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So I think we end up with (unless anyone has better suggestions):
One painting of Minovitas being beaten by the demon, while Iomedae scowls at him.
One painting of Minovitas drunkenly waving a sausage at Lay Morilla and some Taldan nobles.
One painting of Minovitas face planting while in a charge with some other, competent Taldan soldiers.
We can suggest Lady Morilla offer her paintings as replacements when it turns out these are not worthy of display.
Same process to return them - sleepytime for the active guard, while Gnagnatsu sneaks in invisibly to put them back in the box.
The ninja is trying unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle as she returns the paintings, but her natural talent and the magic make up for a number of errors.
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With a sharp nod of approval, Professor Masaendri silently shoos the party out the back door. She raises an eyebrow at Hellebore, who seems to be deliberately turning her face away from the Professor.
Once they've gotten about a block away from the warehouse, she digs the tiny silver figure of a raven from her pack and activates it. "Lady Morilla, the task is complete. You will be quite pleased. We await your instructions."
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After the Professor sends the raven to inform Lady Morilla know of your success with the paintings, you recall there is a commemorative service fir Grayrain in the Docks district…another opportunity to hobknob with the influential…on the way there, the silver raven returns with a missive for you…
You easily deduce this unveiling the Lady mentions must be the same you overheard from the guards at the Opparan Trade Commission in the morning. Since the pre-inaugural Feast you’re scheduled to attend tomorrow is in the afternoon, it fits into your schedule nicely…
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Hellebore stifles her giggles, those being unbecoming to an elf. A witchy elf. A spooky elf. Witchy elves do not chortle. No, they do not.
But the smile stays on her lips.
"Have a good cackle, then. That's very witchy!"
Gnagnatsu waits for the Prof to let her read the note. She has a snicker, a guffaw and a rofl (she doesn't remember where she heard that word before, but it seems appropriate. "Looks like we get to embarrass Minovitas more. Let's come up with some good stories and start spreading them around the town!"
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"So, commemorative service first, then more embarrassment. Anything else?"
Hellebore will speculate wildly on things we can use. Minovitas follows the Mosquito Witch, he sleeps with an old stuffed teddy bear from his Momma, he got drunk and has a tattoo of Zarta Dralneen on his right buttock, he paid an exorbitant amount to commission these paintings from his brother-in-law's former court artist.
"Do we actually know anything about him and his foibles? As fun as it is to make things up, we'll have better luck if we salt them with reality."
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Lord Minovitas is a Taldan nobleman who has spent much of the past year in Absalom laying the groundwork for future business endeavors, though most of that time he has spent intoxicated while wining and dining influential citizens.
His lordship is fighting a losing battle to maintain his upstanding image in Absalom as several Taldans have begun telling stories of Lord Minovitas’s habitual exploitation of his ancestral lands and its people. At least two of these rumormongers have disappeared very suddenly in the past month.
Lord Minovitas’s superiors have formally censured him on at least two occasions for “ignoble conduct,” which would qualify as felonies if performed by a commoner.
"Hmm. Indeed. We can easily spread out and mingle with the crowd. Remember: if you're going to lie, make it believable. The best lies contain some truth." The Professor then quizzes the group on the information about Lord Minovitas that they discovered earlier.
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After reading the missive, you pick up the pace and just make it to the commemorative service as it starts…
The nondenominational commemorative service is somber and those remembering Grayrain and his accomplishments take turns speaking. The event is comparatively small; you assume because most who needed to say goodbye to Grayrain did so earlier in the month at his funeral. After the service, many of those in attendance retire to taverns along the waterfront or in the Foreign Quarter…
As you start to follow the attendees towards the taverns to schmooze with any VIPs, two Sczarni toughs approach you, more dressed for a shakedown than a formal event. Slightly out of breath and visibly on edge, they stop and address you. ”Forgive our interruption, but please follow us to a secure location where we can speak safely. I assure you, we mean you no harm…”
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Once Hellebore assures the rest of you they intend no harm, they lead you through the Docks area, doubling back on their path and taking several snaking turns to a brightly colored ledge wagon parked in the Docks district only a few blocks from the Pickled Imp. Your escorts signal to several other Sczarni guarding the wagon as well as to a few street vendors positioned on opposite ends of the block (lookouts, as the Sczarni explain).
Once cleared to approach, you can enter the wagon. The interior is dimly lit by small brass lamps that spread the faint odor of lamp oil, only partly masked by incense. The only other occupant you recognize as the Exchange faction leader Aaqir al’Hakam, who makes an effort of standing to greet you in the low-ceilinged wagon.
“I suppose you’re surprised to see me? Sit. I wish I could say I have called you here for a more celebratory reason, but such isn’t the case. We have a desperate situation on our hands: Guaril Karela is missing.
“Lately the Sczarni leader and I have discussed a deal that might be in both our organizations’ interest, and I had hoped to f inalize more of the terms tonight. However, several individuals wearing Qadiran clothing and wielding long blades broke into the Pickled Imp, Guaril’s business, tried to set it ablaze, and kidnapped the proprietor—a Sczarni operative who has spent the last month disguised as Guaril to mislead his enemies. Despite their appearance, I have no connection to these vandals. In fact, they may even have been attempting to implicate me and eliminate yet another one of Guaril’s friends.
“Apparently Guaril did not take the news lightly, and I’ve been informed that he grabbed his weapons, ordered all but two of his subordinates to stay behind, and set off after the criminals. It seems this was just one of many contingencies he had prepared, for he had written instructions ready. It seems that part of the plan,” he notes aloud as he extends a sealed missive, “Involved recruiting your help in particular.
“I suspect that the Gael family is behind this, and Guaril sees this as an opportunity to finally do in the rivals who have worked to undermine and kill him for the past year. This has the potential to be very dangerous, but apparently he wanted you to be present for whatever he has planned. You had been seen at the Grand Lodge Social, hence this summons…”
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"Well, I believe I speak for all of us when I say..." Here the Professor pauses for emphasis. "...that such violence is reprehensible, and we will do all in our power to ensure the safety of those who are endangered. Now, do you know where we should start looking?" She is prepared to begin searching for clues at the Pickled Imp, though that will take longer. She is loathe to miss the team's prior engagement for Lady Morilla, but lives are more important than politics.
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The faction leader nods. ”Good question, m’Lady; while we’re not exactly sure, which is why we summoned you, Guaril did leave this cryptic message which we believe is a clue to his whereabouts,” he says as he passes you the note…
As you read the note several other questions pop into your mind…
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The Professor quickly equates the Storm of Stone from the poem to Fort Tempest which can be seen to the west from your current location in addition to directly west of Beldren’s Bluff…and directly south of the fort lies the Flotsam Graveyard of sunken ships…she also notes that the Silver Wren must be capitalized in the poem for a reason…
Absalom Map (‘X’ marks your location)
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"Hm. A wise choice, Gnagnatsu♥. Let us make our purchases quickly, lest we arrive too late." The Professor turns to Aaqir al’Hakam. "While we're retrieving our supplies, will you see to it that a boat is readied for us?"
She then hustles to the nearest shop, along with any other Pathfinders who are on a similar mission, to procure a potion sponge of Water Breathing.
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After decrypting the poem to ID Fort Tempest and the Silver Wren, Aaqir al’Hakam grants your request for a boat. ”I’ve arranged for Guaril’s friends her to lend you a small boat; make your way to the Puddles district, to the beach just north of the wall of Fort Tempest. That is the shortest distance by water for you to row to the Silver Wren; hopefully from there, you can decrypt the rest of Guaril’s poem to reveal his location. Thank you, my friends, and good luck!”
You make a quick stop for your purchases and then make your way as quick as possible to the boat. You situate yourselves inside it and man the oars; you can easlly spot the partially submerged Silver Wren, its masthead clearly revealing its identity. Part of the deck is above water, as is the crows nest, which would give you a better view of the Flotsam graveyard, if anyone dares to climb it…
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"Well? Which one of you wants to climb up that mast?" Piotr inquires.
He then asks to take a look at the note from Guaril. He looks it over and scratches his head.
"I wonder what the three black whales are. Also, could the 'light' be referring to the lighthouse, in this part where it says halfway to the light?"
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Gnagnatsu easily climbs up the mast to the crow’s nest from which she has an excellent view…even better, she finds a badly weathered spyglass that makes it easier to scan the Flotsam Graveyard…
…and she sees all…however, the Professor’s keen Elven eyes can see just as well from her spot on the deck…
Looking south, they both spot a line of six dark ships…and then further back, all can see the light from the lighthouse on Pilot Island…
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You find maneuvering the boat much easier than expected and you row past the Black Whale and head directly towards the lighthouse…
Approximately halfway between the lighthouse and The Black Whale, you spot a capsized vessel whose figurehead is a woman with a flowing gown, her mouth open as if she were drowning…