Rotipher of the FoS wrote:Ray Bradbury wrote that one IIRC, not Robert Bloch. Yes, that does have possibilities, although it'd fit better into the setting if the foghorn attracted a ghost ship rather than leftover plesiosaurs.
Thank you-my memory of that tale was indeed faulty. I suppose to be true to Ravenloft, someone would have to purposely summon the beast instead of it all being a tragic accident, but lighthouses are as good for stories as ships...
I recall a comedy film where the delightful Julie Newmar was a lighthouse ghost who'd summoned her captain to town to zombify them all for vengeance. Of course, the idea that someone from out of the area would have to take the lighthouse keeper job to initially rouse a vengeful ghost is very fitting, as is some sorceror type intent on making a lighthouse a spiritual as well as a physical beacon, to call down who-knows-what...
Lighthouses are great plot devices. There is something about being isolated on a small island while a dark storm rages that really brings out the gothic atmosphere.
Not actually gothic, but I recall watching a horror movie about a woman's ghost haunting a lighthouse. Tormented, I believe it was called... one of the most frightening movies I've ever seen, admittedly partially because of the background music that started every time she was about to enter. I couldn't even finish watching it... and for comparison, I watched the original House on Haunted Hill and it still didn't creep me out as bad as this did.
"Is there any word more meaningless than 'hope'? Besides 'blarfurgsnarg,' of course."
"Seek and Locate! Locate and Destroy! Destroy and Rejoice!"
Good point, arguably the Sea of Sorrows needs some lighthouses. Martira Bay is the most obvious candidate (and perhaps even its off shore islands) closely followed by Port-a-Lucine, Ludendorf and Mordentshire. Blaustein might merit one too.
Given the polyglot nature of Ravenloft, one doesn't need to have anything near a lighthouse but some sort of hazard-perhaps some bizarre priesthood that protects ships from monstrous rising islands or whatever the story requires.
d'Ysmaul wrote:Playing with the idea a bit, what about an island with a false lighthouse, deliberately built to wreck ships?
Monette uses this, as I recall.
It's a classic device, and quite appropriate to the setting, IMHO.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Wreckers were a common menace to shipping throughout history, and more despicable than pirates-much better hooks can be obtained from exploiting their presence, though the open sea doesn't give many opportunities...
Well, for one thing, the sea offers unique opportunity to the Core domains- open warfare. It connects several different countries and allows different powers to duke it out on the high seas in ways they couldn't on land. Von Riese, far as I recall, doesn't care much for the political affairs of his realm, so attacking fleets of ships firing cannon shots wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility.
Colonies also come to mind. The sea has islands unclaimed by Darklords. Making money and aquiring strategic trading routes would be high on the lists of many of our coastal domains.
I'd be particularly interested in the passage that connects the sea to Valachan (as briefly mentioned in the Red Box discussion on changes the Grand Conjunction made to the demiplane). I can see pearl divers off the Valachni coast. I can see comparatively primitive vessels assaulting Darkonian ships out of a strange sense of revenge. I can see hamlets turned into shipping towns ala Nevuchar Springs.
Here's something on wreckers I just sent Rotipher - it's an amalgum of Cornish wrechers and the isolated island of St Kilda, Scotland.
Cliffton, the Isle of Kelda
To the west of the Mordentshire coast, surrounded by jagged reefs, and icy surf, lies the tiny island of Kelda. Between sharp, mountainous peaks, and on the edge of a vertiginously high sea cliff is the village of Cliffton. This isolated little village is home to the Gullfoot clan of Halflings. To visitors the Gullfoot clan are hospitable, if somewhat reserved and standoffish with outsiders. But they are willing to trade with those that come to their island for various necessities that their craggy home cannot provide. The Kelda Islanders raise a breed of small, very rugged sheep on the craggy slopes of the island, and their sheep milk cheeses, and extremely warm, if rustic, woolen sweaters are sought after by sailors to keep at bay the chill sea of Sorrows air. A major component of the Kelda Islander’s diet is seaweed, which they frequently turn into thick, salty, gelatinous stews. The eggs of seabirds are also another important component of their diet, and from a very early age the islanders are trained to abseil down the steep cliffs of their island home to collect eggs of gannets, guillemots, puffins and especially prize, the large eggs of the great auk – are large flightless bird that nests in the rocky, inaccessible crags at the base of their cliffs, and which swims as fast and as dexterously as any fish (use the stats for a penguin – see Frostburn). In fact, over hundreds of years, and thanks to a high degree of inbreeding, the Gullfoot clan have evolved much longer, prehensile toes, than normal Halflings, which are a benefit to climbing. Thanks to centuries of inbreeding, the hands of the Gullfoot Halflings are also slightly webbed.
The village of Cliffton itself would be relatively easy to miss by outsiders – humped tussocks with tiny wooden doors cut deep into the sides of mounds can be found on the top of the cliff. With a low, grey stone building, built from rough hewn basalt blocks, and a small, white-washed stone chapel being the only structures that might be immediately obvious as a habitations by outsiders. These two buildings are the trading post (which because it has a small loft in which simple beds have been placed, also doubles as an in for the occasional visiting trader) run by Bob Shrew (Rogue 5) a short, stocky mordent sailor who became stranded on the island two decades ago, and who never left, and the chapel of Ezra, run by the only other human living on the island, the very reverend Collen Frissle. Rev. Frissle came to the island as a missionary and was shocked to find the locals worshiping idolatrous of a strange tentacle sea creature. He has since taken it to be his mission to educate the locals in the teachings of Ezra, and runs a small school for the children of the island. As the overseer of local weddings, he has also taken it upon himself to insure that local marriages (or at least as much as he can bearing in mind this very small and close-knit community) are less incestuous as they have been in the past.
The majority of the village is underground. Caves in the cliffface have been expanded over the decades to form a warren of passages and chambers, some of which exit at the surface via the doored mounds, others open out onto the cliff wall itself, and are joined to other passage openings by a spiderweb of ladders and rope bridges attached to the cliff face. The Halflings skitter about on these ladders and bridges, seemingly oblivious to the sheer drop to craggy rocks and pounding surf, several hundred feet below them.
Dark secrets
Although the Gullfoot halflings seem to be just another rural, albeit very isolated, community, all is not as it seems. For when the mist descend over the Sea of Sorrows, they bring out a magical lantern, which draws unsuspecting ships towards the island, smashing the vessels against the craggy shores. The entire community, or at least all those that are physically able, then descends the cliff faces, and plunder the wreckage, taking anything of value to furnish their homes, or to trade later with outsiders. It is said that deep within the cliffs lies a chamber full of ill gotten treasures, stash of plunder that would make a dragon envious.
Gullfoot Halflings have the +2 Dexterity and -2 Strength penalty of normal Halflings. However their insular nature also gives them a -2 penalty to Charisma, and their resilience from living such a harsh lifestyle grants them a +2 bonus to Constitution.
The standard Halfling +2 racial bonus to Climb, Jump and Move silently is replaced by +2 racial bonus to Climb, Use rope and Swim.
Wrecker’s light
This is a large oil burning lantern, triple the size of a normal lantern, with closeable shutters. The lantern burns oil at six times the rate of a normal lantern, and holds a reservoir equal to three flasks of oil at once. During a normal night, the lantern effectively functions as just a very large lantern, with its beam illuminating three times the distance as a normal lantern. However, on a foggy night magic-enhanced lenses make the light from the lantern travel a distance of up to 20 nautical miles, and those viewing the light are subjected to a powerful suggestion (DC 18) to steer their vessels towards the light, which in the case of the wrecker’s light used by the Cliffton Halflings, means bringing vessels onto the treacherous rocks around the Isle of Kelda.
I'm working on a sea-going lich that I've on a made-up island placed near one of the mistways in the Sea of Sorrows (The Emerald Stream leading to Sri Raji or The Way of Venomous Tears leading to Rokushima Taiyoo). His name is Stormcaster, and he's obsessed with sea monsters, buried treasures, ghost ships and other assorted nautical stuff.
His real name is Finrath, and he was born in Lamordia. Early on in his childhood he became interested in magic, which made him an outcast in such a rational-minded society. He stowed away on a merchant ship one day and never looked back. He learned bits of arcane lore from several different island domains, and discovered a lot about how the Demiplane works (especially Mistways). He set up a lair on a small, rocky island and built a fortress called Bleachbone Tower, casting many cloaking spells to guard against intrusions. Still, some well-known pirates are familiar with him, and deliver magical supplies and treasure to him on occasion.
I haven't statted him up yet, but thought I'd throw this out there just for fun.
An old (Rod Serling's) Night Gallery episode from the early 70's had a short about a sotted old salt telling a tale of encountering the most beautiful thing he ever saw, a mermaid. Nobody in the tavern took him seriously. Angered in the face of their mocking laughter, he swore he would see the beauty again, and so he stormed off straight-away for the nearby sea. Lo and behold, at the end of the dock he beheld her otherworldly vision below the surface of the sun-reflecting waters. Smitten to the core of his wits, he jumped into her bekonning embrace, only to discover too late her true countenance underwater... that of a creature best described as a reaver. Fade to the black depths, and back to Rod's tight-grinned commentary.
One use of this story could be a sea-witch type granting this illusionary power to local sea devils.
Another could be based off of the Hans Christian-Anderson tale, where an unfortunate lame maiden made a pact with a sea witch (hag?) to walk and win her love. Her heart chose poorly, and after the vain suitor (mayor's son?) discarded her, failure left her to a bitter fate. She was transformed into a reaver, hungry to devour any man that reminds her of her failed love. The witch's 'gift' remains in the illusion of a mermaid that lures sailors to their doom. Only underwater do the victims discover the true visage of the terrible monster she has now become.
As a twist, the mayor could be responsible for the spurning of the maid. He favored an arranged marriage for his son, and so sabotaged the affair. As victims of the reaver began to mount, he suffered recrimminating nightmares (sent by the witch?) His son, eager to help his ailing father, got a Tarroka reading from a passing Vistani caravan (or just plain confronted Dad). Suspecting the truth, he left for sea to confront the menace, but has been missing for days. The mayor is now willing to deal with adventures to save his son, of learn of his fate.
lazybones wrote:
Another could be based off of the Hans Christian-Anderson tale, where an unfortunate lame maiden made a pact with a sea witch (hag?) to walk and win her love. Her heart chose poorly, and after the vain suitor (mayor's son?) discarded her, failure left her to a bitter fate. She was transformed into a reaver, hungry to devour any man that reminds her of her failed love. The witch's 'gift' remains in the illusion of a mermaid that lures sailors to their doom. Only underwater do the victims discover the true visage of the terrible monster she has now become.
Here's a secondary twist on this one. The mermaid turned reaver has claimed so many men that she has grown bold enough to begin hunting the docks of the various seaports. On one such dock, She saw a man who was the virtual double of the vain suitor who so devastated her. She MUST have him, but there is one very serious barrier: he is BLIND! Her mermaid illusion will be useless against him. She will have to TALK to him to have any chance of seducing him. What if she falls in love again. Can she do anything but kill him?
Do us a favor Luv, Stick yer 'ead in a bucket a kick it!
So, gentlemen, that's how it is. Until Grissome.... resurfaces, I'm the acting president, and I say starting with this... anniversary festival, we run this city into the ground! :D
