Sargrad grunts at Rilka. "Aye, I'll get ye a cup of coffee. Don't grow the beans here, but we brew it fresh every mornin'."
With five minutes left the party finishes up their meals and slides appropriate coinage across the bar. As Dalton gets up to leave Sargrad grabs him by the arm, then puts a bag in front of him. "Here's that last finger. I know a merchant when I see one, keep me in mind if yer ever in town or talking 'bout the town." He nods and goes back to serving drinks. Inside the bag Dalton finds another breakfast, wrapped to go.
The docks are bustling, even at this early hour, and it takes a minute to shove to the end of the docks. As the party looks around they hear a shout. "Oi, Gearsmith, right?" A dwarf sailor beckons the party over. "Ye'll be with us. We're taking a shipment to Balgradash and have tha room ta fit ye on board. Come on then, gotta meet the captain an' such." He turns and leads the party aboard a trade ship with white and red sails. At the helm is dwarf shouting orders to half a dozen dwarven sailors. He has numerous tattoos and piercings, with jewelry of various quality in his dark hair and weathered skin. He breaths out three rings of smoke to his left with his pipe shifted to the right side of his mouth, and his eye catches the party. He nimbly leaps down to the lower deck and moves over.
"Welcome aboard the Burning Pearl. I'm captain Karkrael, and on this ship my word is law. You do what I say, when I say it. If you can't deal with that, find another boat. If you b%+&@ and moan about it when we're out at sea, well I hope you can bloody swim. Understood?" He arcs a brow and waits for responses.
"Good morning, Captain. I am Ianna, promised to Bolka, and this is my brother Toramin and his friends." Ianna beams.
"It is a honor to be on such a lovely ship. We will be model passengers, you have my word as a priestess. While Bjorkus, here, is something of a sailor, I've never been on a boat. I will do my best to keep out from underfoot, even as I marvel at the beauty of your ship and the skill of your crew."
The young priestess directs her charm at the gruff captain.
He's got a keen mind for business. Dalton tipped the man an extra two copper. "Appreciated. It'll be a long trip."
In actuality, Dalton would've eaten it right there, but it was already wrapped...
*******
Nodding in assent with Ianna, Dalton found it easier to hide his anxiety by piggybacking on her comment. "Her speech speaks for us both." Ugh ... it'll be no smoother than the rails, I'm guessing...
Bjorkus can't help but chuckle at Rilka's question. "Neither I'm afraid. Just balled up real tight and deep fried."
He nods in agreement with Ianna's introduction and offers Karkrael a meaty handshake. The gesture reminds him of Axen, the Storm's veteran Boatswain. He was an ugly bastard but had some of the most solid sea legs the bull had ever seen on a man. 'He had a mean right hook too', Bjorkus muses.
"You and the Pearl feel free to take your time gettin' us to Balgradash", Bjorkus rumbles in jest. "It's been far too soddin' long since I've been on the sea."
Karkrael gives a grimy grin at Ianna. "Let it never be said that flattery gets ye nowhere. Keep that up and ye might get to stay in the captain's quarters." He grunts and nods at Dalton, but narrows his eyes at Bjorkus. "A seaman, eh? And what was it you used to do?"
"I was the captain of my own ship once", Bjorkus admits with a mix of pride and sadness. "I'd offer to lend a hand with the Pearl but it looks like you've got that covered."
Ianna flickers her eyes in a demure fashion, but her smile is still sweet.
"I would never put you out captain, your smile is gift enough."
"Didn't answer my question." He growls, glaring at Bjorkus.
"We did a deal of tradin' and a deal of explorin'. Some would call us privateers..." Bjorkus explains somewhat subtly while giving the dwarf a knowing glance. "But you've got nothin' to worry 'bout with me. I'm just a passenger passin' through nowadays. One that's lookin' forward to feeling a ship buck under his hooves again."
Karkrael stares at Bjorkus a moment, then draws on his pipe and lets it snake out through his nose. "Alright than." He goes up back up to the front of the boat, waving the party on board. "We got a schedule to keep, let's get those sails ready you dogs! If we miss the tide you're pulling her out yerselves!"
Dalton walked in-deck with Bjorkus. "How difficult is it to pilot one of these ships? I imagine it must take some training, for although the principle seems simple, skilled captains are few, judging by their rates."
"It looks easy but it takes a skilled and steady hand alright. A ship looks like this delicate thing, floatin' across the water like a dainty little cloud but she's still a beast of wood and iron. If you're not careful it's easy to snap a mast or a break rudder. I've seen plenty of 'em busted in my time - hell I've broken a few myself. Back on the Storm my mate was pilot most of the time", Bjorkus explains.
”Oh, they don’t sound like real cakes at all,” Rilka says as Bjorkus answers her question about fishcakes. Her tone sounds a bit disappointed. She inhales the aroma from the hot coffee, holding it right under her nose. ”Well, this is a treat.”
Rilka nods with a shrug as Karkrael dictates the conditions of their journey. That’s probably what any sea captain would say. Appropriate and fair enough. Hopefully he doesn’t start calling his crew or us ‘ladies.’ Impressive jewelry.
”Swimming’s one of the last things I want, Captain Karkrael, so I’ll be on my best behavior. Mind me asking why you named your ship the Burned Pearl?” she steps closer for a better glance at his jewelry, looking to see if he favors pearls. ”Besides not complaining, and doing what you say when you say, do you have any more expectations of us?”
Karkrael does have a few pearls on him, but he doesn't seem to particularly favor them over any other type of jewelry. He gives a grin at Rilka's question, putting a weathered hand on her shoulder. "Now that's a story, a short one but a good one. I was bringin' a merchant and a box o' his cargo overseas, and he wouldn't tell me what was in tha damn box. I didn't really care at the time either. When we were an hours journey from shore we were attacked by pirates, which is way closer to port cities than they normally attack. We set a course strait fer the city and they eventually turned tail an' ran, but not before putting an arrow through that merchant's neck and setting me whole ship on fire. The ship burnt to pieces and we barely got the burning debris to the docks before we capsized. But I kept me eye on that box, knowing there was something worth some money in there. Wouldn't ye know it was full of the highest quality pearls! Things don't burn easy so they were barely damaged at all. I bought myself a nicer ship, and I put black and white sails on her and named her the Burned Pearl so I always remember the good fortune that got me her."
The ropes start being untied from the docks as Karkrael pulls at his beard and considers Rilka's next question. "Can't come up with a rule for every little thing, but I'd say a good thing to avoid is stealin' or stillin' anybody's throat." He grumbles.
Bjorkus catches sight of the captain's fearful reaction but takes it in stride. His kind were predators afterall and ships Iike the Pearl were their prey. He does smirk at the notion that, however indirectly, the dwarf owed his good fortune to a pirate's stray arrow but the bull leaves it to Karkrael's audience to make that connection.
Rilka notices the captain's glance but let's it pass without remark. "It's a good story and a good lesson about fortune." She looks at the sails and then the sky, ”Well, here’s hoping this is a quiet journey. Fair weather and all.
"No stealing or slitting throats. Good rules to live by whether on shore or ship.”
The trip is fairly close to the shoreline and largely uneventful. The most exciting part is when a sudden onslaught of wind nearly pushed the Burned Pearl into a corral reef, but Karkrael had the sailors ride the wind out and go around it.
It's getting past lunchtime and stomachs are rumbling when Balgradash comes into view. It's a lively, ramshackle town full of shanties and slanting wooden constructions. It's something out of a child's dreams and a carpenter's nightmares.
Karkrael starts shouting out orders to get the Burned Pearl docked, sparing a moment to bark at the party. "Alright, here's where you lads get off." He then turns back to his crew, that summing up his farewells.
The sight of ramshackle Balgradash fills Bjorkus's belly with excitement. That excitement grows into a tight ball when the party departs the Burned Pearl and steps out onto the docks. He gives Karkrael a nod of gratitude and gestures towards one of the larger constructions.
"First thing we should do is check in with Flenn at the Silver Minnow. He'll get a us a bite to eat and fill us in on what's been goin' one 'round here", Bjorkus explains. "When we get there drop your weapons in the bin. He's real serious 'bout that rule."
Dalton was not a fan of the rickety shanties, but they were a mark above the squall on the ship. "These structures could collapse with a hard stare. They must not get many storms here... or maybe they like to remodel."
Bjorkus rumbles with laughter at Dalton's concerns.
"I've seen a few come down in a brawl but they're sturdy enough. The Minnow's been standing for years and that place has been through Hell a couple of times. If you're lookin' to unload some of your wares there's a jeweler in town I trust - Greg. He'd be interested in your gemcraft."
Bjorkus leads the party across rickety, slippery docks full of bustling people. People are shoving about, not even giving a glance when one of them shoulders into somebody else. Dock urchins run around but seem to generally avoid the party. A number of slimy sailors and pirates whistle at Rilka and Ianna and more than once they hear a pretty inappropriate line directed at them.
Then the party arrives at the Silver Minnow, a shanty that's bigger and a little better built than most of the surrounding ones. Huge lengths of wood criss-cross underneath it and seem to be the sole support for the building. Pushing inside the Silver Minnow shows a fairly crowded room with numerous decorations. All sorts of fishing and boating equipment hangs from the walls and ceiling, and between the two dozen people there must be at least thirty weapons. Suspicious looks and harsh glares follow the party as they walk in. There are mostly humans, but also about half a dozen half orcs and a spattering of other races, including a pair of people who look half-fish.
"Look at that big soddin' bastard! I swear you get uglier every time you come back!" A tall, lanky human with short hair and a large beard grins from behind the bar. He's wiping down the bar with a rag held by his very long fingers as he waves the group over. He looks at the rest of the party. "And who's this motley crew?" He says with a smile.
"And that beard just gets mangier", Bjorkus fires back with a laugh while dropping Tyrantbreaker in the weapons bin.
"They're friends", he explains simply. "Toramin, Ianna, Rilka, and Dalton. They're here to help me take the Storm back. I don't suppose she's tied down at the docks now?"
Flenn eyes the rest of the party after Bjorkus drops his weapon with the others. "Same rule goes for everybody. No weapons, no fighting." He looks back to Bjorkus, eyes glancing around at the two dozen people nearby. "Can't say I know much about her whereabouts, not something I keep up with."
As Toramin lays Talev's Legacy respectfully into the bin, Ianna asks,
"Brother, are you not supposed to meet allies here?"
"Yes, that most untrustworthy man said that he would know when we arrived on the docks, arrange for Bjorkus' ship to have returned to port to coincide with our arrival, and meet us with strong allies. I know the allies to be strong, but how will he know that we have arrived? Or, how will have manipulated events so that the ship will be here even though we ourselves did not know when we would arrive. I do not know what will be more annoying. Him succeeding or failing to do all that."
Between the captain and the barkeep, Dalton got the feeling Bjorkus's name and job might be better kept to themselves; he stayed quiet.
"In the meantime we could use drinks and whatever slop you got. Anything goin' on 'round town I should know 'bout?"
"Oi, I'll get you something for your bellies." He goes into the back room for a minute then reemerges. "Should be out in a few minutes." He scratches at his beard and thinks about the question. "Trade's gotten a lot better since Yenrick got into the picture. People don't feel so starved anymore. But there's a scramble for power now in the east, some even say a new pirate lord is brewing, but nobody says which one is gonna be replaced."
"That's news alright and it smells like trouble", Bjorkus replies with genuine interest. "Last I heard all the Lords were still hale and hearty. I can't imagine one of 'em steppin' down by choice."
"You seen Seilvana around town? The girl with the fool brother that got himself into debt with Barry?"
"Hearty is a bit of a stretch for that group of bastards." He shakes his head. "Can't say I have. Last I heard she was heading to the far south." He turns to the party. "Ah but I'm neglecting my newest patrons. Name's Flenn Hammus, call me Flenn or Strongut. Tell me, what brings you to Balgradash and what brings you to the Silver Minnow? Where'd this big sod pick you lot up anyways?"
Rilka ignores the whistles and comments. Men. They want a reaction. Relax. Ignore it. Their words are wind. Dross not worthy to be examined.
In the Silver Minnow, Rilka looks skeptically at the bin for weapons. ”Who’s going to stop someone from taking our weapons?” she asks placing her dagger, rapier, and sling-staff in the bin. Her pistol rests in her hand for a few long moments before she finally leaves it. She chuckles to herself, retrieving the pen from her bag and rests it atop her pistol. ”Well that’s done.”
She joins the others, listening to Bjorkus and Flenn Hammus catch-up. ”Pleased to meet you Flenn. Call me Rilka. I was told young men should go to sea. If it’s good enough advice for them, why not me?”
Rilka notices that Toramin hasn't moved more than a few feet from the weapons. He seems to be of similar mind.
”Who’s going to stop someone from taking our weapons?”
"Me." He says simply. "Haven't had a weapon stolen for almost ten years now. In the case that it happens, I'll fully reimburse you for the cost of the weapon."
He considers Rilka's advice question for a moment while he absentmindedly cleans a spotless mug. "People give that advice to stupid, strong boys so they can make a living and contribute. The only reason I'd give you that advice is if you wanted to become a captain, and that's not a question of necessity, that's a question of passion."
~~~
Rilka and Toramin notice there are several interested glances when the large and fancy weapons are dropped into the box, but their looks linger for no more than a second or two.
Ianna does her best to not to roll her eyes at her brother's mistrust. This Heff character cannot be so bad, all have something to love within them.
She makes her way over to the bar to sit next to Rilka. "If you do go to sea, I would suggest bringing a good moisturizer. All that salt and wind? I know I did. Just because my brother looks like a rock doesn't mean I have to look the same."
"Or just be as hairy as a rug." Flenn says, grinning at Bjorkus. He sets down the large, spotless mug as somebody on the other end of the bar calls for another round. As he does a young lad who looks in his late teens comes out with three plates, then back out with another two, setting them in front of the party. It's some sort of grilled fish that's short and wide, and next to it are sides of a multicolored rice and diced potatoes.
Bjorkus chuckles at their host's comment and digs into his meal. He pauses after a couple of bites and casually glances at the missive that seems to have made its way into his hand.
Didn't hear it from me.
Bjorkus pitches the note into the hearth and quietly finishes his food. A few minutes later he belches in approval of the meal and climbs to his hooves. Catching Flenn's eye he gives the innkeeper a nod of appreciation and drops enough silver on the table to cover the party's food and drink.
"Once you're all done we should go for a walk. There's a lot more town to see."
With the bellies filled, Bjorkus leads the party through Balgradash's narrow filthy streets back toward the docks. The bull turns out to be a poor guide through most of the trip, explaining nothing of the passing structures and business save the occasional grunt and gesture. He stops when they reach the fish markets just shy of the water's edge. This late in the day they were mostly empty but there was still a few unlucky fishermen haggling loudly with potential customers for their morning-old wares.
"This is as good as it's gunna get", he rumbles low. "Try to keep your voices down. The roofs tend to have eyes 'round here."
"The message I got in the Minnow said the Storm's supposed to arrive 'Tonight, at the tide'. The way it was delivered makes me think we've got a tail."
One of the poor fisherman gives up the info for a few coins. The late night tide is coming in a bit after midnight, so in just under 12 hours.
"The tide's still a few hours out", Bjorkus explains. "In the meantime we should lay low. We start by visiting that jeweler I was tellin' you about."