The deep-water harbor sometimes referred to as Tideswallow Bay is a stately body of water almost 4 miles in diameter, surrounded on nearly all sides by land. On the only one exposed to the open ocean beyond is blocked off in its majority by the thorny spires of an ancient reef which has grown straight up and out of the water at the harbor’s mouth. There is space on either side of this obstacle for ships to pass, but the rougher waters outside of Tideswallow’s principality are forever blocked from entering. This has resulted in the bay maintaining a calm, glassy appearance throughout the entire year; even while storms ravage the waves outside its domain.

The harbor is one of the only deep-water ports in the region; with Port Darrowmere far to the north being the only other one of such size on this entire side of the continent. As such, there is a fairly constant flow of shipping coming through the harbor at all times of the year. Trade and transport both play a vital role in the survival of the Waterfront, as the fishing industry that once fueled Tideswallow has now taken a backseat to the economic wonders of mercantilism and tourism.

Stretching down almost 300 meters in some places, the harbor is immensely deep and relatively unexplored. There is little in the way of beachfront, as the harbor itself appears to be some manner of crater; with even the portions closest to the shoreline being a shear drop down steep underwater embankments. Various ledges and planes exist on the way down to the tenebrous depths of the harbor floor, and numerous caves bore into the walls on the way down. Many of these remain completely unmapped and their inhabitants wholly unknown. As such, it is generally considered a... poor idea to go diving in the harbor without very, VERY good reason.


This message was last edited by the GM at 05:50, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

In a small stone chamber deep below the surface, a dimly-lit portal phases into existence. Water begins to drain into it at an alarming rate; filling the room on the other side of it.

There is no light in the little cavern, save for that coming through the portal itself. Once it closes, the runes carved into the cave floor will once more go dormant and the chamber will be still, silent, and dark once again. Left to sit untouched by the outside world for who knows how many decades this time around.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:28, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus used what little light there was from the runes and portal to take in his surroundings. Swimming upward, it seemed a ceiling was overhead, so he cast his gaze, his eyes stinging from the salt, around the chamber looking for a door.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 3):

The chamber is a small cave carved from the rough gray stone. It is about 3/4ths filled with water, but there is a pocket of air directly above you which you can tread water in. The domed roof overhead is about 6ft wide and extends up 4ft above the water trapped within the cavern; leaving plenty of breathable air. The mouth of this little cave is a gaping maw overlooking a dark abyss outside. You’re not sure exactly where you are, but there is a LOT of open water just beyond the entrance to your chamber. A series of dimly-glowing runes are carved into the stone at the base of the chamber, about 5ft in from the cave mouth. Above them, the portal you came through is quickly closing.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:11, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

“Ailuros, come!” said Bartimaeus as he treaded water. His cat appeared swimming next to him, rather put out.

“Calm! Calm.” he said.


Bartimaeus focused his mind and Ailuros disappeared. Submerging his head momentarily to use the last light of the runes to see the cave mouth, he focused again, and the struggling form of Ailuros appeared, and struggled to swim up.

Bartimaeus rose again to the air pocket and closed his eyes, seeing through his familiar’s. He kept a count in the back of his mind — 40 seconds: ~~ she should be able to hold her breath that long. Let’s hope we’re not so far from the surface... ~~

Now what can I see, Devil's sight 120' vision in any darkness to include magical as he looks around. Any chance can see some glint of light source shining down through the water from the surface to give possible idea on depth below the surface.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 6):

Emerging into the little cavern, you find there is precious little to actual see around you. As the portal closes behind you and the runes return to their inert state, all light ceases to exist within the chamber... making it far more obvious just where the little bit of light pouring down from above is outside the cave.

The darkness is thick, but rays of sunlight still pierce the exterior of the cavern; descending in a curtain of pale-blue beams from high above. However deep you are, it is certainly intimidating but not so hopelessly far down that it drowns out the light entirely. With any luck, a good swimmer could make it back to the surface on one very, VERY deep breath.

...assuming nothing obstructs their ascent, of course...

After counting 40 seconds Bartimaeus recalled his familiar into her demiplane, then summoned her again to him in the air bubble.


The light from the portal and runes had just faded, and he thought he'd seen someone emerge at the last moment.


He motioned, but the light was almost completely gone, only what little light filtered through the cavern's mouth from the surface above.

Vesryn, makes his way to the air pocket where his companion was waiting. "We aren't to deep underwater, in your bubble we can make it for sure. I can see the surface, just not if the way is clear or not.  I can lead the way when you are ready."

"After you." replied Bartimaeus.

Just before diving down to follow Vesryn, he cast Invisibility on himself, took several deep breaths, held the last, and dove down to the exit hoping to rise to the light.

Vesryn takes a few moments to maximize the air in his system by taking several long breaths of air. Once he was confident that he was as good as he was going to get he dove down and swam for the surface  leading his companions to it with his better eyesight.

Swimming out into the open waters, you find that you are suspended over a black abyss where light ceases to penetrate. You are both just barely able to make out a few moldering ship masts and the tatters of ragged sails obstructing the otherwise empty blackness far below you. Yet even these area  considerable distance down; little more than vague silhouettes in the distance. Behind you, a seemingly endless slope of steep, craggy rock descends into the depths. The cave is just one tiny pockmark in the immense face of this stony palisade; which extends up ward at a 70° angle until it reaches the surface.

Following the wall’s path upward, you see the stone ascending into a realm of light, dappled only by the foam of soft waves churning its surface. A few small fishing vessels are visible further out; their hulls a deep, dark brown against the crystalline light overhead.

The swim upward will be a treacherous one. The descent to the bottom, on the other hand, you have no idea how long it would take. The tightening in your chest could be your breath being depleted or fear taking hold as you consider sinking endlessly downward to join the lost ships below...

Both of you make a Wisdom Saving Throw for me as you attempt to shake off the sudden uncertainty that comes with finding yourself free-floating over the black expanse below.

02:25, Today: Vesryn rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  wis save.

07:19, Today: Bartimaeus rolled [12] ((10,2)) using 1d20+4,d4.  Wis save + Guidance.

Also: while reviewing spells I noticed Guidance was a concentration spell; I can't have two active at the same time. So while some of what we rolled in the room might have been ok since it was taking a period of time, it's not necessarily going to be legit going forward.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 14):

The depths hold their mysteries, but those hold no interest for Vesryn. At least not at the moment. With Milthrix in tow, you make a hurried dash to the surface. After a suffocating, lung-burning swim almost straight upwards, you finally break through the water and emerge in the midst of a calm, clear morning out on the harbor. Yup are about 100meters from sure and can easily swim back now that you’re not concerned with what lies below you.

Bartimaeus, on the other hand, finds it difficult to pull away from what he is seeing. Something about the broken and decaying masts piercing the veil of darkness deep, deep below calls out. A memory? A revelation? A distant, long-forgotten dream? You are uncertain what it is that holds your attention so long. There’s a chance it could possibly even be fear, though you quickly put such thoughts out of your mind and do your best to bury them away... but by the time you finally do, your lungs are already growing weary. You look up. Still so far to go. You haven’t moved. It would be so much easier just to sink and settle amongst the mysteries of the deep... then you find yourself swimming in spite of these intrusive thoughts. You can see where Vesryn emerged and can aim for a spot nearby; but its not a graceful ascent. You run out of air and begin choking down sea water before the surface is within your reach. It is only through sheer force of will that you keep yourself going. Climbing. Cutting through the water to reach the salvation and sunlight high above.

Upon emerging and violently coughing up an obscene amount of saltwater, you are free of the harbor’s grip and can make your way back to the shore. The Waterfront District has several large stone staircases leading into/out of the water, which you can swim to and climb out back onto the relative dryness of the weathered wooden wharf.

Bartimaeus now has 1 point of Exhaustion from the effort needed to make it the rest of the way without drowning.

Somehow it legitimately never occurred to me that Guidance was concentration.... I’ve been overlooking that one for years now, apparently.

Bartimaeus, visible again, climbed back onto the dock he'd disembarked onto what felt like months ago, coughing and utterly drained, but with a frantic look in his eyes...

"Vesryn, I need a warm fire... my pages... my books! RUINED!" And he hustled with visible difficulty up the wharf towards the nearest tavern: The Salty Seaman.

---

OOC:
Exhaustion 1pt

I'll be looking for a room with a fireplace or, failing that, a common room with a wide hearth.

We Long Rested not too long ago, so Vesryn I think I'll be holing up for ~24 hours. I'm reliant on my skills so disadvantage on Ability checks is incredibly damaging for me. However: the notes from the researcher said the Paladin would be in the sewers nearby; I reckon that will be my next destination after I recover.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 16):
You leave the soggy desolation of the docks and move into the Waterfront District proper. The Seaman is the first tavern you find and seems as good a fit as any at this point.

Judging from your own previous study of the papers you found, you’d wager the various notes concerning the paladin, the triplets, scorpions, and various other oddities stuffed into the notebook were not written by the corpse you found in the chest. Instead, they were added to that person’s notebook. Documents they had discovered and collected; but it was difficult to judge the age of such pieces.

In your despair over the loss of your precious knowledge, you half-heartedly turn to your own book to examine the extent of the damage.... only to find everything on you perfectly dry. After being out of the harbor for exactly five minutes, everything on your person has dried and returned to its original form. Waterlogged and smudged notes are legible once more. The soggy papers in your pockets are in perfect condition (or at least as perfect as when you found them). The only thing that appears to be amiss is the leather binding that you had found in the first room. It is nowhere to be found now.

The initial relief of it all is offset only by the shuddering, shaking cough you now feel rattling through you. You need some rest...

It's wet.

Which is a foolish thing to say when one is pulled out of the ocean by fishing net - of course you get wet, that's how the ocean works.

Why she was in the ocean was a better question, with an equally obvious answer. The ship she was on had broken apart on Fiendfall Reef and all hands had been lost, as was explained to her. She of course, remembered little, except the sinking, the breaking, and then drowning.

It was a bit of a blur after that.

The crew of the fishing ship that had snagged her in their nets had given her a wide berth, undecided if she was lucky enough to keep on the crew or an ill omen. In either case, it was clear to her (Who was she? Why was that unknown to her?) that she was to leave the ship as soon as they arrived in Tideswallow Harbor. If she overstayed her welcome, the captain would not be responsible for the crew or their superstitions. She did not need it further explained.

Even before the ship had properly docked the strange half-elf had stepped off the deck onto the wharf and lost herself in the crowd, looking for...well, she isn't sure yet.

In reply to Mezzaline Thessaly (msg # 18):

As you step from the ship, a sailor looking out off the rigging suddenly realize you are departing and calls after you. There’s a surprised, almost desperate urgency to his words as they reach your ears, nearly drowned out by the din of the crowd you’ve melding in with.

“Miss! Miss! You dropped your, uh... your locket? Your... this! You dropped this!”
He goes to the rail just beside the pier and holds out a brass chain with a weighty-looking octagonal pendant or locket latched onto its length. The individuals moving passed make no move to snatch it from him, but a few give both him and you a curious look as they put two and two together as to who he is shouting to.

To the best of your knowledge, you don’t recall owning a locket or medallion or any other piece of jewelry like this. Still, he holds it out all the same.

Mezzaline hesitates - she's certain the locket isn't hers. She'd wager all she had left it wasn't, and yet...

She thought she had waited a moment too long as she turned back, her boots heavy with seawater and certainly not hesitation.

"Ah...thank-you." She says as she takes the locket, the metal trinket far heavier than it had any right to be - heavy like the depths, and her lungs burned briefly at the memory.


It vanished into a pocket and with a nod of thanks once again Mezzaline turned and walked quicker than before towards land. Whether it was memory or the locket she felt heavier and couldn't bear to be too close to the ocean until the heavy sensation passed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:29, Tue 22 Dec 2020.

In reply to Mezzaline Thessaly (msg # 20):

The crowd is dense, but not so much so that it is impossible to pass through. Seems the docks are a particularly popular place this time of day. Fishers, sailors, and dock workers of all manner warm through the wharf and the waterfront beyond. You see numerous buildings immediately ahead of you. Most look to be sheds, homes, and rickety shacks. A few, however, are clearly more permanent places of business.

Stalls where fishmongers sell their latest (you hope) catch. A few shacks with counters built in below their single harbor-facing window. These you take to be some manner of dining facility, as you see a few bystanders sitting at them enjoying a quick bite before heading back to their ships. There is a tavern at the far end of the district, where the streets divide off to other parts of town, its sign currently off the wall and collecting dirt on the ground nearby it. In its place, someone has painted the words “The Salty Seaman” on the blank space the sign once sat upon... it appears to have been crossed out and written over NUMEROUS times.

A few guards patrol the docks themselves and you spot at least one pair of Tenebrian soldiers making a route through the street between the docks themselves and the buildings you’ve been seeing. Their presence is odd here, considering this is, to the best of your knowledge, still a free port, but you suspect they’re likely just passing through; the same as any number of other strangers you pass here.

Beyond that first row of buildings, you can see the hints of taller structures peaking out over these simple wooden hovels that make up most  of the Waterfront District. The city beyond this section of town clearly becomes a much more extravagant, opulent sight to see. And with each step you take closer to it, a little more of that initial uncertainty the sea has left you with shrinks away.

---

From here, you can feel free to pursue basically anything you’re interested in doing. You’ve not committed any crimes in town that would bar you from entering other parts of the city, so you’re free to go anywhere but the Office District. Alternatively, there’s plenty in the Waterfront, so if there’s something in particular you are looking for you can roll an Investigation check for this district. Otherwise, if you’re seeking something beyond what’s immediately available here, you can try an Investigation check for another area of the city, attempt to get directions/info from someone nearby, or just go exploring as you see fit. It’s pretty much up to you to decide where/what you want to do.

Distracted as she is, years of living in and around docks gives Mezzaline a kind of sexth sense for weaving around people and produce. The locket - and its implications - heavy in her pocket. Perhaps it belonged to one of the other sailors lost in the wreckage, she'd have to find out - certainly news about what had happened must have reached the right people; all she had to do was find someone who could take the locket.

It felt heavy in her pocket. No, it was more that it felt heavy in her possession, like lead in her shoes. Which happened to be squelchy and made her stop abruptly in her tracks. Before she could do anything about the locket Mezzaline would have have to deal with the very obvious fact that she and everything she had was soaked and in some cases still dripping or leaking. It would be hard to deal to inquire about the wreck while looking mostly drowned herself.

Plans altered, Mezzaline shifted and began looking for a tavern or similar, making a face as she spies a sign advertising the Salty Seaman but still moving to its entrance anyway - as long as she could get a room and dry the name was irrelevant.

--To 'The Salty Seaman'--

As you get closer, you notice many of the current patrons are sitting outside against the walls, most watching the harbor or the passing crowds. The inside looks to be only lightly occupied, housing no more than 5 or 6 other individuals including the bartender. From this close, you can now see that the building itself appears to resemble the front half of a large ship; tipped upwards so its bow and battered mermaid figurehead point to the heavens. A second and third story jut the curve of the hull, these portions shaped like any other building in the district and likely being where rooms are available for rent. You suspect the ship facade was added onto the original building at some point in time.

---

From here, feel free to continue over to the tavern’s thread. Don’t mind the mess...
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 A man walked from the docks wearing a fancy doublet, dark pants with riding boots that had a shine to them that screamed his status to those around him. At his waist was one dagger on his left side near the front of his belt with 3 small pouches on the other side. His dark hair buffeted lightly around his head as he slung his back pack over his shoulder, the handle of a crossbow could be seen poking through the top of the pack just in front of the bedroll tied to the top.

 He had arrived several hours earlier on a merchant ship, though had sat around watching the dock workers. Keeping to himself and out of the way until, of course, he saw the women who ran from the ship. Such a sight had made him wonder what events lead to a woman being on such a ship and why she ran from it in such a hurried fashion. So on he walked moving through the crowd in the direction she had gone. The hustle and bustle of the people moving around him with the noise of workers shouting out commands. As he slipped past some men carrying large crates and barrels full of wears. He looked over his shoulder, always one to be watching his back, he paused to look up at the sign of the building she had hidden herself away in. He crossed through the door way inside.

In reply to Soren Wolfgard (msg # 24):

The crowd is dense, but not so much so that it is impossible to pass through. Seems the docks are a particularly popular place this time of day. Fishers, sailors, and dock workers of all manner warm through the wharf and the waterfront beyond. You see numerous buildings immediately ahead of you. Most look to be sheds, homes, and rickety shacks. A few, however, are clearly more permanent places of business.

Stalls where fishmongers sell their latest (you hope) catch. A few shacks with counters built in below their single harbor-facing window. These you take to be some manner of dining facility, as you see a few bystanders sitting at them enjoying a quick bite before heading back to their ships.

A few guards patrol the docks themselves and you spot at least one pair of Tenebrian soldiers making a route through the street between the docks themselves and the buildings you’ve been seeing. Their presence is odd here, considering this is, to the best of your knowledge, still a free port, but you suspect they’re likely just passing through; the same as any number of other strangers you pass here.

Beyond that first row of buildings, you can see the hints of taller structures peaking out over these simple wooden hovels that make up most  of the Waterfront District. The city beyond this section of town clearly becomes a much more extravagant, opulent sight to see. And with each step you take closer to it, a little more of that initial uncertainty the sea has left you with shrinks away.

You eventually find yourself following the woman to the entrance of a large, ostentatious tavern amid the otherwise drab wooden buildings of the Waterfront District. The sign, as you look up, is nowhere to be seen. After a momentary search, you notice it is actually laying face up on the ground a few feet away from the door. It appears to be built to resemble a large ship stood up upon its aft, its bow pointing toward the heavens while a simpler wooden building juts from its ; clearly knocked off the building itself some time ago by the look of the moss and mold growing upon its edges. In its place, painted, crossed out, and repainted upon the bare siding of the tavern itself, is what appears to be the sign’s replacement. The text simply reads: “The Salty Seaman Inn & Tavern” in bold white lettering. The majority of the bar’s patrons are currently taking their lunch outdoors; standing or sitting atop crates and boxes along the side of the building.

---

If you are intending to go in, you can switch to the Salty Seaman Tavern thread whenever you’re ready.
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This message was last edited by the GM at 05:06, Sun 03 Jan 2021.