Bolgrith sighs at the impertinent dismissal of one of the ruling house. Gently resting his shield edge down, he leans on the heavy wooden piece and says. "I think it's clear he has no intention of simply standing aside, Master Merchant. Perhaps it's in your best interest to comply with his wishes?"
Aid Diplo 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
"I..." Venjamin begins to answer the Stonebit, before being interrupted by the stormborn. He frowns, confused, though he cannot help a small smile. "...what?"
Bolgrith helps him remember the confrontation at hand. He huffs with impatience. "Very well..." he gestures dismissively, as though acquiescing to a request beneath him. "An amulet of a golden dragon, with emerald eyes and a large sapphire in its mouth. Each of its sixteen claws are narwhal ivory, and the span of its wings are reformed pearls from The Spires. The gold is of the purest quality, as though it never knew the filth of a mine. My price is a mere sixteen thousand in gold, well below it's market value." He pauses, looking Tolsbaer in the eyes. "If you must present my offer, tell High King Fivestone that Merchant Master Venjamin of Mirth possesses this treasure. He will need to summon me to his hall if he wishes to see this one-of-a-kind piece in person."
He watches Tolsbaer expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the way. "Are you satisfied?"
"I am." Tolsbaer says brightly. "In future, do not gamble your freedom and reputation to sell trinkets."
Tolsbaer turns and walks away. When some way off, he looks to the old dwarf. "Apologies, I couldn't help myself. Now, where to?"
Tynn turns a stone face to Stormcall, but after a quiet minute it gives way to the tired expression worn to tedious affairs. He glances up at Logan, and then to Bolgrith.
“To the Anvil island. Since we are already at the docks, we should make good use of our time and find passage there tonight. I hope you’ve learned to sleep at sea,” he says to the two men among the dwarves.
I need Perception and Diplomacy or Knowledge (local) checks to find a ship disembarking tonight, going to Anvil island.
Not only does Tolsbaer's familiarity with the docks help him know where to look, he also finds a good deal. The captain charges three gold pieces per passenger for the short journey. The crew is piling on the last of a few trade goods, and preparing ship for departure as the dwarven seadog, Captain Goldhorn, briefs the travelers. "I assume each o' you has been on a ship before? No filchin', stealin', murderin', drinkin', or disobeyin' once you climb aboard. We'll give ye safe passage to Anvil, but these rough waters get rougher, everyone's gotta help defend. Even you, greybeard. Castin' off in one hour."
Tolsbaer sees that years of brine and grimy cargo and deckhands have left their mark on the wooden surfaces of the ship. While the cleanliness might be laughable in comparison to young noble's pristine living quarters, he does notice a cabin boy mopping the deck of any dirt tracked in from the docks. The walkways are free of clutter and equipment is neatly stowed. Even if the ship is not free of grime, it is kept relatively clean and organized for its line of work. Captain Goldhorn makes a double-take over the finery worn by the Stormcall, and harrumphs uncomfortably. "Yes of course milord, my mate will gladly surrender his room for your service. For another two gold, iffin' ya please, sir." He makes a respectful nod to the Stormcall.
Coral tugs at Aladdin's cloak. "My father will expect me back here, on this island, the day after tomorrow. He is an easy-going man, until you cross him." She gravely warns the sorcerer. "If we dally too long on Anvil Island, and he does not find me here, he will fear the worst has happened to me."
Last call to grab anything before the ship departs!