here are the anvil, the building itself (probably), and a small shrine to Moradin you spy under the eaves, which appears somewhat neglected. (Moradin is chief deity in the Dwarven pantheon, and the god of craftsmen and the forge.) This shop appears to do a lot of business.
The man nods to Qivys, and looks the group of you over. He brings out his saws and tools, and starting with Qivys, clamps the manacle around your hand in a vice, and delicately cuts them off. It takes about thirty minutes to free all five of you.
The smith refuses any payment you might offer (although he's keeping the cut manacles, unless you want them), and then proceeds to escort you out. Unless you have further business (need to buy anything made of metal, for instance?), the group will continue west.
You were directed by the sailors at the Guildhall to continue along this road until you cross the bridge. Then, you've been told to take a left if you want to visit the "Empty Net" tavern; or take a right and then another right to get to the Tower, where the Guard is headquartered. (Kasimir, did you decide your plans?)
A dank fishy smell has begun to compete with the nasty burnt smell in the air. A cold wet mist begins to fall, and the streets are empty except for a few distant moving pedestrian silhouettes.
(Yes, I was planning on going with the group to the Tower. I wanted to hit the Empty Net after that)
The group moves on.
You catch some views of the dark harbor and more wind-whipped wharves as the road turns sharply to the north. You pass a large, well-lit mansion right on the docks, with a grand entryway leading to a large hall of some kind. You pass a large, dirty, empty market square along the harbor, centered around a dozen or so long stone tables. A couple of mangy dogs sniff under the tables.
You pass a large brick building. A wooden sign above its double doors depicts a net filled with fish, and a small tower rises from the roof. In front of this building is a weatherbeaten platform and gallows, evidently for public executions. You next pass a grungy-looking tavern and inn called "The Snapping Line" – sounds of life emanate, as does the strong smell of rank fish.
Next you cross a wide, ancient stone bridge, where a river mouth opens into the harbor. Small nameless shops and homes cluster on both sides of the bridge. You see signs of light and life within some. A cold, damp breeze eats at you as you cross the bridge. You meet nobody on the road.
You take a right at the crossroads on the other side of the bridge, as directed, and head up the hill to the tower, now clearly visible. You pass one more large shop, dark and closed, with a sign out front, "Kester's Leather Goods."
Finally, you arrive at the tower - some sixty feet tall, with a sizable building at its base. An empty notice board is visible next to the main entrance.
(Let me know if you wanted to stop anywhere along the way, or have any other business, before you enter the tower.)
Omen
Omen just follows along for a bit, taking in the sites and trying to put the path to memory just encase he has come this way again.
Qivys
"I bet this is Dwarven built. Look at the precision in the masonry." Qivys cranes his neck to see the top of the tower. "I guess we're here. Shall we?" He gestures to the main entry.
A guard appears from the tower. He is wearing studded leather armor (marked with a badge bearing a green reed) and armed with a club.
"Yes? What do you need?" he asks, warily.
Red
"Hello! We just wanted to introduce ourselves since we're new here, didn't want there to be any surprises or misunderstandings, and were told to come here. We are the only survivors from the recent shipwreck. We meant to come earlier, but perhaps you can understand just how long the last... well, it's been a long few weeks honestly. It wasn't a very good trip." Red steps forward with a smile that slips into a wry grin at the last sentence.
The guard listens, calls a second guard over, and escorts you through a small hallway into a warm but dark and sparse room. Benches, weapons racks, desks, and a couple of tables fill the sizable chamber. A very large and grim woman in padded leather armor introduces herself as Deputy Commander Clay of the Town Watch. A couple of other guards sit nearby, drinking ale. The first pair of guards mutter something to Clay.
"Yes?" she says to you, with a businesslike tone. "I'm afraid we have no alms to offer. If you decide to stay in Saltmarsh more than thirty days, you'll need to register during office hours. If you're looking for work, we'll need to know your trades. What was the nature of your shipwreck?" She looks bored.
Omen
Omen steps forward a bit, straightens his torn and tattered uniform and stands at attention.
"Officer Omen Peregrine of the Guard of the Free City of Greyhawk reporting ma'am."
Omen waits for a moment to let this sink in then speaks:
"I understand that I am far from my home. I and my companions were victims of slavers and the ship we were being transported on broke up during last evenings storm and we are all that remains, that we know, of cargo and slavers."
Omen pauses for a moment to hear her response.
Deputy Commander Clay sits up a little. Her day just got a little less boring.
"I see." She gestures to one of the ale-drinkers to take some notes.
She begins to ask you a lot of questions. She's clearly interested in the slavers much more than you and your welfare. Who were they? How were each of you abducted? What was the name of the ship? Where were the slavers from? Where were they headed? Who were they working for? What was the nature of the other cargo? Where is the wreck? Can you account for the bodies of the officers? What was their connection to Saltmarsh?
(Obviously you can't answer a lot of this; but do state here if you are forthright, or generally withholding, or if there are specifics you hold back, or anything you want to embellish, or any other spins you want to put on this!)
Omen
Omen will continue to stand at attention and try to answer the Captain's questions best he can:
I am not sure who they were but, i believe have associates in the City of Greyhawk. I was abducted while investigating what I thought was a local crime syndicate and its actions and found myself on the ship." "I am not entirely sure how long I or my companions here had been held but i believe it was for some time."
Omen continues:
"Their heading, associates and full cargo I have no knowledge of. I spent my time chained in the ships hold with my companions here." Omen nods towards the others.
"I do remember the name of the Captain of the ship, a human male named Pease." "Also the entire crew were human." Omen adds. "I am not sure if that information means anything to you."
" The ship wrecked northeast of this town and I saw no other survivors but we who stand before you."
Omen pauses for a moment:
"I believe my companions here have their own stories and can add if they observed anything else."
Kasimir:
Kasimir pours out a tale of woe for the Deputy Commander: He is the youngest son of a minor merchant, drugged and kidnapped off the street by nefarious fiends. After a few probing questions by the DC, he admits that he had been out with friends and may have had a few too many drinks. But his poor father had been unable to pay the exorbitant ransom (an astute observer might infer that his father had been unwilling to pay) and poor Kasimir was sold to ruthless slavers, to be forced into "menial labor, could you believe?" <<shudder>>. He's certain they were members of the infamous "Black Hand", though of course he didn't actually catch the name of the ship or any crewmembers. "One might have been called Willie, or maybe Billy? A nasty little brute who laughed at me when I told him my biscuit had been stolen!" It is a useless, rambling story of a rich kid's first-ever hardship that quickly loses the Deputy Commander's interest. "Well anyway, Commandant, I've no intention of staying in this -- charming little village -- any longer than necessary. I shall write my father for funds to return home and be out of your hair as soon as possible. In the meantime, if you would be so kind as to recommend proper lodgings, I should be greatly obliged."
Clay is visibly disappointed by the lack of actionable information, and shows little interest in your personal stories. She is clearly focused on information that would help her immediately catch slavers, pirates, and smugglers.
She does guffaw lightly at Kasimir's comments. "I'm not sure you'll find 'proper lodgings' in this town."
"If you learn anything further about the activities of living slavers or smugglers, you know where to find me. Now, if you'll excuse me, the guards will show you out. Good night."
With that she stands, and gives the smallest of smiles.
Qivys
Qivys nods along with Omen as if agreeing with everything that was said, even though he knew little of the information. He only adds that he was originally captured by kobolds and ended up in the hands of the slavers. Whether sold or traded, he was little more than a commodity.
He turns to face Kas after his rambling has ceased. Whispering in Kas' ear "What do you mean you're leaving as soon as possible lad? The fun's only just about to start." A grin forming across his face, Qivys slaps Kas on the shoulder.
"I guess it's off to the inn? Or back to our glamourous lodgings?"
The two guards who showed you in now escort you out into the darkness. One, a pimply-faced teenaged goon, offers "Dangerous out here. Where you headed? We will escort you." The other, a cross-eyed woman with a touch of orc in her bloodline by the looks of her teeth, says to Qivys helpfully, "If yer lookin' for mining work, Copperlock needs more laborers."
Omen
Omen is a bit disheartened with the Commander of the Guard but says nothing.
Walking out with the party he remains silent. When the guards speak up he responds:
"Mining has never been my calling but, thank you anyway.:
Omen starts walking with the party and if nothing else he will head back to the Mariner's Guildhall and pay for another evening.
Once he settles in his bunk he sits silent, pondering his next move.
"No one to return to in Greyhawk" he thinks to himself. "Maybe this is an opportunity to do something else in this life."
Kasimir:
Kasimir gives an indignant little huff as the guards usher his group through the doorway. When the young guardsman offers an escort he snorts, "Oh, now we're feeling helpful, are we? Well you're a day late and a silver short. I'm sure we can find our way back to our wretched barnyard by ourselves. Perhaps you lot should be watching for more slavers." He stomps off in a snit. When the group is out of sight (and earshot) of the guards, he turns to Qivys with a wide grin. "That should keep them off our tails for a bit. As long as they think I'm an irritating twit waiting on Daddy to rescue me, they'll avoid me like the plague. No one wants to deal with a 'strongly worded letter to your superior.' I'm not interesting now, just a hassle to dodge. Now, let's go find some fun, eh? I've heard great things about this 'Empty Net'."
Kasimir manages to ditch the pair of guards, who seem a little disappointed to be so quickly dismissed.
You wander back by the leather goods store and down to the bridge.
It's about 9 pm at this point. Where to? The Mariners' Guildhall? The 'Empty Net'? Or elsewhere?