"Thanks for the coin, mate," Jordan says, pocketing his earnings and making his way for the door. Stopping for a second, he turns to Kellerman and asks "By the by, ye wouldn't know where a man could go to find a green eyed beauty, would ye? I've heard some of the dockhands mention that the Black Baron has been bringing in some nice selections, as of late."
The slavemaster grins at Jordan. "Gold's already burning a hole in your pocket, eh? Green eyes, you say? Hmmm...I think there's a looker at Lass Call who's got green eyes. Got shipped over here from one of the brothels on the mainland a couple months back--common practice once they start getting a bit older. If you want the newest, the youngest, the primest cuts--you'll have to cross the harbor. The cathouses on the island get only third-rate ladies or second-hand ones who've gone out of favor or popularity in Port Peril proper."
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Culder carries on playing dice, blissfully unaware of Kellerman's disapproval.
"My thanks," Jordan comments, walking out. Waiting for Culder, he keeps pace with the big man. "I think we have a lead for some more coin," Jordan remarks. "Are you up for finding a lost dog?" he asks his companion.
Aghon rolls dice and pools his coppers at his feet.
Aghon throws them bones and prays for luck.
Ha! Yes. Aghon pulls the pot of seven coppers to the pool of coin by his side. I might have all your copper before the night's over captain.
Jarvis pockets his coin and heads back for his quarters. Making sure the door is as secure as he can, he flops down on the bed and promptly falls asleep.
Aghon strolls to the Rusty Drum for a hot breakfast, trying not to fall asleep in his eggs and ham. Then heads home to his straw bed, praying to Hanspur, and then promptly falling asleep, well fed, and satisified with a good night's work.
If/when the Captain and his crew show up at the Frog & Grog Tavern for their follow-up lunch meeting with Beliza, they find the woman isn't present. Korbrand is there, however, sitting stiffly at the same corner table as the previous day.
He informs the new arrivals that Beliza is busy meeting with officials and bigwigs of the island about all the previous day's events (the hag, the storm, and the tide of undead). He says it's likely the woman will be busy all day and will have to attend more meetings on the mainland tomorrow, but adds that he's sure she's putting in a good word for the group and mentioning their heroics during the trying previous day. He concludes by saying that Beliza gave him funds to pay for the group's lunch and that she'll get in touch with them again soon.
"Well, that could have been more profitable," Jordan remarks, chewing his food. Looking over the group, Jordan thinks about the boat. No way of knowing whose boat it is, or how many are aboard...and some magic might come in handy...
Pondering a second, the hooded man looks thoughtful, then speaks to the group. "Is anyone here interested in making some more money?" he asks, leaning forward.
"More money?!?" Culder asks sullenly, "wo'n't we have t'have made somethin' off all this fightin' fer it t'be more money? Best just call it 'money'"
"Ye know I be in though."
After the guard duty finally ends she collects her gold and returns to her hotel room to sleep and wait for the next day's meeting. She orders a hreaty lunch, all the effort of the previous day took a lot of energy out of here and she eats almost ravenously as she even slept past breakfast. "Do you mind if I join you?" she asks cheerfully, satisfied from the proper meal.
More gold sounds good
Jarvis sleeps through until the late morning, just making it into the Frog & Grog for their lunch meeting. When he sees Korbrand sitting alone, he relaxes a bit. Upon hearing that Beliza was picking up the tab for lunch, he orders a hearty plate and a few bottles of fortified wine.
More money? If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times, coin is coin. I can always use more! He says through a mouthful of food as he raises his mug of wine in salute to Jordan.
With the heroics of the previous day and night, exhaustion caused Aghon to sleep right through his lunch meeting. By the time he wakes up it is well into the afternoon. Having decided there's no sense running to the Frog & Grog so late after the intended meet up time, he decides to just hang out at the Rusty Drum, and see if Jordan has any other information for him.
Finding a corner table at the Rusty Drum common room, Aghon sits and orders a full dinner, and a tankard of ale from the barmaid, giving her a wink and a twopence copper for a tip.
Is John Banner working tonight, d'you know? He asks.
"I think we've the makings of a formidable crew here," Jordan says, "one that could carve a wide swathe through the seas. The Cap'n and I," he remarks, nodding towards Culder, "are in the market for a ship, but if we're going to have a ship, we need a crew we can trust, one that we know."
Lifting his cup and swallowing. "And so, friends, if you're interested, and ye've no desire to be land-locked for too long, meet me an' the Cap'n along the pier near Nobeard's Barber Shop, a few hours after dark."
"Aye, so far as I know," says the dark-haired server Kimmie. "He's out on an errand right now, though."
if lunch be the only pay I get, best make it count...
Culder orders a whole grouper, fried potatoes, a plate of cheese and sausage, and a loaf of soda bread. Plus three tankards of ale. When his food arrives, the fish alone looks like it could feed four men. Through the course of lunch he finishes off the massive fish, the pile of steaming potatoes, and all three frothy mugs. Then he dumps the cheese and sausage and the fresh loaf of bread into his sack.
He groans when he stands and his usually flat stomach is visually bulging. "Time t'get some sleep," he says while stretching, "see ye at the pier."
With that, the cap'n heads back to Hammocks and Ham-hocks to catch up on his sleep before meeting whoever shows up tonight...
"As ye say, Cap'n," Jordan comments. Touching his hand to his hood, he nods to Moina and Jarvis before leaving.
Heading out into the street, Jordan heads for the Lass Call. Upon entering, he pulls aside an attendant. "I hear ye got a green-eyed beauty a couple months ago from the mainland. Any chance she's available?"
The attendant points Jordan to the madam at the front desk, a lovely half-elven woman in a bright yellow silk dress of daring design, trimmed in black. The madam smiles at Jordan as he makes his request, asking if he has a preferred hair-color, race, or size in mind. She then nods and passes through a door flanked by yellow velvet curtains, returning a few minutes later with an attractive human whose green eyes seem a bit older than the rest of her features. Those eyes widen momentarily in recognition but then Felicia recovers and gives Jordan a coy smile and slightest of curtsies.
"Does she meet your needs and expectations?" the madam asks, her eyes meeting Jordan's.
"Aye, this is the exact type I've been looking for," Jordan remarks. "What'll it cost if I wish to take her for the evening?" he asks.
The half-elf's eyes widen a bit, as does her smile. "We usually charge by the half-hour or hour. Do you wish to spend the whole night here or take the fair Felicia out for a night on the town as your escort?"
"For a beauty like this, I might be interested in such an arrangement," Jordan responds, "But I suppose a trial run may be best, to make sure she can meet my needs. Your rates, then?" he asks.
"Six silver for half an hour; 1 gold for a full hour," the Calistrian says with a smile.
Pricey! A common brothel charges about half that amount, but this place looks like it's high-end...at least for Crescent Harbor island.
Pulling a coin out of his purse, Jordan holds it up, then tosses it towards the madam.
"An hour it is, then. And if she pleases me, perhaps a more...suitable arrangement can be made," he says with a wink.
The half-elf catches the coin with ease, displaying grace and dexterity beyond the norm. "I hope you enjoy our hospitality, good sir."
Felicia leads Jordan through another curtained portal and upstairs to a long hallway painted (You guessed it!) bright yellow with several doors on each side. The young woman knocks discretely at one and, hearing no response, opens the door and ushers Jordan inside.
"Jordan! Is it really you? How you've grown! How did you find me? Oh--you must be looking for your sister! I'm afraid I have some bad news...but not too bad, I hope."
"Cynthia and I were sold as slaves to the club called Port o' Catcalls over on the mainland shortly after we were abducted. We worked there for years as...well...I imagine you can guess since you found me in this place. She became a favorite of one of the Free Captains, a fellow by the name of Shelvan Morcombe--less of a lout than most...take that as you will. About a year ago, Captain Morcombe bought Cynthia from the owner of Catcalls and sailed off with her, allegedly to make her his wife. I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you."
"It's me," Jordan says, removing his hood. "Morcombe? Married?! But when? How?" With a groan, Jordan sits on a couch, head held in his hands. He sits for a moment, wondering at what should come next. He was nowhere near getting a ship! Think, think! the words rang in his head.
Standing, he put his hands on Felicia's shoulders. "If she's to be married to some pirate scum, then I've no time." Searching her face, he asks, "Are they treating you alright here? I came looking for you...well, all of you that got taken, of course, but the whole time I feared the worst."
"I'm afraid she's already married, if indeed that was Captain Morcombe's plan--as I said, he bought her about a year ago. As for me...well, they treat me about as well as can be expected, considering my profession. The Calistrians run all the brothels in the city. They're fair and keep us clean, healthy, and fed. As for the others taken from the village...they're scattered throughout the region by now. I think Julah Mayfield is still working at Port o' Catcalls. Others were shipped off to Sargavan plantations to serve as maids and house staff."
"I suppose it could've ended a lot worse," Jordan says, shaking his head. Over the next few minutes, he gives a brief but detailed account of his activities since that fateful night 5 years ago, and his involvement with his new companions. Nearing the end of his time, Jordan fastened his cloak on and stood to leave.
"I swear, Felicia, I'm going to make these pirates pay for what they've done," he vows, "And I swear I'll come back and get you out of this place and away from this. You, and everyone that was taken."[b] Looking at her, he suggests, [b]"And if you hear anything, about Morecombe or Castille, pass word along to John Banner at the Rusty Drum."
With that, he gives Felicia a hug and turns to leave.
There's currently only one ship moored at the docks Jordan leads the party to: the dark and silent Gale's Teeth. Two human sailors decked in leather armor and wearing cutlasses stand guard at the bottom of the gangplank , while lone shadowy figures can be seen patrolling the raised decks fore and aft ; it's difficult to make out details of these last two guards without drawing closer.
"What's say we go and introduce ourselves, Captain?" Jordan suggests with a grin, taking his bow off his shoulder. "I'm thinkin', once they realize what we're here for, they'll not want us around. We should hit'em hard and fast, and not give'em a chance to get set for us."
While saying this, Jordan pulls an arrow out and notches it onto his bowstring. "If you're ready, me and the miss start with the guards on the ship, while you three gents take care of the gangplank patrol."
Jarvis grins and pulls out his crossbow, nestling a bolt into the groove.
Feels good to be coming to a ship again! I like the idea of striking quickly. He says quietly through a smile as he braces the butt of the weapon against his shoulder, sighting in one of the gangplank guards.
Moina follows along behind Jordan, keeping an eye out for any kind of trouble.
Turning to the group, Jordan pointing and laying out a plan. Pushing Culder and Aghon a little further from the light, he whispers "Walk like some of those drowned bodies we saw earlier, head towards Moina." Sneaking back to Jarvis, he asks, "Can you make it sound like we got a group of zombies and such comin' down the pier? Nothin' too fancy, just some groans and moans, creaking of bones and such. Then run to the guards," Jordan says, pointing to the light, "and plead for their help." Pointing at Moina, Jordan continues, "After you hear the noise, count to three and scream like you're scared as anything."
Looking at everyone, Jordan smiles, "And I'll be off to the side, waiting to help jump whoever comes running. After that, we take the ship."
Jordan creeps to within about 50 feet of the moored ship before ducking expertly behind a small tool shed built into the dock; he should be able to either snipe from there or move even closer to have the two dock guards and the one on the forecastle within Point-Blank range.
Aghon taps his brain for any and all information that would make he and Culder's performance as undead more convincing.
He then relays that information to the Captain, and begins his shuffling slow approach towards Moina, doing his best to look as undead as possible.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. He groans as he shuffles forward.
Aye, I can muster some noise. But you guys will have to be loud to start, I'll make pretend I'm advancing ahead of them and cast on the run back this way. Make the shambling good! He replies to Jordan with a wide smile. Slipping the bolt from his crossbow back into its quiver, he slings the weapon across his back. Taking a moment to prepare himself, he makes his way back up the pier, sticking to shadows. With a nod to Jordan, he takes off down the dock, running like a mad man.
As he gets partway down the docks, he begins waving his arms over his head, trying to draw attention to himself.
The undead! They are storming the pier! HELP! He cries, trying to put a tremble of fear into his voice. As he skids to a halt in front of the guards, he bends over, hands on his knees, chest heaving.
Help....undead freaks.....death....IT WALKS! Jarvis points back up the pier, gesturing frantically.
I need help! Any armed man, woman, hell any child that can hold a fid....please!
With that, he spins on his heels, not waiting too long for an answer before he starts heading off up the pier. He plucks a small ball of wool from his cloak and mutters quickly and quietly as his fingers twiddle close to his chest.
Off in the distance, the sound of groaning and shuffling starts to get louder, seeming to approach from the mainland, creaking as best Jarvis can remember from the battle the other day.
Culder gets his anchor ready for swinging and does his best to shamble up the pier like the undead...
"Uuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."
He walk straight ahead crashing into and knocking over anything that happens to get in his way.
Moina lets out her most bloodcurdling scream and uses the best acting skills she doesn't have. "Help please sirs, I am but a helpless damsel. I would be forever grateful if you were to save me from these horrid creatures!"
Seeing Jarvis run forward and hearing the noise, Jordan decides to try and play a part in the deception. Using the shadows to move closer Jordan draws a bead on the lantern the guards on the dock are using to light their area and lets an arrow fly, hoping to knock the lantern down and startle the guards.
Jordan's arrow flies true, knocking over the lantern and scaring the crap out of the two guards at the dock end of the gangplank--their screams of surprise rival Moina's in decibels and pitch. When the lantern topples, it spills its oil and a small but growing fire begins to burn on the dock (treat as a torch [normal light out to 20 ft., dim light to 40 ft.] for this round, but it'll be growing after that unless dealt with).
The guards had turned their attention toward the zombie apocalypse and damsel in distress at the town end of the dock, but the fire right next to their ship suddenly takes priority. The guard on the forecastle says he'll sound the alarm and turns toward something that glistens in the light of the moon and blazing dock fire and is shaped suspiciously like a ship's bell.
; ;
; ;
;
Grrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... Aghon moans, continuing the ruse of being part of the undead horde, but he grips his trident tight and prepares to stab the pointy end into the first unfriendly that enters his range.
Moina waits to see if anyone gets closer before leaving her ruse. "Help!"
Jordan puts another bow on his arrow and aims up at the person about to ring the ship's bell.
"Stay low, lads, one th' blasted undead has a bow!" Jordan yells hoping the dim light and confusion keeps him from being seen.