Dinner Party - Johan's Story

Johan sips again at the wineglass, the tasteless fluid seeming like colored water rather than priceless Elven spirits. He leans back, rolling his shoulders in a broad shrug. "Well, after we parted, I traveled south, to Beregost. Slunk around for a bit, until I had a bit of a run-in with the local watchmen after a stretch of being quite...parched. Their leader, Captain Kerp, took a shine to my fighting spirit, and offered me the job. The pay was shit, and the position was as plain and boring as goblin snot, but it meant I spent quite a bit less on sun balm, and, well..."

He chuckled, gesturing with the glass without taking a drink. "I never had a problem with energetic and boisterous prisoners once they'd spent a night in the cells under my watch, and good old Kerp either didn't notice, or didn't care."

Johan fished into a pocket of his coat, pulling out a rough map of the Sword Coast. On it were dozens of scratched circles in ink, dotting all over the coastal waters and coastline itself. "I've been keeping my ear out, as rogue and rowdy undead tend to mean suddenly everyone's wearing as much silver jewelry as they can steal or buy, and buying holy water phials like they're proper healing potions." He shook his head, throwing the map onto the table with mild disgust. "I can't make rhyme nor reason to the attacks; From what I've heard, the pirates have neither a base nor a target that can be made out from their attacks alone."

He leaned back, his grin showing the glint of slightly-too-long teeth, and reaching under his coat, withdrew a small hip flask. Johan took a single bracing swig, before recorking it and stowing it away again.