Gibson nods and you hear a *hurk*. "Oh, I'm angling for either using the Baron as a mediator or at the very least meeting Captain Stuffacan on dry ground if there's any possible way to make that happen. I, uh...would prefer to be, um... Ugh..." His eyes roll back briefly as the ship rocks. "At my best for the meeting. I'm not quite at my usual level of excellence under the present circumstances."
(Wist, make a perception check with disadvantage).
Yahlgrin nods, holding onto the wheel of the ship so tightly you can see his knuckles turn almost white. Yelling upwards to Wist, the gnome's voice betrays a hint of stress.
"Aye lad. Keep yer eyes open! Baron's settlement is called Samhedin. Should be only lights on the whole bloody area. Unless its the Prow." He adds miserably. "We'll find out one way or another soon enough."
"Aye Aye Captain! I'm looking for the lights.... Let's see.... port... er... starport... er...(insert appropriate direction based one roll)"
Wist continues to yell down to the Captain, offering either useful navigation help, or a frank confession that he can't see a thing with a good natured chuckle.
He also tries to think back at Gibson, not sure if it even works like that "God damnit, get out of here! Wait oh, this could be handy? I'll be down once I finish making a fool out of myself. Wait, could you hear that? I mean navigating. When I'm done navigating."
Wist, the fog is so intense, you literally can not see anything around you -- visibility is so bad, it is actually difficult to see even downwards, to the deck of the ship. Make a DEX save, if you please.
In spite of this -- but also likely because of the skill of the crew that Primewater put together, from Yahlgrin down to the tenacious rowers below decks, you don't actually seem to lose time and after about ninety minutes of inching her through the fog, Zola's Favour emerges from the mists directly into a small cove. Yahlgrin comes down to collect the rest of you, grinning broadly, something you haven't seen from the morose little gnome in the time you've known him.
"You folks must have Procan or some other God on your side, because that was one of the smoothest trips in my entire career. We have arrived on Morningstar Island, in an inspired bit of captaining, I got the lot of you within a few miles. You should be in Samhedin within the hour."
He pulls out his pipe and begins filling it with some greenish colored dried herbs. "I am bloody good, if I do say so myself." He looks at you all, seemingly on the verge of gloating a bit more, but seeing your serious countenances, he stops himself. "Err...if you are headed to Samhedin, you should be a little more aware of Baron Fortune's...eccentricities. I doubt he'll stop you from infiltrating the Prow, but he will likely be very curious as to your mission. He may even be able to help, or at the very least pinpoint the location of the Pale Prow for you. Just be circumspect, and above all polite. The Baron despises discourtesy and..." he looks at Gib and then Hugh. "boorishness. And remember the Prow typically sails at night, so do not allow the Baron to detain you for too long. If the ship leaves harbor tonight, we could lose her forever."
He puffs the pipe. "Better you than I dealing with the Baron. He's a dangerous man, likes toying with people. He always regarded me and the others who interacted with him the same way we regard our dinner." He grins again. "If'n he does give you lot the location of the Prow let me know -- I'll try and get the ship as close as possible so you can make a quick getaway."
"Thank you for your assistance, Captain," Tul says. "We will heed your warning and endeavor to see you again soon."
She then hitches her pack up onto her shoulders and heads over to climb down the rigging ladder to a jolly boat below (assuming the ship's crew lowered one for them).
Hugh follows Tul, making his way towards the vessel the party would use to reach the main island. He would give the crew members each nods and a final handshake to the captain. “Thank you, captain. You’ve got a beauty of a boat and I’d love to take her out again someday.” He says before turning and leaving.
Gibson chuckles. "My friend, we have none other than the all-powerful Cumian watching over our every move! Dominion over the sea or mountains or trees or what have you is good and all but they each eventually succumb to the void. I can understand how someone of your particular vocation could be won over by such trifles but believe you me: trees die, mountains fall, and seas drain and dry. But there is good news! For a trivial donation to the church, the ancient and almighty Cumian can wash your worries away and bless your soul unto the void! So what do you say? Can you spare a gold piece for salvation?" His bushy eyebrows bob up and down as he smiles and holds out a hand.
An awkward moment passes in silence before Gibson clears his throat and uses his open palm to smooth the front of his jacket. He turns to disembark and, at the last moment, remembers to ask, "So, uh... Any idea where to find this Baron Fortune character?"
(@8bitAttorney -- oof. You take 2d6 - 8 bludgeoning damage from the fall.)
Confused and disoriented by the sheer amount of fog, Wist stumbles about for a minute, then finally finds what he thinks is a spot of sure footing on the top of the sail, but where he expects to find purchase is instead air, and the Genasi tumbles hitting the deck of the ship with a large cracking sound.
A number of crew gather around Wist's prone body.
"Didya see that? Fella just stepped off the nest into nothing...."
"Don't think that's s'posed to bend that way. Best get the doc."
The dwarven surgeon comes up on deck, but seems utterly nonplussed by Wist's condition. "Got lucky lad. I've seen people's ribcages impale their lungs after a fall like that. Be grateful you got away with what you did." He grips the air genasi's wrist. "Not going to lie. This is going to hurt." With a quick twist, he snaps the wrist back into place. "Normally, I'd tell you not to exert yourself for the day, but I know that's foolish, so instead let me give you a little advice, lad. Stay behind the fella built like a brick shitehouse."
Below decks, Yahlgrin nods to Hugh. "My pleasure lad. You wear the sea well. Might think about getting back on a ship yourself. Hells, maybe if this whole mess works out, I'll be seeing you aboard your own boat at the docks soon enough."
Ignoring GIb's request for the donation, instead, the captain puts a lantern in the tiefling's outstretched hand. "Follow the orange lights. Can't be more than two miles. The Baron's 'manor' is unmissable, even in this pea souper. You'll be there in plenty of time. And remember. Courtesy."
You all pile into the jolly boat and row to the sandy beach of Morningstar Island. As Yahlgrin indicated, eastward, you see a number of faint, orangish lights through the haze, glowing indistinctly as lights do in the fog. To the west, the fogs seems lighter, and you are able to see a little bit more of the island.
(Someone can roll perception with advantage or a few of you can roll.)
Wist reaches out to take the lantern, but winces at the pain running from his ribcage down to his wrist and pivots into a stretch as if he wasn't trying to reach for the lantern at all. He's been quiet as the party rows, only grunting in assent at the plan Gibson and the others arrived at. He tries not to make eye contact with anyone in particular but eventually decides it might be wise to talk to Dimma.
"*cough* Um.... Dimma... I was, um... struck by some kind of vertigo back on the ship and had a rough landing climbing down from the rigging. I think for sure the fog must be magical, perhaps... um... poisonous? Can... um... does your god... uh... heal the sick?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Tul takes the lantern and hops out onto the sandy beach and starts off towards the orange lights, keeping an eye out for a path or stable ground to lead the party on, pausing to take in their surroundings as well, listening for anyone who might be moving in the dark.
Tul, looking to the west side of the island, you get a sense of what type of place Morningstar Island is. You've likely seen a few of these places during your time at sea. The island seems to be a refuge of sorts, for people from all regions of Oerth. There are buildings in rough imitation of the tented dwellings of the caliphate of Ekbar, the warm longhouses of the Northern provinces, , and many other places. Typically, these types of places attract people running from something --whether it was loss, tragedy, or something darker.
As you start your walk towards the eastern part of the island where Yahlgrin directed you, it gets foggier, and harder to see. However, you are able to follow a large wrought iron fence that seems to separate something from the larger island -- and as you get closer to the orange lights, you can see that Baron Fortune set himself up with a massive sprawling estate that dominates the island.
As you get closer, you are aware of someone monitoring you closely from the fog. Four figures emerge from the fog, and to your shock, you note that they are dressed in the finest livery, with powdered wigs and faces that seem to be painted an unnaturally pale color.
The leader, a youngish, emaciated looking man with red-rimmed eyes, pushes forward. "You are the ones who arrived by ship. You....should not have left your boat without the Baron's permission. He will.....heh, wish to see you." He giggles nervously, then looks to the three others with him. "Please follow us. The Baron is in the midst of his hehehheheheh... dinner."
Dimma strokes the hairs of her beard, looking over the genasi for a moment, "Huh, strange... I didn't notice any magical effect. No, afraid he doesn't do much healing. But here, I've got something that should help you." She shoulders off her bag, setting it against the bottom of the rowboat with a solid thunk, digging around for a small flask. The red liquid inside shimmers slightly as she removes it, handing over a Potion of Healing. "Take a swig of that, should fix you right up."
As they step off onto the island, Dimma will recite the Detect Magic ritual to herself - partly to make double sure that there really was no magic effect to the mist.
"We are grateful for your escort," Tul says to the young man. "Please lead and we will follow."
Tul watches their escort as they move across the estate to the Baron's manor. The leader's mannerisms and words are unsettling but they don't appear to be overtly hostile
Dimma, you cast Detect Magic but nothing really pings you right now -- the fog seems not to be magical in nature.
The guards lead you along the fence , and you notice that the other guards are speaking and gesturing at you in low voices. The house itself is remarkable, a truly magnificent major that would rival the finest houses in the capital of Keoland. Amidst the other driftwood shacks and makeshift dwellings on the island, it really stands out. The guards shuttle you to the main house. The three other guards remain outside, but the sallow leader escorts you personally into the manor -- the sheer opulence of it easily dwarfs even Gellan Primewater's home, giving you a sense of why perhaps the merchant prince was so dismissive of him.
He stops you all outside a large door carved from ornate black wood of some kind. "Just a moment, if you please." He smiles at you pleasantly enough, then enters the room, careful to shut the door behind him for a moment, then the door swings back open.
"Go on in. Baron Fortune is very, heh, excited to meet you."
As you step inside, you are treated to even more elegance. This is clearly the Baron's library, and every way is stacked from floor to ceiling with books of nearly every type and variety. The center figure, sitting at a circular table has skin so dark it is ebony in color, with closely cropped white hair. He has a neatly trimmed VanDyke mustache, and his eyes are an almost disconcertingly beautiful violet in color. The Baron is seated with a napkin around his neck -- the napkin stained almost scarlet. An array of meats are laid out on the table. He smiles broadly, flashing a mouth full of white teeth as you enter and approaches you, offering an elegantly gloved hand in greeting.
"Welcome, dear travelers, to Morningstar Island. I am so glad to have you here as visitors. It is a little curious," he says, looking at each of you slowly, "that we should have so many visitors here on our humble little domain all at once. No matter. All are welcome here." He goes back around and picks up some sort of meat, biting it and sending a rivulet of red liquid onto his napkin staring at you intensely as he chews.. "Are you seeking a home? Or are you on more...transient business?"
Gibson, ever smiling, throws his arms wide as he enters grandiosely. "Baron Fortune, I presume! It is the absolute honor of a lifetime to finally make your acquaintance!" He approaches and takes the Baron's hand in a hearty handshake. "The name's Gibson Lemonyellow, high priest of the First Church of Cumian and gallant governor of Gibson's Glorious Globetrotters. My friends call be 'Gib' so you can call me 'Gib.'" He takes a step back, hands on hips, and gives the man an appraising look. "Now I must say, Your Lordship, your presence is even more imposing... No, that's not the right word... 'Commanding,' yes that's it! Your presence is even more commanding than I was led to believe (and that's saying quite a lot). And your home?!" He looks around and gestures. "The design is a breath of fresh air amongst a tidal wave of architectural banality! A warm and welcoming oasis in a literal sea of...cold and...unpleasantness." Gibson's expression suddenly sobers. "Ah, but where are my manners? We have clearly caught you mid-repast! I'll get to the point so we can get out from under foot and let you digest in peace." The smile creeps back in as he begins to pace a bit in front of the group, hands clasped behind his back.
"My crew and I sail from Saltmarsh and come seeking information. I believe said information will be obtained at no small price and with no lack of danger from none other than the infamous captain of the Pale Prow, Ineca Sufocan himself!" Gibson raises a finger and briefly pauses for dramatic effect. "I recently acquired particulars which lead me to believe that he is currently concealed in one of your coveted coves. Now I, as a worldly and not completely inept denizen of Oerth, would, first and foremost, never dream of desecrating the sanctity and sovereignty of your sacred skerry by daring tread across it or conduct business in its waters except by first seeking an audience with the illustrious Baron Fortune himself!" He clicks his heels and gives a slight bow to the Baron before continuing. "Secondly, I would rather not approach a notoriously aggressive ghost ship for simple answers when common sense and, more importantly, courtesy would lead me to petition Your Lordship to request a civilized meeting with the captain instead!"
After a moment or two to let his words percolate, Gibson says, "Now, I come representing the powers that be in Saltmarsh. Your granting such an innocuous request would certainly go a long way to curry favor with the Council - those individuals directing trade as well as those with the ear of the king..." He leans forward slightly on the balls of his feet and raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly as he waits to gauge the response; his smile glistening in the light.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Healing potion: 8
Content to let Gibson do the talking, Wist takes the opportunity to look around the room, paying attention to the types of books that seem the least dusty, or the closest to the tops of chair-side tables or the like. Historical? Magical? Fiction? He also takes a deep inhale of the table of meats both out of hunger to fuel his re-knitting tendons, and to see if there's anything interesting about the cooking style he can tell from the smell, or that's obvious from the looks.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Gib Persuasion: 23
Gib's flattery seems to have found a receptive audience in the Baron, and he relaxes visibly towards the end of the tiefling's spiel. He firmly plants his fork down, dabs his face (smearing some blood across his face) and then points at Gib and nods vigorously. "You flatter me, sir. Of course, everything you say happens to be true. I particularly appreciate your..." He licks his lips. "Good taste in furnishing. I have found that those who crave leadership desire to have those as their leaders who demonstrate an understanding of the finer things in our life." He takes another bite of his food. "Now as to Captain Sufocan, I am surprised as you are remarkably well-informed. I have a relationship with the Captain's patrons, one that is based upon shared interests." He looks at you all, slowly one by one. "The arrangement has been fruitful for me. That doesn't mean I am unwilling to consider the request. I just need to be assured you will win. I never back losers.. You may start to convince me, by sharing you sent you on this errand, and authorized you to speak on behalf of, as Mr. Gib has said, those who control trade in this part of the world and have the ear of the king. I have my suspicions, but it is always better to hear it from the source."
Wist, as you look around the room, you are above all deeply impressed by the surroundings. Even the garish Primewater mansion, which wears its ostentatiousness on its sleeve with gaudiness everywhere looks cheap in comparison to the finely decorated and tasteful setting you now find yourself in. Most of the books on the shelves are in languages you do not recognize, but the ones you DO recognize are very rate books, almost all dealing with arcane subjects -- the study of magic, monographs about the natures of fiends, books about ancient sources of power in Oerth; all and all, its a very esoteric library, and almost uniformly old and valuable.
As you try to get a sense of what the Baron is eating, the smell of raw meat hits your nostrils. Whatever the food is he's been eating, it has not been cooked.
Gibson nods and you hear a *hurk*. "Oh, I'm angling for either using the Baron as a mediator or at the very least meeting Captain Stuffacan on dry ground if there's any possible way to make that happen. I, uh...would prefer to be, um... Ugh..." His eyes roll back briefly as the ship rocks. "At my best for the meeting. I'm not quite at my usual level of excellence under the present circumstances."
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
(Wist, make a perception check with disadvantage).
Yahlgrin nods, holding onto the wheel of the ship so tightly you can see his knuckles turn almost white. Yelling upwards to Wist, the gnome's voice betrays a hint of stress.
"Aye lad. Keep yer eyes open! Baron's settlement is called Samhedin. Should be only lights on the whole bloody area. Unless its the Prow." He adds miserably. "We'll find out one way or another soon enough."
DM Screen
98
Perception: 4
"Aye Aye Captain! I'm looking for the lights.... Let's see.... port... er... starport... er... (insert appropriate direction based one roll)"
Wist continues to yell down to the Captain, offering either useful navigation help, or a frank confession that he can't see a thing with a good natured chuckle.
He also tries to think back at Gibson, not sure if it even works like that "God damnit, get out of here! Wait oh, this could be handy? I'll be down once I finish making a fool out of myself. Wait, could you hear that? I mean navigating. When I'm done navigating."
Wist, the fog is so intense, you literally can not see anything around you -- visibility is so bad, it is actually difficult to see even downwards, to the deck of the ship. Make a DEX save, if you please.
In spite of this -- but also likely because of the skill of the crew that Primewater put together, from Yahlgrin down to the tenacious rowers below decks, you don't actually seem to lose time and after about ninety minutes of inching her through the fog, Zola's Favour emerges from the mists directly into a small cove. Yahlgrin comes down to collect the rest of you, grinning broadly, something you haven't seen from the morose little gnome in the time you've known him.
"You folks must have Procan or some other God on your side, because that was one of the smoothest trips in my entire career. We have arrived on Morningstar Island, in an inspired bit of captaining, I got the lot of you within a few miles. You should be in Samhedin within the hour."
He pulls out his pipe and begins filling it with some greenish colored dried herbs. "I am bloody good, if I do say so myself." He looks at you all, seemingly on the verge of gloating a bit more, but seeing your serious countenances, he stops himself. "Err...if you are headed to Samhedin, you should be a little more aware of Baron Fortune's...eccentricities. I doubt he'll stop you from infiltrating the Prow, but he will likely be very curious as to your mission. He may even be able to help, or at the very least pinpoint the location of the Pale Prow for you. Just be circumspect, and above all polite. The Baron despises discourtesy and..." he looks at Gib and then Hugh. "boorishness. And remember the Prow typically sails at night, so do not allow the Baron to detain you for too long. If the ship leaves harbor tonight, we could lose her forever."
He puffs the pipe. "Better you than I dealing with the Baron. He's a dangerous man, likes toying with people. He always regarded me and the others who interacted with him the same way we regard our dinner." He grins again. "If'n he does give you lot the location of the Prow let me know -- I'll try and get the ship as close as possible so you can make a quick getaway."
Tul gives Yahlgrin a quick bow.
"Thank you for your assistance, Captain," Tul says. "We will heed your warning and endeavor to see you again soon."
She then hitches her pack up onto her shoulders and heads over to climb down the rigging ladder to a jolly boat below (assuming the ship's crew lowered one for them).
Hugh follows Tul, making his way towards the vessel the party would use to reach the main island. He would give the crew members each nods and a final handshake to the captain. “Thank you, captain. You’ve got a beauty of a boat and I’d love to take her out again someday.” He says before turning and leaving.
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 chuckles. "My friend, we have none other than the all-powerful Cumian watching over our every move! Dominion over the sea or mountains or trees or what have you is good and all but they each eventually succumb to the void. I can understand how someone of your particular vocation could be won over by such trifles but believe you me: trees die, mountains fall, and seas drain and dry. But there is good news! For a trivial donation to the church, the ancient and almighty Cumian can wash your worries away and bless your soul unto the void! So what do you say? Can you spare a gold piece for salvation?" His bushy eyebrows bob up and down as he smiles and holds out a hand.
An awkward moment passes in silence before Gibson clears his throat and uses his open palm to smooth the front of his jacket. He turns to disembark and, at the last moment, remembers to ask, "So, uh... Any idea where to find this Baron Fortune character?"
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Dex save (+6): 9
(@8bitAttorney -- oof. You take 2d6 - 8 bludgeoning damage from the fall.)
Confused and disoriented by the sheer amount of fog, Wist stumbles about for a minute, then finally finds what he thinks is a spot of sure footing on the top of the sail, but where he expects to find purchase is instead air, and the Genasi tumbles hitting the deck of the ship with a large cracking sound.
A number of crew gather around Wist's prone body.
"Didya see that? Fella just stepped off the nest into nothing...."
"Don't think that's s'posed to bend that way. Best get the doc."
The dwarven surgeon comes up on deck, but seems utterly nonplussed by Wist's condition. "Got lucky lad. I've seen people's ribcages impale their lungs after a fall like that. Be grateful you got away with what you did." He grips the air genasi's wrist. "Not going to lie. This is going to hurt." With a quick twist, he snaps the wrist back into place. "Normally, I'd tell you not to exert yourself for the day, but I know that's foolish, so instead let me give you a little advice, lad. Stay behind the fella built like a brick shitehouse."
Below decks, Yahlgrin nods to Hugh. "My pleasure lad. You wear the sea well. Might think about getting back on a ship yourself. Hells, maybe if this whole mess works out, I'll be seeing you aboard your own boat at the docks soon enough."
Ignoring GIb's request for the donation, instead, the captain puts a lantern in the tiefling's outstretched hand. "Follow the orange lights. Can't be more than two miles. The Baron's 'manor' is unmissable, even in this pea souper. You'll be there in plenty of time. And remember. Courtesy."
You all pile into the jolly boat and row to the sandy beach of Morningstar Island. As Yahlgrin indicated, eastward, you see a number of faint, orangish lights through the haze, glowing indistinctly as lights do in the fog. To the west, the fogs seems lighter, and you are able to see a little bit more of the island.
(Someone can roll perception with advantage or a few of you can roll.)
Gibson gladly hands the lantern to Tul or Dimma, whoever will take it from him.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Wist reaches out to take the lantern, but winces at the pain running from his ribcage down to his wrist and pivots into a stretch as if he wasn't trying to reach for the lantern at all. He's been quiet as the party rows, only grunting in assent at the plan Gibson and the others arrived at. He tries not to make eye contact with anyone in particular but eventually decides it might be wise to talk to Dimma.
"*cough* Um.... Dimma... I was, um... struck by some kind of vertigo back on the ship and had a rough landing climbing down from the rigging. I think for sure the fog must be magical, perhaps... um... poisonous? Can... um... does your god... uh... heal the sick?"
Tul takes the lantern and hops out onto the sandy beach and starts off towards the orange lights, keeping an eye out for a path or stable ground to lead the party on, pausing to take in their surroundings as well, listening for anyone who might be moving in the dark.
(Perception w/ Advantage: 13 )
Hugh takes a lantern as he follows the rest of the group, keeping an eye behind them for any possible danger.
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
Tul, looking to the west side of the island, you get a sense of what type of place Morningstar Island is. You've likely seen a few of these places during your time at sea. The island seems to be a refuge of sorts, for people from all regions of Oerth. There are buildings in rough imitation of the tented dwellings of the caliphate of Ekbar, the warm longhouses of the Northern provinces, , and many other places. Typically, these types of places attract people running from something --whether it was loss, tragedy, or something darker.
As you start your walk towards the eastern part of the island where Yahlgrin directed you, it gets foggier, and harder to see. However, you are able to follow a large wrought iron fence that seems to separate something from the larger island -- and as you get closer to the orange lights, you can see that Baron Fortune set himself up with a massive sprawling estate that dominates the island.
As you get closer, you are aware of someone monitoring you closely from the fog. Four figures emerge from the fog, and to your shock, you note that they are dressed in the finest livery, with powdered wigs and faces that seem to be painted an unnaturally pale color.
The leader, a youngish, emaciated looking man with red-rimmed eyes, pushes forward. "You are the ones who arrived by ship. You....should not have left your boat without the Baron's permission. He will.....heh, wish to see you." He giggles nervously, then looks to the three others with him. "Please follow us. The Baron is in the midst of his hehehheheheh... dinner."
Dimma strokes the hairs of her beard, looking over the genasi for a moment, "Huh, strange... I didn't notice any magical effect. No, afraid he doesn't do much healing. But here, I've got something that should help you." She shoulders off her bag, setting it against the bottom of the rowboat with a solid thunk, digging around for a small flask. The red liquid inside shimmers slightly as she removes it, handing over a Potion of Healing. "Take a swig of that, should fix you right up."
As they step off onto the island, Dimma will recite the Detect Magic ritual to herself - partly to make double sure that there really was no magic effect to the mist.
"We are grateful for your escort," Tul says to the young man. "Please lead and we will follow."
Tul watches their escort as they move across the estate to the Baron's manor. The leader's mannerisms and words are unsettling but they don't appear to be overtly hostile
(Wist roll 2d4+2 to recover some hit points.)
Dimma, you cast Detect Magic but nothing really pings you right now -- the fog seems not to be magical in nature.
The guards lead you along the fence , and you notice that the other guards are speaking and gesturing at you in low voices. The house itself is remarkable, a truly magnificent major that would rival the finest houses in the capital of Keoland. Amidst the other driftwood shacks and makeshift dwellings on the island, it really stands out. The guards shuttle you to the main house. The three other guards remain outside, but the sallow leader escorts you personally into the manor -- the sheer opulence of it easily dwarfs even Gellan Primewater's home, giving you a sense of why perhaps the merchant prince was so dismissive of him.
He stops you all outside a large door carved from ornate black wood of some kind. "Just a moment, if you please." He smiles at you pleasantly enough, then enters the room, careful to shut the door behind him for a moment, then the door swings back open.
"Go on in. Baron Fortune is very, heh, excited to meet you."
As you step inside, you are treated to even more elegance. This is clearly the Baron's library, and every way is stacked from floor to ceiling with books of nearly every type and variety. The center figure, sitting at a circular table has skin so dark it is ebony in color, with closely cropped white hair. He has a neatly trimmed VanDyke mustache, and his eyes are an almost disconcertingly beautiful violet in color. The Baron is seated with a napkin around his neck -- the napkin stained almost scarlet. An array of meats are laid out on the table. He smiles broadly, flashing a mouth full of white teeth as you enter and approaches you, offering an elegantly gloved hand in greeting.
"Welcome, dear travelers, to Morningstar Island. I am so glad to have you here as visitors. It is a little curious," he says, looking at each of you slowly, "that we should have so many visitors here on our humble little domain all at once. No matter. All are welcome here." He goes back around and picks up some sort of meat, biting it and sending a rivulet of red liquid onto his napkin staring at you intensely as he chews.. "Are you seeking a home? Or are you on more...transient business?"
Gibson, ever smiling, throws his arms wide as he enters grandiosely. "Baron Fortune, I presume! It is the absolute honor of a lifetime to finally make your acquaintance!" He approaches and takes the Baron's hand in a hearty handshake. "The name's Gibson Lemonyellow, high priest of the First Church of Cumian and gallant governor of Gibson's Glorious Globetrotters. My friends call be 'Gib' so you can call me 'Gib.'" He takes a step back, hands on hips, and gives the man an appraising look. "Now I must say, Your Lordship, your presence is even more imposing... No, that's not the right word... 'Commanding,' yes that's it! Your presence is even more commanding than I was led to believe (and that's saying quite a lot). And your home?!" He looks around and gestures. "The design is a breath of fresh air amongst a tidal wave of architectural banality! A warm and welcoming oasis in a literal sea of...cold and...unpleasantness." Gibson's expression suddenly sobers. "Ah, but where are my manners? We have clearly caught you mid-repast! I'll get to the point so we can get out from under foot and let you digest in peace." The smile creeps back in as he begins to pace a bit in front of the group, hands clasped behind his back.
"My crew and I sail from Saltmarsh and come seeking information. I believe said information will be obtained at no small price and with no lack of danger from none other than the infamous captain of the Pale Prow, Ineca Sufocan himself!" Gibson raises a finger and briefly pauses for dramatic effect. "I recently acquired particulars which lead me to believe that he is currently concealed in one of your coveted coves. Now I, as a worldly and not completely inept denizen of Oerth, would, first and foremost, never dream of desecrating the sanctity and sovereignty of your sacred skerry by daring tread across it or conduct business in its waters except by first seeking an audience with the illustrious Baron Fortune himself!" He clicks his heels and gives a slight bow to the Baron before continuing. "Secondly, I would rather not approach a notoriously aggressive ghost ship for simple answers when common sense and, more importantly, courtesy would lead me to petition Your Lordship to request a civilized meeting with the captain instead!"
After a moment or two to let his words percolate, Gibson says, "Now, I come representing the powers that be in Saltmarsh. Your granting such an innocuous request would certainly go a long way to curry favor with the Council - those individuals directing trade as well as those with the ear of the king..." He leans forward slightly on the balls of his feet and raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly as he waits to gauge the response; his smile glistening in the light.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Healing potion: 8
Content to let Gibson do the talking, Wist takes the opportunity to look around the room, paying attention to the types of books that seem the least dusty, or the closest to the tops of chair-side tables or the like. Historical? Magical? Fiction? He also takes a deep inhale of the table of meats both out of hunger to fuel his re-knitting tendons, and to see if there's anything interesting about the cooking style he can tell from the smell, or that's obvious from the looks.
Perception if relevant: 13
or alternately Investigation: 14
Gib Persuasion: 23
Gib's flattery seems to have found a receptive audience in the Baron, and he relaxes visibly towards the end of the tiefling's spiel. He firmly plants his fork down, dabs his face (smearing some blood across his face) and then points at Gib and nods vigorously. "You flatter me, sir. Of course, everything you say happens to be true. I particularly appreciate your..." He licks his lips. "Good taste in furnishing. I have found that those who crave leadership desire to have those as their leaders who demonstrate an understanding of the finer things in our life." He takes another bite of his food. "Now as to Captain Sufocan, I am surprised as you are remarkably well-informed. I have a relationship with the Captain's patrons, one that is based upon shared interests." He looks at you all, slowly one by one. "The arrangement has been fruitful for me. That doesn't mean I am unwilling to consider the request. I just need to be assured you will win. I never back losers.. You may start to convince me, by sharing you sent you on this errand, and authorized you to speak on behalf of, as Mr. Gib has said, those who control trade in this part of the world and have the ear of the king. I have my suspicions, but it is always better to hear it from the source."
Wist, as you look around the room, you are above all deeply impressed by the surroundings. Even the garish Primewater mansion, which wears its ostentatiousness on its sleeve with gaudiness everywhere looks cheap in comparison to the finely decorated and tasteful setting you now find yourself in. Most of the books on the shelves are in languages you do not recognize, but the ones you DO recognize are very rate books, almost all dealing with arcane subjects -- the study of magic, monographs about the natures of fiends, books about ancient sources of power in Oerth; all and all, its a very esoteric library, and almost uniformly old and valuable.
As you try to get a sense of what the Baron is eating, the smell of raw meat hits your nostrils. Whatever the food is he's been eating, it has not been cooked.