Romnez has taken notice of the new faces arriving. He doesn’t have much interest in introducing himself but he walks to the others to board the ship soon.

Zaida hesitates, not from fear of the gruff half-orc, but from the uneasy stillness of the water behind her. She spares it one last glance, then looks ahead, grateful not to face it anymore… though the boat is not much comfort either.

“Zaida. Zaida Levau.”

As everyone else boards the Sharkfin, Romnez finally steps in front of the half-orc.

“Romnez Drazhinov.”

The orc gives a quick nod of acknowledgement, followed by a curt

“Name’s Dorn, I should be on your list”

You all direct your eyes towards the gangway above. As the clouds pass and shadows follow. A figure comes into view, a female, a half-orc. She heavily scarred face, a wild mane of greying red hair tied down underneath a bandana. Her features are powerful; two lower canines that jut out - Silver and Gold. She peers down at you all. Silence still lingering.

A moment of silence ... All crew men have stopped what they were doing. Then, a creaking door is heard within the boat. The heavy clomp of boots echoed across the wooden hull, deliberate and unhurried.

Without a word, she reaches into her pocket - scared arms; a record history that showcases that she is veteran of navel skirmishes. Unfolds a piece of paper....

“I assume you’re Alder’s “special cargo” we hauling.”

Darting her eyes at Choklat

“And I’m not the cap’ - she is..”

Rackha delivered a three-tone whistle that danced through the air in a mesmerising cadence.

The plasmoid does a theatrical salute at the half-orc.

“Right, captain! You can call me Wren! A total pleasure!”

The Plasmoid catches Rachka attention. First sizing you up and down and then the rest of the group.

Rackha putting the last bitten coin back into pouch and hands pouches a pair of the sharkfin crew men.

“Merchant load is all accounted for, secure these.”

The captain reads a piece of paper

⬅️ Latest happening

Answered and conversations - quick overview

Rackha still examining the coins and without looking up. Hand gestures for the next lot to move up. Biting down on coin and with a muffled tone:

The dock’s bustle resumes—cargo loads piece by piece, with payment of coin before boarding. You see the orc bites a coin with each bag given and waves them in.

“I know your soul meant no harm, but titles never carried much weight to me anyways. It’s what folks do while they are livin’ that counts.”

“Seems we’re all huntin’ the same shadows then, good. Easier to find when more eyes are open.”

Dorn takes in all the new faces, keeping an eye on the Triton who wordlessly walked past. He follows the group to the ship, turning to Choklat’s companion

“Nice to see a fellow Orc joining the expedition. I’m guessin’ all you folk were also hired for the Solmor job?”

Zaida follows the others, but as she approaches the gangplank, she stops short.The usual rhythym of her staffs tapping becomes uneven, hesitant and her gaze falls to the restless water below. A sharp, shallow breath escapes her lips, as if letting a dark memory go. Gripping her staff a little tighter, as if if summoning all her will, she makes her way aboard the ship.

Dorn

Zaida Levau

Wrennedith

“Oh, I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Zaida!”

“So Dorn, Zaida, and Choklat. Choklat! What a lovely name! Aaand... Choklat’s companion! And you too?”

“Let’s board then!”

“Greetings! I’d like to go to Saltmarsh, please!”

🎲7 Eyes on the back of Mordrin - As you begin walking towards the sharkfin, you notice he slightly keeps turning his head to the right. Looking towards that direction, you see another ship docked on the other side of the pier. Another ship, similar size. Assorted crew men by the looks of it. Stocking supplies; not cargo.

“Hello! Is this the Sharkfin? I’m supposed to meet someone in Saltmarsh?”

The plasmoid raises an arm and five long fingers appear at its end. She shakes the orc’s hand. Contrary to what her appearance might suggest, she’s not slimy to the touch, but she’s very soft, like a rubber ball. She bows her head slightly.

“Fantastic! You can call me Wren! I so hope...”

“Spirits? Huh... Ominous... Are you a shaman of some sorts?”

“Till we meet again...”

Her hood shifts with the breeze and a fleeting glimpse of pale clouded eyes catches the light.. then gone. She carries the ghost of a smile.

“Some call me shaman, others have called me worse.. yet somehow all of them ended up needing me in the end. You all may call me Zaida.”

“Spirits whispered your names through the cattails.. they don’t stir without reason. Seems we walk the same path for now..”

“Indeed I am, looks like we’ll be working together. Nice to meet ya, the name’s Dorn, here’s to hopin’ the job goes smooth and Mr. Solmor pays us on time.”

He holds his hand out

Zaida drifts towards the ship like a slow moving shadow, staff tapping once with each step. She stops just short of the group, eyes unreadable beneath her hood. She murmurs low and grainy..

The colour I’ll use as Dungeon master and Game text

Though I may use alternative colours for NPCS

Romnez

“Why, Anders Solmor, yes! I was told to investigate a certain house in Saltmarsh in his name, or something. It sounds fun. Are you also going there?”

As Dorn approaches the ship, he turns to look at the blue figure

“Sorry for bothering you, but I couldn’t help but overhear what you were sayin’ and that someone wouldn’t happen to be a man named Anders now would it? I apologize for takin’ up your time if that’s not the case”

A figure strides to the vessel, and seems interested in boarding. She’s tall, and her body seems to be made of blue jelly. She’s wearing a dress, a sparkling shawl, and a white mask that depicts a smiling expression. She’s carrying a backpack, a typical adventuring one, three daggers on her belt, and a purple crystal, entangled in several strings, hangs from her waist. She looks around curiously. Her voice is lively, and she seems very laid-back.

Romnez stays where he is, waiting for the end of the cargo and for the others to go to the ship first.

Dorn hears the call by Rakha and packs up his half read letters, rests the hilt of his sword on his shoulder, and heads towards the Sharkfin as well, falling in stride behind Snaglak

“Neexsihht!”

then fades into the bustling crowd

Mordrin gives a nod of goodbye, turning around and eyes each of you. His gaze lingers ... memorizing your faces, before he departs with a final nod and one final statement:

“Pleasure doing business with you as always, best of luck with your affairs Mordrin.”

Rackha scans the paper, and signals the sharkfin crewmen to load the cargos from Mordrin’s cart. Then handing back the paper back.

Hands Rackha folded parchment and a velvet coin bag of what to be a larger size than what you’ve witnessed from other contributions given.

“Here to personally to deliver my cargo this time; as cleared by your captain.”

“Nice to see you too, Stormbreaker, Rackha...”

“Well well, if it isn’t Mordrin Silverbatch in the flesh. What brings your face here to the docks.” A smirk reveals the orc’s golden tooth.

Mordrin Silverbatch approaches.

Her bare feet are soft against the wooden docks. Small bones and charms on her weathered staff clack softly with each step, like a rhythm of whispered secrets. A faint smell trails her - damp earth, salt and a hint of smoky herbs.

As you watch Mordrin’s fingers work his rings, you notice the movements aren’t random fidgeting – three precise turns of the silver, two of the gold. Like a clockwork signal, perhaps to alert someone... or something. A pattern too deliberate to be mere anxiety.

Beneath the layers and silence, it’s clear: Zaida is someone who speaks to powers older than names and sometimes, they answer.

Most only see the cloak, heavy and weathered, always drawn tight. Now and then, the wind shifts and her hood slips just enough to catch a glimpse of intricately marked skin in chalk-white paint, thick coiled braids, and eyes that don’t seem to track the living so much as weigh them.

The docks are alive with noise—ropes creaking, sailors shouting, gulls crying overhead—but Zaida moves through it untouched, like a shadow slipping between sunbeams. She says nothing, doesn’t barter or bustle.

Zaida claims she has unfinished business in Saltmarsh. She doesn’t speak about the details, only that it’s personal and long overdue.

You hear some shouting and see a hooded person in dark clothes leave a nearby building, they turn a corner and slow down. They lean next to the wall in a shadowy spot, and take off their hood. A subtle glow emanates now from their neck. He’s wearing a black top that fits slimly, and baggy pants that are quite worn but still in one piece. A few seconds later you see two men turn the corner and hastily run through the docks, trying to find someone. They split up, but don’t seem to find who they are looking for here, so they run further. He pulls out a sandwich from his pocket, and eats it. You can see now that this man is a triton, around his twenties, his body is toned, but still slim, and has a light, muted green skin, and a tail with blueish-purple fins. After finishing his food he walks towards the ship, quite comfortably, even if he was being chased five minutes ago. As he walks closer you notice his facial features. His face is human-like, the only triton feature being his ears, he has yellow eyes and a hair color similar to his fins. He has gill-like openings near the lower part of his neck which emanate a blue glow with changing intensity like breathing. His scarred nose is dripping blood, which he wipes, and then sits down near a wall, playing with a coin, and waiting for the captain of the ship you are also about to board.

27 years old • 6′5″/ 195.5 cm • 216 lbs / 98 kg

Wrennedith is blue, and seems to he made of water. Of course, upon closer inspection it’s evident she’s not liquid, but jelly-like. Her “hair” is lighter blue, while her torso is darker. She seems to have really bad bags under her sleepy, dark eyes, although that’s just how her face shapes normally. She usually wears a mask with a gentle expression to appear friendlier. Her legs and arms, which don’t have joints so they move in a weird way, are proportionally longer than a humanoid’s, and her torso is proportionally shorter as well.

Romnez, seeing a rich person who has probably spent all their life in a fancy palace, lets out a grunt, which is a bit louder than he expected it to be.

He continues his walk down the dock, keeping his head down as he does. As he gets closer, you can make out some of his features, namely his grey skin, his golden hued pupils and the points of tusks peeking out from under his cowl, all of which are features of an Orc.

- A half-dozen crew members will accompany you, including her first mate, Rakha Stormbreaker.

Dorn works as a sellsword, lending his blade out to the highest bidder. His goal is to try and earn enough gold or build a large enough of a reputation to gain ownership over a sizable plot of land, on which he plans to rebuild his clan’s now destroyed village. As of right now, he’s mostly using his

He gives a curt nod of acknowledgement to any party member already there, before sitting down, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the dock. He pulls out from his pack a stack of sealed letters, which he meticulously reads through while awaiting the arrival of the ship.

In his left hand he carries a Greatsword in it’s scabbard, the leather of which is starting to peel off, and the strap he would ordinarily use to carry it on his back snapped in two. He gives a long stare at the coin purse in his right palm, before sighing and stashing it on his hip.

The sound of heavy metal thudding against the wooden docks alert you to a large man clad in a worn, near dilapidated set of plate armor. You can see rusting having occurred along the creases around his joints. A scarf is wrapped around his neck and mouth, and is pulled over his head like a hood.

earnings to help financially support his now displaced clan members. He hopes this job in Saltmarsh pans out, his people need the coin.

Wrennedith’s Patron is a Nereid called Danallis, and Wren is determined to win her heart. So Danallis gave her a challenge to prove her worth: to become a hero. Wren has accepted this quest as part of accomplishing that challenge.

Kaldrak Vorzath

After leaving the safety of the swamp, Bones was overwhelmed by what, to him at least, was the hustle and bustle of a major city with it’s pulse on international trade and high finance. But what was in fact a small fishing port. To make ends meet he’s been bartering his services as a local neighborhood healer. Trading for fish and produce with cures for scurvy and whatnot. Doing the same old everyday made him a bit grumpy. It’s not why he left the swamp. The magic of the world he’d read about had been a let down so far. So after seeing the flyer for adventure, he leapt at the opportunity to explore a haunted house

Anders specifically sought adventurers from outside Saltmarsh, believing that outsiders would approach the mystery with open minds—and fewer fears. Why did you take the job? Was it the coin, the thrill of adventure, or perhaps a desire to prove yourself? Answer here to let others understand each others motiviation.

Everyone feel free to do so as well

Seafaring terms

Kaldrak steps onto the docks of Waterdeep, where the sharp scent of fish and tar swirls in the air, mingling with the briny sea breeze. The smell is foreign to him—an assault on senses accustomed to the refined halls of noble estates. But he straightens his back and forces himself to breathe it in, willing himself to appear unshaken. This, too, is part of the path he must tread to gain the loyalty of the people and earn Seryth’s heart.

Sure, sure

You do this; the candle makes a small ‘splosh’ sound - briefly sinking before rising up the surface of the water. No has noticed this.

(I want to “accidentally” slip with my hands and throw the candle over the pier into the water, while Morbin isn’t looking.)

also did someone say parrot? I’ve never seen one of those!

Anders Solmor

Romnez continues to walk towards the Sharkfin, as he reaches the ship, he sits down on the edge of the pier. He looks at the cargo and the others who he’s going to board the ship with soon.

Roll me a

I point out the orc walking down the pier.

Between the bustling dock workers and conversation between

The orc places herself between the ship and the cargo, arms crossed, one hand resting near the hilt of a curved blade. She watches each crate with a sharp eye, letting nothing pass without her nod.

The purple orc at the pier’s bell rings it three more times.

clang, clang, clang.

A sharp clang cuts through your conversation— the bell at the end of the pier rings out, three times, loud and deliberate.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Heads turn.

Then begins carting his supplies towards the ship; couple feet in he turns back.

“Alive, Triton.”

She turns and bellows in a rough voice,

“Sharkfin’s takin’ cargo! If you’ve got crates and coin, load em in! Get to the shark fin now!! — we don’t wait long!”

Looking at the group behind you and the sharkfin .

“Look like she’s ready.”

“Alright Fine, 30 pieces for the capture, alive.”″

“Light this under clear moonlight. I’ll find you—and you’ll be rewarded.”

Your criminal experience revolves around the dockside districts of cities/villages. Including Waterdeep. You learned how the pirates wield influence through trade and their network of compromised merchants; the weight of your “Sea Witches” Medallion is still unknown. (Exploration through Roleplay is needed)

ya i’m not really about capturing crims. I’m more of the healer/adventurer sort. But it seems like all these other guys seem pretty hyped on the prospect so I guess I’ll come with to make sure things don’t get out of hand

Hearing the commotion behind him, Romnez turns his head back for a second, then tells whispers to the merchant, while pointing towards the others behind him:

I’m sure you don’t want to pay each of those four to do the same.

Hmmm... Perhaps that purple orc is involved?

The Mordin’s willingness to pay for the capture seems a little too casual, like they’re trying to downplay something.

Romnez straightens his posture.

Sure, I’ll take care of them. I want the payment up front, this job is more dangerous than collecting fruit.

Snaglak, you seem to paying attention to the exchange between

Romnez, seeing that the merchant recognized his medallion, pauses for a moment. He looks down to the ground and thinks for a little.

Don’t recall anything about the berries - You just used in cooking in the past - rumors that it was paid handsomely by other chefs you were working with.

“Pirate,”

“Yes, yes, I’m happy to pay for your services. Thirty gold pieces if you can capture one of these creatures.”

“May I have your name Triton?”

love it. It chaos reign.

“Sea witches...”

“I haven’t seen these in quite some time.”

“I do apologize for my tone earlier. Though now I understand why...”

Roll me a

Mordrin’s fingers twist his rings as he studies the Medallion, a memory flickering across his face. His voice takes on a measured, calm tone.

Ugh, only an 8 (7+1)

Intimidation checks usually falls iun the camp of aggressive so... use with care:

as for

With the original text - this isn’t apparent

bones has been listening to the exchange of lore while he adds a berry to his inventory

This medallion is made of gold. On the front is a ship’s helm pressed into it, with a blue gem in the middle and green gems on each of the handles. On the back, there’s a trident with two mermaids on the sides, both holding it in the middle. The medallion has two holes in it, one at the top and one at the bottom, so it can be hung upright or upside down.

Descriptor of the

And sees the Triton, The gold medallion dangling before him. He he stares at it ... admiring the craft, curiosity of market value but also remembers ...

Side note: Some merchants use pirates as a way to save coin - yet Illegal, there is no harm* other than profit. *Caveat: This also means undocumented cargo and unknown contraband could fall into the cities/village market.

Morbin’s ears perk with the mention of Aarakocra’s

Def don’t want that Moonscale one, so I’ll take a Serpent’s kiss and a Blood Pearl

Fruits choices if you’ve been granted - or trying to steal...

Romnez squats down and looks down at the merchant. He speaks in a quiet voice:

You have a problem with the Aarakocra, right? I can get rid of them, if you pay me now.

“Your help is also appreciated. You ... take only one!”

Add any two from this list to your inventory

Morbin’s returns his gaze to the Triton.

I take two and express my gratitude.

“Your help was most appreciated. These fruits aren’t going to gather themselves, and a merchant’s day is never simple. A small token of thanks might be in order - please take some fruits, more than one!”

Morbin’s gaze respectfully acknowledges Kaldrak’s nobility, and knows that he has cultivated local allegiances.

Notices Kaldrak’s purposeful stride and refined bearing, adjusting his merchant’s pitch with subtle deference (You see him pay greater attention to Kaldrak)

(Word travels fast, especially for his merchants like him)

“What he means to say is we’d appreciate some recognition for our assistance, but it’s not necessary.” Glares at Romnez

He then goes to the merchant and looks down to eye contact with them. He speaks in a cold, calm voice, offputtingly dissimilar from how he first spoke to the merchant.

Surely you won’t let me go empty handed after helping you out so much, right?

Romnez rolls his eyes and goes to take back a batch of the fruits he picked up, which he puts down next to the merchant in a very visible way, to make sure they see it.

The merchant - Reshifts focus as he sees ...

Stoking his chin in thought.

Ah they are some what indeed. Close to regions of Saltmarsh. These are meticulously imported by my trade routes. A big hit with the nobles here in waterdeep.

“Ah thank you kind sir. Please, help yourself to some of my fruits. Free of charge! Only one....”

My character has 4 insight if it’s relevant (0 pursuasion)

Insight works better here. So ya trying to get a sense of trustworthiness or if he’s being racist or something lol

Here! take a fruit - pay me no mind. Just lost in thought...

“My name’s Mordrin Silverbatch”

(with inner rage burning inside again - he gets lost in thought)

“These winged bandits... insurance will be complicated. I hope the city guards catch them.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not excited about associating with you either.”

Adjusting the multiple luxury rings on his fingers, the merchant’s bravado barely masks a tremor of underlying anxiety.

“Bah, it will be fine,”

Romnez replies, in a slightly irritated way

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you two are also coming”

Keep an eye out for opportunistic thieves (DC 12 Perception)

while scratching my brow innocently, and occassionally scratching my chin, in an attempt to sound innocent

oh that sucks , well hopefully it all works out for you, and your insurance is on point.

otherwise they might ask why a local gang would knock over a cart full of expensive merchandise and yet not even attempt to take of it..

Or simply observe and continue to the ship

“Indeed, I am. Appreciate the help, friend.”

Alt+Drag the box to not disturb cards. This can be any size, but it should aim to contain only the most recent messages from anyone.

Attempt to calm the agitated merchant (DC 10 Persuasion)

You quickly assess the situation, and your sharp culinary instincts spot one fruit immediately: the Serpent’s Kiss Berry. Known for its sweet-burning sensation, it’s typically used sparingly in cooking. You’ve only ever worked with small amounts, but consuming a whole fruit is rumored to have magical properties.

Lift the cart // help collect the scattered fruit and toppled crates (DC 12 Athletics check to lift the heavier crates)

“Ahhhh yes, indeed, quite laborious work around these docks,′ he forces a laugh, adjusting his fine vest. ’They topple my cart like clockwork, all because I suggested they scram! As if they could afford such delicacies. I hear they run with some local gang...”

ya lets do that, so 11 for

The merchant starts to snap, but his demeanor shifts upon noticing your halfling heritage. He straightens his collar with practiced precision.

- Faerie Fire: Causes the eater to faintly glow with an ethereal blue light, making them difficult to hide in shadows.

You can pick an assortment to make the 5: - Moonscale Fruit - Blood pearl - Serpents Kiss Berry

“tell me about it. It’s so hard to do honest business in the city. Why do you think it’s the Aarakocra?”

- Lunar Guidance: Grants an innate sense of direction under the night sky, aiding navigation through unknown lands

As usual Bones arrives late to the party. Hearing the merchant in a tizzy and seeing others already helping or stealing the fallen fruit, he instead attempts to lighten the mood

Years in the criminal underbelly have taught you well. A fluid motion - natural as breathing - have refined your

With your powerful build, you effortlessly right the cart and its cargo. As you stack the remaining scattered crates, one catches your eye - a newer trade mark partially scratched away. Beneath the current emblem of a pearl wrapped in seaweed, you glimpse an older symbol: a serpent coiled around a spired tower, water flowing from its mouth. Under this, you see the Draconic script: ′Kra’ssk Tor′ Draconic Language required to read. But you manage to lock it into memory.

Helping placing back the fruits back into the now up right cart, thanks to

“Yes, yes, fetch me any fruit you see!” he snaps, then mutters,

“Those blasted Aarakocra rascals... Where are the dock guards when you need them?”

History 13 + 4 = 17

The halfling merchant dabs his forehead with a silk handkerchief, not bothering to look up.

I start gathering fruit and placing it back in the cart.

Romnez steps closer to the cart

May I help you?

As you make your way toward the designated meeting point, you notice a small commotion near one of the cargo staging areas. A merchant’s cart has overturned, spilling crates of what appears to be exotic fruit across the dock. The merchant, a well-dressed halfling, is frantically trying to salvage what he can while dock workers navigate around the mess. Several dockhands are already helping, but more hands would certainly speed things up.

Romnez stands up, walks past Kaldrak, completely ignoring him, and walks around on the docks with his hands in his pockets, looking around impatiently, trying find the person who made him come here.

“Yeh, I wouldn’t expect to see me here either.”

The salty tang of the sea hangs thick in the air at Waterdeep’s bustling docks, mingling with the sharper notes of tar and fish guts. Seagulls wheel overhead, their raucous cries punctuating the clamour of workers unloading cargo, sailors shouting orders, and the occasional splash of water against the creaking hulls of moored ships.

Chapter one

The Sharkfin

Romnez is running as far away as he can from his previous city, so this deal came at a right time. Going to Saltmarsh will surely get them off his track. The coin is whatever, he’s stolen

Meet Anders at the Saltmarsh.

- The ship’s captain, Grendanna Stormbreaker, is expecting you. Payment for the voyage is required before boarding.

- 20 GP up front to cover travel expenses.

You’ll board the Sharkfin, a ship docked at Waterdeep’s port. The journey to Saltmarsh will take three days by sea.

To the players / characters

- 150 GP per person upon completion (with potential bonuses depending on your findings).

Initially - wrote this as you’ve assembled individually; but happy for you to paired or trio if you want to join backstories; open to re-writes. But can arrive individually. Note: You’re going to fuse as one group to keep story goin’ (after you set sail)

You’ve all accepted a quest to investigate a supposedly haunted house in Saltmarsh. While the townsfolk believe in the haunting, Anders is skeptical. He seeks adventurers to uncover the truth, as no one in town dares to venture there. That’s where you come in.

are a loose collection of pirate gangs that onced banded together for territory and loot. The islands off the coast of saltmarsh are basically the Caribbean Sea.

Waterdeep docks

Saltmarsh is a quiet fishing village known for its superstitions. The “haunted house” looms on the cliffs just outside town, abandoned for decades. Locals whisper of strange lights, eerie noises, and sailors gone missing near its shadow. Anders, a wealthy merchant and aspiring noble, believes there’s more to the story and has offered this reward to uncover the truth.

Locale Background

Quest giver, you have not met him, only known by the words of a messenger. You are to meet after the investigation at Saltmarsh. He is a young Councilman that fell into power by bloodline, after his mothers death.