The innkeep stops mid pour and his watery eyes rise to meet those of the Priestess.
"Sorry folks." he says, slowly and deliberately leaning back and folding his arms across his chest as several men mutter disquietly behind you. "Ain't no rooms available..... not fer furreners like you anyway."
Wonderful. Friendly locals. Zed leans against the wall, crossing his arms. If the others decide to take things the less friendly route he would step in. In the meantime he scans the tavern for any unwanted attention.
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Kaz steps forward, his face nearly contrite, and says, in a voice much softer than his usual carrying tone,
"Of course we have no wish to intrude or inconvenience you, sir. We merely need a roof over our head - you know, have us all in one place rather than wandering all over willy-nilly. And of course, we're happy to pay well above going rate. You'd be doing us quite the favor..."
His hand emerges from his belt-pouch, a half-dozen shiny gold coins ready to be offered.
The man grumbles, clearly unhappy, but cold hard gold can warm almost any heart.
"Fine." he says "You can take the 2 rooms at the back. All we got anyway."
A few of the patrons look as though they might protest but seeing that it is pointless, return to their dark ales with dark moods.
"I seem to have lost my appetite", Vermundr growls. "But I suppose it's important we keep our strength up should things turn ugly."
"It may be hard to get information on our quarry if the rest of the locals are this friendly."
"It was always going to be difficult, Vermundr. We've other means at our disposal though." She nods at Hazel's suggestion to take stock of their room as she speaks, making for the back of the dilapidated inn with a few contrite nods to the innkeeper and his patrons.
Once back in the rooms, she reminds everyone, "One of the riders who came to Illmarsh is named Gregorus. I can try to scry on him again now that we're here, but with only his name to go on, he's likely to resist the magics again."
She then turns to Constantin, her face tight but also sad. "Sweetheart, I know you've done all you can to shut the world around you out of your mind, but if the others were to ask questions of the locals, would you be able to hear their thoughts if you focused? The quick ones that bubble up in the few moments between them recalling what they know and deciding whether to remain silent or lie? I know it's a terrible thing to ask," she reaches forward then and squeezes his hand, "and if it would risk the defenses you've been working so hard to put up, then forget I asked."
Constantin pauses at Vala's request, then he takes off his hat and nods his head. "I can do that," he says. "There's... something going on here, some larger picture to this community that I can't quite put my finger on... I'll do what I can to feel out the locals as we try to find out their motives."
Zed nods. "I think we should take care to not travel alone. At least two at a time, none of the locals need an excuse to try anything they'll regret."
"The town hall may be a good start, hopefully we can at least get some information there." Zed offers.
The town hall is a large, brick three-story building. The double doors open onto a wide hall with a slate floor. A large desk sits to one side behind which sits a young girl with sandy blonde hair who is shuffling through papers as you enter.
A corridor leads off from the hall flanked by a series of doors. A stairway also leads up to the higher floors.
Ummm... hello? the girl says.
"Umm... well.. town records... I guess? I don't know I just take appointments really." the girl replies somewhat hesitantly. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"
"Oh.. Umm... I wouldn't know anything about that, I only work here a couple of days." you note that the girl is probably no more than 17 years old and carries none of the signs of 'that Illmarsh look', that you have seen on other citizens here. "People around here notice strangers in town," She says knowingly. "The sheriff would know I guess but he's out. You're welcome to wait...? Or you could ask in the Inn, it's the only place to stay if your friend stopped off."
Only one place to stay for outsiders. A bottleneck for the locals to closely observe. Paranoid indeed.
"I guess you could say that, everybody knows everybody around here. Oh your friend wasn't there?" the girl replies amicably enough
Zed frowns, the girl's last word cutting through to him. Not trying to give us the runaround are you?
Vala shakes her head, "No, I'm afraid not. But perhaps our best bet would be to speak with the sheriff as you suggested. Do you mind if we wait or would it be better to make an appointment and come back later?"
"Oh I don't know. He patrols the town and the hinterlands so could be anywhere really. I don't know how long he'll be..."
"Let's try asking around the town square", Vermundr suggests after seeing how unhelpful the clerk is. "There's a chance that someone that works in the area saw the rider on his way through town."
"We should see what shops or businesses are at least nominally open to the public. We can make the rounds under the excuse that we are re-provisioning for a journey. The locals may be slightly better disposed to us if they think we are leaving..."
"We only wish to learn more so we can expedite our leaving." Zed offers.
Vala turns to the others and offers softly so the young clerk can't overhear, "I think we're overwhelming the dear girl." She pats Hazel on the arm encouragingly, "Sweetheart, I think she might open up to you, but I'm going to head back into the square so there aren't so many tall folk looming over her." She smiles and excuses herself, and warmly accepts the company of anyone who cares to join her.
When back in the center of town, she fixes her gaze on the statue. "I wonder what secrets or stories you're keeping." Her words are directed at the monument, and a breath later she turns to Pyth, "Well, let's find out, shall we?"
Two centuries ago, when the smuggler captain Cassius Undiomede proved too much of a thorn in the side of the Count of Versex to ignore, yet remained too difficult to pin down and bring to justice, the count did the only thing that he could to bring the rogue to heel—he granted him a lordship.
Lord Undiomede was given the stretch of coastline from the Detstach River to the northern edge of the Soddentimbers with the rights and duties to all incomes derived therein. Captain Undiomede’s cargoes were now legitimate and therefore subject to taxation by the county. The smuggler’s camp used by Undiomede became the settlement of Baytown (eventually renamed Illmarsh), and the count’s own customs office was placed prominently in the center of town.
Now a legitimate trader, Lord Undiomede built up Baytown as a fishing and trading community and relocated his residence, known as Undiomede House, beyond the
edge of town to the site of an old ring of stone menhirs, erected thousands of years earlier by a savage druid cult that occupied the area before waves of settlers drove them out.
Lord Undiomede quickly became a successful merchant— his trading ventures always proved lucrative, with nary a ship lost to the merciless storms of Lake Encarthan. Baytown’s fishing f leet always seemed to come in with the most bountiful of catches, and even long-lost sunken treasures turned up in the fishing nets of the townsfolk with astonishing regularity. Tax revenue f lowed from Baytown into Versex’s coffers—in amounts far greater than expected from the tiny town—causing no end of speculation in Thrushmoor as to the source of Undiomede’s ungodly luck.
The count and his councilors assumed that Undiomede was continuing to smuggle lucrative contraband to reap these huge profits, using the supposed bounty of Baytown to hide his trafficking, but neither the count’s customs officers nor secretly hired investigators ever uncovered any trace of such wrongdoing.
The girl eases somewhat back in her seat, looking slightly more comfortable with your presence. Despite that, it doens't appear as though she has anything that useful to tell you.
Later, Hazel and Zed go past the Whistler's Place and across the town square. To the south another large building stands, this one with a crooked steeple and large double doors, ostensibly a church.
To the west are a series of small buildings, possibly residential, what appears to be a tavern and a small store.
From here you can also see the fairly extensive wharf.
Kaz joins Vala, waiting patiently as she and Pyth work their magics.
Offering an elbow with a slight bow, he says, "Mistress Cross, would you care to join me in perusing the fine local wares and fare?"
Nodding to Hazel, Zed walks with her to the church steps, glancing about for anybody outside and trying to ascertain what gods the locals pay homage to.
The shop is a single storey building of rough hewn timber. The front door is stout and within it is fairly brightly lit through the large windows at the front.
All manner of goods are found inside with little seeming order or sense. Mostly, however you can see mundane household items and some hunting gear.
A fat man with a bulging neck eyes you suspiciously from behind the count the moment you enter.
"Riders...? I ain't seen no one new personally. But I heard there wus new folks in town. Fishin's been poor of late too, and the Neighbours h'ain't been seen fer a while. Mayhaps they got fed up with all the foreigners hereabouts lately and just up and left. Who can blame them?" he says pointedly. "Things is so bad folks have even seen the Watcher in the Bay near to town. That can't mean no good."
Kaz lets his eyes drop, as if in contrition, and mutters, just loud enough for the shopkeep to hear.
"We would hate to give offense and cause problems. Who is this Watcher in the Bay, and how can we avoid its presence?"
The man grumbles something dismissive and waves a pudgy hand as if in annoyance at Kaz' ignorance.
"You wanna buy somethin' or not?"
Constructed of dark, weather-beaten fieldstones, the building displays an archaic architectural style not seen elsewhere in town
It is a stark and obvious example of Gozreh worship - goddess of nature, storm, wave and sky.
Noting the activity around the busy wharves, Vermundr steers the investigation that direction.
"I know you're all busy so we'll keep this brief: We're looking for a stranger that came through town recently. He was on horseback and in a hurry. Likely dressed in dark colors."
Vala, who is with Kazamir and the fat-necked man in the shop and not at the wharf with Vermundr, notes the shopkeeper's tone and winces inwardly. She swallows the sudden urge to meet the man's rudeness with a bolt of lightning, but tries a different tack instead, "Oh! Of course, where are our manners?" She turns her attention to the hunting gear, and after a few moments of consideration, she gasps, "Aha!"
Kneeling down, she rises again a few moments later with a pair of bear traps in hand. "These are a start." She turns to the grumpy man behind the counter and explains, "A friend of ours fancies himself a grand wolf hunter. Do you recommend anything else that you might have for such an endeavor?"
Constantin holds a silver coin between his fingers, idly flipping it back and forth. "We don't want to take much time, and we'd like to move along as much as you'd all like us to," he adds to Vermundr's query.
Noting the activity around the busy wharves, Vermundr steers the investigation that direction.
"I know you're all busy so we'll keep this brief: We're looking for a stranger that came through town recently. He was on horseback and in a hurry. Likely dressed in dark colors."
The warehouse you saw from the road is in fact a boat-builder. A large shed with huge double doors stands with a launching ramp running up to it. A boat, currently on runners, looks as if it is about to launch. As you pass you see a burly man with strong arms and a bare chest, patches of which carry that dry greyish skin you have seen so often here, step on board. There is some commotion on the boat and when you look closer you can see he has a struggling chicken held by it's feet in his left hand. With his right, he raises a short-bladed knife and slits the bird's throat before dousing the deck of the boat in blood.
It is at that moment that you see a pair of fishermen hauling lobster pots from beside one of the jetties and Jon approaches to make conversation.
The pair, hard-looking, rough skinned men, look at Vermundr with a mixture of suspicion and distrust. But apparently one of them must think the bearded warrior and the thin man look at least somewhat ok as he slowly says:
“We haven’t had anybody new in town since that Gregorus feller showed up a while back. He mainly keeps to hisself, and don’t give no trouble.”
Zed and Hazel step into an open, colonnaded portico that they can see faces the dark waters of Lake Encarthan down toward the wharves and beyond. A stone statue of a mermaid with long, flowing green hair holding a trident and a conch shell stands in the middle of the portico, also looking out to sea.
An open archway to the east leads inside through which two leaded stained-glass windows to the north and south display images of the same mermaid depicted by the statue and beyond which he can see rows and rows of pews within a central meeting hall, decorated with a decidedly nautical theme. A wooden statue of the same mermaid depicted elsewhere in the temple stands at the front of the hall, though she holds a strange octopoid creature in one hand rather than a conch shell.
Many of the pews are occupied and you guess there are perhaps twenty people in attendance of a service being held by a priest at the far end of the hall. He is dressed in elaborate sea green robes, with silver trim and a motif of fish leaping through the surf.
You notice that with some curiosity that the shoes of the worshippers line the initial entrance hall.
You wait patiently for the service to end which takes considerably longer than you expect.