Not hearing the bosun barking orders or cracking the whip, Angelica is curious, curious enough to go look. Not wanting the crew to know that they are skulking around the ship at night, she uses the darkness to her own advantage and tries to see what she can find out. Not wanting to hurt any of the crew and get stranded on out at sea by getting kicked off, she draws her sap in case she needs something to defend herself.
Angelica crept out onto the deck just in time to see the other passenger, Dialla, dumping a body over the rail. The moonlight shone on the face of her victim, and the ear-to-ear slash on its throat as she heaved it overboard. It was Chebby, the vicious rat that was brother to the first mate. The bloody dagger in Dialla's right fist left little doubt as to what had just taken place.
Many ideas race through Angelica's head, but quickly she decides to play innocent and hope to glean a little more information first. She stows the weapon quickly, knowing she can rely on her claws if needed. Walking as if she is at least hindered by the darkness, she calls out, while approaching the woman "Hello? Is someone out here? Is everyone okay? I thought I heard a cry and splash. Please tell me no one fell overboard."
The woman straightened, pulling the bloody dagger out of sight as she turned to face Angelica.
"I was just catching some fresh air, and was on the other side of the ship when I heard someone cry out. I didn't hear a splash, though. Do you think someone fell overboard? Perhaps we should call the night watch and get a search party started, or whatever it is they do on these ships?"
"" Below decks many sailors are half-awake wondering how anyone--including the orc himself--can sleep through the racket coming from his nose.
Feigning surprise, Angelica continues "Oh, my. Maybe we should go tell the Captain. Come with me, this darkness is too much, and to be honest, I'm a little scared."
The woman looked at Angelica with narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, in a completely different tone of voice. "You saw, didn't you? Look, I have no quarrel with you. That piece of offal you saw go overboard killed my niece in Kaer Maga. She was only thirteen and he raped her and killed her. The damned Ardocs lapped up the alibi his pig of a brother provided. My sister deserved justice for what they did to Evelia, but all she got was empty platitudes. It took me seventeen months to catch up to the bastard, and now Pharasma can judge his soul and send it to the worst level of Hell."
"But this doesn't have to involve you or your people. It doesn't even have to involve the Captain. I have a plan - assume Chebby's appearance for the rest of the trip, cut loose a rowboat to make it look as if I had left the ship entirely, pose as Chebby, adn return to Kaer Maga as soon as we reach land. If you remain silent, and not involve the Captain, I'll make it worth your while. Please, this was about justice for a little girl who never deserved the treatment that foul rat did to her. Please."
"*snore*...Nnn...N'don't...Gimmie th'thing...Nethys' eyes...stupid gnome...Zzzzz..."
In her bunk, Shabbezz tosses and turns while mumbling in her sleep. Whatever she's dreaming of, she remains unaware of the events transpiring above deck.
Given the story, Angelica doesn't blame the woman for her actions, but she has also been around thieves and liars long enough to not just blindly trust any story she hears. Unfortunately, she herself is better at telling them, than discerning the truth in them. She tries to buy a little time while she thinks it over. "Look, Lady, I don't know what you think I saw, but now I am concerned over what you admitted to doing. That sounds like an awful tragedy, and I don't necessarily disagree with your actions, but how do you plan to be able to assume his appearance for so long? Also, what do you mean, 'make it worth my while'?" Maybe some of the info will help her decide how capable the person she's dealing with is.
As far as Angelica can tell, the woman is telling the truth. The burglar still acted all innocent and naive, but the woman didn't appear to be buying her act, either.
"I think I've said enough of my plans for now. As for 'making it worth your while', are you being deliberately obtuse? I think it's pretty clear. I give you something of value, and you keep this little episode between us. What do you say?"
"Okay, look lady. As long as you can maintain your lie, I don't have to worry about anything. If your ruse goes belly up, I wasn't here, I didn't see or hear anything. This story of yours is only yours to maintain." Irritated at the woman for being so difficult, Angelica huffs, "For what it's worth, I'd have cut a man for doing that to my.... close ones as well. So, I guess we got a deal then."
The woman stared at Angelica for a while, then handed the bloody knife to her hilt first. "It cost most of what I could beg, borrow, or steal to get on this ship and enact my vengeance. But this I have to offer. It was my father's knife, and magical in nature. The edge will never need sharpening, and it will never rust, though you leave it out in the rain for a year. Everything else I own I need to complete my ruse, but this is yous in exchange for your silence."
Angelica eyes the knife like a viper about to strike, then eases as she realizes that the body went overboard, so there is no way to tie it to the dead man's wounds. She takes the knife, wipes it off quickly, and tries to assess its worth. "She nods. Agreed. I wasn't here, I saw and heard nothing. An uneventful evening." She stows the blade away in her pack, and returns to her companions. She will tell them about finding the knife after they make landfall and the ship has sailed on.
Angelica sees that the knife is of very fine make, though she can't determine any properties it may have beyond that.
Dialla nodded to Angelica, then spoke a command word. Her appearance suddenly shimmered and was replaced with that of her victim, Chebby. She/he spoke in the nasal voice of the former seaman, "Very well. I will offer prayers in your name to Callistra for this. And now, I must take Chebby's place on the ratlines. Good night."
The figure turned and went to the port railing where she/he had already launched one of the dories. With a smooth motion, she/he pulled another dagger from a boot and cut the tow line, setting the boat adrift. Then, she/he turned and climbed the ropes to the first platform on the mainmast with less alacrity than an experienced sailor might have shown, but with some skill nonetheless.
The rest of the night passed in quiet, until the changing of the ship's watch. At that point, "Chebby" was found laying on the deck with a lump on his head, and one of the dories missing. A quick search of the ship found that the only person missing was the other passenger, Dialla.
Captain Fessender was perplexed by this, since she still held the woman's payment. After a minor questioning, the incident was shrugged off and the normal ship operations continued, though "Chebby" was sent to the officers quarters to rest. After all, the dory could be anywhere in the Varisian Bay by now.
Sometime mid-morning, the lookout called land sighting, and fifteen minutes later, those of you with good eyesight saw a green smear on the horizon. An hour later and you were staring at a tall cliff face surmounted by a two hundred foot tall statue of a robed woman hold aloft a torch.
To the north of the cliffs was a greenish-gray marsh, and that was where the Captain indicated she could set you ashore. "If the statue's your goal, going in through the edge of the Mushfens will be your best bet, and the easiest path for my crew to drop you off. See those dark shapes int he water there? It's near high tide, and those rocks are just beneath the surface. I'll not get the Ways any closer to them. The boys'll row you in and drop you off. You'll be free to hike in from there."
"We appreciate it," Shabbezz said to the Captain as gratefully as she could manage. "Hopefully we'll make good time from there on."
"Yaaaaaawwwwwwwmmmmmmmm...." Harbug's not-quite reply rose from his throat until finally he made a coherent response, "Seems fine. Any advice on how to get back once we finish what we're doing?"
"Get back? You walk, of course. Or hire a local guide. Surely there is some hermit living in that swamp that will guide you out for a fee. That's the way these things usually work, isn't it"
The captain waved you off as you climbed down the side of the ship and into the waiting dory. Four big seamen were manning the oars, and a fifth stood in the prow, ostensibly to steer the boat around any submerged rocks.
The journey from ship to shore took about a half an hour, with ocean spray splashing up to drench almost everyone. Finally, the crew managed to get you to the shore, allowing you to splash through a mere two feet or water to stand upon the beach. Looking around, you can see the main expanse of the mushfens to the north, while the cliffs holding the Lady's Light itself are to the south. Between you and the monument is a vast lagoon.
Angelica nods, oddly silent during the exchange, merely shrugging at the word on finding how to get themselves back to Magnimar when they were done. Looking at the statue, she remarks, "She's not bad to look at. If I could do it easily enough, I don't know that I wouldn't make one of myself. I wonder if she was someone specific, or just something they thought would be easy on the eyes." Once they reach shore, she looks at their surroundings, and declares, "Well, now we only have to find some witch named Maroux... so, where do we start?"
Zaph nods in agreement with Angelica. "Very lovely. I'm sure it dates back to ancient Thassilon, so I wonder who it might be..."
Zaphomil thinks back to what he knows of the monument, but can't place any one name to the monument. It could be a visage of one of the Runelords of ancient Thassilon, or it could be a scullery maid that caught the sculptor's attention. He really couldn't say.
"Well, let's just take a look around and see what's here." The orc takes stock of his surroundings, tries to judge the depth of the lagoon, and looks for any obvious paths heading toward the Lady's Light. "When we get to her, there might even be a hint as to who she was."
The look of disgust on Jakscar's face is obvious as he paddles through the water. "Well that is another pair of boots ruined! I would suggest we light a fire and dry out a bit before we push on, but in the mushfens that seems a little pointless! Shall we head on in, we have a lovely old monument to guide us and maybe we will pick up a used path that will lead us to the witch's abode"
"We could go in through the edge of the Mushfens like the Captain said."
"Jakscar, with a name like 'Mushfens,' I would have thought you'd have brought an old pair of boots," Zaph observes dryly.
He tears his eyes away from the monument and begins looking for any signs of a trail or of nearby habitation. "Perhaps the beldame knows of who the Lady depicts."
Almost directly to the east of you, a small wisp of smoke makes its way up above the stunted trees of the swamps and into the clear sky. It is impossible to tell how far away it might be, but it is the only sign of habitation.
The lagoon doesn't seem to have an easy means of navigating around its west side, being mostly reefs and linked atolls at low tide. To the east, it looks like you'd have to navigate through the march, but the land did appear to slope upwards towards the base of the Lady's Light.
"Well where there is smoke there is fire and where this is fire there are usually people... or something. We had best be careful"
Harbug draws his spear and turns to head in the direction of the smoke. "Well, let's get going. I'm not used to this swampy, wet terrain, but someone's gotta go first. Any other volunteers?"
Angelica somewhat balks at Jaks' estimation, "Well, if we're looking for information from a swamp witch, I'm inclined to follow the smoke. I might just give us a chance to wring the swamp out of our clothes as well." looking at the catfolk she asks, "Hey, Whiskers, you mind taking the lead in this case? All my experience is in the close confines of city and structure."
"I can take the lead!" the gnome pipes up. "Desna can help make paths appear for her faithful, so I'll forge ahead."
Zaph then pushes up through the muck to walk next to Harbug, while staying alert for traversable paths.
"Ugh," Shabbezz says, lifting up the hem of her scholar's robes as she walks. "This is going to look horrible when it dries."
She sticks close to the group as they traverse the fens, hoping they reach the source of the smoke as soon as is possible.
With a wink at Angelica, "No problems love, wouldn't want you getting muddy."
Jalscar then turns to Zaph."Hold on buddy, at the very least I am going to be right next too you, where it is firmer I will even scout ahead."
Keeping his eyes peeled and his keen ears listening, Jalscar draws his blades and starts off East, towards the smoke. The soft ground makes stealth hard, but he avoids the worst of the seemingly inevitable slurping noises.
The trip towards the smoke wasn't exactly an easy one. The marsh was basically all water and deep mud that kept trying to suck the boots off of your feet. In some places the water go so deep that the grippli and gnome had to swim. In others, the ground rose out of the water in small hillocks that were covered in some kind of wiry vine. Every step released a pocket of air, flatulent with the smell of decaying animal and plant matter. It wasn't pleasant.
Finally, you crested a low rise to see a trail leading along a larger piece of dry land. The trail ran southwards, and to your chagrin, you realized that you had been so caught up in the slog across the marsh that you had gotten slightly turned around. The smoke was now more south than east, and the trail seemed to be going in the right direction.
You followed the trail, realizing that this was more than a simple game trail from the small wooden bridges that spanned the gaps between dry land. Most of these were in bad repair, but no boots were lost in their crossing.
About mid-afternoon you found yourself in some low-lying hills, with the marshlands mostly behind you. The source of the smoke is clearly visible, a hut sitting on the center of an isle, barely large enough to contain the construction, in the middle of one lobe of the lagoon you saw when you first landed. A rickety wood and rope bridge stretched from the shore to the isle. Poles on the near side of the bridge held an assortment of sun-bleached skulls with weird sigils painted on them with a reddish-brown pigment that was almost certainly dried blood.
The mossy wooden shack with the sagging roof looked exactly like the sort of place a swamp witch might reside, and the smoke and smell of something, not entirely pleasant, cooking told the story of someone's presence.
Angelica looks at the others and shrugs, "So, do we just call out? I feel like the skulls are supposed to be a warning, and I don't want to piss off the one person that may be willing to help us here." She waves an arm over her head and speaks loudly in the hut's direction.
Harbug casts a quick spell, then looks around at the various knick-knacks and sigils.
There is nothing magical about the skulls. The symbols appear to be language of some sort.
The symbols are rather vitriolic encouragements to leave the island and its inhabitant alone.
From the hut, a voice called back in response to Angelica's hail,
Zaph looks down at his soggy boots sinking in the swamp and then looks back up. "Is your pot warmed up? I might take you up on that," he says with a laugh.
Angelica tries to kick in what she does well enough, and win over the speaker. "Maroux, I take it? As I said, Jasper sent us to you. He told us that there is no one more qualified or knowledgeable in this area than you are. If there was something we could do, or some action to perform, to show you that we come only seeking your unquantifiable expertise?" He did tell them to do her a favor, maybe she'll listen.
The door to the hut opened, and a half-orc woman appeared on the porch. The totems in her hair and the designs on her clothing spoke that she was a witch just as much as the raven on her shoulder and the fetish made of shrunken heads that she carried.
"Jasper, eh? Thought that old whoreson was dead. Still, he said I knew the area, and he wasn't wrong. Mayhaps we can do each other favors. You want information, and I need some ingredients for a spell I'm working on. Maybe we can trade."
"You bring me some kelpie's hair - that's the seaweed, right? Don't go scalping fey in my swamp! It mostly grows around sunken ships, like the wood I think. See that big island just a ways to the west? There's a ship that sunk there in relatively shallow water, maybe thirty feet or so. Bet there's some nice kelpie's hair growing there. You bring me back a few handfuls and we'll talk."
While the other handles the negotiations, she takes note of the warnings written on the skulls. If Maroux felt the need to post warnings in Boggard and Draconic script, that gave her some idea of the type of creatures that lived out here--and they generally weren't the friendly type.
" Excuse me, Madam Maroux. I can't help but feel if it was that easy you would have been there yourself. We are not against some risk, but when possible it helps to know what we face. Could you enlighten us?"
"Easy is as easy does, furface. I can't leave this pot unattended, and you want information. Either you do it, or you don't. No skin off my nose. Besides, I don't swim so good any more."
"Alright, alright we are going already, not a swimming fan myself"
Harbug sniffs the air a little bit and looks at the stew.
He turns to the direction the witch indicated and sighs. "Okay, who can hold their breath the longest? he muses as he starts to walk toward the water.
Once out of earshot of the witch he says to the group "Since we were warned of boggards and troglodytes, I think we'd better stay in pairs at least--one person harvesting kelp and one person ready to fight; and another pair on shore as guards ready to fight or jump in and help if there are signs of a struggle... Maybe some kind of signal like a light spell on something that floats; if you let it go it'll float to the surface to warn the others that something is going on down below? Or a message spell if someone has it ready? Or both, just to be sure. Who can fight in the water at all?" He looks around at his own gear, pulls out the rod of extend spell and casts Mage armor. "My spear works okay down there, but spells without air? And the hand motions too. Then again, I am excellent with the spear."