Blood, Plunder and D&D

“Oh the door been misbehaving again has it? Aye it does that occasionally. Got a will o it’s own that door.” BlackJack Macafetty  greeted them from behind his bar, polishing one of his many mugs, the motion completely ingrained and on autopilot from years of repetition. He appeared almost exactly as they had left him, three months ago when the Lady Jezebel had sailed from the great metropolis of Haven Town and into the wilds of the Northern Reach. “So you lot aren’t actually back in Haven Towne at all then?” “No?” Dakhir replied bemusedly. “We’re at least a thousand leagues away in a town called Puerto Lejos . Or at least I think we are?”. BlackJack looked blank at the name of the town. “Not familiar with Puerto Lejos, so must be quite a ways away.” “Far into the Northern Reach. We were just walking down the Main Street and we saw the door to this Inn. How is that possible?” Dakhir asked. BlackJack shrugged.  “Magic. Black Alice’s magic. Or at least my da said it all started back in

Ricmo’s nose wrinkled. Blue Archie had evidentially been hitting the sauce again. The smell was pretty extreme in the relatively confined space of the Great Cabin on the Lady Jezebel. The Great Cabin was large, the largest on the ship, but it was still a bit cramped with all of the heroes crowded into to. And Blue Archie. Who smelled.  “Guess keeping off the stuff was a lot to ask of the old guy, given we were staying at a winery” he thought. Regardless they needed the old sailor sober. He might be a drunk, but he’d been sailing the Northern Reach for decades and no one knew these waters better. The Lady Jezebel was nearing the approaches to Puerto Lejos and those approaches were known to be hazardous. And not just from a nautical perspective. Ricmo gazed out of the bay windows toward the sky worriedly. Far above, almost beyond the limits of his vision he could make out a small red dot, far up and behind them. He knew it was only small because it was so far up in the sky. Up close, th

Freddy couldn’t sleep, and as was often his custom when insomnia bit, he was walking the deck of the Lady Jezebel staring out over the ocean, singing quietly to himself, lost in his thoughts.  The winds were light and steady, the sea was calm and gentle and the few sailors on duty had little to do. They  were mostly clustered near the stern, talking quietly to one another and smoking, enjoying the balmy tropical night.   Freddy leaned on the railing amidships, staring out over the glassy sea at the impossibly huge full moon. Absentmindedly he swung his guitar free and strummed a chord.  From above, high in the darkness of the sails and rigging, he was surprised to hear an answer. Sweet and clear, the sound of a violin sent a haunting refrain down into the night.  Freddy paused his strumming and looked up into darkness. Even with eyes that could pierce the darkest night, he could see nothing.  The refrain rang out again, sweet and clear under the moonlight. And again, as if beckoning. C