Bal finds the prisoners alien behavior repellant and yet strangely compelling, and spends part of his days in mute but fascinated examination of the ugly creature. His disgust changes over time to a form of sympathy. Through trial and error following the creatures initial rejection of bread and water, he establishes that a diet of carp, fresh from the pond, and consumed raw, appeals most. Bal also tries to be present at any attempts by the party to communicate, despite his own incapacity with respect to languages.
He also spends a portion of his time in the smithy, turning out mishapen lumps of metal of unrecognizable function or appearance, that are flung with vigor into the discard corner as soon as cool enough to do so, only to be melted down and reworked later. He may begin to irritate others through his incessant fidgeting and random busy work, however the doors of the manor probably haven't opened and closed as smoothly and quietly in the past half century or more.
No one is able to make any sense of the scroll, either, until Jym picks it up and, looking it over, shares an exceptionally long and rambling story that may or may not have anything to do deciphering scrolls. In the end he manages to cast the spell on Uro, who in turn can now understand the bullwug.
The gist of the frog-man's remarks is that Uro is obviously a greater war chieftain than Chief Lorpth was, and a more powerful pirate than Drevoraz -- who was the toughest being they knew, and an orc to boot. With "Lorb-Lorb Tub" (evidently the supervisor) also dead, the Trub Glorp tribe's leadership is decimated, so the long and short of it is that he wants to serve Uro now. He is also hungry, and asks if it's OK to eat Jym.
"Tell us everything you know about who hired your group to attack us?" Uro gestures over to Jym. "If we like your answers, maybe you can have a bite."
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The frog creature is eager to oblige -- you're not certain if it's fear, desire to eat Jym, hero worship, or a combination of the three.
"Fierce orc pirate chief -- the one this elf kill -- come to Trub Glorp village. He big in councils of Red Pirate Clan, and he great fighter -- greater than Chief Lorpth -- not so great as Chief Uro. He come before, give us easy slaughter and good looting. He tell Chief Lorpth gather hunters. Me important hunter, second after Lorb-Lorb Tub, so me chosen to come, too. Bua Gorg no trust Chief Lorpth and Lorb-Lorb Tub, so he come as well. Orc Pirate say kill all in great house, and we can eat them and loot. But Chief Uro's tribe kill us instead, so now I join his clan, serve Chief Uro."
Bal's behavior seems equally as puzzling to him as he is to Bal: why eat live fish when there are bigger slain enemies to be consumed first, before they rot? You gather he suspects it's some form of conspicuous waste, to demonstrate what a powerful tribe you are.
Uro does his best to relay that info to the rest of the group. "Anyone know who the Red Pirate clan might be?"
"Anyone know who the Red Pirate clan might be?"
Lore Master for Know. (Lore): 20 + 7 = 27
Crimson Fleet. Remember, the massive, evil pirate armada that crazy mutant lady worked for? Drevoraz (the tough orc) was her first mate. That doesn't even need a skill check at this point.
Hahahaha. Sorry, it's been a while.
"Why is this big bad group of pirates hiring a tribe of bullywugs to attack us? Maybe they're too beat up to do it on their own?" Uro grows visibly irritated at the thought and looks back at the frogman. "Can you take us to the Red Pirates?"
Your new would-be follower has no idea why pirates do things -- maybe they thought there wasn't enough loot in the manor to make it worth their while. He also has no idea how to find them -- maybe load a ship with valuables, set sail without a warship guarding it, and wait for them to show up and capture it?
Uro can guess why the Fleet attacked the manor, though -- see text in light blue, above.
Jym's knowledge of the Fleet, from however many pages ago, indicates that they're actually a dozen or so loosely-affiliated fleets, so that even if Crazy Pirate Lady's ships and crews were decimated, the main Crimson Fleet, if they really cared, could easily send a dozen shiploads of pirates to attack the manor. Either Crazy Pirate Lady didn't want them to learn how badly she'd screwed up, or if the main fleet did know, they figured this was small potatoes and something they could just sub out to the locals.
So what now? This is another failure piled upon another? Will this escalate the response further? I wonder...once the bullywugs did their work, were they to report back somewhere?
Lady Vanderboren says, "I don't know enough about it. I can barely believe we're still alive -- I worry they'll send more, or that the Lotus Dragons will find out I'm responsible and want reprisal for the raids on them, too...
"But I've been reading my mother's journal a lot more, and I think a trip to my parents' colony might be useful -- with no money recovered from Vanthus, it's my best hope for salvaging a future for our house. (I was scared of the wilderness before, but the frog-monsters have convinced me that it's not too far from Sasserine anyway!)
"I have a possible offer for the manor that will leave me enough to pay you and outfit a couple ships for the trip as well. What do you all think?"
Jym looks openly distrustful at Lavinia for a long moment before ticking questions off on his fingers.
"First, where is this colony?
Second, what is in the colony that will help you?
Two, who else knows about the colony?
Three, who all are you bringing with you to the colony?
Four, how long have you known about this colony?
Five, I think that there were two number twos. Sorry."
She slides over a journal. "I learned about it recently, in my mother's journal. They named it Farshore; it's in the Densac Gulf, off the coast of the Amedio Jungle. Some of the nobility -- particularly the Meravanchis, who were early investors, know about it. I'd bring their son Avner -- a condition to get any more funding from them -- and hopefully you, and some hired crew. The idea was to exploit the island's natural resources -- it's rich in minerals and exotic game -- which sounds to me like potential income."
It seems to me an opportunity to take...
Elebrin tilts her head in thought, At this point I think it is clear we are involved with the Vanderboren's and any parties looking to finish what was attempted here will surely discover our complicity and work to tie up we few "loose ends"...Seems fitting we go off and work to strengthen Lavinia's position and our own so we might take control of the situation?
Elebirin shudders slightly and promptly becomes mute. Gods above I am becoming my mother.
Lavinia gazes on Elebrin with adoration, waiting to see how the others will respond.
Ixotl slips back into the house without fanfare, listening to the discussion. He takes a small tin of ointment out and begins to massage his calloused, tanned feet while he listens. A pensive smile rests upon his face as he waits for a quiet moment to speak.
"The mudmen have fled back to their swamps. I tracked them to the edge of town and watched their trail burrow straight for home. They won't be back. The scoundrels I seek have made themselves scarce in Sasserine. No trail to Vark or Vanthus here; not from those acrobats nor the mudmen. Might be they've fled to this colony. I've not been that far from home, but I've no fear of water. Perhaps I'll glean some scent of theirs on distant shores and bring back that which was stolen. We have the same quarry, so I will gladly share the hunt with you."
"Does Vanthus know about this colony?"
Lavinia starts to shake her head no, then reconsiders and turns it into a shrug. "He was never much interested in my parents' enterprises -- he left the journal in the vault, after all, and could easily have taken it along with the money. Then again, he's sneakier than I remember him being when we were children, so he might, but I doubt it."
Bal looks up sharply at the interchange between Lavina and Elebrin, distracted from his latest project, two small misshapen interconnected metal rings that he is perpetually and unsuccessfully attempting separate. He glances from one to the other, as if seeing something puzzling in their interchange. Keeping his thoughts to himself, at the next lull in conversation, he interjects:
For my part, I am sure our recent efforts have not gone unnoticed beyond these walls, no matter how careful our cleanup has been. I for one would just as soon not be here when... well never mind. I am up for a voyage to somewhere, anywhere, far from here, if you can use another pair of hands.
"The city has provided more dangers than protections. The guards here don't seem to be adept at keeping outside forces at bay." Uro gestures to Trub Glorp. "and I would guess that there are no Lotus Dragons in this colony. I also like the sound of getting back out into the wilderness."
"What's the cuisine like in this colony?"
Lavinia, full of excitement and optimism at the others' words, looks crestfallen when Jym speaks again.
"I... I would assume it's fairly primitive, unfortunately. They are probably growing potatoes, yams, and maize; I'm sure there's good hunting. Beyond that... I don't know if hiring a master chef was a priority..."
She begins leafing through what look like personnel papers and want ads. "Here! Just for you! It says that someone with the unfortunately comical name of Urrol Furol is a naturalist -- he wants to go to the island to document exotic species unknown to science or something. He also claims to be a chef at the Rainbow Lodge restaurant. Sounds like just the person to move to the top of the crew list." She tosses his ad onto to a small pile already started, which seems to be the A-list.
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Jym's breath catches in his throat, and he looks up at Lavinia with watery eyes.
"You'd do that for me? How can I say no?
"Metaphorically, not literally. Because that--never mind, I'm in."
"Excellent. We can take the Blue Nixie, of course, thanks to you and Ser Uro! If you could have salvaged one of the ships at Kraken's Cove*, we of course could have... uh... 'scribbed' that, I believe it's called. But even without that, the sale of the manor should leave me with enough for another ship and crew. So far, I have possible captains for both vessels, you five, and now a botanist/chef. Jym, would you and Eleberin be so good as to interview the captain candidates? I don't trust my own judgment these days.
"So far as others...
"Avner Merevachi will sail on the new ship, I think, and not on the 'Nixie. His amorous advances, even on the short 5-minute interview during which he was introduced to me, were odious and, in fact, purely horrid. I should sooner mate with his horse, which he has given the grandiose name of 'Thunderstrike' and insists on bringing along.
"Hmmm... I have here a priest of Heironeous, who offers to serve as chaplain of one of the ships. Bal, can I press upon you to conduct that interview, to determine if he is suitable?
"Also a... person... going by the name of 'Skald,' evidently not even his job description. He claims to be a master navigator. He is from the Styes, a city of... dubious reputation. Perhaps you, Uro and... uh... wood-elf-person... can conduct that interview?"
---
*
"So far, I have possible captains for both vessels, you five, and now a botanist/chef. Jym, would you and Eleberin be so good as to interview the captain candidates? I don't trust my own judgment these days."
Jym readily agrees, explaining that the party has an ideal good cop/bad cop routine down pat. His enthusiasm is not diminished when someone explains to him that this won't be that kind of interview.
"Excellent!" As if on cue, there is a knock on the door, and Lavinia jumps up and says, "Here is one now! Jym, can I impose on you to open the door? It would ill become a noble to answer the door for a prospective employee."
(Assuming he does so) The door opens it to reveal a blonde woman in a blue coat with brass buttons, hair pulled back in a pony tail, who looks like THIS.
"Ah, Captain Venkalie! So good of you to come. Please do come in. I see you've already met Jym Withawye, seneschal and major domo to the House of Vanderboren. Over by the library there is Elebrin Thel, our court wizard. Jym, Elebrin, this is Captain Amella Venkalie, who made the run from Sasserine to Wharlysk Isle in under a fortnight.
"Captain, if you will please excuse me, I have pressing matters that I unfortunately cannot delay. Jym and Elebrin have my full confidence, and any decision you reach with them will be honored by the House of Vanderboren."
Captain Venkalie is evidently not easily duped. With no attempt at good grace, she snaps, "Yes, everyone knows those 'pressing matters' are the sale of everything you own to outfit ships to flee Sasserine -- the Lotus Dragon have probably marked you for death, after all -- the bodies of the Jade Ravens were found hanging by their heels from Teraknian's Arch last week. Some say you've incurred the wrath of the Crimson Fleet as well, but I put no stock in that, mind you -- or I'd not be fool enough to be seen here. So, yes, by all means, be off with you. I'll treat with this two instead and look forward to plain speaking."
"How tall is your captain's hat?"
Somehow, Jym instantly turns the situation around and dramatically takes social command. Captain Venkalie smiles despite herself, and blurts out, "Not half so tall as your flagpole at half-mast, I'll bet," before remembering this is technically a job interview.
Briskly, she tips her hat to Jym and then to Elebrin, and says, "Let's get down to brass tacks. Your employer knows my rates as a sea captain, and the rates for my crew -- I'll bring an even half-score, to man all shifts -- if you've already got your own, they'll have to look elsewhere for a berth -- I have no time for training lubbers.
"My guess is that your Lady has no experience lading ships for voyage. I can handle that part as well, but it will cost an extra 10% -- of my pay, not of the value of the cargo, of course. And I'll want you two to help, if you're not too busy attending to Her Ladyship's affairs."(The sarcasm there is not subtle.)
"I have another condition as well," she adds. "I want that stunted little blighter Urrol Furol. He's a gnome, which of course makes me want to keel haul his wrinkled little ass through the fire coral, but he knows his way about -- he's an ace navigator, though he can't find his pizzle through his beard in the city -- and he can damn sure cook. Knows a lot of good stories, too -- ask him about the time Long Lily had too much absinthe..." Seeing Elebrin's expression, she trails off.
"Well, those are my terms. Take them or leave them," she says.
Uro and Ixotl:
An ill-favored person is shown into the taxidermy room, where you've chosen to have the interview. He is hunchbacked, with long, dangling black hair and mismatched eyes -- one yellow, one violet. He looks like THIS. After being introduced to you, he shambles over to a chair, slouches into it, and stares at you with his weird eyes, not saying a word.
Bal Main:
THIS GUY is shown into the forge area, where you're fiddling yet again. Diffidently, he displays his wooden holy symbol -- a lightning bolt clutched in a fist -- that of Hieroneous, Oeridian god of chivalry, justice, honor, war, daring, and valor. (In essence, this god is another aspect of the same entity represented by your goddess, Iomedae -- the names even have some sort of distant etymological link.)
"Um, Father Bal, I presume?" he says, eying your sweating form dubiously.
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Ixotl fishes a rolled, tanned hide out of his sack. He scrapes the surface with his skinning knife and rubs it vigorously with sand, erasing the previous contents. He rinses it with a small jet from his waterskin and dries it with a fur pouch - once white, but streaked with grey and black from such use.
He draws out a river reed and a small vial of ink from the pouch and tucks the hide under his arm. After sharpening the nib of the reed with the same skinning knife, he sets all three items down on a small work table and drags it in front of the stranger.
"Show us Sasserine to Farshore," he says without preamble and returns to sit on the padded stool he had risen from, watching Skald intently.
Jym holds up one finger and pulls Elebrin aside. He whispers so that only she can her him.
"I don't like the way he's talking about Ladyvinia. I mean, I think it's kind of funny, but will she think it's funny? Why would we hire a captain that's just going to keep talking down to her? Nobles can be prickly. What do you think? You and her seem to be more friendly than me and her, because of the emotional walls of stone that I've built for myself."
Ixotl and Uro:
Still looking at you, and seeming to pay little attention to his work, your interviewee begins to sketch. After a moment, you realize he's looking at you with one eye and at the paper with the other. When he speaks, his voice comes a bit rusty, as if he's out of practice communicating.
"Sasserine -- here. Cauldron -- don't go there." Indicating a dot nearby to the south (inland).
Another dot: "Styes -- bad place. Fish-people. Don't go there! Never go there!" You catch the stench of rank fear coming off him.
A peninsula, NE of Sasserine: "Fort Belmer. Never been there, but hug coast, turn south. Head this way..." sketching a line around the coast, "Then south to sea from here. 900 miles to the Isle of Dread. Can't wait to see it in person!"
At that last utterance, his tongue lolls partway out of his mouth, making him look something like a basset hound.
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Elebrin purses her lips and considers the captain leaning to Jym to respond, Lavinia is about to enter into a harsher world with greater threats than hurt feelings. She may one day wipe the stain from her house but the reality is the captain is right. It is our task to guide Lavinia and, to an extent, ease her wounded pride. In this we serve Lavinia by insulating her from a capable but perhaps less than gracious employee. I say we judge the captain on what she can do and how she can do it. We...and perhaps I mean I will work with Lavinia if she comes to fret. What do you think?
Ixotl nods along at the description, noting the names and places - some familiar to him, some foreign.
"Tides? Winds? Currents?" He enquires. " Reefs, shoals, and narrows? Squalls and typhoons? Pirates and natives?"
Jym knows of at least 10 or 12 captains for hire around the city (excluding Van Harden, who won't do open-ocean voyages), and could probably find out about a half-dozen more. That includes semi-independent merchants in between larger trips, people in the employ of larger concerns who do moonlighting, charter captains who entertain individual offers. The number that would be willing to voyage to a place called "The Isle of Dread" is likely to be a lot less than that. The number who would know the destination and keep their mouths shut instead of bragging about it... well, it suddenly occurs to Jym that that's the main consideration here: making sure word doesn't leak prematurely, to keep the Lotus Dragons and/or Crimson Fleet from attacking pre-emptively. That point is one he has a harder time with, but he thinks he could find one or two, given time.
Ixotl nods along at the description, noting the names and places - some familiar to him, some foreign.
"Tides? Winds? Currents?" He enquires. " Reefs, shoals, and narrows? Squalls and typhoons? Pirates and natives?"
Skald ticks off on his unnaturally long fingers: "Yes, yes, and definitely... probably around Isle, yes, no... almost certainly, maybe... probably en route, and yes at stops / probably on Isle." Then he looks at you to see if that's enough, or if you're expecting clarification or expansion of some kind (if not, he's not going to volunteer it -- he talks as if words cost him actual money.)
That point is one he has a harder time with, but he thinks he could find one or two, given time.
The other prospective captain's appointment is not long after Venkalie's. A lean, tough-looking lady who doesn't seem to spend much time on personal grooming swaggers in, a heavy basket-hilted sword hanging at her side. "I'm Lirith Veldirose," she says. "Which of you is Lavinia Vanderboren?" she adds, eying Elebrin speculatively.
Before Captain Venkalie leaves, Jym asks him his opinion of Lirith Veldirose.
Cp'n Venkalie tilts her head to one side and thinks for a moment.
"Veldirose is a tad on the sloppy side in terms o' discipline of the crew for my tastes. But for a youngster, she can for sure handle a ship - maybe a shade less well than I, but I might be kidding myself there. And I've heard horror stories of what she does to would-be boarders with that broadsword of hers, so there's that as well. Ye lot could do worse, all told."
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Ixotl collects newly drawn map, fanning it until he is sure the ink is dried. With the pouch in the middle, he rolls the hide up and ties it in several places with rawhide thongs, then caps the end of the rolled tube with wooden stoppers. Satisfied that the map is protected from accidental erasure from everything short of extended inundation, he turns back to their new navigator.
"Do you know where I can find Vark?"
Skald looks at Ixotl oddly, blinks, and then glances over at Uro, who has been silent this entire time.
He swallows, then says, "Don't know Vark. Can find him, probably. Two weeks? Don't want to miss boat."
The other prospective captain's appointment is not long after Venkalie's. A lean, tough-looking lady who doesn't seem to spend much time on personal grooming swaggers in, a heavy basket-hilted sword hanging at her side. "I'm Lirith Veldirose," she says. "Which of you is Lavinia Vanderboren?" she adds, eying Elebrin speculatively.
"Why are you assuming that one of us is Lady Vanderboren?" Jym asks defensively. "That seems presumptuous. And if it is one of us, don't you think it's obvious which one of us it would be? Ooh, unless you're thinking that a human noble is wearing an illusion to make herself look like a male halfling of heroic stature. Crafty."
Jym falls silent to consider this.
She smirks, but doesn't even pause before snapping back, "The presumption be in assuming this wouldn't be a waste o' me time, I wot. I ain't no minnow ye can throw in as chum bait, little man. If yer lady wants to know Captain Veldirose's abilities or suitability -- well, that best be done face to face, and not through a pair o' functionaries."
Jym is a little shocked despite himself, remembering the other captain's comments about that broadsword.
Bal replies, not looking up from the latest unidentifiable glowing red metal object he is beating vigorously with a hammer clutched in a soot blackened fist:
Ah! You've come at just the right time - hand me that 4 pound ball peen hammer would you? And stand back - the last 4 of these have failed unexpectedly, and you don't need molten metal on your foot.
Looking up, briefly, to take in the newcomer, he continues brusquely:
Wait who are you? Hand me that hammer quick now! What do you want? The kitchens are that way if you are delivering food.
While talking, Bal gesticulates wildly with his left hand, which holds a pair of long handled tongs in which the work object is clamped, passing close enough to the visitor that he can feel the radiant heat emanating from the metal.
The bald priest gapes at Bal, and manages to stutter, "Ah... the... what?"
He is initially taken aback, but quick to recover. "I am no caterer, nor yet a smith!" he sputters. "I am a priest of Heironeous, the Sword of Justice, the Light of Chivalry, Smiter of Heathens! Father Feres is my name. I have come by appointment to see a Father Bal, so you see I have no time for tinkering! If you are not he, then kindly direct me and go back to your work."