Issue #4: Southpot. Episode 3 of 5
By late afternoon, all of us are back at the inn. The injured members of the party have come down for an evening meal, looking much better for the day’s rest.
We start talking to Fox about the job Grilliam offered. Mostly, we want to know what's been going on in the area that we might have to deal with. He tells us that there has always been a lot of smuggling, every couple of years the rat men have to be put down, occasionally there are goblins, and to the west, war is brewing with Calastia, which means there are fewer troops to guard the town against invasions of Titanspawn.
Miriel says that we want to help the town, but that we could definitely use some experienced help. Fox says that the men of the garrison are good, and Lamarack is a fine commander, but there really aren't a lot of adventurers in town, and, indeed, most of those that have come through have already joined us. He suggests we might find others down around the wharf, if there are any more. He and Grilliam and Verenia, who are from the previous generation of adventurers, don't really go out anymore, as they now stay to govern the town.
Miriel asks what the government is like. Fox says that there's the Vesh governor, but he is far away, and the town is really run by the council. He also says that when very bad things are going on, eventually adventurers or special forces such as the Vigilants will show up.
Goldpetal asks how long it's been since a druid passed through town. Fox says that there is one every once in a while, but druids don't really like towns, even though they are not unwelcome here. There are some who are seen out in the woods, and the farmers respect and appreciate them, as they make the land healthier.
At this point, Fox says “Oh, I just remembered! Grilliam sent a message, asking you to come see him.” Fox starts going on a bit about how Grilliam is just one member of the council, not the mayor or anything, but he acts as a leader when the town needs one. Fox implies that Grilliam has gotten kind of stuffy since their younger days.
We all get up to go to talk to Grilliam, when Chuck, Miriel, and Goldpetal notice a weird coincidence - there is a halfling at the next table over. They’ve seen him several times at the bar, Miriel saw him at the temple, and Chuck and Goldpetal saw him at the jeweler’s. By the time they have compared notes, he is gone.
When the five of us get to the temple of Hedrada, we go through the usual process of going from the Gatekeeper to the Greeter, and manage to sidestep the Tour Guide. We are taken in to see Grilliam, who is very busy, as usual, but takes time to talk to us.
“You sent for us?” asks Stone.
“Will you accept my offer?” Grilliam inquires. “That’s ten platinum, in advance, to be my eyes and ears.”
Stone nods once, firmly. “I accept.”
The rest of us are not sure. Goldpetal asks, “Would we be working for the town or for the temple of Hedrada?”
Grilliam says, “For me.”
“Under the auspices of the god Hedrada?”
“Yes,” Grilliam answers, “But fully sanctioned by the town Council, of course."
Miriel says “I will accept your job,” and Paks nods in agreement.
Goldpetal is not yet convinced. “How long would we be accepting the job for?”
“At least as long as it takes to sort out the smuggling situation. Who is coming in with goods, and where are they taking them? What are those sheets of paper you found about?
“Also, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is, Delonia escaped - she charmed some of Lamarack’s constables and they let her go. We think she’s hiding out in town, and the guards are performing a thorough search, but they haven’t found her. There aren’t any tracks into the wilderness.”
Chuck asks, “Might she have left by sea?”
“I don’t know. Possibly. It would be good if you could find her, too. We did question the other smugglers. They were selling slaves to the ratmen in exchange for poison. Everyone knows the ratmen like human slaves. They’ll be tried fully quite soon.”
Goldpetal looks perturbed by this statement. “They confessed,” he says. “What do you need a trial for?”
“We must follow the laws,” the priest of Justice explains.
“What was the good news?” asks Paks.
“We got the name of her contact with the Slytherin.” The name he gives us sounds like “Sea-Sea”, but as we learn later, is spelled SySy.
Chuck changes the subject. “Did you send anyone to the tower?”
“No.” Grilliam looks at him as though he is daft. “Didn’t you clear it out?”
“Sure,” Chuck explains, “But obviously someone will be returning.”
Grilliam says nothing to this. After a moment’s contemplative silence, he suggests, “You might try to decipher that parchment you found in the tower.”
“I’d been thinking about that.” Miriel, who had been quietly observing the conversation, speaks up. “We found a lantern; they’re probably lantern signals.”
“Good thinking,” says Grilliam. “Maybe the Harbormaster, Follisan, can help you with that.”
“Chuck was planning to go down to the docks,” Miriel says. “He might get some information at an inn down there.”
“He should try the Conch and Trident; it’s a popular inn near the docks.” He looks at Miriel, and adds, “But I think it’s too rough for a girl like you.”
Chuck asks, “Would the Harbormaster be in his office right now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t keep tabs on him.”
Chuck asks, hopefully, “If we accept the job, we get 10 platinum each, right?”
Grilliam gives him a stern look, that suggests he ought not be trifled with. “No. Ten for all of you.”
We all finally accept the job. Splitting our reward, ten gold coins each, and the advance on our new commission, we wind up with sixteen apiece, plus four more for the party fund.
As we leave the temple of Hedrada, we discuss our next steps. After some discussion, Chuck goes down to the harbor alone. Miriel and Goldpetal don’t feel it would be safe for either of them, and Paks promises Stone that she’ll buy him a drink if he goes back to Fox’s inn and rests some more, no matter how much he wants to accompany Chuck. Goldpetal asks Chuck to ask about or look for tattoo artists, especially elven ones. Chuck takes a copy of the parchment with the signals on it (but not the ‘A’ it is signed with), leaving the originals with Miriel. The others head back to the Laughing Ogre with Chuck’s pack, and all his money except some silver and copper.
Chuck decides to try to find the harbormaster first. After crossing the market square, he finds himself in a much seedier area than those he has so far explored in the town. There are a lot of old warehouses, with bars on the upper floors. As it gets darker, activity in the area picks up; there are a lot of carousing sailors in town. Given that this is the beginning of the week, the area must be really wild on the weekends. He passes some women of ill repute, and quite a few longshoremen.
When he finds the Harbormaster’s office, it has already closed for the evening. He asks a passerby where the Harbormaster might be, and also where he might find a tattoo artist. He’s told that the Harbormaster is probably at the Conch, and that he’s already passed several tattoo shops, most of which were already closed for the night. He’s pointed at one which is still open, just across the way. Within, he sees a drunken sailor getting two crossed anchors with “MOM” across them tattooed onto his upper arm. He doesn’t think this place is what Goldpetal was looking for.
The buildings in this area are densely packed and haphazardly arranged. There are a lot of alleys, and he’s directed into one of these when he asks about the Conch and Trident.
The Conch and Trident is hard to miss. It has a large sign, with a straightforward graphic of a conch with a trident superimposed. The sign is swinging slightly, squeaking in the wind off the water front. Even from the street, he can hear the noise of the patrons within.
As he walks in, he sees a big room, dark and smoky, and crowded with sailors and longshoremen. There are many large, rough-looking men, and everyone seems to be drinking. As the door closes behind him, he hears a loud shriek, and the sounds of glass breaking. No one else seems to pay attention, so he ignores it, too.
Chuck walks up to the bar, trying to act casual, but staying alert. The bartender is an ugly half-orc, and is easily the largest man in the room. Chuck orders a tankard of ale, paying for it with a piece of silver. Though this is an enormous overpayment, the bartender returns no change, saying, “Thanks, mate.”
Chuck asks him about the Harbormaster.
“He left already,” grunts the bartender. “Probably went home. He’s getting old, has a wife and kids. Anyway, he had quite a night last night - it was Vansday.” That is the day of Vangal, the god of chaos and havoc, so his day is always a heavy drinking day.
Chuck looks around the bar as he’s drinking his ale. He sees about what he would expect; plenty of fishermen and some women of ill repute. For a moment he thinks he catches sight of the same halfling he had noticed earlier in the day, but when he gets a closer look, it isn’t the halfling he thought it was.
Chuck looks around for a “friendly” game of dice. He sees a heated game in one corner and goes over to watch. They’re playing a game he knows,
Cojones. There are some silver pieces on the table, and everyone is drinking. Chuck asks if he can join the game and they welcome him - for five silver pieces. He checks out the pot and it looks reasonable. He learns that they’re a bunch of sailors who just got off a boat, on a long cruise from Hedrad. They’ve been at sea for a few weeks.
When it’s Chuck’s first turn to roll, he breaks even. He makes friendly conversation; they seem nice enough, but he’s a landlubber, and they clearly think they’re going to take him. They tell him newcomers have to buy drinks for the table. With all his silver tied up in the game, and his gold at home, Chuck can’t afford to. Thinking quickly, he says, “I’ll roll ya’ for it.” The first roll is a tie, but on the second, Chuck wins. The sailor who spoke buys a round of beer. There’s more drinking and dicing, but Chuck tries to cut off the alcohol after his second drink.
It’s a doomed effort. After his next roll, where he breaks even, a drunken sailor comes up to him. “Aren’t you that hero guy? Didn’t you rescue that kid?” Before Chuck can deflect his enthusiasm, the sailor insists, “Hey, lemme buy you a drink!” He comes back with strong grog. Now the sailors want to hear the story. Chuck tells it as drinks. As he tells the story, he wins steadily, winding up three silver ahead. The sailors are impressed with the tale; they pat him in the back and buy him another drink.
He has somehow become the hero of the bar, everyone wants to buy him a drink. He can tell that he’s getting drunk, and the bar is getting even rowdier as the evening wears on.
Eventually, Chuck pulls out the copy of the parchment and asks the sailors about the signals.
One of the sailors says, “Ah, these be seamen’s signals. Everyone knows these.”
Chuck, slurring his words, says, “ ’M no sailor.”
“I knew that,” the sailor says. “Look, these dashes are long flashes. This is an X; it stands for a short flash.” They give him the beats for the spacing of the flashes, it takes him a while to learn in his inebriated state. When he gets it down, the sailor orders him another drink.
The signals are:
I: -XXX: is it clear?
II: X-X-: affirmative; coast clear
III: ---: message received; on our way
IV: X-X-: affirmative; coast clear
Chuck, studies the signals blearily. “Wait a second! Why are there two ‘coast clear’ messages?”
His new friend explains, “Oh, that be standard sailor stuff. To be sure the message got through.”
Chuck thanks him, and tries to bow out of the table. One of the other sailors insists, “You can’t leave, play some more!”
Chuck bets all of his winnings on his next roll, and wins again, winning five more silver. He once again tries to collect his winnings and leave, but as he has not lost once, he gets accused of cheating! One of the men at the table pulls out a dagger and threatens him, while another objects that he couldn’t be cheating, he’s a hero. As if everyone was just waiting for an excuse, the inevitable bar brawl ensues.
The table is flipped over and all the silver goes flying. The beer is spilled everywhere. Someone pushes someone, someone else draws a knife. Fortunately, the two with knives go at each other, and not after Chuck. As he backs away, he gets hit on the head by a chair. The bartender gets up on the bar, pulls out a big club, and starts knocking heads.
Chuck tries to make it out of the bar through the mayhem. He ducks swinging glasses, chairs, and the club the bartender is swinging, but as he nears the doorway, he is hit in the head by a glass and knocked down.
As he pushes himself up onto all fours, he is grabbed from behind and stabbed in the kidney! He hears someone whisper in his ear, through the din of the fight, “This is for the tower!” He slumps to the floor, bleeding profusely.
When people realize that he’s bleeding, the brawl begins to subside. The people around him clear a space, inching out the door. The bartender grabs a vial and pours it in Chuck’s mouth. Though he feels better, he’s still bleeding.
“Who stabbed him?” roars the bartender. “That’s it! We’re closed!”
Chuck, reeling from the shock of the wound, thinks he might have seen a halfling from the corner of his eye. He forgets this as a man in a hooded clock comes over, bends over him, and tells the bartender. “I’m a friend, I can take it from here.”
