Astrianna is slightly panicked when the door to Sam's shop opens, expecting the wizard to come out tossing fireballs. Instead, Sorrin returns, and it appears his burglary attempt was only successful in gaining Sam's attention. She sighs and waves a hand. "Good enough."
The bard confidently strides into the wizard's domain when the ground shakes, and she quickly braces herself. More explosions followed, and she shakes her head. Falgor Finney said someone, perhaps the Ring, bought up all the alchemist's fire in the city. Looks like they found the time to use it.
Placing her hands on her hips, Astrianna begins her spiel. "This is just a taste, Sam. Port Shaw is about to face a bloodbath the likes the Razor has never seen. You have the key to stopping it. We know you have a bag of holding containing a Tulitian scrimshaw called the Jawbone, delivered by Jalia through the same window Sorrin used. If we do not return the Jawbone, Port Shaw will be decimated by more than fire- you'll see why there's a silver weapon shortage too when the weresharks begin tearing apart all your customers on the streets during tonight's full moon. So please- give us the Jawbone, and you'll be remembered as the savior of Shaw in my songs."
Falgor Finney said someone, perhaps the Ring, bought up all the alchemist's fire in the city. Looks like they found the time to use it.
The wizard reappears floating near the ceiling and he descents. He waves at the bear. "Intimidating." He motions to the bear.
"Ah the lesser magic speaks." He laughs, mockery is apparent. "Yes, the Blood Moon is rising tonight, I suspect that you are right the weresharks among us will show themselves." His right eye brow raises, "No, I don't have the kiss and I suspect they will scurry on by my little shop without much trouble." He grins, "Mad wizard reputation and such." He laughs.
"So you say Jalia brought a bag of holding by." He purses his lips. "Well, she's a clever one, figured out how to disable the alarm." His left hand on his chin now. "She never delivered this bag with the Jawbone to me, but this is a genius place to hide something, don't you think?" Only a fool would break into and steal from wizard. He lets the last part sink in a moment.
"Well, get on with it search for the bag."
Astrianna's eye twitches when she is referred to as lesser magic. The bard has to use every ounce of self-control in her being to handle Sam's demeaning attitude, and she swears one day she will find some way to humiliate him.
"Yes, Jalia. Why she hid it I care not to ask." She chuckles at his statement about them being fools. "I perfer to call it "brave"."
When he gives them permission to search for the bag, Astrianna relaxes a bit. "Thank you, Sam." She immediately begins searching, looking under display cases and behind shelves, or anywhere else she times Jalia might have hidden the bag. She also hopes Sam doesn't have that many bags of holding.
Bri remains quiet during the interaction, not wanting to draw too much of his attention in case he turned out to be upset about their entry.
Astri after looking around the shop for a good 20 minutes you finally locate the bag that Chell described to you, it was tucked behind a strange chest and a quilt that's pattern seems to be hypnotically moving.
To Sam's perverse pleasure he had spent the better part of the time watching you bend and stretch searching his shelves. When you finally find what you are looking for he comments, "So is that it? Is that what you disturbed my sleep for?" Motioning to the counter to lay the item out.
Astrianna could frankly care less about Sam's probing eyes- either she was stopping the wereshark calamity about to occur, or she was getting on the Baron and leaving Shaw to the sharks. I'm surprised Sam hasn't developed glasses that can see through clothes.
The bard unceremoniously drops the bag on the counter. "Were you expecting more fanfare? I certainly was."
She knows she's entirely outclassed by Sam, but she refuses to ask him for any more assistance. Retrieving a wand from her bag, Astrianna casts detect magic with one hand and flicks the wand of Identify with the other. Emerald eyes focus intensely on the bag.
You are looking a declarative high quality Type III bag of holding. The material used and quality of the stitching is itself impressive. A eye-tutning lady's luxury item.
Sam intensely watches.
Astrianna's eyebrows raise. "Jalia doesn't skimp on the accessories..." She opens up the bag, reaching inside and thinking of the Jawbone.
No curses.
Astri's dark emerald eyes shine with hope as she tugs out the 2 foot Jawbone. Excitedly she feels a sense of accomplishment.
"You know, these items were found in my shop and therefore belong to me. That trinket seems to have a lot of value to several groups of people...Jalia, your party, the Tutila, the crazed wereshark, and I'm there's a few others." Astri your heart plummets to the floor as the wizard speaks. "Of course, there is the biggest factor of all it cost me a peaceful night sleep."
Sargas continues to bellow and direct the crowd, roaring as if he were dealing with a mutiny, organizing anybody and everybody including the dragoons into a bucket brigade.
Chell and Sargas organize the work the best they can, and you are able to stem the flames from leaping to other structures. Unfortunately,there is too much damage to the chapterhouse itself and it's timbers eventually crack, sending the structure collapsing to the ground. Nervously, people do head counts....rescuing survivors and sorting victims. Father Zalen is not among those that you can locate.
Work kept Chell focused. Even before she could use magic she was quite accustomed to getting her hands dirty and wasn't afraid of hard work. Magic just made it a whole lot easier. She had gotten used to that ease and it was making her frustrated now. There were so many spells capable of making this easier and faster and safer. And she had none of them prepared. So it was up to elbow grease and determination to help now. She regretted her spell selection even more when she heard Zalen was not around. But she knew better than to run into a burning building.
When it collapsed, she let out a cry of despair. The chapterhouse was gone, and Father Zalen was still missing.
------
The chapterhouse begins to smoulder as the bucket brigade gets on the flame under control.
Sorrin isn't a magicker, but neither is he one to be brow beaten. I've little grasp of these things. But, technically... Only the bag was in your shop, the Jawbone was not.
Astrianna brought it here, just a moment ago. Neh?
"Bravo!" The wizard howls. Shaking his head, "I need to remember that one." He stares at the jawbone for bit, "No magic, not even masked magic. Why is this important to you?"
Sorrin smiles, accepting the compliment.
Tulita legend has it as artifact, relic... We need it to save Port Shaw from Dajobas and the plague of lycanthropy he unleashes... even, now.
I'm no silver tongued liar, same as I'm no burglar... But, that would be bad for business, wouldn't you think?
The shop keep glances over at Astri and smirks, "Lover's quarrel?" He pauses to give her time for a tart response.
After a few moments he continues unemotionally, "Dajobas, and the plague of lycanthrophy, simply brings forth a different type of client requiring my unique skills."
Astrianna has to hand it to Sorrin, he handled that well. Not that she was going to admit it. The bard twirls the jawbone in her hand like a baton, shrugging at the mage- she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response. "Sam, we'd love to stay and chat, but I intend on writing this one down in history about how we all saved Port Shaw from a bloodbath."
She begins to leave, slipping the jawbone into her handy haversack."Thank you for your help. Enjoy the makeup purse of holding."
Astri nonchalantly replies to the wizard and moves to the door. Bri opens it for the comrades departure. The city is coming to life.
Once outside it's clear that something "Big" occurred in the dock district. A few passersby quick step to join chaos.
You are finally satisfied that the docks are not in danger of flash fires. The charred rubble continues to smoulder. Good news: only two dead and nine injured from the blaze. Unfortunately, Father Zalen is still unaccounted for. Survivors report seeing him inside helping out but that was before the roof collapse.
The docks are alive with activity now. Along with the movement are the whispers that begin to buzz.
While the remainder of the building smolders, Chell moves among the less injured people that made it out of the building asking what happened and where Father Zalen was.
Unfortunately she is none to gentle as she grabs the first man by the lapels and gives him a small shake. "What in the name of all the gods happened here?" she asks, frantic.
Astrianna sighs as they exit, sniffing the air. "Certainly doesn't smell like the volcano. I'm going to find out what happened, then we should return the Jawbone to the tulita elders."
She catches the eyes of some strangers, and approaches them. "Heard there was something happening down on the docks... fill a lady in?" The bard winks.
"Chapt'r house just 'ploded...BOOM!" He scratches his head.
Sargas stands, frustrated, with his hands on his hips as the chapterhouse collapses. That signals an end to his frantic efforts; while the other buildings remain safe, he takes a moment to simply stare at the futility of their efforts.
Finally, rousing himself, he begins to ask around the crowd to see who knows anything, if anybody knows how this all got started.
Chell looks out the towny dumbfounded. "I know. I was here for one of them," she says slowly, the intensity in her eyes borders anger. She turns away from him before doing something she is going to regret. If they didn't know what happened she would have to find out herself. She grabs one of the buckets or water from the fire crew and pours it over herself. She then begins sifting through the smoldering remains looking for survivors...or bodies. Once inside she prays for a miracle and sends a wave of positive energy over the structure, hoping to stabilize any survivors long enough to save them.
Chell looks out the towny dumbfounded. "I know. I was here for one of them," she says slowly, the intensity in her eyes borders anger. She turns away from him before doing something she is going to regret. If they didn't know what happened she would have to find out herself. She grabs one of the buckets or water from the fire crew and pours it over herself. She then begins sifting through the smoldering remains looking for survivors...or bodies. Once inside she prays for a miracle and sends a wave of positive energy over the structure, hoping to stabilize any survivors long enough to save them.
To Sargas' amazement he sees Chell act a quickly and without regard to her safety.
Without hesitancy Quell's chosen douses herself with water and enters the unstable building. She weaves around, locating a small opening that she squeezes into. Her senses heightened by adrenaline, fear, and God. With a bit of maneuvering she locates a small closet opening, debris blocks the doorway. "...<co..cou...couch> help" It's the sound of life lingering.
As you pick up tidbits of information, the realization is clear: Evil has gained a foothold. The can see the Chapterhouse has collapsed and the air has a think acidic taste to it. All the alchemy fire that was being purchased was intended to attack this house of worship.
The crowd is rushing around frantically and the talk is Father Zalen is dead. In the distance you can see Chell dousing herself with water then dashing towards the rubble.
Astrianna's eyebrows nearly shoot into the sky when she sees Chell run into the smoldering building. "I knew that girl would die foolishly." She shakes her head, calmly walking towards the smoldering chapter house.
As she goes, the bard starts giving orders, looking people in the eye, and giving instructions to the lackadaisical fire brigade that formed. "Get more water! Douse these embers! All of them! You, with the gloves, pull out thelumber! Get this cleared and look for survivors!"
"I'm coming," Chell says. The priestess moves through the rubble, mindful of any structure that might still collapse. The rescuer needing rescuing? Pathetic. Once she is finally to the cabinet she begins moving things slowly. "I'm here. Just wait a moment. I'll get you out.
Astri your golden tongue finagles the group to become better organized and work in unity.
Meanwhile Chell works on the door, but the debris is heavy and the work is slow. She does hear tapping on the other side - a signal of life! the rubble shifts during her work, but she knows enough to keep the ceiling form collapsing on her. You eventually jimmy the door open 3 inches and see the room is lit. It's an storage closet and you can see two children, a female, and Father Zalen within.
"Oh thank Quell," Chell exclaims. "Zalen what happened. No never mind. After. Just need to...move...this." Chell grunts in effort as she moves more heavy debris from the path of the door. Enough to let the ones inside, out safely.
Chell is tugging on a heavy piece of wood and hears a pop...a hernia.
Oh gods. Old man pains. Why do I have old man pains? "Help! I found survivors!" After her failed attempt to move the debris, Chell finally decides she can't handle this alone and calls for help.
After a bit of struggle Father Zalen helps Chellget the door open enough for everyone to escape. Chell leads the way picking through the debris retracing her path to fresh air. To the crowd's amazement survivors emerge from the rubble.
The morning sun has broken the horizon.
Sargas hears Chell's cry for help too late - he's wondered down by the dock to see about organizing a more effective bucket chain so as to stamp out the last of the cinders.
When he gets back and sees the others arriving, he strides up, eyes wide as he realizes that Chell actually went into the burned building.
"Does anybody know how this fire started?"
One of the townie on-lookers shrugs, "Big boom..mag'c...fun'ie type of potion fire...maybe. All the strange folks mixin' and tinker'n wit stuff that ain's suppose to be messed wit."
The current time is 6;50 am, the sun is up and the town is busy. There is lots of chatter about what happened and those not involved are on lookers, or dockhands heading to work.
Astri you pick up enough information that this was an alchemy explosion and it was well planned. Then One person tells you, " Three large 'uns did this. Saw 'em sneak'n 'bout when I was work'n, but they were scary look'n...not quite human, if you know what I mean." there's a pause. "I was darn right scared meself, I stayed in me room and didn't dare to move." She motions up to the boarding house where she's stays.
Astrianna clicks her tongue. Weresharks. The minions of Dajobas seem to be highly coordinated. The bard nods to the woman. "Rightly so. I'd recommend you stay indoors tonight."
The half-elf motions to the others, and begins to leave, first heading towards the Baron. "We must go see Mololi Ali'i. Perhaps the Jawbone can inspire the Tulita to find a cure for people with the mark, or worst case scenario we enlist their help to fight on the streets tonight. Saegen would be a good test to see if they can cure the lycantrophy, let's retrieve him."
As you get back on the docks you notice that Bonedeuce's Pride is no longer moored near the Fort. In fact, it's not in the harbor at all.
The docks are stirring with activity and much chatter about the explosion. Dark rumors dominate the morning. Some entrepreneurial souls have even started selling "curse" removals and "wards" for protection.
As you walk the docks you see a group on onlookers gathered. The speaker's eyes quaver and his lips tremble as he launches into
his tale:
“We’s a ways out. Making hard time. The wind was against us see, and we’d just passed Beacon Island by the bloody settlin’ in o’ dusk. That’s when the sloop gave a mighty lurch. We hit something, so the captain thought at first, but no... it felt like somethin’, well, like somethin’ hit us. Then the sloop rocked again and the cap’n feared we’d run upon the shoals, but before he could snap an order somethin’ slammed our port side hard. The captain lost his footin’ and tumbled into the deep. That’s when I saw it, I did. Blacker than the darkness,
blacker than the night’s water around us...”
“Ain’t no such thing...as a black shark!” A young man on the edge of the crowd snaps.
“Night black it were! These eyes been at crow’s nest for thirty years!” The old man snarls in retort.
“Thirty years ago t’were sharp is sure, but not so now you old sea dog. Sun on the water burned out your eyes years ago.” A few laughs answer this retort, but no real mirth flows from them.
“Batten yer hatch. What’s a guppy like yerself know from sharks? It were blacker than the heart of midnight.”
“There be no such thing!” insists the youngster.
A voice, like a knife across a stone, cuts the air: “There be a black shark.” The crowd parts to reveal an ancient man of the sea. His leathery skin stretched over his bones, he raises his right arm to silence the boy’s reply. The arm ends in a cold black iron hook. The old man’s one good hand clutches a wooden crutch, supporting his wracked frame. His leather breeches are cut off at the knees and two gnarled wooden pegs, chipped and scratched from wear, extend from the stumps of what remains of his legs. “There be a black shark.” His voice rasps once more.
A thick silence settles over the crowd then; no one wants to debate the shark’s existence any more. One of the younger fishermen even hazards a glance off the pier as if he expects a dark fin to crest the waves at any moment. With muttered excuses and leave-takings the crowd of fishermen breaks up, leaving the old man alone on the pier, his back to the dock, staring across the roiling sea.
You've seen this ancient fisherman who appears to be a local authority on sharks and just about everything else on the docks before, but you've never interacted with him. He is known simply as Old Craw, no one remembers his given name.
Sorrin places a gold coin down near Old Crawh, Speak on, father... Tell us, please.
“The sharks got their god back. The black shark comes. We’re all as good as dead. You ask the Tulita. The old shamans know about the dark times.”