May 31, 2019 5:59 pm
Seated around a table in a small tavern called the Snapping Line in the small settlement of Saltmarsh is the most unusual group of people anywhere within at least a hundred miles. A heavily muscled lizardman, a dim-witted turtle-man, a powerful-looking warrior woman, a perpetually happy minstrel, and a pair of half-elven twins that could not be more different in interests and temperament.
It's a night like any other and the tavern is full of people enjoying their food, drink, and companions. As the ale flows, people begin telling tales, each one taller than the last. Most of these are clearly drunken boasts, but you do hear one that catches your interest.
"I'm tellin' you that it's true!" a drunk man, Dren Wormwood by name, slurs to his companions, "I been there and it really IS haunted!"
His companions, getting drunker by the moment, are now starting to pay attention, "Yeah, then go ahead and tell us what you saw!"
Dren nods, "Well, I was a little bit hungry on my way back from fishin' and I figured, 'Hey, maybe there's something inside to eat!', you know?" he begins, "So I wandered in the back door and started to head downstairs, to the cellar, you know? So, on my way down, it got real cold and a ghost appeared at the bottom of the stairs!"
His friends are tense, listening now with rapt attention.
"I saw that ghost and it reached for me, so I ran as fast as I could," Dren says, "It followed me right to the back door, but it turned around and went back in once I got out of the house."
His friends sit back, looking exhausted from just listening to the man's tale. Once the tale is through, someone orders a drink for Dren, who sits back, looking satisfied.
You all know by now the tales of the haunted house a few miles up the coast. It's been abandoned for years after the original owner, a reclusive alchemist, died under mysterious circumstances. Over the past few months, you've heard tales of noises and lights from the place and rumor has it that the ghost of the alchemist is awake and wants to protect the vast treasures he's accumulated over his lifetime.
It's a night like any other and the tavern is full of people enjoying their food, drink, and companions. As the ale flows, people begin telling tales, each one taller than the last. Most of these are clearly drunken boasts, but you do hear one that catches your interest.
"I'm tellin' you that it's true!" a drunk man, Dren Wormwood by name, slurs to his companions, "I been there and it really IS haunted!"
His companions, getting drunker by the moment, are now starting to pay attention, "Yeah, then go ahead and tell us what you saw!"
Dren nods, "Well, I was a little bit hungry on my way back from fishin' and I figured, 'Hey, maybe there's something inside to eat!', you know?" he begins, "So I wandered in the back door and started to head downstairs, to the cellar, you know? So, on my way down, it got real cold and a ghost appeared at the bottom of the stairs!"
His friends are tense, listening now with rapt attention.
"I saw that ghost and it reached for me, so I ran as fast as I could," Dren says, "It followed me right to the back door, but it turned around and went back in once I got out of the house."
His friends sit back, looking exhausted from just listening to the man's tale. Once the tale is through, someone orders a drink for Dren, who sits back, looking satisfied.
You all know by now the tales of the haunted house a few miles up the coast. It's been abandoned for years after the original owner, a reclusive alchemist, died under mysterious circumstances. Over the past few months, you've heard tales of noises and lights from the place and rumor has it that the ghost of the alchemist is awake and wants to protect the vast treasures he's accumulated over his lifetime.
