Dockside Diversion/Still Waters

"Dear me, no!" exclaims Aldino as he gazes out at the tangle of buildings, very few more than a story or two tall, just beyond the dock. "That jumble looks as bad as Ranocchio district when it comes to navigation. All narrow walkways and drops into mud pits! I'll just find a quiet spot out of the way here and enjoy the sea breeze and a tankard of ale before we head upriver. You all run along, I'll be fine here near Captain Lotti."

 

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Leaving Aldino behind Borric, Nathan, Sylvain and Zelena head off into the so-called city of K'issp. The lair of the two dragons that claim rulership of this stretch of coast and the lower Ouhm is certainly impressive, towering as it does over the low buildings clustered around its base and on the two spits of land that make up the rest of the island. The four pass by the only other building of significant size, a two story wooden structure built on pylons over the water and overlooking the docks, that appears to be whatever passes as the harbormaster here.

The people of K'issp all seem to be washed up here from other shores: Venzans, Teshali, halflings, even a sole Jiragoan but all bear a similar worn, sun-bleached look to them. There are only a few lizardfolk around which seems odd considering this is supposedly their city until, following directions to the shop given them by Almar Ben Shawari, they stumble out of the clustered huts of K'issp and get a view towards the river and the mainland.

The wide channel of the Ouhm winds through a maze of tall grass and smaller branches off the river and islands of silt left over gods knows how long. Many of those low islands bear several smooth mounds, some of mud, some that appear to be giant shells, and most with a lizardfolk or two basking in the sun.

Looking out over this view, wedged between a fish-seller's shack with a stunning array of aquatic life hung from poles and a lean-to housing a trio of tiny frog-like humanoids chirruping to themselves and staring with wide-set eyes at the four of you, is the familiar and somewhat out of place glass-fronted shop: the Mystic Pearl.
 

"Just one second, everyone. I hope they have my order in," Syl says excitedy, rushing for the door to the magic shop.

He emerges fairly quickly thereafter with a shiny new Haversack strapped to his side. "I can carry much more now. All the better for lugging around all that drawven gold we are going to find, right," he laughs.
 

Nathan Tchanlach, human sorcerer

Nathan shakes his head as the Pearl makes another appearance, and says to no one in particular, "Some day I have to learn that trick."
 

Zelena smiles at Syl noticing his new pack, "I picked up one of those back In Venza. I have all sorts of things stored now."

"Good luck," the gnome says with a great laugh at Nathan, "I asked once, and was told in no uncertain terms, 'When the universe colapses into nothingness.'

Spotting the tiny frog-like humanoids looking at them the gnome waves, "Merry meet!" ((Linguistics to understand them 1d20+5=16 Nothing here ))
 

Borric Hawkins, Male Human Fighter

Borric looks at the storefront and blurts, "That does look out of place in this arse-hole of the world."

The uncouth fighter is not impressed, and cannot help himself to express it.

"Something tells me we should be careful around here."

Since walking around, Borric has his shield on his arm, but his weapon hand free.

[sblock=Mini Stats]Initiative: +4
AC: 26 (23 without shield, 24 flat-footed, 13 Touch)
HP: 53 Current: 53
CMB: +8 CMD: 21 (23 vs. Trip/Disarm) Fort: +7 Reflex: +4 Will: +3 (+4 vs. Fear)
Conditions in Effect: Feeling jaunty

Current Weapon in Hand: Shield
Chakram: 2/2 MWK & 6/6 Cold Iron remaining
Light Hammers: 2/2 remaining[/sblock]___________________________

Swash1.jpg
Borric Hawkins
 

Sylvain picks up his magical haversack from the proprietor of the Mystic Pearl and quickly gets his gear stowed within.

Zelena makes an attempt to befriend the tiny locals but as she calls out to them they chirrup in alarm and disappear into the back of the lean-to. She presumes they are young of their race unaccustomed to strangers.

Further explorations in K'issp reveal that their drinking establishments and inns are just as seedy and run-down as the rest of the place. Other places of vice are conspicuously absent or well hidden which Borric finds passing strange. After a surprisingly boring night the quartet return to the docks.

Sekmun has had his remaining cargo transferred to a river vessel and the lizardfolk is coming up from the hold when the four adventurers return. Sekmun is speaking with a halfling carrying a waxed board and dressed in a long coat quite out of keeping with the heat and neither appear pleased.

"Too much, Peddleport!" hisses Sekmun.

The halfling officiously taps the board with a stylus. "It's the tax, Master Sekmun. I don't set it, I just collect it."

"It's river piracy, is what it is."

The halfling's face turns a bright red. "Wha... if you are suggesting..."
 

Zelena comes up beside the halfling and smiles, "Merry meet. I am Zelena."

"I am sure Master Sekmun is suggesting nothing of the sort..." She runs a finger along the halfling's shoulder, "Is there nothing you can do for the good Sir?" Zelena give him one of her best pouty look. "Come now, we are not asking for any rules to be broken, just bend, a little." She flashes a smile and a wink as she holds up her hand and as her finger and thumb to show just a little, "After all, You know he is here 'all' the time." (( Diplomacy 1d20+10=11 Use Eternal Hope 1d20+10=20 (the roll is +9, I made an error in her skill +, darn drop down menus sometimes. ;)) ))

The gnomish woman watches for the halfling reaction... (( Sense Motive 1d20+9=18 ))
 
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Nathan Tchanlach, human sorcerer

Nathan hangs back, assuming the charming gnome is probably best off without a gaggle of larger folk towering over the tax collector.
 

Peddleport flinches away from Zelena's touch and puffs up like a toad.

"Please, madam, restrain yourself. 'Bend the rules,' you say? Hmmpf! Clearly you have mistaken me for someone else. I am just a poorly paid contract tax assessor working in sub-optimal, poorly-funded conditions..."

This last is drawn out into a wheedling tone and he raises one eyebrow expectantly. He is clearly thinking more substantial inducement than honeyed words and significant glances.
 

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