11. Dunstan's Boatwright

Tucked against the inner bend of the Imeryds Run, within shouting distance of the Boatman’s Wharf, Dunstan’s Boatwright is the primary ship-repair facility for Nulb’s river traffic. The workshop is a hive of clanging mallets, boiling pitch, and shouted orders—essential for the repair of hull breaches, scorched decks, and torn rigging brought in by pirates, smugglers, and merchant vessels alike.

Despite its necessity, the business operates under the uneasy shadow of Nulb’s criminal web. Dunstan and his crew serve pirates, Temple agents, and merchants without asking questions—but always listening closely.

"Rivets, pitch, and prayers—that’s what holds half the fleet together."

— Dunstan Bravlin, Master Boatwright of Nulb

The Carpenter’s Shop & Dock

Structures & Layout

• Main Workshop Hall: A long, plank-floored building open to the river. Timber ribs and half-built hulls hang from beams like carcasses. Casks of pitch and racks of oars line the back wall.
• Boatyard Docks: 3 boat-slips with sloped ramps for hauling small-to-medium boats ashore.
• Pitch Furnace & Drying Rack: Covered lean-to for boiling caulk and drying planks in all seasons.
• Bravlin Family Cottage: Attached to the shop via a covered breezeway. Sparse but sturdy, with tools, maps, and salvage tokens covering the walls.

Political & Criminal Ties

• Boatman’s Tavern & Captain Tolub: Dunstan does frequent business with Tolub’s pirates, repairing arrow-scarred hulls and burnt decking with no questions asked. He’s been paid in both gold and favors, though he doesn’t trust Tolub’s explosive crew.
• Temple of Elemental Evil: Dunstan has refitted several boats under false names—crewed by men in black sashes and blank eyes. He suspects Selentis is behind them. He does not ask questions but has started keeping records in a hidden logbook.
• Madame Selentis (Nysera): Her agents sometimes deliver crates for secret waterproofing or reinforcement—possibly for transport of prisoners. Dunstan complies, but keeps a sharp eye on her men and their movements.

Reputation in Nulb

• Respected by Merchants: For honest (if curt) work.
• Feared by Brigands: Rumors say Dunstan once drowned a pirate captain who tried to cheat him.
• Tolerated by the Temple: Considered a neutral craftsman—but too useful to threaten openly.

DM Secret Hooks

• The Secret Ledger: Hidden under a false plank beneath the pitch furnace is Dunstan’s hand-scribed ledger of every pirate, smuggler, and strange black-robed crew who’s brought a ship to his dock—including coded dates, symbols, and destinations. It could expose half the Temple’s trade routes.
• Blackmail Material: Tibber once saw a Temple agent dragging a blood-soaked crate off a barge late at night. He hasn’t spoken—yet.
• Potential Ally: If convinced the Temple is about to ruin Nulb, Dunstan may offer his docks for resistance operations. But he’ll need a promise of protection for his girls and Tibber.

Potential Adventure Hooks

• Cracked Keel, Cracked Secrets: A seemingly routine repair job reveals a hidden compartment containing Temple documents or prisoner shackles.
• Tibber’s Tune: Tibber sings a song at the tavern that contains coded information about a Temple shipment—someone wants him silenced.
• Marnie’s Choice: Marnie is torn between aiding a Tolub lieutenant or helping adventurers bring him down.
• The Night Fire: A fire breaks out at the workshop—sabotage? Cover-up? Temple warning?

Relationship Summary

Dunstan Bravlin's Tale of the Peg-Leg and the Fens

Scene Setup:
The adventurers arrive at Bravlin’s Dockhouse, where Dunstan and his son Orryn are hard at work repairing a small riverboat—a battered skiff half-gutted by a monster’s claws. Dunstan’s whalebone peg-leg taps a steady rhythm on the planks as he oversees the shaping of new hull strakes.

Rain threatens the horizon. Fog clings to the water. The smell of pitch, river rot, and swamp reeds hangs heavy in the air.

Dunstan Bravlin (gruff, leaning on a rib of boat frame):
"You lot lookin’ for a ferry or a funeral? ‘Round here, it’s often both."

Adventurer:
"We heard you used to run the rivers. Something about the Fens of Tor. You’ve seen Zassil’torr?"

Dunstan (scoffs, spits off the dock, nods slowly):
"Aye. I’ve seen it. Felt it too. Took my leg, didn’t it?"

He lifts his whalebone peg and knocks it once on the dock for emphasis.

"Back then, I was no dockhand. I ran with a crew—Bravlin’s Banner, they called us. Took a job for Tolub hisself, running barrels of Daggercap Mushrooms and silvered weapons up the Run, past the weeping reeds and deep into the swamp-bog."

Dunstan (voice low now, haunted):
"We got too close to Torfen. The lizardfolk called it Zassil’torr. Stilt-village in the mist, bone lanterns swingin’ in the dark like swampfire. Thought we’d trade. Offer iron tools and steel knives for poison-frogs and bark tinctures. Good trade, yeah? But we didn’t count on him..."

Orryn Bravlin (quietly, with respect):
"The Witch Doctor. Ssarkosh the Whispering Flame."

Dunstan (nods gravely):
"He was there. Painted in blood and ash, his breath hissin’ like a steam kettle. Said we’d come without the blessing of Semuanya. Said we brought... rot into the waters. I tried to reason, but my deckhand Drevik insulted a Marsh Mother. Called her a 'frog with breasts.' Gods help us."

Adventurer:
"What happened?"

Dunstan (grips his knee, eyes far away):
"They let us leave. Thought we were safe. But an hour out, in the deepest muck, they struck. Lizardfolk raiders with war spears, gliding like ghosts on their swamp-lizards. Came out of the reeds, no sound, no warning. Killed two men, pulled me overboard. Something big bit my leg—thought it was a croc, but it hissed. Spoke to me in Draconic. Said I’d been marked."

"When I woke up, I was back on the skiff, fevered, blood everywhere. My leg gone from the knee. The Witch Doctor let me live. I don’t know why. Maybe to send a message."

He leans in, voice low and grave.

"That swamp’s alive, friend. With gods and ghosts. If you go pokin' into Torfen, you best not blink. The lizardfolk ain't just beasts—they’re a people. Divided, yes. But some want peace, others want our heads on poles."

Dunstan (spits again, this time into the fire pit):
"Now I build boats for those foolish enough to try again. Tolub pays me well. So do the Temple’s men. Even the pirates come to Bravlin’s Dock when their hulls are chewed by marsh horrors. But me? I stay put. My sailing days died with my leg in the black water of the Fens."

Narration Option for DM:

Dunstan Bravlin’s tale hangs heavy in the damp air, the rhythmic scraping of Orryn’s planer the only sound for a moment. There is something else in his gaze—not just regret, but fear, the kind born of a lesson learned in blood. The kind that whispers of ancient gods still watching from behind the swamp’s misty veil.