"You are missing a leg? How does one lose a leg in 72 hours?" Drusilla asks Blackrock as she comes up behind him her clothes nicely pressed and cleaned. Her gear was the same, The hair on her head though was cut short save for a long single braid of platinum blonde hair that went down to her waist.
Unlike the monk, Dru had spent her time working on spells and her book. She was always more of a bookworm than a warrior, but even then her master had taught Drusilla all the necessary chants and songs of Elven battle. These hymns and dances were the bread and butter of her training.
Even though a lot of her memory was still fractured Drusilla remembered these lessons, which were bore deep down within. The elven maiden was strangely seeing flashes of her past, vague though they were, they were more than she had seen in the past 50 or so years she had been here.
"Its a step up, elf, he didn't stick his face in this time?"
Tarn listened with professional interest to the talk about there being veins of silver in the cliffs of Saltmarsh. Such a town wasn't what people usually thought of when it came to dwarven enclaves, but such valuable ore was not to be overlooked. He had the feeling that he was being told this because he might have to be the 'political voice' that was required. Manistrad was not the kind of dwarf who had the patience for other people in general, let alone clean-shaven milk-drinkers. In a past life he would have jumped at such an opportunity. But ever since he found his ring, he had this strange urge to travel. To see the world. To meet interesting, new people, and (potentially) to kill them. Being tied down in politics was not something was not to his liking. So he nodded along, but remained uncommittable. Still, he was polite enough. If nothing else, the knowledge that he was being seen in such a way enlarged his already burgeoning ego.
Present
"Leave the lad be. So, he lost a leg. I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere." Tarn said. Unlike the monk, he was not so forgetful. He reached down to pat his trusty hammer, but to his surprise didn't feel it at his belt. Truth be told, he had spent his time drinking, laughing, telling stories and otherwise spending his time without a care. And, in what would have been to his great shame, he had left his hammer behind. As he felt around, his hammer (much larger than as it was before, though it didn't really dawn on him that it was so) formed in his hand. Pleased to know that he didn't forget it (for he mistook his new powers as being proof that he simply hung it behind his belt, of all places), he adjusted it so that he could grab it with greater ease. It was only then that he realized that it was too large to hang it from his belt. He stared at the hammer with utter confusion, not knowing how he had managed to walk all the way there with a hammer hanging from his belt that would have been dragging on the ground. Without figuring out any reason that made sense, he decided to just not worry about it. Such details were for the likes of elves, and wizards, and other such folk. So he rested it on his shoulder and said "Aye. And once he finds it it can be slapped back on. Until then, he looks like a right proper sailor he does." He finished, hoping that it made the monk feel better.
Badger murmurs in a low town cursing under his breath perhaps catching how big a jerk he was being, "Ras-a-frackin."
Badger looks behind the dwarf curious seeing no where for the hammer to hang. He mumbles under his breath, quietly, "Mustin be one of dem magic bags."
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He picks up and rings a small bell on the table next to him. He continues smiling at Blacklock like it's the most normal thing to be waited on by servants. After less than a minute, the silvered hair butler arrives, "yes, m'lord."
"Skerrin, would you please find this Captain Xendros for our friend here. Blacklock, are you staying for supper?"
Badger signs the commission. Badger looks to the ships supply of crossbows, boarding pikes, daggers, simple weapons and studded leather that the sailors would need making sure they aren't lacking. If Fireborn will let him he will take supply from the armory. Otherwise he will look to provision it.
Badger when a moment when the group is together. "I think we should set aside a hunerd gold for the new crew of the Ghost, fer sailing and keeping the ship waiting for us."
”Aye!” Tarn said, signing enthusiastically. ”Set it aside and we’ll make back ten times that amount before we even know it
Kwin bends to the document and signs with a delicate script.
"A hundred at least. We'll see how it goes, and how much danger they are exposed to."
Argyri enjoys the bit of fame, and does her best to keep up with Tarn at the tavern...before realizing she's made a terrible error and barely making it out to the street before losing her dinner.
Agryri sees Blacklock enter and goes over to muss his hair. "Whatcha been up to kid? Stayin' out of troub--" Her face drops, and then (after too long a pause) she says, "Uh, hey...you know some of the best pirates have peg legs, right? That or hooks for hands.
"But, um...Oh crap, Blacklock, I'm so sorry. How ARE you?"
When Argyri mentiones the peg leg Badger chimes in hoping to be a bit kinder this time. "Some great pirate hunters too. We got papers I think we can right call us privateers at this point."
In a couple of days, you gather at the docks and board the Sea Ghost together. The decks have been scrubbed of blood. The bodies removed. The hold empty of valuables, except a weeks worth of water and provisions. You meet Eliander supervising his guards with the most sailing experience preparing the ship. Your jolly boat from the House is tied to the aft. When you are ready, Fireborn wishes you good hunting and disembarks.
The distance from Saltmarsh to your destination is about ten miles as the crow flies. After three hours in the clear, easy weather, you approach a promontory. You see a well-traveled and relatively dry track leading from the coast. It disappears into the marshland interior.
When you weigh anchor within 40 feet of the promontory's northern coastline, you spot another track running up to the middle elevations of the promontory, where it disappears behind a clump of tall grasses and brightly flowering shrubs.
You also see, a 15-foot wide, 6-foot high sea cave entrance on the northeastern tip of the promontory.
"Might even be the lizards back door."
Drusilla had been studying and writing down new spells. In doing that she has amassed a nice library of her book. On deck, she watches the water and wonders what sort of fish dwell here near this cave.
"I wonder if we can fish here, with the lIzardfolks' permission. Maybe share in the haul? I suspect the water may have some decent potential."Drusilla says as she stands in her pilfered coat and holding onto her hilt and breathing in the air.
"As for the back door, does anyone have any scouting suggestions? Also who knows Draconic, and who is skilled at Diplomacy, the Lizardfolk are suspecting weapons delivery, we could work with that." Drusilla asks with a quizzical look.
”Calm down, boyo. I get that ye be, err, peeved. But talk of murdering wee ones? That’s beyond dishonorable.” He said, looking at the one legged monk aghast.
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Drusilla looked at the monk studying him and then back to the cave. "We have to talk to these Lizard Folk long enough to figure our why they need weapons. If it was to attack the town then we should definitely look into stopping them. If it is something that threatens them and they didn't trust the town enough for aid then supporting a more nefarious individual is an understandable conclusion. Should the latter prove to be true we must then assess this threat as one that could pose a threat to Saltmarsh. Then we assess our next course of action. After we have assessed the potential recourse this information poses to Saltmarsh and dealt with it, then you are free to 'Take care of' the Lizardfolk." Drusilla laid out in a simple matter-of-fact tone. It was the basic parameter of the mission. She just needed to remind the youth of the mission first, vengeance second.
"Well our mandate was watch, take note of the tribe's strength, and determine what their intensions are. Did they sign up to work with Xendros or is Xendros the one that was willin' to give them tools they can't get themselves. Don't worry though. They will likely assume we need killing for getting this close."
Argyri looks at Blacklock with utter horror. "Oh kiddo! You're in a bad way right now, aren't you?"
She puts her arm around him and gives him a hug, if he'll allow it.
"You know what sets me right, when I'm feeling foul? The adventures of Dyzziq the Dashing. Come on. You want to sit over here? I can read to you. It...I know it won't make everything alright again, but sometimes it brings me to another world...a better world, that makes me want to be more like her."
She reaches into the top of her rucksack, and pulls out a couple creased, worn copies of her penny dreadfuls.
"Drusilla is right. If we barge in and slaughter this tribe, we may set into motion larger threats. Other tribes in the swamp may become hostile to the town, and come in larger force. If we can ally with them in some way, they become a defense and early warning for the town on its southern border."
"If they are arming out of ambition, best we warn the town rather than 'disappear' in a misadventure here. If they are arming out of fear, perhaps there is reason Saltmarsh should be fearful too that we just are not yet aware of."
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As the kid leans into her, Argyri breathes a sigh of relief. She happily slides her back down the wall until she's sitting on the ground with him beside her.
She pulls out the latest installment, and then says, "No wait, you probably don't know about her encounter with Dastardly Doryn and the Swamp Cultists, right? Without that this won't make sense. Here, let me at least start with last month's story. See, she'd just swung down from a crystal chandelier to balance on an ice bridge the width of your hand, surrounded on all sides by a blazing fire, when she finally spotted just what she needed..."
It's clear that Argyri can't get enough of these tales of daring adventure...and as the story unwinds and the kid untenses a little, Argyri smiles.
At the end of the story, she says, "OK, more later. For now, the important thing. You just lost a lot. You should probably wait back here and take care of yourself while we..." The look in Blacklock's eyes cut her short.
"OK, I get it, you need to come. I believe in you, with or without two legs, but listen, we're doing this GENTLE, got it? For all we know, they're trying to defend themselves from evil Swamp Cultists, just like in the story. How bad would we feel about hurting them then, huh?
"So, count on me to look out for you on this one...and can I count on you to help us learn, but do our best to stay out of trouble?"
"I'm fine with checking out the cave first. Why don't we put down a bit back, over there. I think I'm the quietest of our bunch. Why don't I take point...with yall not too far behind?"a
Drusilla looked at the water and then spoke."I once caught a blue marline around here. It was a strange occurrence, and the other men on the boat were astonished. It was a clear day and the waters were a bit choppy. A lot of the fish here were biting, small, but biting. Then on my individual line came a huge tug, I rushed from the nets and grabbed the rod. Bracing myself I tugged and tugged, Bors' one of the other fishermen came over bracing behind me and helping, Together we pulled up a huge Marlin. Bright blue and shiny!"
She blinked and blushed a bit. "Sorry, I...nevermind. I like the stealth in part. I will be ready with spells should we need it"
"So what's the plan 'ere. If we go into the cave we are gonna be pickin I fight I reckon. Might do us some good to scout the landscape some, or give them some hours to see if they will make their way to us. As has been said we are in the ship of their trading allies."
"If we wait here for them to contact us, we have no way of knowing how long that will take. And for all we know, they may attack in force if we fail to use some sort of signal, like they had set up at the mansion. I think Blacklock is right; we could probably get our away boat into that sea cave. If that leads into their home, it may be the best way to make contact."
"Not proposing waiting days, but enough to see if we catch sight of them. I'd also want to get to shore run a circuit try to figure how big a camp it is, other entries, understand the numbers of our foes. Is it a war camp with young and eggs elsewhere. Our mandate was information and determine purpose. Walking in the back door and killing hostiles only proves they don't like strangers in their home. If that cave is their home."
It takes you a few hours to reposition the Sea Ghost where Argyri suggests taking advantage of the current of the Dunwater River and backsailing. During that time, you don't see any language-speaking beings, just birds and animals living on the coast.
You pull your Haunted House jolly boat from the trail of the Sea Ghost to its side. Its mast had already been secured down, so you clamber down the rope ladders into the boat and start rowing toward the sea cave.
After rowing for a bit, you enter the sea cave which is fifteen feet across at its widest point with a roof at most five feet above sea level. You glide into the cave softly bouncing against the sea cave walls as they bottleneck down to about eight feet wide. The short cave allows your eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Inside, the cave opens up to a high roof, extending twenty-five feet above the water. Most of the cave appears natural, except for a rough ledge that has been cut into the rock running along the southern edge, connecting with the adjacent cave. a flight of rough stone steps leads down into the water. A torch just out of line of sight illuminates these features for those without darkvision. The water is dark due to the lack of bright light.
You see a lizardfolk exit the pool climbing the rough stone steps and dash into corridor passed the torch beyond your line of sight.
Drusilla looks at the others and speaks softly."I can create some light? Also, who speaks Draconic and is Charismatic? I can speak Draconic, but I am not very Charismatic." Drusilla sits in the back of the boat making sure to go over her spells.
Drusilla will also point out the opening.
"There is a ledge there to the west and a passage to somewhere further in. We know it was used by somebody."
Perception
"We should pull up there, and go in. Strange that it is not guarded, but perhaps they just expect the hazards of the swamp itself to serve as their sentries."
Argyri easily manuevers the jolly boat with her paddle in the back in the realtively still water through the fronds, such that the middle of the boat grounds on to the stairs. Somebody hops out on to the stairs to hold the boat.
At this point four lizardfolk emerge from the corridor where the torch is. Three are armed with a club and spiked shield. The fourth wears scale mail armor and carries a morningstar and spike shield. This one calls out to you in Draconic. "Қаруларыңызды тастаңыз! Сен кімсің?"
Badger puts his hand up and out in a ready posture but clearly showing no weapons in his hands he was after all just tying a knot.
Badger answers back in draconic in a reassuring voice but with a good deal of strength behind his words showing no weakness hoping to forestall hostilities.
The lizardfolk in scale mail barks a reply, "Қаруды суға тастаңыз. Немесе кетіңіз." He points to your weapons, then to the water.
”Whats he saying?” Tarn asked, his hammer resting on his shoulder. Once translated he shook his head. [b]”They want to nick me hammer! Or steal it. Right unfriendly that is. Tell them that they should be more polite, the wee bastards.”[/b
[dice=Insight DC 13]1d20+1
The lizardfolk in scale mail barks a reply, "Қаруды суға тастаңыз. Немесе кетіңіз." He points to your weapons, then to the water.
** spoiler omitted **
Badger nods, In draconic he says, "My friends don't speak your tongue."
He answers Tarn, "They want us gone, or to disarm and throw our weapons in the water."
Badger motions to the knot he just tied and spends some time fussing with it like he is going to untie it waiting for word from the others.
He speaks draconic, "I guess you want us gone. Just gonna untie this. Oh wait no its pull this one."
[
Persuasion
The scale mail wearing lizardfolk replies to Kwin, "қаруларыңызды суға тастаңыз, біз сізді патшайымға дейін шығарып сала аламыз."
You notice more lizardfolk arrive beyond the first four down the tunnel passed the torch.
"Kinda daft, aren't they?" Tarn mused. "Dropping weapons wouldn't do much against us, would it? What're they gonna do, cut off Blacklock's arms? It's about the only way to disarm him." He did not even register how his joke was in poor taste.
"Қарулар? Біз сізді патшайымымызға дейін шығарып саламыз." The scale mail wearing Lizard folk replies to you. He gives Badger the side-eye, obviously as a result of saying that he didn't know about their home.
The scaleshield steps back and calls down the tunnel, "патшайымға айт, біз бөгде адамдарды әкелеміз. Жолды күзет." The dozen or so lizardfolk behind him slowly retreat down the tunnel. He backs up waiting for you to follow him.
"tell the queen that we bring outsiders. Guard the way."
He leads you deep into the lair along curving five foot wide corridors with floors, walls, and ceilings of rammed earth, more than 200 feet if try to keep track. You pass eight doors and several corridors, lizardfolk warriors standing guard in front of them.
You finally enter one of a double door into stone room. Two sets of three pillars flank a central area where two lizardfolk hatchlings are playing. At the far end of the room, a wooden throne stands on a low, stone dais. Carvings of reptiles decorate the throne, and glints of reflected light hint at the presence of inset gemstones.
The heads of several creatures hang on the walls, mounted on plaques of wood for display as trophies. Along the west wall, you see a giant insect, a different giant insect, a hippopotamus, a hobgoblin, and an aquatic humanoid. Along the east wall, you recognize a brown bear, lion, shark, giant frog, and another shark.
Upon the throne, you find a decorated lizardfolk surrounded by several decorated older lizardfolk. The queen quiets the throne room holding up her claw after everyone files in, you and your escort of over a dozen warriors. She speaks in Common, "Welcome. You may call me Othokent. I've heard you know where our weapons are, but I don't remember you. Why are you here?"
Argyri nods respectfully to the queen. "Greetings, Queen Othokent. I am Argyri and we are the Fantasmanauts. We do know where the weapons are, but we don't yet know why you need them. I trust you'll understand that to see if we can work together, we would need to understand what you need them for."