"Well, it's been a very educational pleasure meeting you, but I have to go soon." He once again reaches into the hat, this time pulling out four burlap pouches that clink with the unmistakable jingling of coins as he drops them sequentially onto the table.
“Your eighty silver advance, as promised,” he declares. The women’s eyes momentarily bulge out of their heads before they regain their composure, and Neesa, the blonde one who had been dusting tables, surreptitiously adjusts the neckline of her shirt to the lower bounds of the possible.
He pushes them across the table one by one as you all line up to receive your advance pay.
"Be sure to show up at dock 6 in two days. We'll weigh anchor at noon, weather permitting."
“So where are you all staying?” Jenissa asks.
“I’m staying at the Proudmoore Inn in Southgate,” Captain Ferrino says. “And in point of fact, I’d best leave now if I want to get enough sleep. I have a great many preparations to make.” He replaces his hat upon his head and walks out into the night.
She turns to the rest of you expectantly.
“Do the rest of you have beds for the night? If not, perhaps you could stay here for the night? It’s only one silver.”
Marasina interjects irately. “Two silver. We’ll need to replace our silverware and get a new security system, thanks to these fellows.”
Neesa huffs angrily. “Two silver?! Installing that cut-rate garbage was your idea. It’s not their fault it went haywire. If you’d hired a bouncer we’d have had no problems, but finding one willing to come all the way out here was ‘too expensive,’ you said.”
Beginning to get worked up, she continues. “In fact, this whole thing was your idea. You got us all into this! Opening a tavern was your idea. Picking this awful, awful spot was your idea. Flames of Zemak!”
Lilindi interjects. “For two silver they can rent our rooms for the night.”
“Then where would you sleep?” Marasina inquires archly. Lilindi gives her a sly grin, and after a moment Marasina’s face widens in shock, then turns beet red.
Lillindi snorts in response. “You know, or ought to know, full well how Vanira was managing to bring in twenty times more in tips than the rest of us. I mean, you picked that ridiculous name. The 'Pink Conch'? I thought for sure you knew its... implications.”
"...Implications?" Marasina repeats uncomprehendingly.
Teesha giggles. “Vanira was single-handedly keeping this place afloat, despite your best efforts to sink it. You didn't think they were here for your potato soup, did you?” She sidles up to Syper and whispers in his ear,
Marasina, red from embarrassment and desperate to leave the conversation for calmer waters, turns to Jade. “Thank you for healing my employee, irritating as she may be. For your service, room and board are on me.”
She then turns to regard the goblin quizzically. "Perhaps there's a cupboard where you might be comfortable? No charge."
"It's been a pleasure," Jaym'row purrs at everyone. "I look forward to adventuring with you all." She frowns slightly and glances at Kork but does not amend her statement.
She opens her pack, which has been sitting next to her chair, and pulls out a somewhat worn violin and bow. She plays a lively tune and dances as she plays. If others stay to listen, she segues from the jig to a sea ballad, which she sings with a clear soprano.
"Who'll make his mark?" the captain cried
"To the devil drink a toast
We'll glut the hold with cups of gold
And we'll feed the sea with ghosts
I see your hunger for a fortune
Could be better served beneath my flag
If you've the stomach for a broadside
Come aboard my pretty boys
I will take you and make you
Everything you've ever dreamed."
She sang on accompanying herself on her fiddle, telling a tale of sea battles, treasures won, license filled liberty at a pirate port, and the inevitable sailing back out to sea, finishing thusly.
On the flood of the morning tide
Once more the ocean cried
"This company will return one day
Though we feel your tears it's the price we pay
For there's prizes to be taken and glory to be found
Cut free the chains make fast your souls
We are El Dorado bound...
I will take you for always forever together
Until hell calls our names..."
"Who'll drink a toast with me
To the devil and the deep blue sea?
Gold drives a man... to dream!"
Credit.
When she finishes, she excuses herself to go find her room.
Okoteck nods in satisfaction at the contract and signs the contract.
"I will make certain to be there, Captain," he says as Ferrino leaves.
He turns to the staff of the 'tavern'. "I'm afraid I already have a room reserved and paid for elsewhere. But I believe the meal deserves a tip."
He withdraws a silver coin from his advance pay and sets it on the table, then looks at his crewmates-to-be. "It occurs to me that we might discuss mutual preparations. The expedition seems well-supplied, but if we are to operate detached for a time, additional healing supplies and ammunition would not be amiss. For my own part, I will be purchasing additional writing supplies and notebooks. Such a long expedition will involve quite a bit of documentation!"
Jade also signs the contract with a flourish and takes her advance pay from the captain.
At Marasina's offer, she smiles and nods her thanks. "I wasn't looking forward to walking all the way back to my flat after dark. My powers are more than sufficient to protect me from any ne'er-do-wells, but they're awfully dramatic and the constabulary likes to get involved."
"Mr. Tomu, making some mutual preparations sounds wise. For example, I was thinking a shield would be wise for protection out in the field, but they tend to get beat up rather quickly and I'm no great shakes when it comes to crafting anything that doesn't involve knots. Do any of you have experience with field repairs?" she asks the group.
Marasina pockets Okoteck's coin with an appreciative smile and nod, face still flushed but recovering quickly. "Very well. Enjoy your evening!"
She turns to Jade. "The rooms are through that door and up the stairs. Yours is the first one on the right!"
As Jaym'row strikes up her tune, the staff clap and dance along, merrily forgetting their peril from minutes before.
After awhile, the tune ends, the serving girls finish sweeping up the silverware (carefully setting aside any pieces still in usable condition), and disperse to begin the process of closing down for the night as the newest crewmen of the Hellion's Cry discuss their shopping plans.
She pats the matress beside her with a hand and giggles. "Come here and help me put these candles out."
Syper listens and shrugs. "I don't get beds that often otherwise, and soon I'll be in another hammock on another boat." He presses two silvers into Teesha's palm and gives her a whisper back.
"What happened to Vanira, anyway?"
He listens along to Jaym'row's shanty, applauds her performance. He gives her a conspiratorial wink and laughs. As she departs, Syper nods and chuckles to himself.
Visibly relaxed, he adds, "Marasina, I'll take some of that potato soup, if it's still on offer."
Listening to his new companions' strategy, he responds, "Okoteck, that'll work out well. And Jade, I can keep myself well off in shields, as you could see, but I suppose like you, I'm more used to getting a rope to do as I ask instead of repairing a wooden shaft in the field. It's cold in Thalis, isn't it? We'll want winter gear and a source of fire."
"I've a bit of skill with repairs, and even a spot of forging," Okoteck volunteers. "I spent some time pestering some smiths, you see, and managed to get enough instruction out of them that not everything I practiced on broke as soon as you used it."
He caws a laugh. "It won't look nice if I have to fix it, but I can get it working, in summary. So we'll want to plan on any tools or materials we'd need for repairs... hmm..."
Marasina brightens. "Coming right up!" She heads into the kitchen and begins banging pots and pans around.
Teesha giggles.
"I'm not as well built or experienced as she is, but I'll make up for it with enthusiasm. My room is upstairs, third one on the left. I'll be waiting."
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She then turns to regard the goblin quizzically. "Perhaps there's a cupboard where you might be comfortable? No charge."
The goblin narrows his eyes at the woman in return. The facade turns into a neutral one shortly after. He takes a breath. "Kork forgive Tap-girl her bad manners. Tap-girl improve by morning, and Kork not scold her. Deal?"
He walks to the pile of silverware on the floor and picks up the fork with the most bent tines before returning back to the table. He counts 8 silver from his pouch, puts it on the table in front of Marasina. "Kork want food, drink, bath, and bed. Extra is for this." the goblin lifts the bent fork, almost poking his eye with it. "Kork keep this one to hunt were-beasts."
After she leaves, presumably to pick up his food and drink, he leans over the table and slides the fork towards Okoteck. "Okoteck good with tools? Can fix Kork's fork?" after a short delay, he chuckles at the rhyme. "Silver bad for some beasties."
"I'd need a proper forge, which I don't exactly have access to at the moment, and I rather doubt we'll have aboard the ship," Okoteck replies, with an apologetic clack of his beak. "Perhaps when we reach our destination we'll be able to set one up? Regardless, silvered weapons are generally made with an alchemical process to bind silver to steel, as silver on its own doesn't hold an edge well. It is, unfortunately, not an alchemical process I'm familiar with. About the best that could maybe be done with a piece of silver like this to weaponize it would be to make a rough knuckleguard with it for punching."
"Well, gentlemen, I think I'm going to turn in for the night. I'll see you at Dock 6," Jade says and heads to her room.
The next day, she plans on going to the market for the following:
- Steel Shield
- Repair Kit
- 3 sets of winter clothing
- Eagle Eye Elixir (Lesser)
- Holy Water
Jade will spend the rest of her time saying her goodbyes to Maheem and his family and the other sha'irs she trained with, packing up what possessions she isn't taking with her to stay in storage with a friend, and letting her flatmates and landlady know of her impending voyage and say farewell before shouldering her pack and heading to the docks.
Syper enjoys his potato soup, bids everyone good evening, and heads upstairs.
No need to go into the details of Teesha and Syper's escapades, but he would like to take the opportunity to learn more about town, where the best shops are, what brings her to the Pink Conch, and, ideally, deflect any questions about the eyepatch. DM if you like so we don't interrupt the flow for everyone.
The next morning, looking somehow both more refreshed and more haggard, thanks the staff for the lodging, then hits the shops.
2x Winter Clothing (8sp)
Fishing Tackle (8sp)
Smoke Ball (3gp)
Glue Bomb (3gp)
Rope (5sp)
Playing Cards (5sp)
Climbing Kit (5sp)
Mirror (1gp)
Had 6gp left over at the start, now at 37sp.
Jaym'row gets up early the next morning, dressed in a long coat with its hood up. She leaves before most people are on the street and makes her way by a meandering path around to various shops. Her first stop is at a shop that caters to thespians and play producers, selling wigs, wardrobes, props, and make-up.
She puts together a kit that she instantly uses to disguise herself. She puts on a black wig and hat that disguise her prominent ears. A cloth mask covers her lower face, the kind often used during times of plague risk or by individuals unusually susceptible to infections. The kit includes a cloth bag that attaches to her long coat into which she inserts her tail, keeping it from view. It makes her feel awkward but it was much harder to recognize her race. Finally she has coverings for her hands and feet. Her shirt and full skirt hide the shape of her legs.
Moving out in disguise, she visits shop after shop, picking up a variety of mostly inexpensive items she thinks will be useful while away from civilization. Things like candles, torches, matches, a bedroll, and small tent, plus a backpack to carry all the items. She goes to shop that specializes in the things necessary or useful for people heading into the wilderness, where she picks up some things to keep her warm in cold weather, a compass, and a pair of snowshoes. Finally, she picks up a few small, easily concealable weapons.
Total Cost: 15.61 gp, Bulk: 3.8, Current coinage: 4 silver, 9 coppers.
After this trip, she removes the disguise and stays in the Pink Conch. She earns enough coin to pay for the room and meals by entertaining customers with her music.
The morning the Hellion’s Cry is scheduled to depart, Jaym'row gets up early, settles accounts, dons her disguise, and heads out around dawn to locate the ship. Then she reports for boarding when she sees activity and lays low in the docks until then.
With a soft sigh, the goblin puts the bent fork on the table, takes his mug, finishes his drink, and starts 'ironing' the silver fork.
In the meantime, he steps into the conversation now and then when his tongue is not poking out of his mouth, just like a child focusing on a task. "I suppose Okoteck not so hot with craft? It be fine - mastering a craft take time. Look at Kork, for example. A spectacular orator, collect stories, share with world. Tribe never invent writes, so goblins remember history with talk." he taps his temple twice. "All good stories here, but it take time. Kork old goblin now. 21 last year!" he sighs and ponders something, but his hands keep working the fork.
When he is done ironing, he lifts it up to check. He turns it around a few times, and pulls out a dagger to divide the tines further. When he's done, he lifts it up again. In the dark, if you close one eye, squint the other, and you touch the sharp end against your palm, you could probably wonder whether it's a fork. Probably. But Kork is happy, and shoves the thing into his coat, next to the rat tails.
"Kork go shopping tomorrow. Okoteck come with? Or anyone else? Kork teach haggling. Like a few minutes ago, when Kork almost got nice hat from Feathers." he smiles.
Starknife (to substitute my 2 handed weapon)
Cold weather clothing
Fishing tackle
Signal whistle
Long tool (Shovel)
Compass
Short tool 2x (Ice saw and ice hook)
All in all leaves me with 1 gp, 1 silver, 2 copper
There's a spark of humor in Okoteck's dark eyes as he accepts Kork's invitation. "I shall be fascinated to observe your expertise," he says solemnly. "I'm afraid I'm a mere dabbler when it comes to metalwork. Simply one of my passing fancies, not something I've studied extensively."
While Okoteck does accompany Kork, he also takes time to shop on his own. He isn't quite so fascinated with the goblin that he wants to see what Kork would do in a store full of inks and papers. Okoteck make certain to purchase some cold-weather equipment, but more importantly he stocks up on writing supplies. There's going to be a lot to take notes on over the course of such a long expedition.
Repair Kit (2 gp)
2x Winter Clothing (8 sp)
Pup Tent (8 sp)
2x blank book (2 gp)
I'm trying to find something waterproof for storing his books and papers in?
That's 61 sp so far, leaving 19 sp plus the 15 sp 8 cp he had left that I apparently forgot to add to his sheet here on Paizo.
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The city docks are a-bustle with activity, unusually busy for this time of year. However, the Dandolon family’s berth is the only one in dock 6 currently occupied. The Hellion’s Cry, a frigate twenty feet wide and seventy feet long (not counting the prow), awaits your journey.
The warehouses abutting the dock are rather run-down, but serve their purpose. Two stevedores are in the process of rebalancing one of the counterweight-driven cranes used to load heavy cannon and similar items onto the ship. Two other stevedores walk up and down the gangway connecting the ship to the dock, carrying crates of lighter fare that were piled up at its terminus. It appears that very little remains to be loaded.
A wiry human male in his late thirties stands beside the staircase that leads up to the raised dock itself, which stretches 75 feet into the sea. He motions to you all, and you gather around.
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“Hail and well met!” he offers breezily. “I’m Sebasthin Cyranno, the cox’n. Most of the rest of the crew is out whoring or gambling away their advance pay while the stevedores finish loading. The exceptions are behind you.”
He turns around and waves to two men standing on the deck of the ship. They wave back gruffly. One, a dwarf carrying a heavy mallet, nods, then heads belowdecks, mouthing something too faint to hear at this distance. The other, Captain Ferrino, waves back, then returns to his inspection of the horizon.
“The dwarf is Thorvaldur Hrolfsson, the ship’s blacksmith. No ship can do without one; there are far too many fiddly metal bits holding that thing together to voyage safely otherwise.”
Sebasthin nods at Ferrino.
“And obviously you’ve met the captain.”
He glances at each of you in turn. “I’m pretty sure I know what you do. If you’re wondering what it is I do, I steer the ship wherever the navigator tells me, and am paid a pretty penny for knowing the ways of the wind better than Stormlord Kassassi himself.”
He sticks a finger into the wind for a moment, then adds, “The wind won’t be right for us to back out of port for a good half-hour, which is more than enough time to finish loading and for the rest of these useless loot-sponging bastards to get done wetting their cox’ns.”
He chuckles, letting you know that his assessment of the crew is in jest, before gesturing to the ship itself.
“She’s a beauty, all right. Ten cannons to see off anyone fool enough to try us, sails made of Thedalian runecotton that are almost impossible to burn and very hard to tear, even in high winds, and an extradimensional larder that keeps its contents in temporal stasis until needed. We can stave off scurvy with fresh fruit without making constant stops, and have room to stretch and breathe belowdecks.”
He turns to face each of you in turn and says,
“So, what brings you lot to go to such lengths for gold? Or is it even gold you’re after?”
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"I was born and raised on a pirate ship, so I've developed quite the thirst for treasure. That would be enough on its own, but that's not the only reason. My father's ship, the Stormweaver, has been missing her scheduled arrival in Eredorn by about a month now, and there was a storm up north right around the time they would have been passing through. If there's any chance they might have been blown north off the map, then I'd like to see for myself if possible," Jade says, trying to keep the concern out of her voice.
A pained expression briefly flits across Cyranno's face. "Sad to hear he's in trouble. Of course, he's gotten out of much worse; he once sailed his ship clear through a planar bleed, or so the stories say."
The goblin walks up to the man, grinning ear to ear. "Kork looking for stories to know. New ones. Cryptic land up north seem like good start."
A short pause later he adds "Nothing more for Kork here." and his grin disappears, instead a little sadness shows, but immediately disappears when he looks up at the ship, and sees the crow's nest on the mast. "Can Kork sleep in basket?"
A pained expression briefly flits across Cyranno's face. "Sad to hear he's in trouble. Of course, he's gotten out of much worse; he once sailed his ship clear through a planar bleed, or so the stories say."
Jade smiles warmly. "Yeah, he's pretty good at getting through by the seat of his pants. Kork, if you're looking for stories, you'll love the one about the planar bleed. It happened before I was born, so I'll just have to tell it the way he tells it..."
She takes a deep breath as if about to begin, then releases it with a sigh. "But there's no way to do it justice in half an hour standing stone sober on the docks. I'll tell it during downtime some day at sea when we've all had a few shots of rum."
While waiting, Jade pulls out a length of cord around a foot long from her pocket and idly ties and unties various knots in it by feel, keeping her eyes alert to her surroundings.
Okoteck notes with humor that only on the Free Isles would news of a pirate being in trouble be met with concern rather than joy. After all, other nations call their pet pirates privateers instead.
"That basket is oft called a crow's nest, so I expect there will be questions about it being my own accomodation," the tengu tells Kork. Someone familiar with reading tengu expressions would be able to see the smile in his expression, but to most of those not blessed with beaks only the tone of his voice would give his humor away. "But the truth is it is a place for waking watching, not resting, so we had best hope that no one is asleep there."
He turns his head toward Sabasthin in a swift, avian motion. "I am Okoteck Tomu, and as for my reasons, there are treasures far more valuable than gold or gems, and being one of the first explorers to a land long inaccessible gives me great opportunity to gather them. All that remains to be seen is what exactly they shall be."
Syper worries at a short reed in his hand for a moment before it disappears back up his sleeve. He straightens up and returns to the conversation with a smirk.
"Nothing wrong with working for a bit of coin, is there?" he starts. "But I've found it works far better to simply keep on the move, and there's no better way to do that than the open seas, and exploration to faraway lands!"
He holds out his hand. "The name's Syper. I've been sailing for the past year. I know the ropes, this life suits me."
"Suuure..." the goblin puts on a serious facade. "Kork probably not sleep... DURING DUTY." he says slowly. "Kork mean after duty." with a looooong, hanging 'A'.
"But Kork sleep well. Not care for footsteps and whatnot. Can stay in bask-" he clears his throat ”bird nest in free time?"
The coxswain takes in their introductions politely, nodding at Okoteck, expressing interest in eventually hearing Jade's tale and shaking Syper's hand when offered. Then, in a manner that Kork must find routine by now, he stares at the goblin thaumaturge in mild bafflement for several beats before replying.
"I... don't see why not."
He turns to Jaym'row, just barely resisting the urge to look her up and down. "So what's your story?" he asks, giving her his most charming grin.
Jaym'row, who by this time has removed her disguise, points to her ears and wags her tail. "Curiosity. They say it kills more of us than not. I've been working the bar entertainment circuit," and she pulls her violin half out of its slot in her backpack, "and it's boring me to tears. I'm tired of telling the same old tall tales. I'd like a collection of my own. I'll be happy to gain some treasure at the end of it, of course. Can't live on stories alone. I understand ships like having a fiddler aboard and someone to lead the crew in some lively shanties. I know quite a few. And I'll hold my own in a fight." She pats her rapier and bow. "I believe we are supposed to ask if we have permission to come aboard, so have we?"
She resists the temptation glance at the streets along the dock to see if any gangs of dwarves, elves, or foreigners are looking for her.
Syper chuckles at Jaym'row's answer. "In my experience, boredom kills far more than curiosity. This voyage will be good for both of us."
Surprised by the sudden reveal of her feline features, and impressed by her rapier and bow, the cox'n nods appreciatively.
"You're a dangerous woman, blind me," he affirms.
"Not as dangerous as me," intones a calm, collected voice.
A human male brandishing a wicked-looking sword steps out from behind a pile of boxes beside the door of the closest warehouse.
“You!” groans Cyranno. “Bastard, I thought we were done with you!”
The man grimaces. “Your captain had his chance to pay us, friend. The time for games is past. And most of your friends aren’t here.”
At that moment the man’s gaze falls upon Jaym’row and Syper, and he grins unpleasantly.
“You two won't have the misfortune of dying from boredom. We'll make sure of that” he says.
“We?” Cyranno’s brow furrows in confusion.
The grinding of crossbows being wound alerts you to danger from above as the man with the sword makes his sudden attack.
Initiative Order:
Old Kork, 23
Cyranno, 21
Okoteck, 20
Jade, 18
Syper, 17
Jaym'row, 16
Crossbowmen, 14
Bandit, 12
Kork observes the exchange with a curious look on his face. He squints both his eyes in an agitated manner, and puts his hand on his new weapon.
Looking at the man that approached, he unstraps the starknife. "If not sleep in basket tonight, maybe eat juicy liver as compensation? Yum... Yum..." he speaks with a sinister tone, saliva dripping on the floor underneath his feet.
He makes a quick motion with his hand as the blades on the weapon swoosh rhythmically.
The goblin's frightful affect and hideous grin clearly rattle the ringleader.
Then Kork's thrown starknife twirls end over end to strike the ruffian in the shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain. It then clatters to the pavement.
The two nearest stevedores, who were balancing the crane, leap into the water and move under the dock to get cover. The two further stevedores clamber hastily onto the ship and disappear into the rigging.
The cox'n sidles up next to the bench, taking cover from the crossbowmen, then yells a battle command to Okoteck.
"Boredom? We?"
Syper looks up to the roof and realizes what he means. "Oh, hello!" He wryly grins as he spins and calls out melodiously, "Awfully lonely up there, don't you think? Please, come join us! We'll have a wonderful time."
His voice takes on a sonorous quality, headying, singing, but not even singing as much as disarming. Thoughts of seagulls, the crashing waves of the ocean, the lovely beckoning of a voice inside a shell.
"How curious. Another human who can't count," Okoteck comments as he draws his blade and steps up to the man. He feints with his blade while making an arcane sign with his left, then croaks a word of power as he slashes in earnest, flames suddenly bursting from his blade.
Okoteck's sword gouges a deep furrow into the ringleader's chest, its heat peeling through the leather armor like the skin of a grape. The blade, ensorcelled with fiery power, releases a blast of searing flames that fells him where he stands.
Jade rolls her eyes. "Don't bring a crossbow to a lightning bolt fight." She concentrates ◆ and her kinetic aura flares to life, and sends a bolt of lightning ◇ towards the crossbowman on the roof.
Then she points a finger at the roof and sends a flurry of heavy snow ◆◆ up like a geyser, and within seconds there is a heavy snow drift covering the crossbowman and the roof around him.
The cox'n sidles up next to the bench, taking cover from the crossbowmen, then yells a battle command to Okoteck.
A blast of electric potential arcs from Jade's hands and into the chest of the crossbowman on the roof. His hair extends comically from his head for a moment and there is a sharp crack as his sweat boils away instantly inside his armor, escaping with a hiss.
A sudden and inexplicable blizzard bursts into being upon the roof. The snowdrift, imbued with supernatural cold, slams into the reeling crossbowman, burying him in frost. He does not get up again.
Syper steps forward and utters a command girded with mystic force. The crossbowman on the sidewalk raises his left foot and prepares to move towards the bard before snapping out of it at the last second, resisting the spell by the thinnest of margins.