Tul watches the priest stagger as he is pushed outside. She is still unsure of his sincerity, at least towards her but she still finds herself feeling pity towards him. She slowly turns towards the others.
"I know I am new here, but that seems unwise. Lankus was to see the priest home but all he did was push him outside. He may come to harm on his own," she says.
She looks at each of them.
"I would escort him home but I am not sure of the location of his church."
She moves towards the door.
"If one of you would point the direction I will make sure he gets home and return directly."
"I'll come with, if you'd like," Arvastan offers, nodding to Tul. "I haven't been around here in a while, but I know the old man's church." He starts making his way towards the door, tugging his coat on and sliding his trident into the strips on the back.
"Aye, I'll help you get him home too," Dimma says. Her hand unconsciously comes to rest on the head of her warhammer, "but no more talk about that place tonight. He's tired enough and he needs his rest before tomorrow morning." She turns a longing look towards the bar and adds on, "Then let's have a nights' merry on behalf of the Council, who are we to reject hospitality?"
Gibson stays where he is and continues trying to convince whoever is still there to lend him the 20 gold he needs for the undead-detecting-and-dispelation equipment.
Tul, Arvastan, Dimma and Hugh easily find the one-legged priest, the old man having gotten barely 10 yards or so from the Wicker Goat after his ejection from the tavern. Brother Wellgar seems dimly aware of your presence, grasping onto Hugh for support. "Thank you, son. Ah, you've got the look of a sailor about you, my boy. Wait...I knew you, don't I? You were on the Sunchaser, right? Dreadful tragedy that." The priest mutters to himself something that sounds like "Still haven't recovered all of them," as he grips Hugh's shoulder tightly.
Night has settled on Saltmarsh, and if anything, the fog has become denser and heavy and only the torchlight from the buildings provide Arvastan with the direction that he needs to lead the group to the temple.
Arvastan, as you reach the Sharkfin Bridge, you brace yourself, knowing what's to come -- a sharp wave of nausea and a splitting headache hits you as soon as you sets foot on the bridge and grips you until you step off of it. It doesn't seem to affect anyone else, though and the group's progress is not overly impeded.
Finally after about ten minutes you find the Temple of Procan, the largest structure in town, a massive stone building that just appears dramatically out of the fog. Wrapping on the door, one of the initiates comes out and seeing the condition of Wellgar, takes him in hand. By their unsurprised look, you get the impression that this is a regular occurrence for the one-legged priest. "We had wondered if Brother Wellgar would rejoin us tonight. You have our gratitude, friends. May Procan's blessings be upon you." They take him in and slam the heavy wooden door behind them, leaving all of you damp and shivering in the rapidly chilling night.
Tul turns from the slammed door, not very surprised by the initiate's actions. She's had doors slammed in her face before. She does turn with more interest to Arvastan though. He seemed somehow pained when they crossed the bridge.
"Are you okay?" she asks Arvastan softly. "I do not mean to pry, but you did not look well at the bridge."
"Ah, I will be fine," he answers with a small smile. "It's an old curse on the bridge; I am well familiar with it. Some sorcerer long ago who had it out for fey," he explains, shrugging. He does seem apprehensive about going across it again, however, on the way back.
"Saltmarsh is full of wonderful surprises," he sighs, making a face. "I have been at sea so long that I'd nearly forgotten."
The crowd at the Wicker Goat begins to dwindle after that excitement., most likely caused by the nervousness most Saltmarshers feel whenever Dilpas Manor is brought up. Manistrade Copperlocks leads the dwarves upstairs, in the expectation that they will be mining again in the morning, while the guardsmen slowly start to trickle out, leaving Gib with only a few potential investors.
Lankus for his part, has kept the alcohol flowing and is very diligently tracking the (paid for) tab, though at the moment he seems to be deep in conversation with some of the older off-duty guardsmen.
By the time Arvastan, Dimma, Hugh, and Tul return, Gib is deep in conversation with a gnome that has clearly seen better days. Although his facial hair is still meticulously prepared-- he has a thin pencil mustache that connects to his sideburns that form a lightning bolt shape on each side of his face. His clothing, however, is shabby and his face is flushed red with the strong Saltmarsh Rum he's been drinking. "You know, you and your mates are very brave doing what you're doing. Going *hic* to that wizard's home like you all are doing. Very very brave." He looks down at the pint in front of Gib and licks his lips. "I've been to that house before, I have." He puffs out his chest. "In fact, I am probably one of only a few to escape that manor with my life, I am. One of the most terrifying nights of my life. I saw and heard...*hic* horrors you would never imagine."
He keeps staring at the glass, squinting at it heartily, seeming to lose his train of thought.
Gibson slides his drink in front of the old gnome. Looking up at Lankus, he clears his throat gently and holds up two more fingers before returning his attention to his new friend. "You don't say! Why, that's the most incredible thing I've heard all night. And I'll tell you what: I've heard some incredible things tonight, to be sure! You know, it could be my own addled absentmindedness or perhaps just the drink, but at this precise moment in time, my friend, your name completely eludes me. I feel like we've been over this but at this late hour it's getting more and more difficult to discern between the tales I've told and those I've been told." That smile. That darn smile. To one not currently falling under its spell, it's almost grotesque. Gargoyleish. "Once you've gone back over that tidbit, mayhaps you can recount the epic ballad of Escape From Haunted Manor or The Gnome That Got Away such that my companions and I might have a somewhat more substantial chance of returning whilst still attached to these corporeal forms to which we have grown so accustomed."
Lankus brings over two more pints and makes a note in the group's tab, while the gnome smiles an even bigger smile now and looks at Gib gratefully.
"Oooh, this is nice, isn't it? I always say storytelling is thirsty work, I do. My name is Satox Lonagan, and I....*hic*, well, it don't really matter what I do." He touches the side of his nose and winks at Gib, and uncertain if you saw it or not, turns to the rest of the group with an even bigger telegraphed wink.
"I been to the house before. *hic* Old Dilpas was a collector he was. My brother Winston runs the general store in town and was always getting these fancy wines for him. A few months ago, work was getting a little scarce, it was, and I remembered Dilpas was supposed to have a wine cellar. And, *hic* thanks to Winston, I knew the manor had a back door behind the garden. I goes into the kitchen yeah and its a nasty place, that is. Full of bugs, little creepy crawlie nasties...." He shivers and takes another drink of his pint. "Ah this is grand. Anyways, I find the stairs to go down to the cellar. Soon as I open the door, I hears it, I do. Loud, ungodly shrieks and screams, coming from everywhere around me. Made my *hic* blood run cold. But what I saw next was even worse."
Now thoroughly enjoying himself, Satox leans in, whispering this part of the story, his slurring making it only barely intelligible. "It was a man. Pale as death he was, surrounded by a horde of rodents, crawling all over him. He didn't mind though, he just sort of grinned at me, he did, and raised his hand. I knew right away what it was. One of them vampire fellas, yeah?" I ran as fast as *hic* I could. Haven't been the same ever since. Only a good stiff drink can calm my nerves now."
At that, the other old-timers at the bar, who had been listening rapt up until this point burst into laughter. "Go on and pull the other one Satox! You've been propping up this bar since King Skotti was soiling his nappies."
The gnome turns to them in annoyance and the group begins to argue about grievances far older than even they likely remember.
Tul listens quietly to the story told by the drunken gnome, paying more attention to how Lankus reacts to the story than to how he gnome looks telling it. At first she contemplates the filter through which information has flowed tonight. Those suggesting ghosts and vampires have been drinking excessively. But she remembers something her father would tell her any time she said she didn't believe a story he was telling her.
"Disbelief can end something vital before it's even begun," she says, and then covers her mouth quickly realizing she spoke out loud.
She composes herself and looks at the group that has come together to investigate the manor.
"I think it is fair to say that many in this town are fearful of Dilpas Manor," she begins. "But beyond that, I do not think we can claim to know what to expect."
She leans in closer and motions for the others to do the same, hoping to limit what Lankus can hear from the bar.
"I think Lankus has taken great interest in what has been said tonight. And while I do not think it wise to investigate a decrepit manor in the dark and we should wait til morning, I think it possible that doing so may give the advantage to anyone who may have taken up residence there. Perhaps it would be wise to keep an eye on the bartender to see if he tells anyone what we plan to do."
Taking advantage of living in a time and place (and universe...?) in which "sanitation" just meant using a chamber pot instead of aiming out the window, Gibson drops a copper coin in Satox's backup cup of grog while he's turned around arguing. A pittance of thanks for the information but hopefully it'll give the codger a thrill at the end of the night.
Assuming the group is back for the sake of pacing, Gibson stands from the table and motions for everyone to gather on the far end of the mostly empty pub.
"As I live and breath, hand-to-Cumian, I had no idea this cartoonish sot was the brother of my good friend Winston! I've a feeling I'll get considerably more helpful information from Winnie in the morning. I can tell by the looks on your faces that it has been quite the long day for all in your assorted journeys and adventures. If my newly-found cohorts find it amenable, why don't you all take advantage of the...amenities upstairs (if you haven't space set aside elsewhere) and we'll reconvene over breakfast at first light...or whenever the dread mistress of consciousness manages to steal my bliss once more. I feel a walk coming on as I frequently require to ruminate and digest anything from mysteries of the mind to mysteries of whatever was in the sausage tonight."
Lankus stares slack-jawed at Gib's words. "I...don't know what he just said. Do you folks need anything else?"
(Including the room Tul already rented, there are three rooms available upstairs. Arvastan and Hugh -- you likely have your own modest lodgings elsewhere in Saltmarsh. DImma, you've probably been staying in your guild hall. Of course, Anders is paying for everything, so if you want to stay together, feel free. If there's anything else y'all want to get accomplished tonight, feel free.)
Tul watches Lankus a little longer, realizing that his interest might not be directly related to the manor. He doesn't appear as interested in them now as he did when the young noble was hear. That was something to think about later when she had some quiet.
"I would like to take some time to think about what has been said tonight and get ready for tomorrow. If even a portion of what has been said is accurate, it may be a long day."
She stands and turns to face the group, and bows slightly.
"I am honored to have met you all tonight," she says to the group. And then she turns to Dimma, "I am sure it is modest, but if you have no where else to go, I would happily share my room with you."
(Mobile, also Ill be at work for another few hours, feel free to progress to the manor without me until then.)
Dimma thinks on Tul's offer for a moment before responding, "I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to gather some belongings in the morning. Shall we meet in front of the council chambers tomorrow to speak with the elf before heading out?"
"Let us not forget that we have, in fact, discovered another potential source of valuable information which may very well prove to be...invaluable. We'll need to stop by the general store before setting out. Winston often has wares far more useful than mere supplies and provisions." Gibson stands up. "Until the morning (or whenever), I bid you all a goodnight!" He bows in an exaggeratedly formal fashion, grabs his walking stick, and shuffles out the door into the night.
"Until the morning then," Tul says and then heads up to her room, where she moves through a series of rehearsed martial arts poses and patterns, until a sheen of sweat covers her skin, and then she sits with crossed legs and centers herself as she replays in her mind everything that she learned that night. The group was an odd collection, and yet they all seemed to find some acceptance in this town. She was feeling more optimistic than she had when she first walked into Saltmarsh. She hoped that feeling would stay.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Tul watches the priest stagger as he is pushed outside. She is still unsure of his sincerity, at least towards her but she still finds herself feeling pity towards him. She slowly turns towards the others.
"I know I am new here, but that seems unwise. Lankus was to see the priest home but all he did was push him outside. He may come to harm on his own," she says.
She looks at each of them.
"I would escort him home but I am not sure of the location of his church."
She moves towards the door.
"If one of you would point the direction I will make sure he gets home and return directly."
"I'll come with, if you'd like," Arvastan offers, nodding to Tul. "I haven't been around here in a while, but I know the old man's church." He starts making his way towards the door, tugging his coat on and sliding his trident into the strips on the back.
No Longer Active"Aye, I'll help you get him home too," Dimma says. Her hand unconsciously comes to rest on the head of her warhammer, "but no more talk about that place tonight. He's tired enough and he needs his rest before tomorrow morning." She turns a longing look towards the bar and adds on, "Then let's have a nights' merry on behalf of the Council, who are we to reject hospitality?"
Hugh will make sure to escort Wellgar home like Lankus has asked before returning to the tavern to drink long into the night.
Alton Thorngage- (Klein’s One Shot String Adventure)
Holden Stonefist-(A Tale of Mercenaries)
Fenrick Wolfsbane- (Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden)
DMing-Ctleath13’s Lost Mines of Phandelver and Ctleath13’s Out of the Abyss
Gibson stays where he is and continues trying to convince whoever is still there to lend him the 20 gold he needs for the undead-detecting-and-dispelation equipment.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Tul, Arvastan, Dimma and Hugh easily find the one-legged priest, the old man having gotten barely 10 yards or so from the Wicker Goat after his ejection from the tavern. Brother Wellgar seems dimly aware of your presence, grasping onto Hugh for support. "Thank you, son. Ah, you've got the look of a sailor about you, my boy. Wait...I knew you, don't I? You were on the Sunchaser, right? Dreadful tragedy that." The priest mutters to himself something that sounds like "Still haven't recovered all of them," as he grips Hugh's shoulder tightly.
Night has settled on Saltmarsh, and if anything, the fog has become denser and heavy and only the torchlight from the buildings provide Arvastan with the direction that he needs to lead the group to the temple.
Arvastan, as you reach the Sharkfin Bridge, you brace yourself, knowing what's to come -- a sharp wave of nausea and a splitting headache hits you as soon as you sets foot on the bridge and grips you until you step off of it. It doesn't seem to affect anyone else, though and the group's progress is not overly impeded.
Finally after about ten minutes you find the Temple of Procan, the largest structure in town, a massive stone building that just appears dramatically out of the fog. Wrapping on the door, one of the initiates comes out and seeing the condition of Wellgar, takes him in hand. By their unsurprised look, you get the impression that this is a regular occurrence for the one-legged priest. "We had wondered if Brother Wellgar would rejoin us tonight. You have our gratitude, friends. May Procan's blessings be upon you." They take him in and slam the heavy wooden door behind them, leaving all of you damp and shivering in the rapidly chilling night.
Tul turns from the slammed door, not very surprised by the initiate's actions. She's had doors slammed in her face before. She does turn with more interest to Arvastan though. He seemed somehow pained when they crossed the bridge.
"Are you okay?" she asks Arvastan softly. "I do not mean to pry, but you did not look well at the bridge."
(Mobile)
"Ah, I will be fine," he answers with a small smile. "It's an old curse on the bridge; I am well familiar with it. Some sorcerer long ago who had it out for fey," he explains, shrugging. He does seem apprehensive about going across it again, however, on the way back.
"Saltmarsh is full of wonderful surprises," he sighs, making a face. "I have been at sea so long that I'd nearly forgotten."
No Longer ActiveThe crowd at the Wicker Goat begins to dwindle after that excitement., most likely caused by the nervousness most Saltmarshers feel whenever Dilpas Manor is brought up. Manistrade Copperlocks leads the dwarves upstairs, in the expectation that they will be mining again in the morning, while the guardsmen slowly start to trickle out, leaving Gib with only a few potential investors.
Lankus for his part, has kept the alcohol flowing and is very diligently tracking the (paid for) tab, though at the moment he seems to be deep in conversation with some of the older off-duty guardsmen.
By the time Arvastan, Dimma, Hugh, and Tul return, Gib is deep in conversation with a gnome that has clearly seen better days. Although his facial hair is still meticulously prepared-- he has a thin pencil mustache that connects to his sideburns that form a lightning bolt shape on each side of his face. His clothing, however, is shabby and his face is flushed red with the strong Saltmarsh Rum he's been drinking. "You know, you and your mates are very brave doing what you're doing. Going *hic* to that wizard's home like you all are doing. Very very brave." He looks down at the pint in front of Gib and licks his lips. "I've been to that house before, I have." He puffs out his chest. "In fact, I am probably one of only a few to escape that manor with my life, I am. One of the most terrifying nights of my life. I saw and heard...*hic* horrors you would never imagine."
He keeps staring at the glass, squinting at it heartily, seeming to lose his train of thought.
Gibson slides his drink in front of the old gnome. Looking up at Lankus, he clears his throat gently and holds up two more fingers before returning his attention to his new friend. "You don't say! Why, that's the most incredible thing I've heard all night. And I'll tell you what: I've heard some incredible things tonight, to be sure! You know, it could be my own addled absentmindedness or perhaps just the drink, but at this precise moment in time, my friend, your name completely eludes me. I feel like we've been over this but at this late hour it's getting more and more difficult to discern between the tales I've told and those I've been told." That smile. That darn smile. To one not currently falling under its spell, it's almost grotesque. Gargoyleish. "Once you've gone back over that tidbit, mayhaps you can recount the epic ballad of Escape From Haunted Manor or The Gnome That Got Away such that my companions and I might have a somewhat more substantial chance of returning whilst still attached to these corporeal forms to which we have grown so accustomed."
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Lankus brings over two more pints and makes a note in the group's tab, while the gnome smiles an even bigger smile now and looks at Gib gratefully.
"Oooh, this is nice, isn't it? I always say storytelling is thirsty work, I do. My name is Satox Lonagan, and I....*hic*, well, it don't really matter what I do." He touches the side of his nose and winks at Gib, and uncertain if you saw it or not, turns to the rest of the group with an even bigger telegraphed wink.
"I been to the house before. *hic* Old Dilpas was a collector he was. My brother Winston runs the general store in town and was always getting these fancy wines for him. A few months ago, work was getting a little scarce, it was, and I remembered Dilpas was supposed to have a wine cellar. And, *hic* thanks to Winston, I knew the manor had a back door behind the garden. I goes into the kitchen yeah and its a nasty place, that is. Full of bugs, little creepy crawlie nasties...." He shivers and takes another drink of his pint. "Ah this is grand. Anyways, I find the stairs to go down to the cellar. Soon as I open the door, I hears it, I do. Loud, ungodly shrieks and screams, coming from everywhere around me. Made my *hic* blood run cold. But what I saw next was even worse."
Now thoroughly enjoying himself, Satox leans in, whispering this part of the story, his slurring making it only barely intelligible. "It was a man. Pale as death he was, surrounded by a horde of rodents, crawling all over him. He didn't mind though, he just sort of grinned at me, he did, and raised his hand. I knew right away what it was. One of them vampire fellas, yeah?" I ran as fast as *hic* I could. Haven't been the same ever since. Only a good stiff drink can calm my nerves now."
At that, the other old-timers at the bar, who had been listening rapt up until this point burst into laughter. "Go on and pull the other one Satox! You've been propping up this bar since King Skotti was soiling his nappies."
The gnome turns to them in annoyance and the group begins to argue about grievances far older than even they likely remember.
Tul listens quietly to the story told by the drunken gnome, paying more attention to how Lankus reacts to the story than to how he gnome looks telling it. At first she contemplates the filter through which information has flowed tonight. Those suggesting ghosts and vampires have been drinking excessively. But she remembers something her father would tell her any time she said she didn't believe a story he was telling her.
"Disbelief can end something vital before it's even begun," she says, and then covers her mouth quickly realizing she spoke out loud.
She composes herself and looks at the group that has come together to investigate the manor.
"I think it is fair to say that many in this town are fearful of Dilpas Manor," she begins. "But beyond that, I do not think we can claim to know what to expect."
She leans in closer and motions for the others to do the same, hoping to limit what Lankus can hear from the bar.
"I think Lankus has taken great interest in what has been said tonight. And while I do not think it wise to investigate a decrepit manor in the dark and we should wait til morning, I think it possible that doing so may give the advantage to anyone who may have taken up residence there. Perhaps it would be wise to keep an eye on the bartender to see if he tells anyone what we plan to do."
(Tul, you may roll an Insight check on Lankus if you wish)
(Tul's insight check: 11 )
Taking advantage of living in a time and place (and universe...?) in which "sanitation" just meant using a chamber pot instead of aiming out the window, Gibson drops a copper coin in Satox's backup cup of grog while he's turned around arguing. A pittance of thanks for the information but hopefully it'll give the codger a thrill at the end of the night.
Assuming the group is back for the sake of pacing, Gibson stands from the table and motions for everyone to gather on the far end of the mostly empty pub.
"As I live and breath, hand-to-Cumian, I had no idea this cartoonish sot was the brother of my good friend Winston! I've a feeling I'll get considerably more helpful information from Winnie in the morning. I can tell by the looks on your faces that it has been quite the long day for all in your assorted journeys and adventures. If my newly-found cohorts find it amenable, why don't you all take advantage of the...amenities upstairs (if you haven't space set aside elsewhere) and we'll reconvene over breakfast at first light...or whenever the dread mistress of consciousness manages to steal my bliss once more. I feel a walk coming on as I frequently require to ruminate and digest anything from mysteries of the mind to mysteries of whatever was in the sausage tonight."
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Lankus stares slack-jawed at Gib's words. "I...don't know what he just said. Do you folks need anything else?"
(Including the room Tul already rented, there are three rooms available upstairs. Arvastan and Hugh -- you likely have your own modest lodgings elsewhere in Saltmarsh. DImma, you've probably been staying in your guild hall. Of course, Anders is paying for everything, so if you want to stay together, feel free. If there's anything else y'all want to get accomplished tonight, feel free.)
Tul watches Lankus a little longer, realizing that his interest might not be directly related to the manor. He doesn't appear as interested in them now as he did when the young noble was hear. That was something to think about later when she had some quiet.
"I would like to take some time to think about what has been said tonight and get ready for tomorrow. If even a portion of what has been said is accurate, it may be a long day."
She stands and turns to face the group, and bows slightly.
"I am honored to have met you all tonight," she says to the group. And then she turns to Dimma, "I am sure it is modest, but if you have no where else to go, I would happily share my room with you."
(Mobile, also Ill be at work for another few hours, feel free to progress to the manor without me until then.)
Dimma thinks on Tul's offer for a moment before responding, "I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to gather some belongings in the morning. Shall we meet in front of the council chambers tomorrow to speak with the elf before heading out?"
"Let us not forget that we have, in fact, discovered another potential source of valuable information which may very well prove to be...invaluable. We'll need to stop by the general store before setting out. Winston often has wares far more useful than mere supplies and provisions." Gibson stands up. "Until the morning (or whenever), I bid you all a goodnight!" He bows in an exaggeratedly formal fashion, grabs his walking stick, and shuffles out the door into the night.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
"Until the morning then," Tul says and then heads up to her room, where she moves through a series of rehearsed martial arts poses and patterns, until a sheen of sweat covers her skin, and then she sits with crossed legs and centers herself as she replays in her mind everything that she learned that night. The group was an odd collection, and yet they all seemed to find some acceptance in this town. She was feeling more optimistic than she had when she first walked into Saltmarsh. She hoped that feeling would stay.