The town of Sandpoint lies quiet under a blanket of clouds that obscure the starry night sky above. While the town sleeps, the waves roll in to Sandpoint's Harbor, a serene lullaby to lull the few remaining night owls to sleep. None are there to see the figure standing on the beach, watching the town, iridescent wings unfurled and fluttering in the ocean breeze. The tide laps at the figure's clawed feet as they sink into the sand. It quivers. Is it from the chill in the air? Or from the pleasure of the sand around its toes? No, nothing so simple. It quivers instead with anticipation, for it knows what fell tide approaches, and it is eager to begin.
San bustles through the twilight hours among the curios of his parent's shop. I guess everything's fine. It was just a bad feeling.
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Tao inherits a double legacy he neither asked for nor really deserves.
Phenotypically - in addition to being composed by blood from a heartily mixed Varisian heritage - features whose psycholigically archetypical characteristics seem to signify untrustworthiness compound the reputation his family has layed before him, a burden which he shoulders with inexpicably unbearable ease solely by dint of a happy-go-lucky attitude which seems to skip odd generations in his line, as if, by some deeper wisdom which has been described colloquially as possessing an “old soul” (an irony more than surface deep!), he has simply decided to pre-forgive any prejudice levied against him generated by first impressions of either his person or personage.
Spiritually, for reasons only the gods themselves are privy to, ancestral entities up to generations removed linger in the etheral space between this realm and the next, speaking to him from beyond many graves, some loud and boistrous, others inquisitive and insistent, yet others brooding and morose, such that, had he ever had a moment to himself since the first familial appartions had made their contact with him in his puberty, he might have developed the capacity for being at peace when all was still - instead, as it turns out, while others stress, our plucky hero actually thrives during moments of pure chaos, some regulatory intellectual function shaped by his double legacy evolving to prioritize and act on instinct with improvisational excellence.
The adventuring life, it seems, will choose him, and rather than rally against his destiny, Tao chooses to wear it like one of those loose-fitting multi-color jumpsuits his auntie Marin sews up, doting upon him out of mourning for her own son who died some 17 years ago, seeing in him the likeness of Laurel as well as an equal penchant for getting into and out of trouble.
Around town, Tao divides his time from caring for his extended family, helping out Abstaler Zantus at the 60 Church Street Cathedral , and making the rounds “recycling” found trinkets from the Junker’s Edge cliffside dump to turn around and pawn at Rings and Things to the proprietor Maver Kesk so that he can purchase the daily catch at Valdemar’s Fish Market from Turch Sterglus or procure spare parts from Bilivar Wheen of Wheen’s Wagons to bring back to the Heron “encampment” (a handful of wagons formed into a circle) just outside of Sandpoint across Tanner Bridge and down the road aways.
There he lives in his own wagon alongside those of his auntie Marin, his cousins Jesselle, Morosino, and Pike, and a few others who have more-or-less also been adopted into the clan.
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It's a sweltering summer morning when the man washes up in Sandpoint's harbor. The sun beats down upon the open streets, while the villagers skip from shadow to shadow, sticking close to the shade as they carry their wares to market. Cicadas drone, their constant presence accompanying the morning's work.
When the call for help rises, it can be heard all the way from the Fish Market. A body found on the beach, a man in dire shape. In typical Sandpoint fashion, baskets were set aside and stalls left unpacked as a swarm of locals came to both aid and gawk in equal measure. Before long, a small crew were carrying the mysterious man on a makeshift stretcher, rushing through the streets to reach the Cathedral. Clearly a man on borrowed time, from all that saw him.
The news crosses the small town in a flash, friends passing it to friends, who pass it to their families, who pass it on. In less than an hour, the whole town knows.
Tao, on your way in to town for the daily catch, you crossed paths with a red faced Turch Sterglus, who'd stopped for a moment to catch his breath before giving you the tale. Vildran, you'd been taking an early morning walk around the ancient foundations of Old Light when you'd been interrupted by the local elderly sage, Brodert Quink, who'd spent a long while adjusting his glasses before mentioning that something 'might be of interest to you'. Bastiano, you'd been setting up shop for the day at the Curious Goblin when Alma from across the road had stepped in to give you the news. Sidonie, Rynshinn had sauntered back into the shop with a loaf of bread and mentioned 'a bit of a buzz' off-handedly. And San, Hannah had leaned her head out the window out of her little apothecary and asked if you'd heard the news.
However you learned of it, the story was the same: A shipwrecked man, found clinging for his life to a fragment of a splinter of what must have once been a ship's hull. Dressed in waterlogged leathers and rusted scraps of chain and bearing an unfamiliar insignia on his breast. Even worse, he had been visibly in the late stages of some truly horrific illness. His flushed and bloated body had been scrawled with a terrible array of dark red-brown bruises in strange shapes. The fisherman who'd found him had thought him dead, but upon approaching had found the man's chest weakly rising and falling. With the man minutes from expiring, he'd been rushed to Father Abstalar Zantus.
It's certainly the most interesting thing that's happened in town in weeks, but for all the excitement in the chatter that sweeps the town, there's also a building trepidation. A man as afflicted as he, showing up out of nowhere, feels an ill omen. While many across the town turn back to their work for the day, some decide to make their way to the Cathedral. Some driven by curiosity, others by concern, yet others by a drive to offer their assistance. Whatever this man brings, Sandpoint will soon find out.
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Vildran leans on his staff, patiently listening as Brodert adjusts his glasses and builds up to this "point of interest." His feigned patience quickly turns to a frown when the news comes out.
Unless a runelord washed up on our shores, WHY would I be interested in that?
But he could see Brodert was going to give him no more on his typical subjects of interest. He finally lets out a long groan, stroking his beard rhythmically as Brodert goads him into looking into it.
Fiiiiiine Brodert. But could you put in a good word for me with the Runewatchers as a helpful citizen, in addition to brilliant arcanist?
He starts taking pained steps away from the Old Light, looking like someone who's just finished strenuous activity and isn't really moving with complete fluidity.
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Vildran arrives at the Cathedral a short walk later. Into the building enters the "elf" that many have seen around town (typically hovering over books on a table at an inn here or a cafe there). Unlike most elves his skin has a little bit of sunbake to it. Instead of long ears, he has two antennae portruding from the top of his forehead. Despite the heat, he wears a long, utilitarian cloak drawn tightly around his form, though the hood is thrown back.
Rather than address anyone at the Cathedral, he spends a minute leaning on his staff behind the back pews, surveying activity to see if he can assess the situation with minimal interaction. His unconscious scowl certainly wards off others from seeing what he needs.
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Of medium height and average weight, Tao was surprisingly strong for his size and stature, neither wiry nor bulky, skinny nor heavyset, rather, exceedingly ordinary, yet perhaps possessed of a preternatural sense of leverage. He had just gotten back from Junker's Edge on his morning scavenge not a half an hour ago.
"Is the man still alive?" he asked Turch Sterglus, snatching off into the morning from Valdemar’s Fish Market before either awaiting an answer or making his daily purchase for the family breakfast, and arriving via Festival Street in full sprint soonly to 60 Church Street "Abstaler!" he calls out, searching the Cathedral for the priest "I can lend my hand"
Running past the shrine to Shelyn, the loose-fitting multi-color jumpsuit his auntie had sewn him moist with sweat, Tao pushes through any gathered voyeurs - including the horned elf he had seen around town - and comes to kneel by the bloated, sick man, and grasping his Rosey Beads, whispers a prayer "May the beauty of life flow freely"
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San stops and talks to Hannah for a bit, gathering as many details as she knew. "Well that's something interesting... beats another day doing a whole lot of nothing at least. I guess I'll make my way over there."
In an unhurried way, San does, in fact, make his way to the cathedral. The slightly tall, even for an elf, man lets himself in and surveys the gathered townsfolk. Seeing Vildran, he heads over and gives him a friendly tap to get his attention. "Fancy seeing you here! Do you know anything besides 'man washed up on shore'? It seems to be the talk of the town but nobody knows anything substantial." He makes no verbal comment of the caravan dweller that's giving an inordinate amount of attention to the nearly dead man but his expression is one of mild disapproval. We're at the temple, let the priests handle it...
San is wearing comfortable clothes as today wasn't planned to be an exploration day. His shoulder length dirty blond hair is tied behind his head to keep it out of the way. He's as waifish as one might expect for an elf but has surprising muscle tone.
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Bastiano squeezes one last book on the shelf, completing his reorganization of the Biographies section at The Curious Goblin into alphabetized subsections based on how believable they were. Most of the bookstore’s selection of biographies are self-published, ghost-written memoirs of aristocrats whose minor political scandals and youthful “adventures” were far too tame to hold a reader’s interest without gross exaggeration, but there are a few worth reading and even rereading.
Then there are others that are clearly autobiographical but disguised (however thinly) as fiction. He glances at a slim volume he has pulled aside to read during his break, which is one of these: Steps Upon the Sanguine Stair, by Ailson Kindler. He picks up the novel - obviously based on Kindler’s own adventures as an agent of the Pathfinder Society - and starts back for the cool darkness of his room at the back of the shop when he hears the bell over the door jangle.
Sigh.
He adjusts his glasses and turns, smiling at the woman who has just come into the shop. “Good morning, Alma. How are you? How’s… business?” Idiot, don’t ask about Arika! She’ll tell you if she’s heard anything she wants you to know.
“What? Oh, yes yes, good morning, business is fine, but did you hear about the man they found washed up on the beach?”
Bastiano listens in fascination as the baker describes what she has heard of the man and his condition before bustling back to her own shop. He turns to Chask, his employer, who nods with a grin and makes a shoo-ing motion with his hands. “Go, go! You won’t be any use to me until you find out what’s going on anyway. Just make sure that when you come back, you can tell me something more than the same gossip everyone’s already heard!” The bookseller has to raise his voice for the last sentence, as his clerk is already out the door and jogging towards the Cathedral.
When Bastiano arrives, the others see a short, wiry, bespectacled young man in dark clothes. His skin is gray, his hair black, and the only hints of color anywhere are his eyes, which in the gloom of the cathedral appear to glow unnaturally, shedding a faint orange light even through the thick lenses of his glasses. It gives him the look of someone literally burning with curiosity as he peers through a gap in the crowd around the dying man.
Vildran's focus is broken when the colorfully dressed Tao pushes past him and deeper into the crowd. The elf watches him intently until he gets a tap on the shoulder.
Seeing Vildran, he heads over and gives him a friendly tap to get his attention. "Fancy seeing you here! Do you know anything besides 'man washed up on shore'? It seems to be the talk of the town but nobody knows anything substantial."
I know nothing yet. If he gets his way we may hear more soon. He gestures towards Tao by pointing with his staff.
Despite the suggestions of his tone, Vildran is always happy to let others do the social pushing.
He turns to San. And what of it has reached you?
Sandpoint Cathedral positively bustles with activity as each of you step out of the beating sun and into the cool shade of its entrance hall. The densest crowd has formed in the center of the room, where a pair of pews has been pushed together into a makeshift cradle. For those of you willing to stay back, there's little to be seen, as the throng of rubber-necking locals blocks off any view of the mysterious ailing man.
For Bastiano and Tao on the other hand, you get a very good view after you push through. The man lies draped across the pews, wet leathers encrusted with salt and sand. Just as the rumors told, his skin is a quilt of red-brown bruises, set in irregular patterns that give the appearance of some kind of scrawl. Some patches almost seem reminiscent of letters, but if they are, its not of any language you recognize. Kneeling next to the afflicted man is Father Abstalar Zantus, Sandpoint's high priest. Zantus has a hand over the man's forehead and is readying a spell when Tao steps in.
While Tao casts his own spell, Bastiano observes the odd insignia on the man's leathers. He recalls that that particular crest was once used by a mercenary organization that ran out of Magnimar and provided private security services. To the best of his knowledge, its been defunct for a few years.
Tao's heal sends waves of energy into the man, dramatically reducing his bloating but surprisingly doing nothing at all for his bruising. The surge of energy however does shock the man into wakefulness. Zantus offers a grateful nod to Tao as the man wakes.
His eyes crack open, encrusted with salt as they are. He peers with confusion at his surroundings before he manages to open his mouth and croak "Water." A Cathedral acolyte with a waterskin, nervous, accidentally splashes him in the face before managing to give him some water to drink. Once he's had his fill, he turns his head from side to side, obviously in great pain, and groans "Where am I? What day?" He looks to Tao, Bastiano, Zantus, or anyone else who might approach for answers.
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When she hears Ryn open the door, Sidonie steps up the pace of her garment inspections a little so she looks somewhat busy. While she's not worried about irritating Ryn, or getting fired since she's not an employee, Sidonie is walking a bit of a line staying with Ryn.
Sidonie has known Rynshinn all her life, but they aren't precisely relatives. Ryn is her Aunt Ro's partner, so also an 'aunt', but she isn't as relaxed about things in general as Ro is. Sidonie's mother Fran doesn't know she is in Sandpoint at all. She's supposedly staying with Ro and Ryn in Magnimar. Actually though, Ro is away on a journey by sea, and Ryn is in Sandpoint looking in on her business affairs in town. Sidonie had shown up uninvited at the shop door a few days back. Of course she had told Ryn the truth, mostly, about the circumstances of her arrival. The truth was also styled in a way to maximize as best she could Ryn's likelyhood of letting her stay for a while.
Sidonie had explained that she missed the summer trips she'd occasionally made the Sandpoint when she was younger (true), and that at the moment she needed to get away from Magnimar for a while due to unhappy events. She had broken up with her most recent boyfriend (true, and used as the lead to arouse Ryn's pity). Also, wouldn't it be nice for the two of them to have some time together even though Ro wasn't there. Ro does tend to suck up all the air in the room, so they could get to know each other better without things being centered on Ro (true, if somewhat exaggerated, and meant to flatter Ryn). Further, she could help Ryn with the Store/Guild's inventory, and the books, and whatever else it was that she did in running the place (Ehh, true, but to the minimal degree of what she had to do to comply with the offer she's just made). And anyway, the reason she didn't tell her parents she was going to Sandpoint was they wanted her to do some sort of stupid apprenticeship that she would have hated, and told her she couldn't go. (false, there was no apprenticeship and she didn't tell her parents because she didn't feel like it, out of spitefulness).
Ryn, who is quite honest, but can be compromised by those of the Brishen bloodline in her life, agreed to let Sidonie stay since she was already there anyway, and also that she wouldn't bring the subject up with Sidonie's parents.
So yes, Sidonie looks alive and reasonably busy at her task when Ryn gets back. When Ryn mentions the disturbance caused by some mostly dead man washing up on the beach and being take to the cathedral, Sidonie begs off finishing what she's doing and breakfast to go and see what's happening.
As Ryn goes on to the kitchen, Sidonie takes a moment to check herself in on of the mirrors. Fortunately Vernah's Fine Clothing is still also an operating clothing shop so mirrors are plentiful. The image looking back at Sidonie from the mirror bears a remarkable resemblance to both her Mother and her Aunt, which makes sense because they are identical twins. Her hair is voluminous and wavy, cut just short of shoulder length. It surrounds a face that is pretty in a cute, approachable way rather than striking in its beauty. She's of roughly average height with a nice, if slender, figure. She isn't wearing anything special today, trousers and a plain shirt under a sleeveless doublet, but the fabrics and quality of make implies lack of money isn't one of Sidonie's problems. Her father's contribution to Sidonie's appearance is noticeable in her dark brown hair and eyes. Renato is of Chelaxian ancestry.
Seeing that everything is as it should be, Sidonie rushes on out and hurries up to the cathedral. There's already a crowd, but Sidonie has sharp enough elbows to work her way through it. As she goes, Sidonie keeps her ears tuned for anything people might be saying about the situation. If she isn't satisfied with what she learns that way, she starts whispering questions to those around her to see what they know.
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Tao has no idea what day it is, just that there is a lightly chill breeze today, which had goose-pimpled his flesh on his morning scavenge.
He looks to Father Zantus ”Sandpoint” he says, keeping his words short and informative. He bites his tongue for a bit, and when he can’t stand it any longer, asks the logical next question ”Do you have a name?” washing up to the shore like a stray piece of driftwood!
San cocks an eyebrow as the teenager slips through the crowd, to fast to be properly recognized. Watching her allows him to notice the clerk from the book shop as well. Was that that girl staying at the old hero's house? And Bastiano too... Well, I'm here being nosy, can't fault them for doing the same. Replying to Vildran, "Just that some guy washed up on the beach... Hannah didn't know anything besides that. We're not going to learn more staying back here though."
San starts to gently push through the crowd of townsfolk trying to leave a path for his elven compatriot to follow if he chooses.
What day is it? How long was he floating out there?
“Um, it’s Oathday. The sixth of Erastus, 4723. What happened to leave you in the water? What day was it happened?”
As Sidonie pushes in through the crowd, she initially hears much of the same as she heard from Ryn. No one seems to know exactly where this man came from or how. When she gets to the front she sees exactly why, the man has only now finally awoken from his unconsciousness. San, pushing in after Sidonie, notes something the others missed: the strange bruises all over his body are reminiscent of one script in particular - the Ancient Thassilonian alphabet.
While San has a chance to ponder this, Tao and Bastiano address the waterlogged man's questions. A tenseness leaves his body when he hears the date and location. "Sandpoint... It felt like a lifetime I was drifting, and yet only three days." He gasps in pain "And this..." He looks down at himself, only now realizing the extent of his ailment. He's overwhelmed for a few moments by the horror of it before he visibly steels himself to tell his tale.
"My name. It's Martin, Martin Cardenal. I was hired as a guard on a merchant vessel heading up to the Kindred Coast. My job was personal protection for a woman, a priest of Cayden Cailean, who was traveling that way on some kind of more important business. She wouldn't say exactly what, but the way she kept reading and rereading that bloody letter..." He shifts to get more comfortable, only to aggravate his condition. He's left panting for a few moments as the pain subsides "Made me think something bad happened up north."
"We never made it. Just a few days in, in the middle of the night, these... things... rose up out of the water and onto the ship. Draped in seaweed and with white bulbous eyes. They killed anyone in their way, but I could tell they were hunting for something. Someone. When they spotted my priestess they all converged on us." His eyes are distant as he recalls the fight "I fended them off. Tried to, at least. She and some of the other passengers took a dinghy - there was an island on the horizon they thought they could get to." He closes his eyes "The creatures weren't interested in me. Stabbed me a few times with those rusty forks of theirs and left me for dead."
"Next thing I remember is the ship breaking up all around me. The water a murky brown. I held on as best I could as the waves tossed me. And then..."
"Sandpoint, somehow."
Vildran sighs and follows San, nudging members of the crowd aside with his staff. When any of them turn towards him to level a stern glance he just looks away and keeps going.
He settles at the other elf's side and takes a moment to inspect the overall condition of the man, and perhaps listen to his answers to questions asked so far.
He does perk up as the man describes the attack on his ship, and blurts out
Could you... mark the island on a map?
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As San looks over the man and his bruises, he is obviously getting more and more excited. Mumbling to himself out-loud, "Ancient Thassionian? Why would they show up here... and as bruises? Was he attacked with brands for his injuries to be shaped by letters?" Finally finished with his introspection, he seconds Vildran's question, "I'm also curious about what attacked you and left marks like those. Don't overly stress yourself but time may be of the essence."
Having finally made some connections, San decides to see if there are unfamiliar auras in the area.
It's quite a shocking story the man is telling. As she listens, Sidonie raises her hand to cover her mouth, now open because she's gone slack-jawed.
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Oathday, right!
Tao looks at Martin Cardenal, then to Father Zantus once more, his voice curious and yet solemn "Should someone investigate what is happening in the north?..." he wonders about the fate of the dinghy and the bloody letter, and did the seaweed creatures with white eyes capture them(?), or did she find what she was looking for(?).
Looking around, several faces among the crowd become familiar once again to him "I wouldn't go alone - too dangerous - but with a couple friends, I might be able to see what I can do!"
It was, after all, a good day to make an Oath!
Bastiano’s face creases in an uncertain frown. “Maybe we should be checking out the island first, though - the priestess and other passengers may be stranded. Could you point us to the island? And where exactly was your priestess heading along the Kindred Coast?”
Tao recalls that Sandpoint doesn't have a shrine to Cayden Cailean in its Cathedral, but that wandering priests of the god do occasionally pass through. He doesn't recall any one that did so recently. Meanwhile, San does detect the presence of magic.
Martin answers San's question first "I don't know what those creatures were, but I can tell you what they looked like. They got me a few times with their tridents and I must've been losing a lot of blood. I don't remember though-" He gingerly touches his bruised flesh, groaning when he does "-I didn't have this before the attack, nor do I remember anything biting me. I was in and out of consciousness while floating. Maybe it was some foul sea beast that gave me... whatever this is." His eyebrows furrow "What is this? I'll be alright, right uh, Father?"
Father Zantus gives Martin a reassuring nod before saying "It's not an affliction I've seen before, but by the grace of Desna you will make it through. I have encountered many a strange disease before and have been many times granted the magic to purge it. You can rest assured I will do the same for you."
Martin relaxes against the pew for a moment, relieved at the answer, before continuing "I believe I could mark the island on a map." His eyes go distant "I remember we had planned to sail past Argavist Isle during the night, it must have been one of the smaller ones before that." He gives a start when Bastiano speaks "The priestess and the others! If it's only been a few days, they may still be alright! And they'll need rescue." He tries to ease himself up but only ends up gasping in pain.
When San reveals what the bruises are, Vildran squints and inspects them more closely.
Maybe more of them will have these Ancient Thassilonian markings that we can study.
He doesn't know Tao very well, but given the opportunity and his fascinations he does pick up on the suggestion.
Yes, some of us should speed to the island and try to recover more o the victims! With any luck it's not too late.
And with any luck we can learn more about the source of their affliction.
In the back of his mind he knows that he will be compelled to follow that lead and struggle to focus directly on helping them.
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Tao smiles when Bastiano says "we"!
"Can't say I'm not nervous to encounter the very-same creatures described, but... one looks out for one's neighbor, right?" he turns to Father Zantus "Father" he addresses him formally now "Would you see to it that my Auntie is informed as to my temporary absence?"
He smiles again when Vildran says "us"!
"I hope that three days time - likely doubled to a week's - wouldn't be in vain to make our Search Party" he looks around the room "Well, that's three of us. Who else is in? We can go farther together!"
As the party musters, our upstart hero heads deeper into the church - arriving at an armory - and borrows some armor as well as the favored weapon of Shelyn - the brutally wicked "blood-paintbrush"! - sliding the breastplate to cover his vitals underneath his multi-colored jump-suit, strapping it in place with spare fabric ties. He gives the glaive a few practice swings "Balanced well, methinks" and prepares to head out.
"I'm ready!" taking the map graciously from Martin Cardenal with a smile "If you're friend is there, we'll find her" he makes a promise he may or may not be able to keep.
It should work out.
"I should return home to gather my things. Given that it's an island, I'm guessing we'll need to charter a craft to get us there. Unless we can beg some assistance from the temple? I hadn't considered venturing out by sea before so I'm not sure of our options here..."
Looking over the "runic" bruises one more time before giving Vildran an knowing nod. New research is becoming available. Whatever caused these injuries should prove interesting.
"I'm going!" Sidonie blurts out suddenly. The tale is creepy, but it's also exciting as mysteries often are, so Sidonie's impulsive excitement overtakes her common sense.
She has started thinking about the stories she's heard so many times about 17 years ago. Back then it all started with an odd event that seemed like nothing more. But, it was like a pebble kicked that causes a couple more stones to roll, which cause the gravel to shift, which finally sets the great boulder rolling. Nobody could see at the beginning what would be uncovered as a result, and how important it would all eventually turn out to be.
She can't not go. How could she live with herself if she just stayed home and missed what just might be about to happen?
Father Zantus looks at you all in surprise as one by one you volunteer for the dangerous task, then slowly nods "An excellent idea. Our town is likely the closest to respond and send rescue to these shipwrecked travelers, and time is of the essence. Meanwhile I will attempt to cure young Cardenal's ailment. Pursuing both magical and mundane solutions will likely get us there most quickly, but it may be a few days before he will be able to fight back to perfect health." He looks down at Martin "But I sense you have a strong spirit in you, I don't doubt you will heal quickly."
Zantus looks to Tao "Indeed Tao, I will send word on to your Aunt. And as for as for a boat..."
A weathered man in the crowd of onlookers steps up. Those of you who are locals recognize him as Art Thorn, a local fisherman. "If ye need a ship, I'm willin'. I don't have a fighting bone left in this body, but I can get you there and back at least... and I think we'd be doin' wrong by Erastil if we didn't go out and look for them. And I know that chain of islands well enough." Father Zantus smiles at the offer of good will, then says "I am glad we still have brave souls here in Sandpoint, willing to risk their lives for others. It warms my heart." He leans over and carefully places a wetted cloth over Martin's forehead. "Now, go, and you most of all." He looks to the crowd of onlookers "Young Cardenal will need his rest, and you will not help either him or yourselves by crowding him."
With that, the crowd begins to thin. Art waves to you and mentions where his sloop is berthed in the harbor, before heading off to prepare. And soon you're left in each others company, an impromptu group of friends and acquaintances, all united by this strange mission.
Vildran lingers to the end of the crowd's dispersal, stealing every glimpse he can get at the rune-bruises. Finally, he withdraws a scrap of paper and attempts to sketch them. He does not bother the man asking him to sit still and display them, he just makes due with his natural movements. Each time he looks back up from the paper it is an effort to relocate where he left off.
"San and Vildran, I know from the bookshop, but I don't think I've met either of you." He nods to Tao and Sidonie. "Bastiano Ravenpool. I've been working at The Curious Goblin for a couple of years, which in Sandpont means I'm still a newcomer. I hate to run out on Chask without any notice, but he knows I was thinking of moving on and I suppose now would be as good a time as any. How about you?"
Once the intruductions are finished, Bastiano glances down at the book in his hand and grimaces. "I think I probably need to run back to the shop to pack a few things. Not that I won't be bringing a book or three, but there are things I'm going to want to have along on this investigation that I didn't bring to the cathedral. I'll meet you all at Mr. Thorn's boat in a few minutes."
"Thank you Art, your willingness to help is appreciated. Does anyone need some time to prepare? I can meet at the docks in an hour, tops. Bastino, you've read a lot of books right? You ever read anything about these islands? "
San is obviously eager to embark on this journey. But you don't live this long without knowing planning is a good idea.
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Vildran finds the bruises oddly difficult to keep track of, even beyond their strange shapes and complex detail. Each time he looks back up from his paper, they almost seem like they're moved or reconfigured themselves. It's certainly an uncanny experience.
Once you're all ready, you find Art Thorn down at the docks, donning a wide brimmed hat and looking out into the sea. "Ye know, I'll be countin' on all you folks if we get some creepy crawlies makin' their way onto my sloop. Hope you're ready to defend an old man, he he." He climbs aboard the boat and starts adjusting the sails "Leave all this ta me. You'll just get in the way. And keep yer heads down."
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Sidonie replies to Bastiano's introduction cheerfully, although they have met before, if recently. She decides she'll let it slide, once.
"Name's Sidonie and I'm up from Magnimar visiting Rynshinn Povalli at Vernah's Fine Clothing. We're sort of relatives. Been here a few days. We have crossed paths", she reminds Bastiano. "I was in the bookshop the day after I arrived, browsing some. You gave me the quick tour."
After leaving the cathedral, Sidonie hustles back to collect her things before going to meet the ship. While Ryn can't really stop Sidonie from going, she doesn't want to test her either. She figures a mundane excuse for leaving given without slowing down much, and certainly not stopping to stand still will be best.
As soon as she's through the door, Sidonie starts grabbing her things and throwing them in her bag. She communicates with Ryn by shouting across the house as she moves about.
"So, it looks like the man they pulled out of the sea is going to live! He didn't have anything to say for himself that made sense! Maybe after he's had some time to recover Father Zantus said! I ran into that boy from the bookstore there, you know, Bastiano! He invited me to go camping with him and some of his friends! Gotta hurry, the boat they've hired to take them is leaving really soon! See you in a few days!"
The last couple of sentences are delivered as she's through the door and on her way to the docks to board the ship.
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San's parents are understanding as they see him packing a bag this time. "Finally off to save the world are you?" his mom asks. San looks a little hurt by the joke but replies, "I don't know about the world, but you know that guy that washed up on the beach? It turns out he may have some companions that are stranded on an island nearby that can be helped. I volunteered to help. I didn't learn to use this bow for nothing you know...". He is conveniently leaving out the Thasselonian connection. "I know dear, you've been cooped up here for a long time. Your father and I were wondering when you'd finally get the itch to venture away. We're both proud that you are willing to help strangers. Just be careful, and take this with you to remember us." She hands him a copper ring with a small design, apparently hand made a while ago, ready to be given at just this moment. "Be safe... and come back to us when you're ready. You'll always have a bed here." With a hug and a wave, San is out to door on his way to adventure.
He arrives back at the dock wearing simple leather armor over the same clothes he had on at the temple with a special armguard to protect his forearm. He's got a backpack loaded with some of the usual gear along with a whole slew of arrows. His short bow is strung and in hand with another quiver of arrows at his hip. There is a dagger in a sheath strapped to his chest and a small red bottle hanging next to it. "If anyone needs any restoratives, my friend Hannah's shop is not to far away. She's an herbalist that usually has some things around to sell."
Sidonie leaves a confused Ryn in her wake as she heads for the docks, while San's parents are left to anxiously worry about his upcoming adventure.
At the docks, Art hauls you all on board if any are still hesitating, then hastens his work on unmooring from the docks and pushing the sloop off into the bay before unfurling the sails. The breeze coming in from the ocean is firm, and with the sun low on the horizon the day's heat is finally beginning to ebb. Art hops from railing to railing like a man thirty years younger, ducking and weaving to get everything in order without striking his head against anything.
"We won't be makin' the best time, but it'll be good enough. You be relax for now young 'uns. I'll get us close 'fore I ask for more of ye to keep watch." Art speaks confidently, but you notice him eyeing the water off the sides of the both when he thinks you're not looking. Clearly his mind is on the story from earlier in the day.
As luck would have it however, the night is peaceful, and beyond the omnipresent rocking and sloshing of the small boat, you're not interrupted and are able to get a good night's sleep as Art takes you toward your destination.
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Vildran nervously writes a curt but detailed letter to his advisors at the university, explaining that he is to be away for an extended expedition. He doesn't expect they'll mind. Field research is why he's here, after all.
However, it's also a precaution in case the worst happens. Someone there should know where he last left for.
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The next morning after the voyage starts, Vildran focuses some of his energy into his staff. In case others ask, it has been imbued with fire magic.
He also prepares and immediately casts a spell that shrouds his body in the subtle glow of mystic armor. Though it can be covered up by his cloak.
He prepares a spell of command word for coercing others to his advantage at the right moment, and another of force barrage to show enemies that he can be a danger from afar.
Finally, he prepares those little magics that don't exhaust his energies: figment, frostbite, message, prestidigitation, telekinetic projectile, void warp. These he is grateful for as he always feels lethargy once the larger magics are used up. Sometimes even a headache sets in, but as he practices in the field more and more he thinks he's getting over this.
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Vildran generally only interacts with Art by warmly smiling back in gratitude. Truth be told though, the man wasn't overly interesting. The maybe-elf was anxious to reach their destination and start recording observations.
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Wanting to go for a luxury swim on more than one occasion, Tao allows the somber moment to restrain his desire while in Art's boat.
He notices when the old man warily eyes the water feigning confidence "Don't worry none, I say. We got the faith on our side, twice as many, and a little luck to boot!" clutching his "glaive".
He, too, warily looks at the water, feigning confidence...
San tries to relax and enjoy the journey but his excitement (anxiety?) keeps him fidgeting and pacing. At least he is able to sleep through the night when the time comes. On deck, he's always scanning the horizon in awe, as though he can't believe he's actually here.
"You can have the faith, Tao, as long as that weapon works too. Who knows what those... things were that attacked the priestess and her entourage." He creates a burst of fire in his hand that quickly dissipates, "I'll trust in my strength of arms over this pitiful bit of magic I can use."
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Sidonie does a very good job of looking relaxed and casual, as if she were on a pleasurable yacht cruise for some sightseeing. Mostly she sits or lounges in the more reasonably comfortable spots she can find. She watches the ocean, or any visible land, or the other people aboard, or Art as he manages the ship.
Actually though, she is usually quite alert, keeping a serious eye on her surroundings. The story the man for the sea told did make an impression on her. She certainly doesn't want to be caught by surprise if "things" suddenly emerge from the water to attack them.
Of course, it is difficult for Sidonie to stay quiet, and eventually everyone aboard is subject to her attempts to chat some. In Bastiano's and Tao's cases, she makes repeated attempts because they stand out to her in some way.
For Bastiano it's because she thinks he's cute. The cuteness certainly isn't due to considerable attractiveness or good looks, no no no. It's more the cuteness of a stray puppy, some awkwardness and a sense that he might need a friend, and that if he had one he would be very loyal. Also he seems interesting in a brainy, but not too brainy way. Such people can be good to have around to talk to.
For Tao it's because she feels a bit sorry for him. That awful one-piece suit thing he's wearing, it's not something a normal person would ever choose to wear. Sidonie suspects he's either a poor beggar, a little or a lot crazy, his family is a little or a lot crazy, or some mix of all three. In any case, she figures he could use a little kindness, and she has the time to spend so she can make his day a little brighter.
If the boredom of being on the ship gets too dire, Sidonie would eventually ask Art if she can help him. She's never been on a ship before and it is all very interesting.
Whether its your lack of priestesses on board or simply luck, the night and following morning pass without any foul creatures attempting to climb onto the sloop. And by noon, you start to see the beginnings of islands off in the distance. Art comments "The first one on the horizon you'll see is Rivenrake Isle, home 'a the Hollow Mountain, which is what's peekin' o'er the horizon. Stories say some heroes braved the isle a few years back and found it full of monsters and ancient Thassilonian nonsense. They busted all that right up, as ya should." He nods, utterly convinced there's no better place for ancient Thassilonian horrors and secrets both than the dust bin. "Our isle's a mite bit smaller."
Over the course of the afternoon, Art takes the sloop on a slow approach to a much much smaller island, unnamed according to him. At first it's north more than a smudge on the horizon, but before long you find yourselves sailing along its coast and looking out for any sign at all of the shipwrecked travelers. By the time you do, the sun is approaching the horizon.
Hauled up onto a small, sandy beach is a large dinghy, big enough to seat half a dozen if needed. The rest of the coastline of the island nearby is fairly rocky and in some cases quite steep, leaving the beach as an appealing spot to land if one were in a pinch. From a distance, there's no sign of any people or activity, even to shouts and hails from the sloop. It seems you'll need to head ashore if you want to discover what happened.
Art brings the sloop up closer to the beach before commenting "Awful rocky. Too rocky for my boat. It'll be a short swim for ye, and I'll be out here keepin' an eye out for trouble." He doffs his hat for a moment and waves it to waft a breeze into his face "Still, uh, if I'm nappin' when you get back you just give me a holler."
True to Art's words, it does indeed look like a short swim, but with the waves and the rocks on either side of the small beach, it may not be as easy as it looks.
Bastiano arrives at the dock out of breath from running, wearing leathers that look a little too big for him and carrying an overstuffed backpack, his sword slapping against his leg. Once on board, he seems to relax once he finds a seat on the deck out of the sun, in the shadow of the main sail, and pulls out his journal to make some notes.
I will never get tired of sailing on a ship that travels only across the water!
The slight, gray youth chats a little with Sidonie and though he finds it hard to get a word in edgewise, thinks he senses a kindred spirit with the same desperate curiosity he suffers from. She did make him worry that perhaps his accent was still thicker than he hoped after all the time he has spent practicing his Taldan since arriving in Sandpoint - at one point, he rattled off the scientific names for half a dozen species of sea creatures that could have been the ones that attacked the boat, and she acted like she had no idea what he was talking about.
Bastiano takes time to speak with Vildran and San during the journey as well, even braving the sun to walk with San on one of the elf’s anxious circuits around the deck. He only has a few minutes to talk with Tao before the oracle shucks his armor and jumps into the water.
As the situation is made clear that they will have to swim to shore, San stops to consider their options. Seeing no other way, he begins securing his backpack and armor to make sure nothing is lost in the transition of air to water. He'd hate to lose any arrows because he was lazy. As he's tending to his bag on deck, he sees Tao take a flying leap into the water! He stares in shock for a moment, watching the powerful strokes carry the man to shore. Swimming with that big jumpsuit... impressive!
Sidonie is content to wait and see how Tao's swim goes.
Bastiano takes time to speak with Vildran and San during the journey as well, even braving the sun to walk with San on one of the elf’s anxious circuits around the deck. He only has a few minutes to talk with Tao before the oracle shucks his armor and jumps into the water.
Vildran is happy to spend a little time speaking with another "outsider." He notes that Bastiano has some "interesting" features, but he knows how it feels to be bothered about such things, so he avoids it. Rather he takes an interest in Bastiano's expertise and inquires about his methods of empiricism.
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When they arrive, Vildran simply watches Tao, to see how he fairs.
Yes, very good. That small boat looks helpful. I'd better wait until it arrives so that I don't give you all another problem to deal with.
He smiles sheepishly.
Tao dives into the water as the rest of you watch. The surf tugs him back and forth, threatening to dash him against the rocky shoreline, but he manages to keep aimed at the sandy beach and soon pulls himself ashore. The coastline here prominently features a rocky rise just to the north (30 high) with high ledges populated by the nests of small sea birds. To the west and east, an ancient cobble trail runs along the rise, evidence that you aren't the first to step foot here. Whoever made the trail, they seem to be long departed, as its slowly being reclaimed by the wild and the wildlife. To the east, you can see stone posts marking what little is left of what must have once been a bridge hundreds of years ago.
Tao wastes no time upon arriving in flipping the dinghy over and starting to push it back into the water. However as he does so, he disturbs a pair of small crustacean-like creatures that had been starting to make a nest in the damp shade of the dinghy. They hiss and spit - these ornery creatures are ready to fight rather than flee!
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|||| ROUND 1 |||||
Tao
Vildran
Bastiano
Yellow Crustacean
Blue Crustacean
Sidonie
San
Vildran is suddenly very anxious at his constraints. The expanse between their boat and the shore suddenly seems very intimidating to him.
I cannot swim over there so fast! he blurts out.
He re-grips his staff and gesticulates an incantation while speaking loudly in draconic. At the end of it he spreads his arms wide, holding up the staff in his left hand.
Three arcane force shards cross the great distance and strike the crustaceans.
-
The yellow crustacean scrambles slowly over the sand, reaching Tao and trying to snap at his legs with a claw. It pushes past the faint guardian spirit and clamps its claw down on Tao's leg. The razored edges of the creature's claws draw a bit of blood.
The spot the crustacean grabbed immediately begins to flare with pain and a numbing weakness begins to spread through Tao's body. The second crustacean swims through the water instead of braving the sands. It pulls itself onto the shore and snaps at Tao's other ungrabbed ankle. This little creature lands a much more fierce snap of its claws but doesn't have enough time to try to latch on.
Though exposed to the creatures' venom, Tao holds firm this time and his condition does not worsen.
|||| ROUND 2 |||||
Sidonie
San
Tao (8 dmg, grabbed, ? Poison Stage 1, enfeebled 1)
Vildran
Bastiano
Yellow Crustacean (5 dmg)
Blue Crustacean (6 dmg)
Vildran is a little (naively) surprised when the crabs react aggressively and swarm Tao. He feels dreadfully foolish, certain that they're reacting to his remote attack. He had hoped it would rather scare them off and is now cursing his own judgement.
But, what has been started must be finished.
Hold on Tao! he mutters to himself while focusing on his staff and then repeating the sequence.
Watching from the ship, Sidonie is shocked by the maniacal behavior of the crabs.
"Damn..." she says.
Turning about to looks at who's still on the ship, She asks if anyone is a decent swimmer.
"We should go help, but I'm not really a swimmer. I was hoping to use that little boat."