"Mm, our casters need rest, but is this a safe place for it?"
"Maybe we find spot where Drow kipped down and take it over?" Anklebiter suggests.
"We've explored the whole cave system and didn't find anything like a bedroom. They probably slept on hammocks or some such. No reason we can't just use the ground, though. I've slept on worse in my time."
"Let's use a dead-end room that isn't so close to the water, though," Anklebiter suggests. "And let's seal it off, if we can. I don't want to wake up because a not-lion or some horrible thing from beneath the water is eating me feet-first."
"Fine, fine... let me know what to shove to 'seal' things off..." Lefrik says, pretty sure he'll do the heavy lifting, "And where."
It doesn't take long to make your way back up the narrow ledges to the brush at the top of the cliffs. A few minutes more and the edge of Zincher's camp can be seen. Akron Erix is standing near the remains of last night's bonfire, directing some of the men as they take down tents and stack supplies back in crates. The whole process has a hurried air to it, as if it was a last-minute decision.
When the group comes up to the camp, the sentinels may notice that Anklebiter is carrying a bundle, wrapped in a cloak. The Goblin's eyes flick from thug to lackey, busy as they are at dismantling the camp.
"What happen?" Anklebiter asks out loud, his tone somewhat mocking. "You all going to the beach for fun?"
"What the hells is going on?" Calla asks, no particular rancor in her tone despite her wording.
"If I didn't know better, Calla, I'd say it looks like Zincher's cutting his losses on this gods-forsaken isle," Bruendor replies, glancing towards Erix to see his reaction.
"That mean he finally catch him a not-lion, or tongue-a-lolling corpses?" Anklebiter asks out loud.
At the companions' hail, Erix turned and headed over. He looked from side to side for a moment, his sneer evaporating as he saw that no one was watching them, nor close enough to overhear.
"What did you do? All of a sudden Zincher goes from a moody b+@%* to his old decisive self. He told us to get packed up and ready to move out. He wants to be off this island by nightfall. Weeks of standing around with our..." he glanced at Kelendra and coughed. "Weeks of standing around and now he wants to just up and leave. I know we ain't got the kind of noqual he wanted, and none of them purple beasts either, thank the gods. Still, he acts like 'mission accomplished' and is ready to bug."
"Ah," Anklebiter says, nodding. "Killed the Drow that was enchanting him, we did. Killed several Drow. See?"
The Goblin opens up the bundle enough so that Erix can see the proof.
"Don't worry, I only brought it as proof, not to eat or animate it. I'll bury it, burn it or throw it in the sea once we're done with it. Now. If you can read Undercommon, we have written proof that Zincher was marching to the Drow's tune."
"Now try convincing him that we did him a favor," he snorts
"Undercommon? I can barely read common. Still, that there is the proof I needed to take Zincher in. The Sable Company can choke on his reek for a while. Maybe they'll be interested in the book too, yah?" The man's eyes light for a moment with thoughts of payment from the Sable Company. "In any case, we need to get control of Zincher before he gets back to his power base in Riddleport. He's vulnerable out here."
Akron Erix looks at you for a few moments as he idly stroked his heavy jaw. "Don't take this the wrong way, but if you go after Zincher, he'll put up a fight. He knows you ain't too fond of him, and the feeling's mutual. But, if you could start a distraction of some kind, maybe Betsy can take him before he gets too suspicious. What do you say?"
"We're pretty spent after dealing with the drow. Is there any way we can delay him until morning?"
"You can have a copy of the book," Anklebiter says, cautiously. "I haven't finished translating it all yet, and there's more going on than one stupid crimeboss. A distraction. Would he be distracted if his tent caught fire?"
"How much time do we have?"
Kel smirks a devilish grin, "Placing a small cantrip on the drow head to continually call out Zincher's name and then lobbing it into camp would create a distraction."
"I agree with Calla - we're game to take him on, but we nearly died getting this much. We square off against Zincher now, and we might be signing our own death warrants. You've still got his ear, Erix. Buy us some time, and we can add his head to our growing collection."
"I don't think so. He went from being consumed with the thought of capturing those purple beasts to wanting to bug out as soon as possible. He's not going to want to wait for anything, I don't think. On the other hand, he's so distracted with the thought of getting off-island, that I doubt he's really ready for a coup."
Bruendor weighed the man's words for a long while, then sighed. "What do you say, friends?", Bruendor asked his allies.
"Let's get it done," Anklebiter says. And, in a tone pitched only for the others' ears: "I'd like to see that bastard swing. Even if this latest mess is the fault of the Drow, he has plenty of other crimes to his own name."
"Yes, let's do this if we plan to." Though frightened, Kel does her best to appear determined.
"I like this idea," Anklebiter says, holding the head up to Lefrik and grinning widely. "If someone will cast the ghost sound-cantrip...?"
"You want to spook him?" Lefrik says slightly confused. His own plans typically are of the 'Find foe, smash foe, repeat as necessary'
"Make him come run out of his tent screaming in fear, he'll be plenty surprised, yes?" Anklebiters says, grinning.
"I agree," Bruendor says. "We need to drive a wedge between Zincher and his men, and the indigos are the best we've got. They might be some of the worst that Riddleport can offer, but some of them are bound to reconsider their allegiances once they learn that their boss was working with the same bastards that drowned hundreds. And while they falter, we strike."
"Ok, we have a plan for the most part, what phrase do we want the head chanting for half a minute and where should the head be lobbed for maximum effect?"
"How about 'Zincher, my slave, help me!'" Anklebiter suggests.