Lux Tenebris: Widowmaker Bay - Part Two

Widowmaker Bay is a small, insular community located on the western coast of Nur. To the west is the Gulf of Promises. The Graymist Way, a major travel route, lies just east of the town. South of Widowmaker Bay are a string of small fishing villages and hamlets that make Widowmaker Bay appear positively cosmopolitan. North of the town are pine forests, but no other communities for at least a hundred miles.

The town's population is predominantly human and nonhumans are seldom encouraged to settle within Widowmakers Bay.  Fishing is the dominant industry, followed closely by logging.  The recent opening of a Circle Station just outside the town has opened up new trade opportunities, but many local merchants and townsfolk are suspicious of the Station's motives.

The town is governed by a mayor, elected by the citizenry every four years, and a six member town council, its members chosen by popular vote every two years. Widowmaker Bay is a 'Free Town' and swears no allegiance to any noble lord or king.

Places of Interest

Widowmaker Bay offers few places of interest or note to travelers or adventurers. 

The Circle Station (1) just north of town has become a point of local interest. It occupies the home of the Stark family, one of the town's oldest and most respected bloodlines.  Although use of a teleport circle is too expensive for most locals, tours of the Station are available via appointment for a small fee.

South of the town proper is the Widowmaker Bay Lighthouse (2), established over a century ago to warn ships of the treacherous coast surrounding the town.  Local history, not typically shared with strangers, records that the Lighthouse was built and commissioned after the town was laid seige too by the angry ghosts of folk who perished in the bay.

On the northwest side of town is the Temple of Solat (3). Built by Widowmaker Bay's wealthiest families, the temple is a modest stone building. The exterior is painted black and purple and the color theme continues on the interior. The Temple is weatherbeaten and has seen better years. As the wealthy merchant families moved away, the Temple has fallen into disrepair. There is no priest or clergy in residence, although on occasion an itinerant priest of Solat will appear to bless the temple and lead informal prayers. By longstanding tradition, the town's widows look after the Temple, as best they can.

South and east of the Temple of Solat are the town's graveyards(4). In Widowmaker Bay, the dead are burned and their bones are interred in crypts and mausaleums.  Only residents may be buried in the town graveyard.

The area further west of the town graveyards is known as the Wreckers' Yard(6). For a time, Widowmaker Bay's residents employed shipwrecking as a means to keep the town's fortunes afloat. They would light bonfires on the beaches to lure ships close to shore where they would run aground and sink. Survivors of these shipwrecks were brutally murdered, their bodies buried in the marshy land that became known as the Wrecker's Yard.  Today, when someone from outside of Widowmaker Bay dies, they are buried in the Wreckers' Yard.  The area has an unpleasant reputation with locals. There are rumors of undead prowling the Yard, and most locals avoid it after sundown and on overcast days.

At the western end of the small peninsula Widowmaker Bay occupies, beyond the Temple of Solat, the graveyards and the Wreckers' Yard is the Bottom(5).  Even a town like Widowmaker Bay has its undesirables and this area is where they tend to congregate. Although technically part of the town, the town does nothing for the Bottom. Its residents, known as Bottom-Dwellers among the locals, are a mix of outcasts, criminals and rejects. If you're an outsider in the town proper, you'll probably get snubbed. If you're an outsider in the Bottom, you'll probably get stabbed.

Persons of Interest

Thalia Arthoria, L14 Human Hermit

Thalia Arthoria is the last living descendant of the wreckers who once led ships to their doom in Widowmaker Bay.  She's a crone who lives in the Bottom, but spends her waking hours in the Wreckers' Yard, tending its makeshift graves. Thalia's a bit mad, but she knows more than anyone else in town about the strange happenings in the Wreckers' Yard.

Aldoral Dusk, L9 Human Conjurer

Aldoral Dusk is the Master of the Widowmaker Bay Circle Station. An affable, but rather mediocre, wizard, Dusk is originally from Darkwater. He doesn't much care for Widowmaker Bay, and has decided that when his current contract is up that he will move to Moontree where people are "more civilized and less inbred." 

Arabella Stark, L8 Human Merchant

The Stark family was one of Widowmaker Bay's wealthiest and most-revered families. Arabella Stark was the youngest of four children and the only member of the family to still reside in the town. The family's fortunes have fallen recently, necessitating Mistress Stark to lease out a floor in her home to the Circle Station. It's not something she would have done under other circumstances, but she didn't have much choice. And Arabella Stark, for all of her narrowminded prudery, is a survivor.  She will do whatever she has to, to ensure the success of herself and her family.

Doric Rider, L4 Human Merchant

Doric Rider runs a livery stable in Widowmaker Bay. He mostly rents out horses to folk who need to travel to Gullcliff or Moontree. Rider's family is fairly new to Widowmaker Bay (less than three generations have lived in the town) and there are rumors he has orc blood in him, considering his prodigeous strength and stamina. Of course, no one says anything about it to Doric, but behind closed doors people gossip. Doric is aware of the gossip, and it's starting to grate on him.  Sometimes, he dreams about setting fire to the town and riding away on one of his horses.  Outsiders, especially those with orcish blood, might find Doric a useful ally while in town.

Issilor Roseoil, L9 Half-Elf Pirate

Issilor Roseoil walks through the streets of Widowmaker Bay at night, sure in his confidence that there is nothing more frightning in this shithole town than himself. A smuggler and pirate, his fortunes took a turn for the worse and he wound up in Widowmaker Bay. He's biding his time until he can leave the town, trying to keep a low profile, but its hard. Issilor hates this town with a passion and spends as little time as possible among the locals. Most days, he can be found wandering the beach or sitting in the Temple of Solat. The Temple has become his favorite place in Widowmaker Bay. He's started reading some of the old books there, more out of boredom than anything else, and feels a curious sense of empathy with the Deep God.

Lux Tenebris: Widowmaker Bay - Part One

Physicality returned with brutal suddenness.

Malora found herself on hands and knees, gasping for breath, trying to remember how to breath and process sensory information.

"What in the Twelve Hells is that?"

The voice was feminine and nasal, the kind of voice that could strip paint off of a wall. Malora had heard such voices before. It centered her.

Raising her head, she saw a tall thin human woman standing over her. She wore a long black dress and leaned on a mahogany walking stick. Her hair was pulled back from her face and secured in a tight knot. The woman's face was powdered and thin, with black tinted lips and a beauty mark at the right corner of her mouth. She peered at Malora with suspicion.

A figure moved forward, brushing past the woman. The man was tall and thin, wearing wizardic robes, and a blue cap. He bent and helped Malora stand.

"Please forgive, Mistress Stark," said the wizard. "I am Aldoral Dusk, Master of the Widowmaker Bay Circle Station.  Mistress Icefire sent word that you would be arriving today, Lady Malora."

"Lady?" Mistress Stark's nose wrinkled in disapproval.

"Yes, Mistress Stark," said Aldoral Dusk. His tone was firm and cold. "This is Lady Malora of Fallen Baramir. You will address her by her title and show her proper respect. Am I understood?"

The pale woman shrank back from the wizard's tone and she bobbed a quick curtsy. "Yes, Master Dusk. My apologies, milady."

"Come, Lady Malora." Dusk offered her his arm. "We have a private lounge nearby where you can recover from the circle."

Malora took the wizard's arm, somewhat reluctantly. "I've traveled by circle before but it was never like that. Like . . . ."  Words failed her.

"Aye," said the wizard. "It's a unique experience. Fortunately, once you've been through our circle network once, subsequent journeys are less upsetting."

He led her away from the circle. Malora let her gaze wander over her surroundings. The circle occupied a large, dim room. The walls were made of unadorned wood. Light was provided by a trio of large oil lamps, set in the corners of the room.

Dusk led Malora through a set of double doors, into a corridor painted a ghastly shade of green. Framed paintings of sour-faced men and women lined the wall. They bore a strong resemblance to Mistress Stark.

Aldoral Dusk led Malora into a side room. It was small and furnished with a fainting couch that had seen better days. There was a side table with a bottle of spirits and a number of small glasses. He poured her a glass of something thin and green.

Malora sniffed it. The glass smelt strongly of licorice.

"A restorative, milady," explained Dusk, and poured one for himself. "Would you like the window open?"

He nodded at the narrow, shuttered window at the far end of the room.

"Please," said Malora. The room was stuffy. The couch smelt of dust and neglect.

Dusk waved a hand and the window opened, revealing a gray sky. A cool, wet wind blew into the room. Malora inhaled, smelling the familiar scent of the sea.

Mistress Stark appeared at the door. "I've had the lady's belongings taken down to the hall, Master Dusk."

"Thank you," said Malora, but the woman had already gone.

"She's never met a drow before, has she?"

"I'm afraid that Mistress Stark has led a sheltered life," said the wizard. He tossed back his drink, and smacked his lips appreciatively. "Ah! But what she lacks in the social niceties, she makes up for with her expertise in spirits."

Malora took a tentative sip of the drink and almost choked. It smelt like licorice, but burned like strong peppermint.

"Demon's teeth! What is this?"

"It's called heartsfire, I believe," said the wizard. "Very popular around these parts."

"And it's a restorative?"

"I believe they give it to drowned sailors, to get them back on their feet."

"Yes, well, if someone poured that down my throat, I would probably get to my feet just to run away from them," said Malora.

Dusk chuckled.

"Mistress Icefire said you were heading to Moontree. Will you be traveling by horse or carriage?"

"Horse, if I can find one."

"There's a livery stable in town," said Dusk. "I can put in a word with the owner if you like."

"That would be very appreciated," said Malora.

"I'll write a letter." Dusk hesitated. "Were you planning on staying in town overnight?"

"Do you advise it?"

"Honestly? No, I don't. Widowmaker Bay is a small community, milady, and not the most . . . egalitarian. If you understand."

Malora chuckled. "I understand perfectly."

"The folk in Moontree are much more open-minded," said the wizard. "Especially since the Sybrows were chosen as the new leaders."

"What happened to the old leaders?"

"Killed during the war. There's supposed to be a son up north somewhere, still alive, but no one's heard a thing from him. And, well, if he came back now, I doubt he'd be welcomed with open arms."

"What about the city?"

"Sacked," said the wizard. "But they've rebuilt, and trade has never been better."

Malora nodded. She took another tentative sip of heartsfire. It was less shocking the second time.

"And the road between here and Moontree?"

"Fairly safe, milady. I would avoid the villages between here and Gullcliff, if I were you, and, er, there is an elvish settlement called Elawor. . . ."

"I'll avoid it," said Malora. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, milady. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and write that letter for you."

He bowed and withdrew, leaving Malora alone.

After a moment, she stood and walked to the window. The breeze was constant and cool. From the window, Malora had a vague sense of the house that circle station occupied. It was large and weather-beaten. The exterior walls and shingles were black and she identified a widow's walk on a nearby roof.

Beyond the house, the ground appeared to slope away, ending in a dense cluster of similar black-shingled rooftops that made up the town of Widowmaker Bay. Beyond the town, the waters of the bay slapped ferociously at a gravel beach.  Arms of rocky land could be seen jutting into the waters of the bay. On the nearer arm, the one to the south, Malora saw a lighthouse rise like a defiant soldier, facing down gray sky and blackish water.

It all looked very quaint, but if Mistress Stark was an example of the locals, Malora had no desire to linger in this place. Better to get a horse and start south, to Moontree deliver the letter and then get on with her own affairs.