The Lighthouse

8th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

All four of you sleep in later than usual, the late night after long travel taking its toll. Ruggo, you awake first, and the realization hits you that the jobs are likely to hit the board any time now, and you have yet to report to Captain Reynolds. You hastily dress and gather your things and make your way to the lobby, hoping that your companions are already there waiting for you. Unfortunately, they are not - though it seems Lyla is back at work, and she greets to with a smile as you burst into the lobby.

Rowan gives Lyla a warm grin and a wink.

"Mornin' Lyla, trust yer day off was enjoyed? And much deserved."

"It was enjoyed indeed! Perhaps a little too much, if I'm being completely honest - but the pleasant weather and sunshine go a long way to curing that, 'least for me. Glad you and your companions made it back alright - word is, a lot of the other adventurers didn't fare as well."

Leaning his elbows on the desk and in a whisper, "That right? What's the word on that exactly?"

"Well, it's not that the Lances really come tell the innkeeper about these things, but I overheard talk that several of the adventuring parties sent out recently haven't returned. And the Sword is quite a bit emptier than it was a tenday ago."

"That's a shame... damn shame. Well I'm headin' to the job board to see if there's anything doin'. Me and my crew might be back tonight to make use of the lovely service here, so don't you worry."

Rowan stands up and heads to the door.

"If yeh see the others, wouldya tell em to meet me there? You have a wonderful day Lyla."

Storm wakes up feeling extra refreshed. He lays in bed relaxing, glad to hear it isn't raining today. Thoughts of the Tower of Thalivar come to mind and last night's adventure. Storm realizes how much he enjoys lore and perhaps that's why this whole mystery intrigues him.

"I am a Bard of Lore I guess." he says, chuckling to himself.

He lays there for a few more moments, slowly waking up with the feeling that there is somewhere he needs to be...

...
...
...

Giving a Tabaxi curse, Storm leaps out of bed and quickly dresses. He packs up his bag and equips all his gear before racing down the maze of hallways to the lobby fearing that he has held everyone up by sleeping in.

Storm greets Lyla as he stumbles into the lobby in a hurry.

"Su'tali Lyla, it was good to see you last night at the Tusk. This one is glad you get time to unwind with friends and have a good time. Did any of my companions make it out yet, please don't tell me I'm the last one!"

Cain had an uneventful night, and slept quite well despite the close encounter with ... whatever that was, at the Manyclaw Alley. He did sleep with the candles on full light though ...

Stretching, he gets out of bed, packs his gear and heads to the front desk just in time to hear Storm's question

"Ah, perfect timing. I guess we're the first two out."

Lyla's eyes open with surprise as Storm bursts in, followed quickly after by Cain.

"Oh, uh, I'm afraid not actually - Rowan has already left, said to let you know that he was going to the job board!"

"Su'tali Cain, hope you slept well and glad to see I am not the last one up."

Turning to Lyla... "Thank you again Lyla. Shall we pay now? We are unsure what this day will bring but we need to be at the Lances camp this morning for our report. If we're quick enough, we can catch up to Ruggo."

Looking out the window and seeing where the sun is, Cain speaks up, "We're probably going to miss first picks of the contracts if we were hoping to get a new one. Probably why Rowan went on ahead ... hopefully he gets something good. In the meantime, we should probably wait for Govath."

Turning to Lyla, "Would there be a way to call on him?"

Lyla rings up Bronwyn and asks him to go and knock on the Dwarf's door. He zips off, and a few minutes later, Govath is awoken by the sound.

"Master Govath, sir, your companions await you in the lobby, and request your presence at your earliest convenience."

"Ah what? Yes yes tell them I will be out shortly."

"Would not do letting them venture by themselves. That Storm would get into some serious trouble. Chuckling to himself. Of which I do not want to miss."

Govath proceeds to pull himself out of the bed, splash some water on his face and proceed to attempt finding his way to the front lobby.

Perhaps a little more casually than he should, Govath gets up and prepares for the day ahead, eventually joining Cain and Storm in the lobby of The Sword of Leilon.

Storm waits as patiently as he can but keeps eyeing the front door, hoping Ruggo made out alright with the contracts.

Seeing Govath enter, he greets him.

"Ah Govath, you made it through the maze. Ruggo has gone ahead to the Lance's encampment and we are to meet him there."

Govath yawns deeply and stretches his back. "Well ideally we already have our job picked out, it just needs approval from the Lances no? And payment for our contract is not going anywhere. But may as well see what Ruggo had found."

"Ruggo is certainly capable enough to pick out the best contract available. This one just hopes he got there before the Reavers did. He seems to have a...history with then. Or at least that Runa one I think. Might be best if he wasn't caught with them alone."

Turning to Lyla, he bids her a good morning and mentions they will pay later in the day after visiting the Lance's camp. He heads out the door and into the morning sun.

Cain nods to Lyla as they head out the door.

"Yeah, Rowan has a thing for that big one Runa. He literally just blushes whenever she's around. You should have seen what he did last night at the bar when they left ... he literally stood up and practically bowed until she left. Govath here made it even more awkward by grilling him about it.", Cain starts to laugh at the thought.

"It is very strange that he hides his natural indenty with magic whenever he's in Leilon yet doesn't mind being himself outside town or even Gnomengarde. Maybe the whole ruse has soemthing to do with the tall one Runa.

But he is a good guide. Someone like him would make very decent coin as a jungle guide on Chult."

"Now, I would not say grilling, more encouraging to open up more. He is comfortable among some people, but not all. As a guide though, indeed best I have met on my way here."

"We are lucky we don't have to pay him. I wonder if he's getting paid by the Lances."

"That never occurred to me. He seemed to be in the same boat as us, just been here longer is all."

"I get the impression he is more a freelancer and seems to have an in with the Lances. Perhaps freelanced as a guide for them before. It would be in the interest of the Lances' to hire guides like Ruggo to help adventuring groups for a higher success rate. I wonder if they know he's a Firbolg..."

"Well looks like we have more questions to grill Ruggo with." Govath grins and winks at Cain and Storm.

The three of you make your way to the town square, where the large tent has been set up for Captain Reynolds to handle the registration and reportings-in of adventuring parties like yourselves. It seems quieter than when you were last here, only a handful of colourful individuals standing about, but you make your way through the pinned-up flap and find the Captain at his temporary station, the young Squire Geoffrey by his side as before.
He finishes taking down the details of a young woman, who then passes you on her way out, and then looks up at the three of you. He looks even more worn out than before as he addresses you.

"Adventurers, it is a relief to see you have returned safely. What news from Gnomengarde? Had they anything to help us in our plight?"

"We have plenty to share, and it was a very successful trip. However, we're missing Rowan ... he came here early to look at the contract board. Has he not come yet? We should wait for him before handing in our report."

"I'm afraid Rowan has not yet been by - perhaps he is still looking at the job board by the barracks. If you wish to wait, perhaps I can impart some information to you in the meantime.

Unfortunately, several adventuring parties sent out on recent errands never returned to us. Some, admittedly, perished at the pursuit of their tasks - a risk that everyone understood from the beginning. Such is the nature of our work. Many others, however, fell in a string of attacks by the Dragon itself. It would seem that the time of sparse sightings and low whispers is past. The creature has openly presented itself as a very real threat.

The Lances have sent inquiries out in every direction to better ascertain the nature of our adversary, and our contacts in the north have come through for us. We know both name and nature of the beast - Cryovain, they call it. A fairly young White Dragon originally spotted over the Sea of Moving Ice. Something has driven it south after a what I'm told is a long period of remaining unseen. Our scouts have confirmed it seems to have settled somewhere in the eastern peaks - much to the annoyance of the Orc tribes which are known to make their home there, I am sure.

White Dragons are a primal and aggressive sort, I'm given to understand. Little matters to them beyond kin, food, and hoard. We can only assume this recent string of attacks are a display of dominance and a testing of power. Leilon joins the other cities and towns of the Sword Coast in making preparations for the worst. But our primary concern must be the safety of our own citizens, so we must rely now more than ever on the generosity of adventurers like yourselves to assist outside of the city walls where needed. Unfortunately, more have fallen than have registered, these past few days. And so we have doubled our usual rewards and are allowing each party to take on up to two tasks at a time, should they wish."

"We do wish, Captain..." Rowan stands at the entrance to the tent with two rolls of parchment in his hand. "Glad to see the sleepyheads managed to crawl outta bed." He says with a wink.

There's something different about Rowan... one of his eyes is now a very dark brown, contrasted to the light brown of the other. Where the light on looks friendly and welcoming, the dark gives him a severe appearance.

"Ah, Rowan. I was just apprising your companions of the situation as it stands. I'm sure they can fill you in on what you've missed. Now then, I am eager to hear tell of your journey to Gnomengarde."

"Well where to begin. With the troubling news I suppose is best. We have a brief update about the dragon, as we had an encounter with it. Fortunately seeking shelter before it could spot us. It was however devouring some possibly elf or human, we have a wrist band from them that perhaps you recognize. We also saw it fly off in a North Eastern direction after finishing its meal."

"Now better news, we cleared the route to Gnomengarde of some harpies to better improve the safety of any future travel or trade with the gnomes. We can describe how to find your way there to someone familiar with the area. The gnomes were not particularly excited about us bargaining into their quaint domain, have a trigger happy gnome guarding entrance." Govath rubs where he got shot in the shoulder. "They have agreed to aid Leilon and are currently working on developing an automated ballista which we be ready for pick up within the week."

Turning to the group. "Anything else I am missing?"

Storm steps up to the desk.

"As my companion Govath has mentioned, the ballista will serve as a great defense against Cryovain. The design and construction these Gnomes can do are impressive and dependable. We have also established good relations with the brother Kings of Gnomengarde through helping them solve a serious local problem. In doing so, we received this magically crafted item in return."

Storm takes off the hat and places it on the desk. He then explains the properties once a caster is attuned.

"This hat may pose useful to one of your men in an attack or defense against Cryovain. However if we continue further contracts for the Lances, it would also serve this group as well. The choice is yours Captain, this one is fine with either decision."

"To the point of Govath's report of Cryovain's sighting, our good guide Ruggo here can provide a detailed mark of where we encountered it in its possible hunting area."

Storm bows and motions for Ruggo to continue the report.

Rowan takes off his pack and produces the wristband, the completed job posting, and the pole of collapsing to Captain Reynolds.

"Yeah, about a days walk from here towards the entrance to the mountains we encountered that Cryovain. Barely managed to avoid detection but another fella wasn't so lucky. This is the only recoverable piece of clothing, and he did indeed seem to be an elven male."

Holding the pole in his hand he says "Toxasqexdfjh" and it extends to its 10 ft. Then saying, "Xasqexdfgh" * it shrinks once more.

"This was gifted by the Gnomes to us personally as reward for killin' a threat that was terrorizing the kingdom. After the run-in with the beast I don't see how it could be used against it, but I leave that to yer discretion. I reckon I could find a use for our travels servin' the Lances goin' forward."

Once Rowan finishes his report, Cain steps forward and picks up the pole, "And the common phrase for this is compactify and uncompactify in case gnomeish is a little hard on the tongue."

Placing the pole onto the table, he turns and retrieves the wand from his pack. "We were also given this wand, of which we haven't tested its capabilities. Perhaps one of your magic users could make use of it?"

The Captain patiently listens to your report, occasionally looking down to make a note on the piece of parchment in front of him. The four of you having spoken, he strokes his beard for a moment and then responds.

"The hat I am confident would be of great use to our few casters. That being said, if your intention is to continue aiding the Lances in spite of the dire information you have just heard, I see no reason to push you to part with it. The pole, I am not so confident about. Nonetheless, it is clearly a magical item and thus I am authorized to give you payment for it if you leave it in our care. (Turning to Cain) As for this wand, did the Gnomes give no indication of its purpose?"

Thinking back, he responds, "They said it produces harmless, but beautiful, explosive effects. Something that they enjoyed when they were young. I suppose it could be useful for sort of alarm system which could be seen from afar?"

"Hmm, yes. I could envision a use for it even among our non-magic-wielding troops. Well, any of these three items you're willing to part with, you'll be given the fifty gold pieces for.

As for the promise of a Gnome-engineered ballista, that's a little stickier. I'm not sure I can authorize Lance funds for something that is not yet available and requires troops and resources to fetch. I can bring it up with Lord Filmarya when I next report, and have an answer for you when you return from your next task.

Now, the matter of the bracer - I'm afraid I have no eye for details such as this. Any one of the dozens of adventurers I have met may have been wearing it. I am simply grateful you did not share this one's fate. You were wise to stay out of the Dragon's sight."

"That's uh... disappointin' tah hear Captain, but we understand the situation yer in. However havin' seen first hand the ingenuity of the gnomes, both in magic and defensive weaponry, I can vouch fer the usefulness these ballista would be to yeh. If it comes to it and an escort for pickup is needed please consider us first. And when you see how useful it is I reckon you'll pay us honestly what it's worth.

Now as for these... I have plans for the gold already. I'll hand over the rod to yeh. Once this dragon issue is dealt with, and if we all survive, I'd ask the chance to buy it back from yeh at cost."

Storm retrieves the hat and puts it back on his head.

"This one will hold onto the hat in this case while we continue contract work. When the time comes for the Lances to have need for it, then you may take it."

"All would be needed is a good sturdy cart, one used to transfer stone, a couple horses and you would have yourself a function ballista."

"Well now, to be clear, I didn't rule out chance of payment, I merely said I would need to consult with Lord Filmarya first. My hands are tied, I'm afraid - but you've granted enough evidence of the Gnomes' capabilities and willingness to help that I feel confident I can make a good case."

"So for now it looks like we'll be submitting two magical items to the Lance's. How does that sound?"

"And we look forward to what Lord Filmarya has to say regarding the ballista work order upon the report of our next contract."

"It is much appreciated. Geoffrey?"

You watch as the young man counts out coin from a purse attached to his belt, transferring it to a small pouch which he then deposits on the table in front of you.

"Here you are, sirs. One-hundred gold pieces - fifty per item."

As Geoffrey hands off the gold to his companions, Storm steps forward once again.

"There is another thing we would like to discuss Captain. This one has hard troubling rumors regarding the run down district north of the port. In particular of the Manyclaw Alley.

Have the Lance's investigates these rumors in the last or have any resources to do so? If the manpower cannot be spared, this group could find some time to investigate the dangers."

Storm bows.

"Apologies but this one has realized some words have been misused. Common is not my native tongue but I trust you understand my meaning." He laughs.

"Manyclaws Alley? The Lances have enough to deal with at the moment without taking old wives' tales and superstitions into account. That's a rough part of Leilon, and the way I figure it, the thugs and thieves have just found a fun way to make sure nobody interferes with their nefarious business. As ideal as it would be to restore the area, we simply cannot spare the resources, especially now. Of course, you are free agents and may do as you wish - but for what it's worth, I believe your time would be better spent giving tangible aid against the larger threat looming over us."

Storm nods in agreement.

"Very well Captain. If we can find time to look into these tales and discover anything of use, we will report them to you. But as you say, our time is better spent against the immediate danger that threatens you all."

Storm steps back and bows.

"(Nods) I do wish you Tyr's protection as you undertake your new tasks, and look forward to your safe return."

Cain nods and follows Rowan outside the tent.

"Twenty-five gold each, that's not a bad haul for a few days worth of work."

"How was the job board looking this morning, was there anything interesting for us?"

"Suppose we have ourselves a little way to spend our time between the tavern and jobs for the Lances. Good day to you Captain." Govath follows out on the heals of Cain.

Rowan hands Cain the two job parchments. "There were three jobs left. These two caught my eye as I have a tad of expertise concernin'em."

"Orcs have attacked Butterskull Ranch, five miles east of Conyberry along the Triboar Trail. Travel there with haste, assess the damage, and assist any way you can. The owner, Alfonse Kalazorn, is a retired sheriff who can reward you for your efforts. If he's dead, return to Captain Reynolds with proof of his demise and you will be compensated 100gp."

"Deep in Neverwinter Wood, along the river that flows west toward Neverwinter, is a logging camp which supplies much of the region's lumber. The surrounding cities and towns have an agreement to rotate providing fresh supplies to the camp. The responsibility of doing so falls to Leilon at this time. Wynn has organized a new delivery, but under the circumstances the Lances are looking for capable hands to ensure the supplies arrive safely to the camp. Return to Captain Reynolds with a notice of delivery signed by Tibor Wester to claim a reward of I00 gp."

"Hmm, the first does seem to be more urgent. Have you been to Butterskull ranch before Rowan?"

"Never been to the ranch, it's just on the other side of Neverwinter Wood, and I have a vested interest in these Orcs. Seein' em dead I mean."

"Just out of Tabaxi curiosity, what was the third job post regarding?"

"It was an escort mission with some uppity landowner. Take him from here to his mine northeast of Phandalin. I don't find that kinda company...agreeable? Enjoyable? Pick one a those."

"Though if yeh rather choose that job over one a these, I'm sure it's still available. Since a lot of the help has been gettin' eaten."

"No, I agree with you. Guiding people can be a...hassle."

"I agree, these sounds to be the best jobs of the three. When is the best time to head out? Do any of you need supplies?"

"I do need a stopover at the Lionshead Coster. I feel... inspired to try my hand at a new weapon."

"We need to pay Lyla still and this one wouldn't mind a quick stop at Wynn's which seems like a necessity since one contract refers to him. I can head to Wynn's and see the nature of these supplies we are to bring to the Neverwinter Wood."

"Do we think we have the ability to do both contracts in one trip? If the supplies require a cart, it might be best to make two."

"We can take the cart to Neverwinter and then head to Butterskull on the way back to Leilon."

"That's a good idea actually, sounds like a plan to me. I think I'll join Rowan ... After those encounters in Gnomengarde, I've realized I'm really lacking in the ranged department."

"I will head to Wynn's Wares and see about these supplies for the camp. Shall we meet back at the Sword?"

"Good idea, Red. We'll pay our tab and get out to the open road before high noon."

"That sounds good. Enjoy your weapon shopping."

Storm heads off towards Wynn's Wares.

"Well, seeing as all avenues are covered, I will wander around town for a bit. Where shall we meet after our respective errands are complete? The usual tavern?"

"Storm suggested the Sword, so let's reconvene there before noon. Make sure you stay away from that alley."

Cain heads out to the Lionshead

"So Cain, what yeh thinkin' of buyin' with yer newfound riches?"

"Ah right, he did mention something about paying the bill. That will work for this one."

As Cain walks with Rowan to the Lionshield, he begins to strike up a conversation.

"So, looking to try a new weapon? From what I've seen, you're a pretty deadly shot with that thing. In fact, it's the reason why I'm coming, to get something I can use in case we find ourselves at a distance."

"What are you thinking of wielding?"

"Thinkin' of goin' back to my roots. Classic longbow. This here bowgun is somethin' I picked up only a few years ago, been meanin' to tinker around with it, see if I can get a faster load time but... hard to find time these days. What're yeh lookin for yerself?"

"Deadly and long ranged, I like the sounds of that. Me, I've never used a bow and don't think I'll be starting any time soon. After Govath lended me those daggers during our encounter with the mimics, I've been thinking of picking up a set of throwing knives. I've always been good at chucking things." he laughs.

"Yer quite a good fighter yerself, impressive for a...clerk? Jus' good survival instincts or yeh trained before?"

"A clerk!? I work in shipping ... were you not listening when I was explaining how all of this --" he waves his hands over his face "-- happened?"

"But moving cargo is a dangerous business on the open roads away from guarded towns and cities, you learn a few things about self defense and survival for sure. "

"My mistake, I reckon I hear shipping and think paperwork. So yer more of a travelling bodyguard for merchandise? Looks like our current job is right up yer alley."

"More the logistics person on the trip. We'd have hired guards and freelancers to do the dirty work, but everyone had to be prepared regardless. But this new contract is certainly in my area of expertise."

Cain pauses for a second, contemplating if he should ask. He decides to and says, "Speaking of contracts, what's the deal with what you said earlier, about killing orcs. I hate orcs as much as the next guy, but to actively seek and destroy seems to imply some history with them."

"They're a big threat back home. Years ago when I was a Reav.... hunter, we dealt with any orcs in the High Forest. I have a knack for killin'em. Anywho, I've been meanin' to ask yeh, and don't think I been snoopin', but I noticed you carryin a magical trinket..."

Cain abruptly stops walking and turns to Rowan, "Sorry, let's back up a second. Did you just say --" and in a whispered voice "reaver?"

"Is that why you're so awkward around them? Because you know them? ..."

Thoughts of realization race through Cain's head, "That's why you disguise yourself here ... And probably why you've been hanging out in Leilon, you've been following them, haven't you?"

"And I didn't want to bring it up at the tent, and I don't know if the others noticed, but what's happening with your eye? There's a lot you've been secretive about."

"I mean ... Are you even a --" Cain then proceeds to open hand slap the air above disguised Rowan's head, where his Firbolg head would be.

Rowan leans back and Cain's strike misses completely. He looks confused a second, then flashes his signature sideways grin.

"Oh sorry, I mistranslated. Yeh see Firbolgs don't have names. Fer anything. Back home I ain't Rowan or Ruggo or Rhododendron. But once yeh get out into society it's hard to make yer way without one. I reckon a closer approximation to the word I was lookin' for would be Shearer, but hunter is the function. I don't know the Reavers here though. Yeh have quite the imagination."

"And what's wrong with my eye?"

1d20 (1) + 2 = 3
Cain gauges Rowan's honesty.

"Alright, well I suppose there's no reason not to trust you. Once you for battle with someone, you've become more than just strangers."

Cain continues the walk to the shop

"Your eye, one of them is darker than the other. I don't remember them being so mismatched, have you looked in the mirror at all this morning?"

Rowan's face looks concerned.

"That's...interesting. I didn't choose that detail when I disguised..."

His voice drops quieter, "I made a decision today. Somethin' a long time comin' Chose a path I've been avoiding since I left the High Forest. I reckon the eye is a symbol of that."

"If I ask, are you even going to explain?"

"I'm still waitin' to hear about that trinket you've been hidin'."

"Not hiding, just haven't had a use for it, but if you're so curious."

Cain reaches into his pocket and takes out a gold coin and flips, catching it.

"When you travel around, you meet a lot of people. A lot of shady ones too you can imagine, at the various pit stops along the way."

"Anyway, this one half elf was scamming the more innocent travellers with simple coin flip bets. Except, this one is embued with magic such that it always lands tail side up."

"Fortunately for me, he wasn't the brightest and I bet him half our goods (we were shipping luxury robes if I recall) for anything on him. He agreed."

" A simple heads I win, tails you lose wordplay later and I now have this. So if you ever need to bet, let me know." Cain laughs

Rowan shakes his head smiling. "Bet that's mighty useful."

They continue walking in silence until Rowan pipes up. "Outta cigars too. Gonna have to make more, don't trust anyone fer that anymore..."

"I've never smoked, but I've shipped them before. The high quality ones are pretty expensive, so I can imagine what sort of knockoffs you could find in a smaller place like Leilon. "

"A travelling merchant promised me one that'd help me relax, had saved it till our last night after our success with the Gnomes. Didn't realize till after we were almost eaten he'd laced it with slumberweed. Could've cost us our lives."

Cain chuckles, "Well, I suppose he wasn't lying. Good thing you waited to use it. "

Ruggo leads to the door of a medium-sized building just down the road from the barracks. You notice a wooden sign hanging outside that is cut into the shape of a shield, and a blue lion is painted upon it.

As you enter, you notice the place has several other customers wandering about, examining various pieces of armour displayed on mannequins and weapons hung up on racks. A Dwarf behind the counter, dressed in a blacksmith's apron, takes notice of you both as you walk in and addresses you with a boisterous, deep voice.

"New customers! Good mornin', and a hearty welcome to the Lionshield Coster! I trust yeh'll find whatever yeh need, at fair price and top-notch quality - and if there's anythin' yeh need helpin' with, yeh just come fetch ol' Fomner and I'll set yeh straight!"

Rowan unhooks the crossbow from his back and a full pack of 20 bolts, setting them on the counter.

"Lookin' to do a little barterin'. I reckon I won't get full price for a used piece of equipment, but it's tip top shape. Hopin' yeh carry a longbow and fully stocked quiver for it. I'll pay the difference o'course."

"A fine piece indeed, this one - longbows, you say? Why, we've got ones that'd make the Elves of the High Forest covet 'em! I'd be happy teh knock off half the price in exchange fer this here crossbow, and I'll trade the quiver'a bolts for the quiver'a arrows directly, leaving yer cost at twenty-five gold pieces total. How's that sound to yeh?"

"Sounds jus' swell good sir. A pleasure..." Rowan hands the man 25 gold pieces. He takes the bow and tests the torque. "Jus' swell indeed."

Cain browses the store until he finds a set of throwing daggers. Simple and effective. He gathers six of them and heads to the counter.

"Nice shop you have here, I'll be buying his set of throwing daggers if you don't mind. "

He places 12 gold pieces on the counter.

"Ah, and you won't find better ones anywhere yeh look along the entire Sword Coast, I guarantee yeh! Balanced and crafted by me own hands, they were, from the purest and lightest steel. They'll fly swift as the wind, they will. Many thanks for yer patronage!"

"Come to think of it, I reckon I'm gonna be huntin' quite a bit the next few days. Might I pick up another quiverfull?"

"Aye, we can stock yeh with arrows 'til they're comin' out yer ears, laddie! A bundle'a twenty will run yeh a single gold piece, and I challenge yeh t'find a better price from any other merchant this side'a Yartar!"

Rowan's eyebrows raise I'm impressed surprise. "Single gold, yeh don't say! I will take that bundle off yer hands, mate. Thankee much. You'll be seein' me around here in the future that's forsure."

He tips his hat and heads out the door with his newfound goods.

Cain and Ruggo make their way back to The Sword of Leilon, waiting outside the door for a bit to enjoy the pleasant, cool summer day. After a while, Govath arrives, followed by Storm. The four of you make your way inside and pay a grateful Lyla the 3sp each that you owe for the night's stay.

As you prepare to leave, Lyla informs you apologetically that due to the declining number of patrons staying at the Sword, it's likely they'll have to revoke the discount for your further stays.

Rowan tips her a gold with a wink and a smile. "Aw don't worry bout that, Lyla. You know this little piece of paradise is worth ten fold."

Storm pays Lyla with a grateful thank you and heads outside.

"Wynn has prepared a cart of supplies and food for the logging camp in Neverwinter Wood. His son is just finishing hitching up their ox, Winnifred so she's ready to go when we are. This one promised to bring back Winnifred in healthy condition so let us keep good care of her on our journey."

Patting down his gear and checking straps... "Shall we begin our next adventure?"

Having paid and thanked Lyla for the room Govath returns to the group outside. "I have also found out about a possibly interesting detour that we can make along the High Road that could be dangerous but offer great reward. Also, some details, or rather lack of details, about our alley we so unknowingly walked into last night."

"By this detour, do yeh happen to know if an ox drawn cart could traverse it?"

"Hmm, we would have to see when we get there. It would involve going off road to the coast. I do not know what to expect upon arriving at the destination however."

"And this information about the alley sounds very interesting...do tell!"

"Remember I did say lack there of. I was speaking to a fellow down by the docks, an information broker of sorts. When I brought up the alley to see what was know, he looked visibly afraid. Now his sort are not ones to be afraid of much, which is telling in and of itself."

"The lances, as we already know, will have nothing to do with what goes on down there."

"He said that what goes on there is not the doing of any of the normal townsfolk, almost as if something or someone else has moved into that area and made it its home."

"And the part that makes it very interesting, none have returned alive, that have ventured down there."

"Are we the first to return alive? I get a feelin' that corpse was the warnin' for anyone that wants a closer looksee. We prolly would be among the dead if we went any further."

"It is possible, although we did not venture deep into the alley. There must be more horrors further in."

"There is only one way to find out. The things you heard from the docks lines up with the things this one has heard as well. I think it's safe to say something sinister is happening there. And there's only one way to find out!

In regards to the detour to the coast, what sort of thing are you expecting to find there? What did you learn?"

"Seems to me, the safest route would be to take the highroad directly to Neverwinter, stay the night there and then head along the river into the woods. What sort of reward would a detour provide?"

"There is an old lighthouse about a day north that is no longer in service. However a few travellers noticed it one night all lit up. This can pose a problem to sailors unfamiliar with the area running their ship aground, and if a group is using this to lure unknowing cargo ships to their demise I think they need to be stopped."

"Interesting ... a day north from Leilon, or from Neverwinter? It would certainly be a little bit of a challenge hiding a cart full of goods, but I nothing that isn't impossible, especially for a professional shipper such as myself. What exactly is in it for us, if we were to investigate the lighthouse?"

"From Leilon, so not far from where we are currently. And in regards to the cart, I would expect nothing less from our own experienced goods merchant."

"Well we help the sailors by making their passage safer, and should there be a stock pile of goods collected, then it should do in paying us for our service."

"Stolen goods though ... but if you believe its worth it, I'd be open to having a look. What do you two think?" Cain asks Rowan and Storm.

"That actually sounds like it'd work. I never thought t'spend an overnight in Neverwinter fer this, but come teh think of it now I reckon it's a good plan."

"As long as ol' Winny can make the journey to the coast, it would be worth investigating. Having come here by ship from Chult, the original destination was to be Neverwinter for myself. But the Dragon rumors on the docks in Leilon kept me there that day. If there are pirates or brigands using the lighthouse to crash or raid ships, than I wonder what would have happened had this one stayed aboard the Compass Rose. I hope the ship made it to Neverwinter afterall...

Let us check out the lighthouse on our way to Neverwinter."

"Besides, this one could use a little more coin...I am running low again. I found a few whimsical wares at Wynns' again. This one needs to stop going in there." Storm chuckles and pats his sad looking coin pouch which looks extremely slim.

"Come, let us retrieve the cart and be on our way."

Storm leads them to Wynns' Wares, to Winnifred, and beyond!

"If that is decided, then let us be on our way. No one required anything else right?"

Rowan unhooks his new longbow and pats it, testing the string tension. "Rarin' to break this beaut in."

"It is good to be going on another adventure with you all. May Ubtao's blessing be upon us again!"

"Here's hoping to no rain this time." Cain follows Storm

"...You know...in the Jungles, we call the rain a blessing of Ubtao. Maybe the rain has been my fault. Oops."

"Naw, I'm with yeh, Red. Rain is a good thing."

The four of you make your way to Wynn's Wares, where Wyliam has finished yoking Winnifred to the wagon. He's clearly expecting you and gives you a nod as you load your own things onto the back and climb aboard.

Cain hops up to the front of the wagon, grabbing the reins. After making sure you're all aboard, he coaxes Winnifred forward, and you make your way to the northern entrance of town, passing through to the High Road. The lovely weather and warmth of noon have you in excellent spirits as you pass by other travellers making their way between Neverwinter and Leilon with a smile and a wave. It's not the fastest way to travel, but it's nice to be able to rest your legs for a change. Govath keeps an eye out for the mysteriously-active lighthouse as you ride along, thankful for the clear day and the slight elevation of the High Road above the coastline. Just as you pull off to the side of the road to break for dinner, its shape can be faintly made out to your west, a mere pinprick at this distance, but stark in contrast to the sea beyond.

Rowan squints into the distance. "Looks kinda ominous."

Storm disembarks after riding on the cart for a little while. Patting ol'Winny he begins to sort out a spot for the campfire.

"As Govath has learned, it should not be active anymore. Let us watch it tonight and see if it is lit."

"Sounds like a fine plan."

"Ruggo, will you hunt tonight? I have a favor to ask of you once camp and dinner is prepared."

Dropping his pack into the cart and securing his new quiver on his back, Rowan turns to Storm of Fire.

"Jus' about to head out on a hunt."

"Just a quick question about this lighthouse before we begin camping chores, who exactly told you about it and why hasn't Leilon or Neverwinter investigated before? It's not exactly that off the beaten path."

"The lighthouse is probably still within the jurisdiction of Leilon. They can't spare the Lance's to investigate their own city's problem of the Manyclaws Alley. They must know about the lighthouse but cannot look into it. I bet if we fix the problem, if there is a problem, the Captain may reward us."

"I imagine Storm is right in that the Lances have their hands full right now. But it also takes a certain type of individual to put lighthouse and pillage ships together. I will leave the rest of the who to your imagination. All I can say is we will need to proceed cautiously."

"Yeh gonna wait till I'm back with game to ask me that favour, Red?"

"Well if you have a moment before heading out...can you cast your magic and see if you find a magical presence on me?"

"I can uh... differentiate between different magical things, heh."

"Oh sorry, I did not know if my hat would interfere with the spell. Well, do you see anything?"

"Gettin' to it. I think yeh need a couple more spins. Wanna be thorough." Ruggo has the most selfserious look on his face as he says it.

Ruggo doesn't notice any unusual magical presence, other than those he is already familiar with.

"Not seein' anything, mate. Is that what yer expectin'?"

"Yes I was just curious. Picked up a few things from Wynn's, but you never know where he gets his things from. Can never be too sure. This one will get started on the fire, kla'kalli Ruggo."

"Kla...kalli..." and Ruggo heads off to hunt.

Hunting near a well-travelled road is more difficult than in the wilderness, as game has learned to keep its distance. This, in addition to your adjusting to a new weapon, makes the hunt more challenging than normal.

1d20 (9) + 6 = 15
Ruggo tries to get as far away from the road as he can, looking for game but also any plants he can use for cigars.

You're a fairly quick learner, and after a couple of misses, you manage to hit a couple of small birds flitting from tree to tree in an area off the High Road. You supplement the mediocre gain of meat with some berries and nuts you manage to find, as well as enough appropriate leaves to keep your cigar supply going for a couple of days. You won't quite be making up for the rations consumed earlier in the day, but at least you'll have a fine dinner.

Each party member gets: 1 Ration, 1 Water

1d20 (11) + 1 = 12
Seeing Ruggo go off, Govath collects some wood.

Seeing Rowan head out on the hunt, Cain catches Govath before his trip and waves Storm over

"Listen, I'm not one to waste time gossiping, but something is off with Rowan. He was telling me about his life back at home, and almost said he used to be a reaver, or at least it sounded like it before correcting himself. I poked him about it and he chalked it up to a translation mistake."

"He hasn't given me reason to not trust him these last few days, so I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt, but just thought you two should know."

"Also, I dont know if you noticed his eye is a different colour ... He said he figured it was a symbolic change because last night he choose a path he's been avoiding since leaving his home. Of course, he was just as vague as always and didn't elaborate."

Storm stops working and listens to Cain.

"Rowan is a very awkward when it comes to attention and seems to hide much when asked. Though I do not doubt his heart or intentions. Maybe he is on the run from something like yourself.

Those his connection with the Reavers is growing more apparent if he let slip that piece of info accidentally. Perhaps next time we seen them, which I do not wish for, we should indirectly ask them what they think of Firbolgs.

I did notice his eye but didn't want to ask. He doesn't like to talk about himself so I figured maybe it was part of his human disguise though I did notice his Firbolg self still maintains it.

Either way, he does good work and fights hard. This one does not worry of bad intentions from him. He does what he does and does it well. But thanks for letting us know, maybe we should see what else he lets slip."

"That is all true, but who does not have a secret or two. Let up hope that this reaver business does not lead to trouble down the road. I have heard from my asking around that they are a group that will kill first and completely skip the asking of questions. I best go find that wood now so we can have a good fire ready to cook whatever Ruggo finds."

Govath manages to collect a modest pile of wood that should suffice to keep the fire going for dinner and a while afterward. The four of you opt to wait until it gets darker to light it so that you can enjoy its warmth before sleeping. Ruggo quietly prepares the birds and divides up the berries and nuts, and you enjoy your first meal of your new task along the side of the High Road.

While Storm is eating, he pulls a few things out of his bag to show the group.

"Look at these weirdly, whimsical, wares of Wynn that I was able to barter off his collection."

Storm places a small model of a windmill with a strange architecture. "Wynn got this off a wanderer who says the design is from a far off land and the design is certainly nothing I have ever seen. Have any of you in your travels?" He gives a gentle spin of the windmill blades, and it's clear by how they're weighted that they will continue spinning for a very long time unless purposely stopped.

Placing it next to him to spin, he pulls out another very strange object. It's a construct of a bulbous, hideous looking creature. It has three arms and a large maw in the center facing upwards. Storm retrieves a copper piece from his pouch which looks like one of very few coins in there. He then places it on the indentations of one of the claws and you watch the contraption move and the beast "eats" the coin. The coin clanks into its body and settles with whatever else is inside.

"It's some strange coin bank or something. Wynn hasn't figured out how to retrieve the coins so that's a copper piece this one won't be getting back any time soon. Have any of you seen a monster like this before?"

Rowan moves closer to inspect both objects.

"I ain't seen anythin' like either of em. Have yeh tried puttin' yer finger in the mouth?"

"Haven't had much time, but I will inspect it tonight. Speaking of which, keep your bird bones."

"Interesting contraptions for sure. This monster in particular is frightening, I hope this isn't something we'll have to face in our travels."

"I wonder the riches this one has inside ... " Cain shakes the monsterbank

You hear a small group of coins bouncing around, maybe four or five total.

"Hm, maybe not." he hands it back to Storm.

1d20 (16) - 1 = 15

You turn the device over in your hands a few times, running your hands along the wood-and-metal exterior until eventually your fingers rest over a portion of the creature's belly that feels slightly different in texture than the rest. You probe the area a little further, applying pressure until you hear a soft click. Suddenly, the interlocking teeth open up and you feel the release of a spring mechanism within, and five copper pieces erupt from the maw, showering all around you. After a few seconds, the interlocking teeth slide back into place, sealing the interior once more.

"Now is that not an interesting contraption. Very well made indeed. Looks as if you have your copper back Storm, and some extra to spend at his shop."

Ruggo throws another log on the fire..

"What're we gonna do fer watch tonight. Im kinda eager to redeem m'self, and set yer minds at ease about my capabilities."

"Well, you're welcome to if you really feel the need. I can take the other watch, since its about my rotation. Which slot do you prefer?"

"I'll take second this time if yeh don't object. Or have two of us up at once each shift?"

"We don't need two on watch. You can take the first and I'll take the second."

Ruggo lights up one of his freshly rolled cigars and nods, "As yeh want."

*Storm spends some time working out the bones of the bird into his Tome before sleeping. *

As darkness falls and the fire begins to shrink to embers, three of you set up your bedrolls and fall asleep easily, catching glimpses of the stars between the moving clouds above as you doze off. Ruggo sits by the fire, his vision extending farther in the darkness than it did before, determined to prove himself a capable watch this time around.

1d20 (4) + 4 = 8
Ruggo watches the lighthouse as his ears are perked for nearby sounds of movement.

As you peer down to the shore, you do notice a faint light emanating from the direction of the lighthouse. What's far more noticeable, however, are distant flashes of lightning over the open waters beyond. You think it a little strange that the weather could be so dramatically different a mere ten to fifteen miles away, but the wind seems to be blowing southwest so you're not overly concerned.

The High Road is well-travelled and generally quite safe, so you spend most of your time with your eyes on the eastern skies for any signs of a White Dragon. However, your hours pass without sighting or other incident.

Ruggo extinguishes the rest of his cigar and rouses Cain. "Quiet night." he whispers. "Saw a storm over the water. Lighthouse is definitely bein' used. Was wonderin' if we shoulda been approachin it by dark of night."

Cain stretches and gets up

"I suppose that could have been an option, but we'd have likely walked into a guarded stronghold, and no doubt they'd have scouts out."

"Anyway, have a good sleep "

Cain posts up on a rock so he can have a good view of the lighthouse and surrounding areas of the High Road.

1d20 (13) + 4 = 17

"G'night." Rowan unpacks his bedroll and reclines close to the fire, dozing off in no time.

Cain also observes the lightning in the distance, which seems to subside shortly after his watch begins. Around the same time, the dim light at the lighthouse fades away. The hours pass, but no sound or sight gives you any cause to worry, and as dawn comes around, one-by-one the party wakes up.

9th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

As you awake, you clouds beginning to gather overhead, and get the feeling you're in for yet another wet day. Strange, Ruggo and Cain think, since the wind should have been blowing the storm you observed the night before away from you - perhaps the gods really are playing tricks on you after all.

Ruggo packs up before any rain can get to his things.

"Must be some kinda road towards the lighthouse. We plannin' to drive the cart all the way?"

"I would like to leave it somewhere as we will need to watch our backs during our approach. We should keep our eyes open for a natural hiding place for the cart as we travel to the lighthouse."

"We would often use small cave outcrops to park a cart, using branches and other foliage to create a camouflage cover. Give the ox enough food, and it'll stay put and quiet."

"This one really needs to stop asking for Ubtao's blessing."

Storm bundles up in anticipation for the rain.

Cain packs his gear, preparing for yet another rainy day.

"Do you find it strange that the winds were blowing in the opposite direction last night, yet the storm that formed has come over us?"

"Strikes me as a tadbit funny, yeah. That storm in general seemed...off. When I woke yeh the wind was heading southwest forsure."

"Makes you wonder if there's some foul magic at play ... use the lighthouse and winds to blow passing ships into the coast. Anyway, we'll just have to be careful either way. I'm ready to head out when everyone else is."

Cain prepares the Ox and cart for the day's trip.

The clouds above grow ever-darker and more threatening as you go, but the rain seems to hold off as you cut your way off the High Road, heading west towards the shore. Search though you might, whatever path may have once connected the High Road to this lighthouse is long gone. Winnifred and the wagon are both sturdy, however, so your progress is not dramatically slowed - and after about four hours of travel, you find yourself near the edge of a cliff which overlooks the beach below. About two-hundred feet ahead of you, just above eye-level, you see a large outcropping of rock almost completely surrounded by water, atop which is a stone building from which the lighthouse tower rises. You can faintly make out a narrow causeway connecting the outcropping and the beach, but it appears to be completely submerged in water at the moment, suggesting you have arrived at high tide.

Glancing over the edge of the cliff to the beach below, something immediately catches your eye. Pacing back and forth along the beach below is what appears to be a massive crab, easily fifteen feet wide from claw to claw. Casting your eyes a little south of your position, you do notice that a set of stairs has been hewn into the cliffside, leading down to the water's edge.

"We should find a place to hide outta sight from the lighthouse and the path we came from."

"Ruggo, you're a man of the wild. This one has to travelled the coast much to know, but when will the tide be low enough for us to traverse the other side?"

1d20 (3) + 1 = 4

Despite Storm's words, Ruggo's experience lies primarily inland, not near the coast at all. Tidal patterns are not his specialty, and it's not something they teach young Firbolgs in his forest clan.

"Can't help yeh there, mate. Not a seafarin' man m'self I'm afraid."

"Well first things first, we need to find somewhere to park and hide our cargo while we wait for the tide to lower. Look for any small outcroppings and overhangs. Stay away from large caves though, I have some bad stories to share about that ..."

2d20kh1 (3, 12) + 4 = 16
Cain uses his experience moving cargo on dangerous roads to find a place to park their cart. Rowan helps, of course.

There's not a ton of cover atop the cliff you're standing on, but you find a small cluster of trees and bushes nearby which you figure you could tie Winnifred to and let her graze. It doesn't fully mask the wagon's presence, but it's clear that not many stray from the High Road to come out this way, since you were unable to find any trodden path to follow yourselves.

After the cart has been tucked away best it can, Govath takes a look at the surrounding area.

"Perhaps this storm will give us some good cover and mask our presence should an opportunity arise to make our way to the lighthouse.

As it stands, we have time to kill waiting for the tide to go out. Anyone care to explore the area?"

Cain takes some loose branches and foliage and covers the cart as best he can, making clear note of any landmarks that would help them find their way back to it when they return.

After wrapping up Cain says, "We may as well get a lay of the land for sure."

"This one has always been a fan of seafood. That giant crab on the beach looks tasty..."

"That'll feed a village for a week. Might be us bein' eaten instead I reckon. Lookit the size of its claws!"

"Well...just throwing it out there that I would not be opposed to helping you hunt it. Well, let's have a look around while we wait for the tide to go down."

"We can all hunt that thing once we deal with whatever's happenin' here. Keep an eye on that lighthouse for movement. Do yeh reckon whoever lights it up at night leaves every morning, or sticks around inside?"

"It would be rather inconvenient if they had to travel out there every night. Their best odds for trapping ships would be manning it constantly. It is also a good defensive position. Only one way in our out by land, and a view of any ships approaching."

"Certainly. The would only need to leave for supplies if any. They are probably sleeping inside the tower right now. If we can get across before the night, we could catch them off guard. Should one of us stake out the tower while the others scout around? See if there's any movement or activity before we head across?"

"We would have a rather difficult time crossing with the tide being in. If the tide goes out before nightfall, I agree that would be an opportune time to cross."

"Well now hold yer horses a minute. If we cross in daylight jus' needs to be one guy looking out at us crossin' and all advantage of surprise is lost. We need cover of night."

"You know, there might not be an obvious route to this lighthouse, but its not like the lighthouse itself is that hidden. If these bandits are carting loads of ship cargo to wherever they store it, how do you figure they move it? Those are some very steep rocks ... maybe they have another method of accessing the tower?"

"Of course, maybe the bandits in the lighthouse have nothing to do with the actual cargo and are only there to distract the passing ships into the rocks and another group is responsible for the thieving."

"Hmm, mayhaps there's a cave system that goes under the tower. Let's have a looksee."

2d20kh1 (5, 5) + 1 = 6

The four of you take some time examining the area at the top of the cliff. It's relatively flat, mostly grassy, and there are patches of trees and bushes scattered about, but certainly no cave openings or tunnels to be found. Nothing interesting catches your eye as you search.

"Alright, I feel fairly confident we'dve found anythin' up here. Movin' on, mates?"

You begin to make your way down the stairs to the beach. As you clear the rock wall and make it down to the water's edge, you glance to the right at the giant crab that was meandering around the beach. To your surprise, it is turned directly toward you. It has a single claw raised above its head, and is swinging it side-to-side, in a gesture that looks an awful lot like a wave.

"Uh, do yeh still feel it's right to eat somethin' that'll wave at yeh?"

"Only if it tries to kill you. Maybe it's just flexing it's claw muscles for the kill. Should we...go...to it?"

"I reckon I could try talkin' to it. What would I even say?"

"I like Storms idea. If it tries to kill us, then dinner. Otherwise it may be possible that it has some form of intelligence."

"Ahkay, I'm gonna see if it's friendly. Stay 30 feet behind me so we don't spook it."

Ruggo walks towards the crab with hands out showing them empty with no weapons drawn.

"Hey there big guy. I'm a friend..."

1d20 (15) + 5 = 20

As you begin to approach, the crab lowers its mighty claw. To your surprise, its mouth opens, and from it flows words in flawless Common, shouted over the crashing waves beside you.

"Well-met, travellers! I confess I was beginning to lose hope that anyone would come this way. My name is Nigel, and I'm absolutely delighted to make your acquaintance!"

Ruggo stops in his tracks aghast. "This new path must be more powerful than I thought....I can understand a crab clear as crystal!" He says to himself.

"Uh, nice teh meecha, Nigel. M'names Ruggo."

Govath, with a very surprised look on his face says to Cain and Storm.

" Well I was not expecting that."

"I cannot tell you what a pleasure, what an unparalleled pleasure it is to see the four of you fine gentlemen. The gloomy weather had certainly done a number on my spirits this morning, but its as though a ray of sunshine has pierced the shadowy veil to lift my weary heart to new heights. Might I be granted the privilege of introductions to your three companions back there? (Shouting past Ruggo) Come, come! Nothing to be afraid of!"

The creature lifts its massive claw once again, this time in a beckoning motion to the three of you standing at a distance behind Ruggo.

Storm whispers to his companions.

"I don't trust it."

"Niether ..." Cain whispers back "... it's not natural for a creature like that to speak, and to be of that size. There is clearly some magics at work here, first with the unnatural weather formation and now this. Just be on your guard."

"Well, why not." Govath grins at his companions and approaches. Once beside Ruggo he casually rests his hands in front of him on his sword hilt. "My name is Govath."

Storm follows behind Govath, still keeping a cautious eye on the flanks. Upon reaching the crab he bows.

"Greetings. This one is called Storm of Fire of the Boundless Jungle clan."

As his companions approach and reply to the crab realization dawns on Ruggo's face.

"Ah, you can all hear him."

"Worried about your sanity? After that mushroom wine from the gnomes, perhaps we all should be."

"It's just I can usually talk to animals...they just never replied before."

Cain follows Storm, last to approach the crab. He keeps an eye out towards the lighthouse to see if he can spot anyone watching them from above them.

"My name's Cain ... how does creature like you come to learn how to speak common?"

"Ah, yes, I do beg your pardon - I often forget that I am more...talkative...than my kin!"

Nigel's eyes close and he makes a sound that you interpret as a chuckle - some weird combination of stuttered hissing and clicking - before continuing.

"As it happens, the explanation of this unusual phenomenon makes for a good introduction to why I am so delighted to see you all. Cain, Govath, Storm of Fire, and of course, Ruggo - it is a pleasure to meet you all. Would the four of you be willing to indulge old Nigel in both a tale and a request? I am confident that I can offer compensation which would make it worth your while!"

"We're actually here on other, time sensitive business regarding that lighthouse." he points up to the cliff. "Seeing as you're likely familiar with the surrounding area, if you could help us with our investigation we'd be open to hearing your request?"

Cain turns to his companions and raises his eyebrow as if to ask what do you think?

Ruggo nods to Cain. "If it's safe to be out here in the open. We don't want anyone lookin' down from there to see us."

"We have time to spare, please do, tell us you tale."

Nigel looks about as quizzical as a giant crab is able, bringing up one claw and rubbing it against the top of his head.

"Business at the lighthouse, you say? Forgive me, travellers, but might I inquire into the nature of your business? I suspect there may be some overlap in our desires, unless I am severely mistaken."

"Our business there is for the betterment of common folk. Stopping any wrong doing by those who have taken up residence in the lighthouse. Or at least that is what we go to investigate."

"Then it seems indeed that our purposes cross. For you see, I too have business with the current occupant of the lighthouse. But alas, it is probably best that I start from the beginning.

You see, my mistress, Miraal, took up residence in the lighthouse a couple of centuries ago. As I understand it, she was a bit of a recluse, just looking for a place to live out her days undisturbed. Except I suppose she got lonely, because about eighty years ago, she used her magic to grant me intelligence beyond my species, and we have been companions ever since.

That is, until a month or two ago, when a crazed Half-Orc burst through the doors of our quiet little home yelling about 'reclaiming the shrine of Talos' or some such thing. My mistress bid me to flee, but stood her ground against the feral brute. I managed to scramble my way out the door, but not before hearing a crack of thunder and a scream of agony - I knew in that instant that my one and only friendship had been brought to an abrupt end.

I fled to a nearby cave, unsure of what future lay ahead of me. For what purpose have I without my mistress? What existence can there be for an unusually intelligent crab? Alas, I was not alone with my thoughts for long, for much to my surprise, I saw Miraal crawling her way after me into the cave's entrance. But not in body - no, indeed not. Only her twisted, groaning spirit clawed its way into that dark recess that fateful night. 'Mistress', said I, with horror at the sight before me. 'Why are you not at peace?'

'The conch!', she replied, with voice full of anger and anguish in equal measure. 'He has taken the conch!'"

"You see, Mistress Miraal was a practitioner of the arcane, and had a very special conch shell which she always had on hand when performing her magic. I admit, such mysteries are beyond my understanding, but as near as I could comprehend her attempts to explain, the conch helped to focus her arcane power. Never have I seen her treat another object with such reverence.

Travellers, what followed was a fit of rage so terrifying that I am ashamed to admit I fled from my lifelong companion, fearing for my own safety. Yet I cannot bring myself to leave this place until I know that her spirit has been put to rest. Many long days and nights have I watched and waited, hoping that someone might come along with the strength and ability to aid in retrieving the conch and returning it to Mistress Miraal.

But never fear - I understand that such services do not come for free, and thus the aforementioned compensation comes into play. For you see, since the Half-Orc took possession of the tower, it has lit at every low tide, without fail - and somehow, it always seems to storm while the lighthouse is lit. Several small ships have fallen victim to the false promise of safety, and I have carefully scouted each. I say 'carefully', for you see, Daggermaw and her companions swim in those waters, and I would prefer my eventual demise not be between the teeth of a shark. Each ship contains things which I believe travellers like yourselves would find valuable, and if you help me lay my mistress to rest, you have my word that I will brave the beasts to retrieve one of these treasures for you.

Now, I know that is much to take in! What say you, my new friends - will you help old Nigel out?"

Storm listens the crab's story, taking in the details and mutters... "...just wanted seafood..."

Storm slapa Ruggo and Govath on the back. "You guys got this!"

*He continues to watch the surroundings for danger. *

Ruggo scratches his beard in thought.

"So it's jus one half-Orc then? That's some pretty good news fer us, eh fellas?"

"A half-orc that was able to deal with a well versed practitioner of the arcane arts. Although it does indeed seem better than facing a whole band of mercenaries which I was expecting."

"I am for it. Seems the reward is worth the risk, and we still have two more fine paying jobs to complete after this detour."

Turning back to the crab.

"Can you tell us any of the layout of the lighthouse. Are there any other entrances apart from the submerged one we see in front of us?"

"Unfortunately, the causeway you see before you is the only way to access the lighthouse. It should be perfectly crossable come low tide, in the next five hours or so.

As for the building itself, it's fairly straightforward - once you ascend the stairs and enter the double doors, you'll find yourself in the foyer. To your left is the room with the shrine which our Half-Orc adversary has revealed as being dedicated to Talos, and to your right are the stairs to the lighthouse tower, and well as a small living space.

However..."

The giant crab rubs its massive claws together nervously for a moment before continuing.

"I'm afraid there is one other challenge you will face. You see, in the time since my mistress perished, it seems that a group of very aggressive Harpies have made their home in the building's courtyard. More than once have I had to dive into the sea to avoid their aggression. Once you cross the causeway, I imagine you will catch their attention and perhaps be viewed as an easy meal."

At the mention of harpies Ruggo's sideways smile grows wide. "That so? Well we've some experience with those buggers. A little archery practice is more than welcomed."

Nigel relaxes considerably at your confidence about the situation.

"Then it appears I am even more fortunate than I had initially realized, now that the four of you have arrived!"

"This time let us wear ear plugs so we aren't hindered by their music. Storm chuckles."

"That's not a bad idea."

"It looks like we have a about five hours to kill, what do you all suggest we do in the meantime? Unless of course ...", Cain turns to Nigel, "... you take passengers?"

Govath rubs his beard. "Strangely enough I would not mind hearing that siren song again, although I certainly would not cherish walking into the ocean. Ear plugs it is."

"Passengers? Hmm...well, I suppose I could carry one of you at a time, if your grip is strong. It would be slow-going, and you'd have to climb your way up the rock wall. Of course, if the harpies spot you clambering up the wall, I'm not sure how well you'd be able to defend yourselves against an assault. Nonetheless, the four of you are more experienced in these things than I! I will defer to what course of action you decide it best."

"I'm not inclined to go for that idea to be honest. But if the rest o'ya wanna, I can back yeh up with some cover fire."

"Nigel, tell us about the half-orc. By the sounds of your tale he came alone. What weapons did he carry or would you describe him as an arcane user such as your mistress?"

"And the spirit of your mistress, where is the cave that her unrestful spirit resides in? The place where we should return the conch to?"

"The Half-Orc carried no weapon on his person that I noticed during my brief encounter. Given the swiftness with which he extinguished my mistress' life, and the crack of thunder which brought about her demise, I can only assume he has a knack for the arcane himself.

As for my mistress' spirit, as far as I know it continues to reside within the cave over yonder, where I fled that fateful night."

He points one claw west over the water, and you see that a smaller outcropping of rock juts up out of the water, about half way between the beach and the land where the lighthouse resides. The causeway rises higher at that point and seems to carve its way directly through the centre of the stone, though you cannot see the referenced cave from your current position.

"Do we run the risk of crossing paths with Miraal when we walk along the path? I imagine we'd want to avoid any contact with a restless spirit until we've found the conch?"

And turning to the group,, "Is anyone familiar with Talos?"

"I imagine she would let you pass unhindered if made aware of your intention to return the conch to her. Perhaps she may even have further knowledge which would aid you in your confrontation - I have not been able to bear facing her myself since I fled her rage, and I did not have opportunity for inquiries beforehand."

"This one is not proficient in religion or its dieties but maybe there's something hidden in the lore of some old songs or stories I know. I will think upon it unless anyone else is more knowledgeable."

"Miraal's spirit could be worth asking about this Talos."

1d20 (17) + 2 = 19
Storm tries to recall any religious lore about Talos from the stories, poems and songs he knows.

You recall the name Talos, as he is widely recognized across all of Faerun - he is The Storm Lord, god of storms and destruction. Usually depicted as a broad-shouldered, bearded man with a dark eye patch, he demands completely loyalty from his faithful and encourages their destructive behaviour.

Storm searches his memory and stumbles on an old tale.

"There is an old poetic story this one has heard performed before. Not one that I particularly enjoyed so I never learned it. But it told of a band of pirates that raided coastal villages and stole their women. It was comedic and over exaggerated but the deity Talos was mentioned a few times. Only vague memories are left but I do recall the pirates would pillaged and destroy as much as they could in their raids. And in return, Talos would bless them with the power to sink their enemies ships with power thunderstorms. Or something along those lines...

You know, now that I think back upon it, I'm not sure how it was meant to be comedic. Maybe that's why I never adopted it."

"It would seem to make sense that this follower of Talos would be half-orc. They seem to be loose cannons...Storm thinks about Braccus and his mother's mounted head.

This would also align with him claiming the tower as a shrine to Talos. Those storms we've been witnessing can only mean the half-orc is definitely performing some sort of ritual in there."

"Talos seems to be a deity that would be chaotic in nature. I think we have a pretty good picture of what we are dealing with here."

"Also why Nigel heard a crack of thunder ... perhaps some attack spell used by the half-orc."

"I think we pretty much have everything we need to head to the lighthouse once the tide lowers. In the meantime, should we prepare our earplugs?"

Cain pulls out his candle from his backpack.

"Nigel, any other things we should know about the tower? Traps or hidden things you might know about that might aid us in settling your mistress' spirit?"

1d20 (4) + 3 = 7
Storm watches Nigel carefully...

With Govath's help, Cain creates eight small balls of wax and distributes them to everyone.

"Warm them up with your hands to soften them, and then place it into your ear, which should act like a mould. We best wait until we're near the harpies before putting them on though, since we're likely not going to be able to hear each other that well otherwise."

Taking the little balls of wax, Ruggo rubs them in his palms before pressing them tightly into his ears.

"WORK PRETTY GOOD. I CAN'T EVEN HEAR THE OCEAN NOW."

Nigel once again rubs his claws against his head, contemplating Storm's question.

"I think that's about all I can think of. I haven't been inside the lighthouse since my mistress' murder, so I cannot tell what mechanisms our adversary may have prepared in that time. But I feel very confident that Mistress Miraal's only desire is for her conch to be returned to her."

He doesn't appear to be holding any information back, though it's the first time you've really attempted to read a crab's facial expressions.

Storm pats the crab on his head. "Do not fear, we will take care of anything!"

Storm smells his paw and the scent of seafood fills his nose. His stomach grumbles...

He then ponders on his knowledge of the Common language.

"Apologies...we will take care of everything. This one still mixes up those two words."

"Nigel, is there a good place of cover to wait out fer the tide to go out without any half-orc eyes on us?"

Nigel skitters around in a little circle, his beady eyes looking this way and that.

"I suppose you could wait atop the cliff you descended from. Besides that, I am afraid we are on a beach, and the lighthouse towers over us."

The four of you find a place to settle as inconspicuously as possible and wait for the tide to go out. As the hours pass, the sky above grows even darker, and pretty soon the first rain begins to fall. You do your best to stay dry under the shelter of the cliff, but as light rain turns to downpour you eventually accept your fate. Despite the volume of water falling, however, you watch as the water begins to recede, and eventually you make out the causeway above it. You make smalltalk and have some rations for lunch when you are startled by a sudden flash and crack of thunder as a bolt of lightning hits the lighthouse in the distance. Almost immediately afterwards, it lights - and examining it much closer this time, you notice an eerie quality about it. The glow is a greenish-yellow, and appears to intermittently weaken and strengthen in a regular, pulsing pattern.

By the time the tide reaches its lowest, a full-blown storm has brewed over the water to the west, and the sky is regularly filled with vibrant flashes. As several gusts of strong wind blow inland, you can't help but think how grateful you are to not be at sea yourselves on an evening such as this.

Ruggo draws his bow and pushes his hat a little lower on his head.

"Well, there's our path fellas. There's still light out enough to see. Do we wait for cover of darkness or go hunt us some harpies?"

Cain watches in fascination as the bolt of lightning strikes the lighthouse.

"Yeah ... I'm good to go, and don't forget to you put in your ear plugs."

He pauses for a moment, "Do you find it interesting that there's an unnatural storm here, lightning strikes the lighthouse and then the lighthouse turns on? There's obviously a theme going on here, and I wonder if something sinister is only happening at nighttime."

"Might be worth considering securing the landing to the lighthouse from the harpies, and then waiting until morning after the light goes out, to make entrance?"

"A ritual to Talos, The Storm Lord. There is definitely a shrine in there. Or the tower is the shrine."

"Staking it out until morning is a good idea. But first let us secure the grounds like you suggested and see if that is an option. This one can't shake the feeling that that plan sounds easier than it seems..."

"Let us make a stealthy approach. But keep close so we can signal each other if we spot anything. It will be hard to hear anything with these wax plugs plus this raging storm and sea..."

"Alright, I'll take the rear since I kin shoot from a ways. Earplugs in, and hand signals if yeh see anything movin'"

1d20 (5) + 5 = 10

1d20 (16) + 7 = 23
Govath unslings his bow and walks in front of Ruggo as his height won't impede Ruggo's shot.

1d20 (15) + 6 = 21
Storm let's Cain take the front of the line. Puts in his earplugs and keeps a very sharp eye out for movement in the skies and water.

"Alright, I'll take point with Storm. We'll keep our eyes peeled for anything and let you rangers know so we can get a jump on these harpies." Cain puts in his ear plugs and starts heading towards the lighthouse.

1d20 (11) + 6 = 17

The four of you bid Nigel farewell and begin carefully heading across the causeway toward the lighthouse, the earplugs blocking out much of the sound of thunder, rain and raging waves. The ground beneath your feet is slick from the downpour and the earlier tide, so you find yourselves cautiously watching your step as you progress. As you climb the stairs to where your path splits the smaller outcropping of rock, you notice that to your right is a small cavern opening, only a few feet wide. The light emanating from the lighthouse does nothing to penetrate the shadowy interior, so all you can make out is darkness - but a chill runs down each of your spines as you approach, and you have a feeling it's not due to the ocean breeze.

As the two of you peer into the dark cavern, which appears to be no more than fifteen feet wide in any given direction, you see a shimmering, translucent figure hunched over near the back, hands clasping at long, unkempt hair. A spectral face turns toward you with furious anger in its eyes and tears running down its cheeks. Its pointed ears, slightly visible through the hair, suggest Elf blood, but the face shape is unusual, and the webbed hands and feet unlike any Elves the four of you have ever encountered.

The figure's mouth moves in speech which you cannot hear due to the wax in your ears, and then, to your surprise, she drops to the ground and begins clawing her way toward you, each inch seeming to exert all of her strength to accomplish. Her intangible robe and long hair drift behind her as though floating underwater, and you can clearly make out a hole directly through the middle of her chest. Her mouth continues to move as she approaches, face twisted with hatred.

1d20 (12) + 4 = 16

Peering toward the lighthouse, you scan for any sign of the harpies you were warned about. A flash of lightning strikes somewhere over the water, and against the vivid light, you make out the distant silhouettes of two figures perched upon a low wall on the south end of the outcropping.

Ruggo reaches out his hand toward her in peace.

"Mistress Miraal, we've come teh return yer conch!" He exclaims in hope to temper her rage.

The figure stops clawing forward at your words, looks you straight in the eye and mouths more words you are unable to hear.

Taking one plug out of his ear Ruggo says, "Nigel has sent us to kill the half orc and retrieve yer conch to yeh. We're friends here teh help."

Hearing Ruggo taking up conversation with the spectral figure, Govath goes and keeps an eye on the harpies with Cain.

Your earplug out, you speak the words, and what remains of Miraal pauses for a moment, sizing you up with her wild eyes.

When she finally does speak again, it sounds like a distant scream echoing to you through water.

"If ye be lying to me, Firbolg, I swear by the sea that I will drag the lot of ye down to the Ninth Hell with me own hands."

"Nigel has spoken about yeh in the highest regard, and we wish teh right this wrong and bring yeh peace. If yeh would, any warning of what the half orc is capable of will increase our chance of success."

"The filthy Talos-slave uses his god-given gifts to lure ships into the shallows just to appease the deity's lust for destruction. I should've known better than to choose an abandoned shrine for me home! Now the disgusting pig uses me own focus against me, as a ward to keep me from the pleasure of slitting his gods-damned throat! I hope ye feed him to Daggermaw like the fish-fodder he is - no better fate would be deserved. But whatever happens, ye had better retrieve me conch from the whoreson - I don't care what you do besides. If ye return without it I'll drown yer pathetic bodies beneath the cold dark waters and make sure ye experience just a taste of the suffering that tusked slug has inflicted upon me!"

As she shouts these words at you, voice dripping with hatred, she is all the while sliding slowly backward, deeper in to the cavern, though her webbed fingers seem dug into the rock. It's as though some unseen force is pushing her back and she's resisting with all her might. Once she has finished speaking, her grip loosens, and she goes flying back into the back wall where she lets out a heart-wrenching screech before erupting into sobs and clasping her hair in her hands once more. The screech is loud enough that even those wearing earplugs faintly make it out, briefly turning their attention to the entrance of the cave.

Ruggo gives Storm a look and a nod to push on. His face seems to convey sympathy for the spectre with her unceasing pain.

As you carefully continue along the wet pathway, you descend a set of stairs to a lower section which leads to a bend around a spire of rock jutting out of the water. As you make your way around it, you see that a straightaway leads to the based of the rock stairway which winds its way up toward the lighthouse. The four of you can see the silhouettes of the two harpies perched upon the southern wall more clearly now, and it doesn't appear that they have taken any notice of you yet.

Ruggo fires his longbow, the arrow flying swiftly through the rain and knocking one of the harpies backward over the wall. Govath follows suit, hitting the second harpy which takes off and begins flying toward the party. Shortly after, five harpies, one wounded from Ruggo's shot, rise over the wall, and all six fly with haste to the straightaway. Govath hides behind a spire of rock, taking potshots along with Ruggo, and several of the harpies suffers wounds before even making it to the party's position. Lining each side of the causeway, they begin their luring song, but the adventurers' handmade ear plugs manage to block out the sound. Storm casts Bane, catching one of the harpies, while Ruggo's Hail of Thorns causes some damage to the three to the north.

Frustrated by the party's immunity to their song, the harpies dive in, attempting to shove Cain, Ruggo and Storm off the causeway and into the water below. Can dodges out of the way and Storm takes the blow and stays standing, but two of the harpies manage to pull Ruggo over. He struggles to climb back up the slick rock, so Storm gives some inspiring words and Cain, after dealing some blows to a harpy, lends him a hand to get him back up.

Meanwhile, a harpy spots Govath peeking out from behind the spire of rock, and swoops in to attack. Govath repeatedly dodges out of the way, choosing to focus his shots on the harpies attacking his friends, which are going down one-by-one. Unfortunately, his attacker finally lands a big strike, motivating him to disengage and run out to his companions. The hungry harpy pursues its prey, landing another devastating blow and rendering Govath unconscious.

Ruggo uses Hidden Step to move further up the causeway, reappearing at a distance to continue firing arrows at the remaining harpies. One, heavily-wounded, attempts to escape back to its nest, but a quick shot from his bow puts an end to that.

Storm gives Govath a Healing Word, but sadly the harpy is not so easily swayed from its meal. As Govath gets up and attempts to move further, it knocks him unconscious yet again. Storm, desperate to prevent the harpy from carrying Govath off, casts Healing Word once more on the fallen Dwarf, while Cain steps in and finishes off the final harpy, leaving the party alone upon the causeway, resources spent and drenched with rain.

Ruggo pulls his earplugs out and pockets them, rushing to Govath.

"Yer not lookin' too good, mate. But damn what a fight?"

Govath still lying on the causeway, slowly sits up and gets back to his feet. "Well I have quite the oppressive headache right now. What are you all thinking, find a place up ahead to get our bearings and devise a plan for the orc?"

Cain removes his hear plugs and stashes them. "Make sure you all keep these for the future, they worked well."

"But yeah, what a fight. Good thing we've had experience with harpies before."

"I agree with Govath, let's scout the lighthouse and the surrounding area. We can probably assume the Orc does his work at night, so in the meantime we can get a lay of the surrounding area and stake the place out."

"We also might want to find shelter to rest. I wonder if the harpies had a hideout?"

Remembering the earplugs, Govath removes his. "What was that Cain?"

Govath elbows Storm in the ribs and motions to him to remove his earplugs.

"Never seen a harpy nest before. Storm can probably find quite the arrangement of bones in there."

Storm takes the earplugs out of his cat ears.

"What was that Govath?"

"Hmm, that is fair. Would bones in a harpy nest be in your interests?"

"Say no more. Whatever plan you all devised, this one is in!"

Looking at each party member, and noticing for the first time the lack of damage to any of them. "Wait one second, how did you all avoid being hit by the harpies?"

"Well they tried teh drown me."

"Apparently Harpies have a liking for Dwarf meet", Cain laughs.

"Anyway, we should approach cautiously. Let's form up as before and move slowly to the other side ... we're not sure if there's any more Harpies waiting for us."

Cain moves to the front of the group and begins moving down the causeway.

1d20 (19) + 6 = 25
sneaky sneaky

1d20 (20) + 5 = 25

1d20 (19) + 7 = 26
Govath cracks his neck and gets in line.

1d20 (10) + 6 = 16
Storm prowls with his companions.

The four of you quietly make your way across the straight section before you until you reach the bottom of the winding stairs which lead up to the lighthouse. Being exceptionally careful not to slip, you begin your ascent as the wind howls and the rain swirls around you. As the beam of light above you pulses, you now feel and hear a slight rumbling in the rock beneath your feet, almost like a heart's slow beating vibrating through the entire outcropping.

As you crest the top of the stairs, you find yourself standing in a wide plateau, about eighty feet above the water below. Before you stands the ominous lighthouse, a set of wooden doors with rusted hinges and handles providing the only visible entrance. The walls are constructed from heavy stone, and the tower itself sprouts from the northwestern part of the building. You have a brief scare as a bright flash of lightning strikes the southern part of the building, the crack of thunder nearly deafening you. The sudden light reveals a thin metal rod rising up from the roof, extending nearly as tall as the lighthouse tower itself.

1d20 (15) + 4 = 19

1d20 (20) + 3 = 23
Govath looks around for the harpy's nest.

As Cain looks around, there's not much in the way of cover. The plateau seems to be completely level, and no overhands extend from the roof of the lighthouse building.

Govath, as you peer south, you see that where a the building ends, a small wall continues, presumably surrounding some kind of courtyard. Since the first harpies you spotted were perched atop that very wall, you assume the harpies nest must be within.

"I think the harpy nest might be out of our reach at the current time. Unless we care to scale that wall over there."

Ruggo keeps an arrow nocked and his bow drawn, ready for any surprises.
"We should at least try to get a looksee. Might be another adult guarding some chicklets."

"Do any of you have a grappling hook? We could try climbing over."

Storm thinks back on his first spending spree in Leilon, the first day he arrived.

"This one bought many supplies for the road but a grapple hook was not one. Just some pitons and rope."

"Hammering pitons into a wall might draw some attention from the Orc. We can probably assume he's unaware of us at the moment, what with this rain covering the noise of the battle below and our approach."

"It seems that the door is the only main entrance into this building, but let's see if we can find another way in ... we desperately need somewhere to lie and wait."

Storm points up to the tall lightning rod erecting from the roof.

"If we can also disable that safely, that would surely disrupt whatever that Orc is up to. Talos is the deity of storms. And I would bet the little coin I have left that the rod is right above the shrine. Whatever that Orc is up to, that rod is a power source."

"Storm I will assist you in seeing if we are able to take down the rod. Although we best be careful around the lightning otherwise I may be in need of another healing spell...

On second though Cain you help Storm. I will go and see what Ruggo is doing."

1d20 (11) + 2 = 13

As Ruggo hoists himself up, leaning his elbows on the stone wall, he catches a glimpse of a solitary creature, similar in appearance to the harpies but covered with more bristling feathers along the head, arms and wings. He immediately drops back down to the ground to avoid being spotted, as the creature appears to be looking around. Before doing so, however, he does register the sound of several voices mewling somewhere outside of his sight.

Ruggo falls to the ground silently and crouches, back against the wall and waves to get everyone's attention.

"There's more! Get down!"

Cain dashes along with Storm to the wall, and crouches down. In a whisper, he says: "How are there so many of these things? The Orc must have some pact with them or something, there's no way he can hole up in the lighthouse indefinitely ..."

"It would probably be best we deal with this one. I do not want a harpy attacking us when we are unawares."

"Unless we just go inside the lighthouse ... I doubt these things can fit. And even so, they'd lose all their flight advantage."

"Ruggo, what else did you see? Was it a nest? How many Harpies? If there is only a few, we have the surprise advantage and can close the gap quick."

"I jus' saw the big mother harpy, but I could hear others. Prolly the chicklets I reckon."

"She's gonna be expecting the others to return with food."

"I was nearly that food. Best we get inside then. I doubt the harpy would leave the lyrs to risk attacking us."

Govath starts to make his way to inspect the door to the main building.

"Just check for traps first!" Cain stage whispers to Govath as he's leaving.

1d20 (19) - 1 = 18
Checking the door to see if it is barred or trapped.

There doesn't appear to be any sort of barring on the door. Nor does it appear to be trapped. In fact, it doesn't even look as though there's a lock on it of any kind - you could simply push it open at your leisure.

In time, Storm's ritual finishes, and he keeps his ears perked for any sound coming from the other side of the wall. Unfortunately, whatever's over there doesn't appear to be in a talkative mood. You hear the occasional whine and some scraping on the ground, but nothing else.

1d20 (18) + 3 = 21
Govath listens for any noise coming from within.

"This one hears no voices. Just noises. I can hold the spell for a while though so let us be cautious and keep an ear out for chatter."

"Here Red, stand on my shoulders and look over."

Govath holds his ear to the door, and hears nothing from within - though admittedly, it's hard to tell for certain with the wind, rain and thunder all around.

1d20 (5) + 5 = 10

As you peer over the wall, you see the far corner of what appears to be a courtyard, lined with bones and rotting vegetation. Braving it, you push a little higher, until you can just make out the head of the creature which Ruggo described. There's a little high-pitched shriek from some figure you cannot see, and the creature makes its way over to the source of the sound, putting out its wings and making a little 'shush' sound. It then turns its eyes to the sky and begins panning around, which you take as your cue to quickly duck behind cover again.

"It is most certainly the Mother Harpy and some of its offspring. It has not spotted me though it is carefully watching the skies for danger."

"Do we...end them?"

"Maybe we can ally with it ... How intelligent are harpies? Do they understand the common language?"

"We certainly hold the high ground in this situation, so we could offer food as a good will offering for its help to say, remove the rod from the lighthouse?"

"If all goes south, then we can just take care of it ... though I'm not sure how I feel about murdering a bunch of chicks."

"Not a bad idea. Perhaps one of us that can be persuasive goes in there and tries to reason with it. The other three hide up on the walls and ambush it if things go sideways. No sense revealing our numbers ahead of time.

I'll go in there and try to talk to it. It may understand Common but speak a different language."

1d20 (18) + 7 = 25
Hearing the plan to go and speak with the harpy Govath nudges the door open slowly and quietly to take a quick look inside.

1d20 (10) + 3 = 13

"Alright, just make sure to have some food handy if you need to make a point. It'll take us a moment to scale this wall, too, if you need assistance."

"Everyone else, put your ear plugs in."

"Rowan, you can boost me up so I can keep a visual the on Storm. We won't be able to hear his call for help if things go south."

Storm looks back to see Govath poking his head indoors.

"Well, once Govath is done snooping. He chuckles."

As Govath pushes one of the double-doors inward, he sees a sparse foyer with a ceiling about fifteen feet high. Across from the door is a round section of wall with another set of double-doors which you presume lead up to the lighthouse tower. To the south, another closed, smaller door, and in the south wall there is a window through which flashes of lightning illuminate the otherwise-dark space.

Looking back to the group and seeing them waiting. Govath takes one last look inside, but heads back over.

"So we offering Storm up for a meal then?"

"Ready when you are..."

Storm retrieves his earplugs and a ration from his pack.

As Cain stands on Ruggo's shoulders, the Firbolg waves Govath over.

"If things go south, I'm pushing Cain over the wall, and then you. I'll climb up and try to stay on the top and pick it off from range, yeh good with tha'?"

Whenever the Harpy has noticed him, Storm says...

"This one is here to see the Orc...I am not your enemy!"

Storm leaps down from the wall into the courtyard below, landing with a crunch on some small bones. The creature turns in surprise as Storm says his words of peace, then suddenly its eyes flash a bright purple.

1d20 (20) + 1 = 21

1d20 (5) + 2 = 7

1d20 (2) + 1 = 3

1d20 (18) + 4 = 22

At the flashing of the harpy matriarch's eyes, Cain and Govath become paralyzed, their eyes glassy and their minds elsewhere. Ruggo, suddenly encumbered with dead weight, tosses Cain over the wall with a mighty heave. He lands with a thud in the courtyard. Meanwhile, Storm attempts to cast Suggestion on the matriarch, but even with insulting distractions, the creature resists the spell, charging him. A few swift attacks with her ferocious claws, and Storm is unconscious, bleeding out on the ground.

Govath snaps to, and seeing Ruggo struggle to climb the wall, offers him a boost. On the other side, Cain also returns to reality, seeing his companion bleeding out near the matriarch protecting its young. With incredible speed, he ducks under the creature's grasp, slinging Storm over his shoulder and rushes through the nearby door to the lighthouse building.

Ruggo and Govath silently argue for a few seconds over which of them should peek over the wall, with Ruggo finally conceding and noticing as he peers over the wall that their companions are no longer visible in the courtyard. He hops back down, shaking his head toward Govath, while inside the lighthouse, Cain attempts to slap Storm back to consciousness with no success. Before Cain can try any other method to save his dying companion, the Tabaxi stops breathing in his arms.

Cain, knowing there's nothing more he can do, takes a moment to examine his surroundings. He finds himself in a room where every stone wall is adorned with frescoes depicting ships being tossed about on stormy seas, with a dark and terrible figure wearing an eye-patch looming over them. In the west wall is a salt-encrusted window, through which Cain can see by flash of lightning the mast of a ship rising from the water below. Along the south wall sits a stone altar, lightning-shaped engravings along the sides and front. A metal rod descends from the ceiling, splitting into two smaller cylinders which come down and touch the altar on either side of the top.

There is no waiting. The very second Storm's body touches the altar, there is a flash and a crack of thunder that both blinds and deafens you, as you feel electricity conducted through Storm to you with enough force that it sends you flying backwards into the opposite wall.

Ruggo and Govath hear the massive boom coming from the room to the south just as they enter the foyer, and immediately run into the room. You see Storm laying upon the altar, and Cain unconscious lying against the wall across from him.

Cain is alive and breathing, and as Ruggo rushes into the room behind you, the two of you manage to get him stabilized.

Carefully examining the altar that Storm is laid upon, and looking at his muscles to see if they are contracting with electricity, it seems as though whatever charge may have knocked out Cain has dissipated now. You carefully grab Storm and pull him onto the ground as gently as you can manage. Bringing your ear down to his chest, you hear a faint, slow beating.

"Ruggo have you anything to help Storm!"

As Ruggo helps Storm, Govath goes and closes the door leading to the harpy, carefully keeping out of view. Then drags Cain's unconsciously body over beside Storm, and closes the other door.

"Well it seems that we will be waiting here until both of them wake up."

Just as Govath says this, you hear heavy footsteps pierce the sound of rain on the roof above you. They walk directly above your heads and then seem to pause there.

2d20kh1 (12, 16) + 4 = 20
Ruggo studies his surroundings for a place to hide and rest.

Looking around the sparse room, you don't see any furniture or alcoves around - clearly this place of worship was designed with the altar as the centrepiece and the frescoes to point attention toward it. Govath recalls that the foyer was similarly bare. It occurs to you that you're probably much safer finding a place to rest outside of the lighthouse than within it, especially if the Half-Orc is making rounds.

Ruggo and Govath swiftly carry their companions back out through the front door, careful to close both the shrine and front doors on their way. And it's not a moment too soon, for just as Govath is closing the front door, he hears heavy footfalls descending from the lighthouse tower. Deciding it best to stay as far from the harpy nest as possible, they turn left, finding a spot against the wall where they can lay their companions down and keep an eye on the front door, while also being out of sight from the roof and windows. It's wet and uncomfortable, but it will have to do.

The two conscious members of the party sit on edge for some time. The storm blustering around you makes for an already tense atmosphere, not even counting the pulsing greenish-yellow beam of light along with the thumping, rhythmic, vibrating you hear along with it. Dwarf and Firbolg keep firm eyes on the door and beyond, praying that no harpy nor Half-Orc appear in their sight. After about two hours pass, Storm is the first to awaken, suddenly sputtering and coughing the rain off of his face and jolting up into sitting position.

Storm groans, rolls over and mutters...

"Six...six more times...or so the saying goes..."

Storm just lays there staring up at the rain.

"Death is never easy. How did it end? Is the Harpy dead? Is the job completed? I feel like I just got squeezed out the end of an undead dinosaur lurking in the ruins of the Alzar Basin..."

"I was hopin' you could tell us what happened. I had Cain lookin' over the wall and some spell froze him so I chucked him over and by the time I looked to see you both were gone."

Storm turns his head and notices Cain is resting.

"The Harpy attacked without a second thought. This one tried to subdue it with some spells but she was stronger willed than I thought. Next thing I know, she rushed me and that was that. My chest is on fire..."

The three of you fall silent, waiting for the last member of your party to wake up. Another full two hours pass, thankfully undisturbed. In that time you watch as the tide begins to rise once more, and as it does so, the storm overhead slowly begins to dissipate as well. You catch glimpses of the sky between the still-drizzling clouds, and realize that it is well into the evening now. Cain awakes to see a handful of stars greeting him through the gaps in the clouds above.

He doesn't know exactly where he is, but he spots his three companions nearby. Realizing that his plan worked, he closes his eyes and relaxes a bit, trying not to move.

"That was too close ... ", _he mutters, "... I think I'm just going to lie here a while longer to catch my breath."

Storm just lays there with his eyes closed.

"Hey Cain, what happened to me? This one saw your body flop to the ground but that is all I remember."

Eyes still closed, he responds, "I guess I was entranced by the harpy. I was whisked away to a happier place, running my own successful shop. I woke up on the other side of the wall, and the harpy was already over top of you. I grabbed you, ran inside where you died."

"But there was an altar of sorts which the lightning rod was connected to. So I took a chance and threw you onto it ... which promptly exploded and I guess knocked me out."

"This whole mission has been botched. We should decide if we're still willing to risk our lives to help out Miraal."

"Maybe it's a good thing we didn't pull down that rod before confronting the nest afterall...sounds like your quick thinking saved my life."

"Quick thinking there Cain, high risk high reward. I am still interested in fending off the orc, best for any ships passing by in a storm. Also, the crustacean did promised a reward."

As he lays there, Storm points a single claw and pricks himself on the arm drawing a little blood on it. He then reaches over and pricks it into Cain's arm.

"For saving my seventh life, this one called Storm of Fire of the Boundless Jungle clan will help you get your face back no matter the cost to himself. I am bound to this duty till Ubtao takes my final life."

Storm rests a few more moments and begins to sing a somber tune into the rain.

Storm pulls out his lute and tries to play as quietly as possible, just to be safe. As the four of you rest and tend to your wounds, the rain eventually comes to a stop, along with the lightning and thunder, and you realize that the light from atop the tower has dimmed. It still shines, just much more faintly, and you no longer hear the rhythmic thumping. The wind settles to a gentle ocean breeze, and frankly it would be a nice, cool summer's night if not for the circumstances.

After some time, Storm packs his gear up and prepares to move.

"The storm has subsided and perhaps whatever nightly ritual the orc performs as well. As far as we know, he does not know our presence. We can still get in there, find the conch and get out."

Cain slowly gets up and stretches. Reaching to get his gear, he remembers he used it at bait.

"Going completely stealthy and stealing the conch with the Orc unaware sounds like a risky plan. However it might work, and hopefully we still get the element of surprise if it doesn't."

"What do you guys think the rhythmic bolts of lightning hitting the rod is meant to do? Clearly that was some altar I put Storm onto ... could the Orc be conguring something? Or maybe it's charging something to use later?"

"At this point, we can't even be sure that sneaking in during the day time is even the safest course if action."

"Either way, we've come all this way. If you guys still want to go in, I'm ready when you are."

"Being completely honest, if you all had perished fighting the harpies I had considered stealing the conch.

I would be interested in stealthily going through and finding the best place to ambush the orc."

"Do we all go exploring, or split up and send in a small group to investigate."

"If we've learned anything, we should stick together. Also it doesn't seem there's much room in the lighthouse, and I would wager the conch is in the tower."

"Should we wake this one up?" Cain points to Rowan.

"Suppose that would be a good idea." Standing up and firstly stretching the kinks out of his back from sitting against a wall for many hours. Govath walk over a nudges Ruggo to wake him up. "It is time to hunt us an orc."

Ruggo stirs and sits up. "Well I's jus' waitin' for the word. Let's go."

1d20 (10) + 7 = 17

1d20 (6) + 5 = 11

1d20 (10) + 6 = 16

"Keep yer eyes open for traps. He knows there's someone here and had hours to prep an ambush."

1d20 (12) + 6 = 18

Storm draws his rapier, and creeps towards the door with the group.

"Well if we're going to finish this, let us begin."

"Attack on sight. If we give him a moment to speak he'll weave a spell. Righto?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with, no more negotiation." Cain draws his weapons.

"Be cautious, we did make quite the noise when Cain nearly killed himself to bring Storm back."

You make your way back into the foyer of the lighthouse, being careful not to make too much noise. Without the frequent flashes of lightning, and with the waning moon being nearly gone, the interior is completely dark. Cain is unable to see much of anything, walking with hands extended and frequently feeling around for his companions. The rest of you are able to see fine, but Storm and Govath lose sight of Ruggo entirely. It's as though he blends completely into the shadow, and for a moment you're worried he didn't come with you.

Alas, it does not appear that Ruggo is anywhere to be seen outside either.

Storm whispers...

"Ruggo, where are you? Are you invisible?"

After a second you hear a chuckle from somewhere in the room with you.

"Heh, that works pretty good. I reckon I'm gonna like this path..."

"Hmm, that could prove useful. Ruggo check the room from before, make sure it is still empty, Remembering that Cain can not see anything and take Cain with you. Storm you and I will check the other door."

"Sorry guys," Cain whispers, "I didn't realize it was going to be so dark in here. I don't know how you all can see so well, but perhaps someone can lend me their lantern? I'll light it up if need be."

Ruggo rustles in his pack and hands Cain a torch and a match.

"Here. Torch is oil-soaked so will light up soon's yeh strike the match. Follow me." Ruggo grabs Cain's wrist and leads him to the door.

Ruggo quietly pushes open the door and peers around the shrine room. All seems quiet - especially without the roaring sound of rain hammering on the roof. As discovered earlier, there's not many places to hide, so you're satisfied as you scan back and forth and see nobody. A sudden screech from beyond serves as a quick reminder of the dangers that lie in the courtyard across from you, but it doesn't appear the harpies have any interest in coming inside.

As Storm and Govath quietly push open the doors to the tower itself, they see a spiral staircase with an ornate stone railing. From above, an eerie greenish-yellow glow pulses slowly. To the north, a small wooden door leads to a room off of the tower. From inside, you can very clearly hear loud snoring.

"The orc is asleep. Let's check the door for traps or locks and get in there. We should end this while we have the advantage."

"Before we do anything murderous, maybe we can question him about what's going on up above. He might be alone here, but I have a bad feeling what we're going to find if we just waltz to the top of the tower."

"I don't like the idea of letting a magic user speak."

"Point taken ..." remembering back to what happened with the harpy. "... then let's make this quick and clean."

"We also do know nothing crazy was happening before the orc arrived."

2d20kh1 (2, 17) - 1 = 16
Govath approaches the door quietly and begins to look around at it for any trap or abnormality.

"Well Govath, let's scope this door. I'll check the frame."

Storm and Govath carefully examine the door and its frame. Much like the other doors you've encountered here so far, it is plain, wooden, rusted, and unlocked. There doesn't appear to be any sign of a trap.

1d20 (15) + 5 = 20
If an orc snores alone in a room and no one is around to hear it...is it really an orc?

Additionally, as Cain and Ruggo join the group, the eerie glow from above provides enough light for Cain to see his surroundings. Ruggo also becomes visible, no longer blended into the shadows.

Storm listens carefully at the door, but hears nothing but the rough snores beyond.

1d20 (11) + 5 = 16
Storm motions for Govath to have a listen to confirm if it's just the orc he hears.

"It only appears the orc is snoring in there. The door seems untrapped and not locked. Let's get in there quietly, survey the room quick and take him out. But we need to decide...

Knock him out or kill him?"

"Knock him out if possible, but if it comes down our survival. Kill him."

"I agree. Let's do this swiftly."

"Everyone prepared? As soon as the door is opened we do not hesitate." Govath draws his rapier in one hand, and dagger in other giving a nod to Cain.