While Astri handles dealing with the harbor master and locals, Bri take a quick down to the nearest food seller she can find. She looks for some breads, cheese, meat and fruit, paying for whatever she can find that is ready to eat. Stuffing some stuff into her haversack and carrying the rest, she take it back to the ship and the freed prisoners.
"Here's a bit for you all to eat while you decide on what you all want to do next."
When done with the former prisoners, Bri heads over to Miss Molly's to get cleaned up and casts mending upon her clothing to fix the arrow holes.
As far as the elves, they were part of a merchant band, there big concern is they were robbed and they are trying to figure out how get money and gear to get back home. One appears to know someone in town but it's too late to just show up seeking help.
The Tulita are suspicious of your ideas.
When done with the former prisoners, Bri heads over to Miss Molly's to get cleaned up and casts mending upon her clothing to fix the arrow holes.
Bri as you approach the bathhouse you hear the following being shouted at you, 'My moon an' stars, you guide my heart at n'ght, you are my l'ghthouse , milady. It is I, Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, driftin' hopelessly w'thout you." With a big flourish his massive feathered hat is off as ends in bow.
Cireladwen waits a moment to let her foreman's circulation return to normal. Kane, as competent as he is, makes an impressive impression of a dark fruit when he feels the need to yell.
The elf approaches quietly and then clears her throat.
"Mr. Kane, I need a minute." she interjects docilely.
"I have returned from an adventurous holiday... I'm afraid Lunis in the dockyard was right about the wilderness having an effect on me."She scratches the back of her head. "I'm going to join a crew of adventurers."
Well, she hears it as a graceful second, but it comes out rapidly.
"Now whatchagoneand do dat fer? I needyahere workin', yeh had halfabrain to keep them straight." Mr. Kane motions to the dockhands.
Astrianna sighs and crosses her arms, looking at Sorrin with all the excitement of watching a snail climb a tree. She had spent the entire day dealing with him, and frankly just wanted to be left alone for a little while. However, this could be a chance to finally get him to see her point of view. "I promise Boris will be just as eager to buy the ship tomorrow, perhaps even moreso if we express interest in purchasing one of the other ships."
She snorts when he begins talking about her new elf friend. "Her name is Cireladwen." She interjects, but continues to listen afterward. "Perhaps they don't care. Perhaps they would rather not have the responsibility. But I'm not taking the choice away from them. Unless they decide you or I will be in charge of everything, I'm still going to ask their opinion on the matter. I propose a plan, when they don't seem to care, I do what I believe is best, but I'm not going to simply go over their heads. If we get a ship, I know things will have to change. A ship does not run well with a complete democracy, especially in battle."
Fingers run across her chin for a moment on the mention of corruption. "Hargrove is certainly under suspicion, but maybe not for the reasons we think. The cults of Dajobas and the Kraken may be in the upper echelons of Shaw. You may get a chance to meet him tomorrow night at the Gullet. If he's there, please realize how powerful Hargrove is, and don't say anything rash."
The bard does nod her head in agreement about the Baron, though. "I do want the Baron, in fact, and the Thunderstrike would be my second choice, but we should tour the ships tomorrow before deciding where to put our money. Honestly, with the jobs we've been getting, one day we might be able to afford both."
She listens to his tale of his family and tribe, which she simply shrugs. "Some choose exile, others it is forced upon them. Many in our business are drifters with dreams they wish to make reality, but most get killed in the process. Trust me, I could tell you over fifty stories about them. I have found a better way- living this kind of life is my dream. Every moment I'm out there experiencing the thrill of the unknown I'm fulfilling my dream, but it is not something I will die for. No, I intend to live a long, rich, half-elven life, and I'd prefer to meet Pharmasa because I'm too stubborn to realize I can't quite ride a horse like I used to at one hundred and fifty years old. Truly, I wish you Cayden's luck in restoring your claim, but it is not a cause I have any interest in. Assisting you indirectly is good enough for me."
She shrugs, again, at his mention of leadership. "I disagree, there are people in this world better than others. How do you think the ruling class got it's beginnings? How your own line began? You, me, our companions. We're a cut above the peasants and the briny swill of the world, the mud-dwellers and the bottom feeders. They're entitled to their voice and choices as much as everyone else, but they're often stupid creatures, and their stupid choices keep them in a self-perpetuating cycle of stupidity and squalor. If you want to help them, you can try. There are some that simply need a leg up, but many will choose to abuse your help for their own gains, because that's how they've always lived. You want to break the cycle? Cayden's luck to you, again. Human history has a long, honored tradition of repeating itself, and once someone with power comes in and wrecks your establishments for their own gains things will go right back the way they were." She realizes she's own some kind of socio-economic rant with a hint of nihilism thrown in or some such, and waves a hand dismissively.
"We could debate this all night, and it really doesn't matter. Anyway. How about a compromise? Calm down a little, fleets dont' get built in a week. Stop with the holi-than-thou lectures, and stop trying to shove kindness down the throats of people who clearly don't want your help, such as Donovan. If someone says they don't want your help, then leave them alone, they've made their choice. If you can do that I'll be willing to cooperate with your desires of bettering the plebeians or whatever and building a fleet as long as they don't interfere with our jobs and income."
She grins. "For the record, I've never been offered marriage by an ex-prince, though a few Barons and Dukes are on the list. The answer is still no, of course. As for how history will remember me, I promise you it will be fabulously, because I'll be the one writing said history."
Bri gives them permission to sleep aboard the ship if they like. She feels pretty sure that it's not changing hands for at least a day, after all no good deals should be rushed.
To the Tulitas, she replies that she will speak to the others how to get them safely back to the outskirts.
To the elves she lets them know they may bunk down on the ship for the night so that they may check in with their friend tomorrow at a more reasonable hour.
To Thalios:
"Dondrel, you scoundrel you, good to see you again. Though I fear you have caught me looking quite a mess. We just had a bit of a go with some smugglers and rescued some slaves. I was about to go get cleaned up a bit at Miss Molly's."
As always he talks with grand hand motions. "My h'art warms with the thought of assistin' with a proper bath, perhaps you remember how soft Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai's hands can be." His hands end cupped over his heart and he has a devilish grin on his face, and you swear one thin eyebrow is still raised in a teasingly fashion.
You do pick up this information which gives you some insight and flavor of the tulitan plight and the Outskirts.
Life on the Razor forces many of the unfortunate and downtrodden to live beyond Fort Stormshield on the outskirts of Port Shaw. Bare survival on the edge of a harsh wilderness teeming with monsters is the fate of such outcasts. Most of the surviving Tulita population lingers in the Outskirts, as do those friends of the Tulita people who need to hide from the rulers of Port Shaw without leaving the city’s shadow.
Struggling against disease, famine, and aggressive predators, some of these proud people cling to life with the strength of their ancestors – even as their gods turn away. Others are beyond hope. More than half the Tulita population has been enslaved and toils under the backbreaking yoke of the plantations. Many of the rest – brothers, fathers and sons – take berths on whaling ships, leaving their loved ones to struggle in the Outskirts. Those left behind hope to make enough gold to buy back their family’s lands. Those who depart rarely return, as slavers posing as whalers lure gullible natives aboard before making a beeline for Carcass’ festering markets. Their orphaned families persist in the Outskirts, filled with hope, anger and despair in equal measure.
Anyone on the docks or living in Port Shaw would talk about Carcass in the following manner. Regardless the elves that you freed would tell you they were destined for Carcass.
Carcass lies South of Port Shaw across the Razor Sea, at the mouth of the steaming Sea of Bile, lies the single most repulsive community of pus-ridden pirate scum the world has ever seen. Ruled only by the mind-crushing enchantments of the Mage Kings, Carcass is home to slavers, demons, necromancers, cannibals, trolls and worse. Much of the city is built on the broken but still floating remains of over a dozen attack fleets – a massive raft of wreckage held together by weaves of animate kelp and by the several thousand writhing tentacles of some nameless horror beholden to the Mage Kings. Carcass is the single most hideous cesspool in existence, and no halfsane captain steers within 20 leagues of this festering port of sorrow.
Torgue pauses a bit as the dandy flomfphs around in front of the witch. Looks like someone is popular.
Well perhaps you will be spending some time with this fine fella? Torgue inquires of Embri. If so, I'll let ya have your privacy and just get myself a tub.
If Embri is planning on a double-tub, Torgue heads into Miss Molly's for his own pool to wash off the grime,sweat, blood and..whatever that lump in his hair is and will ease back with a cool tankard after a hard couple of days.
Turning now to Torgue, "I am not a man of great strength, but I, Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, do appreciate a solid man...a protector of life's precious flowers. Do not rush off, just yet." He motions to the two girls. "You have discriminating tastes that surely extends to your palate of fine ales, you have a look about you, will do you me the greatest honor and share a tankard of this wonderful buttery apple crisp ale that I have right here on my very person. For I, Thailos Dondrel, son of Mordekai would consider it an honor." With that he pulls out a one gallon clay jug out of a clearly magical sack. 'Protecting such beauty can can leave you parched," as he readies to pour the drink into a tankard he is certain the big man has accessible. "Perhaps you need some assistance in escorting these wonderful gifts to Miss Molly's?'
His eyes widen when he sees Chell. "Oh my, my...how my bones are blanched in your divine radiance. How rude is Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, for my eyes must deceive me for Quell has blessed this holy spot that my feet do stand upon, to wash ashore such a beautiful sea nymph to behold, I am the luckiest man alive." There is a very short pause, "No, the second luckiest man alive along with my unnaturally large friend here," He motions with the jug to Torgue, "I am Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, at your very service." His grin is a wide as the deepest canyon that your eyes have seen that is right before he kisses your hand.
Torgue's nose twitches as the clay jug is opened and the scent wafts out. Apples? Yes, Mm...Hops from the eat plantation as well.
Yes indeed I have a mug. Torgue pulls one out from his own haversack and accepts it being filled by Thalios. Bringing it to his nose, Torgue sniffs and swirls it around. Butterly apple, yes! Very good. Torgue sips and tilts his head back, swishing it about before swallowing.
Hmm.Ho! Haha! Yes! Indeed this is an excellent ale! Hops from the East plantation and aged in seasoned casks. Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai you are indeed a man of the hop. I would be glad to have you come along to Miss Molly's with us, if the ladies don't mind.
"Now whatchagoneand do dat fer? I needyahere workin', yeh had halfabrain to keep them straight." Mr. Kane motions to the dockhands.
Cireladwen smiles warmly, as this backhanded compliment is as close to endearment as she will find with Mr. Kane.
"You know these fellows aren't typically subtle about what they want. You've done well in keeping them on task during all the time I've known you, Foreman Kane. As for reasons, I should tell you that I can do more good for this port with my bow than a saw, at this point."She makes a sympathetic head-tilting motion. "Besides, it is about time I committed to something new, lest I lose my motivation."
She holds out a hand. "It has been a pleasure, Mister Kane. I hope things go well for you and the boys, here."
He looks at the extended hand and shakes his head with deep exhale. Then I shakes it. "Ifyawanta job lookmeup." He glances back at his crew, Yous sonofaseawhore git t'work."
The elf bows again and backs away from the area, waving at another dockhand before bounding away into the night. Honestly, she thought the experience would be harder, but the farewell didn't cause as much heartbreak as she expected. It wasn't like she'd never be back to the port, and the employee roster surges and ebbs like a tide without her help.
She could use a bath or speak to her parents, she supposes, but isn't apt to do either tonight. In the case of the latter, she feels that there is nothing new to be said, even with the co-opting of a half-elf to their family name.
They'd probably not be happy about it, but the name is just as much Cireladwen's as it is theirs, and culture dictates that being disowned for offending your forebearers is, at most, a spiritual inconvenience or the pathway to being shunned. They can't literally take your name away from you... But they can look at you with that sallow disappointment as their own culture drifts further out of their reach. More likely, though, they would be upset that their daughter had co-opted a creature that would not live long enough to mature properly.
That had been their issue with her brother and his progeny.
Ah, well...
Back to the ship.
Bow in hand in case she has to defend herself on darkened piers, Cireladwen lopes back to the docked vessel.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Chell says to Embri and Torgue before heading back to the Dragon's Tail and approaching Donovan. "Captain Donovan. You mentioned to Embri that the Vintage lists to port right? Do you happen to know the cause? I intend to prepare spells to get us back in shape tomorrow and one of the Domains I have grants me the power to fix objects. If the cause is small enough I may be able to fix it quickly and without pulling it off. I think I can handle 50 to 60 cu ft."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Chell says to Embri and Torgue before heading back to the Dragon's Tail and approaching Donovan. "Captain Donovan. You mentioned to Embri that the Vintage lists to port right? Do you happen to know the cause? I intend to prepare spells to get us back in shape tomorrow and one of the Domains I have grants me the power to fix objects. If the cause is small enough I may be able to fix it quickly and without pulling it off. I think I can handle 50 to 60 cu ft."
"She list out of defiance." He chuckles. "She may be broken in lesser hands, but she obeys well enough; she also seems partial to Bri's firm hand." He shrugs, "some folks don't bother with the ugly girl, but she can be an exciting ride too." His hand caresses the warped weathered wood.
It was a mistake coming to speak with you, my apologies. Turning on heel, Sorrin leaves.
"Every vessel deserves to be taken care of because every time you go out on the water you are putting your life in its hands. The Vintage has proven to be a capable ship, that is for sure. If you change your mind i can look into it. Before answering the call to Quell I was fancied becoming an architect."
She then walks away but sees that many of the former slaves are still here. She approaches Sorrin who seems to be trying to convince them of his idea but they look reticent. "If they need cot for the night they can head to the chapterhouse. Father Zalen would never turn away people just returned from slavery. I can stop by there before heading to Molly's"
To Thalios: Chell looks like a deer in the headlights when Thalios first talks to her. She was used to being over looked by most men with her plain looks and usually plain clothing. And a mithril breastplate wasn't a nearly as flattering as Embrianna's corset. Plus she was sure their were still a few blood stains on her. All she can manage is a blush and a stutter. "Um...It is n-nice to meet you...I think." She looks uncertainly at Embrianna, her eyes asking who this man is even though he said as much.
Sorrin listens to Chell. But also offers getting a room at the Green Dragon, closer to the group.
He (with whomever decided to join him) will first stop at The Run Aground.
Chell you can swear you feel is tongue actually touching the back of your hand before he stands upright. "Then it is settled, I, Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, will off'r my protection, guidance, and be at your beck 'n call. I may not have the strength of our large friend here, but as the lovely Embrianna has witness'd, I am not without talent." He turns and winks at Torgue, "Plus, I have this fine jug of butter apple crisp ale that is quite lonely." You all do see he is wearing fine elven chain shirt, along with exquisitely colorful leather pants and shirt. He carries at least two weapons openly a jewel encrusted rapier and dagger. To Bri's eye he has done quite well in the last week, or so, since he has been in port.
Sorrin listens to Chell. But also offers getting a room at the Green Dragon, closer to the group.
He (with whomever decided to join him) will first stop at The Run Aground.
Sorrin the freed captives are nervous and afraid, they lack money, and don't want to be walking on the docks at night that is how some of them ended up getting snatched. The Tide district can be dangerous. They see staying aboard the ship as safe until daylight, they can defend themselves and the gangplank, if necessary. Plus, they have an accomplished archer in Cireladwen helping out.
They are grateful for their freedom and the food that was given to them. There would have been some rations and fresh water, cask of grog, and quite a bit of raw meat on the ship to begin with.
Sorrin puts on the new armor, finds a spot and goes to sleep.
Astrianna sighs and shakes her head, and returns to studying the clock. "You are a very strange man, Sorrin ibn Sabbah. Your dedication to unchanging beliefs and stubbornness in the face of compromise will get you killed one day, and I hope whatever eternal reward you've been promised will be worth it." She states simply, and doesn't bring up the subject again.
After her studies are concluded the bard comes above deck, and finds the ex-prisoners still aboard. It seems clear they are bedding down in the ship for the night, and she doesn't seem to care. She sits with her back against the mast, quill in one hand and journal in other, writing an extensive amount of notes about what happened today while waiting for Cireladwen to return.
Bri giggles a bit. "It is true that Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, is not without talents. Though one of those talents is for getting himself into trouble. I still vividly recall your first meeting with our group when we were still serving aboard The Mother's Blessing. I can see that you are doing much better for yourself than you were that day. I am more than glad to have your company and wouldn't mind asking you a question or two once we are off a public street."
"Ah, but of course, trouble seems to find me, it was your group that fell through my cell and landed in my grateful lap." he retorts.
Thalios leads the group into Miss Molly's bathhouse. "We will require your gracious service this evening, Miss Molly. These fine folks will needs their clothes properly laundered, mended, and..." he glances over to torgue, deloused." He smiles, "Then we shall have some of your finest scented bath waters prepared and scented oils and lotions for rubbing. Spare no expense for I, Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai would be honored to pay their way."
"The fine lady and I shall adjourn to a private lounge for deep consultation." He grins devilishly as if a light bulb went of, "Unless of course, if you want this to be group event." His palm open wide to include Chell and Torgue. "But of course, milady, my l'ghthouse I shall be all tongue when I answer your call."
When Cireladwen returns to the deck, it is with an air of victory. She looks over the Tulita and elves warmly, but says very little to either. They do not need words right now.. poor, exhausted souls.
Her ears press back against her head as she takes to leaning against the main mast, searching momentarily into the sky before sweeping for a vision of her new kinsman.
Muinthel, at least, could benefit from words. There is no reason not to share with her a little bit of archery style this very eve, unless she has other plans.
A few hours after dark the docks are still busy with activity, much of it conducted in the shadows.
"Well, we can start off in a group event and then move for more privacy later if needed. You see, the first part of your body I have interest in are your ears. I'm sure no bit of news or gossip misses them."
Astrianna doesn't even notice Cireladwen's arrival, completely absorbed in her notebook. Four cool balls of light hover over her head to light the surrounding area.
After finding Astrianna and locating Sorrin, the elf gets a piece of sand in her left eye. It aggravates her, and she loses a couple of seconds trying to get it out, rather than paying attention.
Torgue endures Thalos' ribbing since he was paying and he wanted more of that ale. Well I dunno about our devoted Chell, but I'll take a nice quite soak, especially since you two plan on making up for lost time. He chuckles and shrugs off his pack. I'll be a bit, getting this ol tangle on my chin properly clean so you enjoy yourselves.
Torgue sips at his mug once more, finishing off the dregs. I'll have to pour you one of my home brews some time. Ol Clarissa knows how to boil the hops perfectly.
"Well, we can start off in a group event and then move for more privacy later if needed. You see, the first part of your body I have interest in are your ears. I'm sure no bit of news or gossip misses them."
"Ahhhhhh, want ever you desire, Thalios Dondrel, son of Mordekai, will try to oblige." His eyebrows wiggle, "Shall we get naked and talk." he motions to the bath attendants directing everyone to private undressing rooms where soft fresh robes await. "An evening at Miss Molly's has been known to work miracles."
To Torgue:
Thalios exits his changing room wearing fluffy robe which is mostly open in the front. He is not modest. He has his magical sack and he is carrying the jug of ale. He extends it to Torgue, "Enjoy with my compliments."
To your eyes and ears all is calm.
Bri heads into her own dressing room and then exits wearing a fluff robe. She carries her own magical sacks in her hand.
"I am very much looking forward to this. It was a rough day we've had."
"My ears and er...other parts burn with anticipation, how can I be of service?"
Once she removes the piece of debris as demurely as she can, Cireladwen looks at the corner of the deck Sorrin has chosen to curl up in. Before she interrupts Astrianna's research, she meanders over to him and removes a blanket that smells of the forest next to the cove.
She lays it over him in as stealthy a manner as she can, in case he had already drifted off.
She did not anticipate the squeaky boards, but tries to play it off as part of the plan.
"Well, I suppose I could start by asking if you've heard anything about the slave trade of Tulita going on in town. After my groups outing, we have come back with a ship, a slaver turned prisoner and a number of newly freed prisoners consisting of mostly Tulita and a few elves."
Tucking me in? He chuckles good naturedly. I'd say thank you, but you never taught me how. Accepting the blanket, he props himself up.
You have his complete attention. "Does the ship have name that you've acquired?" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his lips and starts to pull on his mustache. "Slavin' big business...Tulita are easy prey...little interest in finding them from the authorities, A certain gnoll carries on quite a bit of trade but there are others. I've even h'rd that a certain wealthy elder pays for their eviction." He tilts his head as he begins to pour some of the scented oils into the tub. "Lovely Embrianna you are snooping in a dangerous area."
He picks up another piping hot buck of water and pours it in the tub, then he liberally sprinkles rose and violet petals onto the water. He tests the water again, "your bath is ready."
"Muinthel told you the most common way, outside of Kyonin." Cireladwen murmurs, trying with all her might not to look like someone caught in a scandalous affair. "So I didn't think you my reply was necessary. It wasn't to ignore the question. 'Ni 'lassui' is the universal thanks, but in the land of my birth, we use 'hennaid'."
She looks down at the human, her expression unreadable not because Cireladwen is an enigmatic wonder, but because she really doesn't know where to go from here. She only planned up to the point where Sorrin is sleeping and she gets away.
"I was going to speak with Astrianna about sharing bow techniques, but she seems quite occupied with her notes. I didn't wish to disturb her right away."
"Nor you," the elf relents.
Astrianna sneezes quietly into her sleeve. She sniffs, and then continues writing.