Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)

[Lazlow]

It feels good to get out and about this morning - that is to say, the air seems a little less oppressive, the sky a little less overcast, than in the town proper. You all make your way north, following the road, and pass a scant few parties on the way, mainly farmers taking their day's produce into town to market. The road follows closely along the banks of the Greenwash, and the odd barge or ferry floats past every once in a while.

As you make your way further north, the farmers' fields start to thin out, making way for more trees and a hillock or two. Soon a large structure pokes up on the horizon, rising up higher and straighter than any of the trees surrounding it. The sun hangs moodily in the sky, as if it realizes it still has another 8 or 9 hours until it can disappear again.

Soon a smaller ribbon of road branches off from the main one you've been following, and seems to lead more in the direction of the tower structure. A sign off to the side of this smaller road reads:

PRIVATE ROAD
TRESPASSERS WILL BE DEALT WITH... ACCORDINGLY.​

 

[Gray Shade]

"Ah, yes," Berserker Bill says without breaking pace or giving any pause. "This is the place!" He confidently walks down the path toward the tower, seeming to expect the rest of the party to follow.

 

[LogicsFate]

K follows along, paying little attention to dire warnings "How long till we get there?"

 

[Lazlow]

The side road leads off into a slightly more wooded area, and after a few more minutes of walking, the main road is soon out of view. The shadows have started to shorten a bit with the rising sun, but the overcast pall makes them no less oppressive. Along the path a curious collection of statuary lines the way; even a quick glance from an eye untrained in the art of sculpture can appreciate the vivid likenesses, the subjects of which spanned a strange spectrum of common townsfolk, wealthy merchants, savage creatures, and indescribable aberrations.

Presently a bend in the road leads out of the woods and into a fair-sized clearing, in the center of which sits a single squarish structure. Small windows at least fifteen feet up peer out over the tops of the shorter trees, and above those, a single tower rises up at least another fifty feet (you recognize this as the structure you saw earlier on the road). It has no windows, but a gap in the wall running the perimeter of the top of the tower seems to be an inner balcony of sorts, from which can be seen a slight greenish glow.

The path narrows a bit and leads right up to a large set of double wooden doors bound with iron, which sits impressively in the center of the stone wall facing you. Perched above the door, set in a small niche, sits a single grotesque head, its bulging eyes peering down a hooked, misshapen nose.

 

[Wystan]

Presently a bend in the road leads out of the woods and into a fair-sized clearing, in the center of which sits a single squarish structure. Small windows at least fifteen feet up peer out over the tops of the shorter trees, and above those, a single tower rises up at least another fifty feet (you recognize this as the structure you saw earlier on the road). It has no windows, but a gap in the wall running the perimeter of the top of the tower seems to be an inner balcony of sorts, from which can be seen a slight greenish glow.

The path narrows a bit and leads right up to a large set of double wooden doors bound with iron, which sits impressively in the center of the stone wall facing you. Perched above the door, set in a small niche, sits a single grotesque head, its bulging eyes peering down a hooked, misshapen nose.

"Ewww, now this is surely a place that can use an interior and exterior decorator. I mean, look at the hideous gargoyle there. I think we need to march right up there and knock on those doors and ask the denizens how they can deign to live in an abode that hurts the sensibilities so badly. I cannot see how anyone with such a poor outlook on design and aesthetics can pretend to be able to assist others. No windows on the main tower; must be very gloomy inside as well. I think that ‘Hrglebrgle the drowned god said it best when he said ‘jklk saduify kjyfwf…glub glub glub’”

I look at Mr. Sergeant berserker Bill and smile

”After you sir.”

 

[LogicsFate]

K finds herself stopping at an aberration childhood nightmare? insanity personified? Ranti on an off day? Speaking to Bill "Why are we here again? What could possible be this important?"

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill can't help but grin widely at Ranti's 'Drowned God' quote.

"We seek Sir Dudley, whose help we need to get the Orb of Frobozz. However, since he has mysteriously disappeared, we have come here, to the abode of his supposed friend, Al the Wizard. If he, indeed, is Sir Dudley's ally, then surely he will be able to tell us how to reach the knight, or what his fate was." He then steps forward and bangs loudly on the door with his huge fist. "Al the Wizard!" he calls. "We seek thy guidance."

 

[Lazlow]

"I'm not deaf, ya great lout," a stern, annoyed voice says. It seems to be coming from above the doorway.

"First of all, Dudley is not an 'ally', as you say. I know him - too well, actually - but an ally he most certianly is not. As for his whereabouts, well, heh heh heh..." the voice trailed off into a chuckle. "That - well, that would be telling. Heh. Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm up here," it says rather perturbedly, "above the door."

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill looks above the doorway, but doesn't let his gaze rest on anything in particular and ends up just looking out into the sky above the tower. "Hmm . . . ah. Oh, great sky spirit, Al, we beseech thy service. Where is Sir Dudley, that we may contact him? Uh . . . we bring the sacrifice ordained and foretold in legend!" He then starts rummaging through his bag for something to offer the wizard, muttering curses. He withdraws a portable ram and holds it while thinking for a moment before putting it back with a shake of the head. Finally, he says, "AH-ha!" and pulls the feather from his own hat. "We offer the ancient magical feather of shapechanging--as is foretold. Now," he is now looking all over in the sky, not just above the doorway or even the tower, "where is the one we seek?" He then ceremoniously puts the feather, with both hands, down in the doorway to the tower.

OOC: The feather is his Quall's Feather Token: Anchor . . . VERY USEFUL! C'mon, I know he wants it!

 

[Lazlow]

The voice mutters to itself: "Great googly moogly... <unh> Why do I always get the morons... <OOF>"

Presently, the door opens. Standing there is a man dressed in an expensive-looking purple robe with silver trim, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. He wears expensive-looking leather slippers with pointy silver tips and silver buckles. He would, in all respects, not be all that remarkable, except for the fact that his head looks exactly like the grotesque that sat above the doorway. Indeed, upon further inspection, the niche above the doorway is no longer occupied.

The gargoyle-headed man stands there for a second, then looks down and sees the feather on the stoop. He picks it up, shrugs, and pockets it.

"What is it you want, now? Looking for the Orb of Frobozz, eh? Good luck with aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall THAT, my fine fellows. I - ouch! Oh, hold on a second."

As he spoke, he absently made to scratch his nose, but grazing his finger on a sharp, stony tooth, realized something was amiss. With both hands, he removed the grotesque's head from his own, and set it on a small table in the doorway. This revealed an old but still good-looking man, dark hair slicked back, a thin moustache and pointy beard - both trimmed with silver tips - adorned an otherwise thin face.

"Alright, well, I don't have much time to bother with cryptic talk and doublespeak. You do something for me, and I'll do something for you, alright? I have information regarding the possible - POSSIBLE, mind you! - whereabouts of the orb. I will give it to you once you complete a task for me. Oh, don't fret, it's a simple task. Come in now, please, I'll have to show you something first." Without further ado he walks back inside, leaving the door open.