As you come back to the room, you find a note written on a parchment the size of a hand. You know for sure, you haven't put it there, and the door was closed. You look around and listen, but there is no one. You look for the window, but it is closed too. You step closer and pick it up.
I know what Gaedren
has done to you. He has
wronged me as well. I
know where he dwells,
yet cannot strike at him.
Come to my home at 3
Lancet Street at sunset.
Others like you will be
there. Gaedren must face
his fate, and justice must
be done.
You read the words and all those bad feelings you had because of Gaedren come back from deep down where you tried to bury them. Who wrote this? How do they know you? What does that mean?
Tisha carefully opens her door to her rented room. The revealed room frankly looks like a backpack exploded in it.
Vibrant colored clothing is tossed in a pile in one corner next to a very rumpled bed. A length of rope with a grappling hook attached lies coiled below the bed. Across the room a single dresser stands its drawers half open revealing still more clothing. On top of the dresser, the wash bowl, pitcher and mirror are almost lost in the pile of makeup pots, wigs and hats that cover the area almost as if just dumped there. Next to the dresser a closed backpack, rolled bedroll and open iron pot sit. The pot itself is brimming with a number of spikes that again just seem to be tossed in. A book lies open on the bed, showing a detailed drawing of what seems to be the exploded components of a complex lock. A well worn branched spear stands resting against the corner.
As the dark clad elf moves into the room she stops suddenly, as her attention is caught by the scrap of something on the floor.
She checks both ways down the hall and seeing nothing, slowly closes and locks the door. Then she checks the window, but it is still locked as she left it.
Stepping back to the middle of the room she leans down to poke at the parchment.Hello There... What are you?
Seeing nothing odd happen at a poke, she glances around the room one more time, t before picking up the parchment and steeping near the window to examine the parchment in the full sun.
All my hunting for Gaedren, and this just shows up? Hmmm... curiouser and curiouser...
She seems to ponder the contents if the note as she sits down on the bed but in less than a minute the picture of the inner workings of a lock catches her attention and she picks up the book.
Unnoticed, the scrap of parchment falls to the bed, the message already forgotten.
|
It had been a usual day at the infirmary of the temple of Abadar.
Only four people were rushed in the infirmary before dawn -three of which had obviously taken some shiver. Two gnomes, middle-aged; and a human male of about twenty. Ernhild was pretty sure she had not seen those two gnomes before, but so many were rushed in, it was hard to tell. They were blabbering nonsense when they were laid on their beds, and she couldn't make them say how much shiver they had taken. By the looks of it, it was a lot -if the white roots in their hair weren't enough of a clue.
The purgative had worked well, and she was confident they would make it. Gnomes in need of a kick were particularly prone to taking shiver, yes, but they were a sturdy sort in spite of their apparent frailness. From her experience, most of them not only made it, but stormed off the doors of the temple pestering against whoever had recommended them the stuff in the first place. At first, she'd been convinced most of them would come back, possibly on even harder stuff -and she was amazed to find out that they didn't. "Built different", had shrugged fellow gnome acolyte Dilipom. They can get the same high from basically anything.
Humans were not so lucky.
The boy who was thrown in her care that morning had not regained consciousness. She'd tried to make him vomit, but she couldn't keep him awake long enough -and the night guards had found him nearly blue and nearly choked on his own puke already. She had hoped it would have been enough to get rid of most of the poison, but in spite of all her efforts to get his temperature down and talk to him, he was still feverish and trembling. She couldn't get one word out of him.
She had offered a prayer to Abadar. She had a feeling the boy was no longer in her hands. There had been others like him -enough that she'd started to recognize when they were too far gone. Sometimes, miracles happened. But only sometimes.
The whole situation had started to create a bit of a disgruntlement within the body of the church. Abadarans did not, usually -as a matter of principle- operated as a charity for those in need. Healing was to be kept a paid service - with the work at the bank and the courts and the minting, it was that or residents priests would be working around the clock. The unspoken agreement was that most emergencies -save the occasional someone-bleeding-out-on-the-frontstep exception- were to be directed at more medically-oriented structures, such as the temple of Sarenrae or the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma. The infirmary of Abadar itself was a shoddy little thing compared to his Bank -a blank building separated from the main temple, not designed to attract attention, and into which the ill and the wounded were brought away from the public eye. If they managed to put you back on your feet, you were presented with the bill; and if you were found under the influence, you'd find yourself sitting in one of their courts for substance abuse and disruption of public safety.
Drug addicts in North Point used to be a relatively minor problem, but recently things had started to take a turn for the worse. Drug trafficking had spread around the Dock Trade and Ridgefield, and it had grown exponentially in Bridgefront. Temples near the poorest districts struggled to keep up. Even the relatively sheltered temple of Abadar, with its high standards and fees, was beginning to see more and more beds in its infirmary occupied by overdosed patients -some even middle or higher class. And there were 'talks' between those argued that emergencies couldn't be turned away when the other temples were congested, and those who would refuse patients -especially those who couldn't pay.
There was a third solution, Ernhild knew. That was to reduce the number of addicts by putting shiver trafficking in a chokehold. But few of the Abadarans even voiced that opinion. For all its money, the church wasn't sure it could win against hidden networks of drug traffickers -and anyway, this was for the Archbanker to decide.
Ernhild had found the note at around 4 am, folded carefully on the young man's bedside table.
She had thought it was his, at first. Something that had slipped out of his pocket and was simply put next to him, in case he woke up. She had seen no one come in -but then again, she had spent the last few hours tending to the gnomes, watching for any sign they were awake so she could spoon-feed them soup and make them drink water so they wouldn't completely dehydrate. Perhaps it had been here all along.
Her sight was not as good as it once was, and she had to fetch her glasses to read it by candlelight. Perhaps it contained a hint of the man's identity. The guards hadn't been able to learn his name. They rarely did. But to find a friend, a parent...
She read it, and her hands shook. She got up and checked the door. Closed. She checked the windows. Closed too.
The young man was still, and if Ernhild strained her ears, she could hear him moan, very quietly. She double-checked his temperature, and whispered to him to get up and leave. He did not budge. The two gnomes lay asleep; one of them asked, drowsily, what was going on. "Nothing," she answered, a little sharply, and regretted it.
Ernhild waited for an hour, the note carefully hidden in her clenched fist, until she was sure they had all gone back to sleep. Then she burned the note by the candlelight, and settled back in her chair, and she did not sleep.
It was 8 am when Dilipom stepped into the infirmary to take his shift.
"Something happened?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
"Not really. The two gnomes seem to be doing well. They've eaten a little. The other guy..." she paused, and did not finish.
Anything else?"
Ernhild gave it some thought. "No," she said evenly, and showed herself out.
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The door to the guard barracks opened and a weary Briggi thumped through, yet another long day and the usually enduring Briggi was exhausted.
Putting his weapons and armor away, Briggi lay back on his cot and stared at the ceiling. His sad attempts at helping his friend was going nowhere. He had been asked to try to locate his friend's son who had gone missing near the docks and despite Briggi's efforts, no trace could be found. Briggi wasn't surprised, he was no master spy, able to sniff out traces and solve the case, he was just a mere patrolman who could never afford to hire some priest or wizard to find the child.
Sighing, Briggi turned over and found himself staring at a slip of paper that had been tucked under his pillow. Reading it, he pondered and decided to check up on this in the morning.
Narciso kicked the door to his senior students room open gently, his arms full of books (as usual)... Immediately, he spots the parchement on his bed - he hadn't left that there; his notes were all over the desk. The books promptly went on the desk chair. The door had been locked, like he had left it. The window was also still closed, and there seemed to be no one else in the room. Suspicious of magic pranks (yes, Theumanexus College was and is that kind of college...) and he quickly casts detect magic...
Finding no magic, flipping the parchement over, he reads the note...
Narciso's eyes narrow to angry slits and all pretense of a smile flees his face. He thinks "Gaedren that bastard whoreson! That score needs settling. The Savored Sting grant that this is my opportunity!"
A glance out the window shows that he has perhaps an hour to sunset. He strides swiftly to the closet and dons his gear. In less than 10 minutes, he is locking the door behind him and clumping down the stairs. He needs to hurry to make it to Lancet street for sunset, and he wouldn't miss this for the world...
Sunset is the time to go home for most, and the streets are still busy with those that are on their way there. Reaching Lancet Street and approaching the building with the number three, you find it to feature a business sign that tells someone named Zellara is doing fortune telling here.
The door is ajar. The interior of this small, humble home consists of a single cozy chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The aroma comes from several sticks of incense smoldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke gives the room a dreamy feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling human hearts, and another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mist, holding a flaming sword in a skeletal hand. Several brightly colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throw cloth and several elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.
A note, like the one you found in your room lies on the table. It reads
Thank you for coming.
I had to step out for
a bit, but shall return
shortly. Please, have a
seat while you wait.
The basket under the
table contains bread and
drink for you.
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At sunset, Ernhild rises quietly from her cot in the rather squalid room she sublets from an aunt, dons her armour and grabs her warhammer. It earns her a few surprised looks on her way to the meeting point -but her get-up and feigned nonchalance is enough to give the impression that she's either a guard or a mercenary on some kind of errand. No one stops her.
She walks past 3 Lancey Street and cuts through a small street to draw a circle around the house, taking her time to carefully survey it. She doesn't see any traps, or shady groups posted at vantage points and ready for an ambush.
When she retraces her steps to approach the house once more, she sees a slight figure coming in. She checks several times that she's alone before stepping through the threshold.
She approaches the stranger from behind, her warhammer in hand. At least he didn't look like much -but many spellcasters didn't. She had to remain vigilant. "You the one who sent the note?" she asks, loudly and firmly.
Tisha squints as she looks at the book before her on the bed. The crafting of the new pins on springs that rises up but only allow the rotator to move at given pressure will change the whole way locks have to be crafted and keyed. If only the fine details in the picture were more specific.
She holds the book up and peers closer to it. Then stops and looks around.
The room she was in was draped in shadow, giving at a quite and peaceful feeling. With a sigh she puts the book down and stretches like a cat.
My when did it get dark? I should be getting ready to go out again... Wait... Wasn't I supposed to be doing something tonight?
She looks around the room intently for a moment, and seeing nothing that stands out, heads over to the dresser. Reaching near the bottom of the drawer extracts a small pouch from under the clothing.
Oh well, I suppose I should see what is in that warehouse tonight.
She tucks the pouch into her belt pouch and smoothly kneels down to grab the rope from under the bed when her eyes fall on the small scrap of parchment.
Oh Hells, the trap.
Leaving the rope where she is, she suddenly rushes around in a mad dash, pulling on her armor, and grabbing weapons. She then hurries out of the room, pausing only to lock the door behind her and then gliding quickly out the front of the inn.
The chance to find out where the money went is worth the risk.
On the street she slows down, pulling her cloak up to hide her features, and starts moving along in time with the people on the street. Walk stiffly - Tonight be just another human caravan guard in town between jobs.
As she heads to the Lancet Street she watches for anyone who might be following her, or heading to this same place.
Seeing a Dwarf just entering the building, Tisha pretends to be looking into a nearby shop window listening and watching what the dwarf does and if anyone else arrives.
A fortune teller. Could this be one of Desna's blessed with news of Gaedren? Is that how they know what I could not find?
1 rank +3 trained +2 wis+2 racial
Hearing the tread of dwarven feet and the clank of armor, Narciso turns to meet Ernhild before she speaks. His longspear falls to a ready position, as the lady dwarf approaches with warhammer in hand...
"I sent no note. But I did receive one, and there was another left here. I am Narciso, who are you?"
Briggi sighed after coming back from patrol. His plan of heading out right away was stopped by getting nabbed by the sergeant and given an extra patrol and now he was tired and he wanted to get to his cot, but he decided to just bite the nail and head out to this mysterious location.
Stumping down the dim street, Briggi let his darksight guide him as he arrived at the small home, he noticed a few other people enter and was rather wary about it and so hung around outside in order to see if things would break out into a brawl.
Guardsman? Is he watching the street or waiting to go in? Better to stay back and see what happens.
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Not a single muscle moves on Ernhild's face to betray an emotion, but she slightly lowers her weapon.
"Show me," she beckons the elf to pass her the note. She casually takes out eyeglasses from one of her pockets, holding them before her eyes like a loupe so she can read. She folds the note, and hands it back to Narciso.
"Ernhild," she finally introduces herself laconically.
She looks around, taking in her surroundings. Her brow furrows as she spots the burners, and even more when she examines the details of the tapestries. "Didn't expect a town house. Especially one not guarded."
What the Hell. I’m not doing anything the watch would think is wrong
Tisha moves down the street past the watchman and walks right in the front door.
Both of you insidesee a cloaked but clearly armed figure step into the room.
She lowers her dark blue hood revealing a female elf with pale skin and black hair pulled back in a braid. Her eyes flicker over both of you with brandished weapons and sweep around the room.
Then she steps to the side of the doorway and tosses her cloak over her left shoulder revealing a slim form clad in dark brown leathers. Her hand casually drops to rest lightly on a Rapier.
Interesting decor you have here. Most Elven soothsayers I’ve been to don’t lead with the black beast right away, but you know what works here I guess.
After Briggi entered too, an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman with long, dark hair enters from the street after him.
"Thank you, for accepting my invitation." She nods to each of the persons present to greet them by name. "Ernhild, Tisha, Narciso, Briggi, ... I'm Zellara."
She produces a set of Harrow Deck from the pocket of her coat and shuffles the cards idly. the cards seem to float and dance through
her fingers. "Please sit down." She points to the table that has five chairs around it. She takes one chair and waits for all to sit.
"Again, thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see — a vicious man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This man has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When Lamm’s pickpockets stole it, my son Eran tracked them down and returned my deck to me."
"But Gaedren had him followed, and soon after he left my home, Gaedren’s thugs murdered him. I sought help from the Korvosan Guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded — I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here, at Westpier 17, where he trains abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures."
"But I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if they were willing to help, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. And even if they arrested him, what guarantee would I have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are. It is time for him to pay."
She looks at each of you to see if there is the determination to follow through with this. "Are you in?"
Briggi enters behind the others and looks at them rather suspiciously. He had an inkling that they might be here for the same reason.
So why are all of you here? If you don't own this house or have business with the owner, you all best leave. Briggi makes sure they see his tin badge marking him a patrolman.
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Elbows on the table, Ernhild listens to Zellara's explanations with her hands clasped. When the Varisian woman is finished, she speaks. "How do you know our stories, then?" she asks evenly. "And where to find us?"
She spots Briggi's badge, and wordlessly rolls up her long sleeves, exposing her forearms. They are covered in old track marks -apparently healed, but still visible-, and even from afar, her hands appear to be trembling slightly. "Is that enough to answer your question?" she pulls down her sleeves back down in two smooth motions.
"You read the sign at the door? I'm good at what I'm doing."
I don't care how you know things about us. However leaving the note where you did? That was impressive. She gives the woman a calculating look, but then glances at Briggi and seems to change what she was about to say.
I don't know about the rest of them, but it is no secret that Gaedren took quite a bit of money from me. If what you say is true, I am very open to making him pay.
You say he has abducted children there too? That just makes me despise the viper more. If we can recover my money and make sure he pays for your son's murder - count me in for that.
Briggi enters behind the others and looks at them rather suspiciously. He had an inkling that they might be here for the same reason.
So why are all of you here? If you don't own this house or have business with the owner, you all best leave. Briggi makes sure they see his tin badge marking him a patrolman.
"I have an invitation" replies Narciso. "There is to be a meeting here of like-minded souls.... and I think that you're one of them else a lone patrolman wouldn't be entering a private business."
+2 wis
...
She looks at each of you to see if there is the determination to follow through with this. "Are you in?"
"To settle scores with Gaedren; oh yes, yes indeed I'm in. But can we trust you? I want more bona fides than just a story."
"You don't have to trust me. I tell you what I know, all the information I have and I can do a harrow reading for you to tell you what will come of this." Zellara replies.
"No promises from me, no obligations on you. I only ask, that you put an end to a horrible person, I know you despise."
"I'd appreciate it a lot if you joined, but if you think it is a set up of any kind, you're free to leave. I have no way to prove anything to you at this point."
"The forces of law and order are too," Ernhild retorts. She leans back in her chair. "Do your reading if you wish."
"Ha ha ha", Ernhild draws a snort of laughter from Narciso, "You're saying that in this town?"
Then he grows serious "All right, I'm guessing we've all got grudges against Gaedren: Zellara for her son, Ernhild for his shiver dealing, milady elf wants her money. I was one of his lambs, and he damn near killed me before I got out. What about you, tin whistle?" (It's clear from his manner, that that's Briggi)
***After Briggi's reply ***
"Ok, now that we've all ante'd up, I make you no promises Zellara, but you can do your reading and tell us what you know."
Fine then. Name is Briggi and one of my friend's kin seems to have fallen into Lamm's clutches. Solet's hear the reading.
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"The forces of law and order are too," Ernhild retorts. She leans back in her chair. "Do your reading if you wish.""Ha ha ha", Ernhild draws a snort of laughter from Narciso, "You're saying that in this town?"
"They decide what they turn a blind eye to. They might deem a group of vigilantes more dangerous to their interests than the dealings of Gaedren Lamm."
"Authority must seem unchallenged to stay legitimate, and men like Lamm who keep themselves busy with petty crimes are not its main concern. Those who usurp the power to deal justice always are."
If we are all agreed on doing this, then we should probably know a bit about what we bring to this effort.
Both of you Dwarflings look to be part of the watch? Maybe Patrolman she points at Briggi and Detective?. She switches to Ernhild. You seem to know too much about how the city works to be just a stone thumper.
Me, I'm Tisha. I used to be a Scout for the Kyonin milita. I can hold the line when I need to but I am far better at finding out what is over the next hill so that we can make a good plan. I am new to the city, but I’m learning quickly about how the humans work here.
Zellara you clearly seem to be a seer, hopefully you can provide us the information we need.
She looks over at Narciso and pauses and looks questionably at him before continuing.
And you Narisco, if you have been on the inside of Gaedren's operation, are you a pickpocket?
"No, no pickpocket here" replies Narciso, twinkling lights dancing over his fingers...
Zellara draws a card "Tisha... the Locksmith. This endeavour will be a key to a new destiny for you."
Another card "Narciso... the Peacock. The out come will lead to a sudden shift in your personal life."
Third "Briggi... the Juggler. Fate is on your side."
Fourth "Ernhild... the Dance. You'll manage to stay in harmony with your morals and values."
Then she lays out a spread. The Demon's Lantern, The Foreign Trader, The Bear. "In the past, you have been led out of dark places by a guiding light, you decided to make an informative pact, and learned that brute force is way to reign for good or for bad."
"In the present, The Teamster, The Trumpet, The Big Sky. You feel a driving external pressure, but you make a declaration power. But there is the danger of new shackles, that replace the old."
In the future... The Rakshasa, The Mute Hag, The Twin. Enslavement will be shaken off. A dangerous blood pact will be sealed and dark secrets will lead to despair. But you can turn the tides, for better or for worse."
situations where they need to be quick on their feet or
skilled with their hands. During this chapter, a character
can spend his Harrow Points in the following ways.
Dexterity Rerolls: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to
reroll an initiative check, Reflex save, attack roll modified
by Dexterity, or Dexterity-based check. The PC must abide
by the new result (although if he has additional Harrow
Points, he can use them for additional rerolls).
Dodge Bonus: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to gain a
+1 dodge bonus to his Armor Class for one encounter. He
can spend up to 3 Harrow Points per encounter to increase
his Armor Class in this manner.
Speed Increase: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to
increase his base speed by 10 feet for one encounter.
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"Both of you Dwarflings look to be part of the watch? Maybe Patrolman" she points at Briggi "and Detective?" She switches to Ernhild. You seem to know too much about how the city works to be just a stone thumper.
Almost imperceptibly, Ernhild twitches. "That's right. I'm a detective. I can psychically detect whose observation skills are lacking."
"In the past, you have been led out of dark places by a guiding light, you decided to make an informative pact, and learned that brute force is way to reign for good or for bad."
"In the present, The Teamster, The Trumpet, The Big Sky. You feel a driving external pressure, but you make a declaration power. But there is the danger of new shackles, that replace the old."
In the future... The Rakshasa, The Mute Hag, The Twin. Enslavement will be shaken off. A dangerous blood pact will be sealed and dark secrets will lead to despair. But you can turn the tides, for better or for worse."
"Very impressive," Ernhild looks unfazed. "I assume you have no way to prove that this wasn't rehearsed?"
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Zellara closes her eyes, puts her fingers of both hands on her temples and concentrates. "I sense a lot of skepticism in this room."
She opens her eyes again and smirks at Ernhild.
We live in a world with dwarves, elves and magical spell. So fortune telling that works isn't a stretch.
"Anyway, an old fishery north of here, at Westpier 17. And be careful not to be eaten by his pet crocodile."
"That's all the help I can offer for now. But if you are willing and able to solve this problem we share and you have found my readings to be helpful, I offer you to do that in the future for you for other occasions too." Before someone sceptical asks the obvious question Zellara adds "For free."
Ernhild, If Gaedren is in this old fishery, then does it matter if the reading was rehearsed? She has given us information to work off of for free. I suggest we go check it out. If the operation is there, that that is proof of what she says being potentially true.
Worst comes to worse you spend a bit of time, decide this woman is a fraud and never come back for her readings. You are no worse than you are now.
But more likely Gaedren is there. If we do this you help everyone get justice. Then with her future readings maybe learn a bit about what is happening from her cards. Sounds to me like we have nothing but the chance to gain here.
Let's go check it out then. I am sure we can at least find something to act upon. No doubt shoddy construction that we can nab him for.
The group leaves to check for themselves. After about 10 minutes of walking you are at the river at Westpier and you can see the creaking, decrepit building. The fishery is perched atop a steep embankment, with most of the structure extending out over the Jeggare River on wooden pilings. Though shabby, it will be a few years yet before its floors start to give way and its roof begins to crumble. The wooden doors are mottled with mold and grit, but remain solid. As the sun is already gone, it gets darker and darker.
Narciso looks at the fishery and then asks his companions "Do we stride boldly where angels fear to tread?"
Well I'm leary of going on the water in this armor. Briggi edges up to the door and tries to listen.
Behind the fishery is a boat moored at a pier. This pier starts at the front and leads behind the building. What other entrances are there can't be told without going there. Only the large main entrance at the front and the staff entrance on the left side of the building are easy to identify.
Besides the waves of the river splashing on the shore you hear a single bark from behind the door.
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Tisha hangs back as they see the fishery.
Narciso looks at the fishery and then asks his companions "Do we stride boldly where angels fear to tread?"
She replies in a whisper:
I would rather find out a bit about this place before we do anything rash. After all who knows what waits us in there. Want me to try to scout around?
Hearing the dog bark Tisha whispers excitedly: Oh a dog! They can't be all bad if they keep a dog.
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Ernhild hangs back, deep in thought, as the group leaves Lance Street. She reminisces about the circumstances that brought her to Abadar, the long, fruitless years she spent wishing for the shiver trade to curb, the human kid she left to die, alone, in the temple's infirmary. She knows that to step in on her own would be wrong ; she also knows that the bodies of the dead would keep piling up if she didn't.
Her steps become more resolute, and when the party approaches the fishery, she is walking alongside Briggi determinedly. If lives could be saved by getting her hands dirty, she would have to face the temple's judgment later.
"I doubt they're the puppy kind," Ernhild replies to Tisha. She nonchalantly reaches for her crossbow, and loads it.
The windows are boarded shut, and what little slits remain don't help much, as it is dark inside.
Guard dog no doubt. Briggi readies his warhammer.
Guard Dog? Oh…. Then approaching the front door would not be easy to do quietly. We either need a reason to approach in the open or see if we can find a way in that is not near the dog. She looks over at the fishery. I’m guessing the two big sets of doors we see are both near the dog.
Want me to look to see what I can see down one side of the building?
Tisha heads off to scout and see if she can find another entrance or window she can peer into. She is going slowly and checking for traps/alarms/loose or rotten boards etc. in case she needs to bring people back. She is scouting only, so will run if attacked, or sneak away if she trips anything, believes she has been discovered, the dog starts barking again or sees anything that looks dangerous.
She will start on the north side then report back, and then do the same on the south side if the north side is fine.
The two doors on the North side are locked. There are no windows in that wall. On the southern side there is only one door, which is also locked. At the end of the pier an old fish trawler is moored behind the fishery. From the looks of it, this ship hasn't been used for a while.
Tisha reports back.