Norveg takes a shot at identifying the 3 remaining potions.
"Indeed." Taishe agrees with Nahuatl.
The Kobold takes turns examining the remaining potions with Norveg.
Narl takes a look at the items as well to see if he can lend a hand too.
He also uses his detect magic spell to help out.
The party manages to get the other three potions identified. They are a potion of invisibility, a potion of barkskin , and another CLW
"heh. 'Jackpot' indeed. One believess we have made a mosst fortuitouss disscovery."
"Shall we pass out some of those potions just in case? Probably best to have them dispersed amongst the party now rather than later in a battle? Anyone have anything they would particularly like?"
"Ah, indeed. A little preparation goess a long way."
"Tragon perhaps a potion of cure serious wounds and maybe the barkskin for you? Taishe a potion of invisibility? I certainly know the spell on the wand so it might be easiest for me to use it? The potion of Swimming might be best used for someone not very good at swimming?"
"Could come in handy," Tragon agrees, pocketing the offered potions.
"Oi ain't much at swimmin', but I do 'ave a few tricks up m'sleeve," Norveg offers, "Sommun else kin 'ave it."
"One thankss you." Taishe nods as he accepts the invisibilty potion and tucks it safely away.
Tragon looks back at Narl. ”Maybe keep the swimming potion for yourself then?”
He shrugs "Yes, that might not be a bad idea. Of all the ways to die drowning seems my least favorite." He takes the potion with a nod to Tragon and a smile at the joke.
The air in the small cave complex is tainted with the noxious fumes of Penkus’ corpse. Vanthus still lurks somewhere in Opal. They now have a lead on his whereabouts. It seems like now might be a good time to go …
"Oi guess this little side-trip was worf tha swim. But how's we gonna get that coin ashore? Copper is right heavy for the value, but silver... it's a wrench to leave it! I figger about 30 pound of silver there. Kin we divvy it up now and each take 5, mebbe?" Norveg's beady black eyes glitter as he peers in the cash chest.
"One would agree with you friend Norveg. One would hate to leave the coin behind."
The kobold looks up at the others.
"Potion ingredientss are expenssive." He explains straight faced.
"Mebbe the big guy 'ere could 'andle it all!" Norveg reaches up and pats Volidrian's forearm.
"I don't carry all that much on my, and I'm relatively strong. With magic I can enhance my swimming and ferry the silver out a bit at a time." Nahuatl ti advises the others.
Nahuatl Ti takes the rope through the tunnel, as well as the loot, getting all on the beach in good order. The group all manage to follow the rope through the submerged lava tube, emerging gasping in the warm water. The narrow beach where they grounded their craft is nearby, and they haul it back off the shingle and into the water. They load up the coins and other goodies and start rowing into deeper water. Once away from the surf, they haul up the sail and set course for Opal. The evening is calm, and Selene rides high in the sky, casting her blue light on the calm tropical waters.
The party leaves Parrot Island behind and approaches the Driftwood docks with just a few hours sail. They find the dock they rented the pirogue at, and tie it up and disembark. Luckily, the owner happens to be about, and he reclaims his vessel, returning 9 GP of the deposit. The party, dripping, salty, covered in zombie yuk, stands on the docks, staring at the night revels in the local sailor’s taverns and brothels. Their bags feel comfortably heavy with their new-found wealth
Norveg pats his money pouch. "Looks loike it's gonna be a good noit. Let's go, mates!" he proclaims, and starts in the direction of the noisiest tavern with a bawdy house next door.
"Mm. I'm with you, Norveg. I could use a beer and a bed. And a bath. Not necessarily in that order."
"Ah. One would agree with you. The adventure hass been profitable,.. but not entirely without unpleasantnesss. A bath and drink would rectify the ssituation, one thinkss." Taishe agrees. The kobolds weariness making him slur his "s"'s even more than usual.
The kobold eyes Norveg's course with a raised brow ridge. The kobold's face clearly showing his,... uncertainty,... with the ratling's apparent destination.
"Friend Norveg, One advissess caution in advertissing one'ss new found wealth. One findss that there are many who are alwayss ready to help one, to part with their coin." The kobold says sagely.
Nearby the party there is a bathhouse advertising a range of various grooming services like barbering, dentistry, and surgery along with hot baths. a few doors down from there is is a common sailors tavern, the Kitetail's Smile , with a swinging board emblazoned with a cartoonish rendering of one of the flying lizards with a big grin. next to that is Maria's , which seems to be a bordello. Various women, and a few men, call to passing sailors from a second story balcony.
A various lot of drunken sailors trod the splintered boards of the Driftwood. Sengenise sailors with their golden skin and almond eyes, brown-skinned Theranans swaggering along, most in the blue naval uniforms their merchant marine favors. Even a crew of Sea Wolves troop by, their green skin adorned with jewels and gold, their long tusks scrimshawed with monsters and battle scnenes.
Nahuatl ti smiles at they hit the main street, veering toward the bath-house as the group makes it's way. "Looks like everything you can wan't you'll find." she says to her weary companions.
"Probably best not to show up at the tavern smelling like this," Tragon says, looking at his armor. "Although I'm sure some of these places have smelled worse." He heads toward the bath-house.
"Ooh, lookit them fancy folk wantin' baths," Norveg scowls at the bath house, then pauses a moment before winding his paw beneath his armor to scratch. "Curse that salt water! Gets ya clean enough, but itchy as all hells. Blasted stuff."
Heaving a deep sigh, Norveg follows Nahuatl ti and Tragon. He shrugs apologetically at Taish.
Taishe merely nods sagely as he falls in step with his fellow short humanoid.
"Indeed. One enjoys a good ssalt-water bath. But it leavess the sscaless very dry."
The bath house is a fairly clean establishment. It features large communal bathing, hot and cold and even a steam room. There is a laundry on site , and the aforementioned barbering/surgical amenities. Five silvers gets entrance, and soap and towel. Another silver gets clothing washed and quick dried. Another silver gets a barbering
Norveg slips seven silvers out of his pouch, closes it tight, and enters the bathhouse. His nose twitches at the unaccustomed smell of cleanliness. "This is somethin loik," he exclaims, while he divests himself of pack, armor, and clothing. He puts his money pouch into his pack and his pack with his armor around the edge of the hot pool - keeping all within his sight. Tossing his clothing to the attendant to get washed, he dips in both pools, hot then cold.
Stepping out of the cold bath, he shivers a moment, then shakes himself nearly dry, spattering anyone standing nearby. The towel finishes the drying job. He plops down near his gear until his clothes are returned, then heads for the barber (rat groomer?) for somes sort of a trim.
"All this fanciness could go to a bloke's 'head!"
”I’ll admit - it seems extravagant. But maybe we’ve earned a bit of extravagance,” Tragon says, soaking his weary bulk in the hot bath.
"Indeed. One iss in agreement." Taishe agrees from the warm pool.
The kobold seems very reluctant to get into the cold water pool, but does so after a moment. He is very animated when he emerges from it a few moments later.
Maybe kobolds have something in common with their cold-blooded cousins?
After those who wish get cleaned and groomed, they rendezvous with any who didn’t and head over to the Kitetail’s Smile. There is a fairly polyglot assortment of sailors and dockworkers drinking here, about half Opalline and half foreign. Not a bad mix, considering. A portly Man with scars on his cheeks from several bad sword cuts pours drinks for a troop of young servers. There seems to be a fairly genial atmosphere in the tavern, none of that tension that can occur when bad things are occurring. There’s an empty table towards the front door that looks as if it will accommodate you all
"Ah. Very convenient." Taishe says as he sees the vacant able and heads towards it. After a moment he clambers up into one of the 'normal sized' chairs.
Once the others have claimed seats as well, the kobold rubs his scaly chin thoughtfully.
"Sssooo,..." Taishe drawls out the word.
"How, specifically, doess one think we should proceed from here?" He inquires of the others.
Norveg squints at Taishe. "Order us some grog, o'course."
Taishe nods slowly at Norveg.
"Of coursse. But, One wass talking about how to deal with the villain who locked uss in the cavess. But grog will be a good sstart." The kobold agrees.
"Ah. Roit. Grog now, thinkin' later." Norveg waves to a server. "Grogs all 'round, luv."
A server brings round the rum punches so popular with sailors of the Eastern Isles. A bard sits in the corner, pumping and accordion for all he’s worth, playing various sea chanteys. There seems to be a lot of animated conversation among the patrons
DC 12 Perception
Taishe holds the mug much like the others, tipping it as if sipping from it. The easier to lap up the rum punch without offending the sensibilities of any others around him. (Draconian snouts are notoriously difficult to drink normally with, without making a mess.)
The kobold perks up at something, tilting his head a little. He places the mug back on the table and speaks in a soft voice to the others.
"It would appear that Vark hass been, bussy. One heard that the Harbormasster, Keletar, wass found murdered in a manner mosst unpleassant. And people have noticed that Vark iss not to be found."
The kobold strokes his chin-tendrils thoughtfully.
"One wonderss, why would Vark kill hiss superior though? It iss hardly a ssecret that harbormassterss and their employ skim off of shipss and captains. Mosst curiousssss,..."
After enjoying a good bath and cleaning the grime from his clothing and body. He pays extra to have his clothing laundered. He makes his way to the tavern his compatriots are at.
Raising the grog he sniffs at is suspiciously but drinks it anyways.
In a quiet hushed tone. "My friends it seems our employers brother Vanthus has been causing quite a raukus here. If he is willing to do his own family dirty ... well seems the group he allied with also might want to know of his double dealing ways. I suggest we try and locate the spot he is hiding out to prevent further damage. Yet our employer may want to know of our current progress as well?"
"Sso, Ssorry. Confussed names. Most inexcussable." Taishe interjects. He looks embarrassed at the slip.
"One agreess. Vanthuss Musst be sstopped. Updating employer would be logical, and honorable. But One thinkss, mayhap, continuing with intent to take Vanthuss down and THEN reporting to employer may be advisable?"
"Employer will not be happy when informed. It may take time to convince him to face truth. Family can be,... mosst difficult."
"Vark's bin asleep since we left 'im that way. Couldn'ta killed the 'arbormaster. Think Vanthus done the 'arbormaster?" Norveg leans in and speaks as quietly as possible.
Already quite comfortable with her companions, both since they'd literally faced death together, and the fact that she wasn't in the habit of wearing all that much to begin with, Nhuatl ti, hands over the required silvers as she strip down, handing her clothing in to be laundered, and letting out a deep sigh as she settles into the hot water pool, enjoying the heat for a bit before beginning to scrub off any salt, sand and sweat from the day's adventure.
"Seems likely. If her would turn on his own sister, I doubt he'd bat an eyelash at killing the Harbormaster to suit his needs." she says, sipping her drink.
"Indeed. One iss of the opinion that iss mosst likely sscenario." Taishe agrees, tilting his mug up to lap more drink.
"One advissess that we proceed quickly. But cautiously. Vanthuss musst be sstopped. One would not categorize mosst of his victimss ass 'innocent'. But that doess not excusse hiss actionss."
The party pricks up their ears, and it seems like the Harbormasters’ demise is the hot topic of the evening. They hear a few people arguing who or what did the deed, but no one seems to have a lock-solid culprit. The lime/ale/rum punches known as ‘grog’ go down fast, but the first mug highlights the fact that it has been an extremely long day (and night). They all start to become tired
"Wy make it so messy, eh? Were th' wounds blade or claw?" Norveg whispers, draining his mug and wiping sleeve across mouth. "Ya sure it's Vanthuss? 'E'd uv bin there while we was in that cursed cave. Someone shoulda saw 'im."
"Or someone doing it for him."
Taishe's head starts to sink, but the kobold turns it into a head bob as he blinks himself back to wakefulness.
"Indeed. One need not do the deed himsself to have it done. And third, or fourth, hand reportss are hardly ssuitable to finding out details of time and method. While it iss possible that otherss could have done thiss, we have a likely ssusspect in Vanthuss. And not yet enough information to point to another."
"One advisess that we deal with the known culprit firsst. THEN worry about another posssible killer on the loosse."