Falgor Finney, NPC's page

32 posts. Alias of baldwin the merciful.


"Move them tables boys and lets get some bets. Bare chest, no armor, and don't those of you with wiggle fingers get tryin' try to influence the action." He eyeballs a few folks he knows that would. "Even money bet this be." With that the bar springs into action and coin is exchanged as two "bookies' work the room and write out bettors.

As a default I'm going to assume the PCs place at least 10GP (up to a 50gp top bet) on Marcus.


Rex: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
marcus: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Initiative Order:


Bar Map

*Assume the center table have been moved. You begin 10 feet away from one another. I'll update the map when I get home, if it's not concluded already.

Old Falgor's weathered fingers snatch the coin up before it actually settled down the bar. "Well Captain Riggs is a fine and veter'n capt'n with a guud rep. Known to fair and discipline but moody, known to throw a tantrum or two." He takes another shot off of Revhi's bottle and pours another round to those partaking. "Some say he's troubled by some unknown affliction. Whatever it is, no one is certain." His thick forefinger thumps his temple when he discusses an "affliction." He continues on, Now, The Sealord's Blessing a fine ship, name says it all really, lots of little,..." He puts a finger over his lips thinking for the right word, "...well area to give the Quell thanks."

Quell is 3PP deity to the sea, you can think of him as this regions version of Gozreh.

Revhi inquires about the captain and bartender looks around quickly. "You buying the bottle and tippin"" He grins, the message that his lips could be pried open.

He belly laughs hard, nearly spilling some of his rumboozle. He lift it and gulps it down. He wipes his face with the dirty towel he's been using to clean the bar with. "Well... that nervous one ov'r there be Capt. Rigg's." He thumbs over to the table where there is man is talking to another.

The stout dwarven barkeep wipes his scarred bar with his dirty towel, "High spend'rs like you gonna drive me under those wretched waves. Tea...a pot o'tea." He shakes his head but perks up when the slim woman steps up to the bar. "A bottle O'rumboozle, ye shall have." He smirks and his stubby cigar's ash falls on the plank bar.

He pulls out a bottle and couple glasses, he clearly intends to share a cup of the rumboozle. "Tea be ready in a minute." So you lookin' fer Capt Riggs." His eyes then go to the door as Davkas enters. 'No palor tricks tonight Davkas...I'm warnin' ya guud, or you'll meet knotty, me club."

"Yes...a heavy bag of coin was given."

If it hasn't already been subtracted, you can do it.

I missed Astri's earlier roll. Got it. 28 Atri (lead roll) +2 sorrin, +2 Chell, +2 Bri +0 Ptahh = 34.

Falgor sees the adventurers entering and he gets wide eyed. Luv me some large scale recruitment time. He gladly accepts the purse of coin.

Ptahh has made his assist roll. Sorrin has made an assist roll. Chell, Bri and Astri have rolls remaining. I assume astri will be taking it?

The Run Aground is packed with bodies and Falgor is working like crazy, along with his serving wenches. The earthquake and potential for rogue waves is the hot topic, when a few people walk in talking about free food, drink and healing, along with the possibility of work. Most importantly free food and drink. This of course has Falgor shooing folks away form the bar. "I"M NOT SERVING FEEBEES...don't know who put that CRAZY idea in yer heads!"

Falgor looks at Sorrin, "That'll be 4 gold for the his meal and her brandy." He raises his palms upward, chest high as if to say he can't afford to feed everyone. [b]"I 'eard you were looking to sell yer ship and well, Boris was prowling the docks by the Mother's Blessing making she was outfitted and obligations paid. I sent down three barrels of ale, myself."

"Capt Lester is ...unique." He wipes the bar.

The barkeep pours Astri a healthy snifter of the aged brandy. "You look like you could use this, b'sides that one," he nods to Sorrin, "thinks bar owners get rich by servin' water." His sarcasm is apparent.

Falgor drops two more tankards of ale to the half-orc, just as the steak and taters appear.

The bar owner slides on over to the Sorrin and bri. he pours Bri another wine and slides a water to the Sorrin. He eyes Sorrin, "Your drinking habit is bad for business," he scolds. "You still looking for hire a crew? That one just got off a ship or so he says...not too sure about his story, but he looks handy with a weapon." You can see has a well kept falchion slung on his back.

Sorrin and Bri can make a perception check. DC 12 and higher you notice the half-orc standing and emphatically talking to the Falgor. DC 14 and you over hear what the half-orc is saying to the bar owner.

"B'sides the sword...you actually sail...I mean the real work of sailing, not just millin 'round the deck as a mercenary?

Ptaah you notice a scantly clad female a bit further down the bar, she seems to have a moving necklace. Her long black hair flows from under the her black pirate hat.

You've heard of this place called the Broken Skull but you don't recall the specifics right now. You do know you've seen alot of sharks in the bay and you've heard the dockworkers grumbling about shark attacks and bites. But again, not enough to really sink into your memory.

"Lots of work for a blade. Depends which side of the fence you prefer."

Ptahh wrote:

Ptahh enters the Run Aground and scans the crowded tavern for any of the familiar faces of the Rabid Weasel. Satisfied that none are present, he finds a suitable spot down the bar from which he can keep an eye on the door.

Ale... and meat... fresh meat... Anything but fish... he grunts to the first waitress that happens to catch his eye.

He relaxes for a moment listening to a siren's voice sing of Quell. humpff... she sings of a lesser god. I would hear a song of Gorum. Still, it is quite intoxicating.



Hearing the name spoken aloud, he snaps to reality and looks about the place for the dwarf before realizing that he is behind the bar.

The dwarf slides the half-orc a tankard, looking suspiciously at him, making sure coin is placed on the bar. New? Possibly looking to test his skill at the Broken Skull. "Well...shark stew is today's special...cheap and tasty in a cream sauce. Sharks are plentiful these days." He considers the meat request. "How do want the ribeye cooked...hell, you even want it cooked?" He half jokes. "You fresh off the ships looking test your luck a the Broken Skull, or are you smarter than that?"

Sorrin the Wayward wrote:

Hey there, Falgor. How's business? Mind if I am off any Tulita left a message for me... Was hoping this was a safe place.

Any trouble? Sorrin passes some silver, for water. Cool, of he's got it.

His stubby fingers dart out like an alligator as he pockets the coin. "I'm fine with that sir."

He pours snifter of aged brandy and slides it you. "He may smell like the shyter but he has the tastes of royalty. Sewer divin' made 'im well off." He pauses. "That'll be 3 gold for the brandy and the meals."

Doesn' Sorrin talk about employing Tutilans in a bakery making small portions cheaply? Ha

He shrugs, "Some say a wealthy foreign merchant or prince is talk'n bout buyin' properties and opening bakeries. Little dough pasteries and cups of chick-O-ry coffee. Talk'n 'bout dunkin the little pasties in the coffee. Hired some elves to set it up."

His eyes narrow and bends much closer to his bar, "They alchy fire rumor is spreading like hot cakes...that's confirmed. Mark me words something bad's 'bout to go ablaze." He wipes the bar with his dirty rag, "Last fire 'ere kilt many people...many...ships burned, buildings, nasty, nasty that was."

He smiles, "Follow the smell the famous sewer pirate is back there." he nods towards the far corner with pulled drapes. "he's the halfling."

Falgor bows his head as chell prays over the food and drink, he doesn't realize she is detecting poison. The meal comes up fine.

Shark stew...plentiful and cheap these days. Good turnips, taters, and onions in nice creamy broth. Bread right cheap too all of a sudden, something 'bout the bakers worried 'bout competition. Not too sure' bout that but cheaper costs can help out."

The bar keep nods and waves you over to the bar. "So far...you've done good keepin' Captain Donovan outof the bottle. 'eard he's trying ta train y'a crew too." He sniffs and pours the four of you a tankard. "This ones on the house."

DM random events:

run into someone you know 30%: 1d100 ⇒ 40
sordid rumors 30?%: 1d100 ⇒ 5
other fun stuff 25%: 1d100 ⇒ 9

You all don't recognize anyone there or least not anyone who you've encountered before.

Sorrin the Wayward wrote:

Seeing as there may have been time, Sorrin world have checked on Captain Donovan and Jenkie... as well as The Dragon Tail's new crew.

At the Run Aground, he'd have told Falgor about the message drop he's set up, apologizing for not having asked. He looks around for Roland in his travels.

I thought you mentioned that the new crew to come back in few days to check in.

The barkeep shrugs.

"Roland's been lookin' fer ya. been by the Vintage and the Dragon's Tail already...he was gonna go by the Green Dragon."

random event:

40% run into Roland: 1d100 ⇒ 89

Sorrin you and Roland do not run into each other.

The dwarf shrugs and nods, "Captain Montgomery use t'be the best. It was said, 'If it floats, he can sail it.'" He continues to wipe the bar looking busy. "Pirates and smugglers use t'fear 'im cuz he could sniff out of any fog or cove and track 'em down." His eye brows raise, "times a change, but he's a guud guy."

"Got y'a Capt and 'is..." he pauses , "sloop the Vintage. He's another crew wit 'im so he asks fer another 4 gold fer the round trip t'pay his man." He wipes the counter and takes the coin. "He's at the end of the bar...name's Capt Donovan Montogmery...lots of folks call him 'Shakes'"

"Let me check 'round, when you leaving?"

"I may be able t'git y'a guide, but he won't want any fightin' and well, Thumbs Reach is potentially cursed so he's gonna want high'r pay...maybe 10 gold to git y'there."

Sorrin you don't notice anyone interesting except the minotaur and the priest. The dwarf steps around and says, "Give 'em hope." He pats counter, "wit hope people will 'elp bootstrap one 'nother."

"Rumor is the drop is gonna happen tomorrow night."

"One thing that need investigatin'" He looks around making sure it's his usual crowd in the bar. "Me ears hear thar's a big drug drop happ'n soon'. Heard thar's a new drug called brainfog comin' in from t'Jaws or sumthin'. All d'local pusher's lookin' fer new shipment. Drug's be what did un the tulita...hooked 'em. Break dat smugglin' ring and earn some respect but beware rumor is many are protected."

He glances around the continues, "Try the dockside, usually a few push'rs. Dupe 'em into giv'n up their supplier...greedy dealers and addicts they are."

No sooner do you pat you stomach as a think bowl of fish stew and some brown bread with honey arrives. "Seeing your done remeedin' figured you'd be hungry. Damn fine thing you did fer the Major."

"Bah, 'eard they got I'm with blood round 'is own mouth calling out fer his daughter Jessica."

It is pretty clear that the patrons don't really know what happened with this Harok Mcfarrow at his hamlet Thumb's Reach but what ever it was it was pretty gruesome. Some believe him guilty others not.

"Wonder if they'll be hangin' that Harok McFarrow's madman at the same time? That lil' hamlet Thumb's Reach has 'ad its share of bad luck. I 'eard one local angular from the hamlet hasn't sold 'is catch fer a a week now, folks 'fraid to buy from d'area."

Bowls of fish stew and warm brown grain bread are brought out for everyone, the owner nods and says "Eat and may the justice prevail."

The dwarf takes the coin, he doesn't bother to test it, he simply tucks in his apron, Falgor Finney...guud to t'meet you Sorrin. Many a folk come here, tend t'git me share of those luukin' fer some help, so yer gesture is much 'ppreciated." He pours some tankards and hands some for you to carry back to each of your group. He then starts to fill others for the crowd.

He steps to the end of the bar and places one tankard in front of man in a worn draggoon uniform, the man looks down trodden and weathered, his scabbard is empty of the rapier. His soiled an torn uniform has areas of insignia and rank that has been removed. "Major this one's on the house." the man looks up bleakly and manages a small nod.

The dwarf walk back to Sorrin, "I'm in the liking camp with the Tulita, don't tolerate the nastiness others show 'em." You actually see a couple Tulita in the bar.

He leans over and speaks softly to one of the waitresses, she nods and starts to pick up the tankards and distribute them to the patrons.