Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry invites the Pathfinder agents to meet her at the helm of the Glorious Payoff, where she navigates the vessel down the Garundi coast. This crew has been traveling together for several days now and have had ample time to get acquainted.
So, before we begin, why don't you introduce yourselves?
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A large man, of obviously ulven heritage boards the Glorious Payoff, the gangpank creaking ominously as he does so.
Greetings my fellow Pathfinders!" he smiles.
"I am Ulvard! I expect you have heard of me."
He eyes up the ancient hat with a bit of worry. "Ulvard wonders if Dolmandir has visited a saloon recently?" he asks.
Then, setting eyes upon Clarence offers a big toothy smile. "Clarence!" he yells, making sure he has the name right.
"Ulvard worries about Clarence wearing so much metal on board boat." he cautions.
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Clarence scratches his head, wondering what Ulvard is talking about.
"I hear pirates take ships like these. Of course we need to protect ourselves. But I don't believe I've heard of y... wait... some of my brethren spoke of an Ulvard who went to a salon in Galt but was not able to have his hair cut! Was that you?!"
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A tall half-elf woman with long flowing white hair and wearing a white flowing dress enters with a water elemental wisp in the form of a snowy owl resting on her shoulder. She is always holding a white-washed staff, and slung around her is a healer's tool. She introduces herself with a poker face.
"Sif Liv. You can just call me Sif." she tells them.
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Ulvard nods., "It is true. Salons are overrated. In Galt."
He points to a straggly bit of hair "Ulvard got haircut from orc recently though, so no need to visit salon again just yet."
As lady Sif enters, Ulvard takes a step back to fully appreciate her. Then, remembering that Civilized Men (tm) bow, he bends at the waist, offering a far too deep bow.
"Lady Sif!"
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Dolmandir smiles at the gruffness of both half-orc but stays silent.
He acknowledges the presence of his new comrades with a short bow from his hat and a smirk.
Youngster, always so... impatient
During the travel, you can realize that Dolmandir takes great care of his crossbow and seems to know a little bit about alchemy.
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Not a half-orc, and short by the standards of his own people, Fjörn makes up for his average human height in midway heft. He is surprisingly nimble for a thick-bodied and heavily armored warrior - sporting a buckler on his right arm and a tower shield on his back. His thick beard and full head of hair a dirty blond finds itself loosely bound into multiple moderately kept locks; a few of which are indeed well groomed and arranged neatly into ropey braids, whereas others seem to have taken on an orientation of their own, unruly, unwound, unorganizable.
Though his manners are polite, they stand in contrast to his wild eyes which dart around, as if to signify he is experiencing a mild hallucination at all times. This isn’t far from the truth, for beneath his warm furs what looks like a portable laboratory is stowed in horizontal and vertical rows across the inside of his garments and around his waist - liquids of nearly every spectra visiblly within reach of his ordinary sized hands.
On the trip so far, our psychedelic hero renders himself very useful around the ship, competent in every task, and always breathing in deeply the salty air, clearly at home on the sea ”Ahoy there companions on high!” jovial is his voice, like a rough jewel ”Fjörn is me, yew all look to be a fine crew” if anyone expresses interest in learning how to sail, he immediately involves himself as a kind and patient teacher!
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A half-elf dressed in drab black robes comes running from the deck below. He looks like he's barely removed the desert sand from his hair and boots. Catching his breath finally he says "My name's Quinthalas. I'm looking for Captain Calisro? I was told to report here."
He surveys the team assembled on the boat and smiles. Okay, looks like there's no riddle-maker here. This is going to be a good assignment!
As a splash of salt crashes over the bow of the Glorious Payoff, Calisro Benarry deftly steers her ship through a hidden channel, carefully navigating through the barely visible rock and coral that protrude slightly from the water's surface. Behind the Payoff, a slightly smaller ship--the Sea Sparkle--follows, making every effort to follow Benarry's course as closely as possible. Off the port hull, the deep green of the Garundi coast is illuminated by the late afternoon sun.
"See this gulls?" Benarry shouts over the flapping of the sails, "that's the sandbar we'll be dropping you off at. Barely sticks up over the waves, but the seabirds flock over it to feast on crab.
"As I explained earlier, Vidrian--you might have known it as Sargava not that long ago--needs explorers to chart the trade routes tot he south that they couldn't use back when it was ruled by Cheliax. Simple enough bit of adventuring, but the new nation's been having trouble with the Free Captains of late. Turns out when Vidrian broke free of Cheliax, the locals stopped paying the pirates protection money, and now they're the number-one plunder target in the Shackles. What's more, the pirates have set up a blockade to prevent our ships from making it down to Vidrian to assist.
"Thankfully, we've got someone on the inside. Stella Fane, a Free Captain with ties to the Firebrands and the Pirate Council, has been in contact with the Society. She and members of the Society's leadership have put together a fairly clever plan to help the Society's ships pass through the pirate blockades unharmed. The Wind and the Waves willing, the Payoff and the Sparkle can sail to Vidrian, no problem. While we're doing that, I've arranged transport for you to Port Peril to meet with Captain Fane and get her to sign this contract making the whole thing official--she may be a pirate, but she's the kind that holds to her word. You'll need to avoid drawing too much attention until after the deal is done. Once she's signed the contract her friends in the Pirate Council will ratify it and there won't be much the lesser captains can do. Be careful. Anyone looking to put a stop to this need only ensure that contract never gets signed."
Benarry looks up from the wheel. "If you've any questions, spit 'em out now. We won't be able to stop, so you'll have to disembark in a hurry."
"She'll be expecting you, and she won't be hostile. 'Friendly' is harder to pin down with someone like her. Depends on how you define it. The person I've hired to pick you up should help you find her, though I strongly suspect she'll be arranging for your meeting in a bar."
“Fane’s a recent figure on the Shackles scene, as is her ship, the [i]Risen Albatross. Word is, the Chelaxians bought her crew out from under her and tossed her overboard at sea. Some say she died and it’s her ghost sailing the waters and sinking slaver boats and Chelaxian ships left and right. I don’t believe it myself—never heard of a ghost that could put away as much rum as she’s been known to, that’s for sure.”[/b]
Benarry points to a bag hung over a hook nearby. "Look in there for a metal cylinder. That's the case holding the contract. You won't be able to read it, but that's not because it's a secret from you. It's magicked up so that only the intended recipients can open it, and if anybody else tries it'll show--so don't try. I can give you a summary, though.
“It’s a long-term trade agreement; we tell her where we’ve had reports of slavers—she hates them and it’s no skin off Society members’ backs to
let her know—and she approaches us first with any information she receives regarding archaeological sites and historical discoveries. Our
obligation requires us to make the information exchange each time one of our ships passes through the Shackles, so attacking a Pathfinder ship is the same as attacking Stella and her allies on the Pirate Council. Smartest deal we’ve made, if you ask me. We're giving up nothing, getting some extra information as a nice bonus, and we get our real objective for free as a side effect. Win-win-win."
She starts to turn the ship. "Absolute last chance for questions now. Sorry, but the ship can't get closer because the sea floor rises up to the sandbar. And we can't stop here, so I can't send out a rowboat. You'll have to dive in and swim, but here in the lee of the sandbar the sea's as calm as a still pool. Even those of you who aren't good at swimming shouldn't have trouble. You may have to wait a while for the boat to pick you up, though. We had good wind and we're a tad early."
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Clarence secures his weapons and shield. He grimaces, knowing that he'll have to clean his armor and weapons later to keep the rust off. He turns to Ulvard.
"One of my Pathfinder friends told me of this. I have always wanted to try this."
Double checking that his items are secured, he leaps off the ship, tucking his legs up to his chest and hugging them. He bellows at the top of his lungs as he falls, ""
He breaches the surface after a big splash, a silly grin on his face. "It was good! You should try it, friend Ulvard!"
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I suppose not all Pirate Captain agreed with Stella or that the Chelaxian will love to see this contract broken, despite their love for "contract". Do you think we could get into a trap? Do we have a sure way that we will give the trade agreement to the right person?
Once the Venture-Captain answers his question, Dolmandir prepares to jump into the water.
Great start. It's better than the time I had to swim in the sewer in Galt to assassinate of of those "people hero". At least here, no rats and the smell is better.
Dolmandir takes great care of his weapons and alchemist tools, securing them in a waterproof bag and jumps into the water.
"Can't say it's impossible, but I don't expect it. Fane, the free diver we hired to transport you to Port Peril, and the ship's captain I commissioned to pick you up tomorrow should be the only three people expecting you. Just don't be too obvious about it."
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Sif shakes his head when he sees the half-orc leaps from the ship. She murmurs a word that might sound like barbaric, or possibly lunatic. She stares first at the sandbar they are going into. She worries about her dress but she has no choice but to swim into that direction. She carefully hops down and swim to the sandbar without waiting for the others.
Everyone makes it to the sandbar without any difficulty, as Benarry had promised.
And then there's nothing to do but watch the Payoff sail away and then wait for the boat.
The crate is old and fragile, and will have to be Forced Open carefully if anybody wants to see what's inside.
After a while--the tide has come in and everyone is standing in ankle deep water--a boat arrives. Piloted by an elderly dwarven woman muttering to herself about "makin' me come all this way outta my way."
She beckons the Pathfinders forward, shifting stacks of shellfish and crab traps to make room for people to sit. "Hello, I'm your transport. Call me Hlar. Now I still wanna get my dives in, so we're not goin' straight to port. But that should suit you, yeah? You'll want a chance to warm up, and we're not supposed to attract attention by doin' anything odd. And your meeting with the captain's not 'til evening anyway, yeah?"
Once everyone is aboard, she starts sailing a meandering path among the rock formations. Every once in a while, she lowers her sail and dives, returning a few minutes later with an oyster, sea urchin, or squid. As the wind dies down, she lowers the sail and gets out a pair of oars.
She readies one of them, but pushes the other towards the passengers. "Since you made me come all this way to get you, least you could do is help me get everyone to shore, yeah? One of you take the other oar."
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Once on the shore, Dolmandir immediately sees that there's a wooden crate just barely protruding from the sand.
Look!
When he nudges it, he can hear the clink of glass.
Seems like the crate is old and fragile, be careful when opening it! he says giving it to the more bodybuilder members of his team.
When he sees the boat and its captain, he smirks Great, now a dwarf to sail... could it be better for a start?!
He gets on the boat and stays silent while Hlar does her business.
He lets one of his comrades volunteer while he scans for any danger the horizon.
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"Rum!" says Ulvard, putting on his best Pirate Accent.
He approaches the box and tries to force it open.
But his hands are kind of slippery from the sea...
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When the boat picks the team up, Ulvard is more than happy to lend his Mighty Arms(tm) to the oars.
"Ulvard is good Rower!" he says. "Everyone watch."
While Ulvard and Clarence don't immediate get the crate open, they don't break anything either. Fjorn gets it open.
Inside are a number of bottles. They've clearly been through some rough times z and most are broken and full mostly of seawater. There are two intact glass bottles.
One does seem to contain rum, and is stamped with a stylized dragon turtle. The other is a flask that looks to contain some type of beer?
When the boat (eventually) makes it to shore, it's around sunset as the boat drifts into Crescent Harbor. Sailors disembarking
for shore leave remain clearly visible, singing rowdily as
they work. Hlar soon lands at a smaller dock to unload
her catch and gestures at Fane’s ship in one of the
docks—the Risen Albatross. The diver notes that Stella
Fane’s penchant for riotous nights on the town once
she’s returned to port are well known, but confesses
that she doesn’t know “where the kids go these days”
and that the harbormaster, Tsojmin Kreidoros, would probably have a better idea of where he saw Fane head after her ship docked and unloaded.
She points at a man, another dwarf. "That's him there. I warn you, he's kind of a jerk. Or a petty little tyrant. He'll give up the information--it's not like it'd be a real secret--but be prepared to sweet-talk or bribe him.
"Most of the bars are on the water, so once you have a destination I'll take you there. "
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Still under the influence of the rum, our mutagenic hero spikes it with a silvery liquid. It's effects are immediate. First, his jawline cuts into a sleek, handsome ridge, the bones of his mandible re-organizing themselves. Second, the pudge around his hefty gut sucks itself in, internal organs knitting back as his spine straightens, giving his bearing a more masculine arc. Finally, his voice deepens, the high-pitched tinge of his typical tenor into a luscious baritone.
◆) Quick Alchemy @ Silvertongue Mutagen
◆) Inbibe
And walking right up to the Harbormaster, slurs ”Yew there! Tsojmin Kreidoros? My name is Fjörn of the Kolkind Clan, and these here are me mates. Say! You don’t pointing out that pirate menace, goes by the name Stella Fane? Be a lot of help to us right now, as we are new in town, and trying not to get swallowed by the city” hiccuping as if to punctuate the end of his thought...
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Ulvard is beset with mixed emotions. He was really looking forward to talking with the harbormaster. Still, his pride as his sweet talking (and imbiber of possibly sweet tasting liquor) countryman swells in his chest.
"Nobody can sweet talk a habourmaster like an Ulven!" he confides to his fellow pathfinders.
The harbormaster is taken a bit by surprise. "Eh, Fane? She went toward the Eastwind district. Probably the Watchtower. Uh.. that is, 'The Watchtower Gaming Hall and Purveyor of Fine Spirits.' It's called 'The Watchtower' 'cuz the building used to be one 'long time ago. Now it's an upscale drinking establishment. She must've had some success lately and be lookin' to flaunt it."
With that information in hand, Hlar invites the group back to her boat. She crosses the bay and heads up the bluffs. Several clusters of large, elegant dwellings come into view as she points up the bluffs towards the expensive and exclusive district of High Eastwind.
A long series of stairs with intermittent landings lead up the side of a small cliff towards a fortified stone structure. The structure, once a lookout and armory, has since been refitted into an upscale gambling hall. The sound of falling chips, shuffling cards, and pleasant music becomes audible to the Pathfinders before they reach the entrance and see a wash of well-dressed merchants gambling their money away.
A woman matching the description of Stella Fane is clearly visible at the back of the building near a card table, wearing an extremely elegant dress that is slightly too large for her, suggesting it was probably stolen.
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Quinthalas orders a beer from the bar. Then, he approaches Captain Fane but does not go directly to her. He surveys the area to see if anything or anyone looks suspicious.
Barring anything, he will approach the card table opposite her. Waits til he gets eye contact. Then he raises his mug and mouths the word "Cheers" to her without speaking the word.