"Thanks for getting me down and glad the guards are here! The crew in this ship is crazy! I went to sing some songs and got the party spirit up and the next thing there are all fighting and there is silver everywhere! why they have silver in there?!" Svog looks and talks like a surviver of a near-death experience, walking around moving his hands, "What if there were people with silver bane?! That could be very dangerous!"
"You were on the ship before it crashed? What happened to it? Why is it here?" the guard captain, a dark-haired man of about 30 wearing a helmet and chain vest, asks you the questions quickly and fiercely. When you keep repeating silver over and over, he holds up his hands to pacify you. "Keep your voice down about those banes, dammit," he murmurs. "I don't want to risk causing a panic here. I don't know why one of the King's ships would have silver spilling out of its hold, of all things..."
Svog will try to walk around and try to get out of the sight of the guards.
He turns to discuss containment protocols with his subordinates, but his body language is saying that he expects answers to his questions from you. Now's your chance, Svog. Because you were directly questioned by the guard captain and are technically still in a conversation with him, you'll need to roll for Defy Danger to get away unnoticed. Since you've already conversed with him and there's a crowd about, I'll allow you to use your CHA mod to DD.
"Ask the crew, not me" he says to the captain and looks around,
"They were kind of suspicious but I was just there to play songs, now I have to change my underware!" he says the last thing with a more loud voice and looking at his pants.
"I should wash it before it smells" When the captain looks the other way, Svog uses this chance...
Your...surprising ruse is quite effective. Within moments, you've slipped away, nobody wanting to get too close to you to hinder your way. You're back in the water and to safety in moments. 3 days downtime, what do you do?
"Then call at a decent hour. I become theatrical with lack of sleep...."
Mermaids: Reveal all I know. If the City moves fast and offers enough loot to the right Fish we could well secure the harbor. If nothing else some tribute and face-giving might be needed to keep our fisher folk safe.
At first he looks impatient when you mention the mermaids, until you reveal their servitude to the King. "What?! He's already gathering allies around us...this will have to be dealt with." he turns partially away from you, muttering, then motions for you to continue.
Foci: Reveal it's existence but lie as to it's fate. Explain that The Monarch had "Some monkey of a wizard..." on board and they were using a magical foci to control the Mer-folk and protect the ships. Further explain that while wresting control of the foci from the fool was rather easy their idiot mage tried to destroy it. The resulting backlash destroyed the foci, likely killed the mage and dropped the ship in the butchers market.
Good? or do you want more?
He studies you carefully as you describe the focus, blinking only a few times as he cocks his head slightly to one side. "So that's what did it. Well, without the focus, we're a bit lacking in evidence to prove that's how the ship got there, but some of the witnesses we've gathered must have seen something to corroborate you."
My questions...
Did Tremblay / the City secure the silver? More importantly did they secure evidence of the weaponization of the stuff?
At your mention of the silver, Tremblay gives a feral grin that reveals his rattish qualities. "The ship crash may be a disaster, but in regard to the silver at least, you did so well, Chaney. I am glad that I contacted you for the job. There were cannonballs filled with the stuff positively spilling from the hold in front of an entire town's square worth of onlookers! There's no way the King's going to squirm out of that association."
How much trouble are we in?
"None of you were apprehended or positively identified by the city guard. You probably noticed how inept those dogheads are - no offense - which is why I went with a more private solution in the first place." He finishes by gesturing at you. "So for the time being at least, you appear to be free and clear. I'd consider an alibi just to be safe..."
How has this changed relations with the 'King'?
"No word on that yet." he glances around to the window, where you've drawn the drapes, then returns his eyes to you. "I haven't heard anything from the King's camp yet, nor would I be the first to be contacted for communication. Something this big goes over my head, right to the Governor, Orwell. I'm expecting something big very soon though." he grins, wringing his hands a little. "He'll be exposed as the fraud he is."
When can I expect to be paid?
"You were promised 15 more upon delivery of the banes. But you did more than that; you irrefutably tied the cannonballs to the Monarch AND crippled her to boot. I spoke with the Governor and he agrees with me. He has generously doubled your total payment from 30 pieces total to 60 pieces total." he holds up one hand, clutching a handful of hastily-written checks with a lugubrious grin. "I have them here."
You remember Chaney calling to the others to meet at the Hook in 3 days. The moon will be nearly full tomorrow night and full the night after, and not much goes on in Magna Gracia on nights of the full moon. Such is why Chaney is waiting that long.
Aifric makes a spear to replace the one that got stuck in the sailor. The thought flits across his mind to make a ladder, but he shakes his head "no," wondering why he would need a ladder; he was made for climbing.
He wishes three days would hurry up and pass so he can talk to Chaney about the medallion. He wishes he hadn't even taken it from the captain. The words of the song are burned into his mind. He doesn't think he's ever memorized anything that long in his life. The phrase "so may the living be dead in our wake" turns over and over in his mind, and he doesn't like how it makes him feel.
When the silver gets cleared out from the crash site, Aifric will help with cleanup, too, maybe seeing Mazatl. It's too bad these people's property was smashed and got burned down, but it would have been worse if they had let the ship shoot those silver cannonballs into the city.
Mazatl isn't really built for heavy labor... but hard labor is something that comes easily to her; she's been laboring over holding back her own demiplane of life for a lifetime, and at the same time, that very same life nourishes her, keeping her going into her second wind while most move into a lunch break. What she lacks in her abilities to muscle through things, she makes up for in her tenacity.
Like Aifric, she recognizes that this portion of the city wouldn't be wrecked just now, if not for them... but also like Aifric, she recognizes that it would likely be much worse later. From where she stood, that meant that even with the best of intentions, there was still a mess to clean up, and the mess was theirs.
OVER THE COURSE OF THE NEXT THREE DAYS:
Word travels quickly through the city of Magna Gracia that one of the King's ships crashed into the Waterfront district, and by the day after, the entire city is buzzing about it. There were also far too many witnesses to deny or cover up that the cargo hold had silver in it, though almost no citizens know the full truth of what the ship contained.
Aifric, you hear sea shanties in your mind each night that you sleep, sung by a chorus of powerful voices. The songs are exciting and powerful, and make you feel strong.
On the night of the full moon, howling and animal noises fill the night. The full moon's pale light coats the entire city, and those who are unfortunate enough to feel the Moon's full light as a bane must avoid being exposed to it or lose their minds completely. Shutters are pulled shut and doors are locked and closed across the entire city. Taverns close their doors early and warn others to stay at home.
The tension in the city is building all around you. Svog, Mazatl, as you sing your songs in the tavern or work in your flower shop, you're exposed over and over to one angry citizen or another showing their animalistic sides as they growl about Ultimus' dirty tricks.
For the King's part, he hasn't made any public appearances since the night of the Monarch's crash. Nobody in the city knows how Governor Orwell is planning to respond. Tremblay dispatches a messenger on the second night to let you all know that he will be contacting you again soon.
Those of you near the Waterfront notice that the King's two remaining ships are lit up day and night now, positioned broadside along the Waterfront district. Three sloops of the Magna Gracia Navy (small though it is) are flanking the remaining ships day and night. For now there don't appear to be any visible hostilities, at least from shore, but you have no idea what the current status of Magna Gracia's relationship to the mermaids are.
6 PM, 3 days after the crash of the Monarch. Chaney specified that all of you meet at the Hook at sundown, which is about an hour from now. The moon is already visible on the horizon, waning gibbous. None of you have received word from Tremblay yet. Where are you all and what do you do?
Mazatl would spend much of her meditation time (when it is safe) at the lighthouse area. Specifically, she is keeping an eye out for the merfolk, now that she's studied them a bit more. She still sees them as an opportunity, and feels it likely that they would be drawn to such a location, as humans are.
Relations with the mer, a group of people who have always existed as two sides of a coin, could open up a lot of knowledge and understanding for those who were recently cursed with such a fate.
Assuming Trembley does not have Chaney killed.
Over the next two days the wizard rests and consults his books...
[dice=Spout lore on foci, books]1d6+1d6+2+1
[dice=Spout lore on spellscar, books]1d6+1d6+2+1
Chaney takes a lovely walk in the moonlight.
Even with the aid of books you'd only be at 9 for Spout Lore on Foci, so I'll tell you an interesting fact that you may make useful later. If the proper ritual is performed using the focus, it can be Overloaded. This has been known to cause instant, dramatic magical effects in a vast area around the focus, at the expense of the focus' ability to further retain magic.
You'd almost given up on finding something about the scar of circular lightning around your palm on your borrowed arm. You turned to leave the library of Magna Gracia, and your eye fell upon a book that wasn't sorted properly, shoved high up on a shelf. A simple spell retrieved it for you, and was revealed to be a study conducted in the state-run Central University at Magna Gracia. In the experiment, a daring researcher attempted the extremely risky and ill-advised experiment of grasping a "live" focus crystal as it was channeling almost more power than it could process safely. The researcher was almost killed, but he was left with the life-long ability to hear, see, and smell magic, as if it were a mundane force.
He threw himself feverishly into his work, studying and recording himself as his scar progressed. He marvels at how the scar spread further throughout his arm as he channeled magic further, how he soon could draw upon the buzzing numbness sensation in his hand to heighten his awareness. He only lived for another 3 years after his experiments began. By the end of his records, he claimed to be able to see all around him with his eyes closed, absorb magic into his palms, and detect the presence of anyone who crossed into this Material Plane from another.
Mazatl would spend much of her meditation time (when it is safe) at the lighthouse area. Specifically, she is keeping an eye out for the merfolk, now that she's studied them a bit more. She still sees them as an opportunity, and feels it likely that they would be drawn to such a location, as humans are.
Relations with the mer, a group of people who have always existed as two sides of a coin, could open up a lot of knowledge and understanding for those who were recently cursed with such a fate.
The Smiler still floats, seemingly unharmed, in the harbor. You don't know what to make of why, and you don't see any disturbances in the surface water to indicate their presence.
Though you meditate for many long hours near the lighthouse, you neither see nor hear any trace of the mermaids. The water is remarkably still, despite the tide.
He only lived for another 3 years after his experiments began. ....
You can see why Chaney might be motivated to answer this one.
The first book you look through, that you found describing some of his weirder claims and experiments, doesn't show any details beyond a passing mention of his death, as if it weren't an important detail.
Grinding your teeth in frustration, you dive into the arcane research laboratory with renewed zeal, reading through book after book in your search for answers, searching everything you can find from that approximate time period. Finally you find something! A reference to a man with a completely blackened scar of an arm, living with a group of monks for a short period of time. You double-check the dates - the record is made two years after the researcher, named Antonin Brashnikov, was supposed to have died. Apparently the wanderer with the blackened arm was staying with them for a time, having sought sanctuary from the winter's cold. The monk who authored this tome clearly didn't have a full understanding of what Brashnikov was up to, but does record seeing oddly colored motes of light coming from under the door to his room.
You slam the book shut at last, having uncovered more questions than answers.
Despite all your best efforts, all you can dredge up about mermaids suggests that they are temperamental, can be quite vicious when provoked, and are more active during the twilight hours between day and night. You see no activity that would suggest mermaids near the shoreline that you walk during your days off; you would imagine that it would take some inducement to attract merfolk so close to shore.
... living with a group of monks for a short period of time. You double-check the dates - the record is made two years after the researcher, named Antonin Brashnikov, was supposed to have died. Apparently the wanderer with the blackened arm was staying with them for a time, having sought sanctuary from the winter's cold. ...
For simplicity, I've more or less superimposed my homebrew map over a map of Europe. If Magna Gracia was Genoa, Italy, the monastery would be in the mountains near Geneva, Switzerland.
Chaney arrives at the hook, dusty, ink-stained and carrying a book.
What oops?
What oops?
Chaney, you're the first to arrive at the Gilded Hook. There's a palpable tension in the air. The heavy wooden door to the waterside tavern has deeply-rent claw marks.
Inside, the candles in the lanterns adorning the walls are burned low and there's a general dim, gray air. There aren't any conversations going on when you enter, even though 4 out of the 10 tables are occupied. When you stand in the doorway, a few people look up at you, then turn back to their drinks.
Mazatl would arrive a short time later, to look over the complete lack of din with a skeptical brow. She looks over the crowd before moving to join Chaney, quietly.
Mazatl, as you move past a few tables, you hear a muttered "Isn't she that" before the person is hushed. You whirl around, and Chaney looks too, but neither of you can see which table the muttering came from. It's quiet again.
Mazatl smiles in the general direction, "Yes, I do own a flower shop just down the street. If you need anything, just let me know, and I'd be happy to try to create an arrangement for you."
Things were always simpler when people didn't know you had the power to shape the wilds to your needs.
She does her best to appear cheerful and without worries, hopefully assuaging any concerns the people may have... one friendly face can make a world of difference in a person's day, after all.
Aifric arrives at the Hook, medallion tucked away safely on his person. The atmosphere in the place is about what he expected to find just after the full moon.
Athena would try to sneak into the bar like always and find her allies and show them her new knife.
Svog walks fast around the streets to the Hook, when he arrives, he ask for a drink and looks around his allies.
"No sign of the merfolk anywhere near the coast. I think if we're going to try to contact them, we'll have to go out deeper. I'm not sure why the Smiler is still floating considering the merwoman's hatred."
Mazatl opened with her most pressing current concern, keeping her voice low.
When Mazatl smiles at everyone, everyone stares at her, but the stares aren't totally unfriendly. One sailor, who is actually a regular customer of yours, avoids meeting your gaze; he's mentioned to you in the past that he buys flowers for his girlfriend, but doesn't want his sailor buddies to know. Still, you see him elbow his glowering friend on your behalf. The inn is subdued, overall.
Athena, remember you only gain XP on 6- rolls. 7-9 is a mostly-success. In this case, there's no real penalty to your 7-9 roll except that Mazatl sees you coming before you arrive.
You're all seated at the Hook. Chaney, you have the bank notes that Tremblay gave you, but he was very cryptic about when he'd meet you next, saying only that he would be in touch. Outside the windows of the Hook, out on the Harbor, the two Royal ships remain anchored, lit faintly by the light of the waning moon and fireflies that float in the night sky above the water. All around you can be heard faint, whispered conversations. What do you do?
"Anyway. What's going on, goalwise, or do we even have any as a group?"
"What you guys found out? I've been trying to hide from the guards because they saw me up there...Has anyone talked with Tremblay?" He lowers his voice right at the end of the sentence when he says the name.
"I've mostly been working to clean up the mess we made of the city. I've been studying what we've been dealing with a bit, and meditating with my conduit. Other than that... I've really got nothing to offer."
She shrugs with a frown.
The wizards dry voice cuts through the conversation.
"This might help" Chaney Hands out Trembley's bank notes.
"As to what to do next, Aifric and I have a proposition."
Noting the Skirmisher's (presumed) surprise Chaney continues.
"The two of us have a small injury. Chaney taps his black wrapped arm with his human hand. Small now at least but it will grow and is very likely lethal." Chaney sets the book on the table. "At least that is what happened in a similar case. The sufferer diligently recorded the injury's progress for three years, and then he died."
"So it appears we have a time frame."
Chaney reached into his bag and places a smaller book on the table atop the first.
"However two years after this person's recorded death a monastery not too far to the north of here hosted an interesting visitor. A man with the same injury, in the same place, and progressed to the same extent as in our diligent corpse. Perhaps our time frame, or fate, can be altered."
Chaney sweeps the books back into his bag.
"Unfortunately this all happened just before the error that reshaped our world. There has been no communication with the monks since. Are they alive? We don't know. Is the whole area overrun with ravenous ferals? We don't know. Is there anything there but a few burned out sticks? We don't know. Is this the best chance to Aifric and Myself to see the next decade? Maybe. There are healers and priests and whatnot that I have not consulted with-"
The group sits around the table for a few moments after Chaney passes out the bank notes to everyone. Without any communication from on high about the current situation, it seemed that everyone was in the dark. Chaney explains to everyone what he has learned and where he thinks the inquiry should go next.
It's right as Chaney as saying "There are healers and priests and whatnot that I have not consulted with-" you all hear the heavy iron-laden door to the Gilded Hook scrape open against the wooden floor of the entryway. The sound is followed shortly by a tall figure that stands in the doorway of the tavern for a moment, looking around. You recognize Guisarme, Tremblay's mysterious manservant. Mazatl, you notice that someone else's eyes widen with recognition as well upon his entrance.
He approaches your table and pulls up a chair, glancing around at all of you. The barman studiously ignores him, focusing on cleaning a single glass that already looks spotless. Guisarme glances around at all of you, nodding faintly as he seems to be sizing you up. What do you do?
Mazatl pays more attention to the man who recognizes the aide's... aid. Is he familiar at all? She adopts to give the man more space to sit.
Ouch.
What should I be on the lookout for?
You've never seen the man before, Mazatl, but be on the lookout for that guy. You don't know much, but you feel pretty certain that the guy recognized Guisarme somehow.
As Guisarme is moving to sit, Mazatl tilts her head slightly in the direction of the man in question, attempting to point out the importance of the subtle cue with her eyes to the werehawk. "Good afternoon! I hadn't expected to see you here! Sit here beside me!, she said, enthusiastically, but then followed it up as she pretended to take a drink of water, with a hushed "Someone knows you." and then immediately followed that with a louder, but still table-talk-friendly "are you here to order some flower arrangements? Or here for something else?"
Guisarme's eyes widen as you murmur under your breath to him. Then, they narrow. "Follow my lead, then..." you see him draw a dagger from a coat pocket, concealing it in his sleeve.
With a quick backward glance, Guisarme climbs to his feet again. "We need to go," is all he says to you. He begins to lead all of you off to the sideroom of the hook through an open doorway. He doesn't acknowledge the barman, even when he speaks up, saying, "Hey, customers aren't allowed back there..." instead, Guisarme turns to him and glares while he continues ushering you through.
In moments, you've all left through the back alleyway of the Gilded Hook. Guisarme puts his finger to his lips, gesturing for quiet.
You wait there in the cold back alleyway a moment, when you see a man in were-bat form - still recognizable as the one you saw earlier, Mazatl - poke his head out. Suddenly and ruthlessly, Guisarme is upon him, smashing his head with the hilt of his dagger multiple times until the werebat stops struggling. He begins to struggle to drag the man the rest of the way outside the Hook and into the alley. What do you do?
Mazatl is taken aback by the sudden display of brutality and takes a visible step back from him and the werebat. She's at a loss for what to do and why anything is happening.
Aifric tells himself that he has to remember to talk to Chaney about the medallion. It might be related to the other magical stuff that happened to them the other day, which Aifric nows learns is going to kill them. All this flows out of his thoughts immediately when Guisarme begins beating the werebat.
Guisarme's association with Tremblay, who warned Aifric's group about the banes on the Monarch, is enough for Aifric, who adds his strength to Guisarme's attempt to pull the werebat into the alley.
The werebat is quickly subdued and knocked out. Guisarme, his formerly poised demeanor somewhat ruffled, straightens and turns to you, running a small comb through his hair before slipping it back into his coat pocket.
"I've come to bring you to Mr. Tremblay," the dark-skinned man says, addressing all of you. "Unfortunately, my association with him is causing more problems now than it used to, thanks in part to your actions."
He moves to the end of the back alley, looking out onto the street in front of the Hook. It's fairly lively still in the Waterfront district, being around supper time. "I've arranged for a small magical favor...damn." He curses under his breath, and as you look out at the street in front of the Hook, you see City Watch guardsmen entering the front door of the Hook together.
He turns back to you. "There's little time to explain everything - that's what Tremblay intends to do - but you seem to have forced the King's hand. He's got some kind of power over the local governor, or else he's made him a generous offer...we're on our way to being a vassal city of Magna Ultimus." He narrows his eyes.
"Probably power, and not friendship. The mer in the port couldn't do anything to the ship because of something he had done to them. I wouldn't be surprised if the folks aboard the ship were in the same position. Look for people with gaping holes where ear rings once were. If you can spot them, and round them up, they could be allies. I'm not positive, and it may make our position precarious... but what could be worse than being hunted by our own people?"
She sighs and shakes her head.
Guisarme shoves the unconscious werebat into a seated position next to the steps leading out of the Gilded Hook. "He'll be fine there until he wakes up," he comments, gruffly.
That done, he swiftly moves to the end of the alley to look around at the front of the establishment again. Two of the guards seem to have stationed themselves in front of the bar's entrance, looking up and down the street in an alert manner. You can hear shouting coming from within the bar.
"Tremblay arranged for transportation for you, but it's at Dock 13. We need to get past those two guards without being spotted or recognized." he turns to the rest of you. His demeanor is grim and composed again, but you see uncertainty in his dark eyes.