Sunset over Riddleport, home to pirates and theives, intersection of sea and mountains, crossroads of Shoanti, elf, and Varisian cultures, long shadows stretch from the Calphiak Mountians over the city to expire on the ridge east of town. Above the sky is still a rich blue and the clouds gleam white. To the south the harbor is a metallic grey, lightening as it sweeps through the arch of the Cyphergate to the horizon until it rivals the azure sky. Even the Blot, the dark cloud that has hung over the city for months is gone today.
At zenith a star blossoms, barely visible, small, only as bright as the moon, but growing rapidly in brightness and intensity. In a heartbeat it's as big as the sun and as bright and it seems inevitable that it must impact Riddleport. Another heartbeat and it's angling south of Riddleport. It disappears for an instant behind the Cyphergate then strikes the ocean on the horizon between the legs of the great arching artifact. A plume of dust rockets skyward.
The wind slowly tugs at the top and middle of the plume, spinning it out into a gauzy brown lace across the face of the clouds.
A crowd soon gathers on the waterfront. People are staring out at the sea and starting to talk about the great falling star and what it might portend when they are treated to new wonders. With a sudden rising motion the ground shakes. A massive thunder-like boom cuts through the dull rumble of the earthquake. The water level in the harbor drops rapidly. Many ship's keel ground. Below the oldest docks a massive hoary bunyip is left exposed on the mud and rock bottom as are many fish. Water stands in the main channel but the shallows are left bare.
Bunyip - like a leopard seal on steroids.
Know(nature) DC 20:
Startled by a sudden premonition, Tyrrol looks-up from his desk in the Cypher Mages' library, where he has been researching the Blot, and the potential Doom that it portends.
As the night sky momentarily fills with noon-day sunlight, he rushes to a window to glimpse the falling star, and reflexively pops open his pocket-watch to check the time.
Could it be...?
Snapping the watch case shut, he runs out of the library at a sprint, pounding up the stairs to reach the roof of the building for a better look at what is happening...
...Noting the plume of dust from the impact, Tyrrol grasps his watch tightly.
Dust? That means it hit land! Oh Groetus, is this finally a sign? I must investigate, to find out what secrets it has brought from beyond the stars...
Focusing on his own internal monologue, Tyrrol pays little heed to the strange events in the harbor below...
Heading toward the Green Goblin to try his luck (or lack thereof) once again, Lothan notices the big rock fly over the city. He thoughtlessly ducks, "What the...!", he says as he returns to standing and watches it head towards the Cyphergate. He quickly heads toward the waterfront to see where it might land and before he gets to far, hears a loud, "BOOM!", as the ground beneath him begins shaking.
"This ought to be interesting." He mumbles to himself as he gathers his footing and continues his rapid pace toward the waterfront.
Nature 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Wilam is sitting in a local bar with a cup of the local rotgut in his hard, if only because not having a cup of ale would seem out of place in an establishment full of drunks and those on their way to being drunk. He ignores the initial commotion assuming it to be no more than yet another fight between the crews of rival ships. When the sounds of a fight never materialize, and a strange light seems to fill the sky Wilam heads outside. He arrives in time to see the star directly overhead and then pass into the ocean.
Deep in thought, 'Was this mages trying to bend the heaves to their will, or was this just a freak occurrence?' he slowly walks towards the harbor trying to find a spot that he can overlook both the harbor and the people who ran to the harbor.
'I am glad Sora is safe in the hills above the city.' he thinks as he scans the crowd 'The earth only knows what fresh insanity a falling star will bring upon these city folk.'
Knowledge nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Generally Sora (animal companion) is left in the hills above the city so as not to draw undue notice to the two of us. I assume I can have found a spot that isn't frequented by people?
'These people aren't who I am fighting against, they aren't my enemies, in fact it is possible if ever so remote that one of them could grow up into someone who helps the Earth.' he reminds himself. Subtly he tries to warn children and people who don't look like the usual ruffians and sailors of Riddleport. "You really don't want to go down there right now, who knows it could turn into a riot. Stay in the top of the city until everything has quieted down a bit it will be a lot safer than down by the water."
Kuva has taken another slow day to stand upon the docks and practice his bladework. Falchion out, he advances up and down the empty pier, blade whirling about him in a dance-like frenzy. The other sailors have learned not to disturb the little man - deep in cups, they still tell the story about the ill-fated slaver that thought he had found an easy mark.
When the star fell, Kuva stood, face unreadable in the sudden brightness. He shields his eyes, watching carefully through his peripheral vision to note where the star is landing. A fallen star, laden with the rarest of metals - the Pactmasters will be pleased. When the aftershocks arrive, Kuva calmly walks through them, his feet quick to adjust. He strides down the drained waterfront, eyes on the mud for any left-over treasures that he might be able to claim.
Mordecai contains a grimace as people come in from the streets, talking some madness about falling stars, and the gambling room clears as curious gamers snatch up their coin and crowd out the door, to catch a glimpse of whatever has transpired.
Is this part of some scheme? To draw people out of the hall, in prelude for another robbery? he thinks, putting his hand to his morningstar, feeling the arcane forces coiling within his grasp, ready to send it flying at the head of the first of Clerg's men he sees coming to again assault the hall. They should have learned their lesson the first time... he thinks grimly.
The serving wenches futilely attempt to entice some of the gamblers back to their tables, but their is much muttering and cries of alarm from the open doors, and Mordecai moves forward to get a better glimpse, seeing only a plume of dust rising in the distance.
That is the ocean... Why would there be dust? he thinks, confused for a moment, before remembering that there is an island of some sort out there.
He shakes his head and turns to regard the few patrons remaining at their games, to make sure that none are attempting to take advantage of the hubbub to sneak away with coin not there own...
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
This place is a trap. he thinks, looking around at the building, soon to be lost to the debtors, Can a falling star be a sign that I must find a new star to follow?
People gaze at the barren harbor. Some wonder if the impact has pushed the city up and the harbor might be forever dry. Others continue to focus on the falling star and the plume of dust. Others just stare vacantly at the sea or each other.
Perception DC 19 :
Roll again for this spoiler; If you made the roll above add 4. Perception DC 23 :
I'll post shortly in the OOC thread.
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Mordecai's eyes narrow as he realizes what is about to transpire. He steps away from the door, unsure if the whatever force is coming this way will be strong enough to reach this far from the shore, and says loudly, raising up a glass of ale with grim humor, "Gentlemen! Disaster strikes the docks! A toast to those about to die!"
He then gulps down his ale, wondering if he managed to time it right...
Dual perception checks...1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28 - 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24Kuva's eyes widen as he realizes what is about to transpire. He silently turns and flees from the waterfront as fast as he can. May these little legs be enough this day... He runs as far as he can into the city proper, looking for some sort of cover to throw himself behind.
Nature: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6
Lecian sits within the office of the Goblin, finding himself increasingly frustrated as the establishment seems to near its end. Then, as tremors begin beneath his feet, "What in the nine hells...?" The mage grabs his crossbow and rushes out into the main gambling floor, just as the loud thunderbolt-like sound offends his ears.
"Everybody, keep calm!" he yells, maybe more to himself than his patrons. Continuing out the main entrance, until he sees the plume of dust in the direction of the Cyphergate. Lecian turns and heads back into the Gold Goblin and lets Mordecai know of his intent. "I gotta check this out! I'll be back, soon." He heads briskly in the direction of the Gate.
As Wilam heads out of the city reminds himself 'The destruction and death that is about to occur is not my problem. I should only bother myself with the important event, that being the falling star.' Still there is a hollow ring to the thoughts and he has a nagging sensation that he should have done more. He turns his head looking out over Riddleport and then concentrates on the location where he remembers the star hit trying to mark it in his mind.
Turning he heads up into the hills to find Sora, and then perhaps return to Riddleport to see what can be salvaged and hopefully find a method to get to where the star fell.
Perception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Tyrrol indeed has a fantastic view of the inexorable, terrible wave of water that is approaching the city.
Making a snap decision, he realises that there is no way he could warn those at the harbor, and watches dispassionately for the screams of terror and last minute attempts to flee before they are overwhelmed.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Life is such a fleeting and ultimately meaningless concept, and yet life strives to continue to exist despite all of this. Those fools rushed in, not realising that they went to their doom, and then they do not accept their fate. Ah, Groetus, tonight you collect a bountiful harvest...
The oncoming wave sweeps into the Cyphergate. Spray flies up from the immovable legs of the arc. The wave crests over the shore to either side. In the center it rushes through the gate, smashes into the grounded ships, picks up the splintered pieces or even whole vessels and carries them on toward the docks.
The crowd begins to stream away from the waterfront, although some stragglers, slower of foot, slower of wit, or perhaps too quick of wit, remain to watch the wave arrive. The wave starts to curl and break forming a confused mass of foaming hungry water that continues to rush forward.
The wave is seven feet higher than the far end of the quays when it hits them. Impossibly it seems to grow taller as it continues on. It hits the waterfront. A wall of water and debris washes into and through the the fleeing crowd. It surges around the buildings and accelerates up the streets to devour more hapless victims.
A demasted ship rolls down one of the piers before it finally snaps in two. One half drops into the harbor. The other continues on to the waterfront street and cartwheels into the sail loft.
Some water front buildings seem to jump back from the water as it licks their faces. Some hold firm. Some collapse spilling their contents and inhabitants into the roiling water.
Kuva: Starting on the waterfront, you're the most threatened. Roll Initiative. If you beat 10 add 4 to the following DC 18 check: Your choice of best skill arguably applicable to avoiding water/damage. You may make arguments for bonuses.
Lecian and Lothan: You're starting higher up. Same deal as Kuva, but your DC is 14.
Mordecai drains his glass and as he lowers it to the bar the entire building begins to rumble. A section of the west wall bursts unleashing a waist-high torrent of water which quickly spreads across the floor.
Mordecai DC 14 Reflex save to preserve your dignity
Tyrrol and Wilam you're safe on high ground. And in a perfect position to see the wave break on the waterfront while part of it surges up the Velashu River and inundates the low-lying buildings east of the river, like the Golden Goblin.
Tyrrol watches with interest to see how far inland the wave of destruction will extend.
Hmmm... I dare say that lot will take a fair amount of effort to sort out again... He smiles, and shakes his head. Of course, entropy is the ultimate destiny of the universe...
He has a sudden realisation, and glances towards the harbor in annoyance, scanning for ships.
I hope some vessels survived the onslaught, otherwise it will be difficult to charter a boat to get me to that island...
Ref save, DC 14 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Mordecai sways with the tremor, but retains his footing, pleased that he finished his drink, as it would surely have spilled everywhere!
Seeing the water bursting in from the west wall, he grimaces, accepting the inevitability that this business enterprise is done for, and that the omens that he must move on to some new endeavor have long past 'portentous.'
I wonder what a star is made of, and if it's broken shell has some worth? he ponders, as he idly deposits the empty tankard on the nearest table, and steps quickly away from the entrance, expecting that a mass of bodies will all-too-quickly fill that space, in an eager rush to escape whatever doom has come.
Init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
I am going to try to argue Acrobatics is a viable option for surviving the wave. To quote briefly...
"You can also dive, flip, jump, and roll to avoid attacks and overcome obstacles."
I would argue that in the midst of a debris-laden tsunami, the ability to dive, roll, flip, etc., would be invaluable in maneuvering in ways to avoid colliding and drowning, especially given the unpredictability of the currents.
Ergo, my Acro roll, with +4 for running like the wind on Init. 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (5) + 16 = 21
Kuva runs with all the energy he has in him. The air behind him is filled with screams and crashes, as buildings are rent to pieces by the wave. The roar of the water is loud in his ears, and gives his feet wings.
When he hears the wave behind him, his first response is to leap. His eyes are closed and a prayer flees across his frozen mind. Keep Pharasma from me, he thinks to whomever will listen as the wave envelops him.
Leaving it there til I know what happens.
Wilam watches quietly as the wave hits the city, then turns and keeps walking to where Sora is. After a little while he reaches her location and is able to calm her down. "It was just a star that fell to earth, nothing more than that, and it isn't anything to worry about. At least that is what I am hoping, but I think we need to check it out."
Sighing deeply he sets off back down towards the city with Sora following. Despite his assurances to Sora he couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than a simple shooting star.
Sora is comming down to the city this time. However Wilam will leave her outside the city if he thinks she will be too out of place and bring too much notice to himself.
Lecian: Know(engineering) 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 Lecian watches the wave sweep up the crowd up the street toward him. A wooden building's facade buckles under the weight of the water. As the wave engulfs people, they cartwheel and disappear. Occasional heads, arms, and legs emerge briefly from the flow before rolling under again.
He notices the heavy stone construction in the Taldan style beside him. Undoubtedly the foundation and lower courses of stone have interlocking grooves. As he charges up the stairs to the double doors of the main entrance the leading edge of the wave laps his ankles. He reaches the landing and whirls to watch the wave crest at the fifth step as it runs by. He's dry and safe, for now.
Lothan: Runs before the incoming wave, but knows by its volume that it's gaining. He leaps for a window ledge and starts to pull himself up and clear of te water, but the ledge is too narrow. His head hits the shutter, his upward progress stops and he tumbles back toward the street, just righting himself with scrabbling hands as he falls. He's on his feet when the wave hits him. Knocking him over. You're the unlucky one.
Non-lethal damage 1d6 ⇒ 2 Lethal damage 1d6 ⇒ 6 DC 12 reflex save for half.
Kuva: There's no chance to outrun the wave. It's too fast, but there is one way out. The halfling runs, leaps against a wall, richochets upward against a stack of barrels, pushes up and back to the wall again and in through an open window. The wave sweeps the barrels away as he spins to look out the window. The building jerks and shudders and he tumbles to the floor.
Mordecai: The water spreads across the floor, swirls around your calves, and drops smoothly down the stairs into the sunken pit that houses the gaming tables. A more studied examination of the west wall shows that only a small section of the wall has failed. A littlebrickwork and plaster and it may be fine.
Tyrrol and Wilam: You're both safe and can watch the disaster unfold. Tyrrol, there's not a ship in the harbor undamaged by the wave.
Apologies for the delay. I'm afraid this trouble at work, spilled into a need to spend extra time with the family this weekend. WOrk will continue to impede my leisure this week. I will hold to 1 post per day minimum during this troubled time. Honest, I usually post 2 or 3 times per day. Set can vouch for me. Please don't loose hope or interest.
No worries SD DM. It's all good.
Almost...got it...Owwww! My head! He thinks to himself as he hits his head, loses his grip and hits the ground. With no time to waste he immediately gets back up and turns to see the wave just before it blasts into him.
Reflex: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
"Ohhhhh, that hurts." He says through gritted teeth. Man my life sucks.
I guess it's not all good. I continue my torrid pace of 4's or less. Man my rolling sucks. ;)
From his position above the gambling pit, Mordecai will offer a hand up to the dry(er) upper ground to any employees or patrons who got caught on 'lower ground.'
The water should shortly seek the lower levels, flooding the underground fighting arena, and he'll try to make sure that no patrons or staff get sucked down into those areas by the evacuating tide of water.
With a sinking feeling, he ponders what sort of damage the sudden rush of water might do to the already-depleted wine cellar, almost dropping a patron back into the waters, as he loses his focus, before he gets a grip and returns to his duties.
Lothan :The water tumbles Lothan to the cobbles and spins him around as it carries him up the street. He tries to reach the surface, but brushes the street again. Suddenly his head pops free, just long enough for a quick breath and a glimpse of more water threatening to submerge him.
Again at the bottom of the wave he hits something softer than stone. Something that jerks and squirms and grabs at him. Then he rolls onto stone.
Lecian, Tyrrol, and Wilam: The surging water carries people, barrels, carts, dogs, and all manner of random goods up the waterfront streets. They disappear into the foaming roil then reappear farther along. Eventually the tide begins to slow and stops.
Kuva; You find yourself in a bedroom. Two girls sit on the floor playing with straw-stuffed dolls. The door opens and a woman staggers in. BLood drips from her scalp and mats her hair. "What did you do!?" She dashes to the children and tries to scoop them up.
Mordecai: After a few seconds the water begins to reverse and flow out of the room. Unfortunately the gambling pit is left knee-deep. One of the croupiers comments, "Well, boss, we could put in a fishpond." She laughs nervously and much too heartily for such a feeble jest.
Lecian looks downward at the wave crest, snapping like an angry dog at the steps below. He waits at the landing, considering possible options of survival should the water level increase, but is ultimately relieved when tide finally subsides.
When it seems safe to do so, he descends, with much hesitance, down the stairs from the landing. At ground level, he looks around at all the mayhem caused by the wave, particularly looking for anyone in need of help.
Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Lothan, fighting for his life, and noticing that something is trying to grab at him, What?! Is that someone caught below?! He attempts to grab whatever is trying to grab him.
Do I have the option to attempt to grab whatever it is? Maybe look to see what/who it is that's underwater? Not sure exactly what's applicable. I'll throw a grapple? out there I guess. Not sure exactly. Obviously if I can't do any of this, just disregard.
CMB: Attempt to grab 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Tyrrol watches dispassionately as the wave carries its cargo of living creatures and inanimate objects through the streets of the city.
Ah, Humans. They think they have tamed the natural world, and then, every so often, a cataclysm occurs that reminds them they are not the masters of their own fates...
Once the wave subsides, he gingerly comes down off the roof of the library, and makes his way towards the docks to get a better look at the damage toll, and see which vessels look the closest to sea-worthy...
If he comes across anyone along the way who requests assistance, he will provide it, but it will not occur to him to volunteer.
Kuva pauses for a moment at the scene in front of him, and decides discretion is the best choice when confronted with an angry mother. "Take them and stay put, lest another wave come," he says quietly. "A star has fallen - pray that the ocean's wrath is the worst that befalls this city." He walks past her and heads down towards the street to survey the damage, ignoring any cries behind him.
Kuva: You make your way to the stairs of the building, but the first floor is still inundated with waist deep water which is slowly draining out the burst door. After a short wait you follow the water out the main door. The street beyond is littered with stuff and occasional bodies, both living and dead.
Lothan: You grab, it grabs. Together you tumble up the cobblestone streets. The wave recedes depositing you and a half-elven woman on the stones. She is pretty. Her forehead and left cheek are tattooed with two spare glyphs from the Cyphergate.
Everyone: Perhaps worse than the carnage in the streets is that being swept back into the harbor. Many people have been sucked out with the retreating wave. And many of them are injured or unable to swim.
People get up or come out of their houses. Looking at the damage, some helping others in need. More than a few taking the opportunity for self-enrichment. This is Riddle port.
A last post or two and we'll wrap up the wave. A bit of exposition for your character's character. If you choose to loot 3d6+20 gp comes your way.
On his way down to the dock, Tyrrol comes across the body of an obviously dead (most living humans don't have a cranium quite that shape) merchant, with a rather fat coin pouch on his belt.
Hmmm... Well, I guess it is not going to do him any good any more...
Glancing around, he checks to make sure no-one is watching, and then effortlessly clips the pouch from the corpse's belt, before pocketing it.
3d6 + 20 ⇒ (6, 5, 6) + 20 = 37gp.
At the docks, once he is satisfied that all of the ships there have been too badly damaged to be considered even remotely sea-worthy, Tyrrol heads for the Dock Master's Office, to do his 'Civic Duty' by assisting with the clean-up... In the process, hoping to learn what ships will be due into port in the next few days...
Mordecai glances back to make sure that the Goblin staff have matters in hand, and steps into the streets to see what carnage this wave has wrought.
He's not sure where Lecian got to, and is all-too aware of the delicate nature of arcanists, after getting his last one killed, so he moves with purpose, hauling up spluttering passersby to see if any of them are his fellow proprietor. Of course, once he's gone through all the effort of hauling someone up, he'll provide them with a perfunctory bit of assistance with his healing skills, but is unlikely to waste healing magics on anyone who doesn't arouse his interest in some way...
Take 10 on any Heal checks to Stabilize anyone who was choking on a lungfull of water, for a 16, which is sufficient for First Aid.
Tyrroll, with the vagaries of wind and wave, and Riddleport being a pirate haven, no one, not even a legit merchant, has a firm schedule. Ships come. Ships go. I will put together a list of ships and their state of disrepair (estimated repair times) for you however.
Mordecai: In addition to water inhalation you find a number of broken bones, many contusions, abrasions, and puncture wounds. An opportunity to practice all your first aid skills.
Kuva strides down the streets, following the water back towards the ocean. He is heedless of the state of the dead and wounded around him - he has no illusions as to his ability to help any of them. Upon reaching the docks, he slows to a halt - he understands that the Pactmasters will likely want him to get his hands on the fallen star, but lacks any idea of how to get himself there. He surveys the area, looking for any sort of inspiration.
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
Mordecai: In addition to water inhalation you find a number of broken bones, many contusions, abrasions, and puncture wounds. An opportunity to practice all your first aid skills.
The Lady has blessed me with a veritable banquet of human misery this day. Thanks to her that I avoided similar injury! Mordecai thinks, as he perhaps enjoys too much seeing the diversity of injuries paraded before him. His hands move quickly, eager to move on to the next exquisite agony, and his voice soothing, as he knows that the true danger in the aftermath of such disaster is in the rising tide of unspent emotions, as fear and uncertainty give way to anger...
Taking 10 on Diplomacy, for a 19, to reassure the injured, and pre-empt any post-disaster drama in his immediate area. He's not even a little bit interested in getting swept up in a riot!
Heh, love Lothan's awkwardness. Samaritha is a hottie! "Is there anything I can do for you? Or, more to the point, to you?"
As Wilam re-enters the city he carefully tries to avoid large groups, 'There is no telling what a panicked crowd will do.' He slowly makes his way towards the waterfront stopping only once or twice to tend to an injured child that was directly in his path. Once reaching the waterfront he quickly realizes that his hopes of finding an organized group planning on exploring the area of the fallen star are fruitless.
Retreating from the destruction at the docks Wilam stops by several of the local bars hoping to find one that was mostly spared. At each bar he will spend a little time helping heal minor injuries while trying to overhear any conversation related to people setting up an expedition to investigate the area where the star fell.
Preception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27 to overhear conversations
Take 10 to heal any children on the way, and then for people at the local bars for a total of 16
Lothan: The woman stands and gently shakes off your hands. "Thank you. It's enough that we're not swimming." Then she looks herself over, touching obviously sore spots on her knees and elbows. She frowns at what she finds then looks at you. "I'm no worse off than you anyway." She grins and puts out a hand, "Samaritha Beldusk, apprentice Cyphermage."
Tyrrol: The dock master is a very busy man. To his mind your "civic duty" is to do what you're told with no questions asked and no attitude. After a couple hours of errands and physical labor, a DC 14 Diplomacy check will winnow this out of him:
Wilam: Plenty of dreams and conjecture, no solid plans so soon after the event. Give it a day or two.
Kuva: No inspiration to be found this day. The harbor and the waterfront are a shambles. Crews are working mostly to clear debris and look for survivors.
Looking a short distance down the street, you see Lothan with a half-elven woman who looks vaguely familiar. (You know her if you met Samaritha in your previous AP.)
Mordecai: Keep this up and you'll win a good citizen award.
Dawn, 2nd of Pharest.
The city awakes to find yesterday was no nightmare. The waterfront is a shambles, a thrid of the buildings damaged or destroyed. The ships in the harbor are largely ruined or will require days or weeks of repair. Anxious owners are already bidding up the shipwright's services. And dozens of people, maybe hundreds, are injured, dead, or missing.
For some though, there is possibly a bright spot. During the night, Avery Slyeg's ship, the Black Bunyip, has come in. She sits alone at the quay.
Hmmm... Well, tact is certainly not Tyrrol's strong suit, but he will do his best to curb his tongue long enough to get the Dock Master's to pass on his information...
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20. *sigh* Well, that is one less critical I will get with my flail :-/
Having put in enough work to get the Dock Master to talk, Tyrrol will gladly pack it in (once the Dock Master's Office is returned to a semblance of order; I don't want to make any enemies just yet), and head over to Keyra's End to have a chat with Captain Marks.
Before he meets with him, Tyrrol will ask the bar staff what the good Captain prefers in terms of liquor, and pick up a decent bottle (10gp) to grease the wheels of Diplomacy.
He will compliment Captain Marks on his good fortune to have escaped with minimal damage to his fine vessel, and explain his desire to find the meteorite, and ask whether it might be possible to book passage on his ship in a few days when it is ready to hit the open ocean again. He is also willing to run errands as necessary to help get the Foamrunner ready...
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16, plus whatever circumstance bonuses you think are reasonable for the liquor.
This would, of course, all happen before Tyrrol is aware of the other ship arriving in port, but such are the vagaries of chance...
...When he gets wind of the other vessel, he will coast by the docks to see what is happening with it...
Not really use to kindness in this city or the presence of one so attractive, Lothan is slow to react to her introduction, "Um yeah," he reaches out his hand and returns the greeting. "I'm Robthan Logard....Lobgard Rothan... wait a minute," he holds up his other hand as to say 'I'll get it right here in a minute', "Lothan Robgard. Yes, that's it." He laughs at himself for how much of a bumbling idiot his turned into in just a matter of seconds.
"No, I'm alright. I might need to stop by the local healer and get my head checked out. You see, I knocked it on an overhang and...um," he stops in midsentence realizing this conversation is only getting worse the more he talks, "So, Samaritha is it? It's a pleasure to meet you. Terrible way to meet but, hey, we're still alive, so that counts for something, right?" He lets out a small laugh while thinking to himself please, someone kill me now! as he quickly switches back to the event that has unfolded, "I'm hoping all are okay." He says as he turns and looks back toward the waterfront, "The damage is pretty extensive. I was actually hoping to find a way out there to investigate it but it doesn't look like that's going to happen seeing how there's not a boat left standing." He turns back to Samaritha, "So you're a Cyphermage, huh? Well what's your take on the big rock falling from the sky? Any thoughts?" Slighty more relaxed, now that he finally got something to come out of his mouth that wasn't stupid.
Through the course of the day, Mordecai works ever closer to the ravaged docks, admiring the devastation. The stench of the ocean's effluvium does nothing to enhance the savage artistry of it... he thinks, wrinkling his nose at the scent of decaying fish, seaweed and whatever tiny creatures were washed up with the tons of muck and silt swept inland.
As he reaches the docks, his back is sore from leaning over injured people, and he's taken to showing preferential treatment to those too injured to speak, or muted by the shock of the day's events, as he's grown well-past tired of the litanies of woe.
He is troubled by the damage that seems to have left no ship untouched, and listens carefully to the mournful tales of the captains and crew clustered around the wave-tossed wrecks, trying to note if any of the ships could possibly be repaired by the magics at his command, on the morrow...
He can prepare two Make Whole spells, each able to repair up to 30 cubic feet of damaged item, which might be able to at least fix a hole in a hull.
Perception, to try and figure out which ships might be fixable with some work and a little magic pick-me-up. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
If he doesn't hear anything particularly helpful, or understand the sailor-speak sufficiently for it to be useful, he'll keep to the same spells. Otherwise, he'll prepare two Make Whole spells the next day, particularly if he can find a crew expressing an interest in heading to the island...
After finally finding familiar faces, Lecian walks briskly towards Lothan and the woman. When close enough, he calls out, "Lothan! Are you alright?" Soon he faces and address the woman. "Uhh...hello." Lecian looks over the woman momentarily. "I'm sorry, but you look familiar and I can't place a name to your face..."
Loose Ends from 1 Pharest:
Wilam: Forgot to mention, like with Mordecai, there's plenty of healing to be done. You generate a fair amount of good will among parents and observers while you work with the kids.
In the taverns, you realize most people talking about going after the fallen star are just talking. But there's a different kind of conversation that may be more useful. Sailors are guessing which ships are in the best shape and could be repaired most quickly. The front runner seems to be Foamrunner.
Kuvan: Looking for inspiration, you find it in the form of gambling. An enterprising sportsman has started a pool to pick the first ship in the harbor to be repaired. The lowest odds are on Foamrunner.
Mordecai: Drifting around the docks, one thing is apparent. Competition for repair is stiff. You witness one bidding war for repair facilities turn into a fist-fight between captains, which quickly evolves into a swordfight between the two crews.
The Desna's Delight is willing to give your magic a try. (More on them later.)
Lothan : Samaritha smiles and nods while you babble on. When you pause she asks, "Are you all right? Maybe we should have a healer look at your head?" But her smile shows she's merely joking.
She agrees there is a lot of damage. About the falling stone, "Stars fall. This one must be larger than most, I'd guess. If it's adamantine or some such, it could be valuable." She turns thoughful, "Or maybe it holds the key to some celestial secret...."
She shakes her head, smiles, and suggests a cup of tea. (I assume you accept.) But on the way you run across some injured people and a woman looking for her child. Samaritha says, "Maybe now isn't the time for tea. Why not meet me tomorrow night at the Gold Goblin?"
She'll spend the rest of the day helping others. (You may help too, or not.)
Tyrrol: The inn staff is very helpful. The drink is inevitably, rum. The Captain, however, is away, presumably in the harbor working on his ship.
Lecian: Still with us?
"You are right." He says as they move upon so many of the injured. "These people need help. I will assist in any way I can." He turns back to Samaritha, "Tomorrow night then. Tea at the Gold Goblin it is." He says with a smile and slight bow and then spends the rest of the day helping as many of the injured as possible.