The Gullywench is one of the last stops before the dock comes to an abrupt end and drops down to a beach made up of sharp rocks, bits of metal, and glass that glimmers in the torchlight. The potent scents washing over you when you go through the door are almost enough to make you consider turning back and choosing another tavern.
It doesn't help that most of the people inside the tavern leer at you, and you're pretty sure they're mocking you with sea-roughened accents as you pass.
"Oh, prod up the arse, eh? Straight backed, eyes forward, march, march."
"Bet she'd be still as dead ghost crabs, you get her in a creche."
You know, that kind of thing, followed with coarse laughter and a lot of coughing. It's pretty clear you're not going to find many well spoken or polite members of society in this tavern. You will, however, find a few 'craft pilots who know a thing or two about traveling Ryness Bay.
One such woman is eyeballing you as you approach the counter. The barkeep is talking with someone else at the other end of the bar, spots you, then ignores you.
"Don't get many Glaives in here." The woman says, throwing back a tiny glass full of a liquid the color of ink. You can't gauge height accurately since she's seated, but at a glance the woman seems small. Her copper hair is pulled into a tight tail that she's draped over her right shoulder, and you get a glimpse of what might be gills on the side of her throat. When she looks at you, you notice her pupils are completely blown, though you can still see a little bit of blue in a halo around them. Maybe it was something more than alcohol she just downed a shot of.
Looking after Minerva as she enters the Gullywench Kaile shakes his head, guessing whats to be found inside. Turning to Gustav he voices his opinion matter of factely:
You're probably right about the trouble or cost of any numenera route, but it can't hurt to ask around a bit. Its a long way and we should probably know all the routes available to us.
Shrugging he adds with a bit of a wry smile, Besides we may be able to take the slow way there, but might not have that luxury on way on the way back...if you catch my meaning. If that's the case knowing the numenera route might come in handy.
Going to stand near Darcheulio he finishes, Once we're all settled we can meet back down here, like you said, and trade notes.
Alright Kaile, how about you go see what you can find with Darcheulio. A fast way back would be a handy trick to have up our sleeve.
Harbill looks at the Gullywench and his face twitches into what can only be called a 'rictus grin'. He glances at Snow and Yurt and shrugs.
I'm willing to lay shins against nums that our upright companion is going to be where the fun is. Care to see who she manages to rub the wrong way?
With that, Harbill checks that his blades are loose in their sheaths and heads into the Gullywench.
The copper haired captain watches Harbill approach after Minerva, and salutes with her empty shot glass. The hand is steady but her eyes appear to be vibrating slightly in their sockets. In a smooth motion, she brings the glass down to the counter and taps it twice. The bartender moves towards her to take the glass.
"Another, Prauss?"
The woman nods her head. The bartender pours something under the counter, out of sight, and places the refilled shot glass before her. He nods once, then returns to the customers at the other end of the bar. All without acknowledging you.
"You'll need to..." the woman, pauses and stares into the glass as though transfixed. "Be a little more aggressive if you want a drink." She finishes the sentence as though there was no long pause in the middle of it, then looks up at you.
Choosing to remain on the docks, but declining to stray to the rowdier end of it, you make your way through the doors of Crafty Raster's. The crowd here is mixed, but everyone seems to be keeping their voices down to a much more pleasant level than what you heard coming out of the Gullywench.
You easily spot a group of people who are very likely to be captains and pilots of 'craft; a few still in uniform, and all have an aura of casual authority.
At another table, a man sits alone, smoking a pipe and watching the crowd around him.
At yet another, two women are in deep discussion over a shared plate of fried vegetables. These women are only notable because they are very obviously mutants; one has only smooth skin where her eyes should be, and the other appears to have mandibles on either side of a perfectly normal and lipsticked mouth.
The air is thick with the scent of cooking meat and sweet smoke, but rather than clashing, the two smells entwine perfectly. It's the kind of smell that begs you to sit down and enjoy a few hours leisurely.
No one stops you to chat, but no one is giving you the evil eye, either.
Harbill looks around the assembled group of ruffians, pulls a chair that looks like it was here since before the 8th world, stands on it and says loudly, I'm looking to get passage to Keford or ports close to. Should be myself and four others. Payment can be in trade or shins. Who's got the deck space or needs a few strong arms?
Harbill has the eyes of everyone in the room. It's silent but for the squeak of a chair moving against the floor, and someone coughing, thickly and without covering their mouth.
One man stands up; he's on the under-fed side of lean, but has muscles that stand out like cords on his arms. He looks over the mechanical man as though making a decision, and then gets up on his own chair.
"I'd like a thick, juicy ravage bear haunch to cook up."
Another man follows suit, standing on his own chair.
"I want a numenera that I can f#+*, so I don't have to hear it talk or pay it after I'm done!" The crowd cheers and jeers the man after that declaration. A woman stands on her chair.
"I want a numenera that takes Jakken's mouth off his ugly face!" She directs this at the man who just spoke. More cheers, and a helpful call of "it's called a knife, woman!" from the back of the room.
It doesn't take long before most of the crowd is standing in their chairs, yelling about all the things they want. A couple of mugs of alcohol are spilled on the floor, and at least one person was much too drunk to have been standing on his chair in the first place, and ends up in a heap on the floor.
"That's how you do it." The copper haired woman says dryly.
Minerva looks around aghast at the tavern crowd. She slams her fist on the bar top. The crowd stops and looks at her. She moves towards Harbill and pulls up another chair and stands besides him. Listen! I beseech you all for a moment to take heed at what my camarade has asked. Please set aside your beastful retorts and act as a noble person. We only want your insightful knowledge to aid us in a quest! Minverva looks around the room. Her fingers twitch slightly.
... and the crowd goes wild.
They have not only not given up their retorts, the retorts are much louder and baser now. In fact, a few in the crowd are actually making animal noises. If you look back at the bartender, he's got a strangely smug smile on his face. It looks like you both have offered up free entertainment for the evening, and he didn't have to drop a shin for it.
In the ruckus, you don't notice the woman at the bar slip away until you see the unoccupied stool and again-emptied shot glass left on the counter.
Harbill gives Minerva a sidelong glance, holds his arms up wide to the crowd, and gives a deep mechanical laugh followed by, Thank you for you letting us be your entertainment for the evening! Please, tip your barkeep and serving folk. Enjoy your night folks!
He hops down from his chair, tugs Minerva's arm for her to follow, and heads outside looking for the copper-haired lady.
Kaile moves to the bar and begins to make small talk with the keep and maids as they go to and fro. After a short while he begins to ask questions about quick travel through Numenera. Using the information Darcheulio shared he keeps his questions what ifs and wouldn't that be nice. All the while, during the whole affair he watches for any signs of that anyone knows what he's talking about.
Most of the crowd are still hooting and hollering, but a few of them clap you on the back when you pass and try to press mugs of questionable liquid into your hands. One last look backwards at the barkeeper earns you a wink. Whatever that may mean.
By the time you get outside, it's very easy to spot the copper haired woman. She's only wandered maybe twenty feet down the dock, towards the avenue on which you arrived, where she's stopped and staring out at the water as though hypnotized.
"The dark is so deep, here."
While Kaile chats up the patrons and staff, he happens to glance over at the pipe-smoker, who is watching him intently. No one at the bar you speak to has heard more than you; there are rumors of numenera that allowed for travel over long distances, but what would they know about such things? What's wrong with traveling by aneen, or walking?
The pipe smoker gestures you over, and even clears a bit of space on the table by rolling up a few pieces of parchment and tucking them away in his voluminous cloak.
Darcheulio walks up to the captains table nonchalantly and asks them politely about travel options to Kordech. He mentions that he heard rumors about a numenera that was used for traveling and was seeing if they knew anything about it. If they don't, then Darcheulio would inquire about if they have any ships or caravans heading toward Kordech that they might be able to use. Darcheulio notes that his party is full of able-bodied persons that are more than willing to help out for free passage.
Minerva is stunned by the crowd's reaction and allows herself to be pulled out of the tavern by Harbill.
Minerva and Harbill catch up to the copper haired woman. The woman's words pull at Minerva's memories.
Harbill steps closer to the copper haired woman, a respectable distance from her, and looks into the water as well.
I don't mean to interrupt, but you wouldn't happen to know of any ships looking to take on passengers that are heading to Keford? You were the only one of that crowd that wasn't lost in their cups and revelry. My companions and I can work or pay for our passage.
"We h'aint heard nothin' worth tellin' about numenera what travels you." One of the captains says through a mouthful of food.
"Safer to travel by sea, anyway." Another says amicably. He's a solidly built man, a scar cut across his jaw and through his lower lip that terminates in an ugly knot of tissue on his cheek. Like maybe he caught a fish hook the wrong way at some point in his past.
The man nudges a chair away from his table, silently offering the place to Darcheulio. "Just so happens I'm heading southwise in a day or two, all the way down to Keford. Got an errand to run on the way down that you and yours may be helpful with."
The woman turns around to face Minerva and Harbill, a dreamy smile on her face. "I'm not going anywhere tonight, thank you." She pauses, and you notice her pupils are still blown wide as she looks you both over. "I was a little lost in my cup, let us be honest." She teases. Then she nods as if agreeing with something you didn't actually say. "My crew and I just returned from there, which is why..." she gestures at the tavern they just exited.
"None in there worth your time. I know a pilot, goes by Adelard, he's usually in Raster's up the docks." She swings her gaze back out to the sea. "If you can wait a few days, I'll be headed back down that way." She taps her nose. "No Dropping on deck, don't worry."
Minerva looks to Harbill. Let's go find this Adelard. He may be just the sort we are looking for.
She looks to the copper haired woman and makes a stiff bow. Thank you for your aid. I do not know if we can wait for you to take us. We need to start this quest as soon as possible. May whatever god or gods you pray to see this moment of kindness. Minerva runs off in direction of Raster's.
Harbill nods to Minerva and, in parting, says to the copper haired woman, Where might we find you if Adelard isn't open to our request? And what is your name?
She looks oddly pleased to have been asked her name.
"My name is Pr... Prauss Bellarim. No where to call home here, but you'd find me there." When she says "there", she's jerking her thumb at the ramshackle looking building behind her, next to the Gullywench. No lights are on inside it, it only just looks like it may be an inn. Or possibly a house that belongs to someone who occasionally rents rooms. "Or back in the Wench. They're friendly when they know you. Or when you entertain them." She grins, and her teeth are too-white considering the drinks she had in the tavern.
Greetings Prauss Bellarim. May we meet again. Gustav is the name.
With that, Harbill heads off after Minerva.
Prauss Bellarim waves once, then turns her attention back to the sea. "And you, Gustav." She says quietly. Serenely.
When you both enter the building, you notice Kaile is chatting up people near the bar, but that there's a man clearing space at a table and gesturing that the Jack should sit with him.
You also see Darcheulio, who's at a table filled with people who are very obviously captains and pilots of watercraft.
Harbill steps over to stand beside Kaile and he nods to the bar tender. Kaile, it looks like we may be able to find a berth with a pilot by the name of Adelard. Have you or Darcheulio had any luck so far?
Harbill surveys the crowd for anyone who seems to be taking an unhealthy interest in their group.
As Harbill looks around the room, he catches the eye of the man sitting at a table alone who initially waved Kaile over. He's definitely taking an interest in your group.
Kaile raises his drink in welcome to Gustav and nods over to the man at the table.
I've asked around a bit and most know no more than what our companion already shared. That man over there however seems to have taken an interest in our conversations....and judging by the mess on his table, I'd bet hes of the right sort. Lets go see if he has any clues.
Standing Kaile gestures for Gustav to follow and makes his way over to the mans table.
Smiling he politely speaks, Well met friend. My companions and I are interested in the stories we've heard of waygate like numenera...you wouldn't by chance have heard of such a thing would you?
The man looks excited as he continues to pull various papers and rolled up parchments into his cloak. You're not actually sure how he fits it all in there, either.
"No. I don't know a thing about such a numenera." His voice is high for his stature, there's also the barest hint of a lisp in his speech, making 'such' closer to 'thutch'.
He beams up at the two of you. "But! I do know a man who could help you. He's been working on that project for ages. We could go there! Right now!"
Harbill's face creaks ever so slightly as his right eyebrow slowly moves up on his forehead. His eyes snap from the unending stream of documents being ejected onto the table, to the face of the excited fellow, and to his belt all in rapid fire.
"It's just getting late and I'm sure he would love to talk to you before he sleeps, and I'm not so sure he would want to talk to you after he sleeps. We can wait until tomorrow, but why wait?"
He's halfway to standing and all of the documents are now shoved safely into his robes.
Harbill glances at the others around the table and gives a slight shrug.
Alright, we can go see your 'friend'.
The man takes off from his table; it's not quite a run, but he's setting a brisk pace. Anyone who follows Harbill and the strange, robed man, find themselves following him to the front of a rather nice house a few blocks from the docks.
The mystery man knocks on the door a few times, hardly waiting before pushing the door open and calling "Gren?"[/b] into the darkness. You notice a light on in the back of the house, so someone is probably still awake. If you follow the man further, he leads you through a very tidy home. You can't make out much, as the only light on seems to be in the very back room.
When you reach the lit room, you see it's a bedroom, and there's a very grumpy looking man in a very comfortable looking sleep-robes standing next to his bed, tapping his foot.
"Couldn't come out to meet us, eh, Gren? No trouble! I've brought some friends!" The man says, gesturing towards you. Once he moves aside, you see that the men are identical twins.
"It's the middle of the night, Lem. Surely this could have waited?"
"You're still awake! Besides, these fine folk are looking for numenera that transports!"
At this, Gren appears much more interested in his unexpected guests.
"Tell me more." Gren suggests to Harbill.
Harbill eases back from the tense stance he had held since they had entered the residence. Taking in the fine fixtures, the loose items of probable and portable value, and the mixture of gizmos and various trinkets, Harbill makes a mental note of this place as one to return to once this little adventure is over.
Harbill bows a short and whirring bow and says, A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gren. We are looking for passage Southerly and your friend Lem here indicated you might have some faster method than taking a skiff down the shoreline. What can you tell us about a traveling numenera?