Vier'zt is still amazed at how the fog, something new to him, obscures the Low Lantern until you get within a hundred feet of it. He climbs the wooden staircase from the wharf's edge to the main deck, walks straight past a padlocked wooden hatch fitted with windows, to a set of stairs leading down to what's called the Tavern Deck.
Entering the taproom and gambling hall is unlike anything Vier'zt has experienced on the surface world in his short time above ground. It is sparsely populated so early in the day, but the smell of sweat and cheap ale is ever-present. The owner,
Laraelra, glances at him as he enters but when she recognizes him, she returns her attention to the small glass of wine sitting at her elbow.
He walks around the center mast and past a table where a three men play Baldur's Bones. He recognizes one of them,
Skadric, a soldier of the Flaming Fist who is allegedly suspended for something he did (or didn't do) while on duty.
He spies his companions in their usual place at the farthest table in the bow. He takes a seat and sits down. Per usual,
Beldan speaks first.
"Were you followed, cousin? The streets are getting more crowded by the day."
"And you're getting more paranoid by the day, brother!" Aerith chimes in, giving Vier'zt a smile. She takes out an ornate flask, unscrews the lid and takes a sip, before offering it to Vier'zt.
Though they are twins, Beldan's eyes are a rich purple color, piercing almost cold, while Aerith's are softer, warm and gray. It's not the first time Vier'zt has noticed the difference.
Beldan leans forward.
"I ask, dear sister, because I believe we are being followed. The past few times we have been here, so has a duergar. Why would one such as he be here except for us?"
Aerith arches an eyebrow.
"You're right, Beldan. He's likely an assassin! Come to slit our throats for abandoning our homeland! Look out, there he is!"
Beldan flinches, jerking around, a curved dagger somehow in his grip. When he sees no skulking assassin, and hears the chuckling from his sister, he rounds on her with fire in his eyes.
"It...is...no laughing matter, dear sister. We have been here just long enough to get comfortable, to let down our guard. And when we least expect it..."
He sighs and looks down at the table, replacing the dagger in its sheath, tucked away somewhere inside his cloak. His purple eyes roll up and fix on Vier'zt.
"This city...it is full of evil beings. I fear we have rushed headlong into danger. Who knows where..."
Beldan stops talking because he is looking at the two figures who just walked into the taproom.
"Well now, there's something you don't see every day." Aerith purrs.
Tommy & Ostis...
Fog obscures the Low Lantern until you get within a hundred feet of it, whereupon its tall masts and creaking bulk come into view. The converted ship has rigging but no sails, and is anchored to the wharf by thick chains. A wooden staircase climbs from the wharf's edge to the main deck. A lantern at the bow casts an eerie green light to signify that the tavern is open for business.
The main deck of the old ship features wooden steps that climb to the forecastle and aftcastle, with another set of stairs descending into the ship. A padlocked wooden hatch fitted with windows acts as a skylight for the deck below - the tavern proper, visible through the hatch's glass panes. Four dead seagulls lie on the deck and two ravens squawk at you from the crow's nest, a forty-foot climb up the ship's rigging.
(Let me know if you want to look around or investigate anything up here...)
Down the stairs, Tommy and Ostis enter the taproom which reeks of sweat, cheap ale, rotting timbers and old vomit. Tommy's eyes water from the odors, but Ostis doesn't seem to mind. Three bouncers stand around watching the few patrons that are here. Sitting at the short end of the bar, is a woman with a live crab clinging to her shoulder.
"Well met! My name is Laraelra Thundreth, but folks around here call me the Captain. If you're thirsting for a beverage or looking to gamble, you've come to the right place, but watch your step. Things can get pretty messy around here."
The tavern is lit by hanging oil lanterns and whatever natural light slips through the glass hatch and the ship's grimy portholes.
"What's your poison gents?" asks a man behind the bar.
) tommy will try to go for a second round with laraelra and say something about how repeat customers are better for business