Open Talk of Treasure

Jaiden overhears an odd man's boast of treasure whereabouts. Intrigued by greed, he digs deeper.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Talk of Treasure

Postby Jaiden on March 25th, 2015, 10:39 pm


15th of Spring, 515 AV. Evening.

The hazy interior of World's End Grotto flowed with ale and mirth. The crowd was not wholly riffraff as he associated with East Street's Kelp Bar. This place was a mismatched quilt of scholars from the university, sailors, and artisans whom he noticed had an uncanny knack for bringing attention to their profession where coin was concerned. He nursed a half empty flagon whilst listening idly to Rica volley trade insights with a goose-necked lad from the university. "The tincture is particularly useful in the treatment of scurvy," he droned while Rica held a look of interest that nearly sickened him. Maybe he should have went to his neighborhood Kelp Bar after all. People there spoke his language. Still, despite the snore fest at hand, he knew it had been a wise decision when a rather wrinkled man with a scraggly beard entered. Now that guy looked interesting.

He did not disappoint either, stepping inside with a lively gait and passing right by his table to rap his knuckles on the bar. "Rum tis'. Nary a drink half as good, so says I. Rum for Helgath if you may," he said, and guffawed with a strange spasmodic gesture. Jaiden thought the man might be having a fit, but he could not be sure, for a tick later he seemed fine.
Jaiden heard a burly sailor aside Helgath say, "What's that old man? A treasure you say. Are you mad?"

"Not in the least bit. Aye! Gold and silver enough to make yerself a temple to the gods. Up in the Zastoska Mountains he hid it—"

"Wait one bloody chime. Who hid it? And just how did you get wind of this hmm?"

"Why, none other than Captain Foster. Laviku twice blessed."

"I 'eard of 'im. Tale is he was half Charoda, and a quarter Akvatari," said a swarthy man down the bar.

"Bah! Fiddlesticks! Every one knows Foster was just a pirate scum and a loon to boot. Done killed himself after his wife departed this world. Ain't nobody ever said nothing about no treasure," said the sailor.

Jaiden noticed by this time, quite a few had gathered closer to hear Helgath's story of treasure. Even a few of studious sorts were comparing notes about what they knew about this.... Captain Foster, whoever he was.

"Who the hell is Captain Foster?" asked Rica, mirroring his thoughts. He saw that she had finally tired of the man's lecture, much to the goose-necked lad's detriment who looked around nervously in the awkward silence.

Jaiden shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." He took another swig, and listened intently, leaning forwards slightly to hear Helgath, who now prattled on....

"Far up in the Zastoska Mountains, he hid it. See, he was going to use that booty to build his wife a castle up in them mountains. Twould also serve as a retreat fer members of his crew that did nae get the noose. Above all else, Foster took care of his own. As the gentleman here stated earlier, the death of his wife broke his will. But before insanity wrested what wits he had left, he devised a map that would lead his crew mates to the treasure."

There followed immediate chaos. Voices lapped over one another in outrage, inquiry, or just general curiosity to the validity of the old man's claim. The deep baritone of the sailor closest to Helgath rose above the din as he repeated his unanswered question, "Just how do you know all of this?"

The old man that called himself Helgath only smiled faintly, and drank gingerly from his mug. A mischievous sparkle in his aged eyes.
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