"Gather 'ere you foolish scallywags and list'n up. There be wretched creatures as big'n as this tavern, twice as wide too, that'll swallow ya whole out there under the sea, but that's a better fate than those sailors cursed wit' the black spot. Some say it's a curse from th' Demon Below other's say it a mark of a traitor, but mark me words, those bearing the judgment of the ace of spades... doom all t'death."
- Drunken sailor the night before setting sail
In the limited time, you’ve been in Port Shaw you’ve learned a bit of history, most of which concerns death, greed, and destruction. The Razor Coast has drawn men to madness and slaughter since the world was young. Tulita natives, born from the same fire as this jagged coast, claim the Razor existed long before the world’s other lands. It is a crucible of flame cooled by the ocean’s caress and its mountains, reefs, and lightless depths teem with as many terrors as lustrous spoils. The Razor bucks the trappings of civilization in much the same manner the storm-tossed sea spurns the men who dare mount her. This is no place for the weak-willed. Untested souls are food for its storms, its fickle gods, its ancient spirits, and the evil predations of unfathomable creatures. No less dangerous are the men who make the coast their home and whose dark desires put most horrors to shame.
The town clings to the coast like the sea’s most stubborn barnacle, impossible to scrape from the Razor’s edge. At times it limps along, vexed by demons, angry gods, cannibal tribes, dread pirate armadas and worse; but at present the city thrives as foreign vessels flock to its harbor, their holds hungry for whale oil and other treasures. Port Shaw menaces and delights in equal extremes. Treasures and pleasures abound in this whaling boomtown, but evil and abandon take almost every soul who comes her way. This playground of pirates is ruled by the crushing fist of the Municipal Dragoons and filled with both the ancient curses of the coast’s Tulita natives and dark secrets of its own. It is an easy place to die, and a town where countless legends are born.
For a variety of reasons you find that you are without a ship and are stranded in this cesspool, but you’ve a lead on a Captain Rigg’s, who is looking for some armed, experienced guards to serve as his and the ship’s security. Captain Rigg’s has a caravel, The Sealord’s Blessing, harbored and a meeting is to take place at a rundown dockside tavern. The Run Aground Tavern is a ramshackle little cabin of a tavern, right on Pier 22 in Port Shaw's Tide District, it' s a haven for the many downtrodden souls within the wretched port city.
You enter the tavern…
Location: The Run Aground Tavern
Time: 8 midday bells
Ship: The Sealord's Blessing
NPC: Captain Colthyn Rigg's
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Entering the tavern is a human man wearing nothing besides a pair of dirty linen pants rolled up to the ankles and a white sweat soaked bandana.
He is well muscled and tanned from his many days working at the docks. As a regular here at the tavern he sits at the bar and orders his tea as usual to end his day. He strikes up a conversation with his friend the bartender Tristan.
Well buddy perhaps my ship has come in today...literally, have you seen a stranger by the name of Colthyn Rigg. He is captain of the sealords blessing
Davkas surveyed the familiar tavern as he entered. He had come here often, whenever his own Captains ship was in Port. Not from Port Shaw himself but as familiar with the place as any sailor who'd come up this coast. This was the non glamourus side of sailing. Port to Port many of these taverns were the same.
He quickly surveyed the scene, the usual lot were here, sailors keen to unload all their coin on whatever pleasures they could afford before their ships sailed again. This time his circumstances were different.
The learning Wizard has finally gleaned some real power from his studies and it seemed his good Captain owed this Captain Riggs a favor.
The Virgin's Bane is grounded for repairs and will be for at least 2 months. I'm happy ta set most o the crew off till we are running again, but not you. I know a Captain here, lookin fer a Mage ta hire on and they be in short supply here. Ye can hire on ta keep yourself in coin, but I want you back as soon as we can sail. Your quarters will be a stateroom when you return with that proper library you been asking for. Boy, you been a boon since we discovered your talent and I reward loyalty and talent. Ye make sure you return. Keep all pay from your journey and I'll up her cut to equal a Captain's 2nd in Command.
His own Captain WAS a good man and worth serving under. So let's see what profit and power this Rigg fellow had in the meantime. He already had a comfortable position. Now it was time to make a NAME.
A slim woman enters the tavern, loose and amused smirk on her face as her sharp eyes scan the room. She is a very pretty human with strait golden hair and bright blue eyes - well one eye. Her right eye is covered by a plain-looking eye patch. She has an uncountable number of baubles and trinkets on her person. A bright red shawl rests on her shoulders, held by a sapphire brooch. Around her neck is a small necklace of shark's teeth, and hanging farther down is a wooden holy symbol of Besmara. She has dreadlocks and a light brown tricorn hat. She enters the room with a confident swagger and makes her way strait to the bar.
However despite her appearance she's rather vexed. Her ship was lost to a pair of law-keeper boats that actually managed to pin her down. She managed to get out with a disguise and some good lies, but either way her ship and crew was lost, and that's no way to live. "Barkeep! Rumboozle, and keep the bottle out!" She calls to whoever is behind the bar as she finds a spot. As she waits for her drink she turns and leans against the bar, scanning the crowd again.
Her attention is caught by the scantily-clad man close to her. "Oi, I look for the same man. It seems we are to sail together." She offers a thin and lightly scarred hand. "Revhi. If you want the blessings of the Pirate Queen, you'll be plenty nice to me." She says with a wink and a smile.
The stout dwarven barkeep wipes his scarred bar with his dirty towel, "High spend'rs like you gonna drive me under those wretched waves. Tea...a pot o'tea." He shakes his head but perks up when the slim woman steps up to the bar. "A bottle O'rumboozle, ye shall have." He smirks and his stubby cigar's ash falls on the plank bar.
He pulls out a bottle and couple glasses, he clearly intends to share a cup of the rumboozle. "Tea be ready in a minute." So you lookin' fer Capt Riggs." His eyes then go to the door as Davkas enters. 'No palor tricks tonight Davkas...I'm warnin' ya guud, or you'll meet knotty, me club."
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The stout dwarven barkeep wipes his scarred bar with his dirty towel, "High spend'rs like you gonna drive me under those wretched waves. Tea...a pot o'tea." He shakes his head
If ya got job that pays betta than dockwork, I beuh takin it
Marcus says to Falgor doing a horrible imitation of the dwarf's accent.
Yes, this stranger and I are looking for Capt. Riggs, for what I don't know. I was told to be here by the harbormaster so here I am
He belly laughs hard, nearly spilling some of his rumboozle. He lift it and gulps it down. He wipes his face with the dirty towel he's been using to clean the bar with. "Well... that nervous one ov'r there be Capt. Rigg's." He thumbs over to the table where there is man is talking to another.
You notice the Captain looks on edge and nervous. He is wearing a faded captain's jacket and heavy duelist's gloves, and his finely crafted rapier is unsheathed laying on the table. His fingers near the bucket hilt. He seems to be concluding his business with the other man at his table.
Revhi grimaces as her hand is halfway crushed, but doesn't appear to mind the pain too much. "Careful now, that's no way to treat a lady." She takes the glass of rumboozle with an approving grin to Falgor, taking a deep gulp in a very unladylike fashion. She swivels to eye the captain, then says out of the corner of her mouth. "So, can you tell us anything about him?"
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Revhi grimaces as her hand is halfway crushed, but doesn't appear to mind the pain too much. "Careful now, that's no way to treat a lady."
Sorry bout that...All i do is lift and pull all day.
He then turns and eyeballs the captain
I suppose it's only right to wait until he is done with this other fellow
Anything of note about the other man?
Jean-Phillipe walks into the tavern, scowling. A quick look-about deepens his scowl. He goes straight to the bartender. "Something strong."
The stout dwarven barkeep wipes his scarred bar with his dirty towel, "High spend'rs like you gonna drive me under those wretched waves. Tea...a pot o'tea." He shakes his head but perks up when the slim woman steps up to the bar. "A bottle O'rumboozle, ye shall have." He smirks and his stubby cigar's ash falls on the plank bar.
He pulls out a bottle and couple glasses, he clearly intends to share a cup of the rumboozle. "Tea be ready in a minute." So you lookin' fer Capt Riggs." His eyes then go to the door as Davkas enters. 'No palor tricks tonight Davkas...I'm warnin' ya guud, or you'll meet knotty, me club."
The human holds up a hand defensively, his cloak raised to the side as part of the action. It revealed a leather armored belly plate, which to the uninitiated would seem to be an incomplete set with no other piece.
In truth, it was a limited defense to the most commonly stabbed area. Davkas was not proficient with true armor, waering heavy metal was ill advised on a ship and the added bulk interfered with his spells.I would extoll the advantages of having a ships Wizard as a patron good Falgor, but you have seen too much in your time to care no doubt. I'll refrain from spells as long as you agree to not lace my water with the poison every one here is so intent on killing themselves with and we can both be the only 2 sober creatures in here enjoying the behaviors of the drunk and foolsih, eh?
Davkas sat down. He did not know the barkeep well enough to be called friend. But as a customer who paid for the barkeep's ear at the same rate as the drinkers, Davkas had been welcome most times at the dwarfs bar.
He flipped a coin on the bench, Water as usual and then if you could direct me to someone. My ships in for maintenance and I've a mind on work while she's beached.
"Pot O'Tea and water...you'd think I'm runnin' a frilly lil'dress shop." When Jean-Phillipe walks in ordering something strong he pours a glass of the rumboozle for the human.
He wipes the bar with his dirty towel instinctively.
I haloed in yellow Capt Riggs, he is at the table in the bottom corner.
The man with Captain Colthyn Rigg's gets up gives a bit of bow, and then walks out the doorway. The Captain stares at his tin tankard, then takes a long draw. He motions to a serving wench that he's dry.
You recognize a few faces from the docks and a few sailors in the bar. One table of toughs are getting rowdy. You recognize one of the men as local bar fighter from the Broken Skull.
You sense Capt Rigg's is finalizing some sort of ship business.
Revhi inquires about the captain and bartender looks around quickly. "You buying the bottle and tippin"" He grins, the message that his lips could be pried open.
Revhi approves of the third rumboozle drinker, welcoming him next to her and slipping an arm around his shoulders. "Well hello there big strong and grim. What's got you so glowering today?"
She grins and slips a hand down her shirt, finding the strapped pouch where she keeps her money.
Old Falgor's weathered fingers snatch the coin up before it actually settled down the bar. "Well Captain Riggs is a fine and veter'n capt'n with a guud rep. Known to fair and discipline but moody, known to throw a tantrum or two." He takes another shot off of Revhi's bottle and pours another round to those partaking. "Some say he's troubled by some unknown affliction. Whatever it is, no one is certain." His thick forefinger thumps his temple when he discusses an "affliction." He continues on, Now, The Sealord's Blessing a fine ship, name says it all really, lots of little,..." He puts a finger over his lips thinking for the right word, "...well area to give the Quell thanks."
"No good captain doesn't have an angry streak now and then. Keeps the scallywags in line." She reminisces about some of her own tantrums. Those poor men. They didn't know what hit them. She raises an inquisitive brow and inspects the good captain.
Suddenly you hear the scrapping of the bar stool on the old wooden planks, and Marcus is on his feet walking towards the Captain.
Davkas listens since the barkeep was talking loud enough to include him in the conversation. He did not know these people but it seemed clear they were also after this Captain. He follows the man to the captains table.
Davkas Gellantara, Ship's Wizard to the Virgin's Bane. I'll wait if you are busy but my Captain said he owed you a favor so I was to see if you need my services for a job?
Marcus as you approach Captain Colthyn Rigg's table you see he sneers,a and instinctively wraps his fingers around his rapier's hilt. His piercing blue eyes suddenly blink when you speak. 'Umm, w..w..well yes, yes, that's right. Sit, sit." He looks around the the room nervously. "Yes...your the dockworker...heard you were good with your fists, is that true?" His voice has an edge to it. The serving wench comes over with two tin tankards for the Captain.
Dravkas speaks from behind Markus. "Alright....yes, Virgin's Bane she a fine merchant ship. Do have a seat." As you begin to sit down, he barks. "No...no, not there, NO... I said. You're blocking the door...NEVER block the door." His voice gets threatening, then he suddenly relaxes regaining his composure.
He stares at the two of you. "Well..." There is a long pregnant pause, "Where are the others?"
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Marcus as you approach Captain Colthyn Rigg's table you see he sneers,a and instinctively wraps his fingers around his rapier's hilt. His piercing blue eyes suddenly blink when you speak. 'Umm, w..w..well yes, yes, that's right. Sit, sit." He looks around the the room nervously. "Yes...your the dockworker...heard you were good with your fists, is that true?" His voice has an edge to it. The serving wench comes over with two tin tankards for the Captain.
I have some skills in the art yes... But I am curious as to why I am here
Dravkas speaks from behind Markus. "Alright....yes, Virgin's Bane she a fine merchant ship. Do have a seat." As you begin to sit down, he barks. "No...no, not there, NO... I said. You're blocking the door...NEVER block the door." His voice gets threatening, then he suddenly relaxes regaining his composure.
He stares at the two of you. "Well..." There is a long pregnant pause, "Where are the others?"
You mean besides Revhi
Revhi gives a long look and a wink at the thugs, but then makes her way over to her employer. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Captain. Just getting the lay of the land. Revhi, cleric of Besmara. Good to meet you."
The ranger turns to Revhi, shrugging away from the touch. "I look 'ere, see a captain, see you folk, and I know I got a 'ard road guidin you lot. I'll drink while I can."
"Thar you are...good, sit. It's time to talk employment." He leans into the table and whispers. "I've been asking and I heard you each have a talent, a talent that will..." He glances around. "...Keep me alive and The Sealord's Blessing safe." His head is on a swivel as he takes in the room. "I've some unscrupulous partners and there's many would like to get their hands on my ship and I need protection." He lets this sink in.
"See I've got some unsavory trade partners, who are always looking out for themselves and a bigger cut of the pie. Piracy, and back stabbing. I've had attempts on my life and damnit, I'm fed up with it." He exhausl and gains his breath. "500 gold ...each...NOW...1000 to each at the end of the 7 to 10 day journey to Carcass." He seems eager to strike a deal...actually he sounds desperate.
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"I get paid ze same, even if zese fools get zemselves killt? I mean, I do what I can, but
..." he gestures towards the big lunk, the mage, and the others. "Zese gweilos ...'oo knows 'oo zey are?"
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"Thar you are...good, sit. It's time to talk employment." He leans into the table and whispers. "I've been asking and I heard you each have a talent, a talent that will..." He glances around. "...Keep me alive and The Sealord's Blessing safe." His head is on a swivel as he takes in the room. "I've some unscrupulous partners and there's many would like to get their hands on my ship and I need protection." He lets this sink in.
Anyone in this bar? Marcus whispers
"See I've got some unsavory trade partners, who are always looking out for themselves and a bigger cut of the pie. Piracy, and back stabbing. I've had attempts on my life and damnit, I'm fed up with it." He exhausl and gains his breath. "500 gold ...each...NOW...1000 to each at the end of the 7 to 10 day journey to Carcass." He seems eager to strike a deal...actually he sounds desperate.
I was instructed to help you and help you I will. Is there anything we will be hauling that is out of the ordinary also please donate my portion to the iron brotherhood
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"Any good captain has their fair share of angry partners. I wouldn't trust you if you didn't." She chuckles and nurses her rumboozle.
As the callous human gestures towards them all in one, she spits on the ground. "If you knew your face from your arse you'd know who I am, and that if you want to keep pirates off your back that I'm who you want on your side."
"I haul merchandise from here to there. Most is declared, but some may not have the proper stamp on it. It's not really out of the ordinary, no people being sold, just trying to keep prying eyes off my back and out of my pocket." He flicks a finger over to one of the other tables, "I've seen her around the docks the last two days...may be following me...notice her daggers. always worried about a pirate attack or something worse."
"Aye, aye. Gotta make an honest living, and the law keeps us from doing that." Revhi tries to sneak a glance at where the captain is pointing while mulling over his words.
"Ah, oui. Pirates. Man is ze least deadly threat, unfortunately. Eef pirates appear, you at least can do somezing. Right? "
Davkas raised an eyebrow. He'd heard very little of this Captain's background and it was HIS experience that men who had a habit of making enemies motivated enough to send assassins were MOSTLY not to be trusted. Still he knew how precious magic was to a ship. The last thing a Captain, even a dishonest one would do would be to leave a ship without weapons and in this world of magic and monsters and fickle sea gods he would be to valuable to discard if things went sour.
I'm not just here for the money, Sir. A little risk to help pay my Captain's dept to you. Very well. Hopefully everything is as you say. I do have a rule. Don't ask me to do anything involving Necromancy. I'm not that kind of Wizard. But if it's problem solving or magical artillery, I'm your man.
"When you've been around as long as I have, it pays to have a healthy degree of skepticism." He drinks from his tin tankard. "Ship is the caravel The Sealord's Blessing be onboard tomorrow morning by the 5th morning bell (5 am). She's a merchant ship, ill equipped for combat, but she's fast and I have you in case of pirates." He looks at the Jean-Phillipe. "The first mate is..." he pauses a brief second to search his memory. "Barton Handerly, report to him. You aren't expected to crew, we've got that covered. Protection against pirates, unsavory trade partners, and whatever crawls from the sea." He reinforces your job duties. He nods accepting the wizard's terms, "No problem there."
With that he stands up dropping four small bags (500 gp each) on the table then he slides his rapier into it's scabbard. He doesn't bother saying good-bye as he departs.
The Captain's an odd one, nervous and on edge, like any seasoned Captain he isn't tell you everything but you sense he is telling your the truth about the goods he transports, his ship, and he is concerned about the dangerous seas.
You figure you have a few hours you can inquire about the ship and captain in the tavern. Perhaps there will be someone from the crew here indulging before the morning sail.
Location: The Run Aground Tavern
Time: 9 midday bells
Ship: The Sealord's Blessing
NPC: Captain Colthyn Rigg's
First Mate: Barton "Dandy" Handerly
It is 9 bells after midday (9pm) and you need to be on-board by the 5th morning bell (5am), so you have 8 hours. The tavern is full with customers, what are you going to do next?
You notice the bar is getting busier as small clutches of people gather together telling tall-tales of life's stories. Typical bravado. There is quite a bit of talk about the local fighting bar known as The Broken Skull and several folks are gaining their liquid courage before making their way over for their fight.
When Markus speaks up about the "Broken Skull", a couple people in the crowd overhear. "Yous look'n fer some action, we can 'ave some fun here...push the tables away. Strictly fun you know, fists only no wiggle finger spells ta'elp...clean fight. Besides "Jin" ain't fighting two days in row. " He eyes Davkas when mentioning spell casting. Jin is the current Broken Skull champion.
"That thar is Rex, he's the Hoodwinked Whore's champion ain't a soul aboard that ship that could beat 'im. Yous want t'ave a go at it?" The crowd starts to gain interest and as the catcalls begin.
"Move them tables boys and lets get some bets. Bare chest, no armor, and don't those of you with wiggle fingers get tryin' try to influence the action." He eyeballs a few folks he knows that would. "Even money bet this be." With that the bar springs into action and coin is exchanged as two "bookies' work the room and write out bettors.
Initiative Order:
Marcus
Rex
*Assume the center table have been moved. You begin 10 feet away from one another. I'll update the map when I get home, if it's not concluded already.
Rex is a fierce-looking bear of a man. His bony, crooked nose indicates he learned his pugilistic skills the hard way, and he is indeed a veteran of numerous bare knuckles matches. His eyes go dead and holds his opponent in a rock-steady unwavering stare.