Salli is right. You are treated to drinks and food among the locals in the small bar area. The infrequent visitors that come near receive hard stares that send them quickly toward the tavern or the fighting rings.
Eustus eventually returns near midnight and registers shock at the details of the attack, grief over the losses, and concern for the injured - especially his bodyguard. For a necromancer, he has a surprising range of curative ointments and not a few spells which he puts to liberal use.
As the necromancer circulates through the bar getting a feel for the scope of the attack, he reassures several of the prominent locals.
"I'm so sorry I was away when all this happened! In future, I'll leave a contingent of guards on duty when I'm absent to prevent this sort of disaster. Tonight, I'll see to security matters personally."
Later that evening, when you go out for a little air, you note the ghostly presence of many undead roaming through the town - ever watchful.
As you sit quietly in the bar, enjoying a good meal and hashing through the battle, you realise you've learned an awful lot about tactics, strategy, and your own limitations...
With Winsom laid up from the poison, Straehan takes a turn at the bar, serving drinks and mastering the arts of the bar towel.
Ushari nurses her wine glass, the events of a few hours ago playing over and over in her mind. She could see every detail of the death and wounding of the townsfolk in her mind.
GODS, she wished Eustus were here to hold her...
She is silent and withdrawn, remembering every detail of her visions and memories of her encounter(s) with the Dweller in Darkness. One though keeps intruding: Was this attack our fault...OR...more specifically MY fault?
Jayse is quiet after the fight, though he does go and strike up a conversation with Sali at one point, "So, does anyone here know what those things were? Do they often attack Shiv?"
"Hmmm... We get our share of strange creatures here - huge ants, ogres, giants, reavers, sea creatures, bounty hunters, even a mated pair of wyverns once. But I can't say as I've ever seen anything like these worms before."
Salli gives it a moment's thought, "Still, it's a big world and we're bound to cross paths with something new every so often."
Lowering his voice for his comrades at the table, Jofram asks, "Straehan, what was that you said about the attack being connected to Ushari? Are the ones that took our memories behind this attack, as well? Would this Dweller really attack this whole town, just to get to her?"
Jofram and the others snatch a quiet moment with Straehan while he's tending the bar. Their conversation is masked by the impromptu band that is trying to lift the mood in the unusually quiet tavern.
The gnome wipes down the counter while he answers the half-elf's question. "I was mostly joking about that. 'Shari has no more of a special connection with the Dweller than the rest of us do. His herald frequently spoke of us heroes - note the plural - waking him up and all of us posing a threat to the Dweller. If Nala' is telling the truth that the Aboleth took our memories, then I suppose it's possible the Aboleth are in collusion with the Dweller. They would make some strange bedfellows though. The Aboleth are aquatic and the Dweller, from what we can tell, is connected to the Plane of Shadow and the Shaudran structures in some way. Maybe there is a connection, maybe not. Hopefully, we can get an inkling of that in Orfallen."
He looks at Jofram seriously and, with no hint of drama, says "I think the Dweller would blast this entire island off the face of Miir if it meant that he could 'be born' into this world without hindrance - and he very much considers us a hindrance. He carved up one of his own servants just to send us a message. He slashed a personal note in the creature's hide in the middle of a battle. I have the skin, if you want to see it."
Ushari stares at Straehan with a look of bemusement on her face, "Don't tell me you still have that thing?". Her look turns serious as she faces Jofram, "Believe me, Strae speaks truly, although I have no idea how the Aboleths fit into this...I think Orfallen would hold some answers."
She lowers her voice even further, afraid of spreading the words any further than the four of them. "Do you think it is wise to tell Eustus of this?"
Straehan shrugs and wipes down a mug. "What are you thinking of telling him? It's a good bet he knows nothing of the Dweller. And I'm not sure you want to suggest that we might be the cause of an attack that killed or injured over a dozen townsfolk."
Ushari sighs, "Yeah, I suppose that would not be such a good idea. Still, I cannot help but think maybe he would understand and forgive me because...well..." her voice trails off as a creeping blush heads up her face.
She takes a long drink of wine, and sets the goblet down a little harder than necessary. "OK, I will keep my mouth shut."
"I have the skin, if you want to see it."
The distaste is obvious on Jofram’s face as Straehan’s story unfolds. “Lovely...”
Ushari sighs, "Yeah, I suppose that would not be such a good idea. Still, I cannot help but think maybe he would understand and forgive me because...well..." her voice trails off as a creeping blush heads up her face.
Straehan shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Youth.
"I'm not trying to rain on your parade, Ushari, but one night of passion - particularly on a bet - does not make a starry-eyed romance. Moreover, we have no real proof that the Dweller sent these things. Don't be in a hurry to seek absolution in the arms of a man you barely know for a crime you may not have committed."
"I have the skin, if you want to see it."The distaste is obvious on Jofram’s face as Straehan’s story unfolds. "Lovely..."
Not sure if Jofram is expressing his opinion of the full tale or the fact that Straehan chose to keep the creepy skin, the gnome can only shrug.
"Any bit of evidence may help us stack the deck in our favour when we next meet the Dweller. Vile as it is, that message is evidence - from the body it was writ on, to the curious spellings - so I kept it."
"I'm not trying to rain on your parade, Ushari, but one night of passion - particularly on a bet - does not make a starry-eyed romance. Moreover, we have no real proof that the Dweller sent these things. Don't be in a hurry to seek absolution in the arms of a man you barely know for a crime you may not have committed."
Ushari nods slowly, "I...I guess you are right. Eustus does not need to know of this. But, if the Dweller did not send those Worms, then who did?" She grimaces in frustration. "I hope Orfallen has some answers!"
"I guess the first question to ask is: 'Do Tenebrous Worms or their mature form - Gloomwings - live in the Isles?' If they do then this could be mere happenstance."
The sour expression on his face says the pint-sized sorcerer doesn't expect that to be the case.
Straehan pulls out parchment and quill... and quickly amends the list of research items with his stilted script.
The Slattern regains much of its normal atmosphere as those in mourning or shock leave to be with their families. All that are left are the staff, visitors, and the few folks in town who are relatively untouched by the events on the promenade earlier.
As newly minted 'locals' and regarded as something of heroes along with all of the survivors, Vessa, and even Mr. Bones... our heroes receive more than their share of attention from the more attractive men and women in the bar.
In some cases, the attention isn't entirely welcome as Jofram finds out when he is approached by Raymor (one of Ushari's runners-up) and receives a hard pass.
Levitan does indeed show interest and blinks at the idea of being rejected. But he takes the dismissal with good grace and a tip of his head.
Ursuul is quite happy (and a bit surprised) at being offered a second night. Seeing as Ushari isn't quite so tipsy this time, in the morning she can appreciate more fully that necromancers know anatomy. As Ursuul quips the night before...
"You know, my dear, you can't spell 'Necromancer' without 'romance'."
Jayse listens to the back-and-forth about the worms and the Dweller, his mood slowly souring. Not very likely that those things are just here by happen-stance. It seems like our presence itself may be a danger to anyone around us. By the time the evening reaches a point where Ushari is choosing her bed-mate, eliciting the local necromancer's oh-so-awesome pick-up line, Jayse can barely keep his snarky remarks to himself.
Just cause you're annoyed is no reason to be pissy to everyone else, Jayse…
Despite the fatigue in his body, Jayse finds himself with a lot of nervous energy… so much so that he can't relax. He leans over to Straehan and Jofram, "I can't sit around just now… too frustrated. Either of you wanna practice some sparring or something?"
"I can't sit around just now… too frustrated. Either of you wanna practice some sparring or something?"
“Sure - hand-to-hand, or weapons?”
The gnome looks relieved when Jofram steps up to the challenge.
"Well, I'm glad you said that my tall friend... because my answer would have been more along the lines of:
Straehan smooths his shirt. "Thankfully, I won't have to make such a cowardly announcement."
Jayse gives a strained laugh at Straehan's reaction, "I'm not looking to beat anyone up... just work off some steam. There's always something for anyone to learn in a good sparring match." Then he looks back at Jofram as he rises from his seat, "Your call on weapons versus unarmed. I don't care."
In some cases, the attention isn't entirely welcome as Jofram finds out when he is approached by Raymor (one of Ushari's runners-up) and receives a hard pass.[/smaller]Jofram informs Raymor that while he is flattered, he could never in good conscience pursue a target that one of his friends had expressed such interest in. With a meaningful look in Jayse's direction, he bids the man good luck.
Raymor raises a delicate eyebrow and looks at the muscular monk appraisingly before grabbing two drinks and bringing one over to Jayse...
As Jayse rises to make his way out to find a sparring area, he sees the exchange from across the room. When Jofram and the local man turn briefly and motion towards Jayse and Straehan's booth he gives a wave and a smile at the local… doing his best to hide his still-growing frustration. Calm down, Jayse. Just one more local come to thank us for our help with the attack… let's ignore the fact that we caused the attack. As the man approaches, Jayse settles back into the booth, keeping his courteous smile on his face.
He sees the second drink in the man's hand, and something in the man's eyes makes him wary… and uncomfortable. Jayse immediately looks over at Jofram… just in time to see the smug smirk still hanging in the half-elf's eyes.
What the crap… He doesn't get time to think more on it before the man is at the table. Jayse covers his wariness with a courteous smile, "I'm Jayse. I don't think i've had the pleasure of meeting you, yet."
Raymor gives his best disarming and come hither smile, "I'm Raymor and I suspect the pleasure would be mine..."
Jayse's subtle agitation at Raymor's ways pings the young man's non-gaydar and he realises that he's been had. After some polite conversation and another drink for Jayse, he backs off and merely thanks the monk for helping out the town. His thanks are sincere but tinged with slight disappointment in the monk's preference for heterosexual companionship.
The night passes quickly and as eventfully or uneventfully as our heroes would like. In the morning, after breakfast you say farewells to the locals you've come to know and head along the promenade to the dock and the Mako.
Good as his word, Billu kept your vessel in fine shape. Not a line or item is out of place. Billu gives you a friendly wave and a smile as you cast off. He is lying on an old chaise lounge recovering from the poisoning and battle.
With little difficulty, you fill the sail as much as you dare and carefully navigate through the hidden waterway guarding Shiv. As you glide out from the shadow of the hills and into the ocean, the winds picks up with a vengeance. It snaps the lateen sail taut and flexes the mast. Fortunately, it's a tail-wind and the Mako skips like a stone across the water, racing up the coast towards Orfallen.
U's Sailing:
S's Sailing
The wind whips...
The sea is choppy, frothing like a rabid dog...
The briny sea-spray strikes your skin with frosty needles. It is cold yet strangely pleasant, blowing the shadows of the Tenebrous Worms away and leaving you feeling oddly fresh.
You travel far and fast. The sun hits the evening horizon but it has bright competition... you see the multitude lights of Orfallen. The Mako carries you closer to the city. It is an organic, unplanned affair. Cramped, multi-storied buildings lean against each other near the wharfs while a warren of narrow alleys winds in and out between them. They are a mish-mash of colors and building styles. Further in, the roads become wider and the buildings more uniform and organized.
Judging by the nightlife near the docks, Orfallen is a bustling city at almost any hour.
You pilot your doughty little boat back and forth near the docks, getting a feel for the situation. There are clean, well-maintained, and guarded docks filled with expensive looking vessels on the North end of the wharf area. These give way to commercial vessels - merchant and passenger ships of various but uniformly large sizes. And on the South and seediest end of the wharf are a series of docks crammed with small, utilitarian, ships. They, the dock, and the milling men around them aren't particularly clean or savory. Small shacks are dotted along the docks - probably to collect berthing fees.
Ushari holds the Mako steady from the tiller turning the bow into the breeze as she turns to her companions. "Well, I am not keen on drawing any unwanted attention, but I think leaving the Mako on the South side is asking for trouble. What do you think?"
"I don't plan to leave anything on board for them to steal, but the ship itself makes for a tempting target. And given the attack in Shiv, having a few swordarms near the ship might prove wise. If we can afford it, perhaps we can dock on the edge of the North dock? Maybe we can barter with the dockmaster there?"
Jayse shrugs, "Somewhere in the middle does sound good." He points to one of the shacks, "You think we can pay to have the Mako kept in one of those? Or is that actually more obvious?"
Ushari smiles, "I don't think those shacks are big enough for the Mako. If we wanted such, then we would need to pay an arm and a leg for it." She gazes at the docks, "Plus, I think the middle areas are for the larger merchant vessels. If we pull up there, it would draw too much attention, I think."
The Mako slides into a berth between a richly appointed and sleek sailboat and a trireme gilded with the engraved images of a dozen gods. Before Jayse even jumps to the dock to secure the line, a dozen hard-eyed marines peer over the gunn'ls of the trireme and watch the newcomers - looking for threats.
An officious looking man with two armed guards stroll down to where Jayse is tying off the boat. He eyes the Mako and nods.
"There is a fee for docking here. How long are you planning to stay?"
Jayse stands when he realizes the others aren't speaking, "We're not sure yet, to be honest. We're here looking in on a shipwreck that was found far west of here... possibly related to a lot of Reaver and pirate activity in the area. What's the docking fee?"
The official's brow furrows skeptically at Jayse. He glances at the Mako again. "Docking here costs 1 Sovereign a week. And we watch this dock very closely... sir."
Ushari sighs, Why is it Jayse always seems to rub people the wrong way? She steps forward, hand in her pouch and a smile on her face. She pulls a Sovereign out and holds it out to the dockmaster. "Thank you so much for keeping watch on our vessel. I know we won't have to worry about any trouble here!"
Hmmm... maybe I should keep my mouth shut...
He uses Ushari's distraction to finish tying off the Mako, waiting for the man's response before doing much else.
He pulls open his ledger and drops the coin in while he writes out a receipt. "If your stay will continue past a week, simply come back with your receipt and we'll amend it. Now, what are the names of your party?" His quill is raised, ready to jot down your response.
Ushari pauses for a second, then decides lying here would serve no purpose.
"Ushari Velnokal."
I'm never going to find out about my past, if I hide my identity...
Nodding to the dockman, the ranger announces himself. "Jofram."
Jayse finishes the introductions while he stands to throw on his nearly-white coat, checking the blades in the sleeves, "I'm Jayse and that's Straehan. It's good to know someone will be responsible for our girl here while we're dock-side."
The bookish man scribbles in your names and closes his ledger with a snap. A curious look crosses his face as he repeats the final name. "Straehan? And a gnome at that. What are the odds? "
The prodigious sound of a LARGE number of blades clearing their scabbards assault your ears. Leaping like jackrabbits, the steely marines on the God-encrusted ship, fly over the gunn'ls - swords, axes, and belay pins brandished.
One incredibly scarred fellow seems to recognize the gnome, "GODS! It IS the Black Widow! Capture him alive if you can boys! He's got a date with the heretic's pyre!"
Including the two guards with the dockmaster... and the four additional guards racing from the quayside... it appears there are about two score armed fighters coming for you...
Straehan blinks and shakes away the strange fantasy he was having about being a wanted and hunted criminal in Orfallen. I really need to pay more attention.
The dockmaster, closes his book after jotting down your names and and addresses Ushari's and Jayse's concerns, "Your vessel will be safe here. Guards patrol 24 hours a day. Welcome to Orfallen. Enjoy your stay. If you need to know more of the city before venturing out - stop by the customs building." He indicates the largish shack at the land-end of the dock.
With a quick nod to the guards, who nod deferentially to you since you are paying customers, they head back to the customs shack.