Driftwood and the Old Dock

The Driftwood is more than wood, rope, and river. It breathes with the history of the Rhenee who shaped it, from the burnished carvings along the cabin doorframe to the scars along its hull where storms have tested its mettle.

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The dock sat quiet most mornings, except for the soft lapping of the Selitan River and the distant calls of gulls from the Free City’s piers downstream. The wood, old but lovingly maintained, bore the scars of a life lived well—salt streaks, faded carvings, and the faint scent of tar and river mud baked into its grain. To most, it seemed a humble place, a forgotten Rhenee mooring passed between generations. But to Ilias Ralesh, it was his inheritance—an unexpected legacy woven with memory, wood, and water.

The dock had belonged to his uncle, a weathered riverhand who had taught Ilias the art of river navigation and the quiet wisdom of the currents. When the old man passed, the matriarchs of the clan honored his final wishes by gifting the dock to Ilias. Yet it was not the dock alone that bore the weight of legacy. Moored at the far end, half-hidden beneath a canvas tarp, lay The Driftwood—the very barge Ilias had fished from as a boy, learning the rhythm of the waters. The ship had been unmentioned in the will, but the elder who dreamed of Ilias guiding it through a storm declared the omen clear. The barge was his now, and he embraced it as home.

The Driftwood

The Driftwood itself is a broad-keeled river barge, its hull scarred but sound, the wood varnished back to life under Ilias' patient hand. The top deck is open, clean, and practical, a space where crates can be secured, nets mended, and weary travelers might sit to watch the river’s flow. Lantern hooks line the rails, and the occasional coil of rope or crate suggests ongoing work. The heart of the vessel rises from the aft where the cabin stands, its curved roof and large, wraparound windows giving Ilias a panoramic view of the river. Within the cabin, the scent of wood polish mingles with the brackish air. A hammock, knotted from old river rope, sways beneath a shelf lined with personal mementos—smooth river stones, a brass compass worn from use, and an ancient coil of navigational charts inked by hand.

At the helm, Ilias feels most at home, his hands on the aged wheel, the sensation of the vessel’s subtle movements echoing the river’s pulse. This space, both his quarters and bridge, holds a quiet calm—a sanctuary where the river itself seems to murmur through the timbers.

The Workshop Below Deck

Beneath the deck lies the workshop, a marvel of efficient craftsmanship. The space is compact but meticulously organized, with every tool, clamp, and lantern finding its place. The scent of sawdust and oil mingles with iron and polish. The ceiling is low, the air warm, the sound of gentle hammering or the scrape of a chisel never far away.

This is Tormek Hragsson’s domain. The Oeridian shipwright, broad-shouldered and steady-handed, keeps the workshop running smoothly. His woodcarving tools are arranged with obsessive care—each chisel sharpened, every plane honed to perfection. Tormek restored the structure of the barge himself, and though his manner is gruff, his craftsmanship speaks volumes.

Across from his workstation, Eska “Whistle” Thornbough has claimed a corner where strange contraptions of glass, copper wire, and gears clutter her workbench. The Hairfoot’s delicate touch brings a finer artistry to the workshop—glass-blown ornaments, trinkets, and repaired baubles fill a low shelf where completed works are stowed.

And then there’s Dovrik Anvilarm, the stonemason. His section of the workshop feels more like a corner of a dwarven hold—polished stone tiles, chisels, and a compact forge for setting metal into his carvings. Dovrik speaks little, but his work—solid, timeless, and unmistakably dwarven—adds a sense of permanence to the vessel.

The Storehouse

Adjacent to the dock, an old riverside warehouse has been repurposed as The Driftwood’s storehouse. Here, crates of rare herbs, barrels of salted fish, and delicate goods brought in by river trade are cataloged and sold under the watchful eye of Olyn Farbrook. The tiefling’s horns curve gently back from his crimson face, his eyes sharp with the calculating gaze of a man who understands both value and leverage.

Olyn was once a negotiator for the Molloquad Consortium, and it shows. His ledger is immaculate, his record-keeping precise. He carries himself with quiet confidence, offering fair deals but never missing a chance to press an advantage. Under his care, the storehouse turns a modest but reliable profit, funding both the upkeep of the barge and the livelihoods of the crew.

The Bastion's Soul

Ilias treats it as both home and legacy. Each worker helps to complement the whole—the master shipwright who rebuilds what was broken, the tinkerer who finds beauty in the smallest fragments, the stonemason who crafts permanence, and the merchant who keeps the river of commerce flowing.

It is not grand. It is not imposing. But it feels alive, like the river itself—endlessly moving, endlessly carrying those who call it home forward.

Character: Ilias Ralesh

Player: Tom

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City Quarter: The Wharves

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Bastion Facilities:

• Storehouse
• Workshop

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