The first few attacks only create some minor hissing and scorching, although some damage is better than none. The lightning bolt strikes the door to the room under the aft deck and, it being damp and moldy, does not ignite.
The creatures closest to the floor slip in Threnody's grease, but the flying creatures within the swarm are unaffected.
"Everybody spread out!"
Lark crosses the deck to guard Kahuranga's side. "Got any fire? That worked on the last swarm we fought."
Lark charges in to attack. While he successfully does so, he realizes up close how utterly f~&$ed up these things look, and is spooked by their Horrific Appearance.
Lark has seen much worse, though.
The purplish cloud of half-dead Abyssal fungus monsters pull themselves upward from the grease, those with wings carrying the more landbound ones upward with them, to fly and swarm all over the sylph and his dragon, who seem most tasty and interesting to them. They seem especially interested in the dragon that is the same size as the creatures they inhabit.
Up close, Kahuranga and Taniwha also see how Horrific their Appearance is.
But they too manage to overcome their revulsion quickly.
As they crawl and fly all over the witch and the dragon, they are clawed and bitten and exposed to spores.
Fortunately they shake off the fungal spores that writhe and twitch.
The reddish cythnigots fly toward Corwin and Quinn and do the same thing. They of course have to remain close to the ground.
Seeing how the edge of his blade skitters off the creatures Corwin drops his greatsword and pulls out his greatclub.
Sandara doesn't care for Abyssal pests and pulls herself away from the swarm. Then she looks around for anything that might be combustible to use against them.
"Corwin! Get ready to start smashing critters!"
Thren casts versatile weapon on Corwin's greatclub, making it function as a cold iron weapon. Her own blade comes to hand as she readies herself in case the strange swarm gets close.
Lark continues to chip away at the creatures besetting Kahuranga and Taniwha. "Hang on you two!
Kahuranga spins in the air, dislodging as many of the foul creatures as possible. He floats backwards, keeping an eye on them, then repeats the glass rod maneuver. Magic becomes electricity as it passes though him and crackles through the air.
Even with an ability to dodge blades and resist non-cold iron attacks, Corwin's attacks are enough to mostly crush the red swarm, and if there were any left, the lightning bolt from Kahuranga finishes them off. A few remaining cythnigots scatter and flee the ship, flying out of portholes.
The lightning bolt also courses fully toward the purple swarm, and the swarm has lost much of its potency. Were the creatures not resistant they all would have been so much char.
The lightning bolt does catch the rail at the side of the ship on fire. You hear Yamtisy shout to the others still on the dock to fill a bucket.
Sandara finds a barrel of pitch that has survived for 70 years.
The remaining swarm moves so that it both pursues Kahuranga and Taniwha as well as lowers itself to engulf Lark.
Spores enter the Taniwha and Lark's bite wounds, erupting suddenly into long tendrils that wrap themselves around their victims. Both are entangled.
Corwin strides across the deck, cocking back his greatclub. The massive weapon sweeps through the swarm, obliterating many small creatures and scattering bits and pieces everywhere. "That worked a treat. Threnody, thanks for the assist!"
Kahuranga and Taniwha move away from the swarm, zipping by Corwin toward the fire.
"Corwin, I hope that your muscles can crush the rest of them. I think the rest of my magics will likely be ineffective against these creatures..."
"Everyone okay?" Thren calls as Corwin squashes the Abyssal bugs. "Are there any more, or can we get on with the looting?"
Any surviving cythnigots scatter and depart the ship. A careful search shows that no other creatures, living, dead, or undead, remain.
Yamtisy, Derrick, and Belina board. All of you use magic and other devices to put out the fire.
All of you conduct a thorough search of the ship. Much to your dismay, especially Derrick's, the lower decks are in a horrible mess. Wood is unnaturally warped throughout much of the mid-deck, with piles of small animal carcasses embedded throughout--some kind of "nest" for the cythnigots. The damage means the ship is NOT going to carry any sort of crew or be in any sort of fighting shape any time soon. However, Derrick confirms that the outer hull is intact as are the masts. You can tow the ship with ease to Hell Harbor. In the shape it is in, you can probably sell it for 9,000 gp (which is almost enough to buy a brand new ship, if without any fancy features like a reinforced hull). A fine work of Taldane craftsmanship, Lark and Threnody have an associate who might also appreciate it as a tribute. You could pay to have it fixed to Hell Harbor but it will be costly and require several weeks--weeks that will pass with your amassing new ships but still not declaring your Free Captaincy to the Hurricane King, which could make you targets.
Your crew also strongly asserts towing it all the way to Ghoral Rey--weeks away from here--would make you targets for every pirate ship in the Shackles.
Much of the supplies here are wrecked, looted, rotted, or eaten--or covered in enough otherworldly mold to not be worth messing with.
The good news is the captain's and officer's quarters on the upper deck are in fairly good condition. The following items are of interest:
- A quiver of 20 mithral crossbow bolts
- A bed upon which is a magical pillow whose only magic seems to make it eternally clean, soft, and fluffy
- A painting of a man in a Taldane Naval uniform and a ridiculously large codpiece, posing over the bodies of dead pirates.
- A scrivener's kit that has survived the passage of time in a darkwood writing case
-A chest of holding. On the outside, it is a medium-sized chest (about 4 cubic feet and weighing 50 lbs). On the inside, it acts as a bag of holding III (holding up to 1,000 lbs). The lock that held it shut is rusted and breaks when you try to open it (it is untrapped).
Taking some time to empty its contents, it holds
- 20 goods' worth of marble, wood, and fittings for building (this can also be 1 Plunder if you prefer--yes, 20 goods does not cost out to this much, but it includes fancy trade goods like marble)
- 100 yards of especially fine cotton (can also serve as 1 Plunder)
- a wand of scorching ray
Upon the captain's desk, you find a journal. The pages contain what could be an interesting historic record of the Taldanes hunting pirates 70 years ago, if you can get past the ridiculous self-aggrandizement on the part of its author.
The last page reads:
I am determined to establish myself at this nameless isle northeast of the Devil’s Arches, the better to strike against the freebooters. Here are game, water, even trees for masts. Best, a steep rise commands the cove; fortifying it is proving simple.My crew, however, grumble that demons haunt the ziggurat at our backs. Brance Yoha doesn’t sail with gutless children, I told them—usually an efficacious tack with sailors!—but they persisted. I’ve had a few of them flogged, to no avail.
Mere savage ruins, I tell them, and useful for our defense! But they fear them, fear the statue at the peak, which is nothing but a bloated spider—and poorly rendered, at that.
I’ll teach them that it’s I, not some rotting statue, who rules Yoha’s Fist! (I rather like that name... just came up with it now. Genius!)
In the officer's quarters, in a closet, you find another journal, this one much simpler and gnawed upon by rodents. It is of the cabin boy, Eden Corke, much more simply chronicling where the ship went and the things they did and complaining of the captain's hubris.
Its last entry reads,
Captain Yoha succeeded, all right. Gods forgive us all. You'd think the beast we found in the depths of the temple was warning enough--Scraggs called it a 'Shoggti' and it took Ben and Dayla. But Yoha just had the stairs collapsed after we beat it and said nothing could stop him.So he did it. Knocked that statue off its pedestal. Some awful fog has risen, red as blood. It wrapped all around him and made him scream in madness---still now, all the way back here, I still hear him screaming. The First Mate breathed it in and bit into Mr. Scraggs. And, sweet Pharasma, we'd carried Dayla's body up with us to send off to sea (there wasn't enough of Ben left), and Dayla's body got up and attacked us all.
Gods help me, I ran. Some of the men ran too, but they went for the treasure we'd brought up from the depths of the temple that we left in the priest's room, fat lot of good it'll do them now. They never came back up.
Maybe one day I'll come back for the treasure, if the fog ever lifts. I've made a map only I will know what it is. But I'm taking the longboat and getting out of here. Cursed be the day I ever signed up to serve Brance Yoha!
If you find this, and the fog is not gone--run. It is not worth it. It is not worth it.
Chad and Chakam are enjoying the spoils of a recent bounty over a meal in the famous Hell Harbor Inn and Public House known as "The Ruin." Built into an ancient Gholgan structure, the well-maintained inn features not posh, but well prepared food and clean, characterful atmosphere. A musician plays a small harp in the corner, and the servers keep your mugs topped off.
Discussing Chad's search for any signs of his former crew, a man taps you on the shoulder. He is a slender, sun-weathered half-elf with red hair. Earlier, he had been sitting at the end of the bar jotting things down into notebook.
"Excuse me, did you say Aurora's Kiss? Keltheald keeps leading me to those who escaped that wreck!"
Our bard looks over the haul and considers. "Dibs on the pillow," she calls with a grin. Assessing the ship, she considers. "I don't think we should keep this one. Sell it, maybe give it to the dragon. Keep what we need for supplies. Your quarters would look good in marble, Lark." The bard suggests.
Chad takes a hearty swig of the pint before him, looking up at the red headed half-elf with wary eyes. Others? Besides Thren and Lark? Unlikely. The Chelaxians and the seas were not kind that day... his eyes narrow a bit more as he turns to face the man, examining him closely as he weighs how to respond.
Finally shrugging, the young sylph, turns back to his food and invites the man to his and Chakam's table.
"Aye, I survived the destruction of the Kiss that day, though not for lack of trying on the parts of the waves. Desna must have some further journeys for me to take. You say that you have met other survivors? If so, you must either be blessed or cursed by the gods."
Taking another, more measured, drink from his ale he asks, "So, did these former mates of mine give you their names? Or better yet, where they were headed? I would love to have the opportunity to mourn our dead with them."
Kahuranga's disappointment slowly becomes clear. He is somehwat subdued, but still optimistic. "God's grant that we never suffer such a dark fate. I agree with Thren, clearly the ship is worth more to us in trade. My dreams of a fleet will have to wait. Still, this is useful materiel. Let us take it and leave this accursed place. Perhaps when we grow stronger we can return and face whatever evil lies beneath the ziggurat."
Chakam scratched his head. The man had terribly ugly dark skin, marked with sunburns and rashes from the seas. He used his hair in cornrows and it was doubtful he had taken any good baths on the past month - other than in the sea, as he smelled like fresh fish. He wasn’t particularly sure it’d be a good idea to announce friendship to those on the Aurora’s Kiss - you never know who can be listening, and there were some very “unsatisfied customers” in the past seeking him.
At this point, he turned his body to look at the half-elf as the sylph spoke.
Yes, yes... Mourn the dead... - he finally spoke, smiling behind dark yellow, sharpened shark-looking teeth.
Chad shakes his head, causing his hair to seemingly flow in the opposite direction as would be expected. As always, the air around the sylph hunter seemed to play in unexpected ways.
"Oh, and while we are on the topic of names, you did fail to mention yours, friend."
He gives the half-elf a smile, but drops his free hand in a non subtle manner toward his belt, resting the palm on the haft of his boarding axe.
I hate fighting up close... always so much blood to wash out of your cloths, and too often some of it is your own. Still, not everyone in my old hometown is as friendly as Chakam here.
"Mine is Chad, by the way. A pleasure, I am sure."
The half-elf spreads his hands, to show no hostile or untoward intent. While he is well-armed and well-equipped, he shows no sign of reaching for anything. "Forgive me, I am Emberar Lealtus; called 'Sunstruck,' servant of the Empyreal Lord Keltheald. Lately was crew of Besmara's Whim." Maybe mentioning that ship aloud invited scrutiny or excitement, but he shows pride. "The senior crew being Captain Lark Greenwood, First Mate Threnody Nocturne, and Lee O'Neld. Lee was Quartermaster, but he's now ashore elsewhere doing research."
He gestures at a nearby stool. "May I?
If you nod, he sits. If not, he stands and balances his distance between respect and not being so far that others would easily overhear. "I travel the Shackles, studying Gholgan ruins. A couple months ago I hired aboard a ship called The Long Sunset, captained by Drakerider Fleetfoot--daughter of Golly Fleetfoot, captain of the Aurora's Kiss. I understand that ship was sunk a few months ago, when the Chells attacked Port Peril. But I also know Lark and Thren served aboard there awhile ago. They sailed off a day or so ago; I stayed here to research these ruins."
And now the half-elf raises an eyebrow. He remains friendly and with non-hostile body language, but you realize he is in his own way sizing you up as much as he has been you. "So what I'd like to know is, what do you want with my captain?"
Lark nods when Threnody claims the pillow and returns her grin. "I'm for it if it keeps you rested for the night watch." He also agrees about Yoha's ship. "You're both right, we've enough on our plate already. Keep dreaming of that fleet Kahuranga, we'll get there one day."
The young captain directs Threnody to get all the loot transfered and stowed on the Besmara's Whim. Meanwhile he works with Belina to rig the Gryphon Unfettered for towing back to Hell Harbor.
As Lealtus gestures to the stool, Chad points to it with a free hand, palm up, in a gesture clearly meant to convey that the half-elf should take it and sit down should he wish. As he does, the sylph beacons over one of the servers to get the man a drink should he need one.
So the rumors were true... they did survive, and seemingly better than I did... Besmara's Whim indeed...
At the mention of Golly Fleetfoot, the sylph raises his glass reverentially in a silent toast. Before tasting the drink, however, he gives it a quick knock against the table, the sloshing ale spilling a few drops in an quiet offering to those not present. An almost melancholy look briefly overtakes Chad's face as he listens.
Peace be with the dead. May the seas bring them to more comforting shores...
The redhead's question snaps Chad from his thoughts.
"Captain now, eh. Talk about your change in fortunes. Well, Mister Sunstruck," the freebooter's mouth quips upward in smile as the monomer leaves his lips, "I properly want nothing from your thrice-blessed captain, beyond a moment of both his time and that of your first mate. I might not have been the closest to either, but I am sure that learning that their former quartermaster survived the sinking of the Kiss that dark day would be welcome news. Perhaps welcome enough to warrant further adventures on the high seas together, as I am finally well enough to sail again. But even if not, I certainly still owe them both a drink."
His smile turns grim though. "Well... assuming they survive the curse of Yoha's Graveyard that is. Which, if you had asked me a week ago if would be possible I would have said, 'Not a chance,' to. The cursed mists withdrawing, however, at least makes it more likely."
Mentally, the sylph adds, I hope so anyway.
The first mate directs the crew to getting the ship ready to be towed and all the loot stored, making sure there won't be more damage to the Gryphon Unfettered from the trip.
Thren makes sure everything is stowed securely aboard Besmara's Whim before helping her captain hook the two ships together for towing back to Hell's Harbor.
"Captain now, eh. Talk about your change in fortunes. Well, Mister Sunstruck," the freebooter's mouth quips upward in smile as the monomer leaves his lips, "I properly want nothing from your thrice-blessed captain, beyond a moment of both his time and that of your first mate. I might not have been the closest to either, but I am sure that learning that their former quartermaster survived the sinking of the Kiss that dark day would be welcome news. Perhaps welcome enough to warrant further adventures on the high seas together, as I am finally well enough to sail again. But even if not, I certainly still owe them both a drink."
Sunstruck nods. "Anyone else, I would never believe they could. But the sun seems to ever set in their favor. I stayed to study--and send a rescue party if they didn't return in a few days. But the rumors of the mists going spread so quickly... I should never have worried."
He spreads his hands. "Truth be told, I have loved the adventures I have had with them this week, but I think the horizons is leading me elsewhere. The ruins here, and others, they are showing me things I need to know. I had been serving them as a co-navigator, a wilderness guide, and as a healer. Maybe it would be easier to go if I knew someone else could take my place...?"
Whatever other discussion occurs (and to ensure all in this piratey realm are relatively on the up-and-up), Sunstruck also suggests that they keep an eye out for what ships return to shore. Lark and the others promised to return here if and when they were successful. And indeed there is news that Besmara's Whim has docked. By this point the rumors of the mists going have spread far and wide, and much of the city has heard who must be responsible.
So that when Besmara's Whim arrives, with the Gryphon Unfettered in tow and a cargo hold full of loot, there is a huge crowd waiting by the dockside gates, that the guard struggle to hold back.
Meanwhile, on the ship as it is being moored, Corwin has called the officers into the officers' quarters. He holds the journal of his grandfather in his hand.
"My whole life, I have wondered the story of this amulet, what it meant. And I know that my grandfather in the end, sent me back here. To end the curse his crew was a part of. I think I need to stay. Go back to Yoha's Graveyard and make sure there is absolutely no way anyone can ever unseal that temple again. I'll take some time to recruit some worthy souls--you've given me more than enough experience in bragging and whipping workers into shape." He wraps his meaty hands around each of yours. "It hasn't been long, but thank you for everything. And good luck."
You hear the crowd murmuring and shouting outside. "One thing: you've made quite a name for yourselves. Especially after this. That's good--but a big port like this, word will spread quick. I think it'd be a bad idea to wait much longer to petition the Hurricane King. Or the Free Captains will see you, and the plunder we've earned here, as free pickings. Of course, I know whatever you do, you'll figure a way out. Good luck."
He bids you farewell, and debarks.
Thren gives Corwin a big smile as he departs. "I don't think that place could be in better hands," she tells the big man warmly. "Good luck."
Then she turns to Lark. "Let's handle docking fees, get ashore, and relax. Though he's right, we need to get our petition to Port Peril. If we can recruit a few people here it'd be good. We've lost Sunstruck's magic and Corwin's muscle."
Chakam nods as Chad speaks about the curse. The human wasn't particularly excited about certain aspects of the sea life, and was enough superstitious to be anxious about it - however, he knew how to keep his pretense, and wrapped his posture as if things were simply normal.
He introduces himself, and the conversation continues. The Druid gets more comfortable with Sunstruck as well. Finally, when he reveals his wish to depart ways, Chakam replies in a confident yet somewhat humble way, uncharacteristic for him.
Well, I'm mor'of a gunnah', if ya' know what I mean... But I'm sure between me and Chad heer' we should help'em cover these bases. - he taps his fingers amicably - We will keep'an eye on tha' waves for whatever it brings.
Chad nods at Chakam's words. "Aye, assumin' there not be any bad blood unknown to me, I can help them with figuring out where they are and how to get elsewhere at least." Giving Chakam a grin, he adds, "And while he might be better with big siege weapons than I am, I doubt that he would wager against my skills with a longbow. Well, at least not a second time." Giving the red-headed half elf a smile, he shakes his hand.
"I am sure that paths might cross again. But should they not... and should you need something to earn coin while here, look up my father's shipwright shop. His is not an easy line of work, mind you, but it is honest. Seek out Chase Wassen, let him know that Chad sent you his way."
Standing up, Chad finishes his drink. "Shall we head down to the docks, Mister Chakam? Who knows when our ticket to fortune might arrive?"
Internally, he adds, And perhaps a bit of vengeance against those arrogant Chellish tars...
Lark doffs his tricorne and returns Corwin's grip. "Aye, you'll be missed, but I'm glad to hear our little patch up job will get some extra attention. You should include the Iomedaean monastery when you're recruiting, they've got a personal connection with that island. Fair winds, my friend."
Lark nods in agreement with Threnody's suggestion. He adds, "When you say 'relax' you really mean lead this crowd to the Broken Cask and regale them with a song about our victory, right?" The young man gives her a lopsided smile. "We've done this dance before, are you up for it again today?"
As the mooring ropes from the Besmara's Whim are tossed down Lark grabs a line a mounts the railing. He pitches his captain's voice to carry to the crowded gates. "Ahoy, Hell Harbor! You've got a new island to the east, I would christen it Miria's Rest." Lark brandishes Yoha's journal. "Yoha was a &@!# with no respect for hard working sailors." He gestures to indicate his crew and ship. "But he'll trouble you no more! If you want the full story come to the Broken Cask and buy us round. Now make way!"
Kahuranga gives Corwin a hearty handshake and says, "May the seas you travel be calm and the skies blue, friend. We shall miss your strong arm!."
"Right!" The tiefling woman replies with a saucy smile. "Let's get there and I'll sing a song or two of Yoha and his fate at our hands." Thren disembarks quickly and heads to the Broken Cask, a new song forming in her head.
As you try to head for the Broken Cask, encouraging the assembled crowd to follow, you hear a familiar voice--Sunstruck--calling out to you. The half-elf is pushing his way through the crowd, eyes bright. Two men are with him, both seasoned looking mariner types--one mostly human-looking, another a sylph... who looks familiar. You are sure it looks like Chad, a man who worked alongside Lee in the Aurora's Kiss quartermaster's office.
Sunstruck addresses you. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you safe and sound. I wanted to introduce you to these fellows... well, one says he knows Lark and Thren already."
Chakam agrees and, after a long sip, follows with Chad and their guide towards the docks.
The bard waves and smiles as Sunstruck appears. "You just described a shipful of people!" She laughs. But she does see Chad. "Another survivor! At this rate I wonder if we'll be able to fill a ship with our fellow survivors."
As they are turning to leave, Chad is startled by the appearance of the very people they had just been discussing. They did survive.... thank Desna... Despite having every reason to believe the rumors he had heard and the testimony of Sunstruck... it just was somehow more true now that he actually had the chance to see them in person.
Hearing Thren's comment, his eyebrows go wide. "There are others? Up until recently I had thought that... well, nevermind what I thought. It is good to see you Miss Nocturne. And you as well, Mister Greenwood. Or 'Captain' Greenwood now, according to Mister Lealtus. Congratulations are in order, both on that and somehow coming back from Yoha's Graveyard without losing your sanity." A small laugh causes the winds around him to make Chad's hair flow upward briefly.
"Well, without losing any more of your sanity, that is. You all will have to regale me with the tales of your exploits for the last few months, first round is on me." Seeing Chakam looking out of place momentarily, Chad gestures to him. "This is Master Chakam by the way. We met while hunting imps in the area. Good gold to be made in that trade, but I gather that like me he aims for something... less bound to a given port, if you take my meaning."
Thren looks amused. "Being fair the only other survivors we've seen are Lee and Maran. Lee's at our base. Maran went off on her own again. Still, in the space of a season, what're the odds that we'd meet up again?"
She extends a hand to Chakam. "Hunting imps? Good. Annoying little pests. Threnody Nocturne, First Mate on Besmara's Whim. Anyone who hunts those vermin is all right by me."
It would be mah’ pleasure tah’ navigate with ya’. - Chakam finally said, joyful for finding the crew - Wahne first told me about ya’ merry band, and in mah search I crossed paths with Chad. Like her, like him, like you, I’m also... Not in good terms with Harrigan and staff. - he whispers the last part, concerned with the wrong ears in the port.
The human steps closer to Nocturne, Chad and the others.
I know how tah’ operate the heavier ship weaponry, if ‘ya catch my lure. And ‘spite bein’ human, my heart is as much of tha’ seas as the undine’s herself.
The tiefling woman looks at her captain meaningfully. "That's both a good skill to have and a good name to drop. Wahhe, that is. Harrigan...not a good one. How about you join us and we can talk? We've lost a couple good men, so we're looking for crew."
"We're always looking for new crew." Lark says with a grin. "Chad, it's a surprise, but a very pleasant one. Thank you for the congratulations and thank the Black Lady for her whim." He tips his hat with it's prominent skull emblem.
"Chakam, good to meet you too. Let's continue this at the tavern. I've promised these folks a show." He tilts his head, indicating the crowd. "After that I'm looking forward to hearing your story just among friends."
So saying Lark leads the way to the Broken Cask.
Chad grins back at Lark, nodding as he vocalizes his own reaction to finding out their fate and ship name.
"Aye, I may not follow that particular lady, but any sailor would be wise to pay homage where homage is due." Turning to Thren as they all begin to walk to the Cask, he adds, "Mister O'Neld survived? That is good to hear, though I never did trust that cat of his. Too... aware... of its surroundings, if you take my meaning. Don't remember much about Maran, though I thank the North Star and its Queen that any of us survived that day."
Thren decides not to tell Chad about the changes the cat's gone through, figuring she'd get a laugh later. "Lee is back at our little base right now, actually. Maran wandered off again. You sign on again you'll get to see him soon enough."
Upon arriving at the Broken Cask and a table being procured, Thren gets herself a drink.
Mug at hand, the bard calls out to the assembled crew and pirates, standing on the table (if that's permitted).
"A toast," she proclaims loudly, smiling confidently. "To Besmara's Whim, for braving Yoha's Graveyard and returning to tell the tale!" Taking a drink, she then begins to sing of the trip. The bard brings her voice low as the party find themselves unhealthily influenced by diseases. The song gets a special chorus every time Sandara blasts the undead with Besmara's might. Staccato as Kahuranga's lightning hits the swarms. She ends on a long drawn-out note when the Gryphon Unfettered is claimed by Lark.
When the song winds down, the bard finally plops down, taking in any accolades with a grin before wetting her whistle.
Upon arrival, Chad takes out a six gold pieces and hands them over to Mana with a cordial smile. Gesturing to Thren, Lark, Chakem, and Sunstroke and Kahuranga, the sylph leans in close enough to be heard. "Their first drink is on me. After that they are on their own tabs, Master Mana. I will have one of your house ales myself."
Plopping down at the table, he listens with delight as Thren recounts their latest adventure. Brings back memories, this does.