Porthca Landing I: Memory of the Sea

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Ander stares in disbelief at the gold clad cleric and the man with his face covered. He doesn't think of anything to say to these newcomers, he just assumes that sitting back and hearing a bit more of their stories will lead him to a better understanding of these odd strangers.
 
Virra took in all that Elza said with growing disbelief. "No, I don't hear anything from Chilldrift," she said eventually. "I might know some good routes back there, but nothing too fast. I mean... you say it's been months?"

She leaned back against the opposite wall, frowning with concentration. "The trip to Wyford is gonna take about half a week with the carriage. Getting to Chilldrift from there would probably take a little over a month, but you'll need to hire some transport for that. There's no way you're walking it. So... a hundred and twenty gold at least." Still thinking out loud, her gaze moved up to Eliza's face, trying to find a solution that she'd agree with. "The obvious answer would be to ask Ben, your very wealthy friend, for a loan that he can totally afford to grant you. But it sounds like you don't want to do that." VIrra grimaced. "Are you sure you don't want to ask Anthol for a wage? Better to face a little embarrassment than stay broke. Heck, I'll ask him for you," she said suddenly, turning back towards the dining room.
 
The Knight listened to the apparent cleric in mild interest, although his eyes widened slightly at the mention of Emberhallow. Well... this could prove to be a complication. It's fine. There's no way anyone could make the connection, not after every precaution I've taken. He glanced over to Tyrius and stared at him for a moment as he introduced himself, but turned to face Anthol as he spoke. "My 'pologies, milord, I was hopin' ta keep the pleasantries pleasant fer a while. Also, might I add that ya have my sympathy fer yer loss as well. I'm 'fraid that word don't travel too fast out in the wilderness. Anyways, ta business. I believe this belongs ta one of ya." He reached into his pack and pulled out the de'Porthca brooch, placing it on the table and sliding it down the length to Anthol. "Found it on the beaches earlier this mornin', along with lotsa tracks in the sand out there. Folks were sayin' it was somethin' about a bar brawl, but my gut's tellin' me that ya know somethin' about what's really goin' on here. I've got a score ta settle that's takin' me quite a long ways, and I reckon you folks are probably my best bet of rightin' them wrongs. So tell me, pardners, whadda ya know 'bout a man that lives in the waves and vanishes like the mist?" He looked around the room, his tone having grown more serious as he spoke.
 
Eliza gasped and yelling "No!", jumped towards Vira to try and stop her from telling the rest. "Promise you will keep it between us! Promise! Or else...or else I will magic this conversation out of your memory!" The half-orc gasped with strained breath finding herself in a tangled heap.
 
Virra never saw her coming. "Hey!" she squeaked, bowled over by the half-orc's tackle before she could think to teleport. She wondered how many people in the house heard the clatter as both of them hit the ground in a sprawling mess.

She pushed herself up on her hands and glared at Eliza, trying to figure out whether or not she was serious about the memory thing. Then she sighed. "Okay, fine! If you're gonna be so dramatic about it..." Little by little she managed to extricate herself from the wizard's semi-grip until she could get into a sitting position, legs crossed.

"I can't afford to pay your way home," she said at length, rubbing her forehead. "And that won't change if nobody's paying me, or you." Her expression was a little softer when she finally looked back at Eliza's face. "It's going to take weeks to get answers from the Sea. I promise I'll keep your secret and look for a way out, but... you really need to learn how to take an opportunity, Lizzy." She paused. "Am I okay to call you Lizzy?"
 
Banrigg’s mouth opened in surprise as he saw the shrub opening the door, and he crouched slightly to view it even closer. “Wow, look a’ you lil guy, ain’t ye just adorable...Oh, g’day Lady Defallion, m’names Banrigg. I just came in on th’ Pathfinder, you see I’ve been makin’ m’way north, stoppin’ along at all the major ports on th’ coast ta make some coin an’ experience what they have t’offer. The chap at the Tuckered Kraken recommended I offer my services ta yer family, I’m a fisherman ya see.”
 
Defallion Manor:

Kecei stared at Banrigg for a moment before looking down at the shrub, "Froot, I think you should go help Dad in the Garden." At her words the shrub merely walked past Banrigg and around to the side of the building, disappearing into the greenery. Opening the door more, she gestured inside, allowing him to see the various plants set around the house, some hanging from the ceiling, others on planters along the walls. "Uhm. I don't really know the business just yet, so really for any hiring, it'll have to go through my brother Richeye. I think he's awake by now ...? They got back kind of late."

Leading Banrigg to a small seating area, she disappeared for a moment only to return shortly with an older man who was obviously related to her, but still had circles under his eyes like one attempting to catch sleep but failing. Hiding a yawn behind his hand he gave a faint bow, "Greetings -- Kecei said you're ... Banrigg? I'm Lord Richeye Defallion, I formally welcome you to the Manor." Rich scratched his head as he looked over Banrigg, eyes catching on the weapons he carried, "You say you're a fisherman, but you're quite heavily armed, if I'm honest."
 
Tyrius kept his eyes on The Knight as The Knight turned to face Anthol, relating his business. Tyrius watched the small object being slid across the table to Anthol and thought nothing of it until The Knight continued speaking.

'And we tried to keep it to ourselves,' Tyrius thought, trying to find something else to look at before his cheeks matched his hair. From the description, it sounded like The Knight knew of Lestone and had business with him. 'Another ally would be useful,' the sorcerer thought to himself.

Looking to Tristan, Tyrius was a bit dazzled by the man's golden armor. "So, are you two working together, or did you happen to stumble across each other?" he asked, trying to work out what to make of the newcomers and giving Anthol and Ander chance to decide how to answer The Knight before Tyrius gave the game away with his blushing.
 
Eliza shook her head disappointed, "You misunderstood me, I am not looking to borrow anything from anyone. I just thought maybe you would have any ideas on how someone could earn some coin whilst on the road seeing as how you were able to survive this long alone."

The half-orc got to her feet with some difficulty, "Eliza is already short for Elizabeth, I don't care to see it shortened further." With a last sigh she turned and headed outside the room.
 
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Virra jumped up. "Hey, who says I don't have any ideas --" she began. But Eliza was already gone. Virra stared after her for a moment, then glanced around to make sure no servants had witnessed anything. No, she was alone in the corridor. She felt an odd urge to break a window, but it passed quickly.

After an appropriate amount of time had gone by since Eliza left, she went to her room and prepared her things for the journey; shortbow, leathers, cobbler's tools. When all of it was either in her backpack or being worn on her person, she headed back downstairs and to the dining room, wondering if her expression gave away the spat she'd just been in. Probably; she never was any good at hiding how she felt.

"I'm back," she declared as she pushed the dining room door open. "Stuff's all packed. Are we ready to --" Greeted by the sight of a man in full armour and another in gold vestments, she broke off. Visitors? The atmosphere in the room was difficult to read. Curious now, Virra found herself smiling. "Well, good morning. Hope I didn't interrupt anything," she said, moving back to her chair but not sitting down. She was busy scrutinising the faces (or visors) of the guests.
 
Ander doesn't know what he should say. He doesn't want to overstep and spill things that were meant to be kept between those of us who had seen Lestone, but this odd knight seemed to know more than most, including most who had seen the creature at the funeral.

He stood and walked over to the men. "I am Ander, champion of the Morning Lord," he scowled slightly as he recalled his distain for titles. He turned to the helmed figure, placing his hand on his shoulder. "We've had our fair share of encounters with this being you speak of. The stench of undeath and the depths of the sea given shape and wielded like a weapon against children." He turns to look at Robern, still concerned for the sickly child. He locked eyes with the man in the helmet. "I sure hope we're lookin' ta stop the same thing, friend."
 
"I just ran into this fine fellow at your gates, actually," Tristan answers jovially. "Can't say I know anything about this man in the mist or the brawl on the beach" he continues, his voice flattening as he focuses his attention on the increasingly red Tyrius.

He starts slightly as Virra enters the room, shifting his attention to her instead. "Good morning to you, ma'am. I am Tristan, a cleric of Waukeen called here from Emberhallow. Myself and this man here were just making everyone's acquaintance."
 
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The knight was a little surprised by the sudden appearance of the gnome entering the room. “Hey there, darlin’. No interruption at all, we were just talkin’ business.” Looking over to Ander, his eyes widened slightly beneath his helmet as he approached, and he quickly stepped backwards to avoid the large man’s touch. “Sorry ‘bout that, Ander, but fer yer own good it’d be best ta avoid touchin’ me. It’s a long story, and won’t affect my ability ta fight fer what’s right.” He took another step back and recomposed himself. “Anyways, back ta yer undead menace. I’m ‘fraid that I can’t recall much about our mystery man myself, but there’s some sorta... connection between us. Unfinished business by my best reckonin’. All I know is that I gotta put this spirit ta bed, and sounds like yer all my best shot of gettin’ the job done.”
 
Banrigg watches as Froot leaves, a slight smile still on his face before following Kecei into the manor. He was sure to wipe his feet clean at the entrance to not track mud, and he admired the flora around the house as he waited for Richeye. Once the man entered, Banrigg stood up straight and bowed deeply, the tips of his white beard nearly hitting the floor as he did so. “Greetings m’Lord, I apologize if I interrupted yer rest. I simply came inquirin’ fer a job.” At the mention of his arms, Banrigg chuckled and nodded. “Aye, I am heavily armed. I’ve travelled a long way by meself, all th’ way from Ravenmond actually. Takin’ to the road by yerself is mighty dangerous, so I’ve learned ta protect meself over th’ years.” Realizing it may have been rude to come into a new home so well armed, the dwarf quickly added, “Oh, m’apologies m’lord, I shoulda left this all by the door on my way in. Would it make ye more comfortable if I left my belongings there?”
 
Defallion Manor:

Rich put a hand on his chin as he thought for a moment, "... no. If anything I think it may have improved your chance of being hired. Speaking honestly, our lands and ships often get attacked by those who expect fishermen and farmers to be easy targets. We've tried training them in basic weapons, but more often than not, their courage fails them and it's all for naught."

He rubbed his eyes, "I will not force you, but if you're to work for the Defallions, would you be potentially willing to fight for us? I may have something for you already."

De'Porthca Manor | Dining Room:

At the end of the Knight's words, Ben abruptly stood to his feet, a dark look on his face as he turned to look at the Knight, "What are you? Another plaything of the Sea's, sent to torment us even more? A connection you say, an inside man I hear." His knuckles were white from his fists being clenched so tightly, while Sidwae's gaze didn't waver off the Knight.

Joane and Robern both jumped at Ben's sudden outburst while Anthol gave his son a bit of a glare. "Ben, not everyone is an enemy -- this man likely knows far more than we do. From what I understand, your own research didn't come up with much." Grumbling under his breath Ben reseated himself, but his fists did not relax.

Looking at the brooch, Ben flipped over his collar, "Either way, I'm curious how you got that, considering I still have mine, and I have Cyne's. Makes me think you're just a messenger for the Sea, here to taunt us again with some other trinket."

Sidwae cleared her throat, causing both Anthol and Ben to look her direction. "For one reason or another, this ... person has come to us in an offer of aid." Her gaze fixed itself on Benito, "It would do well for you to learn not to spurn help merely because of where it comes from. Perhaps you should learn a phrase the De'Porthcas used to live by: 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. It appears to me this ... Knight is not on the best of terms with the Sea, given they appear more connected with Lestone, and from what has been mentioned already, Lestone is likely not an ally to the Sea willingly." Adjusting the silverware in front of her, Sidwae paused briefly before continuing. "Now. If I may, 'Salted Knight', I wish to see what rests under your helmet for I often find the best way to learn someone's character is to see their eyes."
 
The Salted Knight stared Ben down during his accusations, not even slightly fazed by his anger or claims, although his right hand clenched slightly. However, at Sidwae's request, the knight paused for a long moment, considering it. Finally, with a shrug, he responded. "Alright." He reached up and removed the helmet to reveal his face, a desiccated, worn face with a thin layer of white salt covering pale skin. The only feature untarnished by the effect were his warm brown eyes, which stared intently at Sidwae. "Pardon me fer sayin' it, ma'am, but I believe yer boy could use a lesson in manners. Given the circumstances though, I'm obliged ta forget his blunt manner 'f speakin'. Now, I know I may not be givin' ya a whole lotta answers, although frankly speakin' I don't have many ta offer, and my appearance is a little... unorthodox, but I promise you, Lady de'Porthca, I have no motives here other than to help." His tone changed slightly towards the end and seemed to grow more serious. He looked down at the helmet in his hands. "I have my own reasons fer hiding' my face behind this helmet, and if ya really want me ta explain it to ya, that's a separate conversation. I'm here now, I'm offerin' my assistance, take it or leave it. If this enemy's as dangerous as they sound, though, yer sure as heck gonna need it."
 
Staring at the condition of the knight's skin, Tyrius couldn't help wondering what had caused it. 'Maybe a magical mishap, maybe someone cursed him. It's a mystery, as if we didn't have enough of those to be going on with.' Barely listening to what Anthol and Sidwae said, Tyrius got enough to make out they were chiding Ben who'd blown up again. 'Though I expect I'd lose it if something happened to my family,' the sorcerer thought to himself.

"At the risk of speaking out of turn," Tyrius said, "I think it'd be a good idea if we took up these new friends on their offer of assistance." Tyrius glanced to Ander, "I'm guessing you feel the same? We should probably find out what Virra and Eliza think."

'And maybe Virra can do her mind tricks and find out from the Knight how he came by that appearance?' Tyrius added in his own mind.
 
Banrigg smiled in surprise; this was the easiest job interview he ever had. "Aye, I would most certainly be willing ta use mah weapon fer yer family if tha's where ya need me. And my first job so soon? Tha's magic ta hear, sir, I can start right away." Banrigg held out his arm in an offer to seal the deal.
 
Virra had made herself scarce for a brief moment, acknowledging the two newcomers' greetings with a smile and a wave before letting things proceed by themselves. Her only really contributions were an obvious eye-roll as Ben went into accusation mode again, and a loud gasp when the man in armour -- 'Salted Knight'? -- removed his helmet. "Oh, wow."

Ignoring Tyrius altogether, she ran around to the other side of the table to get a closer look at the layer of salt coating the man's dry face. "How long have you been like this? Does it keep coming back when you scrape it off, or does it not come off at all? Hey, is it safe to..." She raised her hand a little way towards the Knight's face, though she didn't have the height to actually reach him.
 
Tapping her left foot impatiently, Eliza huffed "What's taking the others so long?" A lump in her pocket began shivering and sighing she snapped a finger whilst muttering an incantation warming the pocket for a few seconds. Sighing again, now very much annoyed, she headed back up the threshold stairs and back inside towards the dining room.

The sight of the visitors and the tail end of the conversation made her to stop and stare at Vira and the strange warrior standing in front of her. The half-orc tried to slink back the hallway but not before quickly focusing on Tyrius and casting message, "Who are these strangers? Do the pose any danger?". Deciding not to risk it, she tapped her chest and cast mage armor when she felt she was out of sight again.
 
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Defallion Manor:

Hiding a small yawn Rich smiled, reaching out for Banrigg's hand, "Sounds like a done deal. We can iron out the contract as we travel, since your first job will be actually helping out another family on our behalf."

Turning slightly Rich whistled into the manor sharply, a servant appearing a few seconds later, bowed. "Please prepare the smaller carriage for us -- we're going to be headed to the De'Porthca Manor. Hopefully they've not set off just yet..."

Returning after hearing the whistle, Kecei spoke up, "Oh, you're going there? I think they'll appreciate the potions me and dad managed to make yesterday. Never had the chance to hand them off..."

Nodding Rich replied, "I doubt they'll turn them away, might as well go grab them." Turning back to Banrigg he continued, "While we're waiting on that, what sort of wages or amenities were you looking for? What, more specifically, can you offer when it comes to protection?"

De'Porthca Manor:

Ben muttered under his breath again while Robern, Anthol, and Joane each studied the Knight. Sidwae faintly smiled before it faded, "Yes, Benito could use a lesson in many things." Bringing herself to her feet, Madame De'Porthca moved towards the Knight and studied his features for a moment in silence. Eventually she spoke again, "I will expect that conversation at some point." Turning she faced Tristan, "Unfortunately you seem to have become a touch ignored in this conversation." Sidwae's eyes locked onto Anthol with a meaningful look, who coughed.

"Right, my apologies." Anthol clapped his hands together, "Unfortunately as you see, we're a bit ... preoccupied with other things around here. However, were you to potentially aid these folks in their endeavor, it would go a long way to helping both of us. Clearing some trade routes for businesses here, and very easily proving your value and sincerity to the merchants here within Porthca. If I may say so, our word carries quite a bit of weight around here."
 
The knight looked over to Tyrius in surprise, not having expected to be accepted so quickly by anyone here. He smiled strangely to the nobleman. "'Friend' so soon is a mite bit presumptuous in my old opinion, but I 'ppreciate that, pardner." He was then further surprised by Virra as she made her sudden approach with a barrage of questions. He chuckled. "Well, aren't you just full of questions, lil' lady? I'm 'fraid I can't answer yer first question. As fer the salt, it forms on me like sweat throughout the day." He wiped at his face with a greaved hand and flakes of salt fell away, falling to the floor. "Haven't had too much opportunity to brush myself up today. And while the salt itself ain't dangerous, you'll be gettin' a heck 'f a lot more than ya bargained fer if ya try ta touch my face. That's why I didn't want yer friend Ander gettin' too close ta me earlier." The knight merely nodded in response to Sidwae, although it was a conversation he was not looking forward to having. Relieved that Sidwae's questioning had come to an end the knight donned his helmet once more.
 
"Well if I'm bein' honest, I never worked protection before, I've been able ta get by usin' my fishing skills fer the most part. But I'm good at followin' orders, and wield this maul pretty well. Also, I'ma hearty dwarf, as I'm sure ya noticed, but I'm also mighty nimble." Banrigg paused for a moment, before speaking a bit slower, choosing his words more carefully. "As for wages and 'menities...I have ta be honest, mah path leads me further north, and I won' be 'round here forever. I need ta make enough ta embark on this trip withou' worry of gold, so I will let ye decide what wages are fair with this new information." Banrigg looked the man right in the eyes as he spoke, doing the best to show his earnest and honest intent.
 
Tristan blinks at the Salted Knight, caught off guard by what lies beneath the helmet. His attention is captivated by the supernatural visage for most of the conversation, until Sidwae and Anthol drag his attention away.

"Right, he nods, shaking his head a bit as if to break a stupor. "I have some experience as a priest of fortune, and I would be delighted to offer my assistance in dealing with whatever problems may arise. "
 
Feeling a strange tingle in his head, Tyrius wondered if Virra was doing her mind communication trick again. Until he heard Eliza's voice in his head asking about the newcomers. "I think they're allies." Tyrius thought, hoping Eliza would get the message, "The one in the golden armor is Tristan, a cleric of Waukeen. The other calls himself The Salted Knight and sounds like he had a run in with Lestone."

Listening to Tristan speak up, Tyrius smiled. 'The more the merrier, I say.'
 
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