Your crew, sated on the plunder you've paid them, gather themselves for your run to Drenchport.
You sail northeast towards Tempest Cay, the isle on the edge of the Eye of Abendego. Sailors speak in hushed tones the permanent hurricane as the place that marks to the Tomb of Aroden, or perhaps a risen city of aboleths preparing to subjugate humanity under their tentacles.
Whatever the case Drenchport, an unlikely town of over ten thousand souls on the edge of the storm, was named because it rains there more often than not. You find the truth of this as vicious storms lash down on your ship kept afloat by the skill of your sailors, the hand of Galean and the favor of Besmara.
Drenchport eventually comes into view - a smear of light across the island's face with warped wooden buildings crammed in between weathered stone facades with lamps lit against the pouring rain.
The capital of Tempest Cay is a dangerous place. Newcomers can hope for no more than surly tolerance, and are far more likely to encounter bloodier attitudes if they fail to exercise extreme caution. Seedy
taverns, warehouses, and ramshackle private dwellings cling to the rocky shoreline of the port town like barnacles on the hull of an ill-kept vessel.
Nevertheless a berth is open and you're able to dock the Calamitous Intent where you're met by an Ulfen dockmaster. He looks you over dubiously and opens a book which he peruses through with a rusted metal hook that replaces his left hand.
"I ain't seen yer ship here before. From whence de ye sail?"
Galean's excitement to be setting sail to a new destination is barely contained in one Galean's body. Chipperly sailing away, his grin doesn't even begin to fade as the rain and wind begins to cover him toe to toe, and only sullies once he sails into port.
"Well.", he says, shouldering his paddle. "That's soggy, isn't it?", he shares, before nodding at the dockmaster. "Well, we were docked at Quent, and then we were sailing at North-North east for roughly...", he starts chatting away. "Uh. Quent.", he stops himself after a moment, giving the captain a glance. "I don't think that'll be one of our favourite ports.", he whispers once they've cleared the dockmaster.
The dockmaster writes down your ship's name, captain name, and port of origin. He also makes sure to note any cargo you offload.
"Try not to bother the peace of the town. If you survive the knifing you won't survive the Master of Gales' response. He likes the balance of the town and that kraken of his is no rumor."
He grunts as he accepts your docking fee and then stumps away moodily.
"Wow. A pet kraken? Galen, you gotta step up your game. Gorilla is too small-time."
"I've heard stories about four armed gorillas before. Not nice stories." Nymph adds.
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"I've never heard about those? Is that a thing? I guess you know what they say - four-armed is forewarned."
"Thanks dockmaster..." Yuki says to the man as he finishes, then looks to her officers, "I guess we better start looking for this Jaymiss Keft guy."
local
Sir Dockmaster. Where can we find Mr. Jayless? We of course would not dream of starting trouble.. He puts a few silver in the dock masters hand
The dockmaster pockets the silver and scratches his check with side of his hook.
"The scrimshaw elf? Aye, he's gonna be in the craftsman district. If ye go down to Gozreh's square you'll find yerself looking at five streets - take the one headed southwest and along the road you'll see his sign - it's a mermaid eating the guts out of a sahuagin carved from whale one if'n ye can't read."
"I like em already."
"All right, sounds good. Let's go guys!"
Thank you much sir!
Let’s go
"Wait, are the merfolk cannibals?", Galean asks, scratching his head. "I mean, some of them might be, but not all of them?", he continues as pub imagery counteracts his knowledge of nature. "But I guess, there could be a picture of a human or a dwarf eating sahuagin guts. There's nothing stopping us from eating sahuagin guts, except that they're, like, poisonous and nasty." He pauses. "Am I reading too much into this?", he asks, blushing.
As you walk through the city you find yourself in front of the store and enter - a bell rings and you find yourself in a shop filled with carvings made from bone, tusks, driftwood, sharks teeth and a rather impressive piece that appears to have been made from the beak of a kraken.
The scenes include the pastoral, the violent and the more sensual.
Carvings with fisherman hauling in nets filled with the day's catch stand next to others showing pirates raiding villages and ships. A few seem to be made for the private captains of ships, depicting all sorts of amorous encounters from the sublime to those that would make the most scaborous pirate blush.
An elf, disheveled in the way only an obsessed artist can be, sits behind a counter but pays no attention to your entrance.
He appears to be carving a meerschaum pipe depicting a ship in full sail ramming the head of a sea serpent whose long body is entwined around where the pipe stem will be when he's done.
"Hey there, how are you?" Yuki says with a smile and a friendly tone, "My crew and I are looking for some information and we're super hoping you can help us out."
Define cannibalism. Also the Sea Devil had it coming." Nymph nonchalantly responds to Galean.
"Oooo," Nymph lets out upon entering the shop, eyeing certain carvings in particular.
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Rocky hovers over and perched on Nymph’s head
Ayre is quickly in awe of the carving work, he knows a master when he sees one.
this is incredible! We won’t keep you long and wouldn’t want to, you must be so busy with talent like this!
Diplo aid.
"Also, I love this pipe. How much?" says Bahrin, looking closely (but not touching) a pipe depicting swimming mermaids along the side.
"These are lovely, how much?'
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"I, too, find your craftsmanship good. ", nods Galean.
Hahahahaha
The elf, startled, looks up from his work confusedly at all the people shouting at him.
"W-w-w-what? Uh, information? Oh, the pipe is 10 gold and the carved narwhal horn is 150 gold."
He jerks his head back between you.
"Wait, why did you want information, was it about the carvings?"
"Not exactly, but we'll take both your pieces." Yuki replies, then lowers her voice, "We're looking for a spy in the Shackles. A little bird told us you knew something about that. Now, please don't get upset, we just want to know what you know and we'll leave you alone. Promise."
The elf, hearing you're here for gossip manages to look both smug and guilty at the same time.
"A spy? In the Shackles? Well I don'ttalk to birds so you must be mistaken."
Keft's nose lifts ever so slightly in the air and you get the sense he's sneering at you.
Yuki's smile just deepens as the man begins to sneer, "Maybe you could let us in on some rumors while we buy your high quality merchandise?"
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"We've got a wide assortment of animals you could talk to?", Galean helpfully adds.
Ayre, you realize that carvings are overpriced by about double.
Yuki you and Galean realize the merchant is pretending to be scatter-brained - his eyes are tracking you much more sharply than they seem.
"Uh, I can, uh, talk maybe about some sea tales? Do you have a-a-a-a preference for the type of carving you w-w-w-w-want?"
Well one that is priced fairly...but we are happy to pay what your asking if it comes with some useful chat
"Got anymore naughty ones?" Nymph asks.
The elf glowers at Ayre's accurate, if tactless, accusation.
"Well, you have an uncommon eye for an elemental spawn. If you want information about a spy, I have a price - and it's a piece of scrimshaw at the listed price. If you're looking for...prurient...carvings I have one you may like."
He points to what you'd swear was a living erinyes, coy and wanton all at once, if it wasn't carved from whalebone and seven inches tall. The wings are individually detailed and seem to expertly conceal nothing while seemingly intending to conceal everything.
"300 gold, for some of the best scrimshaw you'll ever see."
”I’ll take it!” Nymph says with glee as she looks upon the Erinyes.
"Sounds like you got a deal, so what's the scoop?" Yuki asks with a strained smile.
The elf scowls, but grudgingly accepts the gold.
Finally he sighs, and brushes his hair back from his face.
Well, the man I'm suspicious of is a man named Haddon Pike? Do you know him? No, of course you don't.
He puts down his tools and taps his chin.
Well the thing about Pike is he's supposedly a harmless man. Beachcomber, fisherman, occasional smuggler. But he heads south in a boat far too high in the water to be moving goods.
I can without modesty say that I'm very familiar with all aspects of trade in Drenchport. Tariffs and custom duties on art like mine can be high; high enough that avoiding them is beneficial for the discerning connoisseur. No one is using Pike's services. Yet he sails out time after time, heading south. Personally I think he's heading to Hell's Harbor but I can't confirm that. It's not as if Chelaxians really smell of sulfur after all.
He smiles thinly.
Pike lives in a cottage outside of Drenchport. I'd seek him there and question him if you were looking for a spy.
Traveling for 24 hours not as needed (both games dm)
"Well, that does sound a little weird. Thanks for the help Jaymiss!"
perhaps we should let rocky scout down the chimney
As you approach the southern part of town buildings get more rough and the people a little less flamboyant.
The heavy black clouds that have rolled in from the Maelstrom break and rain begins to pour down on you, the heavy driving rain that drives the sane indoors.
Light leaks out of shacks and from lanterns carried by residents trapped out of taverns and homes and barely pierces the rain. Pirates seem to dare the weather but residents draw their oilskins tightly around them and grip daggers. More bodies are found after the concealment of the heavy rain than not, and a heavy rain is more common than any other here in Drenchport.
You arrive near the cabin and find yourselves eyed suspiciously by neighbors peeking out of windows or standing on the weatherdecks of their houses, covered porches cunningly designed to give a dry spot in all but horizontal rain.
Pike's residence, the farthest away of anyone's, sits dark and silent. The smuggler-cum-spy might be out on a delivery, or a mission.
"Why not? He can make a surreptitious survey and let us know," says Bahrin agreeably.
Nymph nods. "Rocky's awesome like that."
Ayre casts a invisibility from a scroll on Rocky and he flies on up and down the chimney to scout
Taking 10 on stealth for a 40
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Rocky's invisible form swarms across the grass onto the shoreline the cabin is built upon, up towards the house and into the cabin.
The dark interior is lit briefly by lightning outside and Rocky finds something on the floor of the cabin - something soft and motionless.
Rootless One, there is a one form here in this wood building. Its energy connects not to the True Plane, nor does strength flow from the ground as in one of your dead buildings. I find it most displeasing but it appears to be safe even for soft forms such as yourself and the others. Fear not for I have seen all there is to see.
Rocky says there is something connected to the True plane in there, but he seems to think it is safe enough.
When Rocky returns Ayre arms him with the Admonishing Ray wand
Lead on folks! He also casts mage armor to be safe
”True Plane?” Nymph asks while walking with the others, resisting the urge to scratch her head.