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Deciding to give the swamp creature its distance, you skirt around to the south out of sight and pass safely, continuing on through the swamp and moving to the coast.
Within a few hours the sleepy fishing village of Piers End comes into view, the place offering a warm inn, a hot meal, and the opportunity to make arrangements for travel to the Isle of Erran and the port of Escadar.
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Kishara is much relieved to return to comforts of civilization. She accompanies the lady Yhen, and greets those inside with smiles and friendly words.
"Oh the food smells marvelous... Is that chowder I smell? And fresh biscuits?" Making a bee-line for the food and likely tipping too generously, Kishara strikes up a conversation with the serving staff and patrons at the bar, inquiring about how they might book passage on a ship to the port of Escadar.
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Haemish takes the riding saddle off Lady and lets her hunt in the woods nearby. "Just don't come to close to the village! You might spook the locals!" he tells her, wagging a finger in her direction. The wolf lopes off and is quickly lost from sight.
The bearded halfling then enters the inn and follows Kishara around, making occasional comments about her fine clothing, and elegant, delicately pointed fingers. She catches him a few times staring at her, but he immediately turns away when she sees him, and goes back to eating some fish head stew.
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The party keeps their ears open whilst they talk amongst the villagers and fishermen you determine that there a few options. Kishara seems to get little at first, Yhen managing to strike a chord with the locals and get some juicy gossip, which gets Kishara back on track with some solid leads to follow up on.
You manage to find out that there are three likely people in the village that would be willing to provide passage for a price; a human woman, Darice; a male halfling, Small Otti; and a old male human, Tanner.
- Darice never knew her father, and many villagers whisper that he was a member of the Pathfinder Society. Small Otti values his coin, for he has many mouths to feed—most importantly, his own. Tanner’s skill at sea is unmatched, but so is his lunacy; take a boat ride with him and you might ride straight into a squall.
- Darice resents never knowing her father and some say she longingly caresses the trinket he left behind for her. Small Otti has a weakness for fine food and drink, and any deal with him is made sweeter if food is involved. Some whisper that Tanner is not actually crazy, but no one is brave enough to find out.
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As the group finally gathers around a single table in the Inn and shares the knowledge they have gained, Grimaldus voices his desire to interview all three potential captains. He personally likes the way the old human, Tanner, approaches his craft - straight to the point; taking swift and decisive action...Almost like he is battling the sea. Grim understands this approach the best. He likes Small Otti the least based on the descriptions of his greed and gluttony - Grim reasons if one can not control themselves in the everyday things, they will not be trustworthy in the big challenges of life.
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Yhen sets off with her small group to meet Tanner, and they encounter a disheveled, fish-smelling, and wild-eyed man who is blowing thick gouts of grey smoke from an aromatic pipe.
”That damn treacherous sea? That’s what you want to cross?” he questions from the corner of his mouth ”Shes an unfaithful mistress I tells ya, was much more reasonable when I was a younger man! Now she devils me like a Cheliaxian housewife!” he almost shakes a fist at the ocean ”I’ll skirt you across her safely for thirty five gold, might even wait about for your return too!”
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Kishara blushes slightly under the halflings scrutiny, raising an eyebrow and looking down at her mud covered boots and breeches before shaking her head in amused disbelief. She always dressed simply and for comfort as well as utility so the comment about her clothing seemed like it might be a joke at her expense. But she did indeed have lithe and nimble fingers, a point she prided herself on. She politely pretends not to notice the halflings lingering looks as she busies herself eating and speaking with the locals.
Kishara liked the idea of speaking with the daughter of a Pathfinder, but has no strong feelings about the matter so she merely shrugs and agrees to go along with the group. She chuckles to herself over when exactly 'crazy' became synonymous with 'good'. Oh yes, it was the day she became a Pathfinder.
She barks a laugh over the Chelaxian housewife comment and tries to get a feel for the wild looking man's ability to ferry them safely.
"Want is not the word, perhaps need is more accurate. Is that 35 gold for the lot of us, both ways?"
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"She's fickle, but she's an ancient old crone and not the young lover she once was. A fine lass like you wouldn't have the Summers under her skirt to know what the old lady might want. Of course, when I was a younger man she smiled at me more... now shes just a fickle fickle lady!"
"Sirens and dinosaurs, sounds more like a jaunt to the Mwangi"
Kish thinks the fellow is 'somewhat unhinged'.
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Darice Sumore is a surly looking young woman, but if her sea-weathered face were softened, she could be considered pretty.
As you approach along the wharf she moves forward to the rail of her ship and already you can feel her eyes scanning across you, noting details. "So what does a group of freebooting mercenaries want with a jaunt across the channel? I take it your not here for some fish." - her tone less inquisitive, and more interrogation.
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w/ Aid Another
Grim will speak matter-of-factly to Danice, sensing she may respond better to professional courtesy than flattery. He's known too many soldiers underestimate a lady and end up worse for it. Also, based on their conversation with Tanner and around the Inn, it seems these boat captains are fiercely independent and proud of their skills and their vessel. "Good day, Captain. You are correct about our desire to cross the channel, and we have little desire to fish. I must disagree with the 'freebooting mercenaries' part, though. We are willing to pay and even provide what help we can during the trip. We have come to discuss terms with you for the crossing, if you are willing. If not, that fellow Tanner will certainly be interested in providing us transit."
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Haemish slaps his hand over his eyes and Grim stumbles over his tongue. He jumps off of Lady and walks in front of the armored human, "As my bumbling friend here says, we're looking for a ride across the channel. Can you tell us a wee bit about your ship and her crew? We'll pay in advance if the price is right."
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Kishara observes the female captain and can't help but pull a face as Grim's attempt at persuasion falls flat. The young man seemed to not understand that his size and naturally intimidating manner comes off threatening with little effort. She is relieved when the halfling takes the lead, easier to observe when you are not the one doing the talking.
She similarly sizes up Darice, looking for the trinket she is known to keep close to her.
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"I should have known" she regards Grimaldus "Not mercenaries, no it's worse, Pathfinders" and almost sneers out the word. She was about to launch on some sort of tirade when Yhen comes to the rescue and then Haemish cuts in politely, pausing her for a moment - but the odd fellow seems rather affable and hard to say no to "Yeah its a channel, you need a boat, and its about twelve hours across. Reckon your money is better spent elsewhere though, friend. Don't mind, I'll stay well out of your buisiness" - she seems to have some sort of grudge, more with Pathfinders then you personally, and Kishara spots a Wayfinder attached to the Captains clothing by a fine silver chain.
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Haemish grumbles as he rides towards the final captain's presumed location. "Always best to keep your true identities hidden, lads and lasses. You never know if you'll run into someone who has a blood feud going. I know in Osirion, the Pathfinders are often thought of as little better than blasphemous grave robbers." The bearded halfling breaks out into a big grin, "I always claim to be an itinerant barber. Never known someone who doesn't like a good haircut!"
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Kishara lingers near the embittered woman, sensing she is in turmoil.
"Pathfinders are an odd sort, no? Often they spend their lives chasing ancient rumors and mysterious relics only to realize later that they have left their greatest treasures behind them, yes? Fair travels to you, Captain." She offers an apologetic smile and then catches up with her fellows.
"No worries, Grim, I think she's holding a grudge against an absent father. He must have left the wayfinder behind. We'll find our way across yet."
She chuckles lightly at Haemish's grumbling, "An itinerant barber, you say? How does that work? Have shears, will travel?" She raises an eyebrow at him teasingly with an amused sideways smirk.
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Haemish gladly catches Kishara's smirk and flashes her a toothy grin. "Indeed! What, you think I let other people touch my raven locks, and bountiful whiskers?" The halfling pulls out a comb and small shears from Lady's side saddel, "Before I became Haemish the Unlucky, I was Haemish the Berber. No better haircut in the whole of Wati, I'll have you know."
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Kishara tugged at her own simple braid, "Hmmm... I've not had my hair cut in some time. Though it did get singed not too long ago. Mayhap you'll give me a touch-up." She hardly realizes what she has just said until she hears Tikrit's coughing laugh and then her eyes go a little too wide as she blushes brightly all the way to the tips of her pointed ears.
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"So you're a former barber, now I'm starting to wonder how did you get the unlucky nickname? Did you cut somebody else's head?" says Yhen as they walk towards the halfling's half.
Haemish seems a bit embarrassed, "Well, the nickname is a funny one, and one that deserves a longer story than I can manage right now. It requires a good deal more time and a good deal more sherry, shall we say."
Kishara tugged at her own simple braid, "Hmmm... I've not had my hair cut in some time. Though it did get singed not too long ago. Mayhap you'll give me a touch-up."
The halfling perks up at the suggestion, "Of course, lass. We'll see what we can do, later. I'll have to oil my shears tonight!"
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You make your way to speak to the Halfling captain about passage to the Isle.
Small Otti appears to be making an effort for his lack of height by simply working on his girth instead. The well groomed portly fellow is just finishing off what appears to be his ‘elevenses’, in this case a fat slice of cake, as you enter to make your enquiries.
”Escadar eh?” he says through half a mouthful, distractedly wiping crumbs off his tunic ”Reckon that would be fifty five gold crowns for you all” he juts forward a bloated little hand as though a deal has just been struck.
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Towering over the short and portly captain, Grimaldus scowls at his outstretched hand and growls "Just because you're twice the size of other halflings doesn't mean you're worth double what other captains have offered. How do we know your skills at the mast match those you display at the table?"
Size difference +4
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"Well that's the sort of approach that puts a fellow right off his food then isn't it?" Small Otti looks rather defensive and put out, blushing about what is clearly a slight on his portliness "Helps with balance and buoyancy on a rolling sea" his blushing face struggling to keep straight "Fifty five and not a penny less, and up front, I'd have no chance of wrestling you at the end then would I" he seems a bit cowed by the size overmatch, but is doing his bit for daring in the face of it all.
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Haemish mumbles something about a dire aurochs in a tea parlor and pushes forward a more persuasive party member in the hopes of smoothing things over after Grim's aggressive debacle. He makes a quick bow and switches into Halfling, "Please pardon the Longshanks, Master Otti, when you're a hammer you see everyone else as a nail."
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Kishara shares Tikrit's incredulous glance and makes a mental note to make sure Grim eats more roughage over the next few days and then finds herself thrust forward by a pair of insistent hands.
"Oh do excuse my travelling companions, Captain Otti. I'm afraid it's been a very trying day. We were actually hoping to find a lower fare, since we had already received a price of 35 gold for the trip. I was truly hoping we might take your ship. It's certainly the superior option in terms of comfort and company, yes?"
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"This is just too much!" The little fellow bellows as he blanches "I shall fetch the authorities!" He looks at Kishara and her attempts at reason, but as she notes his face she knows that the situation has devolved further than a few good words might easily recover "I only regret offering you a figure quite so low, I now rue that I'd have to honour fifty five"
Seems the damage is done.