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Linkah is standing quietly next to Agidor, arms crossed in such a way to embrace himself against a cold chill. He glances over to the group briefly but his focus is on the northern edge of the clearing where it opens back up to the game trail leading away.
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The years spent dwelling in the shadows of Cassomir have granted Marsh an unerring ability to move quietly when the need comes calling. He slips into the shadows cast by the wagon-parts shanty and a neighboring tobacco monger’s tent and presses his ear against the wall, gathering intelligence. As he does so, Linkah - beer tankard still in hand - climbs into the back of a two-wheeled cart resting in front of the tobacco monger’s tent and crouches down, silent as a whisper. He grins broadly, sips his ale, and gives a thumbs up to Karl. Karl Marsh:
From within the shanty, the conversation continues... ”...no, there’s no reason to leave.” the reedy voice says pleadingly. ”...quite right, Mr Carver.” the fourth speaker adds, the emphasis on ‘mister’. ”Okay.” The whisperer responds, probably Carver’s voice. ”So, as I said, I’ll take my money now.” There’s a quiet murmuring among the other three voices until one is coaxed into acquiescing. ”Good.” Carver says after a beat. ”Meet me on trail four in one hour. I’ll lead you through Goptner’s Grove and to the cave entrance. Remember your lanterns and the vials I gave you. And be on time, if I have...” Carver cuts off his warning as something causes a stir outside… Behind Karl… As Karl listens closely, Beckett makes his move to get within range to do the same. But the gnarled root of a small cyprus tree across from the wagon-parts tent grabs hold of his foot and catapults him forward as though possessed of a mind to render him awkwardly conspicuous! The inquisitor quickly masks over his folly and continues down the path, acting the passerby and not as the spy. The shanty’s door bursts open, the shining moon above glints off a dagger’s blade. The lanky forester hisses for silence over his shoulder as he steps outside. His keen eyes spot and dismiss Beckett quickly, lingering only long enough to see the man continue on down the path. Then he sweeps his gaze around the side and into the alley and the shadows cast therein. He spots Marsh! ”Hey,” Carver waves his dagger at Karl Marsh, while his other hand goes to a pouch at his side. ”...move on. There’s no room here for loafers.” His hand emerges and he tosses a pair of silver pieces at Karl, the coins thumping into his cloak. ”Move it…” The forester turns his head to the side, Karl can almost see his ears twitch at a sound from Linkah’s hiding spot. He glances back to Karl briefly and makes a “get moving” gesture with his dagger. Then he goes to inspect the cart. ”Oy, what’s this then? You stealing?” In the cart, Linkah has managed to wedge open a barrel behind which he’d been hiding. He peers out from behind it and answers sheepishly. ”Can’t a halfer make a bloody quid, gov?” Carver studies the halfling for a moment, eyes narrowed, but he sheathes his dagger and nods with a smirk. ”The better stuff’s in the third barrel over…” His whispered voice says with a color of amusement. ”Ferro is a bleedin’ arse o’ the first order. Take what you can get and piss off.” The forester turns away from the cart and Karl and heads back towards the shanty…
get into cart/hide
. . . "Oy," Linkah gives Beckett a punch in the forearm. "It's like when we firs' greet'd the Dawnflower on our way inta Cassomir. When ya agreed ta helped me brother n' me." The halfling holds up a hand to Beckett, expectantly.
.. .. .. "Oy, ya can put me down, eh boys?" A familiar and shrill voice calls out. "No need ta make a show for it." Uk and Khatelch ate approaching, wide grins on their faces and Linkah on their shoulders. "Ya shoulda seen yer porter, 'ere Longshanks," The first of the two dwarves, Uk, remarks to Karl. "Put a poker, thru a doggy's eye!" Khatelch mimes his thumb going into his own eye. The dwarves drop Linkah to his feet in front of Marsh and laugh. "Porter me hairy arse. Got some stones on ya, lad." "Came flyin' outta the cart like a wee animal, lil' daggers tossin' about." Linkah smirks and a pair of daggers emerge from his vest that he promptly begins spinning in his hands. They just as quickly disappear as he turns to the party. "Climber and the boys here says we're movin' soon. We should saddle up, Marshy. Got 4 more days o' this road." He makes waving gestures to the two dwarves. "On with ya wankers! Get to the carts before I stick ya too!" Uk and Khatelch get a grand laugh out of the little halfling, but they move off all the same. As soon as they're out of earshot, Linkah leans in and says to the party, "We'll get a few more hours o' road says Climber. Then we camp."
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"Bloody hells, mates." Linkah says, juggling a quartet of daggers with practiced ease. "Ya think them bearded brats been sold down the market by their own? Ya think the parents know it's happenin'?" He points to his neck, making a vice with his thumb and forefinger to simulate the scarring. He continues juggling the daggers with one hand. ♤ ♢ ♧ ♤ ♢ ♧
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Linkah leans against one of the posts holding up the forge's porch area and pulls an apple from his pouch. Taking a bite out of it he stares up at Karl. "Me thinks Captain Nice-legs will be sailing north ta keep coin flowin' to the crew." He gives the old warrior a wink. "But don'tcha worry none, Marshy. Ol' Linkah will stick with ya." "As for what the vicar (Argus) sent our way," the halfling giggles and responds. "I might've had a peek. Look like some scrolls and a some water jars. Holy waters my guess. He did give me this little thing here..." He withdraws a folded letter held within a thick envelope. "The vicar says it's a note to the Headmaster o' the school. Gets us all sorts o' good will built right in..." He hands the envelope over, the item sealed with wax bearing the signet of the Scales of Abadar. On the back is the envelope, the flowing script of a calligrapher reads: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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☦ ¤ ♜ ¤ ♬ ¤ ♞ ¤ ♆ ¤ ☀ Linkah grabs a couple of hours cakes from the plate of food in the table between them. Hearing Nosatrub's inquiry, he speaks around a mouth of food. "Oy, got ya a dwarfy iron-splitter o'er near the market. He's gots racks o' killin' toys, but there's o' e'en better thing he gots, mate..." Linkah hops down from the chair and swings a small hand towards the door. "...this dwarfy gotsa gnome artificuh. C'mon, steel-shanks," the halfling beckons to Nosatrub. "...I'll bet they can get ya outfitted."
Linkah trots his way out of the tavern - the Rusted Ax - and leads those attending towards the market in the Northwest of town. "Let's get a move on, chumeroos. I don't wanna be late for Captain Lovely-legs' dinner tonight. Spivey's cookin' up some lambshanks!" Over the passed several days aboard ship, it was clear Linkah had developed a love for Spivey's food. The halfling cook reminded him of his uncle he'd left behind in Cassomir. Nearing the market area, the clarion call of a forge hammer can be heard among the shouts and bustle. Linkah points a little finger towards a low-roofed blacksmith shop with a simple sign reading "Corg's". Inside the establishment, those standing above 5 and 1/2 ft are forced to stoop. In addition they're greeted with the acrid smells of both forge fore and alchemical mixtures. In the deep dark of the shop you can hear the cursing voice of a gnome as he goes about his business. "Ya here ta stare r'ya gonna get ta business?" A brown haired dwarf stumps over from the forge bellows, shirtless save for the heavy apron about his chest. He's a hairy fellow with stern eyes that look to bare no nonsense. As such, those eyes narrow with suspicion at the sight of Linkah.
♧ ♧ ♧ Linkah, quiet up until this point as he busies himself with practicing a salior's knot, pipes up nearly causing the others at the table to jump. "Seems we mights see what's what in Demgazi first, eh? Ain't that where that ol' Vicar o' Shelyn came from in Dragon-drum's book? All o' them shady goin's on sounds a fright better than sniffin' after some stuffy school." He looks back down at his latest attempt at a knot and frowns. "Besides, chums, we can also pay our respects at that caravan town what's been set up outside Demgazi, eh? Inspitah, ain't it called?"
Linkah tosses a dagger from one hand to the next and glances at the pack on the deck with what could be boredom. The little Halfling rogue shrugs and slips the dagger back into its holster. "Thinks I'll be sittin' this one out, mates. Gonna see to the boffers on deck ta set 'em rights on their rope skills. These halfers needs some lessons." He giggles when Onura gives him a look, eyebrows arched imperiously. "Don't get your lollies in a twist, Cap'n. I only wants ta show 'em a spot o' knowledge is all. No mukin' about, I swears on me honor as a shipwright." Linkah makes an official sign across his chest, but the grin at his lips is across anything but official. Onura smiles after making a show of a threatening gaze and nods acceptance. "Very well, so long as your eyes are on the crew and not my aft compartment." "Wouldn't dreams of it, Cap'n." He knuckles a salute and smirks.
Linkah, silent up until that point rocks back and forth on his heels impatiently. "Ah, bloody hells...if there ain't gonna be a tussle, n' there ain't no demon-dogs gonna play poppsies outta the box o' mystery, let's go do for the Cap'n ya yanked from the water." Linkah pushes forward to the stairs and starts up them. "C'mon, Marshy. Then we can get ya some oatmeal ta calm your kettle." As he dashes up the stairs he catches Beckett and gives him a pat on the back. "Thought ya were gonna call it down, gov. Thought I'd see ya do it..." As he's prone to doing, Linkah's face takes on a serious note. "Glad ya didn't, mate. Things'll sort out, you'll see. We gotta stick together, right? How else will we kill us tha' nasty dwarf cuss n' 'is blokes, eh?"
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Linkah sighs loudly. "What a buncha Maries..." He stuffs his little hands in his coat pocket and kicks at an imaginary rock. "Guess we can all look fuh bodices when we gets ta Riddonport, eh girls?" The Halfling makes a show of being depressed as he makes for the door of the hold. "Jus' as well, lads. Looks like that might be one o' the Cap'n's strong boxes, I wot..." Linkah pinches up his face in Karl's direction. "Aww, go on with ya, Marshy. Don't gimme that look. Didn't I mention it afore? Lookee at a way it sits nice n' pretty in its own lil' nook. Box's part o' the ship, I wot. Cap'n Pretty-gams probably cartin' somethin' in the box." Linkah looks to Beckett and Lavios. "Box ain't evil, right chums? Iss what's inside that's got your curlies ina knot, eh?" He continues for the door. "Well, gents, it's been 'bout as fun as seein' the sweet cakes on a sill. What say we go n' fetch the Cap'n n' see if she let's us have a taste *ahem* I mean a peek."
Linkah throws up his arms as Drogan turns to go. "Aww, c'mon, dragon-drum. Ain't ya the least bits curious? Don't ya wanna know what's what?" At Lavios' weigh in to the discussion, Linkah looks to Karl. "There's the spirit. See? That's 2 n' a Halfer ta one pensioner, Marshy." Judging by his tone, it's clear this is a last ditch effort on the Halfling's part.
The halfling licks his lips and rubs his hands together, large eyes taking in the surface of the box with an ever growing curiosity. "Goh, give over, Marshy. Ya think a big demon's in this thing? Waitin' ta take our souls n' use 'em for napkins, eh?" He glances up at the older warrior and nods to the box. "Give us a peek, eh? Somethin' gets our bullocks in a snare, I can use you n' the dwarfie as a raft."
DM Screen:
The Halfling rubs at his shoulder but still grins anyway. "I'll stop flappin' when you lot stop losin'...ooo hahah!" He scamper down the stairs, his shrill laugh leading the way. The steps take him to the cargo hold well ahead of the others. A narrow gangway leads to the small alcove and a single, oaken door. Along the gangway a single lantern hangs to light the path, another at the end illuminating the lone man assigned guard duty. Linkah waves genially as he approaches and pipes up a greeting. "Hullo, longshanks! Whaddya know?" He scratches at his head and points straight up. "Why ya not wi' the other boffins, eh?" The human at door rests a hand on the handle of a cudgel at his belt and frowns down at the new arrival, all attention on the noisy halfling.
"Goodie gum drops, finally something to do besides taking your coin..." Linkah winks in Drogan's direction, then he promptly angles for the steep stairs leading down. "I'll get 'im loosened up, eh?" -------
With the conversation shifting with the deck beneath his feet, Linkah scratches at his chin and moves towards the stairs leading up. After a moment listening, he looks to the others. "Oy, ladies, ya wanna have a look-see below?" He gestures casually towards the other set of stairs leading down to the crowd hold. "Ain't but a bloke all by 'is onesies eh? Bet me winnin's here we can get by 'em an take take a peek at this dark dingus..." Linkah pats his hip pouch where he'd recently deposited his Liar's Fives winnings. |
