"Let's wait. I'm interested in observing the local practices."
”That might be our man. Where can we find Gregorus?”
"Inn, I guess." the fisherman shrugs. "Only place to stay round here anyway if you ain't from here."
At the end, the parishioners file out gossipping among themselves as they see the strange outsiders, offering you openly hostile glances. The priest approaches after he has seen the others out. He looks barely more accommodating than any of the citizens, but he at least engages you in conversation.
"Strangers. You upset the parishioners with your presence. Why have you come to this Church?" he asks pointedly.
"We apologize father, we meant no offense. We intended to come speak with you and thought it important to learn of your faith. I have seen little of Gozreh's faithful, for how much our gods stay neutral in divine affairs it is fascinating how different they are."
Vala, who is with Kazamir and the fat-necked man in the shop and not at the wharf with Vermundr, notes the shopkeeper's tone and winces inwardly. She swallows the sudden urge to meet the man's rudeness with a bolt of lightning, but tries a different tack instead, "Oh! Of course, where are our manners?" She turns her attention to the hunting gear, and after a few moments of consideration, she gasps, "Aha!"
Kneeling down, she rises again a few moments later with a pair of bear traps in hand. "These are a start." She turns to the grumpy man behind the counter and explains, "A friend of ours fancies himself a grand wolf hunter. Do you recommend anything else that you might have for such an endeavor?"
"A solid will for starters. Don't go into the Soddentimbers huntin' that's an old and dangerous place and ain't nothin' out there worth huntin' anyway."
The priest looks only slightly easier at the inquisitor, though it seems he appreciates his words on the similarities and differences of their faiths.
"This is the Recondite Order of the Indomitable Sea. That," he points to the statue of the mermaid. "...is the Wind and the Sea - Gozreh. She watches over us and our men at sea."
”Oh? Well that be a disappointment to him, I’m sure. If there’s no game in the Soddentimbers what makes the place so dangerous?” Vala puts on a crestfallen face as she asks the question, though inwardly her patience begins to wear thin.
Ah. It makes sense why Gozreh would be so important here than. "We hope to find him so we may be on our way as quickly as possible." Zed offers, hoping that they can find mutual benefit in getting out of this town sooner rather than later.
The priest is a broad human man, probably quite large even under the layers and layers of ceremonial robes.
He nods and says;
"This town is small but our fishermen are devout, and so much of my time is spent in service with them. I don't know this rider, but when strangers come to town we hear about it. If he's staying anywhere I would imagine it would be the Whistlers Place. Now please, if you have no other questions, my work is hardly ever done. Like the tide and the wind itself. Excuse me."
”Oh? Well that be a disappointment to him, I’m sure. If there’s no game in the Soddentimbers what makes the place so dangerous?” Vala puts on a crestfallen face as she asks the question, though inwardly her patience begins to wear thin.
"Marsh giants mainly. Big buggers. Don't bother us here, luckily. But they live out there somewhere and don't appreciate people traipsing around."
Zed bows his head. "Your time is much appreciated father." With a nod he follows Hazel outside. "Yes, let's rendezvous with them."
As the pair are leaving the wharf, they notice something strange out in the bay.
The barely visible sight of a man is lashed to a small clutch of rocks that jut out of the water like a set of broken teeth.
The figure is several hundred feet out in the bay.
Constantin puts one hand on his hat and nudges Vermundr with his other elbow.
"You see that?" he says with a nod.
"Too far for me to tell what's going on, or if he's even alive. Tied up... like some kind of offering to Gozreh, you think? Or to some local aquatic monster?"
Alarmed, Vermundr looks for signs of locals attending some kind of rite. "I hope not..."
"Zelda, get closer and see if you can figure out what's going on out there."
Zelda buzzes over the open water until she reaches the collection of sharp rocks. Now closer, she can see a human man chained to the rocks by old, but rugged, iron chains. He is stripped to the waist, his lips are cracked and his eyes roll back in his head. He looks alive, but barely.
Hazel, Zed, Vala and Kaz finish up their respective business and come together in the town square. It doesn't take long to spot Vermundr and Constantin still at the wharf, they seem to be looking out to the Bay at something.
Meeting up, you too see the man lashed to the rocks.
Seeing you staring, a nearby fisherman grumbles:
"Good enough for him too..."
"What in the Nine Hells is going on out there?" Vermundr demands of the nearest fisherman as Zelda is returning. "That man is going to drown at high tide."
Zed says little, but the rise in his eyebrows shows his attitude is much the same as Vermundr's.
"Nah, the Turn Rocks never go under. More'n likely he'll just bash his own head in 'gainst the rocks before the crabs and fish get to him. Or the Watcher."
"Why. Is. He. Chained?" Vermundr growls in growing frustration.
"Dunno, stabbed someone I think. Or done em in somehow anyway." the man continues loading his lobster traps as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Is this a legal punishment?" Zed inquires softly.
The fisherman shrugs.
"Aye, reckon so. For killers and the like any way. Sheriff or Mayor woulda passed the sentence. Look if he found himself out there on the Rocks then chances are he done something to deserve to be there."
"That crackpot... what's his name.... Croon..? He's been messing about on his boat near enough to the Rocks for Skrint out there..." he points to the man lashed to the rocks and then nods to a large but ramshackle building further down the wharf "...to be shouting and screaming at him for help. Me and a few of the boys had to stuff some rags in our ears to drown out his mewling those first few days. Don't think the Mayor is too happy about it, maybe thought he was gonna free him or something." he adds before finishing up with his traps and walking away without another word.
"That seems a cruel punishment. For you all as well as him. If his sentence is death than end his life and be done with it."
Kaz has only stony silence and a long stare out to sea to add to the proceedings.
Vala nods in understanding as the fisherman expounds on the man’s fate. ”A cruel end for a cruel man, then.” She looses a stiff breath from her nose as the only outward hint of her unease, but then shrugs as the man walks off. ”You’re right, Zed. But unless we want to bring the whole town down on our heads, we’d best not make a scene about it.”
Reluctantly, Vermundr finds himself agreeing with his companions' stance. His growling eventually gives way to a frustrated scowl.
Night time in Illmarsh is eerie. The streets around the wharfs are deathly quiet with all of the fishermen having retired to their homes and the large, sentinel-like warehouses creak and crack in the wind as the wood settles in the dropping temperatures.
A gibbous moon sits low in the night sky, giving everything a pale, wet look and an odd slopping noise of water lapping comes from the spindle piers that lead out into the bay. It may be your imagination, but when the wind picks up you sometimes swear you can hear a man's voice crying and pleading from the direction of the Tern Rocks. Or is it just your mind playing tricks, presenting the worst horrors you bear to think of, water lapping at your waist, slippery wet things against your flesh, chains tight around your wrists and every now and then a nip at the exposed flesh beneath the surface....
You shake your head and the noise is gone but the effect of that unheard scream remains.
You become dimly aware that a figure approaches, it's steps suddenly loud on the quiet cobbles. It is the erstwhile Horace Croon.
"Who are you?" he calls. "What are you doing by my workshop? Nothing there you could steal that would make sense to you louts!"
"Oh, it's you."
"Ah of course. Find your friend? If you're looking for a place to stay then you'd best try the Whistler, that's the only Inn round here. But if you'd like to come in for some tea or something I suppose that's about the least I could do."
Croon shuffles over to the large wooden doors that open onto his workshop. He takes out a set of keys and unlocks three padlocks and a sliding bolt.
"Kids sometimes break in and steal stuff. Or more often just break things." he sighs by way of explanation.
He enters and moves quickly to several wall sconces where he strikes a tindertwig and lights the candles placed there. Once lit you see the workshop is also likely the man's home. The building is filled with all manner of strange inventions and odd equipment, most of it unrecognizable, but you do notice a small kitchen area (the sink filled with screws and odd bits of machinery) and a bed in one corner that currently seems to serve as a makeshift bookcase, covered as it is with all manner of manuals and schematics.
"I'll just get the kettle on... try not to touch anything if you can... it's all where I remember it to be.. <andofcoursesomethingmightblowup...>" he mutters as he empties the kettle of an angry little mouse that took up residence in there and fills it from a contraption that looks to collect rainwater from the roof.
"So what can I do for you?"
Vermundr moves around the eccentric man's cottage with a caution that suggests he takes Croon's warning very seriously.
"What can you tell us about the man chained up outside? The fishermen said it was a punishment. What crimes has he committed?"
He has his back to Vermundr as he fills the kettle and says; "That man on the Tern killed a deck hand for cheating him in cards." he says nothing else on the matter.
You don't know if he approves or not of this practice but simply accepts it for what it is.
"Ah there we are." he says as he serves up some fairly weak-looking tea.
Vala accepts the cup with a warm nod, "Thank you, Horace." She sips the tea gingerly as her eyes wander about the workshop aimlessly. "You know, I tried to purchase some hunting equipment earlier today, just to try to get the shopkeeper to warm up to us and offer more than an angry glare, and he warned me of marsh giants in the area. Is that true, Horace? Are there marsh giants in the surrounding bog?"
"Oh I would think so dear. Can't say for certain myself. I've lived here my whole life and I've heard stories of them but never seen one personally." he thinks a moment. "It's like the Watcher I suppose. Everyone has heard stories about him too but I know he's real cos I seen him with my own eyes." he beams with pride and self-importance.
"We're pretty remote here. Just us and the Neighbours down Bay. We don't have much trouble from the Soddentimbers and I'm guessing they don't either but that'[s not to say I'd want to go wandrin' round in there."
"Tell me about this Watcher and these Neighbors. We've heard talk of them, but haven't any idea who you or the other townfolk are speaking of."
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A silence falls over the workshop as Croon speaks. Till now you regarded the man as an eccentric inventor of curiosities but when he talks about the Watcher his old eyes light up with a sparkle of childhood imagination.
"Every bay town has a sea monster legend and the Watcher ain’t no different to that. ‘Cept I seen it. Only once back when I was a kid. Jasper Stane has taken to sacrificing animals on his boats as some kinda offerin’ to the Beast ‘cos he reckons he seen it too. But I’m betting what he saw weren’t the Watcher."
"When I was a boy my parents owned one of the big houses on the hill. It had two floors and a widow’s walk around the top. Oftentimes I would go up there and take my da’s shipglass to look out over the Bay and one night when the moon sat low in the sky, lightin’ up the Bay like a ship’s light, that’s when I saw it. That was more’n 60 years ago and it was like yesterday."
"It was hunren’ feet if it was an inch end to end. Thirty in diameter too, kind of tapered to one end that crawled with tentacles like a squid and must have extended that length to god-knows-what. It was like a barrel except there was bulging ridges in the middle instead of iron staves. In between these ridges were curious growths like combs or wings that must have folded up because it unfurled ‘em and spread ‘em out like fans... I dunno why such a creature would have had wings but the span musta been..." he just shakes his head, unable to speak on such a thing.
You notice beads of sweat begin to form on his brow and his hands tremble as he tells the tale. You begin to wonder if that sparkle in his eye is truly childhood reminiscing or the light of madness.
"But the worst was the head. An enormous arrangement like a five-pointed starfish, ridged with spines and teeth of innumerable amount and in the centre a single, staring eye. Somehow it looked like that eye watched me even over that great distance and when it rolled over white... I just about lost my water... then it was gone. It didn’t break the surface. It just... wasn’t."
"Ever since I wanted to know what was in the Bay. The Watcher an’ else besides."
"Why are you so interested in the Watcher? The Isinglass is just a ship but what I'm working on is much more than that. A reliable means of subaqueous travel and exploration, a craft capable of withstanding the tremendous depths at the bottom of the Bay and revealing all what may lie there. In my lifetime there have been no fewer than 42 shipwrecks in the ten miles along the coast from here to Thrushmoor. That's a lot of salvage...." he asks without looking up.
Zed perks up from his quiet shadowing when Croon lights up about the monster story.
As Croon's description wends on, the hairs on the back of Vala's neck prickle as it brings to mind the effigy which had been stolen from Leipstadt. She shudders involuntarily, "That sounds dreadful, Horace. Chillingly so." She shakes off the eerie unease that slithers up her spine and refocuses on her initial question, "What about the Neighbors, though? I didn't think there was another settlement nearby."