Chapter 1: A Brine-y Welcome

Our story begins in Saltmarsh, a nondescript fishing village tucked away on the southern coast of the Kingdom of Keoland. It has thrived as the surrounding kingdoms have waged wars, been left to prosper on its own. As such, it has bred an individually-minded people, unconcerned with the troubles of the larger nations they are dwarf to.

As conflicts have died down in Keoland, the crown has looked further south for prosperity once again: Saltmarsh being one of the first to catch the attention of local nobility. With the influx of soldiers and officials sent to Saltmarsh to ensure its prosperity in the years going forward, many of the people of the settlement fear losing their simple, unhindered livelihoods. Yet, Saltmarsh has never been as safe and prosperous as it is today. Surely, some good has come out of intervention by the crown.

Yet, tensions are high: several fishing crews have gone missing, or so local rumor says. Many demand that the crown dispatch a squadron of ships to track down those who kidnapped them. Some suspect it's a local group of pirates, known as the Sea Princes. Others, however discreetly, blame the crown's men who now hold station in Saltmarsh.

You all have been summoned to the Empty Net tavern in town by a man named Gellan Primewater, a well-spoken older gentleman who sits on Saltmarsh's town council. He is a staunch traditionalist, and doesn't believe that the crown's men in Saltmarsh can find the missing fishing crews. Rather, he suspects it's the king's men, and has contacted you all to get to the bottom of it. He promises more information upon meeting, but only as long as you all remain discreet.

 The Empty Net is partially supported by stilts driven into the harbor waters, this rickety tavern is purportedly a haven for smugglers, mercenaries, assassins and even pirates. Troublemakers are thrown out the door, over the railing, and into the reeking harbor by the tavern's proprietor every few days.

Describe your characters as you enter into the tavern, find a seat, and wait to meet with Gellan Primewater.

Wulgar Verthisathurgiesh walks into the Empty Net and smiles, looks comfortable here.  He is a 6 foot 4 inch, 250 lb red dragonborn, with a notched great axe slung over his back and a curled up whip at his waist.  He pulls up a seat at the bar, looking over his back and around the room, sizing it up.  "A Wyrmwizz ale if you have it.  And keep them coming.  Don't stick your thumb in the mug, give me a good pour.  I'll know if you don't."  He looks around the room and holds the gaze of everyone he sees a little too long, as if he's daring them to say spit to him.  The musty air in the tavern makes him sneeze, and inadvertently caused him to light the candle sitting on the bar.  "Arrgghe."  He wipes the clear snot out of his nose on the back of his pants and his mug.  "When's that Gellan Primewater fancy feller going to show up?  Can't sit around here all day.  Won't be able to walk out of here if I do."  After 2-3 rounds if there is a local song or jig he starts tapping his feet in time and getting into the swing of things, bellowing out a hearty laugh, all on his own.

Cora had just finished up her fishing for the day, tying her small 2 person boat to the docks and heading toward the Empty Net, as she does most nights. She usually heads a bit out into the ocean when fishing but has been sticking close to shore as of late due to the rumors of other fishers going missing. This has caused her to gather more of a fish stink than she might usually gather.

Cora is a halfling whom, standing at 3'1, couldn't be more than 45 pounds soaking wet. Her red/orange hair falls down to the middle of her back and is usually held out of her face by a band on her head. Her clothing is a mixture of tattered leather/cloth clothes, which barely cover her busty frame. On one side of her hip, her scimitar, which on this particular day is covered in fish blood, dangles by a poorly made sheath. On the other is a sling, dangling next to a sack.

As she walks into the tavern she takes a quick look around for an empty table. Seeing the Dragonborn at the bar, she decides a table is best. I haven't seen a Dragonborn here in a while. I wonder what he's doing here. She thinks to herself before finding an empty table. Looking toward the tavern owner, she holds up 1 finger, as if to signal for 1 of her usual drinks and waves it over. On a usual day, she'd just drink her troubles away, but today was different. She had recently talked with Gellen about the missing fishers, and having built a repor with some of them. She has offered her services to try and figure out what happened to them and has agreed to meet up here to discuss it further.

Lucille Underfoot throws open the doors of the Empty Net, and walks in with a level of confidence that seems to make her larger than her petite, 3-foot-nothing self. She surveys the crowd, sees the dragonborn and the other halfling woman, and decides to get a table of her own as well. "A mug of your finest ale," she says to the barmaid, placing down a silver piece. "And one on me for my halfling friend over there," she gestures to Cora.

Cora, shocked at the generosity of the halfling, will give a nod to her and await the drinks arrival. Cora was not used to this kind of generosity from other females, and always takes these types of gestures from strangers with a grain of salt, as they have a habit of not working out in her favor.

When the drink finally arrives, Cora will take a sip before making her way over to the other female halfling.

"Hello, stranger," Lucille says, holding out her hand. "My name is Lucille. Tell me yours and we won't have to be strangers anymore."

Cora eyes Lucille up and down, keeping her hard to herself. "Just got back from fishin', don't want ya to smell of that now. Name's Cora, nice to meet ya Lucille." Cora pauses for a second, takes a sip of her drink then continues. "Thanks for the drink, ya new to town?" (OOC: As Cora speaks, you can hear what sounds like a US Southern Accent).

"Oh, I've been through once or twice on my travels. And think nothing of it. The drink, I mean. In my experience, the tallfolk don't look out for us so much, so we've got to look out for each other, right?"

Cora, not one for relying on others since her time out on the ocean nods in agreement. "That I can drink to. To smallfolk!" she declares as she takes a big sip of her drink.

"To small folk!"  You are surprised when a large red Dragonborn joins in and sits at the table, slapping his beer onto the table and joining in your toast.  "Do you mind if I join you?"  (he looks a little buzzed, you can tell the longer he talks).  "You looked to be having the most interesting conversation, I wanted to join you.  Plus you are the best looking, er, women in this bar.  (He mutters under his breath something about being able to rest his beer on either of their heads.). What brings you here?  I'm waiting on this council man Gellan Primewater who has called a meeting, are either of you from here, do you know what he looks like?  My name is Wulgar by the way, just got off a stint on the Raw Oyster, pulled into the dock this morning.  Who might you be, if you don't mind me asking?"  He looks to both of you and gives you a big toothy grin.  

Cora gives the Dragonborn a look of annoyance. Having dealt with drunks before, her patience has become very little with them, however, hearing Gellens name, she decides to entertain him, and in a very proper, almost sarcastic tone says "Why thank ya sir. I very much appreciate the compliment, and yes, I am from around here. Actually have a small shack in town by the ocean. I too have been asked to meet Gellen here, however.." her tone quickly goes from proper to almost shear annoyance. "This asshat never told me what time, I ain't got all ****in' day."

Wulgar looks surprised at you, not expecting you to react like you did.  "My apologies miss.  Didn't mean to offend.  I agree with what you said though, I've been sitting over there getting well lubricated waiting for this "asshat" as you say.  You would recognize him though?  I hope this isn't a waste of time.  But it is good to perhaps meet a new friend.  What is your name, miss?"  Wulgar looks truly intrigued with you, having piqued his interest and curiosity.

Soon enough, a clean-shaven older gentlemen finds his way over to your shared table. His parted hair is a silvery-gray color, and his features are razor-sharp. He wears a gold-trimmed tunic, and his knee-high leather boots are polished exquisitely. For a town of smugglers and fishermen, this man definitely has wealth, power, or both. Even more so, he looks extremely out of place within the dingy old tavern known as the Empty Net. "What does he look like? Well, why don't you take a look for yourself." As the man takes a seat, he waves over to the barkeep. "Kreb! A drink for each of my friends here, plus an extra for when our fourth shows up."

The man gives a stern glance to you all, almost scrutinizing you for a moment, before his features soften. "Gellan Primewater. Simply Gellan, to friends. We are friends, yes?" An almost cunning smirk touches his features before he continues.

"I'm sure by now you've heard of the missing fishermen in town. I've tried to use my sway on the council to convince that stubborn arse Eliander to send his crown's fleet after the Sea Princes to no avail. The man says threats are more pressing in town, which leads me to believe something else may be amiss. I believe that he and the town's militia, corrupt as they are, are actually responsible for kidnapping the fishermen. I want you lot to investigate the guard in town, and possibly find some clues as to who in the militia kidnapped the fishers, and where they are now."

"Your work may not be lawful, however, if you do get into too much trouble, I can use my sway on the council to bail you out. At least, in the short term." He grunts, giving you all a moment to process before continuing.

"As for where to start searching, many guard patrols wander the port, checking in with different ships that come into harbor. Carousing there may fetch you some leads. Or, if you wish to be direct, you're welcome to poke your nose around the barracks in town. If you can come back with a solid lead, and can keep quiet about it, I'm more than willing to make it worth your while: both in coin, and in political favors within town. Are there any questions?"

"Why would the militia kidnap the fisherman, are they asking for ransom?  Or are there certain fishing crews that are "protected" so to speak, for a fee?  Do you have any ideas about why?"  Wulgar pauses to look him up and down, appraising him.  He barely got the "asshat" comment out before his nibs sat down and he wonders if he was heard.  "It's nice to meet you, Gellan.  My name is Wulgar, and if you need some ass whooped in town, I'm your man.  For the right price."  He shifts his big toothy grin to Gellan and squeezes the coils of the whip at his side, giving a leathery squeaking sound from it.  

Cora watches as Gellan walks over and sits down. "Geez Gellan, ya made me wait long enough did ya." She quickly changes topic to the problem at hand. "You and I both know that the guard, if they are involved, aren't going to tell us shit. They were barely helpful when my boat sprung a leak and we're expecting to get answers from them? I do agree though that this reeks of the guards... Pirates..." she pauses for a moment before continuing "Pirates don't USUALLY kidnap, and if they do, not over and over in one place. This definitely won't be easy."

Thom would have walked in with Gellan.  He looks familiar from some where, no... no he does, well... maybe he does. Thom is average height, and just over average build for a human. He has dirty blond hair and a clean shave, in a crowd he would not stick out.  That's why he looks so familiar he looks like just about everyone, and no one.  Average, that's it he looks average.  Out side of the chainmail armor that is covered by a tabors of some kind, a crest that once was there is ripped off.  His shield has layer and layer of paint on it, parts chipped off of it, and finding a emblem on it would be impossible.

Thom would stay standing at Gellan side even though he was sitting.

"There's worse than pirates out there," Lucille says mournfully. "Could be slavers... I'm Lucille, Lucille Underfoot, and I will gladly help your cause," she says with determination in her voice.

Gellan will give an approving nod to Lucille. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. Whatever the cause, it threatens our peaceful life here in Saltmarsh."

He'll turn to Thom, giving a nod as he enters in alongside. "Have a drink, Thom. Don't look too rigid, we're with good company."

Then, he'll answer questions one by one, referring to Wulgar first. "Destabilizing the peace. Our town was perfectly fine before the Crown stuck its corrupt fingers in our business. They want to drain us of our coin, and are willing to dispose of anyone who gets in their way. Odds are, the fishermen were smuggling wares the Crown deemed 'illicit', and had them removed. Our jail in town is a laughing stock, so they've likely been taken elsewhere. No trial. No nothing."

He turns to Cora next. "Aye, I can agree with you. Though, with enough cunning or brawn, you might be able to get a story out of someone. The townsfolk don't want to talk to people who look like they might be with the crown, which is where most of you come in. I've taken on Thom since he's come to town, and if you lot dress him up, perhaps he could be an entrance into conversation with guards."

"I'm willing to pay 200 gold for a good lead. The only catch is that this information stays between you and me. Are there any other questions?"

Cora, taking in all the information will look toward the others before going back to Gellan. "I'm all set. Talk to guards, figure out where fishers went. Sounds simple enough to me. "

Wulgar says "Sounds good.  Straightforward.  I like it.  I like straightforward."  He looks to Thom, "Nice to meet you, my name is Wulgar.  Looks like we will be working together."  He then turns to the two ladies and says "I still don't know your names.  Like to keep it mysterious, eh?  Well, it looks like we will be working together, so I need to know what to call you, not just "Thing 1" and "Thing 2."  Perhaps you gals can try to talk or convince the information out of the guards, and if that doesn't work, me and old Thom here will have to squeeze it out of them.  Ha ha hah!"  And he ends with a big thump on the table, quaffing down another mouthful of ale.