Freeport Forever [3/6 - Company Of Heroes] FINAL UPDATE!

[peteyfrogboy]

I have wanted to run a city-based campaign for a long time, but the task of creating a city from whole cloth is more than I have the time or ability to undertake. I'd looked at a few city sourcebooks, but never found one that really spoke to me. In all honesty, when Freeport: City Of Adventure spoke to me, it said "I'm 70% off!" so it was hard to resist. After digesting the content of the book, however, I was hooked. Soon after starting the campaign everyone in the gaming group went to see Pirates of the Caribbean, which didn't hurt any.

I've tried to run campaigns before, in both published and homebrew worlds, always with limited success. This was something of a last attempt to get a campaign off the ground, so when I created the world around Freeport I threw every idea I had ever had into it. The world outside of Freeport itself is only roughly defined and primarily exists to give a cultural context. The specifics can be found here. I've changed a few things here and there and added a whole lot of people, places, and organizations. I decided against using gunpowder -- it's bad enough just having wizards around without having to worry about everybody else blowing stuff up.

The campaign began in a piecemeal fashion. In fact, to this point there hasn't been a single session with all characters present. More on that later. One of the joys of a city based campaign is that I can easily leave people out of a particular adventure without having to spend lots of time getting everybody back together again.

Anyway, on to the story!

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Beginnings

The Silver Wind sat low in the water beside the pier. Since her launch six months ago, she had been through a lot. Her maiden voyage from Freeport to the distant lands of the Far West was a success, however. Her hold was loaded with spices, silk, and other exotic goods.

In addition to trade goods, the explorers had returned with a new crew member. Gambumbo Weego joined the crew to replace the ship's cook who went missing during their resupply stop at one of the many small islands in the middle of the Astra Ocean. He had taken to his new duties easily, keeping the ship fed during the last two months before they reached Freeport. There had been no losses among the crew due to hunger or malnutrition, though a couple of them had apparently gone overboard in the night.

Gambumbo descended the gangplank along with the rest of the crew. He stood out from his fellows, his sun-baked and tattooed face outside of even the broad diversity of Ahandrian coloration. As he reached the bottom of the ramp he was greeted by Captain Kayleigh Harrington with her thanks and a heavy pouch of coin. Gambumbo favored her with his unnerving sharp-toothed smile as he received his wages and headed into the city.

After a visit to the market, he walked north to explore more of the city. Soon enough he found himself alone on a small side street. He never heard the footsteps approching behind him, nor the sap swinging toward his skull...

***

Parika leaped off the ship before it had even stopped moving. Two weeks aboard with nothing but cattle and the captain for company was enough. Fortunately for her, the captain was too old to act on any of his lecherous thoughts and the crew had been too busy. The price had been right, though, and she had made it to Freeport with most of her savings intact.

Freeport was far different from the sprawling cities she was used to in Ahandria. Everything here seemed to be squeezed together, with many buildings two or even three stories tall. At least the crowds of people were familiar to her. For the first time in her life, though, she didn't feel self-conscious about the fey features she had inherited from her father. There were Ahandrians, Morils, Kufriti, Tavians, even Dhevrils and Wildermen here in the throng. Stranger still, she saw a variety of non-humans of all shapes and sizes. No one spared them a passing glance, not even the orcs.

She reflexively checked her coin purse before joining the morning street traffic. Her first order of business was to find some real food. More or less at random, she wandered inland a block or so and ended up at the Black Gull. The place was mostly empty, with only a few bleary eyed sailors trying to recall (or forget) the events of the previous night. Parika ordered herself a bowl of stew and wine and retired to a corner table.

With a long sigh, the half-elf allowed herself to relax a little. Everything she had ever known was now six hundred miles away across the Dragon Sea. The parents who had abandoned her, the orphanage and its depraved priests, even the city streets where she had learned to fend for herself. Like so many others before, Parika saw Freeport as a fresh start. This was a place where she could finally pursue her own dreams.

The exact nature of those dreams was still somewhat vague. The easy domestic life held little appeal. Parika wanted to be in control of her own life, but she had no faith in traditional authority figures. The only people in power that she had any respect for were the crime bosses who ruled over the city streets. They were dishonest by definition, of course, but at least they didn't pretend to be virtuous. The trick, of course, was that she didn't know exactly how to begin a great career in crime.

As she ate her breakfast, the half-elf took in her surroundings. Aside from the barkeep and his pet raven, the place seemed to consist solely of sailors. Not really the best source of information on the local underworld. In all likelihood, they knew as little about Freeport as she did. Just as she was about to leave, however, someone came through the door who caught her eye.

It would have been hard for the newcomer to contrast more with the rest of the Black Gull's clientele. She wore a gown of blue silk that turned heads as she entered. Her dark hair was in several braids in the Kufriti style, and her features were accentuated by cosmetic skill worthy of any courtesan. Her eyes traversed the room as she gracefully floated toward a table. As she saw Parika, she gave a smile and a tiny nod. Seating herself, the woman in blue signaled the bartender for a pitcher of wine.

Parika was naturally intrigued by this butterfly in a room full of moths. She felt uncomfortable approaching a complete stranger, but at the moment everyone fell into that category. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she told herself as she went to say hello.

"May I join you?" she asked as she came to the woman's table.

The woman in blue looked up and smiled. "Certainly." She gestured to a chair and Parika sat. "I'm waiting for a friend of mine and would appreciate the company." The woman gave Parika a quick, appraising glance. "You're new in town, I presume?"

Parika chuckled uncomfortably. "What gave me away?"

"One doesn't normally find a woman alone in a place like this, at least not at this hour." She thanked the barkeep as he brought her a pitcher and goblet. She poured some of the dark red wine for herself, then offered to refill Parika's cup. The two continued to chat, but as Parika drank she began to have trouble following the conversation. She tried to figure out when her companion would have had a chance to drug her drink, but by that point, logical thought had become impossible.

 

[peteyfrogboy]

The Welcoming Committee

Parika woke in the dark. Her head was pounding, but she was otherwise unhurt. She took stock of her situation. She was bound hand and foot on a wooden floor. Her sword and bow were gone, but her hidden daggers and lockpicks seemed to still be in place. She tested her bonds and found them tight but poorly tied. Stretching her fingers, she was able to get enough of a grip to undo the knot on her wrists. After that it was trivial to untie her feet.

Freed, Parika turned to the mystery of her location. She could hear the sounds of people breathing, so she wasn't alone in her predicament. The smell of many bodies mingled with the tang of salt air and another odor that was unpleasant and strong but not easily identifiable. From that information Parika deduced that she really wished she could see anything. She thought she could hear someone speaking from below her, but it was too faint for her to make out any words.

Moving slowly and quietly, she rose from the ground and began to feel her way around the room. Picking her way around bodies -- some of which moved out of her way -- she was able to find a wall. Moving around the room, she found what felt like a boarded up window. She tried to pry one of the boards loose, but was rewarded only with a loud creak that made her freeze in her tracks. The voices below stopped and she heard heavy footfalls from below her. A deep and raspy voice shouted from somewhere below, "Quit movin' around up there or I'll hafta come up an' bust some heads!" A few whimpers could be heard from the other prisoners.

The footsteps returned to where they had been. Parika slowly let out her breath and continued to move around the room. Threat or no threat, she wasn't about to sit around and wait for whatever fate her captors had planned for her. When her circuit of the room was nearly complete, her foot found empty air. Gently probing downward, it seemed to be an open hole in the floor. Further experimentation found it to be about two paces wide by four paces. The room itself was perhaps twenty by thirty feet and littered with debris in addition to people. In her exploration, Parika had found one apparently unconscious prisoner shackled to the wall, as well as an empty pair of iron manacles. The only exit from the room seemed to be the hole in the floor.

Desperate as she may have been, Parika wasn't about to jump down a hole in pitch darkness without knowing at least how much it was going to hurt. She took a small piece of plaster that had crumbled from the wall and dropped it down the hole. From the sound, it sounded like the fall was no more than ten feet, probably less. Unfortunately, someone else heard the sound as well.

"Right, that's it! Someone's gonna bleed!" The feet came stomping across the room below again, and the sound of something large and wooden being moved could be heard. Parika rushed across the room and lay down behind another prisoner, pretending to be bound and unconscious. Parika tried to breathe evenly as she heard someone ascending a creaky ladder. The sound stopped and Parika counted her heartbeats.

"Somebody was movin' around up here. Who was it?" growled the voice.

The man Parika was hiding behind cried out, "He's over here! Please don't hurt us!" The half-elf kicked him and rose to a crouch, drawing a dagger. Her captor could obviously see in the dark, which put her at an almost suicidal disadvantage, but she had no choice.

Without warning, the room blazed with light. It was no brighter than a torch, but after the pitch dark it was almost painful. In the sudden light Parika could see a large half-orc shielding his eyes from the light. He was standing at the top of a ladder that had been leaned against the top of the hole where stairs had once been. On the other side of the room she saw a dark-skinned man with a tattooed face wearing the stained clothes of a sailor. He was unarmed but moving his hands in a way that suggested that the light was his doing.

Not about to waste her luck, Parika flung her dagger at the half-orc, but her aim was off. He came up the ladder in her direction, but the blast of red light that streaked from Gambumbo's fingers to slam into the side of his head made him change direction. As the murderous halfbreed made his way through the sea of bound prisoners, another face appeared at the top of the ladder. It was almost familiar to Parika, though now her charming breakfast companion had short green hair and blue, scaly skin. The woman tossed a dagger of her own, drawing a line of blood across Gambumbo's thigh. The half-orc finally reached the islander and knocked him to the floor with one blow from his iron-studded club.

Parika knew that club was coming her way next, so she took the initiative and charged into the fray. Showing more courage than she would have given them credit for before, some of the prisoners rolled up against the half-orc's legs, putting him off balance enough to let Parika sink her dagger into his hip. Roaring with rage and streaming blood down his leg, the half-orc smashed the skull of one of the prisoners and disentangled himself, moving away toward the ladder. As he passed Parika, though, she slashed her dagger across the underside of his arm. The weakened half-orc crashed to the floor, bleeding.

Seeing that her partner had been taken out, the blue-skinned woman scurried down the ladder and disappeared. The sound of the ladder clattering to the floor dashed any hopes Parika had for a quick pursuit. She made sure the half-orc would not get up again, then went to see if the islander was still alive. He was unconscious, but in no mortal danger. A cheer went up from the remaining prisoners, and Parika went about the task of freeing them.

Eventually, Parika went down the hole and wrestled the ladder into place, allowing everyone else to descend. All of their possessions were safe downstairs, abandoned by the fleeing kidnapper. Gambumbo was eventually revived, as was the man shackled to the wall. Parika picked the lock on his manacles and he thanked her profusely. His name was Burton Lund, a longshoreman by trade. He had tried to escape earlier but had received nothing but a headache for his troubles. Before he left he told Parika and Gambumbo that he could be found through the Union if they ever needed anything.

Emerging from the run-down house, none of the prisoners were sure where they were, though most guessed by the disrepair and smell that it was somewhere in Scurvytown. They dispersed in small groups, leaving Parika and Gambumbo to find their own way out. The two introduced themselves and decided to stick together for the time being. They picked a direction and started walking. Fortunately for them of all the unsavory characters they could have run into during their tour of the Freebooters' Quarter they found the most harmless: Captain Frick.

Captain Frick was an ancient mariner and ex-pirate whose wealth of stories was exceeded only by his lack of limbs. And perhaps by his desire for drink. For the promise of a pint at the Broken Mug he not only guided them out of Scurvytown but also gave them a general overview of the various districts of the city. Once they reached Frick's watering hole Gambumbo accompanied him inside to help him get marinated. He and Parika agreed to meet back up later at the Black Gull.

DM Notes:
* Yes, this was a big railroad. It was essentially a variation on the "you all get press ganged" trick.
* I originally had the PCs make rolls (to spot the half-orc and resist the poison), but then I realized that they had to fail to move the plot forward. Choo choo!
* The fight with the kidnappers went about how I wanted it, but the rolls started going against the PCs toward the end. I had the prisoners assist near the end as sort of a fudge. It's not cool to have a TPK during your party gathering scenario.
* One of the reasons that things didn't balance out right toward the end was that I had expected four PCs instead of just two. I had also expected at least one fighter type, which I didn't have.

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Settling In

Parika rolled over in her bed, smiling as the ropes creaked. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept in a proper bed and she felt no need to cut the experience short. Her further attempts to learn more about the local criminal element the previous night had been fruitless. When she finally met back up with Gambumbo he was wet and broke. She was too tired by that point to ask any questions. The two of them headed away from the docks, hoping to find somewhat more upscale accommodations. They stumbled into the first decent inn they saw, got a room, and slept.

Lifting her head ever so slightly, Parika cracked an eye open to look down at the floor. The rug where Gambumbo had slept was empty, so he must have gotten up early. More power to him, she thought. She lay back and considered her current strategy for personal advancement. So far it had gotten her exactly nowhere, but she couldn't come up with any other viable option. She had heard stories of what the Guild did to independent thieves back home, and she has no desire to go down that path. She was determined to learn how deep the water was here before diving in.

Too much thinking had driven the sleep from her head, and she reluctantly got out of bed. The smell of frying bacon and biscuits from below gave her a little more motivation, and before long she was trotting down the stairs to the common room.

When she had first arrived Parika hadn't paid any attention to the decor, being more concerned with a soft horizontal place to put her body. In the morning light she decided that the place looked like she would imagine her grandmother's house, had she ever known her. Everything was very pleasant and rustic. It certainly didn't look like it belonged in a famous pirate haven -- and perhaps that was the point. Behind the desk was the same little old man that had been there the night before. His little old wife bustled in and out of the kitchen, bringing food out to a long table set along one wall of the room. There were a few other guests sitting at tables eating, alone or in pairs. They looked mostly like traveling merchants and artisans.

As she availed herself of the fine food, Parika saw someone else descend the stairs. After her previous experience with strangers in Freeport she was wary, so she studied him carefully. He was tall and slim, with short brown hair and green eyes. He looked young, but his ears revealed that he shared the same fey heritage that had caused Parika so much pain in her youth. His clothes were stylish yet tasteful, perhaps a little more flashy than absolutely necessary. Adding to that the lute case slung over his shoulder gave Parika a good idea of his profession. The man greeted the little old lady warmly, giving her a peck on the cheek as he passed her. He sat in the middle of the room with a plate full of fruit and biscuits and began tuning his lute.

Parika gnawed thoughtfully on a strip of bacon. If there was anything to know about this town, surely a bard would be the one to know it? And if he happened to be an attractive half-elven bard that certainly didn't hurt her resolve any. Hoping that lightning wouldn't strike her twice, she went over and introduced herself.

Despite her forward greeting, the bard rose to his feet and gave her a small bow. "Delthic Duin at your service. Would you care to join me for breakfast?"

Parika sat and chatted with him, mostly about the inn. Delthic had lived there for years, finding it to be a haven of civility in an often uncivil city. Still, he added, if Freeport were tame it wouldn't be Freeport.

Finally Parika got around to her real question: "So, if someone had... special talents... where might she be able to find gainful employment?"

Delthic raised an eyebrow, then smiled slightly as he mentally discarded one possibility. "Well, there are many talented people in this city. I would humbly count myself as one of them, and I have managed to find employment at any number of fine establishments. But perhaps your talents do not lend themselves to... public performance?" At Parika's nod, he said, "Well, I may have some resources for you. If you would accompany me up to my room, perhaps I could show them to you?"

In another inn, with another person, this proposition would have earned a laugh, if not a dagger. In the current situation, however, it was met with eager acceptance.

***

Delthic sat on the edge of his bed, offering Parika the chair at his desk. The room was packed full of stuff, though it wasn't untidy. Clearly this was a permanent residence, not just a way station for an itinerant performer. From what Parika could see displayed, she deduced that Delthic was well travelled. Being a bard with an Ahandrian accent, this was hardly surprising. She sat in the proffered chair.

"So, you're looking for work, eh?" Delthic asked, rubbing his chin. "What sort of work do you do?"

Parika hadn't ever had to put together a criminal resume before. "Um, breaking and entering, mostly. Taking things that aren't nailed down, that sort of thing." It sounded strange to say it out loud.

The bard nodded. "I see. Well, this sort of thing isn't exactly my area of expertise, but I might be able to get you in touch with someone who knows someone." He frowned slightly. "You realize that I would be taking quite a risk? I hardly know you, so my vouching for you would be a complete act of faith." Parika nodded, and he grinned. "But I like to think I'm a good judge of character. I think you'll do just fine."

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Death In Freeport: Part 1

Naturally, this section contains spoilers about the module Death In Freeport. Read at your own risk.

Two days had passed since Parika first met with Delthic. Aside from learning her way around the Eastern District, she hadn't done much. Her savings were still enough to keep a roof over her head for quite a while, especially since Gambumbo had apparently managed to pay for their room for the next week. She hadn't seen the islander since they came to the inn, except when he was asleep.

Last night he hadn't come home at all. Parika was awoken by him stumbling through the door bruised and naked except for a crown of thorns. Shaking her head, she went out to buy some clothes for him from a ragman. When she returned to the inn, she ran into Delthic in the common room.

"Ah, there you are," he said, smiling. He handed her a small folded piece of paper. "Here's the address of that man you wanted to meet." Parika smiled and thanked him. "My pleasure. Also, if you and your friend aren't busy this morning, I'm going to meet with a friend's daughter who just came into town. I was going to give her a quick primer on city and I thought you might want to sit in."

***

An hour later everyone met up at the Black Gull and introductions were made. Tall and athletic, Rachel Caldwell had an air of confidence about her. She was well dressed in the style of a mariner, complete with a cutlass in a weathered scabbard at her hip. Since coming to Freeport Parika had started to grow accustomed to the mannish clothing favored by female sailors and warriors. She herself had quickly taken to dressing in men's clothes when she left the orphanage, as skirts simply got in the way. She had always heard that Kufriti women often dressed (scandalously!) in men's garb.

Accompanying Rachel was a young man dressed in similarly fine clothes but clearly uncomfortable in them. He was not introduced, though at one point Parika heard Rachel refer to him as "Dufa". Gambumbo grinned toothily at hearing the name, but Parika never got a chance to ask about it.

After introductions had been made, Delthic gave a quick rundown of the physical and political layout of the city. He also sang the short version of one of the songs recounting the Great Raid and the subsequent founding of Freeport as an independent city. After fielding a few more questions, he accompanied Dufa back to the inn with his and Rachel's luggage.

Rachel, Parika, and Gambumbo chatted and ate for a while longer before deciding to head back to the inn. As Gambumbo opened the door to leave, however, he saw a small mob of sailors out in the street. One of them pointed his way, shouting, "That's him! Get him!"

***

Rachel and Parika looked over at the door just in time to see eight club-wielding sailors rush Gambumbo. One of them landed a blow right between the islander's eyes, laying him out instantly. The mob seemed to hesitate for moment, not expecting such an easy target. Their blood was up already, though, so they turned on Gambumbo's friends. By this point the other patrons had taken refuge under tables and the barkeep was down behind the bar. Only the raven was still in view, shrieking "You break it, you bought it!"

Rachel and Parika drew their weapons and looked at each other, then ran for the back door. Parika threw it open, only to find a dark storage room. "Where's the back door?" she shouted.

"There ain't no back door," replied the barkeep from his hiding place.

"What kind of bar doesn't have a back door?" she complained, but the only answer was a shrug. The mob bore down on them, chasing the two women over the bar. They both took several hits, only managing to score a few wounds on the half-drunk sailors. Parika saw an opportunity and ran for the front door, making a beeline back to the inn.

Rachel took a stand, though she knew she was hopelessly outnumbered. One of the sailors grabbed her by the shirt and she pulled away, losing a few buttons. As the neck of the shirt fell open, a heavy gold medallion swung free, cast in the shape of an eye wreathed in flames. She noticed a couple of the sailors whose eyes glanced toward the pendant.

"Do you like it?" she asked, "My daddy gave it to me." From any other person this would not be a threat, but Rachel's father was Mad Randall Grayson, a notorious Kufriti pirate and captain of the Burning Eye. The thought of Mad Randall's wrath was enough to chill their blood, and the mob quickly removed themselves from the premises. Rachel hated to be reduced to name-dropping, but fighting dirty is the better part of staying alive.

The patrons began to emerge from under the tables. One of them, wearing the red robes of a priest, ran to Gambumbo's side. Unfortunately there was nothing to be done by then but perform last rites. The priest rose and approached Rachel. "That was amazing," he said. "You must be a formidable warrior." The pirate's daughter was certainly not going to correct his mistake. The priest, whose name was Brother Edwin, explained that he was looking for someone capable to help him find a librarian friend of his who had gone missing. Rachel was able to deduce quickly that Edwin was a member of the Order of St. Uller, a scholarly order with a large presence in most cities due to their extensive libraries and skill at record keeping. While she had no particular inclination to go looking for a lost librarian, the coin Edwin was offering was sufficient to pique her interest.

By the time they left for the inn the Guard had already made their cursory inquiries and hauled Gambumbo's body away.

DM Notes:
* I couldn't decide how I wanted to pronounce Egil, so I renamed him Edwin.
* I replaced the press gang attack with a mob looking for Gambumbo. It was intended as an easy encounter; if even one of the mob had been taken down the rest would have fled. Unfortunately, the party rolled poorly and the mob rolled well.
* After weeks of searching for a replacement member for the gaming group, my wife unexpectedly volunteered to play. At this point there are theoretically four PCs. More on this later.

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Eulogy For A Cannibal

Ah, Gambumbo. He was the first character that was created for the campaign, and the first to go. After hearing his options, his player asked if he could make an evil island cannibal sorcerer. I told him to go for it, even though I've pretty much had my fill of trying to deal with evil characters. I figured that either he would reform or would become the victim of his own wicked ways. As it turned out, the latter was the case. I was certainly not out to get him -- I had half a dozen plots centered on him that went out the window when he died.

I've edited out most of his presence in the story hour because it was largely solo and completely tangential to the main plot. Also, the exploits of evil PCs don't make for family friendly story hours. I will give the highlights here for posterity.

--- BEWARE: HERE LIE EVIL ACTS ---

Gambumbo was a sorcerer, the apprentice of his tribe's wise man. When the foreigners came to their island, the wise man decided that they needed to find out more about them to determine if they were a threat. Following tribal tradition, they captured one of them and consumed his flesh in a special ritual to gain his knowledge. Gambumbo was intrigued by the strange culture and managed to get himself hired onto the ship. The crew were impressed with his knowledge of the Tavian language. On the way back to Freeport he managed to sacrifice two crew members during the wee hours of the night.

When he arrived in Freeport his goal was to start a career as a chef. To this end the first thing he did was purchase a set of knives. Naturally, he got cheated on the price. Welcome to Freeport, buddy! He wandered further into the city and get waylaid in an alley by Razzik the half-orc.

After the escape he originally intended to get Captain Frick drunk and sacrifice him, but at some point the phrases "That man is not legal tender" and "No, I have gold" led to a bar fight involving magic missiles, trap doors, and lots of awful swim checks. Later on he managed to get his pocket picked anyway.

After the events in The Welcoming Committee he landed a job at a struggling restaurant, displacing the owner's brother who only knew how to make pancakes. Within a day he had managed to impress a trio of restaurant critics with his signature dish "Salt Pork With Whiskey". That night he managed to botch a sacrifice in the kitchen. The next day he improved his culinary reputation further. When he went cruising for sacrifices again, he ran across a crazy druid and his pet bear who gave him a sound thrashing and left him naked in an alley wearing a crown of thorns as a message (to whom, I'm not certain). Thus it was that the next day he had only healed back to 2 HP when he got jumped by the barfly he blasted his first night in town. The first hit on him was a crit, which was intended as subdual damage but still ended up dropping him to -9. With no effective healers, he had no chance.

And thus endeth our lesson about the perils of being evil.

 

[pogre]

Well done!

A miniatures thread and a story hour! A man after my own heart. I look forward to your next installment.

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Death In Freeport: Part 2

Nevroth stood at the rail of the cutter as it entered Freeport Harbor. Laid out before him was the legendary pirate city. He spat into the water. Pirates.

To put it mildly, Nevroth hated pirates. When he was ten years old he watched as pirates murdered his father and abducted his mother. Returning to Ahandria an orphan, he learned to survive on his own, driven by his desire for revenge. He studied pirates, learning what he could from sailors' stories. Two years ago he joined the Manhunters' Guild to gain further training.

When he was asked to choose an assignment for his first solo hunt, it was an easy decision. A small Ulleran temple needed someone to hunt down a man named Lucius who had stolen two of their books. He had claimed to be a librarian from the temple in Freeport...

***

Edwin led Rachel and Parika to Lucius's house, a small building in Drac's End. When they arrived they found a man standing in front of the door. "Can I help you?" asked Edwin.

The man turned, surprised. "My name is Nevroth. I'm looking for a man named Lucius. The temple said he lived here."

"So are we," said Parika. She glanced at Edwin, but the priest looked as nonplussed as she. "Who sent you?"

"A temple on the mainland. He stole some books from their library."

Edwin frowned. "I can't imagine Lucius doing such a thing. But as I told you earlier, he claims that he has no memory of the last five years. He was acting very strangely before he left the temple and went abroad; perhaps it was indeed him." He shrugged. "At any rate, we all seem to be looking for the same man. Perhaps we should work together?"

***

The group gathered in the main room of Lucius's house to go over what they had found during their search.

"Okay," said Parika, "what have we got?"

Nevroth placed a sheet of parchment and a battered journal on the desk. "Just these."

Rachel brushed a cobweb from her shoulder. "Nothing down in the basement, except some empty bookshelves. They seemed newer than the other furniture, if that's important."

Edwin shook his head. "The back room held only supplies. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Nevroth held up the parchment. "This is a list of things he was planning to do. Sleep, talk to someone named Captain Scarbelly, something about turnips..." he glanced at Edwin, who only shrugged, "...update his diary, and examine some travel logs." He tapped the journal with a finger. "We have the diary, but what travel logs is he referring to?"

"I don't know," said Edwin. "He never mentioned anything like that to me."

Parika frowned. "Okay, so what's in the diary?"

"Most of the beginning is very boring librarian stuff. Then there's a five year gap. That must be when Edwin said he was acting strange and traveling. Then a year ago he starts making new entries again. More recently he complains of bizarre dreams. By the end he sounds very paranoid. The last entry is a week ago."

Parika flipped through the diary, then set it down again. "So, where do we start?"

"We still don't know how he got readmitted to the temple," said Rachel. "Maybe we should start there."

DM Notes:
* Most of the conversations have been paraphrased. Often they were conducted with a lot of hand-waving and dice-rolling. My main goal is to stay true to the original intent and sequence of events.

 

[peteyfrogboy]

Death In Freeport: Part 3

"Well, that didn't get us anywhere." Parika grumbled. "Who does that Milos guy think he is, anyway?"

"He's the high priest's assistant," said Nevroth. "And we did learn something: Lucius got back into the temple by donating books he acquired during his travels. And I'd wager I know what two of them are."

"Right, but he wouldn't let us see them. I bet those travel logs are in there too." She glared at the temple as if she could intimidate it into revealing its secrets. "I bet Edwin could get at those books."

"I doubt it. If he could, he would have already. Besides, he said he didn't want us to get him involved any more than he already is. With a boss like Milos, I can understand why."

Rachel shrugged. "Well, any way you look at it, this is a dead end. Maybe we should try to find this Scarbelly character instead?"

"You guys go on without me. I'll meet you back at the inn," said Parika.

***

It didn't take long for Rachel and Nevroth to find out who Captain Scarbelly was. His ship was moored by itself; no one wanted to tie up next to a bunch of orcish pirates.

Rachel walked up to the gangplank, where a burly orc stood guard. "We want to talk to your captain."

The orc blinked his piggy eyes at her. "So what?"

Nevroth stepped forward. "Look, we don't want any trouble. We just need to ask the captain a few questions."

"That not my problem." The orc grinned and fingered the hilt of his cutlass. "And me like trouble."

At that point, another orc came stomping up to the rail. He shoved the guard aside, sending him splashing into the water below. "What you doing here? Why you waste crew's time with talky-talky?"

"Are you Scarbelly?" asked Rachel.

"Ha!" The orc beat his chest with a gloved fist. "Aggro. Captain not here. Now push off!"

"Wait. Where can we find him?"

The orc shrugged. "Me not know. Me not care if you find him."

Nevroth looked over the side of the pier at the orc thrashing in the water. He didn't seem to be doing very well. "Did anyone else come looking for him?" asked the manhunter. "A man named Lucius, perhaps?"

Aggro scowled, as though the act of thinking was causing him pain. "Little skinny human? White skin?" Nevroth nodded. "Me remember. You know what me tell him? Push off!"

Rachel sighed and the two headed back up the pier. "Well that wasn't very helpful."

"At least we know he's still alive. Or was recently, at any rate." Nevroth scratched his head. "But why was he looking for an orcish pirate anyway? It doesn't make any sense."

"Who knows?" Rachel looked around the busy docks. "Maybe the harbormaster might know where Scarbelly is."

It didn't take long to find him. Kaddaceous Serlin was making his rounds, flanked by half a dozen of the Sea Lord's Guard. The elf had been running the docks for longer than anyone could remember, and the years of practice had made him nothing if not efficient. When Nevroth and Rachel asked about the orc ship, he sneered without looking up from his paperwork. "They're a pox, that's what they are. The sooner they're gone, the better."

Nevroth raised an eyebrow. "Since when did Freeport have a problem with pirates in port?"

"I don't care what they do when they're at sea. But when they empty an entire pier with their stink it costs the city money. I'll be just as glad as the merchants when they leave."

"Merchants?" asked Rachel. "Have the orcs been causing problems?"

"The crew have been behaving themselves, but the captain fancies himself a gourmand." The elf snorted. "He's been making the rounds of local restaurants and practically shutting them down."

***

"What you mean, no food?" The shout was followed by people scurrying out the door of Mickleberry's Restaurant. Rachel and Nevroth exchanged a glance and headed inside.

A large, garishly dressed orc was standing in the middle of the restaurant, brandishing a chair. Waiters cowered in the corners, while the hostess tried to hide behind a potted plant. "I'm sorry, ah... sir... but our chef seems to have gone missing."

"Bah! Me no care. You find him. Me want special "Salt Pork With Whiskey" everyone talking about."

The hostess looked pleadingly at the two people coming in the door. Rachel approached the enraged orc. "Ah, Captain Scarbelly, I presume?"

The orc glared at her through narrowed eyes. "Who you? You chef?"

"No, my friend and I just had some questions for you."

Scarbelly smashed the chair on a nearby table, showering Rachel with splinters. "Grah! Me too hungry to talk." He grumbled something about "false advertising".

Nevroth said, "Perhaps we could go somewhere else to talk? We could by your lunch."

The pirate captain paused in mid-rant. "Go somewhere else? Anywhere?" Nevroth nodded uncertainly. Scarbelly grinned.

***

Rachel and Nevroth sat across the linen-draped table from Scarbelly as he perused the Diving Fin's menu. A waiter stood nearby, apparently unaware that his customer was anything out of the ordinary. Scarbelly stabbed a clawed finger at the menu. "Me have Sea Lord's Feast."

The waiter raised an eyebrow. "You are aware that it is a seven course meal, sir?"

The orc scratched his nose. "Good point. Make it two."

Nevroth gaped when he looked at the menu, but dutifully handed the waiter a heavy pouch of gold coins. "Now, do you remember a man by the name of Lucius?"

Scarbelly already had soup dripping from his matted beard. "Yeah, me remember him. He ask questions about before. Not buy me such good food though."

"Before?" asked Rachel. "Before when?"

"He was on me ship before. Three, four years ago. It funny, he ask about it like he not remember."

"Why was he on board your ship? I would think he could find, um, cheaper passage elsewhere."

The orc shrugged, crunching a whole crab in his maw. "He say he want to watch us. Made lots of writing in book. It very strange, but he pay good so me not ask questions."

"Where did he leave your ship?" asked Nevroth.

"Me not remember. Somewhere on mainland. That all me know."

Leaving the captain to his lunch, the two headed back to the inn.

 

[pogre]

That half-orc captain reminds me of someone.