Jodo Kast's Savage Tidings (Updated July 9, 2007)

[Sandain]

Excellent story hour

 

[Jodo Kast]

There Is No Honor...

Jouko swatted feebly at the short, chubby finger jabbing his shoulder. “Not again, lass,” he pleaded groggily as he rolled over.

“They be calling for ye!” proclaimed the plump wench beside him. Jouko yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The sound of chanting from the tavern below began to reach his ears.

“Jouko! Jouko! Jouko!”

The bed creaked as Jouko sat up and swung his feet to the dirty floor. The aging barmaid crossed the room and began to dress. Jouko belched loudly and pulled his breeches on. “Ye ain’t lost yer touch, luv,” he offered with a grin.

“Sounds like we both better get down there in a hurry,” she said as she opened the door. Still fumbling with the buttons of her dress, she stepped into the hall. “It was good ta see ya, sweetie. Go easy on the crockery, eh?”

"Of course," Jouko laughed as he reached for the tankard on the bedside table. He drained it in one big gulp and tossed it over his shoulder. The tankard shattered on the dingy floor with a crash. He wiped his mouth on his tattooed forearm as the raucous chanting from the great room below reached a crescendo.

“Jouko! Jouko! Jouko!”

Jouko belched loudly and smiled, pleased with himself. He pulled his knee high boots on and grabbed his duffel from a nearby chair. Stumbling out the door, he leaned heavily upon the railing at the top of the stair and surveyed the tavern's dimly lit great room. The drunken crowd erupted into cheers as Jouko grinned from ear to ear and started down the stairs. “Ye blasted bilge rats! Can’t a man pleasure a wench and rest his bones a bit?”

The mob cheered and swooned as several barmaids scurried around the crowded room, their serving trays laden with tankards of grog. Jouko reached the bottom landing and grabbed a full tankard from a passing serving wench. Spilling grog down his bare chest, he drained half the tankard in several large gulps. Jouko belched loudly. “What be the need for ye freebooters to pull me from the bosom of a bonny lass?” he asked with mock indignation.

“Whirlpool!” came the shouted reply as the drunken crowd began to part, making a small clearing in the center of the room. The innkeeper came charging out of the kitchen. “Noooo!” he cried over the cheers of the crowd. “Not again! You promised!” he pleaded as Jouko staggered into the tight clearing amidst the throng of drunken sailors.

“Ye have nuthin ta worry ‘bout, mate,” Jouko said with a pat on the bald man's head. Several burly sailors grabbed the sobbing innkeeper gruffly and hoisted him overhead. They crossed the room and tossed him through the kitchen door.

Jouko stood in the center of the crowd with his arms outstretched. “Ye ready mates?” The crowd cheered and surged together. Jouko pulled his spiked chain from his duffel. The crowd began to chant again: “Whirlpool! Whirlpool!” Every man within reach extended his arm and sloshed his tankard of grog around. Jouko kicked his duffel to the edge of the ten-foot clearing and started whirling the chain in a slow arc over his head. “Raise ‘em high, ye sea dogs!” bellowed Jouko with glee as he eyed the score of hoisted tankards.

Jouko began turning in a slow circle as he whirled the spiked chain overhead with increasing speed. The chain flew through the air with a rhythmic hum that was barely audible over the cheers and chanting of the drunken throng. With a deft flick of the wrist, Jouko altered the arc of the spiked chain and sent its head smashing through several tankards. The drinking vessels exploded, showering the crowd with grog and bits of crockery. The crowd roared in drunken ecstasy as Jouko wove the spiked chain in dazzling arcs, smashing cups four and five at a time. The gathered throng pulsated with excitement, passing more tankards forward to the circle's edge. Waves of grog and crockery spewed forth from Jouko’s whirling dance.

When there were no more tankards to feed the frenzy of destruction, the crowd pushed forward, waving their arms wildly as the spiked chain whipped past. With a slight tug, Jouko smoothly redirected the chain's momentum into a narrow figure eight. Jouko didn’t see the low-hanging chandelier above him until it was too late. The chain snagged an arm of the chandelier and came rushing back down just as Jouko looked up. The chain's leading head smashed Jouko between the eyes, dropping him to the floor instantly. As the blackness washed over Jouko, the last last sound he heard was the crowd's raucous laughter.

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Upon their arrival at Vanderboren Manor the next morning, the halfling servant Kora Whistlegap ushered Gauruloc, Rubbumba, Verys and Zhandlegarrii into the dining hall. Here, a meal of spiced cheese and pepper omelettes, salt-cured boar-meat, bananas, mango juice and some of the finest product of Sasserine's coffee plantations awaited. Jouko arrived late, reeking of rum and sporting two black eyes and a badly broken nose. He strolled into the hall, sat next to Gauruloc and grabbed a hunk of cheese.

Lavinia Vanderboren joined the party, but did not touch the food on her plate -- her mind seemed to be elsewhere as she stared at the portrait of her brother, Vanthus. Before the meal was finished, Lavinia rose and began speaking wistfully, as if to herself. "Vanthus and I were quite close growing up. We had to be -- our parents were rarely around. We grew to depend on one another, and got into a fair amount of trouble together. After one particularly complex prank involving several elixirs of love being emptied into the nearby water tower, our childhoods together came to an abrupt end. I was sent to the Thenalar Academy to live out the next five years of my life, and Vanthus was shipped out to work on a family plantation.

"When we returned to live in the family manor a year ago, we had both changed. I would like to think that I benefited from my time at Thenalar. Vanthus, on the other hand, spent his time away nurturing his bitterness. He no longer had time for me, slept all day, and spent the nights with associates of doubtful character. Eventually he moved out of the house entirely -- I believe he took up with a lover in Azure District, but I never learned the details.

"When our parents died, Vanthus returned for a week to live at the manor, but he had changed even more. Gone was the easy sense of humor I recalled fondly from our childhood, and in its place was a bitter cynicism and a morbid streak that sent chills up my spine. After several arguments, Vanthus struck me with his fist. I was shocked, and for a moment it seemed Vanthus was as well. But an instant later, he was back to his new self, all scowls and menace. He gathered his belongings and left. I haven't seen him since. I know something profound happened to my brother at some point to change him, but I'm not sure what that was. I believe he's fallen in with a bad crowd, perhaps smugglers or theives or even killers. Although his attitude might speak otherwise, I hope that it's not too late, that if he can be brought back to my side I might talk some sense into him and redeem him before he passes forever out of my reach. Unfortunately, I do not know where he's gone. I would like you to find him, and bring him to me.

"I have few clues to where Vanthus has gone. I recommend asking around about him throughout the city. I doubt he's hiding out in Champion's or Noble District, but even these locations may hold clues. My suspicions that he's been living with a woman in Azure District arose from half-heard rumors, but it remains the strongest -- the only -- lead I have."

Verys nodded solemnly. He could not help but feel for Lavinia. He also knew not to judge her brother too quickly. How close had he himself let bitterness drive him to that exact kind of life? Had it not been for the teachings of his father, he too would have fallen from light. It sounded as though Vanthus had no such influence in his life. The elf vowed that he would do everything in his power to help the Lady Vanderboren.

Plans were briefly discussed. As the company was parting, Verys approached Gauruloc outside of the manor gates. "I do not mean to be rude, but I must confess that I am extremely curious. How did one such as you find the righteous path of Corellon Larethian? I say without pause that you must surely be the only one of your kind to profess appreciation for the noble spirit that is The Creator and Protector of all life. And yet I can't help but notice your disdain for me. I admit that I am not offended, for I still do not know what I think of you myself, but I am a bit -- well, curious still seems the best word."

Gauruloc grunted, regarding the elf with unblinking eyes. After a moment of silence, Verys became slightly annoyed. "It occurs to me that perhaps your 'fealty' is actually mockery. If that is the case, I do not think things will end well between you and I. I've faced the gaping maw of a wyrm black, Orc-blood, so your blade does not unsettle me."

The half-orc curled his lips and graced Verys with a feral snarl. "Spare me your vapid boasts and flourishes, you doe-eared imbecile. I don't care if you faced the Goat-Headed Lord himself. What you tell me means nothing. I could tell you that I once peed forth the entire Nyr Dyv and it would have just as much merit as the prattle you spew forth. Show me that you have more mettle than a starving cat and I might stop thinking of you as a massive cockroach.

"As for Sharp-Ears, there is no mockery in my homage, but neither do I drink from the pool of mindless adoration at which you and other sheep slake your spiritual thirst. I have seen what unthinking devotion consummates, and I'll never submit myself to that damnation. I follow Sharp-Ears because he is less of a fool than the One-Eyed Lout that oppresses my mother's people. That is all you need to know."

With that, Gauruloc turned and left for Castle Teraknian. There he would watch to see if Vanthus Vanderboren returned to his family vault. Verys watched him go with narrowed eyes, still stinging from Gauruloc's upbraiding. "Very well, half-orc. It might serve you well, however, to remember that insolence does not equal enlightenment and that hasty judgement begets a careless mind. At least I let you speak before I judged you a fool."

Verys left to gather information in the Merchant's District, but his exchange with the half-orc remained in his mind. A mirthless grin spread across his face as he recalled the party's recent struggle with the Vanderborens' construct. Perhaps his next misspent arrow might not careen harmlessly off of the brute's armor. The half-orc may have solved the puzzle of the vault, but he was nonetheless an utter fool and a danger to the group. Verys resolved to watch him closely -- from about thirty feet, to be exact.

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Rubbumba left Zhandle in their apartment, where she meant to delve deeper into Thoersten Coppersmite's well-intentioned but misguided tome on adventuring. She ended up spending most of the day sleeping off the heavy morning meal and her lingering hangover, face-down in her book. It never occured to her that Coppersmite's prescription of ale before, during and after every encounter might be unwise. She simply assumed that she had yet to build up the proper tolerance.

The eight-pointed star symbol featured so prominently in the Vanderboren Vault was still emblazoned in Rubb's mind. He knew that he had seen it somewhere, and it didn't take him long to find it. There it was, carved into the front door of an otherwise unassuming building in the Merchant's District. Although Rubb could not gain entry, he spent the better part of the afternoon learning everything he could about the building and its secretive occupants. This was the Seeker Lodge, the regional base of a world-spanning group of adventurers and treasure hunters known as the Seekers. The Seeker Lodge was maintained by a soft-spoken man named Feldus Selvant. Apparently Lavinia's parents had been members. Rubb was unable to learn anything about Vanthus Vanderboren, however -- those who had heard of him assumed he was still living at the family manor.

Gauruloc and Verys did not fare much better, each spending the day in fruitless pursuit of Vanthus. That evening, however, Jouko managed to pick up the scent of Lavinia's elusive brother in Shadowshore. Not only had Vanthus been seen in the area, but he was often in the company of a known smuggler named Penkus. Penkus was a semi-notorious figure in Shadowshore, known for his drunken binges and violent temper. Over the last year, Penkus had been less visible in Shadowshore, leading many to believe he'd moved on to another venue. As recently as a few weeks ago, though, Penkus and Vanthus were spotted at a boat shop called "It Still Floats!" where they got in a huge argument with the proprietor, a pessimistic dwarf named
Panchi.

Jouko paid a visit to Panchi. After expressing feigned interest in a weather-beaten baitskiff (and sharing a bottle of spiced rum), Jouko managed to win the crusty dwarf over a bit. "Aye, I sold a boat to Penkus and 'is young friend. They were excited as a virgin boy in a brothel. They loaded a lot of lamp oil, lanterns, and rope into the boat before they left. I'm not sure where they went, but they headed west, keepin' to the harbor. The boat I sold 'em wasn't much to look at, but she's got it where it counts -- har, who am I kiddin'? That tub is prob'ly sleeping on the bottom of the bay by now!"

Jouko paid a visit to Vanderboren Manor, and the next morning Kora Whistlegap visited each of the companions. She informed them that Jouko had information regarding Vanthus' whereabouts. He asked that the others meet him that evening at the Ticklish Ogre, a waterfront tavern in the Merchant's District.

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Shefton Rosk lurked in a corner of the Ticklish Ogre, trying hard not to stare at his quarry. Even without the half-orc, the party was easy to recognize -- a laconic elf; a brazen sailor with gold teeth and black eyes; and a couple of nitwitted halflings. As the half-elf listened to their puerile banter, he told himself that this would be a cinch. He would be a Lotus Dragon in no time, with wealth and infamy soon to follow. Nonetheless, the novice rogue's hands shook and his eyes darted about anxiously.

The little halfling woman tugged the bald halfling's sleeve, giggling. "Why on Oerth would anyone tickle an ogre?" Shefton knew their names to be Rubbumba and Zhandlegarri -- ridiculous monikers befitting such frivolous creatures, he thought. The one known as Rubb looked about, his nose wrinkled in distaste. For an instant, Shefton thought the halfling had spotted him. Then he remembered that none of them would have reason to recognize him. He tried to relax. He was supposed to wait until they were all together, but he was growing restless. Where was the half-orc?

The loutish sailor, the one called Jouko, began singing, an artless effort that grated on Shefton's ears.

Ye mariners all, as ye pass by
Come in and drink if you be dry
Come spend, me lads, your money brisk
And pop your nose in a jug of this!

Rubb did not seem to enjoy the performance any more than Shefton -- he took Zhandle by the hand, and led her away between drunken sailors and over shards of broken crockery towards the bar. There, Rubb jumped up and down, trying to get the bartender's attention. She was a rather tall woman, and by her appearance might have had some ogre blood in her. An immense wart loomed ominously on her brow, staring down at its angry twin perched on one of her nostrils. Her beefy, corded forearms looked up to the task of bouncing out any troublemakers. "Hey," said Zhandle, "she kind of looks like Thoersten's drawing of an ogr...."

Shefton heard alarm in Rubb's voice as he interrupted his wife. "Sweat Pea, might I politely suggest that you do NOT finish that sentence! And whatever you do, don't ask whether she's ticklish! And for lands sakes, don't try it for yourself!" When Rubb looked back at the bartender, she was scowling down at him. He quickly ordered four ales, but when Zhandle looked away, he whispered to the bartender, asking that she make one of the ales a water instead, with a wink towards Zhandle's turned head. The bartender glowered. "You pay the same, either way," she grunted, and went about pouring the drinks.

The sailor was still singing horribly when the halflings returned to the table. Shefton wondered how the elf tolerated it. Shefton read the male halfling's lips as he asked Jouko, "So, what is so important that you dragged us all here?"

Jouko's lips were a bit harder to read -- the glint off his gold teeth was distracting. "Ye be about doing the Lady's business, aye? And what did yer trouble net ye?"

"Besides a sore back and an alcoholic wife, you mean?" The halfling's retort elicited a snicker from the elf, hearty laughter from the sailor, and an elbow in the ribs from his little woman. "Sorry, darling. Here ... have some of your drink. Careful, now. This is PURE dwarven spirits. See, it's perfectly clear. That's how you can tell it's pure."

The elf, Verys, offered to pay for the round. Rubbumba thanked him, and the sailor raised his mug of ale in salute: "To mariners all!" Zhandlegarrii took a few sips of her water and grinned. "I think I'm getting the hang of it! I'm A DRINKER NOW! This is so much easier going down, it's almost like water. Stagnant, murky, pond-scummy water, albeit, but at least it doesn't kick like a mule!"

"Thar ye go! Yo ho!" encouraged Jouko.

"I told you, Love. Nothing but the good stuff for you. Let me know when you're ready for another, and I'll fetch it for you," said the little apple-polisher Rubbumba. Shefton sneered at the party's asinine antics. Did Vanthus really believe this lot to be a threat? Too late, Shefton noticed almond-shaped eyes staring back at him. Verys had spotted him. His dirty hands began trembling slightly, and he considered leaving the Ticklish Ogre without a look back. He bit his lip. No, he would not flee. He would complete his assignment and reap his just reward. He would be a Lotus Dragon.

The elf whispered something to his companions. Rubbumba glanced in Shefton's direction and slipped into the crowd. It's now or never, the half-elf realized. He approached the group, and blurted, "I'm Shefton. I hear you're looking for Vanthus Vanderboren. I have some information if you're still interested, but it'll cost you five gold coins." I'm talking to fast, and I just told them my real name, he realized. But then, they won't live long enough to tell, he reminded himself.

Verys nodded at him. "And what business of yours is our business, half-blood?"

"Word gets around on the streets. You've all been asking a lot of questions about Vanthus. I can help."

The elf nodded again and placed five shiny gold coins on the table. Shefton reached for them hesitantly, hand trembling. He was supposed to appear nervous, it was part of the act. But did he look too nervous? Were they on to him? He swallowed hard and pocketed the coin. "Vanthus has been laying low for the last few days, living in an abandoned complex of smuggler's tunnels below Parrot Island. The place is hard to find. If you really want Vanthus, I can lead you to a hidden trap door he's been using to enter and exit the complex below the isle. But it'll cost you five more gold coins." Shefton was so shaken that he didn't notice Rubbumba reach into his pocket and fish out the elf's gold.

The sailor piped up. "How ye know this, lad?"

"Vanthus and a man named Penkus approached me a few weeks ago to help set up a smuggling operation in the old tunnels below Parrot Island. Once he was set up, he cut me out of the deal. He ordered me killed -- dead men tell no tales -- but I managed to escape. Vanthus has been looking for me since. Needless to say, I can't very well go to the watch. But I'd sleep a lot easier if someone else gave him what's coming to him."

Jouko stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The lad speaks true. I heard o' this Penkus. He and Vanthus bought a boat from a pissy dwarf in Shadowshore and headed west -- right for Parrot Island!" Jouko pointed dramatically out the window to the north, where a small island was visible in the harbor between the Merchant's District and Shadowshore. "Thar be where we find Vanthus." Shefton let out his breath for the first time since approaching the group. He hadn't expected one of their own to vouch for him.

The elf's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Regardless, we don't mean to kill Vanthus Vanderboren. We just want to ask him some questions."

"That's fine," Shefton answered, improvising. "I'd feel a whole lot safer if he was dead. But I'd be just as happy if he was off the streets, one way or another. I tell you, he's out to get me."

Just then, the male halfling returned to the group and plunked five gold pieces on the table in front of Shefton -- the same coins he had just plucked from the unknowing half-elf's pocket. "There's your gold, sir. Now, where's this hideout?"

"Good, it's settled then," Shefton sighed. "As I said, I can take you to the secret trapdoor Vanthus uses to get into the old tunnels under the island. After that, you're on your own."

Jouko flashed a golden grin. "Yar. Vanthus played you for a fool, and now ye betray him. There is truly no honor among thieves, 'twould seem."

The female halfling perked up. "Hmm. That gives me an idea!" Her little manling groaned and buried his bald head in his palms. Zhandle continued, undeterred. "I think we could all do with a bit more trust and honesty!" Without further warning, she began casting a spell.

"That's a lovely idea, darling. I'm sure we'll all -- uh-oh." Rubb's eyes glazed over. Jouko's eyes, already glazed, swam drunkenly in his head. Verys and Shefton exchanged bewildered glances. Rubb spoke in a monotone voice. "You know, dear, that dress makes you look kind of fat."

Zhandlegarrii slapped Rubb and gave Shefton a frustrated look. "What, nothing? Thoersten didn't write anything about you elves being immune to hypnotism. But then, he didn't write very much about magic at all -- I don't think he likes it."

Rubbumba droned on earnestly. "No -- wait. It's not the dress that makes you look fat. It's the fact that you're fat that makes you look fat."

Shefton almost chuckled, but his skin grew clammy when he heard a deep, menacing voice behind him -- very close behind him. "What arcane foolishness is this? And what's this talk about an island?" Shefton dared turn his head just enough to spot the big half-orc, the one called Gauruloc, from the corner of his eye.

"Ahoy, mate," droned the sailor. In a sudden bout of honesty, he continued. "Let's be going. The sooner we be done, the sooner I can bed a bonny lass. Or a fat, ugly wench. I don't care much either way, truth be told."

"What ensorcelment have you foisted upon your companions, snackling?" Gauruloc demanded.

Zhandle groaned. "That's the last time I ask for honesty around this bunch."

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Once Zhandlegarri's squandered hypnotism spell wore off, Jouko led the party in "liberating" a smallish dinghy (despite Zhandle's boat-weary protestations). Before long, Parrot Island loomed in the harbor before them. The island was little more than a rocky outcropping surrounded by 30-foot-high cliffs save from the eastern end, where a narrow beach afforded an easier approach. The isle was thickly vegetated, the trees above serving as the roost for hundreds of noisy, brightly colored parrots.

Gauruloc and Jouko spotted a partially overgrown trail leading up from the beach and looked to Shefton. The half-elf nodded and led the way up the path to a clearing in the vegetation. At the southern end of the clearing, Shefton pointed out a stone trap door. He wrestled with the wicked grin that wanted to spread across his face -- once the group went in there, he knew they would never come back out. Admission into the Lotus Dragons was his at last!

"This is the door I told you about. Vanthus is down there, somewhere."

"It just be Vanthus and Penkus, eh?" asked Jouko.

"Um, yes, they had a few men working with them, but I suspect Vanthus betrayed them just like he did me."

The male halfling checked the door for traps before opening it, revealing a five-foot-wide shaft leading into the darkness below. A rope hung from a hook in the wall, providing an easy method of descent. Soon the entire party had disappeared through the trap door. This time Shefton allowed his grin to emerge. It had been even easier than he hoped. What if they had insisted he go down into the tunnels with them? Down where the hungry dead wait? An involuntary shudder convulsed his spine, and an icy dagger of fear stabbed at his heart.

Shefton coughed. Warm, dark fluid erupted from his throat, filling his mouth and coating his lips. He wiped at his mouth with a grimy hand, and pulled it away to see blood. A horrible pain coursed through his body, his pulse quickened, and breathing became difficult. The dagger in his heart was not fear at all, but a corporeal weapon -- a knife in the back! He heard a soft chuckle grow louder as a black shroud fell over his vision. With a raspy cry, Shefton toppled headfirst into the shaft, falling past the group he had just betrayed. He landed at the bottom with a grotesque thud. There is no honor... was his final, incomplete thought.

Vanthus Vanderboren stood at the top of the shaft. His mocking laughter rang down on the party, and he called out in a menacing voice. "Serves you right for messing around with my sister, you thugs. Say hello to Penkus' ghost for me while you're down there!" And say hello to his rotting friends, he thought with a sinister smile. He slammed the trap door into place, and rolled some heavy boulders over the top of it. It occurred to him that he did not have to kill the half-elf. But then, dead men tell no tales.

 

[Jodo Kast]

Excellent story hour

Thanks Sandain. What our game lacks in progress and action, we definitely make up for in roleplay and character. I wish we could play more frequently, but we are spread out over three different states and can only get together for a few hours every other Monday night on Fantasy Grounds. We're still working on "There Is No Honor" (the first installment in the Savage Tide Adventure Path). It took a whole session to get through a battle with 5 monstrous crabs. I'm hoping as the game progresses, and once the characters are firmly established, things will move a little more briskly. It's hard to strike the perfect balance between roleplay and rollplay. At any rate, I'm encouraged that some folks out there are enjoying my write-up.

 

[Jodo Kast]

Peril! Under Parrot Island ... Part I

The body of Shefton Rosk plummeted down the shaft, landing on the stone floor with a wet, gruesome thwack. Mocking laughter rang down on the party, and a menacing voice called out from above. "Serves you right for messing around with my sister, you thugs. Say hello to Penkus' ghost for me while you're down there!" The trap door slammed shut, and the grating sound of heavy objects being placed on the door echoed through the chamber.

"Well," sighed Rubbumba, "we're not getting back out that way. May as well have a look about." The halfling shouldered his little pack and began exploring down the only passageway out of the tight chamber. The others fell in line behind Rubb. Verys exposed the charm on his necklace, which was imbued with an everburning torch enchantment, and took up the rear guard.

The dank, brick-lined tunnel ended in a door of soggy wood, which appeared to be waterlogged and swollen shut. "This appears to be your kind of lock," Rubb deferred to Gauruloc. The half-orc put his shoulder to the door and forced it open onto a hall running east and west, ending in double doors at both ends. Both sets of double-doors hung ajar. As the doors to the west were nearest, Rubb proceeded in that direction. Looking into the room, he observed four great wooden pillars rising up to support the ceiling, which sagged dangerously in places and was thick with hanging strands of fungus. Several doors lined the walls -- one to the west (from which came a muffled sloshing sound), two to the north (the western of which was badly damaged and hung askew on its one remaining hinge), and two to the east. To the south, the ceiling had collapsed, leaving the southern part of the room choked in debris. A rippling pool of water reached halfway into the room from this wall of stone and rubble. It seemed that a wooden pier once extended into this pool, but all that remained were several rotting wooden pilings protruding from the water. A man's body floated face down among them.

Zhandlegarrii pinched her nose. "Phew! What's that smell?"

"More of Vanthus' handiwork, no doubt," growled Jouko. "Probably another one of his 'friends.'"

Verys muttered something about having a bad feeling as Rubb moved cautiously toward the floating body. Just as he was about to reach the corpse, five monstrous dark brown kelp crabs surged out of the pool! Each crab measured nearly two feet in diameter, with pincers the size of daggers. The first of the crabs caught Rubb by surprise, hitting him with both pincers. Another crab struck a glancing blow on Jouko's calf, and another struck a vicious pincer attack on hapless Zhandlegarrii.

Gauruloc roared and sent his longsword flashing, landing a critical blow that cleaved one of the crabs in twain. Verys loosed an arrow that hit at the base of another crab's eyestalks, badly wounding the creature. Rubb hurled himself at the crab that struck his darling Zhandle, bringing his short sword down hard upon the offending crustacean and hacking off several legs. Gauruloc turned his mighty blade on another of the crabs, putting a deep crack in its shell.

Zhandlegarrii stepped back from the fray and cast a ray of frost, further weakening the crab that had attacked her. "Ahhhh Rubb, get these icky things away from me!" Jouko sent his chain whirling at the nearest crab, its head solidly crunching the crab's shell. Spotting another crab skittering towards Zhandle's flank, Jouko turned and lashed out again with his chain, crushing the monster.

Gauruloc again displayed his crab crunching prowess, slaying another of the beasts. By now the half-orc was covered in crab gore, and Jouko noted that he smelled a bit like the pirate's favorite waterfront dive in Port Joli. He wished for some melted butter and a pint of ale as he landed another mighty blow with his chain, taking off all of the legs on one side of a crab. The crab attempted to right itself, and Jouko struck again, this time lethally cracking the monster's shell.

Having made short work of the crabs, the crew set about searching the pool. The crab-eaten, soggy body had nothing of value on it. Gauruloc thrust his head under water to see if he could make anything out using his darkvision. Something gleaming caught the half-orc's eye, and he plucked a handsomely crafted silvered dagger from the bottom of the pool.

Rubb eyed the half-orc's prize jealously, wishing he had searched a bit more thoroughly. He shrugged it off and moved to the door to the west. The sooner they found a way out of these forsaken caves, the better. The sloshing sound from beyond the door came from the churning waters of a sea cave. Fueled by powerful submerged currents, the water lapped and splashed against the walls of the twisting natural cavern that led to the west. A sandy slope descended from the door down to the edge of the subterranean tide. Dozens of purple and red sea urchins glistened in shallow divots along the ground and lower walls here, their spines glittering with water.

Jouko grinned. "Here be our way out! We just swim a bit, and we're back at the Ticklish Ogre in time for sup. I fancy a big platter o' crab...." Rubb, however, frowned at the underwater passage. The halfling moved down the slope and peered into the water, trying to gauge the depth and distance to safety. The shallow water appeared to be only a foot deep, but it got deeper rapidly.

Zhandlegarrii groaned. "I don't swim so well...."

Rubbumba sighed. "The pirate's right, dear. I think this may be our way out. But ... I don't like it either. Perhaps we should search the rest of this place first? Maybe find something to help us? Or, at least make this little mishap worthwhile. If I'm going to die in an underwater cave, I'd prefer it be with gold in my pouches."

Gauruloc snickered. "Yes, you'll sink faster that way, snackling."

************************************************************************************

Visions of lost smugglers' gold in their heads, the party set about exploring the caves beneath Parrot Island. Their initial efforts revealed some old storage rooms, their treasure consisting of little more than a barrel of drinkable (but nasty tasting) water, a few torches, flint and steel and some old, worn-out rope. "Nothing out of the ordinary," Rubb noted with a sigh.

The party soon came to a room that may have been used as a meeting hall by the smugglers of old, but now looked as if it had been abandoned for some time. Without warning, three hungry, soggy, shambling corpses burst into the room! The fanged maws of these horrific zombie pirates opened wider than they should, revealing row upon row of jagged teeth.

Rubbumba cried out, alarmed. "Well THOSE are certainly out of the ordinary!"

"The rotting dead," Gauruloc grunted. "An affront to all that is natural." The half-orc demanded that Sharp-Ears grant him divine vigor to overcome these new foes. Jouko sent his spiked chain flying towards one of the zombies, but missed his mark. The first of the zombies attempted to grapple Gauruloc in its rotting limbs, but the cleric easily held the monster's flailing arms at bay.

Zhandlegarrii shrieked in horror, then shrieked some more. Somehow, between shrieks the halfling wizard managed to cast a spell, summoning a celestial giant fire beetle to do battle with the zombies -- after all, she wasn't about to touch them herself. The beetle attempted to bite the nearest zombie, but narrowly missed.

"Zhandle, my dear, stay behind this post and you should be safe. I will protect you!" Rubbumba moved quickly across the room, drawing his short sword as he went.

The next zombie decided that the glowing beetle looked appetizing. It attempted to bite the bug, but was unable to get the insect to hold still long enough. The last ravenous zombie pirate lunged at Jouko, who barely moved his neck out of the way in time to avoid the attack. Verys swiftly loosed two arrows at a zombie, but in his caution not to hit friendly combatants, he missed his target.

Gauruloc howled in fury, bringing his sword down upon a walking corpse's head. He cleaved a cross-section of skull and dripping face away, but the mindless monster stood nonetheless. Undaunted, the zombie bit deeply into the half-orc's shoulder.

Zhandlegarrii breathed heavily into her bag, then moved to get a line of sight and cast acid splash. Zhandle hurled an orb of acid which exploded upon hitting the zombie. Her summoned fire beetle viciously bit a zombie, ripping some rotting flesh from the thing's thigh an instant before disappearing back to whence it had been summoned.

Inspired by Zhandle's acid attack, Verys snatched a flask of alchemist's fire from his pack and hurled it at the zombies. The elf scored a direct hit on one of the zombies, and the splash when the flask exploded injured another.

Rubbumba ducked and tumbled past the undead attackers, moving himself into position to strike. The halfling slashed his short sword across the gut of the nearest monster. A bit of its decaying intestine peeked out of the wound, but the ravenous zombie pirate seemed undeterred. Its jaw opened impossibly wide, and it chomped its rows of lethal teeth down on the halfling. Rubb fell to the floor, disabled by the shock, pain and horror of the attack. Seizing the opportunity for an easy meal, the next zombie kneeled and bit at Rubb's midsection, it's rows of rotting teeth effortlessly rending flesh. The halfling's vision went black as he lost consciousness. Zhandle screamed out in horror, weeping at the sight.

Jouko lashed out at one of Rubb's attackers, sending it prone with a jerk of his chain and then pounding it immediately with the opposite end of the spiked chain. Gauruloc waded into the mass of dead flesh, trying to draw attention from the dying halfling. With grim resolve and a mighty swing of his blade, the cleric lopped off the head of the zombie he had previously scalped. At last the monster fell motionless. The half-orc called back over his shoulder to Zhandle. "Stand fast, morsel. Your companion is not due to die today. So bids Sharp-Ears."

Emboldened, Zhandlegarrii pulled out her club and frantically started beating at the prone zombie Jouko had tripped. "Leave my Rubb alone!" Her first attempt missed the zombie altogether (and quite nearly brained Rubb). Her second blow never even landed, as she slipped in ichor and landed flat on her backside.

The zombie Verys had doused with alchemist's fire smoldered and writhed, but still shambled menacingly enough. Verys sank an arrow into it, hoping to finish the job. However, his arrow pierced through its soggy flesh with no resistance, and the mindless monster didn't even seem to notice.

"Your arrows are as effective as your wit, elf. Draw steel!" cried Gauruloc. Drawn by his cry, the standing zombie chomped at Gauruloc. The half-orc slammed his forearm up into the creature's lower jaw, snapping its mouth shut before it could bite him.

The prone zombie attempted to rise, drawing attacks from Gauruloc and Jouko. They hit it simultaneously, ravaging it with sword and chain. The monster was no more. Jouko jerked his chain from the zombie's skull and lashed out at the remaining zombie's legs, but the attack was errant.

Fearing that the halfling would die any moment without intervention, Gauruloc rushed to Rubb's aid, provoking a vicious attack from the last zombie. It latched onto Gauruloc's forearm as he moved past, rending flesh from bone. Gauruloc howled in pain, but grit his teeth and granted the vigor of Sharp-Ears to the fallen snackling. Though the halfling lay unmoving, Gauruloc sensed that his condition had stabilized.

Zhandlegarrii, seeing what Gauruloc had done, hugged the half-orc's shin mightily, then moved protectively over Rubb should the last zombie target him. Verys, who had dropped his bow in favor of his longsword, slashed at the zombie to no avail. The zombie swatted away Verys' sword arm, leaving his torso exposed. Its monstrous jaw closed on the elf's neck, inflicting a serious wound. Jouko struck with his chain once again, this time tripping the zombie and deftly sending the other end of his chain to finish it off with a crushing blow.

At last, the hungry dead lay still and silent.

 

[Jodo Kast]

Peril! Under Parrot Island ... Part II

Dreadful moans and the sounds of gnashing teeth echoed throughout the tunnels, making it difficult to estimate how many zombies remained, or even from what direction they were approaching. Zhandle tugged on Rubb's sleeve. "Do you think Verys will be all right alone?" The elf's wound had been worse than any of them realized. Despite Gauruloc's best efforts, Verys' neck would not fully heal. He was feverish, and turning a very unhealthy shade of gray. Worse, his will seemed to have been sapped completely. The elf showed no interest in going any further. It was as if the fight with the zombies had broken his will.

"We shut him in pretty tight. He's probably safer than we are, roaming around these tunnels with those things," sighed Rubb as a particularly gruesome moan rose above the others. Rubb patted Zhandle's hand reassuringly, then scurried up to join Jouko. Whispering so that Zhandle would not hear, he shared his concern with the pirate. "I'm not sure Tightbritches is going to make it. Should we finish our exploration, or just work on finding a way out of here?"

"I ain't sees no booty. That swim ain't going to hurt yer lass none. I think it's high time we make fer the surface."

Meanwhile, Gauruloc called out to his god, Corellon, while holding three stones in his open palm. "Fill these stones with the power to fell the profane dead, Sharp Ears!" The half-orc kept one of the magic stones, and gave the others to Rubb and Zhandle. "Take these, snacklings. If we encounter any more dead ones, fling them with all your might."

Rubb took the stone Gauruloc offered and turned back to Jouko. He nodded grimly, then moved down the hallway as swiftly and silently as he could. "Let us make our escape. The sooner we get this over with, the better for Verys." And for Zhandlegarrii, the halfling thought.

Rubb came to the entrance of the chamber where the party had encountered monstrous crabs. A horrible moaning emanated from within. Jouko pushed past the halfling, rushing inside to face this new foe. Zhandle quickly cast mage armor on Rubb, hoping to protect him from the ravenous teeth and ripping nails of the pirate zombies.

Upon entering the chamber, Jouko immediately spotted two zombies. He lashed out with his chain, flaying rotting flesh away from a creature's torso. Although the chain injured the zombie, it was not nearly as effective as it would have been against a living foe.

Gauruloc flung his magic stone at a zombie, but his aim was errant and the stone clattered harmlessly into the pool. Rubbumba, emboldened by his wife's protective spell, rushed into the room belting out a fierce battle-cry and hurled Gauruloc's glowing pebble at the nearest zombie. The halfling's aim was no better than the half-orc's, and the stone bounced harmlessly off a pillar behind the mindless monster.

The first of the ravenous pirate zombies attempted to bite Jouko. The pirate narrowly evaded the monster's gaping jaws, filled with row after row of ravenous teeth. The next zombie charged at Gauruloc and attempted to bite him, but the half-orc managed to get his shield up in time to slam the zombie's jaw shut.

In muffled hysterics and dramatic whines, Zhandle wiped the fog away from her glasses (caused by her near-hyperventilation) and managed to cast summon monster. The halfling wizard called for a celestial dog, which blinked into existence near one of the zombies. The dog attempted to bite its master's foe, but was unable to get in under the zombie's flailing limbs.

Jouko whipped his spiked chain at a zombie's legs, tripping the monster. He immediately sent his chain flying again, making solid contact. But he could see that his piercing chain just sloughed through the zombie's soaked, rotting flesh. Jouko's chain just doesn't seem to be inflicting the amount of damage it should.

Rubbumba ducked and tumbled around one of the zombies, using a pillar for leverage and momentum as he swung around with his sword for a rapid attack. The thief's little sword pierced the monster's soggy, rotting flesh, with seemingly no effect.

The prone zombie attempted to stagger to its feet, drawing successful attacks from Jouko, Gauruloc, and Rubb. Gauruloc's weapon seemed to be the most effective, but the zombie refused to fall. "Slashing weapons," the cleric grunted to his companions. "Zombies are vulnerable only to slashing weapons...." Another zombie bit into Gauruloc's shoulder as he imparted their deadly secret.

Frustrated, Jouko yelled out to the half-orc. "I'll keep 'em on the deck, ye cut em up." Heeding Gauruloc's advice, Zhan threw her little hand-axe at a zombie. Miraculously (considering she hurled the weapon with one hand over her eyes, peering through her fingers), the blade buried itself in a zombie's forehead. The monster fell to its knees, then slumped face-first onto the stones, driving the axe deeper and splitting its skull. The zombie twitched for a moment, then ceased moving entirely. Zhandlegarrii cried out triumphantly. "I did it? I did it!!!"

Jouko whirled around and lashed at a zombie's legs with his chain, sending the clumsy monster prone. Gauruloc wasted no time, bringing his sword down and hacking one of the zombie's arms off at the elbow. Rubbumba, still stunned by Zhan's success, launched himself at the remaining zombie. He ran up behind Guaruloc, vaulted off of his back, and came down upon his foe with a hard, slashing blow. Howling, the zombie attempted to rise and grapple the halfling. Gauruloc's mighty blade flashed again, beheading the monster and ending the threat.

Zhandlegarrii wrinkled her nose and pointed to her little axe. "Can someone fetch that for me? It's kinda stuck ... and really gross." Rubbumba yanked the axe out of the zombie's skull and handed it, dripping oozing blade side out, to his sweet wife.

Jouko pulled his flask from his vest pocket, took a long swig and offered it to Zhandle. "All right, mates -- who's up fer a swim?"

Gauruloc frowned. "I'm afraid that my armor and my unfamiliarity with water would not be a good combination."

Zhandlegarrii chimed in. "I still only dog paddle."

"Fine bunch o' land lubbers ye be," growled the pirate.

Rubbumba sighed. "Unless you want to go see what's behind door number..." --the halfling counted on his stubby fingers -- "eleven, I don't see as you have a choice, orc."

"That would be my preference, yes, snackling. I'd rather face the dead and have a fighting chance than entrust our fate to the murky depths."

Rubbumba set his jaw and spoke forcefully through gritted teeth. "Our elven friend's life hangs in the balance. Unpleasant as it may be for tender halfling women and orcs, I think a swim at this point would be our most prudent option."

Gauruloc finally shrugged his shoulders and fell in behind the halfling. The group grimly made their way to the churning waters of the sea cave. Fueled by what must be powerful submerged currents, the water lapped and splashed against the walls of the twisting natural cavern. A sandy slope descended from the door down to the edge of the subterranean tide. Dozens of purple and red sea urchins glistened in shallow divots along the ground and lower walls here, their spines glittering with water.

Gauruloc began removing his armor. "I will not be pulled down to drown like some clubbed fish."

Jouko waded out into the water first, with Rubb close behind. Gauruloc and Zhandle followed reluctantly. Jouko looked back and splashed Zhandle playfully. "See lass, it's not that baaaaa...." The surging current pulled Jouko prone. Zhandle began to laugh, until she too was knocked flat. Pirate and wizard alike landed painfully in a patch of sea urchins. Jouko became nauseous almost immediately, retching a green cloud into the churning water. Aside from the painful prick of the urchin barbs in her backside, Zhandle felt no other negative effect.

"Mind the urchins, lads, they packs a punch," Jouko mumbled weakly. "Pardon me while I feed the fish again...." In addition to his nausea, the pirate felt as if his strength had been sapped. Using the flat of his dagger, Rubbumba carefully flicked a couple urchins into his backpack for later study.

Gauruloc grunted. "I'm afraid I don't know how to help you recover from -- pointed sea fungus, human."

"Bah! I be fine. Let's swim." Jouko managed to keep his footing, reaching deeper water where he could swim with no risk of slipping. Gauruloc and Rubb cautiously paddled out after the pirate.

Zhandle bravely tried to follow, but once again was knocked flat by surging waters. She screamed as poisonous urchin barbs pierced her backside. "Argh! My rump feels like a pin cushion!" Suddenly she felt nausea swell up inside her. Her little cheeks ballooned outwards and then sent a grotesque fountain of spray high into the air. Gauruloc groaned and swam back to assist the halflings.

Jouko muttered something about useless lubbers and swam ahead. Even with his glowstick, the water-filled smuggler caves were dark and eerie. After a while he called back. "Wee ones! Where ye be?"

"We're barely wet yet," yelled a frustrated Rubbumba. "My Sweat Pea fell on another urchin and is summarily filling the cavern with cheesy vomit."

Zhandlegarrii sobbed softly. "Rubb, are we going to die down here?"

"Yes, dear. I think that's very likely, at this rate."

Jouko shook his head. "Stay where ye be, ye'll do less harm that way. I'll find the way out fer all of us. We can discuss payment later." Jouko swam on, eventually coming to a door. Jouko pulled the door open slowly, not knowing whether to expect monstrous crabs, pirate zombies, or perhaps a giant urchin. The smell in the chamber was horrific, a cloying stink of rotten meat rising from a bloated, seeping body slumped in the middle of the floor. The corpse's dark, almost black flesh bulged against its armor, ready to burst at the slightest touch. An intricate tattoo of a dragon clutching a flower was barely visible on his shoulder against the diseased flesh, and clutched in one hand was a crumpled scroll.

Jouko scratched his scraggly chin, and cautiously kicked one of the corpse's feet. Nothing happened. He stooped and gingerly took the scroll from the corpse's dead hand. It was a hastily scribbled note identify the body as the corpse of the smuggler Penkus and condemning Vanthus Vanderboren. Jouko searched the body, mindful not to touch the flesh. He reckoned that Penkus' suit of masterwork leather armor was still serviceable, though it would need to be cleaned mightily before it could be used. He also found a gold ring upon one bloated finger, and a masterwork dagger hidden in one of Penkus' boots. Jouko pocketed the dagger and ring and carefully stripped off the armor, stowing it in his duffle with wrinkled nose. "That stench," he mused ruefully, "isn't gonna come out."

************************************************************************************

Meanwhile, Rubb called out to Jouko, his little voice eerily echoing off stone and water. There was no reply. "That's it. The hatch is our only way to get out of here, whether the scoundrel makes it or not. It can't hurt to go give it a try."

Gauruloc nodded slowly. "You'd have a hard time opening that door, snackling, even if we hadn't heard the bastard Vanthus sealing it from above. But I may as well try my shoulder at it. We can check on the elf while we're at it. Not that he's been of any use."

"Rubb, all of this swimming -- or not swimming, I suppose -- is making me hungry. Do we have any food left? Please tell me we're not going to starve down here."

"Darling, there's a whole cavern of crushed crab behind us. I imagine they can be prepared to be rather tasty. We'll stop there and have a bite before we rejoin Verys and have a try at that hatch."

************************************************************************************

Having finished the grim task of looting Penkus, and finding no way out of the caverns, Jouko waded back into the drink for the swim back to his companions. On the swim back, however, he felt a current tugging at him. He dove under to investigate, swimming to the bottom and following the current. There he found the entrance to a tunnel, roughly five feet in radius. Jouko surfaced, drew a deep breath and dove back down and into the tunnel.

Jouko followed the twisting, claustrophobic tunnel for a long way. Just when he thought his lungs would burst, the tunnel emerged from the seabed into open ocean water. A strong kick propelled him up to the surface and he drank in night air! He was in the harbor between Parrot Island and the gate that separated Shadowshore from Cudgel District.

Jouko swam to shore on Parrot Island, dragging himself up onto a sandy beach. He followed the beach until he found the trail leading back to the clearing with the hatch -- the site of Vanthus Vanderboren's ambush. There was no sign of Vanthus in the clearing, other than some boulders rolled over the top of the hatch. Jouko dropped his pack and went about clearing the hatch. The boulders rolled away easily enough, but it probably would have been impossible to budge the hatch from below.

Jouko opened the hatch and stuck his head down into the shaft. "Yar, ye land lubbers!" He was greeted by an odd sound below, muffled, and vaguely -- squinchy? That was followed by a crunch and a dreadful moan. "That be you, elf? Ye don't sound well." Jouko dropped his sunrod down the shaft. In the glow, he saw a face emerge below -- a rotting, horrifying face, its fanged maw open to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth. It was a ravenous zombie pirate, and it looked to be feasting upon the elf -- or what was left of him, anyway.

Jouko lifted one of the boulders back to the lip of the shaft and balanced it as he looked down at the horrific scene again. He waited until he could see the zombie's entire body below, and then released the boulder. The rock crashed down loudly. Jouko could see the zombie's limbs protruding from beneath the boulder, and heard a muffled "Yaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

************************************************************************************

Gauruloc paused between bites of crab leg. "Did you snacklings hear something just then? A crash?"

Zhandle wiped crab juices from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Nnnyoph, I dninnit ear nuffin."

Rubbumba shook a crab leg at Gauruloc. "You know, if that pirate's not dead, I'm going to give him what for when he returns. Us, having to do all this hard work, living off the land, while he's off gallivanting about and having fun. I imagine he swam back to town and is probably out carousing as we speak."

Gauruloc shook his head in disgust. "Enough, snacklings! You are plump enough already. These crabs are as big as you, don't try to eat them all! Let's go check on the elf. I'll try the blasted trap door, though no good it will do."

Zhandlegarrii pouted. "This may be our last meal -- EVER!"

Rubbumba grinned. "Yeah, relax. We might as well make the best out of a bad situation. The elf's no doubt sleeping off his injury, and the pirate's probably off drinking and wenching."

************************************************************************************

Jouko lifted a soggy boot high and stomped the zombie's head until it ceased moving. Nearby, the elf's partially eaten intestines were strewn on the floor. Verys' face had been chewed away until it was barely recognizable. Jouko sighed and went about searching through the elf's belongings.

************************************************************************************

Gauruloc had finally had enough. "By Sharp-Ears," he roared, "you snacklings are the most useless creations I've ever encountered. Eat and whine, is that all your puny gods meant you to do?"

Rubbumba threw up his hands. "Oh fine. Let's go check on the elf. I'll bring him a crab leg. No more than one, though. I'd hate to see him split his tight britches."

The half-orc and halflings left their crustacean feast behind and tromped back towards the entrance. To their dismay, they found that the door they had left secured was battered down.

"Oh dear," said Zhandlegarrii. "You don't think...."

Inside the door lay an unmoving zombie, a veritable pin cushion. There must have been twenty arrows sticking out of it. Rubbumba kicked at the zombie admiringly. "Skinnypants must have been really hungry to do this!"

Gauruloc grimly surveyed the scene. From what he could tell, it looked as if two zombies had burst in. Verys managed to fell one with his swift bow. The other, however, likely shielded behind its companion, managed to reach the elf. There was a heavy splash of blood on the wall, too fresh and vital to have come from a zombie. The elf retreated. Here now was an empty flask -- the elf must have quaffed one of his healing potions. There were signs of a valiant battle, steel against death itself. The half-orc turned the corner and saw Jouko perched over Very's grisly remains, and the second zombie crushed beneath a boulder.

Rubb and Zhandle rounded the corner right behind Gauruloc. Zhandle immediately began to gag, her crabby meal trying to return the way it had come.

"Ahoy, mateys," called Jouko. Rubbumba rushed forward and reverently laid Verys' crab leg upon his chest. Or at least, in the vicinity of the elf's ravaged chest cavity. Gauruloc delivered a brief consecration over the elf's remains. He would have taken him above ground to bury him properly in the fashion of Corellon, but there were so many bits and pieces, and it was difficult to distinguish where elf ended and zombie began in the bloody mess.

Minutes later, the remaining companions emerged at last from beneath Parrot Island, their packs stuffed with Verys' things, and breathed deeply of the fresh night air. Zhandlegarrii threw herself down in the grass and hugged the land. The relief she felt was beyond description -- especially as she heard a plaintive, hungry groan emanate from somewhere below. Her need to get far away from here overrode Zhandle's instinctive mistrust of boats, and the little crew had soon boarded the dinghy Jouko "borrowed" for their expedition to Parrot Island.

Out in the open water, Jouko stopped rowing for a moment and plucked a scroll from his breast pocket. Rubbumba stared at the approaching shoreline, thinking dark thoughts. Jouko tossed the scroll to the halfling. "What ye make o' this, wee lad?"

Rubbumba read the scroll silently, passing it to Zhandle when he finished. Remembering Thoersten Coppersmiter's description of half-orcs as being confused and "real stupid," Zhandle assumed that Gauruloc was illiterate. As a show of friendship, she read the scroll aloud for his benefit. She even put on her best pirate-smuggler voice.

"These bones once be Penkus, so if ye read this, I be dead, laid low by the sick put on me by that foul dead thing. Yet even as me flesh wracks, know t'was not the dead that brought my doom, but one I 'til recently called friend! Vanthus Vanderboren! Your name fills me with bile! Spineless, treacherous cur! You left us here to die! You left ME here to die, after all what I done t'get ye into th' Lotus! Yer designs on the Lady of the Lotus be clear now, and with meself out th' way ... ye doubtless move even now into power, slithering amid my vacancy like a hermit crab in a shell, or a cadaver worm to still warm flesh. CURSE UPON YE! To th' one what reads this. If ye have any honor or vengeance in yer soul, know that Vanthus must die. He dwells in the lap o' th' Lotus, below th' Taxidermist's Hall. Seek him there, but 'fore he dies he must ken it were Penkus what undid him and guides yer killing blow. And if, by some cruel spite of fate, it be ye what read this, Vanthus, know with certainty I wait for ye in Hell, where I intend t' rival the pit itself in yer torment!"

Zhandle chuckled nervously. "Anyone else detect some anger management issues?"

Rubbumba spoke grimly. "I think, after a quick stopover to clean up, get some proper rest, and recover, we need to head to the Taxidermist's Hall and pay Vanthus what's coming to him. After what we just went through, I can't wait to gut him like the pig he is." Rubb sat silently for the rest of the short trip, momentarily shocked by the harshness of his own words. He recalled a forbidden tome that he had hidden away, and wondered if he could use its secrets to inflict terrible retribution upon their foe.

 

[Jodo Kast]

I'm the man before the mast
And on this simple subject
Will you please enlighten me
Common sailors we are called
Come tell me the reason why
And on this simple subject I'll reply
Don't you call us common sailors anymore
Good things to you we bring
Don't you call us common men
We're as good as anybody that's on shore....

"Oh goodie," sighed Zhandle. "Another sea shanty. Doesn't he know any songs about safe, dry, solid land?"

Rubb surveyed Jouko and frowned. The singing sailor's feet were up on the table, one of his big toes waggled through a hole in his boot, and he gulped fine wine from an ornate goblet as if he were swilling cheap ale from a mug. "I reckon not, dearheart. I reckon not."

Rubb, Zhandle, and Jouko had attended to their various errands, and waited anxiously at Vanderboren Manor for the return of Gauruloc so they could get down to the business of exacting revenge on Vanthus Vanderboren. However, it was not Gauruloc who followed a harried looking Kora Whistlegap into the dining hall that evening.

This new guest was a short and slender man, with long brown hair and beard to match. He was unkept, with dirt and other oddities stuck in his beard and beneath his fingernails. He moved rather lightly, although somewhat haphazardly. There was a roguish sparkle in his eye and a slight smile that spoke of mischief. His hands were in constant motion as he spoke. "Well, where be the Lady of the manor?"

"Sir, as I told you, the Lady has just returned from conducting important business. You can wait here with her retainers while I inquire as to her availability." Kora cast a furtive glance in Rubb's direction as she bustled away, her meaning as clear as if she had spoken the words aloud: "Please keep an eye on this one while I fetch the Lady."

"Hurry back, little one. I'm hear to speak of your Lady, but perhaps I've some business to discuss with you as well. I happen to know a brothel that would kill for a halfling lady of your buxom stature."

Rubbumba choked on his ale. Gasping and sputtering, he moaned, "Great! Just what we need around here. Another foul mouthed pirate."

Ta'Tarin Jin turned at the sound of Rubb's voice, but his lecherous gaze settled on Zhandle. "Ah, another wee one. An embarrassment of riches I've stumbled upon. May the gods strike me, ain't you a sweet thing! Forget that wrinkled old bag, a young prize like yourself will fetch more coin!"

Rubbumba placed his hand on his dagger and growled at the newcomer. Zhandle, attempting to simultaneously stand and straighten her robes, somehow managed to snag the hem of her garments under her chair. Fortunately, the ripping sound was masked by Rubb's loud challenge.
"That's my wife you are addressing, scoundrel!"

"Easy there, little one. I only be admiring what Olidammara saw fit to show me this fine day. I imagine the brothel would take you both, sort of a ... specialty act. What do you say?"

Jouko laughed happily as the scene unfolded. Rubb looked as if his head might explode, and Zhandle fussed over the tear in her robes, only managing to make the problem worse. She was contemplating making a clean rip that would leave her with a sort of mini-robe when Lavinia Vanderboren entered the room.

"Rubbumba, Zhandlegarrii, Jouko," she began. "It is good to have you back in my hall. Perhaps once Gauruloc and Verys arrive...."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Lady, but that's kind of why I'm here," interrupted the newcomer. "My Lady, may I present ... myself. Ta'Tarin Jin, master of all that there is to master, at your service."

"Great," Rubb mumbled beneath his breath. "Nothing screams adventure like a randomly placed apostrophe in one's name."

"Well, that is quite an impressive title," Lavinia replied.

"Thanks fer noticin', Lady," Ta'Tarin said with a bow. "Now, where was I, oh yes -- I have news of an orc that worked for you."

Lavinia frowned at the man's use of the past tense. "Continue."

"Ah, the orc, where be he anyway, late as usual," called Jouko merrily.

Ta'Tarin Jin ignored Jouko. "Well, not news really, more of a story. Well, not so much of a story, perhaps, more of ... hmmm, what is the word I'm looking for? Update? No, status ... no. Ah, well, nevermind. To make a long story short, he be dead."

Rubbumba sat bolt upright. "Dead?!"

"Oh, that poor, dumb orc," Zhandle sighed.

Lavinia was pallid. "Dead? Gauruloc? Are you quite certain?"

"Well, by dead I mean his life not be with us anymore. You know, the check his pockets for loose change type o' dead. So yes, then, I'm quite certain, unless he be the kind of orc who might fancy another man diggin' through his trousers." Ta'Tarin seemed to quickly consider and then discard the last possibility.

Jouko poured a little bit of his wine on the floor, then stood and raised his goblet. "Poor chap, I liked the gruff bastard. A drink to honor the dead!"

Lavinia appeared to be in no mood for a toast. "How did he meet his end?"

"Well, with all due respect, he was a bit on the stupid side," offered Zhandle sadly. "That probably did him in. Maybe he took a long walk off a short pier, or jumped from the tower of Castle Teraknian fancying he could fly? Or forgot to breathe, perhaps?"

Ta'Tarin Jin offered a slightly more plausible explanation. "It was the Lotus Dragons, Lady. Ta'Tarin Jin knows them all too well. His last dying breath was to warn you, and bid me bring you this note. Oh, and that I should take his fine silver dagger, yes, he did say that, too."

Jouko drained a goblet, plopped back down in his chair and poured another, humming some melancholy dirge of the sea. Lavinia read Gauruloc's note aloud: "You are being watched by the Lotus Dragons. Your questions will bring you misery -- it's best to sit back and let things happen as they will. Further interference will only bring you tears."

Zhandlegarrii sobbed. "Oh that's so sad, he was going to bring us a letter that he couldn't even read. That poor dumb orc was a true friend."

Ta'Tarin Jin smoothly stepped around the table to Zhandle's side, slipping a comforting arm about her. "It's all right, dear, you can cry on me." With deft hands, Ta'Tarin fished several gold and silver pieces from Zhandle's coin purse. Zhandle blew her nose on Ta'Tarin's sleeve. Outraged at Jin's casual familiarity with his wife, Rubbumba leapt out of his chair, jumped up and grabbed the man's arm. Both of his hands wrapped about Ta'Tarin's forearm, and the little halfling swung back and forth uselessly some three inches off the ground.

Oblivious to the antics unfolding in her hall, Lavinia lamented Gauruloc's fate. "This is horrible. First Johari, and now Gauruloc -- I had no idea where this all would lead."

"Don't forget Tight-Britches," Zhandle said, but her remark was cut off by the boisterous Jouko.

"See m'lady," began Jouko opportunistically, "'tis dangerous business this. I be riskin' my neck for ye. All I ask is a fair wage for riskin' me life. I has four kids ta feed, ya know."

Lavinia ignored the drunken sailor. "What more can you tell us about these Lotus Dragons and the fate of Gauruloc of Corellon?"

Ta'Tarin Jin began his tale, using his arms dramatically. On one particularly exaggerated flourish, Rubb lost his grip on the man's arm and fell to the floor. "The Lotus Dragons be bad folk, my lady. Ta'Tarin Jin will be happy to tell you about them, but 'tis a long story. Perhaps you'd like to sit?" The man slipped an arm about the small of Lavinia's back and escorted her to a chair. Ta'Tarin managed to discreetly pocket an expensive looking bracelet, one of three Lavinia wore on her arm.

Jouko called out to Kora. "He says it's a long tale. We'll be needin' more wine!"

"Oh, a story!" squealed Zhandle, momentarily forgetting her struggle with her robes and her sadness over Guaruloc's death.

Ta'Tarin Jin grabbed a chair and jumped atop it. "The tale begins in Shadowshore, where many of my friends be working hard. Honest work for sure, my lady. I mean we may borrow an item or two, but it's always what we need."

While Ta'Tarin spun his tale, Rubb helpfully steadied the chair for him. With a little hop, the halfling managed to reach into Ta'Tarin's pockets, determined to find out what this shady character was hiding. For his effort, Rubb retrieved a small handful of coins -- unbeknownst to him, the very same ones that Ta'Tarin had just filched from Zhandle's purse.

Disappointed that he did not find something incriminating, Rubb muttered impatiently. "So, Shadowshore. Hard work, and all that. Where are you going with this, pirate?"

"Ah yes. Well, some of we honest folk have been running into trouble with these Lotus Dragons, as they have moved in on our turf. By trouble I mean having their innards removed in not so nice ways. The Lotus Dragons fancy themselves guild of all guilds, see. Take what they did to old Keltar Islaran, for example. Eviscerated the dottering bastard. I haven't heard o' that since my friend Same caught his favorite gal with a dwarf and he -- well, nevermind that."

"Nasty business, that!" called Jouko merrily. By now, Zhandlegarrii was snoring loudly, traces of drool dripping from her chin. Kora Whistlegap returned with a tray laden with cheese, exotic fruits and a special treat -- chocolate from the Amedio Jungle. She also brought several large carafes of wine and coffee grown on the plantations surrounding Sasserine. Rubbumba grabbed a piece of chocolate and waved it under Zhandle's nose.

Ta'Tarin Jin went on. "Well, rumors has it, these Lotus Dragons smuggle beasts, or animals, or something. Wait -- is a beast an animal, are they one in the same? Why anyone would want to smuggle an animal is beyond me. Me, I'd smuggle chaste halfling ladies I would."

Zhandlegarrii came to with a start and slapped the chocolate from Rubb's hand. It went soaring, splatting across the painting of Vanthus Vanderboren. Jouko laughed until wine poured out of his nose.

Lavinia pondered Jin's tale. "Animal smugglers, eh? I wonder if that scoundrel Soller Vark was involved with this villainous lot?" As Rubb considered the possible connection between the Lotus Dragons and Vark, Zhandle made short work of the Amedian chocolates.

"There was a nasty beastie aboard the Blue Nixie, all right," Jouko chimed.

"I don't know no Vark, but it is rumored the Dragons are in bed with a noble family," Jin said with a wink.

Lavinia appeared shocked. "I do not believe it!"

"You'd be surprised who gets into bed with who, my lady," Ta'Tarin said with a perverse gleam in his eye. "Why one night at the Last Ditch Lovers there was an orc and dwarf -- I mean, I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't paid -- I mean seen it myself."

Rubb guffawed, showing the first inkling of humor to creep into him all evening. Then, seeing an opportunity to seize the limelight from Ta'Tarin, he blurted out. "We have proof that the Lotus Dragons operate from the Taxidermist's Hall in Sunrise District!"

"Well," interrupted Ta'Tarin Jin, "it just so happens that the big orc was killed in Dead Dog Plaza, right by the Taxidermist's Hall. I remember it like 'twere yesterday. In fact, it were earlier this eve! Oldest trick in the book. A boy tries to take the orc's purse, but gets caught and runs, thus having the mark, your orc, give chase. Well, the urchin leads your fella right inta Dead Dog Alley. And there he's met by a volley of Lotus Dragon bolts...."

Rubbumba boldly cut Ta'Tarin off. "Have we all lost our nerve? Upon our escape from that zombie infested island, I thought we had committed ourselves to come here and tell the Lady that we are faced with the unfortunate task of hunting her brother down!"

Jouko scratched his chin. "Well, didn't seem the opportune time to tell her, what with her just gettin' back from business. And hearing o' yer own brother's murderous treachery, well, that's the sort of thing that might spoil one's supper."

Lavinia turned on Rubb and Jouko. "What are you talking about? I know Vanthus has fallen in with a bad crowd, but you speak as if you mean him dead."

Rubb summoned all his resolve. "Yes, I'm afraid I do mean him dead, Lady. He has done more than fall in with a bad crowd. He is evil, that brother of yours. An opportunist and a murderer of the worst sort, I'm afraid. Jouko, show her the note from Penkus. Tell her what we endured at the hands of her brother! Tell her about Verys, and the -- you know, the elf guts!"

Jouko pulled Penkus' parchment from his vest pocket and tosses it onto the table. Realizing no one was paying attention to his story, Ta'Tarin Jin plopped down in his chair and snatched a nearby goblet of wine.

Lavinia's expression turned from shock to despair as she read Penkus' damning indictment of her brother. "This is horrible. If this is all true -- yet, I cannot admit to myself that Vanthus is beyond redemption. Follow every lead. Work with this man, Mister Jin, he seems to know much of these Lotus Dragons. Crush them, and bring my brother back alive. If he makes this impossible, though -- I only ask that his death be merciful and quick."

Rubbumba nodded. "It is all true. The blood of Verys is on Vanthus' hands, Lady Lavinia. And, if not for -- uh, well, for the uh -- 'heroics' of the pirate here, the rest of us would be dead or dying now as well."

Ta'Tarin Jin smiled slyly at Lavinia. "I accept yer offer, lady. I recall hearing something about a retainer...." Then, with a sideways glance at Zhandle, he whispered, "Whatever she's payin', we could make ten times that at the brothel, my dear." Zhandle displayed uncanny accuracy in spite of her usual clumsiness. In her trembling hands, a salad fork became a deadly instrument, flying unerringly across the table and striking Ta'Tarin Jin, tines first, right in the tender man-parts. Ta'Tarin doubled over in pain, and Jouko roared with laughter.

"Deserved, wee lady, deserved, but perhaps you would be so kind," Ta'Tarin hissed through clenched teeth, "as to kiss it and make it better?"

Lavinia surprised everyone with the severity of her voice. "Enough! There will be no more fighting, solicitation, brawling, boozing, or scandalous talk in my hall this night!"

"Well then," hiccupped Jouko, "I must bid you good evening."

"Yes, the hour grows late, Lady," said Rubbumba grimly. "We know our task. We'll find your brother. Dead or alive, we'll bring him back to you."