Introducing - Shores of the Silver Thrum

Greetings, dear listeners.

I'm Travis Vengroff, your sound designer and producer.

As we get closer to October, we're excited to share a new story we're working on called Shores of the Silver Thrum.

It's part of the Dark Dice podcast, an improvised horror adventure co-directed by myself and our writer K.A.

Stats.

Join a ship of wayward adventurers as they get lost within the frozen sea during the polar night of winter.

The show features many of your favorite voice actors from the White Vault, Vast Horizon, and Liberty, and the story is completely unrelated to previous seasons of the show.

I'll add that even even if you don't like the concept of listening to people play a game or improvise a horror story, that this show is unique, cutting out fourth wall-breaking elements to feel like you're actually in the world, just like our scripted stories.

We're going to play our prologue episode for you, Embark, where we introduce some of the cast and crew members of the ship, The Willow's Wake.

In addition to numerous first-time actors, you'll recognize some of your favorite voices from Wooden Overcoats and the No Sleep podcast as well.

If you enjoy this episode, you can follow the rest of the adventure and the lurking horrors by subscribing to the Dark Dice podcast.

Before we begin, we have one additional update, a chance to spend a few days locked in a dungeon with the creators of this very show.

Greetings, listeners, and thank you for stopping by for a spell.

We're here today to give you the opportunity to roll the dark dice.

Last year, we spun our cruel game of fate and deep demise within the stone rooms and halls of Lumley Castle.

Over the course of four days, hidden away in a windowless dungeon, we played over 24 hours of death-defying D ⁇ D at the illustrious D ⁇ D in a castle.

And so this November we are heading back to that familiar haunt.

And now we want to give you the opportunity to gather with hordes of eager players, new and veteran alike, to play a game of fate with us.

A ticket at our table.

The dark dice table in a dungeon with your dearly deranged DMs, Travis Vengroaff and K.A.

Stats.

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and it could be yours.

So test your luck and enter the raffle.

The prize includes one free ticket for a seat at our dark dice table at the D ⁇ D in a Castle event taking place November 10th through 14th of 2023.

This ticket includes all food, lodging and games within the castle.

All you would be responsible for is your personal travel to and from Newcastle, England.

There is a limit of one entry per person, but we have a secret.

Use our code word nameless to double your chances.

By using this secret phrase, your single submission will count as two when the lots are drawn, giving you advantage.

Find the link to the raffle page in our show notes and visit the DD in a castle website to find the dark dice giveaway or go to dndinacastle.com/slash dark dice giveaway to submit your entry.

And we do so hope to see one of you at our table.

What's a dungeon without a few victims?

Shayless Dipes, Salis, Darf Mikma.

Do you seek him?

Do you seek him?

Do you seek him?

Do you seek him?

Do you seek him?

Do you seek the nameless god?

You have found yourself among those who roll the dark dice.

What you're about to hear happened long ago.

A story brought back from the edge of oblivion, dutifully transcribed and enhanced orally to better captivate your attention.

Our tale is a harrowing and collaborative one, set within a world of dungeons and dragons.

However, dissimilar to most stories of its kind, our protagonists are not fantastic heroes of legend.

They do not understand what lays on the path of their fate, and they do not overcome all odds.

Fear the strangers in your midst.

Never play games of fate.

Dark Dice, the shores of the silver thrum.

Prologue.

Embark.

Embergrod was not much of a city from the perspective of outsiders.

or locals.

Its old town consisted of a few winding streets that meandered near its docks.

Those long docks that brimmed with galleons, junks, schooners, tall ships, flagships, clippers, and more, all which seemed more of a city than the scant stone buildings perched on the nearby land.

While beautifully crafted, paid for with shipping taxes and import fees, Embergrad's onion-domed temple and administrative buildings failed to reach the same soaring heights as the bobbing wooden forest of mast and sails.

Embergrad's primary road, bustling with hauling carts, passengers, crew, and cargo, ran alongside the docks, lined on both sides by the constant buzz of a working port.

Within a warehouse on that bustling road, two men waited before a wooden counter.

The ring of a small table bell faded as two halflings appeared from an unseen set of stairs behind that counter.

Welcome to Farhaula Company Embergrad office.

I'm Nick Crick.

This is my apprentice, Edel.

How can we assist you today?

Good day.

Hi, I'm looking for some pickup work that you may have available for some coin.

Hmm.

Okay.

Your name, please.

You can refer to me as Convo.

What?

Convo.

Would you mind spelling that?

In common?

It's written as it's pronounced.

Alright, then we'll go with K-O-N-V-O.

Convo.

Literate.

Right.

And you, sir, with the beard?

Yes, ah, my lovely beard.

Um, Jag,

this is me.

Um, also looking for work.

And how do you spell that?

Jag, just as you pronounce it.

Right.

We'll try J A R E, since you sound vinyl.

Thank you, Yada.

Wait.

It seems you're already on our list.

That's why we're here.

Well, had you told me.

Right, never mind.

But before we can relinquish the upfront payment outlined by your guild contracts, it seems that some of your information was lost in transit.

To remedy this, we have a few intake questions required by the Fireholeer Company Charter.

This shouldn't take more than a few minutes.

Edel.

Edel!

Oh, yes, uh,

fine.

Hi, hello.

I'm Edel.

This is only my third time doing this, so...

Bear with me.

We're going to start with a few bits of information.

The young halfling woman nervously placed a fresh set of forms on the counter that stood between them, swatting away the dry dots of dead flies from the wood.

Let's start with you.

Was it Yara?

Yaru.

Yara.

Aye.

Please, Yara, describe yourself in simple terms and include any recognizable marks, such as tattoos, missing teeth, or digits, in case of an event requiring the identification and recovery of your body or its parts.

Well, as you can see, over all of the years of work I've done on the docks, I've managed to

keep all of my fingers.

Um legs, check, arms still there.

Um

long beard, as you can see, short chestnut hair.

I don't even know how long it is these days, I just uh keep it loosely tied up up there, keeping it out of the eyes on the open sea.

Uh the undercut makes it easier to hear captain's orders.

Um what else do you need?

And you're human?

Huh?

Well, as you can clearly see, I am human.

Well, I didn't want to assume.

Usually, they only talk about their beards when they're dwarves.

That's that's true.

Strange customs, these dwarves.

Um,

five foot, ten, eleven-ish?

Yes, yes.

Hmm, not dwarf height, then.

What else do you need?

Chestnut hair?

That's pretty tall for a human, right?

That'll make you easy to find.

Next question:

Please describe the clothing you are wearing or that you'll have with you.

In human terms, tattered.

Tattered.

It gets the job done.

It keeps me dry, it keeps me warm.

Got it.

And you, Mr.

Convo.

Sorry, didn't quite catch that.

Canvo?

Convo?

Corvo?

Canvo.

Yeah.

It's fine.

Wait just a moment as I...

I don't think I spelled it like you, boss.

Okay.

Yeah, to be honest, I don't know how to spell, so you can write it however you like.

It's just what I've been called my entire life.

And then I'll just match the spelling on your other file for now.

Sorry.

So, yes, here.

Please describe yourself in simple terms that include any recognizable marks, such as tattoos, missing teeth, or digits in case of an event requiring the identification and recovery of your body or its parts.

Maybe start with the tattoos.

Yeah, there sure are a lot.

Well, I do have all my fingers and my toes last time I checked.

I do have a set of flowing drat lock hair, as you can see.

It's got a little bit of gray showing at the base.

And I used to be a little bit more fitter back in my younger years.

But as you can see, I still maintain some muscularity.

Except for, you know, maybe a couple of beers now and then.

More so now than I used to.

Ha!

Okay,

okay.

I think he'll be easy to identify.

Just fill out the forms.

Oh, yeah.

In regards to those other identifying remarks, I'll let you do inventory.

Convo removed his hardened leather vest, pulling it free from his back and chest to reveal a number of bright, runic-inspired tattoos.

Up and down his arms and sides, wrapped around him like the pages of an unknown tome.

These had earned him the moniker, The Painted Man.

Yes, you would be very easy to identify.

Two full arm sleeves of tattoos.

Both cover the entire arm.

Both go all the way to the uh

chest.

One is brightly painted like flame with runes or perhaps giant lettering.

Oh, and and a bird.

One arm is clouds or stone that resemble a shield and sword and more runes.

Would you mind turning around?

Ah.

Thank you.

A flower and a crescent symbol frame an island scene with trees on the back.

Oh, volcano island.

And more runes.

Wow, you could even be identified if it was just one arm.

Thank you.

I hope not to lose any limbs.

And you're an orc?

Mostly.

Hmm.

Do you mind if I list you as half-orc for identification purposes?

Your legs bend the same way a human or elf's would, as opposed to an orc's, at least according to this chart, and your nasal features do not appear orcish.

Sure.

Alright.

Uh, and can I get both of your ages?

Well, I'm 45.

Uh, 24.

And as as Yaga has been listening to all of this, uh, checking for any other marks that could easily identify him, as clearly, his clothing is not being, well, accepted as much.

He points out, um, I've got all my teeth intact, and gives a bright smile.

Very rare, good for you.

Very rare indeed.

Ooh, any gold ones?

Oh, no, I guess they wouldn't technically be fully intact if they were gold.

I do prefer the silver ones myself.

Next question, Adel.

Uh yes, uh uh yes, sir.

Uh do do you have any personal or family possessions on your your person you would like returned to your primary casualty contact in the event of your death?

Uh, I personally don't have any items to give to anybody, no.

Hmm.

That was easy.

Uh, and you?

And I don't have anybody to give items to.

So

would you surrender any remaining items upon the event of your death to the care of the Farhauler Company?

Sure.

I'll tell you what.

If you can recover my body, you can have my belongings.

Okay.

One.

One thing to maybe take care of, though.

As you can see, my feathered friend here, maybe take care of her, please.

Oh, she's quite pretty.

And I bet she's good at finding rodents.

I'm sure someone would be delighted to take care of her.

What species of owl would you say she is?

Well, run-of-the-mill barn owl.

And with this, he is clearly downplaying the rarity of his feathered friend as he gives the midnight coloured owl on his shoulder with the heart-shaped face framed by copper feathers an affectionate little hatbud.

Well, run of the mill or not, she's a pretty little bird.

Does your owl have a name it goes by or um

answers to?

If you can manage to make her answer to you, then yes, Seeley.

Okay, so that is a no on personal possessions to be returned.

Right.

Next up, who is your primary?

Actually, both of you just said you have no one.

The script.

Sorry, what?

Read this section aloud when they waive their rights.

In the event of death or encap in cap incap incapacitation.

oh okay in the event of death or incapacitation no one will be contacted or notified you have waived this right

uh so what level of experience do you have with seafaring sea-based freight shipping or boatsmanship and do you possess additional skills useful or applicable to work for the far hauler company Please note, some claims, which can lead to bonuses and or increased pay grade, require the presentation of applicable certificates or a scheduled skill evaluation with a Farhauler evaluator.

After you.

Sure, thank you.

I've been working the docks for most of my life.

I hail from a dock-working family.

I've been a shipwright here and there.

I know how to fix things if things need fixing.

A shipwright?

Can you give us the names of two previous ships on which you have either worked as shipwright or who can otherwise speak to your experience?

Sure.

Um,

the uh

the flying Zeadler being the largest one.

Uh there's the uh Bonse Fession, uh, the bronze cask, which unfortunately has since found its final resting place at the bottom of the ocean after they got a new shipwright.

Um

there are simply too many to name.

My mind is completely blank right now.

But I have many references.

Isn't there anything on my file?

It was pretty extensive.

You can just ask around the docks.

Ask for Yah.

With a straight face and only a slight twitch of his hand, Yara succeeded his deception check.

Do you speak Vinnil?

I do.

I do.

And you, sir, your shipworthiness?

Uh I've been a first mate, as well as a navigator in a brigantine-style ship for all my life.

I'd rather not say specifically which ones, just to protect my contract.

Is that allowed?

If you accept work as a deckhand?

Sure.

Honestly, deckhand work would be great right now.

Alright, then that concludes the paperwork.

As luck would have it, we have two openings on a ship headed north in two days' time.

You'll both be placed with

the Willow's Wake.

My assistant will bring you out to her now.

Excuse me, if you don't mind me asking, with regards to the Willows Wake, what kind of vessel are we talking about and what positions are we looking to be serving under?

It's a hauler job bringing cargo up to Winterport.

Tactical crew size, you will be serving under the ship's second mate.

The Willows Wake happens to need a deckhand and a shipwright, so this is your lucky day.

But with the small crew, a shipwright will have a lot of deckhand work as well.

If you would like a higher position with a Farhauler company ship in in the future, you will need to present references without the secrecy.

But work on the Willow's Wake will allow you to present the Willow's Wake as a reference in the future, so there's that.

Also, there's the matter of payment up front.

Fetch fifteen coins each.

Here's the key.

Remember what we talked about.

Edel the apprentice swiftly vanished behind the counter, descending the small hidden stairs beneath, accompanied by the tiny tip-taps of halfling feet.

Nothing was heard for a short time before before the tip taps returned and Edel reappeared with two small paper rolls of coin.

Edel placed the rolls on the counter before Yara and Convo, then carefully opened, counted and re-weighed the coins for authenticity, before re-wrapping and sealing the paper with a wax stamp bearing the Far Hauler seal.

To confirm, the job is a one-way journey on the Willows Wake from Embergrad to Winterport.

If you have interest and the second mate deems it acceptable, you may continue on with the Willows Wake to their next destination.

To do this, you will need to renew your contract when you arrive at the local Farhauler Company office in Winterport.

You can, of course, apply for a different job upon arrival instead.

The remainder of your pay will be waiting for you in Winterport.

Hmm.

Winterport.

That's north of you, right?

Yes.

It's a Vinnelhaven colony within the North Realm lands.

Any further questions before I take you to the Willows Wake?

The docks of Embergrad can be confusing for newcomers, so I'll be personally walking you up to the Willows Wake slip.

Will a hammock be provided on board?

Uh, yes.

All Farhauler vessels are prepared for any new workers that have been requested and paid for.

Great.

Well, if that's everything, uh, please take your luggage and follow me.

Convo, who had again donned his leather vest, double-checked that his shield and unworn chainmail were still securely strapped to his backpack before hoisting it over his shoulder.

Yara similarly swung his significantly smaller pack of carpenter's tools over his right shoulder before turning to follow Edel outside.

The halfling woman led Convo and Yara across the muddy road down to the complex maze of wooden docks, which rocked ever so slightly under gentle waves, mirroring the creaking ships it harbored.

It was low tide, exposing barnacles and rot on the dock's underside.

And among the creaking, cracking vessels, they found themselves before a well-worn galleon.

Its name had once been etched into a placard on its portside hull, which shone like silver in reflecting sea light.

But that placard had long since sunk beneath the waves.

Now only flaking paint gently outlined the Willow's Wake.

Another halfling woman with dark hair and a red bandanna scowled at a number of wooden boxes before her, mentally weighing which crates should be loaded next.

Upon noticing Edel's arrival, she gladly abandoned her task.

As a scant crew continued to load more such cargo aboard, the dark-haired halfling casually gave an expectant look and motioned the trio over.

Greetings, Miss Mitoff.

These are the two you requested.

And here's a copy of the paperwork.

Sign here, please.

Thank you.

All right, sirs.

This is Av, Second Mate of the Willow.

She'll take it from here.

Safe travels.

Thanks.

So,

I'm Av Mitov, second mate, and your boss for the next few weeks.

First off, you got a problem, you tell me about it.

Because there's so few of us on this ship, it'll be my problem quick enough anyway.

I need to be in the know.

Verstondin,

Vestandin,

yeah, Ich Verste understood.

Okay,

so who are you?

Hi, my name's Conbo.

I'm here basically to be muscle for you.

Just point me in the direction of where you need lifting.

Yava shakes his bag, his backpack a little, and you hear the clinking of hammers and screwdrivers.

Trying to make you understand I'm here to repair the ship, if need be.

Okay,

Mr.

Yara.

Yara.

Hmm.

That one's easy.

Ship right, good to know, good to know.

Okay, so anything I need to know about you being your boss?

Seasickness, bad knees, vengeful lovers, bounties?

Not that I recall.

None that I'm aware of.

Net.

Net.

Then.

Any questions for Verfang and Mit the tour?

Anne?

No?

Lovely.

This way.

The trio started up the rough planks connecting the dock to the Willow's Wake.

With each step towards its barnacle-covered hull, it was was clear that the Willow's Wake had seen better decades.

Yara's keen eyes had already begun his work, glancing from uneven doors, splintering railings, and bent winches to patched and rough-hewn sails.

As he shared a knowing look with his owl, Celie ruffled her feathers, either in response or instinct, though any onlookers would never know which.

The trio stopped next to a rust-spotted harpoon gun, from which Ov motioned to various parts of the Willow's Wake.

Wow, the Willow's quite a typical galleon.

You got your bow, your stern, your crow's nest and ballast.

She draws 12 feet 9 inches and was built 100 years before 63, meaning she's almost 190 now.

She's ambition fussy.

She creaks, the ceiling's quite uneven, so seriously mind your cough, but she's reliable.

Over 2,200 journeys now.

The forward deck has a hatch for the head, toilet.

We got twin forward anchors, three masts and a big fucking boom over aft.

Oh, the masts are invisible from the bottom 15 feet-ish, so Navigator Looper can see where the hell she's shearing us.

There's markers, though, to keep your head from bumping into it.

Also, we've got a proper sea sorcerer, Gallask, so even in luffs, we can pick up to full speed and tack on a coin.

Biggest thing, though, is keeping the ropes in good order, which is where the deck ons come in.

The muscle.

Ov professionally winked at Convo, flexing her short but well-muscled halfling arm.

Captain and guest quarters are under the aft quarter deck, right under the helm.

When you hear the bells, the ship's changed.

Otherwise, don't touch the bell, unless there's an emergency.

The main stairs over there on the main lead down to the mess.

Beyond the mess, we've got the cargo hold, and best not to get in there unless someone asks for your help.

Oh, and below the mess, the galley and more cargo.

First things first, though, we've got cargo to load before we run final preps tomorrow, so drop your purse below deck and opt to.

We get boxes, elf and zwelf.

Get back here as soon as you're all settled.

Really quick, The ship looks like it's been patched with like ten different kinds of wood.

Are there any weak or flimsy areas I need to be aware of on the deck or otherwise?

Or anywhere in particular?

Bunches, but it's all fucked equally.

I think Gallus is mending the

forward port railing right now, and they could probably speak more to that for someone you're right.

Well, can you just tell me where not to step so I don't bust my ass?

I don't think it'll come to that just yet.

It's more your head to watch out for.

Like I mentioned, the heights are all uneven.

Fair enough.

Thank you.

We're loading cargo already now.

Step two.

Sure.

The deck stairs led into the largest room on the ship, the mess.

Tables and benches were bolted to the floor, and 16 hammocks were slung against the wall, able to be lashed to ceiling hooks as needed.

Each hammock had a metal box lashed to the wall, and Convo had no difficulty finding an unused box to use as his own.

He took quick stock of the room, surprised to find the ship was actually well equipped below deck.

Six buckets of sand for stopping fires hung on hooks overhead, which gently swayed with the rocking ship.

The noise of the mess put him at ease, the same noises that brought distress to those unaccustomed to life at sea.

The slosh of water breaking around the willow's wake, accompanied by the creaking ropes stretching with every movement.

Low growls of the warping wood hull buckled in constant wheezes, as if breathing.

All right, hmm, let's see.

Hammocks, check, entertainment, Check.

Box 11.

Not too shepher.

Whoa.

Okay, watch your head there, Yara.

Thank you.

I see many things to fix already.

Well, for entertainment, it looks like we've got an old Constantina, I'm sorry, accordion, some knucklebone dice, a book, pegboard chess,

and a map of the continent.

A wildly inaccurate map of the continent.

I don't know.

Maybe it's not this continent.

No, it's supposed to be.

Yara, accustomed to the sway of the ships and the close proximity of sea life, found a spot of his own in little time.

He placed his backpack next to the box meant to keep his belongings safe, because in truth he owned nothing worthy of safekeeping.

Yara's eyes narrowed as he watched Convo unpack a stick-and-poke tattoo kit from his pack and lean over the inaccurate map with renewed interest.

Yada scratched Seeley's chin feathers, placing her on an empty rung near the unstrung hammocks.

Hey, Seeley,

I have to go to work now, but I'll bet you'll find some rats over in that direction if you're bored.

So,

how's it looking there, Convo?

Are you painting in those little fish man on the map?

No, you smartass.

I'm trying to figure out how long it's gonna take us to get to Winterport.

That would require an investigation check.

Well, good luck with that.

18.

Apparently, very good luck with that.

Maybe three weeks of travel ahead of us.

Gonna be a long trip, either way.

I guess let's get to work.

Above deck, wind whipped the curled sails, clashing metal rungs and ropes danced in a gray sky.

Yara went back to the deck and found Second Mate Ov Mitov on the quarter deck examining a weathered patch of splintered wood that had to be older than Yara.

Ah, Yara!

Me new mate.

Yeah.

With a power patches loose here and also near the head, and the main sails need shoring.

Sure thing.

And there's an issue with the galley vent in the captain's quarters.

I'm sure our new shipwright, any shipwright worth their zolts, can find much more on that to make fast.

Yeah.

When you get the time.

No problem.

Yeah.

Ugh.

Please check with Udar down in the galley.

Udar's the cook.

She's plugged up a few springs, made a bit of heart attack a few days back.

I think it might be a problem.

It will be fixed.

Thanks.

Convo joined them on the quarter deck.

Oh, Convo, you can start meet that there.

You got it.

Convo nodded and walked over to the dock.

He hoisted up the first of the large wooden boxes, lifted it from the squeaking docks, then brought it down through the mess and beyond into the forward cargo hold.

Convo felt more confident about the layout of the ship with each trip to the rat-infested hold.

Hold, hold.

He made note of low-hanging frames and uneven patched planks.

Better to learn them now at shore than out on open waves.

Convo counted how many steps it would take to move from one location to the next, or what rested within arm's reach at any given moment, imagining himself running through the ship in a hurry during a night of violent seas.

His assessment grew with each trip.

and on one occasion while maintaining unflinching eye contact with Seely the Owl as she scarfed down a rat, Convo registered a strange stone pole in the middle of the ship's aft mess.

Later, he learned that it was a chimney of sorts that moved warm air from the kitchen-slash-galley below, up through the mess, to the captain's quarters, and finally to the helm and wheel of the ship, keeping the vessel generally warm.

Though greatly aged, the Willow's wake was in functional working condition as far as Convo was concerned.

Now aged himself, and similarly rebuilt from many tragedies he'd experienced at sea, Convo felt oddly at home.

Seeley chittered and hopped down the stairs as Yara's attention moved elsewhere.

Yara was making his own assessment of the Willow's Wake, tallying up a written list titled A Few Things of Note, which quickly outgrew the single page he'd intended to contain his restoration plans.

It was clear that, though sturdy, the Willow's Wake begged for relief from her many ailments.

Few things of note.

Old.

This ship is ancient.

Even for vessels of its class, even in boat years.

By all accounts, it should be long foundered, but someone has taken care to keep her seaworthy.

Ceilings.

Ceilings are generally about 10 feet high and very uneven.

There are random patches of new wood that don't quite line up, and braced sections that reduce the height to 6 feet or so.

These drops are sudden and without reason.

There's a spot when you enter the mess that nearly took off my head.

Fix it before we depart.

Underline, fix it.

Do it.

Your head will thank you soon enough.

Celie will too.

Seriously, who was their last shipwright?

They've earned some choice words from me, if ever we.

We got a shipwright for this one, yet!

A gray-skinned woman of formidable height and bulk stepped onto the gangplank.

The half-orc monstress shifted a dead pig under one arm and stopped near the stairs.

A wide meat cleaver hung at her hip, reflecting Yada's Yada's face back at him.

Second mate Av Mitov matched the woman's friendly scowl and pointed at hesitant Yara.

That would be me.

New one then.

Good.

Later, downstairs, galley.

Holes.

Lots of them.

And I'm supposed to cook.

I did not make the holes.

Does not matter what they said.

I did not make the holes, but I did stop them from leaking into the ship.

The cook hoisted her dead pig over one thick shoulder and quickly maneuvered at an angle down the stairs into the dark of the mess hall below.

It was clear that, even given her size, she had grown accustomed to the dimensions and broken shape of the human-made vessel.

Yagu gives her a quick nod, making sure to turn around and, unseen, roll his eyes, hearing of many holes in a ship.

But before he goes down there to fix whatever needs fixing, he's going to finish his assessment.

More things to note.

Doors.

The doors are a mixture of woods with oxidized brass hinges and fixtures.

The noise from the main hatch is, in fact, loud enough to wake the dead.

I've already told me to fix it.

That big padlock is also pretty much just for show at this point.

Lighting.

I don't know who insisted on second century Bernascan hooded lanterns, but it is a mistake.

Bernaskian lanterns are a terrible fire hazard, especially in cogholds carrying oil and supplies.

Sure, they illuminate with low light, as it were, but I'll still argue that they are worse than no light at all.

They should have gone with Finlhaven torches.

Anchors.

The anchors are so rusted, I was unsure there was any metal before tapping them to check.

There is also an embarrassing amount of barnacles on the hull that, in all likelihood, are now structural.

This is, of course, a joke.

Or, if not,

a worrisome omen.

The deck railings.

Those railings are crafted from no fewer than seven different species of wood at this point, and are a mere three feet tall.

I half envisioned myself, or any of the taller crew, simply tripping over them on our way to a watery grave.

Furthermore, there are gaps in the outer perimeter of the ship where the railings simply aren't present.

I've no idea what happened, but I intend to ask Af as a matter of professional curiosity.

Perhaps the Willow would prefer not to share such mysteries.

Rigging.

At least the rigging seems to be in order.

Noisy, noisy order.

Additionally, the harpoon guns are in full working order.

Their blemishes are purely aesthetic.

Side note, the masts may be invisible, but they are still very much there.

One of the deckhands, named Yelena, told me that one of her job functions includes cleaning the V of snot that people leave on the invisible sections after they walk into it.

I sincerely hope to witness someone walk into it.

Assessment:

The Willows Wake is an old and noisy vessel.

She works, but is by no means the top-of-the-line or jewel of the Farhaula fleet.

The captain has certainly put in the time and dedication needed to keep her at sea.

Crew:

I've met or or seen most of the crew already and believe them to be seaworthy.

There are twelve of us, I believe.

They are well seasoned, and half have clearly been with the Willow's Wake for some time.

They seem to know just where to step or duck by instinct.

I do worry that my repairs may be disruptive to their accustomed movements, but I would prefer to be seen as competent and reliable, so I will make the repairs regardless.

I will simply keep my tools on my person at all times.

At the ready.

All of them.

I am on my way to the galley next to look at the damage the cook pointed out.

But I saw the sea saucer Gallusk having a difficult time mending a rail with magic.

Magic, it seems, cannot mend the different species of wood together, but watching Galask battle the broken railing with wood, hammer, nails, and spells was an entertainment all on its own.

Sidebar.

Am I journaling now?

This feels very much like something.

Captain on deck!

The crew froze in place and turned to the gangplank.

An older man with white hair, sporting a heavy blue coat worthy of his position, stepped aboard.

He held a small wooden chest under one arm, the other resting upon a rope.

The man nodded and walked to the door onto the quarter deck.

Unlocked and opened the captain's quarters, quickly placed the box inside, and then returned to the deck and struck the bell.

Every hand on deck dropped their current work and formed a semicircle before the captain.

From below, Uda the cook quickly made her way above deck.

Some, like Konvo, visibly wiped sweat from their brows or took a moment before the assembly to sneak sips of water.

The captain may have had rain on the willow, but it stopped at the railing.

And out on the docks and other ships of the bobbing forest, the bustle of work continued.

Yaga is stepping right up there, trying to nestle in between the cook and the sea sorcerer.

We got a ship right.

The half-workwoman, significantly older and taller, punched Yara's shoulder and jests as the last of the crew joined in the circle.

Good.

To those new faces, you're now aboard the Willow's Wake.

I'm Victor Gelmane, and you are to address me as Captain Gelmane, or Captain.

As part of my crew, you follow my orders.

In exchange, you receive pay, and, sunken one allowing, we all leave the sea alive.

In brief, we will be embarking in two days on a half-month Farhaula Company trade and transport expedition to Winterport, where we will all be paid upon successful delivery of guests and cargo.

The captain received a nod from Second Mate Ov, indication that things had moved smoothly so far.

The captain nodded in return before turning back to the row of attentive crew.

First, we'll make for the sunken bulwark.

It's a five-day trip and on the way to our final destination.

Our Willow is due for her blessing, and with any luck, we'll make it in time for the observance of last night.

Captain Gelmain walked over to the boat's edge, searching for something or someone still missing.

It'll be a cold trip.

We're not expecting any ice flows.

Once we've given to the sunken one, we'll be on our way to Winterport.

It'll be roughly two weeks' journey from that point.

I'll let Af finish up.

Yeah.

Captain Galmaine waved his hand and moved back to the door to his quarters.

There he stood and watched as a fidgeting Ov Mitov shifted her weight before nervously addressing the group.

Aye.

We don't plan to encounter pirates or such, seeing as we're far north of the Frost Irmountains and flying the sea in storms, but as a barren bones crew, everyone's reminded to report any threats or incidents to me or First Mate Lurs immediately.

And I mean, Schnell Schnell for anything.

Fraying ropes, patch coming loose, fog on the horizon.

I don't give a damn how small you think the problem is.

We're a small lot, and we need to be aware of everything.

Lastly, a number of guests have booked passage with us, and according to Shipping Manifest, we'll also be transporting a prisoner.

The only person who should go anywhere near the prisoner is Omen.

She motioned to a smirking, bearded human smoking a pipe.

Omen lifted an eyebrow in recognition.

Now, refrain from pissing off our guests.

Do what you're told, when you're told, and you'll get paid.

The bigger crates will be here in about an hour.

Let's get the small stuff loaded up before then.

Yar?

Dismissed.

The crew began to disperse and return to their tasks.

Budah gave Yara a side-eyed grin.

All right, Shipwright, follow me.

Heading down to the kitchen.

It's time to fix those holes.

Fix them, best I could.

So I go to the small good stack and start carrying things back in.

Konvo, who was effectively shirtless at this time and covered in sweat, already made himself useful as his significant size and strength aided to the task at hand.

In under an hour, he and the other crew members had successfully loaded the available cargo into the ship's holds and were now afforded a short break before the larger crates arrived.

Convo used this opportunity to drink and compile his thoughts as he chatted with deckhand Jelena.

This would require a persuasion check.

18.

So you're saying the captain's retiring soon?

Yeah, more or less.

That's why he's having Av do the most of the talking.

He's prepping her to be the next captain.

What about the first mate?

Why isn't he being trained for the position?

He and the captain don't really get along from what I've heard.

Not for a while now.

Ah, I see.

But it's a good ship.

The Willowswake even has a sea sorcerer, and they really know their magic.

Yeah, I think I saw them working on one of the railings earlier with a new ship, right?

Yeah, Yara, right?

He came aboard with you, but I'm guessing you don't know Richard.

Yeah.

Hmm, he seems cute.

Sharp, sorry.

He seems sharp, like he can cut it for the job.

Sure, whatever that means.

Navigator also seems like she's quite experienced.

Yeah, she's quite tall.

Well, that too.

Our second mate is not so tall, but she has apparently been with the Willowswik for years now.

Mm-hmm.

Yes, and have you met the unpleasant bearded man yet?

The rat catcher?

Omen?

Yeah.

Yeah, I've got my hesitations about him.

He's always grumbling and smoking the herb, but he seems pretty reliable.

Skilled, perhaps.

Salty.

What?

Salty.

He is a salty, salty short fuse.

Not like evil, but really rude.

Love this word.

Rude.

The other crew seems friendly, at least.

This is true.

Well, I think Becker has the least experience.

But the others have at least a decade under their belts, each.

I know Linz is in a box of smiles right now.

Really?

Why?

He's used to other kinds of work, and I believe he was demoted.

But he's been in the Willow's Wake for a while, right?

I think so.

Now, please take no offense, but you look old enough to have also been demoted a few times and still be second mate.

Why did you take a job as a decent?

It's a story I'd rather not talk about right now.

So you're Darlarian, right?

My father sighed.

Was it the accent?

He was always sure to remind me of the heritage, keep the traditions alive.

What about you?

Where are you from?

That's also something I'd rather not think about right now.

But I've spent most of my life on a boat.

A single boat?

Or did you mean the multiple boat?

Time to get back to work.

Let's go to work then.

On the lower deck, a hatch opened.

And a small staircase that more closely resembled a ladder led down into the galley.

Warm and potent air rose to greet Yara as he descended.

It was not the scent of fish, nor meat, but the fragrance of strong pungent spices.

The galley was cramped and cluttered, and Ura, the ship's cook, seemed to have a place for every item in the apparent chaos.

Uraquit was an older woman, wide and strong, with thick gray and black-peppered hair and green-gray skin wrinkled from decades of sea-sun and salt spray.

Chaos described the room rather well.

It was hot with burning coals, and flames licked the bottom of a large pot as a stew simmered.

The shelves, walls, and countertops were dotted with contraptions that were a mix of simple and modern cookware Yara had never seen before.

From a heavy hook in the ceiling, supported by a crossbeam, the large corpse of a pig hung dripping blood out into a metal bucket below.

Holes in the walls were haphazardly filled with knives, hardtack, and wax in an effort to keep out water.

Udar directed Yara to the first hole of many, one on the port side hull, and stole a pleased nod before returning to her air of indifference.

Start on those ones.

They're the oldest.

Yara is going to take a quick look around the room,

mumbling to himself, well, that is not how you keep the water out.

It's working, isn't it?

Sure.

Well, who knows how long?

The spare wood, coal, oil, and pitch behind that door.

It's a lower hold.

Let me know when the knives are out.

I need them back.

Otherwise, I'll be cooking.

Uda began to chop and slice, preparing food for the ship's next meal.

But she intentionally chose to stand where she could watch Yara work and believably feign indifference.

Yada picks up a nearby towel, a lit candle, and moves towards the biggest knife.

After a few moments of feeding up the wax, he'll pick at the hard tech with his chisel and pull out the first knife.

Okay,

that's new.

This hole is so old, the mold is holding it together.

That's that's interesting.

Oh god, I need that one back.

Yes, uh, good then.

Here you are.

Ura took the knife and dipped it into a cup of boiling water near the simmering stew.

Yaba continued at a slow but steady pace.

He cautiously opened the door to the deep hold, venturing past rats to secure the resources he would need to complete his work.

Unpleasant, dark, and stale, this would soon be a place frequented by the shipwright over the next few weeks, so studded with the pockmarks of the ship's age.

As he continued to patch the holes in the galley, he required a check to use the tools with which he was quite proficient, with advantage.

That's an eight, plus four makes twelve.

The myriad of holes dotting the galley's hull were not particularly large, and Yara noted his work seemed to consist mostly of repairing brakes that had already been properly braced but never truly repaired.

The wood from the braces spanning the galley, while originally intended as a temporary measure, had been left untreated and had thus expanded over time.

This neglect had in turn created the holes he currently patched with an efficiency and skill that took a pleased Udah by surprise.

Good, you do know what you're doing.

Do the next one.

Actually, wait, no, do that one, because

I need the fillet knife.

Jan is sweating from

culking up all of the holes from applying old wood, new wood.

Trying in the process to use

woods that would make a nice pattern, which he believes would, I don't know, brighten the kitchen space a little.

And as he does all of this, he

inhales quite often going, hmm, that reminds me.

Never finishing the sentences, but in general, having an impressed air about him.

A competent shipwright.

Hmm.

Gonna have all my knives back after this.

In the warm, flickering light of the galley, heavy with the weight of spiced air, Yara felt as though he might have made a friend aboard the Willow's Wake.

Hopefully the first of many, if true skill and hard work was all it took.

Meanwhile, on deck under grey, shrouded skies, Convo continued to load smaller cargo aboard the Willow.

He noted that each box was marked in some manner to denote its use by the Far Hauler Company.

Some crates were stamped, others had fluttering paper tags attached via string or tacks.

Only those objects of personal use, such as he saw, a new box of flour for the galley, were unmarked by the company's sigil.

But then a particularly curious small crate in hand, Convo required a dexterity saving throw.

A natural one.

The Willow's wake was still unfamiliar grounds, and catching his foot against the bottom of the short, unseen railing, Convo fumbled.

Wow!

The small crate dropped to the deck and spilled its contents out over the wood.

Brickin' all misshapen wood here.

A mess of packing shavings and dense moss cushioned the fall of the delicate and deranged figurine that spewed forth.

An idol of carved and glistening bone.

Or worse.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry about that.

Are you okay, New Guy?

Sorry.

Fuck, that's ugly.

Dekkhan Lindsen, bucket in hand, bent down to help collect and clean the spilled crate and its contents.

But as his hand moved for the idol, it stopped.

Huh.

Don't touch it!

I'll take it from here.

Gallasp the Sea Sorcerer waved their hand, cursed a spell to life, summoning an unseen hand of magic.

They lifted the fumbled contents and moved the frightening figurine back into the small crate.

Floating moss landed on the idol delicately, as though fearful it might wake.

Then, cautiously, with a slow gesture, Gallask shifted the wooden lid back into place.

It's from Jensla, I think.

And it's expensive, so please be more careful.

We cannot afford a reputation for ruining cargo.

Sorry, I'll do my best.

Behind them, Captain Gelmane had simply materialized in a way only a superior officer could.

With a scowl, he stared at the box, showing a hatred that took Convo by surprise.

The captain hastily departed from the ship, indicating with a flick of his wrist that Galask was to fall.

The sea sorcerer hopped over quickly, closely in the captain's wake.

As soon as I see him do that, just realizing that he's slightly agitated,

I do my best to quickly pick up all the stuff around the box and quickly like to close it all up again, just to kind of steer away from friding ions.

The hour passed and work continued.

The captain and the sea sorcerer had not yet returned, but second mate Ov had a handle on things.

After noon, a barge-like port pontoon controlled by dock hands with long poles pulled up beside the Willow's wake.

Their pontoon was anchored four times over, securing the movement of the large crane it supported.

The crane was moved into place and the first of the larger wooden crates were hoisted from the dock down into the depths of the Willow's cargo hold through the central deck hatch.

After several crates, a cage was then lifted from the dock.

A feathered beast brooded behind the bars.

Chittering and growling, it licked its vicious beak and stretched its feathered arms out beyond its prison, having hoped to meet its long talons with its captor's flesh.

Give it a bite then.

It will stop swinging.

First Mate Mason Lurs arrived to the dock looking winded.

He hopped aboard the Willow's Wig and motioned to Lindsen to toss a dead weasel to the beast.

With a snap and a crunch, the creature grabbed the weasel in its beak and drew its arms back within the bars of the cage.

Do I recognize this beast?

That would require a knowledge nature check.

And nine.

Yara, having finished his work in the galley, arrived on deck just in time to see the creature lowered into the hole.

Do I have nature?

Oh, I might, I might have a chance.

So, Yar,

he stops dead in his tracks, walking up the stairs, fidgeting around with a corkscrew that he got out of one of the holes, thinking that is the opposite of what you do with these.

Keeping it as kind of a memento because he managed to sneak it out of the kitchen it wasn't missed and of course nature it's a seven

that kind of looks like a bird bear like a a bear that's a bird like a b like

feathery

kind of reminds me of an owl that is also a bear

and doesn't break any trademarks to name drop.

Yeah, kind of like a bear owl.

Stop that, darking.

The first mate addressed not only Yara and Konvo, but the entire crew, all of whom had been entranced as they watched the dangerous creature lower into the shadows.

Once it was out of view, the crew quickly dispersed, and the rest of the cargo was loaded without incident over the next hour.

As the sun set early on that winter day, the second mate rung the bell, and the crew of the Willow's Wake were officially free to rest.

First thing Yara does after the work for the day is is done and that

extra bit of work that just goes to show hey he means business

he goes back into the mass and he goes to look for Seeley whether or not she's had a good catch of the day well fed and seeing as she is quite content and sitting in

I guess a ship doesn't have rafters, but sitting on a beam that's sticking out for whatever reason,

People just use it to

I guess hang up things there.

He's walking out on deck and because he's only interacted with the cook so far he's going to

again socialize as much as possible.

Having Seeley back on his shoulder now, the tiniest bits of red fur sticking to her beak,

he's going to try and socialize with Mr.

Omain.

It's Omen, but Yara.

I gotta admit, I like your bird.

Catches the rats pretty well and makes my job significantly easier.

I don't normally say this, but

I think you're pretty cool.

Why?

Well, your bird is anyway.

Thank you.

It's what I trained her to do.

I mean, I can be of help in many areas on a ship, but having a bird around, these cats, they don't often do the trick.

I normally prefer snakes, but yeah,

yeah, they do.

So, what?

Uh, where are you from?

I am from

and yeah, the things of a place in Vinnelhaven.

Ah, little place on the Sea of Spears coast, uh,

Dochim.

You wouldn't have heard of it.

Uh, there

there was an incident with uh some treasure washed ashore and that's all people really know about the place.

If they've heard of it at all.

Uh so

uh Vinnelhaven, that's that's probably all you care about.

So you're a driftwood then?

Yeah.

Yeah, okay, I guess that makes you the shipwright since I've got you patching things.

That's pretty cool, I guess.

You mind if I ask you for for some help later um when when I'm

I guess I'm supposed to be watching a prisoner that wasn't in the job description when I signed up but I guess I'm a jailer now so that's cool but um

I might need to ask you well maybe just the bird for some help catching rats while I'm being a warden

Gotta look good on my resume because this is a ridiculously small crew for a vessel this size.

I bet it wouldn't even be possible without magic.

And jailer, is that something you've ever done before?

I have experience like eating food and sitting for long periods of time, passing food to other people.

It's basically the job, right?

I...

I guess.

The visitor is not even too dangerous, I don't think.

But they gotta go back to face justice for heresy and some violence or something like that, so it's not a big deal.

Not like a serial killer or a vampire or some really big shell wizard, so it shouldn't be that hard.

Cage has even got any magic runes, so they can't cast nothing.

I just ignore them for however long those boring hours might be, but yeah, I'd like help with the rats.

I'm sure CD will be more than happy to help with that.

Thanks.

So, uh,

this is your first time on uh first time this far north?

Oh, I've I've uh traveled.

I've I've traveled far and wide.

Ships are.

The docks are my home.

Ships are a necessity to get from one dock to the other.

Yeah, if you don't know how to.

If you don't know your way around a ship, you're not worth anything here.

That's what my mother always used to say.

On the other end of the ship, with labors of the day complete, Convo approached the deckhands.

He had just purchased drinks in Embergrod, a small bribe for future friendship, and so sat at the bolted-down mess table to share a meal with the other deckhands.

Good working with all of you today.

I'm Convo.

Helena.

Becker.

And we met before, Lindson?

Those drinks for us.

If you feel like drinking with me,

I'd say, but one law, that makes us friends, Convo.

And I'm all gladder for it.

So, how'd the day go for all of you?

Today was a day, but tomorrow surely, so there's that.

Yeah, I don't know what they put in those boxes, but it feels heavier than the last job.

But I say, as bad a day as some of us have had, it couldn't have been worse than what you went through.

Because you're getting old.

The captain looked very angry.

Yeah, what was that about?

He seemed pissed.

Not necessarily at me, but at something.

I kind of lower my voice and say,

so is this...

Is there some kind of contraband that we need to be aware of?

To be hiding or something?

Just get to know ahead of time.

I wouldn't know anything about that, but one thing you need to know about Captain Kelmane is that he's a very superstitious man.

No kidding.

He even has the sign of Neldeech on his necklace and cuffs.

Becker, I'll come out and say it.

You seem quite sturdy for your kind.

I always kind of...

thought that T-Flinks were uh that your type were a little bit more of the nimble variety.

I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but you're actually quite sturdy, if you know what I mean.

Did he just call me fat?

No, no, no, no.

I, I, I, uh,

because I'm proud of my weight.

Oh.

Tieflings, like humans or orcs, have a variety of body types.

I mean, look at your ancestors.

Most orcs have legs that go the other way, just like my ancestors did.

But as you can see, I was born with sea legs.

Yeah, it was not meant to be an offense.

I just curiosity.

Like,

I grew up in the sea, and we don't get to see tieflings very much.

And usually when we do, it's more of the quicker type, not the heavy lifting kind.

I understand.

But I think I've perhaps had a bit too many drinks to be the quick kind anymore.

With all my years on a ship among your surface worlders, I hear that.

You've spent longer on a ship than I've been alive.

I think you can stop calling us surface worlders.

I guess that's true.

How long has that been?

Wouldn't you like to know?

I mean, yeah, that's why I'm asking.

Maybe we can swap stars some other time.

Tonight I'm

just enjoying a drink.

But by all means, continue your conversation.

I find you quite amusing.

Oh, oh.

Thank you.

But on a serious note,

me being the new guy here, who's the one that's been in the ship the longest, out of the three of you guys?

Lindzen raised a finger to his nose as Yelena and Becker pointed to him from behind their backs.

Yeah, probably 50 years or so.

Luck it, lucky Gargoyle.

So as long as Gome.

Oh, well, that is impressive.

And yet he never made you second mate.

Not needed.

I don't need more stress or responsibility than I've already got.

Which is more than enough, trust me.

I'm not looking to fly my own flag, just looking for a simple life on the water with just enough good drink to calm the soul.

You slept on a mess floorless light because you were drunk.

So much stress.

So, uh, you mentioned the captain being superstitious.

Is he overly superstitious?

Like, what sort of superstitions are we talking about here?

The sea kind,

the kind that's kept him alive, all those years.

That's why we're heading to the Sunken bulwark.

It's rubbish.

All of it's rubbish.

It's not rubbish.

It's superstition.

It's religion, just not yours.

You don't believe in giving offerings to the goddess of the sea?

I don't think the sunken one gives a damn about what we do.

She drowns sailors, traders, and children alike no differently than any other natural disaster.

Praying to her is not gonna change anything.

It's a precaution to keep her fury away from us.

His stupid first mate mate buys into it, too.

Galesk, maybe, but it's Gelmane's willow, and he says we must pay homage.

His boat, his rules.

Oh, okay, so both of them are the superstitious type.

Well, what does that have to do with this sunken bulwark place?

I think I heard Ov say that it's going on maybe a decade now since the Willow's Wake was last there for a blessing.

Ah, so it's a religious site.

It's an island where the faithful followers of the Sunken One built one of her grandest temples.

We go once a year for smaller personal blessings, but every ten years Captain Gelmane has us bring something big to offer in exchange for the blessing of the willow.

It's a tradition.

I have no interest in returning for it.

Then stay on the ship when we get there.

Health man, he wasn't talking to you.

Just dream and shut up.

I think I will.

I think I will.

Lindsay stood and stepped toward the stairs.

Thanks again for the drinks.

I'm gonna

sit by the bow and

maybe pass out.

Surely tomorrow.

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Night Lincoln.

Evening, mate.

Are those drinks I see on my ship?

Because I want one.

Join us.

We were just talking about superstitions.

God.

Is there some kind of subtext here that I'm missing?

Or Vatesgos?

Ah.

With an amused smirk, Convo relaxed among the crew of the Willow's Wake and enjoyed a night inside the ship's dark belly.

The The next day was a day of rest.

For the following one, the guests would arrive, and the real journey would begin.

Dark Dice, Shores of the Silver Throne, Prologue, Embark.

Created by Travis Vengroff and K.A.

Stats, featuring Jeff Goldblum as Balmer, Florian Seitler as Yara, Enrique Perez as Convo, K.A.

Stats, and Travis Vengroff as co-dungeon masters, and featuring the voices of Felix Trench, Nicole Goodnight, Kira Baxendale, Karine Cromfling, Lika Huchershvili, Michael Heichner, Atticus Jackson, Dario Ollman, David Devereaux, and Marisha Tapera.

This episode was produced and edited with sound design by Travis Vengrof, with dialogue editing assistance by Kayla Shu, mixing and mastering by Dan Mendertson, transcriptions by Cheon Francois, and executive producers Dennis Greenhill, Carol Vengroff, A.J.

Punken, and Michael Viegas.

This episode features music by David Wise, Stephen Molin, and Travis Vengroff.

To support this production and get access to bonus releases, music, world lore, art, and early access to future adventures and DD materials, please join our Patreon at patreon.com slash foolandscholar.

This is a fool and scholar production.

Thank you for listening.