As Castinuus and Aaftaab draw near, a gaunt, sunburned, and bearded man clambers from the vessel with a wild-eyed, fitful ranting, picking sand fleas from his ragged clothes, “He tried to take the water’s gift from our veins!” He stops, leans back and gives you all a long look, then spits on his left hand, wipes it off on his trousers, pulls out a rag and tries to clean the spit from his trousers.
He looks back up at you and curtsies, "And now our saviours have come! Huzzar! Huzzar! Lackadee, my boys, my waifs! Heroes to roll over in the waves for us! Oh, I hope you are clean and square-jawed. Have you soft skin?"
The man smiles and shakes his head at Robyyn, "Oh, don't flirt with me. Now is not the time. He nursed that old, dead god like a newborn babe! Will you become a new god yourself? Maybe or possibly? Oh, you saviours are all the same: long tongues!"
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"Who tried to take what from you? Old man you are making no sense. Are you in danger here? Are we? Or are you just a sun-addled drooling fool, sent by the Gods to waste my time?"
Castinus kicks the boat's hull in frustration. He's hot and tired, and this impoverished seaside slum is a massive disappointment. He had been hoping for a pretty barmaid and a cool beer in the shade admiring the seafront. Or, a fight. Or all three. All the party have for their efforts so far is one measly artifact and some cock and bull story of a seaborne kidnap.
If the mad oldster does not say something interesting, he will curse loudly, and go to confront the followers of Asmodeus. Say what you like of the Church of Prince of Darkness, at least they should prove organised and coherent.
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The monk continues to walk, arm in arm, with Mist- as the others seek out those who have appeared and disappeared. Hearing the same movement, Ischell joins Castinus alongside the strange boat.
"Dude, you really should, like, take it easy man. We are in no rush here. Now, tell me again. What does a dude like you need a hero for?"
Castinus kicks the boat and the contents rattle. Peering inside, he sees all manner of junk filling the boat, although the boat itself appears seaworthy.
The crazy man continues to prattle, ”Sent by the gods were you? Oh yes, with your lovely hair: I should have known. And soon you’ll be gods yourselves now doubt. Come to save us from the darkness in the deep so that hordes of angels can sing songs about your lovely, delicate ankles.”
He spits on the ground, ”Ankles!”
A few superficial wounds close on the man’s knuckles but otherwise the magic has little obvious effect. He sighs. Then he turns to Castinus and leans against his boat, ”What do you fancy, my fancy lad? A fella’s got to eat and you have to as well no doubt. Do you eat? Show me your teeth?”
At this point, the woman has drawn near, ”You leave Bartock alone. Get to the lighthouse, if you know what’s good for you. The temple is closed.”
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Castinus veritably growls at the old man, brushing him away as the woman addresses them; "Madam - y name is Castinus, a visitor from Absalom. I am no follower of the Prince of Darkness, but I know his church as upholders of order, and the rule of law. This hamlet seems far from either. Where are the villagers? Why is the town in such disorder? And what is the threat against which we should seek refuge in the lighthouse? Please - be straight with us. We would be of assistance to the town, perhaps?"
"Oh, yes, Asmodeus defends all of Cheliax." the woman pulls a symbol of Asmodeus from her pocket.
"It is good that you have been sent to aid us. The sea is a jealous mother: pushing and pulling like the tides." She gestures toward the lighthouse, "Come, you have much to learn, as do we all."
As you have talked the sea winds have increased and a squall threatens to turn into a storm. You notice that the ships are starting to come in. You also see a few hidden folk emerge from decrepit hovels and scuttle toward the lighthouse. Everyone is making for the lighthouse as the light fades.
Aaftaab notices the constable from earlier is helping people across the slick rocks beneath the lighthouse.
The woman heads toward the lighthouse, waving for you to come, "You won't be safe out here. Not when night falls."
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Castinus shrugs his shoulders, looks at the others, and assuming the consensus is to proceed to the lighthouse, will head that way. Along the route he will engage the priestess in discussion, seeking answers to the questions he asked before.
"Where are the villagers? Why is the town in such disorder? And what is the threat against which we should seek refuge in the lighthouse? "
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"You could have, just like, said so... No need to be so pushy!"
Ischell calmly turns and heads to the lighthouse with the woman and his companions- taking up the rear guard as the others follow.
"There aren't many places where I am not safe, but there is no reason to, like, take unnecessary risks" he says outloud, to no one in particular.
Castinus shrugs his shoulders, looks at the others, and assuming the consensus is to proceed to the lighthouse, will head that way. Along the route he will engage the priestess in discussion, seeking answers to the questions he asked before.
"Where are the villagers? Why is the town in such disorder? And what is the threat against which we should seek refuge in the lighthouse? "
"We are people of the sea, we have always belonged to it. But now, too many of us are taken into her depths. These disappearances, they are difficult to understand." She breaks her stride a second as she takes you in, "Who are you? Why are you here?"
With or without your help everyone manages to scramble to the lighthouse.
You notice that the locals have a particular countenance - sallow skin, widow's peaks, green eyes, slender limbs - that make you seem even more out-of-place in this particualr village.
Aaftaab sees no stragglers. The waters are dark and choppy with the storm so it is not possible to see beneath the waves.
The dark clouds of the storm bring a premature evening, and as the sun sets over the rising western waters, nervous glances usher the last of the villagers into the safety of the lighthouse, and all ascend the rusty iron stairs to the haven above.
Tightly packed into the cramped quarters of the lighthouse are all of the villagers who remain in Blackcove. Numbering less than forty, the bedraggled assembly exudes anxiety and dismay. Their kinship is obvious, and most display the same waxy and weathered skin, thinning hair that recedes sharply to either side of a pronounced widow’s peak, and disarmingly dark purple eyes. Phlegmatic coughs echo throughout the damp, crowded room and it seems as if the community members’ constitutions have grown weak because of degeneration following too many years of isolation.
You are the last to ascend the stairs and when you arrive a hush falls over the room; the only sounds are a wet, labored breathing, the increasingly hard rain, and the pounding surf below.
With a nervous laugh, the lighthouse keeper breaks the silence: “Well, it looks like Adler found help, and here’s hoping they’ll be our salvation. I suppose we should tell them about our troubles.”
Villagers glance about nervously, waiting for someone to speak...
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The hulking human hangs out at the door, ensuring that each of his companions and villagers safely ascends into the lighthouse. Once the last of those visible have returned, including Aaftab, he steps into the space and helps close and secure the door. His eyes momentarily flash white, as he ensures that those present don't have any aura of evil
"That would be, like, preferrable. Ya Know?" he responds to the lighthouse keeper."[/b]
The hulking human hangs out at the door, ensuring that each of his companions and villagers safely ascends into the lighthouse. Once the last of those visible have returned, including Aaftab, he steps into the space and helps close and secure the door. His eyes momentarily flash white, as he ensures that those present don't have any aura of evil
Detect Evil (Sp): At will, a paladin can use detect evil, as the spell. A paladin can, as a move action, concentrate on a single item or individual within 60 feet and determine if it is evil, learning the strength of its aura as if having studied it for 3 rounds. While focusing on one individual or object, the paladin does not detect evil in any other object or individual within range.
"That would be, like, preferrable. Ya Know?" he responds to the lighthouse keeper."[/b]
An old man pipes up, his voice wheezing, "It's that fool Gerlach. He crossed the waters to Nal-Kashel, started poking around, I suppose..." his voice fades away with a final wheeze.
There is a tension in the air. The locals are clearly uncertain and not confident talking to outsiders.
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"Old man - please. We are tired; we have traveled far to be here. We are concerned; we have been ushered into a confined space in deference to an unspecified threat. And we are a group inclined to occasional, I dare say even casual violence. We may well be minded to aid you, all of you, if it is in our power. But this secrecy, this reluctance to ask for aid - it is frustrating and unbecoming. All I ask is you describe these troubles that prevail upon you, honestly and in full. Choose your words carefully - one amongst us is skilled in the detection of falsehoods. Tell us of Adler, and Gerlach, of Nal-Kashel, and more. Tell us, or we may take our leave and let your secrecy and misplaced pride be your sole protection in your peril."
Castinus stares long and hard at the assembled group, almost daring these sorry folk to hold any truth back.
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"Mr Fulvio here speaks the truth, dudes. Whether you like it or not, all of us are here now. Aint no going back from that, now is there."
Ischell spends four minutes doing magic-eye staring around the room.
Once the villagers begin talking, the words spill out in a rush, as though a dam has burst.
"Gerlach was curious. He broke an ancient taboo and visited the island frequently. Since the attacks started, a few weeks ago, nobody has seen Gerlach."
"Yes, he told me that the wedding rock caused a sickness of some kind. I told him that was rubbish. Why, Lucille and I conceived our firstborn their and we always knew what that meant: blessings of the sea must return to the waves, after all."
"Sorry, sorry, you are strangers, you will not know all of our ways. We people of Blackcove are children of ancient Azlant. Many of us are born with the sea's gift. We bear gills and can frolic in the seas as freely as the surface world. Gerlach was such a one, a gillman, and he was a talented weaver of magics. He brewed potions to aid his fellow fishermen."
"Yes, it is true. He cured my gout with one of his concoctions."
"Aye, but those trips to Nal-Kashel changed him. He was crazed! He told me he was setting things right with his people. The islands are Azlanti, and full of dark magic. That's where the attacks come from."
"You can't blame any gillmen for this, they have been the first to disappear, the first to suffer. Gerlach has probably been taken or forced to flee, like the rest of them."
"No, I have seen our Trimpin watching from the sea, far out, during two attacks. Gerlach has been manipulating our people. Changing them."
"The only way to be sure is to break the taboo. You can do that, you outsiders. You can explore the island, find Gerlach, find out what is happening. Why our people are disappearing into the waves, into the mists, with nary a trace."
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The human listens to the bickering, before turning to Reginald. "Can you make sense of all of this. You seem more sane than the most of them..."
Ischell takes a moment before adding his voice to the heated discussion. "Would one of you, like, be willing to tell us what the dang taboo actually is?"
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"Oh yes, I'm very sane," Reginald answers proudly. "They seem to want us to go to an island and find this Gerlach and ask him some questions about what is happening and who is doing this to them and how to stop it and why must they suffer like this." He puts his hands in his pockets and beams. "Simple and straightforward, really."
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Mist seems to slump when the villiagers reveal themselves to be Gillman since she won’t be able to mimic their forms.
"Many of us are born with the sea's gift. We bear gills and can frolic in the seas as freely as the surface world. Gerlach was such a one, a gillman, and he was a talented weaver of magics."
Robyyn begins studying the gathered villagers, trying to see if he can identify gills on any of their necks.
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Aaftaab listens.
“I have to admit that I do not understand everything that was said to you! But I understand that the community is in need of a little bit of luck! And I will be supportive so that they find out what is happening!“
He looks at his companions.
“But just to be sure, we are actually here for some other reason, right?! Is this in anyway connected?!“