Developments in River’s Rest by Quilic
GM Quilic recounts developments in River’s Rest. A dockworker finds a near-dead Trader Mazorn with a waterlogged green folded note pinned to his chest with a dagger. A healer helped rescue the seriously injured trader, before calling for more help. The dockworker reads the note and heads into the wreckage of the warehouse…
Category: Towns
Topic: River’s RestDate: 07/27/2018 06:52 PM CDTFrom: GS4-QUILICSubj: Developments, 27th of Koaratos 5118In the deepest part of the night, a dockworker shuffled along, his pipe smoldering as he drew on it. His eyes were on the remains of the warehouse… the barest bones of the brand new structure. Some of the facade still remained, and a few of the support beams were still standing, but nothing about it could be called a ‘warehouse’ any longer. The dockworker shook his head slowly at the sight, then turned away towards town.Before he could take more than a single step, the night wind carried a faint sound to his ears. The dockworker froze, trying to identify the noise. His heart began to hammer as he looked skyward, but all seemed clear. He glanced all around, looking for the source of the sound, but nothing met his gaze. Then the noise sounded again… the faintest of cries, from the direction of the river. The dockworker’s eyes bulged as he rushed over to investigate.
There, clinging to a piece of rigging on a support stanchion, was Trader Mazorn… or what was left of him. The dockworker let out a cry for help, and immediately started scrambling down the stanchion himself. When he got close, he saw how badly injured Mazorn truly was. The man had lost his right arm, and had a nasty gash across his left eye, which was swollen completely shut. The dockworker called out the Trader’s name, but the man was delirious and nonsensical in his replies.
The dockworker heaved at the Trader, getting the man’s remaining arm around his shoulder and pulling with the strength gained from a lifetime on the water. The Trader’s body moved easily enough, and the dockworker stumbled to the surface of the dock, doing his best to hold Mazorn aloft with one hand while he steadied himself. The worker then gently lowered Mazorn to the dock. And that’s when he saw it.
Imbedded in Trader Mazorn’s shoulder with a dagger, sunk to the hilt, was a green, folded note. With shaking hands, the dockworker reached for the note, which was badly waterlogged, and it came free with the slightest of tugs, the drenched parchment separating around the blade of the dagger. He laid the letter on the dock and read it quickly, his face darkening with each passing moment. When he had finished, his eyes darted to Mazorn once more. Looking around to see that no help was yet forthcoming, he put his fingers to his lips and sounded a sharp, loud whistle.
After a moment or two, the dockworker could see movement from the direction of town. As he waited for help to arrive, he checked the Trader over as best he could, confirming that the man was at least still breathing. Within minutes, help had arrived in the form of a small group of townsfolk, including one young man who identified himself as a local healer. The healer took one look at Mazorn and immediately began to chant, laying his hands gently on the Trader’s brow.
When the healer had stabilized Mazorn, he told the dockworker that the man needed far more substantial care than he was able to provide under the circumstances. The dockworker agreed to help transport the injured man back to town with all haste, enlisting a few of the onlookers to assist with the effort. As they began to lift the Trader, the dockworker halted, and asked that they hold for just a moment. He picked up the letter once more and stared at it for a long moment. Then with purposeful strides, he made his way to the wreckage of the warehouse, drawing his own belt dagger. With an angry, sharp motion, he pinned the note to one of the remaining support pillars with the dagger, then turned away with a snarl on his lips.
The dockworker returned to the small group of townsfolk and helped them heft Mazorn’s unconscious form as best they could manage. With careful steps, they made their way back towards town.
Deep in the woods, a massive viridian griffin glided to a careful landing, alighting gently with its precious cargo cradled in a curled claw. As its bulk settled, it gently lowered the claw, releasing its cargo. The still form of Veridese, the Green Lady, tumbled ignominiously to the jungle floor. The griffin backed away, its head cocked far to the side as it regarded her with a huge, unblinking eye. After a pregnant pause, the griffin lowered its mighty beak and nudged the unmoving form. Seeing no response, the great beast nudged harder, but the form gave no reaction whatsoever. The griffin watched and waited for a time, but the inert form didn’t so much as twitch.
With no real warning, the griffin let out a mighty keen, its face toward the night sky, then it spread its wings and leapt into the air. Powerful flaps quickly carried the monstrous beast out of sight, but before it had disappeared completely, the first of the predatory eyes began to edge closer from the jungle depths.
Far out in Maelstrom Bay, a sleek black chest guttered along, its great weight barely offset by its inherent buoyancy. Wave after wave crashed across its top, concealing it from view time and again, only to have it reappear after the breaking of each wave. A miniature squall developed in the distance, and soon the waves began to grow larger. A particularly large wave developed, heading straight for the chest. It broke at just the right moment, and the chest disappeared under its impact, and did not rise again.
-GM Quilic
“I have a question… possibly two…”