Hugh will stumble out the door with a final wave of thanks to Lankus as he does. Afterwards he will return to his place of residence in the town wherever it may be.
Arvastan lingers in the bar for a while before wandering off to his usual place on the shore, settling easily among the tide pools and seaweed for his usual four hour trance.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Sleep comes, eventually for all of you, the rythmic patter of rain soothing your troubled minds as thoughts of the haunted manor you are set to explore get pushed aside for the moment.
The morning sees a marked difference in Saltmarsh. The gloomy weather has moved on and sun appears once more. With the sun and morning, the town becomes a bustling hub of activity. You all rise, eat your breakfast (Dimma in particular, has a lovely spread available to her at the baker's guild), and make your way to Council Hall, one of the oldest buildings in town.
(Feel free to add any business you have before your trip to the Council Chambers.)
DM Screen
42
An imposing massive building made to look like a whaling vessel, the Council Hall is where Saltmarsh's most esteemed citizens guide the town's future. Entering the building, you immediately hear a blazing row coming from one of the offices. Walking by, you see Skerrin, the elf you are to meet, with two humans. The larger is a fat, balding man with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee and is dressed in some of the finest clothes you've ever seen in Saltmarsh. The other, a woman, is very attractive, with pale skin and dark hair worn in a very long braid. She is dressed in hides and leathers and clearly looks as though she can handle herself. Arvastan -- you recognize her as Eda Oweland, the leader of the Oweland family, and owner of the largest fleet of fishing vessels in the kingdom. Her family had given you a fair amount of work over the generations. You are able to catch a bit of their conversation before they notice the group.
"I daresay that child has gone too far this time, Skerrin," The fat dandyish looking man says, waving a beefy finger in front of the elf, his voice very langorous, and despite the volume, he still manages to sound bored.
"Your master is fecking idiot, Skerrin,"Eda mutters bitterly. "He should play with his little toys and leave Saltmarshers to handle our own problems."
The elf flicks his eyes over to you and the man and woman look over and an uncomfortable silence falls over the room. "We will continue this discussion later, Councilors. Please show yourself out."
As they leave Eda gives Arvastan a brief nod. "Arvastan you old bastard." She says, affectionately."Heard you were in port. A bit hurt you didn't pop in and see my da. He'd be tickled if you'd visit." Looking over her shoulder at Skerrin, her expression hardens. "Keep an eye on this lot. Bunch of fecking mother hens that know Saltmarsh about as well as a owlbear knows the ocean. Idiots."
The man besides her moves a bit more gracefully, and though he remains silent, he appraises you all with some interest, then nodding to himself, follows Eda out.
Skerrin is already in the midst of counting out gold and puts five pouches onto his desk as you approach. "I am sorry you had to see that. The political situation here at the moment is on a knife's edge. Some people truly refuse to believe that Lord Anders has the best interests of Saltmarsh at heart. He is a good man, which some on this Council find difficult to understand." Skerrin says softly. "And he can be a great man too, someday. Anyway, here is a small retainer for each of you, as promised. 10 gold each for any supplies. Non-negotiable." His cold blue eyes stare down Gib as he says this. "If there is anything else, please let me know. Lord Anders is presiding over a hanging today, and there is a great deal of work that must be put into it. It is his first... one of these in his new role, so you can understand his apprehension."
Tul accepts the pouch with the coins, not sure what she will do with them right now. Her mother could make good use of them though, she thinks. Her thoughts quickly take a different turn at the mention of the hanging.
"If I may ask, what did this person do that is being hanged?" she asks Skerrin.
"Aye, I'd gotten that feeling," Arvastan agrees with Eda, peering over Skerrin. Then his expression turns somewhat sheepish and he offers a rare genuine smile. "Meant to get by to see the family yesterday, but got caught up with this lot," he gestures towards his companions. "I'll pop in soon, Eda, my word on it." He owed them that much, for all that seeing them all age always bordered on uncomfortable. Still, he loved them dearly and had every intention of making it in to visit before he left port again.
Once Eda and her companion have left, he turns to Skerrin, accepting his 10 gold with no argument. He doesn't comment on whether the little lordling actually has Saltmarsh's best interests at heart - everyone has an opinion on the matter, but it wasn't worth arguing to Arvastan. The lordling's actions would show his worth, or they wouldn't, and Saltmarsh would move on as it always has. He was interested in how Skerrin would answer Tul's question, though, and listened closely while he poked through the pouch, pretending to carefully count the gold.
Dimma wakes up just before dawn, as she usually does, starting off the day with a meditative prayer facing a figurette of the dwarven god Moradin. In her lap she holds her warhammer, reciting Moradin's blessing of the forge over the weapon, radiant light streaks through the weapon in pulses. The weapon returning to it's normal appearance once the blessing is complete. She spends the rest of the morning before breakfast gathering up a pack and collecting a solid steel shield with the image of a hammer striking an anvil stamped into the front.
She leaves the guildhall to meet up with the others at the council chambers, taking the 10gp purse without any issue. She waits intently for the rest of the group near the door, watching for prying ears and eyes.
Skerrin's eyes's flick up to look at Tul now, and he makes something of a show of placing down the quill he was writing with and sorting the papers on his desk.
"Ah, here it is. Rather sad case of corruption. Vitus Tempestossed, second in command of the city guard, has been selling internal guard intelligence to smugglers. Dates and locations of raids, personal addresses for certain guardsmen, and a complete disregard for the sanctity of his role. Captain Eliander is carrying out this execution personally. That should help Anders get through this." Skerring hesitates as he says this, then looks back up at you and closes the folder.
"But you need not worry about that, of course. The Dilpas Manor has been a source of rumor and innuendo for decades. Even if you don't find any ghostly occurrences or a Sea Prince outpost, it is good that you agreed to do this. Investors need to feel comfortable in Saltmarsh. And that means leaving the past behind, painful as that may be.
The house is four miles north of town, along the main road. If you can bring back proof of the wizard Dilpas's fate and we will consider the contract fulfilled and you receive the rest of your payment."
The elf looks out the window, where the Commons in front of the Council building is being prepared for the execution. "Thank you for your assistance. Whatever you think of Lord Anders or myself, I believe we can all agree the Sea Princes represent the greatest threat to Saltmarsh. Alive or dead, if this wizard is aiding them, it can only be a good thing if his malign influence is removed. And at the very least, this will make your name to all in Saltmarsh who fear this house."
He stands abruptly. "Now if you excuse me, I need to finish that conversation with Councillors Oweland and Primewater before the Royal Councillor arrives. It is best, I think to present a united front given the events of today."
Tul nods her thanks to Skerrin and joins the others leaving the offices.
She has no reason to believe the guardsman who is to be executed is innocent of his crimes, but something doesn't ring right in her mind. Whether or not capital punishment was correct was not what not what was bothering her. Her father often argued with her mother about that. He did not see how you could govern through killing and her mother did not see how you could govern without it.
Turning to the others, she asks "Please excuse my ignorance, but Skerrin said that the guard captain would carry out the execution personally. That makes me think that this is a rare occurrence. Is that correct? When was the last time something like this has happened? And yet, he pretended like he did not know the details of the case. He had to read them off of a piece of paper. Perhaps it is just me, but that seems . . . odd."
For those of you who are newer to Saltmarsh, you've received notices from the local guard upon your arrival that those involved in smuggling would receive zero tolerance an penalties up to and including execution. This execution is the first one you've heard of in your time here. Hugh and Arvastan, as the two who know Saltmarsh best (and are involved, even peripherally in some of the town's seamier aspects), Saltmarsh has only rarely resorted to executions -- and then only for Sea Princes who were involved in the slave trade. Regular run of the mill smuggling and even piracy are very much seen as victimless crimes and many of the older families of Saltmarsh (The Owelands included) made their fortunes from smuggling. The change in policy is motivated by the arrival of King Skotti's people -- particularly Lord Anders, the Royal Councilor, and Manistrad Copperlocks, who has also been given a seat upon the COuncil.
"I am sure I am seeing things that are not there," Tul says as the group leaves the offices. "But I would expect that if the guard captain carrying out the execution personally was noteworthy and that the guilty was the second in command of the guard, that Skerrin would have known immediately who was to be hanged. It felt like he wanted us to think it was just a minor thing and not to take too much interest in it."
She goes quiet for a moment.
"But, I have never lived in a town nor have had to deal with government officials," at least not in their offices she thinks to herself. They act differently when a captive on the deck of a ship. "Perhaps this is normal."
"Nah, it's odd," Arvastan confirms, looking over at Tul. "Been here a long time, and smugglin' and piracy were never punished so severely as resortin' to execution." He sighs, frowning. "Used to, only slavery was a hangin' crime, and only the Sea Princes were ever accused of that," he says, making a note to bring it up with Eda and the family later; they would know more of the changes brought about, and given his recent -and not-so-recent- history with piracy, Arvastan didn't want to be caught unawares and end up in the hangman's noose himself.
"Things have changed since I was last at port," he notes, unhappy with the idea. The little lordling and his people were bringing changes the folks of Saltmarsh were not likely to take to with any ease. "Once we take care 'o this Manor problem, I've got some folk to talk to."
Gibson snatches his bag of gold with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. He tosses it once, feeling its weight with a practiced hand, and pockets it, knowing its exact contents. He winks once and nods at Skerrin as he turns back to the group, stretching both arms out to herd everyone toward the door and putting a hand over the shoulders of Tul and Arvastan as he walks with them. He looks to both in turn and begins, "Now, I'll be the first to admit that hanging bodies out to dry doesn't sit well with me, what with the deeply spiritual nature of my chosen lifestyle and all that mess. But listen, I'm reminded of my recent concurrent wanderings and musings of yestereve in which I received an epiphanic revelation: No one in their right mind wonders overlong at the makings of the sausage they have recently ingested. I might postulate further that, in fact, no one in their right mind looks overclose at the reasonings and machinations behind laws and politics without a substantial payout hanging in the balance. Now you might be thinking to yourselves, 'But Gib, these are real people's lives we're talking about here and not some trivial or abstract regulation,' and you'd be absolutely, one hundred percent correct. But let me tell you something brethren, as one who has ended up on the wrong side of the law once or twice for standing up for my religious convictions," he puts a hand to his chest and feigns sincerity for that last bit, "I can confidently say that we'd do well to see to the job we're being paid for and keep our heads down such that they are not suddenly moved an inch further from our shoulders."
He steps out in front of the group as they leave the room. "Now, partners, I've never been one for visiting local haunted houses as I typically find that sort of thing unnerving and distasteful. However we are getting paid quite well to perform this ridiculous task. As such, who among you can lead ol' Gib to this 'Dimples Manor' or whathaveyou so that we can get this over with, collect what is owed us, and be on our way?"
Arvastan carefully removes Gib's hand from his shoulder with a clear warning look, shifting away from the man's close presence with an air of distaste, though he doesn't even attempt to argue with him, as he's apparently formed the opinion that it's akin to uselessly banging his head against a stone and there are many more useful things to be doing.
"I've got no patience for smugglers, but when you're in a position of power like that to sell that off to pirates of all people--" Dimma says, growing passionate before abruptly cutting herself off before letting her emotions get the best of her. She continues, more quietly and deathly serious, "It's traitorous and cowardly; sounds like he got what was coming for him."
She shakes her head while looking to the ground, "Tiefling's right, let's get a move on. We're no politicians; lets let the crown have its justice and get on with our work. Four miles along the north road, was it? If we get going now we'll get there in an hour and a half. If we've no more business to take care of I say we get moving as soon as possible, I'd like to get back before dark."
Tul nods along to what Dimma says. It's difficult to put what she is feeling into words. Despite her belief that you should not rule through killing, that was not what was bothering her. She couldn't shake the feeling that what was happening might not be completely as it seems. But how does one describe something that is barely an idea. Best to let that stew in her mind for awhile.
She watches their surroundings as they walk north, habit more than anything else
As you leave the Council chambers, you see a few interested townsfolk, mostly local teenagers, who seem eager to follow you to the manor. They keep their distance, but a few of them pepper you with questions -- "Aren't you scared? My ma says there's a werewolf in there that feeds on those that stay out late at night." comes one youngish voice. Another voice, cracking as it speaks, counters that "Nah! Didn't you ever talk to Staroz? Dilpas turned himself into some sort of vampire lord to gain the love of a woman! Made a unholy agreement with the Dark Lords to give himself immortality. They say he's trying to lure her to the house.
The walk itself is quite pleasant. The road to the house winds through coastal rocky terrain, often offering a view of the scene below, where fishing vessels trawl the shallows, and further out, whaling vessels approach Saltmarsh. For many of you, the view of the sea feels like home. Low clouds press upon you, but sunlight breaks through regularly, making the weather mild and comfortable. A stiff breeze blows in off the waves, the heavy briny smell of saltwater stinging your nostrils in a familiar way.
More and more of the teenagers fall off nervously the closer you get to Dilpas Manor. The decrepit house sits on the edge of the cliffside, Around it, an ornately built stone wall has begun to crumble from neglect. A beautiful wrought-iron gates swings open wildly in front of you, and gives a glimpse of the wild flora that has overgrown the once well-tended gardens of the ground.
Near the house, behind a part of the stone wall that has crumbled reveals a rotten wooden roof of what may be a small shed or well near the main house.
(We'll wait for Hugh and Arvastan to check in to see if they have anything else to accomplish and move to the morning.)
Hugh will stumble out the door with a final wave of thanks to Lankus as he does. Afterwards he will return to his place of residence in the town wherever it may be.
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
Arvastan lingers in the bar for a while before wandering off to his usual place on the shore, settling easily among the tide pools and seaweed for his usual four hour trance.
No Longer ActiveSleep comes, eventually for all of you, the rythmic patter of rain soothing your troubled minds as thoughts of the haunted manor you are set to explore get pushed aside for the moment.
The morning sees a marked difference in Saltmarsh. The gloomy weather has moved on and sun appears once more. With the sun and morning, the town becomes a bustling hub of activity. You all rise, eat your breakfast (Dimma in particular, has a lovely spread available to her at the baker's guild), and make your way to Council Hall, one of the oldest buildings in town.
(Feel free to add any business you have before your trip to the Council Chambers.)
DM Screen
42
An imposing massive building made to look like a whaling vessel, the Council Hall is where Saltmarsh's most esteemed citizens guide the town's future. Entering the building, you immediately hear a blazing row coming from one of the offices. Walking by, you see Skerrin, the elf you are to meet, with two humans. The larger is a fat, balding man with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee and is dressed in some of the finest clothes you've ever seen in Saltmarsh. The other, a woman, is very attractive, with pale skin and dark hair worn in a very long braid. She is dressed in hides and leathers and clearly looks as though she can handle herself. Arvastan -- you recognize her as Eda Oweland, the leader of the Oweland family, and owner of the largest fleet of fishing vessels in the kingdom. Her family had given you a fair amount of work over the generations. You are able to catch a bit of their conversation before they notice the group.
"I daresay that child has gone too far this time, Skerrin," The fat dandyish looking man says, waving a beefy finger in front of the elf, his voice very langorous, and despite the volume, he still manages to sound bored.
"Your master is fecking idiot, Skerrin," Eda mutters bitterly. "He should play with his little toys and leave Saltmarshers to handle our own problems."
The elf flicks his eyes over to you and the man and woman look over and an uncomfortable silence falls over the room. "We will continue this discussion later, Councilors. Please show yourself out."
As they leave Eda gives Arvastan a brief nod. "Arvastan you old bastard." She says, affectionately. "Heard you were in port. A bit hurt you didn't pop in and see my da. He'd be tickled if you'd visit." Looking over her shoulder at Skerrin, her expression hardens. "Keep an eye on this lot. Bunch of fecking mother hens that know Saltmarsh about as well as a owlbear knows the ocean. Idiots."
The man besides her moves a bit more gracefully, and though he remains silent, he appraises you all with some interest, then nodding to himself, follows Eda out.
Skerrin is already in the midst of counting out gold and puts five pouches onto his desk as you approach. "I am sorry you had to see that. The political situation here at the moment is on a knife's edge. Some people truly refuse to believe that Lord Anders has the best interests of Saltmarsh at heart. He is a good man, which some on this Council find difficult to understand." Skerrin says softly. "And he can be a great man too, someday. Anyway, here is a small retainer for each of you, as promised. 10 gold each for any supplies. Non-negotiable." His cold blue eyes stare down Gib as he says this. "If there is anything else, please let me know. Lord Anders is presiding over a hanging today, and there is a great deal of work that must be put into it. It is his first... one of these in his new role, so you can understand his apprehension."
Tul accepts the pouch with the coins, not sure what she will do with them right now. Her mother could make good use of them though, she thinks. Her thoughts quickly take a different turn at the mention of the hanging.
"If I may ask, what did this person do that is being hanged?" she asks Skerrin.
"Aye, I'd gotten that feeling," Arvastan agrees with Eda, peering over Skerrin. Then his expression turns somewhat sheepish and he offers a rare genuine smile. "Meant to get by to see the family yesterday, but got caught up with this lot," he gestures towards his companions. "I'll pop in soon, Eda, my word on it." He owed them that much, for all that seeing them all age always bordered on uncomfortable. Still, he loved them dearly and had every intention of making it in to visit before he left port again.
Once Eda and her companion have left, he turns to Skerrin, accepting his 10 gold with no argument. He doesn't comment on whether the little lordling actually has Saltmarsh's best interests at heart - everyone has an opinion on the matter, but it wasn't worth arguing to Arvastan. The lordling's actions would show his worth, or they wouldn't, and Saltmarsh would move on as it always has. He was interested in how Skerrin would answer Tul's question, though, and listened closely while he poked through the pouch, pretending to carefully count the gold.
No Longer Active(Mobile)
Dimma wakes up just before dawn, as she usually does, starting off the day with a meditative prayer facing a figurette of the dwarven god Moradin. In her lap she holds her warhammer, reciting Moradin's blessing of the forge over the weapon, radiant light streaks through the weapon in pulses. The weapon returning to it's normal appearance once the blessing is complete. She spends the rest of the morning before breakfast gathering up a pack and collecting a solid steel shield with the image of a hammer striking an anvil stamped into the front.
She leaves the guildhall to meet up with the others at the council chambers, taking the 10gp purse without any issue. She waits intently for the rest of the group near the door, watching for prying ears and eyes.
High will take the pouch of gold before hefting his greataxe. “Well, what’re we waitin’ for. Let’s go earn some easy dough,” he grunts.
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
Skerrin's eyes's flick up to look at Tul now, and he makes something of a show of placing down the quill he was writing with and sorting the papers on his desk.
"Ah, here it is. Rather sad case of corruption. Vitus Tempestossed, second in command of the city guard, has been selling internal guard intelligence to smugglers. Dates and locations of raids, personal addresses for certain guardsmen, and a complete disregard for the sanctity of his role. Captain Eliander is carrying out this execution personally. That should help Anders get through this." Skerring hesitates as he says this, then looks back up at you and closes the folder.
"But you need not worry about that, of course. The Dilpas Manor has been a source of rumor and innuendo for decades. Even if you don't find any ghostly occurrences or a Sea Prince outpost, it is good that you agreed to do this. Investors need to feel comfortable in Saltmarsh. And that means leaving the past behind, painful as that may be.
The house is four miles north of town, along the main road. If you can bring back proof of the wizard Dilpas's fate and we will consider the contract fulfilled and you receive the rest of your payment."
The elf looks out the window, where the Commons in front of the Council building is being prepared for the execution. "Thank you for your assistance. Whatever you think of Lord Anders or myself, I believe we can all agree the Sea Princes represent the greatest threat to Saltmarsh. Alive or dead, if this wizard is aiding them, it can only be a good thing if his malign influence is removed. And at the very least, this will make your name to all in Saltmarsh who fear this house."
He stands abruptly. "Now if you excuse me, I need to finish that conversation with Councillors Oweland and Primewater before the Royal Councillor arrives. It is best, I think to present a united front given the events of today."
He starts to usher you all towards the door.
Tul nods her thanks to Skerrin and joins the others leaving the offices.
She has no reason to believe the guardsman who is to be executed is innocent of his crimes, but something doesn't ring right in her mind. Whether or not capital punishment was correct was not what not what was bothering her. Her father often argued with her mother about that. He did not see how you could govern through killing and her mother did not see how you could govern without it.
Turning to the others, she asks "Please excuse my ignorance, but Skerrin said that the guard captain would carry out the execution personally. That makes me think that this is a rare occurrence. Is that correct? When was the last time something like this has happened? And yet, he pretended like he did not know the details of the case. He had to read them off of a piece of paper. Perhaps it is just me, but that seems . . . odd."
For those of you who are newer to Saltmarsh, you've received notices from the local guard upon your arrival that those involved in smuggling would receive zero tolerance an penalties up to and including execution. This execution is the first one you've heard of in your time here. Hugh and Arvastan, as the two who know Saltmarsh best (and are involved, even peripherally in some of the town's seamier aspects), Saltmarsh has only rarely resorted to executions -- and then only for Sea Princes who were involved in the slave trade. Regular run of the mill smuggling and even piracy are very much seen as victimless crimes and many of the older families of Saltmarsh (The Owelands included) made their fortunes from smuggling. The change in policy is motivated by the arrival of King Skotti's people -- particularly Lord Anders, the Royal Councilor, and Manistrad Copperlocks, who has also been given a seat upon the COuncil.
"I am sure I am seeing things that are not there," Tul says as the group leaves the offices. "But I would expect that if the guard captain carrying out the execution personally was noteworthy and that the guilty was the second in command of the guard, that Skerrin would have known immediately who was to be hanged. It felt like he wanted us to think it was just a minor thing and not to take too much interest in it."
She goes quiet for a moment.
"But, I have never lived in a town nor have had to deal with government officials," at least not in their offices she thinks to herself. They act differently when a captive on the deck of a ship. "Perhaps this is normal."
"Nah, it's odd," Arvastan confirms, looking over at Tul. "Been here a long time, and smugglin' and piracy were never punished so severely as resortin' to execution." He sighs, frowning. "Used to, only slavery was a hangin' crime, and only the Sea Princes were ever accused of that," he says, making a note to bring it up with Eda and the family later; they would know more of the changes brought about, and given his recent -and not-so-recent- history with piracy, Arvastan didn't want to be caught unawares and end up in the hangman's noose himself.
"Things have changed since I was last at port," he notes, unhappy with the idea. The little lordling and his people were bringing changes the folks of Saltmarsh were not likely to take to with any ease. "Once we take care 'o this Manor problem, I've got some folk to talk to."
No Longer Active“Yup,” Hugh laments to seemingly no one. “What has the world come to these days.”
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 snatches his bag of gold with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. He tosses it once, feeling its weight with a practiced hand, and pockets it, knowing its exact contents. He winks once and nods at Skerrin as he turns back to the group, stretching both arms out to herd everyone toward the door and putting a hand over the shoulders of Tul and Arvastan as he walks with them. He looks to both in turn and begins, "Now, I'll be the first to admit that hanging bodies out to dry doesn't sit well with me, what with the deeply spiritual nature of my chosen lifestyle and all that mess. But listen, I'm reminded of my recent concurrent wanderings and musings of yestereve in which I received an epiphanic revelation: No one in their right mind wonders overlong at the makings of the sausage they have recently ingested. I might postulate further that, in fact, no one in their right mind looks overclose at the reasonings and machinations behind laws and politics without a substantial payout hanging in the balance. Now you might be thinking to yourselves, 'But Gib, these are real people's lives we're talking about here and not some trivial or abstract regulation,' and you'd be absolutely, one hundred percent correct. But let me tell you something brethren, as one who has ended up on the wrong side of the law once or twice for standing up for my religious convictions," he puts a hand to his chest and feigns sincerity for that last bit, "I can confidently say that we'd do well to see to the job we're being paid for and keep our heads down such that they are not suddenly moved an inch further from our shoulders."
He steps out in front of the group as they leave the room. "Now, partners, I've never been one for visiting local haunted houses as I typically find that sort of thing unnerving and distasteful. However we are getting paid quite well to perform this ridiculous task. As such, who among you can lead ol' Gib to this 'Dimples Manor' or whathaveyou so that we can get this over with, collect what is owed us, and be on our way?"
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Arvastan carefully removes Gib's hand from his shoulder with a clear warning look, shifting away from the man's close presence with an air of distaste, though he doesn't even attempt to argue with him, as he's apparently formed the opinion that it's akin to uselessly banging his head against a stone and there are many more useful things to be doing.
No Longer ActiveAt the same time as Arvastan, Tul removes Gib's other arm for her shoulder, and checks her pouch to make sure everything is still there.
"I believe Hugh likely knows where we are headed," Tul says.
For some reason she hoped that they would determine what was going on at the manor before the hanging took place.
"I've got no patience for smugglers, but when you're in a position of power like that to sell that off to pirates of all people--" Dimma says, growing passionate before abruptly cutting herself off before letting her emotions get the best of her. She continues, more quietly and deathly serious, "It's traitorous and cowardly; sounds like he got what was coming for him."
She shakes her head while looking to the ground, "Tiefling's right, let's get a move on. We're no politicians; lets let the crown have its justice and get on with our work. Four miles along the north road, was it? If we get going now we'll get there in an hour and a half. If we've no more business to take care of I say we get moving as soon as possible, I'd like to get back before dark."
Tul nods along to what Dimma says. It's difficult to put what she is feeling into words. Despite her belief that you should not rule through killing, that was not what was bothering her. She couldn't shake the feeling that what was happening might not be completely as it seems. But how does one describe something that is barely an idea. Best to let that stew in her mind for awhile.
She watches their surroundings as they walk north, habit more than anything else
As you leave the Council chambers, you see a few interested townsfolk, mostly local teenagers, who seem eager to follow you to the manor. They keep their distance, but a few of them pepper you with questions -- "Aren't you scared? My ma says there's a werewolf in there that feeds on those that stay out late at night." comes one youngish voice. Another voice, cracking as it speaks, counters that "Nah! Didn't you ever talk to Staroz? Dilpas turned himself into some sort of vampire lord to gain the love of a woman! Made a unholy agreement with the Dark Lords to give himself immortality. They say he's trying to lure her to the house.
The walk itself is quite pleasant. The road to the house winds through coastal rocky terrain, often offering a view of the scene below, where fishing vessels trawl the shallows, and further out, whaling vessels approach Saltmarsh. For many of you, the view of the sea feels like home. Low clouds press upon you, but sunlight breaks through regularly, making the weather mild and comfortable. A stiff breeze blows in off the waves, the heavy briny smell of saltwater stinging your nostrils in a familiar way.
More and more of the teenagers fall off nervously the closer you get to Dilpas Manor. The decrepit house sits on the edge of the cliffside, Around it, an ornately built stone wall has begun to crumble from neglect. A beautiful wrought-iron gates swings open wildly in front of you, and gives a glimpse of the wild flora that has overgrown the once well-tended gardens of the ground.
Near the house, behind a part of the stone wall that has crumbled reveals a rotten wooden roof of what may be a small shed or well near the main house.
WELCOME TO DILPAS MANOR. What do you do?