"Aye, that would be making sense, though it's not too much difference between them, depending on the weather.  Greenstalk is the first, Jeweled is about another half-day away, and Sanding is between them, but it's trickier to get into.

"Greenstalk's got a little bit of a haunted air, so you stay in Rooton, the main port, unless you're a native.  Gets heavy fogs, and sometimes the port fogs in.  You hear whispers in the fog, and the natives tell you not to listen to them.  When the fog comes in, you pack the taverns and sing so you can't hear the whispers.  Otherwise they say you'll follow them up into the mountains and off a cliff or straight off the dock.  Tarnished Bell's got the best ale you've ever wet your throat with, but the Wet Rocks have 'em cheaper and got a better bard.  Hmm... seen some folk who're like wood, skin like wood, or like tree-folk, out on the edges of town near the lumber yards. Someone said they help with harvest, but most of the crafter-folk I dealt with were half-elves.

"Jeweled Island's got lots of trees, but it's not got as many mountains as Greenstalk.  Lots of birds, lots of flowers, and it warmer 'cause of the fire-mountain in the middle.  I mean, not much of a mountain, kinda more of a big hill, but it's got hot earth blood that pours out of it and into the sea. Lots of fire folk, earth folk, and magma folk on the island, and they give the fire mountain wreaths of flowers every day or they say the earth blood will geyser up and explode.  Main port is Emerald Harbor, and it's green as its name, from plants and paint both. They got birds on every corner and doorway, and some of them talk like people!  They weave stuff out of the vines and feathers into these cloaks and capes that're prettier than you can believe and worth a lord's ransom, that's for certain. Best ale's at the Caldera, but best drinking songs are at the Golden Canary."

"Sandring Island saved the Sea Lady, once, when we got hit by a rogue wave during a storm and snapped the mast.  Two of their little ketches came out and towed us back to their harbor in Trickster's Bay, then helped me strap the mask as pretty as you please. Even has a spellster to weave the wood back together. I went there for repairs or overhauling every time I could; cheaper than the gougers in the port cities, and they take payment in trade and trade goods without turning up their noses. Got some water folk, some halflings, some half-orcs, odd sort of place. Everything made from odds and ends, bits of shipwrecks and foundling stuff. One of the master crafters told me everyone that lives on the island once washed up here and decided to stay. They can do a lot with a little. Worship a lot of small gods there, they do. Remember one, Juvarn, god of this meadow of sea grass.  Soft as a mattress it was, and a better place to sleep off a hangover I never had. Best ale I had there was at the Clamshell, but for best games of chance the Rusty Chain was the most fun."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:15, Wed 06 May 2020.

Farian's ears perk up at the mention of the haunted island. "Has it always been haunted?" she asks. "Restless spirits are not known to be obedient to the living, so even though the mists and voices would discourage the curious, I do not think that smugglers would hide there if it is long haunted. A more recent occurrence may prove to be no more than a trick or deceit of some misguided wizard, though."

Bruenor nodded his sincere thanks to Mad Morrie, then looked at his now very attractive cleric friend.
"Unless, Farian, the smugglers figured that a good 'haunting' would discourage searchers and the curious Adventurer.  In which case it might be the ideal place to store something."

"There are other creatures that could be the cause of the voices," Narthian offers. "And might be open to a mutually beneficial alliance. Harpies come to mind, given the legends of leading people to their doom. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's solve one mystery at a time. The story that tweaks my interest are these tree-people of Greenstalk. You can take the timber wolf out of the forest, as the saying goes."

Dellas after making sure Honeybee was comfortable ran about the ship, trying to watch each person work and generally getting in the way. He was excited to be on the boat, which seemed great as they set off, but time went on he was not used to the rocking of the ship and caused him to lose his lunch. Which he promptly tried to remedy by finding more food... that too did not end well. After a couple hours he was finally able to hold down food, lamenting the loss of food.

"Maybe let's leave the haunted island until last? Deal with some flesh and blood people?" Volsh chimed in.

"But whatever everyone wants to do. Me'n Widowmaker'll go with the group."

Lantamori had to think a moment to recall whom Volsh was speaking of.  Widowmaker?  When did he start referring to his spear as if it were a mouse in his pocket?  She had to wonder if this were some side effect of his lycanthropy and what other, perhaps darker, changes were waiting in the shadows to be discovered.

"Wherever we start," the elf pointed out indifferently, "we should ask the harbormaster where we could get a glass of wine from Belorn's Brewing Company.

"Identifying those that deal with the casks would be a good starting point."

It was unlikely they'd stumble over anyone wearing some of the stolen goods, but she did spend some time going over the list in case they did.  It would certainly make the investigation easier if they spotted one of the stolen items.

Haazheel has figured out that the freshest place to be is astern.

Knowing the shadows were hunting for him, Dante didn't much like the sound of Greenstalk, but on the other hand, it might take the shadows a bit to follow them at sea. "Greenstalk sounds like the least pleasant of them. Let's start there and get it out of the way."

Mad Morrie considers the question for a moment as he stirs the soup.  "Well, that rumor's been around as long as I can recall. Now, I don't recall meeting too many people who knew someone who'd been called into the sea directly, but usually someone knew a friend of a friend."  He shrugs.  "Could be it's just the ale-tales y'tell around the fire on a misty night, writ large by a bunch of old tars who've seen too much. Or it might just be that the islanders don't want to give too much truth to those just passing through."

The destination sorted to start at Greenstalk Island, Mad Morrie passed up the information to Hubert.  The group could rest on bunks or hammocks as their interests and stomachs could stand, taking watch throughout the night as if they were the road.  Those on second watch see a faint flash in the darkened sea, a flowing current of glowing green darting shapes.

"Moonfish" whispers an unfamiliar voice, and they can turn to see the figurehead of the Sea Lady turn to point at the shapes.  "They carry the moon's light to the depths of the sea, so that the sea folk who never leave their kingdoms can see it."

No storms or pirates or sea monsters bother the Sea Lady that night, and by mid-morning the green mountains and misty shores of Greenstalk Island are in view.  Another hour's maneuvering brings the Sea Lady to Rooton, the main harbor and port town.  Quite small compared to Port Lyalee or even Redhaven, the buildings are made of half-stone and half beautifully laid and carved wood, often laced with vines or moss to give the city a very green feel.

The Harbor Master is a middle-aged half-elf man with very neat silver-blond hair tied back in a precise tail. He bears a small jeweled hand axe at his belt, and garbed in neatly-made homespun tunic and trews, impeccably tailored.  He's accompanied by two younger half-elves in sturdy canvas shirts and trousers, their builds suggesting they are no stranger to hard labor.  Both have short hardwood batons, polished with much use, at their belts.

"Captain, your purpose and cargo at Rooton?" he asks without preamble.  The Harbor Master addresses Mad Morrie, who ducks his head and shuffles his feet, redirecting the question to Hubert.

"Spices, your excellency, which I will convey to the customs house forthwith.  And my passengers will speak for themselves," the turtle says with a nod of his head.  The Harbor Master stares at Hubert, back at Morrie (who nods), over to Hubert again, and finally switches his view to the Leafblade Company, awaiting their answer.

Volsh knew better than to open his big mouth and try to say anything to a government or business official, so he looked at Farian or one of the others with a more well oiled tongue in the group than him to reply to the man.

Haazheel, mounted on Feather, replies We call ourselves the Leafblade Company, equals all, Good Harbor Master, formed not so long ago. We wished to experience sea travel and are here  to discover any business opportunities to suit our collective and individual talents. Myself, I am Haazheel Thorn, a Diviner of some competence. Besides earning a living, I desire to further my studies. This stout fellow (indicating Volsh) has seen that I've come to no harm.

Dellas had a disappointed look on his face as they had made dock. He was holding the reins of Honeybee as he lead her up the walk way towards the dock. He stopped one last time to check the packs and chests were securely attached. "I'm disappointed" he called out, "no pirates. I wanted to see Pirates. Instead I saw my lunch. Twice..."

"Where can I find the best wine?" Lantamori asked bluntly.  She was wearing her city dress and jewelry.

Bruenor nodded in agreement to his Traveling Companions, especially about the wine

Farian follows Haazheel's lead, quietly sizing up the harbor master as she gets used to the feel of phantom waves from the firm dock.

Sense Motive: 07:41, Today: Farian Raymellie rolled 19 using 1d20+5 ((14)).

Trying to get a feel for the master's trustworthiness, is he being dutifully protective, or perhaps a "lookout" for smuggling? Both?

Although Dante had heard about the living figurehead of the ship, it was still a bit surprising to actually hear her speaking. He found her words of interest, though, and spent some time watching the green-glowing creatures in the water.

If the folk under the waves did not come to the surface, what interest did they have in the moon's light? And if there were moonfish, were there sunfish as well, taking the sun's light down into the depths? Did Ehlonna and Pelor have followers below, drawing strength from such fish?

In the morning, well rested from a good night's sleep -- rocking in a hammock made the ship's motion surprisingly soothing -- he watched the first island rise on the horizon. It didn't look haunted; in fact, it looked rather inviting.

The natives, not so much. He nodded at Lantamori's inquiry, adding, "And maybe a good lunch to go with it." It'd be a good excuse to sit and listen for a bit.

"Very well, Diviner Thorn.  While our little island is too small to have an Adventurers' Guildhall, the Wanderfoot Inn's proprietor is a former adventurer who keeps a small board of odd jobs of that sort," he says with a nod.



The Harbor Master's lips twitch a tiny amount, but he does not crack a smile as he answers, "I'm afraid there have been no pirates here in a generation or more.  Rooton has the only harbor on the island, and any miscreants would find cold comfort here."



The Harbor Master sees Lantamori's fine clothing and jewelry, but does a small double-take at her abrupt question.  Nevertheless, he draws himself up to answer.  "The Jade Rose Inn m'lady.  The proprietor keeps an excellent cellar of both local and imported vintages, and her cook is second to none."

The Harbor Master takes a few moments to gather the docking fees from Captain Hubert, and then claps for his companions to come with a cart to assist Mad Morrie in bringing the Sea Lady's wares ashore to be assessed and sold.

Nartian listens to the conversation from the deck of the ship. He commands Thunder to Defend the ship and lets the others know that he's going to take a look around the island. "I'll meet you at the Jade Rose for dinner," he says. He then transforms into an Albatross (small animal), casts Longstrider, and soars high into the air. He makes as big a circuit around the port as he can and still return by dinner.

From my little bit of research, there appears to be nothing special about albatross eyesight, which is OK. My main purpose is to get a lay of the land, see big things like hidden coves, poorly hidden camps, and the like. I picked the albatross for their low energy, long range soaring ability (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/...orphology_and_flight). I'll fly at altitude, 300-1000 feet, to keep out of trouble. Should I face airborne danger, the escape plan is to dive, transform into a much faster bird of the small size (peregrin falcon? sea eagle?), and flee at top (magic boosted) speed. Which brings up an interesting question, does having the Run feat translate into animal form?

*Edited: Longstrider only works for ground pounders. *sigh*
This message was last edited by the player at 17:22, Tue 12 May 2020.

Haazheel replies Thank you for the information. It seems to me, judging from you and your assistants, that the harbor is in good hands. Should we happen to meet any of you off duty, I'[d be pleased to stand you a drink in return for the pleasure of your conversation.

To the Jade Rose Inn before the Wanderfoot? Then we'll decide where to take rooms.

Lantamori proceeded to the Jade Rose for a drink.  The island didn't sound big enough to need Cloud.  Perhaps they'd go for a ride in the morning.

Volsh walked over to Thunder and gave the wolf's head a nice rubbing before Narthian departed. "I could take him with me too Narthian. Thunder and I understand each other." he said and looked down at the wolf, "don't we Thunder? You and I can walk the town and meet boring Narthian for dinner."

"May Pelor's Light shine upon you and yours," Farian says to the harbor master as she passes, following Lantamori. As they move into the city, she watches for any people or homes displaying Pelor's symbols. After all, she is less likely to tip off their mission if she talks only to people of The Faith. She leaves other methods of information gathering to the more roguish members of the Leafblade Company.

Dante took note of the harbormaster's directions, and with Prreet on his shoulders, headed into the town. It was reassuring to feel good, stable earth beneath his boots again.

Looking around as he moved closer to the buildings, he looked around to see if there were any shops of interest nearby, places distinctly different from what he'd seen in Port Lyalee... and for signs that the town wasn't as strictly legal as the harbormaster had tried so hard to imply. If nothing caught his attention, he'd drift after Farian and Lantamori, and see what else lay in the direction of the Jade Rose.

He kept an eye out for beggars, too. After his last meeting with some, he wasn't really certain if he wanted to risk another conversation. Given the officious half-elf minding the docks, however, he was curious to discover if such... imperfections... were allowed to marr the nearby streets. Or else, how close they dared to be.


15:34, Today: Averdante rolled 28 using 1d20+14 ((14)). Looking for any thieves' symbols marked on buildings, or shifty-looking loiterers....