Akavar Whisperquill's page

Neth 14th, 4711

Left Port Peril today. 9 sailors missing, they either decided to stay in town, or were "recruited" by rival crews.

Passed a noteworthy ship on the way out: gold-hulled "Bitter Steel", the vessel of the Golden Company, some mercenaries exiled from Cheliax, as they were among the enemies of House Thrune during the war.

Neth 21st, 4711

The House of Stolen Kisses

We docked in Quent today. It's a beautiful city, around fifteen thousand inhabitants. Navigating the approach was easier than at Port Peril, I can see why it has the reputation of being the nicest natural port in the Shackles.

Finding the House of Stolen Kisses was an easy task. We were led inside this place of class and refinement and met with the madam, Dirdreane, a good friend of Tessa's. She agreed to give us information, but for a price: she gave us the task of finding a missing ship of her clergy. The Lady's Sting went missing some time ago. It was supposed to be coming to Quent from Mediogalti Island, and there was aboard a golden relic of Calistria's cult: a statue named Vespal Golden. The Lady's Sting had apparently fallen prey to a crew of wreckers, pirates that specialize in luring their marks into reefs, only to later take advantage of their stranded victims. There were many such crews in the Shackles, though, and Dirdreane's divinations hadn't revealed the location of the missing ship, nor the precise identity of its attackers. Dirdreane suggested that we question the cultists of Norgorber regarding the matter, which was fortuitous: we were planning on visiting them next anyway.

Before leaving the establishment we, of course, paid our respects to the clergy and "worshipped" Calistria in the company of several of the most highly-recommended employees. I must say that the reputation of the House of Stolen Kisses appears to be well-deserved.

Neth 26th, 4711

We arrived at Beachcomber Isle today: it (like Bag Island in general) is the domain of the majority of the Halflings of the Shackles, most of them ex-slaves from Cheliax. Rosie had been hoping to come here for quite some time, but she was in for some disappointment: the town isn't much to look at, and its inhabitants are boorish thugs for the most part.

A bit of subtle investigation led us to a warehouse in the Lurker District. Inside, a halfling wearing servant's clothes and a cherub mask welcomed us. After a brief discussion, it became clear that he could answer our most important questions, but would demand as payment some secrets of our own.

In exchange for the location of the Lady's Sting, I told him the story of the unfortunate chelaxian sailors of the Infernus, those who had been shipwrecked on that mosquito-infested island we had been on earlier. After hearing that tale, our host (who asked to be referred to as "Slip") revealed that the Lady's Sting had last been seen east of Rampore Island and had likely fallen prey to the group of wreckers led by the half-orc wizard Varkala.

Regarding our other query, the one regarding a chelaxian spy ring (Tessa's original request), Slip asked us to obtain some information for him: so we were sent on a third mission. We were to investigate the disappearance of the Brine Banshee, rumored to be one of the fastest ships in the Shackles due to some mysterious magic that had been cast on it. We were to find the ship, its fate and/or the secrets of its enchantment. All that we knew about it is that it had been scheduled to take part in the upcoming Free Captains' regatta, and that it had disappeared west of Shark Island after leaving Ollo, a port where many werewolves dwell.

Neth 29th, 4711

Three days of sailing brought us to Rampore Island, where we hoped to find the Lady's Sting, or what remained of it. During the trip, I kept a mental eye on the state of my crew, as usual, via my magical thought-reading spells. Strangely, one of them, a fellow elf, seemed aware of my probing, despite my extreme discretion in the matter. I learned that this individual, named Xaveak Silentread, is half-forest elf and half-aquatic elf who joined our crew in Senghor after having grown bored of the dull life of a mere sailor. In fact, he admitted that he was eagerly anticipating the next battle.

Today, we came upon a Rahadoumi vessel near Rampore Island: its name appeared to be "The Shining Star". As we approached, the sailors seemed to notice us and scrambled madly to escape. Yet I was not so easily fooled. Knowing that we were entering the hunting territory of a band of wreckers, I had instructed my crew to be extra-careful and to trust their eyes less than usual, and their other senses more. Examining the far-away ship closely with my spyglass, I noted that the way the sailors handled the sails was all wrong, and that the ship's waterline was much too high. I smirked as I passed the spyglass to my companions; Varnas and Granam confirmed my suspicions: this was but an illusion...

Varnas used his power of Levitation to look at our surroundings from a high vantage point: he confirmed that what looked like a Rahadoumi ship was but a two-dimensional illusion. He saw no signs of another ship, or of enemies on the nearby island, though. Not wanting to risk damaging the True Wind, I went on a rowboat with Varnas, Ursus, Granam, Sandara and our designated rower, Xaveak. We meant to take a closer look at the situation...

Tessa's mission

In the evening, we went to the district where the richest inhabitants of Port Peril reside, a place both physically and metaphorically above the rest of the city. Even using a map of the city, it was surprisingly difficult to find a place of ascension toward this area. On the way, we discussed about Tessa Fairwind, who she was and what to expect from her. She was the captain of a ship called the Luck of the Draw, she was rumored to be extremely lucky, and to be the next in line to be named Hurricane King (Queen?). Despite her humble origins as the daughter of a priestess/prostitute of Calistria, she had gained great renown in the Shackles thanks in part to her friendly demeanor.

Tessa's house wasn't as large or extravagant as one might have expected for the second most powerful Pirate Lord in the Shackles, but it was nice enough.

Inside, a servant led us from the lobby into a boudoir, and after a short wait, our host came to greet us. It was a true pleasure to meet her: a beautiful young half-elf with crimson hair, Tessa was so striking that Sandara seemed quite plain in comparison. She was playing heavily the seduction card, smiling and touching us quite frequently.

It worked...

We began by discussing the day's most unusual event, the attack of the undead crew. She gave us a bit more information regarding Raugsmauda, who had been a human wizard who came to the Shackles around 200 or 300 years ago. She had been at war with a rival spellcaster, and she won her battle, but nonetheless interred herself after her victory. Some time later, someone had unearthed her. She had later relocated to her current island. She ruled there now, protected by many undead minions and a cleric of Lamashtu. It was definitely a place to avoid, especially around the full moon.

The discussion then turned toward the Hurricane King. Tessa expressed her opinion that his hold on the Shackles was weakening, hinting that his reign would end soon. I remained neutral in this discussion, but Varnas asked her if she sought to replace Kerdak. Tessa said that she had no interest in the role, as she was too much of a free spirit. Either she was truthful, or her lie was very convincing, because I was led to believe her.

It is only later that Tessa revealed why she had invited us: she needed someone to investigate the rumors of an upcoming massive chelaxian attack on the Shackles. Since I was the newest Free Captain, she surmised that I was still not well-known, so that I could investigate the matter more discreetly than she would. This tale of a chelaxian invasion reminded me of what Cesare had told us when we met him in Rickety Squib; but upon further reflection and discussion, I became more convinced that Cesare had in fact tried to fool us by planting some seeds of misinformation: there was likely no plan from Cheliax to launch an attack against Korvosa. The young man had probably just tried to spread confusing rumors that would create an artificial sense of safety in the Shackles, as we thought that Cheliax was focusing its army toward the north rather than toward the south.

Tessa had met Cesare when he'd come to Port Peril to try and sway the Hurricane King. I saw that she didn't like him, yet there's something more she knew or felt about him that she didn't tell us.

Always the most pragmatic among us, Granam asked Tessa how much we'd get paid for the mission she proposed, and she described the reward... Which is pretty decent. Truth be told, though, the notion of her personal gratitude was the only reward I needed at that point. I think it was the same for most of my comrades. We were just too polite to say it out loud.

Tessa gave us two leads to follow: we might learn more information at the House of Stolen Kisses, the temple of Calistria in her home base of Quent. The place is rumored to be the best brothel in all of the Shackles. We received a note to show to Dindriane, the high priestess, our allegiance to her good friend Tessa.

That sounded like a good start to the mission...

The second lead was definitely less appealing: we were to visit another temple, but that one belonging to the cult of Norgorber, the god of secrets, poisons, assassinations and other such unpleasant things. That one was located on Beachcomber Isle. The priests of Norgorber are notoriously unpleasant and dangerous scum, but they do tend to keep up-to-date with the latest gossip, so I could see the interest in trying to negotiate for some of their information.

Once the mission had been described, Tessa gifted us with a map of the Shackles that was enchanted to show the current weather patterns. Very nifty.

She also discussed the subject of Varnas's mother, whom she had known before her untimely death at the hands of the Chelaxian navy.

We then parted ways with our new acquaintance, despite our reluctance to leave her home ... and her company.

The skeleton crew

A strange derelict sailed into Port Peril's harbor this morning. It stopped against the docks not far from where we were located, and a number of skeletal beings emerged from its rotten and darkened mass. Along with several visitors and inhabitants of the city alike, we drew our weapons and defended the lives of the living against this unexpected attack. Among the crowd was Tsadok the half-orc, who fought mightily. Fortunately, the undead proved no match for us, and soon we found ourselves on the deck of the enemy ship.

An unfortunate man, emaciated, pale, sweating and delirious, was tied to the mast. Ursus immediately recognized the symptoms of ghoul fever in him.

"Raugsmauda sends her regards," croaked the wretch. "She tells the Hurricane King that the next time he sends mercenaries to kill her, she'll get his f*!%ing head."

Tsadok growled and ended the prisoner's torment.

Later, we discussed this event among ourselves. Raugsmauda is a well-known lich who lives on a volcanic island southwest of Motaku Isle. She is considered a plague upon the entire region of the Shackles. Legend says that she goes on a foray in the neighbouring area once a month, when the moon is full, aboard her black ship, seeking the souls of those unlucky enough to cross her path. We were in fact fortunate to avoid such a fate when we ventured to Mancatcher Cove, not so long ago!

It is rumored that the Hurricane King has already sent 3 expeditions to try to exterminate the lich. The last one, sent two months ago, was led by a man named Boros, and it was apparently unsuccessful, like those before. Thinking about Kerdak Bonefist's withered, undead hand, we wondered if he had previously made a deal with this very lich, a deal which he now regretted...

A big meal

We had lunch on the main shore at a place called La Carconte. The owner was a short and plump woman of advanced years with a Nidalese accent. We sat at one of the five or six tables, not far from the place's big hearth, and were told that the restaurant's meat comes from a place called "F&M's Exotic Meats" (so named after its owners, Festerscale the kobold and Myzra the half-elf). These two have apparently devised a way to keep meat fresh longer by storing it in a magically cold location. Of course, the nature of the meat itself can sometimes be considered... dubious. Coincidentally, Tsadok was yet again present in the vicinity; he was apparently a usual patron here.

Catching, around the corner of the door leading to the kitchen, a glimpse of a familiar ample-bellied figure who had been very secretive and mysterious lately, I called out loudly: "Ambrose, you old sea dog, so this is where you've been hiding!?"

The rotund cook cringed at my vociferous greeting. He sheepishly joined us in the main room and explained that he'd been discreetly hiding here since we docked. Apparently, Captain Harrigan had come here two or three days ago to try and coerce the owner of the place into revealing Ambrose's whereabouts... for it turned out that she was his mother! Thankfully, Tsadok's presence had prevented Harrigan from exerting too much physical force in his questioning.

We had gotten confirmation that the Wormwood had already left Port Peril by now, mercifully, so Harrigan wasn't an immediate threat anymore. Chatting with Ambrose's mother as we ate the daunting amount of meat she served us, I got confirmation that Ambrose had become something like Harrigan's personal slave due to a bet he had made and lost because of his drinking problem.

Neth 7th, 4711

An old acquaintance

We've spent some time on the main shore today, selling part of our accumulated treasure and getting magically restored at the temple of Besmara. At last, we are all free of the coral curse that has afflicted us since we fought Krelloort.

I spent the evening at the Riptide Alehouse with my usual comrades, Granam, Ursus, Varnas, as well as Sandara. The place was full and noisy. At some point, Varnas nudged me and pointed toward a short-haired woman with an eye patch. It took but a moment for me to recognize her as Caulky Tarroon, the former cabin girl of Captain Harrigan. After a brief moment of shock, I realized that Harrigan was, thankfully, not around; I also noticed that Caulky was pouring small amounts of a suspicious liquid into various patrons' mugs - surely replicating the same stratagem that had led to our own capture, over six months ago.

Before we could interact with Caulky, a fellow Free Captain by the name of Pierce Jerell accosted us. He was a thin individual, his hair long and his face also sporting an eye patch, just like Caulky. He leered at Sandara in a most un-subtle way. Despite the poor timing of his arrival, I tried to remain pleasant toward him, remembering the rumors that described him as a skilled magic-user who had been raised among warriors. Varnas was much less polite, and almost growled as Jerell began flirting with Sandara.

"So how go things aboard the Salty Flagon, my good captain Pierce?" I enquired.

Before my interlocutor could respond, though, a commotion erupted from further in the tavern. Someone had apparently become aware of Caulky's tampering with their drinks, and while they were protesting with frantic gestures (spilling beer all around), they drew the ire of a neighbouring patron.

Soon enough, a good old-fashioned tavern brawl began all around us. Noticing that Caulky was trying to use the diversion to slip away, I cast a Haste spell on our group, so that we might catch up to her. Ursus, Granam and I swiftly made our way through the pugilistic crowd, only briefly stopping when two oversized inebriated individuals sought to stop us. Fortunately, they could not keep up with our magically accelerated movements, and we soon began ascending the stairs leading to the second floor, still following the elusive Caulky. The one-eyed brunette stopped at the top of the stairs just long enough to roll an empty barrel behind her. Granam nimbly dodged it at it thundered down the stairs, but Ursus was sent sprawling to his feet by the impact. Meanwhile, I had avoided the trajectory of the object in question and swiftly caught up with Caulky. I grabbed hold of her, and when she drew a short dagger to try and stab me in the face, I squeezed her wrist and made her drop the offending item. Granam and Ursus soon joined me and ensured she wouldn't offer any more resistance.

The sound of our scuffle was easily drowned by the cacophony of the bar brawl below. We dragged Caulky to a side-room normally reserved for shady, illegal deals (which, in Port Peril, are simply called "deals"). We began questioning her and learned that she was still a member of Barnabas Harrigan's crew, though she had now risen above the rank of mere cabin-girl. We understood that Harrigan's ship was to leave on the morrow. Our nemesis was seemingly unaware of our presence in the area, as well as of our fate and that of Mister Plugg and Master Scourge. I sought to keep it that way, and sensing that Caulky Tarroon was more dangerous to us alive than dead, I gestured discreetly to my companions a query regarding the woman's fate: to get rid of her, or spare her life?

We discussed the matter in whispers for a few moments, and sensing our grim intentions, Caulky offered to join our crew. Looking into her eye, I felt I could not trust her at all. I also knew that Harrigan was a psychopath and might seek to kill us if he learned of our presence in town - say, if she escaped and warned him. What's more, I had very bad memories of awakening in the Wormwood's hold, and to see Caulky seeking to replicate the scheme on some poor, unsuspecting sods this evening had awakened within me a profound and implacable anger towards her and the rest of my erstwhile tormentors.

So I drew my dagger and slit her throat.

Meanwhile, the fight had died down in the main room, but we soon heard the sounds of the city watch intervening. We were now in a small room with only one exit, and a dead body. Not good.

I decided to use my magic to change my appearance into that of one of the city guards, to try and divert them away from where Ursus and Granam remained in hiding with Caulky's corpse. Returning downstairs, I tried to act like a regular member of the guard, but very nearly failed in that endeavour, as they soon became highly suspicious of me. By some miracle, my true identity was not revealed, and I was tasked, along with another guard, to bring a large ruffian to the garrison.

We exited the tavern and walked along the dark streets. Having no desire to push my luck further, I helped my "captive" to escape and fled in a different direction. I ran and hid in the shadowy alleys for a few minutes, shedding my magical disguise to further elude pursuers. A short while later, I returned to the Riptide Alehouse and found Varnas and Sandara, who had both taken part in the bar brawl while the rest of us chased Caulky. Varnas had apparently delivered quite a thrashing to Pierce Jerell, who had fled the scene with the use of a scroll after temporarily stunning Varnas with a spell.

Soon after, Granam and Ursus also made their way out, not very subtly, but mercifully, the guards were gone by then. Granam looked pale and shaky; Ursus, on the other hand, seemed to be in a good mood and very relaxed. I could only infer that the poor Granam had been forced to watch Ursus perform unspeakable acts upon Caulky's corpse while they waited for the guard to leave the premises.

It seemed we'd had enough excitement for one night, so we all walked back toward the True Wind. Along the way, we came upon two suspicious-looking characters (by Port Peril standards, meaning really, really suspicious-looking) carrying a large bag containing an oddly human-shaped burden. My first instinct was to just keep going on our way, but again, being exposed once more to Caulky's treacherous body-snatching scheme earlier that night made me suspect that perhaps it was one of our own crew members who was about to be press ganged.

I approached the two ruffians with my four comrades in tow. The two cowards didn't even wait for us to come very close. "Screw this, let's tell Adelitta!" they grumbled as they dropped their package and fled in the darkness.

Approaching the bag, I untied it and curiously peered inside to see which unfortunate soul we had saved from waking up in another pirate ship's hold.

Imagine my surprise when, instead of the round-bellied tattooed sea-dog with a wooden leg that I'd been expecting, I discovered within the bag none other than the unconscious shape of my dear golden-haired belle, Hollycaryn! To think how close I'd come to losing her!

After explaining to my thunderstruck comrades that, no, I was not forcing her to remain a prisoner within my cabin at all times like a caged animal, and that I had given her the liberty to enjoy shore leave like everyone else, I gently took the sleeping beauty in my arms and carried her back to my cabin aboard the True Wind.

Neth 8th, 4711

A messenger came aboard the ship this morning. At first, I had expected him to have been sent by the mysterious "Adelitta" we had heard about last night (perhaps some sort of thieves' guild mistress), but I was pleasantly surprised to hear from him an invitation to meet with Tessa Fairwind, one of the most famous of the Free Captains of the Shackles: mistress of Motaku Island, she was well-known for her beauty and her luck. Apparently, she wanted to meet us.

The other trials

I faced Tsadok in the Trial of Luck: only the two of us and a "neutral" (though highly suspicious-looking) dealer were allowed on the deck of the ship. The game was "That Bastard's Fool", and the wager was 100 platinum pieces each. We quickly went over the rules, which included one specifying that the winner of each hand had to take a swig of potent alcohol.

Alas, Tsadok was a filthy, slippery coward of a player. He bet low. He folded often. He took no risks. Early in the game, I found myself winning almost every hand, but the earnings were risible: just a few coins at a time. Each time, I was forced to take a drink... I could feel my head starting to spin... That cur's intention was clearly to get me so drunk that he would finally get the advantage. It proved a winning strategy for him, the only one in fact. I could read him like an open book, and used my insights to make appropriate bets. After some time, I had amassed almost the entirety of his fortune. He was left with only ten or so of his precious coins.

But alas... alas...

He was a resilient foe...

Just as I was about to finish him off... Lady luck, ever fickle as she is, abandoned me.

Coins started moving back in huge heaps toward the half-orc's side of the table...

...

The next thing that I remember was being cleansed by some sort of magic that Varnas cast on me. I was standing on the docks along with my comrades. Disappointment was plain on each of their faces.

"Damnation," I exclaimed, "don't tell me we've lost?"

"Yeah... You went all out in the end, and he claimed every coin." grumbled Granam as he scratched his beard bitterly. It could have been a trick of my imagination, but it looked like it had grown considerably since I'd last seen him. Had the game been THAT long?

I was now once again in full possession of my senses, and returned to face the now considerably inebriated Tsadok. He glowed with satisfaction at his victory (which had earned him our 100 platinum pieces). He then announced that the next trial would consist of us defending the True Wind against the assault of an entity currently kept within a huge covered cage. This mysterious monster was revealed as Fishpork, a burly marsh giant of some renown in the city as a pit fighter.

Fishpork was a dangerous adversary, as he had access to some primitive form of magic, and hit like... well, like a giant... But the four of us easily bested him. Before long, he was lying on the dock, slashed to death by Varnas's gigantic falchion, and with a multitude of Granam's arrows lodged in his thick gray skin.

"You won two trials," granted Tsadok. "All right, that's good enough. See you at eight o'clock at Lucre Hold, then."

His majesty

This evening, we dined with the best of the worst of Port Peril. We met with the Hurricane King himself, Kerdak Bonefist. I got the chance to see from up close his skeletal hand (which legends say he gained as a result of an encounter with a lich pirate with whom he made a deal), his magical tankard (ever full of beer or rum), and his famous pistol that never misses. I was surprised to see how "young" the Hurricane King was: even though he is a human, and has been in charge for at least forty years, he is not as frail and feeble as a regular human of that age. Surely there must be some sort of magic that's keeping him young.

Among his entourage were many of the Free Captains of the Shackles, including my acquaintance, Wide Olga (so named due to her large smile, not because of the width of her body), in whose company I had escaped the chelaxian execution squad around a year ago.

I was given the occasion to present my case, to convince the King and his sycophants that I was worthy of joining their ranks. Varnas maintained a strong presence as well and ensured that the troublemakers in the room did not hinder my speech too much. I spoke of our claim over Tidewater Rock; of our victories over captains Isabella Locke and Jeremiah Pilk; and of our many battles against the vessels of the hated chelaxian navy. When my words themselves fell just shy of entirely convincing our jaded and greedy audience, I ensured to present to them some of our spoils of war, and these gifts led them to heed my request.

The Hurricane King spoke in the end and claimed that I was to be accepted among the ranks of the Free Captains of the Shackles! I was given a letter of marque (a magical document that can be made to look like a simple cargo manifest) and a list of the Free Captains (to avoid accidental battles between peers). On my part, I pledged to protect the Shackles, to spare the merchant ships from Sargava, etc, etc.

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BOOK 3: TEMPEST RISING
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Lamashan 23rd, 4711

We returned to Tidewater Rock this evening. I showed Agasta the treasure we found at Mancatcher Cove. She marvelled at the wealth displayed before her eyes, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering her. The feeling that... somehow... she knew about Hollycaryn.

I've reached an important decision today, along with the ship's officers. We've decided to venture to Port Peril to ask the Hurricane King for a letter of marque naming me a Free Captain of the Shackles. It won't be easy, since we are not fortunate enough to be backed in our claim by an existing Free Captain, or better yet, a Pirate Lord, but our fame is growing. We have recently won several naval battle, we claimed a treasure, we control Tidewater Rock, we have a good ship... It is definitely worth trying. Otherwise, we risk becoming prey to the more powerful pirate crews every time we enter the Shackles.

Lamashan 26th, 4711

We've rested at Tidewater Rock these past three days.

Granam used his newly found thieves' tools to try and disable the trap on the stone box we found in the sahuagin lair. He did so on Tidewater Rock itself, away from anyone else. This was a wise precaution, for her utterly failed to disarm the trap. A large cloud of poisonous vapor soon surrounded him, but he was thankfully protected from it by his magic and sturdy constitution. Such a toxin could have had a disastrous effect on our crew, though, if we had been foolish enough to open it aboard the True Wind.

We were disappointed to find within that stone box not a second huge treasure, but rather... a corpse. Our analysis revealed it to be the corpse of a human male, many decades old. It still wore some jewelry, as a sort of consolation prize for us. None of it radiated magic, nor did we find anything else of interest within. The spirit of this long-dead man resisted Varnas's initial attempt at necromantic questioning.

Lamashan 27th, 4711

We've begun our journey toward Port Peril today. We're still sailing aboard the True Wind and we've brought the Thresher along to sell it. I dare hope that it will fetch a hefty price, once prospective buyers become aware of its ties to the notorious pirate Isabella Locke. Even though we've just found a large treasure, I remained obsessed with finding more money, for our crew is quite expensive to pay... around five hundred gold pieces per month... Now I understand why some captains purposefully sail with a smaller crew.

Our navigation has been made easier thanks to the many excellent maps of the Shackles we've acquired in recent raids. I've got them on display in the walls of my cabin, so I can examine them whenever required.

"Here there be random encounters... what does that mean?" asked Hollycaryn this evening as she traced with a slender finger the monster-decorated corner of one of the bigger maps.

"That map must have been penned by someone with a sick sense of humor, my dear," I replied as I gently wrapped my arm over her shoulders. "Or someone with much experience at sea, where it sometimes feel like fate itself rolls cosmic dice into the aether, using them to determine in what manner to torment unfortunate mortals."

Neth 5th, 4711

We arrived at Port Peril today, flying the flag of the Shackles as a gesture of peace: the skull over two crossed shackles on a red and black background. We cautiously entered Crescent Harbor and docked our ships where they will have to remain in quarantine for one week. Worried that some of the city's thieves could steal our hard-earned treasure, some of us will maintain a watch over it at all times.

I let my sailors go on shore leave, and the majority of them immediately dispersed among the many brothels and taverns that stand close to the docks. I sternly warned them to stay away from the Formidably Maid, lest we lose them to another crew recruiting there.

I stayed aboard the True Wind for now, gazing up at Lucre Hold, the fortress of Kerdak Bonefist the Hurricane King. I tasked a few of my most trusted men to bring him a sizable offering, as well as a request to discuss my nomination as Free Captain. A few hours later, I received a summons to meet with his majesty tomorrow evening.

Though the lure of debauchery called to me from the nearby streets, I acted responsibly and remained aboard the ship to watch over the treasure with Hollycaryn keeping me company.

Neth 6th, 4711

We were most rudely awakened this morning by an uncouth oaf bellowing obscenities in the vicinity of my ship. I exited the cabin and was about to put the ruffian in his place when I immediately opted for respectful silence upon recognizing his famous and hideous face: our visitor was none other than Tsadok Goldtooth, a half-orc of considerable girth who was widely known to be the first mate of the Hurricane King himself. To insult him was to seek death, so I strove to remain polite despite the brute's extreme rudeness regarding myself, my ship, my crew and my request to meet with his master. I did not let his crass words upset me because I realized that this was just a show: a small crowd had already begun to gather on the docks. Some of them were sycophants who laughed and clapped at Tsadok's slightest jest and insult, but others seemed to hold the behemoth in very low esteem. It is to these that I appealed when I addressed the crowd in response to Tsadok's accusations. Though the brute is surely a powerful combatant, when it comes to manipulating a crowd, I am convinced that I am, by far, his superior.

Tsadok informed me and my three main companions (Ursus, Granam and Varnas, who were, miraculously, present and awake despite their night of intense debauchery) that we must succeed at three trials in order to be deemed worthy of meeting his master.

The first trial was a race: one of us needed to climb up the mast of a ship and untie a sail while one of his men did the same on another nearby mast. Whoever untied his sail the fastest would win. Granam promptly volunteered for the task and swiftly left his opponent in the dust as he effortlessly ascended the mast with his slippers of spider climbing. Though some hooligans tried to ruin the event by rocking the ship, Granam handily beat Tsadok's man.

"Okay," grumbled the Hurricane King's first mate, "You pass this one... Now for the second trial: the trial of luck!..."

Lamashan 21st, 4711

Gratitude

We became aware today of some aquatic creatures trailing our ships. We stopped and discovered that they were locatahs. Granam used his new-found slippers of spider climbing to conveniently approach the bottom of our ship and discuss with the marine creatures. It turns out that they are subjects of the matriarch we saved from the sahuagin lair. They offered us their thanks and a magical helm of underwater action - a valuable sign of a gratitude indeed!

I was touched by these strange creatures' gift. The kindness we showed the locatah matriarch had not been in vain. I found myself thinking back of happier times, of my childhood before the great storm that changed the face of the world, and even of the years when, as a youth, I served as a cabin boy for my adopted father, a human captain from Cheliax. Kindness, fairness, noble deeds had been much more present in these early stages of my life. Alas, the terrible decades that followed, throughout the war against the agents of House Thrune, this terrible conflict that tore Cheliax apart and caused the death of nearly everyone I loved, turned me into a bitter, selfish parody of the person I would otherwise have become. Even "Whisperquill", this pseudonym I had given myself as I wrote rebellious pamphlets protesting the tyranny of the Thrune family while I still lived in Cheliax, simply became the name of just another petty smuggler once I migrated to Varisia, penniless, friendless and with a price on my head.

And now, what am I? Captain Akavar Whisperquill, a pirate captain... Living on the edge, a life where each day could be my last, always seeking the call of gold, leading a crew of honorless cut-throats. Is this truly what destiny had in store for me when I was born in my peaceful forest village so many years ago?

Despite our recent great victory at having claimed Cyrus Wolf's treasure, a tiny fraction of my being feels some doubt. Could it be Hollycaryn's influence? Already? She is such a sweet and innocent girl. I feel quite guilty, at some level, that she's found herself among us. Turns out she was bullied by Varnas and had no choice but to join our crew. Her recruitment was barely more pleasant than our own when we joined the crew of the Wormwood.

I can sense that Hollycaryn has a gentle soul... Much like I did, so long ago, before I grew so jaded.

Will she revive that spark of kindness that had so long been extinguished within me?

Or, on the contrary, will she become "one of us" after spending long enough amidst the constant struggle and debauchery?

For now, we have reached an understanding. I named her my cabin girl, and made sure that none other shall touch her. We have some truly vicious curs among our crew (I am sad to admit), and I know that she could be mistreated if caught by the wrong people in the dark corners of the hold. As long as I am master of this ship... She will be under my protection.

Lamashan 22nd, 4711

For whom the bell tolls

The weather worsened today, but something more dangerous than a mere storm was in store for us.

Captain Pilk's ship, the Deathknell, returned again this night.

Darkness had just fallen and we were surrounded by a thick bank of fog. And within the hazy gloom arose a sound that made our skin crawl: Pilk's bell!

Of course, we felt confident on some level, since we had defeated him before. But this time, we meant to get rid of him for good. We discussed for some time to try and determine what, among his tale, could be a hint that would reveal the true mean of putting his accursed soul to rest. As the sound of the bell grew louder, a darkness materialized in the form of an old derelict among the mists, and we agreed on the most likely focus of the undead's curse: his bell!

Once again, we battled the undead sailors. While the rest of the crew fought a large number of skeletons, Varnas, Ursus and I fought six brine zombies. Meanwhile, Granam shot many arrows at Pilk's bell to try and break it. It wasn't easy, and his projectiles had the unfortunate side-effect of causing the accursed bell to ring even more. As the combat progressed, Ursus became victim of Captain Pilk's deathly touch and only barely escaped with his life. Finally, though, Granam broke the bell, and an immediate change washed over our enemies. Pilk, the last remaining zombie, and the skeletons crumbled to the ground. The ghost ship itself, which was already in such a bad state that it seemed impossible that it could stay afloat, began to disintegrate. Varnas only had time to grab Pilk's enchanted harpoon before the Deathknell sank underneath the waves; this time, hopefully, for good.

Farewell, foolish Captain Pilk. May your soul, and your bell, rest in peaceful silence for all eternity.

(Speaking of bells... DING! The characters rise to level 7!)

The Thresher

What was the Thresher doing here? Had they just arrived in the region, or had they been waiting in hiding since we had approached Mancatcher Cove? No matter: I felt a strong need for revenge since those curs attacked Tidewater Rock during the night, so I ordered my crew to approach the enemy ship at full speed. Our opponents might have been taken aback at first, perhaps expecting us to try and escape with the treasure, but I knew that our chances of escaping such a swift Shackles junk would be slim. The True Wind, an Absalom barque, is strong, sturdy and beautiful, but she is not the fastest vessel to sail the seas.

As we approached, it appeared that there were only around forty enemies on board the other vessel, but they seemed like veteran pirates. We outnumbered them two to one, but we had many green youths aboard the True Wind, so the odds weren't so clearly in our favor.

As we boarded, I swiftly followed Ursus and a gigantic Varnas on the other side, using my magic to bolster the troops as usual. Meanwhile, Granam provided covering fire from our stern castle. We located the Thresher's new captain (Isabella's first mate), a bare-chested mountain of a man wearing bladed gauntlets. As he fought Ursus, he was pierced by several of Granam's arrows. The villain resisted my attempts to disable him via magical humor, but was swiftly cut down by our potent archer. Varnas and I then followed Ursus upstairs and faced the first mate's assistants, two shady-looking halflings. They were able to deal several nasty wounds to Ursus before we killed them both.

Once management had been dealt with, my companions and I joined the rest of our crew to take control of the ship. The battle lasted for quite a while, but eventually, the last few remaining enemies surrendered. We followed the usual routine and rounded up the survivors, binding them in the hold; we also took care of our wounded. Alas, eight of our crew members died this day. I am sad to say that the little halfling known as Ratline Rattsberger was among the casualties. I had become quite fond of the ugly little runt. Maheem, the man from godless Rahadoum, was also slain, and I wonder where his soul will end up. I searched the deck for some time, my heart fearing that I would discover a delicate golden-haired corpse among the fallen, but fortunately, my paranoia was not justified: my beautiful lover, Hollycaryn, had survived the struggle with only a few minor bruises, which I promptly healed with my magic.

We tossed our dead enemies' corpses to the sharks, but will dispose of our fallen comrades in a more respectful way later. The Thresher is a very good ship and will require only a minimal crew to pilot. I assigned some of our people to take control of it. We also claimed our foes' treasure. I then went down to examine and question our prisoners. We learned that they had been hiding in waiting since before we arrived at Mancatcher Cove. The fools had made a tragic error in timing, for if they had attacked us one day earlier, when the entire crew was drunk, they could have slaughtered us easily.

Among them, only Isabella had been on speaking terms with the sahuagins, and in her absence, they decided to wait nearby and hope that either she or we would show up and make the treasure accessible. I, of course, smugly revealed to them that their late mistress was long dead.

Although we usually "recruit" some new crew members among the prisoners we make after winning a battle, this lot seemed quite dangerous and unruly. Like the rest of my men, I was disinclined to trust them even a little bit. It was probably safer to simply make sure that none of them reached Tidewater Rock alive...

Lamashan 19th, 4711

I awoke this morning much refreshed mentally from yesterday's ordeal, but aching terribly from my many unhealed wounds, the awkward position in which I'd slept on the floor of my cabin, and the accursed coral that still covered part of my body.

After cleaning myself to be more presentable, I exited my cabin and joined the crew on deck, who were still in wild celebration. The treasure chest was again taken out for all to see and to enjoy. This time, I was able to take part in the merriment, and I told the tale of our adventure in Mancatcher Cove. I believe the crew has now fully realized how formidable their captain, bosun, master gunner and navigator really are! We, I daresay, are the stuff of legend!

Among my audience was a bright-eyed beauty, a young human woman named Hollycaryn who had recently joined our crew in Senghor. I'd noticed her before, with her golden locks and innocent eyes, she seemed perhaps a bit out of place aboard a pirate ship. My animal instincts were still fully awakened by the previous day of combat and physical exertion, and my close brush with death had left me with a need to celebrate life in the most primal fashion. I took pretty Hollycaryn by the arm and brought her with me to my cabin, to give her a chance to show the extent of her appreciation for her heroic captain.

...

We did not emerge from my cabin until nightfall.

Lamashan 20th, 4711

There remained, of course, some unexplored areas inside the sahuagin lair. Perhaps within some of those dark and deep tunnels existed some treasures that still hadn’t been found. What’s more, we felt a strong hatred toward this tribe of sahuagins that we had fought so bitterly. We had killed their leader and most of their warriors, or so we surmised, but the hatchery remained untouched. Within a number of years, would the tribe grow back to its former strength? We did not think so: without their protectors, the remaining sahuagins would hopefully fall prey to other undersea predators, and be wiped out. And a four-armed mutant such as Krelloort was a rare occurrence: perhaps such a strong leader wouldn’t emerge in the area for a long, long time. In truth, we had no desire to return within the claustrophobic submerged caves and risk our lives again – and for what? We’d already claimed Cyrus Wolf’s treasure as well as whatever was in that mysterious lead-sealed stone box. That’s what we had come here to get. Whatever other trinkets could be found in the shark-men's lair would surely pale in comparison to what we already discovered. We had also already used three of our precious water-breathing potions in our venture. But more importantly, I did not trust the ruffians that form my crew to obediently remain behind while I returned to the sahuagin lair with my three most powerful companions. What would stop them from simply sailing away with my ship and my treasure, leaving us stranded on that Besmara-forsaken island? No, that was a risk I simply could not take.

By morning, most of the crew had recovered from those 36 hours of festivities. I gave orders to raise the anchor and set a course for Tidewater Rock. We navigated around Mancatcher Cover toward the north, but as we rounded the tip of the island, we came in sight of a ship blocking our way; a ship we'd seen before.

It had once belonged to one Isabella "Inkskin" Locke...

The way back

Thus we began our laborious journey back toward the ship, each chest being dragged along the bottom of the caves by two of us. But alas, the weight of the treasure would not be our primary obstacle to a safe and speedy return aboard.

Four sharks and nine sahuagins (including the concubine we have previously encountered) awaited us in the throne room. A second harrowing combat took place there, and once again, we only narrowly survived it. I found myself surrounded, and despite killing several of our enemies, I was pierced and bitten from all sides and nearly perished. I blacked out - once I regained consciousness, the fight was over, my comrades had somehow been victorious and revived me with one of my own healing potions.

Varnas and I could barely stand; we were out of spells. One more fight would likely finish us off. But we had the treasure now, and we weren't going to let it out of our sight!

I only have scant and hazy memories of the period that followed. I remember walking along the tunnels, sharing the atrociously heavy burden of the iron chest with Granam, through what seemed like an endless and nightmarish labyrinth of dark aquatic caverns. All that mattered was to return to the ship. Granam was the only one who had the presence of mind to stop at the cave where the female locatah had been imprisoned. We took her with us.

We then faced an even more daunting obstacle: getting the chests up the pit into the cave with the roots of the giant tree, then back down the skull face and into our (fortunately, still intact) rowboat. We used our ropes to accomplish such a feat - oh, how I wished we still had access to Varnas's Levitation magic at that time! We also carried the Locatah back to Mancatcher Cove and set her free in the ocean's waters, along with as many of her eggs as she had been able to carry.

And then we rowed. It probably took only a few minutes, but it felt like a year. As we slowly made our way back to the True Wind (still anchored safely away from Mancatcher Cove), Granam caught sight of a gigantic and hideous plant among the vines above us.

"The beast of Mancatcher Cove!" he gasped in dismay.

I had been wise to keep my ship away from the false shelter of the cove. The plant would have surely been able to cause much damage to the masts and rigging, and the sailors up there would have made a tasty meal for it. But we were close to the surface of the sea, and the monstrosity mercifully ignored us.

I then remember standing on the deck of the True Wind with Granam, Ursus and Varnas. We were exhausted, covered in bruises, cuts and half-healed wounds; parts of our flesh had been transformed into coral. But the crew gathered around us regarded us with adoring eyes:

WE HAD RETURNED WITH CYRUS WOLF'S TREASURE!!!!

We opened the iron, skull-decorated chest and examined the wealth within: silk, furs, spices, gold orbs, a deep platinum crown, a jewelry box, a sinister figurehead that I recognized as a Besmara's Bone, two magical fans and slippers of spider climbing.

The stone chest we kept closed for now. I was wary of its trap: something devastating enough might endanger the structure of the True Wind itself, and then our hard-earned treasure would so soon be lost! The chest's opening would have to wait until a better place and time.

The crew cheered at our good fortune, and a great revelry began. Rum flowed freely. How I would have liked to partake in the festivities in full health with my crew... But I was too tired, too wounded, too dazed by the arduous underwater adventure I had just barely escaped with my life. After only a few gulps of rum, I felt the world sway around me, and I didn't want to lose control... not now... I felt a great sense of fear overcome me: would my crew try to steal the treasure in this moment of weakness? No... I could not let that happened.

I gave orders for both chests to be brought to my cabin, and locked the door behind me.

I was alone in the darkness with Cyrus Wolf's treasure... My treasure!

I plunged both arms inside the mountain of gold contained in the iron chest and laughed madly, with tears pouring down my cheeks. I kissed the crown of deep platinum and fell asleep, hugging my treasure...

Cyrus Wolf's treasure

We claimed Krelloort's trident as our own, though it was a painful weapon to manipulate without heavy gloves due to its texture. Analyzing its aura, I understood not only that it was indeed made to slay humans, but also how its power of calcification worked - it would be very difficult to cure us from such an affliction. It was beyond our power and that of Sandara.

An examination of the throne showed us that it had a faint magical aura; most likely a lingering ancient curse that caused megalomania and/or paranoia on the person sitting on it. We all turned toward Ursus, expecting him to sit on it, but for once he shown restraint and reason. We also noticed that an opening was barely visible below the ponderous seat. With a great deal of effort, and only due to our highly-above-average combined strengths, we were able to move the throne sufficiently to allow passage below.

Before exploring underneath the throne, we decided to visit the two side-rooms that could be found behind curtains of algae, despite the fact that we knew that more sahuagins were on the way. We found several pieces of jewelry, but the most intriguing item was a Varisian musical box showing the ivory figure of a harrower. It bore the inscription: "For my darling Isabella". Yet another artefact of Isabella's past, hinting that one of her parents or caretakers had been here, among these sahuagins, and with some relation to Cyrus Wolf's treasure, but we were still left with more questions than answers at this point. Isabella was now dead and we were on the verge of claiming the ancient hoard, so I suppose it didn't matter.

We also found within one of the caves a sturdy old capstan: something that could have acted as a very handy lever to make our job easier in moving the throne, had we only searched the rooms before...

Below the throne, a fifty-foot-long tunnel led us to another cave where we found two chests: one was of sturdy wood with bands of iron, well-preserved and decorated with skulls; it radiated magic. The other container was a stone box with a fish-headed demon decoration. It was sealed with lead.

Thrilled to have finally found the treasure, we nevertheless kept cool heads and remained cautious. We carefully examined our surroundings. The stone box seemed trapped. We found no secret doors in the cave, but found a hidden key that allowed us to open the iron chest. It was filled with gold, jewels and magical items, all of which were protected by a magical air bubble. What's more, the chest was heavier than it appeared, and we understood that it was enchanted to be able to carry more than its proportions would allow as dictated by the mundane laws of reality.

We left the stone box unopened for now, dreading its trap, knowing we were in a very dangerous place and with limited healing magic left at our disposal. Rather, we decided to take the chests with us, despite their weight, and bring them back to the True Wind.

The throne room

It took us a while to decide where to attack next; the length of the conversation was due in part to our diverging opinions, but also because of the water's interference. We finally ventured toward the throne room. Along the way, we reached an antechamber where we fought a hammerhead shark that was larger than any we'd encountered before. It was a ferocious foe, but we were able to wound it so badly that it fled for its life toward a larger cave further ahead.

Pursuing the creature, we entered a primitive throne room that was adorned with a massive stone throne seemingly crafted by some ancient civilization. It was engraved with the depiction of a one-eyed beast and had apparently been underwater for a long while.

A more thorough investigation of the place was prevented by the sudden appearance of a monstrously large sahuagin with four arms: Krelloort. It wielded a wicked-looking trident made of coral. And at present time, that trident was about to pierce my thorax.

I dodged the blow at the last moment, but was still grazed by the weapon; its contact caused my flesh to partly turn into coral, something that hindered my movement. Two large sahuagins, which we later understood were females (Krelloort's concubines) and the wounded shark also joined their liege. The combat that followed nearly spelled the end of Captain Akavar Whisperquill's nautical tales. Krelloort's trident proved even deadlier against my comrades - humans, all of them - for it was a weapon specifically to slay that race. We fought bravely until the bitter end - some moments later, Krelloort and his shark were dead, but so were Ursus and Varnas. Granam was gravely wounded and passed out from blood loss. I stood alone against the two concubines. They sought to finish me off, but I parried their every blow. How I did it, I do not know, for I was on the brink of death myself. Sensing that they would not get the best of me, they fled - or tried to. I was able to slay one of them, and only her sister escaped, no doubt to fetch the rest of the tribe.

The pain made my hands shake, but I used the last of my magic to revive my companions. Miraculously, Varnas and Ursus had in fact narrowly avoided death. Then, using the last of Varnas's magic as well, in addition to wands and potions, we were able to heal most of our wounds. Alas, we had all been struck by Krelloort's trident, and were all partly calcified.

(OOC: In fact, Ursus and Varnas both died during that fight. They used action points to survive. Akavar was the only one left standing, but with only 5 hit points.)

Into the pit

Understanding we would explore submerged tunnels, we drank from a potion of Water Breathing before securing a rope at the top of the pit and climbing down. While Ursus's magical breastplate can be a boon at times, as it allows him to walk on water, he had to remove it in order to venture below the surface. Unarmored, he went from being the most well-protected to the least-protected among us.

We swam twenty feet down to where the pit opened into an underground tunnel. The water was salty but stagnant. There were crevasses along the wall; the absence of small fish in the area hinted at the presence of predators nearby, most likely a tribe of sahuagins.

Facing a choice between two tunnels, we took the right-most one and followed its upward slope. It led us to a room filled with breathable air. A few pieces of furniture were placed there; they had seen better days. The cave was divided in two by a broken fence made of driftwood. From beyond it had grown some lovely flowers that I instantly recognized as xtabays. This carnivorous plant can emit soporific spores that allow it to crawl over its victims and eat them. We faced eight xtabays. Before the slow-moving plants could react, we had already slain six of them. The remaining two, however... how... ever........

zzz....

I woke up some minutes after, having finally overcome the sleeping pollen. Thankfully, Granam and Varnas had finished off the remaining plants. We found the remains of a small fish-man in the room: perhaps a sahuagin child who had ventured into this dangerous place. More interesting were the personal items we found in this place. I believe them to have belonged to Isabella: how odd! Why was she living in this god-forsaken place?

She had likely kept the xtabays here to provide a steady supply of oxygen. One of the more disturbing oddities found here was a jar full of alcohol, within which floated the head of a pock-marked Tian man with a kraken tattoo on his forehead. I believed this to be the head of Sashimina, captain of the Dragon's Dishonor, a man who disappeared ten years ago. Was he a victim of Isabella, or perhaps of whoever had been Isabella's mentor?

After claiming a magical wand and some potions we found while searching the room, we retraced our steps and ventured into a room where six sahuagins were playing some kind of game. A battle ensued, and we soundly defeated our opponents, although Ursus suffered several wounds, as he was not wearing any armor; we convinced him to guard the rear of our party.

Next, we entered an old armory where we fought a giant crab. After defeating the beast, we found a well-made, but broken, trident that Varnas restored to working condition and will use from now on, his falchion being difficult to wield adequately underwater.

The following room was guarded by two sahuagins and a shark. Bursting into the room, Varnas and I each killed one of the sahuagins before they could even react. Granam also wounded the shark. The creature defended its life fiercely, but we were able to slay it as well.

Next, we discovered a cave within which floated several dozen pinkish eggs. I recognized them as locatah eggs, fertilized but not yet ready to hatch. I explained to the others (with some difficulty, as we were underwater) that the locatah are a different race of fish-men, weaker and less warlike than the sahuagins.

Past the egg room, we found the source of the eggs: a miserable locatah female with orange scales was chained to the walls. The sahuagins had visibly greatly tormented her, for her legs had been chopped off and many of her scales had been removed, forming patterns on her body. As we broken her chains, Granam and Ursus spoke to her in the Aquan tongue (Ursus having just recently discovered his ability to speak this tongue, perhaps thanks to Isabella's deep platinum jewel?). The locatah said she'd been here for a long time, and at times visited by a captured male locatah to be fertilized. Some of her eggs were used as food, others to produce slaves. She informed us that the passage to the sea was one that led down. As soon as she was freed, she pitifully and clumsily swam to the other cave and began gathering an armful of eggs to try and bring them to safety. We told her we would provide some assistance in this endeavour, but that we must continue our exploration of the caves first, trying to annihilate the presence of the evil sahuagins in these surroundings.

As we began moving toward the rest of the caves, I noticed that Ursus regarded the female locatah in the same disturbing way he had eyed Isabella's corpse. Mercifully, the profoundly disturbed young man realized the absurdity of the situation (an abused fish-woman with no legs...) and turned back to follow the rest of the group.

The next cave was large and filled with blood and floating bits of "food". A foul spectacle was revealed to our eyes: eleven sahuagins were devouring the bodies of six locatah and three giant moray eels. Gripped by a feeding frenzy, they did not notice our approach. We attacked several of them before they even reacted. The three larger ones were warriors and fought back, but we swiftly dispatched them, as well as a few of the others, which were elderly, invalid or young. The others fled down one of the several tunnels that led out of the cave.

Passing through a thick curtain of sea weed, we followed the fleeing enemies into a cave occupied by around thirty or forty more weak-looking sahuagins: while those we'd fought so far were the warriors of the tribe, these were the more "mundane" members, who served as slaves to the warrior caste.

Varnas drew his trident with a murderous grin on his face, but Granam convinced him to stay his blade for a while and let him talk to the creatures. He spoke for a few minutes, and the monsters answered, afraid of those who had killed their protectors. Granam than translated to us that Isabella ("the sorceress with the tattoos") had indeed lived in the air-filled room. She was an ally of the tribe's boss, Krelort, one who was usually found in his throne room, or nearby.

The sahuagins were eagerly waiting for the locatah eggs to hatch, as the locatah youths would then become the new slaves of the tribe, giving the wretches we were currently talking to someone to lord over, and diverting the worst of the warrior caste's violent attention away from them.

Granam also gleaned from them a description of the areas we had yet to visit: a hatchery, a passage leading to the sea, and the throne room.

The Captain's Wayward Orb

After healing our wounds, we rowed toward the Grave Lady's prized tooth. The skull was around 30 feet in height and stood at around 10 feet in elevation. Both of its eyes were around 8 feet in diameter, only two of the many such crevasses in Mancatcher Cover. Now that we were closer, we guessed that the fool's gold that formed the "prized tooth" was not of natural origin: it had likely been added there by Cyrus Wolf. Discussing how to best access the shadowy orbs, Varnas offered to lift us there, one by one, thanks to the powers of Levitation granted to him by some strange ghostly powers.

Not knowing which eye was the correct one, we decided to explore the left one first. The entrance was quite tight: broad-shouldered Varnas barely fit in. Deeper inside, the tunnel widened and climbed up in a steep slope, leading almost to the surface of the island. We reached a large cave where sprawled the roots of a great and ancient tree, illuminated not only by our magical lights, but also by streaks of sunlight that filtered down from some openings high above. Over its bark, some roots formed the shape of what looked like an old man's bearded face. We evidently noticed the resemblance it bore to Isabella's tattoo.

An old skull was firmly within the grasp of some thick roots. We could not remove it, but we noticed that it was gazing down at a certain spot in the ground. Examining it carefully, it seemed empty. We searched the spot that the skull indicated, but found nothing. We searched the entire cave - nothing. I sought for any sort of magical aura in our surroundings, but everything seemed of the natural realm.

We felt a mild sense of disappointment, but we'd been expecting something of the sort: after all, Isabella had told us that the treasure had been taken, but was still "technically" in Mancatcher Cove, and underwater. Was it deep in the indigo waters? If so, would we ever have any hope of claiming it?

Before succumbing to despair, we decided to explore the other eye: in fact, perhaps we had simply ventured into the wrong one. The other cave was wider and filled with the fragrance of honeysuckle. A few bees busied themselves around the flowers. Unlike the other cave, this one remained at a steady level. A bit further into its depth, we noticed the presence of a spiked log trap. Varnas disabled it with a summoned giant water rat. The unfortunate creature was splattered most messily by the trap, but better it than us.

Alas, as it turned out, the trap protected nothing: the cave was a dead end, and even emptier than the previous one. It seemed that the left eye had been the right one (no pun intended) all along.

We did not give up hope yet. Returning to the root-filled cavern, we decided to dig into the hard soil. It was an unpleasant and back-breaking labor, but after digging for maybe five or six feet, we finally encountered a thick wooden trap door. Victory!!

We saw no way of opening it, so we simply smashed it down. Underneath, we saw a dark pit filled with water 30 feet below us. The remains of a wooden platform and stairway were, by now, utterly unusable. Dropping a magically illuminated pebble into the water, we got the impression that it had a depth of around twenty feet.

Shark riders

The four of us jumped into the water to face our assailants. There were three of these hated sahuagins, each riding a large shark. One of the villains was busy trying to pierce the hull of our rowboat. His two comrades and their vicious mounts immediately attacked us. What followed was a hectic mess, as we struggled to keep our balance in the water, holding our breath, facing enemies who were at home in such an environment. What saved us was that our skill at arms was vastly superior to our foes'.

I immediately ran my rapier through the throat of the saboteur, putting an end to his devious work. Granam was close by, on my side of the boat, while the others were on the other side. Dodging the enemies' blows, I attacked the second shark-rider, hoping that their mounts would be drawn to the scent of their blood, postponing their attacks as they fed on their erstwhile masters. Alas! The sahuagin's trident connected with my shoulder and drew blood, and his shark bit my thigh, but swiftly let go as I pummelled its nose with the hilt of my rapier. I then swiftly retaliated against the sahuagin, skewering him with one strike.

Surrounded by my own blood, feeling like my lungs were about to explode, I nonetheless continued to fight. Spying the form of Varnas not far, I moved to engage the middle shark, and he did the same. Caught between our blades, the great fish was soon pierced to death. That was the last I saw of Varnas for a while, for after dealing that blow, I saw that he began to flounder, dragged down as he was by his ponderous breastplate into the indigo depths.

I had no time to aid him, though, as I was still beset by another shark. With some assistance from Granam (who was forced to use his cutlass instead of his bow, greatly impeding his battle prowess), here, too, I prevailed, and slew the aquatic predator.

Far below, now, I could see the dark shape of Varnas vainly trying to swim to the surface. I wished to aid him, but I knew that I would not survive much longer without breathing. For my own survival, I had to swim back up and gasp for air. Granam also came up with me, and we saw Ursus (who had dispatched the other enemies) walking on the waves, thanks to the magical power of his breastplate.

After a few moments of anxiety, Varnas joined us as well: he had drunk an elixir of swimming to counteract the weight of his breastplate. It saved his life.

Lamashan 18th, 4711

With the Dawnflower's First Kiss

I woke up just before the sun rise. Much to my relief, our ship had not sunk during the night, nor had we been attacked. The "Dawnflower's first kiss", known to some as the rising sun, brought a wonderful display of colors and shades upon the wall formed by the cliffs at the back of Mancatcher Cove. As expected, we beheld under this light something that until then had been hidden from our eyes: an enormous skull was carved in the side of the cliff; the vines growing over it formed something which resembled the wild hair and beard on the face of a man. Within the skull's mouth, some mineral glittered with a golden hue under the rays of the morning sun.

"The grave lady's prized tooth!"

We now suspected that we were meant to climb toward the skull and interact with one of its eyes (the wayward orb), but we weren't sure which one.

My three usual comrades and I returned to the rowboat, leaving our entire crew to defend the ship. After hearing Isabella's words, I suspected that some dire fate might befall the True Wind if I brought it within Mancatcher Cove itself, so I minded its safety with more caution than I did for my own survival.

Our second visit to Mancatcher Cove was not as peaceful as the first one, though. More shark fins soon became visible above the waves, and Granam noticed that there were riders on the sharks... Soon, we heard the tell-tale signs of these aquatic fiends beginning to sabotage our boat, and we knew that we were in grave peril indeed!

Lamashan 17th, 4711

Mancatcher Cove

We have cautiously sailed the waters of the Shackles under the cover of the night to avoid encounters with the local (better armed, and more numerous) pirates.

We have finally reached our destination: Mancatcher Cove!

At first, we carefully explored the surrounding waters, wary of unseen reefs. The island's cliffs are between 30 and 60 feet high, steep and eroded by the ages and the elements, making them smooth and surely very difficult to ascend. From the jungle that sprawls atop the island come the cacophonous cries of monkeys and birds.

On the eastern side of the island lies a small bay: a bight... Due to its extremely deep floor, the water within is of an indigo hue, which stands in stark contrast with the turquoise waters of the surrounding sea. What's even more unusual, though, is the canopy of vines that drape over the bay, at a height of approximately a hundred feet, like a mysterious web. Is this a natural occurrence, we wonder, or was it woven by someone... or some thing?

"The beast of Mancatcher Cove..." whispered some of our frightened crew members.

But Isabella claimed that the beast was no more. What to believe? In fact, Isabella might have lied to us, for the dead are not necessarily truthful.

Suddenly, Granam called to our attention a strange sound coming from below the ship. Someone or some thing was sabotaging our rudder! We swiftly departed the area before the dastard could finish his job; then Varnas used his magic to repair the damage.

I had no wish to get stranded here with my entire crew. I ordered some men to watch for any more signs of sabotage very carefully. Then, listening only to our courage, Granam, Varnas, Ursus and I went aboard a rowboat and ventured into the indigo waters of Mancatcher Cove. Thankfully, we were not attacked, though we spied some shark fins in the vicinity. The interior of the cove consisted of vine-covered cliffs that were riddled with holes and crevasses. This is indeed a good location to store a treasure, for searching the place would take a horrendously long time.

We noticed neither prized tooth nor wayward orb during our exploration, but that was to be expected: it was mid-afternoon, and I surmised that our hint would only become visible at sunrise. We returned to the True Wind, where I assigned a heavy guard rotation for the night. As the shadows of twilight grew thicker, a creepy atmosphere descended upon us, and we wondered if we would be visited again by the rudder-sabotaging entity.

Rova 3rd, 4711

We've left Tidewater Rock, headed for Senghor. We plan on selling some of our plunder over there, as well as our third ship, the Devil's Pallor. It stinks of goblin filth. Most of my crew is with me aboard our main ship, the True Wind. Due to our limited number of sailors, I've left the Dowager Queen at Tidewater Rock for now.

With some new power he gained to commune with the spirits of the dead (who seem to frequently haunt his presence), Varnas spoke with the corpse of Isabella. She revealed that the treasure of Mancatcher Cove had technically already been looted, but was found underwater. Had her ship been sunk before she could escape with the plunder? Varnas also learned that there was no "monster of Mancatcher Cove", that it was just a myth, but that a dangerous plant lived on the island.

I copied the map on a parchment. For now, we're keeping the body of Isabella on board, protected from the passage of time by the magic of Sandara. I like not the way Ursus stares at the corpse with a disturbed gleam in his eye. Sometimes, I hear strange things in the night, but I prefer not to think of what this odd young man does with the remains of the sorceress in the shadows of the night. He's begun to wear her deep platinum brooch, but we've not yet noticed any specific power it has bestowed upon him.

Rova 6th, 4711

Damnation, we got caught in a storm! This will delay our voyage some few days...

Rova 8th, 4711

Storm now behind us.
Food supplies running low.
Will have to try and fish more than usual.
Should have enough supplies to make it to Senghor.
Drinking water not an issue thanks to Varnas and Sandara's magic.

Rova 15th, 4711

Arrived at Senghor.

Rova 20th, 4711

Varnas and I have been able to sell all of our recently captured plunder at a good price. We also found a buyer for the Devil's Pallor (after much cleaning).

Rova 26th, 4711

Spending some quality time in Senghor. There are many charming ladies in this place...

Feeling guilty, I have bought a gold and ivory bracelet for my wife.

I believe the notoriety of our crew is starting to spread around this city, as my companions and I are frequently recognized in the streets, in the taverns, and other fine establishments.

Lamashan 4th, 4711

Left Senghor. The crew enjoyed the rest, but they're now eager for battle. We recruited 26 new crew members to replace those who perished in the battle against the Kuru.

I bought a magical cloak that will protect me from unnatural attacks, as well an enchanted girdle that increases my already considerable strength. Varnas bought a similar cloak and a magical falchion.

Lamashan 13th, 4711

We are back at Tidewater Rock. Things are peaceful here; there have been no further sahuagin attacks. Things are also safe at Lubeck. The new inhabitants have also begun settling deeper inland, where better crops can be grown. They demolished some of the uglier/filthier buildings in Lubeck.

Now we've rested enough. It is time for some action! We've decided that we would investigate the mystery of Mancatcher Cove. We leave on the morrow. My stay with my lovely wife will be short, alas, but a captain's duty is to its crew first and foremost.

The Tale of Captain Cyrus Wolf

Upon further examination of Isabella's tattoos, and deeper reflection, Ursus recognized the islands as Pangalley Atoll in the Shackles.

I also recalled the tale of Captain Cyrus Wolf, who had been a dreaded Free Captain around a hundred years ago; one who was rumored to have mastery over the Dark Arts. He raided many outposts on the coast of Garund, the most notorious of which was the city of Astentar in Thuvia; he also sank half the Thuvian fleet when it was sent to apprehend him. He laughed in the face of the other Free Captains when they offered him the position of Hurricane King, considering himself above that.

Some thirty years later, he attacked a treasure fleet from Katapesh and took control of its shipment: the content of an entire gold mine. It is said that he divided the treasure in several parts, all hidden in different places. Some have remained lost until now; some were rumored to have already been found and looted over the decades.

We now believe that the map on Isabella's back (likely drawn around 10 years ago, when she was a teenager) shows the location of Mancatcher Cove, one of Cyrus Wolf's treasure caches. The old captain allegedly placed a deadly guardian to watch over his treasure on this remote, uninhabited island. This creature is known only as "The Beast of Mancatcher Cove".

It is said that Cyrus Wolf died not long after dividing his treasure. He was captured by some of his prior victims, who sought revenge. They tortured him to glean the location of his treasure, but he never revealed anything. Of all those known to have attempted to find the treasure of Mancatcher Cove, none ever returned.

We also wondered who had put that map on Isabella's back, and why. Why tattoo it on the back of a young girl, rather than simply placing it on a more conventional map? And who had done it? Was Isabella somehow related to Cyrus Wolf?

Regarding the rest of the tattoo, I recognized from the verses some allusions to Pharasma (goddess of death) and Sarenrae (goddess of the sun). A sun was also shown to the right; to the east; it seemed to represent a rising sun, matching "the Dawnflower's first kiss". But what was it we were supposed to spy at the rising of the sun? What was the grave lady's prized tooth? I did not recall any tales regarding any of Pharasma's teeth.

As for the old king and the captain... I remembered that Cyrus Wolf had lost an eye, but which one was it? The large monstrous eye at the top of the map was also mysterious: did it symbolize the Beast of Mancatcher Cove?

Get off my island!

I was prompt to shout out loud to inform everyone of the demise of the tattooed sorceress. The enemy pirates - who had lost at least ten of their numbers to the merciless blades of Royster, Varnas and Ursus futilely trying to climb up to the second floor, fled back to their ships and disappeared into the night.

I tied up, gagged and blindfolded my enemy - whose state had stabilized despite her loss of blood. I also removed anything she carried or wore that could be dangerous. Then Varnas and I healed the wounded - I was in fact the worst off by far, then Agasta, and as for the others, only Royster had been lightly wounded. We hurried to ensure that no other enemies had infiltrated the tower, but no: the servants were all safe. As for the two guards at the top of the tower, both were badly wounded and unconscious. After reviving them, we learned that the woman and the mephit had appeared up there and made short work of them. Seemingly, the endless stream of pirates coming up from the ground floor had only been a distraction, as their captain, the tattooed woman, had planned on wiping us all out with her magic. She made a valiant attempt at it.

We identified her as Isabella "Inkskin" Locke, a pirate captain notorious for her ruthlessness. Her ship was named the Thresher. Among her belongings, I claimed her magical rapier, Varnas took her headband and Ursus her amulet. She also carried an astrolabe that will be most useful when it comes to navigation. It can also allow us to see through illusions for some time.

But more disturbing was a non-magical piece of jewelry she wore: a shark-shaped brooch made of deep platinum... had this accursed item warped her mind as it had affected Ursus not so long ago?

When Isabella regained consciousness, we warily gathered around her and I used my magic to read her thoughts. All I had time to glean was a sense of rage and "they won't get away with it", and then she broke a false tooth and killed herself with the dose of poison within. Not even the rangers' magic was able to delay the instantaneous effects of the poison.

As we discussed disposing of her corpse, I noticed that Ursus was eyeing it in a most disturbing way. I assumed at first that his cannibalism had been replaced by a different forbidden vice (necrophilia), but he in fact exclaimed that he recognized the patterns on her back as forming a map of some of the Shackles' islands. Below them were written these words on the dead woman's skin:

"From Blueblight's embrace
Spy the Grave Lady's prized tooth
With the Dawnflower's first kiss
Climb the Captain's wayward orb
To claim Old King's hoard."

Huh...

(Ding! The characters rise to level 6!)

Rova 1st, 4711

Intruders

In the middle of the night between Arodus 31st and Rova 1st, I was awakened, like all those sleeping inside Tidewater Rock's tower, by the sound of a sentinel's horn. We had left some guards aboard the True Wind and atop the tower as well. They spied intruders approaching the tower in the dark of the night - but alas, it only gave us a short amount of time to get ready, only enough to grab our weapons and don our armors. It was the new moon, and fog had risen over the waters, so visibility was quite poor.

We heard the sound of an explosion coming from downstairs, followed by harsh voices and shouts. We knew that some kind of magic had been used to blast open the main door into the tower. A force of enemies - a rival pirate crew, large in numbers, began pouring into the first floor of the tower. Our guards - five men led by Royster McCleagh - as well as Granam, Varnas and Ursus, waited on the second floor, having pulled up the ladder, and waiting for the invaders to painfully make their way up to us. We had the advantage of that highly defensible position, that's for sure. I hurried down from the fourth-floor bedroom I shared with Agasta. My wife came with me, wearing a chain shirt and carrying a cutlass and a heavy crossbow. Once we reached the second floor, though, we found it quite crowded. Tidewater Rock isn't a big place. Agasta and I remained on the stairs leading up to the third floor and waited for the opportune time to join the fight.

The first few pirates climbed up once a new ladder was put in place by the attackers. They were swiftly cut down, mostly thanks to Royster McCleagh and his massive two-handed sword. Ursus and Varnas also provided some assistance in keeping the bottleneck secure. None of the enemies made it past them. Thus far, Agasta and I had no room to play a part in the fight.

It all changed in an instant when an imp-like creature appeared at the top of the stairs behind us and blasted Agasta with a magical ray. I hurried to defend her and smote the creature with a single blow of my rapier. My victory was short-lived, though, as my wife and I were immediately afterward struck by a lightning bolt, also originating from higher up the stairs. A young woman materialized out of invisibility: her hair was dark, and her barely-clothed body was covered in tattoos. Her youthful beauty was marred only by the scornful glare of pure evil she cast down at us.

I hurried up the stairs and stabbed her with my rapier as Agasta retreated toward the safety of the guardroom: she had been badly wounded by the lightning bolt. Though my opponent was lithe and attractive, I felt a profound hatred toward this intruder who dared to break into my tower into the dead of the night and threaten my life and that of my wife.

Unfortunately, I was in a tricky situation: the stairs were cramped, and I faced this mysterious sorceress alone. She wielded powers the likes of which we'd never encountered before. With a few sibilant words, she summoned a huge globe of water that completely engulfed me and threatened to throw me back down the stairs. It also blocked the way for any rescuers, such as Granam, who'd tried to come to my defence.

Quick as the wind, I was able to grab hold of a metal sconce in the wall before the waters bore me away. Heaving with all my might, I jumped out of the globe of water and landed behind the young woman, higher up the stairs. She snarled another incantation as she turned to face me, and struck me with five Magic Missiles. To add to my predicament, her tattoos appeared magical in nature, as a large snake detached itself from her very skin and threatened me with its bite.

Things looked quite dire by then: I was badly hurt by her varied forms eldritch offensive. But I did not give up... I was the master of this place, after all!

"This night will always be remembered as the night that you almost killed Captain Akavar Whisperquill!" I claimed defiantly.

And with that, I stabbed her in the chest!

She was strong, oh, she was strong: she did not go down that easily, but now, a sizable rivulet of blood covered part of her tattoos. Chanting another dark incantation, she called upon some sort of fell necromantic power, and her snake tried to bite me with fangs that glistened with a shadowy menace. I was fast, though, and eluded the reptile as I stabbed down again with my magical rapier - almost gouging out one of my enemy's eyes!

She tried to strike me with her own rapier, but I parried every blow. She distracted me, though - alas! - and her snake finally managed to bite my leg. I immediately felt the power of necromancy sap the very life from my limb, and transfer it to the sorceress, healing her somewhat. But, damn that wench, Besmara smiled upon me that night, and her spell only slowed me down a little bit!

"See you in hell!" I growled as I feinted to the left, only to quickly strike to the right... penetrating past her defences and stabbing her deep in the abdomen. Her eyes widened in pain and surprise, and then she collapsed clumsily on the stairs. Her snake vanished at the same time.

It had come close... She had almost killed me... But just almost.

Arodus 17th, 4711

The Kuru

Yesterday, we sold the prisoners from the Devil's Pallor at Goatshead. In exchange, we were able to buy nearly enough food and supplies to last our crew, as well as the inhabitants of Tidewater Rock, for two months. Still being a bit short on food compared to what we had aimed for, we were directed toward a Mwangi village on the main coast. We went there today and found the locals quite pleasant and easy to trade with. Their leader was an aged shaman named Variay.

As luck would have it, the village was assaulted during our brief stay there by around sixty dark-skinned savages with sharp teeth: those not-quite-human beings were seemingly called the Kuru. They rushed toward the village from the nearby jungle: no advance warning of their arrival had reached us, leading us to believe that they had slain all of the village's hunters. Unfortunately for the villagers, there were no warriors among them to provide any kind of defence, so it fell to my crew to protect their lives. Please do not be led to the false conclusion that we valiantly put our lives at risk to protect these humble folk: rather, we did not have time to return aboard our ships and sail away before the barbarians were upon us.

The fight was particularly bloody, as the attackers fought with great ferocity, and to the death. My usual comrades and I faced their four greatest warriors. Ursus and I were severely wounded, but my magic and that of Varnas kept us alive. One by one, we felled the villains until they were all dead. Meanwhile, the rest of my crew, now quite battle-hardened, got the upper hand on the jungle savages, but at a heavy cost: 14 among us were slain that day.

Once the wounded had been healed and the villagers' safety had been insured, we spoke with old Variay. We were told that the Kuru live in a city deep inside the Mwangi jungle, under the leadership of a legendary warrior named Ogot-Hai, a being blessed with mysterious powers. They worship a demonic worm-like entity named the Blood Queen. Now, Variay and his people worry that more warriors will come from the jungle-city of Mayaxatl and will finish what the sixty butchers failed to accomplish today. They fear that it is not safe for them to remain.

I made them a proposal: they will come with us aboard the True Wind and the Devil's Pallor, and will settle on the island of Ernakulam, where sits Lubeck, the late Gortus Svald's lair. There, they should be safe from the Kuru. After some discussions with the other elders of the village, Variay accepted.

I believe this is a winning solution for all, since I had been thinking about trying to repopulate the islands neighbouring Tidewater Rock...

Arodus 18th, 4711

Sailing away

Today, we finished loading the 150 or so villagers (men, women, children, elders) as well as their most precious belongings and cattle... Our two ships are now quite crowded, but we've only got a few days of sailing ahead of us with this noisy and smelly burden.

Once we were far enough from the shore, we performed a funeral for our fallen comrades, and committed their bodies to the sea. Sandara, Varnas and I led the ceremony, praying for Besmara to watch over their souls.

Arodus 24th, 4711

A new place to live

Finally, we reached the island of Ernakulam! For now, we set ashore the villagers and their belongings at Lubeck, but in the coming days, they will scout out the island and perhaps find a spot that is more to their liking to build their new homes. With time, they will settle the island and begin growing crops. Old Variay is wise, and gifted with potent magic that can help his people when it comes to agriculture.

Those people are now under my protection: we will strive to keep them safe, and in turn, they will provide us with food and other goods that we will require upon our visits there. This is, I dare to hope, the beginning of a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Arodus 25th, 4711

Honey, I'm home!

It is with some relief that we returned to Tidewater Rock today. Agasta seemed happy to see me, especially after I gave her the golden necklace I had purchased for her at Goatshead. There was some apprehension in the tower, though, and we learned that the previous day, at dusk, one of the Lubeck girls was attacked by a group of sahuagins as she watched over the local flock of sheep. The girl suffered several wounds from the fish-men, but was saved when one of the tower guards rushed to protect her. The unfortunate soldier perished, but his sacrifice allowed the girl to run to the safety of the tower.

Sandara was able to cleanse the girl's wounds from their infection, and then I did the rest of the job with my healing magic.

Suspiciously, tonight at dusk, when I was on the docks with Varnas, Granam and Ursus, we were beset by eight more of these same fish-like humanoids. We made short work of them, suffering only minor wounds, and took shelter within the fortress. But this seems quite ominous: two attacks in two days... ? Especially given that the inhabitants of the tower have assured us that sahuagins have never attacked the tower in the last twelve years...

On a lighter note, the evening ended quite well for me, as my lovely wife was grateful for her gift.

Very... grateful...

Arodus 31st, 4711

A menace from Mayaxatl

It has been one week now since the sahuagin attack, and although we've remained vigilant, no sign of them has been seen. Perhaps they learned their lesson when we killed a bunch of them? Or should we keep on worrying about a sinister plot?

According to Granam, they are nocturnal creatures, so at least day-time affords us some respite. We've visited the new settlers of Ernakulam, and they've fortunately not been attacked. Wouldn't it have been ironic if they'd left their homes to avoid the Kuru, only to be wiped out by a large force of sahuagins?

In the past days, Agasta has consulted a voluminous tome that once belonged to her previous husband, but which she's kept updated over the years. In there, she found references to Ogot-Hai, the master of the Kuru, a mysterious hero who trained the Kuru and united them, around five years ago. Until then, they had been hunted nearly to extinction by the pirates of the Shackles. How unfortunate that our peers did not perform a slightly more thorough job! Now, my wife and I wonder if settlements on the main land are also at risk, such as Rickety Squib, or even Port Peril itself?

About Mayaxatl, the lost city of the Kuru, Agasta found this ominous saying in her book: "To find it, follow the blood in the rivers."

The truth comes from the mouth of pirates. They may behave fancy and all, those pathfinders, but they are naught but tomb robbers, I tell ya.

Indeed, yet when you think about it, what else is there to do in a tomb, besides robbing it?

Hmm... robbing tombs... Maybe that's something we could look into at some point...

Arodus 13th, 4711

The Devil's Pallor

After two days of uneventful sailing with clement weather, about halfway between Tidewater Rock and Firegrass Isle, we came upon the site of a one-sided naval battle. A drakkar flying the flag of the Shackles Pirates had severely damaged a sargavan galleon. Just as it was moving in for the kill, the pirate ship positioned itself between us and their quarry: they had clearly caught sight of our ship, the True Wind. It should be noted that we decided to leave our second vessel, the Dowager Queen, docked at Tidewater Rock, along with three crew members who were to stay behind and help Agasta's people to make accommodations for the twenty girls we had just brought there.

In addition to the flag of the Shackles Pirates, the enemy ship bore another flag that I recognized from a recent addition Agasta made in her late husband's nautical heraldry book: that of the villain known as Gortus Svald. It seemed that fortune had smiled upon us, for we'd been hoping to eliminate this cumbersome individual from the region as soon as possible.

We first pretended to leave the area, and the hobgoblin's crew fell for the simple ruse, turning their attention toward their prey, the Sea Shanty. We quickly sailed toward their ship and boarded it while they were busy fighting the few warriors aboard the sargavan vessel. A brutal fight ensued. Gortus Svald met me and my companions with a big, brutish hobgoblin at his side. He suffered several nasty wounds caused by Granam's arrows, and he was able to slash me twice with his poisoned falcata, but I landed one final telling blow against him with my rapier, and the bastard fell at my feet. His acolyte, though he was able to wound Ursus, was also vanquished.

Things looked dire at first for our crew, for Svald's men were equal in numbers, but more experienced. With my help and that of Ursus, Granam and Varnas, though, the tables were turned, and we ended up solidly beating our enemies. We lost 8 of our men, but cost them 23 of their own. Once the others surrendered, I was able to sway 18 of them to join us; the others were sent, shackled, to the brig, to be dealt with later. Svald and his first mate were keelhauled, a fitting end for those child-molesting abominations.

My crew liberated Gortus Svald's ship, the Devil's Pallor, from its precious cargo (mostly weapons), and we provided a similar service for the Sea Shanty (gaining some wool and dried fruit), whose twelve surviving sailors lacked the courage and the numbers to oppose us. We left them with some food and water, knowing they would need around two days to repair their ship enough to be able to continue their travel toward Port Peril (or return empty-handed to Sargava, if they so desired). Once again, I divided the crew in two and added another vessel to my fleet: the Devil's Pallor. I made sure to instruct the Sargavans to inform their masters that Gortus Svald had broken his oath as a Free Pirate by attacking their ship.

Gortus's crew mostly consisted of half-orcs and half-goblins, foul curs who now languished in our brig. The humans who'd been among them comprised most of those who had joined our ranks, having grown tired of the evil humanoids' behavior and disgusting lack of hygiene.

Arodus 16th, 4711

Firegrass Isle

Three days later, we reached Goatshead, the main settlement on Firegrass Isle. It was a lawless place, home to some five hundred souls. The main things it had to offer to travelers was a source of fresh water and a harbor that provided shelter from the elements. The town contained three taverns, two inns and several large warehouses. Though it didn't offer as good prices as Senghor, it was one of the only places where one could sell stolen cargo from Sargava without traveling an enormous distance (as selling such goods is illegal in the Shackles due to their pact of non-aggression with Sargava). Among the locals, we saw several odd individuals that I understood to be Pathfinders, part explorers, part adventurers, part tomb robbers.

My comrades and I entered an inn whose sign proudly proclaimed: "No lawz, no lords, evry won is hez oon mastr. We ar the lass baschun of freedym". I briefly wondered if we'd missed the last bastion of correct spelling somewhere on the way here. Inside, we heard some local rumors and learned the identities of the three current pirate captains ruling the area:
- Sweet William Poor (an unpleasant man who constantly chewed on a sugar cane), captain of the Red Courage.
- Bent Beak Channey (whose nose was allegedly broken over twenty times in his career), captain of the Bold Folly.
- Dancing Darla Madile (a devout worshipper of Besmara), captain of Besmara Winks.

Arodus 11th, 4711

The tormentors of Lubeck

I was very tired this morning due to my almost-sleepless night with my new wife. Nevertheless, a captain's duty is never done, and my crew was getting restless, so we sailed toward the little port of Lubeck in the morning: the den of the hobgoblin Gortus Svald, one of the Free Captains of the Shackles.

As we sailed there, my companions and I discussed the neighbouring points of interest, here in the southern region of the Shackles:
- Taldas Isle, where live the aristocracy of the Shackles, exiles from the immense empire in decline, Taldor. Its capital is Little Oppara and it is ruled jointly by two Pirate Lords, both of them women.
- Mgange Cove, the bastion of the juju pirates: humans of Mwangi ethnicity who form a juju cult. Its capital is Ngozu, around 700 to 800 inhabitants.
- Firegrass Isle, where around 200 years ago, four chelish ships attacked a pirate ship that blew itself up. Only one of the chelish vessels survived the blast. This area is currently ruled by a trio of pirates who do not recognize the authority of the Hurricane King, and as such, they are pariahs among the pirates of the Shackles. They also don't hesitate to prey on Sargavan merchant vessels. Yet, since we are not among the Pirates of the Shackles, we would be safer trading with them rather than venturing in the Shackles, where we would be prey for any of the Pirate Lords. The capital of that area is Goatshead, with 500-600 inhabitants.

In comparison, the islands that form the little "triangle" close to Tidewater Rock, Smythee's former holdings, now total barely 200 inhabitants altogether.

Upon reaching Lubeck, the inhabitants were nowhere to be seen. After landing and looking around, we found many of them hiding in a secret cellar of the largest building. All of them were human girls, from infants to around twenty years of age. They seemed fearful and badly mistreated. We soon understood that they were being kept in squalid conditions by Gortus and his men. They had surely all been gained via raiding, and only the older ones were able to formulate intelligible speech in the tongue of the Shackles: the others could only speak a strange gibberish that sounded much more like the tongue of goblins.

We tried to gather as much information as we could from the older girls. We learned that this operation had been going on for about ten years. There were about twenty to thirty girls in the village, with three bosuns currently overseeing them in Gortus's absence: he had left three weeks ago, and the girls didn't know when he'd come back.

The bosuns were nowhere to be seen, for they had fled the village upon spying our approach. Leaving the girls in the care of the rest of our crew (giving strict and clear instructions that they were not to be mistreated), we followed the tracks left behind by the fleeing dastards. Granam and Ursus were thus able to lead us to a shelter hidden deep in the woods. Thankfully, the fools had not concealed their tracks at all.

We dropped down one by one from the trap door on the ceiling of the building and fought the three villains inside. One was a burly fellow who fought dirty; the others were half-elves (egad!) who seemed to possess some sort of bardic magic. But they were no match for us: Ursus pulverized the skull of the human with his morning star, and then the rest of us swiftly dispatched the other two. We were able to save them for later questioning. Among their belongings were some magical potions and a magical rapier that I claimed for my own: a much better weapon than the one I'd been wielding until now!

We later came back to the village with our two bloodied captives. The women seemed frightened by them even though they had been defeated. Varnas questioned them without much success, but it didn't matter, because I spied on their very thoughts with my magic. I saw within their minds the images of several pirate lords: the Hurricane King, the Master of Gales, Arronax Endimyon, a woman who reminded me a bit of Sandara, a large man with a bushy beard and a turban, a halfling... I understood that Gortus had gone to Port Peril to meet with the Hurricane King and the Pirate Lords. He was expected back here in one to two weeks.

The content of the bosuns' minds was horrendous: I could scarcely believe that half-elves could become such abominable beings. The way they regarded their captives, and even Sandara who stood nearby, made me nauseous. After briefly conferring with my allies, we slit their throats. Despite all the blood, it seemed to bring a measure of reassurance to the young girls of Lubeck.

- - -

It is now evening. We've brought all the girls to Tidewater Rock with us. Agasta was, of course, taken aback by this unexpected cargo. At least she won't be able to complain that I'm predictable!

For now, I trust that the girls will be much better treated in Tidewater Rock than where they've lived for the past ten years. But keeping them fed will be a challenge: there aren't enough resources at Tidewater Rock to feed so many mouths, not yet anyway. We'll have to bring back food... perhaps from Firegrass Isle?

Arodus 10th, 4711

Tying the knot

As her dowry, Agasta offered me two items that had once belonged to her husband, which he had fortuitously (for us) left behind when he had had sailed away to face captain Antiochius in battle. The first is a ponderous breastplate of blue color, decorated with wave motifs. This magical armor allows its wearer to walk upon the waves. Though it is surely useful, I have no desire to weigh myself down with such a bulky piece of equipment, and therefore I let my friend Ursus wear it for now. One has to remember, after all, that my marriage to Agasta is only to last for one year, and that she'll expect her goodies to be returned to her at the end of the arrangement.

The second item is called a "farglass", a telescope of magical properties that allows one to spy on a location up to ten miles away. Over the past few days, while Agasta and her people were preparing the wedding, my crew and I circled the island where Gortus Svald makes his lair. The little village is not densely populated, but there are many trees on this island, making it an excellent source of lumber. Gortus's ship was currently not docked there; he must be at sea. We decided to attack him at a later date, when he would come back from a raid to his base, unaware of the danger awaiting him. Though his crew is more experienced in battle than ours, we believe the element of surprise could give enough of an edge to claim victory.

Today, the wedding took place. It was a simple affair, given the remoteness of Tidewater Rock. After dinner, I was taken hold of by the boisterous crowd and promptly stripped of my clothes, only to be tossed into the room where Agasta and I were to consummate our marriage. She waited for me there, and as soon as I appeared, she fell upon me, driven nearly mad by her many years of chaste isolation. I did what I could to keep up with her, but the woman was a frantic beast, abusing me with her overwhelming lust. Yet I regret nothing... This was definitely a memorable night...

Arodus 5th, 4711

The Future Mrs. Whisperquill

We spent the night at sea, near Tidewater Rock, for we knew better than to try the dangerous approach among the reefs in the dark. When morning came, some members of our crew confirmed our suspicions: there were no remains of the Deathknell at the bottom of the sea. So it seems indeed that we shall meet Captain Pilk again.

We prudently approached Tidewater Rock in the morning. The denizens asked us to give them a hostage as a sign of good faith, and our dear old Conchobhar got volunteered for the task. Once we set foot on the island, the guards of the tower gave us a brief tour and introduced them to their mistress, Lady Agasta Smithy. Little did I know at the time that she was destined to become named Mrs Whisperquill. Agasta was of Galtan origin, having had to flee her mother country at a young age for being cursed with a noble birth. She carried herself with elegance and poise, though one could see that her years of isolation had made her blunt in her manner of speech. Of slightly above average height for a human woman, her hair was golden and she was perhaps between thirty-five and forty years of age. Alas, though such an age is still considered juvenile among my people, as a human Agasta was already beyond the time of her youth. Once could tell that she had once been a great beauty, and she still was attractive, but we could see that her best years were behind her.

We had the chance to talk during the day, and even more at dinner. We enquired as to their situation, but it seemed that the people of Tidewater Rock survived quite nicely despite their isolation. They cultivated some vegetables on the island, and could also fish. We were introduced to the rest of the tower's staff, including its guard captain, one Roster McLigg. There were eight guards; two servants and their grandson, of teenage years; as well as a simpleton. All were of the human race. They seemed quite loyal to Agasta, and only the young boy asked to join our crew, where he may serve as a cabin boy.

Agasta described to us the holdings that had belonged to her late husband over ten years ago. Some were now under the control of a Free Captain, a hobgoblin known as Gortus Svald. Although this being did not threatened Agasta and her people, he had the disadvantage of being an obstacle to our control of Tidewater Rock and its holdings. Indeed, if I am to make my claim to become a Free Captain in the future, holding such a renowned location could only play in my favor.

We already began making plans to overthrow Gortus's hold on the region, and Agasta made me an unexpected proposal: a marriage of convenience for a duration of one year, which would solidify our claims to the region if we managed to re-conquer it. I saw a flicker of light in her eyes that could have been mistaken for passion or even love, but I knew instead that she could see that an alliance with me and my companions could only boost her own status. That she would finally have someone to share her bed after all these years, and that this individual would be a charming and muscular elf was surely not something that would sour the deal.

I jested that I had no intention of taking advantage of an innocent young woman like her, being a century older than her, but soon, upon quick reflection, I decided to go along with it. There was something in this woman that intrigued me, beyond her mere beauty, also her tragic history: I too had to flee my place of birth, and I felt that she had a strong tie to the history of the Shackles themselves, having been the wife of a previous Free Captain. Besides, a year is but a fleeting moment in the life of an elf.

For the rest of the evening, I was congratulated and teased by my comrades, and I noticed as well the scowl that the grizzled guard captain Roster McLigg cast in my direction: could it be that he had desired his mistress in secret for all these years; that perhaps he considered that I had taken her from him?

Arodus 4th, 4711

Tidewater Rock

Today we sailed toward the islands at the southern tip of the Shackles: if only we could reach land before nightfall, we might escape the Death Knell's attack. After some time, we identified the closest island as Windward Isle: a fortuitous occurrence, perhaps, for Captain Pegsworthy had stated upon inaugurating the Bearded Whore the old saying: "Good fortune and sure sail await what one can crack Tidewater Rock".

I wasn't sure we'd be able to crack Tidewater Rock tonight, nor that it would be the best approach. The last thing we wanted, assuredly, was to be caught between a ghost ship and a fortress throwing catapult stones at us. We could only prey that the denizens of the citadel would allow us to seek shelter there.

A bit of history: Tidewater Rock was built 200 years ago in an easily defensible harbor by Captain Magna Stormeyes, who rose to power and eventually became the Hurricane Queen for some time. Upon her demise, her first mate (Gerta Frone, captain of the "Cocksure") took control of Tidewater Rock, now grown to the size of a small port.

And thus, for decades, Tidewater Rock brought power and fame to whoever controlled it. Its rulership changed hands many times, for human lives are short and fraught with peril. Yet when a peace agreement was reached between the Pirates of the Shackles and the nation of Sargava to the south, predations in these southern waters greatly diminished in magnitude and frequency, and due to this, Tidewater Rock shrank in importance to a mere shadow of its former glory.

Ten years ago, its last lord was Captain Bertram Smithy, one of the Free Captains of the Shackles who also commanded several nearby outposts. A terrible feud pitted Captain Smithy against his nemesis, Captain Arolla Antiochus. Smithy's fleet was ambushed near the Eye of Abendego and was mostly destroyed. Antiochus's ship sank as well, but a comrade of hers took control of the outposts around Tidewater Rock. As luck would have it, this fellow was none other than our old acquaintance, Captain Barnabas Harrigan.

Only Tidewater Rock itself resisted Harrigan's takeover: it was still controlled by the late Bertram Smithy's wife, Agatha. Though she remained in control of the fortress, she had no ship, and so it is believed that she and her retainers have remained prisoners of their own tower for the past ten years, at the center of a ruined domain that doesn't belong to her anymore.

And yet, if a daring captain could claim Tidewater Rock for himself.... It would be a good base of operation.

Should we interpret Captain Pegsworthy's words as a good omen?

Pilk's bell

We sailed north as fast as we could today, but the wind was against us. It was as if the very sea herself was trying to delay us, so we might fall prey to the Death Knell. As evening fell, it became clear that we wouldn't make it: Tidewater Rock was still an hour away, but already we had to light up the hurricane lantern. The sky turned its usual purple light, but darkness soon came, for there were many clouds, and the moon was new. A light rain began to fall, and then we heard it: the clanging of an old rusty bell, farther in the fog...

Soon, we beheld the red lights of Pilk's ship, in front of us. It was impossible, by the rules of navigation, but then it's been said that the undead never play fair...

There was no way to escape contact with the Death Knell, so Ursus maneuvered the True Wind so we wouldn't get rammed, at least. The ghost ship grappled ours, and soon planks were thrown across to our deck, and six foul undead sailors began crossing over toward us. A wave of panic overcame the crew of the True Wind, and most ran for their lives. Ambrose, Sandara and Conchobhar pretended to stay back to defend the others, but in truth they accomplished nothing. Yellow-bellied dogs, all of them! As usual, I could only count on my three most faithful companions (Granam, Ursus and Varnas) to aid me in defending my ship.

While we fought the six zombies, Captain Pilk (now a skeletal aberration wearing what torn shreds remained of his uniform) kept on ringing his bell. When hit by an arrow from Granam, he retaliated with a strange ghostly fist that tried to choke the archer, but thankfully, Granam avoided it.

Soon enough, the zombies were slain, and I crossed over with Ursus and Varnas to take the battle to Pilk himself. But as he kept ringing his bell, new zombies emerged from below deck. As Ursus and Varnas moved to strike at the captain, I covered their rear and engaged the zombies. Meanwhile, Granam kept shooting Captain Pilk. He was in fact the only one among us who was a serious threat to our foe: Ursus and Varnas were soon both affected by Pilk's ghostly hand. Varnas collapsed on deck and nearly died. As for Ursus, he was greatly weakened and was stabbed several times by Pilk's spear. I rushed to aid Varnas, as some zombies were trying to throw him overboard so he would drown.

Then, at last, Granam slew Pilk with a well-aimed arrow, and the zombies vanished. I hurriedly cast a healing spell on Varnas, moments away from his death!

But our worries were not over: the Death Knell was sinking! I ordered the others to cut the grappling lines while I hurried below deck to try and secure something valuable before it was lost to sea. Yet, to my horror, I found below barely more than hundreds and hundreds of skulls. I grabbed what valuables I could from Pilk's past plunders, then hurried back on deck. I jumped aboard the True Wind at the very last moment before the Death Knell disappeared below the waves.

Ursus informed me that there had been nothing precious to loot from Pilk's body: it had disappeared! I cursed our ill luck, as I suddenly remembered old ghost tales with more clarity: it takes more than a simple killing to get rid of a ghost... Will we have to face Captain Pilk again until we join him in death, or find a way to break his curse of undeath?

Arodus 2nd, 4711

Seven days have passed since our taking of the Dowager Queen. I have claimed that ship for my own and have spread out the crew evenly between it and the True Wind. During the past three days, we struggled through a storm; we survived it, but both ships have taken substantial damage. They will have to be repaired at some point.

The storm is behind us today. The atmosphere aboard is more cheerful, for sure, and that has been aided by a larger-than-usual ration of rum distributed by Ambrose. Only the tattered remnants of the storm remain today: strong winds, fog and a lower temperature. Just as the sun was setting tonight, we caught a glimpse of a whaler riding low on the water. We began pursuing it as night fell, but so far, it seems to have eluded us.

Arodus 3rd, 4711

The ghost ship

How strange it is that this whaler, sluggish as it seemed, was able to escape from us... I can not only see such perplexity on the faces of my crew, but I can also read it inside their very minds, for I have recently unlocked the complex power of gazing into other's thoughts... A most useful ability for the captain of a ship.

As we have sailed north for the past few days, we are now back at the very southern tip of the Shackles. We performed some repairs on the ship today, but to fully complete the job, we will have to go to port and get it dry-docked.

A large patch of fog surrounded us after Bloody Hour tonight. Visibility was limited, but through this haze, we heard the unmistakable sound of an old rusty bell ringing. As we strove to investigate the origin of the sound, we beheld the shadowed hulk of the whaling ship we had seen yesterday, but it now became evident that this was no normal whaler: its hull was black with age and rot; its sails hung in tatters; no crew could be seen on board. Its name was the Death Knell...

I recognized this frightful name, for I'd heard of this accursed ship back in Varisia. I shared the tale with my crew: this was a ghost ship driven by captain Jeremiah "Whalebone" Pilk, an undead who sought sailors to add to his zombie crew. Originally, the ship had sailed around Magnimar, hunting the whales of the Steaming Sea. Captain Pilk was quite successful at it, yet there came one season when the whales were harder to hunt. They drew Pilk and his ship further and further from land, for several weeks, until the crew ran out of food and water. But still, mad captain Pilk urged them forth, madly ringing his bell. Some of the crew tried to mutiny against Pilk, but he repelled them. The leader of the turncoats was whipped until Pilk couldn't ring his bell anymore; others were skinned and their fat was melted in the waxworks below deck.

It is said that on the 23rd day, a whale rammed the ship; the hull broke and the ship sank, a good 3000 miles from Magnimar. Since then, the ship has seemingly returned as a ghost ship plying the waters of Golarion... Rumors say that the ship haunts its preys for three nights before striking: and tonight we have seen it a second time...

(The DM stated at the start of this game that a little retcon was to take place: we should actually have run into the damaged fishing vessel (and its sahuagins and deep platinum medallion) a few days before fighting the chelaxians of the Famished Mane.)

Erastus 5th, 4711

A gloom hangs over our ships. For ten days, we've sailed aimlessly, without a prey in sight. A state of melancholy has taken a hold of the crew, and it seems that the gods themselves have forsaken us: Varnas and Sandara report that their magic is weakened, and even the rangers are beginning to notice it. Have we angered Besmara somehow? What could we have done wrong?

Erastus 7th, 4711

We spotted some sails in the distance today, but our prey has eluded us, despite Ursus's best efforts. The pressure over us only seems to deepen. Could it be that the gods are angry at us for choosing to continue on with this life of piracy? But why us? Surely, we are not the worst scum of the sea?

It must be something else...

Some intuition is leading me to be suspicious of that mysterious medallion we found... it was created deep below the sea, forged by the aboleth... Could it be the cause of our curse?

Erastus 13th, 4711

We've returned to Senghor, seeking answers. Morale among the crew is at an all-time low. We've decided to sell the Famished Mane, for profit and to keep things simple in terms of managing the crew, especially given the recent malediction that seems to have befallen us. After some masterful haggling on my part, we obtained a price of 5500 gold pieces for the vessel, as well as 1100 gold pieces for the cargo we took from the chelaxians.

Erastus 18th, 4711

Five days in Senghor have been most fruitful, as I have taken the time to properly spread tales of my crew's exploits throughout the taverns; furthermore, Granam has recruited four new pirates to our cause, bringing our numbers to seventy, including the officers.

Regarding our curse, we sought the counsel of Aelius, an aged chelaxian sage, and of a priest of Cayden Cailean. We learned that the source of our ill luck is indeed the deep platinum medallion that Ursus wears around his neck. Deep platinum apparently has a non-magical property that enables it to absorb the energy and quality of creatures it comes in contact with. It seems that it passed on to Ursus some of the aspects of the sahuagin which previously bore it, but it was not immediately clear what, exactly, Ursus had inherited.

A divination cast by the cleric of Cayden Cailean revealed that we were cursed because a deed of the foulest sort had taken place about the True Wind: someone among the crew feasted on human flesh. Horrified, we began formulating strategies to try and discover which one among our crew could be capable of such an atrocity, but soon enough, Ursus confessed: he was the perpetrator of those acts. We could hardly believe our ears, yet I showed him mercy, as he had been so truthful in admitting his misdeed.

Besides a spell from the priest of Cayden Cailean to cleanse the curse, Ursus needed to atone for his sin. In the bilge of the True Wind, we tied him up and submitted him to twenty whip lashes, a deed executed grimly by Granam. Ursus is a strong man, but he eventually lost consciousness. Alas, as part of the cleansing ritual, we could offer him no magical healing, and it is with a heavy heart that we bore his limp, bleeding body back to his quarters, so he may begin an arduous road to recovery.

Erastus 23rd, 4711

We left Senghor five days ago, and only now is Ursus (stout and healthy fellow that he is) recovered from his wounds without help from magical healing. He will bear the scars of the lashing, but I hope that he learned his lesson and will not indulge in further cannibalism while aboard my ship...

Erastus 26th, 4711

The gods have forgiven us! The priests' magic is back in full force, and the crew's spirit is back to normal. And best of all, we won another naval battle this day! We fought another chelaxian caravel, a beautiful ship by the name of the Dowager Queen. Ursus swiftly caught up with them and rammed them from behind. Our crew jumped aboard the enemy vessel, filled with bloodlust, as Varnas, Ursus, Granam and I fought the officers. One of those was a large brute who wielded a heavy two-handed sword. Fortunately, I had protected myself with illusory Mirror Images, a fact that most likely saved my life, as I was hit several times by the ponderous and deadly blade. With some great help from Granam's arrows, though, the villain fell, and so did his mistress, the captain of the ship. How strange it is that in every ship combat we've done so far, our main opponent was a female...

Another victory for us! And more plunder, this time in the form of gems and grain!

Hurray for the crew of the True Wind and its dashing captain, Akavar Whisperquill!

(OOC: Ding! The characters rise to level 5!)

The Famished Mane

The chelaxian caravel's crew scrambled madly as they finally became aware of our approach, but it was too late, much too late for them to put up much of a fight. The True Wind was hit by only a few glancing missile attacks, and then our crew, fifty strong, surged upon their deck like a screaming tide. Varnas and I used our magic to bolster our warriors' attacks. I rushed toward the stern castle, where I fought the captain of the enemy ship, a dour-faced chelaxian woman armed with a rapier, as well as two of her lieutenants. I fought valiantly and defeated my opponents, with some help from Granam's arrows. Meanwhile, Ursus and Varnas vanquished the other four officers.

We crushed the Chelaxians. By the time the fight was over, we had suffered no casualties, and there were only twelve of our enemies left alive. We took them all as prisoners. The other pirate ship, called the Vorsfang, was already in flames and beyond any hope of salvation, but we did have time to rescue fourteen pirates that the dastardly chelaxians had locked into the hold to die. They were all quite thankful and joined our ranks, bringing our troops to a size of sixty-six! To make things even better, we commandeered the chelaxian vessel, one named the Famished Mane. I assigned a trusted crewman to be its captain, and divided our crew about evenly between the two ships, making sure that my most competent companions of course remained aboard the True Wind with me, along with most of our food supplies to ensure continuing obeisance from those aboard the Famished Mane (perhaps an ominous name, should we somehow become separated...?)

In addition to plunder of a more mundane nature, we found several potions of healing, a well-made rapier that I took as my own, and a magical chain shirt that was given to Ursus.

One odd thing that might be noteworthy is that some crew members reported, after cleaning up the deck of the Famished Mane, that some corpses of our fallen enemies had mysteriously disappeared. Had they in fact still been alive and gone into hiding, or dove overboard? Or was their disappearance the sign of something much more sinister?

Sarenith 25th, 4711

A mysterious derelict

Having learned that the chelaxian soldiers of the Famished Mane had escorted a convoy headed for Sargava, we searched for this easy prey in nearby waters for several days, but had no luck finding them.

Ursus has been acting strange lately: he rarely joins Varnas, Granam and I for dinner anymore, claiming not to be hungry. What's more, the blood stains on his clothes and hands seem to persist, or even to grow, despite the few days that have passed since our battle against the chelaxians.

Today, we came upon the remains of a badly mangled fishing trawler. Its sails flapped loosely and its fishing net was hanging to starboard. No crew could be seen or heard aboard it. I investigated it with my usual comrades and our party soon discovered signs of a recent battle here, but also that the blood stains had been carefully cleaned up afterward. Odd. Venturing below deck, we discovered four fish-men called sahuagins, no doubt the perpetrators of this bizarre butchery. The fight against these villains was swift and quickly ended in our favor. A search of the slowly sinking derelict and of our slain enemies provided only a single item of value: a mysterious and slightly unnerving necklace made of a strange substance somewhat similar in appearance to silver or platinum, but displaying odd streaks of black and bluish hues. Upon our return to the True Wind, none proved able to divine its origin - none, besides the flamboyant gnome Conchobhar, that is.

The wee dandy explained that this piece of jewelry was made of "deep platinum" a substance produced by deep underwater volcanoes and harvested by beings called Aboleths. Granam described those foul creatures as large tentacled fish with mysterious magical powers. Varnas declared that the item shall henceforth be worn by Ursus.

Desnus 24th, 4711

Our first battle went well: with Ursus at the wheel, we easily overtook a sailing ship from Absalom. Its captain, a half-elven woman, was totally ineffective in avoiding us as she headed completely against the wind. As we came in view of our enemies, we felt a moment of doubt: they were half again as many as us. Nevertheless, we boarded them, armed with our weapons and our courage. Conchobhar and I used our magic to enhance the skill of our combatants, and Varnas blessed us in the name of Besmara and other war gods.

Our fight against the enemy ship's officers was swift and one-sided: the giant-sized Varnas and Granam's deadly arrows did so much damage that Ursus and I barely had time to reach the fight before it was over. We then went to help the rest of our crew, who was faring well despite being outnumbered. With us in their midst, the tide of battle turned decidedly in our favor, and before long the enemy crew surrendered.

The Absalom sailors were proud, and only six of the twenty-five of them joined our crew. We agreed to drop the rest of them, minus their money, weapons and other precious belongings, off at our next destination: the metropolis of Senghor. We now have two ships; we only need to keep one, and the other one will surely fetch a nice price. Searching the enemy ship, the True Wind, we found a decent amount of plunder, as well as some extremely well-detailed nautical charts. The legendary skill of Absalom's map-makers can clearly be seen here.

An evening of cheers and heavy drinking followed, to celebrate our first victory as a free crew...

Sarenith 5th, 4711

We arrived at Senghor today; as a free city-state of over twenty-six thousand inhabitants, it is the largest city in the region south of Port Peril. This means that it's the place where we'll get to make the biggest profit in selling the spoils of our battles. The city's authorities turn a blind eye on pirates, as long as we remain mindful of keeping our predations out of their waters.

Sarenith 12th, 4711

A week in Senghor allowed us to sell our captured plunder, as well as the Bearded Whore. Yes, thought it pains us dearly to depart with our customized ship so soon, the threat of Harrigan's ire loomed over us a bit too heavily (especially since many curious eyes so inconveniently observed us at Rickety Squib). We shall instead sail aboard the True Wind, and thereby have no tie with our former overlord. The two ships having roughly the same size, speed and cargo space, all that we're really losing is a catchy name.

With our share of the profits, Varnas and I each bought a suit of magical armor. He opted for a ponderous but very protective breastplate, which should keep him safe as long as he doesn't get thrown overboard. As for myself, I opted for a lighter chain shirt, more akin to the traditional battle-garb of my ancestors.

Varnas managed to coerce 16 courageous souls into joining our ranks, bringing us to a total of 52 able-bodied seamen. Alas, I was not so fortunate, for the dour-faced audiences of Senghor proved wholly uninterested in any sort of tales I could tell them. I believe that our reputation has not grown at all in this city despite our week-long stay.

Today, just before sunset, after we left the city, we saw in the distance a ship that Varnas identified as Cesare and Sybil's ship, though we did not make contact with them.

Sarenith 22nd, 4711

Today, late in the afternoon, we spied a column of smoke to the east. Investigating it, we reached the site of a naval battle where a chelaxian caravel had just defeated a pirate brig. We knew that the dastardly Chelaxians no doubt had an unpleasant fate in mind for our peers, so we decided to use the advantage of surprise. I ordered the crew to launch an attack: I rarely need much of an excuse to fight members of the chelaxian navy.

Gozran 29th, 4711

As good as new

Today was the inauguration of our newly refurbished ship, the Bearded Whore. Captain Pegsworthy consecrated it with a bottle of red wine provided by Rickety Hake. We then left Rickety Squib and its scorching heat behind us. Our direction: Bloodcove. It should take us about ten days to get there. In addition to selling our ill-gotten gains, we plan on hiring more crew members, as with only twenty on board (including Owlbear, who is too stupid to be of any help), we risk not having enough manpower to overtakes our preys, or navigate the ship at all if we suffer too many losses due to battles or accidents.

We've considered the fate of our least favorite crew members: Aretta, Slippery Sly, Narwhal Tate and Jaundiced Jape. We hate them, they hate us, etc. We're faced with basically three options: killing them; selling them as slaves; or letting them go. Killing them would be the simplest and more humane than selling them as slaves, even though we would miss out on about two hundred gold pieces of profit. Letting them go would be even kinder, but we would run the risk of them revealing the true nature of the Bearded Whore, which could find its way back to Captain Harrigan's ears. We'd rather avoid that. After speaking with Aretta at length, we reached a compromise: they'll stay on board and serve for one year as part of the crew, and then be let go freely. By that time, who knows what might happen... They might not survive a year in this dangerous line of work. And in one year, our ship's origin won't be as dangerous a secret as it is today.

Varnas has been much more lively these last few days, seemingly returning to his old loud and very assertive self, as he had been when we first got on board the Wormwood. He had been much more tame over the last few weeks, for some reason. He finally took things to the next level with Sandara, something she had been hoping for a while.

Desnus 4th, 4711

A mother's revenge

Last night, we were all awoken by Sandara's screams coming from the deck. No, they were not due to a kinky new maneuver tried by Varnas: we were truly under attack! We rushed on deck and saw that three bizarre fish-men were attacking Sandara and Aretta, who were on watch that night. Varnas went to help Aretta, who was badly wounded.

We killed the fish-men quickly enough, but then a magical fog appeared on deck. We found its source soon enough: a spellcaster who summoned a wolf. The beast was swiftly slain by Ursus, and then Varnas and I ganged up on the small foe, who was barely visible through the fog. Once she was dead, we finally could tell who it was: none other than the grindilow broodmother, who'd somehow tracked us and hired some help to try and kill us. A bold plan, but she had ultimately failed. She could now be at peace with her oversized son in the grindilow afterlife.

Desnus 9th, 4711

We reached Bloodcove today, this small city at the base of a giant tree. It is heavily controlled by the notorious Aspis Consortium. We'll see if we can find some hardy sailors here.

Desnus 13th, 4711

The last few days have been very productive: we've sold our loot and hired eleven new crew members. I've also had the chance to tell some tales about our combats in various taverns, in the hope that our reputation will begin to spread in the area.

Gozran 26th, 4711

The wasps

A few more days have passed uneventfully here in Rickety Squib. I envy Granam and Ursus, whose newly developed powers over nature have enabled them to cast protective spells to withstand the heat; alas, they have only the ability to protect themselves in this way, for now.

Today, death was on the menu in addition to the sweltering heat. A flight of horse-sized wasps attacked Rickety Squib, possibly driven out of their caves by the drought. My companions and I fought three of them at first. Ursus and I got stung once each, but the wounds were only minor. The insects' poison made my left arm somewhat numb for the rest of the day, but it could have been a lot worse. Poor Varnas was stung several times, and had to resort to frantic healing to save his own life. He miraculously resisted most of the poison injected in his body by the flying vermin.

After an intense combat, we bested the three giant wasps and took refuge near a building. Our respite was short, however, for soon we heard and beheld a young woman being threatened by two more of the deadly flyers. We ran to her aid and saved her, but not without suffering a few more painful stings.

Eventually, the remaining wasps flew away. Around twenty of them had attacked the village, and among everyone present, we were the only ones who had managed to kill any of them. Several villagers were dead, others were paralyzed, and four were missing. We realized with horror that they had likely been taken to the wasps' abode, where they would be eaten alive from the inside by the wasps' larvae...

Of more pressing concern was the chelaxian galley that had unexpectedly docked close by during the commotion.

"Impossible!" exclaimed Ursus, "How could they have moved in so fast?"

Thankfully, what came out of the ship (named the Strix) wasn't a battalion of chelaxian soldiers, but rather, the crew of the notorious Andoran pirate, Captain Pegsworthy. They had captured the chelaxian vessel and had come to Rickety Squib to get it altered, just like us. As luck would have it, captain Pegsworthy saw Man's Promise, saw its name, and was already aware of its belonging to Captain Harrigan. Things don't seem so bleak, however, because he seems like a rather nice chap. I'm sure things will be fine.

As it is a customary sign of good luck to get one's ship named by another captain, we asked him for input, and he suggested the name "The Bearded Whore" to replace "Man's Promise". We decided to go with it and placed an order for a squat, bearded female dwarf figurehead.

When questioned more thoroughly by Ursus regarding Captain Pegsworthy's inexplicably swift and surprising arrival at the docks, Rickety Hake mused that something must have happened to the lookout, Lyle Godwin, who's usually stationed at a camouflaged tower at the entrance of the estuary. Calling on our bravery and good will once again, old Hake asked us to go investigate Lyle's whereabouts (in exchange for a rebate on the work being done on the Bearded Whore).

We obliged, and ventured into the jungle despite our wounds and the numbness Varnas and I still felt from the poison. A two-hour hike through the suffocating atmosphere of the jungle was made more interesting by the appearance of two very territorial boars, who did not present as much of a challenge as one might think - let's just say we'll be eating bacon tonight.

As we neared the tower, a brightly colored parrot began circling around us, cawing "Shooo, fly, don't bother me!" over and over again. We went up the ladder and into the tower, and just as we had feared, we found the corpse of old Lyle up there. He had obviously been stung by a giant wasp, but had perhaps been allergic to the venom, for his skin was terribly blackened and bloated. Searching the premises, we found his weapon, a magical morning star that Ursus claimed as his own. Old Lyle sure won't need it anymore. We carried his corpse all the way back to Rickety Squib, with the chatty parrot in tow. There, the town's druid confirmed our suspicions regarding Lyle's death, and she adopted the parrot as her new pet.

Gozran 23rd, 4711

The naga

Today we had to fight more than just the heat; today, our adventures caught up with us. Just as we joined a group of villagers for a friendly game of nine-pins, we became aware of an unlucky individual who had fallen into the brownish, tepid water of the bay. Before he could come back ashore, he was attacked by a deadly ophidian horror that Ursus identified as a water naga - surely one of those who dwell upstream from Rickety Squib.

We bravely came to the unfortunate fellow's aid, but we nearly lost our lives in the battle. None of us wore any armor, so Ursus and Varnas, who jumped into the water, both nearly died because of the creature's poisonous bite. Granam and I stayed on the dock and shot arrows. I used my magic to bolster our attacks. Granam hit with several arrows, badly wounding the reptile; but alas, the naga had magic at its disposal in addition to venomous fangs, and it magically compelled Granam to leave the fight for several hours.

Near the end of the battle, Ursus fell unconscious into the water, and Varnas was poisoned right to the brink of death. Owlbear came to join us, screaming wildly. He jumped into the water and struck the naga with his club. Varnas then sliced our enemy with his dagger, and I finished it off with an arrow. We had killed it - but nearly at the price of Ursus and Varnas's lives.

Ursus was brought back on the docks and revived, and then Varnas, Sandara and I used our healing magic to heal most of the damage the poisonous naga had done.

Let us hope that we won't run into more than one of those at a time!

On the bright side, our courageous actions have endeared us to the locals, and Rickety Hake has promised a rebate on his work on our ship.

Gozran 22nd, 4711

The oracle

As I stood on the docks, watching Cesare and Sybil's ship disappear in the distance, I recalled a brief conversation I'd overheard the previous night on my way to join the charming lady from the other ship's crew. I hadn't seen the two people talking, as the door to their room was merely ajar, but I had recognized Cesare's voice as one of them - and he was much less drunk than he had appeared earlier in the night. I guess it had all been an act. The other voice was cold and feminine - but it wasn't Sybil's. They mentioned some good indications, how they had found Rickety Squib after their ship was damaged not only by the storm, but also in a naval battle in which they had rammed into a pirate ship. I assumed they had won that battle. Cesare seemed to have little respect for pirates, especially their king, to which he kept referring as Kerdak Bonehead.

I heard some reproachful tension in the woman's voice as she addressed Cesare. But the young man praised her: "As you foresaw, we made contact with a group of young pirates who are not yet Free Captains."

Before I could hear more, someone appeared in the hallway and I had to stop eavesdropping. As I related this fragment of a conversation to Ursa, he was gripped by a strong impression that I'd heard something of the utmost importance. He urged me to try and locate the cold-voiced woman, even though I tried to explain to him that she had most likely sailed away with Cesare. Indeed, it seems unlikely that she's an inhabitant of Rickety Squib.

Ursa seemed offended that I didn't share his delusional obsession with the woman's portents. In addition, he was plagued by yet more indecision regarding his name. As it turns out, he realized that "Ursa" is actually the feminine version of the name meaning "bear", and so he now changed his name to "Ursus Major Ring". Now, he's considering dropping his surname of "Ring" entirely, as it seems to bring back painful memories of the times when he'd found himself as the prettiest boy aboard a ship crewed only by men, on a long and dreary voyage at sea. Our friend's past seems shady indeed, and the less we know about it, the better.

The heat is almost unbearable in this place. Have the gods cursed Rickety Squib with this drought? I suggested that the locals build a shrine to Gozreh, god/goddess of winds and waves, in an attempt to gain his/her favor and avoid this kind of predicament in the future.

Regarding our crew, I'm continuing to have discussions with those among them who used to be our foes. I believe there is some hope to win over Maheem, Conchobhar, Badger and Shivikah, but none regarding Aretta, Jaundiced Jape, Narwhal Tate and that psychopath, Slippery Sly Lonegan. Those four are rotten to the core.

Rickety Hake and his team have started to refurbish Man's Promise. They should be at it for a week, which means we've got some time to rest from our recent adventures.

Gozran 21st, 4711

Rickety Squib

We arrived at Rickety Squib this morning: the place was hard to find, hidden behind a spur of land and the thick foliage of the jungle. It is a small port with less than a hundred inhabitants. Rickety Hake himself came on board and took a look at our ship to make an estimate for the job. This small, stooped old human, mostly bald and with bright blue eyes shining in the middle of his leathery, weather-beaten face seems to know what he's doing. We paid him 2000 gold pieces from our loot to take care of the modifications. He told us he'd start tomorrow, as he's finishing up a job today: the other ship in port belongs to a group of Varisian ambassadors on their way to Sargava. Their ship got damaged in the recent storm.

We got the chance to visit the little town during the day. For most of the crew, this was a welcome change, as they hadn't been off the ship in a month. The village's main building is an old mansion that once belonged to a Sargavan noble. Now, its glory is somewhat faded, but it serves as a residence for Rickety Hake. Several hovels surround the larger structure; the dock workers live there. The weather was very hot that day, as it had been for several weeks, as a drought currently affected the region. We heard rumors of a group of nagas (dangerous snake-like creatures with magical powers) living upstream. Apparently, the previous owner of the mansion hadn't been as diplomatic as Rickety Hake, who has some sort of arrangement with them; that probably explains why the Sargavan noble isn't around anymore.

We got the chance to meet the crew of the other ship currently in port, and its captains Sybil and Cesare. Sybil was a strong, raven-haired woman of Chelaxian origin. Her associate Cesare was a younger man with mixed Varisian blood: he was much more pleasant to talk to than the icy Sybil. I learned that they came from Korvosa and had met with the Hurricane King to discuss the terms of an alliance against Cheliax, who seems poised to put a stronger grip on Korvosa, Varisia's most loyal city, but which has been greatly weakened in recent years due to a plague and, as I understand it, the nefarious actions of its previous ruler, Queen Ileosa Arabasti. Now ruled by Queen Hipazia Leroung, member of the group of adventurers who overthrew Ileosa, the city is trying to rebuild and recover its past stability, but seems in a precarious state against would-be invaders.

It seems that Sybil and Cesare's encounter with the Hurricane King hadn't gone well: he probably had refused to aid them, being, according to what they said, more interested in counting his gold coins. Now they were sailing toward Sargava in the hope of gaining their help against Cheliax. That seems unlikely to be fruitful, in my opinion, as Sargava is in exactly the same problem as Korvosa: asking the Free Captains for help in their defence against Cheliax... I doubt they'll somehow be able to give any help to the beleaguered city so very, very far to the north. With Cheliax in between them...

We spent the evening drinking and swapping tales. In fact, there was more swapping taking place, as I spent the rest of the night with a delightful lady from their crew...

=====================================================
BOOK 2: RAIDERS OF THE FEVER SEA
=====================================================

Reorganization

Captain Akavar Whisperquill...

Captain Akavar Whisperquill...

Captain Akavar Whisperquill...

It has a rather nice ring to it, doesn't it?

After some discussion among the crew in the hours that followed Mister Plugg's defeat, we agreed on a new hierarchy aboard the Man's Promise. Strangely enough, nobody really seemed interested in being the ship's captain, so I pretty much found myself in that position by default. I'm sure I have my charming personality to thank for it.

The officers now consist of Varnas as the bosun; Granam will be our master gunner; Ambrose will remain cook as before, and Sandara will be the ship's surgeon, a no-brainer given the potency of her healing magic. Giffer Tibbs will be the quartermaster, and the ship's navigator will be Ursa Major, the most skilled among us all at manoeuvring the ship.

Who is Ursa Major, you might ask? We could say he is "the pirate formerly known as Hannibal Ring". For some unfathomable reason, our friend decided he wanted a new name, and for several days he considered all sorts of bear-related nicknames: Big Bear, Sea Bear, Father Bear; I really couldn't explain why this man, who has lived in tropical regions his entire life, who's making his living aboard a ship and who has a fascination for the jungle decided to name himself after such a iconic northern animal, but there you have it: he finally decided on Ursa Major.

Similar musings took place as we tried to settle on a new name for Man's Promise: indeed, we were headed for Rickety Squib to change the ship's appearance, so we wouldn't run into trouble for stealing what - by the pirate laws of forceful acquisition - belongs to Captain Harrigan. It's rather evident that the ship's name needs a change as well. Unfortunately, we could only come up with lame suggestions such as "WOMan's promise" for now... We shall ponder the issue more thoroughly in the future.

Ambrose, old sea dog that he is, reminded everyone on board that we're currently in a very vulnerable state: not being affiliated to any Pirate Lord, we're to be considered "prey" in the Shackles. With a tired and somewhat rebellious crew, few weapons and a damaged ship, this could mean trouble. For now, the best way to go seems to change the ship's look and identity, then to make a name for ourselves raiding in the waters south of the Shackles. Once we've gained enough notoriety, then we'll be in a position to approach the Hurricane King and hopefully join the Free Captains.

(OOC: Ding! The characters rise to level 4!)

Taking over

The climactic battle that we'd been expecting since our very first day about the Wormwood took place: we finally fought Mister Plugg and Master Scourge. The great news is that we were victorious! The bad news is that my personal contribution to the battle was nil.

A mere moment after I wondered whether Granam would be able to climb the rope up to the deck of Man's Promise, I somehow, incomprehensibly, lost my grip and fell into the water. Was it because I was suffering from the debilitating effects of the devilfish's poison? Was it because my arms were numb from having carried Jack's corpse over a long distance, then rowed all around the island during the last several hours? Was it for a different reason entirely: perhaps in a parallel universe, a small, bespectacled individual cast a brightly colored die that landed on its worst possible side? I may never know.

What I do know is that, by the time I finally managed to climb up to the deck, the fight was over. With some difficulty, and with the help of Rosie, Ambrose and Sandara, my companions Granam, Hannibal and Varnas killed Crimson, rendered Mister Plugg unconscious, forced Master Scourge to dive overboard in an attempt to flee, and incited Conchobhar to surrender. Granam shot arrows at the fleeing Scourge, finishing him off; I went to fetch him before the sharks claimed him. Meanwhile, despite being outnumbered, our other allies (Tilly Brackett, Ratline Rattsberger, Gifford Tibbs and Barefoot Samms Toppen) fared very well against the rest of our enemies, who surrendered when they saw that Mister Plugg had been vanquished. We'd done it: we had taken control of the ship. I just wish I could say that I actually accomplished anything worthwhile in that regard.

Next, we secured Plugg and Scourge (who were stripped of their belongings and their titles) to ensure they wouldn't escape. We healed the wounded as best we could despite our thoroughly depleted magical energy. We accepted the surrender of our erstwhile enemies: Aretta, Jaundiced Jape, Conchobhar and the others. We'll need everyone we can to make it back to port. As it is, we had a difficult enough time extricating the Man's Promise from the reefs.

Speaking with the rest of the crew, we got the confirmation that Plugg intended to sail to Bloodcove to sell us as slaves. He also wanted to stop at Rickety Squib to change the appearance of the ship: this is what we're planning to do next, and we're sailing in that direction. We've been sailing for a few days now. Varnas and Granam have been very sick, but with Sandara's help, they're slowly recovering.

We divided up the loot of our enemies. I inherited Crimson's bow, a sturdy weapon indeed. A funeral was held for poor Jack Scrimshaw, and for Crimson as well, the only actual casualty of our "forced mutiny". Scourge and Plugg received the fate they deserved: keelhauling. The entire crew seemed to enjoy their final, painful moments; the poetic justice of their punishment.

Return to Man's Promise

It was the middle of the night. We were tired, wounded, some of us were poisoned, some of us were diseased. Our magic was running low. I struggled under the weight of young Jack's corpse. We were surrounded by darkness on this cursed island. But still, we had no time to rest. We had to return to Man's Promise before Mister Plugg decided to leave, an hour before noon! And we were now on the opposite side of the island...

We carefully went down a steep slope, in the dark, until we reached the shore. There, we used the magic of Sandara's tricorn to summon a magical boat. We rowed under the stars, around the southern tip of the island, back to the beach where we had hidden the cutter. We then switched to that ship, converting the first boat back into a tricorn (lest Mister Plugg steal it upon discovering its true value...)

A few more hours of back-breaking rowing later, we finally, at long last, came within sight of Man's Promise. Eager to get back on board despite the villains that awaited us there, we rowed with renewed vigor.

The first crossbow bolt narrowly missed us around eighty feet from the ship.

Whaaaaa.... ?

Flabbergasted by this unexpected turn of events, we soon became beset by projectiles fired from the ship. Varnas was hit several times. A moment of chaos and panic nearly overwhelmed us: what was happening? What should we do? Flee or attack? After considering many likely and less likely scenarios in the span of just a few instants, we finally concluded that Mister Plugg had never meant us to come back aboard with our lives... Upon seeing us coming back, not long before they were ready to leave, he had gathered his most trusted cronies and they were now trying to get rid of us at a distance. Behind them, we could hear sounds of battle: likely, our allies were fighting the rest of our enemies. Guessing from the shadowy shapes taking cover and firing at us, as well as the type of projectiles fired, it seemed that our antagonists were Mister Plugg, Master Scourge, Crimson and Conchobhar.

Varnas and I rowed as fast as our weary, lead-heavy arms would allow us while Granam and Hannibal returned fire (with little success). Suddenly, a high-pitched scream erupted in our midst, and young Sandara collapsed at the bottom of the boat, pierced by an arrow in the chest.

Now they had gone too far!

"You've just shot the ship's healer, you a#*!%%!s!!!!" I roared, losing my temper in the face of this most recent and dire treachery.

More arrows flew as we approached. Once, twice I was grazed by projectiles. One of them had been fired by Plugg himself, I knew it! Would the next one hit me in the throat? In the eye?...

We finally reached the side of the ship, and I hurried to heal Sandara with my wand: fortunately, she still lived, and she used most of what remained of her magic to heal herself fully, as well as those of us who had also been wounded.

"Surrender and we will let you live!" cried out Hannibal defiantly. Our foes predictably did not respond to his threat. "Fine. Then I will destroy you..." added our friend grimly.

Granam and Hannibal secured grappling hooks to the side of Man's Promise, and then we climbed with all haste. Thankfully, our enemies were too caught-up in their blood lust to think of simply cutting the ropes: they kept firing at us.

Hannibal and Varnas were the first up the ropes. I saw Varnas's backside go over the rail, and I followed just behind him. Back on the boat, Sandara and Granam still remained. Granam seemed to be having a lot of trouble going up the rope, and I suddenly remembered how poorly he had performed in the boarding exercise... would he be of any use in this fight at all?...

Escaping the lair

Once the queen's room had been thoroughly looted, we discussed what to do next. I urged my companions to leave this place at once, for we were all weary and wounded. Hannibal agreed, but Granam and Varnas were curious to explore the rest of the dark submerged tunnels, with no regard for our safety. When I insisted on taking Jack's corpse with us so we could give him a proper funeral at sea, Granam sneered and stated that he was already in the sea, here, in this cave filled with salt water. Shaking my head at his dark humor, I said that Jack would not rot in this foul place like all those other corpses that floated around us. As for Sandara, she was tired and subdued, so she simply followed us. Though she had recovered most of her equipment, her weapons were nowhere to be found.

On the way back toward the entrance, we found another magical bracer that the queen had dropped in her hasty escape: how fortuitous! Granam's curiosity led us into many long and twisting stone tunnels that were cramped and nearly flooded with water. One of the caverns we found seemed to be some sort of prison: metal bars were set in the ground, and in the darkened space beneath them, we caught a glimpse of shadowy shapes avoiding our magical light. We decided not to investigate, since the odds that these creatures were both benevolent and capable of rewarding us for aiding them were quite small.

Another cave was the lair of eight more grindilows that we fought in yet another furious battle. Granam was badly wounded and nearly perished. Only Sandara's desperate healing saved him at the last moment. I fought with great skill in that battle, slaying half of our enemies by myself!

Looting the creature's cave, we found Sandara's weapons, a scrimshawed hammerhead shark's skull with a piece of driftwood through it, a walrus ivory tusk, inlaid with gold, forming a map of the Shackles (sadly, without any locations of hidden treasures) and an orca jaw set with pearls. Granam understood that the piece of driftwood was in fact a magical wand of Mirror Image, which I took, since I am the only one capable of using such a spell. I looked at the pieces of scrimshaw wistfully, knowing that my friend Jack would have appreciated them.

Upon returning to the entrance, we decided to avoid the stirges by exploring the tunnel that seemed to lead to the sea. Hannibal was still able to breathe water thanks to the potion he had used earlier, so he investigated the long tunnel, where the current was strong. To make things worse, the walls of the tunnel had been carved sharply, like fish bones. It made the journey not only very long, but quite dangerous. Hannibal returned after a few minutes, indicating that it would likely be too dangerous for the rest of us, as Varnas and I might not be able to hold our breath long enough, due to being weakened from the stirges' stings earlier. To make things worse, four more grindilows guarded the entrance.

We decided that facing the stirges was less dangerous, and Hannibal had an even better idea: we fetched some grindilow corpses and held them up to the surface of the water in the sinkhole. Drawn by the scent of blood, the stirges gorged themselves on the bodies of our enemies. Bloated with the succulent fluid, they placidly flew away once their meal was finished, giving us the opportunity to climb out of the pit unchallenged.

The grindilows' prisoners

After our encounter with the devilfish, we first explored a tunnel to our right; it led to a cave trapped with a huge metal cage. We noticed the trap without triggering it and decided to go another way. Granam and I were limping as the effect of the devilfish's poison was starting to make itself felt. The central tunnel led us past yet another "lake of hooks" to a large, deep cave that was filled with floating pieces of carrion: hundreds of carcasses of various origins, some humanoid, some not. The entire nightmarish scene was lit by an eerie glow. A strong current formed a kind of vortex in the middle of the cave.

Several beings awaited us in this cave. The first was the wounded devilfish. Also present was an enormous grindilow: while most members of its race are roughly the size of a halfling, this monstrous specimen was as large as an ogre! Further back, on a ledge, was a female grindilow, the one we suspected was their queen or matriarch. Near her, tied to the ceiling, were Sandara and Jack, their feet weighed with ponderous silver ingots. The matriarch threatened to cut their bonds and send them into the foul waters to drown. Both of our shipmates looked worse for the wear, and Jack much more so: the poor lad had already lost a foot to these tentacled monstrosities.

With a hungry shriek, the grindilow queen announced the start of the battle. While I used what little bardic magic was left at my disposal to aid my companions, the queen began a summoning spell that would soon cause an octopus to appear close to her. Hannibal swam to attack the devilfish and dodged attacks from both that monster and the enormous grindilow. Granam let two arrows fly, wounding the devilfish even more. The monstrous aberration tried to retreat deeper inside the pool to harass Hannibal at a distance with its tentacles, but before it got very far, Hannibal pierced it with its dagger, finally ending its foul life once and for all!

Hannibal then turned toward the giant grindilow and stabbed it as well. I swam to help him, but couldn't find an opening past the monster's furious swings. Thankfully, Hannibal's shield protected him well from the attacks of the oversized enemy. More of the queen's foul magic then came into play, and the algae that floated around the cave suddenly came to life, grasping at us with malevolent sentience, making it very difficult to fight and swim.

Two more of Granam's deadly arrows then flew through the air; one of them lodged itself into the big grindilow's throat. The fiend expired with a hoarse gasp. A furious howl came from the queen of the grindilow tribe; perhaps his mother? To get some measure of vengeance, she cut Sandara and Jack's restraints. They promptly sank out of sight. She then used a power similar to that of the devilfish to swim by us at a tremendous speed, soon getting out of sight. Varnas stabbed her with his dagger as she passed, and she also dropped her harpoon, which Granam promptly grabbed and claimed as his own.

After killing the summoned octopus, we all attempted to swim toward Jack and Sandara, something that was made quite difficult by the still-semi-sentient plants that entangled us. To our horror, once we reached the bottom of the watery cave, we saw that our allies were being attacked by two foul undead creatures that were manacled to the submerged floor. It was too late for Jack: he was already dead, torn to pieces by the two monsters. Sandara was still alive, but paralyzed by their touch. As we began battling these enemies, Hannibal and Varnas also became paralyzed, and nearly died as well.

( In fact, Varnas did die, coup-de-grace'd by one of the ghouls. He used an action point to stay alive.)

I was not spared the torment of their claws and fangs, but I survived the paralysis, recalling an old tale I'd heard that elves are immune to such dangers. Granam threw the queen's harpoon at the ghouls, discovering that it was enchanted with a peculiar magic that allowed the weapon to return to his hand after each throw; he killed one of the enemies, and I slew the other one with my rapier. We swiftly untied Sandara and brought her back to the surface, lest she drown before our very eyes!

After ensuring that Sandara was now safe, we brought poor Jack's remains to the surface as well. He was my first friend aboard the Wormwood, beside those three who were made prisoner at the same time. I felt a profound sadness as I carried his mangled corpse: if only we had been able to get there sooner and save him! Searching the disgusting cave was a most unpleasant experience, but we'd be damned if we left that accursed place without claiming our rightful reward! We found a number of coins and pearls, as well as pieces of scrimshaw and a shark jaw encrusted with gold. Some of the pieces of scrimshaw were inscribed with runes of arcane magic that would function as scrolls. Very precious, those! In addition, we found a magical bracer of unknown properties. Finally, Sandara gave her magical tricorn to Hannibal as a token of her gratitude.

The grindilows' lair

After resting and healing ourselves, we ventured into the grindilows' lair. It was around midnight, and the tide was rising; we were now close to high tide. We made our way down into the sinkhole using a rope we had secured to a nearby tree. Only Varnas eschewed this careful way down, jumping into the water with a great splash. Once we were near the surface of the water, we were beset by eight foul flying pests: stirges! They began to suck our blood, so we went under the water's surface to get rid of them. As they detached themselves from our bodies, we killed two of them, but still, they had done some damage: all of us were weakened from blood loss.

Beneath the surface, we found two tunnels leading into the rock. One of them led toward the sea, so we took the other one. We made our way through a series of low tunnels filled with seaweed and bits of floating bone, some of which were decorated like the scrimshaw fetishes that surrounded the island. Thankfully, there were some air pockets here and there, so we were able to keep breathing. Yet we were unlucky in the sense that we made our journey into the caverns at high tide, meaning that the tunnels were almost completely submerged, making our progress much more difficult.

As we soon found out, combat was also much more challenging because of that fact. We entered a large cavern with a deep floor. It was carved to resemble the insides of a great marine beast. As we crossed the entrance, I fell victim to a trap that consisted of hooks attached to algae. I found myself momentarily hindered, as eight grindilows descended upon my allies with a maniacal glee in their beady little eyes.

I was able to free myself and to step back into the corridor, where I had firm footing. I began inspiring my friends with a tale of battle, but they were in a bad position: about to be surrounded by the small enemies, and they had no firm footing. What's more, we were fighting in water and had to use some lighter weapons: Varnas, Hannibal and Granam all drew daggers instead of their regular weapons (a falchion, a battle axe and a longbow, respectively). The first grindilow to reach my companions was swiftly skewered by Varnas, but the trio of humans was soon mobbed by the rest of them. I came to their aid and slew one of the monsters. Granam and Hannibal were lightly wounded, but Varnas was beset from all sides, and cut in a myriad of places.

I carefully went back through the "lake of hooks" to lend a hand to my allies: I killed one of the grindilows, then another! Varnas also killed one, but then, he was laid low by the remaining ones. His body was beginning to sink to the bottom of the cave, but Granam swiftly went after him to prevent him from drowning.

And then there was only one grindilow left. The little menace was wearing a hat that was comically large for his frame: none other than Sandara's hat.

"That doesn't belong to you, scum!" exclaimed Hannibal as he slew the grindilow with his dagger.

I immediately cast some healing spells on Varnas to bring him back to health. It had been a close one! Examining Sandara's hat, I noted that it was imbued with a magical aura that allowed one to swim more easily, and that could be used to transform the hat into a boat once per day! Speaking of magical items, I also discovered that the mysterious ring I'd found in the chelaxian's cabin was enchanted to increase the wearer's skill at swimming. It came in quite handy on this day... Hannibal would wear Sandara's hat for now, until we hopefully got the chance to give it back to its rightful owner.

We made our way through more tunnels. This place was like a labyrinth. Thankfully, there were still air pockets here and there, and we didn't have to worry about illumination, for the Light spells that Varnas and I had cast didn't risk getting extinguished.

We finally reached an intersection where we faced a potent enemy indeed. Only for a brief moment did we catch a glimpse of this tentacled monstrosity - a devilfish - before it spewed a foul cloud of inky darkness all around us. I began choking from the contact with this disgusting substance, and to make things worse, we couldn't see anything. I tried to swim closer to the creature to attack it, but Granam and I were captured by its tentacles. The beast bit us with its poisoned fangs which sapped our very strength. The pain was almost unbearable, and Granam nearly died. I also suffered serious wounds. Drawing my dagger and using my bardic charm to inspire us, I sank my blade deep into the tentacle that was keeping me captive, feeling with a measure of relief the beast shake with a spasm of pain.

Miraculously, Hannibal and Varnas were able to approach the monster despite the blindness brought by the ink cloud. They struck true with their daggers - via our combined efforts, we almost slew the monster, which fled for its life down the tunnel ahead of us.

Thinking of survival more than revenge, we quickly took Granam's limp form and used what remained of our healing magic to prevent him from dying. Alas, Varnas and I had already spent all of our magical energy to recover from these difficult fights: I had to rely on the magic of the newly found wand of healing to close the rest of our wounds.

Downhill

Granam later identified these beings as "vine chokers", creatures smaller than a man, but with long, extremely flexible arms that can be used to strangle their victims. We wounded both monsters, but they were able to nearly asphyxiate Hannibal and Varnas into unconsciousness. Taking them captive, the chokers climbed up the trees that were their home. Granam and I were able to slay both of them with arrows, then climbed up the trees quickly, as our companions were both precariously hanging from branches. At any moment, they risked plummeting to their deaths! Using the last of my magic and two potions of healing, we were able to resuscitate Varnas and Hannibal. Thankfully, we found some treasure in the choker's nest, including a wand of healing.

We then spent a portion of the afternoon climbing down the west side of the mountain, from the stockade to the bay where the grindilows laired. It was a difficult trip due to the steepness of the terrain and the amount of thick undergrowth. Varnas cut a path with his falchion, swinging left and right ceaselessly, but my ancient elven heritage kicked in, and instead, I found myself moving more in tune with the layout of the trees around us... Letting myself be guided in a natural way.

We encountered several nasty critters along the way: a giant praying mantis, an assassin vine and two slime molds that were covered with various types of fungi that Granam found fascinating. We are now quite close to the cove of the grindilows. Sheer cliffs, between 40 and 80 feet in height, surround this land-locked sinkhole among the porous stone. The water inside it is churning and of an almost black color, indicating that it should be somewhat safe to jump down into it. Climbing back up might be more challenging, though...

For now, we will rest so that Varnas and I can recuperate our magical powers. It is now late afternoon. Tomorrow around mid-day, the Man's Promise is scheduled to leave the island. Time is of the essence, if we don't want to become prisoners of this island like the chelish sailor who became a ghast...

(ooc: Ding! The characters rise to level 3!)

Gozran 13th, 4711

Those who came before us

In the morning, Varnas and I used our freshly regained magic to heal most of our wounds. Alas, Varnas himself looked worse for the wear: he was pale and sweating, having apparently contracted some kind of affliction from the bites of the mosquitoes during the night.

We made the arduous journey along the coast at the edge of the foul swamp, back to the fishing village, where we had left the cutter. We boarded it and proceeded to row around the eastern tip of the island, all the way down to the beach. It was strenuous work and took all morning. It was a good thing that we had recovered our strength during our prolonged rest.

We reached a beach of fine white sand. This could've been a pleasant place to stay, if not for the looming menace of the grindilows and the sense of urgency we felt: Jack and Sandara's lives were in danger, assuming we weren't already too late! We hid the cutter among the undergrowth beneath the fifty-foot-tall palm trees. But as we did so, three enormous crabs, the size of very large dogs, noticed our intrusion on their territory and attacked us!

The fight was swift but intense. I aided my companions with my bolstering magic and my rapier. Varnas was the strongest of all, destroying two of the crabs with his mighty falchion. Despite his illness, he fought with fury! Granam struck one with an arrow, but poor Hannibal got pinched quite hard by one of the crabs, despite the protection of his shield. For a few moments, he could barely move, his face twisted in pain from the pressure of the pincers; but then, his battle instincts took over: reaching into his boot, he drew a hidden knife, which he drove into his tormentor's brain! The big crab released its hold as it died and Hannibal was free once more.

Varnas and I used more spells to patch up our wounded friend. Alas! The day had just begun and we were already almost depleted of energy!

We located the path that led into the jungle, noticing that it did not seem to have been used recently. That seemed ominous... After some time, we reached a fork: one branch led ahead, likely to the wide clearing we had spied from the Fist. But we took the path to our right, which led up into the mountain. After some time, we reached the wooden stockade. It, too, had clearly been abandoned for some time, though it did not seem quite so ruined as the fishing village. Entering cautiously, we took note of a few buildings, but our attention was drawn to an elaborate telescope that still stood on one side of the palisade. Examining the contraption, we noticed that it pointed to a bay on the south-western shore of the island. Peering into the device, Granam exclaimed that he could see signs of activity: grindilows! So we had found their lair at last, and to confirm our suspicions, Granam reported that one of the villains was sporting Sandara's tricorn...

We also noticed that a mast could be seen protruding from the waves, below and to the west of us: so another ship had wrecked on this island... We spent the next few minutes dismantling the telescope, for such devices are quite precious to have on board a ship: Mister Plugg has none. We wondered if we would be able to conceal it from our miserable overlord, or if he would claim it for himself upon our return. We also noted the presence of a cascade of fresh water close by: our secondary objective on the island was to fetch some fresh water, but that seemed a triviality for us, since Varnas is able to conjure an infinite quantity of water with his magical powers.

Finally, we entered the abandoned shack. A foul stench of putrefaction assailed our nostrils. Within the darkened abode swung the still form of what had once been a man: dressed in chelaxian finery, the corpse hung from the rafters. The only civilized inhabitant of the island we had encountered so far seemed to have ended his own life. A journal lay on a nearby desk, hinting at a possible explanation for the chelaxian's disturbing suicide. We noted that his death could not date back more than a few weeks, otherwise upon rotting, the main part of his body would have fallen down, becoming disjointed from its neck.

We examined the place cautiously. Our nerves were on edge. Sensing some magic nearby, we found a ring of unknown origin and powers. Neither Varnas nor myself were able to determine its purpose. With a quick toss of the dice, I gained this hopefully potent item for myself! I shall wear it upon my finger henceforth, hoping that fate with reveal its use before too long.

Then, we gathered our courage and inspected the foul corpse with no small measure of trepidation. To our horror, the thing suddenly animated, for it was not fully dead: it was, rather, a most foul un-dead monstrosity! With a fearsome rasp, the creature grasped at Granam while we struck to end its unholy existence for good, hacking at it with our blades. Varnas and Granam almost retched, so affected were they by the monster's atrocious odour. Grabbing the young archer, the undead heaved itself up, and finally became free of the chelaxian knot that had kept it attached to the ceiling. It landed back on the ground deftly, but before it could attack us, Varnas struck once again: it was a mighty blow, and the chelaxian sailor found true death at last.

Reading the journal, we learned about the fate of those who came before us. As we had guessed, the man we had just killed had come to the island aboard the ship which had wrecked to the west nearly three years ago. The vessel, named the Infernus, had come from Cheliax. Aboard it had been two ghouls, which are sometimes used as shock troops among the chelaxian infernal army. The creatures escaped from the wreck, and it seems that the affliction known as ghoul fever became transmitted via the mosquitoes of the island. The first humans so infected were three harlots who had traveled aboard the Infernus. Now turned into ghouls, the women killed most of the crew. Only the sailor that we had just now killed escaped, and made his home here upon the mountain's summit, where the ghouls seemingly did not wander. He claimed they considered the swamp as their domain.

Since then, the man had lived as best as he could, even working on a plantation deeper in the jungle: that "clearing" we had noticed earlier. But, recently, he had become infested by the ghoul fever as well, through a mosquito bite. Crushed by his horrible predicament, he decided to end his life: alas, something went wrong, and we now surmise that he did not perish from the hanging. Rather, he must have survived in atrocious fashion, hanging from the ceiling for hours or even days, until the ravenous madness overcame him, and he lapsed into undeath. What a terrible, terrible way to go...

Varnas became even paler as he realized that he, too, had perhaps contracted this disease. We all watched him warily... wondering if we would have to put him down before he became one of ... them.

Disturbed by what we had just read, we nevertheless did our duty as looters and took whatever weapons and jewelry we could find before leaving the shack with the intension of heading down to the bay where the grindilows dwelled.

Yet as soon as we set foot outside the building, two odd man-shaped plants dropped down next to us and attacked!

The Fist

Upon further consideration, we decided not to sleep in the fishing village after all. There were too many mosquitoes, and we likely faced a thoroughly unpleasant, or even lethal, stay so close to the swamp. Instead, we took advantage of the daylight hours and traveled to "the Fist", that low hill to the east, despite our state of weariness. It took close to an hour, but we finally reached the summit. There, we found the remains of an old moldy beacon, as well as some torches and tindertwigs. We could see the Man's Promise, still stuck on the reefs, to the north. But more interestingly, we could now get a much better idea of the layout of the island from this vantage point.

We were are the tip of a peninsula that was mostly covered by a filthy swamp cloven in two by a wide river that ran along its length, flowing down from the Fist. This terrain would definitely be difficult to traverse on foot. Further lay a wide jungle, and the entire western side of the island was shielded by a rocky formation, the extension of the "bigger hill" we had observed earlier. Near the summit of that rise, we could see what appeared to be a small wooden stockade. We noticed a pathway leading to it from the jungle. Not too far from there was a beach, one of the few landing spots on the island. We also saw what seemed to be a field in the middle of the jungle. We wondered: had the survivors of the village taken refuge on top of the mountain, trying to get further away from the amphibious grindilows?

We could have made our way there already, as there were still a few hours of daylight ahead of us, but we were much too tired, wounded and bereft of magical energy. The timing was unfortunate. We ended up resting around eighteen hours, until the sun rose the next morning.

During the night, we were only troubled by a few mosquitoes. Were heard the sounds of nocturnal predators from the swamp below, but none troubled us on the promontory.

First look at the island

It seemed that the island was surrounded by coral reefs, at least on the north side. While Varnas and I rowed, Granam and Hannibal stood watch. The water was very clear, but the riptide currents were treacherous, making rowing (and surely, swimming) in this region quite tricky. On the way to the shore, we passed by several half-submerged skeletons that had been decorated with scrimshaw and runes. Apparently, this was a custom among grindilows. So it seemed indeed that there was a colony of them nearby.

"Look at these bones," said Granam. "Notice the trauma they show. It's because they've been gnawed by the small teeth of these vicious creatures as they removed the flesh of their victims. Yes, the grindilows are mean, but they're also artistic. We can consider this place as some kind of museum for them."

The closest stretch of the island presented no good places to go ashore, so we rowed closer to the middle of the island. We reached a beach close to the ruins of an old fishermen's village. The place had seemingly been abandoned for several decades. Overgrowth now covered a good portion of the twenty or so mud huts. The roofs were long gone. To our left, we spied the remains of an old building atop the lower hill, which looked like a fist. Had it been a beacon, once? To the south stretched a salt swamp. We wondered briefly what had happened to the inhabitants of this place, but got our answer almost immediately: they were the decorations in the grindilow "museum".

Even though time was of the essence, we were all way too tired to venture further into the island. We were wounded and fatigued from having battled the storm and the grindilows. Varnas and I were depleted of magic. We needed to rest, otherwise we'd just end up being overwhelmed by the grindilows. Perhaps we could take shelter into one of the least miserable-looking huts for a few hours?

Gozran 12th, 4711

Victims of the grindilows

I awoke in the shadows, my body aching painfully in a myriad of places. I was in the ship's hold, in a gently swaying hammock. A moment of anxious oblivion swept over me, but then came the memories: the battle against the grindilows, these small, disgusting beings with their spears and teeth and tentacles... I remembered the fight on the storm-tossed deck, I remembered that my companions and I all lost our footing while battling these tentacled foes. Armor and ranged weapons would have been a boon in such a battle, but alas, we were not equipped for combat. We had been struggling against the storm for many longs hours: we fought with only the light weapons we carried in our weary hands.

I fell, I was stabbed, I was bitten. My rapier pierced the abdomen of one of those bluish abominations, and it expired with a vile shriek. But then another took its place, and a terrible pain came immediately with it.

I thought I'd died... but... seemingly it wasn't the case. I looked down and saw that my shirt was open and covered in blood. A fresh wound was visible in the middle of my chest: it was a miracle that I was still alive. I could tell that I had received some magical healing, from Varnas or Sandara, I did not know which at the time. Ironically, I still possessed all of my magical energy. I healed myself more thoroughly (though still not fully - not yet), and then I spent my last spell on the inert form of Granam, who was also resting not far from me. His head was wrapped in bandages: if I'd had to guess, I would have said he had fallen from the rigging. Around us were more moaning or unconscious crew members, but alas, I lacked the power to heal them all.

As I was pondering whether to go back on deck to help the rest of the crew, or to retire back to my hammock to try and recover from the fatigue that still gripped me, a sudden and terrible shock shook the ship, almost knocking me off my feet. We had hit something!

In the tumultuous minutes that followed, I was rejoined by Varnas and Hannibal who described to me the battle against the grindilows: four of the creatures were dead, the other two having jumped overboard in fright. Varnas had cured me, as well as the others. He was out of healing energy, just as I was. We were all tired, so very tired...

Hannibal went below, then announced upon his return that there was a breach in the lower deck. The ship would need to be repaired, otherwise it would sink once we'd cleared the reefs. Mister Plugg gave orders for the repairs to begin. Then we became aware of the absence of two more crew members: the lovely and ever-so-useful Sandara, and my young friend Jack. Damnation! Why did it have to be those two, when there were so many people I'd sooner be rid of aboard this damnable ship?

A short investigation produced Sandara's holy symbol, suspiciously abandoned on the deck, and some traces of grindilow spears having impacted the nearby railing. Clearly, our friends had gotten captured. The storm had been so chaotic that the rest of the crew had not even realized we were under attack until Varnas and the others told them.

Granam was now back on his feet, but he was still wounded in several places. He had also been badly hurt by the grindilows, to say nothing of the thirty-foot fall he had taken but a few hours ago. He seemed to be somewhat of an expert when it came to grindilows. He explained that they were amphibians who usually laired in half-submerged caves. Their primitive societies were ruled by "queens". It was his hypothesis that Jack and Sandara were likely still alive, but captives of these wicked creatures, who surely meant to offer them as a meal to their queen. If we were to see them alive again, we needed to go after them promptly!

We turned to watch our surroundings. We had gotten stuck on some reefs that surrounded an island with two hills, a low one (around 200 feet) to the east and a high one (around 2000 feet) to the west. We were currently on the north side of the island. If this place had a name, none of us knew it.

When we initially presented our plan to go on the island to rescue our friends, Mister Plugg was, unsurprisingly, a complete and total ass: he refused to spend any time or resources looking for them; he considered them lost at sea. He expressly forbade us to go after them.

I was ready to convince my friends to sneak off in the middle of the night, the following night, but Ambrose joined us on deck, wearing a grim expression. For a moment, I thought that the worst had happened: that the cask of rum had gotten perforated, but thankfully, things were not quite so dire. It was only our reserve of drinkable water that was leaking.

This forced Mister Plugg's hand: he needed some people to go on land to fetch some water. I was assigned to this duty, along with my three usual companions. He told us to take the cutter to row to the island. Given the time it would take to repair Man's Promise, he gave us 48 hours to accomplish this mission. I wasn't too worried about this deadline, though, as he would be a damned fool to sail off with six missing crew members in these conditions.

Gozran 11th, 4711

Change of plans

... Or... not.

We were woken up in the middle of the night by the movement of the waves heaving the ship to and fro, the howling of the wind, and the furious drumming of the rain upon the deck. A storm had snuck up on us! Ah, Besmara, what dreadful timing this was! Why? Why??!!

Alas, our survival depended on the entire crew's efforts, so we hurried up on deck to ensure we survived the tempest. The mutiny would have to wait for another day.

Throughout the rest of the night, and the entire day, into the following night, we all worked tirelessly. I was first assigned as lookout, making the vertiginous climb up to the crow's nest, where I was mightily tossed left and right by the ship's movement. A weaker person would have emptied his stomach, but I prevailed. The wind blasted me continuously with water, and I struggled to keep my keen elven eyes on our surroundings. On several occasions, I spotted some reefs ahead of us, and I shouted directions to the crew below. I do believe I saved us all this day, and from my vantage point, I was struck yet again by how pathetic a captain Mister Plugg is. He does not have the ability to mobilize the crew as Captain Harrigan did, and, truly, what inept captain lets himself be surprised by a storm? Really!

Morning came, but the storm did not abate. On the contrary, it picked up in strength during the day. I was relieved from my post and assigned to work at rigging repairs. It seemed to last an eternity, and I was perched aloft, trying desperately not to fall or be tossed overboard, as I worked on my task. The hours stretched on endlessly and every one of my muscles turned to lead. I could barely move anymore.

But the storm was relentless. The smaller crew members such as Rosie and Ratline could barely move against the force of the wind.

I spent the second half of the afternoon on line work, until day receded into night. I numbly and dumbly worked as twilight settled on the rain- and wave-swept deck. In time, my mind grew as leaden as my legs, my arms, my fingers... The ropes began to blur in my vision, but still, I kept on working... with shaking fingers... until the ropes became as heavy as stone. The deck rocked back and forth... and back... and forth... so tired... so very tired...

...

I'm not sure what happened. I must have lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, a comely, if a bit blurry, female face was gazing down upon me. I lay in Sandara's embrace: she had revived me with her healing magic. Ah, that blessed, magnificent, elf-snubbing priestess!

I groggily got back to my feet, thanked her with a curt not, and headed toward my next task, obeying Master Scourge's hoarse barks. I found myself passing the tired-looking shapes of my companions Hannibal, Granam and Varnas when suddenly, we felt some thuds on the deck nearby and heard some inhuman voices raised in hostile squealing. We turned and beheld a half-dozen small, bluish things that looked to my eyes like the offspring of a goblin and a squid.

"Grindilows!" exclaimed Granam as he beheld the monstrosities.

"It's nice to have a name for them," I thought as I reached wearily for my rapier.

Gozran 10th, 4711

Getting ready

Another pointless, back-breaking day in the bilge with Granam. Hopefully my last one.

Rumors are now running amok on the ship regarding our change of course. Mister Plugg and Master Scourge are saying nothing, dismissing the crew's concern.

Besmara has remained silent concerning the feasibility of our rebellion. Could the atheistic aura of Man's Promise be preventing Sandara from communing with her goddess properly? No matter. We've decided to strike during the coming night, for better or for worse. We'll wake an hour before the bell usually rings. We'll knock out our enemies who sleep below deck as silently as possible. We'll then move up and try to surprise Master Scourge when he comes out of his cabin to ring the bell. At that point will begin the battle against him, Mister Plugg, Owlbear, Aretta and Jaundiced Jape, but at that point, we'll hopefully outnumber them two to one. Giffer Tibbs and my friend Jack might find themselves in the thick of battle, but, as they say, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

Bloody Hour saw the flogging of Ratline and Badger. Varnas also did an especially poor job of hunting turtles, as he had done in the past. Master Scourge shouted at him, promising him an agonizing day in the bilge on the morrow. Varnas and I exchanged a quick look and smiled discreetly.

"We'll see..." said Varnas under his breath once Master Scourge was gone.

We went to bed early that night, in preparation for our early-morning mutiny... We were very excited. For better or for worse, things were about to get a lot different aboard Man's Promise!