(Tavern) City of Orussus, The Red Dragon Inn IV

[neoweasel]

He eyes seem to focus briefly on the quartet of adventurers seated nearby. Reeling over to the table as if drunk, he croaks out, "Lads! I needs yer help, for I be in dire straits like as ye'd never seen."

Gurian looks at him curiously. "I'm willing to help you but, if it involves your trade, I'm not quite sure what I can do for you. I'm a warrior, not a sailor."

 

[Ruined]

Kristoff looked up from a long sip of ale and examined the sailor before him. Would this be the hand dealt to him by Grendath?

”Have a seat, man. Tell us your plight.” He slid over to make some room for him at the table. As he did so, he glanced at his companions to see their responses. He didn’t want to commit everyone to the man’s request. “With Fortune’s Blessing, we might just be the ones you need.”

 

[Jack Haggerty]

Rather than taking a seat, the old salt clutches at Kristoff's cloak.

"They're af'er me, boys," he gasps out. "They're lookin' fer it, but they'll ne'er find it. I need ye t' get it fer me. I can' go back me self. They'll be waitin' fer me."

He grimaces painfully, red showing amongst his teeth. "It's in me ship... down in the bilge p... ACK-HEM!" He coughs suddenly, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "Watch... out... fer... leeward... uuhhhh..."

Masthead's eyes roll up into his head just before he slumps over the table and slides down onto the floor. A narrow tear at the back of the sailor's tunic reveals a dark spreading stain of blood.

 

[Ruined]

OOC: Not sure if you want to start this here or not Jack, but Kristoff will pull his (Masthead's) tunic back to reveal the wound. Can a Heal check tell me if he can be saved, even with my magical means?

 

[Jack Haggerty]

OOC: Not sure if you want to start this here or not Jack, but Kristoff will pull his (Masthead's) tunic back to reveal the wound. Can a Heal check tell me if he can be saved, even with my magical means?

OOC: We will continue here until you and/or anyone else is ready to leave the Inn. Yes, you can check the wound, but that'll have to wait until I get home from work...

 

[Jack Haggerty]

Kristoff pulls back the sailor's tunic to examine the wound. It is not very large, apparently made by some sort of piercing weapon, probably a small dirk or dagger of some sort. The weapon was, however, expertly inserted into the sailor's lower back just at the point where it would skewer several vital organs and a major artery all at once.

Kristoff notices an odd discoloration in the skin around the wound, and a faintly unnatural odor... There must have some sort of poison on the blade.

The old salt is unfortunately far beyond Kristoff's meager healing abilities, and has gone to pay a visit to whichever deity he had happened to believe in.

 

[neoweasel]

Gurian looks at the corpse and grimaces. "I don't suppose that anyone here knows the name of his boat, off the top of their head? It seems that there is something in it which no longer has an owner and that people are willing to kill over. It might be... interesting to look into it."

 

[Ruined]

"Stabbed and poisoned, it looks like." Kristoff stopped and gave a serious look to those at the table. "The words of a dying man should be heeded, although this one could prove quite deadly."

Kristoff gently brushed his hands over Masthead's eyelids, whispering a prayer to Grendath that his soul's journey be less painful than his life's. After a few moments, he rose and walked over to the bar.

"*ahem* Excuse me, barkeep. That poor man seems to have walked in and died near our table. You may want to find your constable or whomever tends to the dead here."

 

[Jack Haggerty]

No patrons seem to awake at this time of the morning (almost lunchtime?), and Joe and his barmaid must have gone down to the cellar to tap another keg... For your requests fall upon a suddenly deserted room, as you look around to find yourselves alone with the corpse.

The door swings open a second time, and the telltale silhouettes of a small goblin and large hobgoblin stand framed in the light of the doorway. A small human wearing an eyepatch and a sneer pushes between them to take in the scene.

"Ye weren' s'ppose to scuttle 'im, ye scabber!" Patch complains angrily, cuffing the goblin across the side of his head. Shorty indignantly gabbles something unintelligable in reply.

Patch steps up with Shorty and Muscles right behind. He glares at each of you in turn with his single blood-shot eye, "Aye, mates. What'd the rummy tell ye. Speak up, an' it'll be clear sailin' fer the lot of us." Shorty and Muscles stand just behind him, looking threatening... Muscles grimaces and cracks his enormous knuckles, while Shorty fingers a slim, dirty-looking knife.

 

[neoweasel]

Patch steps up with Shorty and Muscles right behind. He glares at each of you in turn with his single blood-shot eye, "Aye, mates. What'd the rummy tell ye. Speak up, an' it'll be clear sailin' fer the lot of us." Shorty and Muscles stand just behind him, looking threatening... Muscles grimaces and cracks his enormous knuckles, while Shorty fingers a slim, dirty-looking knife.

Gurian sneers at the goblin as he reaches for his guisarme. "Now now, little... thing, why don't you put that away before we're forced to hurt you?"
He glances at Patch and continues, "Masthead didn't say anything coherent. Take your friends and go play with someone who'll put up with you. It's too early to deal with the Watch over some thugs' bodies."