The crew continues to row, and Abigail keeps her paws on the wheel. Turning to make sure the wind stays. The floating chain continuing it's fight with Tarak. His sword taking out another few links but it still maintains itself in the air. It launches itself at the paladin wrapping around his blade as it goes inert. The serrated sides ceasing and turning back to now a mostly broken series of links. Hanging down.
The anchor in one final attempt smashes down onto Morgan (13). It attempts to wrap around them once again, a last ditch effort to grapple and launch someone over the side. But as it begins to wrap around Morgan, the warlock finds a way to get out before it too seems to fall limp. The anchor falling down by their feet.
As the Windhook continues to sail away, the faint sight of Shatter swimming over to the shore and pulling themself up to the shore off in the distance. Soaring above, Wilson, heading back to the towns. His own mission still not finished; but seeming to be keeping an eye on the sky to assist in your escape.
The Windhook continues to move down the river, around the twists and turns.
Rollo, looking out over the horizon sighs. "We've got to get this job done." His fingers wrap on the railing. "Abigail, get us a course. We've got to get out of Unity and to Ossus. I doubt these Loxodon folk will let us sail out of here."
He turns and begins to pace a bit. "Faster we get there, faster we can.." his eyes glance back to where you all just came from. "He may be dead...." his voice trails off.
Glancing at the maps, Abigail notices quite a few different routes that the boat could take.
Sail out to Sea - then sail over to Ossus - Head Up River to the Tri-Cities ((This route is the fastest out of Unity, but you'll have to be along the coasts))
Sail along the River Network from Unity to Ossus - Direct Path ((This route will speed you out of Unity, but provides little cover if Shatter is still hunting you by the air))
Sail along the River Network from Unity to Ossus - Obscure Path ((This route will keep you in Loxodon territory longer, but, may provide cover and a chance to loose anyone pursing you))
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Abigail looks at the state of the ship, its damaged sail, creaking hull, and chipped oars. Then she looks at the state of the crew, a missing first mate, wounded captain, corrupted paladin, and more than one set of exhausted eyes...
"If we head for the coast, we can get complete this mission faster... but... if we run into inclement weather, it could strain the ship. If we try to sneak out of Unity, maybe we lose Shatter, but we might put the underlying mission in jeopardy. A direct route would let Shatter catch up to us... and of the two, I think I would prefer to take on the Ashgard over Shatter. Either way, a conflict with the Ashgard or Shatter could bring harm to the ship; Shatter with his giant bird and manipulation of the ship's ropes, and the Ashgard with their elemental monstrosities and spells." Abigail pauses her thoughts and lifts her head up to the sky to take a deep breath, "I miss the smell and sting of salt. If I am going to die, no better place than out at sea." Then, as if to aid in justifying her decision, "Plus, the captain said the faster we get there..."
"Alright, Captain, let's get this mission over with!" Abigail charts a course out to sea and along the coastline. (Navigator's Tools: 20)
Rollo gives a nod as Abigail plots the course. Leading the Windhook along the rivers of Unity, attempting to get away from their pursuers.
"Very well. You stay on the helm. Morgan, get to the mast and make sure we're not being followed. Sir Tarak, begin doing what you can to get us repaired. Lafetha, I could use your knowledge of the wilderness to make sure we won't be getting caught in any..."
The voices and orders continue to come out from Rollo as the Windhook sails off into the distance
The Farlands - The Dust Plains
The Widowpeak Mountains seem to hover in the skyline. A looming, oppressive mass of rock, snow, and ice - even at this time of year. Pockets of green fill the middle bands; slightly hazy from the arid dust that the time of year brings to the Farlands. A expanse of sparse vegetation and quick movements. A few little understood Centaurian herds roaming between the few wild animals that plot along and move with the spring and summer dust storms.
Two horses ride side by side, the clanking of camping gear ratting around a bit. Eshe's eyes keep looking around, from the sky to the horizon. "I certainly don't like being back here," he says - hands stroking down his fully grown dwarven beard. His hair tied into small braids that are reminiscent of his more textured hair. "But it certainly feels like coming home."
Sim pulls back the hood of his traveler's cloak. The rabid buzzing of insect-like wings echoing from the large hump on his back. "Kind of sick that way." He pats the horse a bit as it gives a huff. A present from when he stopped by the Jacobsen farmstead; two horses and some supplies for him to head back out here. Find his friend. "But I just have to..."
"There!" Eshe interrupts again. Two finger pointing out to the Widowpeaks. The dust parting for just a moment to show a growing storm. Growing in the valley that was between two peaks. "See it? Last night it was nothing but flashes. Like lightning but, more reddish." He keeps his eyes trained on it while the dust begins to pick back up. "What do you reckon it is?"
Sim looks on, pulling a scarf up and over his nose. "Forbidden Fruit."
Free City State of Iron Port
((You all get a long rest))
The route Abigail navigated you all through has kept many of you up countless nights on watch duty, especially while escaping the Loxodon controlled aspect of unity. Heading towards the ocean was certainly the right call; as the interception groups of Battle Wagons and others never were able to catch up. The land shifting and eventually reaching the thick sprouting forests of the lands more towards the mid-north of Unity. Eventually the woodland changes; teams and tents of people having cleared the timber for production. Expansive farmlands taking over the cleared farms and feeding back to the lone city that is approaching rather fast.
Iron Port
One of the many Free States that make up Unity, Iron Port got its name in reverence to the Iron Queen, rather than any direct source of iron. At least, that's what most say about it. The sounds of industry ring high into the air as you all approach. The locals here known quite well for their shipyard and rather small leviathan hunting fleet compared to the other countries. Even from this distance, sections of the city stand out. The large manmade hills that are above the flood plains. Shops, homes, and some roads built on stilts to adjust to the flooding the area is prone to. Many of the homes are much smaller than some would expect; the majority of the population that makes up Iron Port being Halfling, Gnome, and Goblin. (History to know more)
Rollo gives out a whistle while at the helm, moving towards the series of docks. Its late, or early, depending on how someone considers just before sunrise. The lights of the city flashing towards you all, while Rollo waves a lantern in return.
"Get up folks, we've got some taxes to pay to cross and likely people to bribe. And possibly a red letter or two to deliver."
As the Windhook begins to make its way towards the docks, dozens of other ships are also there. 3-Mast Sailing Ships. Wreckers (a multi-mast ship designed to hunt leviathans). Smaller river and fishing boats, all taking up space.
Ocean spray and the smell of fish and salt hang heavily here along the docks. Heading out towards the darkness that is the open sea. As you all begin to stir awake (or assist in getting the boat docked), Abigail, there's one particular boat that catches your eye. An older boat. One that could pass for a Wrecker. But you know better. You know that its all a facade. That's the boat which nearly killed you...
There isn't much else you know beyond the basics of the city.
History 20
This Port City is ruled by an Elected Governor through a extensive ranked choice vote by the citizens of the city. They serve the city until the citizens reach a majority for a recall, and their election cycle begins anew. There is some kind of inner cabinet that works with the elected officials, but that tidbit of knowledge escapes you. It does provide for many wild stories and songs about the Shady Cabinet. One of the most famous families of the area is the Thrimbru; head of the Ironwood Shipyard. The current head being OreVel Thrimbru. It's rather well known that the Ironwood Shipyard makes excellent craft. Some rumors are due to the natural lumber that's nearby being of better strength, some say it's feats of engineering, and competitors claim of witchcraft and alchemy.
One of the most mysterious citzens of Iron Port is the Fantasia. A rumored high end escort for clients with exquisite taste and is able to cater to the highest fantasies. They are found at the rather extravagant Hotel Fantasia, which is quite the place in its own right.
What isn't always talked about is how much Iron Port turns a blind eye and is happy to buy all sorts of illegal things; a haven on the continent for those needing a place of refuge or to offload stolen goods. It is rumored that many a warehouse here is owned by privateers and their sponsors.
Religion <10
A true and proper Temple of The Faith is closer to the city center of Iron Port. But you don't remember who may be in charge at the moment, or what assistance they may have outside the norm. Certainly couldn't hurt to take a bit of time and go ask.
Morgan hops off the ship, first they try to find a blacksmith/weapons vendor, they want to sell a crowbar ((just figured out I've had two this whole time) along with the palm pistol and the bullets, trying to get another shield and a dagger. Then they are going to see what this place has in terms of libraries, scholars, specifically for curing curses.
Turning toward Lafetha, Abigail growls and points over toward the Seadragon's Bane. "Do you see that ship over there? The captain and crew of that ship are some of the most ruthless pirates sailing the seas. You may have never heard of him before, because he doesn't like to leave survivors, but his name is Blackscale... and he will gut you as soon as look at you, if it tickles his fancy." Turning back to the side of the ship to furiously glare at the Seafragon's Bane, Abigail adds, "And he does not respect the pirate code. It was not long after an informal meeting between Blackscale and Syrabina regarding a change she wanted to make to the code, that he hunted us down and murdered us all." Abigail pauses, "Well, almost all of us."
A sudden realization crosses over Abigail's face. "$h!t. If he finds out I am still living, he may attempt to murder us all. I may not have been very high in the ranks of pirates, but there were a few of his crew that would recognize my name." Glancing over at Morgan before lowering her voice and leaning in so that only Lafetha can hear her, "They always seems to look me up when we were share port anyway..."
Abigail stands upright and turns to head downstairs, "I need information, I could use some additional equipment... But now, I also need to stay unnoticed. This will not be an easy venture to say the least." She disappears into the hull to retrieve some things from her footlocker. As she is searching around, her hand pauses over a small wooden figure of herself. She picks it up and looks at it for a moment, then her eyes shift over to the large sword strapped to the side of her bunk. "One of these days, you are going to need to start letting people back in... You cannot do this alone," she thinks to herself.
Finding the flask she was looking for, she slips it into her pack before going over and picking up the hefty sword. "I will have my revenge," she growls internally.
Coming back up she asks Rollo, "Permission to disembark, Captain?"
Tarak looks out at the Iron Port. Knowing they do not have a lot of time but also knowing he needs to know what to do with the bracer. He gathers his gear and tells the Captain “If I have your leave I’d like to go to the temple and meditate.”
Assuming Rollo doesn’t deny him then he will head in to town and to the temple. When he arrives he will meditate for a bit and then seek an audience with whoever is in charge.
Rollo gives a nod to the crew as they move around.
"It'll take me a bit to get everything done. Let's meet back here this time tomorrow. Give everyone a chance to get some rest before we set to sea," he glances out at the pre-dawn sky. The old world above swirling away. "And if any Loxodon Forces or Flying bounty hunters come after us, we need to get back here and slip away as quick as possible."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Abigail goes out into the city, her hood up and cloak wrapped around her as she carefully moves from place to place - eyes darn here and there, looking for any signs of Blackscale or his crew. She eventually makes her way to the Iron Merchants. Once there, she asks to see Sheft Criag in order to inquire after a buyer for a Potion of Force Resistance and, "a magical key that went to some magical box... I lost the box, but you never know what sort of collectors are out there."
Before leaving, she asks one more thing of the goblin, "Also, I am looking for something to help take down or protect me from a demon. Could be a weapon or trinket, but if it is a weapon - I need it to be something that is a little lighter and more finesse oriented than this large thing." Abigail shrugs her shoulder to indicated the large sword strapped to her back. "I am going to try to find a contact of mine over by the Hotel Fantasia, and should be back by the evening if you have or know of anyone that might be selling something."
She leaves the shop and heads toward the Hotel Fantasia. It takes a little while, but she eventually spots her noctis contact, Blane Vol. Once Abigail is able to make contact she asks, "I need information on Captain Blackscale. Specifically, what he has been up to over the last year or so and if anyone knows what his current agenda is... The more information on current plans the better."
Going to throw in just a bunch of stuff, in case any thing is needed - not sure how helpful the contacts are or anything like that, so put in some additional roles there as well.
If needed for keeping a low profile: Perception (10), Stealth (19), and Deception (9)
In order to help dig up information on what Blackscale has been up to since last I encountered him / any know plans or schemes he might be up to [Low Class Rogue Contact] + Investigation (26)
In order to fence the Potion of Force Resistance / see what sort of magical items or weapons are available [Middle Class Merchant Contact] + Persuasion (22)
You head out into the city, remembering some of your time here from previous ventures. The alleyways crushingly small for someone of your size, having to duck and squeeze past areas to get from spot to spot in keeping a lower profile and not moving along the wide streets of the docks. Eventually you reach the backside of the Iron Merchants. While it's still early, you clearly remember the right combination of knocks on the door - a few flecks of rust from corrosion of the salt air. Sheft is fairly recognizable. A red hued goblin with a nose that's been broken one too many times. The pupil of one eye seemingly split from a cataract surgery gone wrong.
In several boxes and chests are various potions and small trinkets of different colors. He appears to be rather well stocked in tinctures and tonics, including some of the healing variety. ((He has most uncommon potions for sale, for 400. And 70 for a standard healing potion))
"Trinkets and baubles are always interesting but carry the risk of just sitting around for years. But this pot'in is a easy one. For both, I could give a easy sell of 200 for both. 150 for the potion, and 50 for the key since we don't know if it'll do much yet Far better than you'll get elsewhere."
In talking about finding something else he rubs his nose. Stubby digits flicking the tip a bit. "I can get you in with The Court. If you give me a week, I can tap them for you for about 200. If it's a rush, I can arrange it around sundown for 600. Not promising you they have anything of worth. But it's the best shot in short notice. They'd be the ones to have anything truly special."
He turns and moves to rummage along the walls. Flipping open false parts of the wall to look over some wears while he continues to speak. "I guess the Temple of the Faith could have something too. But they don't generally just give out anything in their collection. He pulls out three different items as well, laying them down on the table:
The first is a gemstone, with some kind of arcane etching. "Met a witch once who said this gave their blade some kind of power. The second is a orb, about the size of a tennis ball, inside three candle-like-flames dance but emit no light. "Poor soul sold this to me, said it saved his life from a fire on a boat." The third is a finely crafted two-sided scimitar like weapon. "This came to me after a duel. The winner didn't want evidence lying around."
"Each is 100. Or trade what you're giving for two."
Outside the Hotel Fantasia you meet up with Blane Vol. Vol being a last name similar to "the Bastard." If you ever need info, finding a Vol is certainly considered one of the best options. The rather well dressed Noctis sits outside the hotel. The bitter smell of some harsh liquor hovering around him, but his eyes do appear to be quite clear. You find him at about sunrise, having taken the time to sneak around in addition to doing your due diligence at the Iron Merchants.
"Blackscales? You've both brave and stupid to ask," the figure puts his arm around Abigail as they do a bit of a walk and talk as not to draw suspicion. "From my understanding many things have been afoot for the moment. Let me start with the immediate. Some say that Blackscales has a friendly standing appointment at this hotel right here. I'd love to say that the terror of the sea is out here for some dangerous or secret deed. But alas, repairs and resupply. And apparently spending some time doing R&R away from the prying eyes of the open ocean."
The Vol glances around a bit as he leads you up a set of stairs leading to a higher level of the docks. "But when not on land, Blackscales is making a handful of new allies. Some newer vessels have been flying the pirate flag, and rumor has it that in these past six months some of Blackscales more talented crew have moved up to become a Captain. Now, I'm not one to say that anyone is dreaming of being an Admiral, but if I was to want more power I would certainly be consolidating the loyal around me. Wouldn't you?"
He stops for a minute, a loud whistle blowing from the shipyard. The sign for the morning crews to begin their work. "Not everyone is happy with this. And I think some rather wealthy patrons who have their own allies may be attempting something as well out at sea and the land just beyond the edge of the Kingdoms. Certainly feels like sides are slowly amassing captains and guns." Almost as if on que, a well dressed Gnome passes by about 50 feet away. Two bodyguards flanking her on their side, as they head towards the shipyard. The Vol gives a bit of a nod, tipping the hat, after finishing answering what questions Abigail has and slipping back into the slowly waking city.
Tarak...
The temple sits in the older part of the town. Smaller buildings built all around - clearly for those that came and settled here. Old gain silos turned now into apartments. Crammed homes build nearly on top of each other with narrow pathways and walkways. This old city center is clearly for the smaller folk that build here originally, as you have to squish through between buildings and along roads that no longer work as a true main road; but the build up and industry over time has made that impossible.
The Temple itself was once perhaps just a large home. Then added on. And added on again. And then a bit further. It's now a taller building in this area; rivaling some of the grain silos turned homes. The older parts likely have been converted to storage and homes for those that live here.
Stairs lead up to a painted copper door; painted to keep them from corroding or turning green in the air. They're well maintained, swinging open with barely a squeak. The narthex chamber is warm; spots for anyone to come and get a break from a storm or the cold. Writing along a archway leading to the central chamber reads a classic saying:
Create with the mind, and build with your hands. Learn to be one with the world. Not the master of it.
A saying of the Order of Forge.
The central nave and isles form a circular chamber. In the center on a raised dais is the holy tome. The thick and heavy book laid out in the open. Some Abbots currently tend to the few that are here; for before dawn prayers or simply finding a place to sleep. With a fishing community, it's likely the services here start quite early. You would assume that a temple of this size has a contingent of knights and soldiers. Possibly another paladin or two, to act on behalf of The Faith in situations that arise. Whoever the High Priest is here may in fact also be one who has shown themself to be blessed by the Iron Queen herself.
Several other doors lead elsewhere. Likely the older buildings you saw earlier, and likely a basement. You did ascend stairs to get to this 'ground floor.'
The Abbots leave you alone to morning prayer. One eventually coming by with a warm bowl of soup and some fresh local tea, placing it down beside you on a small tray. After some time, those in training give some early sermons; blessings and guidance for those starting their days or heading out to sea.
After a bit of time, the High Priest of the Temple goes approach. A older woman dark skinned Rana Woman who's hair has long since lost it's color and tiny stray hairs grace the tip of her chin. The familiar white and green trimmed robes of the faith fall about her gracefully. Nails has black streaks running through them; likely from working a life breathing on fumes of the forge for decades.
"Brother, how may we be in service to one another today?"
Morgan...
You spend a little bit of time looking around before the shops open. The rows and alleyways lead to all sorts of standard affairs; blacksmiths, resuppliers, those who live on the sea. It's created quite the busy little port where it's far easier to find someone to sell off a shield or a weapon. In the window of a general store, they have a fairly well done selection of knives on display.
Once the stores open, they'll easily buy the Palm Pistol & Ammo for 25 gold, and the Crowbar for 8 silver. A standard shield runs 12 gold, and dagger for 3 gold. ((Can always use some social tactics to try and haggle))
There is a bit of a well-to-do establishment that certainly seems to have some books and likely upper class patrons inside. Judging from the window looking in. It's surprisingly a bit busy with people coming and getting ready as they seem to walk around. Locals seem to call the place as the Den of the Helpers. And while you normally have to be a member, monetary donations do enable people to go inside. (10 gold, per 4 hours)
Tucked back behind some buildings, there is a old fortune teller who people do swear by. Could very well be a parlor trick.
Looking up towards the older parts of the city, the bells of the temple ring out. While the Faith have their issues with magic users; they normally are the ones who keep knowledge and records that may be a help as well.
Tarak remains in deep in meditation throughout the day barely registering the comings and goings around him but always aware. When the food is brought he accepts it with a small nod of his head. The soup is filling and surprisingly tasty, just the right amount of spice and flavor. He slides the empty bowl back on to the tray and then continues his prayers. Finally a couple hours later he feels “done” there is no other word to describe it he is just done. He opens his eyes as the High Priestess enters the room.
"Brother, how may we be in service to one another today?" She asks. How indeed he muses thinking over how comforting and supportive the feeling is of being around those who serve the Faith. Not that the crew hasn’t grown on him. They have proven themselves to be good people even if a bit...off course. The navigation joke makes him chuckle.
“Priestess I come seeking guidance. A shadow is growing in my mind. A shadow of a great evil that I feel wants destroy anything it can not subjugate. I can not help but think that this bracer which has come into my guarding is somehow involved and there are those who desperately seek to attain it. I can not remove it as it is currently bound to me but I had hoped you could proved direction to where it could be safely removed and secured. The Demon who hunts me will stop at nothing to get it. Where can I go?”
"I will take the scimitar and arcane stone... If a witch says it gave her weapon powers, then maybe it will help kill off a demon." Abigail hands over the potion and key.
"So, he might be making a play to become a majority stakeholder in the pirate council? Or does he want to just take over the waters and islands out right?" To Blane, regarding the halfling with the bodyguards, "Who is that?"
Shatter: (Initiative 9)
Swim (Legendary)
Swim (Legendary)
Keep (Action)
Swimming (Movement)
Flying Chain (Initiative 9)
Attacks Tarak
Attack: 17 Damage: 10
If Hit - Grappled (DC 14)
Anchor (Initiative 9)
Attacks (Whoever is sitting // Morgan Primary, or Lafetha Secondary)
Attack: 15 Damage: 12
If Hit - Grappled (DC14)
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
Lafetha continues to row (her arms off, but not really)
Morgan acrobatics check 15
Round 3 (Combat Ends)
The crew continues to row, and Abigail keeps her paws on the wheel. Turning to make sure the wind stays. The floating chain continuing it's fight with Tarak. His sword taking out another few links but it still maintains itself in the air. It launches itself at the paladin wrapping around his blade as it goes inert. The serrated sides ceasing and turning back to now a mostly broken series of links. Hanging down.
The anchor in one final attempt smashes down onto Morgan (13). It attempts to wrap around them once again, a last ditch effort to grapple and launch someone over the side. But as it begins to wrap around Morgan, the warlock finds a way to get out before it too seems to fall limp. The anchor falling down by their feet.
As the Windhook continues to sail away, the faint sight of Shatter swimming over to the shore and pulling themself up to the shore off in the distance. Soaring above, Wilson, heading back to the towns. His own mission still not finished; but seeming to be keeping an eye on the sky to assist in your escape.
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
The Windhook continues to move down the river, around the twists and turns.
Rollo, looking out over the horizon sighs. "We've got to get this job done." His fingers wrap on the railing. "Abigail, get us a course. We've got to get out of Unity and to Ossus. I doubt these Loxodon folk will let us sail out of here."
He turns and begins to pace a bit. "Faster we get there, faster we can.." his eyes glance back to where you all just came from. "He may be dead...." his voice trails off.
Glancing at the maps, Abigail notices quite a few different routes that the boat could take.
Sail out to Sea - then sail over to Ossus - Head Up River to the Tri-Cities
((This route is the fastest out of Unity, but you'll have to be along the coasts))
Sail along the River Network from Unity to Ossus - Direct Path
((This route will speed you out of Unity, but provides little cover if Shatter is still hunting you by the air))
Sail along the River Network from Unity to Ossus - Obscure Path
((This route will keep you in Loxodon territory longer, but, may provide cover and a chance to loose anyone pursing you))
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
Abigail looks at the state of the ship, its damaged sail, creaking hull, and chipped oars. Then she looks at the state of the crew, a missing first mate, wounded captain, corrupted paladin, and more than one set of exhausted eyes...
"If we head for the coast, we can get complete this mission faster... but... if we run into inclement weather, it could strain the ship. If we try to sneak out of Unity, maybe we lose Shatter, but we might put the underlying mission in jeopardy. A direct route would let Shatter catch up to us... and of the two, I think I would prefer to take on the Ashgard over Shatter. Either way, a conflict with the Ashgard or Shatter could bring harm to the ship; Shatter with his giant bird and manipulation of the ship's ropes, and the Ashgard with their elemental monstrosities and spells." Abigail pauses her thoughts and lifts her head up to the sky to take a deep breath, "I miss the smell and sting of salt. If I am going to die, no better place than out at sea." Then, as if to aid in justifying her decision, "Plus, the captain said the faster we get there..."
"Alright, Captain, let's get this mission over with!" Abigail charts a course out to sea and along the coastline. (Navigator's Tools: 20)
Rollo gives a nod as Abigail plots the course. Leading the Windhook along the rivers of Unity, attempting to get away from their pursuers.
"Very well. You stay on the helm. Morgan, get to the mast and make sure we're not being followed. Sir Tarak, begin doing what you can to get us repaired. Lafetha, I could use your knowledge of the wilderness to make sure we won't be getting caught in any..."
The voices and orders continue to come out from Rollo as the Windhook sails off into the distance
The Farlands - The Dust Plains
The Widowpeak Mountains seem to hover in the skyline. A looming, oppressive mass of rock, snow, and ice - even at this time of year. Pockets of green fill the middle bands; slightly hazy from the arid dust that the time of year brings to the Farlands. A expanse of sparse vegetation and quick movements. A few little understood Centaurian herds roaming between the few wild animals that plot along and move with the spring and summer dust storms.
Two horses ride side by side, the clanking of camping gear ratting around a bit. Eshe's eyes keep looking around, from the sky to the horizon. "I certainly don't like being back here," he says - hands stroking down his fully grown dwarven beard. His hair tied into small braids that are reminiscent of his more textured hair. "But it certainly feels like coming home."
Sim pulls back the hood of his traveler's cloak. The rabid buzzing of insect-like wings echoing from the large hump on his back. "Kind of sick that way." He pats the horse a bit as it gives a huff. A present from when he stopped by the Jacobsen farmstead; two horses and some supplies for him to head back out here. Find his friend. "But I just have to..."
"There!" Eshe interrupts again. Two finger pointing out to the Widowpeaks. The dust parting for just a moment to show a growing storm. Growing in the valley that was between two peaks. "See it? Last night it was nothing but flashes. Like lightning but, more reddish." He keeps his eyes trained on it while the dust begins to pick back up. "What do you reckon it is?"
Sim looks on, pulling a scarf up and over his nose. "Forbidden Fruit."
Free City State of Iron Port
((You all get a long rest))
The route Abigail navigated you all through has kept many of you up countless nights on watch duty, especially while escaping the Loxodon controlled aspect of unity. Heading towards the ocean was certainly the right call; as the interception groups of Battle Wagons and others never were able to catch up. The land shifting and eventually reaching the thick sprouting forests of the lands more towards the mid-north of Unity. Eventually the woodland changes; teams and tents of people having cleared the timber for production. Expansive farmlands taking over the cleared farms and feeding back to the lone city that is approaching rather fast.
Iron Port
One of the many Free States that make up Unity, Iron Port got its name in reverence to the Iron Queen, rather than any direct source of iron. At least, that's what most say about it. The sounds of industry ring high into the air as you all approach. The locals here known quite well for their shipyard and rather small leviathan hunting fleet compared to the other countries. Even from this distance, sections of the city stand out. The large manmade hills that are above the flood plains. Shops, homes, and some roads built on stilts to adjust to the flooding the area is prone to. Many of the homes are much smaller than some would expect; the majority of the population that makes up Iron Port being Halfling, Gnome, and Goblin. (History to know more)
Rollo gives out a whistle while at the helm, moving towards the series of docks. Its late, or early, depending on how someone considers just before sunrise. The lights of the city flashing towards you all, while Rollo waves a lantern in return.
"Get up folks, we've got some taxes to pay to cross and likely people to bribe. And possibly a red letter or two to deliver."
As the Windhook begins to make its way towards the docks, dozens of other ships are also there. 3-Mast Sailing Ships. Wreckers (a multi-mast ship designed to hunt leviathans). Smaller river and fishing boats, all taking up space.
Ocean spray and the smell of fish and salt hang heavily here along the docks. Heading out towards the darkness that is the open sea. As you all begin to stir awake (or assist in getting the boat docked), Abigail, there's one particular boat that catches your eye. An older boat. One that could pass for a Wrecker. But you know better. You know that its all a facade. That's the boat which nearly killed you...
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
History: 20
Abigail grips the starboard rail and grits her teeth, her knuckles going white as her claws slowly dig into the wood.
History 0
Religion 19 informational roll for any info on the presence of the faith. Could they assist me with the bracer? where should I take it? Etc...
History <10
There isn't much else you know beyond the basics of the city.
History 20
This Port City is ruled by an Elected Governor through a extensive ranked choice vote by the citizens of the city. They serve the city until the citizens reach a majority for a recall, and their election cycle begins anew. There is some kind of inner cabinet that works with the elected officials, but that tidbit of knowledge escapes you. It does provide for many wild stories and songs about the Shady Cabinet. One of the most famous families of the area is the Thrimbru; head of the Ironwood Shipyard. The current head being OreVel Thrimbru. It's rather well known that the Ironwood Shipyard makes excellent craft. Some rumors are due to the natural lumber that's nearby being of better strength, some say it's feats of engineering, and competitors claim of witchcraft and alchemy.
One of the most mysterious citzens of Iron Port is the Fantasia. A rumored high end escort for clients with exquisite taste and is able to cater to the highest fantasies. They are found at the rather extravagant Hotel Fantasia, which is quite the place in its own right.
What isn't always talked about is how much Iron Port turns a blind eye and is happy to buy all sorts of illegal things; a haven on the continent for those needing a place of refuge or to offload stolen goods. It is rumored that many a warehouse here is owned by privateers and their sponsors.
Religion <10
A true and proper Temple of The Faith is closer to the city center of Iron Port. But you don't remember who may be in charge at the moment, or what assistance they may have outside the norm. Certainly couldn't hurt to take a bit of time and go ask.
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
history 24
Laftetha notices Abigail's tense stature, and asks her what the deal is.
Morgan hops off the ship, first they try to find a blacksmith/weapons vendor, they want to sell a crowbar ((just figured out I've had two this whole time) along with the palm pistol and the bullets, trying to get another shield and a dagger. Then they are going to see what this place has in terms of libraries, scholars, specifically for curing curses.
Turning toward Lafetha, Abigail growls and points over toward the Seadragon's Bane. "Do you see that ship over there? The captain and crew of that ship are some of the most ruthless pirates sailing the seas. You may have never heard of him before, because he doesn't like to leave survivors, but his name is Blackscale... and he will gut you as soon as look at you, if it tickles his fancy." Turning back to the side of the ship to furiously glare at the Seafragon's Bane, Abigail adds, "And he does not respect the pirate code. It was not long after an informal meeting between Blackscale and Syrabina regarding a change she wanted to make to the code, that he hunted us down and murdered us all." Abigail pauses, "Well, almost all of us."
A sudden realization crosses over Abigail's face. "$h!t. If he finds out I am still living, he may attempt to murder us all. I may not have been very high in the ranks of pirates, but there were a few of his crew that would recognize my name." Glancing over at Morgan before lowering her voice and leaning in so that only Lafetha can hear her, "They always seems to look me up when we were share port anyway..."
Abigail stands upright and turns to head downstairs, "I need information, I could use some additional equipment... But now, I also need to stay unnoticed. This will not be an easy venture to say the least." She disappears into the hull to retrieve some things from her footlocker. As she is searching around, her hand pauses over a small wooden figure of herself. She picks it up and looks at it for a moment, then her eyes shift over to the large sword strapped to the side of her bunk. "One of these days, you are going to need to start letting people back in... You cannot do this alone," she thinks to herself.
Finding the flask she was looking for, she slips it into her pack before going over and picking up the hefty sword. "I will have my revenge," she growls internally.
Coming back up she asks Rollo, "Permission to disembark, Captain?"
Tarak looks out at the Iron Port. Knowing they do not have a lot of time but also knowing he needs to know what to do with the bracer. He gathers his gear and tells the Captain “If I have your leave I’d like to go to the temple and meditate.”
Assuming Rollo doesn’t deny him then he will head in to town and to the temple. When he arrives he will meditate for a bit and then seek an audience with whoever is in charge.
Rollo gives a nod to the crew as they move around.
"It'll take me a bit to get everything done. Let's meet back here this time tomorrow. Give everyone a chance to get some rest before we set to sea," he glances out at the pre-dawn sky. The old world above swirling away. "And if any Loxodon Forces or Flying bounty hunters come after us, we need to get back here and slip away as quick as possible."
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
"Right, well stay safe, and stay hidden."
Laftetha follows Morgan to find some potions
Abigail goes out into the city, her hood up and cloak wrapped around her as she carefully moves from place to place - eyes darn here and there, looking for any signs of Blackscale or his crew. She eventually makes her way to the Iron Merchants. Once there, she asks to see Sheft Criag in order to inquire after a buyer for a Potion of Force Resistance and, "a magical key that went to some magical box... I lost the box, but you never know what sort of collectors are out there."
Before leaving, she asks one more thing of the goblin, "Also, I am looking for something to help take down or protect me from a demon. Could be a weapon or trinket, but if it is a weapon - I need it to be something that is a little lighter and more finesse oriented than this large thing." Abigail shrugs her shoulder to indicated the large sword strapped to her back. "I am going to try to find a contact of mine over by the Hotel Fantasia, and should be back by the evening if you have or know of anyone that might be selling something."
She leaves the shop and heads toward the Hotel Fantasia. It takes a little while, but she eventually spots her noctis contact, Blane Vol. Once Abigail is able to make contact she asks, "I need information on Captain Blackscale. Specifically, what he has been up to over the last year or so and if anyone knows what his current agenda is... The more information on current plans the better."
Going to throw in just a bunch of stuff, in case any thing is needed - not sure how helpful the contacts are or anything like that, so put in some additional roles there as well.
If needed for keeping a low profile: Perception (10), Stealth (19), and Deception (9)
In order to help dig up information on what Blackscale has been up to since last I encountered him / any know plans or schemes he might be up to [Low Class Rogue Contact] + Investigation (26)
In order to fence the Potion of Force Resistance / see what sort of magical items or weapons are available [Middle Class Merchant Contact] + Persuasion (22)
Abigail (& Lafetha)...
You head out into the city, remembering some of your time here from previous ventures. The alleyways crushingly small for someone of your size, having to duck and squeeze past areas to get from spot to spot in keeping a lower profile and not moving along the wide streets of the docks. Eventually you reach the backside of the Iron Merchants. While it's still early, you clearly remember the right combination of knocks on the door - a few flecks of rust from corrosion of the salt air. Sheft is fairly recognizable. A red hued goblin with a nose that's been broken one too many times. The pupil of one eye seemingly split from a cataract surgery gone wrong.
In several boxes and chests are various potions and small trinkets of different colors. He appears to be rather well stocked in tinctures and tonics, including some of the healing variety. ((He has most uncommon potions for sale, for 400. And 70 for a standard healing potion))
"Trinkets and baubles are always interesting but carry the risk of just sitting around for years. But this pot'in is a easy one. For both, I could give a easy sell of 200 for both. 150 for the potion, and 50 for the key since we don't know if it'll do much yet Far better than you'll get elsewhere."
In talking about finding something else he rubs his nose. Stubby digits flicking the tip a bit. "I can get you in with The Court. If you give me a week, I can tap them for you for about 200. If it's a rush, I can arrange it around sundown for 600. Not promising you they have anything of worth. But it's the best shot in short notice. They'd be the ones to have anything truly special."
He turns and moves to rummage along the walls. Flipping open false parts of the wall to look over some wears while he continues to speak. "I guess the Temple of the Faith could have something too. But they don't generally just give out anything in their collection. He pulls out three different items as well, laying them down on the table:
The first is a gemstone, with some kind of arcane etching. "Met a witch once who said this gave their blade some kind of power.
The second is a orb, about the size of a tennis ball, inside three candle-like-flames dance but emit no light. "Poor soul sold this to me, said it saved his life from a fire on a boat."
The third is a finely crafted two-sided scimitar like weapon. "This came to me after a duel. The winner didn't want evidence lying around."
"Each is 100. Or trade what you're giving for two."
Outside the Hotel Fantasia you meet up with Blane Vol. Vol being a last name similar to "the Bastard." If you ever need info, finding a Vol is certainly considered one of the best options. The rather well dressed Noctis sits outside the hotel. The bitter smell of some harsh liquor hovering around him, but his eyes do appear to be quite clear. You find him at about sunrise, having taken the time to sneak around in addition to doing your due diligence at the Iron Merchants.
"Blackscales? You've both brave and stupid to ask," the figure puts his arm around Abigail as they do a bit of a walk and talk as not to draw suspicion. "From my understanding many things have been afoot for the moment. Let me start with the immediate. Some say that Blackscales has a friendly standing appointment at this hotel right here. I'd love to say that the terror of the sea is out here for some dangerous or secret deed. But alas, repairs and resupply. And apparently spending some time doing R&R away from the prying eyes of the open ocean."
The Vol glances around a bit as he leads you up a set of stairs leading to a higher level of the docks. "But when not on land, Blackscales is making a handful of new allies. Some newer vessels have been flying the pirate flag, and rumor has it that in these past six months some of Blackscales more talented crew have moved up to become a Captain. Now, I'm not one to say that anyone is dreaming of being an Admiral, but if I was to want more power I would certainly be consolidating the loyal around me. Wouldn't you?"
He stops for a minute, a loud whistle blowing from the shipyard. The sign for the morning crews to begin their work. "Not everyone is happy with this. And I think some rather wealthy patrons who have their own allies may be attempting something as well out at sea and the land just beyond the edge of the Kingdoms. Certainly feels like sides are slowly amassing captains and guns." Almost as if on que, a well dressed Gnome passes by about 50 feet away. Two bodyguards flanking her on their side, as they head towards the shipyard. The Vol gives a bit of a nod, tipping the hat, after finishing answering what questions Abigail has and slipping back into the slowly waking city.
Tarak...
The temple sits in the older part of the town. Smaller buildings built all around - clearly for those that came and settled here. Old gain silos turned now into apartments. Crammed homes build nearly on top of each other with narrow pathways and walkways. This old city center is clearly for the smaller folk that build here originally, as you have to squish through between buildings and along roads that no longer work as a true main road; but the build up and industry over time has made that impossible.
The Temple itself was once perhaps just a large home. Then added on. And added on again. And then a bit further. It's now a taller building in this area; rivaling some of the grain silos turned homes. The older parts likely have been converted to storage and homes for those that live here.
Stairs lead up to a painted copper door; painted to keep them from corroding or turning green in the air. They're well maintained, swinging open with barely a squeak. The narthex chamber is warm; spots for anyone to come and get a break from a storm or the cold. Writing along a archway leading to the central chamber reads a classic saying:
Create with the mind, and build with your hands. Learn to be one with the world. Not the master of it.
A saying of the Order of Forge.
The central nave and isles form a circular chamber. In the center on a raised dais is the holy tome. The thick and heavy book laid out in the open. Some Abbots currently tend to the few that are here; for before dawn prayers or simply finding a place to sleep. With a fishing community, it's likely the services here start quite early. You would assume that a temple of this size has a contingent of knights and soldiers. Possibly another paladin or two, to act on behalf of The Faith in situations that arise. Whoever the High Priest is here may in fact also be one who has shown themself to be blessed by the Iron Queen herself.
Several other doors lead elsewhere. Likely the older buildings you saw earlier, and likely a basement. You did ascend stairs to get to this 'ground floor.'
The Abbots leave you alone to morning prayer. One eventually coming by with a warm bowl of soup and some fresh local tea, placing it down beside you on a small tray. After some time, those in training give some early sermons; blessings and guidance for those starting their days or heading out to sea.
After a bit of time, the High Priest of the Temple goes approach. A older woman dark skinned Rana Woman who's hair has long since lost it's color and tiny stray hairs grace the tip of her chin. The familiar white and green trimmed robes of the faith fall about her gracefully. Nails has black streaks running through them; likely from working a life breathing on fumes of the forge for decades.
"Brother, how may we be in service to one another today?"
Morgan...
You spend a little bit of time looking around before the shops open. The rows and alleyways lead to all sorts of standard affairs; blacksmiths, resuppliers, those who live on the sea. It's created quite the busy little port where it's far easier to find someone to sell off a shield or a weapon. In the window of a general store, they have a fairly well done selection of knives on display.
Once the stores open, they'll easily buy the Palm Pistol & Ammo for 25 gold, and the Crowbar for 8 silver. A standard shield runs 12 gold, and dagger for 3 gold. ((Can always use some social tactics to try and haggle))
There is a bit of a well-to-do establishment that certainly seems to have some books and likely upper class patrons inside. Judging from the window looking in. It's surprisingly a bit busy with people coming and getting ready as they seem to walk around. Locals seem to call the place as the Den of the Helpers. And while you normally have to be a member, monetary donations do enable people to go inside. (10 gold, per 4 hours)
Tucked back behind some buildings, there is a old fortune teller who people do swear by. Could very well be a parlor trick.
Looking up towards the older parts of the city, the bells of the temple ring out. While the Faith have their issues with magic users; they normally are the ones who keep knowledge and records that may be a help as well.
DM PbP Series (Completed) : The Blackmire Company, Voyage of the Windhook ,Shanty of Soulripper, The Streets of Dunnour
Tarak remains in deep in meditation throughout the day barely registering the comings and goings around him but always aware. When the food is brought he accepts it with a small nod of his head. The soup is filling and surprisingly tasty, just the right amount of spice and flavor. He slides the empty bowl back on to the tray and then continues his prayers. Finally a couple hours later he feels “done” there is no other word to describe it he is just done. He opens his eyes as the High Priestess enters the room.
"Brother, how may we be in service to one another today?" She asks. How indeed he muses thinking over how comforting and supportive the feeling is of being around those who serve the Faith. Not that the crew hasn’t grown on him. They have proven themselves to be good people even if a bit...off course. The navigation joke makes him chuckle.
“Priestess I come seeking guidance. A shadow is growing in my mind. A shadow of a great evil that I feel wants destroy anything it can not subjugate. I can not help but think that this bracer which has come into my guarding is somehow involved and there are those who desperately seek to attain it. I can not remove it as it is currently bound to me but I had hoped you could proved direction to where it could be safely removed and secured. The Demon who hunts me will stop at nothing to get it. Where can I go?”
"I will take the scimitar and arcane stone... If a witch says it gave her weapon powers, then maybe it will help kill off a demon." Abigail hands over the potion and key.
"So, he might be making a play to become a majority stakeholder in the pirate council? Or does he want to just take over the waters and islands out right?"
To Blane, regarding the halfling with the bodyguards, "Who is that?"