(G600 30/08/2025 via Roll20 - JF(GM), KT) EVL1
[Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the gang at the Barrow, dark forces were gathering on Yag Island. This story is here told by Ganbar, Priest of Kelemvor, Head of the Cult of Gravediggers.]
DAY 700 1st Alturiak (Feb)
It has come to my attention that in the Shining Sea region Umberlee has been 'at it again' and has raised a bunch of old pirates as undead and set them walking among the places of man.
One such unfortunate being is known as 'Salt's Wake' a cleric of Umberlee who in life was known as Oswin Marrick.
I have had him described to me thus:
''
A gaunt, pallid figure with skin tight as sailcloth, salt-crusted and streaked with sea-green mold. His eyes glow faintly like drowned lanterns, shining through the island fog. Barnacles cluster on his hands and forearms, like jewelry of the abyss. His tattered coat and breeches still bear the rotted finery of a pirate captain, belt hung with a rusted cutlass and sea-worn holy symbol.
''
I have also heard these colourful comments from sailors in the region:
''
Lo! Some say gulls avoid him and fish wash dead on the shore where he walks. And the drowned whisper in the surf when he stands near the tide, as if awaiting his command.
''
My research into this errant soul has led me to understand that in life Oswin Marrick was a corsair who preyed upon the local trade routes, his name feared but not legendary. Betrayed in a mutiny, he drowned bound in chains, sinking into the storm.
At this point Umberlee, the Bitch Queen, claimed his soul. He rose again, breathless and cursed, to spread her cruelty and raise the drowned as her army.
Whether Marrick knew he was now a recruiter for an undead army or not I don't know, but I do know he turned up at Yag Island in the centre of the Shining Sea, in a pirate port known as Tamunzah at about two in the morning on this day.
He was first drawn to a ruined church on the eastern shore of the town, a place five doors down from the general store. He skulked around the building and saw a flickering light coming from a boarded up window. It looked like someone had already chosen this place as a hidey-hole.
So instead ol' Salty found an unoccupied house and hunkered down in a dusty old bedroom. He was interrupted in the hours before dawn though by someone entering the dwelling in a clumsy drunken fashion. He then heard them making grunting noises, suggesting that an evacuation was being undertaken.
After that, the person staggered across to the bedroom door. Salty cast Obscuring Mist. The drunken pirate opened the door and was hit by a wall of magical mist.
'What devilry is this!' he slurred and advanced into the room, knife drawn.
Salty backed off as the blade was swung wildly around. He cast Cause Fear, but it had no effect. There was a scuffle in the corner of the room, and as the mist cleared a little the pirate slumped to the floor, gurgling as blood came out of his mouth.
Salty finished him off and looted the corpse. He then dragged the body into the main room and stuffed it behind an armchair. He didn't want to hang about in the house so he went back to his boat to spend the rest of the night in its small windowless cabin.
DAY 701 2nd Alturiak (Feb)
Salty waited all day in his boat. He heard life passing by on the dockside. Sailors and pirates shouting and laughing, cargo and booty being hauled about and the sound of hungry gulls looking for scraps.
He spent most of his time praying to Umberlee.
When night fell he heard the sounds of the dockside change. People started to get drunk in the local taverns and flop-houses and the streets filled with the noises of fights, arguments and drunken singing.
Salty skulked back to the church he had found the night before. He listened at the door and heard the muttering of prayer. He wondered at how the church could be in use. The roof looked to be all caved in and vines grew up and over all the walls.
It looked like it had lain derelict for years.
He tried the door, but it was locked. He then knocked on it.
'Who is it?' asked a voice from within.
'Who does this church belong to?' asked Salty, trying not to sound undead.
'This was once the house of Istishia, but it is no longer a place of worship.
There is nothing for you here.'
'I seek solace and I wish to pray silently,' wheedled Salty.
But the person on the other side was having none of it and called back, 'I warn you I am armed!'
Thwarted the old undead cleric then roved around the town. No one paid him any heed.
He was looking for an 'Adventurer's Notice Board', but Tamunzah is not the sort of place Adventurer's frequent. It is more a place for pirates to come and refit their ships and get drunk. That's not to say that there was not adventure to be had in such a place, just that it would not be advertised in the town square.
Once more feeling as if fate was against him, Ol' Salty wafted into the drinking dive nearest to his boat. It was not a big place, but it was stuffed full of drunken pirates. A landlord, if you could call the fat old slob running the place, went from table to table filling up their cups with gutrot grog.
At about four in the morning it started to get a bit quieter. Salty ordered grog but he was incapable of drinking it. He asked if the landlord had a room.
'Yeah, I guess so,' grunted the sleepy old geezer. 'I can put you in my root cellar for five copper a night.'
Salty paid for a ten day and skulked down the stairs. This rotten old cellar room full of damp and decay was just perfect for him.
'I don't want to be disturbed,' he intoned as he closed the door.
