Chumtooth sets 19 gold coins on the table and picks up the piece of scrimshaw.
"Tell me where to find Haddon Pike, and our business is concluded."
Chumtooth nods, and leaves Carver's Hall, indicating for Faengrim and Dantes to follow. "Do not speak his name, or mention where we are going, in case ears are listening," he cautions his officers. He then proceeds immediately to the location of Haddon Pike, as given by Jaymiss Keft.
Faengrim is the last to leave. He considers Jaymiss for a moment before shrugging and following the others.
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Haddon’s residence is a small driftwood cottage perched on the rugged coast just outside of Drenchport. The front door has a simple lock, and there’s an open window at the back.
Haddon’s dead body lies inside the cottage. Two crossbow bolts protrude from his back, and his head is submerged in a fish tank. The tank holds a piranha-like creature with frilled spines, huge eyes, and lots of teeth, which has consumed most of the exposed flesh. Clutched in Haddon’s hand is a piece of driftwood carved to resemble a birdlike humanoid with a narrow beak. "A tengu," Dantes notes casually.
The angle of the bolts suggests that Haddon was shot through the window.
"Phaw!" Chumtooth says in disgust. "His identity was found out by another before us. Search his body, and the cottage, to see if there are any signs of the killer or his secrets."
How long has he been dead? Is the killer likely to still be in the area?
+2 in water, +4 v humans, +2 v aquatic humanoids, +3 to track
+2 in water, +4 v humans, +2 v aquatic humanoids, +3 to track
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Faengrim notes that the body has been dead for about a week, making it highly unlikely that the killer is still to be found. Dantes nods his agreement. Faengrim pulls one of the bolts from the body and sniffs it. "Poison," he affirms.
Searching further, Faengrim and Chumtooth find a concealed compartment in the fish tank’s heavily carved wooden base. Inside is a waterproofed bag containing 40 pp, 259 gp, and a scrimshaw walrus tusk scroll case.
Chumtooth picks up the scroll case, and looks it over for any indication of being trapped in some fashion.
Assuming he finds nothing dangerous, he opens the scroll case and examines its contents.
"Poison bolts mean he probably wasn't questioned or tortured. Somebody just wanted him dead."
"Where would a man such as this get songs and stories of the Chelish, but from Cheliax? Can either of you read the words of these Devils? I cannot," Chumtooth says. "Perhaps it is they who killed this man."
Dantes will cast detect magic on the scroll and scroll tube, seeking any sort of deception. If there is nothing of note, he'll comment "Perhaps there is a code to the music? Or invisible ink on it?"
Dantes lets out a frustrated huff. "No magic to it, unless it is quite well shrouded. Hmm. Wait. Infernal...?"
Linguistics
"Can you read the words?" Chumtooth asks, noting Dantes' careful study of the scroll.
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Dantes mumbles as he carefully pours over the document. When his captain speaks, Dantes starts; he was so absorbed in the writing he had forgotten where he was.
"Your pardon, captain. There appears to be some coding in here. Row-ee-nuh Kell-et. Yes, definitely a name. If I am interpreting this right, Haddon was to report on ships coming to Drenchport. He was to give his reports to one Roweena Kellet in Hell Harbor. Yes, Devil's Arches, Hell Harbor." He looks up at his captain and adds "I think that's all of the message, but I'll take more time to confirm it." He nods at the end of the statement, affirming his confidence in his interpretation.
"Then Hell Harbor is out next port," Chumtooth replies. "Knowing more of this trail of spies may be of use to us."
He picks up the bag of coins and tosses it to Dantes. "Distribute this to the crew if we catch no prize between here and there, otherwise add it to the coffers."
He looks to Faengrim. "Have the crew ready the Kiss to depart."
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The Kiss of Vengeance sails for Hell Harbor. Three days later, you find yourselves in the port city. A quick ask about reveals information around town identifies Roweena as a harbor quartermaster in the employ of Arronax Endymion, lord of Hell Harbor, and a former admiral in the Chelish navy. Roweena manages two of Endymion’s smaller trade warehouses, but she’s recently gone missing. Finding her address proves as simple as asking about such, but the front door of Roweena’s house has been broken open, and the place has been ransacked.
Chumtooth gives a rumbling growl in his chest as he surveys the destroyed residence. ”Someone is hiding their tracks. They know they are being followed.”
Faengrim goes in with his greatsword ready.
+2 in water
Chumtooth glances around the room for any clues as to who or what destroyed the place.
Dantes lets the others lead the way in the ransacked home. He follows behind, looking for any signs of objects of value. Knowing that they found this place due to a coded message, he particularly is looking for other objects that may also be encoded; letters, paintings, patterns on rugs or furniture...
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You find little of use, but Faengrim finds a ledger listing the names of numerous major pirate lords of the Shackles, each with a large number beside it.
Linguistics
Pouring over the ledger, Dantes remarks "This is odd. These are pirate lords and amounts. Maybe money going to them, or coming from them. But if the pirate lord's amount is zero, there's others below them with amounts... She wouldn't have buying or selling something for amounts that range so widely... Bribes. These are bribes to the pirate lords, probably to betray at some time. And if they have a zero, these others below them must be crew members bribed to betray the pirate lord instead!"
Skimming down, Dantes stops at one. "Arronax Endymion. No number, just a dash. No underlings listed. Perhaps they haven't gotten to him yet? Or maybe they are avoiding him for some reason?" He looks to his captain and fellow officer to see if they have ideas.
"Perhaps this Arronax is the one they are trying to undermine?" Chumtooth speculates.
"Maybe we should have a conversation with him then?"
Dantes strokes his beard, deep in thought.
Knowledge (local)
"Another name," Chumtooth grumbles. "Belonging to another dead spy, I wager. We have no other signs to follow. Shall we ask around about this Corlan?"
"I agree. We are following the harlot's hem, but right now, this is the way the stars lead us."
Chumtooth leads the group to the nearest pirate's tavern, and begins asking questions about a sailor named Corlan. He makes sure to give his name with each inquiry, and that his belt of shrunken heads is in plain sight.
Inside the tavern, the new arrivals to Hell Harbor get around to asking about some fellow named Corlan. Eventually they stop at the bar where they spy a tall, lithe, dark-haired, human-looking young woman who is clearly in her cups. She stinks of rum and is holding a bottle in one hand and her head with the other. Though her lids droop with the drink, the group sees that the woman has two different-colored eyes: one a vibrant green and the other a near-golden amber. Despite her inebriation, she remains well-groomed, with thick curly black hair that frames her face and falls past her shoulders. A rapier sits sheathed on her belt, dangling precariously. And a silver, lustery metal plate covers her chest, looking strikingly like mithral. Over this, she wears a lovely blue coat with golden trim that completes the ensemble and gives off the notion of a pirate who has been able to do reasonably well by herself.
But perhaps the most striking thing about her is less her and more the tiny creature that clambers up the stool next to her: a blue-ringed octopus, fully out of the water, using its suckers to move up and around until it lounges around her neck. It looks like the octopus' skin shimmers slightly, like the gentle rippling of pond water. The octopus looks at the newcomers intently.
She looks them over in turn: a curious looking bunch of reprobates. And this Chumtooth, a Kuru by the looks of it, has belt of shrunken heads wrapped around his waist. Had he decapitated and shrunk them all himself, or had he acquired them specifically to look menacing?
"Corlan," she repeats, her slurred voice pitched deep. "Cooorlaaan." She hiccups and excuses herself, leaning in slightly. "Do you know a Corlan?" she says, looking sidelong at the octopus around her neck. The octopus visibly shrugs as though it understood her. "I might know that name, but my mind is a bit foggy today. Sit down and let me get you all a drink while I try to remember."
She yawns, reaches into a pouch at her belt, and pulls out a grape. She then plops the grape into a pitcher of water sitting at the bar, waving her hand and chanting a few words. The grape audibly pops and the water turns honey-yellow. She speaks a few more words and her droopy eyelids rouse a bit. She then pours some of the liquid into a spare glass and takes a long sip while a bartender polishing a glass at the end gives her a dirty look.
"Well then, please drink. My name is Carmelia. This is Hap. Chumtooth made sure to introduce himself, but who are the two of you and what brings you to Hell Harbor?"
After carefully watching that the woman is drinking what she poured, Chumtooth picks up the glass, raises it in salute and quaffs it.
He feels the effects on his perceptions as everything int the room comes into clearer focus. "You have learned the shaman's art, yes?" he asks Carmelia.
Carmelia's left eyebrow rises and a wry smile crawls across her face. She gives a non-committal answer.
"What gave you that impression?" she asks. "I might have. I could be a wizard, or a druid, or even one of those--ah, what do they call themselves?--a bard. This is simple, but effective, magic. Pirates are always aiming to drink: better to make them do their jobs better if they're aiming to be sloshed. One of these could make more than a keg if I had enough liquid."
She looks at Hap, slung around her shoulders and pulling a small shotglass of the mead deftly towards his mouth. His speckled eyes still scan carefully around, scrutinizing the newcomers.
”I have seen all of those,” Chumtooth replies. ”Wizards, priests, bards...You seem like a shaman. Kuru have shaman. I know them. Kuru shaman serve the Blood Queen, do you?” he fixes her with his piercing, large pupils.
Carmelia leans back against the bar. Blood Queen?
"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with the Blood Queen. I serve the Sea herself, though I give deference to the gods who deserve it. The Pirate Queen, for instance."
She stares back with her mismatched eyes, trying to get a read on the man, as it seemed he was on her.
Chumtooth visibly relaxes as Carmelia admits her unfamiliarity with the Dark Patron of the Kuru People. ”The Sea. Yes. The Sea favors the strong, and those with the courage and mind to see beyond.” He nods, approvingly.
Carmelia's muscles likewise untense as the kuru calms. Perhaps this Kuru was less amicable towards the goddess of his people, or had had poor experiences with her acolytes. Curious.
"And you," she prompts. "What do you and your friends favor? And why are you seeking this Corlan?"
”I speak no prayers, but welcome the disciples of any god who does not demand my blood as sacrifice, or would enslave me with taboos. The so-called Just Gods are as bad as the bloodthirsty, as I have seen. We have a priestess of Besmara among our crew and the Pirate Queen has aided us through her before. As for Corlan, he is a piece to a puzzle not yet assembled.”
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A nearby woman, small and colorful despite her dark and mysterious clothing, perks up at the discussion. "A puzzle, you say? And you come to a place of drink to solve it? Very interesting. But why are you so concerned about your blood being used as a sacrifice? Blood gives life, to be sure, but it has so many other uses as well..."
"We came here because sailors talk of other sailors when they drink," Chumtooth replies to the tiny newcomer. "The name of Corlan might be known here. As for blood. I know its power." He pulls back his lips in a broads smile, revealing his sharp, pointed teeth. "I will take it from those who face me in battle, but I will not give my own. Not to men, beasts, gods or demons."
Faengrim stays near his captain, silent and protective. With Chumtooth in conversation, Faengrim doesn't drink unless Chumtooth hands it to him.
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"Wise one, yes you are. Have you faced many gods or demons before?"
The woman stands up off her stool, and you easily recognize her now to be of gnomish heritage. She comes around the bar, closer to Chumtooth.
"I know not of this Corlan, I am sorry to say. Those around here call me Navasi. I would be interested to hear more of this puzzle you are trying to solve, though. Perhaps I can help you if you tell me more."
Carmelia regards the gnome interloper with a curious nod. She thinks she's seen her in here before, but between the drink and the reasons for drinking, she wouldn't be willing to bet on it. She offers the gnome a pour from the half-drained pitcher of mead.
"Carmelia," she offers as the gnome introduces herself. "If we've met before, forgive me."
Corlan...was he one of the ones she had gambled with a few nights back? Or that deckhand who was strung up for screwing around with his captain's favorite wench? No, couldn't be one of those. Think, Carmelia, think...
Chumtooth tosses the local a silver piece. "Your next drink is paid," he says, nodding to the stranger. "To the Rookery," he says to Faengrim and Dantes. "If either of seek a berth on my ship, you may join my crew," he says to Carmelia and Navasi. "Come now, or await us at the Kiss of Vengeance, docked in the harbor. If not, fair winds to you both." He rises from the table and heads for the door.