Chell didn't need to ask Father Zalen about how things were going here. They were going very badly. Brutish beastly men, likely weresharks, had blown up the chapter house. When they got back to the port, Bonedeuce's ship was gone. Was it coincidence or was he part of it? The people were starting to panic and sightings of the shark they needed to kill were popping up. Chell turns to Astrianna. "Can I have my share from the island? I need to get something before we find the Tulita."
Astrianna quirks a brow at Chell, who smell like burning debris and looks like it to boot. She waggles her fingers, casting Prestidigitation and cleaning the priestess up while she speaks. "You just ran into a burning building to rescue one of the most powerful priests in Shaw and hapless bystanders. I should be paying you for the story material. Of course you can have your share. I'd do your shopping quickly, though." A mischievous gleam sparkles in her eye. Even if things go poorly, there will be a lot of chaos and looting... it isn't stealing if the shopkeepers are dead, right?
Astrianna gives Chell a loan on her share for a moment, sending the priestess off smelling like warm oatmeal.
On the way back to the ship to retrieve Seagan, the appearance of Old Craw was certainly unforeseen. Astrianna is briefly stunned by how old and decrepit the man was. Certainly not getting many ladies these days. Can't he afford a to get those limbs regenerated?
Still, the bard respectfully regards the old sea-dog. "Old Craw... What happened to the last black shark? How did they kill it?"
Chell is too shell shocked by the damage to do more than take the money and mutter, "Thanks." She is about to leave when she realizes that the enemy is here and she is likely a very big target. "I hate to ask again but can someone go with me to Featherthorn's?"
Chell navigates the streets of Port Shaw more than a little nervous. The enemy had proved how far they would go stop them and how far they planned ahead. Outside the door she pauses. She had put the item she had ordered on hold and it had been a lot longer than the agreed upon time. She was also severely short on the price. Hopefully the situation would make him more amenable to give a discount. If nothing else, maybe she could take a loan or promise services.
She pushes the door open and walks in, ready to cut any deal necessary.
The cleric and her companion enter the Featherton's. The strange gnome looks up form a concoction he is brewing. "Still alive, eh?" He looks back down and completes his precise measurements.
"For now," she says feeling a little pessimistic. Seriously, it wasn't for lack of trying. "I must get straight to the point too. That explosion was a precursor to what is about to befall the city and item I ordered may help persuade the only ones capable of helping. It sounds stupid, I know, but I need the item I ordered. I have 4000. I was hoping we could work something out on the remaining 3. A loan, services rendered, divine spells cast, scrolls? Something?"
The creepy looking gnome looks up from his spectacles. "Do I look like a house of charity or a brothel for your services rendered." He runs his finger tips over his lips as he pets his lips. He glances over a the large half-orc. "That was a wicked explosion, the blood moon will rise tonight." He picks up an odd looking leaf and crushes it before putting it in his potion. It fizzles, smokes, and then sprouts a quick flane. He quickly gulps it down. He finishes with a loud burp. "Most excellent results in the knick of time. I should good for few hours." Then looks back at the two of you as if to say you're still here. "Yes...yes what services do you render?"
Chell took a look around the room. He seemed the meticulous sort, a little strange, but fair and good at what he did. At least that was the impression she got. A question popped into her head at that moment. She wasn't sure if she should ask it but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Would you like a pet?"
"What kind of pet?" Birds squawk too much and dogs always bite me. don't like dogs much." Absentmindedly he shuffles off ot the next vat of concoction that he is brewing, after a few moments he looks over a the half-orc. "No conversationalist with that one, I see. By the way are you warded from the bites? He sprinkles a few herbs in bubling yellow and white liquid. He groans a bit when the potion turn black, then he slams his hand on his table...."Ruined. It must be precise....precise and you live, wrong and your gone. May as well woof at the moon." he mumbles out loud.
I really should have brought Astri to negotiate. And what is her brewing? Did he do that of his own volition or did Father Zalen mention it. Wonder how much that costs? Nevermind. More than I have. "A wyvern actually. A live one or you could hatch it yourself."
He smirks then hops off his chair and scurries over to a bookshelf. His fingers run over a few spines, before settling on one which he pulls out. He opens it to the exact page. "A wyvren, huh," He glances back to his labratory. Turnign the page he nods . "Deal."
"Now what was it that I was suppose to make for you/" His eyes moves up and down.
All the while Sargas stands at the back, arms crossed, listening intently but making no move to join a conversation he doesn't quite understand.
Oh good. That's settled. "To be clear, the live youngling or the unhatched one? Also you were making a modified Cauldron of Plenty. And can we get this in writing, assuming we still have authority figures after tonight?"
"Two? You have two?" Trying to contain his glee. "Both of course." He rubs his hands together in a greedy fashion. He clearly didn't catch your comment that you had an egg and a youngling.
Oh, that's right you have the pot I was tinkering with yesterday."
To Astri and her group. "Ain't nobody ever kilt it. It just went t'other places or hunt'n grounds." He paves his iron hook. "Some say the Tultia helped push it off and the other ancient gods. Maybe now those gods 'ave left us with all this filth." he motions back a thte port.
"Now as a young'un I lost me arm t'a tiger shark, just plain tore'd it off as casual as could be, when I's was passing near the edge of the
harbor with a swim." he stopmps his two wooden peg legs. "Lost these his to sharks. When me fishing sloop sank ten years ago in a squall, gripped me a plank, and went white-knuckled for hours, before the sharks came. Held me legs out of the water for hours more before his muscles gave out and the bale-sharks took 'em apart below the knees, bite by agonizing bite."
Da'rash of shark attacks have claim'd the lives of several sailors and fishermen, leaving more folks missing limbs like me. It ain’t natural. Dark times is comin’. A black shark means dark times.”
He hawks up a big glob of spit brownish green spit, chews it a second or two, then expels it out onto the docks near Astri's sparkling boots. "'eard 'bout what y'all have been doin'." He nods approvingly. "“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.”
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Astrianna appears to be listening to Old Craw with intense interest, holding her hand over her mouth in thought. In reality, she's... only half listening. It could rake in money hand-over-fist in Shaw if I was a priestess with access to regeneration magic. All these sailors and their missing limbs! Who cares how much they can pay, as long as they pay! Divine magic is essentially free, huge profit margin. I just have to screw enough people and Calistria will surely grant me her favor, right? I'm pretty sure that's how it works.
The bard snaps out of her train of thought, quirking a brow as the disgusting glob of spit lands near her immaculate boots. "Oh. Yes, it has certainly been... dark lately. But you'll see, Old Craw. You'll live to see we're here to make a difference- we're professionals, and if that black shark can be killed, we will kill it." She nods, convincing herself that what she said was true. Glibness, it seems, works both ways. "I'd stay in doors tonight, old-timer..." Astrianna warns as she sets off towards the ship to collect the monk and his pseudodragon before seeing the Tulita.
The gnome walks over to cabinet and pulls out Chell's pot. "I finished it up last night....interesting device. I did good work...naturally." He places it on the table for you inspect it as he eagerly waits for the egg and youngling presentation.
"Satisfied, I assume." He grins. "Anything else you need?"
"Both? No, you said deal to wyvern, not two. To hand over both I'd need something from you now." She wasn't sure why she was arguing right now but for some reason she felt like she should be getting a better deal. She looks over to the pot he was stirring earlier. "If that wards from the bites I could use a few." 5 or 6 should do.
"Feisty one, you are." His ears wiggle. "Let's have the egg" "And I'll have some people pick up the youngling, I assume it's on the ship." He pours 6 vials of potion, the stoppers them. "Sprinkle these herbs in it, if it fizzles, smokes, and then sprouts a quick flame drink it immediately. If it doesn't it's a dud. Take it before sundown...it should last till sunrise."
Tulita, then. We must restore the Elder's faith.
You know anything about the Wave Riders or the Dragoons, Craw? Any information you can give us would be greatly appreciated.
"Deal, thank you. And yes, its on the ship." Chell puts the pot and potions in her bag, which swallows the whole thing without an obvious bulge. She then nods to Sargas so that they can leave. When she gets back to the ship summarizes. "I found a buyer for the wyvern's. Or in this case someone to trade with." She pulls out the vials and packets of powder. "Featherton was making a potion to help protect against bites from the creatures we are likely to face all night. I traded the live one for these," she says handing the out. "We're supposed to add the herbs. It should fizzle, smoke, and shoot a quick flame. If, if that happens, down it fast. If not, it didn't work. Take it before sun down and it should last the whole night." She then pulls the pot out. "I placed an order for this thinking to help the Tulita. When we met them last time they said food was an issue and the main reason they were forced to work deplorable conditions on the surrounding plantations. This will feed almost 40 people a day with no ingredients needing to be added. I spent a lot of my own personal money and traded the egg for this. It should help us secure some help from the Tulita. We have only today to convince them to help so I figured we could use the bargaining chip though I never meant for it to be used that way."
The peg legged man lowers his voice, "Talk t'Millauka he knows of herbs th't be good for bites." He scans the area before continuing. "Sarg. Darenar is bad people...bad people. He and Capt Donovan have bad blood 'bout the warhammer. Sarg won the ol' hammer Maelstrom from the drunken captain at dice." He hacks up another luggy and spits it out on the deck.
Street
Astrianna nods in response to Old Craw mentioning Darenar. "So we have heard... I have seen Maelstrom, and it is too fine a weapon to be wielded by such a louse."
Ship
The bard listens to Chell's explanation of the deal with arms folded over her chest. She glances at the herbs with a bit of incredulity, but accepts them none-the-less. The magic pot is certainly more interesting to her. She looks it over, feeling the edge. "This is an impressive magic item, hopefully it doesn't make too bland of food. Not that starving people complain about taste. It would be extremely useful on the ship with some taste magic..." One look at Chell shoots down that idea, and she sighs. "All right, though I think the Jawbone will certainly be enough to convince them."
She taps a finger to her lips. "It's a shame you couldn't tune this thing to mass-produce potions thrown into it, or something."
Chell looks at the pot, considering the possibility. "If someone managed that they'd be exceedingly rich and potions would be affordable for everyone." She stands there silently, eyes glazed over as she thinks about the implications. She shakes her head to get rid of the distracting thoughts. "No. We have this and the bone. Who do we even talk to about it?"
Astrianna sighs, a rare moment of guilt crossing her face. It's a shame Millianuka is probably hanging from a crucifix somewhere in Fort Stormshield. Crazy old man could have assisted us greatly. She does have an answer, however. "Mololi Ali'i, the tribal leader of the Shaw tulita, is the best person to talk to right now."
Prior conversation and Tutila description
As you venture out towards the Tutila shanties you eventually come across a group of children. They seem to flock towards Chell, tugging at her clothing, they seem less interested in Astri. Except one small little girl wearing a treadbare tunic does approach Astri, she carries a torn doll that has stuffing hanging out but the doll does have thin stick (resembling a rapier if you use your imagination) and funny floppy hat with long hair. She smiles, her front two teeth are missing. She then offers the doll to the adventurer. She points to the doll and then to Astri, then from Astri to the doll.
Two adults appear both nod and wave you forward.
Fond memories spring forth in Chell's mind from their last visit. While Astri negotiated she had played with the children. She mentally berates herself for not thinking of bringing something for them to play with.She gently resists their pulling and shoos them back to there games. She had an important gift to present to the people. And she would need to pay attention this time and not send a ball flying at the face of the man they came to meet.
Astrianna sighs as the children block the way, oohing and ahhing over Chell as usual. She can have an audience of urchins. I'll take everyone else. Hands on hips, the bard is waiting for the crowd to disperse when she notices one of the little girls approaching her.
She raises an eyebrow skeptically at the doll, but then realizes that it's supposed to be... her. A mixture of emotions swirl through her battling between disgust at the ghastly representation of her otherwise regal beauty and the sweetness of the simple and heart warming gesture of a struggling girl.
A warm flush fills her heart and a soft smile creeps over her face as her more caring side wins out- after all, who is she to turn down a fan? Even if they were small and grubby.
Kneeling down, Astrianna gingerly takes the doll. "My, what a beautiful doll you have! Is this for me?" The question was rhetorical of course, but she was at a loss of what exactly to say. "It looks like shes ready to fight a wyvern! Though she'd much rather be playing the fiddle." With a waggle of her fingers the bard casts prestidigitation, creating a tiny crude fiddle (strangely, thematically appropriate for the doll), making the doll play it in a spritely manner. "Ah! The crowd! They can't control their feet- they're compelled to dance!" She laughs, getting a little more into it than expected.
At this time Chell would be pulling forward to meet with the elders, and Astrianna glances over in her direction. Looking back to the little girl, she bites her lip. "Ah... I must go. Thank you... for this. Um.. here." Lifting up her hat, she pulls out the needle holding the bun of her hair together, causing her long, shining raven locks to tumble down over her face. She hands the hair needle to the little girl, the mother-of-pearl sparkling brightly in the morning sun. "When your hair gets this long, you can put it up and wear a hat just like mine."
Standing up, she makes her way towards Chell. With one last glance back at the little girl, she waves her goodbye, other hand still clutching the doll.
The little girl beams as Astri pays her some attention. She giggles with excitement when her heroine wiggles her fingers and the doll has fiddle. The little one begins to imitate the gesture when the others get the group moving again.
-----
A few moments later you are brought before elders.
"You come back...good to word," Mokoli Ali'i comments. A grim look is on his face, "We hear, but not see, Millliauka...the Kamaau, high shaman, was hung in Fort Death.
Two women step up and hand the guests two jugs of a spirit to welcome them to the camp. Handing one to Sorrin and the other Chell. They motion to drink and pass it around.
"Drink...drink. Eat the worm." The clan gathers around. "You have any luck with task?"
Chell takes the drink out of respect and gives an involuntary shake after taking a sip of the alcohol. "With one task, yes. She says waving Astrianna forward to give him the Jawbone. [b]"You said the past and future of the Tulita disappeared with it. We return it to you with the hope you can save Port Shaw's future too." She lets Astrianna elaborate while she digs through her pack for the cauldron.
The kids giggle when CHell shakes involuntarily shakes. Chell thrusts the bottle towards the others. Eyes squinted tightly.
"You have Jawbone?" Mokoli Ali'i asks. A level of excitement grows in the crowd.
Astrianna seemed to fair worse then the priestess and momentarily lost control of her gag reflex. To cover, Chell stepped forward. "We did. Quell guided me to its location. We retrieved it and brought it back to the place it rightly belongs," she says removing the artifact from the bard's pouch with great care. As she hands it over she let's them take a moment to verify it is real before moving to the most importatn part of the night. "I return to you your future, in the hopes you will help protect ours. Dojobas' power will peak this night and, as one of his thralls once said, drown the town in a blood-washed kiss. Which sounds dreadful if you ask me. We've heard you may be the only ones able to even help stop this from happening. And we don't expect you to do this for free," she says bringing the pot forward. "This, I think, should help alleviate the burden you bare. Its a magical cauldron capable of feeding almost 40 people a day all three meals or many more if they only one. It isn't much but its all we could come up with in a day."
"It's a replica...a fake! Hang the usurpers...lets cook 'em."
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Sorrin is happy to provide the Tulita with good news and moreover, perhaps a tool to protect themselves and the land.
The young man brings the beverage to his lips, but it is not his custom to drink.
I must ask, forgive me. The Elder... Is his mind clear of the fog?
The elder grabs the jug from Sorrin and takes deep swig then passes it to Astri. He slaps his temple a few times, "Clear head...good."
she says bringing the pot forward. "This, I think, should help alleviate the burden you bare. Its a magical cauldron capable of feeding almost 40 people a day all three meals or many more if they only one. It isn't much but its all we could come up with in a day."
A hush befalls the Tulita when the great cauldron gift is presented to them by the cleric. All eyes are on the cleric. "Magical food to fill bellies? A skeptical look crosses Mokoli Ali'i's face. "Show me." His brow raises as he peeks warily over the edge of the pot.
"Raven hair you have jawbone?"
"Of course," Chell says. She takes the cauldron to a table and touches it saying the command word. Slowly it begins to fill with water. Half way to being full the water changes consistency and color. Bits of potato and meat being to float to the top. By the time the cauldron it completely full the smell of a lightly simmering vegetable soup is wafting through the air. "Try it."
The elder man takes a ladle full of stew and eats it. He grins widely. "Mighty gift...much thanks." He motions to a few others who come forth and begin to serve the meal. A few grumble bellied children watch jostle for a place in line.
Astrianna takes the bottle in hand, tipping it back to her mouth... but avoiding drinking it. Unlike Sorrin, she had a different plan.
The worm slowly sinks in the potent liquid, and as it settles near the opening the half-elf sucks it and the surrounding alcohol into her mouth in a single gulp. Tipping forward Astrianna coughs, hitting her chest with one hand while passing on the bottle with the other. She shakes her head, and inhales sharply. You're on stage.
As hungry mouths gather around the magical cauldron, the bard flourishes her hat to Mokoli Ali'i. "Your hospitality is most appreciated, Elder. As Chell says, a blood-red darkness descends on Port Shaw very soon. The waves whisper the Tulita may be our only hope for salvation."
She gestures to the prietess, other hand reaching into her haversack. "The priestess was granted a vision. A visage from Quell, she says, but I suspect differently. Whale seeks to return to The Razor. She has reached out to us- and to the people that gave her faith for so long, to fight back the encroaching minions of the Shark."
Astrianna draws the Jawbone from her bag with precisely calculated, agonizing speed, laying it across her palms. She presents it to Mokoli Ali'i. "Stolen, now returned. The pride of the Tulita was also stolen- Let us reclaim it now, together."
At this point Mokoli Ali'i's face was starting to look a little strange and colorful... ...Oof... Maybe should have saved the worm for later...Oh, but he looks so handsome in that shade of indigo.
When Chell displays her magical gift the elder speaks clearly, "Blonde hair brings us mighty gift from the dolphin to help us fight against hunger." He places his hand on the cauldron, "The Tutila hunger no more!"