Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer Creatures
Frozen Sick
D&D Beyond Basic Rules
Basic Rules (2014)
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Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer CreaturesFrozen SickD&D Beyond Basic RulesBasic Rules (2014)Sign in to view your library & saved favorites.
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"What would ye be wan'ing to do with me hair anyways, elf?" Dain asks, more than a little intrigued and looking over the elf's outfit of hair.
My Author Page: www.peterjblake.com
Novels Published: Reynard's Fate, Kita's Honour, Okoth's War and Callindrill
"Ah, well..." Mindartis looks about nervously, then leans in close to Dain. "I collect rare things. It gives me delight to have them. I...I shouldn't like to say more than that."
"You'll do as you're told," snaps Kraddock gruffly.
"We'll work with you one-on-one to teach you the diverse skills of a professional guard, and in time you'll be ready to defend the streets of Saltmarsh proper," adds Edgar, his brow furrowed deeply.
"...nah, just kiddin!" he adds with a grin after a beat. "You're a guard. Ye' guard!"
Kraddock and Edgar both chuckle at their poor attempt at mirth. "Alright kid, you'll be alright." With that, the older man gets up from his chair.
"You'll be relieved at midnight," says Kraddock. "Don't let the fat one insult you," he says, eyeing the men in the cell. "And don't socialize with the rabble." With that, they both depart with Onald.
Katernin looks to Molo, "It's up to you Molo, what would you like to do?"
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Dain eyes Mindartis carefully. "Well, if ye collects rare things, ye'll 'ave some rare things to trade, won't ye? What has ye got that ye can give me in exchange fer a lock o' me hair?"
My Author Page: www.peterjblake.com
Novels Published: Reynard's Fate, Kita's Honour, Okoth's War and Callindrill
Molo hunches down and starts losing all his huff and puff.
“I can’t fight without a foot. I need to go see this Brinehanded.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
“Huh,” Fianna said to herself as the others departed as if they were escaping a sinking ship. Should be easy enough though, what with them all being locked up tight...
And with that thought in mind, Fianna cast her eyes about for the keys. She wanted to go check the doors were indeed locked but just in case she’d need to know where the keys were...
As she searched for keys, and checked what else may be about the guards desk, FinFin crawled out for their hiding spot around the back of her neck and went to check out the cells themselves. The pseudodragon just flew up to each cell, staying far enough away to avoid any problems, and looked to see who all was locked up...
Quite suddenly Mindartis smiles very widely indeed, revealing a full set of pearly-white teeth. "I have a music box. It's absolutely exquisite. All those little figures that twirl and twirl...You would not believe what I had to go through to get it." He tics for a long time. "Music boxes are rare enough as it is, and this is an absolutely unique piece," Mindartis explains, a note of pride entering his voice.
Fianna finds no keys - mostly just snacks - seeds and dried fruit - and a few thin daggers.
The main cell contains three grim human men, aged between 30 and 50. One is rotund and shirtless, his back a maze of thick black hair. The other two are scrawny; one is missing an eye. They don't look like Saltmarsh's finest. The lock is high quality; the stout wooden door has a small window through which you peer at them. The other cells have no windows.
The big guy spots you looking at him. "What?" he bellows.
"I'm bored... tell me a story?" Fianna says with a smile, but then turns and walks away.
Fianna will just try to make herself as comfortable as possible and make sure that either her or FinFin are awake and alert at all times.
“No. I need help. Or I won’t be able to.” Molo holds up his chewed foot.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Brinehanded becomes serious and examines Molo's foot quietly for a moment. He utters a brief prayer - a few words and a quick hand gesture - and fully heals Molo's remaining injuries. His foot, however, while no longer in pain, is still half-toeless. "I cannot restore yer missing toes," he says sympathetically. "But I know someone who can help." He turns his head and shouts. "Byron!"
The acolyte who served you tea minutes ago reappears. "Byron happens to be an expert cordwainer. He made me boot!" Brinehanded holds up his single, leather-booted foot. (His other leg ends in a wooden peg.) "He'll make you somethin' t' fill out yer foot." He turns to Byron. "Can ye' make somethin' special fer this poor soul?"
"Now, payment." He looks now at Kelnan. "We accept donations, or maybe you can still do that little favor we spoke about. We still have two bodies out there. In Sinker." He launches into a long story about an old shipwreck. It takes a few minutes before you realize it is completely unrelated to Molo's foot, Sinker, or anything else.
Kelnan looks to the others. "I would be interested in a little salvaging. Maybe get some experience in a boat before we deal with the smugglers. I don't think we have much gold to spare just yet."
"Ye' recover the two sailors' bodies, we'll call it even for the boot an' for th' healin' for yer friend. Plus ye' can keep whatever ye' can salvage off it. Had an exquisite, silvered fishing pole at one time. A beauty. Just mind th' crabs, though. They bite." He points out the window, where in the fading twilight, several hundred feet offshore, you can see the mast of a ship protruding at an angle, just above the cold grey waves.
Then he launches into a semi-interesting and quite long story involving a fisherman catching a purple fish that tasted somewhat like grapes.
The big shirtless man unleashes a torrent of foul, shouted obscenities at you. The one-eyed prisoner curls up into a fetal position in the corner fighting off some sort of panic attack. The third prisoner shouts, "Food! We haven't eaten today!"
"When I was still little more than a boy, I travelled far to the north, to the great museums of the Empire of Men. There I found this music box in a rotting crypt deep within the catacombs beneath the museum." Mindartis begins to get lost in his tale, and his odd mannerisms get stranger, and a bit creepy. His eyes roll back and he taps one foot incessantly as he describes the filthy catacombs.
"The whole area was filled with the cries and howls of countless trapped souls. It took me nearly three days to find the right tomb, sealed deep within a pit of acid. A great stone devil stood above the doorway." Mindartis pauses for a long moment and looks thoughtful. "Do you like soup?"
"Food is for well behave scumbags and miscreants.. Behave and I'll bring you back something once I am relieved at midnight... But I've nothing on me so we're all going to have to wait to eat." Fianna says as reasonable as she can make herself sound, then return to the desk, sit, and ignore them.
The barrage of insults and obscenities eventually dies away, leaving only the quiet whimpering of the one-eyed prisoner. Fianna also hears the faint sounds of somebody pacing in one of the small, windowless cells. You can also hear loud men laughing somewhere outside.
The scrawny, hungry prisoner pipes up again. "He's sick! We need a healer in here! Hey, guard!"
Molo nods along and swishes his tail experimentally a couple times, like he’s swimming.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Fianna walks over to the cell to get a look at what appears to be the problem with the sick prisoner. She does not get too close to the door, though, as everyone has heard of the sick inmate ruse. If she sees anything that truly looks emergency-ish she will send FinFin out searching for any guards they can find. There must be someone else in this building? If not, FinFin will go to the place she first went before being assigned this duty, and try to find a guard there. Otherwise, Fianna waits...
"I've sent for help, someone should be here soon," is Fianna's standard reply to calls from the prisoners. She feels slightly bad about the situation but as no keys were left there is nothing she can do to help the prisoner even if she had a way to help him. She could put him out of his misery, she supposes... But no. Not on her first day of work.