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Fantasy Ghosts Of Saltmarsh (Open)

Nyhm

BirthOfEden
Smoke everywhere…

The smell of burning flesh, the air full of screams.



The clean and purified smell of the medical district in the cathedral filled Tam’s nostril as he took a deep breath. His wounds were minor, but the nurses made it clear he needed to rest another day before he could leave. The night at the Empty Barrel was almost a complete blur now.

Tam! Over here, please!

Turning around he saw a woman crushed below a flaming beam that had fallen from the second floor only moments ago. Her hand was raised towards his, her fingers mangled and broken.


“Nurse!” Yelled Tam. He licked his lips, feeling around his teeth. All still there. Good.

“No, you cannot go yet.” A nurse came from around the corner. She was wearing white robes with a red silk belt tied around her waist. Her dark hair smelled heavily of perfume and incense.

“Who made it? Who lived other than me?”

The nurse lowered her vision, shaking her head. “You saved half the people in the bar that night. You are now a hero, your name is spreading across Saltmarsh even quicker than when you were a criminal.

Criminal… Tam made a light chuckle at the word. He was a half-orc, deemed a criminal no matter what he did. His smile revealed his golden tooth as he spoke:

“A criminal gone hero? And people are just drinking it up, huh?”

“Tam, I think it’s time to get some rest. You’ll be out of here in no time, then you can go back to gambling and fighting. Or maybe you can go save a cat from a tree this time.” The nurse smiled.

“Funny.” He replied, closing his eyes and drifting away.
 
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A gull glides down the coast from the east and over the docks of Saltmarsh. It turns right, where the Kingfisher River and ocean meet but stops before the bridge and circles over the top of what was once a red-roofed building but is now a ruin of ash and burned wreckage. It slowly descends and lands in the husk of the old tavern. The bird's shape shifts, rising into a cloaked figure who looks around to inspect what remains.

"Damn it!" he spits under his breath "Where is that Half-Orc? Better check the cemetery."

The figure removes his hood revealing his curved horns and red-hued face. He rolls his neck and stretches his shoulders. He walks across the bridge and heads east. Krag should know what happened and if not he can check with Eliander. Reaching the side of the temple he looks for the gravedigger.

"Krag, Krag you 'round?!" shouted Wyllt. "If he isn't here I am going to have to walk all the back to Eliander's house. Hello!"
 
The next day Tam was released from the medical ward. It was bright outside with the fresh chill of Autumn in the wind. Leaves fell from giant oaks in colorful burgundy around him.

"Krag, Krag you'round?" He heard a voice off somewhere, possibly close by. Is that Wyllt?

Tam tightened the buckle around his great axe. "Tavern. I need a drink. Do your bird thing and meet me there. Top room on the left."

Could Wyllt actually hear the words Tam spoke? Who knows! All the half-orc knew was that it's time to get to business on this Scarlet Brotherhood attack. How can we be sure it was them, though?

Enough with the conspiracy, you're conspiring about a conspiracy and the Brotherhood obviously made the attack. The can be discrete or plain-in-sight depending on the effect they intended to create.


Best Catch was the name of the tavern Tam made his way to today. It was where all of the fishermen came after a long day out at sea, so it was typically dead during the earlier hours. Inside the tavern was decorated with fishing nets like spiderwebs across the walls, over the chandelier, and coating the large hearth in the back wall. Sculptures of fish the size of a human hand to the size of a horse hung on the walls throughout various places here. Above the hearth rested on a shelf was the taxidermy of a Sahuagin smoking a cigar.

Tam took a seat directly in front of the tap at the bar. A small man appeared from behind the counter wearing a dusty apron. His eyes were a dark blue and he had the lined face of a retired sailor. "Haven't seen you in a while." He said to Tam.

"I'll have two ales, and another for a friend who's meeting me here. Then we can talk." Tam sighed, unclipping his great axe and resting it up against the stool he sat on.
 
"Do the bird thing, he says. Do The Bird Thing?! What am I made of birds?"

With Krag nowhere in sight maybe this lunk could give me some answers. He looked familiar but not someone I could recall at the moment. Wyllt made his way to one of the windows of the temple and peered inside. Injured townsfolk, maybe the fire was really bad. One would think being so close to the sea would make fires a bit easier to put out. That must mean there is more to the story.

Tom? No, that isn't his name. Wyllt slowly walked to another of the town's taverns. He was now looking for any other changes. For a town this size, losing anyone is a tragedy. Small towns have a way of making you get to know your neighbors, coworkers, leaders, and so on. Terry? No, wrong again.

Arriving at the Best Catch or so the sign said, Wyllt walked in and found the Half-Orc at the bar with 3 mugs of what was probably ale. "I hope one of those is for me, Tim. Are we talking here? I have questions and something tells me you may have answers."
 
A smile crossed over Tam's face at the sound of Wyllt walking in. His teeth gleamed bright in the eyes of the barkeep.

"Right here, man." Tam spoke aloud, gesturing with his arm to take a seat beside him. He stood from his bar stool and walked over to the entrance of the tavern, then closed and bolted the doors. "I was there from the beginning," Turning around he cast a serious look at Wyllt and the barkeep. "Give me an hour to explain and then you can have your bar back. Listen to me carefully otherwise it could be The Best Catch that goes up like a match tonight."

Both men seemed uncomfortable at the rash behavior Tam was showing, and he knew it. Perhaps it would help them cling to each word he was about to tell them. "It's that damned brotherhood."

"The Scarlet Brotherhood!" The barkeep said, his long and grey eye brows moving high up his face. "Tam, you know there is no defense against those people! They do whatever they want!"

"They have reasons, Ben. Everyone has reasons. I saw one of them in the bar that night. He wasn't wearing any disguise, just an ordinary dressed man enjoying his time at a few tables drinking, gambling, and laughing. I would have never expected him to do what he did." Tam explained, "After he was done enjoying his time, he just left. Closing the doors behind him was when he did it. Fire erupted from his hands and the Empty Barrel's doors became a giant wall of fire in a matter of seconds."
 
"How'd things get to a point where they feel safe enough to do this? What about the guard? What are they doing about it after the fire? None of this makes sense." Wyllt pauses to take a sip and then looks around the tavern. He leans in closer to the two. "Is this even the best place to be meeting?"

Wyllt let his head fall back and groaned at the ceiling. His face now grim he looked back at the two. "I didn't plan on staying very long. Though I can't just leave now hearing that. Come back to some hill of ash and rubble. So who is spearheading this Tim? Captain of the guard? Council? That's where we need to be! Figure it'd be best to push em back into whatever hole they crawled out of, yeah? Shine a bit of light into that rats nest."

Wyllt finished his drink and pushed the mug back to the barkeep.

"Maybe you don't have the answers I'm looking for Tim but it looks like we are going to have to go find them. Hideout. Purpose. Leader."

Wyllt looked back at the door to the tavern. "We need to know who they are. Hopefully, before they strike again."
 
The doors to the tavern began shuddering. Knock. Knock. Knock knock. Knock.

Tim heard whispering coming from the other side of the door and moved closer to hear. Pressing his ear up against the wood grain, he listened...

"Yes I'm sure. That was the password."

"Do you think Ol' Joe heard?"

"Let's try it again."

Knock. Knock. Knock knock. Knock.

"Just let them in. Both City Guardsmen, both idiots. Good conversationalists though. I'll sometimes let them in after hours." Said Ol' Joe, motioning to the two men easily seen through the side window in the tavern. Both were wearing full chain armor. One was squat and fat, the other tall and lanky. A perfect due.

Tam unbolted and cracked the doors.

"It worked! See? I remembered the code!" The short one said, pushing the door further open and walking in. "Ol' Joe! Best bar in town, especially since the Empty Barrel is gone."

"Shhh!" The tall guard smacked the short guard across the helm which in turn made a loud DONG! sound and spun the helmet around the fat man's head twice. "You know that is private business, Gip!"
 

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