Forums    Newsletter    Guestbook    About    Search    Updates      
         Copyright © Randy Bowers. All rights reserved.


Adventures of Chance: Part IV - "To the Warves" (IRC)

The Next Day

Chance: I get dressed in my traveling garb, get some breakfast and then send a message to Christian telling him that he's to practice daggers with Brent today. With that all done, I start out into the winter morning to search for a clue or the source of my troubles as of late.

DM: So where do you go?

Chance: To the alchemist's place

DM: All right, you trod through the slushy snow in the dim and gray morning light until you reach the alchemists. The snow has been cleared away from his doorstep and a fresh heat warms your cheeks from within.

Chance: I've got my winter cloak on and my warm boots as well.

Chance: I knock on the door and say, "Good morning, master alchemist."

DM: Man: "Good mornin to you as well young man. Ah, you're the fellow who was asking about that powder yesterday...."

Chance: "What have you discovered about that stuff, sir?"

DM: "Well, I did a little work on it last night. Its not easy to identify unknown white powders you know... there are hundreds of them." he says.

Chance: "I'm sure it was within your abilities, though. What could you find out about it?"

DM: Alchemist: "Some of it is inert though. Like chalk, but grainier, like ground bones or something like that. Fine bleached sand perhaps. But there is a second substance mixed with it that eludes me. Could be sand I suppose, but it falls apart with liquids. And it is much finer ground then the bone-like stuff."

Chance: "Falls apart or dissolves?"

DM: "And grayish, " he adds. "Well, it floats for a while and then slowly dissolves." he says.

Chance: "Hmm. Your guess is as good as mine, sir. Thank you for your work." I toss him a platinum for his trouble. "If there's anything else, please send word to the Laughing Frog."

DM: "Hmm." He says as he looks at the platinum puzzled for a moment and then tucks it away. Could be ashes, fine fine ashes..."

Chance: "That it could be. I'm not sure. Maybe I'll have to do a little more searching of my own. Could these be reagents for a spell?"

DM: He shrugs, "I'm hardly the one to ask about that. Talk to a mage."

Chance: "Thanks again to you. Be well."

DM: He nods and goes back to his work as you walk back out into the cold.

Chance: I'll go to Elysium's and hope that he doesn't charge me an arm and a leg.

DM: You arrive there at the northern beaches, the chill winter wind bitterly whips off the waters and carries the spray through the air. Within the fog and misty torment you can see the isthmus that heads into the water and the dark shadow of Elysium's tower.

Chance: Does he still have that goofy looking body mounted on his door? I'm not going to trudge through water in the dead of winter to talk with the mage.

DM: The water doesn't go over the sandy approach to the tower, and yes, the thief-guardian is still there.

Chance: Okay. When I get there, I tell the hands of the body that I am Chance Paedragn and that I'm here to speak with Master Elysium's.

DM: "WHY!?" Spouts the mouth of one of the hands on the tortured thief. You can't imagine what it must be like to be out here exposed to the elements every hour, eyes sewn open and unable to move.

Chance: "Because I have a question that I think that only he may be able to answer."

DM: "WHAT QUESTION?!" Barks the other hand as a cloud of sea spray passes by.

Chance: "I have a question about the possibility of some of the stuff in this bag being reagents for a spell. I don't really care exactly which spell it could be, but I would like to know if I'm on the right track."

DM: There is a loud CLACK of a great bolt being slid back, then the doorway opens up. A heavily cloaked woman stands there with a hood tightly covering most of her head and keeping her obviously ample hair totally from sight, as well as her neck. All that is visible is her face (a la some kinda nun outfit.) She is gorgeous. A slender pale face of beautiful charm, supple lips, and smiling eyes.... she looks down at you. "You have come to speak with Master Elysium's?" she asks you.

Chance: "Good day, milady." I say with a bow. "Yes, I have come for Elysium's."

DM: She steps aside, her feet likewise hidden by the great folds of the cloak she wears.

Chance: If that looks like an offer to enter, I step inside.

DM: You notice her hands are charmingly covered with delicate white fuzzy gloves of high quality. Made from rabbits fur probably.
    "Come with me" she says and with that she begins to head up the winding stone stairway to your left and to the tower heights. You cannot follow too closely because of the long while trailer that she wears from her shoulders off the back of the cloak. The door closes behind you without anyone touching it. You watch the knob turn firmly in place and hear the door lock on its own accord.

Chance: I follow her up the stairs.

DM: She beckons at a door as you guys approach it and it swings open. "In there," she says, "he will be with you soon, Chance."

Chance: "Thank you, milady." I enter the room and take up a seat.

DM: She smiles beguilingly at you and watches as you enter the room. Within are a multitude of mirrors and strange portals which look out from the room and into different domains which look very unlike the city of Tel-Akbar. There are several green, plush couches to recline upon and a warm fire burns in its place at the right end of the room. The carpet is a rich green, thick and lush. It reminds you of the carpet in some places of the keep of Dr. Domini.
    The door closes behind her as she departs the room, humming an odd lilting tune. You watch the trail of her cloak disappear round the door as the latch shuts.

Chance: I wait patiently and think of the clues that I've been given.

DM: After a short while, as you entertain yourself by examining the strange landscapes seen through the portals and contemplate the clues you have learned, there is a sound of someone arriving at the other side of the entrance. You turn to observe the door open and watch the immaculate mage Elysium's gracefully enter.

Chance: I rise and give a little bow, "Good morning, master Elysium's."

DM: "Mr. Paedragn. How pleasant for you to pay a visit to me in the midst of winter." Elysium's intones.

Chance: "I have a question of the possibility of these materials being reagents for a spell," I ask handing him the pouch. "There were also some witches tits in the pouch as well."

DM: "Witches Tits..... The seeds or the flesh?" he inquires.

Chance: "The seeds, sir."

DM: He smoothly walks across the room and stands behind one of the couches, facing you. His thin fingers tap the wooden frame of the couch absently.
    "They are a mere drug, without significant magical potential." he smiles like a serpent, then continues, "You have a sample of this other substance?"

Chance: "A local alchemist says that the white powder seems to be a mix of sand or ground bone and something like ash." I point to the pouch that I handed him.
    "I believe that this pouch belonged to a Grem'sha with the rank of Prophet. I don't really know what that means, but I thought that I would tell you in case it gave you a clue."

DM: "Sheloahaeh, a horizontal surface please." He speaks to no-one apparent. He takes the contents of the pouch and turns it over in the empty air in front of him, as if to dump it onto the carpet. To your surprise, it halts in the air and spreads out as if there was an invisible table there in front of him. He stirs his fingers through it, caressingly. "Hmm...." he murmurs.

Chance: Impressive, I think to myself. I sit back and wait for him to make his decision.

DM: "Do you have something worthy of trade for this knowledge?" he says distractedly.

Chance: "Would a royal do?"

DM: He nods and waves a hand to the air near to where the powder rests.

Chance: I set the royal on the "table" and wait for his response.

DM: "This," he says raising a small bit in the air on a single fingertip, "is bone - useful in many necromantic works of magic." He tastes it to his lips briefly. "Yes." he states.
    Your royal floats there in the air.

Chance: "Not another bloody necromancer. At least this one was dead."

DM: "But it is marred by ashes." he says, "Obviously a failed attempt by a crematorium to reduce someone's ground bones to further dust you will find - I am sure - if you could compare the origins of the two substances."

Chance: "Do you know anything of the Grem'sha and whether they would use something like this?"

DM: "Pah! Hardly. They are mere charlatans who believe their magical idol grants them powers - fooled by the slight of hand and non-magical illusions wrought by their 'high-priests'" He says with obvious disdain.

Chance: "What do you make of this riddle, master Elysium?" I ask as I hand him a copy of the riddle given to me.

DM: He reads aloud - "A tit for tat, A name for scratch And now he's naught but bones. Find true his name You'll find your fame Else a rotten bag of stones. Seek there a wretch, By the water such a mess, And there you can call him home."
    He shrugs. "Find someone named Tat and give him a Witch's Tit." He smiles. "And here are the remains of someone's bones. Unless.... " he thoughtfully pauses. "Unless the phrase, 'Find true his name' means what it suggests." He says idly.

Chance: "You mean unless that phrase implies that I should find the name of the man in the pouch?"

DM: "Perhaps.... was this meant for you? Really I was contemplating a very different interpretation of that phrase there. Something a mage might know of." He smiles like a man with a secret.

Chance: "Such as?"

DM: "Read it with the middle two words in reversed places." he suggests.

Chance: "Is there any way that you can tell from whom these bones came?"

DM: "Perhaps. If he has not been dead for too long perhaps a priest could help you bring him back to life." He flashes a brief grin at you.

Chance: "I just want his name. I guess that rules out the man's bones." I say with a grin.

DM: "Hmm. Well, someone is now bones and I would next seek the true name of either him or some other mentioned here." Elysium says.

Chance: "Thank you for your time, sir. Your advice is always a help."

DM: Elysium: "This is of course ignoring the meanings laced throughout he rest of your riddle.."

Chance: "Such as?"

DM: Elysium, "Hmm?"

Chance: "The other meanings?"

DM: Elysium: "Something tells me that your next clue lies near the waterfront. And I am suspicious of what the last and fourth lines imply."

Chance: "Thanks again, Master Elysium. You are always a service. Enjoy your day."

DM: He nods. "My friend will show you to the door..."
    The door to the room opens and there stands the monkish man with the reptilian scaled arms and clawed hands. Elysium wanders over to a portal and gazes out through it as if observing some other land or lost in thought. Your powder and the coin remain floating in the air.

Chance: I follow the man out to the door and head to the docks.

DM: The serpent-handed man leads you to the door of the tower and lets you out into the element cold. Which harbor would you like to go to?

Chance: The Common Harbor.

DM: You'll need a carriage to make it there by dark.

Chance: I'll go to the Harbor master's Office first. Then, I'll take a carriage.

DM: You hear the carriage driver stopping the horses near Lord's Way and the carriage ceases to move. You step from the carriage door and realize you are only at the fringes of the wharves District of the Common Harbor.

Chance: "Driver, why have we stopped here?"

DM: Driver, "This is as far as I go into the Wharves District buddy. For one silver that is."

Chance: I toss him the silver and bid him good evening. I head to the harbor master's office to see about the Winder Down.

DM: You arrive at the harbors commanding offices. Guards stand outside at attention - the only straight backed men you have seen on your walk through this wretched district.
    "Your name, sir." Says one of the guards by the door. He waits, watching you for your answer which is seeming long in coming.

Chance: "Chance Paedragn."

DM: He nods briskly. "Took him a while to answer" says the other guard. "I think he's a lyin."
    The first guard nods. "Probably. We can't let a un-truthful man enter into the harbormaster's building."
    "Unless you have proof of some official business." says the other man with a suspicious coughing sound.
    "Yes. Some proof of your official business." replies the other.

Chance: If you question my identity, sir, ask Captain Harold of the Guard.

DM: "neverheardohim" Answers the one on the right. "Me neither." says the second.

Chance: I pull out the slip of paper and show it to the men...the one with the name Wind'er Down on it.

DM: "What's this" cries the first.
    "Looks like a lame attempt to buy his way in" says the second.
    "You'll have to do better than that." says the first.

Chance: "Sirs, I'm Chance Paedragn. The same that brought in the demon heads last year. I have important business and, as the Harbor Master's Office is a public office, I see no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to enter."

DM: "We don't believe you." Says the first.
    "Nay. So you will need to provide us with a reason to let you in," says the second.

Chance: "How's the fact that I'm investigating a possible homicide for Sir Harold?"

DM: The guards both shrug.
    "Prolly lying bout that too." suggests the second.

Chance: I pull out two gold pieces, "Since you've obviously been outside freezing for some time, why don't you let me in and warm your pockets?"

DM: The guards snatch up the two gold and part to let you in.

Chance: "Thanks."

DM: You part the wooden doors and enter a small room, largely occupied by a vast-waisted man who is seated behind a desk with a mountain of papers to his left and right.

Chance: "Good evening, sir. May I ask you a question?"

DM: He looks up. "I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed," he mutters.
    "Whaddya need kid," he growls.

Chance: "I need to know if a boat my the name of Wind'er Down has been in port in the last few days."

DM: "Depends on how you look at it," speaks the large man, "Some say she's in harbor, others say out. Either case, she ain't goin no where..." He chuckles and slams a large wax stamp down on a paper which is promptly files by his feet.

Chance: "What do you mean, sir? Has she sunk?"

DM: He nods. "Mostly." He says.

Chance: Where can I find her in the harbor?

DM: Fat man: "Out there on the south side of the bay, on the rocks. It'll probably slide into the bay with the next storm unless the city does something about it."

Chance: I take a carriage back to the Laughing Frog and send word to Theo to see if he can help me get out to the boat.

DM: You arrive at the warm tavern of the Laughing Frog. Looks like a busy night there. Lots of people have come in from the cold as the evening deepens and proves to be one of the colder.

Chance: I send a message to Theo and then change my clothes for a bit of entertainment. I offer to tell a tale or two if the people so desire.

DM: It takes a little more coin than usual to get one of the boys hanging around to go out into that gnawing dark cold out there...

Chance: I'll give him 5 silver and promise to buy him a round of whatever he wants.

DM: He speeds off. It isn't much later then when Theo and the boy arrive... in the meanwhile you entertain yourself by telling a tale to the masses.

Theo: "Chance! I thought you were leaving for the Eastern Empire with that cute halfling you met?

Chance: "Good evening, Theo. Eva's not coming with me to the Empire. Too much work at the ranch. I'll probably go visit when I get back. How's your winter been?"

DM: Neal brings over a couple mugs of steaming mead for the two of you.

Chance: "Thanks, Neil."

DM: Neil nods and goes back to his business.

Theo: "Not bad....busy. Very busy. I'm nearing a breakthrough on this matter I'm working on for the church of Arden. Between that, and my other research, I manage to avoid having idle hands."

Chance: "Is it that rune thing that you've been working on? We need to build a place and build one of those things for us."

Theo: "Yes, I know. Hell, I'm not entirely sure that I CAN build it...and it looks as if there are significant risks to my health in the attempt."

Chance: "Really? That sucks." I kick back and relax a little bit with my mead.

Theo: "But these are not things to be spoken of in ... a place such as this."

Chance: "Hey, what would you say to helping me cross some water so that I can check out a boat in the harbor tomorrow?"

Theo: "Sounds interesting. You're not in trouble are you, Chance?"

Chance: "Nope. Just doing a little investigating. I'm nosy, ya know?"

Theo: "Certainly....I'll give you a hand."

Chance: "Thanks, Theo. Oh, you should meet my apprentice." I motion for Christian to come over to the table from where he's serving.

Theo: "Apprentice?... well, there... pleased to meet you, lad."

DM: "Apprentice?" Christian says, then, "Yeah, same to you. Hi."

Chance: "My friend, Theo, this is Christian. Christian, may I introduce, Theodophilus Greenbow. He's my mage buddy.

DM: "All right." Christian says unenthusiastically. Christian is a little short for a human, maybe 5'2", has dishwater blonde hair and dull blue eyes. He might be eighteen years old but is probably younger. Just the tiniest shadow of stubble covers his chin.

Chance: "How did training with Brent this morning go?"

DM: Christian: "Brent, oh..... he's ok, you know...."

Theo: "Don't take Chance here too seriously... he's been known to .....exaggerate.. things at times."

Chance: "Yeah, like how good a magician you are, Theo. hehe"

Theo: chuckles politely and gives Chance a cold look.

Chance: Turning to Christian, "That's good. Sorry, you seem to be preoccupied with something. Take the next three days off and I'll try to get some things in order so that we don't have to upset your training schedule any more."

DM: "Chance likes to scare me with tales of you killing little boys with magic..." Christian says menacingly, "Just to let you know I'll cut your throat if you try that with me. I'm not some little punk kid." He then smiles, nicely.

Chance: "That's no story. He did it. Blew this poor kid away for stealing a minor belt purse. hehe"

Theo: "The thief poisoned me. He got what was coming to him."

Chance: "Theo, the dagger was old and dirty. Sanjian and Taren both said that much and they NEVER agreed on anything."

Chance: "Christian, I doubt that the issue of you boosting Theo's belt purse will ever come up. Bards don't have to do that kind of thing."

DM: "Bards?" Christian says with a grin.

Theo: "Not if they tell tales that are worth their salt."

DM: "ssuuuuuureee..... riiiiight." christian over-exaggerates and then winks at Chance.

Theo: winks at Christian.

DM: Christian, "You some kinda perv, Theo?" Christian quickly says, "Winking at me like that..."

Chance: "Watch out, Chris. People that play with Theo like that have been known to itch and have their hair change color for no reason. It's really kinda funny. I'm sure that won't happen, though. We're all friends here."

DM: Christian: "Well, I'll know who to blame next time I need to scratch..."

Theo: "No more so than you.. you did, after all wink at my friend here."

DM: Christian, "You callin me a perv?"

Theo: "You're kind of spunky. I see why Chance likes you."

Chance: "Okay, guys...that's enough. You two may have to trust each other with your lives one day." I chuckle at the thought. "I'm going to turn in for the night so that we can get an early start in the morning, Theo."

DM: Christian, "Hey - are you calling me a perv?" Christian lightly pushes Theo's shoulder. "I'm talking to you, you punk-ass. You callin me a perv?"

Theo: "How about this....I'll believe you're a ...bard... when you tell tales as well as Chance here. No offense, but I think you had better calm down."

Chance: I get up from the table and lose myself in the crowd. I find a pretty girl, slip her a silver piece and tell her to say to Christian "So what if I AM calling you a perv?"

DM: She looks at you and says "No way... he hits people."

Chance: "He won't hit you."

DM: The girl walks off and the bar is starting to take note of the disturbance...

DM: Christian, "I don't like you telling me what to do... How'd you like it if I told you what to do? huh?"
    "How about if I told you to shove your damn pervert head up your ass? Huh? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Theo: begins to cast Tasha's uncontrollable Hideous Laughter on the fool.

DM: As soon as Theo starts spell casting, in the blink of an eye Christian leaps over the table and puts the tip of his dagger at Theo's throat.
    "You gonna keep spell casting, punk?"

DM: Theo, needless to say you lost initiative and haven't finished your spell yet, are you gonna keep casting?

Theo: I stop casting.

Chance: I walk over to Theo and step between the two of them. "Theo, you're gonna get fined up the butt again if you cast something." I turn to Christian, "Put it away, Chris. He was just joking with you."

DM: Christian sheaths his dagger hard. "Bloody perv."
    Christian grins at the bar and Chance.

Chance: I jump up on the table and announce to the crowd, "This is a new type of improvisation that my friends have been working on. Please excuse the disturbance. It was all meant in fun...a little evening drama without the bloodshed."

DM: Somehow, Chance's charisma wins through... though people can't help but be slightly skeptical...

DM: I think we should be proud of Theo for exercising some restraint and not blasting away another kid.

Chance: I climb down and look at both of them, "This is gonna be a damn funny story to tell the rest of the guys. Now, you two, let's get some separate rooms and be friendly in the morning."

DM: Christian grins and goes back to his work.

Chance: I go upstairs and get some rest.

Theo: "Chance.....let's go upstairs and work out some details, eh?"

Chance: "Sure. But remember, Theo. I only like you as a friend." I say with a wink and a chuckle.

DM: The two of you retire to Chance's room upstairs.

Theo: "So tell me about this ship, Chance."

Chance: "All I know is that it's called the Wind'er Down and that it's on the rocks in the harbor. I need to investigate it in order to find out someone's name."

Theo: "And you're not going to piss anyone off by going out to the place?"

Chance: "Nope. At least I hope not. It should be a quick 'in-and-out' trip."

Theo: "All right then."

Theo: "We should be able to fly invisibly out to the ship.. unless of course, you want to attract attention?"

Chance: "Hmm...let me I don't like unneeded attention as you well know. We COULD do it tonight if you wanted to, but it's cold and I would rather sleep."

Theo: "You say the ship is on the rocks?"

Chance: "Yup. That's what the Harbor Master's Office said."

Theo: "Then time is of the essence, no?"

Chance: "As long as the weather holds, we should be okay. We can go now if you'd like. Let me put on my gear first, though."

Theo: "Allow me to prepare. We leave in say, two hours?"

Chance: "Great...that's enough time for a quick nap. Sure."

DM: All right... two hours pass uneventfully. The partying downstairs continues audibly through the floor of the room.

Theo: is going to maintain a fly spell on himself and Chance.

Theo: "I figure we go invisible in a more convenient location?"

Chance: "Theo, when we leave here, let's go invisibly. I have reason to believe that the men that Sanjian and I have been trying to avoid have been watching me. I tried to re-establish my info network and got a message that I was being watched."

Theo: "All right then"

Theo: casts invisibility on himself and Chance.

Theo: "We'll leave out the window?"

Chance "The window's fine."

Chance: "Theo, can you leave a phantasmal force of me here while we're gone?"

Theo: "No. I would have to be within a certain range."

Chance: "Or at least while we leave?"

Theo: "I suppose."

Chance: "Have it look like it was opening the window and then close it again and walk back to the bed...out of sight."

Theo: "Put the lights out first."

Chance: "That just will cover our departure." I put out the lights and I lead us to the harbor where the Wind'er Down is supposed to be.

Theo: I caution Chance to stay low to the ground....don't want to be too cocky by flying above the city.

DM: You guys fly out into the terrible cold of the night, the city is dark below and flecks of new snow falling lay bare the heat from your exposed places.

Chance thinks, "I hate the cold."

DM: As you approach the Common harbor you can see the fang-like masts shadows in the sky of the lighthouse lights on the south end of the harbor.

Theo: "It's probably guarded."

Chance: "Why would anyone guard a shipwreck? Besides, we're invisible and flying. No one's gonna hear us go in or out."

Theo: "Still, I will be cautious".

Chance: "Okay." As I get closer to the wreck, do I pick anything out with my infravision?

DM: As you approach the wreck you note that there is no place for guards to be stationed anyway. The wreck rests against sharp boulders which just several hundred feet out into the sea. The surf pounds it and you can hear the occasional erie creak of timbers as it labors against the waters. Crystals of ice have formed on the masts, making them sparking needles, stabbing to the sky. There is no place for a man to safely stand watch over the wreck - and apparently none care. It would be to risk one's life to attempt to pilfer the insides of the vessel. And most is probably washed away or rotting ruin beneath the sunken and shattered bulkhead. The ship is alee with its starboard side sharply slanted down into the water.

Theo: "Good thing we don't have to move around on that ice."

Chance: "No kidding."

Chance: Is there any way for Chance to get into the ship?

DM: He's flying, of course there is.

Theo: "Well, if we do have to go underwater, Chance, We'll be portaling to your parent's inn to dry off."

Chance: "Okay...let me go in first. I'm not sure what it is I'm looking for."

Theo: "Right... we ought to check the captain's log, too."

Chance: "Good idea."

Theo: "Might be important to find out what her cargo was, too."

DM: The door to the back compartments, under the rear high-decks - is exposed, frosted as well.

Chance: "Yup. If there's a passengers' log, we should check that too."

Theo: "Is that door open, chance? I can't see too well in this light."

DM: It is closed. Locked.

Chance: I'll fly over to the door and chip the ice off enough to get the door open. "You really should work on an infravision spell, Theo."

I'll pick the lock....55%.

DM: The lock is frozen solid in its casing.

Chance: Okay...I'll pull out my dagger and put the tip in the lock and then jam it through to destroy the lock. It's not enough to set the boat to sinking further, but enough to get in the door. Unless there's a window or porthole I can get through instead.

Theo: "I've got a coin with continual light on it...but that's not discreet enough. How long has this ship been here?"

Chance: "At least a couple of days. Not sure how long. Why?"

Theo: "Just curious."

DM: The lock doesn't budge but it does loosen the door in its settings.

Theo: Are the hatches closed or open?

DM: The hatches are all closed. The door could probably be bashed in.

Theo: "Maybe we can pry it open?"

Chance: "I'll try." I see if I can pry out the hinges.

DM: Sure, you slowly loosen up the tuck hinges, prying them loose from the wood they are fastened to. Its not too hard since the wood is slightly rotten.

Chance: I pull the door open and then drop it into the water. I fly into the cabin and see what there is to see.

Theo: I'm going to fly up and check the crow's nest while he's working on this.

DM: Up in the crows nest the air is cold, but you are out of the sea-spray. There, in the tilted corner of the small man-bucket, is the huddled body of a sailor.

Chance: "Did you find anything up there, Theo?"

Theo: "There's a body."

Theo: I check the body for anything interesting.

Chance: "Hey, Theo. Look for anything that might hint at his name or if he's got something that would give him a nickname like Tit or Scratch."

Theo: "Uh... ok."

DM: All you find on the body is a dagger, held fast in the man's frozen grasp. His face is frozen, eyes and mouth open wide in horror.

Theo: takes the dagger and joins chance.

Theo: hands the dagger to chance. "That's all he had."

Chance: Does the dagger look like the other one I found?

DM: No.

DM: Within the cabin, probably the captains quarters of the vessel considering its proximity to the deck and wheel, is a mess. Broken table parts are still fastened to the wall while other parts are scattered across the crazy angled floor. On the opposite side from the door is a horrific site. Hanging upside-down, arms outstretched, and pinned to the wall with wooden stakes taken from the table and chairs is the horribly malnourished husk of a man. Only holes are in the face where the eyes once were. a red stain covers most of the body's neck. The body is emaciated and dry looking, except for the sparkle of frost that covers its blood stains.

Chance: I look for a log of some sort...basically search the cabin...including for secret doors and the like.

DM: There is a smashed safe-box under where the table would have been.

Chance: Like someone already got to the safe box?

DM: Like it was smashed. Whether someone already got to it - who knows.

Chance: I look at the body and under the clothes to see if there's a tattoo or anything. Is there anything like a log or anything on board?

DM: The smashed cabinet is filled with brine, ice, torn clothing - as if some creature went through it in a hurry - burned streaks.... Shreds of wood and broken glass. There, mixed with the mess, is a small brown covered journal. wet and frozen. Or you must assume its a journal - it could be the captains drink mixing manual.

Theo: takes a look a the back of the cabinet, looking for secret compartments.

Chance: I'll retrieve the journal and carefully put it in a sack.

DM: You notice that much of the cloth and wooden shards in the cabinet are burnt slightly.

Chance: Is the rest of the boat burned at all?

DM: In the dark it is really hard to tell.

Theo: "I bet he had some kind of firetrap protecting what was in there."

Chance: Is there a hole going into the lower decks from here?

DM: No.

Chance: "Theo, you should be able to use your glowy thing in here."

Theo: "It will light up the ship...."

Chance: "The fire trap is probably a good guess. That's true. Maybe we should check out this journal and then come back tomorrow in the daylight."

Theo: "it's got like a 60' radius....."

Theo: "We better search now... I don't think this wrecks going to stay afloat much longer."

Chance: "Light that bugger up. The light won't reach the city since it's magical, right? What if you cast darkness on the door and then used the light? Would that block the lick to people outside?"

DM: It will be very visible to the rest of the bay and the nearby lighthouse which is manned in the least. The mist and snow will reduce its glair to a blob of dim light from a distance though.

Theo: "It's chancy, but I'll risk it if you want to... I think the lighthouse will see it though. We can prolly use it once we are inside the hull, but not up here."

Chance: I'll light a torch instead and tell Theo to cover his eyes.

Theo: does so.

DM: Okay. The place is brilliantly lighted up with a cheery flickering torch. You can see the spray of blood stains across the walls of the room now and the large burned patches on the floor...