Parrot Falls roars with rainwater, rum, and salt air. Lanterns swing under the rafters, throwing gold across wet boards and a room packed tight with sailors, dice, and bad intentions.
Docksend pushes in with the tide of noise and finds the corner table. A free-black sailor stands there, jaw set, shoulder-to-shoulder with a sharp-eyed contact in a green coat.
The Free-Black Sailor
You sold me to a treacherous captain, Jorvan. I have the names. I have the scars. Pay what you owe, or bleed for it.
Jorvan Vale
Mind your tongue. Captain Morrow has friends, and this tavern has walls enough to keep your trouble inside.
The free-black sailor answers by slamming a heavy tankard down hard enough to splash ale across the table. Chairs scrape. Nearby laughter dies in the throat.
Steel flashes. Someone at the next table shouts. A fist flies. Then another patron shoves a bottle aside and the whole room tips into chaos, benches overturning and tempers turning personal.
Docksend has a clear lane for one breath, maybe two, before the brawl reaches him.
✓ Quest Accepted
Help the free-black sailor survive the brawl
“Kick the table into the path of the men rushing the sailor.”
SUCCESS (Great Strength, rolled +0)
Docksend drives his boot into the table leg. Wood skids hard across the wet boards, and the corner table lurches into the lane of charging men.
Mugs jump. Dice scatter. One would-be striker stumbles over the table edge and crashes shoulder-first into a bench, taking two more with him.
The Free-Black Sailor
Good. Keep them off me.
Jorvan Vale
There, see to your own necks! He is the trouble, not me!
Jorvan backpedals behind the wrecked furniture, using the fallen table as a wall while the brawl surges around it.
The sailor stays upright, blade still in hand, eyes locked on his target through the chaos.
The Free-Black Sailor
Jorvan, run if you like. I have not forgotten the names you sold me to.
Quest Complete
Help the free-black sailor survive the brawl