Bedlam accompanies the group about town. The dwarf purchases many alchemical supplies for crafting. He even purchases a few Alchemist extracts to add to his formula book. Dropping into magical arms and armor shops, the dwarf e en upgrades his attire a bit.
When once again walking among his peers, the dwarf actually looks clean and proper; his clean and neatly braided black beard hanging proudly low past his glistening and sparkling broad belt buckle with the symbol of Torag printed on it. The dwarf's clothing and armor cleaned, pressed and all black protrays a new seriousness. A new haversack slung securely across his back twins in placement a mastercrafted heavy pick; arcane runes scribed along its head. A cold iron warhammer is strapped to his belt. Iron vials filled with liquids of varying colors crisscross his broad chest in matching bandilers.
Me be think'n dat we all be dealig wit dat durn dragon t'getter! Me be lik'n Tragershen plan.
The next evening, Tragershen is at the communal table at the inn. He has his journal books open next to blank ones. An ink quill is working of its own accord, copying the contents of the books. While the pen does its work, Tragershen is also diligently working away with scrolls and his spellbook.
He says to the rest of the group ”We need to decide our course of action. I think we can stay a week at most. Then what? Travel by ship, or spell?”
-Negative levels. Trag and Mone have one each, Bedlam has two. The cleric’s can dispel them at a rate of one a week with restoration.
-Crafting. It takes one day per 1,000 gp value of the crafting, so a while.
Reasons to go:
-The dragon. Nine days until Anzath’s deadline. And it will probably take us two days by ship to get to the general area.
-Keep things moving. We’re here to delve the depths, not cool our heels in town.
Also, who wants to hold onto the Spike of Anoma? It is a spell storing dagger +3 that we shouldn’t sell because we might need it in RA. I would count it as a party treasure item, not part of the split for the individual who carries/uses it.
So, it looks like we have four options:
1. Hire a rogue ship to take us to the dragon’s island. Probably will cost 1,600 gp.
2. Hire Lamb to leave early (if it would actually be early) with the Laughing Dolphin and drop us off on the coast near the mouth of the river, and wait for it to come to us.
3. Take Sylvester up on this scroll offer to teleport to and from the island. It would only be a few of us going though. Cost 4,500 gp.
4. Contact the dragon via the sending scroll. Ask it to come to us, or for an extension?
I think we could wait a week for any of those options and still be on time. That means Bedlam would still have a negative level before we leave. Maybe the Saranaeites could give us a scroll of restoration for his last negative level.
Anzath promotes taking the first available ship and getting in as close to the dragon's isle as possible. The Sending scroll is a failsafe. She even offers to foot the bill.
She reports that the proxy war being fought in the lands around Zelkor's Ferry and Rappan Athuk are complicating things. If the group is to continue to do business in Riddleport, we may have to choose sides appropriately.
She suggests Tragershen continue to hold onto the spike.
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A couple of days before they leave for the dragon rendezvous, Tragershen goes to see Sylvester again.
”Again, I wanted to say I appreciate you standing up for me. It occurs to me that if we fail to emerge from Rappan Athuk, all we have learned may be lost. So I would like to give you a copy of my records of our ventures so far. And each time we return, I shall provide updates.” With that, he hands over three tomes. The first is labelled “Rappan Athuk vol. 1: The Mouth of Doom.” The second is “Rappan Athuk vol. 2: The Fountain of Pestilence.” The third is “Rappan Athuk vol. 3: Beneath the Mausoleum.”
He adds ”This experience has made me refocus on why I went to Rappan Athuk to begin with. Treerazer still terrorizes my homeland, and I seek answers to bring about its end. But I will not forget what Necator did to me. I will continue to seek a way to find its true name and banish it from this plane for centuries to come.”
With that, he returns to his shopping, scribing and crafting until their departure by sea.
Elma Bourse leads the party through the winding streets of Riddleport. Her guards (some of your recognize them as survivors of the first expedition, Sarge and the Private) follow—the private soldier keeps you just in eyesight, and the old warrior keeps just behind the pup. That way anyone tailing you is sure to be noticed. “I can deal with these types because they know I’m careful,” explains Elma. She leads you ever-closer to the floating shantytown of houseboats on the periphery of the port. She leads you over unstable, half-rotten piers among the stench of the city’s sewers and the fishmarket—this is a place of the broken-down. Looking back for a signal from her guards, she nods to a particularly ratty (not wereratty) looking hobo who then shoves open a door of a soot-begrimed floating longhouse, the kind usually used as the cheapest of warehouses. But this one is different.
Inside, a sleek sloop floats in a pool of water. Elma nods at the men who spring to the alert with a flash of steel and a crackle of magic syllables. “It’s you. These the ones?”
Elma quickly arranges passage for all of you, handing over a sack of Anzath’s gold. While Tragershen’s plan to drop off the party and summon Aragnak is discussed, the blockade runners surprise everybody by explaining that they would prefer to go directly to the isle. “We know ‘im. It’s our whole secret, ya see. Named the dang boat ‘Red Dragon’ after ‘im, but it’s the gold we pass ‘im that makes it safe for us ta operate in waters that are forbidden to others. It’s worth it to keep the onyx flowin’ to the necromancers… in these dark times, we also run those what can pay us off the island, and we sometimes facilitate a lil’ ransom. It’s a living. Just gotta remember with dragons: don’ laugh, don’ lie, don’ steal. An’ pay.”
Thus the party departs the city of Riddleport for the Isle of Aragnak. They have new equipment, crafting supplies, and the experience gathered through a narrow escape in the Dungeon of Graves. Now, to face the dragon. But first, you must face the sea. The Red Dragon departs in the dark and rain of the evening...
Other than a disturbing large shark fin and a bobbing corpse, you see nothing special on your outward journey.
The morning of the 29th finds you onboard the ship and just outside a small harbor on Aragnak's Isle. The blockade runners have a small chest of treats for the beast already prepared. You may go ashore or make plans or whatever you'd like. After dealing with the dragon, the blockade runners will drop you on the mainland, but they balk at taking you all the way upriver to Zelkor's Ferry without more pay.
Anzath spends the journey hands clasped tight to the railing, eyes fixed forward beyond the prow of the ship towards their destination. The bag of holding with weapons and gold always on her person.
The mention of providing onyx for necromancers is troubling, considering their many encounters with the undead, but, today these smugglers are a necessary asset. If tomorrow they meet as foes, so be it.
Arriving at the island, Anzath has a look around before disembarking.
When the group gathers to discuss plans...
Can we trust them not to abandon us once we are out of sight on the island? he asks in Drow sign language.
How big is the island? Is it obvious where the dragon is lairing, or will we be exploring?
The island is about ten miles long--you've seen it on Bristleback's map, so you know roughly how it is shaped. But you don't need to go 'splorin' right now, because the boatmen point out a ruined stone fort commanding the small natural harbor you've just entered. A plume of smoke rises from within the walls. "That's Himself."
Also good to note: they navigated the vessel through a series of complicated reefs on your way into the island. Once inside, they tie up to the decrepit docks and begin unloading treasure chests.
Aurora keeps a careful eye on Tragershen during their stay in Riddleport, and it does not ease up on Aragnak's island. The wizard, he is not permitted to die again on her watch.
She dips her head in faint appreciation to the boatmen as they point out the dragon's lair.
Betraying heavily armed warriors and mages, while leaving them alive, tends to be poor business. So I will play those odds. replies Talathel.
He makes an appreciate gesture at the boatmen before disembarking.
Lolygert shops, asks Tarershen to magick up his bow and make a few other things, then follows the others on their journey to appease the Dragon, growing more and more curious.
On the boat ride to the Dragon's Isle, he leans over to the resurrected Bedlam, "So what's the deal with the Dragon? "
The dwarf shrugs his broad shoulders a bit at Lolly's question.
Be un greedy dragon. Our dark elf be mak'n un deal wit it and now we be buying time til we be tak'n our shit back!
The dwarf grins.
Lolygert grins back at Bedlam, rolling his shoulders, "That sounds like fun! " he laughs, then watches as the sailors navigate the reefs .
When the ship bumps up against the dilapidated dock, Lolygert jumps off and looks up at the fort, "So that's where it lives?" asking no one in particular.
Anzath waits until everyone's ready to depart for the smoke signaling Aragnak's location. She reaches out and gives Tal's hand a reassuring squeeze, and Mone a comforting scratch on the head, although the reassurance and comfort is likely meant for her.
When all are assembled on the dock, she leads the way, no point in being stealthy about it.
"Hold on to your buttz."
A voice booms down from the ruined fortress, echoing off the scrubby (and scorched, in places) seaside vegetation. The men unloading the ship drop to their knees. "Prišel si, služabnik! Bilo je modro od tebe. Kakšen počast imate za Rdečega zmaja?" Echoes resound across the harbor.
Tragershen translates. "The drake says 'You have come, servant. It was wise of you. What tribute do you have?'"
He looks back at the crew unloading the ship. Good, they aren't fleeing the dragon... He envisions what would happen if they tried to get away in a quick panic in a very flammable ship and shudders.
Anzath too falls to one knee at the sound of Aragnak's voice. She bristles inwardly at the word 'servant', but lowers her head and powers through.
"Ve have vhat you asked for. Veaponz from de Dungeon of Gravez, and gold for you, Master. Ve have killed and died to bring you dis vealth."
Bedlam busys himself by kicking tuffs of dirt.
Lolygert stands looking between the keep from which the voice comes from and Anzath, a frown on his head, his fists on his hips.
Talathel squeezes Anzath's hand in return.
His other hand grasps a weapon.
It would look strange if I did not.
Aragnak beats his wings and rises into the air beyond his stone walls. Soon, the massive drake is wheeling over the party, keeping his distance while thoroughly scoping you out. “Med vami so novinci. Ali mi prinesejo tudi poklon?”
He is clearly not scared of you after his assessment. The mighty, Huge dragon casts a few spells while airborne before swooping down in to a skidding halt on the beach by the dock. He looks a bit excited as he eyes everyone's fancy new equipment. “Imate tako lepe stvari!”
Aragnak knows that you’re completely decked out with all the wonderful things you’ve just purchased in Riddleport! He is impressed with your taste and discernment and looks eager to start piling it all up in his lair.
Mone stares at Aragnak with shameless admiration and wonder.
Adelie keeps one hand on Mone, partially to warn her against running up to Aragnak in foolish excitement, but mostly because the contact slightly lessens his terror.
He tries to look small and respectful as he listens to the exchange and awaits translation.
As the dragon circles, Tragershen continues to translate.
"He is asking if the newcomers amongst us are bringing him tribute."
And then...
"He compliments us on the nice things we now carry." There is a hint of panic rising in the elf's voice as he relays the last message, despite his best efforts to keep it reigned in.
Anzath remains kneeling, her eyes fixed on the toe of her boot. With Trag translating, she answers, "Master, ve have brought vhat ve agreed and more. Vhat ve now karry iz to better serve you. Vhat iz ourz iz yourz, az much az ve are yourz, my Lord. Our tribute iz our service."
Smejiš me, vilin. Še vedno si slab lažnivec. Vaša jeza je jasno videti, vaši načrti za maščevanje meni so očitni. Zaupam vaši jezi bolj, kot bi zaupal vaši dobri volji. Sprejel bom vašo ponudbo. Že nekaj tednov ste bili v moji službi, vaša jeza bo minila, ko boste izvedeli, kako ime Aragnak straši vaše sovražnike! Opazoval sem te. Vaše izginotje v mesto moških se je zdelo dramatično. Kaj ste videli v globinah pod Rappanom Athukom?
The dragon raises its mighty wings as he speaks, and as he pronounces the name of the Dungeon of Graves he roars out the syllables with all of his mighty force. The stones of the harbor and the old fortress resound Rappanom Athukom! Rappanom Athukom! Rappanom Athukom!
Tragershen leans towards Anzath, since this message is clearly intended for her. But he speaks loud enough for all to hear. "He says that you amuse him. 'You are still a bad liar. Your anger is clear to see, your plans for revenge against me are obvious.' He says 'I trust your anger more than I would trust your goodwill. I accept your offering. You have only been in my service for a few weeks, your anger will pass when you learn how the name of Aragnak strikes terror into your foes.'"
"He says he has been watching you. 'Your disappearance to the city of men was... surprising? Dramatic? He wants to know what was seen in Rappan Athuk."
Anzath chances a glance up to Tragershen, but dares not look upon Aragnak. As much as she seethes being enslaved, she fears the dragon even more. If he can sense her thoughts, he should know she is in full submission to his power.
She tries to gather her thoughts.
"Ve have killed de moder of spiderz and her nest. Ve have kleared de Demon’z Gullet of servantz of Orcuz. Ve found de entrance into Dungeon, eliminated monster of shit, exterminated nest of vere-vermin, and vere attacked by kompany of ghoulz."
"De ghoulz took toll on uz. Ve had to pay to eskape. Dere iz temple deeper in Dungeon, more servantz of Orcuz. Armiez of undead. Ve vill strike again vhen ready, Master. Ve vill prove our vord."
Aurora passes a slow look between Anzath and Aragnak, doing her best to keep track of the Great Red's mood.
One hand is wrapped around her quarterstaff, the butt of it planted to the ground and her leaning against it as one might a walking stick, the gesture more one of habit and familiarity than anything else. She hums thoughtfully.
Aurora is no experienced draconic psychologist, but she can sense that the dragon's pure arrogance in his exercise of power has led him to feel truly amused by Anzath's halfhearted submission (even as he recognizes it becoming gradually more genuine). His greed is piqued by Anzath's framing of the expedition as an investment... he's not unhappy.
"V globini so tisti, ki bi izpodbijali mojo oblast nad to deželo. Ne ljubim Orcusa ali njegovih hlapcev. Pripeljite jim ogenj in drugo smrt v imenu Rdečega zmaja Rivenrake-a in zelo bom vesel vas, pustolovci."
"Az you vish, My Lord."
Anzath then places the bag of holding with magic blades and gold within before her. She won't rise until told.
Tragershen continues to translate. He seems relieved when the dragon states being at odds with the forces of Orcus. Other than translating, he remains quiet, letting Anzath handle the exchange.
He does spare a glance over his shoulder at the sailors to make sure they are either remaining cowed or have returned to unloading their tribute.
Lolygert watches as the dragon appears, commenting out of the side of his mouth to Bedlam, "Hmmm, it's big....and loud..."
He watches the exchange between Anzath, Tragershen and the Dragon, getting more an more miffed at the mention of 'Ve' and 'uz' and 'our', muttering to himself, "Why she lumping me in with all of this?".
Some small glimmer of common-sense within his simple brain prevents him from shouting out his freedom from Dragon slavery, he merely grunt unhappily and crosses his arms, looking up and scowling at the sky.
Understanding Draconic, the dwarf kicks more tuffs of grass.
The dragon approaches Anzath, stretching out his neck until his head lingers above the kneeling warrior. He leers at her for a moment, and she can feel the warmth of his fiery blood.
"Ženska bi morala biti bolj ponosna na svoj videz. Tu je ogrlica za vas. Pokažite ga služabnikom Orcusa, ko jih vidite, in jim povejte, da sem ga poslal."
He hooks a strand of beads from around his own neck and places it around Anzath's. His hot breath makes beads of sweat stand out on Anzath's face... it's the heat, right?
"Všeč mi je, da vam dam nakit, temni vilin. Pridite čez en mesec z drugo ponudbo zame in vam bom dal zapestnico ali lepo obleko. Takšna ramena si zaslužijo svile, ne mitrila. In če padeš v dvorane prekletih, bi me morda celo mikalo, da bi prišel po tvoje telo. Bodite neustrašni in zberite mi veliko zakladov!"
With that, he snatches up her offering and that of the boatmen, then, beating his mighty wings, he takes to the air and circles back to the fortress perched on the high rock of the island. The party is buffeted by the air currents generated by the dragon's rising. The smugglers shrug and start back to their sloop.
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Talathel watches throughout.
Perception/profession: the walls are crumbling, but tall. The gates are collapsed. Aragnak seems to prefer flying out of the fort, so there's no clear way in from this angle. Aragnak has bandoliers of items and treasures slung across his great bulk.
Arcana: the heat rolling off of Aragnak is potentially dangerous.
Survival: No signs of minions outside the fort.
Reptile's mood: Haughty, arrogant, domineering, evil, and all that feeds into... lustful. Lustful in total-jerk creep red dragon way.
Once Aragnak leaves, Anzath arises, shakily, to her feet. Through the combination of fear keeping her anger in check, her self loathing for having to cow before such a great beast, and overwhelming relief for surviving another encounter, she feels like losing her breakfast. Somehow she keeps it down.
She turns to face the others but finds it hard to look them in the eye for very long.
"Let uz get out of here."
The dwarf pats the drow on the shoulder.
Don't yee fergit dat webe gitt'n dat dragon guud! It be only our 2nd Bank.
The dwarf grins.
Me been tink'n dat un Frost Bomb be worth discovering!
"Let us leave.", Talathel agrees.