Night One: Arrival to Port Dawson
After several long weeks we arrived at a port. Nothing extraordinary to speak of, but it was better than the dank cramped quarters of the underbelly of that stinking hull. The crew was nice enough; though I’m sure they were paid to be so, or beaten into it. The Port was sadly not much nicer. An unused dilapidated stop, the smell of flotsam and treachery permeated the wood of the dock itself. As we disembarked it seemed that there would be no better accommodations in the town. We were greeted by a bloated old politician, supposedly an Commodore, though in which incompetent Navy he served I could not imagine. He greeted us to this exotic market stop with tales of taxes and thieves. He was insulted in his town by a brigand, Robert the Red. An assassin by trade, who accused the Commodore of betraying his accords and failing to pay for services rendered. If only we had known how true this was. A fat drunken dwarf welcomed us into his tavern and a delicious feast was presented. Too much drink was had by some, apparently they felt they were better in crisis situation when they were as pissed as a sailor on shore leave. That night we were attacked by Robert’s men. Cowards and thieves the lot of them, attacking unprovoked, insulting as they fought and then scurrying back into the night to hide. At first we thought they hid from us, how wrong we were. The mist started to roll in, and with it came the horns. Horns that call a ship to port, though there was no ship, just an army of bloated dead walking up from the beach. Bolstered by the mist that bore them upon us they attacked mercilessly. We fought and fought, we fought well and hard, some of us were able to withstand the onslaught better than the others. In the end we all sought refuge in the halls of the tavern, eventually the mist receded, and with it the undead. We all retreated to our cabins after the onslaught and sought the comfortable embrace of sleep. Thankfully those of us, who sought it, were able to awake in the morn.
Day Two: Skeletons in the closet
The Day brought with it the return of the red capped bandits. A tenacious lot who learned to hold some ground and gained a newfound respect for tactical combat. They pressed for most of the day but unfortunately for their cause, their network was breached and they were forced to retreat back into the woods. I pity the people around Port Dawson, for once the redcaps gain their bearings they will bring a havoc not seen since the founding of the Labrynthium. As the day progressed we encountered a strange and supposedly mythical creature, a goblin entered the town. It appeared to be feeling us out as much as we were trying to find out what it was. The Admiral denied its existence stating that they had been extinct for an extensive time but as we know now, the Admiral is a less than reputable source. The afternoon brought a brief respite, and with it a dueling challenge in the town. Travelers and residents alike were able to join in on the excitement through honorable combat or the side betting that ensued. Another evening and another fantastic meal, though the dwarf was surly and inhospitable, the wenches in his hovel were very gracious and put out quite an exotic spread. The revelry of the evening’s meal was short lived though, for as the dusk turned to night, the fog returned, and this night it sought vengeance. We learned that this so called Admiral had betrayed a pirate vessel with which he had been trading; he had barricaded their vessel in Dawson’s harbor, and massacred the poor bastards who ran upon its ship. In the end the townsfolk all experienced the torment of the doomed sailors, and were able to lay them to rest. At least, we hope we did. The Admiral took his leave early in the evening; as if he knew it came for him, and was happy to let us poor travelers suffer his penance for the injustices he wrought. I had heard that he returned late I the night, but as slept crawled over me I could not have cared less. I found my harbor and prepared to set out to Freehold. A dinky little port with nothing to offer, If that’s how Dawson is to be remembered, I cannot wait to see what lies in Freehold.
-Recorded down by Jacob Klavigr
I can't believe my eyes! The Commodore agreed to a honor dual and a brave soul called Captain Aubrey took it up. Once the dual begin a single cricket could be heard from far across the lake and the nervous shaking of everyone's knees could be felt. If the Commodore won, all of the new townsfolk would be forced out of town that very night; and yet if Captain Aubrey won, than the Commodore would be required to leave and to never bother Port Dawson again. The townsfolk don't seem to understand though that their trek would continue later in the moon to continue onto Freehold while if the Commodore was forced out he would be free to wander everywhere... including Freehold! Long story short Captain Aubrey won! Without another word the Commodore and his crew left at once but moments later the townsfolk turned onto the winner Captain Aubrey and cut him down! Later I learned words were exchanged, the Captain Aubrey claimed the Commodore was a honorable person while the rest of the town did not feel that way. A little much I say but this being Port Dawson there are not many laws against this sort of thing. Wait until they reach Freehold and try to do something like this in front of Annie.
-Young Stable Hand
Arrived on the Screaming Eagle to Port Dawson.
Commodore Manning awaited our arrival. He and Captain Degen seemed to have a history or rivalry. Concerns. Were raised about diseased passengers and cargo. Dockmaster Poe, a mildmannered man, investigated the cargo. The flashes of lightening and rumbles of thunder proved to be a warning unheard. Not long after we arrived we were graced by the presence of a brigand in green. He introduced himself as Robert, a human who felt he was not paid well enough for his services of the Commodore’s employ. When asked for comment Captain Degen McDastard explained of a rivalry that has gone on for many years. The Captain was a pirate and mercilessly persued by Commodore Manning (then a Captain). Captain Degen was always one step ahead of Commodore Manning. Now retired from a life of pirating he seems to have, in the opinion of this writer, degraded into a life of being an accessory to privateering.
When we arrived to The Gilded Barrel, we saw the figure of a man at the doorstep. The Commodore explained to him to be the Capatain of Nightwatch. After promptly disposing of the garbage, I delivered some supplies. Not to the owner but to the operator of the Gilded Barrel, Durin Goodbrew. After a glorious feast, much drink, and plenty of introductions later we were attacked by the Redcaps. NO gold. Robert led the Redcaps after a box of supplies. After much research I discovered there were come inconsistencies in the logs under The Gilded Barrel. Egregrous prices being paid for everyday items. An obvious indicator of smuggling contraband. Robert’s name is seen frequently and gradually trickles off. Then it is no longer seen at all.
-Recorded down by Rasbutin Truevein
Did you see that? You can't tell me you didn't see that! And it's not the drink talking this time, I swear! Someone just tried to assassinate the Commodore! He of course did not succeed but it was a close call...
-Drunken Bar Maid
