That's what I asked myself too. Being the ship's medic, people sometimes expect you to work wonders.
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The man's face widens to accommodate a broad moustachioed smile as he grabs the gold. Let me give you a rundown then. First myself: I was asleep in my cot last night, when I heard someone get up several. That isn't all unusual, but it still keeps me awake. I think almost everyone was asleep here, except for maybe the first mate and the cook Killick says, apathetically avoiding any names, the captain doesn't sleep here, and the entertainer usually doesn't either. The bodyguard was supposed to be on guard. Oh, and there's that smuggler in the hold - keeps close to his zoo all day. So that makes the lookout, and the navigator. That lookout was acting strange, challenging the elf for a game of knivesies the day before I got up when the first mate shouted for help, found the elf already dead. he shrugs Mallick got frustrated when I couldn't do anything, but dead is dead. For all Azura knows, he's telling the truth, with a grating amount of apathy.
The crews' cabin is jammed full of rickety cots and threadbare hammocks. There's a footlocker directly below Killick's cot. Killick. the man responds. Look, I can talk to you, but you're going to have to pay for the privilege. You see, each moment that I spend talking to you, I lose out on opportunities in other areas. But we can talk for, say, 10 gp from each of you?
The crew's cabin () is empty, save for a moustachioed man. He's lying in his cot, staring into space, and ignores the adventurers barging in. |