# Phaezen's Last Breaths of Ashenport



## Phaezen (Feb 10, 2009)

Welcome to my first story hour .

*LAST BREATHS OF ASHENPORT
*_Edge of Sanity campaign_

Characters:

Darkey the Darkster - Tielfing Rogue
Tavia Glitterale - Halfling Rogue
Leroy - Dwarf Warlord
Unremittable Penance of Strife (Remi) - Dragonborn Warlord
Mackral Gladenspire - (Stormsoul/Windsoul)Genasi Swordmage


Introduction

The storm battered the shoreline as it had been for the last five days.  The rain came in almost horizontally whipped by the wind.  Lightning arced across the sky, briefly illuminating a small group of weary travelers making their way along a long abandoned road, more mud than anything else due to the intensity of the rain.

A dwarf and a dragonborn led the way, both veterans from the war, returning home after leading their units in countless battles.  Behind them a tiefling swaggered through the mud, giving the impressions of confidence in his strength and cunning.  Bringing up the rear of the group and seemingly most at home in the weather was a genasi, sword strapped to his waist, his hair seeming to move counter to the wind.  On his back in an improvised sling created from his backpack rode a halfling, small even for her race, cowering from the elements.

The group stopped in the lea of a wall, the remains of a ruined town, seemingly eaten by the elements for a short break before continuing.  The dwarf commented on the fact that in the four days since they were washed ashore by the shipwreck, they had only come across these ruins of villages and had not seen any other life, almost as if this stretch of coast was dead.  Tavia, shuddering at the thought, dug herself deeper into the backpack that was saving her the ignominy of disappearing chest deep into the mud on occasion.  The rest of the group looked out at the storm wondering if they would ever see the sun again.

Wearily the group left the relative dryness of their shelter and made their way further down the coast.  As the afternoon wore on, the storm carried on intensifying as it had on the previous days.  Suddenly Unremittable Penance of Strife, the dragonborn who the group had taken to calling Remi, came to a halt, over the howling wind he called out "lights, there are lights up ahead, some kind of town I think".

The group picked up their pace feeling hopeful for the first time since they made their way off the wrecked ship that had deposited them on this gods-forsaken stretch of coast that they would be able to spend an evening safe with the possibility of warm food and a few hours out of the rain.

*Next: *Any Port in a Storm in which the party find a warm welcome in the small town of Ashenport, as well as a rude awakening....


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## Phaezen (Feb 19, 2009)

*Part 2 Any Port in A Storm*

As they approached the town in the fading light, they noticed that it seemed to be in good repair, unlike the ruins they had been passing through.  The walls of many of the buildings looked as if they had been whitewashed although that was quickly loosing the battle against the onslaught of wind and rain.  The buildings were constructed of solid stone with heavy roofing suitable for surviving the onslaught of heavy coastal storms.  Most of the windows emanated the friendly light that originated from lanterns and cooking fires.  A weather beaten sign on the main road indicates that this is the town of Ashenport.

The second thing they started noticing was the smell of fish.  Even through the storm the smell was insidious Leroy remarked that he was glad that they approached the town in the storm as he could only imagine what the smell would be like in the summer heat.  Approaching one of the locals scurrying through the downpour, they party managed to get directions to an inn, The Smooth Sailing Inn and Tavern.  The party, with almost supernatural skill and speed, soon found themselves at the entrance to the tavern, an oddly shaped building that seemed to have grown organically, absorbing at least three buildings of different styles.

The first impression of the inside of the tavern reinforced that feeling with the floor of the common room split over three levels.  The tavern was full of locals staying out of the weather, keeping the serving staff on their toes.  A surly looking man standing behind the bar on the one end of the room gave the impression of proprietor.  The group stood in the doorway for a few moments, glad to be out of the seeming perpetual rain.  As they started scanning the area for an empty table they noticed they were not the only travellers in the inn.  

Three groups stood out in particular.  A half-elf, surrounded by a group of humans all sporting a tattoo of a gold leaf on their left shoulder.  She often gave broad smiles and raised her glass in toast to the second group.  A human, accompanied by what looked like hired guards who watched the half-elf, scowling in her direction.  The third a small human with two large guards sitting at his table watched the other visitors timidly, he studied the new arrivals as they walked in as if trying to gauge their intentions.

Steaming slightly in the warm interior of the tavern the party appropriated a bench near one of the fires and managed to flag down one of the serving wenches, a buxom blonde who introduced herself as Relina.  Using his charm, Mackral ordered food and drinks for the group, the food turning out to be the taverns speciality and indeed only dish, fish stew served with ale, which smelled suspiciously of fermented fish. 

After finishing the meal, Tavia decided to speak to the other travellers in the inn, to see what could be found out about the area.  The half-elf, Terza by name, introduced herself as a member of the Goldleaf consortium.  A brief friendly discussion reveals that she is in the town of Ashenport, as a representative of the Goldleaf consortium to secure trade rights in the artefacts that often washup or are dredged up in the fishing nets.  She indicated the surly looking human, who was scowling at her and Tavia, introducing him as Matthias Creel, a representative of a rival trading consortium who where after the same resources.  She also mentioned she had managed to acquire an audience with the Alderman of the town, a human by the name of Ritter, Matthias had only managed to secure an appointment for after the trade festival which the town was preparing for.  

Matthias proved to be as surly as his demeanour suggested, not volunteering too much more information.

The third traveller, a man by the name of Jhandal Pen at first seemed nervous of the party's intent.  But after they reassured him that they in fact were not interested in trading the artefacts that the town had uncovered, he introduced himself as a jeweller who had come to Ashenport to help restore the treasures that had been recovered.

The only other information of the note group discovered while talking with the locals that evening was the general anticipation of the upcoming Trade Fair which was due to start the following day, although the weather seemed to be likely to delay it.

Feeling the exertion of five days travelling through the storm the group eventually headed for their rooms, glad to be able to spend the evening in the dry, out of the rain.

The following morning, roughly 2 hours before sunrise an alien high-pitched keening, resounding with loss and sadness woke the party.  The keening cut through the raging storm echoing in the heads of the group as it roused them from their fatigue induced slumber overwhelming their senses that they almost didn't notice the commotion in the inn.  

*Next: *Tempest of Madness in which our intrepid adventurers skirmish on the beach and try to get to the bottom of Ashenport


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