Rumors of Ulgoths Beard

[burbles]

"Water lord... Water Lord, you say? Elemental lord?" - she replied with surprise, - "I doubt they have one in the village, when they don't even have a site for a Bitch Queen. I'm not a follower, mind, but it comes with sailing. "
She introduces herself with a bit of flourish:
"Aprentice actor, aprentice sailor and (self-appointed) keeper of Last's Anchor baths - like I did at home and would be again when I'm done wandering, likely... Call me Parsee. And I'm out of place, that was the plan."
And so green-eyed monster (not realy) proceeded with the man on his quest, wondering if he was inspired, she was quietly asking her Patron for an Omen and Augury, as it was only appropriate in the circumstances.

[Steve]

As Dhavel and Parsee walk the hamlet together, from center market to the periphery, circling and returning to the beginning, they encounter nothing that notes a marker of respect to the Water Lord...and as the goodwonan mentioned, also not to the Water Queen.

"Parsee...the Water Lord is often called by the one name Istishia...and others, when in different lands. His 'way' is that of the inevitable course, the soft path, the path of least resistance, but without resistance...for his element does douse fire, it carves away stone, it both holds and displaces air. For this, and more, one can and with ease humbly respect the power there...and a small shrine, a marker...would please the faithful."

As the two continue to walk and converse, Parsee would intuit that Dhavel is not a 'holy man' per se, yet his wisdom is presented as formed through the knowledge of the ultimate force of...water.

"This Coast is a major 'edge' in the search for peace between land & sea. But if the markets and signs have yet to be placed, to be built...then a quest is laid before us." Dhavel speaks this as if a decision within, is already made...planned.

Later on, Dhavel speaks to Parsee about a rumor of a midwinter festival occurring in the city of Baldur's Gate. He states directly that he will walk the coast to the city—at least, a path along the Chionthar—and there, observe and inquire if a greater marker—a respect to the Water Lord—can be found...for a festival often brings out the masses.

[burbles]

Young woman listened Dhavel's tale of Istishia and his way:
"But what such shrine would be like, look like?" - she asked then, - "Water itself is very clear and transparent and has no shape or form. Is there one pleasing to Water Lord?"

She pondered Dhavel's statements for a few moments and replied with another question:
"As I understand, the sea is not hostile to land, only bringing bouts of Sea Queen's fury. What do you mean then, speaking of peace?"

She wished him well on a journey, herself being preocupied with the ship and an Inn and probably enjoying quiet and misty seaside after a big city.
"If you like to try yourself at sea trade, Captain is recruiting." - she mentioned to Dhavel instigatingly before he left.

[Steve]

As Dhavel prepares his belongings, and considers the rations he has upon his waist belt for the journey ahead, leaving Ulgoth's Beard for the unforeseeable future, he remarks on the comments and questions presented to him by Parsee.

"All significant sources of water are manifestations of our Water Lord. Thus, at these places, when faithful wish to site a place for honoring his eternal presence, quarried sandstone or clean marble in the shape of a wave or drop of water—even if such a motive was worked into existing elements—not only honors him, but shows the faithful a place of respect, open to the great reach of his element.

That we have seen nothing of the sort here, nor has any of the hamlet inhabitants informed us during our survey, leads me to the following conclusions: either the Water Lord has been forgotten by this peoples, or...another power wishes to present their dominance within this hamlet."

Dhavel's eyes seem piercing at this moment. Though he looks at Parsee in this moment, she would be unsure whether this unusual gaze is directed at her, or is simply calculating something else all together...but whatever it might be, it may or may not disturb her.

Dhavel then continues on with his remarks on her earlier comments:

"Where the land and the sea meet, is an edge—and an edge is not a sharpness, as you may interpret it, but a place where much growth occurs. The 'edge' I speak to you off is where energy is formed, life created, the beginning and the end of all things. The greater the edge, the greater in all the ways I have just mentioned. Shall this realm be one of peace, or one of war? Shall this edge be without care, or under dominion?"

Again, Parsee sees a hint of the calculating look Dhavel made moments before. Such countenance presented while he talks of esoteric things, may or may not lead her to conclude this gaze is but a tick, a natural expression made by this man's face, possibly altogether not under control. Parsee may wonder whether this gaze is one that connects to his inner strength.

"Young woman, your offer to become compatriots is telling of your nature. I am no merchant in simple trade work, be it sea or land. What work I must do, has only just begun...one day, perhaps, we will see each other again."

Parsee watched the cool, sea-blue hued cloth upon Dhavel's back disappear into the east, where the hamlet periphery turns into a more forested, rolling set of hills.

[Silver_Lining]

Having been on her daily guard patrol, the DragonWing's Captain stood
high on the hill above the popular fishing alcove, watching the two part.
A curious tilt of her head betraying her curiosity regarding her newest
crew member and the unfamiliar male. With a simple shrug of dismissal,
she turned, wending her way back toward the merchant stalls, to
finish her guard shift. Angel's rum cakes and a plate of fowl awaited her
return,and she was starving...

[Syracuse]

The moon elf druid Onna'evatril can be seen seeking passage North of the local fishermen. Speaking with Barnacle Bob, she seems to be trying to book passage North, to Daggerford, in regards to finding out more behind a recent caravan attack along the Northern Tradeway.

Though she carries no fortune in coin, she does carry promise to pay a fair wage in either work protecting a ship on its way, or in coin. Or both. She isn't precisely picky.

[Silver_Lining]

*An Older Poster for the Masquerade is Removed*

[Silver_Lining]

*An Older Poster for the Masquerade is Removed*

[Silver_Lining]

As news reaches the Captain she immateriality orders the old posters to be torn down
and new posters to be put up in her place. The Crew bustles to get them posted and
handed out all over town to spread the news!

[Silver_Lining]

*An Older Poster for the Masquerade is Removed*

[Silver_Lining]

Following the recent increase in activity as the obvious and very active, ongoing
renovations of the vessel known as the Dragonwing, rumors as to the nature of the changes
ensue. It is told that her Re-Christening will precede the much anticipated Masquerade Dinner
Cruise, which will be the Maiden Voyage of Ulgoths Beard's newest enterprise.

While may have claimed otherwise, few if any seem to know the true, new name to be given at her Re-Christening.


The Re-Christening / Re-Naming of the DragonWing will be held at
on Saturday May 14th at 1pm Eastern Time.
The new name of the Galleon will be . . .

[The_Gruff_Stout]

Those passing through The Bearded Mermaid well past the hour of goodly folk, hear an overly loud and drunken dwarf telling stories of his catches of the day. He stands atop a table in the dimly lit room, fire light dancing off his form as he waves his arms wildly in the telling.

"I'mma tell'n ye! The day 'ad been shyte, not'ta pot ta piss in'er a winder'ta throw it out! But thaar a stout stood when'a monster come'a crawlin frum'da depths! It 'ad the pull o' ten ogres and the fight o' a 'undred stout! Ole Butch plant'd 'is feet in'da sand 'an yell'd a curse ta the Bitch Queen 'erself!"

The dwarf jumps from table to chair, barely keeping balance in his drunken state. He lets out a long deep belch and continues his tale.

"Tha' be when the beast o'a fish jump'd 'is arse frum'da sea an look'd Ole Butch straight in 'is good eye befur dive'n ta the depths once muur! I pull'd 'gainst the devil as he try'd ta flee...but 'is arse was git'n whoop'd 'n me 'aul'd 'is big ole arse ashore!"

Butch puffed his chest as he told the tale. He held his empty mug out to the crowd for a refill.

"Sword face! Ye 'eard me right! Sword face!! Bigger'n anythin ye e'er saw! Go'n ask Barnacle Bob if'n ye ain't fer believe'n!"

As he finishes his statement the drunken dwarf hiccups and passes out cold. The unconscious stout hits his head on the table and another chair on his way down. Snoring can be heard almost instantly.

[Silver_Lining]

[The_Gruff_Stout]

Butch's good eye catches a glimpse of the poster and he reads it over as best he can.

"Fark'n fancy sailors, eh?" He shakes his head a bit. "Thought ol' Butch 'ad seen it all. Prolly raise more coin by take'n that ship and running 'er up and down the coast, take'n wut ye can."

He takes a step back and looks around, making sure nobody saw him talking to himself. Then heads off to the bar to grab a stiff drink.

[Silver_Lining]