Welcome to Soglash
A town built over the rubble and rot of failed buildings before it. Soglash was originally built as shacks scattered along the ground, but as unnaturally high tides, wet weather and hurricanes took their toll on the buildings and drowned it again and again, the folk of Soglash learned their lesson. They began building their town as a massive, extended wooden dock suspended on hard-wood stilts over both the water and land. A rotting town of misery and shady dealings, is Soglash. A sanctuary for thieves, pirates and those who wish to be forgotten, or to forget. It is reputed that anything can be bought or sold in Soglash, for the right price.
Soglash does not have any official ruling caste; the only people who have the most influence are those who have money and the influence or fear factor to hold onto it. Pirate lords; Mob bosses; even Assassins who nobody would dare steal from are the most influential people in town. To get power in Soglash you must either have the money to pay someone to do dirty work for you, or be the one willing to do the dirty work yourself.The Sodden Sailor
A seedy looking tavern by the name of "The Sodden Sailor". The tavern itself is suspended over the edge of the bay, supported by barnacle-encrusted beams which jut out from the water. The woodwork of the place shows signs of age and rot, however as a whole the building seems fairly sound. The Sodden Sailor holds four simple bedrooms on the second floor, each with two beds and meager amenities, and the lower floor holds a large, wood-fire warmed room with several rickety tables and chairs; a place to eat, drink and relax after a wearying day on working the docks of Soglash or hunting for game in the moors inland. Run by Olluc Ruse, the place is also known by the townsfolk as 'Ruse's Boozes.' Olluc is a burly, wrinkled man with a limp, his weathered skin and crude disposition suggesting a history of much sea-travel. Although the man is not above a laugh, he will not take roughhousing or threats lightly in The Sodden Sailor, and stores a gnarled club behind the bar for trouble-makers. Additionally, Olluc has several levers behind the bar which can open trap-doors beneath peoples' feet, causing them to fall straight through the floor and into the briny muck below. It is a no-nonsense way of removing trouble.Atacuso Veithar
This night, The Sodden Sailor was quiet. Olluc wiped down the bar with a careless hand and dirty cloth, and a single serving girl weaved her way through the four patrons of the place. In a cleared space near the fire a skinny, grey-'stached bard sat, a meandering wail coming forth as he slid his bow across a poorly crafted three-string Rebec. It was late, and the fire had died down largely to glowing embers, casting shadows across the room which was nearly as eerie as the mists outside. Atacuso Veithar entered the tavern and removed his sodden cloak, hanging it on a hook on the wall. The half-elf adjusted the halberd uncomfortably on his back; he was wearied and it showed; he had travelled for several days now, his first trek out from the Swynmoor swamps! Though he occasionally passed through the ramshackle towns along Voskinsar's paths, he always ended up bedding in the wild; his hunter instincts making him more comfortable out there, while in this unfamiliar territory. He wearied of waking up sodden, though, and when the lights of Soglash shone like a beacon on the horizon, he decided that this night, he would find a nice, dry bed!
Atacuso glanced around momentarily - garnering no reaction from the other patrons but a nod and a wary smile from Olluc; the hunter's patchwork gator-hide granting him a second, curious glance by the tavern owner. Before he even had a chance to move, a small-framed brunette serving girl arrived at his side, eyes wide as she stared unashamedly at the Swynnish man's somewhat fey features. "Welcome to Ruse's Boozes m'lord. Yeh hungry? Care for a drink, mayhap? Say, are yeh from tha' swamps over east m'lud? I hear they gots big crocodile men what 'kin eat you up in one gulp!" the girl smiled toothily at Atacuso.
"Cassa!" Olluc barked from the bar, "Let the man be, would you!?" Olluc gave Atacuso a diplomatic smile, "Aye be sorry about that, sire; she is young and eager. Please be makin' yourself comfortable!" Aredhel Milarien
Aredhel had been woken up quite by an odd sound outside his door. The Elfish spellcaster had made it to Soglash some time earlier in the day. Though he had been to this town before, the nature of Soglash was such that every time one visits, old buildings have been abandoned and new ones erected. Thus, he explored the town briefly, got bored and then made his way of Olluc's place of business. The Val-a-Twyr man had dined on a hot and sour stew of scampi, eel-head and some other unidentifiable sea-creature before engaging in light conversation with Olluc, who was more than happy to regale stories of his youth as a sailor, hunting for crustacean along the rocks of the smaller islands in the Spiked Sea. The pale elf had heard the stories before, but humored Olluc; this was not the first time Aredhel had been to the Sodden Sailor. In fact, the elf had a hand in divising the mechanics of the lever and trap-door system which Olluc had in place. Eventually, Aredhel grew wearied and retired to his room on the second floor before passing out almost instantly.
But now, he was once again awake. The sound was somewhat akin to several men dragging a large sack of potatoes across the floor. They had entered the room next to his where there was a big 'thump!' and a creak of furniture, before the thin walls betrayed the voices of three people speaking in urgent, hushed tones before one of the men clomped back out the door and down the stairs of The Sodden Sailor. For now, all was quiet, but Aredhel rose from his bed. There was no way he could get back to sleep after those noises.Korchel Halenfjord Narastir
The stocky individual known as Korchel had happened upon the town of Soglash in his wanderings - as the accursed Dragon Auspexes tend to do. He had been taking up residence in Soglash for two days now; not really intending to stay, but nevertheless lingering in the area as though awaiting something. It did not take him long to get a feel for the barnacle-encrusted town and it's shady inhabitants. This night, he found himself in The Sodden Sailor for a hearty meal of root vegetables and roasted Hare, freshly trapped by the Vosk hunters of the region this very day. As the night drew on, a simple-minded wench by the name of Cassa struck up a conversation with Korchel. Her naivety simultaneously relaxed and irritated the tired dwarf; who was grateful for not having a thought-provoking conversation, yet was astounded by the energy her conversation carried.
He would have liked to have a few words with the elfish lad who was in earlier, but Olluc had taken his attention for much of the night, and the Elf then retired upstairs.
As the night deepened, Korchel let Cassa's words and the tune of the Rebec fade into the background as he lingered over a mug of warm ale and peered into the fire in a reverie. The sparse smoke of the embers made patterns to the Dwarf, and he watched the grey tendrils for some time. Nearly half an hour had passed when the smoke of the fire suddenly swirled and writhed. It took a few seconds for Korchel to realize what had caused the disturbance - a half-elf had opened the door and walked in from the cold - but before the Dwarf snapped from his reverie, he thought he had read what the tendrils of smoke had whispered: Change was coming. Tonight.Helgkhor
Pain. Stars... oh the pain!
Helgkhor's eyes opened blearily, unfocused. His head throbbed. His brain ached. By the gods, what had happened!? He thought back...
He had been to Saulkement, yes. He had met the high priestess there and she had sent him on a task, yes. And then Soglash. He remembered getting off the boat, lugging down his gear from it. Footsteps behind him; three pairs, getting faster and then... Pain. Blackness.
Helgkhor's eyes came to focus and he took bearing of his surroundings. He was seated on a flimsy, wooden chair which creaked beneath him. His hands were tied behind him to the chair by some worn rope. He was in a simple, square room. Thin, halfway rotted wood for walls, a sturdy wooden door to his left, and a frail window adorned the wall to his right - the night sky leered down at him. Yon could see his belongings, untidily pushed in the far corner by the window. By the looks of the two single beds with suspiciously stained woolens, he was currently tied up in an inn. Two lanterns brought light to the room. one hanging on a hook on the wall in front of him, and another held by one of two men in plain, black garbs who were talking frantically in hushed tones to one another, currently facing away from him. Aah, this did not look good for the Barbarian!