The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh IC

[ybn1197]

The four of you have come to the small fishing town of Saltmarsh following vague rumors that there is work worthy of adventurers such as yourselves in the area. The rumors have not provided much information, merely that something is afoot and the townspeople are not capable of resolving it on their own. Towards that end, you each find yourself on the north side of the town. Numerous buildings sprawl out before you. To the east, a slight cliff breaks the northern side of the town from the beach and docks. The streets of the town are busy with the hustle and bustle of people going about their normal everyday lives.

[Mordae]

Ardwick plods along, scale mail clinking beneath the simple grey woolen robe that nearly matches his eyes and fading hair. "One would think that if outside aid were needed, the folk in town would be more forthcoming with information. City officials, merchants... no, what we need is a bard whose tongue we can pry loose with drink. A curious substance, alcohol--it is not called liquid courage without reason. Or perhaps an elderly man, eager to share his tales with any who will listen before he passes on to the planes above--or below. Either way, I counsel we seek a tavern." Despite his rapidly greying hair, the youthful priest has a gift for gab that might make some wonder if he himself secretly aspired to become a bard.

[hoverfrog]

Pythal Neiroma

"I do love the smell of the sea. What say we find a room at the local hostelry and ask around about these rumours. I'm sure that I can 'charm' my way into finding out some useful information." Pythal was genuinely youthful and hardly showed any of his 160 years. He'd served aboard ships for decades but now he wanted to stretch his sea legs and explore. Where better than this town with its rumours of trouble. A mystery was just what he needed.

[TomPokenutter]

Garret stays close to the center of the street, keeping an eye out for anything that looks promising, be it s job opportunity or a carelessly unguarded wallet. He stands roughly 3 and a half feet high, and dresses in a dark brown cloak. He wears an old, tattered glove on his left hand, but none on his right. He has short, dark brown hair, and blue eyes.

"If you want to look for taverns, I could always see about paying for it. Mind you, I would have to spend some time... ahem, acquiring the funds. Plus, I'd need to know more about this place. Specifically, about the people- do any of you know any more than I do about any of the various people and personalities around here? Anyone I should avoid like the plague?"

[hoverfrog]

Pythal Neiroma

"I'm afraid not, Garret. the elf slipped silently ahead with his halfling companion and spoke quietly for his ears alone, "I'm happy to help you acquire funds but maybe we should get the lay of the land first. We don't want to upset the wrong person." He'd learned to be cautious around the younger races on his travels. If there was an organised crime syndicate or guild here then he'd pay his dues rather than invite a knife in the dark.

[ybn1197]

As you stroll along the main thoroughfare of the town, you see an old building to the right of you. Above its door on a pole hangs a drooping wicker goat, its belly long since fallen into disrepair and allowing a family of pigeons to nest inside. By the condition of its walls, the building is obviously one of the older buildings in the town. And from the sound, as well as the odor, coming from inside, it is a oft-visited tavern.

[hoverfrog]

Pythal Neiroma

"Shall we?" Pythal is not too keen on entering such a dingy looking establishment but it doesn't seem that there are any alternatives. He holds the door open for his travelling companions and follows them in. Perhaps this might be a good place to open a bar, he thinks to himself, A front for some slightly suspect trade, some gambling to launder money, a good place to pick up rumours and pass on information back home. I just need someone with muscles for brains to control the riff raff and some capital investment.

[ybn1197]

The taproom is dank and dirty but this has failed to bring the spirits down of those who frequent it. A couple of sailors, most likely fresh off the docks, are at the counter downing mugs of ale like there is no tomorrow, their drunken outbursts the source of the sound you heard from outside. And though they are loud and boisterous, they are not being overly offensive.
There are a number of other locals scattered throughout the room, all seated at the large number of tables. As you entered, they look up from their mugs or plates and quickly take your measure before resuming whatever activities they were engaged in before your appearance.
The bartender, an older man of slim build and sparse hair, nods at you before continuing to wipe down the bar, an non-stop job given the antics of the drunken sailors.

[TomPokenutter]

Garret turns to the group.

"Alright, then, those sailors look promising to me. They're already a bit drunk, and may have some idea of the various goings on in this town. Anyone mind if I ask them?"

[Ildu]

Yazolin Hunduis

Yazolin follows Garret into the building, tossing a wink Pythal's way as she tosses a braid of silvery hair out of her face. At least he knows how to treat his superiors, she thinks. The strong smell of alcohol and lavishness appeals to Yazolin, causing the dark elf to smirk with a vaguely smug expression seeping through. "Now this is my kind of place. Enjoy fuddling away with the details, boys. I intend to indulge myself to some spirits. Perhaps one of you'd be as kind to join a lady?"

[hoverfrog]

Is she flirting with me? Pythal wonders to himself, No, that would be too strange. An elf and a dark elf.. Shaking these strange thoughts from his head he weaves his way to the bar. Garret could question the sailors but if anyone knows anything in this place it will be the man behind the bar. "Good day, sir," he begins suddenly wishing he had more money, "A bottle of house red and four glasses..er..cups, please. We're travellers in these parts. Is there any news of interest that you'd care to share? We've heard rumours of unusual happenings and have of course been drawn here to learn more and perhaps offer some assistance."

[TomPokenutter]

Garret approaches the sailors.

"Hello, there. I'm a traveler looking for work. I'm here with a small number of others, and we heard rumors about work being available here. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

[Mordae]

Ardwick sidles over to the bar and has a seat across from the tender. "Good day, sir. I've heard there may be trouble in these parts, the kind the local authorities don't care to invest themselves in. Any chance you know anything you could share with a group of inquiring adventurers?" He plucks a trio of silver pieces from his belt pouch and slides them across the damp, dented surface of the bar.

[ybn1197]

The bartender pauses in his work and looks at Pythal and Ardwick, taking their measure as he decides what to say in the way of a response. He looks over at Yazolin seated at a table and Garret at the other end of the bar with the two sailors. He places his hand over the three silver coins Ardwick placed on the bar and slides them closer to himself before nodding. In a low, conspiratorial voice he says, "Aye, we have had some unusual happenstances occurring in these parts. A couple of miles east of here, just inland of the old coast road and looking out to sea, stands the Haunted House. Until nie on twenty years ago it had been the residence of an aged alchemist/wizard of
sinister reputation, and even then had been shunned by reason of its owner’s mysterious occupations. Now, after the sudden and unexplained disappearance of its owner, the house is acquiring an even greater air of evil and mystery.
"Dilapidated and now long-abandoned, the house presents a mighty unwholesome appearance to the eye. Those hardy souls who have on infrequent occasion sought entry to it (for rumors of a secret hoard of alchemical gold have persisted since the old man’s disappearance) have all returned with naught save grim tales of decay presided over by monstrous perils. In more recent years there have been reports of fearsome hauntings - ghastly shrieks and eerie lights emanating from within the dismal place. Now not even the bravest dare so much as to approach the house, leave alone enter it. Indeed, such is the reputation of the house that the fields around it, though prime agricultural land, remain untended and rank with weeds."

[hoverfrog]

"Alchemical gold?" Pythal smiles to himself, "and the opportunity to help out a community in need. What more could a trusty band of heroes such as ourselves ask for? Tell me though, good barkeep, has anyone actually been there in recent months who could tell us the layout or what we might expect? An intrepid explorer perhaps?"

[ybn1197]

"No one around these parts. But rumor has it that the old poacher was in the house once a few years back. If you find him, you might be able to jar his addled mind enough to get a few fragments of useful information out of him."

[Mordae]

Ardwick nods with a sly wink. This was the sort of thing he expected from a good bartender--knowledge and the wisdom of when to share it. "I don't suppose you could point us in the direction of the old poacher, eh? Or know someone who could?"

[ybn1197]

The bartender shakes his head to Ardwick's question. "No, that old poacher comes and goes as he wants, and that's fine with most folk around here. Ain't no one that wants anything to do with him anyways. You may want to ask the constable. He knows more than anyone else where that old cote is."

[Ildu]

Yazolin sits at her table, ears pricked and interest piqued, attempting to look disinterested.
Low, hushed tones... it seems there is more to this dowdy little village than I expected, she thinks.

[hoverfrog]

"Is the good constable enjoying a night off tonight?" Pythal looks around as if he expects him to be standing close by, "No, would you tell us where we can find him, please." Someone in authority should be even more help that this bar has been.

[ybn1197]

"Aye," the bartender chuckles, "the good constable is off every night. Probably at home keeping the misses happy I'm sure. A shrew of a woman she is. Makes the deputy work the night so she can keep an eye on the mister when there are no lights for her to see by. You're going to have to wait till the morning to speak with him." The bartender continues to chuckle over the discussion of the constable.

[Mordae]

Ardwick laughs and takes in the faces of his newfound companions. "Well, my friends, it seems we are done for. There is nothing to do but find lodging and drink the night away!"

[hoverfrog]

"I'm happy to wait. There's no sense in going in blind at night when a nice sunny day would suit us better." Pythal asks about rooms and prices before settling down for the evening to eat and drink with his friends.

[ybn1197]

The bartender smiles and says "We have three means of accommodating you me lord. For a gold a night, we can give you the finest room in my establishment. For five silver, we have the regular accommodations, still fine just not as luxurious for yourselves I'm sure. Then, for a silver a night, and I dread saying it as I am sure it is too far beneath you, but there is the floor of this room after I close for the night."

[Mordae]

"I have slept on a hard cot and bare ground many a night, my friend, and another day's lack of comfort will not weigh heavily on my soul. I accept the floor." Ardwick pushes the last of his silver pieces across the bar, knowing he has but a single gold piece left to his name. That money could go far, enough for a week of meals and lodging, but the timely discovery of treasure would be most welcome.

[hoverfrog]

"Though I would dearly love the comfort of a room I fear that cost is more important that comfort tonight." Pythal really wants to spend out on a good room but it would only be a few days before he'd have no money left.

[Mordae]

Ardwick offers a glance over to where Garret and Yazolin are engaged in conversation with some of the sailors. Turning back to the bartender, he adds, "I cannot speak for our traveling companions but I will get you an answer anon." He stands from the stool where he had been perched, saunters across to where the dark elf and the rogue are chatting it up. "Hey there, you crashing on the floor tonight or getting a room? Bartender needs to know whether to hold a spot for you two."

[TomPokenutter]

Garret thinks carefully before shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm afraid I don't have enough money to make a room a wise purchase. I can take the floor."

[Ildu]

Yazolin furrows her brow at the thought of sleeping on the floor. That was for slaves and dogs, and she was certain that while only of slightly higher gold-value than working slaves, her companions were not dogs. She turns to Ardwick and speaks softly. "I am far from home and weary from the road, young man. I assume you are as well, so savor any comforts you will; this may be your last night in a warm bed, after all. Give this to the man." She reaches into a pouch at her thigh and hands Ardwick five gold coins sporting a spider over a web and returns to her mug.

[Mordae]

Ardwick's eyes widen and he clasps his hand tightly around the coins. With a quick nod, he heads back to the bar and sets a stack of four gold in front of the bartender. "Four rooms, please. How much for a bath for the dark-skinned lady?" He gestures back to where Yazolin stands.

[TomPokenutter]

Garret turns to Yazolin, trying to figure out what just happened, and how to respond. After a few seconds, he settles on "Thank you. If there's anything you need help with later on, just ask."

[ybn1197]

The bartender picks up the top coin and without peering at it too long, places it between his teeth and bites down. Satisfied with the give of the coin, he quickly pockets all the coins in a pocket under this apron. Smiling, he cheerfully says, "A hot bath is complimentary for the best rooms in the house. Let me know when you are ready and I will have the boy draw and heat the water for you."

Meanwhile, Garret is conversing with the sailors at the end of the bar.


"Hello, there. I'm a traveler looking for work. I'm here with a small number of others, and we heard rumors about work being available here. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

One of the sailors turns and nearly spills his ale on you, recovering at the last moment with a sigh of relief. "Work," he slurs, "why there is always work at the docks. Though you have to be this high to sign on." He holds his mug above Garret's head to indicate his joke and then gaffuws.

[Mordae]

"Very well; I suspect it shall be sometime after dinner." Turning to Pythal, he adds, "Time to find ourselves a table and take in a proper meal. And by proper, I mean with plenty of beer." He grins and pushes his way through the crowd to an empty spot with four chairs, waving at Garret and Yazolin to join the group.

[hoverfrog]

Pythal Neiroma

"Not too much beer though." Pythal smiles, "We don't all have human constitution, or the gods to protect us."

[Mordae]

"As you like it. I'll drink yours for you," the grey-haired young cleric responds with a gleeful grin as he flags down the server to order meals and drinks for the party.

OOC:
If you just want us to move on, GM, I'm fine with that. In keeping with Yaz's procurement of only the finest rooms, Ardwick plans to ask for the best meals and wines that a gold piece can buy.

[hoverfrog]

Pythal enjoys a couple of drinks, no more than half a bottle of wine and a few ales. After that he's ready to bed down in the expensive room. "Shall we leave at dawn?" he thought that an early start would be best and wanted to get up in time to memorise his spells before the sun rose.

[Ildu]

Yazolin is enjoying her drinks, but raises an eyebrow at the sailor's remark. She turns a head to Garret, wondering what his response will be. The dark elf keeps an eye on the sailors.

[TomPokenutter]

Garret thinks for a moment, before shrugging.

"Yeah, I know I'm not exactly built for that. Thing is, in most Halfling settlements, you'd be too tall to work at the docks, so I guess it's even... Sorry to have troubled you."

[Mordae]

Ardwick nods as he finishes off the foam from his ale. "Sounds best to me as well. Hopefully without any ugly scene erupting between Garret and the sailors. I'd hate to have to see Yaz eviscerate some dockhand just to make a point."

[hoverfrog]

In the morning Pythal learns Magic Missile in place of Charm Person and then goes to wake everyone else.

[Ildu]

Yazolin stretches after waking up in what she assumes is the bed of the inn she'd rented the night before. She takes a look around the room before looking for her equipment and fixing her hair.
Ugh... what a night, she mumbles to herself.

[TomPokenutter]

Garret pulls himself out of bed. He takes stock of the room around him, and starts thinking aloud.

"Okay, yeah, Saltmarsh. That Drow bought the room. Well, none of them have tried to slit my throat in the night. I wonder if I'm far enough from Greyhawk to breathe easy?"

He pauses a minute, and starts to think something over that he missed.

"Oh, gods, I owe a Drow a favor."

[Mordae]

Ardwick rises at first light and begins his usual ritual of prayer. It goes on for quite some time, and the young priest is just beginning the guttural chanting portion when Pythal knocks upon the door. Ardwick hastily spits out a few more harsh consonants and rises from his straw mat to answer the knock. He looks somewhat disheveled and out of sorts.

"What, we're leaving already? Hang on, let me get my things together."

The grey-haired young man closes the door in the wizard's face and hurries to don his armor and shove his belongings into his backpack, creating quite a clatter in the process. As soon as he's done, he swings the door and saunters out into the hall, taking on the air of confidence and swagger that is his customary style.