The return of Cray Vincint

  • Looking North from the docks in Peltarch across the waters of the Icelace Lake, as they sparkle in the midday sun. Crossing the horizon is a small, low masted ship with crimson sail. That is also flying the long outdated Black Sails Trading Coaster flag. The ship seems to survey the city before turning toward Oscura.

    A short time later, the ship known to some as the “sea monster” and aptly bearing the name Leviathan across its stern. Creeps ominously towards the docks in Oscura. The crew scurries about the deck, calling out to each other as they ready to throw ropes to the dock workers.

    Eventually the ship is tied off, the gang plank thuds down with a bounce, and then a second thud before resting on the stone dock. The Leviathan has not graced the docks of Oscura in a couple decades. Those that remember the ship and it’s notorious crew, watch in anticipation to see who disembarks.

    The first and only passenger that steps onto Oscuran soil. Is one of the original favoured sons of Arnath, the precursor to Oscura. The rest of the ships infamous owners, Storn, Kyan, and Mystic. Are nowhere to be seen. They are seeds in the wind, planted across Faerun. Cray for the time being, is the sole proprietor of the Leviathan.

    Cray has aged suspiciously well for someone who, for all intensive purposes appears to be human. Apart from his bizarre skin tones and hair colour. As typical, rumours abound about what kind of wicked or strange magic’s Cray is involved in. Yet, the truth behind the mystery of his features, is really far more mundane than this.

    However, there is no doubt that Cray has returned with a moderate fortune, to say the least. Many heavy chests are unloaded directly from the ship, onto cart. Then escorted via land, under heavy guard, to the First Bank of Narfell.

    After settling in. Cray finds Oscura somewhat lonely with most of his friends and colleagues, passed away or moved on. For a time he finds happiness at the bottom of a bottle in the Shiney Coppers. But shallowness of this existence is quickly worn away. He will have to pick himself up and forge new relationships much to his reluctance.

    Cray begins to venture to the surface of Narfell more and more. The many years at sea have adapted him well to things like the sun, wind, and rain. The perpetual noise of the birds, is no longer an uncomfortable and annoying sound. He has come to enjoy their songs, but is loathe to admit it. He has a reputation to maintain after all.

    He has mellowed over time, much akin to an old bottle of wine. He genuinely tries to get along and fit in with the new generation of Adventurers in Narfell. While mingling with the surfacers. He contributes, behaves fairly honestly, and honourably. Much to his own surprise, turning the leaf some, has had its personal and monetary rewards.

    However he isn’t able to shake off people’s preconceived notions about those from the underdark, or perhaps the reputation of his younger self. False and severe accusations of convenance eventually surface, threatening to force him out of his new found circle of friends. Cray relapses, and the turned leaf falls from the tree, to change colour and decay on the grass.

    Like a self fulfilling prophecy, Cray has gone and turned the once false allegations into a jarring reality.