"I'm sure the captain will like that; more trade goods to make the voyage worthwhile besides out starmilk."
"So in theory you could figure out how this circle thing works and then transport people back and forth from, say, the Iron Marches to the other side of the Sea, without needing a ship?"
Stilgar strokes his beard thoughtfully, troubled by the discovery.
"Yes... suppressed. Perhaps we should leave it be. Even if you can get it to work, there is no telling where it might lead. Or if the other circle would allow us to return."
Jon nods at the dwarf's words. "Any way to tell where this comes out?"
"Can't be certain. Best guess is that it connects to another circle on the shore of the Tidal Sea. Perhaps an island. It would be somewhere safe. These are permanent magics--very powerful, and very valuable. Might have been a pirate. Seems a clever way to keep a hold open for more cargo. Just send it home while you're still on the water. Doesn't look like it helped much when the ship wrecked though." The gnome licks his lips, looking with great curiosity over the inlaid designs.
"There's coins scattered here as well, and these little ceramic tiles, whatever they are. I think the skeleton is still wearing rings and a chain as well. No magic, but they could be worth some coin."
Stilgar approaches the skeleton and looks upon it with a frown. "I suppose they no longer have any need for these trinkets. Might have been ill-gotten to begin with, in any case."
Opening his pack, he very carefully starts to remove the skeleton's jewelry.
While the others speak Kalaya studies the circle intently, seeking to fathom its use.
While the others speak Kalaya studies the circle intently, seeking to fathom its use.
[dice=Spellcraft]1d20+9
Magnus does appear to be correct. This would be a circle used to magically transport creatures and/or objects within its bounds to another location. You seem less certain of its usefulness, given the warping of the planks and general damage.
Stilgar removes two rings from a skeletal hand, one silver, the other tarnished bronze and heavy, like a signet. Auric begins scooping up coins and the odd ceramic chit. Jon secures the box of spices while Kalaya sits upon a keg, idly tracing part of the inlay with her foot, as she and Whisperwing watching as the gnome's hands trace over the designs on the circle while he quietly murmurs to himself.
Suddenly, the light in the hold increases as a glow rises from the circle. "Yes!" cries Magnus, but then the planks begin to rattle and shift as the whole shipwreck shakes. "No...nononono...too much damage and it's not just--" The rest of the gnome's words are lost as the room is filled with a blinding light and each of you is overcome with a horrific wrenching sensation, as if your body were being pulled a hundred different ways at once. A moment of tremendous pain, then it all goes black.
In one corner sits a small table with a ewer and bowl upon it. In another is a small chest. The other corners are empty, but the floor is strewn with debris. after a moment, you see that some of the objects scattered on the deck were brought here with you, including a scattering of coins and ceramic chits. One wall has what appears to be a cloak hanging on a peg. Next to it is a fairly obvious switch. There are no apparent exits or windows. You see no sign of your companions.
There appears to be only one exit from the room, a sturdy wooden door. As you shift position, you push something on the floor. You can see that some of the various objects that were on the deck of the ship have arrived here with you, including a scattering of coins and those ceramic chits. You see no sign of your companions aside from your faithful familiar.
The faint radiance from the circle allows you to see a torch cresset on the wall above you. You are able to get it lit with your flint and steel and get a look at your new location. The room is made of stone, and empty save for a wooden table and four chairs that take up most of the room aside from the floor where the circle lies, and an open pit of water that smells of the sea. You can see that some of the objects from the hold have made it here with you, including a scattering of coins and some of those strange ceramic chits. A single door appears to be the only exit. There is no sign of your companions.
Left to his own devices, and apparently trapped, Stilgar lets his gaze wander over to the chest in the corner of the room. While rubbing his aching shoulder, he saunters over to it and inspects it. If nothing appears out of the ordinary, he will try to open it.
Shadowborn:
If he hears nothing, he starts trying to pry open the door.
Outside the window, there is a nearby lamp on a post providing light for what appears to be a cobbled road. The window actually contains glass rather than a shutter, and it is surprisingly clear, if a bit blurry. Occasionally the form of a horse or person moves past on the road. A latch allows the narrow window to be opened. It is much too narrow to fit a person, though Whisperwind could leave by it if needs be.
The light gets stronger as a human of average height takes a tentative step in. He's dressed well, though the clothes have spots of grease and wine on them. A golden sash covers an ample waist. He holds a dagger gripped tightly in one hand, a lantern in the other. He quickly takes in Auric with a gasp, then raises his bushy eyebrows, clearly not expecting who he has found.
"Erm...hello. Wasn't expecting this room to be occupied. Are you one of the Captain's fellows then? Haven't heard from him in some time. Hope he's well." His eyes move constantly, taking in you as well as the room itself. "Er...you seem to have dropped your money. Shall I help you collect it?"
"Oh, yes. Thanks, I'd appreciate the help. I have some unfortunate news about the Captain, in fact. Who is the best person to report this to? I got sent through but I'm not sure what the proper channels are for this..."
Since it has been many pages and nearly a year since this last came up, I'll repost information your party received about Fardusk during the early part of your voyage.
Thorne's thoughts on the place are a tad more helpful, if no less bleak. "It's a s%#%hole, but you can get good drinks there. Just don't expect things like charity, well-meaning, and honesty while you're there. Fardusk is a hard place, full of hard people. Watch your fellows' backs, make sure they watch yours, and you may get out with your hides and souls intact."
An old salt called Gabby, one of the friendliest of the crew, has a different take. "Sure, it can be a dark and scary place, if'n yer not used ta it, but there's good folk there yet. Got a place I like to go when we're in port, good inn. It's right near the docks, with hot food and decent drink at reasonable prices. Odd name, so it's easy to remember: the Six with Eight Tails. Owner of the place, Hansi Mancino, he's a good guy, very accommodating and always looking for new business. You need a place to stay while you're in town, look him up and tell him Ol' Gabby sent you. He'll fix you up right, anything you need."
Despite clear skies and a bright half-moon, the night-shrouded city gives you little sense of where to go. With so many people, finding one individual, or four, is the proverbial needle in a haystack.
"Have you had other new arrivals? My friends are likely to have come through as well... but I'm not sure where they wound up..."
"'At's a funny name fer a place. Can't say as I's heard o' it. Lookin' fer a room? The Oxen's Stable down the road a piece might still have--" He trails off momentarily looking you over quickly. "--some spots inna common room left. Or are you lookin' fer a job? 'Cause my cousin has a foreman's job over at a warehouse inna Merchant's Quarter could use another back haulin' goods ta get to the docks afore the mornin' tide. Pay's decent."
The man beams at being recognized and complimented and offers you an exaggerated bow. "I am he. Friend of the common person, and the not so common, as such is my lot to rub elbows with all stations of life. This is indeed the Six with Eight Tails, of which I am proprietor, though you're in a bit of a back corner. I have many private rooms on the lower floor like this one. The Captain pays to keep this one private all the time, so I accommodate him. And I can certainly understand your misgivings. I certainly wouldn't want to travel in such a manner. I trust my own two feet, or a wagon if it's to be a long journey, though I hardly have the time."
"This is the first I've had any visitors through this room in some time. Only reason I found you at all was that I'd just escorted a party to another private room and was returning when I heard you. Though I suppose it's possible. The Captain did have a key to the door, and if it was given to another of them they could have used it. We'll check once we get back to the common room. I can get you a bowl of stew. Fresh sausage, just cased this morning! Discount on account of your hazardous journey and in memory of the lost Captain Derendahl. Just follow me. The halls wind a bit and you could lose your way otherwise."
"Stew and sausage sounds like just the thing, thank you. And I appreciate the discount, I expect to be staying here while we figure out our next move. What's been happening in Fardusk lately, if you don't mind my asking? There's precious little news out at sea..."
The doors open onto a large common room that must hold 120 people, possibly more. The crowd is not boisterous, but there is a bit of a din as they all talk whilst eating and drinking. There's a clatter of plates and mugs as servers move about delivering orders or cleaning tables. A form looms to your right, leaning against the wall as you walk in. It bears distinctive orcish features, but is too short to be full-blooded. The creature gives you a once-over with its bloodshot eyes, then a nod, then ignores you as it moves its attention back over the crowd.
"Ah, you're speaking to the right man, of course. Many bend my ear when they come to the Six with Eight Tails, and I've a mind for gossip like a steel trap! I can get you caught up on current events sure enough. Of course, a fair bit of exchange will be in order. I'd certainly like to hear how the dear Captain met his demise...so I can properly inform friends and acquaintances, of course. No point in letting his long absence formulate any wild rumors."
What he said about losing your way is true, as there appear to be many corridors here, and doors, and no real way to tell direction. Occasionally the corridors meet in small rooms, each with a circular hole in the floor filled with water. Eventually you make your way to a stairway up, and can hear the sounds of talk, laughter, and singing.
By the light of the half-moon in the clear sky above, the stunning view is another sight the witch has never seen. Buildings, as far as the eye can see, with hardly a stretch of open space anywhere other than the roads that meander between the structures. Lights are everywhere, from lamps on posts lining the streets to the twinkle and glow from windows and doorways from what must be thousands of buildings.
"Is there by chance some place I can hire a guide? I am new to this... place."
Staggered by the sheer size of what had to be the largest house she'd ever seen, in a town so large she couldn't even wrap her head around it, the young witch is truly at a loss for how to find her friends. "This must be the fabled Fardusk." she says aloud to Whisperwing as was her habit when they were alone. "Where was it Gabby said we should go? Six with Eight Tails....that's it! I guess we look for a grouping of people." she said moving down the street.
"I didn't know where I was initially, you see, so playing along with your assumptions seemed like the safest thing until I knew more. I hope you'll forgive me, but I do know for certain that the Captain won't be coming back and my companions are likely to be somewhere on the grounds here."
He adds: "And Captain Wilde's crew did speak quite highly of your establishment."
"Aye, I'll do it. You'll need to tell me where it is you want to go. I'm a tout, not a mind-reader. Though if that's what you need, I can take you to one."
She takes hold of the bag slung over one shoulder and opens it. "Just go ahead and put those in here and we'll be on our way. You'll have my services until the sun comes up, should you need them that long. Name's Pliska," she says, smiling to reveal rather long, pronounced canines.
You wander down the street for several minutes, meeting several cross streets that cut through the lane you're on. The street continues to weave downhill, until it reaches a wall. The wall stands some 12 feet high, with crenels along the top. Another street parallels the wall. There is a gate here where the street you followed ends. Two guards, both human, stand leaning against the wall, passing a wineskin between them.
As you pass through the rather crowded common room, patrons shout the innkeepers name. He favors them with a smile, a few words, and the occasional handshake. At one point a rather stout woman, squeezed into a dress that has much of her pushed out the top of it, red hair shot through with streaks of gray piled in a mighty tower atop her head, moves into your path. Hansi Mancino has no smile for her. She, however, bares her teeth as she eyes you up and down, much as if you were a hot meal just brought to the table. "My...who is your new friend, Hansi?"
The innkeeper rolls his eyes. "A traveler in need, and I am attempting to set things to rights so he can enjoy the rest of his evening. Once things are sorted, I'm sure you'll find the time to make his acquaintance," he says, steering you around the woman and towards a door. "My wife, the Madame Mancino."
You reach the double doors and not an immense figure in the shadows of an alcove nearby. At first, you think it standing, but then it rises and steps forward. The fellow must be seven feet tall, with the broad build of a dwarf. His skin is appears jaundiced, and his square-jawed face is broad and flat, with black eyes framed by lank, black hair. The innkeeper addresses the hulking brute.
"Reef, I need you to search the lower halls. We may have lost guests. This man will describe them to you. If you see anyone that matches his descriptions, bring them to me. Be polite. They are guests."
The giant fellow nods, then reaches back into the alcove and retrieves a club, a stout, squarish thing with three iron nails driven through one side of it. He tucks the weapon into a loop on his belt and strides away, the crowd of people parting for him as he crosses the room.
"All right then, Jon. If that's where you want to go, we'll get you there. It's a bit of hike from here, but at least it's all downhill. Just stick by me." She settles her bag, grabs up a staff leaning against the wall that has a blue scarf tied to one end, and begins to stride off, using the staff as a walking stick. She doesn't look back to see if you're following.
"Creed, is it?" he starts, straightening out his posture. "I was told that you could be of assistance. I seem to have lost my way, as well as my companions. And to tell the truth, I am not even certain of where I am."