Phaedra's relation of her difficulties in society because of her 'Intermediary' status bring a grim glower to Eaton's face. His violet eyes glitter dangerously and he murmers softly, dangerously "You shan't worry about that ever again in polite company, Miss Phaedra. You've been a gentler lady than most of the sows I've had the pleasure of sharing company with through wedding or coronation, and at my side you'll rightly be respected. Magnimar, New Stetven, or Egoria. You may be common born, both of you..." he nods to both Edgar and Emelia, and spears his potato, gesturing to both of them in turn "But you're most uncommon fellows. And I mean fellows. I would not have survived that pit had it not been for quick thinking, quick hands, and an uncannily gentle touch..." He hesitates a moment, then gestures to Tellar as well "And the good will of Gozreh, of course! ... No man... no Lord can deny your wit and your value. My father was a commoner, you know, before he married my mother? Such exceptional people as you all break the mold quite cleanly. And your gifts... Miss Phaedra..." he shakes his head and twirls the potato in a little circle "Just about everyone is ignorant about your talents. Our... talents..."
He pops the long cold potato into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, waving Edgar down for a second while he finishes off the morsel "I'll have to yield to you when it comes to Riddleport politics, Mister Arrowni. I've never been there, and I've known a total of two pirates for more than ten minutes in my entire life. I'm sure I can fake the part though. We'll gussy up, flash the part, dress our women like real b~@#&es of the sea... The kind that leave a wake of severed fingers in their wake. That'll keep the ruffians hands to themselves. Nothing guards the city gates like severed heads, eh? Think I can pull off the part of a posh nobby captain?"
His eyes flicking to Edgar now and then, but never really leaving the horizon, Donnell just shrugs and answers, "I was born into it, I suppose. My family hails from Galt originally, the story even goes that my great grandparents were forebears of the first revolution. But that country's mood changes more than the wind, and my grandfather valued his neck, and that of his children." He lets out a long sigh, lightly licking the salt from his lips, "He and his family fled to Varisia and with nowhere else to turn and babes to feed, Gramp turned to piracy. I suppose it's always been my way. But as my dad said, just because I'm not a noble doesn't mean I need to be stupid. He was strict with my studies."
On Edgar's question of Riddleport, the man answers, "You'll find sailors in just about any bar. The Publican house for the most... honest, Zincher's Arena for the toughest and meanest and the Gold Goblin for the ones least likely to ask any questions. As for the Rogue, I doubt anyone would recognize her, unless you flew The Kraken's Flag."
Seeing the look that Edgar gives him, Donnell lets out a long and somewhat worried sigh, as if he fears speaking of it at all, "The Rogue isn't just a pirate ship sir. She belongs to a... well a society of sorts, I suppose you could call it, called the Kraken. They're whispered and feared of, but no one, not even us knows much of them. Whoever leads them keeps us mostly seperated. Captain Cale only had regular contact with Captain Iago, and the most of our ships I've seen in one place is about half a dozen. But I know whenever we flew that flag in a port to another ship, it was either a fight to the death, or we were treated as kings."
"Magnimar is closer to a week than a day," Emilia serves herself a plate of beef and potatoes, "Thank you Phaedra," and sits down at the table, "And as Edgar says, without a full crew attempting the trek could be suicide. And I'm well aware that Riddleport holds it's dangers. The difference is that the dangers in Magnimar have already tried to kill us." She tosses the letter than Phaedra and Eaton found earlier into the center of the table. "Eriden has made way for Magnimar to secure his claim to our family's holdings and then makes for Absalom. I intend to cut him off before he ever leaves the City of Statues. But to do that we need to be prepared. We need a crew that can handle themselves in a fight, and we need supplies." At this point she looks directly to Eaton, "Lord Starse your family is quite adept and mercantile dealings. I will leave it to you to secure the appropriate connections to supply and arm us as we need."
"While it is true my mother and I were not thought well of due to our talents in the arcane, that isn't why I had to leave. I don't really want to discuss it, but it's better for you to hear it now from me rather than later from a guardsman attempting to arrest me if we choose to return to Magnimar someday."
Staring intently at her plate, emerald eyes bright with unshed tears, Phaedra continues. "According to the guardsmen who questioned my mother as to where I was at, I am wanted for attacking the son of a rather important city official with a dagger while he was walking in the woods and he has two witnesses to back up his version of what happened. I decided that I had no chance of getting anyone to believe my side, so I fled."
"What can you tell me of Oscar? Is he someone dependable?"
"According to Donell, er, the Pirate that was at the helm, there are a few avenues for us to get a crew. The Publican house for the most honest, Zincher's Arena for the toughest and meanest and the Gold Goblin for the ones least likely to ask any questions. I guess the ship here doesn't have much of a reputation, unless we fly The Kraken's Flag. Does anyone have any knowledge on the Kraken's flag?"
"I think we should get a mix of crew, and as we are planning to attack Eredin, I say we stock pile more crew than we need for when we engage in a fight. We need to make sure we have enough to pay these men, or if we mascaraed as pirates, they all would get a share of the booty. I'd rather not go as pirates, but it might be what we need to do to get under the radar."
"Also, just so you all know. Back in the pirate hide out, I told the two pirates that when we get to Riddleport that they are free to go. I'd like to keep my word. Donell seems to have a good head on his shoulders, and I plan to ask if he would like to continue on, the other, Oscar, I'm not to sure about yet."
Edgar raises and eyebrow when Phaedra explains her tale. "Would it be too much to ask your side of the story? You don't seem the mugger type Miss Phaedra."
With a sigh Phaedra explains: "The moon had just risen and I was on my way out of the city to gather an herb that only blooms at night. The three young men were leaving from a tavern and were completely drunk, though they still managed to notice me and one even recognized me from my mother's store. I continued on out of the city, not even realizing they had followed me until the one came up behind me and grabbed ahold of my wrist. He began asking some very inappropriate questions regarding the "unnatural desires of witches" and I told him to let go and leave me be. I thought about hexing him to sleep, but wasn't sure what his two friends would have done about that, so I just turned around and tried to pull my wrist from his grip as I tried to walk away. He must have been too drunk to pay attention to his own strength and when he pulled me back I first heard and then felt my wrist snap. By then I couldn't even think to cast so I slashed at him with the knife I used to cut herbs with and he let go in surprise I ran away. The idiots were probably too drunk to even remember what really happened."
"...That or they were out for revenge. I'm sorry to hear that Phaedra. Once we are out of this mess I'm sure we can all help clearing your name. I mean, it's the least we could do in thanks for helping us take revenge against Eredin." Edgar says, looking at Emilia to make sure he wasn't asking too much.
The young lord mmms and nods quickly to Emelia "Certainly. From each according to their skills. Riddleport isn't my ideal territory, but I should be able to manage."
He nods again to Edgar "So The Publican it is, eh?"
And listens with disgust to Phaedra's story. "He broke your wrist!? The ham-fisted cad! You wouldn't stand a chance against his money in court, he'd have you strung up with your knickers twisting in the breeze before you could even find a barrister competent enough, or brave enough, to mount a defense. Next time you see the fellow I imagine you'll be capable of defending yourself -quite- another way, and making him dance like a fool chicken for a fortnight seems a fair punishment... but I'd love to put him in his place for you." He shakes his head ruefully "Some damn fools..."
Chewing pensively on a bite of her meal, Emilia rolls her eyes and scoffs derisively at Phaedra's tale, "I know the type well. They think they're coin and status put them above the laws. Well I promise you Phaedra, As soon as we are able to establish my claim to my family's holdings, I will place all of it's resources in Magnimar to clearing you name. I don't suppose you know just who this young lordling is?"
Forgot to make the check last post.
Knowledge (geography)
Edgar smiles as Eaton speaks to Phaedra. If he didn't know better, he would think that Eaton was starting to develop feelings for Phaedra... As arrogant (and somewhat frustrating) as he is, Eaton's heart is in the right place. He wouldn't have believed it if someone told him a day ago, but Eaton has been nothing but loyal.
Edgar beams as Emilia says her piece. This is why he loves her so much. She puts on a tough face, but underneath it all, she has a heart of pure gold! ...How could Eredin have done this to such a loving sister?
"Well, us three are all of the same mind, Pahedra. Once we're done giving Eredin his reward for his treachery, you will have our full support. These fools won't know what hit them!"
Edgar looks over to Tellar. "what are your thoughts Tellar? Any thoughts on our plans for Riddleport, revenge on Eredin, or on Phaedra's situation? "
"Thank you all so much for your offers of help. As to who he was, his friends called him Jorah and mother said that when she saw the warrant for my arrest she noticed that my accuser and the judge who issued it had the same last name. Must be how he got one so quickly."
"If I may ask, who will be going ashore to do the recruiting for the ship and to buy supplies? I probably should make a list of what we have on board and then another list of everything that we will need. Though I'll need to know how long we expect to be at sea again to figure out the quantities of what we need."
After she finishes eating, Phaedra will clear the plates off the table and then take a plate of food to each of the pirates on deck.
Tellar quietly eats his meal, meager but filling. His eyes scan the young pairs as they talk and eat, taking note of the interplay. It would take a blind man not to notice where people's feelings were headed.
At Edgar's question he puts down the bowl and leans back, hands at his waist. Ship needs a crew and I figure Riddleport is as good a place as any. And if we're taking revenge for ourselves, I could think of worse places than Riddleport to gather a crew up to that task.
Looking at Phaedra he nods to her. You have my sympathies mi'lady and I will help in whatever way I can.
Having spoken more than he usually has in a long while, Tellar clears the rest of his plate and then moves to head out on to deck. Riddleport is still a sight off and there's always work needs doin' on a ship, especially one with a short crew.
"No." Emilia speaks up as Tellar slides up from the table, "Not revenge..." She shuffles the food on her plate, continuing meekly, "My uncle.. the North Star's crew... those men. They deserve better than that. Eredin will see a trial. Justice will see him hang." Pushing herself up from the table, Emilia says, "If... if you'll all excuse me. We can finish discussing logistics later. For now I need to be alone." With a nod and a hurried walk, she moves back through the door to the captain's room and closes the door behind her.
Tellar is the first to leave. He makes his way out onto the deck, using the rail to balance himself. He sees their two prisoners, or were they? Donnell still mans the helm, while Oscar was currently rigging down a sail line. Tellar set himself down on a barrel and began to work at untangling a discarded line that was pretty knotted.
He saw Phaedra come out from the galley with two plates of food. One she gave to oscar, who nodded in thanks and gave a small grunt. Donnell smiled more congenially, "Thank you miss. You're too kind."
Edgar watches as Emilia leaves the room. Once gone he sighs. "Man, things are gonna be rough, both physically and Emotionally..." He then stands up and makes his way out to the deck. "Common Eaton, we've got work to do..." He then heads out to assist the others with the chores of ship sailing.
"Awww... more rope?" Eaton sighs and hoists himself from his seat, stretching stiff muscles and loping after Edgar. "What ever happened to cheerful shanty tunes and bottles of rum...?"
Phaedra will clean up in the galley after the meal and then go though what supplies they have and make a list of what they may need to buy once they make port.
When finished, Phaedra will head below deck and find a bed/hammock to sleep in for a bit with the intent of waking early to prepare something for breakfast. Jocelynn perches on her shoulder as she walks belowdeck and finds something to perch upon and get some sleep of his own.
Edgar chuckles"Heh, Maybe when we have a real full sized crew, Eaton."
Edgar helps out with were he can, focusing on the things that have to be done with such a small crew.
If he has the time, He sits down and starts to work out how many crew members the ship will realistically need, including extra hands for possible skirmishes with other pirates and Eredin. He tries to figure out how much money it will set them back to pay for such a crew (assuming we don't go the pirate route) and if they do go the pirate route, how much each share for the crew would be. If we decide to go the pirate route, Edgar also goes to Emilia to help her with the Pirate Code.
After hours of working hard alongside Donnell and Oscar, Eaton, Edgar, Sinders and Tellar, the decision is made to weigh anchor for the rest of the night and all shuffle down below deck. Before the subject can be brought up, Donnell suggests that he and Oscar sleep apart from the others, in the spare cargo room perhaps? After a few moments of grunting - because in truth everyone is too tired to argue or discuss - Sinders agrees to bunk with the two to keep an eye on them.
Eaton and Tellar both claim a hammock and pretty much pass out on contact. Edgar, for his part, huddles down with some parchment, a quill and ink and a flickering candle to work his calculations on how many men they would need and what positions are needed to be filled. In the end he figures that twenty souls is as many as would be plausible; based on who and what they needed and compared to how many they could bunk and feed.
With that done, Edgar has to all but crawl up into his bunk, blows out the candle and feels sleep take him.
The next day is a beautiful one. After the previous night's storm; the sun has come out blazing across a blue sky, with a rainbow painted vividly across the sky. It's an uneventful day as well. With no signs of pirate attacks, Grindylow ambushes or mutinies or betrayal.
That doesn't mean it's an easy day though. The hours are willed away with everyone doing their part, whether they're man or woman, seasoned sailor or haven't the faintest clue. Lines are rigged, sails tacked, the work is repetitive, endless and back breaking. By the time to weigh anchor for the night, everyone's muscles scream out in pain and sleep comes even easier than before.
Chapter One: Riddles and Thieves,
The second day full day at sea for The Laughing Rogue's makeshift crew begins much the same as the first day. Edgar and Tellar rouse everyone as the sun peeks over the eastern horizon. There's a quick meal - this time consisting of oatmeal and a few slices of oranges - and then the work begins. The Sails are filled, the anchor is drawn and every man and woman near breaks their back to keep the operation of the ship going. Donnell takes his now familiar place at the ship's helm.
The sun blazes high in the sky, just a couple of hours away from noon when Donnell calls out, "Riddleport off the starboard!"
And sure enough, as The Rogue rounds the corner of the the moutains and into a secluded and rocky harbor, the city of Riddleport is revealed. The first thing that anyone would notice is the Cyphergate. A massive archway of stone that stretches over the breadth of the natural harbor with ancient and gigantic runes scrawled across its surface.
Behind the Cyphergate lies the harbor and Riddleport rising up behind it. Riddleport’s harbor is a somewhat crowded natural cove grown increasingly dense with piers and ship traffic. Runoff from the city’s sewage gutters and silt from the ever-muddy Velashu River sometimes transforms the water into a nasty brown, but for the most part ocean currents keep the harbor relatively fresh. The city itself is an amalgamation of towers and smaller houses, crammed together in twisting alleyways and roads, the kind of city that would be easy to get lost in.
"Be mindful o' the waters," Donnell casually instructs, "Reefclaws and Sharks are only some of the nasties that prowl these waters."
"Be mindful o' the waters," Donnell advises from the
"I am a man of my word. Donnell, Oscar, You are both free to go. But If you are interested, we will be bringing a crew together to take down Eredin and his pirate allies. You both have shown great promise and showed some loyalty in the last few days. I wish to extend the offer to join the crew if you are wanting to."
Once the two have made their decision to possibly join or if they have left the boat. Edgar turns to the others. "Ok then. I'm not too familiar with this port, but it is never a good idea to leave a ship unguarded, especially here if Eaton's words about this place are true. A group of us should stay on the boat, and the rest of us will secure the the gear, supplies, and crew. Once business is done we can take turns keeping an eye on the ship until we are ready to sail off. Thoughts?"
Eaton is less than pleased to be up this early without a martini in hand, but he straps on the great-sword and prepares to make his way into the township with a rapier on his hip and a spring in his step. Going to get the blade properly identified should take all of two hours, and with the certificate in hand he can hock the blade for decent coin to fund their little expedition.
"What else do we need to move, Sailor?" He queries Edgar, leaning against the rail and looking down as the harbor comes into view. "This blade should fetch a pretty penny with a wizard's mark of identification on it. There'll be fellows around the Cyphergate who can tell us who to speak to for the best deal. How much coin do we have liquid on hand? We'll need to have some funds on hand to make new 'friends'."
Moving up to the railing beside Eaton, Phaedra asks: "Is it safe enough for me to accompany you fellows for the trip into town or would I be better off staying aboard ship?"
Tellar looks out of the port from the side of the ship. At discussions of tasks at hand Tellar turns to Edgar. I will stay with the ship. You are right, someone should watch it and I've seen enough of land for now. With that he heads over to the far side of the boat and leans against the rail, watching the waves roll in from the ocean.
The playboy lord cocks his head and smirks at the young witch, one sharp eyebrow bouncing up and arching like a gull's wing "Well... *safe* in my company is a relative term but... with an attitude like yours? Yes... I think Riddleport can handle you, Miss Phaedra. Talk tough, walk tough, keep a spell at the ready. I can't think of a anyone I'd rather have at my side." Then he winks. He actually winks. At her.
Laying siege indeed...
"Ok Tellar, If that is what you want. If that is the case, do you want to come Emilia? Might be good for the captain to be present... Are you staying on the ship or coming with us Phedra?"
Blushing slightly at the wink, Phaedra turns and looks over the railing towards the town, hoping he doesn't notice. "M'lord I hardly think I need to worry about you trying to do me bodily harm or rob me. I think that I will accompany you all into the town since I'd rather not let a little fear keep me shipbound forever."
Oscar looks at Edgar, then over to the others and then to Edgar, "M'thanks sir... You've all been kinder than needed, it's true... But I've no wish to go up 'gainst the Kraken, and if you're after the Valdermar boy than that's what you'll be doin'. I'll take my leave o' ya when we dock."
Donnell, however, shrugs and replies with a smile, "Why not, least I know life will be interesting."
As The Rogue slides into a berth along the dock, Emilia breathes in the air, answering, "Yes, I think I will join you. Let's see now, we need to find sailors. trade whatever it is Eaton and Edgar have deemed we trade for coin. Supply and stock up, we'll need provisions as well and frankly I'm sure Phaedra would like a more functional outfit that actually fits. I know I'm sick of this dress so I would like to find some proper attire. Anything else we need before setting back out?"
The Rogue is moored and her gangplank lowered. As they step foot on the dock, those of the party who are venturing to land are greeted by a portly man dressed in common clothes with a tack board and piece of parchment, "Welcome to Riddleport." he greets in a tone that suggests he doesn't give two turds whether your coming to Riddleport is well or not, "Berthing fee is twenty gold a day. paid up front."
At Emilia's comments, Phaedra looks down at what she's wearing. "I would love to have an outfit that actually fits and is suitable for working on the ship. Perhaps some new, clean blankets and bedding wouldn't be a bad idea either. Some of the stains on those blankets were quite unidentifiable. I'm not sure what else we may need, maybe we'll think of something else while shopping."
"Good to have you Donnell." Edgar says as he unsheathes his short sword and hands it to him.
"Ok, How about we go and get the gems appraised and sell off what we do not need, then we go and recruit the crew, so we know how much money we have to put aside to pay them. Once we are done with that we will spend the next day getting supplies and arming ourselves with whatever is left of the money. And then we leave tomorrow night. Does that sound like a good plan?" Edgar looks to the rest of the party.
Once at the dock, Edgar meets the man and gives Eaton a look. "Ahem. Well, 20 gp a day is quite steep... do you think you would be willing to give us a discount?" Edgar asks as politely as possible.
Whatever the final price agreed on, Edgar pays for 2 days worth of docking.
Sense Motive (To make sure this guy is legit and not trying to scam us out of our money.)
Diplomacy (Aid another roll to Negotiate the price down, assuming Eaton would be the main contributor.)
"Ah... that's my ship, Portmaster. Lord Starse, of the Iron House Starse. We're not here for cargo trade, the ship doesn't need maintenance, no loading or unloading, but we -are- hiring a full crew on. Besides, Overlord Ziimo has been trying to get my family into this port for -years- now, and you'd hate to chase us off with a pointless berthing fee, eh? I understand he's not the most forgiving taskmaster. Do you have a Starse blade, Portmaster? I think I could arrange to have one 'fall off the cart' next time I'm in town. Fancy steel, holds a wicked edge, guaranteed not to break or you get the full new value in hard gold for a ten-year life of the blade..." Eaton flashes that convincing smirk rubs some of the scruff from his beard. What -he- needs is a bloody good razor and mirror while he's in town. New clothes would be lovely, but a real man needs booze and grooming.
Phaedra stays quiet for now and lets the men handle the negotiations while she steps off to the side a bit to try to get a better view of the city. She's never traveled before so this is all a new experience for her.
Tellar listened as Eaton and Edgar dithered with the man over berthing fees. And this is why I choose to stay on ship. People rooted to the land always make things more complicated than they need to be.
Heading to the far side of the ship he lowers himself to the deck and begins working on a frayed piece of line, watching the waters below him.
The Fat man stares at Edgar with open contempt and maybe even a bit of disgust, "I think it's a rather fair price, boy! And if you feel yer better than every other visitor in this here port, by all means, ship back off!" He throws his arms into the air with an angry huff, "The nerve o' some people who think they can just float on in as if I'm running some kind 'o charity. I ought to have you tarred and.."
At this point Eaton steps in, trying to smooth things over. For a moment it doesn't seem that the harbor master is going to budge, until...
"I'm sorry My Lord, but Ziimo or no Ziimo, The Overlord's strict on anyone not flying our flag is t'be charged. I don't know if I could... Well, my son's joining up with the Gendarmes and I would like to give him a nice new sword to co... comme.. co..mem..mo... to wish him well. I'll wave the fee this time, and you get me one o' them sword as soon as ye can, alright?"
As the group walks away - without needing to give up twenty gold! - Emilia mutters to Eaton with a sardonic smile on her face, "Your ship, is it?"
As they leave the docks, Edgar scratches the back of his head in relief, despite the color of embarrassment in his face. "Ha ha... That is why I'd make a terrible captain. I always put my foot in my mouth. I thought that guy was going to raise the price on me for a moment there...
After walking a bit Edgar looks over to the others. "Lets stick close to each other. Shall we sell some of this stuff off and see where we stand?"
Eaton gets the fat man's name and details and recites them back, and grins, clapping him on the back and nodding. "Certainly. I'll do the work -myself- even, and make sure it comes with a full certificate. When's he shipping out? You must be so proud... I wish I had a father half as attentive as you. My old man's so busy with the family business he hardly ever makes time for..." and he proceeds to spit-shine the man's ego and give him a sense of pride and confidence. He really does have every intent of sending him a marked blade in a few weeks!
The young lord smirks at Emilia and half-shrugs, cocking an eyebrow sardonically. "It's mine. I ride on it. I don't think technically any of us 'own' it until it's declared in port as official spoils but... Well, it was expedient..." he chuckles and looks a bit sheepish "Captain."
Eaton gives Edgar a little bump with his elbow and winks "Well I was quite literally born to the post, Mister Arrowni. My feet are fresh as daisies and I have a great deal of experience talking with my mouth full." Then he nods at the suggestion in agreement "Quite right. To find a reputable trader in this den of vice and depravity! Sally forth!" Actually lifting his nose in the air, he saunters forth looking self-important and quite a bit more cock-sure standing on land, the bag of heavy armor clanking on his back as he leads the way off the docks as if he knows where he's going.
That's the key to convincing leadership, see? Always be one hundred percent sure of yourself, and everyone else will take for granted that you're right. The man doesn't hesitate to ply his charms on fish-wives and children, inquiring directions and recommendations on to who might be the man to move a magical blade and some second-hand but still quality armor.
"Don't forget we need to get the gems appraised." Edgar whispers to the three, not wanting to alert the entire port of their wealth.
As Eaton gathers information, Edgar keeps an eye and an ear our for trouble or signs of any shops that might be able to take in some of their goods.
Perception
There are a few common themes when it comes to docks, and Riddleportss are in no way an exception. In fact if anything they push stereotypes to the extreme.
In streets crowded with folks from all walks of life, whores chase sailors and sailors chase whores. a whelp of a boy stands on the thick post of low wall with sticks a charred meat, calling out "Fresh pork! get yer pork!" but from the meat's dark complexion and queer smell, it's just as likely that the treats in question are rat instead of pig.
Eaton's path leads Emilia's crew into a crowded street market, and on every side vendors call out for your attentions, "Lemons, fresh lemons! just arrived from Osirion"
"You sir, A silk scarf for the lady? A lovely scarf for a lovely lady!"
"Come into my shop madam, I have the finest jewels north of Khatapesh, free to look."
"Yes folks, it slices, it dices..."
"Fruit pies, fresh fruit pies!"
Speaking to the localsquickly reveals that the best place to arrange to restock your ship, sell off any of the more mundane treasures - apart from weapons, magics and armors - and to purchase any periphery items such as clothing is probably right here in Riddleport's market.While the market barely matches Korvosa's in size and is probably dwarfed by Magnimar's, Riddleport's less than savory character makes it the easiest place to aquire or fence goods in all of Varisia, well except maybe Kaer Maga.
"A stunning little half-elf you saaahhhheeeey look at that parrot over there!" Swift recovery! She'll never suspect a thing!
Eaton spends a lot of time narrating and explaining and jiving with the natives. He stops to talk to the lemon salesman and promises to return and buy a fat barrel. He stops to test one of the scarves against Phaedra's hair. He stops in at the jeweler to haggle and agree over the value of the gemstones they've brought. The man talks with everyone. He asks people about Starse Iron, and the value of a good blade. He promises and cajoles and swaps short tales and shouts over the crowd and laughs boistrously and points and gestures and knocks over an old man with a basket of onions and helps him to pick every last one up and dusts the man off and appologizes. He even stops for a rat-skewer. He is in his element here, a marlin slicing through the waves.
Clearly more amiable and personable than ninety percent of the people you ever come in contact with, the only thing short of making his crossing through the market and selling off goods and trading information a Disney musical is the actual -music-.
Sadly, unshaven and unprepared, Eaton comes across a bit too desperate when it actually comes to -trading-. He actually gets a bit nervous one too many times with Phaedra wandering out of his line of sight for even a moment, or noting the way that some of the -clearly piratical- fellows eye his female companions. Or more disturbingly, he or Edgar.
Still, with shopping in his blood, he can have an average time even on a bad day, and tries his damnedest to get the most value he can out of the mundane gear they've acquired, hocking the inferior armor and weapons to shop-keeps who are willing to refit or resell the stuff at full value once cleaned up (not that prestidigitation hasn't already cleaned them up for the most part...).
The real fun comes when they take that great-blade to the mouth of an *alley-way* that he clearly thinks is going to get them all killed... you can tell because "I don't like -alleys-. I think it's going to get us all killed. Do we want to go see this old Wizard Wazir and try to sell off this sword, or should we stick to the more inoffensive Cipher Mages and see if one of them wants to move a big enchanted cow-killer?"
Edgar keeps his eyes out for trouble. Unlike Eaton, Edgar only interacts with other people in the market a few times. He does his best to keep the other three in his sight. He doesn't worry too much when someone does step out of his site (unless it is a long time). Edgar was not as worried as Eaton was about the place. He used to thrive in such cities. Sure a little rough around the edges, he doubted there would be any danger, especially at the market with all of the people around. He does keep an eye out for thieves and pickpockets.
If needed to assist in haggling he does, but he was never very good at that sort of thing, so he doesn't unless asked.
Edgar smirks. "Rest assured Eaton, alleys don't kill people, people kill people. And if there is one thing I've learned about you, is that you know how to speak to people. Just act like you own the place... You know, like usual, and no one will bother us. Besides that one guy said this Wizard Wazir guy is a collector. I bet we can get more money out of him." Edgar says. He can't seem to help guiltily enjoying the sight of Eaton worried. Nothing else seems to faze the guy.
Phaedra just gives Eaton a glance during his attempted recovery at mentioning a stunning half-elf. Well now, I'll guess I'll soon see if all of his attention was simply due to me being the only available female around.
Phaedra continues to follow along lagging behind and then hurrying to catch back up as something shiny or pretty or unusual catches her eye.
One the matter of the sword, Phaedra seems to agree with Edgar. "I would wager that the collector would agree to a better price, I say we try him first. Besides, if we don't like the deal he gives us we can always just go the other guy next."
Eaton nods. It does sound like a good lead. "Let's just stay alert, shall we? No unexpected surprises. This city has a reputation for a reason."
The walls on either side of the alley close in, forcing the group into single file as they all but worm their way through the alleyway.
At the end of it is a door. Well a door isn't really the right word, more of an opening with a thick curtain hanging down. An Older gnome woman sits on a stool outside the curtain, her wild pink hair streaked heavily with white and her eyes sunken in. She gives the group a once over before shrugging and pulling back the curtain, which let's out a puff of blueish smoke. Any hesitation prompts her to wave them inside with a hurried, "Well come on then, crack on!"
Through the entry is something of a cross between a museum, a haberdashery and a taxidermy. Knick knacks, weapons, armors and all sorts of garments clutter the room. On shelves, on tables, on racks and in piles. Scattered around as well are a dozen or so animals and monsters stuffed and posed - the most fearsome one is a purplish catlike thing with four tentacles, a displacer beast. There are no chairs however, just thick and plump cushions.
And at the back of the room, sitting cross legged on one such cushion is an old Khatapesh man. His limbs are rail thin, his cheek bones jut like daggers from his brown papery skin. His back hunches over like a bow, his frame is draped in robes of blue and green silks and his head is wrapped in a grey turban. A beard wisps away from his pointed chin and curls all the way down to the floor. In his gnarled hand he holds a the hose of a hookah pipe, taking a long drag off of it and exhaling a cloud of blue smoke and mingles in with the pall that already hangs in the air.
The old man grins as you enter, a large and nearly toothless smile, "Come in, come in!" he wheezes, "How can old Wazir be of service?"
"We have a blade for sale, old Wazir. There's some talk you might be of interest. A primitive weapon with a powerful enchantment, capable of cooling drinks and cleaving skulls. A crude, and unassuming device bearing a hidden secret of great value and strength. A weapon liberated from a slobbering half-orc pirate, who ended his days with an arrow between the eyes and a scream gurgling in his mouth. If such a thing interests you, then you're in luck, because for a mere fraction of it's true worth we are willing to let it slip free our grasp and land in your collection... For... shall we say... nine-thousand gold measures?"
Nine!? Nine you say?! Why that's ridiculous! But of course it is. The man is from Khatapesh. How rude would it be to start with a reasonable price? Putting things in measures, the currency of Absalom, can only help to clarify value. Now should come the haggling, right...?
Edgar watches as Eaton barters with the old wizard. Unfamiliar with magic items, he cannot beleive the price that Eaton starts out with. N-nine thousand gold? Is it really worth that much?!
The old man scoffs at Edgar, letting out a hoot of laughter, his eyes twinkling with a smile, through the wisps of his beard and his yellowed teeth (what few he still has) he answers, "You must think I've gone senile lad. Let's see this apple cutter of yours."
With the blade set down in front of him, Old Wazir takes a good look,
And nods with a faint smile. "Pretty crude, I must say. Not a lot of artisanship to it... I'll pay you a hundred gold for it, simply because I like you."
Perception
O-one hundred gold!? Is this geezer off his rocker? It's a freaking magic sword! Edgar thinks to himself. He keeps his mouth shut though, leaving Eaton to do his thing.
(*splutter splutter!* A hundred! Why you little... Perception It's a longshot, but there's always a natural 20 right...?)
"A hundred!? HAH! Lift the blade again, old man. Feel the balance. Even the weapon itself is worth three times that. Let's be realistic. I turned up my nose over the lack of design as well... I mean, who makes a magic sword that looks like it fell off the blacksmith's anvil, right? But the thing shears plate armor like rusty tin, and the chill-aura is a potent enchantment. A well-readied fighter would happily pay eight thousand for such a weapon. Surely a well known hawker of such goods such as yourself could make a profit greater than that?"
The gangly little man grins widely as he takes another long drag off his hookah, And surely you wouldn't be trying to cheat such a well known hawker as myself eh? perhaps you think I'm losing my eyesight in my old age?"
he taps his gnarled finger on the sword, "Hardly worth calling a finished product, the coin I'll need to put into researching just how to engage its magics, not knowin' the history of the item. And this isn't the frozen north with a bunch of Ulfen brutes looking for their next fly swatter! this is Riddleport, my customers prefer finesse." He leans back in his pillows, "five hundred, best I can do."
Meanwile, back at the ship...
Tellar sits in his spot on the deck, working away at a tangled line. He hears the creaking of the boards behind him and a moment later Donnell pulls up a crate and sits beside the old man. A small knife in one hand and a block of wood in the other. Emerging from part of the wood seems to be a bird's face... smiling a little Donnell puts the knife to the wood and starts whittling away, "If you don't mind my asking, you don't seem the usual type to find on a ship..."
Tellar pauses as the man sits next to him before continuing with his work. Donnell, he said his name was. At the man's question Tellar chuckles softly.
No offense at all. And you're certainly not the first to wonder at that. To put it simply, there is something about the sea that speaks to me. I'm not one to get too philosophical about the nature of divinity or the gods. To each their own I say. But where you hear the waves breaking against the shore, I hear her beating heart. The tempest of the winds is her voice raised in song.
Tellar shakes his head again with a smile, nodding to Donnell. And hear I said I wouldn't get philosophical about it. Truly I am happiest and calmest when I'm on the water. And certainly most captains are only too happy to have someone on hand who can help handle some of the more common illnesses that plague any vessel on a long journey.
And what of you Donnell? What brought you to a life based around the sea?
Trying hard to repress a sigh of annoyance, Phaedra adds her own two cents into the conversation. "What if we just tell you how to activate the sword and save you the bother of researching it? Also, aren't there a good many travelers around here? Surely you could find someone willing to pay a decent price for it."