The Crooked Compass
Est. 2026 • Human Fighter
The Crooked Compass
The shop is called The Crooked Compass, a narrow general store wedged between a chandlery and a tavern on the oldest pier. Its roof leans toward the sea, its wi...
Shopkeeper
Mara Venn, a Human Fighter (Lvl 7)
Keeper's Species
Human
Shop Inventory
(21)A salt-stained knife with a bone handle, useful for cutting rope, opening crates, or settling arguments in close quarters.
A compact crossbow designed for shipboard use, its short limbs less likely to catch on rigging or cabin beams.
A balanced dagger with a darkened blade and a ring pommel for clipping to a belt or harness.
A broad-bladed handaxe favored by deckhands for cutting lines and by pirates for making introductions.
Twenty iron-tipped bolts packed in a tarred leather sleeve against sea spray.
A black leather flask with a brass cap, sized for a belt and sealed against seawater.
Hardtack, dried fish, pickled onions, and a strip of smoked kelp wrapped in waxed cloth.
A compact climbing kit assembled for rigging, sea caves, and ruined watchtowers above the tide line.
A tarred canvas case holding everything needed to make light in a wet hold or storm-battered cavern.
A bundle of waxed cord, sailmaker’s needles, spare canvas, thread, and palm guards, all smelling of tar and cedar.
A tiny brass compass sealed inside a glass bead, suspended from a cord braided in red and black thread.
A waxed paper tube packed with saltpeter and powdered shell, stamped with a crimson skull.
A waterproof journal bound in sharkskin, with copper corners and pages that resist damp and bloodstains.
A navigator’s bundle wrapped in oilcloth, smelling of brine, lamp smoke, and old parchment.
A scarred wooden case containing files, awls, whetstones, pliers, oil, spare rivets, and small brass fasteners.
A sleeveless leather vest reinforced with small metal plates, scuffed by salt, sand, and boarding actions.
A battered coat of overlapping iron scales, cut short at the knees so the wearer can climb and swim more freely.
A reinforced round shield painted with a faded black gull. Its inner rim is fitted with hooks for securing it to a pack or rail.
A red potion with a sharp iron taste and a cork sealed beneath blue wax. The bottle glows faintly in moonlight.
A cloudy green draught of ginger, citrus peel, saltwort, and a faintly tingling alchemical additive.
A pearlescent blue liquid that tastes of cold rain and leaves the throat cool for several minutes.
Lootable Stash
(6)Where The Take Sits
Security Check
On Failure
Estimated haul
624.67 gp
Iron Cashbox
Mara Venn’s Keepsake Bundle
Black-Tide Customer Ledger
Emergency Potion Crate
Unregistered Wreck Chart
Captain’s Silvered Dagger
Mara Venn
Shop Atmosphere
“The shop is called The Crooked Compass, a narrow general store wedged between a chandlery and a tavern on the oldest pier. Its roof leans toward the sea, its windows are round like ship portholes, and every floorboard gives a different creak underfoot. The air carries tar, dried citrus, lamp oil, and the mineral tang of salt. Nets hang from the rafters beside lanterns, coils of rope, patched sails, and racks of tools. Rain taps against the glass while gulls shriek above the roofline, and somewhere below the boards, harbor water knocks patiently against the pilings. Goods are arranged by danger rather than convenience. Food and rope sit near the door, weapons line the walls, armor hangs from hooks, and potions rest behind a brass-grated counter. The owner, Mara Venn, is a one-eyed human veteran with iron-gray braids, a weathered blue coat, and a brass prosthetic finger that clicks whenever she drums it on the counter. She knows every ship in the harbor by its lantern pattern and every sailor by the way they walk. Mara offers fair prices to crews who pay their debts, but she adds a surcharge to anyone who insults the sea, cheats a dockworker, or tracks mud across her charts. Her mastiff, Bilge, sleeps beneath the counter with one ear raised. Behind the shop, a narrow stair climbs to a cramped loft and a roof hatch used by a teenage lookout named Pell, who watches for harbor patrols and rival crews. The shop’s most valuable stock is not displayed openly. Experienced customers ask for the items below the counter, then wait while Mara studies their face, their boots, and the salt on their cloak before unlocking the grate and reaching into the dark. As the evening tide rises, Mara slams the shutters against the spray and begins counting the day’s coin.”
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