Vildran sighs as the engagement breaks down.
Very well, we'll leave you be.
He shuffles back out of the dry dock to hear Sidonie's suggestion.
Yes, a walk sounds nice. The pier is as good as any other option.
He breaths deeply and takes in the slightly-salt-flavored air, listening for seagulls. Vildran is ready to put his bad idea to come to this place behind them.
With no useful information to be gleaned, Autumn finishes with a tight smile and follows Vildran out. Catching up with Sidonie, she opines “So unhelpful. If we want to find out anything about the Thassilonian ship, we’ll have to do so directly.” She seems resigned to her fate, but also strangely determined now that she’s accepted it. She eyes the boat, then ventures “Do you want to talk our way on, or sneak aboard?”
Thinking sneaking onboard the ship sounds, or could be construed to appear a lot like piracy, Sidonie says "Why don't we just go say 'hello'."
Autumn promptly nods in agreement—she would much rather waltz in through the front door than sneak in through the back. “Just back me up,” she tells Sidonie. “San’s parents told me he’s interested in all things Thassilon, so that could be our way in. Vildran,” she turns to the academic, unaware of his interest in the Runelords, “do you think you could also pretend to be a scholar interested in Thassilonian culture?”
Once the party has agreed on an approach, the sorceress walks up to the gangplank of the Swordfish and hails a sailor. “Hello,” she calls and gives a friendly wave, “that’s a fine vessel you’ve got there.”
The older man seems relieved to see you go, and stays watching the door until you're fully out of sight. You can hear him grumbling to himself as you walk away.
At the Swordfish a sandy-haired sailor leans over the edge of the railing and whistles as he sees Autumn approaching the gangplank. He calls down with a smile "Right you are. The pride of our fleet and a lovely ship. Though, not as lovely as you Miss. May I have your name?" He lingers expectantly for a moment before you hear another sailor that's out of view bark out a laugh and shout "Damn you Faran, leave the local girls alone!"
“do you think you could also pretend to be a scholar interested in Thassilonian culture?”
Vildran gets a wry smile and pats a book under his arm.
I think I can do that.
He can't hold the bit very long, not being a performer, and quickly concedes.
Actually, Thassilon is a subject of particular interest to me. My stint in Sandpoint is something of a field residency for uncovering new artifacts and clues of their ancient civilization in the area. So, I am certainly interested in their presence here.
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"Right you are. The pride of our fleet and a lovely ship. Though, not as lovely as you Miss. May I have your name?"
Vildran grimaces and mutters under his breath just loud enough for the party to hear.
I wonder how safe we're going to be here. We best keep aware of sailors' intentions.
Clearing his throat to draw their attention away from her, he calls out
Say, do you all give tours of the "fine vessel"?
Sidonie waves as well.
"Hello up there! Yes please, can we see the ship? It's the most beautiful one I think I've ever seen."
There might be a slightly competitive edge in Sidonie's voice as she makes the request.
Autumn bats her lashes at the sandy-haired sailor and answers coyly to his request for a name. “You may. It’s only fair since your friends have given yours. Faran, please call me Autumn.” She embellishes her response with a playful curtsy, then glances back at her companions. Although she expects Sidonie to be charismatic, she is pleasantly surprised by Vildran’s skillful tone and diplomatic request. Together with his unexpected interest in and knowledge about Thassilon, he is turning out to be quite an asset.
“A tour would be lovely,” she chimes in with an eager voice. “I’d be ever so grateful.”
San let's the more eloquent of the group make the request while he stands behind them attempting to suppress his excitement at seeing one of the New Thasselon ships up close.
“Sounds like a good idea to me. It’s at least as likely to give us a lead as he is. And maybe the Thassilonians will be a little friendlier.” Bastiano follows Sidonie out to check out the big ship.
“Let’s hope they give us that tour. Can you tell whether it’s a merchant ship or military?”
"Tours?" Faran looks bemused as he leans over the railing "You've got a lot of friends Miss Autumn. Well normally I wouldn't be able to give a tour, since we're always busy on official business. But since we're here waiting... well, I suppose it can't hurt. I can always make an exception for a lovely lady." With a tilt of his head he beckons you aboard. As you ascend the gangplank however, he takes a moment to look pointedly at the rest of the group - especially those that didn't speak up to announce their interest in the "tour".
Once you're up on deck, you see you've attracted the interest of the idle sailors, who've interrupted a game of cards and some whittling to eye you as you come aboard. Unlike Faran, who's on the younger and more slim side, the rest of the sailors are hardened sorts that look to have many years of experience under their belts. Faran extends his arms wide and says "Welcome to the Swordfish!" as the rest largely seem to be looking on with wariness and disapproval. They particular seem unhappy to see those of you who are more visibly armed.
That doesn't slow Faran though, who follows his welcome with a bow to Autumn, and then another to Sidonie. He continues with "The Swordfish is one of Xin-Edasseril's finest, as are its crew. Let me show you around the deck! And you Miss Autumn, tell me about Iron Harbor. We've had precious little time to explore the town, and I'd love to hear all about it from a local. It's, ah, quite charming."
Vildran grimaces at the very unwelcoming stares of the crew, but he's thankful for Faran's innocent naivety.
Just one thread through all of the rooms, then we're on our way...
He's certainly going to let Autumn answer for their (very limited) experiences in Iron Harbor, as that is who this eager young sailor wants to interact with.
As they move along, he takes a quick moment to take in this room and see if there's anything noteworthy about it.
“Thank you ever so much,” Autumn responds warmly when Faran invites them aboard. “This is San and Bastiano,” she introduces the two quieter members of the group in a a reassuring voice. “They’re a little standoffish, and perhaps a bit odd, but they’re harmless and mean well,” she adds in a low voice to excuse their behavior. “Please humor them for my sake.”
She hesitates ever so briefly when the sailor asks about Iron Harbor, but quickly decides that telling the truth about their arrival would be more awkward and garner more questions than simply going along with his assumption about her locality. “Such a gentleman!” she gushes when Faran pays a compliment to Iron Harbor. “But it’s just a small village, and not a particularly interesting one at that. Nothing like the arrival of a grand ship like yours,” she responds with the tone of a self-effacing local. Nonetheless, she provides a brief tour, sprinkled with the gossip one might find in a small town.
“That’s the dry dock,” she points out, “but I wouldn’t recommend having any ship serviced there. Old Man Froderson is pretty cranky unless you catch him on a good day, and there aren’t many of those. You’d be better off buying some basic supplies from Elsie,” her finger swivels to the large red-roofed building, “and just fixing the boat yourself. She’s a sweetie, and she bakes the best muffins!” Her eyes shine with a genuine fondness for the one local (okay, they haven’t met that many, but still) who has offered a friendly welcome.
“But what about you?” she deftly shifts the subject. “Of course we’re all wondering why such a splendid ship would visit Iron Harbor—you can imagine the wild theories we must have. Perhaps you could give me the inside scoop on the ‘official business’ that brings you here?” The sorceress coyly bats her eyelashes.
San nods as he's introduced but remains quiet. He's a little disappointed that the ship seems to be just a normal ship. No magic anything floating around that he can see.
Looking around the deck, Vildran doesn't see anything unusual. Certainly there's no obvious maps or documents lying about. The impression he gets of the other sailors nearby is that they're not happy to have you on board, but they don't seem like they'll break out into outright hostility. Faran seems the only one less hostile.
Faran makes a show of listening intently to Autumn, making the appropriate noises as she points out the various spots around town. At the mention of Elsie's he adds "Oh, I've heard of those. A couple of the guys took a shore jaunt and picked them up. I would love to try one. Maybe, the next time you visit, we share one?"
"As for us, well, just between you and me, we're here-" Faran's eyes go wide as a door to the interior cabin swings open and a serious looking woman in a long coat and battered hat comes out. She raises one hand to rub at her temple as she grimaces at Faran from across the deck. He only manages a "Uh, well, I-" before she says "You? It seems you want to be left here on shore permanently after all."
He takes a step back as she turns her attention on your group "I couldn't help but overhear you asking about our business here in Iron Harbor. My name is Janis. Please rest assured that if you're simply travelers coming through, you have nothing regarding our business to worry about. However, it seems to me that you come in rather suspicious circumstances. I suggest you explain what brings you here to Iron Harbor. And the truth this time, not some stories for little boys." She grimaces as she looks over the group of you.
He takes a step back as she turns her attention on your group "I couldn't help but overhear you asking about our business here in Iron Harbor. My name is Janis. Please rest assured that if you're simply travelers coming through, you have nothing regarding our business to worry about. However, it seems to me that you come in rather suspicious circumstances. I suggest you explain what brings you here to Iron Harbor. And the truth this time, not some stories for little boys." She grimaces as she looks over the group of you.
Sometimes we're stuck with the truth.
Confronted by an intimidating authority figure, Bastiano babbles nervously. "A priestess did. Bring us here, I mean. As her bodyguards on her voyage to Iron Harbor. She was asked to help deal with this recent plague. And when we got here, we saw your ship - which we were told arrived right before the plague started. You can't ask a disease questions - at least, I can't - and it isn't something people can really see and point to, but you can ask people questions about a visiting ship. So we did, because isn't everything connected to everything else anyway? And besides, New Thassilon is interesting! Are you a New Thassiloner or an Old Thassiloner?"
Despite her continued sternness, you get the sense that you've calmed some degree of suspicion from her.
Finally speaking up, San says matter-of-factly, "The Gorumites took her to see her pen pal up at Stonehome." He gestures in the general direction of the building. "They made it clear they didn't want us following right behind them." Pausing for a moment, he continues, "I'd find it surprising if you didn't know about the spreading illness. The cases we've seen a few days voyage away had some bruising in the vague shape Thassalonian runes. Perhaps that isn't supposed to be a widely known fact..." He trails away as he speaks before he fully processes what he's said.
Like an alcoholic reaching for a drink, Autumn’s instinct is to lie her way out of virtually any situation, for better or for worse. But before she can formulate an appropriate tale, Bastiano intervenes with the truth. Knowing that her eyes would stare daggers at the babbling investigator, and thus give her thoughts away, she consciously avoids looking at him. As San chimes in, she keeps her face calm and measured, focusing her attention upon Janis. Observing the stern woman’s receptiveness to frankness and her distaste for flattery, Autumn quickly changes tack and joins the conversation.
“My name is Autumn,” she begins simply, returning the Thassilonian’s favor of a basic introduction, before laying her cards on the table in an unusually straightforward fashion. “The Gorumite who met us—Sister Vanda—was less than welcoming. It’s rather difficult to ask questions from the source when you’re prohibited from even visiting it. We heard that some Thassilonians are at Stonehome, and given the nature of the bruising,” here she gestures towards San, in reference to the strangely rune-shaped bruises, ”we were concerned.”
The sorceress pauses, letting the comment hang as she ponders how to proceed, then decides to risk it all, continuing straight ahead into a fiercely open exchange. “Frankly, we were worried that you might react like the Gorumites—or worse. But if you have nothing to hide, we should help each other—your colleagues at Stonehome might be in danger. And no,” she preemptively half-raises a hand to forestall any objection, “this isn’t false altruism to gain your favor. If your people fall sick, that affects everyone else stuck on this island, and I have no intention of dying from this disease—or worse.” She looks about, then lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Those who die are erased from the minds of the living. This is no ordinary disease.”
Janis seems worried by the news you bring, and satisfied that you've laid out your position clearly. It seems to Autumn that she's being truthful in return. Janis beckons you. "I have some information to share, but it would be better to give it to you in private. Please follow me."
She leads you back to the cabin and inside to a room dominated by a wooden table and tall backed chairs. The light within is dim, available only through a small porthole at the far end and the hallway leading back to the deck. Janis lights a lantern and gestures for you to sit. She stays standing as she explains "The truth for the truth then. We too came as an escort. For an official, rather than a priestess, and but an ordinary run-of-the-mill trip if there ever was one. It was meant to be a simple stop for a day or two. However our charge was escorted to Stonehome and did not return. After several days, my Captain and two of our crew decided to investigate the reason for the delay and went to Stonehome as well. Now they too are missing. No one answers our questions, and the Gorumites and townsfolk say they have not seen Captain Perrios at all." She scowls "At this point I've begun to think they're all plotting together. From the way you speak of this illness there's clearly something unpleasant afoot, but to be honest, all I'm looking for now is to get my Captain back on the ship and get away from here. I expect your priestess may have fallen into the same trap."
San smirks with a resigned kind of exhalation. "I guess we know the next stop then. So much for waiting for tomorrow morning..." Turning to Janis, "You wouldn't happen to have a representative you want to send along? I mean, all we really know about each other is that we both have someone at Stonehome we want back."
From her seat at the cabin table, Autumn gives Bastiano a somewhat surprised, approving look. She had not expected complete honesty to be so rewarding, but it appears that the investigator’s initiative has led to a wealth of information and a potential ally. She’ll have to remember this for the future.
With a nod acknowledging thanks to Janis, the sorceress suggests continuing trading truths. “Seriously, I think it’s best if we combine everything we know before going to Stonehome.” She pauses, then recounts what else she knows that may be of use.
“So, the conspiracy isn’t complete, not even among the Gorumites. Our priestess was invited here by a Brother Blanton, about a week ago, to help against the disease—and the Gorumite who greeted us was not happy to hear that. So the Gorumites aren’t all united—though Blanton’s letter suggests that he might be the only one who isn’t.” Autumn thinks for a moment, then asks “When did you arrive, and what did they tell you about the disease? And, if you can, what kind of official did you escort, and what was their business? I’m wondering if there might be some connection we’re not seeing,” she explains. “For example, our priestess’s first boat was attacked a group of dero, on behalf of someone named Zaiox, and some of the victims had the same symptoms. We suspect there’s a link, but don’t know what. Do you have any ideas?”
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Mostly Sidonie quietly stews over Autumn's reception aboard the ship compared to her own, which she feels has been roughly analogous to a barrel of fish heads. Obviously (to Sidonie) it's because Autumn is such a glutton for attention.
By extension a couple of decisions rankles her as well. The first one is Autumn's seeming need to lean into extravagant lies as the go-to solution for any situation, first Froderson and then the ship's crew for example, when the truth with a bit of tailoring would serve just as well or better. Then, when of course the deceptions are too much to swallow, poor Bastiano has to lay all cards on the table trying to fix things. So now the ship's acting commander knows everything there is to know about them, which may not be for the best.
Unlike San and Bastiano, Sidonie isn't inclined to think Thassilonian this or that is neat. Her view of such things is jaundiced by the stories she's grown up hearing from her Auntie Ro about the first awakening of a Runelord, and all the trouble and misery that followed. Nothing has since has led her to believe the subsequent Runelords' awakenings are any more benevolent, and her aunt is of the same opinion.
But, they're in it now. So it's probably best to be friendly and cooperative until they can get their priestess back and get the hell back to Sandpoint. With that in mind, Sidonie adds a couple of thoughts.
"It's creepy that both ships to arrive recently have been immediately decapitated, by that I mean had their leadership removed, then been left with no answers about why."
"It might be due to the disease, but that explanation doesn't line up very well with what we already know. Our priestess had dero assassins sicced on her before she knew anything about it. If I had to bet real money, I'd put it on a plot by the Gorumite priests. They're up to something, and the disease being coincidental. Like, maybe the dero had the disease and have been spreading it as they've been looking for our priestess..."
Sidonie only kind of thinks some of what she says is maybe correct, but the main point is to coax Janis along toward thinking they have shared interests and hazards that require honest cooperation.
Nobody is more surprised than Bastiano when his gambit pays off. He nudges Sidonie and whispers, “Pretty good idea you had, to come check out the ship. Maybe we didn’t find the cause of the disease, but we’ve gotten some new information and maybe an ally. Like I said, everything’s connected to everything else!”
"I was considering an investigation myself, so I was monitoring the building from here via spyglass. It's quite the complex. Tall walls covered in spikes, the whole thing built into the hill, a sturdy locked gate, and they keep a guard outside on watch at all times." She pauses, then adds "I've seen prisons less fortified."
She listens to Autumn's additions before responding "We arrived almost a week and a half ago now, and when we arrived they spoke not at all about the disease. We only learned that later, and only off handedly while they stonewalled the Captain's questions. As for our escort... I'm afraid the details are official business, but I can at least provide his name - Meitremar. As for the name Zaiox, it means nothing to me. If there's a connection here between this disease, your Brother Blanton, and these... dero attacks, I have no clue. I've seen none of them with my own eyes, nor any sign of this disease."
To Sidonie, she adds "I'm also inclined to believe the Gorumites are behind it. I have no idea what has possessed them to hold the Captain and your priestess captive, but in a small outlying village like this-" She raises her hands, palms up, shrugging "-you never know what primitive customs and strange beliefs they may still hold behind closed doors. The townsfolk too can't be trusted."
With all their cards on the table, and in the spirit of frank exchange, Autumn frowns openly. “I’d so rather avoid Stonehome like the plague …” she pauses and sighs reluctantly, not bothering to smile at the unintended pun, “… but I guess we don’t have much choice.” Her instinct is to run away from the creepy disease, but with her one way off the island reliant upon the consensus of her companions, she knows she is stuck here. Better to do something than just wait for the end.
“What does your Captain and Meitremar look like? And what about the two people who accompanied him?” she asks. After a few moments she ventures “Is there anything else you can tell us that might be relevant? And would you be willing to lend us your spyglass? I’d rather observe from a distance to start.”
Vildran chuckles at the remark about the townsfolk. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, rhythmically rubbing his hands together (he doesn't realize he's doing this).
Well, our time with the townsfolk has been admittedly short, but I don't get the idea they're all in with the Gorumites.
As talk of heading to Stonehome proceeds, Vildran's stomach starts to feel unsettled. He doesn't even notice it as first but it builds up to a persistent level that he can't ignore.
Something about venturing to that place with so much unknown caused the unsettling, and his antennae to stand on-end.
How often do Gorumites leave the place? I would very much like to stop one and ask some simple questions before we try to go there.
He quickly glances around the table before returning his gaze to his hands.
"I won't lend you my spyglass, but you're welcome to join me up in the crow's nest if you're wishing to view the place yourself."
To Vildran she adds "I wouldn't overlook them as part of this scheme, if that's what it is." with a shrug, then says "I've seen the Gorumites in town from time to time, but like I said earlier they're tight lipped. You can try asking questions, but I expect they'll be just as useless as when I did."
Sidonie is indeed interested in seeing the place they seem to be conversationally drunk-staggering toward agreeing to break into. It had happened very quickly, and with a shockingly natural feeling. Sidonie doesn't object in general to breaking into places, she's done it a few times before, but those times had been for kicks and involved little risk.
Janis's description of Stonehome made it sound like pure menace. Also, the problem with Gorumites is all the violence. It's really the religion's outstanding feature. It seems to Sidonie the chances are pretty good they will f+$@ things up and get pummeled into mush by a praying mob of battle-crazed freaks. Sidonie sighs.
"I really wish this town was being run by Shelynite clergy. We could just go on the day they give pottery classes and slip away for a look around."
"Yeah, I want a good look at the place before we're there trying to figure out a way through the gates."
Sidonie gets up to go with the First Mate to the crow's nest.
Autumn grins at Sidonie’s jest about Shelynites. “I’ll take a peek too, but you two go ahead,” she says, knowing that the crow’s nest would be too crowded if they all went up at the same time. While the duo climb up the mast, she leans over and whispers to Vildran and the other two men. “If you want to talk to a Gorumite, we could draw one out—we could pretend there’s a sick patient who needs their help. The trick is getting them to talk. It’s one thing if Janis is right and they just won’t say, but it’s quite another if Ordwi’s letter is right and they don’t even remember.”
Vildran nods knowingly at Autumn, strenuously indicating that she's getting what's on his mind.
Agreed. Let's scheme some more back at Elsie's.
Once you're both back down and getting ready to leave, Janis considers for a moment and then offers one final comment "There's one other thing I can offer you that may help. Something I managed to obtain in anticipation of potentially investigating myself." She heads back into the cabin and returns a minute later with a small mold made of wax. She opens it up and you see it carries the impression of a key. "I haven't had the means or opportunity to create a copy using this, but if you're able to do so, the resultant duplicate should match the lock on the front gate. It took quite some risk to make this, so I hope you'll not waste the opportunity."
With that, she passes the mold on to you and nods. "I'm looking forward to hearing what news you bring, good or ill. Either way I'm eager to be done with this place." She scowls as she heads back in and waves the sailors to escort you back to the dock.
Autumn thanks Janis and accepts both wax mold and quill. Once they’re off the boat and alone, she whispers back to Vildran and the others. “Let’s check on Art and our ship first. Maybe Janis’s paranoia is contagious, but I’d rather not talk openly in front of Elsie just yet. We should at least ask her directly about the plague and gauge her response.” When it’s safe to speak freely, she expresses her thoughts about Stonehome. “So should we draw one of the Gorumites out first for questioning, or just break in?” Her tone makes it clear that she’d much prefer the former.
While you begin discussing, you wander your way down the other pier to check on Art. You find him snoring under a tarp that he's spread across a line he strung from the mast. From experience, you know that the sloop's deck is not at all comfortable, but Art sure makes it look like its a fine bed.
"We can try to lure one out. I doubt they will be intimidated easily though. We'll definitely have a fight on our hands."
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"I doubt we'll manage to catch one of the Gorumites alone, but it might be worth the effort. I wouldn't want to make the attempt anywhere near their temple and/or fortress, though - if we try and fail, the whole place will be on alert and it will be impossible to sneak in."
Speaking quietly so as to not disturb Art, Autumn says “If we can, I’d rather befriend a Gorumite than intimidate him—might be best to talk one on one, than scare him with a large group. My main worry is that they might not remember anything, like in Blanton’s letter.” She looks questioningly at Bastiano. “Where would we find a Gorumite, if not at Stonehome?” Musing for a few moments, she adds “I suppose we could ask Elsie where else to find them. There’s a couple things I’d like to ask her anyways.”
Vildran focuses a bit, rubbing his chin as he listens to San.
Hmm... we don't have to assail them alone necessarily or even intimidate. It would just be good to coax some information out of one. We certainly don't want to bring their whole forces down on us.
Autumn jumping back in confirms what he had in mind.
Right, it could be as simple as observing that they are mentally incapacitated coming out of that place. I agree stopping off at Elsies would be helpful. Perhaps she knows of some place they often go on the occasion that they do step out.
The sun is low on the horizon by the time you return to Elsie's red roofed shop. A bell jingles as you open the door and a pleasant aroma of some meaty stew hits your nose. Elsie emerges from the back of her home with a smile "Oh there you are! Was wonderin' when you might get back from your sightseein'. Town's small enough that it's a just a little stroll from one side to the other. Unless you went over to visit the old abandoned manors at Gold's Ruin." She bustles about, clearing goods off one of her tables and hauling some stools in so you all have a place to sit. "So, travelers, what did you think? Too cozy for ya?"
"Abandoned manors you say? Might be interesting in another time. I mean, I'm all about exploring some ruins. Right now though we have to figure out this Gorumite... problem(?)... issue(?)... conundrum. You wouldn't happen to know if they come into town on a regular schedule? We have some questions that they would be best positioned to answer."
“Thanks,” Autumn accepts a seat as she cranes her neck, looking for the food. It’s later than she expected and the aroma is making her hungry. “Your stew smells delicious!” she praises Elsie with a compliment that doubles as an unspoken suggestion.
“We were just chatting with people,” she remarks off-handedly, “and we wanted to check back with the captain of our boat. We did hear something interesting though—sounds like quite a few people here have taken ill with some strange disease. Have you heard anything at all about this? I hope it’s not contagious.”
Vildran looks down at his stomach to confirm the source of an audible gurgle.
Yes, very hungry. Your timing is impeccable Elsie!
While Autumn and San begin asking questions, Vildran is happy to sit down, dig in, and not overload her with more questions before she can even answer. He'll probably have a clearer head after the first two bites anyway.
He's surprised at his own eagerness and willingness to burn his tongue with the first bite.
Wow, I must've really been hungry. He blows on the next one at length while listening to Elsie's response.
You find the stew rich and hearty. Elsie clearly knows her way around the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow as Autumn speaks "Quite a few people? I knew one or two were down with something and were gettin' treated at Stonehome. Wait, are the visitin' sailors falling ill? Should I be worried?" To Autumn's ear her response seems authentic.
Out of respect for etiquette, Autumn forces herself to eat the stew at a measured pace, even though she is rather famished. She shows little interest in the discussion of ruins, and when the conversation turns to the disease, she responds with a noncomittal shrug. “I haven't heard about sailors getting sick, but you know how gossip is—two sick people is nothing to one person, and a plague to another. I guess it really depends on how severe the disease is—I heard it was bad, but you might have heard otherwise.” She eyes Elsie. “How long have the people you know been sick? Are they all better now? What are the symptoms like anyway?”
Elsie looks alarmed as Autumn continues "Oh it didn't seem like anything too serious, just a little fever. At least, that's what I heard. But now you got me worryin'. They've been all ensconced in Stonehome for, well, for a few weeks now. I hope they're alright..." She pauses, frowning "Strange, I hadn't heard anyone talkin' 'bout them, so it just skipped my mind."
She takes her own seat, frown still on her face as she digs into her own bowl of stew. After a few big mouthfuls, she offers "You know, things have seemed a touch strange around here ever since that latest crew of Thassilonians arrived. I don't see as many folks from Stonehome as there used to be here in town. And those that stop by are just around for a short while to pick up food or medicine."
That is strange. So your friends went in and you haven't heard from them since? What are their names? We could ask the gorumites about them.
Vildran senses her sudden distress. It's clear she's been avoiding thinking about them for some time.
San makes a mental note of the locations Elsie described. That could be an interesting trip if we have time.
"We have it on good authority the Thassilonians are missing people as well. There is definitely something odd going on."
“A few weeks in Stonehome?” Autumn arches an incredulous eyebrow. “And the sick people’s relatives aren’t worried or asking about them? That is strange indeed.” She exchanges a glance with the others, but focuses on her stew for the time being, letting the conversation continue without her.
After talk of the sick, the Gorumites, and the Thassilonians subsides, she re-enters with an innocuous query. “Say, do you know if there’s a clockmaker or locksmith in town? Might as well take care of some errands while we’re waiting for our friend.”
"There was Gilbert Froderson's daughter, and then also one of the young fishermen, Adren." Elsie worriedly stirs her stew "Both young, so I was expectin' them back any day now. You could also the Frodersons if they've heard anything, but they didn't say anything to me."
Elsie's happy to switch to a less worrying topic than potential plagues when Autumn asks her question "A clockmaker? Well that's an odd request. If you need someone who's a skilled with their hands for things a bit smaller than ships, you could try Derrol Finnick. He was some kind of craftsman in Magnimar 'fore he came to Iron Harbor. He keeps mostly to 'imself, laid claim to one of the old, half-built manors in Gold's Ruin. He pops in from time to time to share stories and buy this or that. I got the impression he's pretty handy."
Vildran nods pleasantly at Elsie's response.
Thank you. We will ask the Frodersons as well. It's helpful to have some names.
He whispers under his breath to Autumn.
Better to help us test their memory...