::Rumors heard in the Lucky Ferret::
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_With the growing realisation that the infamous Dentin Strauss is a smelly, Peltarch-hating traitor - that other smelly, Peltarch-hating figure - Mercy - has intensified her preaching down the Docks, proclaiming the urgent need for snivelling to Umberlee in these times of strife if the Bitch Queen is to be kept on side.
Waving a haddock, she extorts passing sailors and fisherfolk that the rage of the Sea can readily froth over, consuming "faithless Peltarchian scum or faithless whoreson o' N'Jast alike! Tear down th' Gondar's disrespectful buffers tae shove off the tides, an' lay yer faith i'th' Bosom o' Umberlee! Only then can yer filthy kipper-eyed, arse-trumptetin' selves b' saved frem the comin' eddy an' flow, the lash o' lightnin' i' yer masts an' the ravishin o' all sails an' sailors!…"_
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Rumor has it that Drelan has been distributing food in the docks. Some given freely(orphange) others charged though below what the scalpers are charging. He looks tired and haggard and it makes some wonder if it'll be the last shipment in for a while.
Whatever it means though it seems the rumors of the history of the Sails allegiance to the docks seems to be more than legend.
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A group of four undead women recently was seen meandering through the nightly streets of Peltarch's docks, at least until a group of guards took them down. Some say it was a second group of guards, and rumors suggest the involvement of a known Beshaban in all this. She seemed to go willingly to or with the guards, at least.
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Lucy Marks, a gambler frequently seen in the Ferret, is said to have disappeared on her way there… foul play? Shanghaied? Skipped town? Nobody seems to know...
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… and outside in the streets of the dock's district, Grag and Elissa can be seen walking together. What the general of the legion, and the self-proclaimed priestess of Beshaba are doing together remains a mystery. Those who pay attention might have noticed that Elissa recently took a deep interest in the sailors and gamblers alike. Maybe she's hoping to grab some of the flock of Umberlee's followers for herself, or maybe she's just trying to help her own purse.
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Regulars of the Lucky Ferret with notice that the plucky ten-year old dishwasher Tiff no longer fills the bar with her girlish giggling, having disappeared…
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_Disaster strikes the Lucky Ferret Inn, as the popular barmaid Anah is said to have fallen victim of a kobold assassin. Rumour has it the hardboiled guard captain Gerard Fortesque was also attacked by these unusually well trained scaly killers, but escaped with his life after having slain two of the assailants. Further attacks are said to have occurred in the commerce district, just prior to the deadly strike at the Ferret.
In Anah's absence, the bar is sporadically run, sporadically raided by the Black Sails staff, the visibly worn manager Sabre Seesaw often taking the place behind the counter._
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The Ferret now lacks Anah's face, and jokes, those who ask are told the sad story of a kobold assault and Anah being the first to die. It's also said that Guard Captain Fortesque punched two of the sneaky kobold assassins until they stopped twitching altogether, but a third reached the Ferret and struck, swiftly cutting down Anah, and then, being cornered by three people, making an equally mean escape. It's suspected that the kobolds travelled over the roofs.
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When Pavel talks of their first trip as Defender aides to Hoarsgate to buy supply, the trip itself - while eventful - seems to factor in little. Instead he can mostly be heard commenting on the great wares a merchant in Hoarsgate had for sale. He pats a large potion bag with an odd smile, then just grins. Sometimes he claims that the Sails ruined the potion business again, and sometimes he says he's glad healing potions are available for cheap again. Yet his final commet is often this:
"And nobles are just as crappy. And stuck up. Wherever you go."
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_The eccentric tattooed elf that some know as an artist from the college and others know as a sail has been seen in the ferret keeping company with any unhappy looking ship captains that happen to wander into the Ferret.
Some sailors say she's been acting kind of weird lately anyway and maybe has developed a thing for old ship captains that have been worn down by the icy waterway.
Others say she's after rumors of the ghost ships that terrorize lake.
At least one of the captains mentions that the elf must be either nuts or excessively rich because she seems quite eager to throw away coin on a ship now that the waters are so dangerous. Perhaps she has some bard elf magic to keep ships safe from the raids that she's keeping to herself._
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Gurt, when not in the backrooms, usually gives Droibo dirty looks anytime he comes in. If asked why, he answers with…
"Me not like that one armed crook. Say…can ye spare 5 coinz?"
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Marty makes a point of befriending Droibo (as she has with all the hin in Peltarch) and spends some time helping him settle in.
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The halfling shopkeep Droibo from Jiyyd pops into the Ferret frequently to advertise his newly opened shop (just down the street!) and enjoy a drink with his new neighbours.
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Elissa, who does not hide the fact she serves Beshaba, makes a point of - whenever she catches that particular couple stalking off together - to head the other way and offer her unique way to avoid misfortune and thus future wounds, occasionally even mending existing wounds.
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As word of the abovementioned spreads, Dentin makes a point of stalking Mercy and appearing just as she starts her routine, offering free healing and aid, and salvation from the stench.
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In other news of the Sea Hag, since the Temple of Tyr closed, Mercy has been pounding the Docks, forcing a coin or two out of its residents to heal their hurts and salve their diseases in the Queen's name. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that…
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_Colourful local priestess of Umberlee, Mercy, has been enjoying herself down the Docks of late. Apart from the usual pleasures of threatening fishermen and sailors alike with the wrath of Umberlee if they don't "supplicate proper", she has been holding court on subject of the Black Sails recent escapades against the Icelace Raiders. Reminding all listeners how one pyrate ship already fell to the Sails collective and concerted violence, she turns to subject of the sunken Nightmare's Executioner and the limping Raider's Doom.
With her usual, excessively florid detail, she explains how the heroic phalanx of the Black-and-Gold clad sailors set about the vicious pyratical coves, putting at least sixty o' 'em to the sword, storming some sort of tower, and generally leaving none alive. If asked about the skill of the raiding boys they encountered, she whistles, making them out for "rough-handed, sharp-armed lads wi' more'n a whisper o' death in'm." She is quick to point out, however, how effective - and perhaps vaguely patriotic - the Sails have been against the scurvy knaves. "Fire tae fight fire, eh, lads?"_
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Since the Black Sails ship slouched into port, everybody's favourite priestess of Umberlee has been making her presence felt at the drinking holes and corners of the Docks, talking-up the escapade in traditional and predictably lurid terms. Listeners are regaled with tales of the little sailoress aboard the defeated ship-of-less-than-ghostly character, who viciously used a teddy bear to knock John "Terror of the Sword Coast" Isle, into the Icelace's chilly waves. Mercy is quick to point out, however, that she personally eviscerated the brat, and sank her to the guts of the lake. When questions turn to the corpses of the pair of raiders brought in by the Sails, Mercy jauntily outlines how the devils-in-black-and-gold dropped the pyrate's mast on their own heads, pulping a good many "like o'er ripe turnips". As to the various marks and tears on their ship's flesh, Mercy adopts a loft attitude…
"Considerin' they all be sunk an' corpsed, a singe or two ain't gonnae draw a bead o' a tear frem this ol' eye, says I. 'Tis coward talk wha' be keepin' the scarety merchantiles off the Lake. 'Tis safe as houses - fer the faithful - wi' a cutlass in tow an' a small gang o' mates tae slaughter yon corporeals an' ready-gibbeted pyraticals, wi' a wanion, damme fer a brass-tongued, silver-necked, knock-knees, onion-eyed, sheep-soulderin', loft-moulderin' food runner if't'ain't so! Any merchants wha' fancy decent protection coul' do worse'n ask fer the Sails tae sail along. After all, wha' injury can befall such, argh?
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The redheaded bard makes her rounds in docks talking to the various crews and dock hands. She seems curious to learn more about the ghost ships and ships that come and go without being noticed.
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_Word has it a rather rag-tag crew of sailors and landlubbers set out with the ill-reputed Captain Dal recently, reportedly with the aim of helping the Peltarch authorities bring in hired forces from abroad to assist in the war. Assisting in the perilous task was the city's own Defender Sergeant Kara DuMonte, Cerulean Knight Lycka Zomasdottir, skald in training Mareann, Norwick Ambassador Ronan Redralen, the Narsman Rhyndar, Celebring of the Gypsy Warriors, Taria of the Black Sails, sailor Luke C. Leathertail and a rather eccentric man with a gull on his head.
Inspite of the captain's rather questionable track record, the group returned safe and sound a short time after, bringing fresh numbers of armed men and women to the cause. Tales of sanguin and undead gnolls rising from the waves might spread from the travel-weary adventurers, who also claim to have weathered a hurricane and an assault from the N'Jast fleet._
