The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh - Swords and Wizardry

Game Master FabesMinis

Ghindor stands down from any offensive posture and tries to look calm. He stokes his beard and smiles politley.

The charmed man approaches his erstwhile comrade, who proceeds to stab him. Your new-found ally drops to the floor, lifeless.

16 to hit. 6 damage. Roll Initiative.

"No! How could you do that to your own man?" cries the cleric.

Init 1d6=4

Gabra's eyes widen in shock as she realises that Byggvir's spell has caused this needless death.

Init 1. You guys go first. Your charmed bloke lies dead. His former colleague is still very much alive and waving a sword.

"You are a killer and this is not a field of war."

Gabra tries to hurl a stone at the sword wielder, hoping to knock him unconscious rather than follow his own example.

Save v becoming fish food (1d20=20)

Byggvir shakes his head and begins weaving his sword in a defensive pattern. "I really had hoped this could end without bloodshed."

I assume, Gabra, that you meant to post an attack roll!

I assume, Gabra, that you meant to post an attack roll!

Errm. Yes, I did and IC is now down and I can't remember what it was. Want to wait for it to resurface so I can drag it out of the bowels or are you happy if I re-roll at home? Either way is equally likely to be rubbish.

Whichever is easier for you.

Sling shot (1d20=2, 1d4=4)

Re-rolled. Predicted correctly.

Gabra's stone skitters pathetically across the floor.

Oh dear. Anyone else going to try something?

Cunorix attempts a clumsy swing at the man.

Attack 1d20=5

The man is obviously a more experienced combatant than Cunorix and dodges the attack.

Ghindor?

I'll take Ghindor's turn. 15 vs AC hits. 7 damage.

"Thissa gone too far." the former pit fighter murmurs.

He strides up to the fray and with a mighty swing, smashes their foe into the floor.

"Hel has called many to her realm this day."

Byggvir looks sadly at the crumpled forms of the two humans and falls to the floor breathing heavily. The exertion of so much magical energy had left him exhausted. Breathing heavily he muttered under his breath Baldrs Draumar.

Cunorix bows his head as the elf recites the poem.

"That was wonderful, Byggvir ."

As Byggvir finishes speaking, Gabra extends her hands to him.

"You are not of this Middle World and yet you speak our sorrows as mortals. Truly the strands of fate have pulled us together."

Gavyn retches at the sight of the corpses, "Yeah, fine words." he mutters with sarcasm.

"Do not throw up here."

Gabra kneels beside the bodies and lays them out in the proper manner.

"Cunorix, will you help me?"

The cleric helps Gabra arrange the bodies.

The bodies are arranged as fittingly as you can under the circumstances.

What now for you? There are several exits to this room. Would you like a reminder?

Yes please. It makes sense to go through the door that our sword-wielding chum emerged from. Gabra might not see that though.

If this map is still accurate I would suggest going through the door in the south east corner.

That map is indeed correct :) Well done that elf.

Through that door then.

Here we go. First off, some more description of the main room.

Ten single beds (crude affairs - little more than thin mattresses on boards) stand with heads to the south wall, each with a small wooden locker at its foot. In the centre of the flagged floor is a long wooden trestle table on which there is a variety of cheap metal cutlery and earthenware crockery together with a large jug about half full of a light brown liquid. There are a dozen wooden stools round the table. Against the north wall are two casks, one larger than the other and both broached. The larger one is nearly full of a clear liquid, the smaller one about half full of a light brown liquid. A metal dipper hangs on the outside of the rim of the larger cask.

Next to the casks is a large wooden bin. Above it, hanging on hooks on the wall, are a large ham, a long string of sausages and a small side of meat. Next to the bin is what appears to be a crude, metal wood-fired stove standing in a fireplace. Above the stove, on a shelf, are some iron and earthenware cooking utensils, while next to it is a small pile of logs.

Near the foot of the stairs are two small, unbroached casks; next to them is a bolt of cloth.

If you go to investigate the doors to the south-east.

The door to your left i.e. if you're facing east. appears normal but the one ahead of you has a strong wooden bar across it, carried in brackets on the frame and the door itself. On the door has been written the single word 'DANGER' in the common tongue; this has been inscribed in large letters using chalk.

Here we go. First off, some more description of the main room.

Ten single beds (crude affairs - little more than thin mattresses on boards) stand with heads to the south wall, each with a small wooden locker at its foot. In the centre of the flagged floor is a long wooden trestle table on which there is a variety of cheap metal cutlery and earthenware crockery together with a large jug about half full of a light brown liquid. There are a dozen wooden stools round the table. Against the north wall are two casks, one larger than the other and both broached. The larger one is nearly full of a clear liquid, the smaller one about half full of a light brown liquid. A metal dipper hangs on the outside of the rim of the larger cask.

Next to the casks is a large wooden bin. Above it, hanging on hooks on the wall, are a large ham, a long string of sausages and a small side of meat. Next to the bin is what appears to be a crude, metal wood-fired stove standing in a fireplace. Above the stove, on a shelf, are some iron and earthenware cooking utensils, while next to it is a small pile of logs.

Near the foot of the stairs are two small, unbroached casks; next to them is a bolt of cloth.

If you go to investigate the doors to the south-east.

The door to your left i.e. if you're facing east. appears normal but the one ahead of you has a strong wooden bar across it, carried in brackets on the frame and the door itself. On the door has been written the single word 'DANGER' in the common tongue; this has been inscribed in large letters using chalk.

You each receive 7XP for the men you encountered.

"These men are smugglers I think. Perhaps they are pretending the house is haunted to keep people away."

Gabra looks at the beds. "There will be more of them. We should be careful."

"Aye. It seems the troubles of Saltmarsh are of a far more earthly nature."

Cunorix eyes the marked door.

"I wonder what's so dangerous?"

Ghindor examines several of the beds, by visual inspection. He looks for tell-tale signs of recent use, like indentations, unfolded sheets, personal belongings lying on or under the bed, etc.

"If smugglers fear it, we should also be cautious," points out Gabra unnecessarily.

While Ghindor hunts around the room, she listens hard, aware that the men they've just met may well have friends.

Just out of curiosity, did the voice we heard in the kitchen bellowing "Go away" sound like either of the men we just killed?

Without looking in anything, Ghindor can tell that the room is inhabited by men, several of them. There's a bit of a smell...

The voice at the top of the stairs sounded nothing like the two men. It was a bellowing old man.

"Where now?" wonders Gabra

"Let's prepare to greet them. Quick, let's hide under the staircase."

Ah, perhaps there is a misunderstanding. No-one is approaching. Gabra was referring to the spectral voice that told you to leave when you were at the top of the stairs to the wine-cellar.

Oops, nevermind then.

"Shall we open one of those doors?"

"We should probably avoid the one with the Danger sign on it for now and try the other door."

"Is anyone badly hurt? I have salves that will help speed healing."

"My pain is from my magicks I cast earlier. Sadly I don't believe salves can help ease the strain the body takes from bending reality to your will."

Byggvir is pure awesome. Everyone please take 50XP for roleplay.

Gabra touches Byggvyr's head and shakes her own sadly.

"Your burdens are not easily borne, Byggvyr of the Alfar. I do not have the skill to help you. Take care. Your power consumes you. I feel it."

Ghindor will examine things underneath the bed more closely, knowing how some secretive men keep their treasures well hidden. Does anything look good here€, to a would-be adventurer? Ghindor will willingly handle any orante crafted item, more out of admiration first, then greed. Greed comes later...

Apologies for delay. Assuming you investigate the room not marked "Danger".

This small room is clearly the quarters of a person senior to those who live in the 'barracks' main room, since the furnishing is less crude and the place is clean and tidy, as if cared for by a servant. There is a comfortable-looking bed in the northwest corner with a wooden locker at its foot. A small wooden table stands against the east wall, and beside it is a padded leather chair. On the table is a brass 9-branch candlestick and in it burn 3 candles, giving the room good
illumination. The candles, though not fresh, are far from spent.
Under the table is a small wooden box and a bullseye lantern with a moveable shutter over the lens; the lantern is unlit. On a shelf above the table are stacked three books. In the northeast corner is a wooden cupboard with the door closed.

Ghindor finds nothing of value amongst the personal effects of the men stationed in the main room.

Gabra looks hungrily at the books. She taught herself to read over a long winter and knows she often gets things wrong, but books are books. Rare and precious.

Gabra finds that the books are:

1) a volume of erotic poetry, fully illustrated

2) A naval almanac listing tide times for the area of coast containing Saltmarsh

3) A learned volume concerning mesmerism and its effects. Inside this book is a sheet of parchment carrying some simple words and phrases in Korrinish and their equivalent in some other language.

Ignoring the erotic poetry which contains a lot of words she doesn't understand, she concentrates her attention on the parchment sheet and the naval almanac.

Cautiously she sounds the words in her head, trying to understand their purpose. (The parchment. She's not reciting the tide times to herself at this point).

The Korrinish words are along the lines of "Stop." "Fight" "Leave" "Carry" etc.

Cunorix picks up the book that Gabra discards. He flips through it.

"My goodness!" he gasps. "Such filth!"

(and tucks it away when he thinks nobody is looking.)