Tendal waits impatiently at the splitting of the path, cane tapping quietly on the chalk marking of the wooden board, as the others make their way up.
"If you are done playing in the swamp. I think we should finish this bit of business sooner, rather than later. Waiting for the sun to go down may place us at a serious disadvantage. Additionally, if the red path leads to Ziphras and his place of sanctuary as we were told, then it is more likely that this path will have additional defenses placed upon it. I recommend caution as we proceed."
"Want me to scout ahead, or loom over your shoulder as a body guard, sir?"
"I'd suggest we approach as a group rather than separated... would serve to see us best prepared. If they spy a single ahead it could turn swiftly for that one..."
If a planet is a star, is a moon? Are You guiding and empowering this, or have the waters of life only pooled in Your footsteps? Some Other's, footsteps? Forgive, either my presumption of service to You, or my service to that Other, in the vengeance I mean to take, for the abuse of the Grace of Your... of _the_, Moon, turning to weapon and wile and woe, setting hound on master... the lambent Light of lovers and the lost.
Gristav looked for the butterfly, but failed to find it, and, in some space between imagination and hope, pictured the creature helping Nigel with his burdens. Gris nodded, smiling at the creature's capacity, even in its absence, to buoy burdens.
"Te-", Gristav began, catching himself. "Magnimar? I've a clashing chromatic coruscant cone at hand, as, I expect, do you. Yours, of more power than mine. Mine, to follow yours, or vice versa? I have to wonder - if the pet can break the neck of the master, does the transformation weaken, versus magicks, as well?"
"Yeah the last thing you wanna do in Riddleport is to go on alone. That's just an invitation for trouble. The Suit and Raccoon got it right... caution and stay together."
"Okay. Together. Stay right behind me, sir."
Braddon sheathes his swords and leads on, keeping a careful eye on the pathway ahead.
"The events in the Cove might be known", Gristav reviews to Tendal, lowering his voice not to exclude their fellows, but any unseen nearby. "Our place in them might not. Perhaps better unmentioned? Or if broached, couched as a defense against an overzealous constabulary? The turn at the tower, may have an organizational connection, here. Perhaps that, best forgot this day." "And that- is how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes."
"The events in the Cove might be known", Gristav reviews to Tendal, lowering his voice not to exclude their fellows, but any unseen nearby. "Our place in them might not. Perhaps better unmentioned? Or if broached, couched as a defense against an overzealous constabulary? The turn at the tower, may have an organizational connection, here. Perhaps that, best forgot this day." "And that- is how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes."
Tendal taps his cane twice on a board as he passes over it, a subtile acknowledgement of Gristav's words.
"Gristav, in a word, yes. I have retained some sufficient magics such that I remain useful. I have a summon, a cone and the ability to mirror myself. I also retain sufficient energies to recall and cast any spell that I know, once."
"And I am well aware of the properties of sheep bladders to affect the greater earth elementals that move beneath the crust of the earth." he says a small tight smile flickered across his face.
The red chalked path winds between the hulks of ships; visibility is rarely more than a few yards ahead as the party circuitously approaches the southeastern edge of the Boneyard.
As Braddon rounds another corner, there is a shout from above. Atop the listing deck of a derelict ship, two ratcatchers stand watch, loaded crossbows pointed down at the path. "Who the hells are you," one demands, "and what are you doing trespassing here?"
"I'm Braddon," Braddon spreads him arms, empty palms facing upwards.
"My boss wants to cut a deal with your boss. I must have missed the 'No Trespassers' sign," he deadpans.
Phil stands still and hunched, eyeing proceedings through obliquely to get a read on the situation...
"And I am well aware of the properties of sheep bladders to affect the greater earth elementals that move beneath the crust of the earth." he says a small tight smile flickered across his face.
"Of course, it's only a model..." Gristav referenced in kind, buoyed by the banter.
Some minutes later, that made it easier to lightly lie, after Braddon, "Your man... Remy? I think it was. Some coins changed hands, time was spent, or wasted, and then the right set of arrows followed." With a gentle gesture toward Tendal, Gris continued, "It's hoped that business be discussed, the details between our betters."
The pair of ratcatchers exchange glances. "Oh, aye? Well, Remy's word's no good for you here. You're going to have to present your credentials to us if you want to see Z. We're a higher level of authority."
"Aye," the other puts in excitedly, "at least twice the credentials you gave Remy!"
"Shut up, Ben! You prepared to do business with us," the first man asks, "or would you prefer to be ... perforated?" He gestures with his ready crossbow.
Braddon settles his eyes unblinkingly on the second man, Ben.
"I'm happy to give you twice what I gave Remy." The corner of Braddon's lip barely twitches.
"But it's not my call."
Phil eases his posture enough to draw an eye before reaching into his pocket to retrieve a gold piece. He sets it dancing across one fist and then his second before making it seem to disappear. He then raises his gaze and suggests nonverbally that it might be friendly for the first man to stop aiming a weapon of death at the ones holding coin.
Slowly the first man lowers his crossbow, then nudges Ben to do the same. "Let's see your, uh, 'credentials," he calls down, rummaging with something on the deck before throwing a sack tied to the end of a rope over the ship's railing. "Put them in this sack, and we'll haul them in and see if they're sufficient for you to see the boss."
"I've heard said, the measure of a fair deal, is if reversed, it's as pleasant. So, you, tie the rope around him, toss him down, and we'll ask the boss what the weregild be. D'y'see? Cost or profit, to or from the men at the top. We can be them as made profit for them, over coin for ourselves, or coin for ourselves, over their profit. If you've respect for your boss, stop trying to pick his coin out of my boss's pocket. There'll be no, twice as much, for as many twices, as you can manage, between here and Zithras. Take a look at that man there. He didn't leave his cushioned carriage, and muck down here, to quibble coin in a canvas sack on a threepenny-to-the-hundredfoot rope. He came to see Zithras, on real business, and that time is now. Or it's not, and your boss can wonder how many twices you've cost him."
Gristav left a breath's space for the rat to unpack his palaver, then closed, "With respect, now: Permission to come aboard?"
"Ain't no one or nothing coming aboard, except some coin," he barks back. Indeed, there is no method of ingress visible; the hull looms up from the swampy surface like a cliffside, and there is neither gangplank nor port in evidence. Clearly these two men got up there somehow, though whether that was by an entrance on another side of the hulk or by a rope ladder that has since been pulled up is unknown.
Tenal stood, leaning a bit on his cane, staring out across the blighted terrain, silent as his companions bartered and bargained.
This seems to not be going anywhere quickly, and we are losing light. Better to move this along then face an engagement in these swamps in the dark. Let us see if we can accelerate this process a bit.
"Gentlemen," he began, hardly moving from where he stood, "You may as well pay these...guards...the coin. Think of it as a downpayment for Ziphras than an outright extortion. Gods know he won't let these...guards...keep more than he thinks is right anyways. Ziphras always takes his cut, one way or another, the old rat, especially from those he thinks that get a bit too greedy. Nobody can hide a bent copper that he couldn't sniff out." Tendal finishes, then flicks a mote of some swampy bit off the sleeve of his jacket.
"Well alright then.", Gristav obeyed, in mode of factotum to the the Magnimar mein, turning to the two above. "How much, do you think, you'd be allowed to keep? What's your worth, me fine fellows? What's the cost, of dropping a ladder of rope?"
Phil rolls his eyes slightly before shuffling forwards, he grabs the sack and makes eye contact with the guards. Slowly and deliberately he counts out five gold... pauses for a few seconds before increasing it to ten. He then puts the ten in the sack, but doesn't let it go.
Reaching back into the sack he then removes six of the coins and releases the sack to be reeled in. He doesn't put the gold back to his purse but keeps it within his fist. Gesturing to the sack he states "Before" and raises his hand to add "After"
"Gentlemen," he began, hardly moving from where he stood, "You may as well pay these...guards...the coin. Think of it as a downpayment for Ziphras than an outright extortion. Gods know he won't let these...guards...keep more than he thinks is right anyways. Ziphras always takes his cut, one way or another, the old rat, especially from those he thinks that get a bit too greedy. Nobody can hide a bent copper that he couldn't sniff out." Tendal finishes, then flicks a mote of some swampy bit off the sleeve of his jacket.
"Now, see?" the talkative man slaps his friend's jacket demonstatively. "That's a real gentleman. You can always tell the real gentlemen because money's no object with them. I like gentlemen." He grins down at Tendal in a friendly manner.
Phil rolls his eyes slightly before shuffling forwards, he grabs the sack and makes eye contact with the guards. Slowly and deliberately he counts out five gold... pauses for a few seconds before increasing it to ten. He then puts the ten in the sack, but doesn't let it go.
Reaching back into the sack he then removes six of the coins and releases the sack to be reeled in. He doesn't put the gold back to his purse but keeps it within his fist. Gesturing to the sack he states "Before" and raises his hand to add "After"
The ratcatchers pull the rope up eagerly, opening the sack and testing the coins within between their teeth. The first man counts the group and asks, "Five of you, yeah? Ben, run up five white flags to let Z know he has visitors coming."
Ben stuffs his share of the coin into a pocket before obliging, running five rather dingy flags up an aft halyard.
"White means friendlies," the first man grins down over the railing; "black means kill on sight. With these flying, no one's going to give you any problems on your way to Z's ship." He gestures. "Just keep following the red blazes."
Braddon beams.
"I'm a friendly."
He makes his way along the path, not leaving it but scanning the other side of the hulk for potential climbing points or entrances.
Tendal nods, trusting the words of the guards. They don't have any reason to lie to us, good enough then.
Phil nods, before deferring to those taller with eyes groundwards - offering them to walk afore as he follows.
Snake remains silent as the others do the talking and keeps his face in a direction that makes it difficult for the pirates to see. The plus side of dealing with scum: money talks more than even Gristav, he thinks to himself as he follows along after Braddon.
Braddon continues to lead the group with the help of the red blazes. The white flags the two guards raised are clearly visible from this corner of the Boneyard, and the signal seems to have piqued the curiosity of the rank and file of the ratcatchers' guild. Men watch the group from the shade cast by shipwrecks along the way, though without any inclination to approach or speak to the newcomers. If anyone keeps count, there are over a dozen, and the thought of trying to retrace one's steps through the swampy maze with so many locals roused against one is daunting.
One last shipwreck lies almost against the grassy slope up to the plains between Riddleport and Roderic's Cove. A sizeable hole shattered in the hull is filled with an embroidered curtain, and two ratcatchers with crossbows in hand and short swords at their belts are waiting at the makeshift doorway.
Braddon makes his way to the embroidered curtain and pulls it aside to make way for his betters. He rolls his eyes at the ratcatcher beside him and gives them a wink.
Sotto voce as they walk Phil opines "Best behaviour if we want to walk out in the same number of pieces we've arrived... if needs be we can invoke the Queen of Whores... but I'd prefer to not if we can manage..."
"Best behavior, is it?" Tendal says under his voice, as he makes his way past Braddon and Phillip into the interior of the ship. In an instant, he lets his thoughts about the encounter in the swamp fall behind him. He straightens his shoulders, and moves forward with the jaunty, arrogant walk that his companions would recognize from streets away.
On the other side of the curtain are two more guards. Braddon and Gristav immediately see that the group is entering what was once the ship's cargo hold; the rest have to blink a moment as their eyes adjust to the dim interior. The belly of the dead ship is empty and featureless, save for the stove-in doorway they just entered and a wooden ladder leading up to a hatch in the overhead some fifty feet forward.
The guard within counts heads, laboriously. "Aye, five," one agrees with the two outside. "You see any more provender, give them the crash."
"Z's abovedecks," the other informs the visitors. "You keep your weapons sheathed, we'll do the same, but you try anything funny, you'll be pigmeat taking an earth bath. Savvy?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"No."
Taking a silent but deep breath through his nose, "He means they won't kill us as long as we don't draw our weapons," he clarifies plainly to the ranger.
"Remarkable restraint."
"Well, duh," Braddon rolls his eyes. "If I draw my weapon I kill at least two of them. Of course they'll try and kill me back."
He looks to the guard beside him. "I'm not gonna draw my weapon. We're good. We're good? Good."
Braddon grins widely.
"Have we all threatened one another sufficiently to assume we may now proceed?" Tendal asked, a laconic tone suffusing his voice, not bothering to look at anyone in particular. "Excellent." he continued after a moment's pause and silence. He then moved down the passageway, his cane tip thumping hollowly on the boards.
Phil keeps his tongue and watches.
The two interior guards provide an unobtrusive escort to the ladder at the far end of the cargo hold. Here, a modicum of illumination provides light safely to maneuver the stairway; the hatch in the ceiling is outlined with it, announcing that the deck above is outfitted with artificial light.
Braddon approaches the ladder with a swagger that belies his expendability. He jumps, catches the ladder rung in his hands and pulls himself up arm over arm without using his feet, a display that would probably be more imposing if his bastard sword hilt didn't catch under a rung almost pulling him down again. After the incident he climbs somewhat more soberly using his feet and steps aside at the top to let the others through.
"Good we left the knights behind...", Gristav muses.
As Braddon pushes open the hatch in the overhead, lamplight spills down into the cargo hold. The half-elf notices that there is a latch on the underside of the hatch, potentially allowing the way to be blocked behind the party after they've climbed up.
The hatch opens into another hold of some sort, empty but brightly lit by oil lamps. Above, a large grillework in the overhead lets in fresh air; the next deck up must be the main deck. Another ladder on the aft side of the grillework leads to a hatch accessing it. Two doors in the bulkhead lead to an unknown compartment farther aft.
Figures are just visible on the other side of the grillework, watching the compartment below.
Braddon makes his way across to the next ladder and climbs it. He bangs on the hatch.
"Five to come aboard, please sir."
"... a Rude Screen, indeed.", Gristav jests softly to himself, crouched by the earlier ladder, leant on his staff, ready to offer hand to any rising superior of mind to take it.
Braddon makes his way across to the next ladder and climbs it. He bangs on the hatch.
"Five to come aboard, please sir."
"Wrong way, sailor," one of the men above calls down. "Z's waiting for you through there." It's difficult to make out his gesture through the grillework, but the only other way out of the compartment is through the aft doors.
Braddon jumps down and shrugs. "I thought he was on the up and up."
Braddon crosses to the left door and reaches towards the handle.
"Hey, do you guys want me wait until we're all locked in here before I release your monster and pass your stupid test? Or can I take it on my own?"
There is an outburst of rough laughter from the main deck above.
"Monster? You hear that? He thinks we've got a monster."
"Oy, Professor! Which one of you's the monster?"
"Fellow thinks he has to fight a monster to do business with Z!"
Braddon opens the door.
A long compartment the width of the ship (the second door also opens into this compartment) was once the berth where the crew slung their hammocks but is now empty. Another grillework in the overhead lets in some filtered daylight. Three men in studded leather armor wait watchfully.
At the aft end of the compartment, double doors stand open into a comfortable-looking apartment. Around the central pillar of the mizzen mast can be seen a bed, a large table with several chairs, and some rugs. Sitting in a chair directly through the doorway, rather like a king in a throne, is another man, youngish, with thick sideburns and a thin moustache. Next to his chair is a birdcage hooked on a tall stand, with some sort of small, furry creature huddled inside.
"Gentlemen!" the man in the chair greets the group cordially. "I'm embarrassed -- really, I am. Is that what the bosses do in Riddleport: make you fight a pet monster to get an audience? That's right up Zincher's alley, but you have to realize he has an arena so he has a stable of exotica ready at hand. If you wouldn't mind spreading the rumor I have a monster back in town? Feel free to say you vanquished it easily, of course."